Page 41 of Kingmakers, Year One

“Does the window open?” I ask Ares.

“Yeah,” he says, trying it. “Careful though—it’s a long way down.”

He peers through the bubbled glass down the steep walls of the tower to the courtyard below.

“When do you think we get dinner?” I say.

I skipped breakfast and they didn’t feed us anything on the boat. My stomach is growling.

“Should we ask Johnny?” Ares says.

I weigh my hunger against Johnny’s obvious irritation at being asked to care for us Freshmen in any way.

“Yeah.” I grin. “Let’s ask him. But be prepared to run if he decides that’s a stupid question.”

5

DEAN

Iwake early, before the sun is even up. I know at once that I’m not in my old room at home. I can tell because the air isn’t musty and enclosed, with that awful lingering scent of neglect I could never seem to shake. Instead I smell sea breeze and the fresh herbs growing in the terraced garden below my window.

Bram is still snoring in the bed across from mine. It’s weird sharing a room with another dude, especially one I barely know. Bram is an ally though, and that’s all that matters. I only just met him in Dubrovnik, but I’ve seen that he’s tough, aggressive, and reasonably intelligent, and that’s what I want in a friend.

In Moscow I always got up early to go for a run while the streets were still empty. I could probably run all over this island in a couple of hours. But I don’t know the rules well enough to know if we’re allowed to leave the school grounds.

Better to just use the gym our guide showed us the day before.

Slipping out of bed quietly, I open my top drawer and pull out the gym attire I purchased along with the rest of my uniforms.I already neatly folded my clothes and stowed them away in the dresser the night before.

When Bram asked if I wanted to room together, I told him bluntly that he’d better keep it tidy if he wants to share space.

“I don’t want to see one goddamned sock on the floor,” I told him.

He shrugged, tossing back his dark hair out of his face. “Fine by me. Guess I better learn to clean up after myself anyway, if we don’t have maids here.”

Like most spoiled mafia children, I’m assuming he has a full-time cleaning crew at his parents’ house.

Anyway, he’s kept to his word so far, and if he doesn’t, I’ll chuck his clothes out the fucking window. I can’t stand mess. It makes my flesh crawl. It makes me want to rip my own skin off.

I pull on the plain gray sweat shorts and white t-shirt that we’re expected to wear whenever we do combat training, or anything else physical. Even the white tube socks are mandatory.

I don’t really give a shit. I’ve never cared much about clothes.

Once I’m dressed, I slip out of the dorm down to the empty courtyard. There’s no one around, the first gray light illuminating the edges of the balustrades.

It takes me a minute to find the Armory again—I take a wrong turn, and end up on the opposite side of the building, over by a cluster of orange trees surrounding a flat, open platform that might once have been used for weapons training.

I would have walked right by, except I hear music playing.

We’re not technically supposed to have electronics at the school, though I guess it doesn’t much matter—there’s no internet connection on the island. Still, it piques my curiosity. I creep over to the orange trees and peer through the branches, looking to see who’s making the noise.

It’s a girl. A blonde girl, dressed in a black leotard and torn-up tights.

She has on a pair of extremely battered pointe shoes, and she’s dancing on the cracked stone platform like a music box ballerina up on its stand.

The music isn’t classical—it’s something wistful and moody that I haven’t heard before.

??Love Chained - Cannons

---