“Yes, thank you!” I chime in as I scoop some golden butter onto my knife.

The door clicks closed and Layla’s eyebrows push together.

“What?” I say as I chew.

Layla sips her tea. “Are you always that friendly with people you don’t know?”

“Actually…yeah,” I say. I would tell her that she sounds like my dad commenting on me being too trusting, but that would be violating rule number one.

“Well, don’t be,” she says.

I wipe my mouth with my napkin and take a good look at her. “Pippa seems sweet. And don’t you think it has to suck to take care of a bunch of secretive people out in the middle of nowhere in some castle with no electricity? I’m sure she would appreciate a kind word or two.”

Layla pauses like she’s not sure what to make of me. “All Strategia serve their Families in one way or another, November. No one gets a pass. And besides, Pippa won’t be here for more than a few years unless she chooses to be.”

I pause, my bread halfway to my mouth, and my skin starts to prickle. I’ve definitely heard that word before. “So Pippa’s Strategia?” I say, trying to make the word sound casual and natural.

“Yes. Everyone in the Academy is Strategia—the professors, kitchen staff, guards, the people who tend to the animals. You didn’t think we would allow a non-Strategia to be here, of all places, did you?” She looks at me incredulously.

“No, I guess not,” I say. Not only does she think I know what Strategia are, but if she’s claiming everyone in this school is one, then where does that leave me? I pour myself some tea, trying to figure out how to ask her to define it without putting a spotlight on myself. “There’s no technology taught in this school.” Assassins and spies need tech. “Why is that?”

Layla shrugs. “Waste of time. We only get four years here. We can learn tech skills at home. And it’s not really a priority when everyone has tech specialists in their Family.”

Tech specialists, compulsory work for the Families, the Council of Families that Layla mentioned last night, and whatever the students are…It’s sounding like these Families are self-governed, self-reliant, and powerful.

Layla gives me an odd look. “Now hurry up and drink your tea. We’re still going to the dining hall to meet Ash.”

“Do we need to bring textbooks or something for class?” I ask as we head down the stairs. Our entire day yesterday was eaten up with tours, assessment, and visiting various class options. But we never actually participated in one.

Layla shakes her head. “With the exception of poisons class, most of the advanced students don’t use textbooks or take notes; we learn.”

I follow her through the foyer and out into the vine courtyard. “What does that mean?”

“Why are you constantly asking me what things mean?” she says, still giving me the suspicious look she adopted over morning tea. “I wouldn’t do that in front of other people if I were you.”