by Melody Rose
I felt a pang of both remorse and appreciation. “I’m really sorry, you guys. It really sucks that you’re getting the short end of the stick and have to give up your energy for tonight’s tantrum of mine.”
The benevolent troll waved his hand, as though to shoo away my concerns politely. “Not to worry,” he casually remarked. “We are prepared for situations such as these. Your rejuvenation is our primary concern, so without further ado, let us bring you to your sleeping quarters, mademoiselle.”
“It’s not as if we haven’t had to summon plenty of servitors before for Theo’s every wild demand,” Irk sarcastically blurted out and rolled his eyes. “At least we like you.”
I smiled warmly and petted Aurelius’ drooping head. It really was getting awfully late, and I didn’t think these two would lie to me even in the name of common courtesy.
“Alright,” I relented. “Let’s see where Bouclier put me. If my robe is any indication of the quality of my room, then there’s nothing to get really excited over. Anyway, as long as I don’t have to share it with Lydia, then I won’t turn my nose up at free accommodations.”
The two each took one of my hands in their now-typical caring way and helped steer me down the various and plentiful corridors of the academy’s castle. Seriously, this place felt like a mirror hall of doors or a maze with infinite passageways. I hoped that I would eventually get with the program and develop a sense of direction quick or I’d have a real hard time here. Beyond the inconvenience, Lydia or some other spiteful student might notice my cluelessness and corner me. I did the best I could to keep an eye out for every turn and tapestry to replicate the path they took the next time I had to, but it was really difficult with my drowsiness.
At last, our nighttime adventure came to a close, and we stood at my doorstep. Literally, my dormitory had its own slightly raised platform in front of the door with a chic red welcome mat that had my initials monogrammed in gold thread with filigree framing.
How did they know my last name? It’d only been one day, but the possibilities, as well as the sneakiness or magic, never ceased to amaze me. What was extra creepy was that gold and red was my favorite color scheme. It brought to mind the best season of the year, fall, which had the best lattes, pastries, and pies. Not to mention that it held the claim to the holiday to end all holidays, Thanksgiving. I shook my head to declutter my sleepy brain and did a double-take to look behind me.
It looked as though we had scaled up nearly every staircase except a final one right across the hall. I wondered if the rooms either got swankier or grimier with each floor we went up, but judging by the exterior of my room, I was going to guess the first possibility. Either that or Bouclier was filled to the gills with money and could afford even its poorest students the lap of luxury. If that weren’t the case, and I actually lucked out somehow, then I guessed that meant that Theo was up one flight of stairs. I also had to wonder if he just took up an entire floor for himself because he couldn’t be bothered to share a square inch with anyone else.
Ugh. Maybe I could arrange for a schedule that alternated completely from his so that we wouldn’t bump into each other. He had claimed that we’d have a whole castle to separate us, but that didn’t mean much when he was right above me. Who knows what special kind of Hell he would magic up when he was so nearby?
“Well, I guess here’s where I turn into a pumpkin,” I remarked as I smiled down at my two sweet escorts. I was curious about what a dormitory in a castle had in store for me, and it seemed like I could get some genuine peace and quiet since my welcome mat suggested I didn’t have to put up with a roommate.
“Mademoiselle?” Yavo furrowed his brow at my words. “I can assure you that no harm will come to you once you close your door. I know that today has been unsettling, to say the least, but you will finally be able to rest knowing that we have taken the necessary precautions.”
“It’s a figure of spee…” I tried to explain myself, but then my spirited goblin friend jumped in to cut me off.
“Did Theo tell you that?!” he howled with indignation. “You ain’t gonna turn into a pumpkin! We’ve cast the best hex and mal-intent blockers on your door so that no one can come in that plans to hurt you!”
Come to think of it, I wouldn’t put it past Theo to transform me into an obnoxiously large squash fit for a county fair as a cherry on top of the crap sundae he had treated me today, so it was encouraging to hear that.
“You two think of everything,” I cooed, and I really did mean that. I don’t know what I would have done without their cleverness and foresight.
