“Extraordinar!” Anastasia exclaimed, kissing my cheeks. “I’ll see you soon, then.”

Raucous laughter echoed inside the room as I watched Anastasia hurry after our professor. No matter how much I wished to not do this alone, it was time to greet my fears and introduce myself to my classmates. Gradually. For now I’d show my face and take it slowly from there. Plus, it wasn’t as if I didn’t know anyone. Thomas would surely show up soon enough.

With my head held high, I marched into the dining hall. Five rows of long tables held curious students who grew quiet as I made my way to the opposite end of the room. One table held three young men, one being the rude, bulky boy from the hallway.

Another table had two brown-haired boys who didn’t bother glancing up from their books, presumably the Italians. Their skin was a rich bronze, as if they hailed from a place near the ocean. One of them was the smaller student that the brute had bumped into without apology.

A wiry young man with dark yellow-brown skin sat across from a boy who wore spectacles and had thick ginger curls. They tucked into their meals but lifted their eyes to gawk at my arrival.

My cheeks warmed as the sound of my skirts swishing together rose above their scattered whispers. At least I had Thomas. Even if we needed to battle for spots in the academy, we could fight together. And commiserating with Anastasia was also something to look forward to.

One of the boys at Bulky’s table snickered quite loudly, then whistled as if I were a common dog to be summoned. Of all the… I stopped walking and leveled a severe glare at him, cutting off his smirk with precision.

“Something amusing?” I asked, noticing the silence that descended on them as if they were soldiers who’d been called to war. When he didn’t respond, I said it once more, in my best Romanian, my voice ringing out loudly in the sudden quiet.

The young man’s lips twitched ever so slightly while I studied him. His hair was a shade darker than Thomas’s, and his eyes were a deeper hue of brown. His deep olive complexion was alluring in the way most enjoyed in a dark hero. He was rugged, though I assumed he held a rank of sorts, based on what Anastasia had mentioned.

Bulky snickered from the dark-haired boy’s side, upper lip curled. I had a feeling it was his normal expression thanks to genetics, and not one I should be offended by. How unfortunate for his parents.

I waited for the dark-haired boy to break away from my gaze, but he fixed his eyes stubbornly on mine. A challenge to gauge how easily I could break, or something more flirtatious, I didn’t care. I’d not tolerate being harassed because of my sex.

We were all here to learn. He was the one who had a problem, not I. Perhaps it was time for fathers to teach their sons how to behave around young women. They were not born superior, no matter how society falsely conditioned them. We were all equals here.

“Well?”

“I’m deciding, domnişoară.” He lazily dragged his gaze down each inch of my body, inspecting me closely, then coughed into his hand, no doubt whispering something unseemly as Bulky burst into laughter.

A slimmer, slightly paler young man sat on his other side, shifting his eyes from the dark-haired boy, to me, then to his hands, his mouth drawing into a frown. There was something in their bone structure that made me think they were related. However, his countenance was vastly different. He flicked his attention around as if it were a fly landing on different spots, then buzzing off just out of reach. He seemed so familiar…

I gasped as recognition set in.

“You. I know you.” He’d been on the train with Thomas and me. I was certain of it. He’d been the nervous passenger I’d wanted to question. He shifted in his seat, staring at the grain of the wood, ignoring me all together. His skin seemed to darken before my gaze.

I’d all but forgotten about the annoying dark-haired boy, and almost missed the fire that lit his eyes, as I gathered my skirts and headed for a table of my own.

DINING HALL

SALĂ DE MESE

BRAN CASTLE

2 DECEMBER 1888

“You do make the best entrances, Wadsworth. Half the young men at that table want to marry you now. I’ll have to work twice as hard on my fencing skills to defend your honor.”

I loosed a breath as Thomas folded himself into the seat across from me, plate piled high with savories from different regions, likely intended to accommodate students from across Europe. And sweets. Mrs. Harvey had been right about his affinity for desserts. I’d been so distracted by the boy I was certain was on board the train, I hadn’t noticed Thomas near the buffet.

“I hardly believe that’s true. I just made enemies, is what I did.” I stole a scone from his plate after he’d slathered clotted cream on it. “Anyway, I dislike all of the young men at that table, Cresswell. No need to turn in your scalpel for a foil just yet.”

“Careful, now. You’ve voiced the same charming sentiments about me. I get jealous rather easily. I want to have a duel, not raze the academy or burn it to the ground. Though it might improve Moldoveanu’s attitude, actually. Promise you’ll visit me in my cell?”

