Page 71 of A Heart of Bluestone

And with that season coming up at the New Year, and no betrothal to my name, I’ll be in with the last picks. The scraps. Among the ones like Mildred and Melody,gentries.

I don’t know of a single aristos debutante who isn’t spoken for, whose contracts haven’t been tied to a suitor.

Just me.

We all know why.

So my options are gentry—and I wonder, maybe that is why Eric Harling is flirting this year. Why he is warmer with me than he has ever been in all the years at the academy.

Is he flirting—or courting?

He knows my father will be open to offers outside of the aristos this year. Whether or not my father will truly consider anything he thinks beneath me or the family, that all depends on how desperate he is to marry me off and get me out of the house, and if this mysterious aristos suitor drops out of the picture.

My mind is spiralling, out of control.

I ground myself and focus on one thing at a time.

Eric.

A safety net.

“What if I like someone?” I ask, quiet. “What if there is someone who—you might think beneath me but—is kind?”

Silence is my answer.

For a long moment, the receiver just crackles, the interference of condensed magic graining the connection.

“Crushes pass.” That’s the answer he gives. Firm. Unyielding. Then, he adds, “If you wish, this favourite of yours is free to extend an offer. I will consider it with a clear mind and a fair heart.”

The last part stings.

With a clear mind and a fair heart.

He doesn’t trust me to make the right decision for myself, because I am clouded. Illogical. Emotional.

Father at least has the decency to release me from the call. He doesn’t stick around for small talk or even bring up my grades, which I am sure he knows are mediocre, all except Brews and Theory, and that’s all thanks to Dray.

But I would never thank Dray, not with sincerity.

Father lets me go.

I head straight to the mess hall to fill up on breakfast. And by the time I’m done, abandoning my tray on the table, it’s almost 10AM, and so most of the students should be up and about now, maybe down at the village, but I don’t expect that is where I will find Courtney, not with so many assignments due this Monday. A lot.

I head to the study hall.

I find her tucked at the end of the long, narrow table. Only the one table can fit into the window-walled room that I suspect was once an arch or a bridge of sorts before it was converted.

I pass Landon and Dray down the length of the table. The latter doesn’t even lift his gaze to me.

If what Serena said is true, and he has sicked up from breaking the dare, there is no reason for him to stick to the promise. He could makut me now, and nothing ill will come to him.

Yet he doesn’t even look at me.

I suspect Serena’s a liar.

I step into the bench tucked to the table, then drop down with a grunt.

Courtney glances up from her inked papers, scraps and scrunched up pieces littered all over, and some empty mugs of coffee she’s been refilling from the machine in the corner.

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