Page 46 of Outcast

One of the servers brought my usual cooked breakfast but served on a plate of fine china instead of the porcelain. It was then that my gaze caught the extra knives, forks, and spoons at my place setting. My brows rose. The head table was more than an elevated platform, it was an exercise in fine dining.

I cut a piece of grilled tomato and hummed at the explosion of flavor. After a week of eating junk, real food was a welcome sight. Even the pale bacon and blood sausage were appealing.

Charlotte whined from Blake’s end of the table, “What happened between them? Why did they go away for so long? Nobody’s saying anything!”

I glanced up at Henry. “You didn’t tell her?”

His lips tightened. “The fewer people who know, the better. Even in a closed-off environment like Mercia Academy, news can leak to the press and give people ideas.”

“I told Rita,” I whispered.

“We thought you might,” he replied. “Yelverton knows to keep her mouth shut.”

I lowered my knife and fork and glared at the side of his handsome face. Without the stubble, he looked less the rugged football player and more the dashing prince. “Is that a threat?”

Henry stopped eating to meet my gaze. “It’s an observation. Unlike some of the girls around here, Yelverton isn’t a gossip, and I expect that neither are you.”

I let out a breath and returned to my breakfast. Perhaps the boys had been serious about changing, after all.

“Well?” snapped Charlotte. “Did they disappear to the same place?”

Her two doppelgängers at the end of the table murmured their agreement. Patricia said in a loud voice, “The trollop probably got recalled to her brothel for retraining.”

The pair shared congratulatory giggles. From the way they acted, it was as though they’d never been able to produce an insult that hadn’t already been uttered by someone with more wit.

Edward stood, shoulders tense and raised a few inches higher than usual. “Alice, Patricia, please find alternative seating arrangements. You are no longer welcome at my table.”

I held my breath and froze. Those were the two girls he’d been dating. What was he saying? Patricia leaned forward and tried to catch Edward’s eye. From the way she swung her neck from side to side, snake-charmer style, it looked like Edward stared through them. If she hadn’t been involved in some of the pranks perpetrated against me, I might have felt sorry for the girl. Right now, I could only think thoughts of vindication.

“What?” said Charlotte. “You can’t just banish them after everything they’ve done for you.”

“You are free to leave with them,” he said through clenched teeth.

Charlotte turned to Blake, who stared ahead. In a small voice, she said, “But I’ve sat at your table since third year. How could you eject my friends and me for insulting a low-life trollop?”

“And now, you’ve outstayed your welcome,” Edward said, nostrils flaring. “Leave, Miss Underwood, or I will have you removed.”

Charlotte was the first to stand. She tossed her ponytail, stuck her nose in the air and announced, “There’s a foul stench in the air, and it’s made me lose my appetite. Come on, girls.”

Patricia and Alice stood, amidst a smattering of applause. I gaped at the looks of glee on the other students’ faces. It looked like the girls weren’t as popular as they’d thought. They sashayed, single file, to the dining room doors and walked out into the hallway. I hid my expression with my crystal glass of orange juice. This was a fitting end to Charlotte’s reign as the Queen of Mercia Academy.

I turned to look for Rita at our usual table. She wasn’t there but three tables across with a trio of students I’d never seen before. A black-haired girl with her hair tied back into a high ponytail, and two unremarkable-looking boys. My brows furrowed.

“Worrying about Yelverton?” asked Henry.

“Who are those people?”

“Other scholarship students.”

“Oh.” She had mentioned spending time with the other scholarship students while I’d been away. I straightened in my seat and smiled at her. Even if it had been to speculate on my grizzly fate, I was glad she’d connected with them.

Classes were a blur of trying to keep up with the lessons I’d missed. Fewer people in the hallways called me Trollop. I supposed the other houses hadn’t yet gotten the message about my ceasefire with the triumvirate. It would probably not last. Good things never did. But I would savor the peace I got from not having to constantly be on alert for insults and pranks.

Later that day, Charlotte caught up with me on one of the tree-lined pathways as I walked back to Elder House. She grabbed my wrist. “What did you do, Trollop?”

I snatched my arm away, resisting the urge to shove her to the ground. “Watch it! I still owe you for throwing hot chocolate in my face and for kicking me in the stomach.”

She bared her teeth and hissed, “What do you expect for showing off that video, whore?”