Page 28 of Avalon Tower
“I think we can all agree on that,” I say.
“Nia,” says Serana, “will you join the rest of us in our classes? We only just started.”
“Why would she need to go to our classes?” Tarquin asks sharply. “She’s not going to be in MI-13. She won’t be a real Agent of Camelot with a torc. She’s just getting the real agents in and out. Like a taxi driver. Transportation.”
My head throbs. “I think Raphael wants me to have some basic skills.”
“Well, you’ll find it very difficult,” Tarquin says. “I mean, I grew up in Camelot, and I trained to go to this academy for years. There are feeder schools to prepare us. What have you done these past years?”
“I work in a bookstore,” I say.
“A store?” He sounds scandalized. “Right. What—like, you stand at the till and take people’s money, and give them change? Coins and that sort of thing?”
“Have you never been in a shop before?” I ask.
“Not really.” His eyebrows are near his hairline. “And I’ve certainly never had breakfast with someone who worked in one. We have all sorts here now, don’t we? Interesting times. Stay with me, and I’ll help you get through those classes—because they are quite complicated.” His thigh is a little too close to mine. “Oh, dear. You’re using the wrong fork right now.”
“Honestly,” his friend adds, aghast.
Tarquin points. “That’s a salad fork. And we don’t change hands with the forks and knives here. That’s out of the question. Listen, they usually get rid of people who can’t keep up or who make buffoonish mistakes, but the Pendragon family is very well integrated here. My father is on the board, and my uncle is a professor.”
I inch away. “That’s nice of you to offer, but I think I’ll be fine. I’ve never had a problem with learning from books.”
He leans in closer, and the muscles around his mouth tighten. “This place can get really overwhelming, especially if you aren’t cut from the same cloth. But you seem like you might have some hidden potential, and I could help you bring it out. I could tutor you in my room. I have a legacy room in the Green Knight Tower.”
His arm brushes against mine.
“Aren’t you lucky,” I say, my tone flat.
“Just tell him what you actually think, Nia,” Serana snaps. “Here, let me show you how it’s done.”
She leans over and slams her knife down into the table. The blade thunks into the wood, half an inch deep, between me and Tarquin. It wobbles, staying deeply lodged in the oak.
“She’s not fucking interested, Tarquin,” she says. “She isn’t going to sleep with you for favors.”
Tarquin’s eyes widen. “Are you implying that’s what I was asking for? I was merely being chivalrous. We’ve all heard about her screaming at imaginary people, so I figured I could offer her a hand.” He turns to me, narrowing his green eyes. “But obviously, you’re not interested in the help of a gentleman.” His jaw works. “Good luck with some of the other men here if you think I’m not good enough for you. Did you really think I was trying it on? I have much better offers than someone who works in a shop.”
The guy next to him leans forward. “She’s a septic. It’s rhyming slang from London, you know? Septic tank. Rhymes with Yank.”
“Septic,” Tarquin repeats acidly. He stands abruptly and throws his napkin down, then marches away from the table. Tarquin’s friend blinks, staring slowly around him, as if he’s not sure how to react. Then he gets up and hurries after his friend.
Right. Now Tarquin hates me. I haven’t had enough sleep for this. “So, they’ll be the Pendragons Viviane mentioned when she said she hoped they’d cut me down fast.”
“Did she really say that?” asks Tana.
“They’re all absolute tossers.” Serana glowers after the retreating men. “Tarquin and most of the gold torcs are an insufferable bunch of twats, but they can’t be avoided in this place. Nor can Viviane. The thing is, Tarquin and his lot don’t even deserve the gold. It’s just that the people in charge of Avalon Tower make sure the Pendragon family stays happy. The Pendragons think they run Camelot.”
“But they’re destined for mediocrity,” Tana says with a sigh.
I raise my eyebrow. “Did you see that in your cards or something?”
“No.” Tana shrugs. “They’re just absolute bellends.”
Serana looks me over and frowns. “Look at the state of you. Finish your food. We need to get you some proper Fey clothes.”
CHAPTER 9
Serana leads me through a maze of interconnecting halls, our footsteps echoing around us. Avalon Tower is even larger than I’d first thought, and it’s hard to keep track of where we are. Serana’s legs are much longer than mine, and I struggle to keep up as we climb four flights of crooked, winding stairs. On the top floor, rib-vaulted arches stretch high above us. Diamond-pane windows overlook the courtyard, where wildflowers grow among the tall grasses and apple trees.