CHAPTER 3 - MEDRA

Blake Drakharrow strode down the stone hall ahead of me.

He had let go of my hand as soon as his uncle had finished speaking. Evidently he had decided I wasn't a flight risk at this point.

He'd spoken a few words with his uncle in private then stormed back out of the Keep, gesturing for me to follow.

He'd led the way back into the courtyard where he'd gestured to a soldier to give me a horse, then mounted his own.

We had ridden, not to some other part of the large castle complex as I had expected, but back over the iron bridge and to the mainland. From there, we turned, crossing the iron bridge that led to the sprawling castle of onyx on the third island.

Only when we arrived at the outskirts of the place and Blake dismounted, did I do the same. I marched towards him, determined not to be silent any longer.

"Where are we and what the fuck just happened back there?"

He looked up from his horse slowly. "Foul mouth you have."

"You haven't heard anything yet," I said sweetly. "Please don't tell me you took all of that bullshit seriously."

"I did. I do." He paused. His jaw twitched with tension. "And yes, we are."

I spoke through clenched teeth. "We are what?"

"You know exactly what. Betrothed." He raised one perfectly shaped white brow. "I can tell you're excited. I'm not surprised. Most women would be."

"Excited?" I exploded, ignoring his ill-fated attempt at humor. "When and if I wed, I'll choose my mate. He won't be chosen for me by some..."

"What?" Blake turned on me, his gray eyes suddenly clouded with wrath. "By the most powerful vampire in the Thralldom? Do you have any idea, any clue at all what just happened back there?"

"Why don't you enlighten me? It's obvious you're dying to."

"You were just elevated beyond the mundane."

I snorted with laughter. "Is that what you'd call it?"

His eyes narrowed. "Do you have any idea how many blightborn women would literally kill to be in your place right now? I found you on a pile of corpses." He sniffed the air with his hawkish nose, and his aristocratic features twisted in disgust. "You still reek of them."

I crossed my arms self-consciously. He was right. That didn't mean he wasn't also a bastard for saying so.

"I haven't exactly had a chance to take a bath. Someone was dragging me around in chains, as you'll recall," I pointed out.

"Well, you'll have all of the perfumed baths you want now. But there's far more to the bargain."

"More than being chained to you for the rest of our lives? That is what those words meant, right?" I hesitated, then added, "And I'm not the only one, am I?"

"Oh, you noticed Regan, did you? She looked delighted, didn't she?" He shrugged. "Don't worry about her. I'll see to it that she falls in line."

"I won't worry," I said. "Because I don't share. And I'm not your mate, no matter what your uncle or anyone else announced."

"Keep telling yourself that. But you felt the binding. You had no choice. Neither did I. Do you really think I'd have chosen this?" He looked me up and down, then shook his head. "You're beneath me in every possible way. Whoever you are, whatever you are."

I snarled, surprising myself. "Good to hear. Because you won't be touching me at any point. Let's get that straight. You certainly won't be breeding with me."

"I have no plans to touch you if you were the last woman in the Thralldom," he snapped back, looking just as furious. "But if I did..."

"Yes, yes, I should feel ever so honored, ever so grateful. Is that what you like to tell yourself as a woman lies beneath you? You think to yourself how honored she must feel? Gods, you're a piece of work." I shook my head. "I almost feel sorry for Regan."

He narrowed his eyes. "Regan is thrilled to be my future consort. She doesn't need your pity."

"Right. I'm sure. So, what now?" I changed the subject abruptly. "Where are we?"

"Ah, yes, your second question. If you're finished trying to convince yourself you aren't bound to me..."

"I'm not, never will be."

"Whatever. This–" He gestured around us. "Is Bloodwing Academy."

I wrinkled my nose. "What?"

"An academy. A school. They do have those where you come from, don't they?"

I glared at him. "I believe I've heard the words once or twice."

"Good. I daresay it's too much to hope you can read and write, too, and aren't secretly some swine herder's daughter."

I smirked, trying not to let him get to me. "You have no idea." I frowned. "Why does it matter though?"

"Because this is the school you'll be attending. Beginning tomorrow."

My jaw dropped. "What?"

"It's the most exclusive institution in Sangratha. You should be..."

"Honored," I supplied. "Funny how I'm not though."

He started walking towards an arched stone walkway.

"Where are you going?" I demanded, running to catch up.

"I thought I'd show you a few important things. Like where your room will be. Where you'll eat. And where you should be tomorrow morning when the bells ring to summon you to the first day of class."

