V
SILAS
The dining hall is alive with activity.
oices hum, cutlery clanks against dishes, chairs scrape against the polished stone floors, and the footsteps of the servers echo in the huge room. It’s big enough to seat hundreds, but there aren’t that many students here, making it easy to have a designated table for your own friend group.
Wrought gold chandeliers hang from the vaulted ceilings, bathing the room in warm light. Despite the huge windows lining the room, barely any light filters through them because of the grey, misty clouds.
The spiced scent of roasted meat and freshly baked bread swirls in the air. Dinner on my first day back is usually one of my favorites. Not today though. I read Eden’s message for the millionth time. The words are practically burned into my brain now, but I can’t stop myself.
Eden:
I won’t be sitting with you at Mass tomorrow. I’m sure one of your many admirers will be happy to keep you company
I’m sitting at my table.
“Lord Peregrine-Ashford, may I offer you something else to eat or drink?” I barely register the voice of the server, swatting him away. He’s probably thinking that I find the food and drink sitting in front of me unsatisfactory, but my mind is in an entirely different dimension at the moment.
Kneading my jaw, I try to make sense of it.
Many admirers?
We’ve only known each other for a few hours, sure. It’s obvious that I’m the most eligible bachelor here, sure. But what does that have to do with her? Just a few hours ago, she looked at me like I was her entire world—like I had handed her the keys to a secret universe just for the two of us.
And I did.
I took her to perfect places. Reading people is my specialty, and her smile when I asked her to sit with me was genuine. So what is this text? I feel my chest tighten a bit. There’s a flicker of something unfamiliar surfacing. I can’t put a name to the emotion, but I recognize it enough to know it’s dangerous.
The chair across me scrapes against the floor, and Max drops into it with his usual careless grace. Alistair and Cedric follow soon after.
Max is the first to speak.
“You’ve gone full monk now?” he quips. “Or are you fasting for spiritual clarity? ”
I glance up, composing myself, a half-hearted smirk on my lips. But it’s not convincing enough for the most discerning among us.
“What’s going on?” Cedric asks.
His sharp eye is one of the things that make him so useful to me. Except when it’s turned in my direction. Max and Alistair look at him, then back to me. They’re used to me being composed, in control.
Obviously I’m not hiding my emotions well enough. Even Alistair—who lives in his head most of the time—starts paying attention.
“Nothing,” I say, leaning back in my chair. I slide my phone into my pocket with calculated ease, as if the message isn’t still searing my brain. “Just thinking.”
“Dangerous pastime for you,” Max mutters.
Alistair chuckles, biting into a piece of focaccia to hide it. I almost laugh, but the sound dies in my throat. I made sure to come to the dining hall early after I got her text.
Since then, I’ve been watching the entrance of the hall.
Eden isn’t here yet. She should be here. Why isn’t she here?
Her absence stings like a wasp on the back of my neck.
Did I misread her? No, that never happens. She doesn’t seem like the type to play games like. But this whole situation is digging into my mind like a splinter—and I need to get it out. Her message makes no sense.
I run a hand through my hair. There’s been a lull in the conversation.
Keep it together, Silas. Don’t let them see it.
Cedric leans forward, resting his hands on the table. “It’s Eden, isn’t it?”
Max perks up. “Silas? Brooding over a girl?” He looks at me, an incredulous smile twisting his features. “I never thought I would see the day.”
I’m annoyed.
“There is nothing to see.”
“So, where is she?” Alistair asks.
I stare him down, but his question is echoed by everyone else at the table.
Shrugging noncommittally, I say, “Am I her keeper?”
“Well yes, that’s what you told us a few hours ago.” Cedric’s face is stone-cold.
Sometimes I do genuinely hate him. “If you must know—” I turn my icy glare on him. “She’s not feeling well.” It’s the best lie I could come up with.
I know they’re not convinced.
But their feelings aren’t my priority right now. I don’t have time to be playing twenty questions with these dimwits when Eden Lockhart might be slipping through my fingers at this very moment.
Once I set my sights on a girl, I must have her. And if I can’t, then nobody ever will. The corners of my mouth twitch.
“As a matter of fact,” I rise from the table. “I’m going to visit her.”
“Suit yourself.” Cedric shrugs and leans back, but I feel his eyes in my back as I walk away. He’s too perceptive for his own good sometimes.
“Back in a bit,” I mutter.
The noise of the crowd fades as the heavy doors swing shut behind me. The air outside the dining hall is cooler, quieter now that the sun has set. For a second, I let myself breathe.
I relax my shoulders, stretch my fingers, straighten my back and raise my eyes to the sky. I’m in control of my own destiny. My Lord guides my path. And I know where I would like this one to lead.
My feet carry me across the cobblestones toward the administrative building. Though my mind is still spinning, there’s still one loose end that I must tie up before I make my next move with Eden. It’s the one thing that could reasonably explain Eden’s behavior. An external influence.
The administrative building is dim and cold.
Empty for the most part, since most of the staff would have taken a break for dinner. The stone walls are lined with framed portraits of past headmasters, patron saints and past archbishops. It smells of paper and varnish, with just the slightest hint of sadness mixed in.
