Dispocalypse Page 9

  He popped open the box and pulled out a wooden-framed picture, and held it up as he walked slowly around the class.

  “This is an actual image of the first Lord Governor, Bedsem Vanden-Plas. Even with the world still suffering from the effects of the Great War, with humanity on the brink of extinction, you can see the nobility and purpose our first leader possessed. No one but he could have achieved what he did, eschewing the ways of old and setting our future on a different path.”

  As Mister Lido walked up and down the aisles, showing each student the ancient photograph, many glanced back and forth from the picture to Tristan. There was a definite resemblance between the two.

  Mr. Lido returned the picture to its box, then began scribbling names on the chalkboard, connected by lines.

  “We are blessed to have had an unbroken line of Bedsem Vanden-Plas’s descendants ever since, all the way down to our current Lord Governor, the honorable Lucas Vanden-Plas.”

  Willow noticed that Tristan was intently staring at his fingertips, avoiding eye contact with the rest of the class.

  Whispers surrounded them.

  “… Karl’s brother.”

  “… half-brother…”

  Willow knew what the whispers were about. She, too, had heard the story of how one of the Governor’s sons, was mothered by some merchant girl he slept with. But Willow always assumed it was just that—a story told by starry-eyed girls who wished they could have been that merchant girl. Evidently there might have been some truth to the story, and Tristan was that son.

  Of course Tristan could hear the whispers too, and his discomfort was obvious. Willow felt angry. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone?

  She touched his desk to get his attention. When he looked over at her, she mouthed the words, “I’m sorry.”

  Tristan smiled—and then winced in pain, his hand shooting to his busted lip.

  Willow laughed—then quickly clapped a hand over her mouth. Too late. The entire class was now looking at the two of them.

  Willow studiously avoided eye contact. She opened her notebook and began taking notes as Mr. Lido droned on.

  “Willow,” Tristan said behind her as she filed out of class.

  She stepped out of the line of students and turned.

  Tristan leaned in close. “Can we talk in private?” The expression on his face was uncertain, almost fearful. Which made Willow feel the same.

  She motioned for him to follow, taking the familiar path to the dormitories. At the edge of the girls’ section of the dormitory, she stopped.

  “I guess this is about as private as it gets.”

  Tristan shifted from one foot to another. He seemed unable to look her in the eye. Willow had the feeling he was being tormented by demons—and she was one of those demons.

  Normally, she wouldn’t be caught dead talking to a guy alone like this. Willow wasn’t looking to date right now, and she wouldn’t want to give him the wrong idea. But Tristan wasn’t just any guy. He couldn’t possibly be thinking of her in that way.

  Or could he?

  His nervousness was driving Willow crazy, so she broke the awkward silence. “I heard you got stitches, but I don’t see any.”

  Tristan pulled lightly at his lower lip, showing an even line of stitches running along the inside.

  “Oh! I’m so sorry…” She reached toward his face, hesitated, and pulled her hand back to her side.

  “Don’t torture yourself over it. If I hadn’t been an idiot and slipped, this wouldn’t have happened.” Tristan’s eyes sparkled. “Actually… what I wanted to ask you is…” He paused. “Could you maybe give me private lessons? My boxing is okay, but that’s not what you do. You move so smoothly, it’s almost like you’re dancing.”

  “Wait. You want me to teach you to fight?”

  Tristan nodded. “I was kind of hoping that we could do it before or after we go jogging?”

  Willow laughed. “Of course I’ll teach you.” She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

  Tristan gave her a close-lipped grin. “That’s awesome. I really appreciate it.” He tapped his toe on the floor. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

  Willow tilted her head. “I suppose…”

  “I know you know who my father is now. But you didn’t earlier, did you?”

  Willow covered her face with her hands and peeked at Tristan through her fingers. “No. I actually didn’t.”

  Tristan burst out laughing, then winced again and gingerly touched his lower lip. “Don’t you dare treat me any different than before. Please. I want you to teach me a bit of what you know, but more importantly… I’d like you to forget who my father is and just treat me like one of the guys. You know, tell me if I’m being an idiot.”

  “I’m afraid that I’m probably pretty good at that. My dad used to tell me that my inner voice sometimes shared too much with my outer voice.”

  The bell for the next class rang, and Willow’s eyes widened. “I’m late for my next class! We’ll have to set up that lesson later.” With a quick wave, she raced down the hall.

  Behind her, Tristan yelled, “Maybe tomorrow?”

  New Memphis

  Willow frowned at the posting on the cafeteria wall. It listed the top ten students in this year’s graduating class, based on their cumulative grades over their entire time at the Academy. Recently, Willow had discovered she ranked in the top five, which thrilled her. But now the rankings must have been updated, because she had dropped to sixth.

  Zeno stepped up beside her. “Why the sour face? Disappointed you’re not number one?” He chuckled.

  She jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow. “If you must know, I was hoping for the top three so I could place out of my final Choosing exam. I’ll bet you it was Mrs. Culpepper who made me drop a notch. Her and her damned embroidery.”

  Zeno snorted. “I just can’t picture you as the little woman mending clothes and darning socks.”

