Page 11 of Revenge

I sat in the tuck shop, nursing a cup of coffee. Blake’s offer left me with a mix of conflicting feelings. The triumph of finally getting their attention was overshadowed by disgust. He’d only approached me after learning that Sergei had proposed. The usual anger that stuck in my craw whenever I thought of the triumvirate rose, and I tried to push it down when the server gave me a funny look for scowling into my teacup. I focused instead on making my plan come together.

To break the triumvirate, I needed to do it from the inside. But the invitation left a taste in my mouth more bitter than the coffee. I added a spoon of sugar to my drink and took another sip.

A couple of third years entered the shop, and the boy asked the girl what he could get her to drink. From the blush that rose on both their cheeks and her nervous answer, I guessed they were on a first date. Despite the fact the two had probably called me trollop at some time, I hoped things would work out okay for them. They certainly seemed happy with each other as they sat at a table towards the back of the room. But looks could be deceiving.

The triumvirate were a trojan horse, dressed up in ribbons and pretty promises but inside was a trio of boys who would stick the knife through my back. Again. They sought to take away what they thought was a promising relationship and leave me distraught, just as I had been last term.

* * *

The next day, I took a stroll through the campus and headed toward International House. On the flowerbeds outside the building grew a clump of snowdrops through the frost, and I pulled out my cameraphone to take a picture.

“Look who it is,” said a nasal voice. “The trollop.”

I glared up. Edward and Patricia stood over me. My face twisted into a mask of annoyance. “What do you want?”

“To welcome you back to Mercia Academy, of course.” Patricia wrapped both arms around Edward’s bicep. “We should arrange a welcoming party. It’s only fair, after all the effort we went to send her off.”

My throat thickened, and I met Edward’s wintry blue eyes. He stared down his perfect, straight nose at me, lips thinned into a grim line. Mahogany hair hung loose around his face, softening his stern features. Wasn’t framing me for the kidnapping enough for him? All this time, I’d thought Charlotte had arranged the gauntlet with Mr. Carbuncle.

Edward’s brows lowered into a scowl. “That was not my doing.”

“No, but you didn’t object,” Patricia murmured.

He pulled his arm out of her grasp and stepped away. “Nobody could have guessed you would take your spite so far.”

I straightened and placed the smartphone back in my pocket. Facing Edward like this was bad enough, but hearing this poor excuse for a doppelgänger brag about humiliating me was more than I could stand. “Excuse me, while I get some fresh air.”

Patricia spluttered. “We’re outside, you trollop. Are you trying to say I stink? Because there’s only one person around here who—”

“You’re tiresome,” Edward snapped.

She reared back. “What?”

I continued toward International House, leaving them to argue amongst themselves. If Edward wanted to approach me, he could do so without a bitchy sycophant hanging off his arm like an overgrown leech. My feet skidded over the frost, so I slowed my steps, making sure to study the building that had fallen to disrepute. The strains of a cheesy techno tune drowned out Patricia’s screechy voice, but it was clear from the pitch that she was unhappy about whatever he’d said to her.

“Emilia!” said Edward from several feet away.

I stopped and gazed into a window, where a group of smoking students sat in a room, watching television. “What?”

“I wanted to apologize for Patricia,” he said.

“For what she said to me, the little send-off she organized last term, or her entire existence?”

His sapphire blue eyes twinkled, and his full lips quirked into a smile. “All of it, really.”

“I find that hard to believe, since she’s your girlfriend.”

“Was.” He shook his head. “It was never serious between us. She was just…”

“Convenient?” I placed my hands on my hips.

He turned his head. “I wouldn’t put it quite so callously.” After a moment’s pause, he said, “Have you made your decision yet about what Blake proposed?”

“The answer is no.” I headed back toward Elder House, stomping so hard, the ice crushed beneath my loafers. “I’m happy with Sergei. A musician who earns money from playing the piano isn’t likely to frame me for his crimes.”

Edward walked at my side with a silence that stretched so long, it made my stomach writhe with nerves. Tiny shards of ice blew in the wind, freezing the top layer of my skin. If I agreed to go back to them so quickly, they would be suspicious. I had to put up some resistance for them to overcome, so it would feel like they had the upper hand.

“Are you sure about this fellow?” he said at last. “What do you really know about him?”