Page 30 of Tarnished Embers

“Miss, the first of the tutors is here,” Reginald announces with a small bow. Gosh, I wish he would stop doing that.

“Thank you, Reginald. We’ll be along presently,” I reply, and he gives a nod before leaving the room and shutting the door with a quietsnick.

“Not until you’ve eaten, Sugar,” Prince commands, his voice slightly strained, and I mentally high-five myself.

“Of course, sir,” I sass back, and the growl that vibrates from his chest has my thighs clenching. He clearly enjoys being addressed like that. Noted. The chair between him and Cas is free, but I decide that I’m not quite done playing the brat, so instead, I turn back to Kit. “Is this seat taken?” I indicate his lap, and he gives me a boyish grin that has wetness coating my inner thighs.

“No, miss.” Scooting his chair back, he pats his knee and I lower myself to sit on it, biting my bottom lip between my teeth when my bare pussy rubs against his jeans. His arms wrap around my waist, and he pulls me back until our upper bodies are flush. “Remind me never to piss you off, Pretty Thing,” he whispers in my ear, and this time a peal of laughter rings out from my lips.

I haven’t felt this…free in so long; the feeling goes straight to my head, leaving me almost dizzy with the rush of how much fun it is just to not be serious and mess around a little.

I eat whatever Oct feeds me, Kit’s hand resting on my upper thigh but going no further, his form of payback. I’m just glad his jeans are dark, perhaps the damp patch I’m pretty sure I’m leaving won’t be so obvious then.

After a few minutes, I quickly finish up.

“We should probably get going. What’s our first class?” I ask as we get up from the table, annoyed that Odette didn’t even leave a timetable, never mind letting me choose what subjects I’m doing. I know a one-on-one tutor is better than a full-class situation, but I can’t help feeling like I’m losing all control over my life.

“We all have English first,” Oct tells me, settling his arm across my shoulders as we head toward the library, where our lessons will take place. “Then Maths.” He laughs when I make a face. “And after lunch, you’ll be doing art while we do fencing and other sports.”

“What about the subjects you guys want to study?” I ask, and he pauses, all of us stopping just outside the library doors. “And shouldn’t Prince and Cas be at university by now?”

“We’ll talk to Odette once she and your dad get back,” Cas says from the other side of me, and I glance at him, seeing the way a flush creeps across his cheeks, and the fact the others won’t look at me but down at the floor instead.

“It’s always been this way, us being home-schooled, we get a better education,” Oct adds, but his tone is uncertain, like he’s trying to convince himself as much as he is me.

“You have to fly the nest sometime,” I tell them gently, all of their faces snapping towards me, and I can’t help wondering why she’s kept them at home for so long. “I’m sure Dad will be happy to help you guys with anything if you want to go to uni.” I look at Prince and then at Cas.

“You are too good for us, Cinders,” Cas replies, a slight rasp to his voice as he cups my cheek in his palm and kisses my lips softly. I should worry that someone will see, but with my father and Odette away for three weeks, I can’t find it in me to care right now. So instead, I enjoy the feel of his mouth against mine. “We should go inside,” he whispers against my lips, and I nod reluctantly before pulling away and taking a deep inhale.

“Let’s go to school?” I say, but it sounds more like a question, and the guys laugh as they open the door and we walk inside.

* * *

The morning goes by faster than I thought it would. Our English tutor, Mrs Brown, is engaging and animated. I enjoy her discussion on how a study found only six narrative plots, which pretty much every story fits into.

I struggle a bit more with Maths, having bid that subject good riddance a long time ago and fully intending on never studying it again. Mr Green isn’t a bad teacher, he’s interesting, and with his moustache, round glasses, and waistcoat, he looks every inch the old mathematician. Kit, Oct, and Cas are all really fucking good at Maths. Prince is like me, hopeless at sums, and I whisper to him it’s our creative brains that make the subject difficult after Mr Green asks him a question that he can’t answer. Poor Prince’s cheeks bloom in embarrassment as he fumbles his response. It’s nice to see one of them blush for a change, though I wish it weren’t through shame.

The grateful smile Prince gives me is enough to make me not hate Maths so much, but I vow to chat with Odette when she and my father return, telling her I won’t be continuing with the subject. They can’t force me to take it—I haven’t done so for the past couple of years—and it’s not one I need for getting into Goldsmiths.

We have a quick lunch, then the guys make their way down towards the gym in the basement that I’ve never used, and I head into the sunroom, squealing when I see an easel set up and a table full of art supplies laid next to it.

“I’m glad to see your excitement, Ember,” a deep, feminine voice says from my left, and I turn my head to find an older woman, her grey hair up in a messy bun, wearing the brightest dungarees I’ve ever seen. “I’m Mimi, and I’ll be your art teacher.”

“Hi,” I reply, giving an awkward as fuck finger wave, even though she’s standing in front of me. Ugh, sometimes I wonder about how I ever managed around people. She just chuckles and then holds her hand out to indicate two of the wicker chairs.

“Odette mentioned that you’d like to attend Goldsmiths?” she asks, tucking her legs up under her after she sits down. I cross mine, slightly regretting my life choices right about now as I’d love nothing more than to get comfy, but I’m not sure Mimi wants to see my clamshell.

“That’s the goal, yes,” I tell her, my fingers toying with one of my pigtails. “I’m not sure if I’m good enough though.” I suck my lower lip in between my teeth, worrying it.

“Hey, from what your previous tutors sent over to me, you are very talented, Ember. We just need to make sure you’ve got all the things they’d like to see in your portfolio. Can you bring that next time?” I nod eagerly, the need for Mimi’s approval after such a compliment making my heart beat faster. “Fab. For today, how about we let go and you show me what you enjoy doing best?”

“Okay,” I say, excitement flooding my veins as I get to my feet and head over to the table. Everything is in neat rows, unlike my nook upstairs which is organised chaos. My fingers itch to rip open all the packets and I hear a soft laugh.

“Use anything on there, Ember. It’s all yours to do with as you see fit.”

Reaching out, I snag a pencil, an idea already beginning to form in my mind of what I’d like to draw, then I touch the tip onto the fresh piece of paper. It’s so blank, so bare, and ready to take whatever I give it.

Taking a deep inhale, ignoring the fluttering in my stomach of having someone observing, I drag the lead across the page and make my first mark.

---