Chapter Twenty-Seven
“That’s… not what I expected. Like. At all.” The words slipped out of Anabelle before she could stop them.
They had just driven through a portal, one that had apparently shaved hours off their journey.
Efficient, sure. Useful, absolutely. Still deeply unsettling.
When they’d said drive through a portal, she hadn’t exactly pictured what looked suspiciously like a round stone archway straight out of a storybook, something that resembled the front door of a hobbit’s home more than a gateway between worlds.
And yet, here she was.
On the other side, she found herself staring up at a massive building made of weathered Victorian stone. It wasn’t as breathtaking or regal as Kat’s estate, but it was still undeniably grand. Elegant. Old. The kind of place that felt like it had history pressed into its walls.
People walked everywhere, students, she assumed moving with purpose, chatting in small groups, some laughing, some already buried in conversation. The campus looked like it had been built centuries ago, expanded and repurposed over time rather than designed all at once.
Gods. Back to school.
She swallowed. Never, not in a million years, had she imagined she’d be doing this again.
Not after everything. Not like this. Kat had called it a crash course.
An express program meant to prepare her for the supernatural world.
But even she had admitted it wouldn’t teach everything.
That a lot would be left for Anabelle to figure out on her own.
As if she didn’t already feel wildly unprepared.
Could this be any more daunting?
She must have stayed frozen in the car longer than she realized, staring out at the unfamiliar world beyond the windshield, because she barely noticed the others moving until Cameron was suddenly there, opening her door. He held out his hand. She blinked, momentarily dazed.
How chivalrous. She thought sarcastically. The urge to snort and laugh rose fast, but she bit it back. That would probably be rude. Or at the very least, awkward.
So she accepted his hand and let him guide her out of the car, feet touching the stone-paved ground.
Right. Now what?
She turned, about to ask one of them where she was supposed to go, when someone cleared their throat nearby and Anabelle turned.
Two girls stood a short distance away, watching her with open curiosity.
They were wearing nearly identical clothes, same cut, same colors and even their hairstyles matched.
If it weren’t for the fact that one had dark brown hair and the other a softer, dark blonde, she might have thought they were the same person.
That’s… odd, she thought.
The dark-haired one smiled brightly. “Hi! You must be new here. I’m Polly, and this is my sister Agatha. We’re just starting this term too.” She gestured between them, then tilted her head. “We were wondering if you have chosen your roommates yet?”
“Oh...hi,” Anabelle replied, caught off guard but relieved by the normalcy of the interaction. “No, I didn’t even know we could choose roommates.” She hesitated, then asked, “Do you know where I get my schedule and… all of that?”
“Yes!” Polly said immediately. “Just follow the path down to the main building, it’s the big one straight ahead. The secretaries’ office is on the ground floor, room 13.”
Anabelle smiled, tension easing just a fraction. “Thank you.”
As the twins nodded, they looked behind her, then gave her a brief smile before turning back toward the path.
Anabelle let out a slow breath. Okay, she thought. One step at a time.
When she turned around, the others were just standing there. All four of them. Immovable. Massive. Arms crossed. Expressions carved into something that screamed touch her and die painfully. They looked less like escorts and more like the final bosses of an action game.
Jesus, she thought. Is this why Polly practically sprinted away?
They were so dramatic it was almost impressive. Almost. It teetered right on the edge of ridiculous. She sighed internally, then without saying a word, she turned and walked on.
She immediately felt them flanking her with military precision, one slightly behind, two at her sides, one watching everything ahead. It was subtle enough that no one could accuse them of crowding her… but obvious enough that anyone with eyes would think twice before approaching.
She clenched her jaw. Please don’t let this be what the next four weeks look like.
By the time she reached the office marked thirteen, her nerves were buzzing. She lifted her hand and knocked.
A muffled, “Come in,” drifted through the door.
She stepped inside.
The woman behind the desk looked… kind. Middle-aged, glasses perched low on her nose, hair twisted into a messy bun that looked like it had been secured in a rush and forgotten about since.
She had an air of calm efficiency, the sort that came from years of dealing with students in varying stages of panic.
“Name?” the woman asked drily, without looking up.
Anabelle cleared her throat. “Anabelle Wyatt.”
The reaction was instant. The woman straightened sharply, eyes snapping up from her desk. Anabelle blinked, brows furrowing.
