Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 288(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 288(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
“That sounded tense.”
“Storm! Go to bed!” Jane practically growls the words.
Storm laughs and makes a quick escape back down the hall. Jane lets her go.
Tomorrow, she will be in a world of hurt. Tonight, everybody needs sleep.
7 MAKING FRIENDS
CRACK!
Storm flinches at the sound, but also smirks a little at the same time. It is a quite devious smile that spreads across her face as she hears the unmistakeable sound of a cane landing on a bottom. The Germans have a word for what she is feeling right now: schadenfreude. She is experiencing schadenfreude in spades. It flows rich in her veins, giving a deep sense of satisfaction and justice.
For once, she is not the one on the receiving end of that sound. She is on the opposite side of the door entirely from it. An unfortunate but very deserving girl is inside getting what is probably the first punishment of her life, and Storm has ensured it is much worse than it might otherwise have been.
The yowl that follows that first stroke of the cane is music to her ears, and of course, it is not the last. Storm counts six… no, seven… no, eight? Eight of them at least, all followed by piteous crying and begging.
The smile on Storm’s lips broadens and becomes an outright grin.
Two hours ago…
“New girl.”
It is breakfast time following her train excursion and subsequent return and Storm finds herself something of an object of interest. Most of the girls are content to gossip about her among themselves, but one of their number has broken the ice and approached directly. Storm figures the student calling her new girl is probably around the same age as her, judging by the fact she sits only a seat or two up from her at breakfast.
“Hey,” Storm says, responding to what makes sense as being her moniker.
The other girl, a pretty, lithe blonde with perfectly straight hair falling in an effortlessly regimented way around her shoulders, slides into the vacant seat next to Storm and makes a great show of trying to be nonchalant, and an equally great show of whispering more loudly than normal talking would be.
Storm can immediately tell that this girl is about the drama, and she is here for it.
“Is it true you ran away from school yesterday and had to be dragged back by security?”
The rumor mill works fast at a little place like this. There’d be no point denying it, even if Storm was inclined to, which she isn’t.
“Uh. Well, security didn’t do much dragging, but sure.”
“Is it true the new disciplinarian was involved?”
“Yeah. She found me.”
The girl’s eyes widen. “She must have beaten you terribly.”
“No,” Storm smirks. “She didn’t do anything.” She lets the word yet remain silent in that sentence.
The girl seems confused. “I heard she’s formidable. You transferred here from her old school, did you not? The one in Basel? It’s a common school. There was much chat about her reputation before she arrived. And yours, actually, if you must know.”
Storm did not must know.
“Two new people from an ex-penal colony,” the girl continues. “Quite the scandal, actually. Some of us thought old Lotte had gone completely stark raving bonkers.”
New Zealand was never a penal colony, but Storm doesn’t feel like giving a history lesson right now. This girl has a mouth on her but doesn’t seem to know how rude she’s being. It’s ironic that in a place where people come to learn manners and refinement, so many of them are the rudest, most cutting people Storm has ever encountered in her life.
“Common school,” Storm repeats the phrase. She’s never heard it before, but it’s obvious what it means. “Yes, that’s right.”
“Fascinating,” the girl says. “I’m Penelope Boadicea Fortunum-Smyth, but you can call me Penners. Everybody does.”
“Penis?”
“Pen-ners,” Penelope Boadicea Fortunum-Smyth repeats.
“Alright, Penis,” Storm says.
“Colonial accents,” Penners bemoans. “Regardless, I must ask you, do you have any advice for dealing with her? I am supposed to see her today, and I simply cannot be beaten.”
Storm is about to answer bluntly, when an idea occurs to her. Something much more fun than telling Penis here the truth. She leans back in her chair and smiles winningly at her interlocutor. “I wouldn’t worry, she’s a softie. All bark. No bite. Now, she’ll talk a big game, and she has the props, you know? The canes and things, but it’s all for show. She won’t actually use them.”
“Oh. Good,” Penners lets out a sigh. “Old Lotte’s sending me to her after breakfast.”
“She might tell you to bend over the desk, but obviously you’re not going to do that. It would be so shameful, and you’re clearly a woman of breeding.”
Penners preens, running a wan hand through her pale hair. “One couldn’t possibly say such a thing about oneself, but yes. I have the distinction of being in line to a number of European thrones. Though, of course, one hopes one is spared a coronation, as it would mean such tragedy.”