The Half-Class by Kayvion Lewis
Chapter Twelve
The night was beautiful. A thousand stars dotted the sky above us. With no clouds in sight, the full moon beamed down unabated. Although I often found myself riding through the night, so rarely did I ever stop to take note of the beauty it held. Then again, not all nights could have been as lovely as this one. It was a perfect night. A perfect night to fall in love.
Or to pretend to fall in love.
I trotted out of the trees and into the spacious riding fields. Kat reined in at my side. Countless lantern lights danced around the clearing as if a few of the stars had fallen from the sky.
In the center of the field, a set of horses, guided only by the lanterns bouncing at their sides, raced across the well-trodden grass. Dozens of spectators, basking in their own lantern light, lined the edges of the field. Well, some were spectating. Others appeared to be wholly entranced in games, conversations, or entire meals they’d brought with them and sprawled out over blankets. When Kat and I were very little, Auntie Jen would bring us out here some nights to eat and watch the races. It was probably the worst place for two little girls, but we had so much fun.
“Do you see him?” Kat stopped next to me as we entered behind a row of spectators. “The prince?” My attention hopped from lantern to lantern,
surveying each figure I could make out. “Not yet. Do you see Luke?”
“No. Perhaps neither are here yet. The sun only set an hour ago.”
I clutched my reins. We weren’t that early. At least one of them had to be here. I scanned the field again, from the forest’s edge all the way to the tethered horses and riders at the other side of the field. I saw him. Not Luke nor Cass, but another recognizable shape. His shoulder-length dreads trembled as he spoke enthusiastically with another figure.
“Found him—not Luke.” I looked back to Kat. “Do you think you could stay around here? Whenever Luke shows up, he’ll have to come through on this trail.”
“Sure.” She dismounted Shadow, looking as elegant as ever in her midnight blue riding dress. “I’ll be the perfect sentry.”
I nodded and trotted off towards the other edge of the field. Donnie stopped talking and beamed at me as I reigned in. Less than a moment later, Cass spun around too.
“So, you didn’t get lost,” I said, looking at Cass. “That’s too bad. I’d already packed for my adventure to find you.”
“Entirely due to Donnie, I promise.”
Donnie’s eyes narrowed as he glanced from Cass to me. I swung down from Butter. “I haven’t the slightest clue what I’m being blamed for,” he said, “but I’ve come to accept that when someone tells me I’m to fault for something, it’s usually true.”
“I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight, Donnie.” I led Butter down to a nearby free tethering post, pleased to see that Cass couldn’t help but follow
“He invited himself,” Cass said. Donnie trailed nonchalantly behind him.
“Sometimes that’s the only way to get places,” Donnie said.
I unraveled the lead rope and used it to tie Butter’s reins to the post. As my hands worked on the knot, my gaze temporarily fell across the field. I saw Kat across the way, but she wasn’t alone anymore. She and a companion were chatting near the tree line. Was that Luke?
It was too dark to see. I’d just have to trust she was doing her job. “And Jasper?” I asked, turning back to my own conversation. “Did he invite himself, as well?”
Cass blanched. “No, he didn’t.” That was a small thorn out of my side.
“Well, I’m more than happy to see you here, Donnie.” A new question popped into my mind. “Donnie—is that short for Donnet? Or Donnavan?”
A wide grin swept across Cass’s face, and his eyes widened with amusement. He grabbed his friend’s shoulder. “Yes, Donnie. Remind us. What is your official name?”
Now I really wanted to know what Donnie was short for.
“Well, it’s…” Donnie shifted his weight, looking down at his boots, then sighed. “Donestan…”
“That’s not so bad,” I started.
“Donestan David Doneuulad…” He glanced back to Cass, who wasn’t even trying to hold back his grin. “The fourth.”
I broke into giggles and covered my mouth to stifle it. “Your parents were so cruel.”
“Three generations have come and gone, yet no one decided to put an end to that cruelty,” Cass said.
“It’s a tradition.” Donnie shook his head. “Every first son bestows his first son with this curse so that he’ll know his father’s pain. It’s a shameful circle.”
“And one day, you’ll bestow Donestan Doneuulad the fifth with that same curse,” I said.
Donnie straightened. “Only if I must.”
Cass’s smile faded. Was there more seriousness to this matter than I understood?
“Now that my true name has been shamefully revealed, I’ll take my leave.” Donnie straightened the cuffs of his coat, this one made of black velvet and embossed with sparkling silver brocade. He glanced back to a string of lights floating just past the forest edge. “I’m going to make an acquaintance with persons who don’t know the truth about me.”
“Don’t have too much fun,” Cass told him.
Donnie lifted a hand toward us but didn’t look back.