  “Oh, shut up. You’ll be lucky if your wife doesn’t sew your lips shut while you’re sleeping.” She gestured to the list. “Why don’t I see your name up there?”

  “Are you kidding me? I’m a soldier, not a scholar. And if you end up choosing to be a soldier, you’ll be the first soldier I’ve ever heard of who was on the honors list.”

  Willow shook her head. “Zeno, you’re not fooling me. You may act like a big oaf, but you’re not nearly as clueless as most of the guys wandering around here.”

  He winked. “Don’t tell anyone. I wouldn’t want to ruin my reputation.”

  Willow and Tristan came to a stop in a clearing. As usual, Tristan looked more than ready to keep going, but Willow had to lean against a tree, gasping for breath. She’d been practicing the breathing exercises, but not long enough to tell if they were helping. At the moment she just hoped she wasn’t going to be sick.

  Tristan paced for a bit, then stood next to her. Looking up into his soulful blue eyes, she could see that he was nervous about something.

  “Out with it,” she said. “You’ve obviously got something on your mind.”

  He sighed. “It’s only a couple weeks until the winter break. And I… I, uh…”

  Willow wanted to yell at him to just spit it out, but she bit her tongue.

  Finally, Tristan said quickly, the words spilling out, “I was wondering if you’d be willing to spend winter break with me.”

  Willow’s mouth dropped open. She couldn’t have heard him right.

  Did he just invite me to spend vacation with him… and his family?

  “You’d have your own room and stuff,” Tristan explained. “I just, I hate being at home alone, and I’m really enjoying some of the tricks you’re teaching me.”

  Willow’s mind reeled. She couldn’t stay at his house. The Governor’s house.

  And she was shocked that Tristan wanted to spend time with her outside of school. She enjoyed his company. He was fun to be with and to talk to. But…

  “Well
? What do you think?”

  Willow shook her head. “I can’t.”

  The disappointment on Tristan’s face made her throat tighten, and before she knew what she was saying, she added, “I’d much rather if you came to my place.”

  Tristan’s eyes widened and he smiled broadly. “I can do that. Heck, I’d love to do that! Would it be okay with your parents?”

  Willow couldn’t believe what she’d just done to herself. How had this happened?

  “My parents are gone now,” she said. “But my brothers will be fine with it. I’ll write them a note.”

  “That’s awesome!” Tristan grabbed her hands and gave them a gentle squeeze. “I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to this.”

  Before Willow could respond, Mr. K and a group of exhausted students came jogging into the clearing. Tristan dropped Willow’s hands, and they both looked around awkwardly, trying to ignore the embarrassing looks they were getting.

  “Race you back to the mustering grounds,” Tristan said.

  He bolted from the clearing and within moments, Willow was panting just trying to keep up with the Governor’s son.

  “He’s what?” Mel squealed. “And you’ve known this for two weeks and you’re just now telling me?”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t want anyone to know,” Willow said. “But I needed you to know why I won’t be on the wagon train tomorrow. Tristan has a horse, and he’s asked me to ride it back to my house with him.”

  Mel covered her mouth and screamed with excitement. “Oh my God, he must really like you. Do you think you’ll get to meet the Governor sometime? But you’re not a Dominion girl, is that okay with his father? Aren’t you nervous? What if he wants to marry you?”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Willow held up her hands. “It’s not like that. We’re just friends and workout partners. We don’t think about each other in that way.”

  Mel cocked an eyebrow.

  “I don’t! And he doesn’t either!” Willow desperately tried to change the subject. “And look who’s talking. I’ve seen you huddled up with that farmer boy at lunch. What’s up with him?”

  Mel shrugged. “Oh, Gus is definitely cute. And a good kisser…”

  “You didn’t.”

  Mel laughed. “It’s not like anything’s going to come of it. I may look like a farmer’s wife, but I don’t intend to be one. So there’s no harm in a kiss or two. Besides, I like him. He’s kind of funny in his own way, and some of the stories he tells are just scandalous. I wouldn’t have thought a farmer’s family had so much knowledge of the upper classes in the Dominion.”

  “Scandals within the Dominion? Really?” Willow had always been taught that the members of the governing body were beyond reproach. “Care to share?”

  A sly expression flashed across Mel’s face, but she shook her head. “I can’t. Gus’s family secrets are supposed to stay secret.”

  An envelope slid under the door, and Willow spied her name on it. She got off her bed and picked it up.

  “It’s from John. He must have gotten my letter about Tristan visiting with us.”

  She opened the letter and read aloud. “Willow, how in the world did this happen? You’re bringing the Governor’s son to our place? I’m hoping he’s okay with roughing it. We don’t exactly have fancy marble hallways or extravagant food.”

  “Oh!” Mel clapped excitedly. “I can bring all sorts of good food from my house if you like.”

  Willow waved Mel off and continued reading. “Brad and I have both missed you something fierce. We’re looking forward to seeing you soon, and of course we’ll welcome your guest as best we can. I just hope he doesn’t expect too much.”

  “I’m so excited for you.” Mel winked. “Just remember to invite me to the wedding.”

  Willow tossed the crumpled envelope at her with a smile. “Oh please, just shut up.”

