Villainess [6]: Clio’s Harrowing Story

Red Pill [0]: Afternoons, Surprises

Homeroom 3 passed by without giving Donavan anything else to worry about, until Count Cosgrove appeared in the doorway and asked for a moment of Baron Palmer’s time. When he saw them walking out and heard their voices in the hallway, he got up to get closer, but Rosalie grabbed his arm and pulled him back down and shook her head. From their corner of the classroom, the Prince couldn’t make out what they were saying, and when he heard Viscountess Durham’s voice, he gave up eavesdropping as his mind filled in the blanks and added more weight to his guilty conscience. Even when his face remained impassive, his leg started bouncing over his chair, so Miss Edgeworth reminded him to check himself when the viscountess came in. But after a time, when Baron Palmer came back in and asked for the Prince and Miss Edgeworth to come into the hallway, the hubbub of their classmates’ voices vanished, and the Prince and Miss Edgeworth faced each other.

They got up from their chairs, went down the column of tables with their pairs of occupants throwing momentary glances their way, and headed for the doorway.

(And of course, tailing after them were six of Janet’s clones.

“This’ll be interesting,” one clone said, the emaciated and beheaded one in the soiled linen gown.

“I know,” another clone said, the one that was stabbed to death after getting her engagement broken during the graduation party at the Prince’s mansion.

“Hope they’ll get chewed out this time,” a third added, the one in the bloodstained commoner’s dress that had been shot in a botched robbery after her banishment.)

With the viscountess nowhere in sight in the hallway, meaning that Count Cosgrove must be talking with her somewhere else, Prince Blaise gritted his teeth at Baron Palmer stealing a glance at Miss Edgeworth.

“Glad you both came,” the baron said.

“What is it, Professor?” Prince Blaise said.

“I talked with Viscountess Durham just before lunch,” the baron said, “and she told me that Lady Fleming hasn’t been in class today. So she’ll be checking up on her at Mariana House after classes, but that’s not the main reason why I’ve detained you and Miss Edgeworth.”

“Then out with it,” the Prince said.

The baron paused for a spell as if he was still trying to make up his mind, then said, “First of all, I just wanted to warn both of you before classes end.”

The Prince just stared at him, then looked over at Rosalie and then back at the baron and said, “What’s going on?”

“I can’t dwell on particulars, your Highness,” the baron said. “Just know that a coach from the Royal Palace will come to pick up you and Miss Edgeworth after I return to the classroom for Homeroom 4. Homeroom will still be in session, but I will escort both of you to the coach.”

Now it was Rosalie’s turn, and she said, “What exactly is going on, Professor?”

“I can’t say,” Baron Palmer said. “These walls have ears, so I can’t say anything beyond the fact that you and his Highness must stay together in school.”

“Is it because of Lady Fleming?” the Prince said.

“Yes, but not in the way you’re thinking, your Highness,” the baron said, then whispered, “Just make sure you don’t let Miss Edgeworth out of your sight! After we talked it over with their Majesties last night, her Majesty talked it over with the school board this morning. In light of two missing students and their involvement in attacking another student in the hallways and the incident between you and Lady Fleming yesterday morning and your actions during yesterday’s lunch period, the school board has allowed Marquess Fleming to station his own guards at Mariana House for Lady Fleming’s protection.”

“Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” he said. “Just make sure Miss Edgeworth stays by your side while you’re in school.”

“If you think Rosy’s capable of something that heinous, then you’re mistaken!” the Prince said. “She would never do that to Lady Fleming, never!”

“Don’t misinterpret my words!” the baron said.

The hubbub of their fellow classmates in Classroom 1-3C then rekindled after the Prince’s outburst, making the new couple turn their heads towards the double doors, left ajar, before facing the baron again.

“Then what are you saying, Baron?”

“I can’t say more than that, your Highness.”

“Does this also involve Rosy’s safety?” the Prince said.

“It does, your Highness,” the baron said, “but your former fiancée is the main target.”

“Professor,” Rosalie said before the Prince started yelling, grabbing onto his arm again before he hit the baron. “I know this is a touchy subject, but what exactly are you saying? And what do you mean by ‘former fiancée?’”

“Can you two keep a secret?” the baron said.

Miss Edgeworth nodded her head, but the Prince said, “Really? Their Majesties and Marquess Fleming actually went through with the annulment?”

The baron nodded, saying, “As of today, you and Lady Fleming are strangers, but there’s more to it.”

