“No. It’s this or our courts lose our power. We’d be at risk of war with the wild dragons of the West,” he answers me. “And they would invade us, rip our people apart, if we lost our power.”

Grayson doesn’t answer any more questions and begins training, but this time, he is softer with me. Every time the vine man pins me to the mat, he makes sure that he doesn’t leave me pinned too long this time. The hits aren’t as harsh, not as brutal as usual. I think he feels sorry for me, and that…I don’t know why I feel more embarrassed about that than what Desmerda did to me yesterday. Lysander healing me, and me blurting out random things to them when I was drunk, and now a panic attack. I really want to bury my head in a sandpit. I don’t even want to think back to the riding-a-dragon comments. So embarrassing. Arden and Emrys are bad influences.

The vine man disappears into leaves that blow away in the wind as a door appears. Grayson crosses his arms. “You should go. If you have a breakdown again…tell the castle to find me. Go, you don’t want to be late.”

Pure fear stakes through my chest, and Grayson frowns, clearly picking up on my fear. He takes a step forward, but I leave before he can ask anything. I rush out of the room through the open door and head down the corridor. My whole body is shaking, and I clasp my hands tightly shut into a fist as I get to the staircase with the rest of the group to wait for Desmerda. Arty comes over to my side, all smiles, but her eyes are worried. “Are you okay?”

I don’t have the strength to speak. I turn away, noticing Hope and Livia are nearby, leaning against the wall and talking quietly. The rest of the group are chattering, and yet I can’t focus. Everyone goes silent, and I look up, surprised to see Matron hobbling down the stairs. Gasps echo around the room, and I realise that she’s dragging a body behind her. She leaves the body on the steps, moving aside so everyone can see. The white, blood-soaked cloak is all I see at first, and then her silver hair…Desmerda. She is dead. There are cuts across her neck, arms, and stomach, and she is soaking wet, some bits of her frozen. A few girls throw up, and Arty covers her face with her hands. I can’t look away from Desmerda’s unseeing eyes, and I smile, my shoulders relaxing. I shouldn’t be happy she is dead, but I am.

I’m so fucking relieved.

Matron looks over her shoulder as a young man walks down the stairs. He’s wearing the same cloak as Desmerda’s, but a white suit underneath instead. Clearly, he is from wherever she came from. His hair is black, spiked to the side with gel, and his eyes are pure red, too, but not as creepy as Desmerda’s were. All over his skin is more of the markings that we have, but in a pearly purple colour. He stops at the side of Matron. “This is your new tutor, Xandry. As you can see, Desmerda suffered a terrible accident.”

She pauses, looking directly at me. Several eyes turn my way too, following her gaze. “Therefore, she will be buried instead of teaching you today.”

She clicks her fingers, and the body disappears. Arty sighs. “So gross.”

My hand flies to my neck as I realise something. Did Lysander kill her? Did he kill her because she hurt me? It’s the only explanation for it, but it makes no sense that he’d care enough to do that. There were little bits of ice I saw on her, all the cuts like mine on my back. He’s a psychopath, so I know he has it in him. But to do that for me…that’s insane. He hates me as much as I hate him. I know he only healed me so I wouldn’t die and mess up his plan. Matron walks back up the steps. “I will leave you in his tutorage.”

Xandry takes her place on the steps, closing his hands in front of him. “Welcome. I am originally from the Water Court, and I joined the Twilight many years ago.”

“What’s the Twilight?” someone asks.

Xandry frowns. “I see my colleague was not teaching you very appropriately. The Twilight is a religious part of our community, dating back thousands of years. We are called to announce births, lead mating ceremonies, guide young dragons, and perform funeral rites in all the courts. We are neutral in court wars. Anyone from any court can enter it. We take many vows, and our lives are in service of the mighty dragon gods.”

“Mighty dragon gods?” I ask.

Xandry frowns. “You really don’t know this?”

No one says yes. “Right, the mighty dragon gods made this world. There were five of them, each representing an element.”

“There are only four elemental courts,” Livia questions.

Xandry doesn’t answer her. “I’m here to teach you. I understand you’re mostly doing combat training and a few lessons on history here and there. I don’t see the point in teaching you too much of the histories, considering that most of you will die, and the ones who are left will be taught by historians in their own courts as they become queen. I do believe in teaching you to defend yourself.” He looks around the room, pausing on Hope. They stare at each other for a second too long, a hint of recognition between them, like maybe they knew each other. “Defending yourself will be vital because there are many threats within this world. Threats that will always be there for royals. You’ll need to know how to defend yourself well and how to defend any children that you might have. So, I will take you two at a time and watch your individual skills so I can best judge how to help.”

He picks two girls at the front. “The rest of you wait here.”

They follow him up the stairs and into the classroom, and most of the girls burst out into whispers. I walk to the side, around them and to the back. I sit on the bottom step of a staircase. Arty follows me over, sitting close. “I’m your friend,” she tells me softly, quietly. “I know you’ve got a lot going on. You’ve been disappearing some nights. But you’re the best of us. If you die, if you break down, then the rest of us have no chance. So please talk to me. I can help you, and I will keep your secrets.”

I look into her eyes. “I was late for Desmerda’s lesson yesterday, so she whipped my back until it was a bloody mess and I passed out.”

She gasps in horror, covering her mouth, her eyes filling with tears. I gulp and continue. “I barely made it back to my room with the castle’s help. When I woke up, Lysander was healing me.”

“King Lysander?”

I nod. “Yes, he healed me. He was furious about what happened when I told him.”

We both look at the steps where Desmerda’s body just was. “Do you think he killed her for you? Why would he do that?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Why the hell would he do that for me? That’s insane.”

“Maybe because he likes you and wants you as his queen,” she blurts out. “I mean, I’ve noticed he is always looking at you. They all are always looking at you. Dragons can be quite protective of things they consider theirs.”

“What the fuck did you just say, you stupid bitch?” Hope shouts, stomping towards us from the shadows at the side of the staircase.

I step in front of Arty. “No, you don’t get to take your anger out on her. Maybe you shouldn’t have been eavesdropping.”

She steps right up into my face. “Maybe you should stay the fuck away from men that aren’t yours. He. Is. Mine.” She sneers at me. “I’m warning you now, princess,” she hisses, mimicking Arden’s nickname for me. “I don’t care which one of the dragon kings you’re fucking, but it will not be Lysander. That throne is mine. He is mine. You stay the fuck away from him, or I will kill you. Do you understand?”