  Tristan’s horse was a beautiful stallion, with chestnut-brown hair from nose to tail, except for the lower half of his legs, which were a pure white. He looked almost as if he’d been dipped in paint.

  He was also gigantic. The top of his back was higher than the top of Willow’s head. He made the other horses in the stable look like ponies.

  As Willow and Tristan approached his stall, Willow did her best to not appear intimidated in front of Tristan. But the horse’s nostrils flared as she came near, and she highly doubted that the animal, for one, was fooled by her act. She hastily took a step back.

  Tristan clicked his tongue and patted the animal’s muscular neck. The horse whinnied, its nostrils flaring.

  “Good morning, Charger. You’re excited, aren’t you? Ready to go on a trip?”

  The stallion’s head bobbed up and down, and he tapped his hoof on the ground.

  Rubbing Charger vigorously along his flank, Tristan looked back at Willow. “Come closer, Willow. I want to introduce you to my big boy. He just turned twelve only a few days ago.”

  The thought of riding on even an ordinary-sized horse frightened Willow. To ride this immense beast… that was downright terrifying.

  “Come on,” Tristan said again. “He won’t bite.”

  Willow took a few tentative steps forward. She cringed when the animal lowered his giant head to her and sniffed.

  “It’s okay,” Tristan said reassuringly. “He’s just trying to figure out who you are.”

  Willow barely suppressed a squeal of fear as the horse extended his lips and touched her cheek. They were like soft hairy fingers, probing and tickling her face.

  Tristan chuckled at her reaction. “Willow, I swear to you, he’s very gentle. No nipping or anything.”

  Letting out a deep breath, Willow raised her trembling hand and stroked the side of Charger’s head. The butterflies in her stomach nearly had a fit when the horse lowered his head even further and tilted it so the tops of his ears were within her reach.

  “That’s good!” Tristan said. “He wants you to scratch his ears.”

  Willow scratched near the base of Charger’s left ear, and he pushed against her hand, urging her to scratch even harder. Willow’s fear began to melt, and she even giggled when the horse turned to present the other side of his head, asking for more of the same.

  She turned to Tristan as she continued to pet the horse. “He really is lovely.”

  Charger snorted and bobbed his head in agreement.

  Tristan was beaming from ear to ear. “I told you he’s a good boy. Now that you two have become acquainted, are you ready to ride?”

  Willow chewed nervously on her lower lip. She wasn’t ready at all, but she’d already committed to letting Tristan take her back to New Memphis this way, so she didn’t really have much choice.

  “You’re sure he’s strong enough to carry us both?”

  Tristan laughed as he lifted his saddle. “Trust me, he won’t even notice you’re there.”

  Standing in Charger’s tremendous shadow, Willow had no trouble believing that.

  Tristan heaved the saddle onto Charger’s back and cinched it tightly. Willow looked on nervously, and the nerves that had disappeared suddenly reappeared with a vengeance.

  I’m just a merchant girl. What the hell am I doing riding a horse?

  Willow winced as she gingerly took a seat at the dinner table. The bruises along her inner thighs were matched only by the soreness of her butt. She didn’t complain aloud, but the amused looks on her brothers’ faces told her that her discomfort was obvious.

  Tristan laid a concerned hand on her back. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?”

  Willow shook her head. “I’m fine.”

  John shook his head. “Tristan, I don’t know how you managed to get my sister on a horse, but you have my gratitude. Brad and I were actually talking about getting a horse after Willow’s Choosing ceremony. We oftentimes can’t find the right materials we need for the shop in the local market, so we end up having to comb the edges of the forest for miles, looking for just the right branches. Having
a horse would speed up that process tremendously.”

  “But of course,” Brad added, “that means Willow would have to ride. Luckily, she’s ‘fine.’” He grinned.

  A knock sounded on the door, and John rose to answer it, returning a minute later with a large basket in his hands and the smell of fresh-baked bread preceding him.

  “Look what Melanie’s family has sent in honor of our guest.” He set the basket on the table and uncovered a large mound of rolls and loaves, all of them still warm. The smell of warm spices indicated that somewhere in there were some tempting sweetbreads as well, likely dripping with spiced honey.

  “That was unnecessary, but very thoughtful,” Tristan said politely. He drew in a deep breath. “Is that cinnamon and nutmeg I smell?”

  Willow nodded. “Sure is.” She grabbed one of the loaves, broke it in half, and offered some to Tristan. “Mel’s mom is one of the best bakers in New Memphis.”

  As Tristan tasted the offered bread, John retrieved a long skewer of roasted fowl from the fireplace, its skin brown and crispy. Willow was relieved to see that there was no werebit. She’d written ahead to let her brothers know that she still couldn’t bear to eat werebit meat, but she wasn’t certain until now that they’d remember.

  “Thank God,” she said, “I’m starving.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” said John. “By the looks of you, I’d say you aren’t eating nearly enough.”

  “Leave her alone,” said Brad, giving Willow a wink. “I think she looks fantastic.”

  “I’d have to agree,” Tristan said under his breath.

  Willow gave him a look of surprise that made the Governor’s son blush.