I snatched my hand back from his arm, but his anger made no sense. “Excuse me,” I snapped, “all I’ve done today is wake up and get dressed!”

Cassian glared down at me. “We aren’t here to make friends,” he snapped right back. “We’re here to learn to rule. Any time you spend on them is wasted.”

Was he really this annoyed that I was talking to our roommates? This was going to get old fast. “You never have any fun, do you?” I asked, rolling my eyes. “The stick up your ass says no.”

I expected some reaction, even if it was just a wordless growl, but he just kept on scowling, his scar in stark relief in the sunshine.

“No,” he said shortly, then started walking again. “I have no time for fun. I’m always training, always working, always focused on what it means to lead. From now on you do the same. Today we pick our classes.”

“Wait, what? I have a class schedule.” I’d already fought with my mom to get the classes I wanted, I wasn’t about to fight this asshole too.

This time Cassius rolled his eyes. “I will say what classes are useful to my Key Sorcerer, and I haven’t yet said. That’s why we’re meeting with the chancellor.”

He turned around and started walking—marching—off, his long legs eating the distance. I had to jog to catch up and almost grabbed his arm to stop him again, but I thought better of it. “How did you get an appointment with the chancellor so fast?” I asked, trying not to sound like I was panting. “I just agreed to work with you last night!”

Cassius waved a cavalier hand. “I don’t need an appointment.”

I sighed. All hail our once and future king, I guess. No regard for anyone else’s time or schedule, which was just fantastic for me. The more he said his “key sorceress,” the more it sounded like “lackey.” But I just had to go with it for now, as much as I hated being maneuvered.

We made our way to Faculty Row, where the professors lived during the school year. It was a wide avenue that ended in the chancellor’s five-story residence. It loomed over the other little houses on the street with a black iron gate separating it from the others. As if we needed the distinction.

A guard stood on either side of the gate, but Cassius just breezed past them with barely a nod and pushed his way in. They looked at each other, baffled, but didn’t make any move to stop the prince. I squared my shoulders and strode after him, trying to project the same confidence he oozed. Okay, fair, the cloak flaring behind me helps. I must look pretty badass.

Cassius strode right up to the door, and a servant opened it before he could even knock, but he wasn’t the least bit surprised. I suppose he expected every door to open without him lifting a finger.

“Please, follow me.” The serving girl, younger than us and trembling at the sight of the prince, curtseyed and hurried away.

I was shocked as we walked through the mansion, because that was what this was. The expensive rugs cushioning our steps, the golden sconces on the walls, the marble columns and arching doorways—was that crushed velvet wallpaper? I swallowed the urge to whistle. So this was what being Chancellor to Obsidian Academy paid, huh? Jeez, must be nice.

Mother and I didn’t come from money. She was “the daughter of no one important” according to her, and the money she earned as Key Sorceress went to her wardrobe and my training. Even though we could’ve, Mother had opted not to live in the palace, so we stayed in the king’s village nearby. It wasn’t like we’d ever really wanted for much in our cottage—if you could call three stories, extensive grounds, a cook, and handful of servants a cottage—but I’d never lived in anything this grand.

I guess managing a school for villains was a dangerous job, so hazard pay, I supposed. Once the girl led us through two double doors and into a giant library, though, I stopped caring about anything else.

“Please, make yourselves comfortable,” the girl said, and that was all the permission I needed to make a beeline straight for the closest row of books. There was a huge window and plenty of light, and an armchair in the corner that had my name on it.

Ooh, an entire section on the history of sorcery? I swallowed my squeal of excitement and pulled out the first title I got my hands on. A shadow passed as Cassius moved in front of the window, but he was staring out at Faculty Row, so I paid him no mind and took the book to the chair. Hopefully the chancellor took her sweet time…

Far too soon, the doors opened again and the chancellor strode in. She looked tense, but as Cassius turned around, a jovial expression blossomed on her face.

“Your Highness,” she said, taking his hand as she bowed her head to press his fingers to her brow. Shit, am I supposed to do that every morning? How was I already fucking this up?

If the chancellor was surprised to see me, she didn’t show it. “I’m Chancellor Campwell,” she said with a warm smile, shaking my hand. “And you, of course, are Liliana Batista. We’ve been anticipating Fortunata’s protégé joining us—it’s an honor to teach a master of the four elements.”

She bowed her head almost as deeply as she had to the prince, and I had to force a smile. I didn’t like only being known for my power, and liked even less being “Fortunata’s protégé,” not that I could ever say that out loud.

Cassius didn’t waste any more time on greetings. “We’re here to revise Lilian’s schedule,” he declared, and I shot a glare at him. Liliana, asshole. “She’s to be my Key Sorcerer, so I want to be sure her education here is useful.”

“Of course,” the chancellor said. “If you’ll follow me.” She moved off to the right where a desk and chair were cleverly hidden behind a bookshelf. She gestured for us to sit and I did—but Cassius stayed standing. The chancellor opened a drawer and flitted through some folders before she pulled out one with my name. The prince made an impatient gesture and she hurried to give him my schedule.

Immediately, he sighed. “Do you really need History of Villainy?” he drawled. “Didn’t you grow up reading those books?”

I frowned. “Well, yeah, but I never got to talk about it with anyone.” And it was my bird course—I could fly right through it—but I didn’t say that in front of the chancellor.

“That will have to go,” he said with a snort, then to the chancellor, “She will enroll in Politicking with me that period.”

The Chancellor picked up a pen and glanced at me. I appreciated the illusion of choice, but we both knew I didn’t have one. “That sounds…lovely.”

Campwell shrugged and struck out the class, scribbling what he wanted on top. “Music of the Evil Sirens is only a requirement for mer-students,” he said, like I didn’t know that. “Besides, can you even sing?”

No, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. “I like siren songs,” I grumbled.

Cassius shook his head. “Replace it with Social Deviances,” he ordered, and of course the chancellor obeyed. That class sounded stupid to me. We were all social deviants! But I kept a lid on my temper as he skimmed the rest of my schedule.

“Another elective?” he said derisively. “And Archery Assassination at that? You have powers. You don’t need a bow and arrow.” I opened my mouth to protest, but he looked right at Campwell and said, “Add her to Dishonesty in Treatises with me.”

For the next five minutes I sat back and silently fumed as Cassius made more decisions for me, because if I didn’t, I’d punch the prince in the mouth right in front of the chancellor, and there was no world where I didn’t get expelled for that, or worse. But the more he talked, the more I felt the noose grow tighter and tighter around my neck.

My entire life, I’d lived at the whim of my mother—what my mother believed was best, what my mother desired me to be, to do, to think. Obsidian Academy was supposed to be my chance to do what I wanted, become the villainess I wanted to be without her dictating my every move. Even when she told me I’d be going as part of a mission, I thought sure, fine, I’d find the mole and then I’d have the rest of my four years to live as I pleased.

But now…

After he was done rearranging my life to his liking, Cassius strode from the room without so much as a glance in my direction. That’s it. I’d had more than enough. The second we finally made it outside, before we were in view of the guards, I grabbed his arm again.

“Cassius, I don’t think I can live like this.”