+"Are you going to eat that?"
I looked up from my third helping of honey-glazed roast chicken to find Pearl staring at the buttered roll on the edge of my tray. Her own plate was half-empty, picked at more than eaten.
"Yes," I said, pulling the tray closer protectively. "I'm going to eat everything on this tray, and then I'm going back for dessert."
Des snorted into his soup. "I've never seen anyone appreciate dining hall food this much."
"That's because you've never understood food the way I do," I said, tearing into the roll. It was still warm, the butter melting into the soft bread, and I had to suppress a very undignified sound of satisfaction. "This place has honey butter. Honey butter, Des. And the chicken has actual seasoning. I'm pretty sure I saw fresh herbs."
"You're weird," Pearl said, but she was smiling.
"I'm practical," I corrected, reaching for the roasted vegetables. They were caramelized perfectly, sweet and savory at the same time. Whoever ran the kitchens here deserved a raise. Or a medal. Possibly both.
"I still can't believe assessments are tomorrow," Pearl said, pushing her food around her plate anxiously. "I barely slept last night thinking about it."
"You'll be fine," Des said, though he didn't sound entirely convinced. "We all will."
I was about to respond when I felt it—that prickle of attention that meant someone was watching. I looked up and immediately regretted it.
A girl was standing beside our table, and everything about her screamed nobility. Perfect posture, perfect hair swept into an elaborate braid, perfect uniform without a single wrinkle. Behind her stood two other girls, clearly her entourage, wearing matching expressions of disdain.
"How... quaint," the girl said, her voice carrying a particular tone that made every word sound like an insult. Her eyes swept over our table, lingering on my very full tray. "I didn't realize the dining hall had become a charity kitchen. Tell me, do they let just anyone eat here now?"
Pearl's fork clattered against her plate. Des went very still.
I took another bite of chicken, chewing slowly. It really was excellent chicken.
"I'm talking to you," the girl said, her voice sharpening. She was looking directly at me now, and I could see the calculation in her eyes. She'd already sized me up completely; plain uniform, no family crest, eating like I'd never seen food before.
Commoner, her expression said. Beneath notice.
"You lack manners," she continued. "Weren't you taught how to properly behave in front of nobility? Don't you have any idea who I am?"
I swallowed, set down my fork with deliberate care, and looked up at her. My face remained perfectly blank, neutral, giving her absolutely nothing.
"Serena Carver," she said, as if her name should mean something. "Daughter of House Carver, one of the four leading families of the Kingdom of Astra."
She paused, clearly expecting a reaction.
When I didn't give her one, her perfect smile tightened.
"Perhaps you've heard of us? Though I suppose commoners don't concern themselves with such things."
I picked up my fork again and speared a piece of roasted carrot.
"Did you just..." Serena's voice pitched higher. "I am speaking to you."
"I know," I said, and took another bite.
The silence that followed was delicious. More delicious than the chicken even, and that was saying something.
Serena's face flushed pink, then red.
"You should learn your place," she said, her voice dropping to something cold and sharp. "This academy has a hierarchy for a reason. People like you should remember that people like me—"
"Have excellent timing," I interrupted, reaching for my water glass. "I was just about to get dessert. Excuse me."
I stood, picked up my tray, and walked past her toward the dessert station. Behind me, I heard Pearl's sharp inhale and one of Serena's friends making an outraged sound.
The dessert table was a masterpiece.
Rows of pastries gleamed under soft light reminding me of home. Golden tarts, sugar-dusted rolls, delicate layered cakes. But the chocolate cake caught my attention immediately. Dark, rich, slightly glossy on top, like it knew exactly how good it was.
I slid my tray onto the counter and took my time selecting the perfect slice. Not too small and not too large. Just right.
The server placed it gently on my plate, the fork sinking slightly into the soft surface as I picked it up. Fudgy center. Promising.
I lingered a little longer than necessary, pretending to consider other options while subtly glancing back.
As expected, Serena stood rigidly where I'd left her, her expression filled with humiliation. Her friends leaned in, whispering urgently. A few nearby students had started watching.
Good.
After another moment, Serena turned sharply, her braid swinging like a weapon, and stalked out of the hall with her entourage trailing behind her.
Problem solved.
I picked up my fork and headed back to our table.
"That was insane," Des whispered, his fingers drumming anxiously against the table. "Do you know who that was? That was Serena Carver. Her family is one of the four most powerful houses in the kingdom. Pearl's been writing about them in her notes since orientation. And you just—you just walked away from her. Mid-sentence."
"She was being rude," I said, cutting into the cake. It was rich, chocolatey, with a perfectly soft center. I could tell someone had actually cared about the baking process. My mother would have appreciated this.
Pearl leaned forward, her voice low but urgent. "Amara, she's not just rude, she's dangerous. People like her don't forget things like this. You basically humiliated her in public."
"She is nobody to me," I said simply, taking a bite of cake. "Why would I care what she thinks?"
"Because she can make your life difficult?" Pearl shot back. "Because she has connections and power and... "
"And I have cake," I interrupted. "Which is significantly more useful to me right now."
Des made a strangled sound that might have been a laugh or a cry of despair. "You're going to get us all expelled."
"Unlikely," I said. "Serena's upset, but she's not going to report me for ignoring her in the dining hall. That would make her look petty. And people like her care very much about how they look."
I took another bite.
"Besides, tomorrow's assessments. She'll be too busy worrying about her own performance to bother with me."
Pearl exchanged a look with Des, the same look Raina had given me earlier; the kind of look that said they both thought I was either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.
Possibly both.
"You're weird," Pearl said finally, returning to her notebook.
"I'm practical," I corrected. "And this cake is excellent. You should both try it."
Des shook his head, but he was smiling despite himself.
That was the thing about having friends like Pearl and Des... they worried about all the things I didn't, and I didn't worry about the things that would have paralyzed them.
I know people like Serena Carver: they thrived on reactions. On fear, deference, submission. They needed you to acknowledge their power, to bow and scrape and play the game.
I didn't play games I didn't care about winning.
Could Serena make my life difficult? Probably. Did I care? Not particularly. I had enough on my plate without adding "noble drama" to the list.
Besides, I knew something Serena didn't.
I knew exactly how powerful I was. I knew that if I wanted to, I could wipe that perfect smile off her face without lifting a finger. I could reshape the hierarchy of this entire academy with a single spell.
But I wouldn't.
Because that would draw attention. And attention was the one thing I absolutely could not afford.
So let Serena Carver think I was just another clueless commoner. Let her look down on me from her pedestal. It didn't change the truth.