“But I would have won, I’m sure of it. If I hadn’t fallen over, I would have won.”
Jamie barely even gave her a second glance, pulling his bomber jacket on with a dismissive flick of his hand.
It felt colder, if that was possible. The air tasted frosty, like bitter, terrible failure.
“Jamie, please.” Before she could stop herself, desperate fingers reached out for him, grabbing his jacket.
He turned back to her. Golden-flecked eyes bored into her own, and for a split second, so fast she nearly missed it, a flash of concern passed over his face.
“I failed the year.” She spoke quickly, before his concern disappeared. “We think my grades were tampered with, but we can’t bring attention to it, not with the media, and I won’t be allowed back at Rosewood unless I retake my exams. But . . .” Lottie slipped a hand into her pocket and pulled out the hand-bound pamphlet, on its cover a tranquil lily pond surrounded by wood-paneled buildings and pagodas. And above the image, curly gold script announced the name of the school, Takeshin Gakuin.
“They offer physical and creative courses over the summer. If you get a good enough grade, it adds to your exam marks for the whole year. This could fix the problem without needing to bring attention to it.” She felt the nervous sweat from her hands dampen the pages where she held the pamphlet out. She swallowed. “Ellie wants to do the kendo class, and I think it will help build up her confidence again, but we need you on board. We need you with us when we tell her parents.”
She’d read the information about the school what felt like a hundred times, the words growing in her mind like roots, pulling her across the sea.
On the outskirts of Tokyo, set within the dense bamboo forest Kiri Shinrin, named for its languid and thick fogs that appear mysteriously all year round, Takeshin Gakuin prides itself on both a beautiful setting and academic excellence. Said to be a school filled with secrets, Takeshin was founded by Kou Fujiwara in 1650 during the Sakoku period in Japan, when traveling in and out of Japan was strictly limited by the Japanese shogunate. Ahead of its time, with an interest in other cultures and traditions, the school quickly became known for producing graduates who showed outstanding strength of mind, body, and spirit. It wasn’t until the 1800s, when Japan opened up its borders to allow trade with Great Britain and the United States, that Takeshin formed its lasting and mutually beneficial relationship with the esteemed Rosewood Hall, and the renowned summer school was founded. Now students from all over the world can choose one of Takeshin’s exceptional physical or creative courses and partake in eight weeks of intense learning. We hope that those who step foot on our grounds will leave with not only desirable grades but a stronger sense of self to carry them through life with confidence and passion.
“Japan?” Jamie took the pamphlet from her, his expression as cold as the air around them. “You want to go to Rosewood’s sister school in Japan?”
“It’s not that far away from Maradova; I remember reading that the countries do a lot of business together, and it’s not just about the grade—I’m worried about Ellie too.” Lottie tried to keep her voice calm and even. “This might be the thing we all need.”
“We?” He looked up at her sharply.
“Yes, we. If you hadn’t noticed, we’re not exactly at our best right now.” The tension stretched between them like a rope pulled tight. “It would be Ellie and me, and you, and possibly Saskia and Anastacia and—”
“No.” He tried to shove the pamphlet back at her, but she clutched her hands behind her back.
“No?”
“You need to apply to retake your exams. You can’t run away from your problems, Lottie.”
“But if Leviathan had something to do with the grade, what if it happens again?”
The beautiful calligraphy that bore the school’s name trembled in Jamie’s fist as he realized Lottie was not going to budge from this decision.
“You promised that if I beat you in the race, you would never ask me for a favor again.”
Any argument turned dry in her mouth. In the freezing silence she took the pamphlet back, feeling the pain in her knees, the ache in her muscles, and the scrapes on her flesh begin to throb, proof of her failures.
“Listen, Lottie, you don’t understand the implications of this. Japan is . . .” He swallowed, looking up at the gray mist. “King Alexander and his brother, they have a history there. Japan is where Ellie’s uncle ran away to when he was exiled.”
Green eyes flashed through her mind. The portrait of the man that hung above them whenever they walked out of the palace, a dark reminder of Maravish tradition and what would become of a person if they broke it. It was a life Ellie must never follow.
She opened her mouth to speak when a shrill voice called to them. Lottie looked up to see Simien Smirnov, anxiety etched in his face. Smirnov—usually so fox-like and calculating—seemed worried about something. This couldn’t be good.
“Miss Pumpkin, Mr. Volk,” he called again down the stone steps. His breath came in gasps, as though he’d been running. “I’m afraid you’re needed in the East Screening Parlor with the king and queen.”
Lottie couldn’t help looking to Jamie in the hope he might know what was going on, but he seemed as confused as she was.
Following Simien through the palace in silence, Lottie felt her wolf pendant bounce against her with each step across the marble floor.
She was grubby with her scraped knees and ratty hair. The very idea that she was about to see Ellie’s parents made her want to curl into a ball. Part of her worried that Ellie might have already confessed about the failing grades, but as Simien led them to the screening room, the brow above his glass eye twitching with concern, it soon
