Young Writers Society

Men of any sort were not allowed in the girls’ boarding school. Ever. This was one of the selling points of the boarding school, in fact. The servants were girls. The teachers were women, mainly widows with too much free time. And so, wealthy parents would send their daughters to the school, and their daughters would remain safe and free from any interaction between the opposite sex, until their parents brought their girls out to marry them off.

And so, when Solea, her eyes still blurry from sleep, crashed into a man while walking to her first class, she woke up instantaneously.

The man glared at her with fierce blue eyes. “Watch where you’re going, girl!” he snapped. “You ran right into me.”

“Sorry,” Solea muttered, staring at the man. There was something oddly familiar about him, but she couldn’t place it. She looked around for somebody else who might be with him, but he appeared to be alone. “I don’t think you’re supposed to be here,” she said carefully, setting herself in the middle of the hallway to block him from getting any further.

“It’s a good thing that I don’t care about your thoughts, then,” the man said sarcastically. “Now, move out of my way, before I get you in trouble.”

“Are you threatening my sister?” a voice from behind Solea said. Solea turned around, surprised to see Alainna glaring daggers at the man, and even more surprised to hear Alainna speaking up for her. After all, it had been three weeks since that ill-fated birthday ball, and Alainna had resolved quite firmly never to talk to Solea ever again.

“Thank you,” Solea mouthed to Alainna.

“I’m still not talking to you,” Alainna whispered to Solea under her breath. Then, to the man, she said loudly, “You shouldn’t be here.”

“And you should mind your own business, little girl,” he snapped back.

“Is this the way you dare to speak to the Lady?” Alainna demanded, her voice rising arrogantly. She straightened and glowered at the man.

And Solea hated it when Alainna used this voice against her. She hated having it rubbed in her face whenever Alainna reminded her that she was the Lady. She hated having to fight for herself to even get a shred of respect.

But Solea loved seeing the man’s face turn red.

“You are the Lady?” the man asked slowly.

“Yes, I am the Lady, and you owe me your allegiance,” Alainna said. “Kneel in front of me. Now.”

The man looked furious. He glared at Solea, then Alainna, and finally forced a smile. “Very well then,” he said thinly. “I will kneel before the Lady.” He gathered up his cloak so that he wouldn’t trip on it and knelt down before Alainna.

It was when he gathered up his cloak that Solea suddenly recognized him. “He’s a White Swan!” Solea burst out, recognizing the cloak.

Alainna turned at Solea incredulously. “Are you sure?” she said sharply. Then she looked at his cloak. “I suppose you must be right. That’s a very white cloak.”

Solea nodded furiously and then stammered, “Not only that, but he’s the White Swan that— that—”

But how could she finish the sentence? She swallowed and looked at the man, feeling very small.

“The White Swan that ordered for your execution?” the man suggested to Solea with a raised eyebrow. “Assuming, of course, that you are Uclepidies’s daughter.” Then, to Alainna, the man said, “I am Sergius, your son.” He bowed his head, his lip curled strangely. “And now, my Lady, may I get up? I have urgent matters to attend to regarding the future of your education.”

Alainna looked confused. “You tried to kill Solea?”

“Once, several years ago,” Sergius said impatiently. “It was an unfortunate misunderstanding. Your son, Uclepidies, had the ridiculous notion of siring a child secretly without letting any of us know. When I came across Solea, I assumed she was a Conqueror. And so I held her in prison until I could sort through what had actually happened.”

Solea shuddered at the words. Sergius was right, of course. It had been a giant misunderstanding. And, once he had realized the truth, he had freed her at once. Besides, he was only trying to stop a Conqueror. She knew she ought to forgive him for his mistake.

And yet, she still had nightmares of the prison. It was a cruel prison, magicked with both White and Black Swan magic, with the cells buried deep underground so that the air was stagnant and yet curiously dry. When she had been thrown into one of the cells, she had thought that she would die there, even before her execution date came.

And if Uclepidies hadn’t found her in her prison cell and protected her…

Alainna glanced at Solea and then back to Sergius. Then she narrowed her eyes. “You’re not going to try to kill Solea now, are you?”

“Is she a Conqueror?” Sergius said dryly.

Alainna looked even more confused. “No, of course not.”

“Then the answer is no, I will not try to kill her.” Sergius coughed impatiently. “Now may I get up, my Lady?”

“Of course.”

Sergius stood up, glaring at the two girls. Then, to Solea, he said, “Do you talk with your father at all?”

“Occasionally,” Solea stammered, feeling too ashamed to mention that the last time she had spoken with her father was at the birthday ball three weeks ago. She was too humiliated to admit that she was still mad at him for the awful disaster that had happened at the party.

“Then tell your father he needs to stand down from his ridiculous position,” Sergius snapped. “He is completely over-reacting when there is no reason to panic, and he might as well hear it from you as well. His suggestions and improvements are appreciated and insightful, but his continued stubbornness on the matter is not. He needs to let you grow up. He can’t protect you forever, so you should learn how to fly now, when you’re still a Fledgling, than to fall when you’re an adult.”

And with that, he gave them both one last glare before he hurried away.

Alainna and Solea watched him leave. And then Alainna said in a strange voice, “What was that about?”