Calisto smiled a catlike, sinister smile. “How quaint, Duke Silverthorne’s poor orphaned ward,” she said scathingly. “Damien, you do have a penchant for picking up strays. This one is the scruffiest yet.” She eyed me up and down.
I looked down at my hands. I knew I was not a blonde bombshell like her, but I wasn’t bad looking. With my long black hair and big green eyes I thought I was quite striking, but I soon remembered I now had short, mousy-brown hair and eyes the color of mud. Still, my heart-shaped face, small nose, and full lips were the same.
I couldn’t think of a retort to Calisto’s mean comment, so I said nothing. I think she expected a fight, and she now looked disappointed that her jabs hadn’t worked. She reminded me a bit of my Aunt Ariana, and I knew how to deal with her kind.
“My sister,” Damien added as an afterthought, as if it explained her behavior toward me. “She is in her second year here at the academy.”
My eyebrows drew together as I studied them. What did they want with me? Did they really want to be friends, or was this something else? Calisto and Zorek had resumed their banter and seemed to have forgotten I was there.
“So,” said Damien, giving me a thin smile, “it seems that we are in the same warrior skills class.”
“Oh!” I wasn’t very good at conversation, especially with boys. I thought I had been getting better at it; obviously, I had deceived myself. I was still a complete idiot when it came to these things. The strange thing was that I didn’t even like Damien, I just wanted so much to be accepted that I didn’t want to be rude.
He continued to chatter on about classes and some gossip about one of the professors. Mostly I had no clue who or what he was talking about. In a few minutes, they all got up to leave.
“Talk to you later at warrior skills,” said Damien in a know-it-all manner, as if he were merely stating a fact instead of asking me.
I nodded and waved goodbye. Calisto and Zorek didn’t even look back. I dropped my hand, embarrassed. What was wrong with me? I felt like kicking myself as I finished playing with the remnants of food on my tray.
Finally, Vivienne ran over, huffing and puffing. “Sorry, sorry,” she said as soon as she saw my face. “I was in the alchemy house when one of the students blew up the whole classroom. We had to go and help the rest of the class and take them to the healers.”
One of the girls from my dorm, the one who ignored me at the breakfast table, sauntered over. Her hair was flaming red and tied in a frizzy ponytail, but it was her massive nose that dominated her gaunt face.
“So, looks like Damien has taken a liking to you,” she said, a silly smile spreading across her face.
“He wanted to be friends, I guess,” I said, glancing at Vivienne who finally sat down next to me. She didn’t say anything but started eating her food.
“And you said yes, of course,” the girl squealed. “How lucky you are to get asked out by Damien Blackwater in your first week here.”
“Oh, is that his full name?” I scrunched up my nose. “Suits him. And no, I did not agree to go out with him. I just sat with him for lunch.”
“Same thing,” she said, sitting down next to me. “Will you be seeing him again?”
I shrugged. “In class, I guess.”
Vivienne raised her eyebrows and gave me a pointed look. “I would stay away from Damien if I were you.”
“Don’t listen to Vivienne, her family has never liked the Blackwaters. Damien doesn’t talk to just anybody. He’s the most popular boy in the school.” The girl gave me her hand. “I’m Celia, by the way. Celia Greendew. My father is a viscount, in case you were wondering.”
I wasn’t, but I didn’t say that aloud. What was wrong with these people? Did they just become friends with me because of who I knew? And was it really necessary for me to know that her father was a viscount?
“But Vivienne is right about some things,” Celia went on, digging into a huge slice of apple pie. “Damien is a bit of a snob and very arrogant. Just because his father is a duke and his uncle is the archmage, he knows he can get away with anything.”
Shock raced through me and a kernel of dread pooled in the pit of my stomach. I tried to compose myself. “His uncle is Archmage Lucian?”
Celia frowned. “Is there any other?”
I didn’t know what to say. I glanced at Vivienne, who furrowed her brow in confusion. I felt like kicking myself. I needed to be more careful.
“Well, you should know that he and the others hate all the Silverthornes,” said Celia.
“Others?” I asked, looking over at Vivienne.
“Other Blackwaters. His elder brother, Zorek, and his sister, Calisto, are not to be trifled with,” said Vivienne. “They are sort of royalty in the school. Cousins to the prince.”
My eyes widened. “They are?”
“You don’t know?” said Celia sharply. “You are the Silverthorne ward; you should know this.”
I wasn’t sure what to say. I had to be more careful with what I revealed about myself. I could tell that even Vivienne was looking at me strangely, and I was sure she suspected something was wrong with my story.
“Celia,” said Vivienne to my surprise. “She has recently arrived from Andrysia, so it is possible that they don’t know much about the Blackwaters in the northern kingdoms.”
Celia shot dark eyes toward me. “Maybe, but soon all of Avalonia will know about them.” She moved closer and lowered her
