“I’ll send a messenger with your punishment in the morning.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Not in the slightest.” He leans back, the chair creaking under his weight. “The rules apply just as much to you, Valkyrie, as everyone else.”
I bite back a retort and turn on my heel, headed for the door. Just before I get there, he adds, “All of this can stop whenever you want it to, you know that, right?”
I pause, my fingers on the doorknob. Without facing him, I say, “I’m not handing over the key.”
“As long as you understand your options.”
An image flashes in my mind. It’s fast and furious and begins with me running across the room, leaping over the desk and wrapping my hands around Roland’s throat.
Not yet.
The Immortals aren’t ready. I’m not ready.
I open the door and walk through, slamming it behind me. I’m not afraid of a little punishment, but I am afraid of those two starting the apocalypse.
12
Hildi
The knock comes early, and loud, waking both me and Elizabeth.
“What’s that?” she asks, rubbing her eyes. It’s still dark outside.
“I’m pretty sure it’s for me.”
I toss back the covers and climb out of bed. In the hall is a student, looking nervous. He hands me a folded sheet of paper.
“Report to the maid’s quarters. Ten minutes.”
I shut the door and stare at the paper.
“What does it say?”
I crumple the paper and toss it on the floor. “That I’m supposed to go to the maid’s quarters. I don’t even know where that is.”
“Second floor, near the medieval history room.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I pay attention to something other than hot Immortals.” She burrows underneath the covers. “I’d wear something comfortable.”
I narrow my eyes at my roommate. “Have you ever been in trouble before?”
She bats her eye lashes innocently. “Nope, but I’d just be prepared for anything. The Immortals are right. Victorine is terrible.”
I tug on what I hope is a suitable outfit, along with the boots I like to wear during training. Three minutes have passed. It’s so early, everyone in school is still asleep. I braid my hair on my way down the long staircase and pick up speed to get to the hallway where medieval history is held. I glance in the room and on the board is a design of a wheel with spokes sticking out.
Turning the corner, I see the open door to a storage closet.
“Hello?” I call, tapping on the door.
A slight, willowy woman looks up from a cleaning cart. It’s filled with supplies; bottles of cleaners, towels, toilet paper, sponges, and brushes.
“I was sent down here,” I say, realizing there are other women in the room. They have the same body shape and round faces. They wear the same outfit, a black skirt and blouse. All watch me warily. “For punishment.”