Over the next hour, the two suffragettes and Valere made me increasingly grateful that as a young man trapped at West Ridge for most of the year, I need not attend on any ladies. Whether this was some deformity caused by my sinful desires or yet another failure of mine, I only knew I was glad I needn’t attend balls, dance with women, or listen to the grave injustices that my sex perpetrated against them as I now had to do.

My first mistake had been to mention marriage. After all, a future guildsman such as Dominic was a prime catch. But whether or not the potential groomsman was Dominic, they fervently lectured me on the comparisons of marriage with prostitution. Le Chasseur may have bid us do no more than marry and breed, but they claimed since women must rely on marriage to support themselves with their husband’s estate, they might as well be prostitutes.

I quickly changed the subject before the waiter booted us from the table for all our sinful talk.

Valere was no help, spending most of his time staring out the window and ignoring his tea. I should have predicted this from the outset. He refused to answer even the most direct question. Which left me to carry the conversation and demonstrate just how little I knew about Valere.

To a question on Valere’s favourite subjects, I stumbled with, “Er, well, we all love Practicum. We actually use the knowledge they’re teaching us.”

“Shouldn’t you be using all the knowledge they teach you anyway?” Mademoiselle Alpha, whose name I learned was Katrina Lowell, asked.

“Er, yes.”

Mademoiselle Alpha shook her head. “What a waste of an education. If I had the chance…”

“But you attended a finishing school?” I then felt the intense desire to transfigure into an ostrich again as both suffragettes glared at me. “I mean, aren’t finishing schools just terrible?”

“I had to attend one,” Mademoiselle Clara said. “It made me realise just how broken our society is. You are learning history and sorcery and languages.” Only one of which Fallion actually valued. “What was I learning? How to curtsy. How to make polite conversation.”

That lesson hadn’t sunk in very well, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. I grimaced. That wasn’t fair. Of course Mademoiselle Alpha and Mademoiselle Clara would both act so sharply if others treated them as Dominic had, or worse. Offering to buy something for a lady, indeed.

“Do you know what the greatest debate at that school was?”

“Completely disgraceful,” was Mademoiselle Alpha’s contribution.

I swallowed. “Er, whether a low neck collar is acceptable if accompanied by a choker?”

Mademoiselle Alpha laughed, and Mademoiselle Clara cracked a smile. “How sad that might actually be true. But no, the greatest debate was whether the school should teach us to read. We’ll only read romance novels, they said, and no proper lady reads novels.”

“I read novels.” Mademoiselle Alpha waved her cigarette. “They’re so much more satisfying than a real man.”

I sputtered, my ears heating up. What kind of conversation was this? Even Valere had turned to pay attention.

Mademoiselle Clara continued, “Never mind there’s poetry, debate, politics, history…”

“A real lady does not read at all,” Mademoiselle Alpha said. “She has a husband who tells her what to think, if at all. Really, all she needs to know is to put her legs—”

I hurried to interrupt. “But scripture! All Fallion should be well versed in scripture.”

“Which won the debate in the end,” Mademoiselle Clara said. “Although there was a strong argument that even reading scripture was useless, without a man to tell us what it means.”

“It would just confuse us,” Mademoiselle Alpha added.

“That’s disgraceful. You seem very capable to me.” I would not wish to enter an official debate with either of them. Even Dominic’s poisonous glare paled in comparison.

Both melted with a little smile. I tensed, ready to thrust my chair away should they attack. Dominic should appreciate how quick an escape he had made.

But Mademoiselle Alpha’s eyes flickered to the window. “Oh drat, it’s nearly sundown.”

I asked, “May we escort you home?”

That earned me a raised brow. “Thank you, but no. We’ll be quite fine. We’re at the boarding house just down the road.”

I almost asked why they didn’t live with their families, but the answer was obvious, and likely to end in another lecture. Their families were ashamed of them, and Mademoiselle Clara and Mademoiselle Alpha were ashamed of being thrust into society’s expectations. Oh dear, now I was starting to sound like them.

“If only I could find suitable employment,” Mademoiselle Clara said quietly, more to herself. Mademoiselle Alpha granted her a soft look.

“You could become a governess,” I suggested.

“And teach innocent little girls my wicked ways?”