“Oh! Anabelle... welcome, welcome.” Her tone shifted entirely, warm and attentive. “The High Queen told us you would be arriving today. I hope you found the place alright?”
“Uh… yes, thank you,” Anabelle replied, confusion creeping into her voice.
Behind her, she could hear barely suppressed chuckles. She ignored them. Absolutely not engaging.
“Right,” the woman continued briskly. “My name is Adeline Graft. I have everything prepared for you.”
She reached under the desk and slid a neat stack of papers forward.
“This is your welcome package,” Ms. Graft said, handing her the first sheet. “Map of the grounds and buildings.”
Then she handed her a card. “This is your access card. Your lodgings and classrooms will require it for entry. Please do not lose it.”
Another paper followed immediately. “And this is your schedule.”
Anabelle accepted everything, arms slowly filling.
“It’s quite simple really,” Ms. Graft went on, rapid-fire.
“Each week focuses on different topics. Three classes per day. At the end of each week, you’ll sit one exam that will cover that week’s material.
The fourth week is your final evaluation, an oral presentation and a practical showcase of your abilities before both the High Council and the Caster Board. ”
Anabelle stared.
“If all is successful,” Ms. Graft finished, “you’ll be issued your registered status at graduation.” A beat. “If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to contact me. My details are on the back of your schedule.”
Anabelle blinked. Once. Twice. Wow. She had not expected… any of that. The woman spoke like she was being timed.
“Uh,” Anabelle finally managed, “where’s housing? And do you know where I’ll be staying? Someone mentioned choosing roommates?”
Ms. Graft gasped softly. “Gods above, I almost forgot.”
She handed over another map. “As per the stipulations in your enrollment, you’ve been assigned the suite at the top of the housing lodges. Just keep going up until you can’t go up anymore.”
Anabelle’s eyes widened slightly.
“The cafeteria serves food at all hours,” Ms. Graft continued. “If you miss lunch, you may come in between classes...though I urge you not to be late. It doesn’t reflect well during final evaluations.”
Right. No pressure.
“Oh, and,” Ms. Graft added, glancing past Anabelle’s shoulder, “I was informed you have four individuals accompanying you. I’ll need to verify their identities.”
The office suddenly felt much smaller. Cameron, Joshua, Dominik, and Rian stepped inside, filling the space entirely. They loomed. Literally loomed.
Wow, Anabelle thought. They really are huge.
Dominik spoke smoothly. “Protection detail. Authorization code T5448A.”
Ms. Graft smiled. “Ah, perfect. I’m glad you had the correct code...big problem if you didn’t.”
She passed out access cards to each of them with practiced efficiency.
“Alright then,” she said brightly. “Have a lovely day settling in. First classes begin tomorrow at eight a.m. Please do not be late.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Cameron said politely.
“Thank you,” Anabelle echoed, still a little dazed.
She walked out of the office feeling like she’d just been swept up in a storm.
What the hell was that?
Okay. Calm down. Ms. Graft was just… very efficient. Very fast. Possibly powered by caffeine alone.
Behind her, footsteps followed.
Rian spoke first. “Would you like to go to the suite now to drop off your things, or look around?”
“Suite,” Anabelle said immediately. “That was… too much excitement for one afternoon.”
Cameron snorted. “She did seem like she was in a rush, didn’t she?”
Anabelle laughed despite herself. “God, yes. I thought for a second there I accidentally put her on fast-forward or something.”
They watched her as she laughed, really watched her.
She shook her head, smiling faintly. “Alright. Come on. Lead the way.”
???
The moment the door swung open, Anabelle stopped short.
The suite stretched out in front of her: wide, airy, huge. A proper living room dominated the space, large enough to host a gathering without ever feeling crowded. Plush seating anchored the center, arranged around a low table, while a thick rug softened the polished floors beneath her feet.
To the left sat a sleek kitchenette, compact but fully equipped, its counters clean and modern, cupboards tucked neatly above and below.
Beyond it, floor-to-ceiling windows lined the entire left wall, sunlight pouring in and illuminating everything in warm gold.
Outside, she could see treetops swaying gently, the grounds sprawling and green.
At the far end of the living room, along the back wall, five doors stood evenly spaced, one centred straight ahead, two on either side of it.
Anabelle turned slowly in a circle, taking it all in.
“Wow,” she breathed. “It’s huge...This...This can’t be right.”