“What do you mean by that?” the Prince said.

But then Miss Edgeworth caught his drift and said, “His Highness and I, are we getting . . .”

She left it hanging there.

“Yes,” he said.

Both teenagers stared and gaped.

“Congratulations on your engagement, you two,” Baron Palmer said as the lucky couple continued to gape at his words, and for a moment the Prince forgot all of his animosity against the baron and wanted to thank him for letting him know of such a joyous occasion: “Your engagement will be announced tomorrow morning after your audience with their Majesties this afternoon, but that’s not all of it.”

“You’re kidding!” the Prince said.

“What else is there to know?” Miss Edgeworth added.

“You Highness, Miss Edgeworth, this engagement is for Lady Fleming’s protection,” he said.

“Protection from what?” the Prince said.

“From the Dorians,” the baron said. “We don’t know how they’re doing it yet, but you two have been unwitting pawns in their intrigue to assassinate Lady Fleming.”

“WHAT?” the Prince said.

The hubbub of their fellow classmates, which had rekindled in their absence, died down again.

“But aren’t they gone?” Rosalie added.

“We thought so, too, but they’re back,” the baron said, “and they’ve set their sights on Lady Fleming’s life. Look, I know it sounds absurd, but just think about it,” and he turned to Miss Edgeworth. “Time and time again, Lady Fleming has gotten in trouble with you as if you’ve been used as bait to get Lady Fleming in trouble with his Highness, right?”

She opened her mouth as if for a rebuttal, but then she just nodded her head, saying, “You’re right.”

The baron then turned to the Prince, saying, “And time and time again, your Highness has always gone out of your way to defend Miss Edgeworth’s side of it without listening to anything Lady Fleming had to say, haven’t you? It’s almost as if you’ve been primed to disbelieve everything Lady Fleming says, primed to criminalize her, right?”

“You’re making too much out of it.”

“That’s what I mean, your Highness,” the baron said.

“What do you mean?” the Prince said. “Because I’m not exactly following what you’re saying.”

“Then I’ll mention the most recent instances,” he said. “Last Friday, you slandered Marchioness Fleming as a witch to Lady Fleming’s face in front of everyone around the courtyard fountain.”

“I apologized for that, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but not before hurting Lady Fleming during lunch,” he said, “for which you never apologized.”

“You didn’t even let me get near her to apologize!”

“Because she was injured, your Highness,” the baron said. “She couldn’t even walk. She had to be carried, and none of us were sure you were in your right mind yesterday, and I’m doubtful you’re even in your right mind right now!”

“Fuck you!” the Prince said.

“Donny, compose yourself!” Rosalie said.

Only then did the Prince calm down and say, “Sorry, Rosy.”

The Prince’s outburst had several double doors opening up and letting several professors on the third floor bear witness to their confrontation.

“Marquess Fleming was right,” the baron said.

“Right about what?”

“About your engagement with Miss Edgeworth,” the baron said, looking from him to Miss Edgeworth and back to him. “Since you wanted her so much, your Highness, Marquess Fleming supported your engagement with Miss Edgeworth against their Majesties’ protests. How he managed to convince them without losing his head is beyond me.”

“He did that for me?” the Prince said.

“Not for you,” he said. “He did it for Lady Fleming.”

Donavan remembered the awful tongue-lashing he had sustained under the Marquess’s fury yesterday, grimacing and clenching his teeth and blinking back his nightmare about the black-clad Marquess Fleming skewering him for his trysts with Rosalie in his morning nap. Even so, no aristocratic father, especially one of Marquess Fleming’s standing, would risk harming his own daughter’s reputation by supporting the engagement of another woman as a substitute for a prearranged marriage to a prince, not unless he was changing his priorities. With this in mind, he said, “Has Marquess Fleming switched sides?”

“To the neutral faction, yes, but he’s not the only one,” the baron said. “After your actions yesterday morning, during lunch, and during the summons, Marquess Fleming, Margrave Sydney, Duke Bartleby, Duke Woodberry, Father Robinson, Viscountess Durham, Count Cosgrove, and I will no longer swear allegiance to your kingship when you ascend the throne. I suspect it’ll be the same for Count Childeron, Count Felton, Count Kessler, and Viscount Drevis once they find out your part in this debacle, small as it is, and the number might grow after today: none of us professors will support you, and a few of us might even join the aristocratic faction to oppose you.”

Donavan found himself gaping before he knew it, saying, “You can’t be serious!”

