Maisie
"The Queen favours this city. Of course they get top tier security and forget all about us on the borders," one of the students from Hellsgrave said as I herded the thirteenth group–which were significantly more annoying and less impressionable than the twelveth–down the lockered hallways.
The girl on my right was staring at my collar. She had a scar that looked recent running down her left cheek and her hair was dyed blue. She was dressed like a fighter, much like the rest of the group. "You're her, aren't you? That chick wanted for murder."
I tried not to cringe. Guess I really was famous. Wait till they found out why Brownstone was attacked. I didn't doubt she'd stick those pretty daggers she carried into my gut.
"You could say so," I muttered and gestured at the training hall. "This used to be–"
"Sick," a guy whistled from behind. "If I asked for a piece of your sweet ass, would you stab me in the back, too?"
