As they headed down the stairs toward the dining hall, Thirtyx pulled at his collar with disdain. "I miss my lounging clothes already."

"Psh, I spent half of break in my military uniform. This is practically casual wear for me."

"Yes, yes, your posh palace life is brutal, and school is your only respite. How terrible your life must be, your princeliness."

"That’s Commander to you," Benn corrected with a wink.

They shuffled into a vast room outfitted with an array of variously sized dining tables. Along one wall, a selection of fruits, breads, and pastries were arranged for the taking, and an adjacent wall featured a row of servers positioned behind steaming crocks. Sweet and savory scents danced in the air, pleasant to Thirtyx's nose even though they couldn’t provide him much nourishment.

Benn and Thirtyx both braced themselves against the onslaught of sideways glances and whispering that always accompanied the start of term as everyone readjusted to the royals’ constant presence. Thirtyx felt a small tickle in the back of his mind, one that he'd sorely missed. He accepted the tickle and opened his mind to the mild invasion that followed.

This is the last time I have to walk into a full cafeteria gawking at me on the first day of term, said Benn's voice in his head. I may celebrate with pancakes.

Thirtyx fought to keep his expression under control. It's the last time I have to walk in behind you watching them wonder why you hang out with me.

Aw, come on. Don't pretend you don't find their wondering tasty.

It was pretty tasty, Thirtyx admitted. The atmosphere was charged with a delightful energy as people met up with friends they hadn't seen yesterday and debated which details from their break they wanted to share. Combined with all the silent judgment of Benn’s friendship with Thirtyx, it was basically a feast.

Thirtyx slid into his familiar chair at his familiar table and leaned back with a contented sigh. Relief spread from his stomach down all the nerves in his body to his fingertips and toes. He let his eyes slide closed.

Look alive, buddy. I don't want Vix hexing you while I have my back turned.

Thirtyx reluctantly opened his eyes. Benn was hovering near the hot food stations, so Thirtyx scanned the room for other people he should be aware of—friendly or otherwise. Do you know if Rhea's coming down?

Benn's mind made the thought equivalent of a snort. She's already here. Sitting with her adoring public. Playing her role as the tortured diplomat.

Thirtyx's eyes found her around the time Benn trailed off. She was at one of the largest tables, surrounded by a crowd of mostly Selkies, laughing at someone's joke. Another tickle signified that she'd joined their mental chat. You two know I despise this, don't you?

Oh, yes, popularity, how awful, Thirtyx thought in a singsong tone. The same mechanisms that kept him from lying aloud also applied to their mental communications, but his thoughts were thankfully less rigid in regard to sarcasm.

Next, Thirtyx spotted Vix and his buddies at a table all the way across the room. Surely he’d seen Thirtyx enter with Benn, but he was still ignoring the Verith, a promising sign. Maybe he didn’t want to admit to his friends that Thirtyx had tricked him and slipped out from right under his pointed, demonic nose.

"Hey, Thirtyx. Is this seat taken?"

Thirtyx flinched—a gut reaction to being approached by someone other than Rhea and Benn—but his muscles quickly relaxed. It was just Seerla. While she'd never been particularly warm to Thirtyx, she was one of the few who had no disdain toward him either. She treated him with respect and even defended him from vicious comments on occasion.