“Doing chores?” Nanette tried to sound surprised. “Really?”
“It builds character,” Penny said. “Or so I’m told.”
They say that about everything, Nanette thought. Getting bullied builds character. Running for a mile builds character. Getting beaten to within an inch of your life builds character…
“The younger girls will wash your clothes, if you put them in the basket by the outer door,” Penny continued. “Make sure you remove any blood first. You can collect them from the office later.”
“I see,” Nanette said. “Do they come in here?”
“No,” Penny said. “That’s why you have to clean the room.”
Nanette said nothing as she changed into the school uniform. It was uncomfortable, although hardly the worst thing she’d worn. There were beggars in rags who’d sell their souls for such warm clothing, even if it did itch like the plague. She did a little twirl, enjoying the way the dress spun. It was charmed against dirt, somewhat to her relief. The edges brushed against the floor. She let her hair hang down, for the moment. Penny would tell her, she was sure, if she thought Nanette was making a mistake.
“It could be worse,” she said. “Have you ever worn a ballgown?”
A flash of envy crossed Penny’s face. “Only once.”
So your family lives on the borderlands, Nanette guessed. She was tempted to ask, but it was more fun to play the detective and deduce what she could. You would have attended many more parties if you’d lived closer to the capital.
She put the thought out of her head as a bell rang. “Dinnertime?”
“Yeah.” Penny stood, brushing down her dress. “I’ll take you there.”
“Thanks,” Nanette said. “And how much respect should I show you outside our bedroom?”
“Just be polite.” Penny opened the door. “And don’t be rude to any of the teachers.”
Nanette smiled as they joined a throng of students hurrying down the stairs and into a large dining hall. A single raised table dominated the room, with a handful of older women — and a single man — being served by younger students. Nanette had a flashback to the Shadows of Mountaintop, although they hadn’t been forced to wait at tables. Penny led her to a table at the other end of the room and pointed to a chair, then waved to one of the younger students. She hurried off and returned with two plates of food. It tasted like fish stew.
And we’re hundreds of miles from the ocean, Nanette thought. The meal was bland, but expensive. I wonder how many of them realise it?
She studied the other senior girls thoughtfully as the room filled. They looked just like the girls she remembered, but there was something about them that nagged at her mind. She wasn’t sure what. They were more assertive than the girls she remembered, save — perhaps — for the aristocrats and magicians with years of experience. Perhaps it was the lack of boys that made them so confident, or perhaps it was the simple fact they had magic. They were powerful enough to stop a swordsman in his tracks, or permanently depress the pretensions of a lecher…
They paid her no heed as they sat and chatted amongst themselves, eating only as an afterthought. Nanette knew it was for the best, she didn’t want them to notice her, but she couldn’t help feeling hurt at the social exclusion. It brought back unhappy memories from her past. She’d been excluded as a junior and, even as a senior, she’d never quite been one of the girls. It was odd to realise she’d had a better time at Whitehall.
Although I was old enough not to let it hurt so much, she thought, as the Deputy Headmistress tapped her glass for silence. I knew better.
Putting the thought aside, she pasted an attentive expression on her face and started to listen.
Chapter 4
“Welcome, Princess,” Lauran said. She was a tall willowy girl with light brown skin and gimlet eyes. “Did you sleep well?”
Nanette gave her a nasty look as she followed Penny into the classroom. Penny had introduced her to a handful of other girls, all of whom seemed to take an instant dislike to her. Nanette wasn’t sure if that was deliberate — Penny didn’t strike her as being devious enough to socially isolate her, at least from her own clique — but it was a little annoying. In her experience, it was only a matter of time before snide remarks and taunts gave way to jinxes and hexes. She could have deflected them, at the cost of admitting she was better at magic than she claimed. She’d have to make a show of practicing…
Or let them underestimate me, she reminded herself. Compared to nearly dying, being hexed was nothing. Better they think of me an idiot.
She surveyed the classroom thoughtfully as the rest of the girls filed in. Thirty desks and chairs, each rickety and old. Penny had warned her not to sit until the doors were closed, cautioning her that the older students had already picked their chairs. It was good thinking on her part, Nanette supposed as the door closed, but it was just as irritating as everything else. The only free chairs were right at the front. She sat down reluctantly, mildly surprised someone hadn’t cast a whoopee charm on the seat. That would have been a fine start to the day.
A wave of magic ran through the room as the teacher strode out of the backroom and took her place in front of the desks. Nanette rather thought she would have identified the Charms Mistress even without Penny’s rather slanted take on the teaching staff. Mistress Jens looked very much like the other charms teachers she’d met, right down to the tight-lipped demeanour and wooden ruler in hand. She’d smack a student’s hand, rather than let them cast an imprecise and potentially dangerous charm. Her dark face, darker eyes and grim disposition made it clear no one would dare misbehave in her class.
“Open your textbooks to the current chapter,” Mistress Jens said. She directed a stern look at Nanette. “That’s chapter seven, in case you were wondering.”
Nanette didn’t have to work to feign embarrassment. Nadine would have been in for a nasty shock if she hadn’t read the preceding chapters — and how could she, when she didn’t even know when and where she’d be joining the school? Nanette had passed through the section last year, but Nadine might not even have started. She pursued her lips as she found the right section, trying to pretend to be having difficulty reading. It wasn’t that much of a pretence. The textbook was written in a spidery hand that was difficult to comprehend.
The teacher launched into a long and complicated lecture, detailing how one could adapt a simple levitation charm to fly. Nanette would have been fascinated, under other circumstances. The idea of flying sounded appealing until someone cast a cancellation charm and sent the unfortunate magician falling to her doom, but Mistress Jens seemed to believe it was eminently survivable. She talked about a flurry of rotating charms, each one providing a different aspect of the whole. Nanette had trouble following the explanation. She was grimly sure Nadine would have been lost, right from the start.
She rubbed her forehead as she scanned the page, making a show of having problems reading the text. Nadine could read, if the reports were accurate, but not very well. Her parents probably hadn’t put her nose to the grindstone and forced her to learn. The nobility schooled their daughters, but some of the more old-fashioned families thought it a waste of time. It wouldn’t do to give the girls ideas. And, of course, it might make them unmarriageable.