“You’re going to race tonight, aren’t you?” My eyes dropped to Cass’s feet and the unscuffed, rustic brown boots he wore. They weren’t so different from my own. Actually, in my riding pants and chemise, Cass and I looked quite similar.
“I was considering it.” A thunder of hooves taking off across the field drew our attention to a new race taking off not too far from us. “But the competition looks steeper than I expected.”
“Are you doubting your own ability, Cass?”
“Judging myself honestly.” The storm of horses and riders disappeared into the part of the race trail that wound into the trees. “I used to ride when I was a boy, but that was more out of obligation than desire—Definitely not due to talent.”
“Once a rider, always a rider,” I said. “And didn’t someone tell you just the other night that you need to have more faith in yourself? Someone incredibly wise, intelligent, and beautiful, I believe?”
“I think what you said was I ‘needed to have faith in my hand.’ And my hands are currently devoid of cards.”
“Then find some.” I took his arm and led him from the tethered posts. “Metaphorically, I mean.” Cass frowned. I clarified. “I mean, in something like a game of cards, you have to have faith in your hand because you’ve risked something on it. You bet something, and that provides motivation. You just need to—"
“Make a gamble, so I’m forced to play?”
“Exactly. Just think of what you could win, and you’ll be dying to race—whether you think you can win or not.”
“Hmm.” Cass ran a hand through his dark hair, which appeared even blacker under the night. “What if I needed something besides coins to inspire me to race?”
“Like?” Now that I was thinking about it, I suppose Cass had no real need for gold or silver. But I’d hoped I could convince him to ride with me by request alone. Racing is always more fun when a friend is competing at your side. The last couple of times I came to the races, Luke took it upon himself to be my partner. And, of course, comradery always nourishes trust, which was just what I needed from him.
“What if we make our own gamble?” he asked.
His arm tensed under my hand.
“I’m listening.” Where was he going with this?
“I’ll race with you,” he began, “and if you win, I’ll let you keep my copy of volume twenty-one.”
My heart beat a little faster. If anything could tempt me as much as silver, it was that. “And if you win?”
We stopped, and he turned to look down at me. “If I win...then, I get to kiss you.”
I froze while he shifted from one foot to the other. In our own small portion of the field, the moonlight and wayward lantern light lit him perfectly. His green eyes had just the right amount of sparkle in them, mixing adorably with the nervous apprehension in them. I certainly wasn’t expecting Cass to propose this, and he looked like he wasn’t expecting to himself. But it didn’t make sense. If he wanted to kiss me, he could have done it last night. Unless he changed his mind over the course of a day.
The idea of kissing him now still didn’t feel right. What would it mean to give my first kiss to the son of the man who’d ruined my life and the lives of so many others? If Gilow hadn’t set me on this path, it would surely be treasonous. Being given “permission” by my leader shouldn’t have changed the core of it. No matter how kind Cass was, he was supposed to be the enemy. What kind of rebel feels okay with kissing the enemy?
Perhaps things would feel different after the race. Maybe it didn’t matter. He wasn’t trying to kiss me. He was asking.
And only if he won.
If I won, I could figure things out after. If I found my courage, I could kiss him. The power would be in my hands—and I’d get to keep that copy of Taliver. This was the perfect scenario.
“You have yourself a wager,” I said.
Cass let out a breath. I took his arm again, and the both of us, silently but anxiously, headed towards the little group of registering competitors gathered not too far away. Another race took off as we strolled. Cass looked quite intrigued, watching them bolt across the field towards the distant path ahead. His gaze was far-reaching and careful. I imagined he was gauging his chances of winning. I’d let him hope, but Butter and I almost never lost races. Not when we really needed to win.
“The race goes into the woods?” he asked. The sound of hooves pounding the dirt and thrashing branches echoed from the trees.
“Most of them. Some just go across the field, depending on what the competitors decide.”
“So, we won’t know until we know who we’re racing with?”
“No.” I glanced at the group of registering competitors ahead. The makeshift organizer waved us closer. “We’ll find out now.” I pulled Cass’s arm, and we jogged forward into the group.
The organizer’s pencil danced over the group, counting heads as we arrived. “Wonderful,” the man said. “That makes six. You all will ride after the next group that goes. Through the trees, right?”
A hum of consensus ran through us, except Cass, who only watched the rest of us, taking in every word.
“You all know the rules?” the organizer asked.
“Yeah, don’t lose,” a young fellow at the edge of our group said.
The fellow and his companion chuckled and shoved shoulders.
“And don’t hurt anybody,” the organizer added. “Nothing beyond that. Unless…” he lifted a jangly little bag from his side. “Does anyone want to put money on their race?”
Nearly all of our competitors slapped a handful of coins into the organizer’s hand, making Cass and I the only ones not betting at least a day’s work of silver. With that, the official sent us off. The current group was almost finished with their race, and by the time we were all lined up, it would be time for us to embark on ours.