“Then I suggest you study your family history, your Highness,” the baron said. “Your situation right now parallels that of your ancestor, Prince Richard Blaise, after he failed to protect Lady Celeste Graves from getting murdered in her own dorm. His gross negligence deprived this kingdom of a proper saintess for that generation of his reign. Due to that, he’s the only Blaise monarch to have had his divine title revoked, and for your sake, I hope you don’t fall that low. As it is now,” he added, “you better keep a close eye on Miss Edgeworth, for she is your last chance. Do you understand?”

“Yes, my Lord Baron,” the Prince said.

(After watching Baron Palmer head for Classroom 1-3A to teach his Period 5 class, passing by a staring Viscountess Durham and a grinning Count Cosgrove amidst other silent professors and even students lingering at the double-door entrances, Janet’s six clones turned and saw Donavan looking down at nothing with his shoulders slumped. Even after enduring similar condemnation events in their past lives, they felt no joy at witnessing the tables turning on their mortal enemy, his face pale, his eyes vacant, his hands trembling, and his steps trudging through the muck of nascent infamy.

Even when Lady Dorian tried to cheer him up, trying to keep up appearances despite her own pallid face and worrying lip, Prince Blaise looked like a dead man walking.

“Can Janet even save him?” one clone asked.

“I don’t know,” another said.)

 

Before Baron Andrew Palmer entered his Period 5 class, Count Cosgrove parted from Viscountess Durham’s side and intercepted the baron in front of Classroom 1-3E, whistling and saying, “You did well for your first try.”

“I won’t try it again,” the baron said.

“It’s okay,” Count Cosgrove said, “You only need to do it once for his Highness to get your meaning.”

“You think it’ll work?”

“We’ll see in a few days,” the count said.

As her fellow professors ushered curious students back at their tables and closed the doors behind them, the viscountess walked straight up to the pair of schemers and said, “What was all that about?”

“Last night’s plan,” the count said.

“Are you serious?” Viscountess Durham said, wondering if such an untoward confrontation with his Highness would later land the three of them into trouble with their Majesties.

Both men nodded.

“It’s cloak-and-dagger stuff,” the baron said.

“Damn your cloak-and-dagger excuse!” Viscountess Durham said. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“It’s a necessary evil,” Count Cosgrove said. “At least we’ve got the ball rolling now.”

“Heads roll, too,” the viscountess said, making both men stare at her for a few moments, for the meaning was clear: since Baron Palmer had leveed the allegiances of all the professors without their consent, the baron could get prosecuted for lèse-majesté in the future after Prince Blaise ascends to the throne; and Count Cosgrove could get prosecuted under it for putting him up to it; and Viscountess Durham and the other professors in the Academy, like it or not, could face prosecution under it through guilt by association. “I know her Majesty has sanctioned all of this to happen, but the means—”

“—still justify the ends,” the count said.

“They can also justify prosecution if things go south!”

And before the count could answer, Baron Palmer also said, “She’s right, you know.”

“I know that already,” the count said.

“Then you both should know,” the Viscountess said, eyeing the count and the baron in turn with a violet-eyed basilisk glare, “that your cloak-and-dagger hijinks could make it difficult for me to teach the next class. As such, if his Highness decides to threaten my job after this, I’ll just say you two started it and be done with it. Now grow up!”

Then she walked off towards Classroom 1-3C, leaving her two colleagues staring after her in silence.

 

(While Janet’s clones were still observing the Prince and Lady Dorian,) Period 5 went by with Donavan passing most of it the same way he had passed this morning’s extended homeroom: with his head resting on his forearms over the tabletop and trying to sleep, but sleep had abandoned him. Baron Palmer’s words kept him awake, lingering in his head like an omen, and it was all he could do to keep himself from thinking of worst-case scenarios like Rosalie leaving him for someone else or his mother Queen Blaise having him castrated and Rosalie beheaded after finding out their nighttime trysts before marriage or even Lady Fleming having him strung up against a dungeon wall with his pants down and raising a claymore high above his most precious body part as he was begging for her to stop . . .

He blinked the thoughts away as Rosalie shook him awake again, for he had fallen asleep before he knew it.

“What is it?” he said.

“It’s Viscountess Durham,” Rosalie said.

Donavan raised his head at the viscountess standing over him, saying, “What is it, Professor?”

“Are you okay, your Highness,” the viscountess said. “It’s the first time I’ve seen you sleep during class.”

“It’s that baron’s fault.”

