Prologue
I held a cool cloth to my blackened eye. Bruises and scrapes decorated my pale arms and legs. Thankfully I wasn’t bleeding too much- and most of it wasn’t mine. The other kid would miss a few days of tutelage.
“Where is she?” I heard my father’s booming voice from down the hall. I hadn’t expected him to be happy, but his tone was unnerving.
I sucked on a split knuckle in an attempt to ease the sting. When he rounded the corner he assessed the situation and shook his head.
“Come on, Isabelle,” he commanded, and I stood without hesitation.
“You have to admit, sir, she has your fire,” the man watching over me commented.
“Aye, too much for a girl. Let’s go,” with that he turned heel and I trailed behind him.
I concentrated on the ground as he led me outside of my language tutor
