Nanette's Tale

Chapter 3

“Lady Nadine of Hightower,” Lady Damia said. She was a middle-aged woman who would have been pretty, if she hadn’t had a permanent scowl on her face. Her hair was tied into a long braid that seemed to move of its own accord. “Welcome to Laughter.”

“That’s Princess Nadine,” Nanette hissed. She knew it was unwise to bait one of the most powerful women in the world, but she had to stay in character. “I am…”

“The natural-born daughter of a baron,” Lady Damia said, in a tone that suggested she only barely managed to keep herself from saying bastard. “You are no princess. And in this place” — her eyes bored into Nanette’s — “outside titles have little meaning. You are a student; nothing more, nothing less.”

“My father…”

“Your father may call you a princess, if he wishes,” Lady Damia said. “But here you are a student. Your title means nothing.”

Nanette tried to look offended. She was fairly sure that wasn’t true. Magicians might be the social equals of everyone, at least in theory, but she’d spent six years at Mountaintop. She knew there was more deference to aristocratic titles than any of the senior magicians cared to admit. A student from an aristocratic background would be flattered by staff and students alike. And Penny talked like an aristocrat… an aristocrat who was trying too hard. She smirked, inwardly. Lady Damia was either mistaken or simply lying.

“You are old enough to enter fifth year,” Lady Damia continued. “However, as a newcomer to the school, and one who was not taught by one of our former students, you will be required to wear the grey blazer and take remedial classes until we deem you fit to advance to the final year. Should you fail to qualify by the end of the year, you’ll retake fifth year and…”

“I’m a powerful magician,” Nanette insisted. “I can…”

Lady Damia raised a hand. Nanette found herself frozen, unable to move or speak. She could have broken free, but Nadine would have been helplessly trapped. Behind her, she heard a snicker. Penny wasn’t quite as rigid as she acted. Lady Damia shot Penny a sharp look, then turned her attention back to Nanette. Her eyes were very cold.

“You have a lot to learn,” Lady Damia said, coldly. “The spell holding you in place is very simple. Practically any of our students can cast it — and break it, even when it holds them frozen. Your mentor” — she gestured towards Penny — “will teach you the basics, if you behave yourself. If not, I’m sorry to say you will have a very unpleasant time here.”

She studied Nanette for a long moment. “Your mentor, who is also your roommate, will give you your timetable. You will have the same chance to learn as we offer to other students, but what you make of it is up to you. Attend your classes, listen to your teachers, practice your spells… do well. Or waste this opportunity, as you wish. Do you understand me?”

Nanette felt the spell break. “Yes.”

“Good.” Lady Damia nodded to Penny. “Take her to the bedroom and help her to settle in.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Penny said.

“And one other thing?” Lady Damia spoke calmly, but coldly. “Bratty conduct will not be tolerated here. Your father paid us to educate you. He did not pay us to put up with misconduct.”

Nanette forced herself to swallow as Penny caught her arm and pulled her out of the tiny office. She was surprised Lady Damia had been so blunt, even though she didn’t really blame the older woman. Anyone who read the reports would know Nadine would be hard to handle. She wasn’t the sort of person who would listen to gentle hints. Nanette snickered at the thought. Nadine — the real Nadine — would probably get herself kicked out of school within the week.

“I don’t know what you think is funny,” Penny said, as they passed through a door and walked down a flight of stairs. “You’re in hot water.”

“If you say so,” Nanette said, mockingly. “Are you the real Head Girl or are you just pretending?”

Penny stiffened. “I was elected Young Head Girl last year,” she said. “I’ll be Older Head Girl next year.”

“Of course you’ll be older,” Nanette said, as gormlessly as she could. “It’s obvious.”

“Be quiet,” Penny snapped, sharply. She stopped in front of a wooden door. It opened at her touch. “Our home away from home.”

Nanette looked around with interest as Penny led her into the chamber. It was smaller than she’d expected, with two beds, two small bedside cabinets, two simple wooden desks, a single large bookshelf and a door she assumed led to the washroom. The walls were plain stone. She could sense magic flickering through them, magic that might — might — be keeping an eye on the occupants. The trunk sat beside the bed, waiting for her. She made a mental note to test the charms before she opened it for the first time. She’d gone to some trouble to make sure she’d know if someone had tried to open and search Nadine’s trunk.

And they might raise eyebrows when they see the book, she mused. Cloak had been insistent she steal the school’s copy, rather than simply copying the notes. She didn’t understand why, but she was in no place to argue. And what will they think of some of the other things Nadine wanted to bring?

Penny pointed to a bed. “That’s where you’ll sleep,” she said, darkly. “I’m sure it isn’t what you’re used to, but it’s what you’ve got.”

“I need a bigger bed,” Nanette said. She’d actually slept in worse places, but she couldn’t say so. The room reminded her of Whitehall. “And I need it warmer in here…”

“Learn to warm the room yourself,” Penny said, dismissively. “A firstie could cast the spells.”