“I know,” the viscountess said. “I gave Baron Palmer and Count Cosgrove a piece of my mind for roping me into it. I don’t think it’s quite as bad as how Baron Palmer said it, but no matter how excessive his words were, there’s truth in them. I won’t go so far as to say I agree with everything he said, but let his words be a warning to you to improve yourself. You’re experiencing a few tempests now, but if you apply yourself, you’ll overcome them. So chin up, your Highness.”

“Thank you, Professor,” the Prince said.

The viscountess nodded and left the classroom, while Countess Clio Valentine prepared her lesson plan by the lectern. After the two professors greeted each other on the viscountess’s way out, Countess Valentine started the first half of Period 6 with a lecture on politeness in society, both its uses and abuses. In polite society, she observed, the Kaden kingdom’s codified etiquette has a twofold use: one is to gain favor and standing amongst your peers; and the other is to exclude any outsiders that don’t share the common values of polite society. These uses, she added, were meant to build trust amongst the nobles of high society and to give commoners a model to conform their daily interactions in their lives. Thus, politeness was a measure of a kingdom’s strength, reflected in the civility and morality shared amongst nobles and commoners alike.

“Subsequently,” the countess added, “there are four kinds of politeness: negative politeness, non-assertive politeness, assertive politeness, and positive politeness. When you make a request of someone, you use negative politeness to respect the person’s right to act freely: that is called deference. When you refrain from offering your own opinion during a discussion, you use non-assertive politeness to respect someone’s opinion: that is called agreeableness. When you offer your own opinion to add another perspective to a topic of discussion, you use assertive politeness to respect the person’s knowledge: that is called acknowledgement. And when you disregard politeness in order to acknowledge your relationship with someone, you respect that person’s intimacy with you: that is called affection.

“But with that said,” she added, “politeness is a double-edged sword. In fact, the very words ’sword’ and ‘words’ are anagrams of each other, meaning that our words carry a weight and power similar to that of a sword, because just like a sword, we can use our words to protect and encourage our peers or to condemn and even kill our enemies. In light of yesterday’s events and this morning’s opinions about what happened yesterday, I’ll suspend the practice half of class and just tell you my own observations. Based on the observations of myself and the other professors this morning, I’ll provide my own observations as I saw them when I was a student here, knowing that some details may upset some of you. Even so, is that okay?”

And all the students said that it was, all of them except for Prince Blaise, who remained silent—

Which Countess Valentine noticed and said, “Is that also okay with you, your Highness?”

Now put on the spot with his classmates giving him furtive glances, he said, “It’s fine, Professor.”

“Thank you,” she said, putting away her notes in her book bag atop the lectern before continuing. “Like many of our professors here, I was a former student of this Academy. In fact, I was one of Lady Bartleby and Prince Conner Blaise’s classmates when they were here, which happens to be Classroom 1-3C, the very classroom you’re in right now. Lady Rubella Weaver at the time was in Classroom 1-3H around the corner in the side hall right next to one of the magic demonstration classrooms, whom I only had an acquaintance with while I was here. Lady Bartleby was initially very popular amongst the students at the time and had lots of friends, including me, but that was only for the first six weeks of our freshmen year.

“The trouble started after we took our magic aptitude tests and title confirmations during the seventh week of class. During that week, we all found out that Prince Conner Blaise had the earth affinity, while Lady Weaver had the light affinity and Lady Bartleby had the darkness affinity. After that, from the eighth week onwards to graduation, I noticed everyone (both students and faculty alike) turn against Lady Bartleby to the point that they would openly disrespect her even in the Prince’s presence, talking behind her back, spreading rumors about her bullying Lady Weaver, getting her into trouble and blaming her for it, but Prince Conner Blaise wouldn’t defend her even when she was engaged to him at the time.”

Yet before Countess Valentine added more, Donavan raised his hand, catching the countess’s attention.

“What is it, your Highness?”

“Professor,” he said, “did that really happen?”

“Yes,” Countess Valentine said. “If you don’t believe me, your Highness, I can request Judge Matthews to send you a copy of the inquest at the time of Marchioness Fleming’s death, which also contains addendum reports of the eye-witness details of her circumstances at this school.”

“That’s not necessary,” he said. “I was just wondering if it was true or not.”