“Er… wouldn’t that be a good thing?”

They both laughed. “Oh, you’re a keeper,” Mademoiselle Alpha said.

Mademoiselle Clara stood without waiting for either Valere or I to help with her chair. Mademoiselle Alpha did the same, and I hurried to my feet. “Please do send your card around,” Clara said, but for some strange reason, she looked at me while she said it, not Valere.

I attempted to discretely settle the bill, but Mademoiselle Alpha beat me to it, and we all left the cafe for the emptying street. They departed with friendly smiles.

Valere had yet to say a word since his impassioned speech.

“You know, you’re the one who bartered your time, not me,” I said.

Valere glanced at me.

“You could have said something.”

“Time, yes, not conversation.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Do you really expect them to keep their promise after that?”

“Yes.”

Yes, just yes.

“You seemed to enjoy yourself,” Valere said.

I drew myself taller. Perhaps Valere really hadn’t understood my attraction in the shower, or had this conversation simply convinced him otherwise? “Yes. Although I’m not sure I’d send my card around for round two.”

Valere looked down the street, either avoiding me, or searching for Dominic. “You never do keep your promises.”

What? “Well, I suppose I must. They seem capable of drawing and quartering me if I don’t. Although I’ll be very busy with our project. Speaking of which…”

Valere started striding down the road, and not in West Ridge’s direction but toward the market square, even though the sky had turned bloody and the clock tower told good boys and girls to attend to their families and dinner.

I hurried after him. “Do you have any ideas?”

“The book shoppe,” Valere said.

“For our thesis project. Or, do you mean, you wish to look at the theological book shoppe for inspiration?”

“No.”

No, just no.

I hurried to keep up to his long strides. “We should be heading back to West Ridge. And we need to get our thesis figured out.”

“Then go.”

“I… Valere!” If he continued onto the main square, I really would have to let him go. With my luck, my mother would look out of the townhouse’s front window and spot me wandering around town at dusk instead of safe at West Ridge. How long could I follow him?

Valere turned onto an intersecting, narrow street. Valere’s loss, if he was trying to turn me off.

I caught up with him again, but he didn’t so much as flicker his eyes in my direction. “I’ve been reading about past projects. Come on, let’s return to West Ridge and discuss this, before the murderers and thieves come out.”

“They’re already out.”

“Well, I know they are. It was daylight when…”

“When?”

Idiot, I hissed at myself mentally, but at least I had his attention. “… when the clothing thieves are out.”

“Clothing thieves?”

“They… follow unescorted children to steal their school uniforms.”

Valere furrowed his brow. “They stole your clothes.”

“No! I mean, yes, only once. To a friend.” I hung my head. Could this day get any more humiliating?

My mother had never recovered from the shock. She’d been ill at the time and since we had still lived in Tutelle where my grammar school was so close, I’d been given the responsibility of walking the three blocks by myself. My first of so many failures as a son. I’d returned home stark naked except for the tears.

Whatever good health my mother had possessed had been destroyed at the sight of me. Her mind had fractured, and the only comfort I could provide her was to let her watch over me.

Valere didn’t acknowledge his victory, but continued swiftly along the road, the manure seeming to jump out of the way of his footsteps, while I had to carefully step over the refuse.

What spell was he wearing? Oh, right, a little virtue called grace.

I glanced around the familiar buildings. “Where are we going?”

I expected him to give me one of Vespasian’s usual looks, the one sharing his exasperation that I failed to keep up with him, but Valere simply said, “The book shoppe.”

“Which book shoppe?” I asked. “All the theological shoppes are by the temple.”

As Valere should well know.

“It doesn’t have a name,” he said.

“Doesn’t… All shoppes have names. How else will you find them?”

Valere must have tired of our conversation, for he didn’t reply. Apparently, this one did not. Or perhaps he didn’t reply because we’d reached it. Valere stepped up to the freshly painted door. The shoppe was an unassuming brick place, the forest green adornments matching the door, with no letters painted at all.

The only sign at all that the place was a book shoppe was through the large paned windows, which, with the gas lamps illuminating the insides, showed the rows of shelves. How anyone knew in the daylight, when one couldn’t peer inside the window, was beyond me.

