Caspian looked at Cosima, jaw tight.
Kieran turned away from the window, and I saw the apology in his eyes, but all it did was make me feel worse.
I turned before my feelings could turn into tears or something even more embarrassing, walked back down the short staircase, through the three turns of corridor, and past the hall that would have taken me to my room.
At twenty past eight, I reached the east kitchen.
I hadn’t planned to go there.
I went in anyway.
Rev was sitting on the counter reading a letter. An apple sat cut open beside her elbow.
“You went to the small lens,” she said without lowering the letter.
“I went.”
“And?”
“Cosima Verraine refused to let me in.”
Rev set the letter down.
“Those sessions are boring anyway,” she said. “Everyone pretends to be enlightened by water and then says whatever they think the seniors expect them to say.”
“Kieran was there.”
“Kieran was there because he’s nosy.”
“He looked sorry when Cosima told me to leave.”
“He probably was.”
Rev offered me an apple slice. I waved her off. My stomach was still in knots.
“Cosima looked perfectly happy to do it.”
“She looks perfectly happy doing most things. It’s part of the job.”
“What job?”
“The one she got handed when the Council decided she was useful.”
Rev ate the slice herself.
“Cosima Verraine is the Council’s eyes and ears,” she said.
“That sounds tedious.”
“It is. First-years suck up to her because they think she’ll write better reports about them. Upperclassmen avoid her because they think she’s dangerous. Faculty use her when they don’t want their own hands on something.”
“And Caspian?”
Rev’s mouth twisted.
“Caspian is complicated.”
“I’ve noticed.”
