“Of course, milady. How may I be of service?”
“These men are being very…” I pointed at the three of them, enjoying the way their faces turned to stone. “Persistent. Would you escort me to the art studio?”
“Are they indeed?” His own expression turned hard, right before he offered me his arm. “Of course, Lady…?”
“Fern,” I replied, wrapping my hand his leather clad forearm. There was a satisfaction to be gained from seeing Kael, Lorien, and this Dain fellow’s expressions growing thunderous. “And may I know the name of my saviour?”
“Hardly a saviour.” The rider smiled nonetheless, obviously pleased by the title. “And it’s Slade, milady. Now, the first year art studios are this way.”
Slade was like a great ship, slicing through the waves of other cadets, forcing them to step aside and let us move down the hallway at speed. The silver dragon riders had no such luck. As I glanced over my shoulder, the mass of students closed around us, so each man trailed along far behind us.
“Here we are.” Slade turned to me once we reached the doorway of the studio and right when I was about to thank him for his time, a hand landed on the wall above my head. My eyes went wide as he leaned in, staring down at me. “So you’re one of the new cadets?”
“Ah, yes…” I stammered out.
“Figured.” His eyes slid down my body and I was beginning to think it wasn’t to make sure my uniform was in order. “I’d remember if I saw a pretty girl like you in the dining hall.”
“Oh… ah…” Gods, what the hell did I say? It felt like all of my training was lost as the man smiled down at me. “Thank you? Yes, thank you for getting me to class in one piece. If there’s ever anything?—?”
“Have lunch with me.” I was just repeating the pat phrases we all used when someone did us a service, but I’d never had anyone actually take the offer up before. His smile widened. “Riders eat on the floor above the cadet’s mess. Come up there when the lunch bell rings or…” He glanced down at my schedule then back at me. “Or I can come by history class and escort you up to lunch. You’ll be looking for some relief after sitting through one of Christian’s interminably boring lectures.”
“I quite like history.” That came out far more abruptly than I meant it too. “But of course, I’d be happy to dine with you.”
“Can’t wait.”
With a flick of his fingers, he sketched me a quick salute, then turned on his heel and marched away, only for the three of them to appear at my classroom.
“Little bird—” Kael growled. The man had more overbearing nonsense to spout. I wasn’t having any of that.
“Lady Fern to you,” I said primly. “Milady, as we were not formally introduced. I have art class and?—”
“So do I.” Dain’s mood hadn’t improved at all, but he brushed past the lot of us, walking in through the door. “Go. I’ll ensure Fern is safe.”
My mouth feel open because the white-haired man was able to achieve something I failed at. The other two backed off with a nod.
“We’ll see you at lunch then.” Lorien bowed slightly. “Farewell, milady.”
My muscles were locked down tight, my whole body bristling, ready to fight, but he and Kael turned with a nod, walking away. That left me to go to class. Dain was already inside the room, moving around the circle of easels. I was spared a sidelong glance, but the moment when our eyes met, he was frowning again, right before he took a seat a place on the opposite side to me.
Which left me free to look around the room.
My smile came unbidden. The cluttered room was full of paper, canvasses, and plaster sculptures, the air perfumed by the scent of dust and turpentine. The colours of the sketches, the watercolour pinned to the wall…
I was in heaven.
“Sit, sit…” An older man with a very distinctive waxed moustache stepped into the room, a long scarf looped around his neck and trailing over his shoulder. “I am your tutor, Lucien, and today?—”
“You’re taking art too?” Cora slid into the seat beside me, a leather satchel of brushes and pencils set down on the small table between us. I nodded, her impish smile a match for my own. “I should’ve asked you last night. We could’ve walked over to the studio together.”
Lucien grabbed a couple of plaster casts and began setting them up on the podium in the centre of the room.
“That’s very kind,” I said, but it was Dain’s eyes I stared into across the floor, not Cora’s. “I managed to find a escort to help me find the class.”
“Now.” Lucien clapped his hands together. “Let’s start off with a few quick sketches to find out what we’re working with. Pencils and charcoal can be found at your easels.” I looked down and saw a variety of drawing implements had been placed in a small drawer under the bottom of the easel. I pulled out a soft pencil, thumbing the lead. “Gestural sketches.” Lucien waved his hands through the air theatrically. “We don’t have time for anything detailed. Show me what you can do.”
My pencil rose, and I started feathering it across the page.
Chapter 21