“Ah, I see,” the countess said. “Anyway, despite her growing infamy due to her affinity, I was still Lady Bartleby’s friend and continued to hang out with her during our freshman year together, but things got dicey after spring break. Because of my continued association with her, I started hearing rumors about myself, as well, specifically on my relationship with Lady Bartleby, which caused a rift between the Prince and Lady Bartleby at the time. That’s when the Prince switched homerooms from Classroom 1-3C to Classroom 1-3H and started going out with Lady Weaver. I was absolutely despondent at this, because I had thought I caused their troubles, even though Lady Bartleby was still engaged with the Prince.

“But it escalated soon afterwards,” she added. “I’ll save you the worst details, but when I found Lady Bartleby crying and asked her what was the matter, she said she had been receiving lewd letters from anonymous senders. When I asked her if she had asked for Prince Conner Blaise’s help and had shown him the letters as proof, she said he refused to help her. When I asked her why, she said he refused to believe her and would do nothing to help her whatsoever.”

A round of whispers erupted amidst most of the students in Classroom 1-3C: only Donavan and Rosalie were silent, Donavan gaping at the countess’s words and Rosalie sitting stock-still in her seat and looking down at the tabletop. Then Donavan caught a few of his classmates stealing glances at him, making him shift in his chair.

(Now the six clones stared at a pale-faced Lady Dorian sitting next to the Prince, noticing both of her hands clenched into fists in her lap, because she was the only person in class not engaged in the current discussion, seemingly preoccupied with her own thoughts.

“Do you think Lady Dorian was involved in that?” the drowned clone said, gulping down her qualms and remembering how she had also received similar letters maligning her supposed sex life, which didn’t exist at all.

“Maybe,” the stabbed clone said, the one in the bloodstained ball gown, “but why would she be there?”

“Maybe it’s the same reason she’s been tormenting all of us,” the beheaded clone said, the emaciated one in a soiled linen dress. “I’m just guessing, but whatever her reason is, if she couldn’t do it through our mother when she was Lady Bartleby or Marchioness Fleming, maybe she’s been trying to accomplish it by messing with us instead.”

“Repeatedly?” the stabbed clone said.

“Yep,” she said, “but she hasn’t done it yet.”

“So whatever she’s trying to do, however she’s trying to do it,” the shot clone said, the one in a bloodstained commoner’s dress, “she hasn’t done it yet?”

“Looks like it,” the beheaded clone said.)

Donavan remembered Baron Palmer’s observation of him getting ‘primed to disbelieve’ whatever Lady Fleming said about her altercations with Miss Edgeworth and recalled his denials of everything concerning Miss Edgeworth even when he heard her voice confirming otherwise in Marquess Fleming’s voice-capture amulet during the summons. Then his thoughts shifted back to last week on Friday afternoon at the courtyard fountain, where he told Janet that her mother was a witch (“Only a witch could give birth to someone like you,’” he recalled), so he said, “Did my father ever hurt Lady Bartleby, Professor?”

“Not physically, no,” the countess said, “but emotionally she was very hurt. I won’t delve any deeper about it, only that she and Prince Conner Blaise had a falling out with each other the previous day, so he wasn’t inclined to help her.”

“Did anyone help her?”

“None of her peers seemed inclined to help, except for Lord Arnold Fleming,” the countess went on. “After I showed Lord Fleming the letters, we went up to the former school dean Count Ben Spencer and showed them to him, so he promised to have them investigated and had me accompany her in school in the meantime, and that calmed things down a bit. She received no more letters for the rest of that school year, but even so, we still dealt with the rumors about us as the year went on. Lord Arnold Fleming was nice enough to stick up for us, especially for Lady Bartleby, but that only worsened her relationship with Prince Conner Blaise.

“In fact, Lady Bartleby’s relationship with the Prince kept on deteriorating over our second and third year of school, but it was during the end of our third and last year that rumors about Lady Bartleby’s infidelity arose amongst the students. It was absolute hogwash, but it ended relations between Lady Bartleby and the Prince and even soured Lord Fleming’s friendship with the Prince soon after. By then, Lady Bartleby’s reputation had plummeted to the point where other students were cat-calling her and using disgusting epithets when referring to her: it was horrible! It got so bad that my own father threatened to disown me if I kept associating with Lady Bartleby, and that’s when I started keeping my distance from her. But worst of all was that Prince Conner Blaise, still engaged to Lady Bartleby, did nothing to help her at all.

