Page 152 of On Wings of Blood

As for Regan, I knew I’d have to talk to her one of these days. But for weeks, I’d been putting it off.

I spotted Catherine Mortis on the far side of the room. The House Leader looked as if she was enjoying herself thoroughly. Her two thralls were seated on either side of her. If you could call it seated. The three women’s bodies intertwined as they kissed and embraced, oblivious to the room around them.

For a second, I was unable to look away. They reminded me of a coil of snakes, writhing and slithering, their intimacy on full display without a care in the world for anyone watching.

Only someone with as much privilege as Catherine would feel so comfortable necking in the school refectory. I’d seen professors chide other students for much less. I seriously doubted any of them would approach Catherine, however.

Besides, I doubted Catherine was doing it for anyone’s benefit but her own. This wasn’t exhibitionist. It was simply entitled.

Catherine reminded me of Regan a little. But honestly, Catherine scared me a little more. Whenever I happened to pass her in the halls, she acted as if we were all beneath her notice. This was just one more example.

My gaze wandered away from Catherine to one of the tables reserved for students from House Orphos.

A young man was sitting alone, his eyes on the orchestra. Lysander Orphos. Naveen had pointed him out to me once briefly in the halls, but I’d never officially met him.

There was an ethereal quality to the House Orphos leader. In profile, his features were finely chiseled, even delicate. His long,silver-white hair was swept back, half up in a loose bun, while the rest fell in waves around his shoulders.

Lysander’s focus was entirely on a girl in the orchestra who was playing the violin. The girl’s eyes were closed as her bow glided over the strings. She, too, wore House Orphos colors. She resembled Lysander a great deal, though her features were softer, more delicate. I decided this must be Lunaya Orphos, Lysander’s younger sister.

As I watched them, Lysander’s gaze shifted and our eyes met. His own were a pale blue. He stared at me, completely uninhibited. But there was nothing threatening in his expression. After a moment, he inclined his head. I returned the nod.

It was a gesture of respect. Nothing more. But at that moment, I reconsidered the reputation of House Orphos. There was something about Lysander. He may have been quiet, even dreamy, but I didn’t see either of those things as signs of weakness.

As the music reached its climax, the practice seemed to wrap up. Naveen packed up his flute, said good-bye to some of his band mates, then jumped off the stage and came towards me wearing a broad grin.

“Well?” he asked, plopping down across from me. “What did you think? Pretty dull, right?”

“I think you’ve made all of us other First Years look bad,” I teased. “That was incredible, Naveen. Why didn’t you tell us you’d been given a solo?”

He shrugged modestly, but I could tell he was happy I’d noticed. “Just lucky, I guess. The ensemble leader said I had a good ear for the piece. I guess I didn’t mess it up too badly.”

“It was beautiful,” I said seriously. “Does Florence know?”

He shook his head, blushing slightly. “Not yet. I was thinking of surprising her. You know she’s always in the library or staying after class when I have practice.”

Unable to decide on a single course of study yet, Florence had done the unthinkable and committed herself to both. At least for now. Instead of choosing a strategist or healer path for the Wintermark and Springrise terms, she’d balked and refused to drop any classes. Instead she’d actually gotten permission to add more courses to her timetable.

As a result she now seemed to have a paper due almost every day and had taken to staying late after many of her classes to get extra tutoring from her professors. All of whom seemed to adore her, of course. Why wouldn’t they? Florence was serious, studious, hard-working, and brilliant.

Whereas Naveen and I were, well, coasting through. Neither of us had failed any classes yet. We had midwinter exams coming up soon, but neither of us seemed too worried about them. Apparently the ones to panic over were the ones at the end of the Springrise term, just before the summer break. That was when the real culling would happen. At least a third of the First Years wouldn’t be back next year, Florence had told me conspiratorially. If she herself was worried, she never let on.

As for me, if fighting Blake hadn’t gotten me killed or kicked out, I somehow doubted flunking an exam would do so. Still, I wanted to do as well as I could. I might not have been as perfecta student as Florence, but to my surprise I found myself putting my head down and working harder than I ever had for any of my tutors back in Camelot. Any of them but Odessa, that is.

As I studied Naveen’s glowing face, an idea was growing in my mind.

I wasn’t sure I should risk putting it into words though.

I raised an eyebrow. “That’s a nice idea.” I paused, then added, “She’s going to be so proud of you when she finds out. You’re going to sweep her off her feet with that solo.”

A flush creeped up Naveen's neck and I grinned.

“Florence already told me you’re the only First Year to make it into the band, let alone get a solo.”

Naveen put his face in his hands and groaned theatrically. “And now the real pressure’s on. The Frostfire Festival is coming up fast. Soon there will be a lot more people listening to us.”

“And one special person in particular,” I prodded, my eyes twinkling.

He looked up at me with a guilty expression. “You’ve figured it out, huh?”

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