Chapter 138: From the Lady Fairfield



Gold white luminescence glowed in the aftermath of Ravenna's big reveal, and for fifteen minutes straight in the canteen hall, the space was lit in saintly halo, pulsing out the glass windows; ebbing with saintly energy like a lamp in a dark room.

Residue of celestial mana spilt out to the plastic doors in front and the chefs nook to the side. As the boys were walking back the girls to their own various dorm rooms, Ravenna sidled in next to Rafel and said, "Just so you know, I don't need protection. But I welcome your chivalry."

"It ain't chivalry. It's an oath. A demon's oath." He replied. There wasn't the trace of a smile on his face.

The group fell silent for a beat then, wandering the long, quiet, stone archways of the academy. The other pupils would soon begin to return from their acolyte sessions. Rosa vanished off at an intersect into the crook of small chapel. Several hands in the circle of faithful were raised to the Martyr. They were murmuring.

Rafel himself was godless. The gods many of his classmates worshipped were his close relatives and personal friends.

The water goddess, Yemaya was his wife.

Rafel knew that praying to himself would probably tear the sheet on narcissism. He remained by that tiny chapel's door until Rosa too joined the church of the Martyr. The [Martyr] was the God the realms served—at least enough who believed. And their source was headquartered at Titans Landing, in the cathedral tower of the highfather.

Percival, Rafel, Aya, and Ravenna kept walking on.

"The day is yet young, what might we do?" said Percival.

Everyone was silent for a bit, before Ravenna hopped in front of the others. She pronounced her suggestion. "Oh I know! How about a picnic?"

"A picnic, babe? I don't know." Aya said. "The air outside is flat."

Ravenna wasn't backing down. Her green eyes held ebullience. "Yes, a picnic! The weather's good. It's nice out today. Most people are sleeping in after last night's Hallows fest.

It'll be perfect to bond, just like we used to at Emberfall. Maybe we could find a lute and persuade our liege here to serenade us to a folk one, huh?" Enjoy new adventures from m-v l'e|-novelhall.net

She nudged Rafel with a smile. "Perhaps a song out of you too, Aya. It's been a while since I've heard you two play, and I don't know a single opera house that makes the kind of music you two do. Besides," she shrugged, "the air is only flat if we let it.

We have a wizard of Griffin Arc in our circle, don't we?" Ravenna put up her dark brows meaningfully at Percival.

The rugged blond Royal smiled eagerly, "Oi! Does the damsel ask me to manipulate the wind?"

"I mean it's right up your alley."

"Yeah," Percival agreed. "It is."

"Oh well! Would you look at that! So cute. A minute away from an orgy now, aren't we?"

Rafel stopped tickling the girls and raised his amber eyes. It leveled on the smashing blonde interruption. He growled out his dislike. "Erika, this is a private moment."

"Yeah. Do you mind?" Rosa sat up in Rafel's lap and fired.

Erika Burgess only laughed and whirled back her waves of strawberry hair. "Oh please, I'm the student president. I'm entitled. . .to all private spaces on the school grounds. If you wanted PRIVATE, you shoulda used your dorm rooms.

Anyway," she dropped a manicured hand to her waist, "I came here to personally deliver to you a Sabbath dinner invite—"

"Let me just stop you there, Madame President." It was Rosa. "As you can see, we've got our own thing going on. Go find someone else to crush on."

"Oh hold your horses, islander!" Erika pushed back. "The invite's not mine. And I certainly have no crush on this...mundane group of yours." Her eyes slid like a serpent to Rafel, "—well, maybe one of you," she corrected.

Rosa clicked her hands in front of Erika to focus her. "Well, the invite's from whom then?"

"From the Lady Fairfield."

"The Lady Fairfield!?" Aya, Ravenna, and Rosa gasped as one.

"Yes." Erika tweaked her long nails. "I know what you're all thinking; like, isn't that the Grand Duchess of Roanoke?

Yes, she is.

For some reason, the Lady of the most expensive island on the lands of Corynthia has requested your presence; each one of you. And she has graciously provided her lovely yatch, the SILVER MAY, to ferry you to her villa on her private island."

"Damn!" Percival spoke out of turn. "Lady Fairfield is the only woman to solely own an entire isle."

"The only PERSON," Erika corrected. "See you losers there. Oh, and wear something fashionable, please! Gosh!" She flipped her long blonde hair as she sashayed away.

Rafel dipped to whisper into the sweep of Rosa's neck, against her bronze skin. "How the hell is she among the Children of the Crow?"

Rosa replied, "You will also be surprised to know that she is also a firm believer in the Martyr."

Ravenna turned a wry eye to the unfinished bottle of wine and tubs of little biscuits. She sighed audibly. "I guess the picnic's over now. We've got to prepare for Lady Fairfield's damn yacht."