Page 37 of Vicious Princess
If not for my Wetran training preparing me to withstand pain, I would have already quit.
But the physical consequences are nothing. The worst part? Everyone knows about what happened.
It’s only a matter of time before someone attacks me again. I need to be ready for it. I need to find a way to prevent it. I just haven’t figure out how yet, without getting in trouble myself.
Today we have emotional-manipulation training. After my meatless yet delicious breakfast, I make my way to the lecture building and find my seat in the dark auditorium.
Emotion manipulation is my least favorite part of training. Even in Wetra, I struggled so much with it. Dad said I was a feisty child with poor impulse control since the day I entered this world.
I just hope I can manage my emotions enough to pass this training. I couldn’t afford not to before last night, but after what happened…I’m even more determined to nail this training and come out at the damn top.
My gaze slides sideways to where the redhead sits. She’s flanked by Bloom on one side and the giant on the other. She hasn’t looked my way once since we woke up this morning.
As if I don’t even exist.
As if she didn’t almost drown me in the damn fountain last night.
As if she didn’t tell me I should sleep with one eye open.
Her limp is gone, though. Those fae bastards heal quickly.
“That’s some intense eye fucking happening right there,” Roman’s voice startles me. I blink and look away from the redhead. He jerks his chin at her. “I didn’t think Kata Nightingale was your type.”
“She’s not,” I snap.
He raises his palms in defense and takes a seat. “Relax, princess. No judgment here. But I must be honest with you—you’re not her type. She’s a bit of an elitist and only dates noble fae.”
I snort. “Oh, that doesn’t surprise me at all.”
Roman’s eyes pause briefly over my neck. “I have an herbal salve that can help with bruises if you want.”
I nod. “Thank you.”
He fishes out a glass jar from his backpack and hands it to me.
“It’ll burn like a bitch, but trust the process. It works like magic,” he says.
I inspect the jar with a black homemade label. “Did you make this yourself?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Roman says, beaming. “I’m aiming for the Mender Unit. Have been making salves and elixirs since I was six years old.”
“Reflexology,” I say. He arches an eyebrow. “Now it makes sense why you know all the critical points in the body.”
“Ah, that. Yes. I don’t enjoy spilling blood or inflicting wounds. I much prefer mending the body than tearing it apart.”
“How noble.”
He bumps his shoulder into mine, and I manage a smile.
When our instructor enters the lecture hall, my shoulders sag. I’m so glad I don’t have to deal with Daegel and his roughness today.
“Good morning, cadets. I’m Ezkai Captain Cassandra Tolid, Protector Unit,” says the young fae with dark skin and blue-as-the-sky eyes.
She stands in front of us with her shoulders relaxed, hands clasped behind her back. Her black Ezkai leathers are tight, accentuating every curve of her slim and tall frame.
“As you know, emotional manipulation is one of the many gifts the spirits of the gods bestowed upon us, Decarios. Some of us are better at it, while others are a little less versed. No matterwhere you land, you can learn to take advantage of this ability to aid you when you need it.”
I sigh and look down at my open notebook.
