A STARRY NIGHT
Ceri
Ceri’s arrival in the dining hall wasn’t heralded by trumpets, but everyone at the long table at the head of the room stood as if it was. They were her soon-to-be professors, but they treated her as the honored guest, bowing and curtsying to her as she approached.
She had arrived on time, but there were only a few seats remaining at the table—a couple near Dean Whittaker near the center, and one at the end across from Leo.
If there was a feeling of her heart skipping a beat when she spotted him, it could surely be explained by the fact that he’d given her the fright of the century on their first encounter. It was a perfectly plausible explanation, and she would be entertaining no further thoughts.
Leo bowed to her, smirking.
No. Further. Thoughts.
She would not be thinking about where, exactly, she felt that smirk. She definitely would not be taking that seat across from him.
Ceri turned back to Dean Whittaker and addressed the table. “Thank you, but please don’t feel like you need to stand on myaccount. I plan on being here for quite some time, and I’d rather we dispense with the royal protocol.”
“But your majesty—” began Dean Whittaker.
“I’m not ‘your majesty’ yet,” said Ceri. She saw his embarrassment at the mistake; he was unaccustomed to dealing with all of these rules and formalities. In front of her father, she would have mocked him. Instead, she chose to soften the blow. “I do appreciate the courtesy. But while I’m here, I’d rather just be Ceri. If that would be alright with you, sir.”
Dean Whittaker sat upright, straightening his tie and reminding himself who he was. “Of course,” he said to Ceri. “You may be seated,” he said to the rest of the table. He gestured to Ceri to join him at one of the empty seats, and she accepted.
A servant filled her glass with a deep red wine as Dean Whittaker began to introduce her to the professors seated near them at the table. He spoke at length regarding their departments and research, and Ceri did her best to listen, trying to imagine herself studying Numbers or Loegrian or Philosophy. Her many tutors had equipped her well to at least follow the conversation, although their lessons had often come with a frankly unnecessary amount of corporal punishment. Ceri was looking forward to learning without fearing the smack of a ruler, truth be told.
The first course arrived with the clatter of a great number of silver serving dishes. Out of the corner of Ceri’s eye, she caught movement at Leo’s end of the table and then a louder crash—his chair had fallen backward.
Dean Whittaker stood to see what the commotion was about. “I say, are you alright—”
As the dean spoke, something fell from high above the table. It crashed into the exact spot where Leo had been seated earlier. A chandelier.
Several of the professors cried out. A serving dish was dropped, the echo of it rocking back and forth ringing through the room as the servants ran over.
Dean Whittaker rushed to Leo, with Ceri trailing behind.
“My Gods, you could have been killed! It must have come loose when they were installing the new upgraded ‘lectrics last month. I’ll have that builder’s neck, boy, don’t you worry.”
Dean Whittaker pulled Leo upright. He looked shaken, his spectacles crooked on his nose again, but he was unharmed.
“Thank you, sir. No harm no foul,” said Leo.
“Come, sit with us in the middle. There’s no chandelier over our heads, at least,” said Dean Whittaker.
The servants removed the busted chandelier as the people at the table took their seats once more.
Leo took the seat directly across from Ceri.
“Hello, again,” he whispered to her.
Ceri drew in a deep breath. It felt as though this school was conspiring to put them together. She was looking forward to the arrival of the other students. Maybe once the school was busy and crowded, it would be easier to avoid him.
Not that she needed to avoid him. There was nothing between them to be avoided.
Dean Whittaker began to talk about his experience with the builders and the doubts he’d had when they were working. Ceri recognized it as the sort of thing one says to save face after a humiliation. Of course he’d seen the problems coming all along. If he’d just trusted his gut and fired them at the beginning, none of this would have happened.
She wondered how much of this song and dance was on her behalf—did he worry that Ceri would leave the school if it seemed as though it was falling apart?
Leo, to his credit, seemed to take his near-death experience in stride.
