Page 57 of Reign

“We threw our invitations into the bonfire,” Emma continues, “reciting the motto for our societies. Then, the Viscounts and Viscountesses—that’s Headmaster Marron and Miss Lacey, by the way—

“Miss Lacey has been a Cloak this whole time?” I cut in, thinking of our small, innocent calculus teacher with a brain the size of Arkansas and who Chase jokingly said he was screwing. I frown, a lick of jealousy gliding across my gut.

“They like to keep the mentors, or Viscounts and countesses, in the faculty, since they’re always around.”

“I’ve never had a mentor, other than Ivy, maybe.”

Emma gives me the side-eye. “You’re a unique case.”

“Fair enough. Go on.”

“Okay, so, they ask us to pledge our loyalty and put the societies above all else. We take an oath, sealing it with a blood vow—”

“Excuse me, blood?”

Emma heaves out an exasperated sigh at my constant interruptions. “With Thorne Briar’s original blade, yep.”

My vision goes dark as I remember the ornate knife that killed Ivy. Could it be the same one? It was intricate enough. Old, precious, special. If I have to hold it, if I have to place it against my skin the way it pierced hers…

“Callie? You’ve gone pale. You okay?”

“Uh-huh.” I nod, swallowing audibly. “Keep going.”

“We hold our wrists over the fire, our blood mixing into the flames. Then, we recite the maxim again, line up in front of the queen and king, accept our robe, then go party in the Nobles’ room. That’s where our first introduction into the life of a secret society is—drugs, booze, served by almost-naked men and women. And you can take any of them to bed.” Emma shrugs, as if throwing this in front of a fourteen-year-old is standard practice at Briarcliff. “Those that overindulge are taken in by Sabine or Daniel and cared for until they can come back to school.”

“I’m not sure if that is unoriginal, creepy, or downright terrifying,” I say, then nod as I come to a conclusion. “It’s all of it.”

“Yes. It starts off stereotypical. Six figures drop in a bank account they create especially for you, to be accessed when you turn eighteen, earning interest and being invested on your behalf until then. Your wardrobe is updated when you get back to your room. A concierge number is put into your phone, who you can call and ask for anything. A pick-up, a clean-up, a cover-up. Your grades are suddenly switched to the higher tiers—except, to be one of them, you’d already have to excel in something, whether it be athletics, debate, English Lit ... They help you with your weaker subjects.”

I prop my chin in my hands, fascinated. “Ivy didn’t tell me any of this.”

Emma exhales from the side of her mouth. “I said it starts off like that. Then you’re asked to do things for them, small favors like allowing a fellow Virtue to cheat off your exam, or cleaning up small, undetermined blood splatters in certain classrooms. After that … it becomes different from the Nobles. Sabine asks you to attend outside events, like hotel ballrooms with small orchestras, or attending box seats at the Metropolitan Opera one night, before being introduced to her ‘friends.’ This is probably why Ivy didn’t tell you. She showcases her new initiates to her clientele. Sabine selects the girl with the most interest and begins the grooming process for the next princess.”

“That’s what gets me,” I say, cutting in and giving Emma a needed break. “Do you really think Sabine stops at just one girl? If she’s as greedy and vain as I assume, I’d think she’d have a few, just in case one didn’t work out.”

I hate talking about my peers like this, girls who could be me, but it’s necessary to get into Sabine’s head. Think like her, before I confront her.

“It takes a lot of effort to turn a girl,” Emma answers, then adds softly, “I should know. Sabine focuses all her efforts on you. And it’s kind, gentle, alluring. She becomes like a mother, and with many of us being so far away from home … a yearning starts, right here.” She points to her chest. “Suddenly you’re confessing all your insecurities to her, and she’s bringing you tea and listening intently, offering advice and comfort. You start going to her more and more … she’s the queen, after all. She’s given you all these gifts, so many privileges. The least you could do is meet with her and confide all your sins and discomforts until she sees you as perfect and deserving of the Virtue title.” Emma pauses, staring unblinkingly into to floor. Her lashes don’t flutter. “Until the final time, when after you finish your tea, you get tired. Heavy. Clumsy. Sabine’s beautiful, concerned expression blurs in and out. It goes black. And you wake up in a strange room, on a strange bed, with an undressed man on top—” Emma chokes.

I rush over, grabbing her hand, pressing her head to my clavicle as I stand over her, shroud her. “You can stop. It’s okay. It’s over.”

Her hair tangles in my fingers as she shakes her head back and forth. “That’s the problem. It’s only the beginning.”

My lips turn hard and grim above the crown of her head as I stare off into the wall across from us. This is why I’m being robed. Precisely the reason I’m staying on the inside instead of racing along the edges and trying to destroy Sabine and the Virtues from afar. I can’t make as much of a mess if I’m in the outskirts, and I wish, so badly, for Chase to understand that.

The Nobles are a part of this demonic underworld. Riches and unlimited power have turned these high school teens into rabid, unaccountable adults. Girls are destroyed. Rose’s message is all but erased.

These societies have to go.

“I’m ending this,” I say through my clenched jaw, so quietly I’m not sure Emma hears.

“I’ll be nearby,” Emma says, patting my arm and dragging me back into the present. “I’ve outlined the standard ceremonial robing process. That doesn’t mean I have any idea how Sabine plans to approach yours.”

I find a smile and aim it at her as I withdraw. “Sabine won’t harm me in front of everyone. It’d ruin her whole image she has going. I think she enjoys being so clandestine and one-upping the Nobles without them even realizing she’s pulling all the strings. She wouldn’t be so blatant.”

“While I agree, Eden and I will still stay close. You never know.”

I press my lips together, knowing she’s right. We don’t know what Sabine will do next, even after I’m officially a Virtue. She has to know of my legacy but has yet to act upon it or even acknowledge my buried weapon. Is she allowing me in because she has no other choice? Keeping me close because she killed my mother? To deny me entry would be to admit I did have power, enough for her to wantonly keep me out after being the person to ask me in. It would look confusing to her Virtues, maybe suspicious. After all, I don’t have proof, merely a picture of an old birth certificate. There’s nothing I can point to when it comes to my mother, either, other than conjecture. And she must be aware of that.

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