They steered Mom toward a table in the corner, and I sat back down, taking a deep breath. Once I was sure my family was out of earshot, I leaned into Saylor. “That’s why we have to do things my way. I have a family here. Friends. A life. I have to keep those things. I have to make it through this as—as normally and inconspicuously as possible.”

Saylor raised one perfectly groomed brow at me. “And how exactly do you plan to ‘inconspicuously’ stop this Blythe from doing a spell on David at Cotillion?’”

“I’ll . . . figure it out,” I said, shooting a glance at my mom and The Aunts. Aunts May and Martha were arguing over the tea list, and Aunt Jewel was regaling Mom with a story that apparently required a bunch of hand gestures. Watching them, a wave of affection washed over me. “There has to be a way to keep me not killed, keep David un-bespelled, and still live my own life.”

If Saylor Stark were the type of woman who chewed her lip, I think she would have at that moment. As it was, she tapped her teaspoon against her saucer. “I’ll put up more wards around the town, wards geared specifically toward you. Of course, that won’t do you any good the night of Cotillion, if David’s vision is anything to go by. And you have to train with me. At my house, every day.”

“Train how?” I asked, thinking again of Blythe and the letter opener. What training would’ve prepared me for that? “Do you know how to fight? I mean, no offense, Miss Saylor, but you aren’t a Paladin. And you don’t exactly seem like the . . . fighting type.”

Saylor leaned back in her seat, raising one silver eyebrow. “You’re right, I’m not a Paladin. But I worked next to one for nearly thirty years, and I was there with Christopher when he trained under the Ephors. Now, if that isn’t good enough for you, you’re welcome to go to the judo classes at the community center.”

Chastened, I poured another cup of tea. “I’m sorry. I’d . . . I’d love to train with you, Miss Saylor, but every day—”

“We only have three weeks,” Saylor interrupted, sitting up straight. “And that is not nearly enough time to get you ready for something like this.”

“Trust me,” David said. “If anyone can handle pressure, it’s Pres.”

I appreciated his vote of confidence, but Saylor was right—three weeks was nothing.

On the other hand, three weeks was nothing. I could do this. I could find some way to balance my regular life with my Paladin responsibilities. Maybe all those other Paladins gave up their lives to protect Oracles, but they probably weren’t as good at organizing and multitasking as I was.