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)
“Can I at least get a shower first? Laura dragged me up the mountain.”
“Ms König,” Frau Lotte corrects Storm.
“Fine. Ms König dragged me up a mountain.”
“I expect you in my office in five minutes. Do not be late. You will receive one stroke of the paddle per minute you are.”
Storm feels her mood drop with that threat. There is no way she’s allowing this woman to touch her. People are starting to get the idea they can just hit her, and that is not something she wants to encourage.
She doesn’t have a long time to shower, but Storm takes one anyway, and grabs a book, The Scarlett Pimpernel, a big thick tome of stories dedicated entirely to revolution, impressive escapes, hijinks, and general capers. It is her favorite book, and more than a set of stories, it feels like a friend. She has a feeling she is going to need one this evening.
Ready, Storm enters the headmistress’s office with seconds to spare. She feels better after a shower, though she could do with dinner.
“Just in time,” Frau Lotte says. “Sit down over there and commence your studies, please.” She gestures to a little wooden desk/chair combo in the far corner of the room. It looks more like an anachronistic prop than a place anyone might work.
“Where is Jane? She told me to wait for her.”
“Miss Strict is enjoying her weekend,” Frau Lotte says.
“Nice for some,” Storm grumbles, as she slides into the hard wooden seat. It is not the most comfortable thing to do and makes her immediately resentful. She has been doing her best to follow everyone’s orders, it’s just that suddenly there seem to be so many more of them.
“Yes. It is. It is nice for those who have earned recreational time to get it. And it is equally proper that those who have earned nothing receive that too.”
There is a long pause after that acerbic statement. Storm knows she should just let it go, but she is very bad at letting things go. This woman has been giving her hell since she set foot at this school, and Storm is over it.
“What is your problem?”
“Excuse me?” Frau Lotte looks up, one brow raised in warning Storm refuses to take note of.
“What is your problem with me? Why did you even accept me if you hate me?”
“You were accepted as a favor to Miss Strict. She is an extraordinary asset to our school, and we gladly agreed to take you as well. I did not anticipate as much trouble as has eventuated, but a promise is a promise and I intend to honor it.”
“So I’m the cloud to her silver lining.”
“Very poetic. And accurate.”
Storm looks back down at her book, but she can’t focus on the words. She knows she should stay quiet, avoid trouble, keep herself safe, but words are bubbling up inside her. Words that demand to be said. Though she fights them back, once, twice, nearly three times, they’re still somehow on her tongue and out of her mouth before she can stop them.
“Well, you don’t have to be a dick about it.”
Frau Lotte makes a disgruntled sound.
“Go and stand in the corner, girl.”
Storm gets up, taking her book with her. She can read in the corner, she guesses, seeing as this is still allegedly a study session and not yet another torture Storm session.
“Leave your book behind.”
Storm throws the book down behind her and goes and stands in the corner, arms folded across her chest. She has a grudging respect for Frau Lotte’s Germanic honesty. But it does not feel good to be an unwanted problem.
She’s felt like that her entire life. Part of her wonders why they didn’t just let her run away. That would have solved everybody’s issues in one go. Instead, they, like previous people, seem to keep her around just to tell her they wish she wasn’t around.
It’s close to impossible to have a good attitude under those circumstances, even if she wanted to have one, which she doesn’t.
“You have been given an opportunity…” Frau Lotte begins.
Oh god, she’s going to give a fucking lecture, Storm realizes. It’s not bad enough to be forced into this stupid, childish punishment. She has to listen to someone who barely knows her tell her all the many things that are wrong with her thoughts, feelings, and actions. What a fucking brilliant evening this is turning into.
“Just let me go back to my room,” Storm interrupts. “You don’t want me here, so why have me here, in your face? Just dismiss me to my room already.”
“I’m not going to dismiss you. You are here, and you are my student.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. Whether you like it or not, I am your headmistress.”
Storm narrows her eyes, but she can’t really deny that. Frau Lotte is the headmistress. That’s a simple statement of fact. She is in her care, and technically, Frau Lotte is probably the person most responsible for her.