In the carriage back to the school, Basque’s mind went over and over his deal with Krill, looking for some sort of loophole or something that he was missing that would lead to people or his students being harmed.

  Even though Billiam had said that Krill’s plan was non-violent and sound, once Loushee graduated, the school’s only mage would be Daymein, and if Basque ‘neutered’ him, the school would have no (known) mages.

  Blame for Basque’s action would fall on Yasher rather than Basque or Billiam, despite the fact that they would be the ones to carry it out. According to Billiam, Eder had been busy getting immunity for Basque, which surprised and secretly pleased Basque.

  Through his carriage window, Dyntril’s facade appeared in the skyline. Surrounded by the fields and long drive, the academy stood alone in his view. It would be, as it was on his first visit, impressive if the horrors within were still unknown to him.

  Sighing, Basque continued contemplating his newest pact with a Yani. Billiam, as the Royal Mage, was beyond reproach, but even if someone wanted to blame him, he could use Basque’s commands as an excuse. That would leave Yasher as the one responsible for ‘lack of institutional control’. It would become his fault due to his failure to mediate between Daymein and Basque.

  With Krill now being a duke, the arches could remove Yasher and have Krill take over the headmaster duties, as the headmaster was required to be a duke. The only question was if Yasher would retaliate.

  Still, it seemed too easy, too neat. They both got what they wanted, and only at the expense of Yasher. Basque didn’t have real ill-will towards the man as a person. He slept during the morning meetings as often as he listened. The man seemed to be more of a living rubber stamp than someone who actively cared about the school. For that, Basque was fine with Krill’s plan.

  As the carriage pulled to a stop in the large brick courtyard in front of the academy’s main gate, Basque got out and watched the local revelers come and go. The following day, those smiling faces would be rooting for the death of children. Basque’s mood soured.

  Keeping his head down and not looking at any of the festival-goers, Basque walked to the Grand Entrance Hall of the school that Krill seemed to love so much. That was one thing Basque could say about Krill: while his methods were vile and flat-out wrong, the man cared. Basque had seen it before Reianna’s trial with that noble. Krill was self-inflated and wanted to make the best hunters.

  Yesenia came to him when he walked through the entrance to the school and fell in step with him. “Welcome back, Master Gerenet.”

  “Thank you, Yesenia.”

  “Emilisa’s mother and father are waiting for you in one of the guest lounges.”

  “Oh. Please lead the way.”

  Yesenia bowed her head, and Basque followed her to one of the rooms on the first floor of the Grand Entrance Hall. She knocked twice, opened the door, and headed into the room.

  “The Ambassador of Hianbru and teacher of First-Year Class E, Basque Gerenet, has arrived.” She stepped forward and out of Basque’s way.

  When he entered the room, the couple dressed in dull brown clothes stood on either side of the sofa, but came together as Basque walked in. The man held a dark brown hat in his hands and spun it around. The woman reached out and placed her hand on his arm, and once he stopped spinning the hat, she withdrew it.

  Emilisa inherited her plum hair from her mother, and while it didn’t stand out against her simple, beige dress, Emilisa’s father’s hot pink hair looked juxtaposed to the drab colors of his shirt and overalls. Despite the man’s large, muscled frame, his face was soft and gentle. Emilisa had gotten his attractive looks and not her mother’s sharp features.

  “Er-um, Mister…err…Master? Garment, sir, ma’am?” Emilisa’s father stuttered.

  Once more, Emilisa’s mother put her hand on his arm. This time, she left it there. “Master Gerenet. Thank ye kindly fer meetin’us. Please fergive this oaf. He’s got moar muscles than he do brains.”

  “It is a pleasure to meet you both.” Basque placed his hand on his stomach and bowed at his waist. “Thank you for putting your daughter in my care.”

  “Oh!” Emilisa’s mother said and covered her mouth.

  “I’m sorry, did I startle you?”

  She blushed. “Oh, no. I ain’t never been bowed to by a nobble befer.”

  “I am not a noble, ma’am.”

  The hand on her husband’s arm raised, and she slapped his upper arm. “Ma’am! Did’ju hear that, Dealin?! I get called ma’am! Like I’m a proper nobble or somefin!”

