“I wasn’t there,” Lady Barb reminded her.
Emily scowled. It had been easy to forget, over the past three months, that Lady Barb was no longer a tutor. She’d hoped Lady Barb would return to Whitehall, even though Lady Barb herself hadn’t been keen on the idea. If nothing else, she’d be near Sergeant Miles. But they had just been arguing ...
“I don’t know which way I would have voted,” Lady Barb added. “You’re not the only student with a heavy workload. And I would have wondered about your ability to handle the more ... social ... aspects of the job. And yet ... you did save the school more than once. You deserve some kind of reward for your services.”
I would have preferred permanent access to the library, Emily thought. Or a place at the school for the rest of my life.
She pushed the thought out of her head. She wanted to stay at Whitehall, but she knew that wouldn’t be possible. There was too much else she had to do. Besides, Gordian wouldn’t hire her as a tutor until she had her mastery and a great deal more experience. Merely having a certificate wasn’t enough, not at Whitehall. A tutor who didn’t know what he was talking about wouldn’t last long at a school of magic.
“I’ll do my best,” she promised. “I ...”
“I’ll be leaving tonight,” Lady Barb said, cutting her off. “I have to head back to the border. There might be more trouble to the south, near the Inner Sea.”
Emily felt a stab of dismay. “So soon?”
“Work doesn’t stop, not for us.” Lady Barb reached out and squeezed Emily’s shoulder. “I’ll keep the chat parchment with me. You can write whenever you like.”
“I wish you could stay longer.” Emily swallowed, hard. “Why were you fighting with Sergeant Miles?”
“None of your business,” Lady Barb said, her voice suddenly very cold. “Suffice it to say that we had a small disagreement.”
Emily winced. “I ...”
“Don’t worry about it,” Lady Barb said. Her lips twisted. “He managed to blindside me and ... things went downhill from there. I’ll speak to him before I go.”
“Oh,” Emily said. “I ... was it my fault?”
“Not everything is your fault, Emily,” Lady Barb said. She smiled, suddenly. “Although, if you want to accept the blame, I’m sure Miles will be happy to give you a truly appalling detention.”
“I don’t have time for detention,” Emily said, quickly. “Will you be staying for dinner?”
“I think so,” Lady Barb said.
She rose. “I believe Madame Rosalinda wishes to see you in the dorms,” she added. “Go there. I’ll see you at dinner.”
Emily nodded, wondering just what had actually happened between Lady Barb and Sergeant Miles. They’d been lovers for the past two—perhaps three—years. She’d never heard them argue before, certainly not like that. They’d been so angry they’d forgotten to put up a privacy ward before starting to shout at each other. It didn’t bode well for their future.
She hurried out of the door and up the stairs. The Sixth Year dorms were in the upper levels, isolated from the lower dorms by a layer of study rooms and spellchambers. Gordian had put a small army of wardcrafters to work updating the protections over the summer, according to Lady Barb. In hindsight, Emily suspected he’d been planning the dueling club for the last year or two. The duelists would need dozens of spellchambers to practice their arts before entering the dueling circle.
And I still can’t think of anything else, Emily thought, as she stepped through the door and into the corridor. The wards shimmered around her, checking her identity before they allowed her to proceed. There’s nothing that will appeal to most of the school.
“Emily,” Madame Rosalinda said. She hadn’t changed either. She still looked like an old gypsy woman, wearing a long dress and a headscarf that concealed her hair. “Come with me.”
Emily looked around with interest as Madame Rosalinda led her down the corridor. She’d never been allowed into the Sixth Year dorms, not even to see Aloha. The Sixth Years guarded their privacy, she’d been told. Younger students tried to sneak in, of course—it was an old tradition—but most of them wound up being turned into frogs or kicked out by the Sixth Years. It was vanishingly rare for anyone to get an invitation into the dorms.
They looked very similar to the Fifth Year dorms, she noted, but the common room and study chambers looked larger. Magic hung in the air, including a handful of protective charms she didn’t recognize. Emily felt them inspecting her as Madame Rosalinda stopped in front of a gold-edged door at the far end of the corridor. A touch of her finger opened it, revealing a large suite. Emily followed her into the suite, shaking her head in disbelief. It looked like a luxury hotel.
“These are the Head Pupil quarters,” Madame Rosalinda said. She jabbed a finger around the suite. “You have a large bedroom and bathroom in there, a private office there ... even a small kitchen, if you wish to cook for yourself. Draw supplies from the kitchens downstairs and bring them up. You’re the only one allowed to enter these rooms without special permission, but you can invite whoever you like. You also”—she pointed to the office—“have a private door. Students who want to see you can visit without having to walk through the dorms.”
“It’s too much,” Emily said.
“Every other student has a large bedroom to themselves,” Madame Rosalinda informed her. “It’s one of the perks of surviving five years in school.”
“Thanks,” Emily said, dryly.
She peered into the bedroom. It was easily large enough for two or three people—the bed alone was large enough for two people to share comfortably—and the bathroom was even bigger. She’d never had a private bathtub before, not at Whitehall. She had the sudden urge to undress and take a soak for the next few hours. It was a luxury she’d grown to love over the past five years.
“You can also arrange for the floor to be swept and the bedding to be changed by the staff,” Madame Rosalinda added. “But you would be well advised to do it for yourself.”
Just to keep from getting lazy, Emily thought.
“Thank you,” she said. “But it seems too large ...”
“You’re the Head Girl,” Madame Rosalinda said. “You are expected to work for this, you know.”
“Yeah,” Emily said. “I know.”
Chapter Four
EMILY AWOKE, SLOWLY.