“After the first month, if I determine that you are all sufficient enough, we’ll move into training with your dragons. As well as a full slot of classes to prepare you to take your place as a government official in Alandria. The three main areas will be: government, philosophy, and history. Everyone takes one elective: maths, literature, or languages.”

Roake scoffed.

Alura arched an eyebrow. “Have something to say, Brevard?”

“No, sir.”

“Spit it out. You know you want to,” she said lethally.

It was not an invitation. Though he took it as one.

“You expect us to take four classes and train with our dragon? When will we have the time, sir?”

“No,” she said with a smile that said this would be unpleasant. “I want you to take four classes, train with your dragon, weapons, and magic, and keep up your workouts.”

“All at once?” he gasped.

“One in three dropout rate,” she reminded him, and he snapped his mouth shut.

Alura stared at them, as if waiting for someone else to talk out of turn. But none of them said anything. She could have heard a pin drop, as they’d all stopped breathing under her scrutiny. The next year was going to be plain torture.

“At the end of your year training, if you make it,” she taunted, “you will earn the title of Master or Mistress. Only then can you turn in your training robes for full Society robes.” She caressed her own robe around her dark shoulders. “Only then can you join our ranks. So, let’s begin.”

Kerrigan fell to her knees on the edge of the training room. Sweat poured down her face, and she had the distinct impression that she was going to be sick.

“Get up,” Fordham barked at her.

“I need a minute to breathe.”

“Alura is going to make you run the lap again if you don’t get moving. One foot in front of the other, halfling.” He flung the stupid nickname at her to get her moving.

She jerked back to her feet. “I hate you, princeling.”

He snapped a smile at her. “I know. Now, let’s finish this lap. You can run faster than this.”

She could.

She had in the past—when she was running for her life. But there was nothing chasing her here, except disappointment and possible expulsion.

If she hadn’t used up all of her energy, trying to take down that stupid wall, she would have been keeping up just fine. Fordham wasn’t even breathing hard. It made her look like an amateur. An amateur who didn’t belong here.