He grabbed the seat beside her, spun it on one leg and sat on it backward. “You must have heard of me,” he drawled. “Defeating trolls and bandits is impressive, but nothing compared to slaying the biggest giant in Steppe.”
“Did you plant beans by the side of the mountain?” asked Rilla.
Jacques' eyes widened. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before answering, “Y-yes I did.”
“Did you buy those beans for the price of a cow?”
He gulped. “That is correct.”
“And why in the world would you do something so foolish?”
“They were magic beans. I knew it was the only way to get to that giant. I killed him. He was terrorizing a village of innocents.”
Rage burned Rilla's face. “After you killed the giant, what did you do?”
Jacques puffed out his chest. He looked around, meeting the admiring gazes of everyone watching the exchange. “I went on to kill his mother, father, and his brother, too.”
The anger simmering in Rilla's veins boiled over. “Liar!”
Jacques' grin froze on his face like that of a painted puppet. “Pardon?”
“I know the real Jack, and no two men were ever so different! He’s kind and humble. If you had any decency, you would quail at the suffering he’s had to ensure since he killed that giant.”
Jacques stood and puffed his chest again, his features a pale mask. Rilla got out of her seat and smiled when she found herself inches taller than him.
Her brief triumph turned to anxiety, as Madam Florian appeared from behind, her features already twisted. “And who is this paragon of valor, this pillar of bravery? Where is he hiding himself? Surely he’s here at the Academy where he belongs.”
Rilla opened her mouth and snapped it shut. She would not, could not, reveal Jack’s location. He’d be conscripted for defeating the giant as a minor. Or worse, found by Lord Bluebeard and punished for escaping his master and stealing his bride.
Madam Florian smirked and waved her arm with a flourish. “And this is why we mustn’t believe everything we read in the papers.”
A few snickers came from the surrounding tables. Rilla felt all eyes on her, like she was the filthy liar and not that insufferable Jacques. Millissa ducked her head, averting her gaze.
She hadn’t been in the academy half a day and already everyone hated her.
Azure Salt
As lunch dragged on, Millissa remained quiet. Rilla picked at her food, having lost her appetite. From the corner of her eye, she noticed the table of commoner girls giving her concerned glances, even looks of sympathy, but she paid them no mind. She wanted no one’s pity, as she had enough of her own.
Obnoxious laughter erupted every few minutes from Jacques’ table. She knew the gossip had turned from his imaginary giant to her. Rilla swallowed hard. This situation felt like home. No, it was worse. Her heart pulsed at the thought of everything at stake. The threat of execution for having a secret power she didn’t even understand. Even if she kept it hidden, she still had to pass her Academy assessment or marry Lord Bluebeard at sword point.
She couldn’t even bring herself to glare at Madam Florian, who sat at the head table looking smug.
“That was a very noble thing you did.” A familiar voice startled Rilla. She turned to see a smiling Bruna once again. “I always suspected Jacques’ tale was rubbish. It was quite satisfying to see him scramble to defend it.”
“Thanks.” Rilla gave Bruna a wan smile.
“Your friend went through enough when he killed that giant, so protecting him from getting conscripted was brave. I doubt he’s jumping at the chance to kill more ogres.”
Rilla felt her body unwind. “You’re right, he’s not.”
Millissa’s suspicious expression smoothed away into one of compassion, and she rested a hand on Rilla’s shoulder. “And please don’t worry about Madam Florian. Her expertise in assassination doesn’t extend to highway bandits, everyone already knows that.”
Rilla shrugged.
“Her so-called tarnished reputation and wounded pride are all in her own head,” said Millissa. “No one else cares. She'll realize this and stop fretting.”
“I hardly call what she does to me ‘fretting,’” Rilla tried to keep the irritation out of her voice. “And what her expertise doesn’t extend to is gratitude. I swear, I’m only glad I saved her hide because of the friendship of her husband. Without the Lord High Steward, I don’t know where I would be.”
