This is not so bad. His office is smaller than the Chairwoman's, but it has all the trappings his position brings. Pced at its end, facing the door, is a rge, well-made, stonewood desk with a carved protome of a phoenix jumping out toward you as you sit in front of the desk's occupant. It doesn't feel as cold as her office, it almost feels...homey. A plush woolen rug spreads across most of the room, its colors rich reds and dark greens, and there is golden braiding at the edges. Embroidered dark-blue cushions are scattered across upholstered furniture. Decorating the space are tapestries that depict rich purple fields with people in strange clothing standing within this purple lushness.

  ''I know you are very perceptive. But also very stubborn, irascible, and imprudent,'' the Archmaster says. ''Despite the shame you have brought upon yourself by going to the boys' dormitory, many in your css continue looking up to you. True is true, you are not zy. You spend a lot of time doing bdecraft in gymnasiums and studying in the Great Library. However, you are inclined to anger and are not very sociable.''

  I'm starting to think that some of the guards and caretakers do a lot more than just guarding and caretaking. He probably knows when was the st time I went to take a shit. It was twenty days ago. Well, he wouldn't know that, though. Four days ago I pretended to take a shit—it was just a long pissing session really.

  I'm taller than most girls in my css. Couple that with long red hair, and it is easy to track my comings and goings.

  Speaking of shit, yesterday evening I finished with my pigsty punishment. Showered three times since then, spent entire hyacinth-scented soap rubbing myself all over. The stench of my unjust punishment is carved into my sensitive, little nose for all time.

  My hair received so much vigorous scrubbing I thought I'd lose a thousand strands, but strangely I saw not one fall out.

  He releases a long sigh. ''I have read of a certain moth, rge-winged and pretty, that is irresistibly drawn to honey. It flies towards a bee's nest, seeing no danger. It nds on the nest and begins gorging itself with honey. As he is being stung to death the moth continues to feed on the sweetness until it finally drops onto the ground like a leaf.

  ''The Horatius boy. Stay away from him. Lest he be stung. Since his seed is barren and he is obviously unable to produce sons, his parents essentially disowned him. Were you to be expelled, you have parents of good means. Yes, you would live in dishonor, but would not starve. In the very end, he has nothing but the Academy.''

  They're reading students' letters! Gabriel told no one about his cruel family, no one but me. He doesn't like to talk about it. Sometimes he writes home, only rarely is there a reply. And this old man knows.

  This fucking pce.

  I lean back into my chair. ''I see.'' I create a small, hopefully reassuring, smile.

  ''Listen to me carefully, girl,'' he whispers, his voice anger. ''That day Gabriel tried to save you from the righteous punishment of Amina's...Chairwoman's hand, he didn't move to strike at the guards, he tried to attack the Chairwoman herself. Only barely had I managed to convince her his focus was the Crimson Guard—bad enough in itself.

  ''Gabriel is an excellent-grade student, through and through.

  ''Unlike you, he is calm, calcuted, charismatic. All the boys see him as their natural leader, expelling him would be disastrous for the morale of many students and might even birth disorder and reason for more punishments. What I say to you next: it is not a threat, it is a fact. Were he to ever repeat any of the sort, I will whip him myself to the bone, girl. Foolishness of youth can only be tolerated so much. Your body, your gift, all belong to the state and the Faith. Stay away from him.''

  No, old man. My body is my own. I don't give a fuck about my Genesis gift. And Gabriel? He is mine.

  What's more, Gabriel paid too much already. On my flogging day, it took two rge guards, armed and armored, to knock him out. He had spent seven days in a dungeon where the guards hit him, showing no mercy even early on that first day while he was unconscious. I assume the wretches had their pride wounded and they've made it show all over his body. Around the time he was about to be released, I volunteered to work at the Healing Hall for a month, gave a fat sack of hex to the praefectus medicus to get myself assigned there. More than once have I changed Gabriel's bandages and emptied his chamber pot; gave him a massage or two or three—the slow kneading of his many muscles was necessary for hastening the healing process, of course. What were we talking about?

  Ah, yes...

  I give him a sad, tiny smile. ''Of course, Archmaster.'' I look down and to the side, all defeated-like. ''I know it is probably for the best.''

  He narrows his eyes for a moment or two, acquiescence settling onto his face. ''Now, in a different vein, you will inform your cssmates, there will be no lectures held over the next few days. The Academy is decring three days of mourning.

  ''Senator Icarus Sextus died. Fell out of a window.''

  ''Fell out of a window?'' I ask.

  ''Yes. It seems he got drunk one night and fell out of his vil's highest window.''

  ''I've never heard of him.''

  Archmaster Pinarius strokes his long white beard, his old eyes neutral. ''He was said to be a great orator. Senator Sextus was a prominent proponent of the spreading faction.''

  ''Spreading faction?'' I instinctively focus my hearing on him. This will slightly increase the sound of his voice. Sometimes I can't control it, especially when reading. Very annoying thing when I'm in the Great Library and there are people nearby.

  His fat silver-gray brows furrow. ''Perhaps if you spent less time ogling Gabriel or reading about unsavory topics, you'd know such basic things. They believe we need to have at least one permanent outpost in the Wastes.''

  That sounds ridiculous. I pause for a bit, moving my head a little up and to the side, unsure if I should give words to my thoughts. ''That sounds ridiculous. A permanent one?''

  He narrows his eyes. Probably debating with himself how much to tell me. ''Well, it...has been an idea growing in popurity within the Senate. Especially in recent decades.''

  He is probably telling me all that is common knowledge. Well, not to me. Politics never really interested me. I know little. I remember Father sometimes commenting on who are the newly elected consuls. And another such political memory that hits my mind now is of him talking about books and how they are protected. I was eight or nine, so those memories are a bit hazy.

  I lean forward, intrigued. ''How would the outpost be protected from rock rain? And the soil outside the canyon is often not that fertile. Would the outpost always need supplies to be sent from here?'' I look to the side at the purple tapestry adorning the wall. ''Maybe a squad of Violet Breakers could help with self-reliance. Preferably, such an outpost should be located within a cave system and near a river.'' My eyes jump back to his. ''Wouldn't a single, powerful-enough Wraith, destroy it completely, though? Like it always happened during previous centuries when such an idea was implemented.'' I look up for a moment. ''Hmmm...it can be done. What is the Senate's opinion on maximum capacity the canyon can handle?''

  He blinks. ''Those are not issues that should concern a student's mind, and especially not the mind of a girl of common birth. Heed my earlier words greatly, and what's more, try not to assault the other half of your css. You can leave now.''