Miss Nobody’s Strike-Back

Chapter 3: Victoria Pembroke

Chapter 3: Victoria Pembroke

By the third day at Ashford Academy, Alice Wrenford had already heard the name Victoria Pembroke whispered enough times to know who ruled the school. It was as though Victoria’s very presence was woven into the fabric of the academy, her name drifting from her lips in awe or envy. Everyone seemed to orbit around her, and even the teachers treated her with a level of deference that didn’t extend to anyone else.

Alice had only caught glimpses of her from a distance — a flash of golden curls, a glint of expensive jewelry, and always a crowd trailing behind her. The other students parted when she walked through the halls, as if royalty had entered the room. And in a way, she was. Victoria was the daughter of a baroness, born into wealth and privilege far beyond what Alice could comprehend. It was said that her family owned vast estates, that they dined with the queen herself, and that her mother was a close friend of the royal court.

In stark contrast, Alice, the scholarship student, was barely noticed — or worse, mocked. Victoria didn’t need to be told about Alice; she had surely known within hours of her arrival. At Ashford Academy, everyone knew everything about everyone, especially if you were someone as out of place as Alice.

But it wasn’t until the afternoon of her third day that Alice would finally come face-to-face with Victoria Pembroke.

It happened in the library. Alice had sought refuge there, hoping for some peace amidst the relentless gossip and whispers that followed her everywhere. The library was vast and lined with towering shelves filled with books on every subject imaginable. The smell of aged paper and polished wood was comforting, a quiet sanctuary away from the judgmental eyes of her classmates.

Alice was tucked into a corner with a stack of books, trying to focus on her studies, when she heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching. The soft murmur of voices followed, accompanied by light laughter. She glanced up just as a group of girls rounded the corner, and at the center of them was Victoria.

The first thing Alice noticed was how stunning Victoria was. Her hair, golden and thick, was styled in loose curls that framed her face perfectly. Her gown, a deep emerald green, shimmered with every movement, catching the light that streamed through the library windows. Her skin was flawless, her lips painted a perfect shade of rose, and her eyes, a piercing blue, seemed to see everything at once. But it wasn’t just her beauty that commanded attention; it was the way she carried herself. There was an effortless confidence in the way Victoria moved, as though the world itself bent to her will.

The group of girls surrounding her, Lydia Thorne, Evelyn Carrow, and Isabelle Fairchild, hung on her every word, their laughter loud and exaggerated at whatever Victoria said. They were the same girls who had taunted Alice in the garden only the day before, and seeing them now made Alice’s stomach twist.

Unfortunately, Victoria’s gaze fell on Alice almost immediately. For a moment, their eyes met, and Alice felt a jolt of nerves. She quickly looked down, pretending to focus on her book, but it was too late. Victoria had seen her.

“Well, well, what have we here?” Victoria’s voice was smooth and lilting, but there was a sharpness beneath it that Alice didn’t miss. The other girls immediately quieted as they followed Victoria’s gaze toward Alice.

“Miss Nobody, of course,” Lydia chimed in, her voice dripping with amusement. The other girls snickered.

Alice’s heart sank. The nickname had spread faster than she had anticipated. She had hoped to stay unnoticed for a little while longer, to settle into the rhythm of the school without drawing too much attention. But it seemed that fate, or rather Victoria Pembroke, had other plans.

Victoria stepped closer, her eyes never leaving Alice. “So, you’re the scholarship girl,” she said, her tone cold and calculating. “The one they’ve let in out of charity.” She didn’t even bother to hide the disdain in her voice.

Alice forced herself to look up, meeting Victoria’s gaze. “My name is Alice,” she said quietly but firmly, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity.

Victoria raised an eyebrow, a mocking smile playing on her lips. “Alice. Of course.” She said the name as though it were something distasteful, something beneath her.

The girls behind her laughed again, but Victoria silenced them with a mere glance. Her attention remained fixed on Alice, studying her with a mixture of curiosity and contempt.

“What makes you think you belong here?” Victoria asked, her voice barely above a whisper, but the words were razor-sharp. “This isn’t the place for charity cases. You may have fooled the headmistress, but we all know the truth. You don’t belong at Ashford. You’ll never belong.”

Alice felt the sting of the words, each one a deliberate wound. She had known this would be difficult, that the academy was a world she was unprepared for, but hearing it so plainly spoken out loud — by someone like Victoria — was a different kind of pain. She clenched her hands under the table, willing herself to stay calm, to not give Victoria the satisfaction of seeing her falter.

“I earned my place here,” Alice said, her voice steady despite the fear swirling inside her. “Just as much as anyone else.”

Victoria’s smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. “Oh, darling,” she said softly, leaning in just a little. “You might have earned a scholarship, but that doesn’t mean you’re one of us. You’re a visitor. Temporary. And once this little experiment fails, you’ll be gone, just like that.”

The finality in her tone was chilling, as though Victoria had already decided Alice’s fate.

Alice didn’t know how to respond. Part of her wanted to stand up and shout, to prove to Victoria that she wasn’t just some charity case, that she did belong. But another part of her, the quieter part, wondered if Victoria was right. Could she ever really belong in a place like Ashford?

Victoria straightened, satisfied with the silence that followed her words. She turned to her friends, who were watching the exchange with barely concealed glee. “Come along,” she said airily. “We have more important things to do than waste time with Miss Nobody.”

As the group moved away, their laughter fading into the distance, Alice sat there, her mind spinning. Her hands were shaking slightly, and she gripped the edge of the table to steady herself. She had been prepared for difficulty, but she hadn’t expected it to come so swiftly, or so cruelly. Victoria Pembroke had made it clear — Alice was an outsider, and she intended to keep her that way.

But as the weight of the encounter settled over her, Alice felt something stir inside her — something that hadn’t been there before. It wasn’t just fear or sadness; it was anger, small but fierce, like a spark in the dark. Victoria might think she had won, that her words had cut Alice down, but Alice wasn’t about to give up so easily.

She might be an outsider here. She might be “Miss Nobody” in their eyes. But that didn’t mean she had to stay that way.

Alice gathered her books, her jaw clenched in determination. If Victoria Pembroke thought she could scare her away, she was mistaken. Alice had fought for her place at Ashford Academy, and she wasn’t about to let anyone — not even the baroness’s daughter — take that away from her.

As she walked out of the library, her steps were heavier but more resolute. Victoria Pembroke might be the queen of Ashford Academy, but Alice wasn’t going to bow.