"Oh, really? And where will you be during all of this?"

"I'm a third year student," he began. "So I'll be..."

I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing. "You? You're a student here? Aren't you a hundred years old? I thought you were a vampire prince."

He glared at me. "I'm closer to your age than you might think. And I may be a prince of my house, but even princes attend the Academy. Nobles from around the kingdom send their sons and daughters to Bloodwing. It's not like a school for mortal children, like you may be thinking. This is a school for..." He searched for the right word. "Forging us into who we'll be as adults. Establishing us as the most powerful elite of Sangratha. We are the kingdom's future rulers, after all."

I eyed him up and down, taking in his lean, well-muscled frame. "You look pretty adult to me already."

"Was that an accidental compliment, Pendragon?"

I made a sour face. "Absolutely not."

But it was his turn to smirk. "In any case, we spend three or four years at the Academy, depending on our specialty."

"Specialty?"

He paused along the stone corridor, his face impatient. "By the Bloodmaiden. Fine. Let's get this over with. I keep forgetting how completely ignorant you are."

I ignored the insult. After all, it sounded like these were things I needed to know.

"There are many highblood houses in Sangratha," he continued. "But four have always run the kingdom and it is these four which lead the school. Each one represents an ancient vampire bloodline. House Drakharrow–that's my house. House Avari. House Orphos."

"And House Mortis," I supplied.

When he looked surprised, I shrugged. "I listened."

"Fine. You know one miniscule piece of information about my world. Good for you."

What an ass. "What about Regan? Her last name isn't any of those four. But she was still standing up there with your uncle on the dais."

"She's a Pansera. Regan comes from a very noble house though it's not one of the ruling four. Here at the Academy, she falls under House Drakharrow. All of the nobles, regardless of their surnames, are aligned with one of the four houses and can trace their lineage back to one of the four bloodlines, however distantly."

"So you and Regan are related?" I snickered. "Strange customs you have."

He rolled his eyes. "Our betrothal was arranged for us when we were children. You wouldn't understand. Look, just try not to look any more foolish than you already do. You'll be embarrassing me enough already. It's bad enough you're linked to us now."

"How about you don't tell me what to do?"

He crossed his arms and took a step towards me. I held my ground. "You'd better get used to it, Pendragon. I'm the house leader. You answer to me. In every way."

I crossed my arms, mirroring him, and refusing to back away. "We'll see about that."

He chose to ignore me and continued his speech. "As I was saying, Bloodwing Academy is grouped by the four houses. And within each house are squads."

"Squads?"

"Units of up to fifty. You won't have to worry about them in your first year. It's a military tradition. In times of war, it meant that our generals were always prepared and ready with young leaders and support staff at hand to replace any who fell."

"And do you battle a great deal, your kingdom?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"You'll learn about that in your classes," he said, dismissively. "Now, within each squad are representatives from four subclasses. The highest ranking are warriors–usually vampire nobility but there have been rare exceptions. Beneath us are the support structure. Healers, alchemists, apothecaries. Those are self-explanatory. I assume you know what healers are."

When he looked at me as if I might be an idiot, I rolled my eyes.

"Great. Next are strategists. Very important. They're selected for their logic and foresight. They can visualize battles, help plan attacks, that kind of thing. The last class are scouts. They're also supposed to be able to use magic, but not all of them are mages. True arcanists are harder and harder to find."

"And where do I fit in?"

He snorted. "You don't. You're a fifth class. One that's extinct." He eyed me up and down. "Or at least, they were until today."

"I don't understand any of this. There are no dragons to ride so why the hell do I have to go to your stupid school?" I demanded.

"You'd have to take that up with my uncle, but it's what he wants. You're to join Regan and I."

He glared at me from gray eyes that were suddenly stormy. "You're the last person who belongs at this school as far as I'm concerned. You haven't even earned your way here like some of the other blightborn mortals. But what Viktor Drakharrow wants, he always gets. So I wouldn't suggest challenging him. Not unless you want to be drained faster than you can snap out a smart-mouthed comment."

He looked at me and shook his head contemptuously. "I don't know what kind of a curriculum they'll come up with for you exactly, but if I had to guess, I'd say you'll learn some of everything. Everything but healing, I suppose. Riders used to be second only to warriors. But that was when they had dragons." He shrugged. "So, you're right. You're pretty useless. I don't suppose you can fight?"

