"Who is that?"

"Shhh… she's new, could you try to be nice?"

"She dresses like she grew up in an alley. Why should I be nice to a commoner? How did she even get here?"

"She's here because she's a soon-to-be-certified genius. She has to have some form of formal education to be certified, therefore…"

"That's ridiculous. She's not of our class. She isn't worth wasting credentials on."

"The teachers disagree."

Most students at the Academy snored through roll call. Heads turned, however, when the name "Mirluin" was called – without a surname. The Academy only admitted students of noble birth, with genealogical records and famous crests to prove it. No one lacked a surname.

"Present and hopefully accounted for," she answered quietly. Each suddenly alert student evaluated her carefully, except for a few rowdy boys in the back who were more interested in tracking the movements of the fly currently invading the room than in the new girl.

"Call me Miri, please," she continued. "My own mother can't say my name right, so I won't make you try."

The teacher cleared his throat uncertainly. "That's fine, then."

By now even the boys in the back had caught on, craning their necks in hopes of a decent view. She had waist-length bright red hair with green streaks and small braids scattered throughout. She was small, and too angular and skinny to be considered beautiful. Her green-brown eyes were intelligent and amused, as though the world were her private joke. It was unsettling.

Class continued without incident.

By lunchtime, Legolas had heard every variation of every rumor about the new girl. He was mildly surprised that so many people weren't offended that she was of a lower class than they. He glanced at Cerci's table, sighing in sarcastic relief. She was already pointedly snubbing the new girl. Legolas knew that by the end of classes the whole school would follow suit. Deciding to stir things up a bit, he ordered the roast duck and motioned his friends away from their usual table. He sat by Miri.

She was faintly shocked when someone deigned to sit at her table. Someone male, no less. She finished chewing her bite of salad, then said, "So are you motivated by pity, or do you have the unfortunate misconception that I'm easy?"

He nearly choked. "I didn't take you for such a cynic," he managed, after he swallowed.

She grinned sideways. "Actually, I just wanted to see your face. You don't look like the type of person who'd use a girl. But you never know."

"Quite the flatterer, aren't you?"

She faked a simper. "I do work so hard at it, milord, it's so wonderful to know I've actually achieved something in the field." She made a face. "I'm being sarcastic."

"Oh," he said, relieved.

"You have no idea how many females try that on him," Silver, one of his friends, interjected.

"I don't know which is scarier, them or you," Legolas added thoughtfully.

"Oh, them, definitely," Miri said.

"How so?"

"They actually mean it." He laughed. She continued, "I only wonder why they bother. I mean, you're good looking, but that's pretty shallow, even for girls."

Silver smirked. "You never did introduce yourself," he said to Legolas.

"What a brute you are," Miri said ironically. "Most men I meet just toss out a half-baked pickup line and try to get a feeler."

"Poor baby," Akiniel murmured.

"Do you even care what my name is?" he challenged.

"Not as much as I care about mine," she grinned. "What is it?"

He introduced himself. "Oh, my," she giggled helplessly, "You are causing a stir, being here, aren't you?"

"Yes, and if you look over there where Cerci is sitting, you'll notice it's working splendidly," he said, pointing.

They turned: indeed, the most beautiful girl in school gave new meaning to the phrase "if looks could kill."

"May I stir the pot of resentment yet again?" Miri said, a look that the three boys would eventually recognize as her "I'm going to get us into such deep trouble we will narrowly escape expulsion" look on her face.

Akiniel said, "Go for it."

"Say the worst honest thing you can think of about me."

Silver took up the challenge eagerly, uttering several choice insults (some were exaggerated considerably; he seemed not to have heard the "honest" part) but Miri found no difficulty in getting offended – dramatically. She soon left the table in a huff and sat down in the only empty chair left at Cerci's elite board, promptly beginning to cry heartrendingly.

This was just not Cerci's day. Not only had she failed – failed! – her history exam, but she couldn't find her favorite skirt and had to go with a second-rate choice, she hadn't had time to catch up on the gossip, and this new girl who would doubtlessly taint them all with her reputedly wild habits had the audacity to sit at her table.

And she couldn't make her go away, because she was obviously in distress. She had to tough it out.

"What's wrong?" she asked, sounding for all the world as though nothing could matter more than this blotchy-faced undersized elleth.

"I'm okay," she hiccupped, trying to stop unsuccessfully. She looked up. My, she does need some lessons on how to cry prettily. "It's just – never mind."

"Really, what? Did those boys over there say something?" She was curious now – Legolas wouldn't be responsible for this; there wasn't a woman alive who could get offended towards him. Silver, maybe? He had a tart tongue. Akiniel was too reserved to say much – definitely Silver.

She sniffed. "Yes." One of Cerci's friends handed the girl a handkerchief, and she accepted it quietly. "What's your name again?" she asked.

"Miri." She seemed to be calmer now, and Cerci pressed a bit harder: "Now, you must tell us; why are you crying?"

Wiping her eyes, she said, "Silver just wasn't that kind."

"What did he say?"

"I wouldn't want to repeat it," she said softly.

"That bad?" Miri nodded. "Poor baby," Cerci said. The girl who had lent Miri her handkerchief embraced her. "Why don't you come with us," she said, deciding to be nice for now. It wouldn't do to ruin Miri's day more. Miri allowed herself to be steered towards the door, hovering for one second towards the back of the group. Just before she left, she turned and winked.

Akiniel, Legolas and Silver smiled. This would indeed be interesting.

Akiniel was in Miri's drama class, the last one of the day. "How do you like Cerci?" he murmured, watching the teacher for any signs of interesting news.

"She was faking being nice, and I think towards the end she was suspicious of me. But my goodness, she is a paradox. Is she trying to be nice and I just rub her wrong, or does she see me as a threat?"

"Both," Akiniel answered. The teacher began to pass out scripts: this was the oldest group of students, and they put on a play every three months because their seniority made it possible. Only Miri had never done this before. The teacher seemed to have noticed this as well, and said, once she had finished passing out scripts, "Because this play demands such a large cast, this will be a collaboration with the other two senior drama classes. Now, Miri, I understand you have never acted before-"

"Not professionally, no, but I have reason to believe I can hold my own among the experts that surround me," she interrupted, with a tone that was respectful enough to escape the teacher's radar but subversive enough to get a warning look from Akiniel.

The teacher nodded, watching her. "I understand that. I cannot keep you from auditioning, but I would strongly advise that you not participate the first time so that you may learn by example."

"I'll consider it," Miri said indifferently. Even the teacher understood: she would not.

Akiniel whispered, "Better not try for the lead. If you get it you'll make every female here your enemy. Except a few."

"I want to meet those few. And then I'm trying for whatever part I want."
He sighed, exasperated. "You're going to be kicked out of here before the semester's up."

"Then I'll go out with a bang, won't I?" she asked sweetly.