His arm dropped, and I fled.
Chapter Six
After the most embarrassing moment of my life, I began my other lessons with minimal trouble. My tutors thought me neglected, maybe a bit stupid, but that was better than crazy. I met with Zoland for the second time, and I failed to make Light in front of my face, or my chest, or anywhere.
Zoland’s response? He promised to investigate my “unusual condition.” He seemed almost gleeful at the prospect of not knowing something.
Then I received a summons. To the Dragon Quarters. Enough trainees had arrived to begin another Kyer class.
Get control of yourself, Adara, I told myself over and over as I walked to Mountain Four. I wiped my palms on my nice-but-not-too-nice black breeches. It had taken forever to dress, and that irked me. My clothes never mattered before. Of course, I never had a choice in what I wore before. But still. If I saw Shamino—
The thought of him brought up his warm smile, his strong arms wrapped around my body… Heat of every kind flooded me.
Stop it. You can’t avoid him, not if you wish to bond, so don’t embarrass him by acting like a stupid cow.
Besides, Shamino was a noble. Despite what I told people, I was not Adara of Threepines.
The reminder didn’t help my nerves. Not when I was about to meet trainees who’d grown up with magic and money and sofas.
By the time I pushed open the door to the Dragon Quarters, my hands shook with anxiety. The foyer was empty—no. A girl sat in the corner, quiet and still. Pale hair, pale skin, almost washed-out green eyes. She had to be a trainee, but the way she sat made her look much younger than sixteen.
We stared at each other. The silence flustered my insides even more. My few etiquette lessons muddled with everything else I was trying to memorize, and I didn’t know what to do. Was I supposed to be the one to start talking? Finally, I blurted, “Are you in the class? For trainees?”
“Yes,” she answered. Her voice, pale as the rest of her. “I forgot my summons, so I fear I do not know the room.”
“Fourth door on the right. I memorized it before I came.” I cringed. That sounded rude and haughty. Or perhaps I sounded perfectly normal and I was overreacting.
“Ah.” The girl stood and bobbed a curtsy despite wearing breeches. “I’m Paige.”
She didn’t say her house name. Which made sense at the Kyer, for dragons disliked houses. I tried to curtsy-bob like she had. I nearly fell over. “Um, I’m Adara. Walk with me to class?”
Paige half nodded, half bobbed again. In awkward silence we went down the hallway. I wanted to say something, anything, but I hadn’t learned how nobles started conversations. Certainly they didn’t chat about the rain and harvest.
We reached the fourth door. Closed. Paige raised her hand as if to knock, dropped it, tilted her head. A pink tinge crept across her cheekbones.
My uncertainty melted like butter. I was bound to make a mistake sooner or later. I could make one for her. I opened the door and went inside.
The classroom was, of course, stone, but a colorful weaving of Drageria took up an entire wall. Another wall had been painted black. Simple but solid wooden tables with two chairs each sat in rows. As Paige and I entered, a young man stood from his seat at the front of the room.
By all the—are all noble boys handsome? The stranger didn’t make me as giddy-stupid as Shamino had, but I was still struck. Short, raven-dark hair contrasted sharply with his light skin. He had a strong jawline, ice-blue eyes. Tall.
Paige had halted as if she’d run into a wall. A deep flush made her skin go blotchy.
“Ladies,” the young man said in a voice so smooth I did get flutters. “Jerroth of Katier, at your service.”
He gave us a deep bow. Paige continued to blotch. She shot me a panicked glance. I stepped forward, my thoughts racing the entire time. Katier. Katier. Karpak mountains… a county! Three ranks above baronet.
“Adara of Threepines,” I murmured as I performed what I hoped was a deep enough bob; I wasn’t going to try the curtsy-without-a-skirt thing Paige had pulled off earlier. Jerroth reached out, and I winced as my ugly farmer’s fingers slipped into his. Soft lips brushed my knuckles.
Jerroth released my hand, and Paige managed to squeak she was of Westwood. I hadn’t learned Westwood yet. Jerroth kissed her hand and she blushed even deeper, but he gave no sign of noticing.
Other students trickled in. All the girls had more grace than I and more self-possession than Paige. To my relief, the boys were not all deathly handsome. A few were even as tanned as I. I fumbled through each introduction regardless, my thoughts buzzing into a headache. A brunette—Anastasi?—kept giving me curious glances.
I can’t do this. My hands have calluses, the way I talk is wrong—they’ll know before class ends.
“Ahem,” came a smooth voice from the doorway.
I turned to look at the young woman, and every ounce of confidence I’d ever had crumbled to dust.
Her creamy skin made me feel as if I’d bathed in dirt. Artfully braided hair of pure gold wound upon her head, whereas my nut-brown curls hung loose and likely frizzed. Her crimson gown plunged to show off her curves.
The woman gave the room a serene smile, and every boy stood straighter.
Jerroth wove through the stunned room to give the newcomer a deep bow, offering his hand. As she slipped hers into his, he murmured, “Tressa of Blackveil, tales of your beauty do you no justice.”
“You know who I am!” the blonde exclaimed, bringing her free hand to her chest. “Alas, you have me at a disadvantage.”
“Your humble servant, Jerroth of Katier.” He gave her hand the sincerest kiss I’d ever seen. Jealousy from the rest of the room crackled in the air.
It didn’t crackle around Paige. She
