Two more weeks of Colby’s strict yet helpful tutelage had a paradoxical effect on the students. They knew their skills were improving, but they also felt less confident than ever. Colby had infected them with a drive to achieve perfection and enough doubt to make them feel like they’d never get there. Even after Colby’s class ended, it was all the students could talk about. They complained about their smallest mistakes and Colby’s unfair treatment and how they wanted to make things of their own choosing, not Colby’s.

It became a ritual. Morning classes with Colby. An early afternoon break spent in the humid greenhouse while complaining about the morning classes. Late afternoon classes with Colby. And then back to complaining. If they managed to air out all of their grievances by the end of dinner, it was a good day.

If not, the ritual extended to late night drinks in the lounge between the kitchens and the dorms. Aubergine wasn’t entirely on board with the late nights. He reminded them of their curfew—and the benefits of early morning jogging—but since the students weren’t leaving the Academy, no one seemed to really treat it like breaking the rules. The only ones that truly broke curfew were the Cafe Julienne crew, Julienne, Yarrow, and Mindy, as they worked late, but they did so with Aubergine’s permission.

“I think Colby likes more subtle flavors,” Nori said to no one in particular as a group of students drank in the lounge. “Next time I’m going to—”

“Ugh, would you give it a rest?” Oliver complained. “You’re already his second favorite behind Julienne, give the rest of us a chance to catch up. Now, who wants to try my latest concoction?”

“Absolutely not,” Nori answered.

Oliver looked around the room. “Bennyyyyy?”

Benedict shook his head and went back to looking out the balcony. Far below, Blanche’s silhouette moved alone inside the torch-lit greenhouse.

Barley motioned for the drink. Oliver jogged over with a grin and pushed the mug into Barley’s big hand. Barley’s silence had become a mainstay of their late night get togethers. He didn’t complain about Colby’s class and hardly spoke, but he stayed up as late as any of them.

Oliver wedged his way onto the couch between Juniper and Cress. Nori threw her legs over the arms of her plush armchair. Archie sat in another chair, Sutton sitting on the floor by him and studying Archie’s wound.

“How would you classify the tingling?” Sutton asked, taking notes in a little journal. “Is it an itch? A burn?”

Archie sighed. “Sutton, not now. I’m trying to get drunk.”

“I just feel like it would be more productive if he was nicer,” Hyssop complained as she picked at one of Aubergine’s many potted sunflowers that decorated the lounge.

“Enough Colby talk,” Oliver said. He took a sip of something dark and brown. “More drinking.”

“I’m allowed to complain if I want to,” Hyssop spat back. “Afterall, it’s—”

“Hyssie fit,” Oliver muttered as he looked into his cup.

“Hyssie fit,” Cress echoed.

“Hyssie fit,” Benedict said out of habit, not turning away from the balcony.

“Ugh, whatever!” Hyssop slammed her cup on the coffee table. “I don’t even complain that much!”

Oliver and Cress exchanged a knowing look and stifled their laughter.

“I’m outta here,” Hyssop declared. She marched away, leaving Oliver with the guilt of driving her out.

“Oh, come on…” he started.

“It’s fine. I’ll go talk to her,” Juniper said as she got up and followed Hyssop out of the lounge. The two girls had bonded over being the only unfortunate souls to have to call Prince Waldorf their sponsor. The stress had turned Hyssop into a firecracker, balanced out by Juniper’s dreariness.

Oliver didn’t move to occupy the space left by Juniper, instead leaning in toward Cress. “So can I make you a drink?”

Sutton poked the point of his quill an inch away from Archie’s wound.

“Ow! Sutton!” Archie wanted to sit up and swat the quill away, but he was too tired to rise out of the deep cushions of his chair, so he settled for a half-hearted kick.

“So when it tingles—”

“It’s like when your leg falls asleep,” Archie answered.

Sutton scribbled some notes. “So does it radiate from the wound or does the numbness happen all at once?”

“It radiates, I guess.” Archie took another drink, making his head swim. “Why all the questions?”

“Uh, well…Licertes are very rare. There are only a couple sightings each year. Tracking your recovery process could provide valuable insights for future attacks.”

“Well, there were nearly twenty of them, so I guess I got a decade’s worth of sightings.” Archie wagged his leg at Sutton like a cow’s tail swatting away flies.

Nori let her head hang upside down off her armchair so that she could look at Archie. Satisfied that he was doing okay, she lifted her head back up and looked out at the stars.

“Yes, that’s very unusual,” Sutton said. “If they are starting to exhibit pack behavior, that just makes this research all the more important. So since the injury, what triggers the tingling?”

Archie wished Hyssop was still around. Her ranting would drown Sutton out. “I don’t know. Using essence.”

