Page 30 of Bound to Three Fae Beasts

Mr. Phineas was one of the teachers I didn’t have much to do with. It was his job to teach the low-born fae who’d come to the Academy court etiquette. How to comport themselves, what unspoken rules there were when interacting with the high fae, and other such things. Since I was once the heir of my court, I’d been trained to know all of that from birth.

It also meant that when Mr. Phineas wanted to hold a supplemental etiquette class meant to mimic a high-society function, the high fae were all invited in official roles. The event was for first-year students only, held in the great hall.

I stood with Gareth and Seb as usual, bored as hell as the low-born students were brought in. Formal attire had been provided for the occasion. I was dressed in all black, which was a suitable alternative to wearing my court’s colors. Since I was technically no longer part of my court, it would have been highly offensive to wear them. Gareth had chosen to wear black, too, in solidarity, but Seb wore Court Laurel’s colors proudly.

As was his right. I wasn’t going to begrudge him showing off that he was still the valued heir of his house. Our rivalry was based more on court politics than anything else, though I also knew our friendship was based just as much on them. Gareth and I had been friends first, and Seb had presented the idea that he start spending time with us as a means to start developing alliances that would serve us when they became the heads of their courts.

Seb shifted on the spot and I had to fight the urge to smile. Was it coincidence that it was the same time that Azriel Jones entered the hall? My amusement faded quickly. I still wasn’t sure what Seb’s interest in her stemmed from. All I knew was that he locked onto her the moment she entered a room, even when he pretended otherwise.

That he feigned disinterest in Azriel when Flora was around told me that it wasn’t entirely hostile.

Azriel was dressed in a dark gray dress. It was a flattering fit on her, one that emphasized her shape. The skirt brushed the floor, and the jeweled, off-the-shoulder neckline brought attention to her long neck. She’d put her hair up in a modest bun, befitting her station, and it was secured by two jeweled combs. The combs were in Court Alegro’s colors. Clearly, Freta’s subtle way of establishing claim on her.

Freta was in attendance, too, of course. She seemed as uncomfortable standing with the rest of the high-born as I was.

At least you weren’t disowned, I thought toward her, then decided to just ignore them both.

After the low-born students had bowed and greeted us, we bowed in return. As it was meant to mimic a high-class function, several of the low-born students from the second year came into the room then, dressed in the simple but elegant clothing of servants. They passed our contact cards out. These functions served as a means to show off a host’s prowess in pairing people who had common interests, whether that be political or otherwise.

I took my card and glanced at the name, only for shock to ripple through me. Azriel Jones. I quickly angled it away from Seb, but unfortunately for me, Gareth saw it.

“Really? What does Phineas think you’ve got in commons with her?” he asked, leaning over. A wicked grin split his face. “Hey, Seb. Check out who Jasper’s paired with.”

I kept my scowl off my face as Seb glanced over. When I showed him the name, he tensed. His eyes started to narrow, but then he scoffed and turned away.

“Like I care. Though I do wonder why the teachers keep throwing her in our path.”

I folded the card into my pocket and sighed internally. It was rude for a guest to refuse to speak with their assigned partner for the evening, and we were meant to be teaching etiquette. Though I wanted to keep my distance from the girl who had managed to be unlucky enough to be attached to Seb, I couldn’t just ignore her.

I ignored Seb and Gareth as they sought out their low-born partners. Most of these students looked mildly terrified, some of them already quaking in their boots. As the high-born introduced themselves to their partners, I sought out Azriel.

She watched me from the corner of her eye, keeping herself otherwise the picture of subservient grace. Head bowed slightly, hands clasped in front of her. Whoever got the highest marks in tonight’s class would be excused from the next etiquette class, so I imagined that was why she was playing the role so well.

“Hello,” I greeted when I came to a stop before her. “I am your escort for tonight.”

Azriel lifted her eyes to mine. “You?”

Nearby, Phineas scowled and made a note on his clipboard. Azriel cleared her throat and curtsied. “I mean, thank you for escorting me.”

“I am Lord Jasper of Court Vespa,” I continued in the formal way. “I believe we have met before.”

“Azriel Jones, my lord,” she muttered, sounding petulant.

Oh, she was not going to win any prizes tonight. I offered her my arm, continuing to keep my expression blank. We had not interacted since I found her in the Vespa Room. I had briefly been concerned she would try to spread my deformity around the campus, but nothing had changed.

The high-born all knew already. How could they not? When the heir of a court was cursed with a wrong beast, it was something that their spies would have reported instantly. The low-born students might think it made me less dangerous to them, but none of them had showed any difference in the way they reacted to me, either.

Phineas moved on, and Azriel brushed a stray curl behind her ear. The high-born women in the room had their hair in curls down their backs or done up in elaborate styles. Her simple bun was yet another visual difference in rank.

“I don’t think anyone is going to enjoy themselves at this party,” Azriel mentioned, looking around, then frowned at me. “I thought we were supposed to be paired with someone with whom we might have a mutually beneficial relationship.”

“It’s not a party, it’s an event. And as for what is mutually beneficial, I can think of a few things we could do for each other.” I offered her my arm as any gentleman would. Since she was low-born, she had no choice but accept. The scowl on her face as she slid her arm into mine would dock her another few points, I was sure.

“Let’s step out on the terrace where we can have a little more privacy, shall we?” I asked.

Azriel stiffened. “Just what sort of benefits do you think I’m going to provide?”

Her brown eyes flashed. The color was lovely, though overshadowed by how unremarkable she was in general appearance. Not that she wasn’t pretty, but she was only pretty. A daisy was easily overlooked when put in a garden of orchids and roses, but there would always be someone whose favorite was the daisy.