Cruel Magic (Royals of Villain Academy #1)(11)

“Nothing for you to worry about. All you need to do is be present, and the assessors will take care of the rest. From what I recall, it feels like a brief, mild tingling.”

If he was telling the truth, I could probably handle that much.

We stepped out through a side door into the cool spring air. The sun had dropped below the trees, and the shadows sprawled long across the ground. A paved pathway swerved through the neatly trimmed grass to another medieval-ish stone building that rose five stories to a gable roof.

Another path rambled across the way to a narrower cylindrical structure nearly twice as tall that easily earned the label Tower. Banefield pointed between Ashgrave Hall and Nightwood Tower toward a squat building topped by a dome farther across the green.

“Assessments take place in the main gymnasium,” he said. “I’ll come by your dorm to escort you there at nine o’clock tomorrow. We all understand it’ll take you some time to get your bearings.”

And yet they seemed perfectly happy to throw me into this life with hardly an acknowledgement of the one they’d ripped me out of. Did fearmancers have so little conscience that it didn’t occur to them that I might still be bothered by my parents’ deaths even now that I knew Mom and Dad had supposedly kidnapped me? Was that fact supposed to erase an entire childhood of love?

The first two floors of Ashgrave Hall held the library. A few students were ambling between the shelves, glancing our way and then going back to their business. We hiked up three more flights to the top floor. No elevators to speak of, apparently. I was going to have killer legs if I stayed here very long.

“It’s important to note,” Banefield said as we climbed, “that we welcome a number of Nary students to the university to assist with certain aspects of our programming. They wear a gold pin shaped like a leaf that they believe simply marks their scholarship status. You must be careful to avoid discussing any magical subjects while they’re within hearing and to ensure they don’t pick up on any spells you cast on or around them. Discipline is rather strict in that regard.”

I blinked at him. “You let Naries into your university of magical studies?”

He shrugged. “We prepare you for every aspect of the world you’ll be venturing into. None of us can exist without some dealings with the Nary population.”

The fifth floor landing offered four doors. Banefield swiped a keycard over a panel for the one marked C1, and the lock clicked over. He handed the card to me and pushed the door open.

The square room on the other side was four times the size of my living room back home, with a similar aesthetic to the headmistress’s office, just fewer books and more seating. A thick rug covered most of the floor under the clusters of sofas, armchairs, and coffee tables. A ten-seater mahogany dining table stood between the living area and a kitchen with two stainless steel fridges along the far wall. Five wooden doors stood along the walls on either side of me, and another door next to the kitchen must have led to the bathroom.

A couple of girls around my age were sitting at one end of the table finishing off their steak dinners. The rich smell of sirloin laced the air. A few others were sprawled on the sofas. All of them had been looking toward the open bedroom door in the far left corner when we came in. Their gazes jerked to me and then back to the bedroom.

Another girl was poised just outside that door with her hands planted on her curvaceous hips. Perfectly neat waves of auburn hair spilled down to the middle of her back.

“I didn’t agree to this,” she was saying in an acidic voice.

“You can take it up with the headmistress then,” a woman said from inside the room. She came out carrying a box, a stiletto heel protruding from inside. “Or them, I suppose,” she added, lifting her chin toward Banefield and me. She walked along the line of doors to deposit the box in the bedroom closest to us.

The girl spun around. The beauty of her angelic face, pale and smooth as porcelain, was ruined by the narrowing of her eyes and the disgusted curl of her lip.

“That was my room, Professor Banefield,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest as she strode over. “It’s been mine since I moved to senior last year. I don’t see why I should have to give it to her.” The disgusted curl deepened as she looked me over. I bristled automatically.

“Victory,” Banefield said in an even voice, “this is Per— Ah, this is Rory Bloodstone. As a scion, she’s owed the best room we can provide for her. If she’d been with us from the start, you wouldn’t have gotten to enjoy the room for as long as you did.” He turned to me. “This is Victory Blighthaven, one of our most talented students.”

His compliment bounced right off Victory. From the glare she was shooting me, she wished the fearmancers hadn’t found me at all.

That makes two of us, I wanted to tell her, but I couldn’t figure out how to express my profound desire to be anywhere but here in a way that didn’t offend her and every other mage around me even more.

The fact was, though, that I didn’t really care about the room. If I had my way, I wouldn’t be staying in it very long anyway. If having it would keep this witch out of my way, let her have it.

“I don’t need a special room,” I said to Banefield. “It’s fine. I’ll take whichever one was empty.”

Victory brightened for the instant before Banefield shook his head. “We have standards for a reason. You’ve been denied your heritage too long, Rory. We aren’t going to hold you back from it even here. I believe Victory’s things have already been moved over?”