Emily allowed herself a moment of relief. She’d been fairly sure it lay within her authority, but Gordian might have tried to overrule her. Coming to think of it, he might even have tried to pass the club to Jacqui or Cerise. That would have been embarrassing. But Cirroc offered the greatest long-term advantage, as far as Emily could tell. Gordian evidently agreed.
“You can inform Frieda that she will be permitted to work on her joint project.” Gordian met her eyes, warningly. “And if I were you, I would be reconsidering my friendship with Frieda. Her behavior has become thoroughly unacceptable.”
He pointed a finger at the door. “Go.”
Emily turned and walked through the door, keeping her back ramrod straight. She didn’t allow herself to show any emotion as she passed through the antechamber, only sagging when the outer door was firmly closed behind her. Frieda was suspended ... she groaned as the full implications struck her. If Frieda failed her exams, she might not be allowed to repeat the year. Her behavior had been appalling, after all. And even if she passed, she might not get good enough grades to pass into Fifth Year. There wouldn’t be much hope of an apprenticeship if she left Whitehall with low marks.
Fuck, she thought, numbly.
She cursed Gordian under her breath. Expelling Frieda would have been kinder. God knew hardly anyone—apart from Emily—would challenge the verdict. And yet, she did have influence over Whitehall’s wards. Gordian might have been trying to find a compromise between punishing Frieda and not alienating Emily herself ...
Too late, she thought.
“Emily,” a voice said. Emily turned to see Melissa, looking tired. “A word, please?”
Emily raised her eyebrows. “Did Jacqui send you?”
Melissa gave her an odd look. “Why ...?”
“Never mind.” Emily leaned against the walls, feeling power thrumming through the stone. “What can I do for you?”
“My cousin was badly injured by your friend.” Melissa’s face twisted. “That is not going to look good.”
“I know,” Emily said. She wondered if Melissa was going to challenge her, or merely throw a hex without bothering with a formal challenge. Adana had been Melissa’s baby cousin, once upon a time. Melissa had every right to be upset. “I’m sorry.”
“The family isn’t going to be pleased.” Melissa walked up to Emily and stood next to her. “I know she’ll recover, physically. Mentally ...?”
Emily nodded. She’d taken weeks—months, really—to recover from Shadye’s attack on Whitehall. Or the Mimic. Or Mother Holly. Or the moment when she’d killed Master Grey or watched, helplessly, as Casper died. The Nameless World could heal anything that wasn’t instantly lethal, if the victim was taken to a healer. But mental damage was beyond repair.
And no one wants to try to find spells to help deal with it, she thought, morbidly. They’re too scared about accidentally creating a whole new breed of powerful necromancers.
“I’ve been through worse,” Emily said, quietly. “Adana will recover.”
“I hope so,” Melissa said. “But if she doesn’t ...”
Emily sighed. “What will your family do?”
“I don’t know.” Melissa sighed. “It’s not as if they invite me to conclaves now.”
She snorted, bitterly. “They didn’t invite me before, of course. Fulvia just told us what to do and everyone went along with it. She decided who I’d marry and ... they just agreed.”
Emily pulled herself upright. “Why did they even listen to her?”
“She was old and powerful and knew where most of the bodies were buried,” Melissa said, sardonically. “And very few people dared to challenge her.”
“Oh.” Emily started to walk down the corridor, Melissa falling into step beside her. “What happened between you and Jacqui?”
Melissa frowned. “Jacqui and Cerise both come from families that are connected to mine,” she said, slowly. “We were the same age, so we were put together when the families met and ... and expected to get along. We did, of course. It was expected of us.”
She sighed. “And then I was disowned and they dumped me,” she added. The bitterness in her voice was palpable. “Jacqui even turned around and practically ran up the corridor, just to make it clear she wasn’t spending any time with me. So much for everything I did for her! Gaius’s friends showed more loyalty.”
“Jacqui invited me to befriend her,” Emily said. “Why?”
Melissa stopped, dead.
“Because she thinks she can use you, I suspect.” She snorted, rudely. “I wasn’t taught to have friends, Emily. The people we were taught to court were the ones who could help us.”
“Jacqui said much the same,” Emily commented.
“Well, of course,” Melissa said. The hurt in her voice grew stronger. “We had the same lessons.”
She ran her hand through her hair. “You know—you should know—that people are expected to help their friends. But there’s also ...”
Melissa sighed. “Jacqui sees advantage in courting you. I suppose there’s something honest about it. She’s not some man pretending to be interested in whatever boring subject you’re talking about because he wants to lift your dress the minute you’re alone together. She will be honest about trading favors for favors, about owing obligations, about speaking for you as you will speak for her.”
Emily lifted an eyebrow. “How many men spoke to you like that?”
“I was the Heir,” Melissa said, in a faintly pitying tone. “Men would have buzzed around me like flies, even if I was a hunchback with a wooden leg. I could have jumped in a cesspit—” she snickered, humorlessly “—and they would have been complimenting me on my perfume.”
She looked sad, just for a moment. “And then I was disowned and suddenly ... no one was interested in me.”
“You’re married,” Emily pointed out. “And Markus is a great guy.”
“Relationships aren’t just about sex, Emily,” Melissa said. “I was taught to build up a web of people who owed me favors, who would repay them when I called. Now ... I have to start again, from scratch.”
“Or refuse to play at all,” Emily said.
“Which feels unnatural,” Melissa said. “Markus is doing the same, of course. He’ll be head of the banking guild when it is formally announced. His contacts with the other bankers make it a certainty.”
She shrugged. “If you want to befriend Jacqui, then befriend her,” she said. The pain in her voice was clear. “But watch for the web of obligations. You might find yourself committed to something you don’t want.”
“Thank you,” Emily said.
Melissa snorted and walked away. Emily stood there for a long moment, centering herself as much as possible, then reached out to touch the wards. She’d never liked using them to locate someone, even a tutor, but she didn’t have a choice. She certainly didn’t have the time to search the school from top to bottom.
She sighed. Frieda was in her bedroom. And that meant ...
Time to go talk to her, Emily thought. And then ... what?
Chapter Thirty-Four