I smiled despite the topic and inspected my friend. “You know no one could ever annoy me as much as you, Cresswell. Hopefully they’ll think twice before mocking me again.”

“I’m quite certain it won’t be the last time you’re teased.” Thomas grinned while he covered another scone with cream. “Men enjoy the hunt. You have now proven you aren’t easily won, which makes you an interesting challenge. Why do you think so many heads are mounted on walls? Displaying trophies of our accomplishments is like saying ‘I’m strong and virile. Just look at that stag head in the study. I not only hunted it, I set the trap and coaxed it into my lair. Here’s some brandy, let’s pound our chests and shoot something.’”

“You’re saying you’d like to trap me and hang my severed head above the mantle, then? That’s so utterly romantic. Do tell me more.”

“Ahem.” Someone cleared their throat, interrupting us. “Would you mind if I sat here? Vă rog?”

Even while sitting, Thomas somehow managed to stare down his nose at the dark-haired boy who’d rudely laughed at me earlier and was now standing beside our table. There was nothing lighthearted in Thomas’s expression now.

“If you promise you’ll be nice.” Thomas slowly pushed his chair back, the limbs screeching against the floor in protest. He’d not moved far enough to allow the young man to come between us. I was reminded of how tall and long-limbed he was, and how he could use it as another weapon in his arsenal. “I’d hate to see Miss Wadsworth embarrass you. Again.”

Tension pooled from him in thick waves—so dark and turbulent I was nearly pulled under. I’d never known Thomas to show such strong emotions before and thought there might be something else going on besides his annoyance on my behalf. Perhaps Thomas had already encountered the dark-haired boy and it hadn’t gone very positively.

It didn’t take much to deduce that this wouldn’t end well. The last thing either of us needed to contend with was Thomas being expelled for—whatever he was about to unleash. Right now he was every bit the villain with a hero’s face.

“How may we help you, Mr.…?” I allowed the question to hang in the air.

As if Hell wasn’t unfolding around him, the young man angled himself toward me in an intimate way, and I reconsidered who was in danger of being thrown out of the academy: Thomas might very well be the one holding me back from landing a well-deserved slap.

“I apologize for my earlier behavior, domnişoară,” he said, accent soft and lilting. “I also beg forgiveness for my companions. Andrei”—he pointed to the brute, who nodded curtly in response—“and Wilhelm, my cousin.”

My attention drifted back over to the sickly young man from the train. Wilhelm’s color was even darker than before. Such an odd shade. It appeared as if he’d gotten smudges of reddish dirt on his face. I’d never seen a rash quite so horrible before. Beads of sweat dotted his brow line.

“Your cousin seems unwell,” Thomas said. “Perhaps you should tend to him instead.”

We watched as Wilhelm hoisted a large black cloak around his shoulders and hunched toward the door. I needed to speak with him, find out what he might know about the victim from the train.

The dark-haired boy moved into my line of sight. “Permite-mi să mă prezint. Er… allow me to introduce myself properly.”

He offered a shy smile, but it faded a bit while I kept my expression neutral. If he thought turning his charm on exceedingly high would endear him to me, he was quite mistaken. He sat taller, and an air of station dropped across him as if it were a velvet cloak settling into place.

“My name is Nicolae Alexandru Vladimir Aldea. Prince of Romania.”

Thomas snorted, but the young prince kept his gaze locked onto mine. I inhaled sharply, but made sure surprise didn’t show in my features, assuming he’d dropped his title in hopes of seeing the reaction he’d gotten from some other young men and women.

My suspicion was confirmed when his smile faltered, then vanished altogether the longer I went without reacting. I’d not allow myself to be treated so poorly, then swoon in the next breath. His title could likely buy much, but it couldn’t purchase my affections.

The entire room went silent as a church service while they waited for me to speak. Or bow. I was probably breaking all manner of protocol by not standing immediately and dropping into a curtsy. I smiled sweetly and leaned in.

“I’d say it was pleasant meeting you, Your Highness, but I was raised to not utter untruths.”

To keep from being entirely improper, I offered a slight incline of my head and stood. The expression on Prince Nicolae’s face was exceptional. As if I’d discarded my glove and slapped him with it in front of all these witnesses. I almost felt sorry for him—it was probably the first time anyone had offended him so ruthlessly. Whatever was he to do with someone who wouldn’t hang on his every princely word?