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“They aren’t worthy of her knowledge. She knows she protects them when she patrols. She has no desire tointeractwith them.”

“I can’t believe you’re still so blind.”

“Let us not rake the coals over old fires Salem,” Leonid’s voice was firm, devoid of humour.

“Fine. We’ll teach her what she is lacking.” At Leonid’s sharp gaze, Salem continued, “About Court and dressing for Court. How did she conduct herself in front of the Great Council?”

“With perfection.”

“They never stayed longer than the Trial, did they?” Salem asked sardonically.

“I did not invite them to, no.”

“By the Ancients, you’re the only being in this world that would get away with that,” Salem looked at him in admiration. “Pity you never taught me that trick.”

“I did, you just weren’t listening,” Leonid stood. “Let us go find my daughter. She will need to rest soon.”

“My daughter, Leonid,” Salem corrected softly, he felt their momentary truce slip away when Leonid glanced at him and smirked, before walking out of the room. “Bloody Vampyre hasn’t changed at all,” Salem muttered as he followed. He didn’t need to see Leonid to know that he would have heard him, or that he would probably be amused.

* * *

Tegan watchedthe cook watch her, as Blythe prepared alightmeal for her, which seemed to be a full roast dinner. Sloane was disgruntled because Blythe had refused his request for a roast beef sandwich, saying that Tegan needed it all. Tegan had tried to tell her she didn’t and that’s when the distrust from the cook had begun. Added to the fact that she had refused potatoes and gravy, the staring had started not long after. As if she was a puzzle for Blythe to solve, she kept running her eyes over Tegan as if bylookingat her, she would find her deformity for disliking potatoes. Blythe knew it wasn’t carbs Tegan was objecting to, as she had accepted the bread roll that she had handed to her,as a test no doubt,Tegan mused.

“Tegan? You were going to tell us about your schedule?” Marcus reminded her.

Breaking the stare-off with Blythe as she stayed close to her steaming pots, Tegan turned to Marcus and Sloane. “Yes, of course. What did you want to know?”

“Describe your typical day?” Marcus suggested.

“I get up at four-thirty, I run my laps for forty-five minutes, at five-fifteen Martha has a light breakfast ready for me. I eat breakfast from five-fifteen until five-thirty. At five-thirty, we have weapons training until eight.” Tegan took a bite of her bread roll. “At eight, I shower. At eight-fifteen I have breakfast, eggs, bacon, avocado. At eight forty-five, we do weapons history, every day is different. Father works with me for two hours on the weapon of the day. At ten forty-five, we have tea.” Tegan ate more of her bread roll. “At eleven I have martial arts training. We train for two hours. At one we have lunch. At two I study in the library for two hours.”

“What do you study?” Marcus asked softly.

“Wars. Drakyhn. Supernatural and sometimes if I have been lax in my training, the Ancients.” Tegan sighed. “I find the Ancients tedious reading material,” Tegan confessed softly. Sloane snorted in agreement and she smiled at him.

“That takes two hours?” Marcus asked. “So… from four?”

“From four we train until six. At six, I have free time until dinner. Dinner is at six-thirty, so I usually shower and relax. Dinner is usually an hour and then after dinner I spend in Reflection until nine. At nine, I do a perimeter check and go on patrol.”

“How long do you patrol for?” Marcus asked.

“Three to four hours, depending on how far I have gone,” Tegan shrugged.

“When do you sleep?” Sloane asked as Blythe placed a plate of food in front of Tegan. He immediately reached over and took a carrot off her plate, Tegan looked at him in question.

“When I get home from patrol. Do not do that again.” Her eyes flicked to her plate.

“So, say you are home for one in the morning,” Marcus paused waiting for Tegan to look at him, “Your morning starts still at four-thirty?”

“Of course,” Tegan cut into her beef and ate her meal enthusiastically.

“How many times a week do you have this schedule?” Sloane asked, reaching out for more food, he yelped when Tegan’s knife narrowly missed his fingers.

“I told you, donotdo that.”

“Sorry,” Sloane mumbled as he glanced at Marcus.

“Tegan?” Marcus asked. “How often do you have that schedule?”


Tags: Eve L. Mitchell Akrhyn Paranormal