Strength

After three days, I fully comprehended why Ash said that I might find the etiquette lessons "unpleasant," although I would surely find a few other words—more suitable than "unpleasant"—to describe what I felt during the long hours of my lady training. Most of them were invectives. Yet another curse left my mouth as the tiny plate slipped down from my shoulder while my hand with the spoon tried to reach the bowl of soup lying on the table. That tiny plate was one of those small, highly annoying things that Nicor placed on me to secure my posture while eating.

With a heavy—and completely infuriating—sigh, my bored teacher elegantly bent to reach for the plate and placed it back on my left shoulder. "Again," he commanded.

"Do vampires extend their hands just like their claws?" I asked, annoyance slipping through my flat voice. "Because I don't believe that it's possible to reach that far without leaning forward. That's inhuman," I remarked.

Nicor gave me a lopsided smile. "The idea is no