Page 27 of Vicious Princess
“Yes, sir,” everyone chants in unison.
“Good,” the instructor says. “The Order of Ezkai is divided into five units. The Spy Unit is responsible for secret intelligence within Ekios and beyond its borders. The Protector Unit is dedicated to border security and ensuring safety in our home. The Executioner Unit is composed of the most lethal soldiers. The Scrivener Unit takes care of all the administration and strategy. And lastly, the Mender Unit keeps the rest of the units alive and in shape. During your training, you’ll be observed by Ezkai from all five units. If a unit finds you worthy, at the endof your training, you’ll receive an invitation to join. And no, before you ask, you don’t get to choose. The decision is based on the skills and abilities you showcase during your training. You’ll only have three disciplines to master—physical prowess, emotional manipulation and politics, strategy and history. Make every moment count.”
I soak in every bit of information like a sponge.
“On your feet, Oathsteel Squad! Part of your orientation is a tour of the castle grounds.”
He doesn’t have to say it twice. I rise from my seat with the rest of the group. Everyone starts lining up in a column behind him in pairs.
The redhead stands next to me, not even bothering to look at me. We shuffle out of the room into the corridor and follow the instructor out of the castle.
I’m curious to see more of the interior, to wander those moody corridors full of secrets. Where do they keep the dragons? Do they have dragon living quarters somewhere on the top floors?
We take the path down the hill where Ezkai Castle is, then turn right. The grounds are large and confusing. Many paths weave between the lush gardens and even an orchard. We pass a few groups of Ezkai, and they eye us with disdain and mocking smirks.
Not all fae Decarios in Ekios are from high society, but Ezkai are sure as fuck elitists.
Behind the hill and the castle is a cluster of four one-story buildings. The exteriors match the castle, the rough dark stone sucking in all the daylight. The red clay roofs offer a muted pop of color, but most of it is overgrown with deep-purple moss.
In the middle is a stone-paved square with a fountain statue in the center. It portrays two dragons lost in a dance, theirsnakelike bodies weaving together as they spew water out of their open jaws the way they’d spew fire if they were alive.
The instructor’s steps halt, and he turns to face us.
“This is where your training will take place for the next six months. You’ll sleep, eat, and train with the squad you were assigned to,” he says. He points at the building on his left. “That’s where you’ll be attending lectures, and can find a library and a quiet study hall.” He points at the place next to it. “Communal dining is right there. Breakfast is served at six in the morning sharp. Lunch is at noon, and dinner is at six in the evening. If you’re late, you don’t get a meal.”
My stomach growls at that. My redheaded companion throws me an unimpressed glance. I grind my teeth in silence.Why is she so uptight?
“That right there”—the instructor points at the building on his right—“has the training hall, and all your physical training will take place there. Behind it there is an outside training area.” He points at the last building. “The barracks where you’ll be spending all your time when you’re not training.”
The sight of the small windows that line the walls of the barracks worries me. But I say nothing. Lack of natural light in my room is the least of my concerns.
“Why are you standing there?” the instructor barks. “Go inside and get settled!”
Over a dozen pairs of feet shuffle forwards. The instructor waits for us to enter the barracks and only then follows us inside.
It’s just as dark and depressing as I expected. A long, dimly lit corridor stretches in front of us.
“Your living quarters are the third door on the left,” the instructor calls from behind. “Each new cadet group lives together until graduation day.”
Our living quarters are humble. All we have are eight bunk beds stacked against two opposite walls and two wooden cratespushed under the beds, which I assume is where we’ll keep our personal belongings.
I pick the bed closest to the entrance and toss my stuff on the top bunk.
“Excuse me, sir.” The instructor turns his attention to me. “Is there a…bathroom?”
“There is a common bathroom at the end of the corridor,” he says.
My heart sinks.Fuck me. The thought of showering with a dozen other Decarios—naked, with my scars on display for everyone’s judgment—makes my skin crawl.
“Remember, you’re allowed to roam the castle grounds. Everything you need, you can find here,” the instructor says. “Leaving is not permitted, unless you have permission from one of your instructors and a damn good reason.”
Without another word, he leaves.
A tall fae with broad shoulders, dark skin, and friendly dark eyes approaches me. He jerks his chin at the empty bottom bunk. “Do you mind?”
I shake my head and move out of his way. He flashes me a smile, and I’m so baffled by it that I simply stare at him.
Thankfully, he doesn’t take my rudeness personally. He offers me his hand. “Roman Barthol.”
