by Sable Sylvan
“Yeah. I’m reading The Castle Of Otranto,” said Addy. “It got assigned in my Gothic Literature class as well.”
“You didn’t start on Pride and Prejudice?” asked Sage.
“No, I’ve read that a million times,” said Addy. “I know it back and front. That assignment will be easy peasy. It’s my favorite book.”
“I’ve never read it,” said Sage. “Isn’t it girly?”
“I don’t know, is true love and fated mates girly?” asked Addison. “Haven’t you at least seen the movie versions?”
“They always get some big, hulking shifter, stuff him in a suit, and pair him with a stick thin waif,” said Sage. “I’ve seen the posters. The movies don’t appeal to me, but the music is…passable. Anyway. That’s how you know its fiction.”
“Because the music is okay?” asked Addy, confused.
“Sit down,” said Sage, motioning to the silver chaise lounge behind the piano. Addy walked in and took a seat. Sage’s room was surprisingly different than she’d expected.
“What do you think?” asked Sage.
“Of what, the music?” asked Addy.
“No, my room,” said Sage. “I’m usually busy practicing, but I’ve collected some posters on my travels.”
“So, you do travel,” said Addy.
“Of course, I do,” said Sage. “You have to travel to hear anything worth hearing. Moscow’s got the ballet, which has a great orchestra, and of course Italy’s got their opera.”
“And France?” asked Addy, motioning to a picture of a red windmill.
“Moulin Rouge has a music scene,” said Sage. “Trust me. As I was saying, you know those movies are fiction because there’s no way a shifter would go for some Victorian waif. Half the time, the scullery maids outshine the heroines in those films.”
“You really think so?” asked Addy.
“Of course, I do,” asked Sage. “I know some men find it hard to keep it in their pants at the cabaret, but not me. I have some modicum of self-control…and high standards.”
“So, you collected all these posters yourself?” asked Addy. “I have to admit I’m surprised you’re into classical music.”
“Really? What did you think, that I’d be into Nordic death metal because I dress like this?” asked Sage, motioning over his body.
“Well…yeah,” admitted Addy.
“That’s more Clove’s scene,” said Sage. “And no, these aren’t Clove’s hand-me-downs.”
“Your specialty is really classical piano?” asked Addy.
“Romantic era classical piano,” said Sage. “Like…this.”
Sage turned and started to play a piece that made Addy feel as if she was on the moor, in some corseted dress, black, with a brooding man with brilliant blue eyes and a streak of black through his blond hair. She could feel the wind and the rain against her skin, and the heat of the man’s body against her own…
“Beethoven,” said Sage, continuing to play. “Moonlight Sonata. Can you feel the music?”
“Yes,” said Addy softly as she closed her eyes and imagined the scene unfolding in front of her…
Darkness. Glimmerings of light. Stars, a full moon, the smell of petrichor on the moor, still glimmering with what could be either fresh rain or freshly summoned dew. Her skirts, rustling against the gorse and heather as she makes her way to the figure on the moor, a figure she has no guarantee is him, but which she knows must be, a figure neither man nor woman, but merely ‘beast.’
Is there a risk, approaching the beast? Yes. What if it is some escaped tiger from the zoo, a hunter’s hound gone rabid? But what if she does not approach, and it is…him?
The clouds part, and a moonbeam strikes the beast. His fur is almost too brilliant to behold. The beast has a coat of pure white, except for sideways, along its body, a stroke of black that almost seems to cut it in half.
It’s him. Addy walks to the beast, and as she does, the beast walks toward her, the moonbeam following it until they meet.
The moonbeam disappears, the clouds obscuring the light, but when the clouds part again, the beast in front of her is no longer a beast. It’s a man, with icy blond hair, blond save a streak of black, and a Viking’s blue eyes. He’s in a coat and jodhpurs that leave nothing to the imagination, including his longing for her, and his desire to rip her bodice from her and claim her, then and there, on the moor…
“Addy?” said Sage as he came to the end of the piece. “Hello?”
“Oh, sorry,” said Addy, snapping out of it. What the heck had come over her?
