Page 119 of Fortress of Ambrose
Nore rose from her bed and joined Ainsley at her closet. She closed her hand around Ainsley’s as she struggled to pull the dress strap onto the silk hanger. “Are you alright?”
“Yes.” Her maid didn’t elaborate, tucking her chin down and shoving the dress in the closet to pull another.
“Look at me,” Nore said.
Ainsley obeyed with tearstained cheeks.
“Ainsley?”
“I amsosorry. I can’t believe you didn’t know! The former Headmistress usually goes over these things. You should have been given a rundown of his qualifications beforehand. I don’t see you and your mother talking much.” She sighed. “I should have asked to be sure.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about.”
“You cannot be all you are required to be if I am not supporting youperfectly.” This House’s obsession with superiority bled into one with perfection. And it made Nore want to claw her eyes out. Ainsleytsked, noticing a slight snag in the seam on the next gown she pulled. The maid worked magic between her fingers, smoothing her thumb over the thread. It wriggled free from the dress, and the hole in the garment widened. Ainsley groaned, trying again.
Nore snatched the dress from her hands and tore it as best she could. The rip in the air sent a thrill through her bones.
Ainsley gasped. “Headmistress, that is one-hundred-year-old linen.”
“I don’t care.” She asked Ainsley to sit in the chair by the fire and pulled up a seat to sit beside her. “It is not your fault that I didn’t know. My mother tried to warn me, I suspect. Anyway, if it is anyone’s fault that I didn’t know, it was mine.”
Nore could see the shrug of disbelief in Ainsley’s shoulders, her gaze stuck to the torn dress on the ground. It mattered too much to her. It all mattered too much to them. House of Ambrose was a prison. And she was its warden!
She grabbed a dress from her closet and held it to herself. “I think this is quite nice. Did you pull this one?”
“I did. From a few Seasons ago in your mother’s old things.”
“You have such a good eye for fashion, Ainsley. This is perfect.” Intruth, the dress was just as drab as the next. But Nore didn’t care. Before she was Headmistress, the fashions in her House never bothered her. But now that she was trapped, every dot of monotonous gray was another form of restraint, a reminder her life had been drained of color and she had no say. But the sparkle in Ainsley’s eyes now as she readied the dress for dinner that evening made up for the dress’s lack of shiny beading.
Ainsley smiled to herself as she crossed the room to change the sheets.
“Leave them another night, please.”
When Nore finally emerged from her room, she found Priest Winkel combing his bushy eyebrows as he waited outside for her.
“Winkel, I could have met you in the dining room. You must be tired, standing all that time.”
“Oh, I am much more fit than I look, Miss Ambrose.” He stuck out his arm, and she hooked her hand onto it.
“I also…” he said under his breath as they walked.
Here it is. A chastising about how I’m not doing a good job.It was actually shocking she hadn’t gotten one from her mother yet.
“Before we are in the company of so many, I wanted to just check in with you. There are concerns swarming.”
“Because I had my chosen suitor put on display in his underwear?”
“The research and interviews revealed that Vincent is a cooperative and natural leader in all his athletics at his traditional school. His maezres here spokemosthighly of his character when we did our research. He presented like a bright, compassionate young fellow. What did you not find suitable?”
“I had no idea of this tradition. My mother never told me. I asked him to leave. But herefusedto leave my room, climbing into my bed practically naked,insistingI make an heir with him!”
Winkel froze, gaping. “Your predecessors have been unwavering in their commitment to employ logic to make the best heir. These things are usually celebratory andcertainlyconsensual. The boy may have been confused, but disregarding your unpreparedness and ignoring a directorder from his Headmistress to leave isinexcusable. A fewmore daysof punishment seem in order. I truly apologize. The priesthood take heir mattersveryseriously. We try to make the best selection possible.”
“Did you decide for my mother?” Nore wasn’t sure where the question came from. She’d never known her father. She’d never even heard a whisper of his name.
“We did.”
A follow-up question stuck in her throat, but she pivoted. “Had I done what you all recommended, what would have happened to Vincent after?”