“And when the graduation ceremony came around,” the countess added, “Lord Fleming was the only person by her side at that point, but the absolute worst of the worst was this: After the graduation party, I found out that my coach and coachman were missing, so I asked the coach manager if he had seen my coachman since he brought me, but he said he hadn’t. Then I asked him if there was another coach available to take me home, and he told me that Lady Bartleby had gone home with Lord Fleming in his coach earlier that evening and led me to Lady Bartleby’s coach, saying he’ll find the coachman to get me home. Well, since Lady Bartleby’s coach and coachman were still available, I entered and waited for him to arrive.

“Long story short, it was the worst mistake of my life, for someone else arrived earlier than expected, and I mistook him for Lady Bartleby’s coachman. And during the ride, despite my orders, the coachman drove in a different direction from my home and stopped by an alley in a street corner I didn’t recognize, and several shadowy figures gathered around the passenger door and yelled for me to come out. I didn’t, but they yanked the door open and pulled me out, and several of them drew swords from their scabbards as if they were going to kill me, but they stayed their blades. They asked me who I was, and I told them my name, and some of them cursed, saying they had the wrong lady, but while they were talking amongst themselves as to what to do with me, I screamed as loud as I could and startled them for just a moment, just long enough for me to make a break for it and run like mad down the nearest street. By the grace of heaven, I chose the right one, because when I turned the next corner, I found a constable running towards me, asking me what was going on, and I begged him to protect me and pointed in the direction I had come and fainted. The next day, I found myself in my own bed in my own house with Lady Bartleby and Lord Fleming and my father by my bedside, and I told them everything from my missing coach and coachman to my abduction and escape from a bunch of brigands. For Lady Bartleby’s sake, I warned her about those shadowy men, because I knew their real target was her, not me.”

Then she let out a sigh and said, “Lady Bartleby and I were extremely lucky that night, but that luck ran out a few years hence when I found out that Marchioness Fleming had been accused of witchcraft and imprisoned. When I found out she had died in prison while she was pregnant, I cried like I had never cried before or since. To think Lady Fleming was found there, to think that she had survived while her mother had died there, I’m not sure if it’s a miracle or a travesty.”

Everyone was silent after that, all students including Donavan and Rosalie sitting stock-still and staring at the speaker (while Janet’s clone stood around their table and talked amongst themselves about the countess’s attempted kidnapping and murder, all of them wondering aloud if DeeDee and the others could dig deeper into the details of the incident).

Meanwhile, Countess Valentine seemed to mull something over in her mind for a spell, till she wiped her eyes and took a deep breath and said, “I still have nightmares about that incident, and in my worst moments, I fear that those brigands are still out there somewhere waiting to get me, but enough of that,” she added, staring at Donavan in particular. “I hope you get my point. You might not always agree with each other or even like each other, and that’s fine. It’s human nature, and nobody’s asking any of you to be perfect, but for your sake, don’t let your prejudices cloud your minds.

“As a survivor myself and as a friend of someone who died so unjustly, it pains me to think that Lady Fleming is subjected to the same treatment that got her mother falsely imprisoned, where she died. Let me ask you: Does Lady Fleming not bleed as you bleed and cry as you cry? Does she not have parents as you have parents that love you and expect great things from you? Does she not breathe the same air and tread the same ground and eat the same food and share in aspirations are lofty as yours? I implore all of you to examine your thoughts and feelings tonight and ask yourselves why you hold Lady Fleming in such contempt. That is your homework tonight. That’s all.”

Silence reigned after that, not a word spoken, not a glance averted as her words held the students (and Janet’s clones) in awe, till someone knocked and said, “Period 6 is over, my Lady Countess. May I come in now?”

It was Baron Palmer.

“Yes, you may, my Lord Baron,” Countess Valentine said, taking up her book bag from the lectern as the baron opened the double doors and whistled.

“That was quite a speech,” he said.

“Thank you, my Lord,” the countess said, smiling as she left the room for her own homeroom in another part of the West Wing of the third floor.

Then the baron turned towards his homeroom class, saying, “Homeroom 4 is still in session, so just wait here while I’m out,” and he looked towards the far corner of the room. “Your Highness, Miss Edgeworth, it’s time to go.”

Donavan and Rosalie got up from their chairs and headed out amidst the furtive glances of their fellow classmates (and the clones followed after them).

But after their exit from Classroom 1-3C, an eruption of gossip and hearsay arose from the students like a plague, their speculations focused on whether or not there really was a conspiracy to kill another student of this Academy, some of them wanting to back out of this mess and others wanting to see it through to the end, saying that witches like Lady Fleming were meant to die.

To Be Continued