  “I am only giving you the respect you deserve, ma’am.”

  The woman fanned herself. “I’m a thinkin’ I might jest pass out!”

  “Ma’am, sir, please sit,” Basque said and gestured at the sofa behind them.

  Emilisa’s mother looked behind her at the sofa, then turned back to Basque. “Oh, no! I couldn’t dirty somefin as nice as that with my dirty old self.”

  Dealin nodded his agreement.

  “It’s fine. You are honored guests, please sit. Yesenia, tea, if you would?”

  Carefully, as if it would break under her, Emilisa’s mother sat in a hover-like state. Emilisa’s father just looked at the couch.

  “Please, don’t worry. Sit. Relax.”

  “Do it be really okay?” Dealin asked.

  Yesenia came over with a tray of tea. She set cups down for Emilisa’s parents, then filled the cups. The couple stared wide-eyed at it all, and continued to stare at Yesenia as she repeated the process for Basque, then returned to the back of the room.

  “It’s fine,” Basque assured them again, picked up his tea, and took a sip.

  At last, Dealin sat, and Emilisa’s mother let her weight settle on the sofa so that she could take her tea. Like Basque, she took a sip, then downed it.

  “Trudea! This couch be the best I’ve done sat on!”

  “Tain’t nufin! Try the tea!”

  He took a sip, then, like his wife, chugged the remaining. He finished with a satisfied, “Ahh!” and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

  Yesenia came forward again and refilled their cups. Trudea downed it instantly, and Yesenia refilled it for a third time.

  “Ye know, missy, you kin just leave the pot. I’ll fill my own.”

  After receiving an approving nod from Basque, Yesenia did just that.

  Now that Trudea and Dealin were somewhat settled, Basque clasped his hands together and began speaking.

  “Emilisa is a brilliant student. She is inquisitive, engaging, and a quick learner.”

  Trudea began to cry. Dealin reached over, clasped her around the shoulder, and pulled her to him.

  “I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?”

  “Nah, ye didn’t. Jest, Emi is the only kid we can have. Ye shoulda seen her when the lord chose to send Emi to Dyntril.”

  “Jest cause he ain’t got kids!” Trudea said and slapped the couch. “Makin’ us send our precious one off!”

  There was a knock at the door, and an orange-haired maid that Basque didn’t recognize came in. “Miss Emilisa is here.”

  The plum-haired girl followed the maid in, and her mouth and eyes went wide. “Mom! Dad!” she said and ran over to her parents. The three of them hugged.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  After they broke apart, Dealin held his plum-haired daughter by the arms. “You done grown!”

  “I hope so! We’ve not seen each other in a year! Why didn’t you come to the last tournament?”

  “Oh, Yani, Dealin! Jest listen to her talk! She done sound nobble already.” Trudea sniffled and wiped her eyes.

  “Oh, Mom! I sent you a letter. Gerenet-Shr is my teacher. You don’t need to worry.”

  “Ye know I can’t read.”

  “But the deliveryman should have read it to you.”

  Her parents looked at each other and shook their heads.

  “Yani-stealing Yani-head!”

  “Emilisa!” Trudea said. “Heavens! Ye may sound pretty, but yer words is still dirty.”

  “Sorry, Mom.”

  Before Emilisa and her parents got deeper into their conversation, Basque stood and said, “Mr. and Mrs. Ward, as I said before, Emilisa is an outstanding student. When she graduates, she will be a top hunter for sure.”

  Emilisa’s face went bright red, and she stared at the floor. Her father sat up straighter, and a smile bloomed on his face, while her mother looked at Basque with watery eyes.

  “Thank ye, Master Gerenet.”

  “The pleasure is mine. I hope you enjoy the festival tonight. If you’ll excuse me, I have some other parents that I must greet. Please feel free to use this room as long as you like.”

  Once more, her parents said their thanks, and Basque left them with Yesenia following behind him. When he stepped out into the hall, Kyre was there with his father.

  “Oh! Kyre, I was just about to go find you.”