The administrative building is staffed exclusively by Sisters. Women who have chosen celibacy and a life dedicated to their savior. It’s no way to live in my opinion—but it matters little to me.
I walk up to the front desk with silent footsteps. The nun sitting there glances up from her papers, her face stern and unimpressed. I crack a smile. She taught me Calculus & Analytical Geometry in lower sixth form—I passed with straight As.
“Lord Peregrine-Ashford,” she says, her tone bordering on annoyed. “How can I help you?”
I fold my arms, staring her down. Just enough to make her uncomfortable. She starts tapping her finger lightly on the desk as her question hangs between us. Just as she’s about to say something else, I cut her off .
“Tell me who Lady Eden Lockhart’s roommate is.”
The nun frowns. “That information isn’t?—”
“Sister, I’m certain that I didn’t ask a question.” I narrow my eyes at her.
She bristles, her lips tightening into a thin line.
I lean in slightly. Just enough to make her uncomfortable. Just enough for the diamond-studded cross chain I’m wearing to slip from beneath the collar of my shirt and rest on the desk—a subtle reminder that I could buy her life with the money I spent on this chain, and still have change left.
She’s quiet. But she’s close to breaking.
“My time is valuable, Sister. Let’s not waste anymore of it.”
Her nostrils flare, but she stands.
I’ve won.
She walks away without another word, disappearing through an ancient looking door that leads to the teacher’s lounge. As soon as she’s gone, I step behind the desk myself. Their filing system is as outdated as the building is—I find the cabinet labeled “L” and comb through it.
Lockhart, Lockhart…
I find William Lockhart’s file first—Eden’s father.
My future father-in-law.
What I see in his file solidifies my decision to make Eden mine even more. Her father was part of The Order during his time here. I pluck Eden Lockhart’s file from the cabinet next. In it, I find most of what I already knew about her, and a few things I didn’t.
She has a peanut allergy, has an exemption from all sports except swimming. Eden came to Augustine Academy with a stellar academic record from the illustrious Spearcrest. Our children will be beautiful, self-assured and intelligent.
I scan the other pages .
Ah, there it is.
Eden is assigned to Room 31. But it’s the name of her roommate that jumps out at me—ivienne Carlisle. I stare at it for a while, letting the truth settle.
Of course, it’s ivienne.
I snap the file shut and slide it back into the cabinet. Just as I close it, the nun reappears. She opens her mouth, but I step back and smile faintly.
“Thank you for your help,” I say, brushing past her.
The dining hall is emptier than when I first left.
Still, the noise hits me like a wall. I make my way back to the table. Just in time to hear Max telling some story about a summer trip gone wrong. A story I’m certain we’ve all heard before.
I drop into my chair. My plate of food still sits there untouched, probably cold by now. But I’m not hungry for food. I’m hungry for a resolution, and maybe a little revenge.
“Max,” I say.
He blinks at me. “Yeah?”
“Tell your sister’s best friend to keep herself out of my personal affairs.”
Max looks confused. “Marita’s best friend…you mean ivienne?”
“That’s the one.” I give him a slow, deliberate nod.
He glances at Alistair, then at Cedric, who are both watching us with interest.
“What has she done now?” Cedric asks. “The semester’s barely even started. ”
I give him a dismissive glance. “Doesn’t matter. Just relay the message.”
“Okay. Sure. Whatever.” Max hesitates, then shrugs.
Alistair raises an eyebrow. I know that look—he’s processing the whole conversation, and there’s a question on the tip of his tongue. I’m not in the mood for questions.
“I’ll catch you guys later.”
I stand abruptly. Cedric and Max look like they want to stop me. But they don’t—they know better. Now that I’ve delivered my message, I feel lighter. Failure has never and will never be in the cards for me—especially not because of someone like ivienne Carlisle.
She’s a commoner.
Her family only came into money one or two generations ago. But that’s not even what pisses me off the most. She’s everything a Catholic woman shouldn’t be.
Wayward.
Headstrong.
Full of pride.
Sinful.
I can’t have her infecting Eden with that kind of thinking. I’m not worried about salvaging the situation. ivienne will know that my message isn’t a request—it’s a command. And she’ll acquiesce. She has no choice.
The last remnants of daylight have faded, dusk settling on the campus. The sky has turned into a dark canvas streaked with purple and orange, peeking out from behind the cloud cover.
I cross the courtyard. It gets quieter the longer I walk. Soon, only the hum of insects fills the air. Pulling out my phone, I type a message, forming the words carefully and deliberately. She’s ignored all my previous attempts .
I have to make sure she wants to reply to this one.
Silas:
What has upset you, love? Meet me by the cloisters at 22:00.
I reread it once, then hit send. The screen glows for a moment before dimming. I slide my phone back into my pocket. I’ll have my answer soon—whatever it is.
The courtyard stretches out before me, empty and quiet beneath the darkening sky.
But there’s one thing I’m certain of. Lady Eden Lockhart might feel she has a choice in the matter. But she doesn’t. She’ll be mine by any means.
For her own good, she’d better be there tonight.