“Letters for you, Cadet Perrault.” A clerk swooped in from behind and placed three scrolls on Rilla's table. She wondered who would be writing to her, even though the candidates were few. Bruna bade her goodbye and left the room while Millissa ate baked pears for dessert.
She smiled at the royal seal on the first scroll and opened it.
Dear Rilla,
Are you well? I apologize for not seeing you off.
Negotiations with Tundra are brutal and we are on the verge of war. We're hoping to offer them something to resolve their dispute.
How was your first day? Good, I hope. I await your reply with great anticipation.
Warmest regards,
Armin
Rilla gulped at the thought of the trolls she'd fought causing a war with the Snow Queen. She mentally drafted a reply to him that censored most of her misery and moved on to the next scroll.
Its seal was a coat-of-arms depicting two bluebirds flanking a knight’s helmet. Rilla caught her breath, realizing who this was from. She tore it open and frowned.
Cendrilla,
The bluebirds are always watching you. Ask for one, and it will appear.
Lord Bluebeard,
Ambassador of Steppe
She stared into the parchment until it became a blur. The words to her combined both threat and worry. Should she write back to thank him for his concern? She shook her head. That might encourage him to try something worse than a public tribunal.
A loud bong! reverberated through the dining hall.
“Follow me,” Millissa said. “We first cadets are on the same schedule. Alchemical Defense is next in the foundry.”
Despite the vast size of the room, it was cluttered with clay pots and glass jars sprawled on shelves, table surfaces, and even the floor. Everything was in dire need of dusting or sweeping, and Rilla’s hands itched with the familiar urge to clean, a relic from her conditioning as a servant.
Rilla and Millissa took their seats in the small space reserved for lectures, waiting for the instructor. Other first cadets sat around them. Scattered whispers and giggles came from the different groups of students. She tried to convince herself that not all the gossip was about her, but occasionally, she heard her name.
As she smoothed out her parchment and poised her quill, both provided by Millissa, she focused on her studies. The door burst open, and the instructor flew in with even more flourish than Madam Florian.
“That’s Master Cappello,” Millissa whispered.
The teacher wore a dark brown hooded robe, which trailed the floor. His sleeves extended over his hands, revealing long, pointed fingers. The hood obscured his face, but now and then, Rilla could discern bulging, white eyes on a beardless, yet aged, visage.
“Good afternoon, class.” He lit a small flame beneath a tiny cauldron. “Today, we will learn how to defeat a troll by melting off his skin.”
Rilla squirmed in her seat at the thought of trolls.
“You will learn in Magical Flora and Fauna that in addition to its superior strength, a troll has a skin which no dagger can pierce.” He waved his arms while he spoke, and Rilla more than once feared his sleeve would catch fire.
Master Cappello pulled out from under his desk a troll's arm.
Blood drained from Rilla's face. Her mouth fell open.
“This is, in fact, the arm of one of the very trolls Cadet Perrault defeated when she rescued the Crown Prince. I will use it to demonstrate the power of this elixir.”
He lowered
the arm, elbow first, into the cauldron, causing it to hiss. The hand sticking out twitched, and a gray vapor, smelling of burned hair, rose from the liquid. Rilla clapped her hand over her mouth and nose. When the air cleared, he pulled it out by the wrist.
"Voila!" Master Capello's milky eyes gleamed.
The skin and all other soft tissues were completely gone, leaving only thick, marbled bones. Faint, white smoke rose from the edges of the remaining flesh.
Rilla blinked hard and took deep breaths to stave off an attack of nausea.
“Alchemy is for those of us who cannot battle like Cadet Perrault.” Master Capello winked. “Though I’m certain she will still profit from this knowledge. Brave and powerful though you are, young lady, more resources means more success. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“I… yes, sir.” Rilla replied.
Snickers and whispers floated to her ears from the rear of the room.
“Quiet back there!” barked the instructor. “Cadets Hibern and Vern, I grow weary of reminding you not to gossip during my class!”
Millissa looked back, and Rilla took that as her own opportunity to be nosy. Gwynter and Freida wore smug grins despite being rebuked. Jacques sat between them, grinning. The pale girl appeared disinterested in their discussion.