"Oh, I've got plenty of fight." I clenched my hands into fists, itching to let one fly.

He laughed in derision. "Sure. But do you have any skills?"

I said nothing, deciding that was just one of those things he'd have to find out for himself.

He shrugged. "Tomorrow I'll have Regan show you around. She'll show you the ropes."

I nearly choked. "Regan? The girl in the purple dress who looked like she wanted to stab my eyes out?"

He chuckled. "She'll do what I tell her. Don't worry, you'll see. She wants to please my uncle. You need each other. You'll be best friends in no time."

"I highly doubt that," I muttered.

But maybe I could hope. It wouldn't be so bad to have a friend in this horrid place.

Though I sincerely doubted the girl who thought I'd just stolen her mate from her–or at least planned to make her share him–was about to turn into my bosom buddy.

It seemed as if talking time was over.

Blake had resumed his long strides down the stone corridor. I followed him, refusing to ask that he slow down, forcing myself to keep up with his ridiculous pace.

He hurried me through the halls with furtive glances around the corners, as if he were worried someone might see us together.

From time to time, someone would shuffle past us–a fellow student with their arms full of books or a teacher holding a stack of parchment. If they dared to make eye contact, Blake would glare at them until they hurried on their way as fast as they could.

As our hasty tour continued, I caught a glimpse of the refectory. A huge stone hall with rows of wooden tables and benches.

"You'll eat there," Blake said briefly, before forcing us down another hall.

"What about you?" It was a jest, but to my surprise he paused.

"I can eat. We don't just drink blood, you know."

"I don't know," I pointed out. "I don't know anything about you monsters."

"You might want to stop thinking of us as monsters and try to see us as the rest of Sangratha does," he said, narrowing his eyes.

"And what's that? As gods? Heroes?"

He smirked. "Something along those lines."

"I don't understand," I snapped. "Don't you feed on your own people? You call us all blightborn and yet you need us, don't you? Where else do you get your blood from?"

He bristled. "You have no idea what our traditions are or how we feed. Some are..." He trailed off, then shook his head. "You know what? Never mind. I'm done trying to educate you."

"Some are what?" I demanded. "I'm interested. Truly."

"Sure you are. But you see, Pendragon, I've just realized something my dear Uncle Viktor forgot." He smiled coldly and suddenly leaned towards me, so close that he was inches from my face. I could smell him again. The hint of green apples. The bastard was a vampire yet he somehow smelled like an orchard. It made no sense.

"What's that?" I asked, my blood growing chill. I resisted the urge to take a step back.

"This school takes care of its own–and only its own. You're right. You aren't one of us and you never will be. I have nothing to worry about. You won't have time to shame me, because Bloodwing culls the weak. I doubt you'll make it through a single term here. No matter how much help you get, you'll fail and die and all I'll have to do is stand back and watch. You're worried about us having to mate? You think I'd actually pollute my bloodline with yours?" He tipped his head back and laughed. "Tomorrow you'll start to understand. But in the meantime–" He flipped a hand up and pointed. "Here's your door."

Before I could gather my thoughts to say a single word in retort, he was gone. Sweeping around the corner and out of sight, his black cloak whipping behind him like fucking bat wings.

I stared at the door he'd left me in front of. Heavy dark oak with an iron handle in the shape of a teardrop. Like the mark on my wrist.

For a moment, I hesitated, wondering if I was supposed to knock.

Then I squared my shoulders and lifted my hand, pushing the door open.

A blast of sound erupted from the room as the door squeaked on its hinges.

I flinched but forced myself to keep going, entering the noisy space and looking about.

While the stone hallway had been shadowy and dark, lit only by a few candles every few paces, this room was large, with cavernous high ceilings. The space burst with warmth and light. Countless candles glowed in iron sconces on the walls and hung from elaborate candelabras. The flickering light played off the deep sapphire blue hangings that were draped from the walls and which framed the tall arched windows that lined two broad walls. Diamond-shaped panes revealed a view of the sea and the setting sun outside.

Comfy plush armchairs, upholstered in midnight blue and silver tones, were arranged in cozy-looking clusters around the room. Thick, luxurious rugs covered the stone floors, their patterns a swirl of pale grays and blues.

A huge fire crackled in an enormous hearth, its mantle covered with stacks of books and dusty candlesticks dripping with melted wax. Another wall of the room was lined with bookshelves, where expensive-looking tomes stood alongside dusty scrolls.

