“My father sent me to a bunch of crazies,” the blond boy from before whispered to his seatmate. He slunk lower in his chair.
Sylvia wrote Council of Elders across from Dragonmaster and Seneschal. “The dragons elect each Dragonmaster as they elect the Seneschal. Among themselves, dragons have no king. In fact, they select us a Dragonmaster only because they recognize the human need for authority. And some of you will be pleased to learn that they do consider Dragonridge’s opinion before appointing the Dragonmaster.”
“There’s no order without rank,” a girl muttered. Loudly.
“Trainees who cannot accept this will never find a dragon willing to bond.” Sylvia clapped her hands. “Time for our first exercise. Class, line up according to rank.”
Everyone sorted themselves. There were no discussions, no disagreements. Tressa moved to one end of the room and Jerroth took the place beside her without hesitation. Paige, staring at the floor, went to the opposite end of the line.
I stood separate, like an idiot. Eyes lingered on me. Baronets were low, so… the end? I slid between Paige and the wall.
Paige pulled me to her other side.
“But I’m a baronet,” I whispered in the silent room. Someone snickered. Tressa’s bracelet fell to the floor. Quiet laughter danced across her face as she scooped it up.
Paige turned blotchy. She murmured, so quietly I could barely hear, “Please. Father is a fool, but I beg you do not deepen my humiliation.”
“I’m sorry, I—”
Sylvia spoke before I could tell Paige that I truly didn’t understand. “Jerroth, Paige, you are now seatmates. Take the table at the front of the class. Tressa, Adara.”
I shot Paige a look of apology, but she didn’t see it. Tressa’s face glowed with amusement as I took my seat.
“You poor thing,” she murmured. She sounded sincere despite her amusement. “How remote you’ve been in the mountains. Don’t fret about Paige. She seems a meek mouse, but she has a venomous bite. And don’t worry about yourself. The others have already forgotten your blunder. See?”
The other trainees were fixated on Sylvia trying to argue the now-irate blond boy into sitting beside a flushing girl.
“Impossible, if you ask me, with their families’ feud.” Tressa didn’t go into details, but she did study my face. I tried not to squirm. The almost-haughty arch of her brow softened. “Oh, Threepines, you really don’t know anything, do you?”
I looked away.
Tressa’s hand, soft as calfskin, covered mine as she leaned in to whisper. “Tell you what. I know everyone and everything. I will take care of your education, for clearly it was neglected. Stay by me, and you will succeed.”
I blinked. Could it be true? Tressa was offering to be my… friend? Tutor? What was she proposing? “Why help me?”
“Why not?” Tressa leaned back with a shrug. “Mother says those in positions of power must help those less fortunate. Besides, I’ve taken an interest in you, Threepines—no. That will not do for a friend. Adara.”
Warmth spread from her hand up my arm. Friend. My last friend had stood in line with the other villagers, urging me to leave before I set something else on fire and brought the nobles’ wrath on them all. If Tressa ever found out the truth… Honestly, I didn’t know what she could do. That scared me even more.
But this is my chance. I can learn more from Tressa than from reading books. First One, I was terrified to hope for it, but maybe we’d end up as true friends.
“Thank you,” I whispered. Tressa squeezed my hand, and for the first time that day, my anxiety faded.
By now, the rest of the class had settled in their seats. The blond boy had stormed out, likely never to return.
Sylvia resumed class, teaching about the Kyer’s egalitarian society. It took me half a Sphere to puzzle out the meaning of egalitarian, but my ignorance didn’t dim my hope. I had a friend.
After class, only Paige left immediately. The others stayed, so I did as well. I kept close to Tressa. Everyone kept close to Tressa.
“Goodness, I thought her condescending drone would never end,” Tressa said.
Jerroth’s mouth twitched. Downward. “You shouldn’t speak of a teacher so.”
Tressa drew a fan from her pocket and snapped it open. “On the contrary, in this ‘egalitarian’ utopia, I can speak of her however I please.”
Light laughter from most of the others. I smiled, though I agreed with Jerroth.
The hint of Jerroth’s frown became reality. The fan slid closed and Tressa put her hand on his arm. “While the Kyer’s ways are alluring, politics do not change because of a handful of dragons. Is it any wonder that the Kyer receives little respect?”
“It’s prestigious enough,” Jerroth said.
“Not at Dragonsridge.” Tressa tapped him with the fan. “And it controls the treasury.”
Jerroth inclined his head.
The conversation changed, and I tried to follow as best as I could. Then someone brushed my shoulder. “Threepines—isn’t that a holding in the Suldra mountains?”
My stomach clenched. I’d really hoped I could listen in silence and not have a conversation of my own. “You’re Anastasi of…”
The brunette smiled. “Riversbend.”
“I’m sorry. I have a bad memory.” A nonexistent memory.
Her smile widened. She was pretty, until that smile. Her teeth seemed to glint with a grin that huge. “Nothing to forgive! I was curious, however, how a mountain girl becomes so dark.”
I clasped my hands behind my back. “Yes. Well. I love horses.”
Thank you, Orrik.
“Oh, I had hoped that was the case! Sometime we should go riding together in the valley.”
I took a step backward, bumping into one of the tables. I’d seen many a donkey’s backside, but I’d never ridden one.
Before I could respond, Tressa touched Anastasi’s arm. “Forgive me, Riversbend, but I need a word with Adara before she hurries to her next lesson.”
Anastasi’s glinting smile dimmed as she bobbed and backed away. Tressa
