Chapter Fourteen
Alexandr Miroslav
Thaddeus Saltford-Windsor wasn’t an ugly teenager, and I could draw that conclusion through his current face. Except, I would have always doubted whether it was an absolute fact until I saw it with my own eyes.
Today happened to be that day.
It had started out routinely, typical and mundane.
Wake up, get dressed, head to the Dining Hall for breakfast, listen to August drone about his latest academic endeavor, attend my classes, attempt to keep up, lunch, attend more classes, go back to my dorm, lay in bed and play with the idea of extracurriculars, have Wolf barge in and ask a question he didn’t need an answer to, usually under that guise to steal more cigarettes, study, head to the library for the society meeting, and that brought me here.
Here being August’s nosy antics.
However, I digress, he didn’t do it on purpose. Thaddeus was late, and with nothing to do, he began opening and closing several randomly selected books on the shelves, until he stumbled on the photographed records of previous Founder’s Society members.
It didn’t take long for his gasp to have the rest of us surrounding him.
“Look, that’s Thaddeus.” August pointed at what we were all already looking at.
“Oh god, he had a slicked-down side-part.” Paris cringed next to me, and I wanted to laugh at what she’d chosen to focus on.
“He looks like a sexy detective,” Ajax snorted out.
I pointedly tilted my head and looked around the second page; void save for the list of names.
Marigold pointed at the rest of the students in the photo and said in a soft tone, “Who are the others?”
The row of seven students photographed, reeking of wealth and power, even through the paper, consisted of five boys and two girls. They stood in Castle Hill attire, similar to ours.
None of them looked recognizable as my eyes roamed over the photo, taking in all of their faces.
Except…
I grabbed the book from August roughly, in too much of a trance to care about how I might be portraying myself.
“Hey!”
I walked to the table and laid the book out, sitting there on the floor and looking through each name, trying to match them with the faces. “Rain…” At my voice, she walked over.
The rest followed suit and sat around me, too curious to remain in the dark. “Can you match the names to the students?”
Wolf tried to catch my eyes, but I refused to meet his gaze.
Rain remained standing, too skeptical to approach without an acceptable reason. “Why?”
“You can act uninterested, but even August can read the eagerness in your face. This is a win-win.”
Paris blinked at me, most likely gaping at my forwardness, but I was too impatient to find out.
Anyone could have the same name and face structure as Mr Browne, right?
Silently, Rain Atlas Jett sat on the lush carpet with enough class to put any royal to shame before looking over the book’s open pages. “Alright, well, we know that,” she pointed at a tall student with a look of indifference on their face, “is Thaddeus.”
She looked to the two students flanking him, one with an arm over his shoulder and an almost hidden smirk and the other barely leaning on him, but the familiarity was there.
Her finger moved to the list of names to the side and slid down before pausing and tapping the first one, speaking in an almost guilty tone, “That one there is Evander… Barthelow Kingsley.”
Wolf flinched.
Ajax whistled.
“Your brother was in the Founder’s Society?” August asked with wide eyes, but Wolf looked as though he’d seen a ghost. His lips parted, but no words came out.
Wolf had an older brother?
An older brother who was in the Founder’s Society?
The revelations just kept coming and I didn’t know what to be more concerned about.
And from August’s tone, Wolf’s brother wasn’t a shock. So, what was it?
Why was this topic so… taboo?
If Wolf’s brother were currently sitting on the board, wouldn’t he help him? Prepare him?
I knew the Kingsleys were on the board, and if Wolf’s father is dead…
Wolf becoming king.
Oh.
Marigold looked away, almost afraid of what might happen next, but I turned back to Rain. “And?”
Rain blinked and stumbled over her next words, a first, before righting herself, though her eyes continued to bounce back to Wolf every once in a while. “Uhm… Uh, Cassius Vale. Yes, that should be Cassius Vale. I’ve met his brother before.” She pointed to the tall boy leaning closer to Thaddeus.
I didn’t let my heartbeat quicken by speculation alone, but the sweat gathering in my palms had other plans. “Who’s Cassius Vale?”
If Thaddeus looked like an older version of himself now, Cassius looked as if he’d grown to be two different people.
Paris leaned forward and eyed the arrogant-looking boy before mumbling, “Cassius… I’ve heard that name before, but where?”
All eyes turned to her as she looked up to the ceiling and thought.
