COBALT: The Sovereign's Stratagem (Book Two)

Chapter 5: Cursimian Roulette (Part 5/5)

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Woop woop, I'm back~

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          Káel bounced on the corner of a coverless bed. He hadn't visited Ms. Metulas since Talli accidentally knocked him out during one of their last practice. The room looked a little cleaner than usual, a violet flower in a yellow clay pot sitting snug by the window as a new addition to the space. Being in the room so much to notice things like that was one of the many reasons he hated training with Lightwood.

          He perked as the door opened and Ms. Metulas walked up to him, eyes narrowed as she gave him a once-over. "You break something I can't see?"

          Káel shook his head, pulling up his bangs to flaunt the crusted red swell on the side of his head. He smiled as she sucked in a sharp breath. "Skyfell wants a damage assessment before I meet the Council."

          "A damage assessment," she replied, clipping back the locke of hair in her way to get a better look. She gave the cut a drained hum, tapping the dalem bracelet hugging his wrist. "You're gonna have to take those cuffs off sweetie, they're the ones that block magic and Lumience."

          "Right," Káel laughed, quickly sliding them off his wrists and placing them on the counter. "I don't think Cursimian has a problem with you."

          "Has he let go of your arm yet?"

          Káel shook his head, pulling up his sleeve to flaunt the black bracer.

          "You truly are an oddball magnet," she mused, tracing a cooling spell over the cut so Káel didn't shrink away from the disinfectant. "Perhaps you should stay away from secret rooms Mr. Aeric, and practice your play lines instead."

          Káel grimaced, remembering the thick stack of lines Sora had dropped on him for a role he definitely didn't apply for. The prince of dragons wasn't exactly the star of the show, but he didn't shut up enough to count as a side either. "About that. I was really hoping for less lines."

          "Less?" Ms. Metulas said, pressing the cut in tune to her tone as she smiled him down. "What role did you have in mind?" 

          "I don't know..." Káel winced as she plastered a small cutting of gauze over her finished work. He checked the room for inspiration, the sketched diagram of a black tranthis sufficing. "A tree?"

          She shot out a small laugh, the idea incredulous as she grabbed her small notebook and started scribbling away. "Minor concussion, hairline fracture, and of course a gouge caused by blunt force." She ripped the paper out of the journal, handing it off to Káel with a smile. "No permanent damage with regular healing, so I'll expect to see you at rehearsals Prince of Dragons."

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          Káel teetered on his chair, sick from watching Buckethead's teary act for the last five minutes. His only regret in breaking his nose was how the giant white bandage holding it together made him look more pitiful for Mrs. Floyd as she loomed over the table like a hungry vulture. Káel gave a dead stare as Buckethead jutted his finger at him. "I don't feel safe anymore, he's attacked me twice now."

          "Twice?" Káel growled, biting his tongue when he felt Skyfell tap his shoulder. 

          "Before we continue, I would like to note that we have Lady Samanthra, a Council appointed judge, and Miss Ariabella present. What exactly is the intent of this meeting?" Mr. Skyfell said, the disappointment in his tone filling his eyes as he watched Mr. Greine across the table, scribbling into his notebook. "Mr. Greine?"