  “I appreciate it, Gerenet-Shr, but my father can only speak street, so…”

  Basque nodded. He held out his hand towards Kyre’s dad. “You have an excellent son, Mr. Meyers.”

  Kyre’s father looked at Basque’s hand, then looked at his son.

  “Pump, no bump.”

  Mr. Meyers said, “Ah!” then shook his head. He held up his fists in front of him.

  It was Basque’s turn to look at Kyre.

  “We don’t shake where I’m from. We bump fists.”

  Basque held his hands up like Kyre’s father had, and the other man pressed his hands to Basque’s.

  “Block chip not splintering?”

  Again, Basque looked at Kyre.

  “He asked if I was causing too much trouble.”

  Basque shook his head. “No! Not at all. For much of the year, Kyre was a pod leader. All of the other students look up to him and respect him. He’ll make an excellent hunter and group leader one day.”

  “Sanded and painted. Half-trip Commander Kyre. All honcho, no poncho. Ankle-biting all-star.”

  Kyre’s father beamed and slapped Kyre’s back. To Basque, he said, “Waterin’ sprout. Thirty-nine.”

  “Thank you for taking care of my son,” Kyre translated.

  “It’s my pleasure,” Basque answered.

  “Glue,” Kyre said.

  His father nodded, shook a fist at Basque, and then the father and son walked off.

  As he watched them go, Basque asked, “Did you understand what they said, Yesenia?”

  His young maid jumped. “Huh? What?”

  “Kyre and his father. Could you understand what they were saying?”

  “Mostly? The dialect we used out in the camps is a bit different.”

  “I see.” Basque wondered more about the vernacular that most of his students used. There was nothing like it in Hianbru, and Basque wondered if it had grown out of a need to keep secrets from the harsh ruling class.

  “Miss Cayelyn and her mother are also waiting for you,” Yesenia said, pulling Basque out of his thoughts.

  “Oh, yes. Thanks. Please lead the way.”

  She bowed.

  “Oh! What about Jame and his parents?”

  “Mister Jame informed me that his father was unable to come after all.”

  The walk to the room Cayelyn was in wasn’t far from Emilisa’s family, and they arrived just as Yesenia finished answering his question.

  “That’s a shame,” Basque said. He had twenty-five students, and so far, he’d only met three of their parents, and that was counting Banca’s deceased father.

  As before, Yesenia announced his presence, and he entered. Cayelyn and her mother had been sitting on the sofa, but they both stood when he came in.

  “Gerenet-Shr!” Cayelyn cleared her throat and glanced at her mother out of the side of her eyes. Her mother looked at Cayelyn with a concerned expression. “Gerenet-Shr,” she said again. “This is my mother, Claurie.”

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Ryder.”

  “Oh, please, call me Claurie.”

  Cayelyn was a younger, spitting-image of her mother. They had the same azure hair and the same teal eyes. Both of them had a light complexion and a similar jaw structure. Cayelyn would grow up attractive.

  Claurie wore a rose gold uniform similar to the one that Sophia wore, and like the academy’s head maid, Cayelyn’s mother moved with a fluid grace that Basque had come to take as a hallmark of Kruamian maids. Even Yesenia’s movements were becoming smoother and more graceful as she worked with Sophia.

  “Gerenet-Shr, I don’t think you understand just how grateful I am that you are teaching my daughter.”

  “I’m the one who should be grateful. Your daughter is exemplary. She is a natural leader in the classroom and has been invaluable to me. I honestly don’t know what I would do without her.”

  Cayelyn’s face went from pink to red. She turned and hid her face from both her mother and Basque. Once more, Claurie gave her daughter a concerned look.

  “Please, sit,” Basque said and pointed at the sofa as Yesenia came over with tea.

  As she sat, Claurie shook her head. “No. I’m serious about how happy I am. Until Duchess Norellia took me, I was a maid here at Dyntril. I know what it’s like for elevators. I knew what I was sending my daughter into.”

  Unable to hold back the anger that shot through him, Basque said, “Then why did you?”

  “Because Natt was supposed to be her teacher.”

  The mention of his girlfriend cooled Basque off. “Natt?”

