The class wore on. Duchene cast a handful of emotion-inducing spells, a handful on the borderline between legal and illegal, and encouraged the girls to talk about their feelings. Nanette said as little as possible — she couldn’t help noting that Lillian said nothing — while the other girls talked, discussing how the spells made them feel and what they wanted to do about it. She wondered, sourly, if Duchene was bending the laws to breaking point. She might not be directly invading their minds, but she was certainly gaining insight into how they thought. It was something to consider later.
“For homework, I want you to practice your breathing exercises,” Duchene finished, when the bell finally rang. “There’s no need to do anything else, not now.”
She swept out of the room. The girls hurried after her, save for a couple who pinched Lillian before running out. Nanette opened her mouth to say something — anything — but closed it again without speaking. If Lillian was anything like her, she wouldn’t want fake sympathy from an older student. No, she’d want something Nanette couldn’t give. She gave the younger girl what privacy she could instead, turning her eyes away as she made her way out of the classroom and up the stairs. It was all she could do.
Her thoughts were a churning mess by the time she reached her room. Duchene had, deliberately or not, unleashed a wave of emotions Nanette really didn’t want to consider, certainly not when she was in enemy territory. What did she want? She knew some of the answers — power, respect, a father — but not all of them. She wanted appreciation as well as power and… she swallowed hard as she stepped through the door, took off her blazer and lay down on the bed. Did Duchene suspect something? Or was it merely just another hurdle she’d have to surmount?
She closed her eyes and reached out with her mind, studying the wards pulsing through the walls. They didn’t seem to be spying on her, much to her relief. It wasn’t unknown for magic schools to keep a close eye on their students, although there were limits. She studied them carefully, trying to determine what would trigger an alarm. Dark magic? Lethal spells? Or something that actually killed someone? The spells clearly didn’t respond to pranks or half the student body would be in permanent detention.
I can work with it, she mused, as she parsed out the wards. In some ways, they were less complex than Mountaintop’s. I should be able to complete my mission without setting off an alarm.
The door opened. Penny stepped into the room, her cheeks flushed. “Flying is the greatest!”
Nanette sat up. “I’ll take your word for it,” she said, amused. “How long did it take you to get out of Emotional Stability?”
“Months.” Penny undressed rapidly, dropped her clothes on the floor and headed to the washroom. “You have to get in touch with your inner child and tell her to grow up.”
Which makes perfect sense, if you were allowed to have a childhood, Nanette thought, sardonically. Her childhood hadn’t been the worst, but it hadn’t been the best either. How old were you when you started to really work?
Penny stuck her head out of the washroom. “Toss me a towel, will you?”
“Sure.” Nanette picked up a towel and threw it to her. She couldn’t help thinking Penny looked pretty with her hair hanging low. “You don’t know how to dry yourself?”
Penny shrugged. “I prefer towels,” she said, as she rubbed herself dry. “Don’t you?”
“Sometimes,” Nanette said. “I…”
“We have an hour before the bell goes for tea,” Penny said. “I think you can teach me a few things.”
Nanette smiled, coldly. “Like what?”
“How to present myself,” Penny said. “I’ll only have one chance to make a good impression, when I come out.”
“Which will be next year,” Nanette said. A student was still considered a child until she graduated, if she recalled correctly. Aristo families were fond of delaying adulthood as long as possible, parents or guardians taking advantage of the time to arrange matters to their satisfaction before they finally let their children go. Her uncle might have done that to her, if she’d had anything worth the effort. “Right?”
“Yeah.” Penny sat on the bed, naked. “How should I present myself?”
“I think you should get dressed first,” Nanette said, mischievously. She allowed her eyes to blatantly wander up and down Penny’s body. “Unless you really want them to see you nude.”
Penny gave her a sharp look as she stood and picked up a robe. “Answer the question.”
Nanette smirked. “It depends when and where you come out,” she said. “If you are presented to the king’s court, you allow the herald to announce you, you walk down the stairs and curtsey to the king and queen. You try not to trip over your dress because, if you do, everyone will be talking about it long after you’re dead. And then you dance with your paramours. You have to do at least one of each type of dance.”
“Why?” Penny looked dubious. “With the same man?”
“If you like,” Nanette shrugged. “If you already have a match, you’ll dance with him and him alone. If not, you can dance with whoever you like. The point is to show off your dancing skills. They’ll be watching you to make sure there’s nothing obviously wrong with you.”
“I see, I think,” Penny said. “Wouldn’t they trust my parents to tell them about me?”
“No.” Nanette recalled her etiquette lessons with a shudder. There was a practical explanation for everything, from formal manners to dancing, but they tended to be very cold-blooded. “They’ll want to see for themselves.”
She felt a twinge of pity, mingled with contempt. Her teachers had pointed out that a girl who had her season was being put on display, like a prize horse. She was being sold to the highest bidder, to someone who might be kind and loving or someone who’d see her as little more than a brood cow. Penny was a magician — and she had to be powerful, if she’d survived five years at school — but she’d still be sold. Nanette wondered, idly, why she didn’t simply walk away. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t find employment elsewhere.
“Cheek,” Penny said. “I suppose it might be better if I showed up naked.”
“People would definitely talk about you,” Nanette agreed, dryly. “But not in a good way.”
Penny stood. “Show me how to dance,” she said. “Properly.”
“I’m surprised you don’t know,” Nanette said. “Why…?”
“Because my parents never go to parties,” Penny said. There was a world of pain in her words. “And I never get to practice.”
“I see,” Nanette said. She stood, brushing down her dress. “I’ll be the man, shall I?”
She held out her arm. Dancing was something she enjoyed, sometimes. It was fun, when it wasn’t loaded with meaning. Or when the steps were simply too complicated to follow easily. It wasn’t easy to find partners who didn’t read something else into her willingness to dance. She wondered, sourly, why Penny hadn’t been able to find dancing partners in Laughter. The school did socialise its students, didn’t it?
“Let me take the lead,” she said, as she took Penny’s hand. It was an opportunity, one that shouldn’t be missed. “And follow me.”
Penny smiled. “Men like to lead, don’t they?”
“Yeah.” Nanette allowed herself a tight smile as she pressed her hand against Penny’s back and stroked it lightly. “And some of them can get very intimate on the dance floor.”