The Pass Phrase 7

CHAPTER 7

BOARDED AT SCHOOL

Little stood in a parlour, waiting next to a trunk that was apparently hers now. It was full of clothes and paraphernalia that she hadn’t had time to look through yet. On the other side of a glass door, Mrs. Winters was talking with a tremulously elderly woman in all black clothing, with tiny glasses and tightly curled white hair.

She couldn’t hear them, even though they were very close. The instant the door had shut, their voices had completely cut off.

‘Magic,’ she thought, not for the first time. ‘I think that’s one of the things this finishing school teaches, if not the main thing. Are all noble girls taught magic?’

The idea had never even occurred to her before.

Whispers.

Little turned her head. Three girls were watching her from another doorway. She managed a smile.

One of them grinned back, showing perfect white teeth.

She ducked her head again, feeling optimistic. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad.

…no.

The pit in her stomach was back.

‘When they realize I’m not one of them, they’re not going to be friendly.’

This whole episode had her blindsided. What was going on? Was she fired? What was going to happen to her belongings at the house? Would anyone tell her sister where she was?

Little was dying to know. She wanted to go back.

‘I am not going to mention my sister to that witch. If she doesn’t already know, I’m not going to be the one to tell her.’

She clung to that chance. Mr. Pine had been honest when he’d sneered that no one cared about people like her. It would honestly be surprising if Mrs. Winters knew about the familial connections among her staff.

‘No one touch Sissie,’ Little prayed. ‘I’ll get through this however it ends. But leave her alone.’

The office door clicked as it opened. She glanced back and saw that the other girls had disappeared.

“Well, then.” The elderly lady examined Little. “Miss Nova, you will be under my care. I am Headmistress Evine. Please follow me. Your luggage will be brought to you shortly.”

“Goodbye,” Mrs. Winters said. Her eyes glinted in the semidarkness.

Little hesitated for a moment. “Goodbye, Mrs. Winters,” she said. She didn’t want to be here but- “Thank you for helping me.”

That was more for the benefit of the school mistress, Little decided. She ducked her head and followed. She didn’t want to look like an uncivilized, ungrateful little brat. Not when she was in an entirely unfamiliar place, with strangers.

Headmistress Evine led her down a hall and then up a flight of stairs. “For the night, you’ll have a room to yourself,” she said. Little would have missed it if she wasn’t paying attention. “You weren’t expected, after all. In the morning I shall reconsider bedding arrangements. For now, you have the attic room.”

The lowest status room in the house, Little knew. “Yes, headmistress,” she said.

“Wake up is at 6:00,” Headmistress Evine continued. “There will be a knock on your door. Be dressed and in the breakfast room at 6:30. The first class is deportment, at 7:00. The rest of your schedule will be explained after that.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Little didn’t know if she could sleep in that late in the day. But she could wait in her room until she heard a knock.

‘My room,’ she marveled at the thought. ‘I’ve never had my own room before.’

She didn’t care that it was an undesirable location, in the hottest part of the house. Privacy? That was a luxury.

When they reached the room, the headmistress stopped and gave Little an examination. “Your nails are too short,” she said, dropping the offending hand. “At least it seems you clean them.”

If she was meant to answer that, she didn’t have a chance to. Two men came up the stairs, huffing and puffing with her luggage. The headmistress unlocked the door with a brass key and then stepped aside to let them pass. “Leave it by the window,” she directed. “That’s fine. You’re dismissed. Nova, I will see you in the morning.”

Little managed a curtsy. The pained expression on the Headmistress’s face instantly told her it was a mistake.

‘...because I did it like a servant,’ she realized. ‘I don’t know how young ladies do it. I need to pay attention and copy someone.’

When the door closed behind her and she was alone, Little sunk down onto the bed and looked around. How could this be her life? She looked at the little rug, the raised bed frame, at the beaded hem of the borrowed dress.

Self doubt crept in.

‘I’m not being tricked,’ she told herself, ‘I’m not manipulated. Just because I’m enjoying luxuries doesn’t mean that they’re buying me.’

Still. Some part of her was burning with desire. She wanted this, she wanted more.