“Are you okay?” asked Sage.
“Yes, it’s just…you’re right,” said Addy. “It’s quite the song. Why are you wasting your time in a class like Honors English Lit if you are such a good musician?”
“The best musicians know where their music comes from,” said Sage.
“Where it comes from?” asked Addy.
“Addy, you came here to walk in the footsteps of the people you admire,” said Sage. “Romantic music is merely a part of a greater tradition, the Romantic tradition. That tradition is covered in Bingley’s course. Also, I needed an extra elective to complete my English minor, and what better class than Bonimolean’s most famous course?”
“How do you know the reason I’m here?” asked Addy. “Did Herb tell you? Ugh. Alice and her big mouth…”
“Who do you think told Herb that you wanted to come here?” asked Sage.
“Alice, obviously,” said Addy.
“Does Alice seem like she had any part in planning this?” asked Sage. “Would your sister really ask her fiancé for such a big gift?”
“Who else would’ve told him?” asked Addy.
“Who do you think?” asked Sage. “Let me put it this way. You and Abby weren’t exactly quiet when you talked about how much you hated me talking about Bonimolean in front of you. It didn’t take a genius to figure out how to make that right.”
“You’re the one who told Herb about my dream?” asked Addy.
“And the one who set things up over here, because Clove was busy with, say it with me…his thesis,” said Sage with a laugh. “Look, Addy. I know you think I’m some bad ass…or maybe, some jackass. But for a girl who likes Pride and Prejudice, you’ve got a lot to learn.”
“A lot to learn about what?” asked Addy. What could Sage mean? A lot to learn about pride? About prejudice? About…love?
“I guess that’s the mystery,” said Sage. “Hey, if I’m going to get thought of as the bad boy, I might as well act the part.”
“Wow, switching from music major to theater major now?” asked Addy. “Ha-ha.”
“I better let you get to your studies,” said Sage. “You can leave the door open…that is, if you’d like to.”
“I’d like that,” said Addy. “Well, I’ll get back to my work. See you.”
Addy walked out of Sage’s room. Once she left, Sage started to play another piece. It was yet another piece that made her feel as if she was in another world, that made her feel like another character in another story, but the only question was, was she in a fairy tale, or yet another cheesy Gothic novel set in the English countryside? Before she could figure that out, Sage was on to the next piece.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The next day, Addy and Sage had their second class together. Addy found Sage sneaking glances at her whenever she spoke up in class, and she couldn’t help but take peeks at him, too. Before, she’d thought that Sage had to be a slacker, but after last night’s conversation, she was not so sure. When she looked his way, she found that he had come to class prepared. He had new notebooks, pens, highlighters, and a volume of the book they’d been assigned for the second meeting of class (a selection of British poems). The book was full of fresh paper notes that stuck out of the edges of the book like the feathers of a peacock. Was Sage, in a way, peacocking, and showing off the fact he did care about these books to her? If so, why? Addy tried to focus on the lesson because, after all, this is why she
was at Bonimolean, to take classes of the highest quality…but was what Sage said true? Was he really the reason that she was here at all? If so, there was no frikkin’ way she’d ever be able to pay him back…or apologize for having prejudged him.
After class, Addy and Sage didn’t go their separate ways. Sage walked next to Addy as they exited the classroom.
“Do you have another class after this?” asked Sage.
“Yes, but not for two hours,” said Addison.
“Got any plans?” asked Sage.
“No, not really,” admitted Addison. “When I have time to kill, I either read or explore. I know that’s kinda lame.”
“Not at all,” insisted Sage. “Have you discovered the mail room yet?”
“The mail room?” asked Addison. “No. I thought all our packages got delivered to our door.”
“They do, but if you know someone, you can get your mail faster,” said Sage. “Right now, things are busy because it’s the start of a new semester, but I’ve got an in with someone in the mail room and am expecting some new sheet music. Do you want to pick up our mail and then get a bite to eat?”
“Sure, that sounds lovely,” said Addison. “Lead the way.”
