The Sixth Life of Medusa

29. Hide Your Cards

"What kingdom?" Medusa retrieved the needle sitting next to her stone slab and observed it.

Judging from Eristes' silence, her question must have stunned him. The child. If she combined the years she'd lived, she'd qualify to be his ancestor more than thrice over.

"How... how dare you?" he sputtered, aether flaring around him. Some students glanced in their direction but none was bold enough to openly stare. Interesting. He was a prince, just as Chilion claimed, and a feared one at that.

"Later," Medusa said as she took in the intricate markings on the needle. "You can educate me on this kingdom of yours later." She made a mental note to ask Vaso to change her sitting position after the class.

Ignoring the seething boy, she glanced around. Most of the students wrote on scrolls but a few used stone slabs. She wondered what qualified her to get a slab. Was it a new student thing? A skill she must figure out on her own?

Curious, Medusa poured a thin stream of aether into the needle and attempted to write a line across the slab. It flowed naturally like a hot knife through butter. Nice.

She had just attempted to write another line when she felt it. A sudden vice grip around her right wrist. She hissed from the pain.

"What?" Eristes cocked his head in question. "Do I have your attention now?"

In a moment of burning rage, Medusa considered destroying the dimension and unleashing the bees on him, but she discarded the emotional idea. Not only was she incapable of controlling the bees, it made better sense to hide such a card.

"One of the attributes the Western Locratian kingdom looks for in blood carriers is subservience." As he spoke he increased the pressure around her wrist; her fingers turned red and began to tremble. "Even though you obviously lack that, I'm willing to give you an offer. Join our ranks."

His boldness was no surprise. Over the years, a few Western Locratia royals had ascended as low deities, and the kingdom's influence, both in commerce and the military, was not something to be scoffed at. That Medusa presented herself as the daughter of Venetis, a common name with no weight, meant arrogant scums like Eristes will see her as easy picking.

"I heard you're the daughter of some unknown merchant." A condescending smile brightened his face. "My kingdom is a foremost beneficiary of House Plutus; joining us will help your family business."

You think I give a damn about that? Medusa's left fist tightened around the needle. "And if I refuse your generous offer?"

The beaded band around her wrist grew warm, and though it kept her wrist from shattering, it barely stopped the pain.

"For an unawakened nobody, you are quite bold." He frowned as his gaze roved over her face. "And you handle pain well." Now he didn't even bother whispering. At least two rows ahead should be in on their conversation, and if Vaso was worth his salt, he should be aware of Eristes' blatant bullying. But the instructor continued his lesson, acting like nothing was happening at the back.

"Let go," Medusa said through clenched teeth. The needle felt hot in her grip as she pumped in aether in increments of her rising pain and anger. Some bullies only understood force; Eristes seemed like the type who would greatly benefit from a sound lesson in that area.

"I will let go if you agree to join my faction," he said.

Making up her mind, Medusa raised her hand.

Eristes chuckled. "What are you doing? You think the instructor will save you?"

Ignoring him, Medusa kept her hand up.