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Chapter 9

MEDRA

My stomach growled as Florence and I walked out of the boardroom. It was nearly eleven. The corridor beyond the headmaster’s rooms was empty and quiet. Shadows flickered from the burning torches along the stone walls.

I turned to Florence. “Did I just make a terrible mistake?”

She looked at me with a confused expression.

“Rodriguez,” I elaborated. “I basically just crowned him King of Bloodwing.”

She huffed softly. Almost a laugh.

“Can you imagine?” I went on. “Rodriguez as headmaster? He was drunk all last term. What if it happens again? Or, worse, what if he gets drunk on power? Not to mention the fact that the high-bloods are going to riot.”

“I think that was your strongest argument for why he’ll be perfect,” Florence said, smiling faintly.

“I hope so.” I glanced at her. There were dark shadows under her eyes, and her shoulders were hunched. Even though she’d offered her help—and her dragon’s—I could feel a distance between us. I felt desperate to bridge it. “Thank you for saying you’ll help me with Blake,” I said awkwardly. “It means a lot.”

“Of course.” She started to walk toward the other end of the corridor leading to the stairs.

I hurried after her. As I caught up, my stomach growled again—loudly. “I’m starving. You must be, too. Look, do you want to come with me to get something to eat?” She hesitated. “Not the refectory,” I said quickly, knowing she sometimes felt anxious when there were too many people. “I was thinking of checking out the Vale.”

The Vale was a new café that had opened up in an empty classroom near the library. It was run by some blightborn refugees—Veilmar locals. At first, it was supposed to be temporary. They’d thrown the place together in the span of just a few days to help Bloodwing feed the influx of newcomers. But now that many of the refugees who’d sought shelter in the school were slowly returning to the city, I’d heard rumors that the café would remain.

“I’ve heard the food is pretty good,” I said. “And they have kava.”

Florence frowned. “Won’t it be closed?”

I shook my head. “No, they’re open late. Apparently they’re planning to have live music at night once things settle down more. They serve stronger drinks in the evenings, too. Maybe a glass of wine would do you good? Help you relax?” I was worried the suggestion might offend her, but her expression didn’t change. It stayed blank and unreadable. Closed off. I smothered a sigh. “You know they named it for Professor Allenvale, right?”

Florence’s dark eyes widened briefly. “I … didn’t know that.”

I nodded. “Maybe we can go eat, grab some drinks, then head to the library for a bit. Do some late-night research …” I’d thought the mention of the library would get her attention, but she was already shaking her head.

“I don’t think so.” She was trying to look regretful, but I could tell she wasn’t. “I’m tired. I think I’ll just go up and head to bed.” She covered her mouth to stifle a yawn.

The thing was I knew she genuinely was tired: She looked it. But I was pretty sure she’d faked the yawn. Why? She just didn’t want to be around me. Since we shared a room, that could get awkward fast. I decided not to think about it. For now, I decided I needed to give her more space.

I forced a smile. “Of course. I’ll be really quiet when I come in. I promise I’ll try not to snore.”

She didn’t laugh at my lame joke, just smiled briefly, then entered the stairwell. I watched her disappear, her calf-length black skirt swishing around her thighs, her silver cardigan pulled tight … and her head drooping. She was worried about something—or someone. Was it her mother? Blake? Me? My heart sped up. Or herself? What wasn’t she telling me? I would get the truth out of her. She was my dearest friend, and there was only so long I’d let her shut me out. But first, I’d let her get some rest.

I walked away from the stairwell, heading in the direction of the library. I’d barely gone a dozen steps when someone sidled up beside me, their shorter legs easily matching my longer stride.

“How many hours did Rodriguez wind up keeping you trapped in that boardroom?” Visha drawled.

I grimaced. “More than five. And I think I was the one trapping him by the end.”

Visha laughed, showing her fangs. I studied her. She looked as she always did: carelessly at ease. Her pale hair was shaved on one side, the rest falling in a pale blond wave that just brushed her jaw. She wore a fitted black leather jacket over a loose crimson shirt that dipped low, showing her collarbone. Her trousers were skintight and sleek, but her boots were scuffed and practical. Hard with just a few touches of softness worked in.

“You look … well, you look hot.” I grinned, then nudged her playfully. “You going somewhere? Got a date?”

She shook her head. “Nah. I’m going to the Vale. With you. You look like you could use feeding.”

My stomach chose that moment to rumble again. “I do. In fact, there’s a high probability I may faint on the way and you’ll have to carry me.”

“Not a problem.” She fell into step beside me, shoving her hands into her trouser pockets. “Look, I knew I wasn’t supposed to stay for that last meeting. But I assume it was about Blake?”