Addison was expecting Sage to walk her to the mail room. That he did, but of course, not before placing his hand on the small of her back, not curving around to her waist or moving it down to her ample hips, but placing it on the small of her back chastely. He led her through the halls of Bonimolean, in and out of buildings, until they reached the mail room.
The mail room had a counter with a bell and no line. Sage walked up to the counter and struck the bell.
“Maggy!” called out Sage.
An old, matronly looking olive-skinned woman with her hair up in a bun, with two pencils piercing the bun, came over. Sage was tall, but this woman was even taller. She lowered her crescent moon glasses and looked down at Sage and Addison.
“Why, if it isn’t the Scoville gamma,” said Maggy. “Whatever can I do for you…and your prey?”
“This is Addison, Addison Quincy,” said Sage. “She’s my brother’s fiancée’s sister, the middle child.”
“But which brother?” asked Maggy.
“Well…my sister Alice, the eldest, and his brother Herb are engaged,” said Addison. “My second eldest sister, Abigail, is engaged to his brother Clove.”
“Ah, and now it’s time for the middles to meet, meeting in the middle,” said Maggy, pushing her glasses up. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Addy.”
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, too, Miss Maggy,” said Addison. “Wait, how did you know my nickname?”
“American, yes?” asked Maggy.
“Yes, but you can get that from the accent,” said Addison.
“Dragon shifter,” said Sage. “They have a way of…knowing.”
“Wait, dragon shifter?” asked Addy. “No frikkin’ way. Sorry, excuse me. I just…I didn’t know they were real.”
“Rare, but real,” said Maggy. “At least, I should hope I’m real. Wouldn’t it be a shame if I was just a character in a book or your imagination? Ahaha! But anyway, Sage, are you here for your mail?”
“Yes, and does Addy have any parcels?” asked Sage.
“I can check,” said Maggy. “Luckily, the Q’s and S’s are close to each other…apparently, even closer than I thought. Just a moment.”
Maggy went back to the back of the mail room.
Closer than I thought? What the heck did that mean? Addison looked over at Sage. He seemed fine…but his hand was still on her frikkin’ back! That’s what the dragon must’ve been talking about. Addison didn’t feel the urge to remove Sage’s hand, so she filled the silence with a question.
“How do you know Maggy?” asked Addison.
“Maggy’s worked for Bonimolean for…a long time,” said Sage.
“A long time?” asked Addison.
“Let me put it this way. She’s known my family for a long time,” said Sage. “She knew my grandfather’s grandfather.”
“Wait a second,” said Addison. “How frikkin’ old is Maggy?”
“Y’know, it’s just as rude to ask a shifter as it is to ask a human,” said Sage. “Does Sabine need to sign you up for etiquette lessons?”
“Frankly, yes,” said Addison. “But that’s neither here nor there.”
“You don’t know a dang thing about dragon shifters, do you?” asked Sage.
“Nope,” said Addison. “I didn’t even know they were real until a few moments ago. I thought it was another made up myth like Santa Claus.”
“Wait, you think Santa…never mind,” said Sage. “Okay. So. Dragons live for a long time. A real frikkin’ long time. Humans have slain a few dozen but I frankly have no clue if dragons are immortal, or just live a long time or any of that. You know how all shifters tend to…keep to themselves unless they’re looking for mates?”
“Yeah,” said Addison. “Like a certain Norwegian polar bear clan…”
“Ha-ha,” said Sage. “Well, dragons are notoriously…private. So, while Maggy is a family friend, I don’t know much about her.”
“Sage, be a dear and come back here,” said Maggy, coming back to the counter. She undid a latch and the counter, which was a half-door with a counter added to it, came open. “You two have quite a lot of mail.”
Sage walked into the back of the mail room and came back out armed with some colorful totes. Each one was in a Bonimolean house color with the house sigil on the bag. They were the same kind of totes that had been used to deliver their books and other packages, and could be returned in their laundry bags.
“Thanks so much, Maggy,” said Sage.
“Of course, anything for a Scoville,” said Maggy. “And you will be attending your grandfather’s ball, yes?”
