The line crawled along at a steady pace, and Sebastien grew more anxious as the minutes passed. ‘When the clock strikes six, will they turn away those who haven’t managed to sign up in time?’ When she was finally the second-to-next person in her line, a commotion at the gates drew her attention.
A group of wealthily dressed young people ran through, the one in the lead shouting, “Make way!” as they laughed and stumbled past the guards and into the people at the ends of the admission lines. The troublemakers comprised a couple of girls, one wearing trousers, and four young men. “Make way!” the boy in the lead said again, panting slightly, but not enough to have walked up the path for normal people. “We have an emergency admissions applicant here!” He looked to another boy, grinning like a puppy that had just performed a trick and now expected a treat.
The other boy frowned, examining the crowd with his distinctive pale grey, tired eyes. He flicked perfectly coifed hair that Sebastien suspected had been dyed to achieve its shiny chestnut color, and muttered something to his companion, who lost some of his boisterousness.
With only slightly more consideration for those waiting in line, the group moved toward the admissions building, bypassing everyone else.
Sebastien waited for someone to say something, or at least grumble pointedly, but though people frowned, they stepped aside and looked away when any of the group drew near.
The first boy reached Sebastien, and raised one caterpillar-like black eyebrow as she met his gaze defiantly. He didn’t stop for her, stepping forward once more and slapping a hand down on the shoulder of the boy ahead of her in line. “You don’t mind if we cut in, do you? My friend here hasn’t yet submitted his name for the examination, and we only just got back to the city in time.” He gestured to the other boy, who moved to the admissions center window as if the outcome was already a foregone conclusion.
The boy in front of her mumbled something unintelligible, and as Sebastien realized he wasn’t going to refuse, her anxiousness over the last day and astonishment at this entitled group’s actions turned to anger.
“No,” she said. She only realized how loudly she’d spoken when everyone in the courtyard turned to look at her.
“Pardon me,” the boy with the eyebrows said, giving her what he seemed to think was a charming smile. “I am afraid I don’t know your name. I am Alec Gervin and my friend”—he gestured to the boy with strange eyes—“is Damien Westbay.” Gervin’s tone obviously indicated that she should know who they were—and maybe lie down on the ground so they could walk on her to keep their shoes from getting dirty.
Behind them, the girl in the suit and trousers shifted uncomfortably and shot Sebastien what might have been an apologetic look.
It did nothing to ease Sebastien’s ire. She raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think names are the important thing here. Rather, I’m more interested in common decency. Most children are taught how to wait their turn. Are you unfamiliar with the concept?” Silently, she added, ‘Just how closely related were your parents?’ But she still had enough mindfulness to keep herself from saying it aloud. Her sharp tongue always seemed to get her in trouble with those who couldn’t handle having the truth pointed out to them.
What little noise there had been immediately died away. Only then did Sebastien recall that she was supposed to avoid drawing attention to herself.
Damien Westbay pulled his friend back before the other boy could finish sputtering, stepped closer, and looked Sebastien up and down slowly. “As you have come here in ill-fitting, clearly borrowed clothes and seem to be ignorant of even the most commonly understood societal mores, let me explain more clearly. I am a Westbay, of the second Crown Family, and you would do well to graciously accept this chance to do me a favor.”
Sebastien wanted to snort, but that was crude and would make her seem less than him. “Even more reason that you should act with more decorum than this. A Crown Family member neglects to submit their application until the final hour, and is then so desperate to do so that they must push aside and trample on the commoners? A Westbay could simply approach one of the professors or heads of administration and receive a place in the examination roster, could they not? Or, perhaps, they could comport themselves with the level of class supposedly inherent to their birth and wait their turn patiently.”
A flush had crawled up Westbay’s neck and settled high on his cheeks as she spoke. His nose flared in anger and he took another step closer to her.
Just as he opened his mouth, a sharply snapped, “Damien!” cut through the air.
Both of them turned toward the speaker—a tall, severe-looking man with dark hair tied simply at the nape of his neck. He scowled down his high-bridged nose at the boy. “Desist making a fool of yourself and come with me.” He had a lofty-sounding accent and spoke with biting precision.
Damien Westbay deflated immediately, the flush still bright on his cheeks as he looked around at their audience and then hurried away without a second look at Sebastien. “But, Professor Lacer, I was merely defending myself!” he said indignantly.
Sebastien’s eyes met the dark gaze of the professor for a moment, and she felt the breath go out of her.
The man gripped down on Westbay’s shoulder and marched him off, ignoring the boy’s continued attempts to exonerate himself.
Alec Gervin threw her a glare and hurried after them, followed by the rest of the high-class group.
The girl in the trousers, the one who had seemed embarrassed by her companions’ actions, shot Sebastien a crooked smile as she brushed past, her eyes bright with amusement.
Sebastien barely registered it, too caught up in her thoughts. ‘Professor Lacer? Thaddeus Lacer? Youngest Master of free-casting in a century?’ He was one of the biggest reasons she’d so desperately wanted to come to the Thaumaturgic University of Lenore, specifically. He was older than the last likeness she had seen of him in an old newspaper, but his features were still recognizable.
“Step forward, young man. Sir, you are holding up the line!” The woman calling for her at the counter abruptly brought Sebastien out of her thoughts.
As she stepped forward, Sebastien looked again at the spoiled brat being escorted away by Professor Lacer. Knowing someone like him could expect to get past the entrance examinations was just one more reason she couldn’t allow herself to fail.
----------
Question: What do you think about Sebastien's reaction toward Damien and his friends? How would you have acted in that situation?
Comments (0)
See all