  Claurie nodded. “She’s the person I second most respect, after my mistress, Duchess Norellia. The Duchess heard that Natt was supposed to be the elev—”

  Basque held up his hand. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’m not allowing my students to refer to themselves in that way. I am training Yani hunters. They are students in Class E. Nothing else.”

  The room was filled with silence for a few seconds, then Claurie nodded. “It makes sense now.”

  Basque wondered what made sense, something dealing with Natt, or something dealing with his students.

  Before he could ask, Claurie continued, “Anyway, the Duchess heard that Natt would be the Class E teacher again and said that she would sponsor Cayelyn. I’m so fortunate to have such a wonderful mistress.”

  The door behind Basque exploded open. All three jumped out of their seats and looked at the door. A noble woman with rose gold hair, rose gold eyes, and wearing a rose gold dress stomped into the room.

  “Duchess?” Claurie asked.

  Duchess Norellia shoved her finger into Basque’s chest. “You outwall, Yani shit!”

  “Duchess!” Claurie yelled.

  Turning her attention to Claurie, Norellia said, “Do you know what this outwall-Yani-er did? Not only did he take in that-that Jorellan left-over trash, but he has Cayelyn working with her?!”

  “Duchess Norellia!” Cayelyn said. “I volunteered.”

  Norellia turned to Cayelyn. “You…volunteered? To work and help that Yani?”

  Cayelyn nodded.

  The duchess took a step back from Basque. “What? Why?”

  Cayelyn’s mother’s face was also pale, and her hands trembled. “Cayelyn?”

  “Duchess, Mother, I watched Reianna, one of my classmates, be bullied and beaten by Banca, then that same girl saved Banca’s life.”

  The two older women stood silently.

  “Banca beat me to a pulp once for spilling food on her. She beat Reianna daily for no reason whatsoever. What sort of person would I be if I couldn’t put that one time behind me?”

  Basque’s stomach churned. He had no idea that Cayelyn and Banca had any sort of history.

  She looked at him. “It’s fine, Gerenet-Shr. You needed help, and I was the only one who could do it. I owe you that much at least. Plus, she doesn’t remember me anyway.”

  Looking back at her mother, Cayelyn said, “Maybe this is actually my thanks to Banca.”

  “Your thanks?”

  “Thanks to her, I knew I didn’t want to follow in your footsteps. You guys might have worked together to send me here, but I still had to want to come. Sorry, Mom, I wanted to follow in the Duchess’s footsteps, not yours.”

  Claurie smiled. “You were a lousy maid, anyway.”

  Norellia cleared her throat. “Claurie, Cayelyn, would you two mind giving me a minute of privacy with the foreign ambassador?”

  The two Ryder women looked at each other. Cayelyn nodded. Her mother said, “Of course, mistress,” and the two left the room.

  As Norellia sat, Yesenia silently cleared the used teacups and replaced them with two fresh ones.

  “Ambassador Gerenet, you are so entangled in my life. My maid—my closest confidant—her daughter’s life is in your hands. On top of that, you are fucking my best friend.” She took a sip of her tea. “Your maid is skilled.”

  Basque didn’t say anything. The rose gold-haired woman might think that Basque was mixed up in her life, but he didn’t even know her. She was nothing to him.

  “But if you fuck either of them over, I’ll do everything in my power to make whatever it is that you people want here impossible to get.”

  He crossed his arms. “Really? Tell me, Duchess Norellia, what did you do to the people who took Natt’s eye? Where were you when she was stuck at the bottom of a bottle?”

  Norellia’s face reddened.

  “You have a mighty fine high-horse. Make sure it doesn’t turn into a Yani beneath you.” He downed his tea, like Emilisa’s father had, and dumped the cup back on the saucer.

  Standing, he looked down on the duchess. “I don’t need your threats to take care of what’s more than important to me. Come, Yesenia. I’m done here.”

  Basque stormed out of the room without waiting for a response from the duchess. While he was glad that she cared for Cayelyn and Natt, he wasn’t about to let a Kruamian claim to value people he probably loved more than she did.

  He took a breath, and his heart stopped racing. It wasn’t her fault for doubting him. When someone lived in a shithole, it couldn’t be helped if everything around them stunk.