Page 115 of Vicious Princess
Roman chuckles. “Someone’s keeping you up all night long?”
I shoot him a glare over my shoulder, but offer no response to that.
After the last mission, the barracks are emptier. Whoever is left is getting ready to leave. It’s the weekly Bloodiamond game night at Fern’s. The one to which I’m never invited?—
“Wildarrow, you coming?”
I lift my eyes from my boot to see Fern standing over me. Yeah. She’s definitely looking at me, waiting for my answer.
“Ah—I’m not?—”
“Sure as fuck she is.” Roman rolls out of his bunk with grace. He jerks his chin at Fern. “We’ll catch up with you in a bit.”
She nods and walks away with Bloom and the giant in her wake, the rest of the cadets following them.
I blink at Roman. “Did she just invite me to the game night at her parents’ estate?”
“Yes, she did. You better put that boot back on. Let’s go.”
I frown. “Why? She never did before.”
Roman shrugs. “The winds have shifted, the tide has changed, blah, blah, whatever blah. Who cares, princess?”
Quickly, I lace my boot back up and stuff my feet into the other.
“Are they going to try to kill me?”
“Not that I’m aware.”
I push to my feet. “But you’d tell me if you were aware this time around?”
Roman purses his lips. “Probably.”
Not very assuring, but I guess I’ll take it.
Roman drops a hand over my shoulders and walks us towards the door. “Come on, princess. You definitely earned one night of fun.”
“You’re fucking cheating!”Bloom points an accusing finger at Roman, who’s sweeping all the money in the middle of the round table towards the pile next to him while he cackles.
Roman sends her an air kiss, then chirps, “Just because you can’t play cards for shit, it doesn’t mean I’m a cheat, sweet flower.”
Everyone at the table bursts into laughter. Bloom snarls at Roman, but lets it go. Fern is already dealing another round.
“I had no clue you’re good at cards,” I tell Roman.
He sends me a flirtatious wink. “I’m good at many things, princess.”
I roll my eyes.
Fern Silva’s family estate is in Yursus, and it’s gorgeous. Reminds me of my family home in Wetra, with tall white columns lining the entrance and large windows all over the place that create that calming indoor-outdoor feel.
The table we sit at is made from heavy cream marble, and the chairs are upholstered with the softest velvet. I can’t stop running my hands over the arms of my chair.
I feel extremely out of place here tonight, but so far nobody has tried to drown me in the large fountain by the entrance. Everyone acts as if this isn’t my first time being invited.
As if all these motherfuckers haven’t been ignoring my presence and snickering at all the wild rumors circulating.
I knew Nightingale was influential, but I had no clue she dictated all the social rules for our group. Now that she’s gone, everyone’s hate for me seems to be gone, too.
