4. Chapter 4
Chapter 4
M y heart is now seriously racing. It’s taken us a couple of hours, but we’re finally making our way back to the Dining Hall, Raven on my shoulder as Lorcan and I walk the hallway leading from the lower level straight back to the Entrance Hall. Quickly, silently and dressed to blend in.
It’s all gone incredibly smoothly so far, but that doesn’t mean it can’t suddenly go downhill. Judging by the newspaper I found in the laundry room, I’ve taken us back to 1849 and it’s September 1st, which means the event the students were gathering for in the Dining Hall can only be the Opening Ceremony. That would explain the fact that there was no one in the hallways or in the laundry room. All the staff members are in the kitchen, and all the students and the faculty members in the Dining Hall.
But that is where we’re headed right now.
And the plan is simply to walk up to the portal and disappear into it, but what if someone stops us on the way or once we’re already there?
So I take the opportunity to remember every single thing about 1849 that could help me stay out of trouble.
Let’s see.
It was the third year since the establishment of the Academy. The tensions were high because of the Treaty, especially between the faes and the vampires. I can’t remember who the Pied Piper was, but I do know that the most powerful family at the time were the Grimms.
Well, Brothers Grimm as well, but the family I’m referring to right now is the one they originated from. Before their ancestors cut off all ties and slowly lost all magic in their blood, the human Grimms were part of the fae Grimm clan, which was part of the larger Olarel clan.
The fae branch of Grimms — in 1849, they were one of the most powerful royal families in Europe.
What else?
Yes, vocabulary. Be mindful of your vocabulary.
“Wait,” I whisper just as Lorcan moves to step into the Entrance Hall. I pull him back into the cover of the archway.
“Is there something wrong?” he demands impatiently.
I ignore both the frown and the tone. “Raven can play my familiar, they were allowed at the Academy back then, but you… I think it’s best if you stayed here. I’ll attract less attention on my own.”
He lets out a scoff. “You must be joking,” he says with a frown.
My gaze flicks to the Hall behind his back. Right now, it’s empty, but there is loud chatter from the Dining Hall echoing against its walls.
Chatter of students from another time. Which means there is so much that could go wrong, there would be no use in trying to predict it all. “I know,” I say amicably, “but this is not the moment to be reckless.”
“Exactly,” Lorcan grits out, “but only because you seem to have already used up the daily quota.”
I’m unbelievably tired, my very organism seems to be struggling to comprehend what’s going on, and I’m wearing a corset that’s cutting my literal air supply off, so what I really want to do is snap something back at him, but it’s not like I can ignore what kind of situation I’ve put him in.
Placing my palm on his upper arm, I give him a reassuring smile. “I’ll send Raven over if I need help, but if everything goes right, I’ll see you back in the right time.”
He blows out a pent-up breath, but he nods.
“Now, last chance,” I glance down at my skirt, opening up my arms and lifting my eyes back up to him. “Are you sure the bow shouldn’t be at the front?”
He rolls his eyes at me.
Alright then.
I take a deep breath to steady my nerves and move to walk straight across the Hall.
It makes me freeze in place, when I hear the chatter suddenly get cut off and see two students get marched out of the Hall by an Academy Guard.
Ah yes, they had those back then. The security was much less lax than it is in my own time.
It seems it was more needed as well, because the frocked vampire male and the fae princess seem to have been in a fight. The vampire’s frock is torn and there’s a cut showing underneath, while the cold fury with which the fae is looking at him is simply undeniable.
“Maybe you should wait this out,” I hear Lorcan say and I turn to give him a nod.
I don’t think it will be long anyway.
Right now, the Guard seems to be trying to get something across to the frowning fae princess, but all I can focus on is the look of her. She’s not just an ethereally beautiful twenty-something, she’s dressed like an actual princess — in a deep green gown with a metal-studded bodice, a silver tiara adorning the hair falling in lavish locks down her chest.
“What did he do?,” I hear her drawl as if echoing the Guard’s words. She folds her arms. “He stepped on my dress,” she says flatly.
