Page 32 of The Headmistress

Magdalene’s face was dispassionate, almost disinterested while Sam spoke, but the eyes looked right at her, and was there just a touch of the proverbial green in them? Sam chose to ignore it since it was so preposterous that Magdalene Nox would be jealous of David Uttley of all people. Still, as Sam’s outburst came to an end, she noted the tense muscles in Magdalene’s jaw relaxed incrementally.

“I don’t mean to insinuate anything. I’m just trying to understand what’s happening, because by absolutely everyone’s accounts, Sam Threadneedle is a regular Pollyanna, beloved and adored and cherished. I, on the other hand, am not.”

Sam opened her mouth to contradict her, but Magdalene simply overrode her.

“Sam, I’ve had veiled threats and dead rats sent to me. Why do you think it is unreasonable that some Old Dragonette, or one of the current ones for that matter, would wish me harm?”

“Well, wishing you harm and sending you dead plants and rodents—though highly gross and horribly wrong—is quite a step from getting you electrocuted.”

Magdalene was silent, standing still and watching the storm rage outside. Sam got up and laid a careful hand on the unyielding shoulder. So fragile yet so tense, she thought it might snap at any moment under her touch.

“I’m not excusing anyone, because the conclusions we have arrived at just now are pretty awful. But you do have to admit that some of the reforms you’re proposing at Dragons are threatening the livelihood of a lot of people—”

Like a tornado unleashed, Magdalene whirled on her, shaking off Sam’s hand in an instance of pure, fiery anger.

“And so I deserve to die?” Her face contorted in a mask of unadulterated anguish, Magdalene tried to get past her, but Sam knew that, if she let her go now, she’d forever regret the foolish way in which she’d verbalized her concern. She caught Magdalene’s wrist, looking at the tumultuous face for permission, and when it was granted by a subtle nod, Sam tugged at it until Magdalene was enveloped in her arms and simply held her gently yet firmly.

“I’m so sorry. I apologize for the inadequacy of my words. And the cruelty and carelessness you perceived in them. That is not what I meant. I mean, no matter how you slice it, this is all rather horrible, and you’re in danger because of the nature of your job and the responsibility you took on. I’m worried about you. You are cutting into a living organism here with Dragons, both old and new, and this organism is obviously outraged. But you know this. I just want you to be safe and careful. And if that means giving in on some of the things you’re trying to do…”

Magdalene shrugged and Sam immediately let her go, but she hadn’t moved entirely out of the embrace, just far enough to glare daggers right into Sam’s eyes.

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you? For me to bargain with my principles and spare some of the outdated and horribly mismanaged vestiges of the so-called old you are all clinging to? I won’t do it, Sam. I will quit before I agree to this. I will do everything that is necessary to drag this school back to where it belongs. And I will not back down because somebody is too cowardly to confront me and speak their displeasure to my face.”

Sam recoiled as if slapped.

“You don’t really mean it, Magdalene. You know that I’d never want anything to happen to you. Maybe that’s why I was much more comfortable—if you can call it that—with these incidents happening to me and not thinking that there is a possibility that they’re aimed at you.”

Magdalene gave her a long look, studying Sam’s face, the worry line between her brows smoothed out. Her eyes slowly lost their wild look, becoming more amber than blue, in a way that Sam was beginning to understand showed more positive than negative emotions, before she nodded once, very seriously, as if settling the matter once and for all.

“I believe you.”

Hearing those words lifted a weight off Sam’s shoulders she was not aware she’d borne. To know that Magdalene believed her, trusted her enough to know that Sam didn’t wish her harm, was liberating. No matter how adversarial her relationship with Magdalene was out there, here—behind closed doors in this small safe space, crammed chock-full of books—Sam knew they were on the same side. A side that allowed Magdalene to remain still and relaxed in the embrace, and let Sam simply hold her, gently caressing her sides, feeling the sinew and bones under her fingertips. This small reminder of Magdalene’s fragility, of how vulnerable she really was, despite her unbreakable will and powerful presence, made Sam’s heart stutter in her chest. Worry clouded her mind, worry and desire to shield, to protect, to cherish… And ultimately—like every other time they’d spent any significant amount of time together—any desire that Sam had towards this woman would turn hot and burning, raw and hungry.

Their eyes met, and Sam knew that her face, once again, spoke volumes about what was on her mind, but for some reason, today, now, Magdalene did not run, did not step back, did not turn away. They both hovered for what felt like an eternity, just a breath away from each other before Magdalene’s hands delved into Sam’s hair, further disheveling it and finally bringing their faces closer, crushing their mouths together.