“Do you feel it the moment you start using essence? Or is it after you’ve expended a fair amount?”

“No, it takes a while. I can cook a full meal while barely feeling it. But after that it starts to get pretty bad.”

Sutton muttered to himself as he scribbled some notes. Archie tuned into Oliver’s attempt to hit on Cress.

“I’ve been working on this one drink. You’re the inspiration,” Oliver said.

“Oh yeah?”

“Oh yeah. It’s a martini. Tequila. From Kuutsu Nuna, of course.”

“Of course.”

“It’s smooth. But strong. Of course.”

“Of course.”

“A little bit of chili oil, because it’s gotta have that kick. And the olive brine…lots of olive brine. I make it dirty.”

“You think I’m dirty?”

“I’m hoping.”

Nori groaned and drank half of her glass in one go. Cress laughed and started to respond, but Sutton distracted Archie from hearing the pick-up attempt’s conclusion.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“What about emotions?” Sutton asked.

“What about them?” Archie looked back over at Oliver and Cress. He had missed Cress’s response, but judging by the fact that Oliver had scooted away from her, the attempt hadn’t landed.

“Does your leg bother you more when you have a heightened emotional state?”

“Like when I’m really annoyed?” Archie added a little sting to his words.

Sutton didn’t get the hint.

“Sure.”

Archie thought about his leg. “Nope, nothing.”

Sutton obliviously scribbled some more notes and continued. “What about hunger?”

“Uhh, no. It doesn’t get bad when I’m hungry.”

“No, sorry,” Sutton said, pushing up his glasses. “When it hurts, do you get hungry?”

Archie’s face scrunched up in thought. “I dunno. Maybe? Yeah. Yeah, it does. It kinda makes me feel sick, though.”

“Interesting…” Sutton scribbled some more notes and turned the page. “So the voice that you heard. Did it sound familiar?”

Archie’s jaw clenched as he thought back to that day. He just wanted to listen to Oliver’s shameless flirting, drink, and complain about Colby’s class. He didn’t want to think about the time he almost died.

Nori sensed Archie’s discomfort. She let her head droop back again to look at them. “That’s enough, Sutton,” she commanded. Even upside down, her glare shut Sutton up.

“Fine, fine,” he conceded. “Just let me be there the next time Head Chef Anise changes your bandage, okay?”

“Sure. She’s switching me to regular gauze next week.”

A set of footsteps entered from outside. Archie twisted around to see Julienne, Yarrow, and Mindy walk in. Yarrow split off without a word, going to his room. Mindy walked to the balcony and followed Benedict’s eyes to the greenhouse.

“Ugh, you guys, she’ll stay out there all night if someone doesn’t get her,” Mindy sighed before heading toward the elevator.

“I’ll go with you!” Benedict said, scrambling to follow her.

“Prince Julienne!” Oliver slurred.

“Don’t call me that,” Julienne said as he took Benedict’s chair. “And get me a drink.”

“Get him a Cress,” Cress suggested.

“Mmm, good idea,” Oliver said. “How dirty should I make it?”

“So dirty,” she said, dropping her voice and her chin in a sultry combination. Oliver ran off to the kitchen.

“What’s with Yarrow?” Archie asked, the question having been on his mind for almost two months now.

“We got chewed out pretty hard tonight. Yarrow ruined a hundred-year old bottle of wine. Turned it into pure acid. And I burnt the cream sauce.” Julienne ran his hand through his hair, loose black hair falling around the sides of his face.

“What’s with the Prince Julienne thing?” Cress asked.

Julienne sighed and found someone’s leftover cup, smelling it before taking a drink. “Sutton, go ahead.”

Sutton bristled with excitement and pushed his glasses up. No one loved explaining things more.

“The Allard family can be traced directly back to Ambrosia. Her son, Nectarus, was the first king of Labrusca. He named his second son Julienne and sent him back to Ambrosia City as a gift to the people. Then that Julienne started naming his most talented descendant Julienne. Thus the tradition of Cafe Julienne.”

Archie looked down at Sutton, happy that the bookworm’s academic interests had been diverted to another topic. “So he’s royalty?”

“Technically, yes.”

“Prince Julienne!” Cress exclaimed.

“Prince Julienne!” Archie and Nori echoed.

Barley smiled in silence, but they all knew that in his head, he was shouting, “Prince Julienne!” with the rest of them.

Julienne shook his head and sighed. “Technically, I’m not—”

“Prince Julienne!” Oliver yelled as he emerged from the kitchen with a large shaker and a handful of empty martini glasses, their stems bunched up between his fingers.

