Page 252 of Depraved Boys

After several moments of struggling, she flopped down to the floor. “Enough. I won’t go after Miss Evergreen.”

Sebastian flicked his head, gesturing for me to move further away. I backed into the bathroom and continued filming through the gap in the door with my left leg wedged against the wood. When I gave him a nod, he rolled off her and kept his muscular arms up, ready to catch her in case she bolted toward me.

Miss Claymore twisted around and glowered at Leopold, who still had his arms wrapped around her waist. “Let go, Mr. Brunswick!”

He backed off, remaining on his knees and ready to pounce, but Miss Claymore settled herself on the mattress with her long legs outstretched. She pulled her dressing gown closed, dipped her head, then her shoulders shook with what looked like silent sobs.

Leopold scrambled to his feet and stood in front of the bathroom.

“What do you want?” her voice broke.

Sebastian knelt at her side. “Stop pursuing me. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve apologized for pigging you. It was a vicious, vindictive game, and I was a vicious, vindictive, little bastard.”

She shook her head. “You never gave us a chance.”

I wrinkled my nose and continued filming. Did she have some kind of disorder?

Sebastian scowled. “I never meant any of those things I said to you. They all came from my grief counselor.”

“That’s the plot of Cyrano de Bergerac,” she spat.

I blinked. Cyrano de Bergerac was a fictional soldier with a big nose, who wrote love letters to a woman called Roxane on behalf of another man named Christian. Roxane fell in love with Christian, never learning the identity of the letter writer until Cyrano’s death.

“True,” said Leopold, “But the grief counselor is in his early thirties, which might be a bit old for a woman of your tastes.”

I rolled my eyes. Now wasn’t the time to rile the wounded beast.

“Detention,” she snarled.

“For insolence or for defending myself against an older woman trying to ride a boy young enough to be her son?”

Miss Claymore’s gaze traveled past Leopold and straight to me. The fury in her eyes turned my blood frigid. “Come with me, Miss Evergreen. The school has specific rules about sexual conduct.”

“I’m aware of them, but the Teaching Regulation Agency also has rules,” I said. “Someone tried to kill me multiple times, and this video is proof that you’re willing to hurt anyone who gets in the way of you molesting Sebastian, including Sebastian himself.”

“If you upload that video, I’ll—” Her teeth clacked shut. The woman was demented, but she wasn’t stupid.

“You know what?” Leopold picked up his phone. “I’m going to call my mother and tell her everything.”

“She’ll have you sent home for consorting with Miss Evergreen.”

He snorted. “A small price to protect the young boys at the academy from your groping hands.”

“You make me sound like a—” Her face tightened. “It wasn’t like that, and you know it.”

“That’s how it looks now,” he said.

Sebastian stood over Miss Claymore, giving her a pitying look. Part of me wanted to throttle him for feeling bad for her after everything she had done, but the anguish in his eyes assured me that he would never play that game again—despite what the knights, the queens, Cormac, and even Miss Claymore had told me.

Miss Claymore’s shoulders slumped, and she let out a long breath. “I’ll get counseling. Just keep that video to yourselves. The Board of Governors allowed me back until they could find someone else to curb the bullying.” She raised her head, revealing a face streaked with mascara-tinged tears. “For the sake of the other students, let me stay.”

“Leave,” said Sebastian.

“Are you going to report me?” she asked.

“He will if you don’t get out this instant.”

“A-alright.” She pulled herself to her feet and adjusted her thick dressing gown. “But if you get me fired and I hurt myself, it will be on your conscience for the rest of your life.”