Chapter 18: Sour

Freja's POV

At noon the dining hall was full, and Anson had saved the best seat for himself.

He stood on the dais at the end of the room with one hand resting on Tilly's shoulder.

Her curls were flattened on one side, and there was a bruise on her cheekbone.

A hunter stood behind her.

The girl in the silver dress sat at Anson's right, white-faced, with her hands in her lap.

Four hundred students watched, and nobody dared to eat.

Cade and I walked in together through the double doors.

He stayed one step behind my left shoulder, and every head turned.

"Let her go," I said.

My voice carried farther than I had meant it to.

"Miss Keene." Anson smiled. "How nice of you to come, with Mr. Karrick, who owes me something."

"Tilly first."

"The pages first."

I stopped in the middle of the floor and held up a folded sheaf of paper.

"They're right here."

Tilly's eyes found mine, red-rimmed and furious, and she gave her head a tiny shake.

She was telling me not to do it.

I wasn't going to.

"Let her walk to the dean," I said, "in front of everyone, and you get your pages."

"You're in no position to bargain."

"I'm in front of four hundred witnesses, and you are standing in a dining hall holding a student by the shoulder."

Murmurs ran along the tables.

Anson's thumb flexed on Tilly's collarbone once, and I smelled the first thin edge of sour.

He took his hand away.

"Run along, Miss Soderstrom," he said to Tilly.

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