“When you've finished acting like children, you will form pairs for our experiments.”
Rilla turned to Millissa, but she was already gone. The Queen of Autumn walked to the back of the room to pair up with the pale girl. Rilla sighed. She had hoped their conversation with Bruna had cleared any doubts Millissa may have had about Rilla's honesty.
By the time Rilla thought to pair up with another student, everyone else already had a partner. With a sigh, she walked to an empty table for four.
The Princesses took the two places opposite, both giving Rilla ugly smirks.
“Oh, look,” said Frieda. “Do you think there's any lye in the elixirs?”
“I hope not. I'm allergic to lies.” Gwynter widened her eyes, as though trying to make an obvious point.
“Are you allergic to liars, too?” asked Frieda.
“A-choo! It seems that I am. A-choo-choo-perruut!”
They both laughed and patted their delicate chests as though the effort of merriment had strained their Royal persons.
Rilla rolled her eyes. These two were amateurs compared to Mother and the twins.
Master Cappello pushed a trolley around the room. He handed each pair two clay bowls filled with chopped body parts, and a rack of labeled glass tubes of colored concoctions. “Class, here is your task. You must identify the creatures these body parts originate from. Base your findings on which elixir, or combination thereof, dissolves the flesh.”
Rilla stared at the materials before her. Something sick, something guilty slithered up her spine. These creatures had once been living, breathing beings. They couldn't all have been villains, just guilty of belonging to a magical race by accident of nature. Would her own flesh become a cadet's experiment if her strange power was ever discovered?
“Be careful, class,” said Master Cappello. “One of the elixirs is liquid Witchbane and it can burn through human flesh.”
Shrieking and giggling, the Princesses wriggled bits of skin in each other's faces. Rilla's stomach churned at the sight and she looked at her own experiment only to feel worse.
She pulled out a piece of yellowed flesh from the bowl and set it in a glass dish. As troll skin was gray, she ignored the liquid Trollsbane, reaching for the liquid Ogrebane.
Something soaked her arm. Her skin was covered in a sickly, blue ooze. The surprise of it made her squeak.
The Princesses stilled, their eyes on the liquid on Rilla's arm. They watched it dry into a hard, grainy shell and erupted into laughter, drawing Master Cappello’s attention.
The instructor rushed forward, his sallow skin purple with rage. “Cadet Perrault. Come with me at once!”
He led her to a sink where he poured vial after vial of liquid, fretting as they bubbled and changed color. Eventually, the blue substance dissolved into sand-sized particles. “Are you all right, Cadet? Any signs of nausea, dizziness, itching?”
Rilla shook her head. “I’m fine.”
Master Capello whirled around, pointing his long, crooked forefinger at the gaping Princesses. “Do you know what Azure salt does?”
“Obviously nothing,” said Freida. “Or Perrault would have been vaporized.”
“It can burn through any metal. If the young lady had been wearing a bracelet, the combustion would have seared her arm in two! When will you understand that Alchemy is no laughing matter?”
Gwynter’s cheeks pinked. “You can’t talk to me like that.”
Master Capello’s nostrils flared. “Perhaps you want a demonstration of the powers of combining azure salt and that golden necklace of yours. Any volunteers for searing off this idiot’s head?”
The young woman whom Millissa had paired with whined, staggered to the exit and fainted. Her head and shoulders hit the door, and she fell to the ground, with only half her body inside the room.
“Cadet Prevern!” screeched a familiar voice. Madam Florian helped the shaking young woman to her feet, and they both entered the room. Two clerks followed after her. “What is the meaning of this?”
Before Rilla or Master Capello could speak, Freida stepped forward, holding aloft the scroll from the top of Rilla’s books.
“Does it bother you that your husband is writing to Cadet Perrault? Why would he do such a thing?”
“Perhaps out of gratitude for saving his family,” Rilla snapped.