The Guard leans to protest in a much lower voice.
I see her let out a scoff. “Well, he did it intentionally,” she replies flatly, “and it’s my favorite dress.”
The sight becomes even more absurd when another fae princess steps out of the Dining Hall to stand meekly next to her, seemingly joining the Guard in trying to appease her somehow. This one looks like an actual princess as well — softer and shier in a pale violet gown embroidered with white thread, the braid with pearls crowning her head giving the impression of a flower wreath.
But they’re both tall, thin, blonde, with such similar facial features, I think with a growing frown. They could easily be twins.
And well, given what I know of the kind of populace that attended the Academy when it was first established, if it looks like a princess, it is a princess.
It’s at that exact moment that the more brusque of the princesses says, “Fine,” and the group goes back inside and the chatter resumes.
I don’t waste time. I throw Lorcan another nod and I start walking.
This time, I make it all the way to the archway into the Dining Hall and come to a stop, taking the time to look inside and evaluate the situation as my eyes sweep over the sea of students below the crowded professors’ podium. There’s barely an empty seat.
My mind is refusing to interpret it all as anything other than some kind of costumed event, but…
The Opening Ceremony seems to be in full swing, the students dressed like lords and ladies eating, chatting and hanging in groups along the tables. There’s the faint scent of vinegar wafting to me from the freshly scrubbed floor, the light music is a classical-sounding violin melody, and the way the people are talking and holding themselves…
“Goodness, doesn’t that bother you?”
“Not a whit.”
Gods, this is unmistakably not the time I came from.
Shrug it off, I tell myself. This corset is a pain in the ass and I’m so disoriented, it’s bordering on nausea, but I’m almost there.
Just as I’m about to step inside, a sound coming from the opposite direction of the Entrance Hall makes my head whip back. I watch it appear on the empty wall where in modern times the Elevator would materialize — the Door that the Architect switched out for a more modern contraption. It’s not a literal door, more like a stone archway, but that’s how I read people refer to it.
The next second, this strikingly handsome man walks out — mid-thirties, tall, broad of shoulder. He’s holding a book carelessly at his side, seemingly lost in thought but walking as if he owns the place.
Fuck, a professor.
Is this weird, that I’m just standing out here? But before I can make up my mind or register anything else about him, the Runes around his neck glow and he disappears as if sucked forward.
I sense him whizz past me and breathe a sigh of relief.
But before I can turn back to the Dining Hall, he backtracks and comes to a stop not too far away from me, a pair of narrowing eyes pinning me in place.
My heart starts pounding. I get the feeling he’s about to ask some potentially troublesome question, but something about his eyes throws me off.
They’re bright amber, bordering on yellow, just like a cat’s, with dark lashes only accentuating the striking color. And their depth coupled with the shrewd way in which they’re narrowing at me is making me wonder if I’d be able to form words in the first place.
“There you are,” I hear Lorcan come to my aid just before he appears next to me.
The man’s gaze flicks between the two of us, making Lorcan shift on his feet.
“It’s nice weather we’re having,” Lorcan says in a voice that’s telling him he’s intruding.
The man frowns, throws me a lingering glance and disappears into the Dining Hall, not even acknowledging that Lorcan’s said anything.
I let out a pent-up breath and turn to Lorcan, finding him staring at me with concern in his eyes. “That was close,” I tell him as my heart pounds in my chest.
“Are you alright?” he asks.
“I’m fine,” I reply, “it’s just the stress becoming real. You go back, I’ll manage.”
*
I find myself busy fighting off what I believe might be the onset of a panic attack. Or is it just the effects of time travel? Either way, my breathing seems to be getting shallower, my head lighter and my vision narrower.
Still, I take another look at the state in the Dining Hall. It makes me frown, when at second glance I realize a lot of the students are in their late twenties and early thirties.
Then I remember what I read about the first decade or so after the Academy was established. Back then, it wasn’t just twenty-one-year-olds who were required to start attending. It was everyone between twenty one and thirty.
