Crisanta Knight: Eternity's End

CHAPTER 2 MY LAST FIRST DAY-3

Our teacher glanced around and her eyes landed on me in the center of the group. “Everyone to the left of Crisanta Knight, grab a partner. Everyone to the right, please have a seat. We will switch in ten minutes.”

“Um, Madame Molina.” I raised my hand. “Do I go left or right?”

“Do you have a preference?”

I glanced at Chance and Daniel on either side of me.

Uhhhh . . .

“Go right,” Professor Pasha answered for me. “Hustle, everyone.”

Phew!

Daniel, SJ, Marie, Jason, and Blue headed toward the chairs positioned against the wall. I followed. Girtha had been standing on Chance’s other side, so she elbowed him and offered her hand. He took it with a small smile but glanced over his shoulder at me as he walked away.

Professor Pasha clapped his hands. “Waltz positions. Men—proper frames. No stooped shoulders; you’re not pouring drinks in a saloon. Ladies—chins up, even if you are taller than your partners. And waltz!” He pointed dramatically at our musicians and they began to play.

My classmates moved to the music as Madame Molina and Professor Pasha prowled around observing and correcting them.

“I still don’t get this tradition,” Daniel commented from our seats. “There’s already a ball every month. Why do seniors have to put on this big show at the end of fall semester?”

“Tradition does not always need a reason, Daniel,” Marie replied. “Sometimes it is simply there because it is beautiful. I personally love the Ball of the First Frost.” Her eyes got a dreamy look. “All the seniors dancing in sync in their specially made attire . . . You did not get to see it last year because Tara-Mauvrey tried to kill Crisa, but trust me, Daniel, it is quite a sight.”

“My bad,” I said.

Daniel and I exchanged a smirk. Then I glanced at Marie. “Speaking of Mauvrey, I just realized she’s not here. Where is your new roommate?”

“Mauvrey asked Lady Agnue if she could postpone her graduation,” Marie explained. “She feels understandably cheated of her youth since Tara possessed her for so long. As one of the few adults who is fully aware of the situation, the headmistress was sympathetic and agreed to hold Mauvrey back a year. The cover story is that Mauvrey failed too many classes and needs to repeat her junior term.”

“If that’s what she wants, then I’m happy for her,” I said. “And hey, now she’s in the same grade as Javier.”

“Maybe they can be dance partners for this next year,” Blue suggested. “They got along really well over the summer. Good chemistry makes dancing, fighting, and everything easier.”

“Agreed,” Jason said, casually putting his arm around Blue. She smiled at him.

My eyes went to Daniel’s. He opened his mouth to say something but was cut off when the ballroom doors opened. A guard came in and moved to speak with Madame Molina as Professor Pasha continued instructing the dancers. After a moment, the guard departed and she approached our group at the back of the room.

“Crisanta Knight?”

I sat up straighter. “Yes?”

“Lady Agnue would like to see you in her office. If you do not return before the end of the period, please get the homework assignment from one of your friends.”

I nodded and our teacher returned to the dance floor. My crew looked at me.

“It’s the first day, Crisa. How are you already getting called to the principal’s office?” Blue commented.

“I have no idea. I thought Lady Agnue and I were kind of cool with each other now. Maybe she just wants to chat?”

“Careful,” Blue said, leaning back with her fingers laced behind her head. “Casual buddy-buddy conversations with our headmistress will probably disqualify you from ‘Most Likely to Rebel Against Authority.’”

“Oh hush,” I replied. “I’ll see you all later.”

I picked up my book bag and both to-go cups from the cubbies. As I moved away from the ballroom, I caught a guard passing by and offered him my second hot chocolate. “With my compliments,” I said.

“Um, wh—”

“You’re welcome.”

I continued on my way, sipping my remaining drink. The halls were clear with everyone in class, allowing me to navigate the school quickly. On the final approach to Lady Agnue’s office the serious portraits of all our former headmistresses gave me the shivers.

Running this academy had been an Agnue family tradition for generations. As such, the women in these portraits shared common features like brown hair and sharp chins. Based on their unforgiving stares, I imagined they also shared personality traits like rigidity and pragmatism. Though that could have been wrong for me to assume . . .

I paused briefly at the last painting in the row. My headmistress, Cornwallace Agnue, had a lot more layers than I’d originally given her credit for. As a girl who was all about defying expectations, perhaps it had been hypocritical of me to ever believe I knew everything about her. Yes, she’d been an uptight, rigid authority figure on my case for years. Even so, as seasons changed maybe I should have tried to see her for everything she might be, the same way I’d always wished others would see me as more than a princess or Cinderella’s daughter.