Madam Florian handed Cadet Prevern to a clerk, strode forward and snatched the scroll from Freida. She broke open the seal and scanned it, her lips curling with disdain. “It always bothered me how easily you defeated those bandits.” She encroached upon Rilla, drowning her senses with the scent of citrus. “Tell me, were you in league with them to get close to my husband?”
Loud gasps echoed from everyone in the foundry.
Rilla stared at her, mouth agape, not even knowing how to respond to something so preposterous.
“Stay away from my husband,” Madam Florian spat.
Rilla's face flushed at the insinuation.
The Vice Chancellor turned to the clerks. “All correspondence from Lord Florian is to come to me from now on, is that understood?”
They nodded, intimidated. Rilla lowered her head, trying to hold back tears of fury and humiliation. Madam Florian had stripped her of one of her only friends, and a powerful one at that. When would this torment end? Would it ever?
She glanced across the room and locked eyes with Millissa. The Autumn Queen quickly averted her gaze. Rilla’s heart sank. The way Madam Florian had put things, it all sounded so plausible. Before the tears fell, she grabbed her things, pushed past the gloating harridan, and headed for the door.
Rilla rushed out of the foundry, almost colliding with someone in her haste to get away. She mumbled an apology and tried walking off, but the other person caught her arm. It was a smiling Bruna.
“The Chancellor asked me to show you to your dormitory. Follow me?”
“Oh.” Rilla walked alongside Bruna back into the main building.
Bruna gave Rilla a warm smile. “Hard day?”
Rilla shrugged.
“I imagine it's difficult being in the same class as three Princesses, a Queen and a Prince.”
Rilla hummed. Bruna was a nice enough girl, but Rilla wasn't going to say anything that might get her into trouble later.
“Did you know, the prestige of this Academy doesn’t come from high-borns like the Princesses?”
“Really?”
“Professor Engel says the Academy is for commoners like us who've defeated magical foes. We're plucked from obscurity and molded into the finest generals.”
That made Rilla smile. “Thanks, Bruna. I can't tell you how much I needed to hear that. But I have to ask why in the Seven Kingdoms are they fawn
ing over Jacques? As far as I can tell, he’s just another commoner. I always thought Princesses were supposed to go for other nobles.”
Bruna grinned. “Princes are in short supply around here. They’re either already married like Prince Behr, enchanted like poor Prince Alec, or insane, like Prince Marcassin, who’s in my class. Whoever is left over is too sought after, like your friend, Prince Armin. So their only hope is a hero like Jacques.”
They reached the wing that housed the dormitories, and Bruna handed her the key. Rilla stepped inside and froze. The room was nothing like she’d imagined, even after adjusting for the grandeur of the campus.
Five large, four-posters piled with fluffy covers and pillows stood in rows. A set of furniture surrounded each bed. Every occupant had their own vanity, nightstands, an armchair, and an armoire. Rilla’s trunks were at the foot of her bed, and she smiled at the light blue linens.
“I hate to have to tell you this,” said Bruna. “But this is the royal dormitory.”
Rilla blanched, hoping Bruna was joking. “Why?”
“That’s where Professor Engel said you should go.” She shrugged. “At least Cadet Autumn is your friend.”
Rilla hummed, hoping Millissa's actions in Alchemical Defense wasn't a snub.
Bruna sighed. “You can always draw your bed curtains for privacy. Come on, let's go to the dining hall for dinner. You’ll feel better on a full stomach.”
“Ugh, no thanks.” The memory of her latest humiliation still throbbed like a broken tooth. “I’m still queasy from Alchemical Defense.”
“The food here is divine. There's no way even your greatest sorrows could ruin that!”
Rilla parted company with Bruna and retreated to the library to avoid the ugly looks and accusations. Between the efforts of Freida, Gwynter and Madam Florian, Rilla felt buried for daring to rise above her so-called station.
Just before lights out, Rilla walked back to her dormitory. The doorknob wouldn't turn. She got out her key and turned it in the lock, but it didn't work.
The Academy (Perrault Chronicles Book 2) Page 7