The door opened, forcing Valere to step back, to reveal Ashley Hayworthy. For his part, Ashley appeared startled, before offering a sheepish smile. “Evening, Valere, Daniel.”

I returned the greeting, but Valere remained silent. I glanced at him, brow raised. They were roommates, weren’t they? Ashley, at least, seemed to have grown used to Valere, and ignored the cold shoulder.

“I was just…” Ashley waved his hand.

“Getting books?” I finished.

“Er, rather, yes,” he said. “The bookseller is a friend of mine, I mean, rather, his father was…”

Why he felt the need to explain himself was beyond me, but I brushed it past with, “All right.”

“Anyway, it’s getting dark.” He peered up at the sunset streaked sky. “I should be heading back.”

“Perhaps you should wait for us.” L’Oeil was known to be a safe town, but walking the mile up the forested road to West Ridge where anything lurked in the dark? There was safety in numbers.

“He’s fine,” Valere said.

Ashley jerked a little. “Er, yes. Quite fine.”

“If you say so…” What was with the two of them? We said our goodbyes, Ashley continued down the street, and yet Valere remained on the step, glowering at his back. If a small pinch between the eyes could be called glowering.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

He shrugged a shoulder, but didn’t move.

“It turned out well for Ashley and Dominic to be partnered together.” Had that come out too bitterly? “I mean, when Roux spoke about partners who wouldn’t get on, I thought for sure he meant Marcus and Dominic. But then they both need to survive until graduation.”

“Hayworthy is worse.”

“Worse than death?”

“He doesn’t listen to his ideas.”

“Dominic? Dominic will learn—”

“Hayworthy.” Ashley was the problem in that working relationship? In what plane of existence? “Roux should have partnered Dominic with me.”

“If only,” I muttered. Then I’d have Ashley.

He entered the shoppe. I took one last look at the darkening world, the shadows concealing any manner of danger, and fled inside after him.

Valere had stopped only a step inside the shoppe.

“Just a moment,” a voice called from the far side of the shoppe. Its owner bounced into view with Larian violet hair and… My eyes widened. The young clerk was dressed only in gartered shirtsleeves, no jacket. How indecent, the way the white cotton clung to his musculature. My tongue swept over my lips.

The clerk smiled, perfectly jovial, waving a feather duster in greeting. “Come in. We’re closing soon, but take your time.”

He might as well have told Valere to take himself in the back and slit his own throat for the reaction Valere gave, stiffening his shoulders and jerking himself into the stacks on the exact opposite side of the shoppe from the clerk.

I flashed the clerk a smile and followed him, the one lamp barely enough to fend off the row’s shadows. Daring to stand close enough to whisper into the ice prince’s ear, I asked, “What’s wrong?”

“He’s an apprentice.” Even without whispering, Valere spoke low enough I had trouble hearing.

“A what?”

“Apprentice.”

“The clerk?”

Valere nodded.

“Of what discipline? Not sorcery.” He surely would have heard of anti-dust spells.

“A hunter’s apprentice.”

I raised my brow. “No, he couldn’t possibly be. For one, he’s—”

“Larian descended?”

“Well, now that you mention it…”

Valere exhaled through his nose, as if I’d failed a test. “His ancestors defected to Le Chasseur’s cause. As you should well know, since they survived to breed.”

“But just… I mean, that doesn’t mean…”

“Le Savant’s own companion was Larian.”

“But he’s also practically naked!” What hunter’s apprentice dusted in his shirtsleeves instead of his blood red tunic? What hunter’s apprentice dusted?

Valere shrugged a shoulder. “The universe does not arrange itself to fit your beliefs.”

I ducked my head. While not verbatim, it was something Le Savant and Oswin had preached, now drilled into every West Ridge student since first year. I peered over the tops of books, just catching glimpses of the clerk’s shirtsleeves. He seemed more interested in tackling dirt than in tackling vampires, although it would explain his impressively athletic build. “Really?”

“Yes.”

To a keen observer like I was starting to become, Valere still seemed strangely bothered. Why be bothered if he was? Hunters protected us all in Le Chasseur’s name against the real evil — vampires. And sodomites like me.

But only if I failed to restrain myself. After I entered the guild — if I entered the guild — Vespasian would find me a proper wife, and that would be that. I prayed.