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“Besides, have you seen her?” Camil’s laugh makes me think of a hyena. “Straight up and down, like a teen boy. I don’t think Reiks swings that way, bitch.”
They’re so very predictable. There couldn’t be any reason why I might research a fellow student other than wanting to seduce him, in their eyes. In fairness, that’s how they function, and they hold me to their standards.
To my relief, Professor Lelland finally walks in. They know he wouldn’t hesitate to kick them out of his class if they disrupt it. He has no tolerance for interruptions.Some professors might balk at angering illustrious pupils, but he’s a lord in his own right, with a seat on the Council of Magnapolis.
Still, Camil kicks the back of my chair to be certain she has my attention, and leans in. “Stay away, mongrel. Reiks ismine.”
I disguise my laughter in a cough to stay off Lelland’s radar.
Shecan’tbeserious. I doubt Reiks has ever, or would ever, belong to anyone but himself. Certainly not a mean, overly provocative, entitled nobody.
All of a sudden, something comes to mind. Blytheisan Ostra, like Camil. Maybe a cousin, though they could be sisters.
Camil looks nothing like the pretty dead girl. Blythe was blonde, stylish, well mannered. Camil has a constant moue of scorn plastered on her face. She paints her mouth the same bright red as her hair. She dresses like a child’s idea of a princess, with frills and many jewels, but her puffy skirts stop mid-thigh and her corset pushes her ample chest to her throat.
It looks uncomfortable, and honestly,exhausting. How long does it take her to get ready every morning?
Her family’s wealth entirely comes from trade, which might have been an issue in any other country, but Anderkan prides itself on valuing labor over inherited power. Hence why her family’s purse earned Blythe the hand of the crown prince.
Maybe Reikscouldbe engaged to Camil next. That would explain her territoriality. I wince on his behalf. Not even he deserves this fate.
Class is uneventful, under the watchful eye of the councilman. We’re studying biological psychology this term—a subject rendered more complex by the variety among demis, like most medical specialities. Today, we’re speaking about the high rate of suicide among demis aged more than three hundred years.
“Can you think of a factor that might impact the curve, upward or downward?”
No one volunteers to speak. Lelland waves to me. “Frejr.”
I sigh. He rarely leaves me alone. I’d bet my great-grandmother had a hand in making sure I’d be singled out by her old friend.
“Marital status?” I say, my mind on Valina.
Our matriarch spent a few hundred years in limbo, letting herself slumber in the forest, when she was alone. Then, she met her husband, and they’re disgustingly happy together, after almost a thousand years. They’ve birthed seven children, the youngest just fifteen years ago. Hence why I have so many cousins.
“Very good.”
He lifts his hand and the graphic on the black board at the back of the room changes. Instead of one increasing line, there are three now.
“The rate of suicide overall,” he says gesturing to a red line that slowly increases with the ages. “Now the rate among married demis,” he says, gesturing to a line that goes all over the place, up and down, with no logic I can see. “Can anyone guess which factor was considered here?”
The last line is constant and low, showing under two percent.
“Ms. Ostra?”
I turn, happy to see her fumble. “Maybe they have children?”
“Am interesting point, but no. Let’s add this hypothesis to the graph, though.” A blue line joins the first three, echoing the red, though much slower. “Mr. Klor?”
The boy sinks in his seat. “Err, maybe they’re mated, dunno.”
Lelland is rather intimidating. Over a thousand years old himself, he looks younger than us, and we can’t miss the mark on his forehead: an upside-down V, marking his allegiance to the Shade.
There are songs of his exploits in the Dark War, and while he’s since hung up his sword to pick up a professor’s hat, when students disrespect him, we get a glimpse of his rage.
Lelland smiles. “Very good, Klor. Indeed, the suicide rate is almost nonexistent for demis who choose to form a mating bond.”
No wonder. Matings are considerably stronger than marriages, because they cannot be broken by any force on Xhera, not even our gods. The only couple I know who chose that path is Valina and Alessandre.
My great-grandfather’s bloodline isn’t nearly as potent as Valina’s. Without the bond, he might have aged, and died, centuries ago.