Aurelius licked both of their arms with gratitude, glazing them with liberal amounts of saliva. Yavo and Irk bowed deeply and waited for me to step into my room with my newfound pup. It was only after I had fully shut the door that I had heard their footsteps as they left me to my solitude.
Once I drank in the extravagance of the room, I actually wanted to know who to thank for this room placement because this was by far the nicest pad I’d ever been in, and that’s saying something with my stepmother’s expensive taste in furnishings.
Shit. Deirdre. I wondered what story I would have to brew up to excuse my extended absence. Whatever. It could wait until tomorrow seeing that I didn’t have a shift at the bakery today and beyond how I could fall into her plans, she couldn’t care less about where I was or even my safety, for that matter.
Putting her out of my mind temporarily, I chose to focus on my ridiculously beautiful room instead of ruining the moment with the creeping responsibilities that would have to be taken care of eventually. The first word that came to mind was Marie Antoinette, not necessarily the bloody French Revolution that we’d covered sophomore year in high school, but the more sanitized, frou-frou interpretation. While before I only had a cot, some clothes, and a tote bag to my name, I now had more furniture than I knew what to do with.
There was a vanity with a trio of mirrors and an upholstered stool, a chaise lounge that looked like an honest-to-goodness old-timey fainting couch instead of what you could get in any department store, a fireplace, a few cushy armchairs, two chest of drawers, a scattering of tables and trunks, and a canopied four-poster bed. Hell, I even had a miniature dining room table!
I leaned my broom against the wall and appraised my new digs. The colors were a little off if someone were going for my personal taste, though. I’ve always favored a warm palette that created a sense of down-to-earth coziness. This room, however, was on the cold side with baby blues like the Tiffany & Co. boxes I had seen my step-family constantly treat themselves to, brightly burnished gold accents that looked like the real deal, eggshell whites, and dusty pink rose.
Whoever put this together must have thought I was some prim girly-girl, but maybe if I learned that I had a magical bone in my body, I could remodel it a bit. I shrugged, and as Aurelius trotted off to plop down on a sickeningly cute miniature dog sofa, I walked over to my personal dining room table, delighted to see a multi-tiered tray of macarons. Each layer was filled with treats in different shades. I was hoping that the pink ones would be strawberry-flavored.
I picked one up and was immediately pissed off. I couldn’t believe it! These were just for show. Pinched between my fingers was an imitation macaron that felt like cold and hard plaster. Who the hell pulls that kind of crap other than real estate agents staging homes?
Theo, that’s who. This was the second time he had screwed me out of dessert, and I was starting to get a real heavy chip on my shoulder. I tossed it at the decorative tray and caused all the other stupidly deceptive faux sweets to tumble down in a multicolored pool of disappointment. Yavo and Irk had told me that I wouldn’t be seriously injured behind closed doors, but that didn’t mean that Theo couldn’t taunt me by setting traps around my room in the form of fake food. What a jerk. I was really going to need to unwind from this setback.
As I rolled my eyes and looked out into the distance to plot my revenge, I noticed that I had my own attached bathroom
. The mock macarons may have not been sweet, but this certainly was. I headed over to check it out, and in keeping with the antique but clean look of the rest of my dorm, I saw that it had a clawfoot bathtub. It didn’t have a shower curtain, but I guessed that it would have been difficult to find one that would’ve matched. I mean, you can’t just slap a plastic sheet decked in rubber ducks or tropical fish onto something so high-end.
I raided the cabinets and was also a bit bummed to learn that there wasn’t any bubble bath or bath bombs in the joint. Seriously, Theo either really missed the mark on all of this, or he hit a bull’s eye, depending upon whether he was trying to impress me or upset me. I loved my macarons with fresh strawberries and my bubble bath will all manner of fake scents and outrageous colors. After all, I was a girl with a discerning palate that also had to shop at the dollar store.