“Is everyone in Morra this fond of gambling, or is it just Bexbury?” Cass asked. Our competitors headed back to gather their steeds, and we followed closely behind.
“You’re just dwelling with a certain type of crowd,” I said. “Then again, this is the side of Bexbury I see the most.”
“Doesn’t sound like an awful side to be bound to—all games and good spirits.”
“You don’t see any of that in your circles?” I asked.
“Some, but they’re nothing like this.”
“Then what are your normal interactions like? Mind numbingly dull?”
He looked bored just thinking about it. “More like predictably interesting, which will always be less preferable to pleasantly dull ways of spending time.”
I flipped a few of my curls behind my shoulders, noticing how Cass’s gaze followed me as I did. “What pleasantly dull activities do you consider superior to the predictably interesting?”
He rubbed his chin. “Well, I’m always prepared for a game of chess, however unpleasantly dull it may seem to everyone else.” Cass’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. I suppose he was waiting for me to jump up and reveal my love for the game too. I would have if only to further cement our likenesses, but this was a love we couldn’t share.
“Before you ask, no, I don’t play.” He deflated a bit. I guess we couldn’t have all the same passions. “I never learned. But my aunt tells me my father used to play on occasion. I think he was an oddity, though. I don’t know anyone else who know how. Except for you, I guess.”
“Do you want to learn?” We reached Butter’s post, and he eagerly untied her for me.
“I wouldn’t be opposed to it. Part of me has wanted to learn since I read volume thirteen.”
He handed me his reins. “I thought you said thirteen was your least favorite Taliver book?”
“Only because I didn’t know how to play. The whole ‘trapped in a living chess game’ plotline is a bit hard to follow when you don’t understand the rules of the game,” I said.
“I imagine it would be. Maybe I can remedy that by teaching you? Then you can reread the volume with new appreciation.”
And just like that, I had a third rendezvous dated and set. I hoped Gilow would be pleased. “I’d like that.”
I walked with Cass as he untethered his horse, a black quarter horse. I asked his name, but Cass said he was simply called fourteen. The previous group of riders trotted back to the edge of the field just as we mounted our steeds and headed towards the well-worn patches that marked the start of the race. The group before us was just darting into the trees. It wouldn’t be long before they’d be back, bolting across the opposite side of the field. In the dead center of our racing group, Cass and I waited anxiously along with the others for the prior groups to return. As soon as their first horse crossed ours, we were up—our turn at last.
Butter’s reins were slick with sweat in my grip. I should have brought gloves. This race felt more valuable than usual—it didn’t feel like just a race. My heart drummed up my throat, getting faster each waiting second. Normally, I wouldn’t have been nervous about winning at all, but with Cass here, things were different. Should I resign to let him have the win? That would be the easiest way to do this. Easier than swallowing my pride and kissing him even if I did lose.
Across the field, the first rider, a heavy-set woman with a white riding skirt whipping behind her, burst through the tree, trailed by a trio of men pressing as hard as they could to get past her. I stole a quick glance over to Cass. He clutched his reins and leaned forward, then grinned at me with an awfully smug confidence.
No, I couldn’t let him win.
The woman in the white skirt blew past our row, and we were off.
I bolted into action. With very little effort, Butter whipped forward. We tore into the field. Leaning forward, I pressed my heels into her flanks. There was almost no need. The ferocity with which we ripped through the air was astounding. The other horses faded out of view. I was ahead of them all. But so was Cass.
He was only a pace behind me, almost at my side. His horse’s hooves pummeled behind me. I wanted to turn back and perhaps wink or smile at him, but I pressed forward. The woods were at my fingertips, and I couldn’t risk losing my precious lead.
I pressed harder into Butter’s sides just as we crossed into the trees. On a regular forest trail, I wouldn’t have been worried at all. It’d be too narrow for him to get past me. But the racing trail had long since been widened with use. I stuck to its center and flew on. He would not pass me.
We whipped past the trees. The leaves and trunks were nothing more than blurs of color. The only sound in the world was the pummel of hooves. We were going so fast—I’d never ridden so rapidly in my life. A creeping dread clutched my heart. What would happen if I faltered now? Even the littlest movement could send me tumbling onto the path.
The trail ahead curved. My heart hitched as we got closer. Had the curve in the path always been so sharp? I was going so fast. Too fast. Could Butter make it? What if she slipped in the motion? It was too sharp. We were almost there.
Damn it.
I tugged on the reins as we neared the curve. Barely at all, just enough to slow us down a little. Just enough to make sure we didn’t tumble off into the trees.
But that was all he needed.