She went on and on, outlining everything from basic school rules to guidelines that made little sense. Nanette listened with half an ear as she reached out mentally and felt the wards, trying to determine if they were actually spying on the occupants. She’d grown used to a complete lack of privacy at Mountaintop, and she was practiced enough to act normally even when she knew she was being watched, but it was important to know what was really happening. If she had some privacy…

“Are you even listening to me?” Two spots of colour appeared on Penny’s cheeks. “This is important.”

Nanette said nothing for a long moment, carefully planning her next move. Penny could be manipulated, but… it had to be done carefully. Manipulation was never easy, particularly when it had to last. Thankfully, Penny was a type she knew. She understood Penny. It would be a great deal harder to manipulate someone who was satisfied with their lot. Or someone like Emily. Nanette had watched Emily closely, at both Whitehall and Mountaintop, but she didn’t understand the girl. She just didn’t make sense.

“Nadine!” Penny’s voice rose. “Are you even listening to me?”

Nanette gave her a languid smile. “That’s Princess Nadine to you, commoner.”

Penny’s face flushed. She reached down in one smooth motion and removed her wooden clog, brandishing it like the weapon it was. “Bend over the bed and raise your dress,” she ordered. “Now!”

That was quick, Nanette thought. She smirked. She’d goaded others into overstepping themselves, but it normally took more effort. I must really be getting to her.

She shaped a spell in her mind, then cast it. The clog became a giant spider. Penny yelped, dropping the animal and jumping back. Nanette cancelled the spell, trying desperately to look as if she’d made a mistake. Penny would see she’d made a mistake. But would she draw the correct conclusion?

Penny swallowed, hard. “You’re… you’re better at magic than they say.”

“Yes.” Nanette tried to look as if she’d really made a mistake. “Don’t tell anyone. Please.”

She concealed her amusement as a calculating look washed across Penny’s face. The Young Head Girl — the system made a certain kind of sense, Nanette supposed — wouldn’t want to admit she couldn’t handle her roommate. She certainly hadn’t threatened to call her friends to hold Nanette down while she beat her, if only because admitting she needed help was tantamount to admitting she couldn’t handle the job. Nanette would have called her bluff and she would have been weakened still further, but she would have resented it. Instead… if she thought she knew a secret, if she thought she knew something Nanette was trying to conceal, she would use it to regain control. And she wouldn’t realise until later — much later — that the secret was effectively worthless.

“You show me proper respect in public and I’ll keep your secret to myself,” Penny said, carefully. “Agreed?”

Nanette dropped a perfect curtsy. “Agreed.”

She waited, wondering if Penny would push further. The girl had to be on very thin ice. If she really was a low-ranking aristocrat, she wouldn’t have much room for mistakes. She couldn’t afford to give the staff a reason to remove her, not when there had to be dozens of other possible candidates for the job. Or to lose face in front of the rest of the girls. Nanette had been to boarding school too. A student who lost face lost everything.

“In public,” Penny said. “You don’t have to overdo it.”

“Just keep your mouth shut,” Nanette said. “And I’ll show you all the respect you want.”

Penny nodded. “And you can help me with something else,” she said. “I need etiquette and dance lessons.”

Which you could get easily, if you were prepared to admit you needed them, Nanette thought, wryly. She felt a flicker of rueful admiration. Penny thought she had blackmail material and was moving, ruthlessly, to capitalise on it. And you think I can teach you without demanding anything in return.

“In private,” Nanette said. “Please.”

“Of course,” Penny said. She gestured to the drawer under the bed. “If you’ll have a look inside…”

Nanette opened the drawer. “Clothes,” she said, disdainfully. “They don’t suit me.”

Penny shot her a look. “Get them out,” she ordered. “And put them on the bed.”

Nanette obeyed. The outfits were black. Black dresses, black shirts, black socks, black underwear… the only thing that wasn’t black were the blazers, which were grey. She frowned as she picked through them, noting the resizing charms that had been cunningly woven into the material. The uniform reminded her a little of Mountaintop’s, but… it wasn’t quite the same.

“As a new student, you have to wear a grey blazer,” Penny said. “Everything else… it’s what you’ll wear, outside sports classes. You have the right to wear other clothes outside classroom hours, but you can lose them if you misbehave.”

“So we walk around in the nude?” Nanette raised her eyebrows. “It doesn’t seem a very good idea to me.”

“If only you were the first person to make that joke.” Penny sighed heavily. “No, if you’ll wear school uniform outside classroom hours and everyone will point and laugh and know you’re being punished. Believe me, a few hours of wearing the uniform will make you think it was designed by a sadist who wanted to punish us.”

“I saw a man get hanged, once,” Nanette said, evenly. “I saw another being stretched on the rack. And a girl being whipped bloody for adultery.”

Penny gave her a discomforted look. “Your father let you watch?”

“My father is not a very nice man,” Nanette said. In truth, she had no idea if Nadine’s father had let her watch anything. Commoners were often ordered to watch executions, just to remind them what awaited them if they dared to disobey their betters, but noblewomen were often sheltered from the harsh realities of life. “And my mother could never gainsay him.”