As Aurelius settled into a deep slumber with endearing little snores, I treated myself to my first real moment of privacy and tranquility if I didn’t count deliberating over brooms. I winced as Lydia’s taunts about the smell of me resurfaced in my mind and made quick work of getting out of my unfortunate outfit. What with everything that I’d seen today, I didn’t think that there’d be laundry rooms here, so I wondered how I’d be able to get the cloak of dust off my robe. Maybe I’d have to wash it by hand until I learned anything useful. Ugh.
“Ow!” I yelped once I turned on the bath and was met with a scalding stream. Was it just old plumping or another one of Theo’s tricks? I could certainly see why mages bypassed typical tasks and went straight for spells, it seemed to make life a whole lot easier. At the moment, I was really started to envy them despite the complicated dynamics of this castle.
I shook my head and fiddled with the handles next to the faucet until the water’s temperature was perfect. I thought I could afford to be a bit picky, but I’d never want to admit that to Theo after lecturing him for his stuck up antics. Thankfully, he’d never have to know. Once the water reached the right level, I slipped into my wet refuge.
At last, some privacy.
13
Theo
Once I returned to my room to peel off my defiled garments and replace them with another ensemble, I paced back and forth over the large and intricate rug I had ordered to be imported here from the Crescent Desert. I was so furious that I couldn’t even properly channel my will to create my own enchanted entire, so I had to go through the extra effort of scouring my room for the best pieces in my wardrobe. I wanted to look exquisite when I dressed Joan down for her insolence. How dare she humiliate me in such an irrational and outrageous manner!
It was my good fortune that I enjoyed collecting clothes and gazing upon what I had accumulated because if I hadn’t, I would be out of options. And I mean truly out of options since I couldn’t abide more than twenty minutes in gravy-soaked silk. An absolute travesty.
If it weren’t for the protective charm I had encased my carriage in during the ride here, I would have thought that a Fachan, a spiteful faerie from the circle of eternal death, had pounced on her shoulder and hypnotized her with a mind-eating earworm. I didn’t think that anyone could have possibly been in such a bitter mood when they were invited to the most coveted dining quarters in the entire castle and privy to the most nourishing feast Lemuria had to offer.
Instead of engaging in a civil conversation with me and accepting the exceedingly wholesome fare that I had laid out for her so that she may recover after a long and arduous day, she bemoaned the lack of desserts at the ready. I’m sure that the common little cakes that were passed around had gotten stale, and I didn’t see why she mourned the loss of them. I thought that it was far more advisable that Joan eat a proper meal, and the idea of her relishing in inferior, sugar-laden crumbs that were past their ideal serving time frankly horrified me.
I also saw it as quite presumptuous of her to come to the aid of Chef Douglas as though he were under serious duress or was subjected to some degrading form of labor. After all, it was his job to look after the wellbeing and nutrition of Bouclier’s students, so what greater honor could he have than to attend to the Headmaster’s son?
Really, the claim that I was unreasonable could be seen as an overreaction barely worth forgiving. I didn’t hold Joan to the soaring standard of carrying herself like a proper witch, but I did expect her to be beyond animal impulses. While I could credit her for being more than a sheepish lamb’s blood, she brought to mind a braying donkey when she upturned platters of mashed potatoes onto me. She would have realized they were divinely buttered if she weren’t a slave to her blind rage.
The very memory of the ordeal caused me to kick an ornamental ottoman before I had to take a seat on it and concentrate on regaining my will. Once I felt the warmth of my energy seep back into my blood, I wasted no time shouting the names of the idiotic traitors who decided to put Joan’s comfort before mine. Within a moment, the goblin and the troll stood in front of me, their tiny faces contorted with unnerved expressions.
“What’s the matter with you two?!” I demanded in a fiery tone. “She’s a simple lamb’s blood, nothing more, not an esteemed guest. You are treating her as though she is a visiting princess, and it would please me if you would cease your inappropriate doting over her.”
“Monsieur,” Yavo nearly stuttered, “we only intended to see Joan to her quarters and reassure her that she would not be harmed while she is alone. You can see why she would be understandably skeptical without some protective spells on our part.”