‘I don’t care,’ she thought, carefully removing the expensive gown. ‘I don’t care if all these rich girls hate me. If it was true… if I could become so strong that they’d have to respect me anyway, maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad life.’

She crawled under the sheets and went promptly to sleep.

As she had thought, Little was awake before any knock. She paced a little. It was not easy to see in the weak light, but she investigated the contents of her trunk. What dress would be suitable? She didn’t know. There were some books- was she meant to bring anything with her to breakfast?

Anxiety crept up, but she forced it down.

‘This isn’t life or death.’ The thought calmed her. ‘What are they going to do to me? It couldn’t be as hard as the labor I do in the skullery. And it won’t actually be dangerous.’

When she thought about it like that… The stakes were fairly low, at least in terms of messing up here.

‘If I get punished or laughed at for making mistakes, it won’t matter in the long run.’

She handled the situation by picking the dress that she wanted to wear the most. It was white, a ludicrous luxury that made her laugh when she saw it. It didn’t have the sheer sleeves of the orange dress but it was cut in the same style of billowing sleeves that tucked in neatly at the wrist.

When the knock arrived, she was already dressed. She opened the door and startled the servant on the other side. “I don’t know where breakfast is,” Little said, practical and confident. “Show me, please.”

The girl blinked rapidly and then dipped into a deep curtsy. “Of course, Miss. This way, please.”

She swept into the room as if she owned it, head held high. The room was about halfway full. A couple tables had no one at them, some were nearly full. Little glanced around and seated herself with 3 other girls who seemed to be relatively near her age. “Good morning,” she said, and then poured herself a glass of water.  “I’m Nova, and you?”

Two of the girls glanced at each other. The third girl was looking down at the table, playing with the food on her fork.

One of the friendlier girls had a pointy face and ridiculously long brown eye lashes. The other was brave enough to speak first.

“I’m Mila, and this is Jaunice and Karava,” said the tallest girl. She had dark eyes and curly hair. Her dress was navy blue. Little privately thought this might be the only girl she’d manage to remember. Jaundice still didn’t lift her head, though Little caught her eyes darting over.

“Charmed to make your acquaintance,” Little said. “Please tell me about the classes, how is it here?”

She leaned back and listened, trying to remember the hints as to which teachers were mean and what classes would be easy.

The other girls seemed nice enough, but

she wasn't retaining much personal information. She was mostly trying to look confident and to get the lay of the area.

“Nova.”

She startled at the unexpected friendly voice. Little looked up to see a plain-looking girl smiling down at her. The first thing that Little noticed was that her dress was made of a very fine quality of fabric. The second thing she noticed was that the new girl had very familiar icy blue eyes.

“Mama told me to look for you,” said the new girl with witchy eyes.

Little looked for other traces of the striking Mrs. Winters in that face, and failed. She managed a smile.

“Oh, thank you…” She trailed off.

The new girl put a delicate little hand to her cheek. “Nova is a distant relative of mine,” she lied cheerfully. “My mother is sponsoring her.”

Little had never been this close to the daughter of the house. She would have guessed the girl was much prettier.

“Oh, really?” Mila said. Her eyebrows shot up and she glanced rapidly between the two. “Cleo, that’s lovely. It’s like you have a sister!”

Cleo beamed. “Two!” She chirped.

Little froze.

“Your little sister will come later, right?” Cleo didn’t give Little a chance to answer before she sped on. “I’m so pleased. Sit with me at lunch?” She directed the question to Little.

She nodded and smiled at Cleo. “I would love to,” she said, internally screaming.

‘They know about Sissie. They always knew. Why is she saying this? Why is she lying?’

Cleo clasped her hands in front of her face. “I’m so happy! Enjoy calligraphy, I’ll see you in the afternoon.” She flounced out of the room, leaving Little feeling stunned.

There was a lull in conversation.

“Well.” Little was pretty sure Karava was the girl who spoke next. “You didn’t tell us about your relations. That’s…”

“Admirable,” Mila cut in. She giggled. “I’d have started with that if I had those kinds of connections.”

And just like that, Little’s place in the social hierarchy was neatly settled, at the top.