“My name is Astra.” I was really getting tiredof correcting that.
“Not to me.”
“Then I guess we’re not talking.”
Unfortunately, he continued speaking.
“You are not what I expected.”
“That seems to be upsetting you very deeply.”
His eyes narrowed.
Good. I had annoyed him.
“My name is Caspian Ashford. I am the Ascendant first-year prefect.”
“Congratulations.”
“I have been assigned to your alignment year.”
“My what?”
“The first-years who will train with you, read with you, and witness what becomes of you.”
“That sounds cozy.”
“It is not meant to be.”
“And what becomes of me?”
“That depends on whether Zenith Hall can correct you.”
“Correct me?”
“If it’s possible.”
“Good luck to everyone involved, then.”
For half a second, something in his face looked less certain.
Then it was gone.
The two boys beside him stayed there, glaring at me, until Caspian Ashford turned and strode down the corridor.
The cold of marble in my mouth went with him, thankfully, and so did the others students.
It took me a minute to start walking again after that.
The corridor Caspian was not the way I was going. Naturally, that made it the only direction my eyes wanted to keep checking. Like some part of me wanted him to come back.
Ridiculous.
He was exactly the kind of boy I was better off avoiding.
I finally dragged my gaze away from the empty space where he had been and followed the narrower passage until the polished academy smell gave way to friedonions.
The east kitchen was behind a curtain of old garlic hung over the doorway.
