Page 91 of Fortress of Ambrose
Yagrin and Isla whispered behind her, and she bristled with irritation. She glared at them and hardly recognized her mother. Isla’s hands were linked, worry lines carved her face like a pumpkin, and there were tears in her eyes.
I am so sorry, Isla mouthed.
When they reached the vault, Nore held up her hand to the wall behind the glass, where she’d opened it so many months before. The wall rippled, and her hand dipped inside. The dark bundle the ancestors held emerged from the shadow it was in and was thrust into her hands. Nore stepped through the rippling wall and set the glass box with her beating heart down without looking around, keeping her gaze turned toward the exit. Then she dashed back out. The ancestors swarmed around her before vanishing in a haze.
On the wall behind her was a message carved by the dead into the plaster with something sharp.
Always Watching
She tried to slow her breath.
She recognized some of the faces in the audience of Ambrosers, who’d followed them to the Hall of Discovery. There was pride in some of their expressions. One girl’s chin raised, books tucked tight to her chest.
Nore smoothed her clothes.
“They’re waiting for you to acknowledge them, ma’am.” The tiny voice was Ainsley’s. Her maid. “Was there anything you wanted to say?”
“No, there’s nothing I want to say.”
“Then you must say that. It’s tradition for a new Headmistress to address the House when they take over.”
Nore’s heart must have returned becausesomethingwas lodged in her throat.
“Perhaps at coronation?” Ainsley suggested. “Once you’re more rested.”
Nore nodded, still unable to find words. Her clammy hands slipped against each other as she clasped them. Yagrin moved beside her.
An odd feeling came over her. An unsettling twist in her gut and a deep sense of mourning for the child she was. This was the future she was reared for. She’d marveled at it when she was very little, before she realized she was different. And now it was meaningless, completely void of anything that actually mattered.
“Breathe in for four, out for six,” he said, sensing the hold her anxiety had gotten on her. She did it, and the tightness in her chest began to unwind. She hadn’t felt like this since—dark memories tried to haunt her. She shoved them away.
Her mother was still among the crowd. Anger reddened Nore’s cheeks. She wasnotthe nervous, fidgety daughter her mother mistreated. Wasn’t she theHeadmistressof House of Ambrose? Becoming Red, being who she wanted with Yagrin, had ignited a fire in her to bury those anxious parts of herself, once and for all. She stood straighter.
“It’s been a long journey and an even longer few weeks,” she said. “I will address you at coronation. Get back to your studies.”
“Tomorrow,” her mother announced from across the hall. “Coronationtomorrow.”
“Tomorrow, right.” Nore paled and rushed off.
“Nore?” her mother called, hustling to catch up with her as the crowd dispersed. Yagrin stayed close but silent. And as much as she wanted to shoo him away, she didn’t.
“I can stay and help you prepare.”
“Why is it tomorrow?”
“House laws. In the case of a Headmistress taking over in times of conflict, coronation is fast-tracked. Or in your case, when you’ve already taken part inotherceremony sacraments, the process must be completed immediately—the first sunrise after.”
My heart is in the box, she means.
“Right now, you’re like partly Headmistress until the ceremony. As much as we wear gray, we like to keep things very black-and-white.”
She would be thrust into this whether she wanted to or not. She looked at Yagrin, and in his golden-brown eyes, she could see into his soul. It longed for her. She felt sick.
Her mother touched her arm. “There are certainpreparationsthat a mother could be helpful with.”
“I can manage myself.” Nore left her mother there, but her maid and Yagrin stuck to her heels.
The trio halted at the door to the Headmistress’s private quarters.
