Page 91 of Self Studies
Advisor Crowe's little speech left me questioning how bad the split between Natural and Rimmed Mages really was and how I fit into that. I wasn’t a Rimmed Mage or a Natural Mage. I was something else. Something I was still figuring out.
I hugged myself.
Ram still roamed the halls, though the administration downgraded him to pink slip status. The MA hadn’t even seen him when they came through the portal. In the end, it had been his word against mine. The Institute’s security feeds went down before Ram found me in the library. There was no proof of his involvement—just a lot of suspicion.
I clenched my fists. That asshole abandoned both his mentor and the women in his harem. Although only Alexa died in the fight, the other two didn’t survive long. The MA questioned them about their side of the story. Loyal to Ram to the end, the MA labeled them as evil and executed them.
I unclenched my fists, and a shiver ran up my spine.
“Hey, snap out of it,” Roisin said.
She threw a pencil at me, and Sandy slipped her arm around my waist. I let my head rest on my friend’s shoulder.
I’d woken up in the medical wing, this time with Sandy and Roisin by my side. For the last three days, with administrative approval, the two had stayed with me. They even brought me food, so I didn’t have to leave my Shell.
“Thank you,” I mumbled. “I don’t know what I would have done without you two.”
“You would have shacked up with Beryl,” Roisin said. “I know the truth of it.”
I looked at one of the shelves which now had a stuffed turtle watching over me. Two knitted wings flowed majestically from where Roisin had attached them to its shell. I can’t fix any of this, Beryl’s note had read. I didn’t sell Ram those gadgets. I’d no idea Advisor Crowe was taking students. No one did. Forgive me or not, believe me, or not, feel better, my Goddess.
“Maybe,” I answered Roisin’s playful words with a lie.
Beryl the Boyfriend wasn’t so much anymore. Even more, now the MA was here actively looking for people in the wrong, he’d take a step back from me so he wouldn’t negatively impact my life in any way. He even answered my texts with stupid puns and jokes which had nothing to do with the text I sent him.
It was infuriating but also very Beryl.
Although I’d tried to go to Professor Garnet, he didn't have a moment between the MA and his administrative duties. None of the teachers were even holding office hours. With our relationship frowned upon, I didn’t want to get him into any more trouble. So I left it. Director Fleming promised me my tutoring with Professor Garnet would continue once things calmed down. I needed to be patient.
I blew out a breath. Patience wasn’t something I was good at, especially now I had my own wants. Why did the men in my life all have to be so complicated?
“At least Mercedes is leaving you alone,” Roisin said when I’d sat thinking for a bit too long.
My roommate smiled at me, trying to pull me out of the black funk that had, once again, settled over my shoulders.
“Yeah, but only because Saffron’s been glued to her hip since Yasmine ratted out Professor Garnet’s plan,” Sandy pointed out. “If she were a normal student and not the daughter of Lord Howel, she’d probably be a pink slip by now. But even in here, money rules the world. I wonder how they’ve factored her into the Aptitudes.”
“Why would being rich change her Aptitudes?” I asked.
Roisin’s eyes widened. “It’s not her being rich, it’s her situation. She’s here for Saffron, their, ah. Never mind. Let’s talk about this when you're in a better state of mind.”
I opened my mouth, ready to wring whatever Roisin was going to say out of her, but a knock sounded on our door.
Roisin quickly answered it. “Um, yummy, I’m guessing you’re here for Mercedes? She’s in Saffron’s harem, FYI, and not physically here at the moment.”
“No,” a male voice rumbled. “I’m not here for a fucking car. Is Aphrodite in?”
My eyes narrowed. I recognized the voice. Slowly, I peeked out of my Shell. The new arrival towered over Roisin, which wasn’t hard to do as she was an inch shorter than me even. The ruggedly handsome face who pulled me out of the suitcase looked past my roommate to find my gaze.
“I’m not supposed to talk to the MA without Doctor Roy present,” I said, starting to pull back into my Shell.
“Wait, Aphrodite,” the man said, his expression lost in his facial hair. “I’m not fucking MA. I was the transfer.”
I wrung my hands. The feel of handcuffs digging into my skin conflicted with my memories of him barking orders.
“Look,” the man continued. “I wanted to make sure you’re healing. I pulled your fucking bloody body out of a suitcase, screaming. The word is, you’ve not left your room in three shitty days.”
I didn’t want to admit it, and my lack of response was all the answer he needed.