In the center of the space stood a large, round table covered with parchment, quills, and inkpots.

Everywhere there were students.

Sitting in the cozy chairs reading, hunched around the table with their quills frantically scribbling, or lounging on couches around the fire chattering.

As I stepped fully inside the room, the conversations began to halt.

For the second time that day, every head in the room seemed to turn towards me.

My heart was pounding. I kept moving forward, my footsteps echoing on the stone in the sudden stillness.

I cursed silently. Just where the hell was I supposed to go from here?

"Medra! Medra Pendragon! Up here!"

My head jerked up as my name was called. A dark-haired girl stood high above on a stone staircase. As I looked up, she leaned over the balustrade and waved down at me.

She was petite and slender, with long silky black hair that had been meticulously woven into a perfect braid which hung down her back and was tied with a blue ribbon. She wore black-rimmed spectacles that made her dark brown eyes look slightly owlish. Her expression was calm and serene, as if she were unaware of the stir my appearance was causing below.

"Come on up," she called. "I'll show you around."

The girl wore a black cloak around her shoulders like Blake had, and beneath it a blue pullover sweater over a knee-length gray skirt There was something scholarly about her. I wondered which of the classes that Blake had mentioned she fit into.

I mounted the stairs towards her slowly, taking in the crest on the lapel of her cloak. Four intertwined dragons, stitched in gold, forced a circular sigil. There were words written around the edges.

"Sanguis et Flamma Floreant," I read aloud.

"It's the Bloodwing crest and motto," the girl explained. There was an intensity to her that suggested a thoughtful and determined mind. "It means ‘Let blood and flame flourish.' It's written in Classical Sangrathan. I suppose you're not familiar with it."

I was, but I let her continue. What she called Classical Sangrathan was simply the Old Tongue in Aercanum.

She touched a finger to the crest gently. "All of your clothes will be emblazoned with it. It's to mark all of the First Years. We don't have a house motto or crest yet, you see."

"I thought I was House Drakharrow," I said, flushing slightly.

The girl gave me a reassuring smile. "Not yet. You're not an official consort yet, though you are betrothed and for all intents and purposes, that's what you'll be considered. I know, it's complicated. None of us have been selected by houses, though we may have allegiances and ties to a certain house. That would be an honor though. House Drakharrow is a very powerful house with a very strong leader."

I managed to suppress the comment that rose to my lips as I thought of Viktor Drakharrow and his nephew.

"It must be very overwhelming," she said sympathetically, misinterpreting my expression. "Come, I'll try to explain more. Let me show you to your room."

She started walking along the stone balcony and for the first time I noticed it almost encircled the room below. There were four passages leading off it. I followed the girl down one and then watched as she pushed another door open and gestured.

"This will be your room." She stood back so I could step past her and I peered inside.

To my relief, the room was small but cozy... and there was only one bed. No bunking up with any of my fellow Bloodwing students. Thank the gods for that.

The room was nestled in an upper level of the tower, so some of the walls of the room were curved.

In the center stood a large four-poster bed of dark wood, draped in heavy, velvet curtains of deep blue. At the foot of the bed rested a large wooden trunk. Somewhere to put the belongings I didn't possess.

On the far side of the room stood a tall wardrobe of dark oak, the handles shaped like coiled dragon tails.

Three tall, arched windows looked out over the churning sea below, where waves crashed against the rocky cliffs. Near the windows stood a small wooden desk, just large enough for scribbling or studying.

It was simple but seemed comfortable enough. I supposed I should be thankful it wasn't a cell in the Black Keep dungeon.

"I'm Florence, by the way. Florence Shen. I'm one of the wardens for the First Year dormitory."

I eyed her cautiously. "Wardens?"

She laughed. "Don't worry. It's not as severe as it sounds. You're not in prison. It just means I help to shepherd new students around and to answer their questions."

I tried not to look too skeptical. After all, to me this was a prison. Though Florence certainly looked very pleased to be here.

"So you aren't a new student?" I asked.

"No, I am. But I've been here over part of the summer. My mother is one of the librarians. I'm more familiar with the school than most students, especially most blightborn. That's probably why they selected me."

"Then you aren't a vampire?" The next instant I felt like an idiot. "Of course, you aren't. Your hair."

She smiled. "Exactly. And no, I'm not. Though there are halfborns. I don't believe we have any in our cohort this year. None of the students in our dormitory are highbloods. Eventually, the best of us will be selected into one of the four houses and that's when we'll choose a specialty and eventually be assigned to squads."