“My little welcome gift, though…?” I ventured to determine whether or not the two had carried out the task that I thought fell well within the limits of “relatively harmless” that their irksome hex blockers had restricted me to.
The docile troll sighed. “Your… unique… token has been permitted and is visible from the center of her room as we speak.” Irk seemed to boil over and to be too incensed to speak. Let him fume. All that mattered was that I was getting my way before the night was through.
“Excellent,” I remarked with deep satisfaction. “That’ll be the dessert she asked for and what she deserves. Her, ah, what did Rebecca call it? ‘Just desserts.’ When humans are forced to eat their words, yes?”
I rubbed my chin and continued to relish in the deliciously deviant trick. “A stately tray teeming with a feast for the eyes that can only serve to whet her appetite yet leave her hungry and frustrated. I’m sure that as it stands in all its glory, it only calls to attention the hovel that she’s in.”
The two looked at me blankly as though they could not imagine the splendidly just and entertaining picture that I was painting with my words.
“Well, the only way she wouldn’t be a burden on Bouclier is if we didn’t fret over tedious details such as her lodgings,” I coldly stated. “I mean, she’s yet another mouth that Chef Douglas needs to muster the energy to feed. Surely we will counterbalance the strain she puts on our academy by stowing her away somewhere… modest… and out of sight?
“Well, ah,” Yavo hesitated before divulging, “Abelard did not agree with your proposal that we allocate as little resources as necessary on our new prospect. He decided to set Joan up in le couloir des champions célèbres, as it were…”
“He did what?!” I howled in angry astonishment. “The corridor of celebrated champions for an impetuous nitwit that doesn’t even have a dash of table manners?! What has she accomplished?! She hasn’t even been formally inducted into Bouclier! It takes years for our mages to earn admittance into those quarters!”
“I guess it’s some bitter herbs to chew on that you’re not the one that calls the shots when it comes to who is housed where,” Irk spat out with his knuckles pressed into his hips. “If it were up to you, every soul that so much as looks at you funny would be tossed into the ogre’s pit.”
I paused and considered his unwitting proposal, and then I became furious that the impertinent goblin had the audacity to question my reasoning. While I certainly wasn’t above employing t
he castle’s ogre to carry out punishments that truly fit the crime… that was its intended purpose for centuries, after all… I resented the accusation that I was rash and stooped to severe penalties without basis.
I wasn’t going to answer to him, and I was going to denounce Joan personally for becoming too comfortable where she didn’t belong. It would be one matter if she were simply going to learn the ropes and accept humble circumstances until she had earned the right to certain rewards, but it was quite another to leech off of my family estate. She hadn’t proven that she had any useful skill or asset to contribute in the way of fair trade.
Without another word to dignify Irk’s insidious and idiotic criticism, I turned my heel and stalked out of my room and towards Joan’s ill-gotten quarters. I would pull her by the hair… I certainly had plenty of experience in that domain… and drag her out if I had to. Spare the rod, spoil the witch. That was my sentiment, although my father tediously believed that faith and goodwill were enough to inspire greatness in others. I really thought that was a heap of nonsense.
No one ever learned to aspire for more if you handed them gratification on a silver platter. Mages needed to learn to earn praise, and this ridiculous pat on the head for the mere act of breathing was out of line. While I didn’t believe in endangering her, I had a whim to toss her into a closet so that she could reflect upon her present status.
Once I had made my way down the stairs and to her doorstep, I sneered at what I saw at my feet. Before I had even laid eyes upon it, I knew I had my father’s handiwork was to blame. He had emulated one of the ludicrous mats the lamb’s blood kept outside their homes in order to greet their guests. I suppose he thought this was a token to remind Joan of her roots, a gesture I found foolish because we didn’t bring her here so she could cling to her past. In agitation, I whipped my wand out of its sheath and snapped my wrist at the doorknob. Irk and Yavo’s preparations weren’t as sophisticated as they claimed because I disabled the lock without undue force.