A beat of silence passed, another, then another before she snapped her fingers and said, “Ms Ransom. She said it last week.”
I didn’t understand the context, and I was sure it showed, because she looked at us and explained, “Last week, during lunch, I went into the Teacher’s Lounge because I needed the dean’s signature for an absence.
I overheard Ms Ransom talk to someone. I could see her, but the other person was standing around a corner. ’”
I opened my mouth to speak, to ask her what they might have sounded like, but Paris spoke up again, “She said something along the lines of ‘Cassius would have mentioned it’, but I didn’t focus long enough to hear any response.”
I didn’t need to ask, however. I was already sure, but perhaps I wanted her to lie. For her to tell me that she’d heard wrong. Or that it turned out to be someone entirely different.
But it isn’t possible.
Cassius Vale.
Mr Browne.
It all made sense now.
Was this all planned out?
Was Cassius Vale sponsoring me?
Has he been preparing me for this since–? Since when? How long has he been planning this?
A rush of anger ran through my blood, hot and fast. Dipping into every nerve and organ, lighting them ablaze.
A plan was already forming in my head; stomping towards the teacher’s quarter and sucker punching the old man before he could let out even a word of explanation.
I was going to kill him and burn him like I did–
A soft hand placed itself above my tight fist under the low table and my jolt would have been noticeable had Paris not spoken, “Who else is in the photo?”
Ajax leaned forward. “He looks familiar. Maybe I’ve met him at a gala?” He trailed off but I didn’t let him finish his thoughts.
Rain met my eyes, and she must have caught on faster than the others, because she looked conflicted in revealing what we both concluded. I shook my head, subtly, and she narrowed her eyes. In the end, she chose to let it go, but I was sure she would remind me that her silence wasn’t free.
Paris’ hand remained above my fist, now relaxed, until Thaddeus arrived.
Though the inner turmoil was still there, until my flesh felt like an unreachable itch, one that wouldn’t go away no matter how deep I scratched. The questions ran through my mind until I couldn’t understand up from down.
“Well, that should be… Matthew Queen. The blonde hair is blinding.” Rain noted.
His smile was just as blinding as his hair. He had a golden boy image about him. Bright blue eyes and a soft posture. He looked innocent, as if untouched by anything bad that had ever occurred at Castle Hill. As if the three devilish-looking boys standing next to him were as good-natured as him.
Callum Queen looked a lot like his father, save for the personality.
I know bad men, and unlike Callum, his father didn’t look it. Is that why he didn’t appoint his own son?
“The girl at the front is Adama Osei. I’ve never met her, though.”
“I did,” Paris said absentmindedly, almost as if replaying the memory as her eyes remained locked on the beautiful girl in front of the group.
Her tan skin was glowing, and she had a big smile on her face.
Her hair sat in long, perfect curls, and her bespectacled eyes held a sort of maturity that the boys didn’t have.
As if she had knowledge of wisdom yet to be shared.
“She’s close with my mum. I’ve… seen her around. ”
That didn’t sound like the entire story, but it was hers to tell.
Rain pointed to the other girl standing next to her, though at a distance.
She had ginger hair, almost matching August’s, but hers was pin straight, and her eyes were green.
Her lips were pursed into a smile, clearly unhappy about something.
Her arms were crossed over her chest, and the boy beside her looked as if he’d rather die than get near her. “Madelaine Fenlon.”
Ajax leaned forward, his features tightening, lips pursing, but he remained silent.
August muttered, “At least now we know why they got a building named after them.”
Ajax spoke, but the malice in his tone wasn’t targeted at August, but rather towards the situation, “If that were true, every other family would have a building named after them. The Fenlons just don’t know what subtleness is.”
Marigold squirmed in her seat, looking too uncomfortable by his words. Why, I didn’t know.
I couldn’t understand her, and it’s been bothering me more every day.
She was too silent, too all-knowing.
“Where’s the Jett candidate?” Paris asked.
Rain didn’t shy away from the question or speak in riddles. She seemed almost proud of the answer. “My grandfather chose not to nominate a candidate that time around. He chose to wait for the… perfect representative of the House of Jett.”
“What about your father?” Ajax placed his cheek against his fist on the table.
“My grandfather was very particular about who he wanted to succeed him.”
And then, she continued. “That’s Valerius Letum, in the full black suit.”
He was the only one outside of uniform, and he stood right in the middle. Almost as if everyone else in the photo was beckoning towards him.