Page 6 of Broken Princess

Jordanna

I’ve put this meeting off for two weeks, because I wasn’t sure what to say. It was my mother’s prodding that forced me to make the call. So here I am at a house in Kingsley Hollow, waiting to see Mrs. Pepper Dane. Her butler ushered me into the empty living room and left, leaving me to infer that she’d be along shortly.

I take in the paintings on the wall. Stepping closer, my heart jumps into my throat. Is that an original Matisse? I’ve seen pictures in books, but she’s got Gustave Moreau’s Studio hanging on her wall.

I’m so enthralled with the painting, I don’t notice that someone else has come into the room. “Matisse was quite talented in his youth, was he not?”

She says it like she knows him personally. I turn to meet the keen gaze of the woman wearing slacks and a smoking jacket. I put her at about seventy years old, but the way her eyes twinkle and with her physique she could pass for mid-fifties. And yet, her face holds the wisdom of someone whocouldhave been alive when Matisse was in his youth. Unless she’s a two hundred-year-old vampire, there’s no way that could be true. The old lady settles into her seat, flicking her fingers, beckoning me forward. I hesitate before approaching the middle of the room, stopping in front of her.

“Turn.” She barks out the order in the husky rasp of someone who’s smoked too many cigarettes. “Well, are you hard-of-hearing child?” She asks when I stand rooted in place.

“I hear just fine. But I’m not about to spin like a ballerina on top of a jewelry box for an absolute stranger.”

Her index finger worries her chin as she takes in my appearance. “Now if that’s the type of etiquette they’re teaching for the tuition you pay at school, you should probably ask for a refund.”

“I’m attending on a scholarship.”

“Your first semester was only a partial scholarship. You still had to pay room and board. Am I right?”

“Yes.”

“Mm. And after where you ranked in class, do you honestly think you earned more money?”

This again? Maybe the director of the finance department got it wrong? He said the envelope contained the information for my new benefactor. This woman sounds just like him. Pointing out how I didn’t deserve the money. Not because my grades weren’t strong, but because I violated the school’s ethical and moral code of conduct. Unintentionally, and without my permission, of course. But that doesn’t seem to matter to anyone but me.

I answer her question. “No, and despite what Mr. Fillegree said, I know the extra money wasn’t out of the goodness of anyone’s heart.”

“Why do you think they gave it to you?”

I tilt my head to the side, sizing her up the same way she’s doing me. “It’s hush money.”

“You’re right. Some of the board members wanted to kick you out of school and revoke your scholarship. I paid to hush them up.” She says matter-of-factly.

“And why would you do that?”

“Because I know what it’s like to have the bastard boy’s club try to ruin you.” She points to the chair behind me. “Now, sit.”

I sink slowly into the oversized chair. Her money earns her a conversation, and as conversation starters go, hers is an attention grabber. “It’s a coed club now.”

“I know, which is why I thought it a perfect time to intercede on your behalf.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“I know more about you, then you know about yourself.”

She’s being cryptic, and I’m not in the mood to be played with. I don’t care how much she’s donated to the school. “Not to sound like a total bitch or whatever, but I’m done being manipulated by people like you. If you have something to say, say it. Otherwise I’m out of here.”

“Young people are in such a hurry.” She scolds. “Yes, child, I have something to say; but I’ll do it in my own damn time. And when I’m done with you, you’ll have your recompense, and no one will ever be able to treat you the waytheydid, again.”

Her wording makes me nervous. “How much do you think you know about what happened?”

“Unlike the school faculty and the Billionaires Boys Club, I do my homework. I knowexactlywhat happened, and Icanhelp you overcome it, if you want.”

It’s worth hearing her out. Isn’t it? She’s funneling money my way, and the school insisted I honor her wishes to come in person. She must hold a lot of power with the administration.

Her words sit with me. She’s right. They deserve to pay for what they’ve done, and when I find a way to make that happen, they’ll be the ones with their reputations in ruin. But I’m not about to blindly agree and find myself deeper entwined into VDU’s twisted games. “I’m willing to hear you out.”

“Oh, dear child. You think the answers will come in the form of a simple monologue or Q&A session? These people have been playing the game since they were weened from their nanny’s tits. Before you can topple the king, you have to know who all the pieces on the board are, and what they do.”

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