Page 50 of Trivium

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LOVELEENA

Waiting for Ahmina’s truth potion was torture. And honestly, both her patience and her noble manners were wearing thin. On the positive side, she had finally received a response to the letter she had written to her sister, letting her family know where she was. Lana explained that her mother and father were livid but glad to know her whereabouts. She included a pack of tully—from Gina, she said—a picture of Park, some clothing, and a coin purse with enough for Loveleena to buy a few things in the village.

She sat in the mess hall, twirling noodles around on a fork. They had gone cold while she played with her food absent-mindedly.

“What’s gotten into you?” Emerson asked from across the table.

Loveleena groaned, avoiding his question. She had been spending a lot more time with Emerson lately. They shared almost all their classes, but more importantly, they shared the same sense of humor, and his sarcastic nature could always make her laugh. It made her miss Park even more.

Artie plopped down beside her, butting into their conversation. “Babe, you look miserable,” he said. “Tell us your problems.”

The truth was that she was miserable. She wanted to set this stupid school on fire. She had made no progress on finding out what happened to Park. Ren was MIA. Ahmina was still working on her truth potion. And all the while she ruminated on why an entire group of well-respected, confident people would cover up her best friend’s disappearance.

“Just got my monthly.” She lied, hoping the two men would drop it. “What’s new with you?” she asked, in effort to steer the conversation away from herself.

“Well, I was stalking the third years. I’m mega crushing on one of them.”

“Oh yeah? Who?” Gossip was the feel-good shot she needed.

“Tiras. Have you seen him? God, that man is a gift from the Goddess… but under no circumstances tell him I said that.”

Unlike first and second years, third years weren’t led by professors. Instead, they were mostly taught by Defenders in the field to transition them beyond graduation. Artie often joked about his crushes, but he was a formidable opponent in Combat and Strategy. She knew he wasn’t just spying on the third years for eye candy. He absorbed their technique and worked it into his own training. He mastered the art of getting attention in the right way, to be both respected and non-threatening to peers. Something Loveleena still hadn’t figured out how to do in this Goddess-forsaken school. “I don’t know him. What squad is he in?”

“The one led by Serena Lennox.”

“Wait. Serena is Lennox’s sister?”

He looked at her like she was stupid. “Yeah?”

“What else do you know?”

“Well…” He mirrored her body language, closing the distance between them. “The third years are all at the Battlegrounds right now doing some sort of training. A few graduate Defenders are leading it. Serena is there of course, so is Ren. But it seems more intense than anything else I’ve seen them do out there.”

“Really?” Loveleena glanced at Emerson, who had gone back to eating, unconcerned by Artie’s report.

“Unfortunately for me I can’t watch Tiras get all sweaty and bloody because I have Alchemy in ten.”

“Hmmm…” She leaned back on the bench, thinking.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned here,” Artie said, standing up. “It’s that you have to go after what you want. So, whatever has got you down, don’t sulk around in the mess hall. Do something about it.”

Loveleena liked Artie. He was brutally honest and always told it to her straight.

“You know what, you’re right.”

Emerson froze as she climbed on top of the table in front of them. “What are you doing?” he asked, apprehensive.

“I’m doing something about it. Just like Artie said.” She cleared her throat, ignoring Emerson’s objections.

“Hey!” She called over the crowd, garnering the attention of everyone in the room. “Last year, Park Kem was a first year here.” Even the new recruits recognized a noble name. “Curly black hair, brown eyes, handsome and funny—ring any bells? No?” A couple students whispered, but she ignored them. “He went missing last year. Yeah. Missing. Someone here knows what happened to him and they’re keeping it a secret. Which is pretty fucking⁠—”

“—Get down!” Emerson whispered behind her, tugging at her pant leg and she shooed him off.

“—Anyway, he was my best friend. Is my best friend. We grew up together, and believe me when I say I will go to no end to find out which of you are covering up his disappearance and make sure you regret the day you were born—” Emerson pulled her down by her arm sleeve and she stumbled onto the bench below.

“Girl, that is not what I meant,” Artie laughed, while Emerson held her arm so she couldn’t get on top of the table again.