“Oh.” Penny shifted, uncomfortably. “I’m sorry to hear that, really.”

Not as sorry as you’re going to be, when you discover I tricked you, Nanette thought. She would have felt sorry for Penny, if she hadn’t been an aristocrat. I wonder what your superiors will make of it.

She stood and peered into the washroom. It was smaller than she’d expected, nothing more than a toilet, a shower, a charmed mirror and a washbasin. It didn’t seem large enough for an adult, really. There wasn’t even enough room to swing a cat. She rather suspected they were meant to change clothes in the bedroom itself, rather than the washroom. It wasn’t as if there was a risk of a boy walking in the door. There were no boys staying in the school.

“You’d better get changed,” Penny said. “You’re expected to wear the uniform for your first school dinner.”

Nanette shot her a sharp look. “I thought you said we’re allowed to wear other clothes outside classroom hours.”

“We are,” Penny said. “But this is your first school dinner. And you have thirty minutes to get dressed.”

“Hah,” Nanette said. She undressed rapidly, silently glad she’d taken the time to charm away the calluses on her feet. It would have given her away, if someone with a working brain had seen them. “Is there anything else I ought to know?”

“Plenty,” Penny said. “Lady Damia is strict. I heard she once turned a student into a frog and ate her. Mistress Greenstone is a man in woman’s clothes…”

Nanette looked up, sharply. “What?”

Penny coloured. “Probably not, but she’s a very masculine woman. She could pass for a man, if she tried. The rumours are… stupid.”

She waved her hand, dismissively. “There are no servants here. You’re expected to help clean this room, if only by casting cleaning spells every weekend. You may or may not be expected to do chores… junior girls are, but you’re a little older. Keep your head down and the staff might not realise you’ve skipped an important part of your education.”

“Doing chores?” Nanette tried to sound surprised. “Really?”

“It builds character,” Penny said. “Or so I’m told.”

They say that about everything, Nanette thought. Getting bullied builds character. Running for a mile builds character. Getting beaten to within an inch of your life builds character…

“The younger girls will wash your clothes, if you put them in the basket by the outer door,” Penny continued. “Make sure you remove any blood first. You can collect them from the office later.”

“I see,” Nanette said. “Do they come in here?”

“No,” Penny said. “That’s why you have to clean the room.”

Nanette said nothing as she changed into the school uniform. It was uncomfortable, although hardly the worst thing she’d worn. There were beggars in rags who’d sell their souls for such warm clothing, even if it did itch like the plague. She did a little twirl, enjoying the way the dress spun. It was charmed against dirt, somewhat to her relief. The edges brushed against the floor. She let her hair hang down, for the moment. Penny would tell her, she was sure, if she thought Nanette was making a mistake.

“It could be worse,” she said. “Have you ever worn a ballgown?”

A flash of envy crossed Penny’s face. “Only once.”

So your family lives on the borderlands, Nanette guessed. She was tempted to ask, but it was more fun to play the detective and deduce what she could. You would have attended many more parties if you’d lived closer to the capital.

She put the thought out of her head as a bell rang. “Dinnertime?”

“Yeah.” Penny stood, brushing down her dress. “I’ll take you there.”

“Thanks,” Nanette said. “And how much respect should I show you outside our bedroom?”

“Just be polite.” Penny opened the door. “And don’t be rude to any of the teachers.”

Nanette smiled as they joined a throng of students hurrying down the stairs and into a large dining hall. A single raised table dominated the room, with a handful of older women — and a single man — being served by younger students. Nanette had a flashback to the Shadows of Mountaintop, although they hadn’t been forced to wait at tables. Penny led her to a table at the other end of the room and pointed to a chair, then waved to one of the younger students. She hurried off and returned with two plates of food. It tasted like fish stew.

And we’re hundreds of miles from the ocean, Nanette thought. The meal was bland, but expensive. I wonder how many of them realise it?

She studied the other senior girls thoughtfully as the room filled. They looked just like the girls she remembered, but there was something about them that nagged at her mind. She wasn’t sure what. They were more assertive than the girls she remembered, save — perhaps — for the aristocrats and magicians with years of experience. Perhaps it was the lack of boys that made them so confident, or perhaps it was the simple fact they had magic. They were powerful enough to stop a swordsman in his tracks, or permanently depress the pretensions of a lecher…

They paid her no heed as they sat and chatted amongst themselves, eating only as an afterthought. Nanette knew it was for the best, she didn’t want them to notice her, but she couldn’t help feeling hurt at the social exclusion. It brought back unhappy memories from her past. She’d been excluded as a junior and, even as a senior, she’d never quite been one of the girls. It was odd to realise she’d had a better time at Whitehall.

Although I was old enough not to let it hurt so much, she thought, as the Deputy Headmistress tapped her glass for silence. I knew better.

Putting the thought aside, she pasted an attentive expression on her face and started to listen.