Page 157 of A Heart of Bluestone

I take the staircase down to the grand parlour—and since it’s so close to midnight on a weekday, it’s empty, save for some seniors still scribbling down assignments at the desks, and a pair of Snakes on the couch by the fireplace.

I don’t have the energy to glower at them.

Tucked up against the couch’s curved leather arm, Asta spares me a dark look before she returns to her Italian Vogue.

Serena is the one who lingers her stare. It’s brimmed with pity. Her mouth is stroked across her face in a flat line.

I turn my cheek to her and make for the noticeboard.

The list is up.

Fresh crisp paper tacked to the cork.

I run my gaze down the long, long list of detention victims.

My gaze lingers over Piper. Paired with Mikhal. And attendance required at the stables.

I grimace for them.

The stables are tucked at the back of the school, but still outside, in this weather, in this cold, in this mist.

I read on.

OLIVER CRAVEN.

His name will come first, by the alphabetical order of our first names. I read that he’s paired with Teddy, and that they are to attend to the kitchens.

Lucky fuckers. Probably chopping fruit and veg, washing dishes, snacking on whatever they can when the staff turn their backs.

I drop my gaze to my name.

OLIVIA CRAVEN.

ATTENDANCE REQUIRED AT: WEST DUNGEON.

TASK: SORT BROKEN ITEMS INTO WASTE & REPAIR.

PARTNER…

A guttural sound crawls through me.

DRAY SINCLAIR.

No.

There’s no way.

The chances are slim to almost none that I was paired with him of all people. The headmaster isn’t that stupid. He wouldn’t risk it.

I turn my numb stare to the couch by the fireplace.

Serena’s gaze is still glued to me. The corners of her mouth tuck into her cheeks just that bit more.

“He did this,” I say, and I meant to ask, but my tone is dull and breathy.

Serena nods, once. A curt and fleeting gesture that, when Asta looks up from her magazine, Serena stills.

So Dray got here before I did.

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