I entered the secretary’s office, which doubled as the waiting area outside my headmistress’s den. Ms. Mammers sat at her extraorganized desk and looked at me with a pout, bronze bangs grazing her eyes. “A little early in the semester for your first scolding, is it not?”

“I couldn’t agree more,” I replied, unfazed by the woman’s condescending tone. No one with a haircut shaped like a ski helmet could make you feel bad about yourself. “Is she ready for me now or should I have a seat so you and I can swap summer stories? I bet mine are super boring compared to yours.”

“Go on.” Ms. Mammers waved at the door with a scowl.

I swigged my last gulp of hot chocolate, dropped the cup in the trash, and stepped into my headmistress’s office, closing the door behind me. Lady Agnue sat at her desk. Her hair was half up and half down again, like my mood recently. The large window behind her magenta velvet chair filled the room with warm morning sunlight.

She looked up from her paperwork and smiled mildly at me. “Good morning, Miss Knight. How are you?”

“Uh, good morning, Lady Agnue. Can’t complain.” I couldn’t recall ever coming in here and having such an amiable welcome.

She gestured at the vanilla-colored chair opposite her desk. “Miss Knight, I realize this ship has long sailed, but it is our first interaction of the semester and—”

“I know, I know. Princess Rule Twelve. Never use contractions.” I gave her a sheepish smile. “Sorry. Breaking that rule is a habit.”

“Correcting you is one of mine,” she countered. “Maybe we cannot change completely.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing.”

We traded a look of vague, tentative camaraderie.

“So what can I do for you?” I asked.

“That is actually the question I intended to ask you,” Lady Agnue replied. “When your friends returned from saving you and recounted the gist of what you had experienced on Earth, I . . . well, I was deeply affected. I wanted to check on your physical and mental well-being. Starting school like everything is normal surely must be difficult.”

I blinked.

I couldn’t believe that of all people Lady Agnue was the first person to ask me directly about this—to recognize my state of being. At least out loud, anyway. My friends probably had it on the tips of their tongues constantly, but none had articulated it yet. Perhaps they were trying not to think about the horror in too much detail. Or maybe they were afraid that reminding me of it would unsettle or break me.

“I’m . . . managing,” I replied honestly. “It is only the first day of school, after all.”

“Well, if you would ever like to talk to me, or require extra time on your assignments, or need anything else to make your reintroduction more endurable, please let me know.”

“I appreciate that. We’ll see how it goes.” I awkwardly glanced around the office, eyes moving from the shelves with Pegasi bookends to the generic landscape paintings to the small picture frame on her desk. It featured a teenage boy behind the counter of an ice cream shop; he faced away from the photographer. The angle and colors of the shot made it look kind of artsy.

“How’s Mr. Zappoli?” I pointed at the picture to break the silence. “What?” Lady Agnue raised her brows and her tone.

“David Zappoli. That’s him in this picture, isn’t it? Chance took me to that ice cream shop when we stayed in Clevaunt over the summer and I met him. You grew up there, right?”

Lady Agnue eyed me carefully, a touch of the sharpness I used to see when she looked at me shone through her copper irises.

“Sorry. Did I cross a line?” I asked.

Lady Agnue finally took a deep breath. “It is fine . . . David and I have a long history. I may be a tad sensitive about it.”

“Oh. Well then, you don’t have to—”

“I took this photo,” Lady Agnue said, picking up the frame and gazing at it for a moment before placing it back down. “Before I was chosen as the next headmistress for this school, I thought about becoming a photographer.”

My eyebrows furrowed. “You didn’t always know you were going to be headmistress? I thought running this school was a generational thing for your family.”

“It is. The headmistress title and responsibility have been passed to women in my family since this institution was established. However, not necessarily from mother to daughter, as the women who run this school cannot be married. My aunt bestowed the role upon me when she married and moved west.”

I sat there, dumbfounded for a second. Then I huffed with indistinct amusement.

“Something funny to share with the class, Miss Knight?”

“No, I just . . . I’m sorry again.”

“For what this time? I need to keep a list with you.”

“For thinking that just because you made the rules for us didn’t mean you were free from dealing with those others set for you.” I blinked and processed this seriously and humbly for another moment. “You had no more of a say about ending up at this school than I did.”

“We all have a say in what happens in our lives, Miss Knight, regardless of the Author. Rules, prophecies, tradition, authority—they have influence, of course. But I educate main characters at this academy, not ensemble characters. So although I want my ladies to do as they are told while on campus for their own good and protection, when you graduate and enter the real world, I expect you to take the reins and make something of yourself with the tools you have acquired here. Princess voices were meant for more than just singing to woodland creatures. Everyone has a voice in where their story takes them. The difference between a protagonist and an ensemble character is using it out loud, not just in your head and heart.”