on. You lot are supposed to be smart. Give me an answer?”
“The Merchant’s Guild?”
Instructor Dawn laughed. “Wrong answer, even though it is true that, collectively, they make more money than the king himself. Now, think again.”
The students began to murmur among themselves; some began to open books as if searching for the answer.
The instructor shook his head. “You won’t find it in any textbook. Let me give you a hint. When you go into town, you see them, you walk among them, most times you probably ignore them, and most of you are them.”
Something clicked in Britea’s mind. “The common people.” From the corner of her eye, she saw Lianne glare at her.
Instructor Dawn clapped. “And at last, one bright mind amongst the dullards speaks. Yes, it’s the common people, and why is that?”
Britea thought fast as she recalled a quote she had read in an old book in the library about revolutions. “Those that are ruled may not have wealth or property, but they possess two things their rulers should never take for granted: discontent and numbers. One may suppress them or murder them, but combine their thirst for revenge with their overwhelming majority, and you get the perfect recipe for a bloody revolution.”
The instructor raised an eyebrow. “Ah, someone’s been reading the memoirs of Helia Weldrass. Can anyone tell me who that is and why she’s important?”
“The rebel leader who caused the Great Civil War of 399 AC, which led to the splitting of the Olderian Empire into the Kingdom of Namira to the south and the Republic of Malaquey to the north,” answered Britea once again.
The instructor grinned. “This one is quick on her feet. Don’t get left behind class. Now, I know this isn’t your history class. But, to know how our current government works, you need to know this fundamental truth. Never take for granted the power of a mob. When Helia protested the plight of the working class, she led a mob that later grew into a well-trained army. That’s how they brought down an empire.”
He looked at each student before continuing. “As our nation grows, our leaders have tried to keep in mind that the common people need to be taken seriously…always. If, for instance, a wielder didn’t adhere to the Creed and attacked civilians, there would be nothing stopping those same civilians from storming and burning this college to the ground.”
He paused to let his words sink in.
“In three to four years, some of you will be on your Year of Discovery. That’s when you need to be on your guard and be on the best behavior of your life.”
Britea wondered if Lianne even knew what the word meant.
“Now, will someone apart from Novice D’Tranell explain what our government is?”
“It’s a constitutional and democratic monarchy,” replied Henrick.
“Meaning?” Instructor Dawn searched the class.
“While the title to the throne is inherited, it’s not guaranteed unless the elected governors and ministers agree with the monarch’s selection of the heir,” answered another student.
“Exactly. Some of you are wondering why I’m bringing this up. Well, that’s because in exactly one month, we will witness the election for the local minister for the district of Syla.”
Britea’s eyes widened.
“That’s right. Our district. This class is going to be at the ballot boxes to observe democracy at work, something our neighbors in Namira still lack. Now, I see disinterest in some of your faces, which is why I am declaring this exercise an assessment. Anyone not at the election site will fail this class.”
There were cries of dismay at this. Britea tried to hide her smile as Lianne complained loudly that she had plans. The instructor was unperturbed.
“Furthermore, after I’ve confirmed your presence at the polling station, you will each write an essay of nothing less than twelve thousand words on how it impacted you.”
“What?!” yelped a student behind a stunned Britea. “How are we going to write that much? There isn’t much to write about elections!”
Instructor Dawn’s smile was serene. “Then you better find something. Now, let’s discuss how the far-off districts and towns govern without the eye of the Malaquey court on them.”
#
“Take one step forward! Look at your partner. Curtsy slowly.” Britea felt her lower back and knees ache as she tried to copy the dance instructor.
“No, no D’Tranell! You need to appear as graceful as a swan,” chided Instructor Helene Droye before moving away to check on another pair of students.
“Or stay as awkward as a cow,” commented Lianne, standing opposite Britea. The words were met with snickers while Britea went hot with embarrassment.
“What was that you said, Lady Arkei?” asked the instructor airily.
“I was just saying how hard Britea has been working to learn this particular move,” lied Lianne smoothly as she gracefully turned and curtsied.
The instructor nodded, approval on her face. “See how clean that move was Britea? You would never find a more perfect dance partner than Lady Arkei. I see placing you beside her was the best idea. Learn all you can from her.”
Lianne returned the instructor’s smile with an innocent, wide-eyed expression.
Britea forced herself not to glare at the teacher. Of all the classes, this was her least favorite. One, she thought it was wholly unnecessary, and two, Lianne was the instructor’s pet and could do no wrong. It was here Lianne was at her most cruel because Britea was her partner. It had been clear from the beginning that dancing at court was a far cry from dancing at village-square parties. Britea wished she had protested when Instructor Droye had asked Lianne to teach Britea. At first, she had been stunned when the noble had accepted, then that had turned to dismay when the cruel pranks had begun. Lianne would teach her a dance move, and when Britea performed it, the other students would laugh at her because she did it incorrectly.
Because Lianne had taught her the wrong steps.
She dared not report her to the dumb instructor, so she tentatively asked Danai to teach her how to dance. Danai agreed and even got Navos and Lexia to help. So now Britea was stuck continuing to pretend Lianne was teaching her how to dance.
Britea glanced at the large chronometer on the wall. Twenty-five minutes to go, then a twenty-minute recess before her junior wielding class. By the Maker, she wished she was there already!
“Worried about your next class, peasant?” asked Lianne with a cruel smile.
Britea swallowed back the angry retort. “We all have places to be soon.” She willed the clock to move faster.
“Oh, is that so?” Lianne’s eyes glittered. “I heard a strange rumor about your wielding.”
Britea barely caught herself from stumbling. “What?”Oh no, she knows about Kahl.
“I hear you’re stuck in the junior classes because you still can’t wield even a tier-one form.” Lianne waited for a reaction. Her eye’s narrowed when Britea didn’t say a word.
“Are you deaf as well as stupid? Did you not hear what I just said?”
Britea blinked. She had been so relieved the rumor was about her junior class that she hadn’t realized she was supposed to be upset. “Oh, that. Uh…yes, I’m in that class.”
Lianne glared at her, clearly unhappy with her reaction. “So, what are you doing there?”
“You’d have to ask Instructor Shelley,” Britea saw Lianne go a bit pale. Ah, so the noble did fear someone . “I’m