Chapter 118 — She Deserves Better

Chapter 118: Chapter 118 — She Deserves Better

~ Raven ~

The question was out before Raven realised what she had just asked.

Ah.

The court had gone quiet, and not because everyone was minding their own business. Students stopped what they were doing to stare at her, and Raven caught sight of yet another raised slate near the weapons rack.

Could she get through one class without somebody recording it?

Dante hadn’t moved. His hands were loose and his shoulders relaxed, but he was watching her so intently that the back of her neck prickled.

Right. Possibly that was too far.

Then he turned fully toward her and smiled, which somehow made it worse.

"Jealous?" He repeated the word slowly before laughing loudly enough for the others to hear. "Of what, Rivers? Go on. Help me out."

He spread both hands. "Name the thing."

Raven studied him. Dante had spent enough time amusing himself at her expense for her to recognise when he was genuinely enjoying himself, and he had never needed to make this much of a show of it.

Got you.

"You’re trying awfully hard to convince me," Raven said.

"Of what?"

"That you’re not jealous."

His smile stayed in place, but his eyes narrowed slightly.

Raven opened her mouth to press him, but her breath caught when Dante suddenly stepped closer. She barely had time to look up at him before he reached over and ruffled her hair.

She blinked, then pulled away, her hand flying up to her head. As if her hair wasn’t already a mess, with grit caught in it and half the strands slipping out of their tie.

She glared at him, but he was already walking off with that familiar smirk.

"Fix your stance, Rivers. You keep dying on your back foot."

"Prymont."

The instructor’s voice came from the middle of the court, sharp enough to draw Raven’s attention.

"Would you care to explain what that was?"

Dante raised a hand over his shoulder without turning around.

"I’ve gone off volunteering. Find someone else."

He disappeared through the archway, leaving Raven standing under the stares of everyone in the court.

She was bruised down one side, both palms had opened again beneath her wraps, and her hair looked like something had nested in it.

Dante had strolled out whistling, yet somehow she was the one left looking like a mess.

Near the north wall, Celeste Blackthorn was still smiling.

Marvellous.

Raven straightened, wiped her hand down her thigh and stared back at the students nearest her. A boy by the weapons rack looked away, while two girls in Prymont trim suddenly became interested in a loose strap.

By the time her gaze reached Celeste, the smile had faded considerably. Raven held her stare a little longer before turning away.

"Positions," the instructor ordered. "All of you. Now."

He didn’t pair them up again. Instead, he walked to the centre of the court and waited for everyone to settle.

Raven had a feeling she knew where this was going.

"Strength is worth very little if you lose your balance before the fight starts," he said.

There it is.

"Some of you are standing like you’ve been posed for a portrait. Watch."

He turned slightly sideways and settled into a stance.

"Feet about shoulder-width apart, with one ahead of the other. Don’t put them in a straight line." He shifted his weight back and forth. "Keep your rear foot ready to move. Plant yourself too firmly and you’ll struggle to adjust when someone comes at you."

Raven watched without looking at anyone else.

"Knees loose. Don’t lean over your front leg." He demonstrated, shifting too far forward. "Do this and you’re already off balance. Somebody just has to help you the rest of the way."

Which is what he did. Five times.

"Hands up." He raised them into a guard. "Protect yourself without blocking your own view. You need to see what your opponent is doing."

He straightened and looked around the class.

"Start there. You’d be surprised how many people have never been properly taught the basics."

Raven moved her rear foot slightly to the left. The instructor glanced down at the adjustment but continued without drawing attention to it.

She decided she could live with him.

He was about to begin the next demonstration when he noticed Instructor Berry beneath the archway. She held an academy folio against her chest and looked thoroughly irritated as she beckoned him over.

They spoke quietly, and Berry opened the folio to show him something halfway down a page. Whatever it was, he read it twice.

"Ferrow. Dalen," he called without looking back. "Keep an eye on them. Nobody leaves the court, and no sparring while I’m gone. If I come back and find anyone fighting, all of you are running the perimeter until the dinner bell."

He left with Berry, and the class remained in position for another few seconds before students relaxed and began talking.

Raven walked back to the others, slowly flexing her sore fingers.

"Your hair," Tessa said.

"I know."

"No, genuinely—"

"I am aware, Tessa."

Brielle looked her over but kept whatever comment she had to herself. Raven appreciated it.

Thalia hadn’t spoken. She stood slightly behind them with her arms folded across her stomach, staring past the group. She had been quiet on and off since the bridge, and Raven turned toward her.

"Thalia—"

"So which of us is going to say it Grace?"

The voice came from the upper-years’ end of the court, loud enough for the students nearby to hear. Sabine Kestrel had pushed away from the wall.

"Say what?" Grace Wren asked without turning.

"That you’ve spent the entire morning pretending you don’t know your own cousin."

Thalia went rigid beside Raven. Tessa turned toward the voice, while Brielle frowned.

Grace glanced over her shoulder with the sort of weary expression Raven had seen often enough at Blackthorn, usually when a noble was being asked to deal with someone they considered beneath them.

"I don’t know what you think you’re doing, Kestrel."

"I’m asking a question."

"Then ask a better one."

"Fine." Sabine folded her arms. "I saw her talking to you before. Now you’re acting like you don’t know her." She tipped her chin toward Thalia. "What’s that about?"

The conversations around them began to die down as more students turned to listen.

"Please don’t," Thalia said.

Her voice was so quiet that Raven wasn’t sure Sabine had heard, but Grace turned to look directly at her.

For a moment, Raven found herself hoping she would soften or at least say something that might explain why she had apparently been avoiding her cousin.

"She isn’t my concern," Grace said.

"She’s your cousin—"

"She has nothing to do with me."

Thalia lowered her eyes without a word. Raven glanced at her, waiting for her to say something, but she kept staring at the ground.

Raven knew she was supposed to stay out of this. But when Grace turned back to her conversation as though nothing had happened, she felt her chest tighten.

Thalia was still standing right there. Grace could at least have the decency to look at her.

"Good."

The word came out louder than she’d intended, drawing the attention of the students around her.

"Sorry?" Sabine asked.

"I said good." Raven kept her eyes on Grace. "If she’s nothing to do with you, that’s the best news she’s had all week."

Do not say the next part.

"Because she deserves better."

Thalia looked up in horror as Grace turned around and gave Raven her full attention.

Only then did Raven realise how little she knew about what she had just stepped into. Her hands were bleeding, her hair was ruined, and she had involved herself in another family’s problems in front of an entire class.

But she would not take it back.