I glanced at Florence and saw she was biting her lip nervously. Was Professor Rodriguez crossing a line? A treasonous one?

I got the feeling Rodriguez and Hassan must not have been the best of friends despite being on the same faculty.

“Dragons were more valuable to the realm than healers,” the teacher went on. “Healers were expendable. And so countless healers were sent to try to save the dragons. So many that their names have been lost to history. Conveniently so. My great-great-grandmother’s name was remembered because my family honored her legacy and her sacrifice. But many were forgotten. Or if they were remembered, it was only as failures in the eyes of the highbloods. Healers, you see, could not save the dragons. The last dragon died out. And so did the riders. Until now.”

He met my eyes, his own rich, brown ones cool with mistrust.

“Stay behind after class, Miss Pendragon. I’ll have a few tasks for you to be carried out over the lunch hour.”

I took a deep breath and nodded.

He had to punish me. Part of me even understood why. I had forced him to publicly recount a family legacy that must have been incredibly painful. One which clearly still cast a long shadow over Professor Rodriguez’s life’s work.

The professor moved on to the course objectives, briefly explaining how healers fit into the broader context of the vampire military in their support roles. He sketched out the basic anatomy and physiology of vampires versus mortals, highlighting their key differences and similarities. I scribbled notes as fast as I could, trying to keep up with Florence, who was making neat, shorthand notes on her parchment–clearly this was familiar territory to her already–and Naveen who wasn’t taking any notes at all, just listening intently as if he were memorizing everything Professor Rodriguez said.

By the time class finished, Professor Rodriguez was telling us to look forward to brewing our first alchemical potion next time.

“Don’t forget, you’ll need to bring a cauldron, vials, and mixing tools to the next class,” he reminded everyone. “You can store them here in the storeroom after that. Of course, you’ll need to make sure they’re maintained and kept in clean condition.”

For the first time that day, I heard loud bells chiming as the clock on the wall sounded twelve o’clock.

“Wish they’d done that this morning,” I muttered under my breath as I packed up my quill and parchment and passed them to Florence, swearing silently to myself that I’d pack a proper bag full of supplies tomorrow.

“What do you mean?” Florence asked in surprise.

“Do you mean the bells?” Naveen asked, raising his dark brows. “They did ring this morning. They ring between every class and announce mealtimes.”

I stared at them blankly. “I didn’t hear them.”

Florence frowned. “That’s odd.”

I rubbed my eyes, feeling a headache coming on. It had been brewing all morning, I realized, I just had kept pushing the pain away. “Maybe I was too distracted. Regan had just introduced me to all of these students from House Drakharrow...”

Florence nodded and looked relieved. “That’s probably it. You’ll get used to hearing the bells and now that you know what they’re for, you won’t be late again.”

She glanced at Professor Rodriguez. “I guess you’ll be missing lunch.”

“Yes,” I said hollowly. “Who needs food? I’m only mortal after all.”

“I’ll try to grab something for you in the refectory,” she offered. “Which class do you have after lunch?”

I yanked my schedule out of my bag and showed it to her.

Her face fell as she scanned it. “Oh. You’re in a combat class after lunch. Advanced Weaponry. Strategists and healers don’t usually require combat training. Naveen will, as a scout, but his combat class is a completely different one.” She perked up. “But we’ll see you in the library at two o’clock. I’ll bring you something then.”

I tried not to groan, thinking of how I’d have to trek through the school on my own and get through a combat class on a stomach that was starting to feel very, very empty.

I forced a smile. “That’s really nice of you, Florence. Thank you.”

“Of course! We First Years have to stick together.” She beamed.

I was just grateful she hadn’t decided to shun me after the taboo questions I’d asked in our first two classes. Florence was most definitely the kind of student Quinn Riley had in mind when she said most students worshiped the highbloods.

Despite this, I found myself genuinely liking the studious dark-haired girl. Just because she admired vampires didn’t mean she wasn’t also a good person.

The sound of Professor Rodriguez clearing his throat loudly brought me back to reality.

“Miss Pendragon, if you’d wrap up the chatter, I have some tasks for you.”

Florence and Naveen quickly left the classroom while I remained.

“You’ll be spending your lunch hour here, Miss Pendragon,” Professor Rodriguez said with deceptive pleasantness. “Your entire lunch hour.”

I stared back at him, taking in his features. His richly warm complexion paired well with his large, hazel eyes. His dark hair had a natural wave to it and was slightly ruffled, giving him a rugged appearance. The lines of his face were strong. Well-defined jaw. High cheekbones. There was pride and resilience there. A demeanor that brooked no argument.

If I hadn’t just accidentally made him my enemy, I’d probably have liked Professor Rodriguez.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot, Professor,” I said, trying to keep my tone as respectful as possible. “I wasn’t trying to bring up a painful subject.”

“Unless you’re going to tell me who told you to raise that painful subject, Miss Pendragon, you can keep your apologies to yourself.” He ran a hand through his hair. “But I don’t think you need to tell me.”

I looked at him in surprise. “Oh, no?”

He shook his head. “You’re betrothed to arguably the most powerful young man in this school. Not to mention one of the most entitled. It seems Blake Drakharrow’s demeanor has already rubbed off on you.”

My jaw fell open. “I only got to Sangratha yesterday. I only met Blake yesterday. And believe me, I don’t want to be his betrothed. I hate him as much as you seem to.”

“I don’t hate any of my students, Miss Pendragon,” Rodriguez corrected me. “And of course, I respect the Drakharrows. They’re an ancient and respected house.” But there was a blaze in his eyes that told me otherwise. “But pardon me if I fail to see how being intimately connected to such a powerful house is somehow to your detriment.”

“Because I don’t even want to be here,” I sputtered. “You think I want to be here? At this school? In your class? Mixing with blood-sucking vampires?”

Professor Rodriguez stared at me. “I don’t know what you and your chum Viktor Drakharrow are up to, Miss Pendragon. But there’s clearly something at play. Some dark scheme. You arrived only yesterday, or so you say, and yet you’ve been given a position most girls at this school would murder for. You seem determined to pretend you’re just another student. But you’re not. If the signs are being read right, and looking at your physique, I think they are–” He ran his eyes up and down my body and I felt my cheeks redden. Would I ever get used to that kind of scrutiny? “Then you certainly do have rider blood. A great deal of it. If Viktor Drakharrow found you and put you in Bloodwing...”

“I had the vast misfortune to be found by Blake Drakharrow not his uncle, thank you very much,” I spat.

“Viktor has always refused to believe the dragons were really gone. That the highbloods had truly lost so much power. Now it seems he has an ace up his sleeve. You.” Rodriguez’s green eyes stared at me intensely.

“But there are no dragons,” I protested. “That’s what you and everyone else has already said.”

“How do I know that’s the truth? How do any of us know?” Rodriguez’s voice was soft, but he shocked me to the core. “I just believe what I’m told. Like all of the other blightborn sheep.”