I told Rian that I wouldn’t take any chosen without talking to him first. Shoving the mild panic away, I take a breath, forcing myself to tune back into the conversation.
Tereza is talking.
“Students stay for a variety of —”
“And one of those reasons is no one gives a shit about them.” Sully sneers dismissively. “Or the assholes who occasionally feign to give a shit are too busy to play at it. I know, don’t I?”
Tereza sighs.
I rescue her. “I’m certain lunch will be lovely. Also unnecessary. I just thought it would create a more comfortable atmosphere.”
“After Bastian almost executed Radek and Lukas for the treason of touching you?” Sully asks me while looking pointedly at Tereza. It is neither a question nor a condemnation of my father. “You’re lucky Mirth is so forgiving, Lady Landenberg. Soul bound or not, losing your chosen, no matter how stupid they might be, would be —”
I breach all sorts of protocol to lay my hand on Sully’s wrist. His gaze instantly snaps to me. The frown marring his forehead eases until his eyes are once again crinkling at the edges. Not smiling, but pleased that I’m touching him.
“I am blessed by Her Highness’s intervention,” Tereza says quietly, though I know by the set of her shoulders that she’s hiding her clenched hands in her lap.
“A misunderstanding,” I say smoothly, speaking to Sully and knowing he has only Bolan’s accounting of events to go by. “As I’m sure you heard.”
Sully twists his lips, not outright disagreeing with me. Not while in public, at least.
The door opens, and two staff members enter with covered plates. We sit in silence — me smiling politely — as we are served, and the trays are removed to reveal a chicken breast stuffed with spinach and wild rice. I hum appreciatively as Tereza waves off the staff.
I carefully slice off a bit of chicken, dipping it in the creamy sauce that also coats the stuffing. I eat it, chewing thoughtfully. Tereza and Sully both start eating after I do.
I set my knife and fork down, taking another sip of water. “We aren’t waiting on a fourth?” I ask.
Tereza’s gaze flicks to the fourth chair. “No, Your Highness. I wasn’t certain who you would have accompanying you. Even after … Lord Savoy messaged.”
I typically never went anywhere unaccompanied by a friend or family member. Honestly, I never went anywhere with less than twenty-four hours’ notice. At all.
“As I broached in my email, I want to discuss the establishment of a perpetual scholarship … two yearly scholarships, to be specific. To be paid for by the foundation I’m establishing for Armin. He … we … spent the bulk of our lives here, learning who we … were …”
Tereza nods politely, ignoring that I can’t speak about Armin in the past tense without my heart cracking, just a little. “Of course. I’ve got the preliminary paperwork ready for your lawyers. Specifically, what the Phrontistery requires to help you establish and maintain the scholarships. But if the sponsorship is coming from a private foundation, then you, rather than the school board, oversee the yearly allotments.”
“Yes,” I say, still a bit shaky. “Or … I’ll likely find a director or two with more experience. But it’s the criteria that I’m … it’s not just grades and an entrance exam, correct? I assume that the Phrontistery must have requirements or a way to assess … essence … abilities?” I feel absolutely stupid, asking about things I should probably already know or inherently understand. My place in this school would never have been questioned, even without the color of my eyes proclaiming me as one of the awry since birth.
“You have kids in mind, Mirth?” Sully asks almost gently.
I nod. “Two. I’m not certain of their designations, but I believe they are both awry blooded. Would you require them to be tested?”
Tereza pauses thoughtfully. “The Phrontistery isn’t … and especially not here in Prague …” She rethinks what she wants to say a second time. “You might not know, Your Highness, but —”
“The rich shits that go here are fucking brutal to anyone who isn’t powerful enough to put them down.” Sully leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Even worse if they don’t come with the right pedigree.”
“Or have powerful friends,” Tereza says, eyeing Sully right back.
He snorts, but more in acknowledgement than derision. Then a sharp-edged smile overtakes his face. “The Savoy bond group will fund the refurbishment of Moravia Hall.”
Both Tereza and I blink at the fabricator mage.
Sully predictably smirks back, mostly at me. “You’ll rename it Savoy House. And Mirth’s scholarship kids will be among the first residents this fall.”
“The Savoy bond group?” I ask quietly.
He nods. “Elias says going around and getting our name on shit is part of establishing ourselves. I was pissed he sent me. But then I found you here, my darling Princess.”
Tereza’s gaze rapidly flicks between us once more. Then she laughs, sharp-edged and completely delighted. “Gods. The Mertons are going to be fucking pissed.”