The kiss wasn’t tender. It managed to be sharp, abrading all the barely concealed emotions Sam had been hiding for months. It excoriated her with heat and passion; it unraveled her with strength and precision, and then it delivered solace as Magdalene’s lips gentled, caressed instead of unnerved, allayed instead of frightened, and gave instead of taking.

The power of the kiss never changed though, and the hands in her hair did not ease their grip. Magdalene settled into the exchange, allowing Sam to first become an equal participant before taking over fully, giving all of herself, and taking all of Sam, as much or perhaps even more than she had in Manhattan. A swipe of Sam’s tongue drew out a moan that resonated somewhere on the most basic of levels, and it was now Sam’s turn to demand, to take, to bruise. Magdalene, pliant in her arms, vibrated like the live wire Sam had held in her hands just an hour ago. Sam found the similarities tantalizing—just as deadly, just as heady.

And then, when Sam surfaced to draw in a breath, the kiss coming to a natural conclusion, Magdalene did step away from her, putting several feet between them. She didn’t have to though, Sam thought, because the look in her eyes spoke volumes, and no amount of physical distance between them could compensate for that stubborn set of her sharp jaw.

“I know, you can’t…” But in another characteristic gesture, Magdalene flicked her wrist, silencing her.

“I can, Sam, but I won’t. I know you won’t denounce me to the trustees or give me away in any other way. But you aren’t the only one fighting on that side of the barricades, and so far and by far, you’re the only one fighting fair. Nobody else on your side is, judging by the little gifts and not-so-little ‘accidents’. You and I are risking everything by even being here like this. And I’m not prepared to do that. I came here to do this job and I will do it, no matter the cost.”

It was Sam’s turn to raise her hand to try to explain, though she had no earthly idea what she might say. Magdalene had been right all along. They were on different sides, and in Sam’s mind, things were blurring very quickly, her own loyalties, her own desires coming to a head. And yes, she knew what risk they were running by being together like this. But the words hurt, hurt much more than Sam had thought they would. Of course, she knew that, if they were caught, it would probably spell the end of Magdalene’s stewardship at Dragons. Of course, she understood that, as an ambitious woman whose career was obviously very important to her, Magdalene valued it to the point where she wouldn’t throw it all away for…

For what exactly? What was she even offering to Magdalene? Confused and yet still inexplicably hurt, Sam raised her eyes to see Magdalene watching her again. She had that uncanny habit of just looking, being utterly still, and simply taking a person in, like she was an observer and not a participant in any particular scene. It was unnerving, and yet Sam felt like there must be a reason.

Magdalene seemed to go through life very much detached from it, looking in from the outside, at least to Sam’s mind. Joanne had, if not in so many words, as good as confessed that the girl had not belonged at the school for many reasons. The school trustees had thought it unfeasible to keep her on, despite good grades and stellar performance in all other areas. Timothy had implied that he’d never managed to get her to fully immerse herself in their marriage, George had intimated that Magdalene had gone from school to school seeking success and glory… Untethered, for reasons distinct from Sam’s, but perhaps it was this quality of being adrift that had brought the two of them together, two lost souls, belonging nowhere.

Except that was absolutely not how Magdalene was with her. Sam had been perfectly truthful when she’d interrupted Magdalene’s self-recriminations by saying that she felt privileged to be let in as much as she was. Ever since they’d met, reluctantly, and step by small step, Magdalene had immersed herself in their interactions, from calming Sam in the elevator, to making love, to spending their evenings on the cliff. The only times she’d retreated was when she had denied their connection or tried to. Like she was doing now, standing rigid and unmoving, except for her ever-watchful beautiful eyes. Cold. Austere. Unapproachable even if Sam wanted to touch her, she knew Magdalene, in these moments, was like an impregnable fortress on a deeper level. Sam would be unable to reach her even if she tried.

Untouchable and untouched, Magdalene looked at Sam once again and without saying another word quietly left the room. If not for the subtle scent of wild jasmine and the tingling of her lips, Sam would be hard-pressed to believe that she hadn’t been an apparition, a dream.

Unbidden Sam's gaze fell to the book still lying on her bedside table. The Light Princess, a story about a woman untethered by gravity, by reality, by the world, who could not find her place in it and who was saved by love, giving her ground and weight and safe haven. A Prince had come and fallen in love with her, figuring out how to offer her all that she needed to take her first steps on solid ground.

Since discovering the story, Sam thought that she’d seen herself among those semi-ruined pages. Now standing in the stillness of her room, breathing in the scent of the woman who had been holding her mind and heart captive for months, Sam thought that the Light Princess may not have been about her all along.

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