I cannot allow this bout of homesickness to blind me to that fact.
I push to my feet but freeze when I look down at myself. My pants are torn and muddied and there appears to be a little bit of blood on it. I swallow hard with a grimace. This was my best outfit, I wore it in the hopes of making a good impression at my new home, not thinking that I would wind up rescuing a damsel in distress and flee through the woods and battle evil vines.
A knock sounds on my door, I whip my head around just as it opens and Istaria strides through. I don’t know which is stranger, the fact that she is carrying a heaping pile of fabrics or that her hair and dress are still being whipped around her like she is caught in the middle of a storm that only she can feel.
“Istaria,” I say, my voice coming out strained with surprise. “What are you doing here? Are you still cursed?”
“I’m here because I owe you a favor, believe me, I’m not just paying some social call. And, yes, I’m cursed still because my lordly betrothed has not figured out what is wrong with me yet.”
I reach up, gesturing around my head, lifting up a strand of hair. “Is that annoying?”
“Exceedingly, much like having to spend time with you. So, let’s make this quick so that I may be able to leave this whole affair behind me.” She steps forward, thrusting the fabric in her hands out until it is colliding with my chest. I scramble to catch it as she drops it.
“What’s all this?”
Istaria exhales as she narrows her eyes at me. She gestures to the pile now in my arms. “This is my repayment for you saving my life. Now I owe you nothing.”
I lift the top item off, my mouth dropping open when I realize that it is a blue shirt made of the finest, most shimmery material I’ve ever seen. I turn wide-eyes to Istaria. “Did the boys get gifts too?”
“They asked for favors from me.” Istaria’s mouth purses. “Marvin asked for a kiss.”
“And Byron?”
“He wanted an audience with Menavillion?” She lifts a single shoulder as if she couldn’t care less despite the fact that her words send my knees trembling. “Byron mentioned that you might want some new clothes. Something about you not having many outfits and ruined what you had while rescuing me… or something equally plebian.” She gestures to the pile. “Many of these were my old clothes that had been sent ahead of me, but I managed to find some wild fae clothing as well for you.”
“Wild fae? You shouldn’t have,” I mutter dryly.
The smile that she gives me is almost cruel. “Wouldn’t want you being homesick, after all.”
“I’m not—” I begin, but Istaria turns away and strides off not bothering to argue her case. I snap my mouth shut, deciding that the fact that this high lady seems to think that I’m a wild fae is the least of my problems.
Because in return for saving Istaria, Byron got a private audience with Menavillion.
And all I got is an armful of clothes.
Chapter Thirteen
AsIstepoutof my room something flits in my face. I pull back, opening my eyes just in time to see a pixie whiz down the hall. About the size of a dragonfly and with skin and hair of gold, pixies tend to stick around fae, drawn in by their magic.
Which means that I didn’t see any pixies in human populated Woodsbury Grove. I shake my head, wondering how many collisions I’ll have with pixies now that I’m here in Skyshire. I step forward, but something rustles under my foot. I glance down to see a bit of parchment sticking out from underneath the edge of my boot. I bend over, picking it up, squinting at the blank surface. Just as I’m about to crumple it up I notice a dark line. Slowly as if someone is writing on the paper while I’m holding it, letters appear.
Welcome to the Academy of the Gilded Knight, Willow Brightbringer…
I nearly drop the note, wondering how it knows my name, but then I realize that the note likely is enchanted to address whoever is holding it. After all, this note is literally writing itself and I’m concerned about it knowing who I am?
This isn’t Commonweald anymore, I’m in the land of the fae, a place of magic. One that I don’t necessarily belong in yet… but perhaps I will someday.
The note goes on to highlight the times and locations of the requisite classes. Battle training, strategies, histories, and of course fae etiquette. Everything that will make a person desirable to be chosen as a champion and everything a knight needs to make it through the world.
It seems as if the main events, however, will be a series of feasts with each of the fae lords who are here in the hopes of gaining a knight. These dinners are important because it will help the high fae discover who we are and what we may have to offer.
Students are encouraged to attend as many feasts as they would like, but my eyes are only on the time of Menavillion’s feast which appears to be in about a week.
It also appears that there will be several mock battles held throughout the semester so that we knights to be may be able to show off our prowess.
There appears that there will be many mock battles and feasts throughout the year, but the first two are important because they will create our first impression. Not to mention that some high fae probably don’t want to stay here and watch knights be trained all year.
The most promising will be snatched up early. I know that it’s Byron’s intention to be one of the early chosen, and while I wouldn’t mind spending more time at this academy, learning what I can, if I want to beat him then I have to be better than him and to be chosen before him.
