Page 37 of The Headmistress

And just like that, things became much less strange and confusing for Sam. Alden was here under the guise of concern for his former ward to get dirt on the Headmistress who was bucking the trustees’ constraints. What a shitty thing to do, Sam thought. She could, of course, tell him that Magdalene was doing a lousy job, that she was endangering the school’s very existence. He was looking at Sam with avid eyes, searching perhaps for those very words, but Sam just stared steadily back at him.

“I think we are not yet fully apprised of all the measuresHeadmistress Noxis prepared to take here at Three Dragons, Mr. Alden.”

“Surely you see though, Samantha, that she is jeopardizing the school, certainly you have suffered because of her…”

Sam raised her hand so quickly, he immediately fell silent, opening and closing his mouth, clearly surprised by her emphatic gesture.

“Except she wasn’t the one to put me in danger. Whoever it is that is harassing her and committing these malicious acts against her, whether she ends up the actual victim or not, are the ones putting people in danger. What if it hadn’t been me touching the wire in the rain, but Joanne Dorsea? At her age, with her heart, I don’t think she could have withstood any kind of electric jolt. I was simply lucky to be wearing rubber boots. It turned out I wasn’t really in any kind of danger.”

“That’s good, that’s good.” He mumbled, still pacing the room.

“I thought the trustees would show Headmistress Nox their full support, especially considering what she’s being exposed to by doing your bidding.”

She hissed her accusation through gritted teeth, and he turned to her sharply, but Sam was not going to be deterred.

“Isn’t that why you appointed her in the first place? Because Headmistress Fenway was running the school in a decidedly liberal direction, and the trustees disagreed with her vehemently? So you chose to bring in one of the most efficient reformers of private education institutions in the country, who is famous for turning crumbling schools around. Why are you here now, thoroughly undermining her very presence at Dragons with these questions?”

Sam didn’t know where the words were coming from. But as she spoke, the last vestiges of doubt left her mind. She felt just as guilty. She’d been one of the people, like Alden, to sit and accuse Magdalene of a myriad of sins without so much as considering that she was simply doing the job she’d been hired to do.

Yes, they disagreed on some things, but as the fresh coat of paint in her classroom proved, Sam had no idea about the actual good that was being accomplished behind the scenes. All she’d chosen to see were the disagreements and squabbles and petty arguments over things that—if she was completely honest and didn’t allow herself to be totally blinded by her loyalty to Orla and to the old times—needed to change anyway. Hadn’t she wished for change? So why was she now standing in its way?

Magdalene was trying to right the wrongs and walk the line that had been drawn for her by those with true power and authority. Wasn’t it clear by now that she wasn’t really out to get Dragons back for throwing her out, for being different all those years ago, but was somehow trying to rescue the school, despite what it had done to her? Sam shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts, setting aside her tumultuous feelings for later. How was it that she always had these massive revelations in the midst of some other crisis?

A chuckle from Alden broke through the haze of her reverie.

“I swear, Tullinger Senior would’ve gotten a tickle, watching you just now. You know he laughed when you socked Joel all those years ago. Told me you had more spunk than all his progeny put together. Maybe he was right.”

He turned away from her again and resumed his pacing. Sam stood rigid—all her muscles locked with the strength of her tightly reined-in fury—refusing to process what had just happened. The revelations kept coming. It was starting to make her head spin. She thought both these men hadn’t had the time of day for her. In fact, she’d been certain they never cared one jot about what happened to her as long as they never heard of her causing any trouble, meaning they never had to intervene or get involved in her life.

“I didn’t mean to ambush you. I just heard that you might have been hurt and came to see how you were. Plus, all this is getting out of hand. The Old Dragonettes are at my every campaign event, clamoring that the school is being taken apart brick by brick…”

Sam’s legendary temper, which had oftentimes made Orla call her the Fourth Dragon, and which she was carefully trying to keep in check throughout this whole conversation finally snapped the reins.

“Ah, say no more, Mr. Alden. My safety and the school’s safety are only a concern when it becomes a problem for you and your political aspirations. I remember this from my childhood. I was good enough for campaign pictures when you were running for Governor, showing how you took care of an orphan, but not good enough to really disturb the state of the pristine carpets of your home.”

Where was the rancor coming from? Sam thought she didn’t really care about any of that, but some of it had probably been fermenting inside her long enough and was spilling out now.

“That’s not what I meant.” He made a move to get closer to her, but she stopped him with a glare.

“I think you need to drop by Headmistress Nox’s office and express your concern for her and your support for her efforts for what they are, since you’re the one who commissioned them.”

He started at this. “But you yourself don’t support these efforts, Samantha.”

“I don’t support any of the reforms you, Joel, and Timothy Nox saddled the school with. Fewer extracurriculars? Fewer scholarships? We both know your ideal number of scholarships is zero, so don’t bother arguing. What’s next? Homemaking classes? Red capes? What I’m saying is that, while I don’t agree with some of the ideas Headmistress Nox is implementing, I also don’t believe you should punish her for flawlessly executing your own orders.”

Having said her piece, she turned on her heels and exited the room, leaving him alone and looking a little frailer in the wake of her departure. He really had looked pitiful, she thought, the spineless old coot. Men like him always found women to throw under the bus for the decisions they themselves made.

* * *

The evening found Sam alone in her apartment trying to read, but in reality simply staring at the pages of the book. She had memorized The Light Princess by heart a long time ago, and yet she still loved getting lost in the beloved pages. Still, tonight they did not hold her attention. The events of the day spiraled in her mind, causing her to think of all the ways she could’ve perhaps worded her parting shot to Alden differently, without offending him. Except she found it difficult to regret any of her words when she’d meant every single one of them. Alden had not endeared himself to her this afternoon.

A knock on her door caused her to start and then laugh at how jumpy she’d become. She set the book aside and opened the door to reveal Magdalene and, unsurprisingly, Willoughby. The cat did not wait for her permission to enter and simply padded inside, making himself comfortable on the chair Sam had just vacated.

Magdalene raised an eyebrow, obviously much more polite than the cat, and awaited Sam to beckon her inside.

“You wouldn’t believe who visited me today, Sam.”

“If you tell me Stanton Alden deigned to grace you with his illustrious company, that wouldn’t be a surprise. He stopped by earlier, I know. His insouciance cloaked in concern stopped flying with me years ago, back when I was a kid. I don’t know why he expects things to have changed in the last oh... give or take fifteen years.”

---