Page 14 of Devious Knight

Now I see why he was looking at her. “I’m guessing your father spoke to Levi’s dad?”

“Of course he did. And long before he spoke to me.” Her jaw tenses and her expression hardens. “I knew I was going to have an arranged marriage at some point but my parents always said it would happen after college. They said they’d give me a few years to dance. Now they’ve changed their minds. They’ve agreed that I can get married after graduation, so I have a few years but they want me engaged by the end of the semester.”

My eyes grow even wider. “That’s ridiculous.” And it doesn’t sound like her parents at all.

Her father is a media mogul and a judge, one of the highest-ranking Knights on the council. Her mother is first lady material with the perfection of a Stepford wife. Neither of them likes to do anything spontaneous, and everything they do is scheduled sometimes years in advance. Something like this is completely out of character for them. “Did they give a reason?”

“No. You know what my dad is like. He tells me stuff on a need-to-know basis. Mom just goes along with everything he says. Something’s up, though. I can sense it.”

“What do you think it is?”

“I have no idea. But you see the need for triple chocolate cake?” Her shoulders drop and her chest caves.

“Of course. What are you going to do?”

She shakes her head and that look of defiance she’s known for spreads over her face. “My parents aren’t going to rule my life. Not when I have big plans for the summer with the New York City Ballet.”

Usually I’d encourage her to steer clear of trouble. Especially with her parents. But on this occasion I have to agree with her.

She got into the New York City Ballet’s summer show. Getting into something like that is practically unheard of. I’m no expert but I know from what Mackenzie has told me that the New York City Ballet usually selects graduates or dancers with years of experience behind them. Mackenzie was just that good they snapped her up.

And if she’s doing their summer show it means she already has a spot lined up in the main show when she graduates.

“Right now Dad likes Levi because his family owns a real estate empire.” Her voice echoes the tension splayed across her features. “But I can’t marry a bastard like Levi.”

Again, I have to agree with her. Levi is a known womanizer with no possibility of changing. He’s also the same breed of fucked-up asshole as Kade. So I get it. “No. You can’t marry someone like him.”

“Also, spoiler alert: the women in Levi’s family aren’t allowed to work. Ever. I can’t let anyone steal my dream. I’ve wanted to dance with the New York City Ballet for as long as I can remember. So I have to figure this out.”

“You will.” I sound sure, because I am. Mackenzie isn’t like me. When she comes up with a plan she always fixes any problems with no regrets. “Come on, let’s go grab that cake. Getting a treat should calm you down and help you think straight.” Maybe it will work for me, too.

Mackenzie nods slowly and we leave.

As we continue down the path I think of my own conundrum.

I can’t allow anyone to steal my dream either. I don’t come from an excessively wealthy family like many of the students here. And I can’t afford to screw around at college just to have something to pass the time.

My art is my world. It’s everything that makes me me.

Art is the one gift my mother gave me when she taught me to paint and sculpt. Being an artist makes me feel like I’m carrying a piece of her with me, always.

That’s why I can’t allow the likes of Kade Gurkovsky to mess with my head.

It’s eleven o’clock at night when Mackenzie and I return to Myrridin House, our dorm. We got in just before the rain started to pour.

We grab a quick cup of hot cocoa from the communal kitchen before we say good night and head to our separate apartments.

Mackenzie’s is on the top floor and, courtesy of her mom, it looks like one of the luxury million-dollar penthouse apartments in Manhattan.

Mine is on the third floor. The design is pretty like the rest of the dorm with its wrought-iron fixtures and French Provençal design, but it’s more down to earth. I also decorated it to my own artistic taste by adding a few Japanese-style additions like my Geisha fans on the wall, Samurai swords, and the cherry blossom Byobu screen. Of course I have a whole section for my Lolita collection.

My mom got me into that, too. She used to dress me like a doll when I was little. As I got older I just adapted my style. It helps that there’s a whole Lolita subculture that has a huge following.

When I walk into my apartment the lights snap on. I take a moment to absorb my surroundings, feeling… safe.

This is the only place where I truly feel at ease. Right here within the confines of these walls.

I suppose the only other place is the art studio, but it’s not mine.

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