The rain never let up. Right from after the fight, till night fell over the campus, it poured from the sky in a steady curtain that drummed against roofs, rattled down gutters, and filled the courtyards of the academy with silver ripples.
Noah felt it in his bones as he walked the halls. The weather seemed determined to remind everyone that Camelot was not a kingdom of sunshine, but of gray skies and heavy clouds.
After getting patched up in the medical ward, he had returned to class.
But the session was already over. The other students filed out, some sparing glances at him, whispering among themselves. He couldn't help but wonder how fast the rumors would travel this time.
So he went for lunch. The cafeteria was crowded, the smell of roasted meat heavy in the damp air, but even the scent couldn't mask the tension.
Just like he'd predicted, every conversation he passed seemed to bend back to the same two points.
Arlo Kael. The principal's grandson.
