You've been glancing at Asher to underscore your comments; Asher's combat competence and heavy muscles make it clear that they mean business. The other students seem impressed; Asher seems to find it quietly entertaining.
In the common room, Dominique is sitting at the card table, sorting through a tall pile of letters. He looks up and smiles as you enter. "Oh!" he says. "You've got a letter. Here."
You settle in the reading nook while Dominique leafs through more letters; Asher stands silently against the wall. The thick envelope is embossed with the royal crest, and sealed with your mother's seal.
Her letter begins with the usual warm greetings, and she writes that:
"It's strange in the palace with only Oliver," she writes. "This wasn't how we planned it before, was it? I didn't think about how it would feel with you gone."
Strange, too, to read such a personal letter from her. When you've been away on holiday in the past without your mother, her letters have tended to be cheerfully factual, detailing silly encounters or sending a small gift. She writes that the papers have been intrigued about your schooling, and that she's kept them at bay with puff pieces about your childhood.
"King Mateo telephoned me the other day," she writes, and your heart sinks. King Mateo is one of Javi's parents, and the monarch of Zaledo. You read on: "I didn't realize Princess Javi was attending Archambault too—what a coincidence, and such nice news! I always thought you and she would make a lovely match."
You let out a laugh, and both Asher and Dominique startle.
"Are you…all right?" Dominique says, but he doesn't let you finish. Instead he rushes on, "Is it about Javi? One of my parents said you're practically engaged."
You recall Dominique's parents as the life of any party, surrounded by eager hangers-on. Dominique has definitely inherited their penchant for gossip.
Asher leans forward. "Is that true?"
Dominique leans forward with a thrilled expression. "Gosh, are you going to have Javi deported?" he says in the tone of someone who does not believe it for a second.
Smiling, he bends to read more of his own letter.
The Door Opens
Beaumont and Javi stride in, and Dominique breaks off in a monumentally obvious fashion. He starts sorting through the letters again. "Asher, you've got something," he says, passing them a thick envelope. "And Javi!"
Javi takes the envelope from Dominique's hands and smiles. "That's Rosario's handwriting," she says. "I wonder what he's up to."
"You should ask him to tell you secrets about the Academy," Dominique says cheerfully. "And Beaumont…oh, here's something."
Beaumont snatches the typewritten envelope, and Javi cocks her head. "Something secret from your parents?" she says cheerfully.
Asher inhales sharply. Dominique grimaces and gestures frantically at Javi to stop, but Beaumont's face has already gone stony. "If they can send me letters from beyond the grave, that would be a wonderful surprise," Beaumont snaps.
Javi's expression falls, and she looks stricken. "I didn't mean…"
In a flash, you recall where you've read Beaumont's name: in a newspaper article a few years ago about a sailing accident. Most of the family died, including Beaumont's parents and cousins. Laurie Beaumont was the sole survivor.
Beaumont tilts his head. His ink-dark eyes are very large. "Thank you," he says, and he sounds like he means it.
Javi hunches her shoulders, mutters an apology, and stalks off towards the kitchen. Dominique returns to his letter, and as he reads, his face falls.
Beaumont grabs his long, charcoal-colored coat. "I'm going to check on Patch at the mews. Anyone coming?"
Dominique's still frowning at his letter. "I don't think so. Sorry."
Beaumont glances at you with a questioning expression.
"I'll stick around here," you say. Beaumont looks between the four of you, shrugs, and finishes buttoning his coat before leaving the room. After a couple of minutes, you hear the Vercher door close. Dominique excuses himself and goes to his room, leaving you and Asher to find Javi in the kitchen.
Next
Javi mutters something uncomplimentary in Zaledoan.
She swings her satchel angrily over her shoulder. Asher is tense at your side.
"Look," she snaps. "I don't need you taking over everything the way you did at Rosario's wedding."
As far as you recall it, Javi was the one who interrupted your speech. Now she's making everything look like your fault again.
Javi huffs. "No one would have thought that," she says. "You were lucky I interrupted you."
She folds her arms, wrinkling her shirt.
"My parents told me they and your family want us to marry," she says, her voice low. "It was just hints before, but now they're really pushing it. Well, it's not happening. I can tell you that much."
Believe me," you say, "I feel the same. I'm not going to go along with this just because my mother thinks it a good idea. Trust me."
Javi's eyes widen, and she looks impressed for the first time. "Good," she says. "They can't keep treating us like children or chess pieces. We're our own people."
Javi avoids your gaze. For a second, you wonder whether she could be protesting too much over this. Perhaps there's something else going on here.
You meet Javi's gaze. Her mouth tightens, but she can't look away. "I…" she starts to say.
Then the moment passes, and she tears her gaze away.
"Well, anyway," she mutters.
The bell rings. She turns on her heel, leaving you and Asher alone.
According to the timetable, it's time for a group meeting in the theater. You hasten across the grounds.
Next
Asher excuses themself to check the perimeter, and you enter the theater quickly. It's an entire building with the baroque look of a theater of two centuries ago, with a vast proscenium arch soaring overhead. Plush seats and velvet-lined boxes surround the stage upon which Pascal, Vere and Clemence stand; the lighting gives a warm glow to the whole place.
Once you have found your seats, you eye some of the other final-year students. You recognize a few from your bigger classes. There's Yannick, a slender, excited-looking boy with shaved hair who's holding forth to his companions about something you can't hear, while Gabi in the front hunches over their notebook, scribbling furiously. Mai, a heavily muscled girl with red hair, has put her feet on the seat in front of her, glaring at anyone who might complain.
Pascal claps his hands, and the theater falls silent.
Next