And they weren’t just older on average. Before they ever stepped foot at the Academy, a lot of them had even experienced war.
I take a deep breath. Careful, I tell myself as I get a move on. Slowly, I walk through the archway and start the journey to the spot that’s still emanating that energy.
It makes me stop midstep, when I blink only to find nothing before me but this deeply unsettling darkness.
What the…
I blink again, but when my vision returns, it’s off to say the least. There are no sharp lines anywhere around me, just a blur of energies of different colors and intensities. The warm ones seem to represent living beings, at least judging by rows upon rows of them seated at the tables.
I force myself to keep walking so as not to raise suspicion, but looking out at the world like this proves to be overwhelmingly disorienting. I can’t seem to figure out how far things are, how fast they’re moving, how much space I myself am taking up.
Still, I keep walking, slowly, and soon realize there is at least one advantage to this. Spotting this strange shimmer in the air somewhere at the center of the table I’m walking along — the middle one — I realize it’s the portal I’m looking at.
I can see it, not just feel it.
“Almost there,” I whisper as I throw a glance at Raven.
Somehow, the very sight of her makes my vision go back to normal and it stops being a struggle just to keep walking, but that brings zero relief.
Simply because I now realize I’ve just — for the very first time in my life — used Sight.
And sure, considering my purpose is to activate all three bloodline powers, stirring the fae side of me from sleep should be great news. But powers are a fickle thing in general, let alone when you’ve only just awoken them, and double so when you’ve done it with the help of time travel, as is probably the case here.
So… terrific timing.
Especially when I get even closer to the portal and my eyes sweep over that part of the table. While the rest of it is crowded, this particular area is occupied only by the man who was on the verge of interrogating me out there in the Entrance Hall.
I keep approaching, but I slow to a snail’s pace. It’s because I’m becoming acutely aware of the fact that he’s the only one with multiple empty chairs on each side of the one he’s sitting in, as if everyone is avoiding him.
My mind reels in an attempt to assess the situation as quickly as possible. Is he annoying, or is dangerous?
For starters, people don’t generally shun those of his level of attractiveness, not even when they’re annoying. As for posing some kind of danger to others, at first glance, he looks quite harmless sitting there immersed in his book.
Then again, he arrived much later than everyone else, had this air of authority when he stopped to look at me, and is the only one with his feet on the table before him, suggesting he cares little about what others think of him. That impression only grows stronger when I take note of his appearance.
While the other men all seem to be pale, groomed and cleanly shaven, the one sitting alone is tanned, has a light stubble and keeps his hair falling to his chin in dark, unruly waves. There’s a stark contrast in the clothes as well. The others are all clad in immaculate pants, shirts and waistcoats, while this one is dressed in brown leather pants and one of those shirts with a V-neck and wide sleeves gathering in ruffle cuffs around his wrists, ivory but clearly covered in some kind of dust.
All my observations narrow down into a single, useless thought — unpredictable.
Then again, who cares if he’s dangerous? I only need to step into the portal and I’ll disappear.
I think for a moment longer, then move to do exactly that.
It’s in a slightly shrill voice that Raven protests, “It can't be for no reason that no one is sitting next to that man, Anna.”
“I’ll be fine,” I try to reassure her.
But the moment I reach the empty chair next to the man, two realizations make fear flood my body.
One, I should’ve already stepped into the portal, and I haven’t.
Two, the chatter in the Hall has died down, and now there are countless eyes on me.
Quick, Anna, think.
The man everyone seems to be avoiding doesn’t even look up, so I grit my teeth and take a seat, putting my hands under the table and starting to do the hand gestures in case that’s what’s wrong.
Nothing happens.
Dread floods my body when I realize there must be something wrong with my Aurora powers, because the portal is still open.
It’s at that exact moment that something starts slithering up my ankles. I look down, but before I can react, these strange ropes — thin rivers of living sand — wrap around them and lock them tightly to the legs of the chair.
A single ‘fuck’ is the only thing that goes through my head before I force myself to look to my right, at the man pinning me in place with a piercing, side-long glance, his feet still on the table and the book still in his hands.