“But of course,” said Sage. “I’ll be seeing you later, Maggy.”
“And you, Sage,” said Maggy before going back to work.
Sage was carrying all the large totes. Addy reached for one, but Sage pulled away.
“Nuh-uh,” said Sage. “There’s no reason for you to carry all these.”
“They are my packages,” said Addy, reaching out again, but again, Sage turned.
“And you are a hungry human who has more classes today, who has been walking around campus for over half an hour,” said Sage. “Let’s open these over lunch. We just have one thing left to pick up before lunch…and I might need you to watch the packages when I pick that up.”
“What are we picking up?” asked Addy.
“Uh…you’ll see,” said Sage sheepishly. “Come on.”
Sage led Addy out of the administrative building and walked her across the quad to the big library. There were many steps up to the library. One had to go up a set of stone steps to a large patio type of area, and then one could enter the multi-floor library. Sage carried the packages up the steps. Addy waited outside the library with the packages and Sage went in. She had a good view of the entire building and could even see the stained glass that dotted the third floor’s walls.
Addy still had no idea what Sage was doing. Was he dropping off overdue library books, or checking out new sheet music from the music archive of rare sheet music? Did he have a print job he needed to pick up that day?
In a few minutes, Addy had her answer. She heard signs of a struggle and peered, but couldn’t see what was going on…until she looked up. On the second floor of the building, along the glass window, there was a bay of computers overlooking the quad, with special glass used for the big pane glass window to reduce glare. Inside, Sage was walking with something over his arm…
Or rather, someone.
No frikkin’ way. Did Sage really have Clove over his shoulder and Clove’s backpack in hand? Sage walked out of view, presumably downstairs, and then walked out the front doors to the library again.
“Put me down!” shouted Clove. “Sage, you ruffian, you have no manners whatsoever!”
&nb
sp; “And you have no idea of what constitutes a healthy work-life balance,” said Sage. “How the heck can you get any work done if you don’t get sleep or food?”
“I need to finish up that page!” said Clove.
“That’s what you said last night when I texted you asking why you weren’t back in your room,” said Sage, putting Clove down gently.
“That’s why I need to keep working,” said Clove, taking his bag from Sage. “If I haven’t even gotten a single page written…”
“Then you need to get sleep and eat something, and try again later,” said Sage. “You don’t have classes today. Come on. We’re going back to House Scoville, getting you food, and putting you to bed. Now, am I gonna have to carry you, or are you gonna walk?”
“I’ll walk,” said Clove. “Fine. I’ll go eat something and take a short nap.”
“That’s the spirit,” said Sage, passing Clove his backpack and one of the totes. “I also did you the favor of picking up your mail.”
“The book I ordered got here?” asked Clove.
“There’s one way to find out,” said Sage. “We’ll open packages over lunch.” Sage picked up the other totes full of packages and his backpack.
Addy walked down the stairs with the two polars.
“I had no idea we got Clove’s mail,” said Addy.
“That’s because I knew if I told you my plan, you wouldn’t go along with it,” said Sage. “Sorry, sweet cheeks, but I want to have my cake and eat it, too.”
Sage, Addy, and Clove got to House Scoville and got a table in the dining hall quite quickly. Sage and Addy both brought extra plates of food from the buffet so that Clove could eat two plates of food. He hadn’t eaten last night’s dinner or that day’s breakfast or lunch yet, and as a polar shifter, he needed the energy. The only thing Sage didn’t allow Clove was a cup of tea or coffee. The last thing the overworked senior needed was something to keep him up.
The menu that day was Italian inspired, so there was a good mix of salts, fats, proteins, and carbs to keep everyone’s engines running. At Bonimolean, they often had chefs from abroad come to make special meals, and this meal was quite special indeed. There was lasagna made with artisanal feta and heirloom tomatoes. There was pizza margherita, made with freshly kneaded pizza dough, basil grown on the Bonimolean University property in the kitchens’ greenhouses, buffalo mozzarella, and of course, tasty sweet, salty, and savory tomato sauce.
