I suddenly remembered seeing Larissa in the ensemble. She’d been standing in the second row and also holding a flute.

“Naveen is more than ready for Frostfire,” I said firmly, narrowing my eyes at her. “Unlike some people, he actually earned his place in the orchestra with skill.”

I had the satisfaction of seeing my jibe hit home as Larissa’s face flushed with anger.

Gretchen looked down at me, her lips curling. “So protective of the dwarf. Why? Are you two screwing? Blake won’t like sharing with a dwarf, will he, Regan?” She laughed, but Regan, I noticed, did not. “But then, you must be used to having to look out for your little misfit friends. Especially since none of you will ever fit in here yourselves.”

Gretchen’s gaze passed over me with disdain, as if to say nothing about me was good enough to be in the same room as them. Then she looked at Naveen. “Better hope you don’t wind up in House Drakharrow next year, dwarf boy. We don’t tolerate losers like you.”

I ignored her and looked up at Regan. “I liked you better that first day of class when you were pretending to be kind. Jealousy doesn't suit you, Regan. Maybe you and your friends should focus more on your own lives rather than trying to tear everyone around you down. We all have to work together here, you know.”

Larissa and Gretchen gaped at me, while Regan’s face flitted between anger at the “jealousy” comment to confusion.

“Well, isn’t she a naive little thing?” Gretchen said finally. “Let’s go, Regan. I don't want to be seen hanging around the loser table for too long.”

“See you around, little blightborn bitch,” Larissa said, in a sing-song voice.

The two girls started walking away. Regan began to follow. I was surprised she wasn’t leading their little pack.

Maybe that was why I decided now was my chance.

Sliding off the bench, I stood up quickly. “Regan, can I talk to you alone for a minute?”

I looked down at Naveen. “I’ll be right back,” I mouthed. He nodded.

Regan hadn’t acknowledged my request. But she hadn’t walked away either.

She waited for me as I walked into the aisle, then started walking alongside her.

“What do you want?” she snapped. “Make it quick.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine. I know the Consort Games are coming up.”

She glanced at me. “Oh, you know that, do you? What else do you know about them?”

“I know we’re supposed to work together,” I said as calmly as I could. “To survive. That sounds pretty important, doesn’t it? Survival.”

She tossed her head. “I’ll survive with or without you.”

“Yes, but it doesn’t have to be without me. We could help each other. Work as a team.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I thought you didn’t want any of this.”

“If you mean Blake and being part of this little triad, then I still don’t. But I do want to live. Don’t you? Wouldn’t we be stronger if we helped one another?”

She didn’t respond. I watched her face. Was she considering what I’d said?

“I don’t know all of the details of these Games, but we’re clearly supposed to be proving ourselves. Won’t it make you, you know, look better if we work as a team? Isn’t that what Blake would want?”

Instantly, I knew I’d said the wrong thing.

Regan narrowed her eyes at me. “Why are you even still here, bitch? You play at being one of us. Always trying to get Blake’s attention. It’s pathetic. Things were better between us when you weren’t here.”

I took a deep breath and tried to keep my temper in check. “Fine. I take it that’s a ‘no.’ But there’s still time for you to change your mind. Think about it. We don’t have to like each other to work together.”

I turned and walked back to the table before she could say anything else.

I sank back down on the bench across from Naveen.

“You know, Naveen,” I said slowly. “Sometimes I think this place might actually be growing on me.”

He smiled sympathetically. “And then?”

“And then I have to talk to highbloods.”

I looked around the refectory, at the blazing fires, the greenery on the walls, the chattering students. “I mean, if I’m being honest... I love Bloodwing more than I would have thought possible. But being around all of these vampires...” I shook my head, my mind going back to the terrifying encounter I’d had with the highblood man at the brothel. To the moment Visha had shoved dirt in my face and shown me her knife. “I don’t know. Doesn’t it just make you feel weak sometimes? Powerless? Gretchen was right. We’ll never fit in. We’re not meant to.”

I half-expected Naveen to wave the highblood flag of loyalty like Florence usually did.

But instead he nodded. “All the time. Sometimes I think I made a mistake in coming here. Even if it was for a good reason.”

“Was it just because of Florence?” I asked, curious. “Or do you really want to be a scout?”

“It was mostly for Florence,” he admitted. “I could have stayed at home and been a scout for my own people. Dwarfs are blightborn, yes. But highbloods mostly leave us alone.”

“You could still leave,” I said. “No one would judge you. Well, I wouldn’t. I’m sure Florence wouldn’t either.”

He shook his head. “You can’t leave once you’ve been accepted. I mean, it’s not like I really had a choice once I got the letter, even if my girlfriend thought I did. They would probably have come for me, even if I’d tried to refuse.”

“They must have thought you had a lot of potential then,” I said, trying to be optimistic. “If they wanted you that bad.”

He shrugged. “Maybe. But they make mistakes, too. That’s why so many First Years wind up getting kicked out. It’s a make us or break us thing, the first year here. And sometimes I don’t know if I’m going to make it.”

I looked at him in surprise, suddenly wishing I hadn’t brought up this subject. “Of course you are, Naveen. Look at you, you’re doing great. You have a solo in the ensemble. A highblood is jealous of you. Jealous of a blightborn!”

“Maybe that should make me feel great. But honestly, I kind of wish they’d given the solo to Larissa,” he said darkly.

“You don’t really mean that,” I said, shocked. “What would Florence say?”

“Florence is going to make it through the academy and be a brilliant highblood prize. She will always fight for them, Medra. No matter what she sometimes says. She looks up to them and always will.” Naveen dropped his voice and leaned closer. “If she’d been in your position, she’d have been thrilled.”

“What do you mean?” I shifted on the bench, suddenly uncomfortable.

“I mean she’d love to be a consort,” he said sadly. “I’m sure of it. She wouldn’t want someone like me. She has too much ambition for that.”

“You could become a brilliant scout,” I said loyally. “Like Professor Stonefist. For all I know I’m sitting across from the next Grimblade.”

He gave me a wry smile. “Sure. But I doubt it.”

“Don’t be so sure, Naveen. You probably didn’t think you were going to get into the Bloodwing Ensemble. Or get that flute solo,” I said, suddenly losing my temper with him a bit. “But you did. Have some confidence in yourself. If you want to win Florence’s heart, I promise you, that’ll help more than anything else.”

He studied me. “Maybe you’re right.”

“I am,” I said resolutely.

I knew I was right. I was pathetically, pitifully right. I knew that from personal experience. Confidence was attractive. And arrogance? Well, it turned out sometimes that was even better.

Hating someone didn’t mean you could take your eyes off them. Which was why I couldn’t take my eyes off Blake Drakharrow even though I knew what an asshole he was. He was the walking, talking embodiment of highblood haughtiness. And I was the pathetic girl who’d been secretly sneaking glances at him this entire time.

He hadn’t looked at me once.

Unable to help myself, I turned my head and glanced over at the Drakharrow table. It was mostly empty now. Only Blake and Visha remained. They were talking. Did it matter about what?