It’s in a low voice that he demands, “And what do you think you’re doing?”
*
The voice is deep and smooth yet roughly textured, the tone lazy in that same posh way I’ve heard people speak here, but threatening all the same.
It doesn’t scare me, but it does make me swallow roughly, cursing myself when I see the frowning amber eyes drop to my throat, catching the movement.
The ropes tighten, as if warning me to answer the question. Gods, there’s such an air of entitlement around this man, but I can’t ignore the danger I’ve put myself in. “Would you be so kind as to let go?” I ask.
He doesn’t move a muscle. Countless other eyes still watching our every movement, he just keeps looking at me, though for the life of me, I can’t tell if he even recognizes me. “You sat next to me,” he finally says.
I’ve no idea if he’s asking me, stating a mere fact or telling me the ropes are the consequence of my action. “I did.”
Without taking his eyes off me and with a lazy tip of his head, he motions at the people around us. I spot a sea of heads snapping back, as if afraid to be caught staring. However hesitantly, the chatter resumes.
“ They all know not to do that,” the man says. “Why don’t you ?”
Just make this interaction as short as possible and you’ll be fine, I tell myself. “I’m new, I don’t know anyone here,” I say.
The way his eyes narrow at me tells me he does remember me after all.
“Except for my father,” I rush to add.
This seems to please him. “And this is where you choose to sit?”
It’s obvious to me by now, that sitting alone is this man’s choice, which means there’s a chance I only have to make it clear I wouldn’t be disturbing him. “The seat was empty,” I say with a smile, “but more importantly, I was under the impression that, if I chose it, I’d get some peace and quiet.” I give him a slight smile as I motion at his book. “Surely I’m not wrong.”
For a moment, he just keeps looking at me. Then I feel the ropes loosen and slither back from where they came. I breathe a sigh of relief, only to tense up all over again when I see him close his book shut and put his feet down, turning to face me.
“Your name,” he demands.
Goddamn it. “Please,” I start amicably. “It really wasn’t my intention to break your concentration.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “You’re not in my letters. Which one are you?”
I frown. “Your letters ?”
His voice takes on a mockingly saccharine tone. “The ones I receive from all the ladies dreaming of marriage.”
Then he tilts his head at me. “Though to be fair, the rest of them are over there, and you’re over here.”
It’s only then that I spot the group of girls hanging around the table across from us, neither one of them looking in his direction, but all evidently trying to get his attention.
“Are you Duke Torleth’s daughter?” he asks. “Twyla or what was her name again?”
I choose to ignore most of that and try to cut the entire conversation short. “Believe me when I say, there’s no marriage in my dreams.”
“Pity,” he replies mockingly. “But forgive me if I choose not to believe you. It’s simply because the circumstances are what they are.”
For a moment, I just blink at him, the word ‘pity’ ringing in my head. Then I clear my throat. “The circumstances?”
He leans back in his chair, dragging his eyes down my body. “You’re dressed as a servant but much too eloquent for one,” he starts listing, “you’re a fae walking around without her Runes, but you have a familiar and confidence enough to put yourself in danger like this…” He pauses to throw me a knowing little smirk. “And you’re someone who claims she knows no one in this room but, despite the giant warning, somehow found herself sitting next to the prince.”
A prince? Ah, that’s what all that entitlement is. But this also means I’m in even more danger than I thought I was. “I don’t know who you are,” I lean to tell him, “I just want to enjoy the ceremony in peace.”
I turn away from him, hoping he’ll drop it.
Maybe I should just leave, the portal be damned. It seems I won’t be able to use it right now anyway. But if I get more monkshood plant to amplify my Aurora powers…
I sense the man lean a little closer and I grit my teeth.
“Alright,” he says, a touch of impatience in his voice, “since you’re insisting… I’m Orpheus Grimm of House Olarel. And you are?”
Grimm? Fuck.
I crane my neck to see him looking at me, waiting.
I watch a muscle in his jaw jump. “ Your name , my lady.”
