Page 36 of House of Lilith

“Are you taking Theory of Magic?” he asks. “I’m in Level Three this year.”

“Level Four,” I say as I keep leading us down the gallery.

I feel the need to glance at him, finding his eyebrows raised at me.

“They let me advance so I could take some extra courses my final year,” I explain, but then I turn my focus back onto the task at hand. I motion to my right. “Now, your professors’ offices are mostly located in Grimm Tower…”

I stop to peer into one of the hallways, a little helplessly. “But right here,somewhere, you’ll find Professor Dunne.”

I turn my eyes back onto him, explaining, “He likes to move around.”

But I find him inspecting one of the empty suits of armor displayed along the walls.

“What’s this?” he asks as he throws me a glance, pointing at the crest. “It says Romanov. Is this your family’s?”

“It is,” I say, and I move to keep walking.

I stop as soon as I realize he’s not following.

I frown as I turn to look at him, finding him inspecting the painting next to the suit. “This, too?”

I have to fight not to let out a sigh. “Look,” I say as I walk back up to him, trying not to sound annoyed, “I’m glad to see you’re finding the Academy interesting, but if we stop to take a look at every little thing, we’ll never be done.”

His eyebrows shoot up. Then his lips curl into a smirk. “Alright, I’ll behave.” And he pauses for a second before he drags his eyes down my dress. “Your Highness.”

It makes me want to gouge his eyes out. Instead, I ignore his little stab, I take a deep breath, I say, “Good,” and I keep going down the gallery, headed straight for the elevator that’ll lead us to Level Minus Three.

I sense him try to catch up with me, but my mind is still buzzing from the way he just blatantly mocked the way I look in this fucking outfit, so I pick up the pace so we’re not walking side by side.

I listen to him fall into step somewhere behind me, a little to the right. As we walk, I try to focus on taking the most efficient route. But every couple of fucking seconds, I see some girl eyeing him, a lot of them either shyly or openly seductively saying hi to him. I roll my eyes and I keep walking, choosing to ignore everything but the task at hand.

Then, after a couple of long moments of silence, I start to hear this soft, playful sound from behind my back.

Whistling.

Frowning, I slow down a little, my head snapping back to him.

He keeps walking, but he stops whistling, his eyebrows shooting up and his lips curling into a smile as he mouths, “What?”

“Nothing,” I snap and I turn my eyes back ahead.

But now my ears are burning.

It’s just as we’re almost in front of the elevator that I sense him get closer, his arm brushing mine for a split second when he leans to ask, “Where’re we going, if you don’t mind me asking?

I only throw him a side-eye glance. “A former classroom on Level Minus Three.”

He darts around me to block my way again, making me stop midstep. He has his hands in his pockets, his head tilted at me. “Why there?”

It makes me frown, his question, as well as the fact I notice how broad his shoulders are. “What we need to do next,” I tell him in my most official voice, “is cover all the Restricted Areas. Then I’m going to show you around the administrative offices, so you know where to go in case of any problems—”

“How ‘bout this?” he asks with an amused smile. “If I ever find myself inadministrativetrouble, I’ll just ask someone to point me in the right direction. Wouldthatwork?”

I feel a need to protest, but this kind of thing is something every student around herewouldknow about. “I guess.”

And just as I’m about to open my mouth to say that that doesn’t solve the issue of Restricted Areas, he says, “As for Restricted Areas, there are currently three of them, right?

Squinting, I open my mouth to answer him, but his question turns out to be a rhetorical one.

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