Julienne took a glass and let Oliver pour. “Like I was about to say, I’m technically not a prince. When you take the Julienne name, you give up your place in the line of succession.”

“So where were you in the line of succession before?” Cress asked as Oliver filled her martini glass.

“Uhhh…Right now, I’d be…fifth?”

Sobering shock went through Archie. Nori snapped up in her chair. Cress nearly spilled her fresh martini in surprise.

“Julienne!” Nori exclaimed. “You’d be like…one bad carriage ride away from being king.”

“Get your old name back!” Cress said.

“King Julienne!” Oliver added.

Julienne took a deep breath and a deep drink. “As I’ve said before, I like having the name Julienne. Believe it or not, it’s actually a bigger honor than being king.”

Archie and Nori looked at each other and shook their heads playfully.

“Seriously, it is,” Julienne said. “It’s like Sutton said. I’m an ambassador of a thousand years of history. Labrusca was only fully independent for like…fifty years, so being king is sort of a regional thing. It’s the Juliennes that really get the national stage.”

Archie took one of Oliver’s martinis and sipped it. The olive brine made him wince. Too dirty. “So wait, Julienne, if you’re a direct descendent of Ambrosia…does that make you like…a demigod?”

Julienne shrugged. “I guess.”

Sutton refused a drink—as he always did—so Oliver moved on to Nori before filling up his own glass.

“Cheer up, divine one,” Oliver said as he sat back down near Cress.

“Seriously though,” Julienne said. “Being Julienne is a bigger deal than being king. That’s why I’m so stressed out about losing the name.”

“Losing it?” Archie asked.

“My next screw-up could be my last. I’ll probably lose it on my birthday in a month.”

“Why on your birthday?”

“Going with the whole ‘Julienne is Labrusca’s gift back to Ambrosia’ of it all, it’s tradition that on a Juliennes’ birthday, they cook a feast for the royal family. My uncle will be extra critical. If it’s not perfect, I’m done. He’s got a son that’s a couple years older than me. He’d love to name him Julienne.”

During Colby’s classes, Julienne had a permanently flirty and fun facade. But here, stripped of confidence by his uncle and already feeling the buzz of Oliver’s concoction, Julienne was just an insecure teenager with everything to lose.

He took another drink. “I’m hoping Head Chef Pomona can help Yarrow with his acid problem. Mindy is doing fine, but fine isn’t going to get us anywhere. I need to think of something big…”

Nori leaned over and placed her hand on Julienne’s knee. The touch made something inside Archie burn and twist.

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help,” she said.

“Thanks.” Julienne leaned back in his chair. “Hey Oliver, this drink is almost not bad.”

Oliver rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Head Chef Colby.”

“How’s the pasta-making coming?”

“Awful.”

“I’ll be back in a bit,” Cress said as she got up and went toward her room.

Julienne looked between Archie and Nori. “What about you two? Make any good stews recently?” he asked with a laugh.

“We actually pushed our culinary limits last week,” Nori answered, her voice thick with sarcasm. “Made some cornbread to go with the stew. Some Kuutsan recipe Rowan picked up last year while traveling.”

Julienne laughed. “He’s eccentric. One time he invited my uncle to dinner at The Gift. I think my uncle almost died when he realized it was in the Roots.”

“Yeah, it’s…” Archie sighed. “I had pretty high hopes when I got sponsored by a Black Jacket. The only thing he’s taught us is that everyone deserves a good dinner. Which is true, but…still.”

Sutton opened his journal and his quill found its place. “Does your leg tend to hurt more when you’re with Rowan?”

“What? What kind of question is that?”

“Be right back. Barley, hold down the fort for me,” Oliver said as he put his drink down and went to his room. Barley nodded in silence.

Sutton continued his questions. “Does it?”

“I don’t…I don’t think so?”

“Hm. And have you been in the presence of any Gluttons since the incident?”

“Uh…no.”

“Enough, Sutton,” Nori warned.

Sutton frowned at her. “We’ll continue another time,” he whispered to Archie.

“So Julienne,” Nori said, filling the dead air. “Have you met Grand King Flambé?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah.”

Archie looked at Nori with surprise. “When did you meet him?”

“He spends like three months a year in Uroko. My father serves him almost every year.”

“What’s he like?”

“Intimidating at first,” Julienne said.

Nori nodded. “But friendly.”

“His son on the other hand…”

The conversation turned to the uncomfortable topic of the Gluttonous Prince Waldorf. Archie only made a few more minutes before deciding to turn in for the night. As he left the lounge, one of Aubergine’s sunflowers turned to watch him.

He turned the corner and bumped into Cress.

“Goodnight, Archie,” she said as they passed. For whatever reason, she giggled.

“Goodnight, Cress.”