Page 129 of Fortress of Ambrose
Before Yagrin left to meet Titus Duncan, he gave her a pile of books. She didn’t need magic. She never had. She never would. It irked her to pretend that she did.
She held two tomes tight to her side as she headed toward the Hall of Discovery. The corridors were full of débutants between sessions. Truly, she had only cracked one of the books open. She spent her late nights in her room reading up on Pact law, waiting for Yagrin to return from his trip.
She turned the next corner, and the shadows closed in around her so tightly, her bones turned cold. “I can’t think with you breathing down my neck, some spaceplease.”
The fog of the dead around her thickened.
She’d spent the entire time of Yagrin’s absence being as present as possible on the grounds, meeting the students, socializing with the staff. The numbers of Electus and Primus were thinning every day, and if they were switching to her brother’s side of things, that didn’t bodewell. Secundus were nearly done with induction, preparing for Third Rite Cotillion. So the weighty decision of unenrolling wasn’t a popular one. If she did need her House’s help to fend off her brother, at least she would be surrounded by the best. She wasn’t sure where Ellery was. Or what his next attack would look like. His growing numbers wasn’t a good sign.
She strode faster, popping into the specialty wings, trying to be warm and supportive to the students. Each room was filled to the brim with débutants folded over books, as if the only answer to righting the upside- down world was the intellect of an Ambroser. Débutants watched her, some with curious stares, others stoic. She noticed someone in a simple silver mask had a riband in a smoky orange hue across her chest, instead of the previously mandatory gray. The girl blushed, and Nore winked.
When she reached the Hall of Discovery, with its new bright blue wall—her other subtle attempt at boldness—she stopped. Someone had set up lounge furniture, study tables, and fresh flowers. The area was teeming with chatter over some new discovery in enhancer stone labs.
Theylikedthe color.
When she reached her office, the dead did not enter, hovering near the door, and she let out the tiniest exhale. Her desk was piled with a fresh stack of letters from complaining families about the new dress policies, allowing for fabrics in House colors, and rumors that painted walls would be added to the dormitory wings soon. She pushed the envelopes aside and searched her desk for any word from Yagrin. It was supposed to be a quick overnight trip. But it had been two days, and the lack of updates on his progress made her want to scratch her eyes out. Had he run into Ellery? She sat back in her chair before realizing the time. She exited her office, but the dead formed a wall in her doorway.
Her nails dug into the spines of the stack as she grabbed them from her desk. “I have them, alright!” She hated being a puppet, living a life that wasn’t hers. “How am I supposed to study if you never give me space to focus?”
The shadows swarmed around her before disappearing. She blew out a breath and marched faster to her room, thankful they listened to her that once. The doors to her bedroom were slightly ajar. She set the books down, a smile biting her lips.Is Yagrin back?
“Hello?” She scanned for his things but didn’t see them. She heard commotion and running bathwater in the bathroom. “Yags?” But all feeling drained from her when she noticed his shoes weren’t in their usual spot, and his coat wasn’t hanging in the wardrobe. “Who’s there?Identify yourself!”
The running water in the bathroom stopped.
She waited for an answer. None came. Nore’s pulse thudded as she ripped a lamp from the wall and white-knuckled its post, anchoring it over her shoulder. She padded to the door. Tiny bumps raced up her arms as she eased the bathroom door open with her shoulder and found Ainsley shifting together a broken handle of a brush.
“Oh, there you are!” she said. “I was beginning to worry.”
Nore sagged against the door in relief.
“I didn’t mean to scare you!”
Nore slowed her breath. She didn’t needanyonesneaking up on her. “Please be sure to close the door. Has Vincent been dismissed yet?”
“Tomorrow, Headmistress.”
“Good.” She folded her arms, wondering if he thought she was a monster. If it would lead him to sympathizing with her brother. Everyone had the impression her mother wasawful. And they were right. But Isla couldn’t care less what people thought of her. There was something to that. She leaned on the doorframe, waiting for Ainsley to finish.
“Did my mother receive her suitor selection better than I did?”
“You’d have to ask my mother. But you made history with your response.” Ainsley nudged her with a playful elbow. “In a good way, many whisper.”
That made her feel a bit better. Nore tried to picture her stern mother’s face when her surprise guest arrived at her door.At least she’d known.Aquestion ran through her mind. A question that had run through her mind a few times as a child. One she never asked. It made her gut quiver. She shifted on her feet to fend off the feeling. But as Ainsley rambled, the question chipped at Nore’s mind like an ice pick until it tumbled out of her mouth.
“Was he my father?” Nore asked. It took her mother so long to conceive. She could have had a dozen lovers by then. Unless she had a reason to keep the original around for all those years? But that would mean her mother was fond of him. That would mean she’d made peace with what they could have.Maybe it got easier?
“I am not sure, ma’am.”
“Whatdo youknow about my father? Anything?”
“Just that he was a student here. An Ambroser.”
As Ainsley finished her cleaning, Nore forgot about House duties, the tall stacks of mail she should probably go through. Instead, she took a long bath, had a cookie for dinner, and opened the windows to let some of the icy night air in. The entire time her mother was on her mind. She was the only person who knew, to some degree, what Nore was dealing with. Could she trust her? Should she?
But pondering her mother’s time as Headmistress only drove her curiosity about her father. And what that could mean for her and Yagrin. Once Ainsley was gone for the night, Nore thumbed through the books on her bookshelf. The ones that were private property of the House stayed in the Headmistress’s quarters. She pulled a thick leather one: the Book of Names for her House, a registry of each person who had entered induction at House of Ambrose since its inception. She flipped through to find the year her mother was coronated. There were seventy-three débutants at the estate that year. She ran her finger down the columns of names. But they were all meaningless to her.
She had an idea. She pulled her mother’s coronation ceremony invitation from a keepsake file of stationery, and in fine print at the bottom was a name, like there had been on hers. She didn’t know what to make of the name at the bottom of her invitation at the time. She assumed itwas some participant in the ceremony or something.Commended: Vincent Malarky, hers read. She held her mother’s invitation to the lamplight. Her hand trembled.
