In history, Professor Borromeo called on me first thing. “Princess, tell us about Biringan’s break from the human world.”
Luckily, I’d paid attention last time. “A war broke out because humans and encantos did not agree about how to treat the land,” I said. “Afterward, humans lost touch with magic. Their knowledge of the enchanted ones faded over time, aside from myth.”
Amador raised her hand primly. As soon as Professor Borromeo acknowledged her, she looked right at me and said, “The split ushered in an age of darkness and ignorance in the human realm.” She’d repeated that directly from the text, putting forth the now-familiar story that Biringan was a utopian paradise while the human world was a mess. It was so one-sided. Impulsively, I raised my hand.
“Princess?” Professor Borromeo called on me, somewhat surprised that I’d volunteered to ask a question after how quiet and reluctant I’d been up to that point. “Do you have a comment?” she asked.
“It’s just that—” I paused, realizing there was no way for me to talk about my mother without giving away too much about my private life, so I changed tack. “Aren’t encantos guilty of some of the same atrocities as humans?”
If my classmates were drowsing off before, they weren’t now. The air in the room changed completely. Everyone perked up, probably curious how the professor would respond to such an inflammatory question. A couple of them shook their heads in disgust. Most of them stared at me, in shock. I knew it was a provocative thing to say. I didn’t know it would be quite so shocking to everyone, though.
I looked at Professor Borromeo, expecting to see anger or disappointment. Instead, she looked excited. “Let’s explore what the princess said, shall we?” She began pacing around the room. “What do you all think? Are we as guilty as the humans?”
“No,” someone said from the back of the room. He was sitting back with his arms crossed, defensive. “That’s ridiculous.”
Then another voice piped up. “She has a point. We have war just as the humans do; we have murder. And what about the humans who can’t leave our world? The black rice, for example.”
“Nobody actually ‘tricks’ any human into eating the black rice. That’s absurd,” someone added.
“Yes, they do,” another said. “One of the shopkeepers in town, her father was human, and he was fooled into eating the black rice, and he was stuck here forever.”
“None of the shopkeepers are hapcantos,” someone scoffed.
“Class! Please remember to raise your hands before speaking.” Professor Borromeo tried, hopelessly, to rein everyone in and maintain some kind of decorum. But no one seemed to hear her. They were all turned in their seats, interrupting one another.
“They have to stay because we need to protect ourselves. They shouldn’t rejoin humanity knowing we exist and jeopardize our safety!” someone called out, at the same time as another said, “Don’t tell me you believe we kidnap humans against their will. They’re trespassers. Theywantto be here. They eat the rice on purpose so we can’t kick them out.” To that, the youngest in the class, a small girl who usually sat in the corner desk, nervously twisting the ends of her hair, said, “I don’t think that’s fair.”
The arguments took up the rest of the class time. I don’t think we ever came anywhere near an agreement. I wasn’t even sure what I thought anymore—having seen both worlds now, I could safely say neither one was entirely innocent or guilty. When we were dismissed, Professor Borromeo stopped me on my way out the door. “I just wanted to tell you...” she began. I felt like I was about tobe reprimanded. But then she continued, “I really appreciate your thought-provoking contribution today. It really started a lively discussion.”
“Oh, thanks,” I said.
“I hope you’ll continue to pose difficult questions,” Professor Borromeo called after me as I walked out the door.
I got to my next class, Pagkahari at Paggalang, before Amador and Lucas. A relief. I hated walking in while they stared at me, Amador inevitably whispering something rude to him while he smirked and doodled on his parchment. I was able to get situated before they sauntered in. Amador tried to stare me down, but I pretended like I didn’t even notice she was there, focusing on reviewing my notes instead. She made lots of noise and let out her shrillest giggle in an attempt to make me look up. It didn’t work. Then Nix arrived and took the seat next to mine, saving me from any more of Amador’s pathetic theatrics.
“Hey,” Nix said cheerfully. “So. Are you ready for our official royal training?”
“You know it.”
“They’ll turn us intoproper señoritasone of these days.”
“I sure hope not. I kind of enjoy being a teenage dirtbag.”
Nix laughed. Amador got quiet all of a sudden. I sneaked a glance at her. She was digging through the glittery tote she always carried at school, as if she was super intent on finding something lost at the bottom. But really, she was trying to eavesdrop on our conversation.
Professor Manatubay cleared his throat at the front of the room. I hadn’t even noticed him until then. We all stopped what we were doing and sat up straight in our desks. He had that effecton people. “Today we are going to practice proper etiquette when meeting with emissaries from other courts.” There was a barely detectable collective groan. He ignored it (or didn’t notice) and went on: “We’ll work through a series of scenarios in pairs.” Amador nudged Lucas, indicating they’d work together. Professor Manatubay did not see that, though. “I’ve taken the liberty of choosing your partners already, to better portray real-life situations.”
Amador made a pouty face. I was surprised she didn’t stomp her feet, too.
“Once I call your names, please find your partner.” He started going through a list. I listened as the small class was paired off, dismayed as the names quickly dwindled. “Phoenix, you’ll work with Amador. Lucas, you’ll work with the princess.” Figured. Nix and I exchanged a look.
Neither of our assigned partners made a move to join us, so Nix and I stood and went to the front of the room, taking the two desks behind them. Amador turned around and smiled at Nix. “Let’s make this as painless as possible, shall we?”
“That’s totally up to you,” Nix said, giving her an equally fake smile in return. Amador didn’t understand that Nix was insulting her.
Lucas still had his back turned to me. He was putting the final touches on one of his drawings. I tried to take a peek at it without being too obvious, expecting something stereotypically masculine, like a video game character or whatever the equivalent might be in Biringan. Instead, I was surprised to see a detailed floral pattern, a vine of sampaguita flowers. He dropped the quill and turned around to face me. I looked down at my own notes. Hopefully he didn’t notice I’d been looking.
“Let’s sit in the back,” he said.
