“I’m afraid all of that has to be earned.”
“How does one earn it?”
“Typically through the aforementioned frills and pomp.”
He rolls his eyes. “Great,” he grumbles.
Heads turn toward the front of the Treaty when High Sage Triche walks in and claps loudly. Silence slowly overtakes the chatter, and the High Sage smiles brightly.
“Hello, students. Forgive me for interrupting your meal, but I have an exciting announcement and I simply cannot wait. Will Angel Barerra, Desiree Thorn, and Cassius MacLeod please come join me?”
The three scholars glide across the room. Cassius leads like a figurehead carved into the bow of a warship, settling at the High Sage’s side. Claudia has only seen the two of them together once before, when they were close enough to still appear human. Fleshy, blinking. But here, distant and in softer light, against a backdrop of common folk, they look like gods plucked from paintings, as do the other two scholars following close behind.
Angel Barerra—tall, tan, damn near perfect—makes eyes at Alistair. Claudia reaches across the table and taps her friend on the arm. “Alistair, do you see that? Angel is looking at you.”
“At me?” He looks over his shoulder, as if searching for the real object of Angel’s attention. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“That’s unlikely. People only stare at me when I do something odd or unintentionally offensive.”
“That’s not what’s happening here,” she says with a laugh. “I promise. He’s staring because he likes the way you look.”
Angel flashes a smile. Claudia nudges Alistair’s shoulder and whispers, “Smile back.Now.”
Alistair obeys, and though his smile is a bit unnatural, it’s no less charming.
And then, Angelblushes.
Claudia nudges Alistair’s shoulder again. “See?!I sense romance in your future, Alistair.”
“Hm,” Alistair hums, excited and entranced. After a sip of his tea, he says, “Maybe so. I wonder if Cassius would mind.”
“Why would he?”
“Well, they were involved once. A few months ago, and only for a night. They’re nothing more than good friends now.”
Claudia swallows her tea down the wrong pipe and coughs. “Oh, I didn’t realize Cassius was—”
“I often joke that he’s a sort of sapiosexual,” he interjects. “I don’t know how he would define himself, but by my observation, he’s attracted to brains above all else. Man, woman, neither, both—it doesn’t seem to matter for him so long as they’re undeniably brilliant. And Angel, well… he’s nothing short of a genius. Just like Cas.”
Claudia tilts her head. She’s long been aware of her attraction to both men and women. She didn’t realize it could be more complicated than that.
Triche puts his arms around their shoulders—Angel and Desiree to the left, Cassius to the right. “Many of you submitted work for publication at the end of last term, and I am thrilled to announce that these three have been accepted into the next edition of top journals in their fields. Mr. Angel Barerra’s thesis, ‘On the Nature and Properties of Curves Described by the Motion of a Point,’ will be published inMathematical Findings of Modern Society. Miss Desiree Thorn’s study on a new method of healing by the application of botanical extracts will be published inMedical Marvels.”
“Dammit,” Alistair murmurs. “I’m always losing to her.”
“And Mr. Cassius MacLeod, my apprentice, without whom I’d lose my head and my spectacles”—the High Sage pauses for thelight laughter rolling through the room—“is publishing his piece ‘De Veritate Orationis: On the Truth and Beauty of Discourse’ in theLondon Rhetorical Review.”
The entire crowd erupts in cheers and applause.
High Sage Triche smiles, and his tired eyes shine. “Seeing you all blossom and thrive is my life’s purpose. I’m honored and humbled to be your High Sage.” He lifts the hands of the debut authors and says, “Three cheers for your peers!”
The crowd cheers again. Cassius makes eye contact with Claudia and winks.
Snarky bastard.
Snarkypublishedbastard.