Cass and his horse whipped past us. A gust of air sliced past me. In my moment of hesitation, he cut through the curve. He didn’t slow at all. Not even as he rounded the turn. Butter and I sped down the trail, but now he was the one ahead of me. Only a pace, but it was enough.
I pressed again into Butter’s sides and leaned as far forward as I could. It was to no avail. Cass had his lead and wasn’t letting it go.
A fire burned through me as we darted out into the field. I hadn’t exaggerated—I rarely ever lost races. But I was about to. With all the force I could muster, I urged Butter forward. He was barely ahead of us. We could do this—we could beat him.
Halfway across the field, I drew up right at his side. He was less than an arm’s length ahead of me, but the row of riders was just before us and we were coming up fast.
Just a little bit further.
We flew past them—Cass first, with me the breadth of a horse’s tail hair behind.
I yanked back my reins, and we both drew to a stop.
I lost.
I gasped for breath at the edge of the field and pressed a hand to my chest. Cass tilted his head back and heaved his own breaths. At least I hadn’t made it an easy win.
Cass smiled through his weary breaths. “I guess my riding skills haven’t faded as much as I thought.”
“You…you—” I panted.
His smile grew into a smirk.Did he swindle me? Just when I thought I had Cass pegged as a quiet, shy little prince, he took a swift turn from my expectations. Literally.
I steered Butter away from the race lines as our fellow riders slowed along the grass. Cass trotted behind me. In a quiet corner of the field, with my breath mostly back but with a dreadful shakiness in my heart, I swung down from my horse, sliding to the ground quite ungracefully. I almost slipped on the grass, but a pair of hands caught my waist.
“Careful,” Cass whispered behind me.
My heart hitched as I spun around, but he left his hands around me. Habit told me to peel them off, but I didn’t. He won, and I had a promise to keep.
The lantern dangling from a nearby post burned over us. Cass gazed down at me, gently and longingly. His eyes lingered on me for an agonizing eternity.
“What are you waiting for?” I asked. “You won. Take your prize.”
I forced myself to be still and tilted my head up to him.
Just let him do it.
He pulled me closer to him and dipped his head down to me. His lips drew near to mine. The feeling in my feet and arms and legs drifted up until only my lips were left to feel the sensation of touch.
The air felt dry around me. My throat was sand, and I tried to will away the pronounced feeling in my lips. Cassian was going to kiss me.
You won’t like it, Evie.
I closed my eyes.
“No.”
My eyes flew open. Cass dropped his hands and stepped back from me.
“No?” I repeated. “What do you mean, no?”
“I mean not now.” His smirk softened.
I fumbled for words. “But…but I thought you wanted to kiss me?”
A deep red settled over his fair face, visible even in the dim lantern light. “I do.”
Something frantic and confusing swept over me. “But you won. I owe you a kiss, so why aren’t you kissing me? Did you change your mind?”
Was I not kissable enough anymore?
“Nothing’s changed at all,” he said. “You still owe me a kiss. And I intend to take it. Just not now.”
Really? Was he really serious? Did I do something wrong? No, I’d done nothing at all. And he wasn’t going to torture me by holding this over my head.
“No, you’ll take it right now!” I demanded. “Just kiss me.”
He laughed, an infuriating and confusing reaction.
I hit his shoulder. “I’m not joking, Cass. Kiss me!” I shouted.
“I can’t. It’s not the right moment.”
My chest heaved. Here I was practically throwing myself at him, and he wasn’t going to take me? Something I thought my life at the barn had taught me with complete certainty was that whenever I finally offered myself to someone, they would pounce. But he wasn’t going to. Cass, whose kiss I was ultimately readying myself to hate, was holding back. Time, now dragging me closer to my convenient marriage to Luke, never held back for me. Life never held back from hitting me. But this would-be enemy prince would.
The world was a wild, jumbled mess.
I couldn’t help but laugh if only to keep from screaming. “You’re awful,” I said between frustrated chuckles. “Absolutely awful.”
I grabbed Butter’s reins and yanked her away.
“Where are you going?” Cass asked. Even with my back to him, I could feel the contentment in his voice.
“Home,” I said. “To wallow in my defeat.”
“I can still come to see you tomorrow? So, we can play chess?”
I stopped and turned back to him. “I don’t know. Are you going to kiss me tomorrow?”
“I’m not sure, but I definitely can’t if I don’t see you.”
“Ugh.” I pulled my horse further away from him. He chuckled behind me.
“See you tomorrow?” he asked as I haphazardly mounted Butter once again.
He looked up at me, eyes pleading with all the hope one prince could hold.
“Yes.” Pouting like a little girl, I sped off back into the forest. Back towards home.
Prince Cassian doesn’t want to kiss me today? Fine.
I’d make damn sure he did tomorrow.