His chin juts out and his nostrils flare—not one but two indicators that he wants to hurt me. Brendan might not have tried to kill me with his bare hands thus far, but it’s obvious he wants me dead, and now I’m wondering if I inadvertently stumbled onto the reason he and his friends went after me so aggressively. I glance at the small gap between him and the table. If I make a move now, it won’t end well. But I also can’t stand here; he knows I’m leaving and he has every reason to want to incapacitate me, even if it does earn him a punishment.

I make a flash decision and take the only other option available—I slip into his empty chair. I don’t dare look back at him. Instead, I scoop some mashed potatoes onto his clean plate.

“How’s it going?” I say casually to the guys he was chatting with, who all stare at me, unsure, which I’m fairly certain is the Strategia version of shock.

I keep a close watch on the guy directly across from me as he shifts his attention to Brendan. By the way the guy’s eyes move down and the slight pressure I feel on my chair, I’m pretty sure Brendan just gripped the back of it. If he yanks the chair backward, there is no way I won’t fall on my butt.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I say with a mouth full of garlic mashed potatoes. “There is an entire table of teachers keeping close watch on this room, and if I go flying onto the floor—which I will make sure I do—it will look like you started a fight.”

“Do you imagine I care if they think I started a fight?” he says with an arrogant tone, and he’s so close to the back of my head that the hair on my neck stands up.

“I do, actually,” I say without turning around. “Because the one thing no one’s been able to figure out about me is how I did what others couldn’t—get into this school at seventeen. Maybe I have more influence than you think. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll use that influence to make your stay in the dungeon particularly unpleasant.” It’s a gamble. I’m banking on the assumption that he’s never been sent to the dungeon, considering he’s practically catered to at this school. And if I’m right, he probably fears it more than most. “Now as you said, if we get in a fight, I’m out of here. But you?”

I feel his grip on the chair tighten and hear him suck in a deep breath.