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their sides or crossed behind their backs. Stone is an exception. He never has a smile to begin with nor is he harassing any of the ladies in the hall nor cavorting with any friends. He appears to always be walking tall and alert, even when he doesn’t know I’m watching.

When Stone arrives, I stop him from entering. “Elder, may I have a word?” He’s on guard. Because of the unanticipated stop, not because it’s me who stopped him. And, like always, he has that unrelenting anger in his eyes when he looks at me. Breathe, Stone. You’re not in danger. His posture softens.

“Yes, sir. Master Martelli, sir,” he replies like a slave.

Is that what I am doing to these students? Making them mere slaves of perfection. Is it so unfathomable to ask for good manners at all times? Sometimes it feels as if I’m merely taking on a parenting role for these damned children. They should be learning these lessons at the dinner table. And this one hasn’t had that luxury for some time, yet he seems to grasp the concept more so than many of the others. It’s a shame his parents had to die. They were raising a son who could have made a great name for himself in this city.

“I’ve been watching you, Elder.” I pause for a long moment, waiting for a reaction. Like his sister, he doesn’t have any strong tells, except for the hate I’m constantly having to subdue. He needs to know the truth. “You have the makings of an Elite in you. I must admit, with your late start on this season’s teachings and your late start all around as a student, I didn’t have high hopes. But you’ve gathered yourself quite well and are excelling at many of your courses. I heard you even earned some bragging rights with a solid blow to the Master of Combat. Not that a man of etiquette would do such a thing, but it’s something I’d like to talk more to you about. I cannot be tardy to my own lesson, so we shall discuss it later tonight. Come to my lounge just before the dinner hour. I will have someone escort you from the Redwood Chamber. Now, please take your seat.”

I stare out my chamber window with my hands on the warmed wooden sill. The sun remains high. I enjoy this season most, I think. Early mornings, longer days, nice warm evenings allowing for a dinner out on the terrace. Some are too hot, but most are just right. It is very romantic. I pick up my tumbler and take a sip. The warm oaken flavor runs past my tongue and down my throat. “Ellia?”

“Yes, sir.” As requested, she’s donning one of her most elegant dresses. Not one I would have her wear if she were a dinner guest of mine, but one I would expect her to wear if she desired a few wandering eyes to find her. Midnight-black, form-fitting with a low back and a teasing slit up the side. And she wears her hair up in an intricate bun, except for a dash of bangs hanging low to conceal her power.

“What season do you enjoy most?”

“Excuse me, sir?”

“Please. Answer the question.”

“I don’t ponder such things, but…” She ponders now. “I suppose Spring, sir.”

“And why is that?”

“New life. It provides opportunity for something better. Opportunity to smother out all that is evil in this world.”

An interesting answer. She doesn’t fear death. She may even be seeking it. She survives because she’s human, and that is what life does. It tries to survive at all cost. She waits for a worthy opponent, though, to take her out of this world. She is the evil that needs smothering. A necessary evil.

I rotate back to the window. “Spring will be here soon enough. Myself, I enjoy the summer heat. No underlying motives that involve cleaning up this world of its filth. I simply enjoy the warmth. And the longer days, I think. The longer days are nice. More opportunity to become who we aspire to be.” I pause and look over my shoulder at her. “For those of us who don’t live in the shadows, of course. Please, have a seat.”

I sit down at my desk. Ellia sits, but she chooses the settee by the hearth, making herself comfortable. A small slight. She takes the opportunities when she can. I rise, giving her a knowing glare, and sit across from her in an armchair.

“Cross your legs, dear.” She sits properly. Another small slight. She knows my expectations. “As I mentioned, I have a menial task for you this evening. But don’t dodge it just yet. It may turn out to be an evening to remember.” She lifts her chin and narrows her eyes. If I were her father, I would be furious with the attire she’s chosen. With her hair up, her neckline reveals too much provocative flesh. But I’m not her father. And tonight, it is what I requested. “This evening, in the hours you work best, you will visit the arena at twilight. You know our prized pupil, Stone McLarin. He is your target tonight. Take him all the way. And don’t be surprised if there are spectators. It is time we stop the charade.”

A knock at the door. “Yes.”

Sasha pokes her head in. I’ve trained her to communicate with her Instincts. Most believe her to be a mere mute servant of mine. Astor thinks her a prisoner, but the knowledge she will leave here with is immeasurable.

“Elder Alderock, sir,” she communicates. I give her a nod. She disappears, and in steps Stone McLarin.

I rise to my feet and greet him properly. “Elder, thank you for joining us.” Ellia glowers at me. I haven’t briefed her on the little game Stone and I are delved

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