Page 97 of The Holy Academy of Witches

“So then, will you be my girlfriend Miss Williams?”

“Fine.” I reached out my hand and he took what was meant to be a handshake only to place a taunting kiss on my knuckles. I brought the hand back quickly and wiped the unexpected moisture off as if it was poison attempting to enter my bloodstream.

“Don’t do that.” I said sternly.

“Do what?” He repeated my own words from earlier, his look of innocence Oscar worthy. Gods he’d be the death of me.

Maybe Christmas break wouldn’t be as relaxing as I’d hoped.

Fifty-One

Adeline

Iran my slender fingers over the ivory keys one last time before settling them in my lap, the last note playing out in the silence. My back straight as I waited, poised for the backhanded compliment I knew was coming.

“Very good Adeline, shame about the facial expression. Must you pull such a serious face while you play? It’s like you’re being tortured… Most unappealing.”

There it is.

“And who am I meant to be impressing sitting in my own home?”

“Don’t backchat Adeline, every moment is an opportunity to improve yourself.”

“Sorry, Mother.” I replied robotically. “Next time I’ll remember to smile while my fingers almost bleed from all the lessons you have me take.” I smiled sweetly at her.

“Less attitude, Adeline,” my mother commented, not even giving me a second glance as she left the room. I supposed I should move and change for dinner.

Closing the piano lid, I sighed deeply. I walked as quietly as I could up the staircase and along the portrait lined corridor to my bedroom. Each painting of a different member of the Alva family, though the similarities were enough that from afar it appeared to be the same witch and warlock in every painting. Black hair as dark as the night, creamy skin - artificially rosy in all the right places - and brilliant green eyes. And I was no different, another clone added to the family tree.

On entering my bedroom, I opened my desk drawer to retrieve my usual holiday schedule, pinning it to the notice board which took up the space above the desk. Christmas would be no different, it wasn’t usually. It would be the same repeating timetable of piano lessons three times a week, ballet twice a week, running every morning and swimming on Saturdays. Sundays were always reserved for “necessary maintenance” as my mother puts it, in other words I spent every Sunday of the school break ensuring I was preened to perfection; skin cleansed, nails manicured, hair trimmed.

Considering my mother was the headmistress of the Academy you’d think she’d also be the one to teach me at home… you’d be wrong. I also had to fit in private tutoring, despite being years ahead in all areas. It was only day one of the Christmas holidays and already I was fed up.

Glancing at the clock and realising the time, I changed to a suitably modest but flattering dark green dress for dinner with my parents and Aunt.

On entering the dining room, I took my usual seat at the unnecessarily large table. A spread of food was summoned into existence the moment my bum touched the chair.

“Oh wonderful, Venison!” My aunt exclaimed, with delight I guessed… her face didn’t move much these days.

“Yes, It’s not in season but I told Valerie we must have it for this evening.” My mother replied with an equally immobile expression.

I silently tucked into the food which had been placed on my plate. She couldn’t let me help myself to a portion, even when I would be back at the Academy in two weeks eating as much as I liked, or as much as I could tolerate on the bad days.

“How is school going Adeline?“ my father asked from behind his newspaper, having not even touched his food yet.

“Well, thank you.”

“Still on top of things?” He asked, looking at me with his usual stern expression which left no room for anything but agreement.

My mother gave a shrill laugh which almost made me flinch. “Of course, Adeline is top in the school and will remain as such.”

I avoided my mothers eyes and focused on the remaining food on my plate, which, of course, promptly disappeared.

I looked up at her to see she was still staring at me. “Speaking of being top of the school…” Oh Gods, where was this going? I sipped my drink nervously. “I had an interesting conversation with Sage Williams’ mother on the phone,” She said the word interesting like she’d swallowed a wasp, which told me all about how that conversation must have gone, “We decided it would be beneficial if you continued your tutoring of Sage during the Christmas break… to correct her…inadequacies.” I opened my mouth to correct her but closed it again when I realised there was nothing I could possibly say. “Tomorrow morning at nine am sharp you will go to their family home. I’ll allow you to decide the times and days which suit you both there after”.

Looking down at my plate, I saw it had been replaced with what looked to be mango sorbet. I looked across the table to see puddings and cakes of varying intricacies and consistencies… trifles, sticky toffee pudding, delicate handmade macarons, even a three tiered chocolate cake. All handmade by my parents’ kitchen staff. I looked back down at my sorbet. Gritting my teeth, I picked up the golden desert spoon.

“How wonderful Camilla! You’ve outdone yourself,” my aunt remarked.

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