Three Days Later:
Emma walked beside Gira, and behind Prince Shiloh, as the duo accompanied her to her classes.
She inhaled deeply intermittently during the walk, to calm her fraying nerves, to still her busy mind. It had taken her two days to fully recuperate from the expanse of energy she had meted out, both during her journey here, and during the duel with the professors.
She wondered how the duo was doing now. Did they still have the dignity to be teaching before their students? She didn’t care. She only cared that during these three days, her friends and her sister hadn’t woken up. She had kept up with checking up on them daily, despite Prince Shiloh’s lame threats to keep her confined for a month for moving around, instead of resting.
She looked at the back of his head, as he strolled confidently in front of her, and tried to guess his age. She couldn’t. She knew better, however, not to assign an age to him, based on his looks. She was in the supernatural world now; she couldn’t just take things at face value.
But one thing she would gladly take anytime, anywhere, was that he was handsome; not the handsomeness of growing boys, but the handsomeness of men-the beauty of a grown male. He still gave her flutters in her belly, and she didn’t think she would be able to avoid him even if she chose to. According to Gira, he would be one of her teachers. That had been the only indicator that she wouldn’t be placed in a lower-class level.
As she walked in the hallway, with classrooms by either side, she took note of the many eyes of students staring at her, from their class windows, but she didn’t turn aside to acknowledge them. Her gaze was head front, until prince Shiloh came to stand in front of the last class at the hallway.
Without knocking on the door of the classroom, which seemed different and removed from the others, he opened the wooden door, and stepped into the room with no more than twenty people. Gira however stopped at the doorpost.
“My job is done.” She whispered, gesturing with her hand that Emma should walk into the classroom after the prince.
Emma furrowed her eyebrows, and looked at the beautiful lady that had been assigned to keep her abreast with information about the academy at every turn, who needed a lesson or two about self esteem and confidence. And although she was curious about the past of the lady, she had managed to keep a tight lid over her lips, bidding for the right time. “You are not following me in?”
Gira shook her head. “No. I’m stopping here. The prince would handle the rest.” Without any more words, Gira turned around and left Emma to her fate.
Emma sighed deeply, looked at the door which had shut in her face after the prince had walked in, and sighed again. She knew she couldn’t keep the prince waiting, she had already taken a load out of his time. Sighing again, for the third time, she pushed the door open, and stepped in.
The first thing, or rather student, that her eyes landed on was on the black girl, who had been cheering her on during her brawl with the professors. The latter was sitting in the middle row of the chair arrangement. There was an empty seat beside her. Emma knew she had found her seat. Then, the black girl winked at her. Emma held back a smile, and returned her attention to the prince who had been talking all this while.
This girl was trouble. She thought, keeping a bland face as the prince spoke about the students being helpful to her, and making sure she is settled enough to thrive in the academy. And then he called her to introduce herself.
Was there a need for that? She wondered, however, she took two steps toward the professor, before turning to face the students. “I am Emma. That’s all you need to know about me…for now.”
The last clause was added for the benefits of those who might relegate her audacity to pride. Not that she cared, but she didn’t want a bad image on her first day.
‘You can’t help it, Emma…people think whatever they want to. Just be yourself.’
Eden was right. She just had to be herself. After all, her name was one of the few things she was sure of, about herself.
“Okay, you heard the young lady. Her name is Emma. I will leave her to your care, students.” Then the prince turned to her. “I hope you have a nice stay with us, Emma.”
Emma nodded, maintaining a steady gaze with the prince. “Thank you.”
The prince gave her a curt nod, before walking out of the class, leaving her to navigate through the waters alone.
***
Keturah stopped by her door and tried to communicate with Tempest for the hundredth time through their special communication channel, which they had managed to create for times like this, and got nothing in reply. Where was her friend?
Day by day, she couldn’t help but feel that her friend had managed to eavesdrop on Margo’s words about Malone. If that was so, it would explain the disappearance of her friend, but Keturah didn’t want to believe it, only because she couldn’t conceive the idea of Tempest grieving alone. Her heart constricted at that point.
She had never been in a relationship with a male before, well except for that one time-a secret she would carry to the grave-but she had loved. She loved her friends, and she loved her community. And anything that happened to them always tore her inside. How much more Tempest? She couldn’t imagine the pain Tempest might be going through, if the latter had found out.
“No, she can’t find out.”
She opened her door, and walked in, half hoping that Tempest would be at the kitchen preparing her favorite dish. But life didn’t really ride on the wings of wishes. The house was just as she left it, until she saw the envelope that was lying on the center table.
At first, she thought that Tempest had left a letter-never mind that the habit was impossible-but then when she opened the letter, she knew it hadn’t come from Tempest. It came from Leonarya.
‘I found you out. You are dead.’
And the first thought that crossed Keturah’s mind, right before she received a huge blow at the back of her head, was a contemplation on how Leonarya had found out her place.