Page 10 of Forcing Fate

“Oh, pardon me,” I muttered, trying to take a step around him, but he held his ground.

“Ain’t a pardon good enough for you, hag.”

I blew out a breath at his harsh words. The boy, no older than I, turned and glowered down at me. These petty bullies were getting old this morning.

The secretary cleared her throat, and the boy smirked, unphased by her warning. “What did you have to do to get the Masters to give you a second chance?” he asked, clearly hinting at some form of bribery. He leaned forward to whisper in my ear before I could pull away, “You’ll just be refused like last time.”

I took a quick step back, glaring up at him. “I wasn’t refused. That hatchling simply bonded with another Rider.” I had been telling myself the same thing since Hatching Day. I almost believed it now.

A menacing sneer darkened his face, and he came closer.

“Distance!" A guard barked.

His eyes flicked to the guards stationed at the entrance to either wing of the dorms before he stepped away. Rules of appropriate distance between genders were strictly enforced. When so many children, teens, and unclaimed adults packed into such a tight place as Northwing, there had to be boundaries or tensions could rise. The King was determined to protect his people, even from each other.

“A dragon wouldn’t be the first thing to refuse a girl as ugly as you,” he snarled. “You look like an old woman with that white hair.”

I shook my head and stepped around him. Bullies would be bullies, and I didn’t have to give them any of my time. I had more important things to do.

Outside, sunshine warmed my face, chasing the chill out of the morning air. Mist rose from the grass as the sheen of frost melted away. The first spring flowers were already mid-bloom, letting their sweet fragrances drift on the breeze. It was a beautiful day.

I wouldn’t let myself be bothered by the trivial nonsense of boys and bullies. One day, I would be a Dragon Rider, and my peers would be more mature.

I detested the immaturity of people my age. Even some of those older than me acted like children, fighting and squabbling over the simplest things. Things like fashion, and who would be whose life mate. Fashion was of no concern to me, unless it was the newest practical riding gear. And I had my whole life to find my life mate. I was in no rush. I didn’t care what my peers thought of me. In the grand scheme of things, their opinions didn’t matter.

Wrinkling my nose at the antics of boys, I walked toward the barracks. Boys were disgusting, smelly, and rude. Why anyone would dream of settling down with one of them—I hadn’t the slightest clue.

Some men, like Master Brann, were gentlemen and I could appreciate ending up with someone like that as my life mate. Someone kind, fair, and dignified. In essence, someone who was mature. It was hard to imagine Master Brann as a ruddy teenager, but I supposed he had to have been at some point.

I strode through the giant wooden fence separating the barracks from the school grounds. The guard on duty stopped me with a lowered spear.

“Miss, you’re entering the barracks,” he stated, frowning.

It was all formality with the guards, but formality was to be respected. I produced a written order from a pocket in my cloak. It was a permission slip to enter the barracks, but only as the Shield Master’s assistant. The guard took the paper and looked it over carefully.

“You know where you’re headed, Miss Avyanna?” he asked, handing it back.

I shook my head. I’d been on this side of the grounds fewer times than I had fingers. It was always with a Master as a guide, during class. I had no reason to remember these paths, not when my presence was prohibited without a written order.

I looked around at some men milling about. They were all shapes and sizes—tall, short, lanky, burly. Some were all brawn, with muscles piled high. While others wore clothing that draped over their bones like poor, hungry skeletons.

“Wait a moment, if you will. I’ll find someone to escort you,” he said, scanning the men walking past.

While I waited, I took time to study the buildings on this side of the barracks’ wall. Most of these structures were made of wood, versus the majority of the school buildings, which were constructed of stone and brick. I stood in the arms market, where dealers of swords, shields, spears, and bows hawked their wares. All manner of armor, tools, and weapons were out on display to be viewed with shining perfection. The space brimmed with a steady hum of voices and bartering, a lovely din. Nothing seemed amiss as men bustled about their duties.

I craned my head to see a knife stall with daggers out and gleaming in the early morning sun. Weapons were not allowed on the school grounds unless possessed by a guard. If we students were caught with a blade, it was lavatory duty for a month. If adults were caught with a weapon, punishment ranged from a fine or community work, to possible imprisonment.

The most dangerous thing I had ever held in my hand was a dinner knife.

“Hail! Willhelm!” The guard waved toward the shifting mass of male bodies.

A man with short black hair, streaked with gray, hesitated in his path and turned to look at us, jerking his chin up in question.

“Miss Avyanna here has orders from Master Damon. Escort her to the armory, would you?” The guard gestured from me to the man, Willhelm.

I offered a small, apologetic smile at the frowning man before walking over to him. “Begging your pardon for this inconvenience.”

“I don’t mind, miss. I’m passing by the armory office, anyway.” With a nod to the guard, he gestured for me to walk beside him.

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