Still, he didn’t even look at me at the Debutante Ball. Not a glance, curt or lingering, and he was glued to Asta’s side.
He made his position very fucking clear.
The only hurt I felt over it was failure.
My own loss as my life vest was stolen from me.
So Oliver’s steady stare is unnecessary.
I loosen a weary breath and look out the window for the rest of the ride.
Oliver jumps out of the gondola first, his shoes sinking into the sludgy snow. He turns to help me out of the car, and as he does, I look up the path that coils towards the old academy.
It’s a path of dirty sleet marring the way.
My boots thud into the mush and, behind me, the gondola door slams shut, and it continues along the overhead wires to round back to the village.
I fix my fur-lined hood over my head and trek through the sludge.
The path is too slippery.
I watch my uneven steps, as though it’ll somehow save me from losing my footing and falling on my ass.
That would be a poetic first day back for me.
Oliver walks with me, hands in his pockets, head tucked down to protect himself from the icy winds spearing around the mountains.
It’s a brisk walk to the doors that open to the atrium—and it’s already buzzing.
Students are peppered around, dotted in the mess hall through the second set of double doors, and a few are disappearing down the narrow corridor, the direction of the Living Quarter.
But it’s the bulk of natural muscle that hooks my gaze.
Mildred’s stocky frame lurks in the atrium, and she looks even bigger with her sister beside her.
Melody seems even more of a frail stick this semester.
But there’s nothing frail about the sharp look she throws over at me.
I glower right back at her—because even after all these years of pure torture, I haven’t learned a thing about backing down.
Just can’t swallow back that burn of fight that rears up, that…pride.
That’s what it really is, isn’t it?
Pride.
The fault of all aristos.
Oliver slips a hand out from his trouser pocket, then steals mine into his grip. A statement that has me double-taking.
And I’m not the only one.
I swear Melody’s full lips part and her lashes flutter right before her face tightens into something grim.
Without tearing her gaze from us, she reaches up on her toes and whispers into her sister’s ear.
As quick as a lightning bolt flashes through the clouds, Mildred swerves around to glare at me.
