Page 22 of This Monster of Mine

Magi bustled about the Academiae’s candlelit dining hall, long tables bursting with food and chatter. The Petitors had their own round table. Students nudged each other, pointing at them, before speeding off when Harion waved back.

Sarai numbly speared a chunk of beef and brought it to her lips. It didn’t smell like human flesh. She almost laughed. Yesterday, she hadn’t known what a roasting man smelled like. She chewed, barely registering the flavor. The tightness that had built in her chest throughout her journey back from the Aequitas grew a little sharper with every breath.

Not now. She couldn’t panic in front of everyone.

A few magi-in-training sidled up to the table, bashfully extending their congratulations. She took the chance to shovel down food, her plate nearing empty by the time Harion resurfaced from the compliments with an even larger head.

“Gods, to be that young.” He laughed.

Anek rolled their eyes. “You’re only nineteen.”

“In a few days, we age out of the Academiae. Then, it’s on to purchasing a domus. We aren’t measly Candidates anymore.”

“Measly Candidates get to eat here. Petitors have to fend for their meals.” They bit into a skewer of spiced beef. “By Harvest, I’m going to miss this spread. Taverns just aren’t the same.”

“Try getting your name on a waitlist for a scutum,” he muttered. “The Metals Guild said it’d bethree months. What the fuck do I do if lightning hits my home?”

Anek shrugged. “Wish you were a measly Candidate safely cloistered in Lisran Tower.”

Sarai made a mental note to join the waitlist. If it hadn’t been for the garden folly last night, her fate wouldn’t have been dissimilar from Ennius’s. Her stomach soured, recalling who’d led her to that folly.

She forced down a final bite. “Is Kadra always like that? It was like he knew that Ennius was guilty.”

“He probably did,” Anek confirmed. “That man is uncannily accurate at reading people.”

“He’s vile.” Cisuré set down her glass with a thud. “It’s a travesty that he was elected.”

“Well, people love him.” Harion swiped some beef off Cisuré’s plate. “He speaks to their, ah, bloodthirstiness. Get used to it, Saint. As of today, we control all those people.”

“Weservethem,” Sarai said coldly, blocking his fork as it attempted to thieve from her plate. Anek’s gaze flickered to her as Harion snorted.

“This from the girl who just burned a man alive on Kadra’s orders.” He rapped his fork against the table. “Climb off that self-righteous horse.”

Years of practice kept her face blank. “You’re on a pretty high horse yourself, lecher. I could help you dismount.”

“Sarai.” Cisuré gripped her wrist, eyes pleading.

“Oh, Sarai,” he mimicked. “I’d make your goodbyes now, Saint. Your friend won’t last long.”

Sarai arched an eyebrow. “Harion, you’re wasted as a Petitor. There’s a future for you in shoddy soothsaying.”

His smile was pure spite. “Listen here, barmaid. Your vows were to your Tetrarch first, and everything else second. It’s in the fucking wording. But you, on your little self-righteous crusade, just showedeveryonethat your loyalty is to your own judgment. Now, Kadra is the most popular Tetrarch we’ve seen in decades. What do you think people will do to you for slighting him? Between them and him, you won’t last a month with the impression you’ve made.”

Havïd,he has a point. Determined to wipe off his smirk, she shrugged. “Bet on it if you’re so sure, then. A hundred aurei if I survivethreemonths.”

Anek choked on their drink. Squeezing Cisuré’s shoulder when she made to protest, Sarai held out a hand. Harion gaped, then seized it with greasy fingers. Holding back a flinch, she withdrew quickly.

“A hundred aurei it is.” His eyes gleamed. “I’ll see your corpse soon.”

A crimson veil slammed over her vision. Reining in the memory, she pasted on a pitying look. “If only—” She froze.

If only that were true. Her fork clattered on her plate. Gold winked from her sleeves, and she almost screamed at the realization that she was still wearing Kadra’s robes.

“Sarai?” Cisuré whispered.

Her lungs constricted, bright spots filling her vision. The dining hall went hazy, the sharp tightness in her chest, warning her that she’d put the panic attack off for too long.

She stood quickly. “Just tired. Goodnight.”

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