“I’m not a lady. I’m just…” I hesitate for a second, then blurt out, “Anyi.” One of Jericho’s favorite pet names for me.
He frowns. A moment goes by before he relaxes, curiosity in his eyes as he asks, “Just Anyi?” He drops his voice a little. “And what are you doing here, Anyi?”
After a moment of hesitation, I decide the safest thing would be to tell the truth. “I’m the Librarian,” I reply simply.
He blows a laugh through his nose. Then he leans a little closer and clicks his tongue, the look in his amber eyes scolding as he tells me, “I know every single Librarian in this place and they’re all up there, sitting at the professors’ table.”
The intensity of his gaze makes me squirm a little. “As I said, I’m new here,” I insist. “No one informed me I should be sitting up there .”
A devious smile crosses his lips. He takes the book he was reading and places it in front of me. “Well, if you’re a Librarian,” he starts in a saccharine voice, “I’m sure you wouldn’t mind telling me where you’d return this.”
I look down at the leather-bound book, Dimensions and Divine Magic printed on the cover in gold block letters. Now, if I was in my own time, this would be a piece of cake, but right now, I first need to try to remember which books had already been published in 1849. Then I look up at him again. “I’d put it between the Divine Magic in the Eastern Hemisphere and the New Theory of Dimensions. ”
He looks victorious as he says, “The former makes for a good guess, I have to say, but it’s the latter that betrays you.” He leans a little closer, whispering, “You’re making it up.”
Damn it, it must have been 1850. Forcing myself not to betray my nervousness, I reply, “It’s supposed to be published next year, I’ve had the privilege of speaking with the author. You can expect to be surprised to hear how the old theory of dimensions got disproved.”
He leans back again, surprise flashing through his eyes. “And you’re trying to tell me you’re ‘just Anyi’?” he demands in a dead-serious voice. “As if someone lowborn could be this educated.”
I raise my eyebrows at him. “And who’s to blame for that , Orpheus Grimm of House Olarel?”
His eyes narrow. “What are you implying?” he snaps.
I smile. “I’m afraid I’m too lowborn for that to be of any interest to you.”
A muscle in his jaw jumps. It’s in an infuriatingly condescending tone that he says, “You do understand it’s just the way of things, that some are born into aristocracy and some are not.”
I laugh. “And do you understand,” I echo a little mockingly, “that there’s nothing in this world that can only be done in one way. So the way of things is something someone needs to decide, and what a coincidence…” I lean back in my chair, dragging my eyes down his body and fixing my eyes on all the regal-looking signet rings on his fingers. “The one deciding is always the one benefitting.”
And I throw him a fake smile.
His eyes dart to my lips. He frowns. “Please don’t tell me you’re some kind of romantic,” he snaps. “Take a long enough step back from anything and you’ll see it’s utterly insignificant, especially in the grand scheme of things. Kings or peasants, people are and always will be nothing more than specks of dirt.”
I hate what he’s saying, but it’s so effortlessly, the way he talks. I shrug my shoulders. “Whatever you need to tell yourself… Your Grace.”
Stop antagonizing him, I tell myself when I see his jaw clench.
Then he smooths out his features, his lips curling into a smirk, which I have a feeling is even worse. He leans to say in a low, smug voice, “I’ll just have you know you haven’t distracted me from the odd fact of your presence here.”
His breath tickles my skin and my heart starts pounding.
“I won’t be restraining you again,” he continues. “But I will be making you spend the rest of the Opening Ceremony stewing in uncertainty as to what I will decide to do with you.”
He pulls away and smirks at me again. “I’m very fast. If you try to run, I assure you, you won’t get anywhere.”
I watch him turn away, put his feet up and return to his book.
It takes me a second to tear my eyes away from his profile, my heart still pounding.
Great. Now what?
Out of sheer desperation, I try the hand gestures again. Nothing happens.
And now that the royal grump sitting next to me is immersed in his reading again, the people are going back to throwing glances at me.
“Won’t they quit staring already?” I ask Raven.
