Page 60 of Into the Isle

“Astrid,” she chirped back. “Astrid Dahlmyrr. You should probably know me.” She had an annoying, expectant voice, which made me want to know her even less. High-pitched in that regal, I’m-better-than-you-peons kind of way.

My brow creased when I played her name in my head. I hadn’t budged from my seat, despite her looking ready to throttle me, and her two lackeys mad-dogging me like their faces were going to freeze with those disgusted frowns on their lips forever.

“Wait,” I muttered, shaking my head. “Did you say Dahlmyrr. As in—”

“A bastard?” she offered before I could finish.

“Hey, I didn’t say that. If that’s your name, then it means you’re like—”

“You?” she interjected again. She repositioned her stance and pumped her broad hip the other way. The girl was wearing a striped black dress that only went halfway down her pale, thick legs. “If you say I’m like you, Linmyrr, I’m going to knock that breakfast tray off the gods-damn table. I’m nothing like you.” She tilted her chin to make a point of it.

My frustration reached a fever pitch.

“Now move, bitch,” she demanded.

“There’s nowhere else to sit,” I said, making a show of looking around at the filled benches near me.

“Not my problem.”

I’m not getting caught slipping again, I thought, recalling my words from last night.

I stood from my seat but didn’t get out from it. Instead, I crossed my arms over my chest. I was well-muscled from the years of practice, training, and my strong upbringing. I was tall for a woman, which was what made it so comical when Arne and Grim called me “little” anything. I was taller than this girl.

“I don’t give a shit about your table, Astrid. I don’t appreciate when people speak to me like that. Bog-blood.” My words came out menacingly, spitting the last two through gritted teeth. “Maybe if you asked nicely, this could go differently.”

Her eyes blinked in shock. A wicked sort of smirk splayed across her cheeks. She glanced over her shoulders. “Look at that, ladies. The swamp girl has more backbone than I thought.”

“Yeah. And this swamp girl doesn’t like bullies.”

She scoffed, opening her mouth—

And an arm abruptly draped over my shoulder.

All attempts at intimidation fluttered away in a second as I looked over at a smiling face next to me.

She was a Black girl with a radiant smile. A tight dark weave cascaded down her shoulders, the red tips of her hair catching my attention. “Hi, Astrid. Don’t mind my friend. She doesn’t know how it goes around here.”

She spoke easily to the bully, which caused Astrid to pull up short. After a moment of confusion, Astrid narrowed her eyes at me. “Fine. I’ll let it slide this time, Randi. But keep a leash on this one.”

My eyes flickered from Astrid to Randi, who still stood with her arm draped over my shoulder, despite being nearly a foot shorter than me.

I was shocked into acceptance. Without saying another word, Randi led me away from Astrid and her goons, who were starting to crowd around the table.

“Um, what just happened?” I asked the newcomer.

“I just saved your ass from untold agony. Believe me, you don’t need it on your first day.”

“How would you know . . . Randi? Isn’t it your first day also?”

She slithered her arm out from behind my neck, smiling at me now that we’d departed Astrid’s gang. “My brother attended, so I have an idea what it’s like here.” She stuck her hand out. “Randi Ranttir. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

I blinked at her hand. Looked at her friendly face for any sign of deceit. She was the first Black girl I’d seen on campus, and I had to say it made me feel grateful that there was at least an iota of diversity at this school for Vikings. I hoped to see much more of it as my studies progressed.

Without thinking more about it, I shook Randi’s hand. “Ravinica Linmyrr. Thank you for helping me.”

“That’s a cool name,” she said, still grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Yours too.” I gave her a coy smile.

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