I stared at her. "And you... want that to happen? You want to be part of a vampire house?"

"It's the highest honor in Sangratha," she said simply. "Just being here at Bloodwing is beyond my wildest dreams. It's a huge honor for my family. I mean, it's just my mother and I, but she's completely over the moon."

The girl seemed nice. She also seemed helpful.

She did not seem stark raving mad. But I supposed looks could be deceiving.

I decided telling her how completely absolutely insane her excitement seemed to me wouldn't be the best idea at the moment.

Not until I'd gotten to know her better.

With a sinking heart I realized something.

"No bath," I said, my voice sounding hollow with disappointment, even to me.

Florence perked up. "You actually have your own private bathing room just through here."

She pointed to a door I'd mistaken for a closet and I sighed in relief.

"Hot water?" I asked hopefully.

She nodded. "That's one of the nice things about being at Bloodwing. You don't even need to call upon a servant to fetch it. We have real copper plumbing. They've had it here for centuries. Highbloods are extraordinary. They really think of everything." She beamed.

"Everything that can benefit themselves, I'm sure," I couldn't help but say.

She looked a little taken aback.

"Anyhow, thanks for showing me around," I said quickly. "How did you know who I was?"

She gestured and I looked down at my hair.

"Oh. Right. I guess I stand out like a sore thumb now."

"A little. I mean, not in a bad way," she said hastily. "But you are fairly easy to spot."

"And all of the other students, down in the..."

"The common room," Florence provided. "We all share that space." I appreciated how she made sure to emphasize "all."

"Right. Down in the common room. They didn't look very pleased to see me."

"Well..." Florence chewed her lip as if buying the time to formulate a diplomatic response. "This all happened very fast. For you, I mean. Many students spend years preparing themselves before applying to Bloodwing. Most are never accepted."

"So everyone is just dying to be here?"

Her eyes widened. "Oh, no. I wouldn't say that." She glanced back into the hall then lowered her voice. "Every year there are a few who don't wish to come. Some students had no choice."

"What do you mean?" I said, narrowing my eyes. "They were forced to come here?"

"Some would have been taken by force if they refused the summons, yes," she confirmed reluctantly. "But their families would have been compensated, I'm sure. Sangratha does not believe in wasting precious talent."

"And what if they or their families resisted?" I pressed. "What then?"

She shook her head. "I'm not sure. I don't think it happens very often." She looked almost hopeful.

"Right," I muttered. "I'm sure the vampires were very gentle with the ones who didn't want to come."

But Florence either didn't hear me or was pretending she didn't. She'd crossed the room and now I watched as she flung open the doors of the wardrobe.

"As you can see, most of your clothes have been prepared. Not everything you need is here yet, but you should be able to find suitable attire for tomorrow's first day of class," she said with pride as she indicated a wardrobe filled with an assortment of clothes.

I saw cloaks, boots, tunics, dresses, trousers, and even a gown or two. Everything I could see bore the Bloodwing crest. It seemed I would be wearing the vampire school's brand daily.

"Is there anything particular I need to wear tomorrow?" I asked, figuring it couldn't hurt. I didn't want to show up to a riding lesson in a short skirt, after all.

Florence shook her head. "Tomorrow's Orientation Day. We'll attend a few classes, and then there will be a welcome speech from the headmaster at the end of the day. You can wear anything you please. I don't have your schedule yet, but it should be delivered here in the morning."

She stifled a yawn. "Pardon me, Medra. It's getting late and it's been a long day. If you don't need anything else, I think I'll turn in."

I thought of how my day had begun. Had it even been properly morning when I found myself on that heap of corpses? And now look at how it was ending.

At least there would be a bath.

"Of course," I said quickly. "Thank you for showing me around. Do you mind if I tag along with you tomorrow? This school seems huge and I haven't quite gotten my bearings yet."

"You'd have been welcome to," Florence said, beaming again. "But you won't need my guidance. I've been informed that Regan Pansera herself is coming to pick you up in the morning and help you get through the first day of class. What an honor! She's a very popular student. Being seen with her will be a huge boon."

I planted a weak smile on my face. "Yes. Indeed."

When Florence was gone, I flopped down on my new blue-velvet bed.

None of this felt real.

If I accepted that this was real, then it meant I was alive. I was betrothed. I was a hostage of vampires. And I was a student.

