’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. Without the protection of John’s star power, certain denizens of the school found new reserves of energy and turned their attention to her, especially Kate Pfister, a bleach blonde with a face that was a plain sort of pretty who had once dated John. ‘Something for you, Lucy?’ he asked, interrupting a heated argument that had obviously been in progress for some little time before their arrival. . Drink, and no sustaining food. To return. Sir John saw it, and was flattered. He lived on the seventh floor behind a winding set of hallways that towered over her in their grayness. The Wastrel wiped the blood from his forehead. She learned quickly, absorbing all she could as quickly as possible as her adoration grew for him.
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