“I think they’re trying to determine whether you’re competition,” she says matter-of-factly.
I almost let out a scoff. “In a fight for a man they’re all scared to even approach?”
She doesn’t say anything.
“Raven,” I start, “will you go find Lorcan, please? Tell him I’ve found myself in a bit of trouble.”
I sense her push herself off my shoulder and see her fly out of the Dining Hall.
I really hope it doesn’t take him long.
To ease my nerves, I turn my gaze onto the professors’ table. My eyes start sweeping over all the unfamiliar faces, until they stop, and linger, on one extremely familiar one.
My breath catches.
Of course, she was alive and at the Academy even back in 1849.
Johanna de Groot, the woman I know as the Pied Piper. Mesmerized, I keep watching her leaned to her right, immersed in conversation with an extremely muscular shifter colleague.
Just as I spot them stop talking, the chatter in general dies down and I watch an older, exquisitely beautiful blonde woman rise from the Pied Piper’s chair. It’s downright regal, the way she does it.
“Now, after we’ve all had our fill,” she starts, her voice echoing against the walls, “I’d like to raise a toast to our third year here at Grimm Academy.”
People start clapping and cheering. With the corner of my eye, I see that the royal grump sitting next to me hasn’t even lifted his gaze from his book. I myself join in on the clapping, but only so as not to stand out even more. I can’t really say why, but I already strongly dislike this Pied Piper.
She raises her hand, promptly shushing everyone. “Now, we’ve had our successes. We’ve kept the peace,” she starts listing, “we won the Games against the Fiain Academy last year, and this year, we’ll even have our first graduates.”
More clapping.
“However,” she coldly cuts it off, “there is much more to be done to serve our purpose. We need to excel, more than ever before, so the example we set is a truly inspiring one. Now, with those words, I wish you all the luck in the following year.”
There’s a bout of violent clapping just as Raven returns to announce, “I can’t find him anywhere.”
Goddamn it. And now I have the prince to worry about as well.
While everyone else starts getting up, loudly and a little drunkenly starting to make their way out of the Dining Hall, I do the stupidest thing ever, simply because it’s the only one I come up with.
I pretend to drop something under the table and proceed to start looking for it, hoping that the prince has given up on me.
It makes me stop my search, when I feel eyes on my back. Fighting not to let out a groan, I slowly turn around only to find him staring at me with his arms folded and an eyebrow quirked.
“I lost something,” I say simply. And I move to get back to my fake search.
“Ah, of course,” he drawls mockingly, making me stop and turn to look at him again. “And now you need to wait until everyone’s left to find it.”
And while there are quite a lot of people throwing glances in our direction, something nudges me to look to my left, where in the distance I spot the Pied Piper herself staring at me.
Could this get any worse, I bitch to myself as I turn back to the prince. “Actually, what I need is to be left alone,” I tell him. “I’d think that you’d understand.”
To my surprise, he leans to whisper in my ear, “A piece of advice, if I may. It’s only been three years. There are still plenty of people who’d do unspeakable things only to see this entire experiment fail. And a lady as suspicious as yourself?” He retreats to look me in the eye. “She’s a potential scapegoat offering herself on a silver platter. Now, if you’d tell me what it is that you’re doing here—”
“Thank you,” I cut him off, forcing myself to smile, “I will certainly take the advice into consideration. I bid you good night, Your Grace,” I say, motioning at the table, “and don’t forget your book.” And I just keep standing there, waiting for him to leave.
He doesn’t. He takes a step closer and I take a step back, my heart pounding. Dangerous, this has become way too dangerous.
“Excuse me,” I say as I catch him by surprise by darting into the crowd and starting to move straight in the direction of the Entrance Hall, where I last saw Lorcan.
I fail to stop myself from throwing a glance over my shoulder, only to spot the Pied Piper staring at me from a distance.
Then, before I can get anywhere close to the Entrance Hall, three men come to block my way, forming a tight circle around me.
Cold dread floods me even before I spot the badges pinned to their uniforms.
Academy Guard.