“No, sir,” Emily said. She’d lost more time than that, thanks to Nanette. “I believe she will not have trouble catching up.”
“Good, good.” Gordian shifted, uncomfortably. “I had a very unpleasant conversation with your friend.”
Emily nodded, slowly. “Can I ask what happened?”
“If you wish,” Gordian said.
He paused. Emily frowned, wondering if he wanted to make her ask. It would have been a petty power game, not something anyone would do when the stakes were so high. Unless ... it dawned on her that Gordian didn’t want to talk about it. But he didn’t really have a choice.
She took a breath. “What did you say to her?”
“Frieda was completely unable to account for her behavior,” Gordian said, flatly. “She insists that the creepers panicked her, making her lash out. I did not find the explanation satisfactory.”
“Grown adults have been known to panic too,” Emily said evenly, choosing not to mention the fact that most societies would consider Frieda a grown adult. “The creepers were not a conventional attack.”
“But one that could be handled by a lowly firstie.” He tapped the table, firmly. “Worse, this is merely the latest in a string of incidents involving your friend. It is clear that standard punishments have failed to curb her behavior. There comes a time when more ... stringent methods are necessary.”
Emily felt cold. There was no pretense that the principal was your pal, not at Whitehall. The Grandmaster and his staff were in charge. No one was allowed to doubt it. Their authority was enforced by everything from unpleasant detentions to corporal punishment. And if those methods failed ... what then?
“I have suspended Frieda for two weeks,” Gordian said. “During that time, she will not attend classes, nor will she be permitted to take part in any organized out-of-class activities such as the dueling club. She will take her meals with the servants; she will be permitted to make use of the library, but otherwise she will be expected to remain in her bedroom.”
Emily stared at him for a long moment. “That ... that will force her to retake the year.”
“Perhaps,” Gordian said. “She will have access to the library and study notes, even if she doesn’t attend classes. An able student will be able to lay the groundwork for catching up with the rest of the class, when she is permitted to return.”
“She will also need to work on her joint project,” Emily said. “She’ll need access to a spellchamber and a workroom.”
Gordian quirked an eyebrow. “And you believe she should be allowed to work on her project?”
“Yes,” Emily said. “I understand that Frieda needs to be punished. But if the joint project fails, Celadon will fail too. That would hardly be fair.”
“The world is not fair,” Gordian said.
“That doesn’t mean you have to make it even less fair,” Emily pointed out. She pushed the issue as hard as she dared. “Celadon did not take part in the dueling contest. There is no logical reason to punish him for Frieda’s mistakes. And it will look very bad if someone decides to challenge his marks on the grounds that someone refused to allow his partner to work.”
Gordian gave her a sharp look. “Do you think that’s a valid argument?”
“I think you don’t need the hassle, sir,” Emily said. She felt her head starting to pound. “He is dependent on Frieda’s contribution. If he doesn’t get it, the best he can hope for is a bare pass. And that will look very bad to his family.”
“Whoever taught you to argue should be thrashed,” Gordian muttered. He glared down at the table for a long, chilling moment. “Do you think his parents would have a case?”
Emily took a breath. The Nameless World didn’t believe in helicopter parents. A student who got bad marks could expect to face the wrath of his parents, rather than watch the parents descending on the school like angry gods. No one would complain if Celadon was marked down for not doing the work. But they would complain, she thought, if Celadon had been deliberately deprived of his partner. That would make him suffer for Frieda’s faults.
“I don’t think that matters,” she said. “What matters, sir, is if they think they have a case.”
“True.” Gordian looked up at her. “Very well. She may work with her partner, under supervision. Your supervision. And you will be held accountable for anything that goes wrong.”
And perhaps give him grounds to try to expel me, Emily thought. She felt the wards at the back of her mind. She still had no idea what Gordian had been trying to do to them, but she was fairly sure it involved trying to remove her influence. Or push me into a place where I have to surrender the wards.
“Very well,” she said.
“Good,” Gordian said. “I believe we will have to hold the second round again ...”
“I will be handing the dueling club and contest over to Cirroc,” Emily said, flatly. She never wanted to see a dueling ring again. “He can take control of both, now they are up and running. I believe he will be far better at handling them.”
Gordian’s eyebrows rose. “As Head Girl, it is your responsibility to make them work.”
“I did make them work,” Emily said. She’d done her best to anticipate everything Gordian would say and come up with counterarguments. “The dueling club now meets regularly, two days a week, and we are well on our way to finding a yearly champion who might even go on to the league! I don’t think the club needs me any longer. Putting someone else in charge, someone who has the talent and determination to make it work—and the time to dedicate himself to the club—would be far more efficient.”
She paused. She was fairly sure Gordian would respond better to an argument that benefited him in some manner, but she was uneasily aware that he was at least thirty years older than she was. If he spotted her trying to manipulate him, and she knew she wasn’t very good at subtle manipulation, he might react badly. And the only way to counter that was to put the argument in a way that laid all the advantages out before him.
“Cirroc has ambitions to join the league and become a dueling master,” she reminded him, carefully. “A strong tie between the club and a dueling master will benefit us in the future, will it not?”
“True.” Gordian gave her a sharp look. “And you think he has a chance of succeeding?”
“I don’t intend to join the league myself,” Emily said. She certainly had no intention of becoming a dueling master. “And nor do Jacqui and Cerise. Cirroc is the only one of us with such ambitions. He’s the only one who might succeed.”
Gordian nodded, curtly. “Very well. You can pass the club to him.”