Page 40 of A Heart of Bluestone

Did Asta spend all that time, all those hours, in the room just waiting for a way to lure me out? She must have known I would need to use the bathroom at some point. Maybe I am wrong, maybe she truly did try to sleep and I annoyed her so much that she decided to throw me into Dray’s warpath so she could get some shut eye.

Or maybe the witch stayed awake,waiting.

Dray had a lookout in the cigar room, while he enjoyed his time in the grand parlour, and that lookout snitched.

Asta must have known that, known that Mikal was there.

A bitter laugh escapes me.

Courtney frowns my way, a touch of worry on her twisted mouth.

But I let the laugh jolt my chest.

Because I am a fucking idiot.

I’m going to need to tread awfully careful this year.

At least better than I have been doing.

I spend so much time locked up in the dorm room, rushing through my assignments, that I manage to hand them all in before the morning of the weekend.

How decent the assignments are is questionable, but at least they are done. Most teachers tend to up-score me anyway, given my surname, or they take pity on me for my handicap.

Either way, I take the extra grade.

Keeps my father somewhat happy with me.

The last assignment in my hand, the folded notebook paper of scribbles and rubbed out pencil markings, is the one I delayed turning in.

Save the best for last, right?

I make my way through the chilly corridors of the old chalet. My tights are thermal-lined, but they do only so much to stop the cold of the night air from creeping over my legs. My slippers scuff and slap on the floors as I rush to the East Quarter, where the tower reaches up to the misty skies.

I don’t know if Eric is on duty tonight, if he is teacher or student, if he will even be in the tower at all. But I prepared for the maybe. I pinched my cheeks, lightly colour blotted my lips,brushed out my braids into soft waves, and tugged on an off-the-shoulder ivory sweater that shows the distinct lack of bra strap down my left shoulder.

It’s bold of me to assume he will even notice—or care.

But I have to be a little on the bold side.

My latest encounter with Dray, it just reinforces my need for protection. The ultimate protection for a woman witch in my world is marriage.

Not to get ahead of myself, but this bold flirtation, it is little more than playing politics.

As my wretched Grandmother Ethel sometimes says, ‘Those who wait are left behind.’

I’m already lagging.

So I go looking for Eric Harling.

But he finds me, instead.

A door opens down the corridor that separates me from the mouth of the tower’s zigzagging staircase—and Eric steps out of the small faculty lounge tucked down the way.

“Hey!” Ok, sue me, I couldn’t come up with a better way to get his attention. I don’t know whether to call him Eric or Sir, but I got the result because he arches a brow right at me.

His lashes flutter with a hesitant blink before he pulls away from the door with a small smile tugging at his rosy lips.

My cheeks are hot, flushed, as I make to close the distance between us. “Um, I have my—” I flap the folded paper. “—assignment. And uh, I know I wasn’t in class, so… I came to apologise for that.”

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