I gave a snort of laughter. I wasn't sure which one of those things was more ridiculous.

I had never attended school. There were schools back home, in my city of Camelot, of course. But as a royal, I'd only had private tutors.

As for marriage? Back in Camelot, I'd been too young for it to even be talked about. Not to mention the fact that my kingdom had been in the midst of a war. But I had no doubt I'd have been permitted to choose my own partner, my own path.

I wondered if the war had ended with my death.

I tried to imagine my family back in Aercanum. My aunt, Morgan, and her husband, Draven. Had my uncle, Kaye, become king? What were they doing right now? Did they miss me?

I sat up abruptly, shoving aside the painful ache in my chest.

There was no point in thinking about the family I'd left behind. I knew I'd never see any of them again.

I breathed in deeply, then coughed. Florence Shen had been too polite to mention how badly I stank.

No more melancholy thoughts. There was a bathing chamber and I planned to use it.

The tub was black marble and slippery as hell. But when it was full and I'd successfully managed to get into it without breaking my neck, I sighed with bliss as the hot water soaked into my tired body.

I closed my eyes, running through the events of the day one more time.

I was in a new world.

Somehow, I didn't think there would be any going back to Aercanum, as much as I longed to return.

Was that the price I had paid? I'd gained a new life but been forced to give up my old one. And everyone and everything I'd loved was in the past.

I was sure many people would kill for a second chance like the one I'd received. But I couldn't say I was completely grateful.

Not when I considered the world where I'd wound up.

A world where vampires weren't just the stuff of legend.

No, Blake Drakharrow was an absolute ass. But he was absolutely flesh and blood.

He and his ilk were horrible. But I couldn't deny how powerful they seemed to be.

This entire world seemed to cater to them. Florence seemed ready to almost worship them. She was happy to be here and she thought nothing of the fact that the vampires might have involuntarily conscripted mortals to be here.

I'd forgotten to ask Florence about the burned out village where Blake had found me. What had happened to it? Why did no one seem to care?

I thought of what the highblood vampires had said about me. That I had the markings of a rider. A dragon rider.

Now that might be the most ludicrous part of all of this. They'd betrothed me to one of their princes because my blood was clearly valuable. And yet they had no actual dragons. Nothing for me to ride. So what was the point?

Unless there was more to my blood than I knew. More than they'd said.

But without another dragon rider to ask, I had no idea how I was going to find out.

I wondered what the dragon riders had been like. What had they been capable of? What had their dragons been like?

And most importantly, why had they all died out?

Of course, there was always the chance this was a mistake. The traits the vampires saw as marking me as a rider in this world, simply marked me as half-fae in Aercanum. Did that mean any fae from Aercanum would be considered a dragon rider here in Sangratha?

Or did it mean I was a fraud? Not someone with rider blood at all?

I supposed it didn't really matter. Even if I wasn't what they thought I was, how would they ever find out? There were no dragons to test me with.

All I had to do was try to fit in. Do as I was told. Go to my classes. Pretend I was a docile little lamb like Florence.

All the while, I'd be scheming to find a way out of here.

There was no point simply diving out a window. I needed to know my enemy first. If I'd been given a second chance at life, well, then I guessed I should make the best of it and actually try to form a real life once I left here. And that meant finding out more about this land and its people. There had to be other kingdoms. Maybe somewhere in the world was a place without vampires.

A place I could be free.

My eyes were closing. It was time to acknowledge how exhausted I really was.

In Aercanum, I'd spent every ounce of power I'd had before imploding like a star.

Then I'd woken up here, drained and tired. I'd been forced to march for miles before standing in a hall of judgment only to be led on a school tour.

It was time to rest.

I pulled myself out of the marble tub before I could fall asleep and accidentally drown, wrapped myself in one of the huge fluffy towels that were stacked on a small table, and shuffled back into the bedroom.

Dressing myself in a soft blue cotton nightset, I climbed up onto the bed.

The ceiling had been painted a rich dark blue and an overlay of little silver stars had been added to it. It was lovely, really. And totally unexpected in this place.

I stared up at it for a while, thinking about my next move and yawning repeatedly.

I was hungry. But the thought of braving the common room or making my way all the way back to the refectory was not appealing. I decided I could make it until morning. More motivation to get up on time. Speaking of which...

I fumbled around the bedside table until I found a timepiece and set it for six. That should be early enough.

Then I lay back on the bed, not even bothering to pull back the covers, and let my eyes fall closed for the last time that day.