Lord of Leaves (Wild Hearts Book 2) by Nazri Noor

Author:Nazri Noor [Noor, Nazri]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-10-27T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

I twiddled my thumbs, swallowing the thick lump in my throat. Even an evening of fun with Sylvain — followed by some exceptional sex and a wonderful night’s sleep — hadn’t prepared me for this. I slid left, then right, shifting to find a non-painful position for my poor butt on the horribly uncomfortable wooden bench.

The Wispwood came with its many luxuries, but it also had more dangerous and certainly more draining places. The Housing Office was one of them. No, the Housing Office was number one among them, for me, personally.

I would take ten minutes locked in a room with Evander Skink over a trip to the Housing Office. Hell, give me ten minutes of awkward, silent torture in the same room with Belladonna Praxis, even. Anything but the awful, mandatory wait that Roberta Smothers imposed on her victims.

Sorry, I said victims, didn’t I? Because that was how it felt each time I came to discuss what I owed for my bedchambers and my meals, the latter of which had doubled since Sylvain had arrived. Throw in extra for Satchel now, too. I’d grown to like Sylvain a lot — a lot, a lot — and Satchel was kind of warming up to me as well, so I didn’t entirely mind shelling out extra for my boys. But that would all make more sense if I had any extra to shell out to begin with.

“Five more minutes,” I mouthed to myself, staring hard at the numbers on my phone’s home screen.

A sign in bold print helpfully reminded students that phones weren’t allowed there, not that mine had any use beyond serving as an overpriced timepiece. Something about the room blocked all service, whether it was cellular or wi-fi access, like the Housing Office was committed to making its visitors miserable in more ways than one.

The waiting was always the worst. And why was I forced to wait when I could see Roberta right there in her wood-paneled box, through the glass with the little hole that muffled voices both ways? Sucking on mints like they owed her money, glaring at me down the bridge of her nose.

No. That ten-minute wait was clearly all about power, a humbling reminder to even the most talented and powerful of aspiring young mages. Everyone who studied at the Wispwood still had to answer to the Housing Office — to Roberta Smothers.

Roberta Smothers fenced herself off from the rest of the Wispwood like she was sitting on eldritch secrets, protecting the entrance to the underworld. She was the beast who guarded the gates, like Cerberus or Garm, only with tiny gold-rimmed glasses and a gaudy embroidered sweater vest that seemed to change with the seasons.

Roberta Smothers was either eighty years old or a thousand, depending on who you asked. And they would never replace her because she really, really was astoundingly good at her job. Almost supernaturally so, which wouldn’t be all that surprising considering where we were, a magical forest academy.

The doubt arose from how she was the only person in her entire department.

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