I nodded, grasping for the best way to explain how and why I’d broken the stained glass, and when my silence only echoed throughout the room, Desmond broke it.
“Amber was assaulted by a fellow student, and Idemandhis immediate expulsion.” He spoke firmly, without raising his voice, but I sucked in a deep breath, as shocked as if he’d shouted.
He’d reframed the issue so that it wasn’t about me at all. It was about Pryce and whathe’ddone.
The Bluehelm turned to him. “As you know, the student in question has given a conflicting account of the event, and I’m afraid it doesn’t cast Ms. Fallbrook in an entirely flattering light.”
They’d already met with Pryce?
Desmond’s coppery-brown eyes flashed with a quiet fury. “That’s—”
“And as youalsoknow, his parents are rather prominent alumni,” the Bluehelm continued. “It seems to me that what would be in everyone’s best interest is if we all proceed with an eye toward a cooperative outcome. A compromise.”
“Compromise?” I said, despite my reluctance to draw attention back to myself. “Why? Who are his parents?” If they were alumni but not staff members, then they’d failed one of the Mastery-year trials. In all likelihood, they were accredited provincial alchemists like my mother had been—perhaps large donors to the school. Yet I found it difficult to believe that my mother, had she lived, would have had enough clout to keep me from being expelled if I’d assaulted a classmate.
Professor Edmiston cleared her throat and leaned toward me, tucking a silver ringlet behind one ear. “They both practice at court,” she whispered, even though everyone could hear her. “One of the alumni in question is personal alchemist to the Crown.”
No.
Thatwas why Desmond had recognized Pryce’s name. I’d managed to make an enemy out of the son of the most prominent alchemist in the kingdom, other than the Bluehelm.
“It seems clear to me that two things are true at once,” the Bluehelm said. “This other student behaved abominably, in a manner unbefitting of the Alchemary. And Amber Fallbrook”—her gaze fell heavily upon me—“destroyed virtually irreplaceable, historically significant Alchemary property.”
“That was an accident,” I insisted, bolstered by the fact that she clearly understood the circumstances. “I was defending myself.” I stood straighter, small but fierce flames licking the base of my spine. “And if I hadn’t, you’d have an entirely different issue to deal with today.”
“We cannot address what didnothappen,” she said. “Regarding whatdidhappen, an offer has been made. The other student’s family is willing to pay for the destruction of property, if you can see fit to move past their son’s poor behavior. With the understanding, of course, that such behavior will not be repeated.”
I took a second to process that offer. I could stay at the Alchemary, and I would incur no debt for the damage.
“All I have to do is…forgive him?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes,” the Bluehelm said. “Though they are not requesting that you directly address him.” She exhaled slowly. “I want to make it clear that they consider this a very generous offer, and if you were to decline, and I were forced to expel their son, I suspect they would put those same resources toward lobbying the Crown for your removal as well.”
“So, we both stay, or neither of us does?”
The Bluehelm’s brows arched at me. “You are a very bright young woman.”
“Absolutely not,” Desmond practically growled. He stood, and his chair squealed against the stone floor. “The boy is a brute, and he has no place here. Ms. Fallbrook cannot be expected to share classrooms and laboratory space with someone who is an objective threat to her person, and—”
“It is my understanding that she won’t be sharing space with him,” the Bluehelm interrupted with a glance at Cressa. “Have her supplies not already been moved to Desmond Gregory’s private laboratory?”
“That is happening as we speak,” Cressa said, without even glancing at her notes.
“An arrangement made without permission from or even notice to the Seminary faculty,” the Bluehelm noted.
Desmond scowled. “Given the advanced nature of her work, the ambitious nature of her research, and the specific needs of her current…medical condition, it only makes sense that—”
“I agree,” the Bluehelm interrupted, one hand raised for silence. “And since that arrangement was officially approved last year, I will let its extension stand. And that eliminates most of the concern with this other student, does it not?”
“It does not,” Desmond insisted. “His character is not of a suitable caliber. He dishonors the Alchemary with his very presence. I want him expelled.”
“That isn’t your decision,” I snapped, standing to confront him from across the table. He seemed truly outraged by the very idea of Pryce Wishart continuing his studies on campus, but…that wasn’t the entire reason for his objection. Something familiar and infuriating lurked behind his coppery gaze—a coldly devious but effective tactic.
Desmond had realized that if he got Pryce expelled, he would no longer be dependent upon the Bluehelm to have me removed from campus. That decision would come from far above her head.
It would come from the Crown.
I glared at him, crossing my own arms over my chest to mirror his pose. “That choice is mine, as I understand it?”
