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Though I’m hit with the memory of trying to escape from my bedroom and finding the door locked. Did that really happen? Had someone locked me in my bedroom with Brom? Had she been home at that time while I was struggling? Or had it been Brom himself who somehow locked the door when he shut it?
Either way, my mother was nothing if not determined for me to move to the institute, and if I was a betting woman I would say she’ll arrive here soon.
But since none of us want to discuss with her—or anyone for that matter—what really happened last night, I can’t be walking around campus in a nightgown, bare feet, and covered in bruises. Thus it’s up to me to try and wrangle clothes from one of the teachers. I don’t know any of the female students well enough, but at least the teachers feel obliged to help, given that my family runs the school.
Brom and Crane stay behind in their area as I go down the woman’s hallway and knock on the first door I see. Ms. Choi, my alchemy teacher, answers it.
“Katrina,” she says, gripping her dressing gown around her, her black hair swept up under a bonnet. “Good heavens, what are you doing here? Come in, come in.”
She ushers me into her warm room, smelling of incense and smoke. Thankfully she’s always been welcoming to me and supportive in my classes with her, even though I’m not as good at alchemy as I want to be.
“What happened, dear?” she asks. She’s probably the same age as my mother but appears much younger in some ways, with beautiful porcelain skin and bright brown eyes that seem to never miss a thing.
I give her a quivering smile and launch into the story I concocted in my head. “I went for a walk by the lake this morning with my friend to try out a dawn spell and I tripped over some roots. So embarrassing. I fell right into the lake. He was kind enough to give me his clothes but my nightgown and boots are all soaked and I don’t have anything else to wear at the moment.”
She purses her lips as she listens, studying me closely. I can tell she doesn’t quite believe me.
“Are you alright?” she eventually says, her gaze going to the corner of my head now. “You hit your head?”
“I’m fine,” I tell her quickly, pasting on a smile. “Just smacked it on a rock when I fell, but I feel fine. Just embarrassed, that’s all. You wouldn’t happen to have clothes you could loan me for the day, could you? I’ll return it to you tonight. I won’t get it dirty, I promise.”
She folds her arms, still focused on the wound on my head and I’m glad I did up Crane’s collar high enough so that it covers the bruises on my neck. “You really should see the nurse. She’s an excellent healer.”
“I will. But I can’t go like this,” I say, gesturing to Crane’s oversized clothes. I hold out my arms in emphasis and his scent wafts up toward my nose, warm spices and fire, and my stomach does summersaults. I’m amazed that after all we’ve done and been through that just his smell is enough to make my knees weak.
Crane says he’s under my spell but I think I’m the one under his.
“I don’t have a large selection,” she says with a reluctant sigh, heading toward her wardrobe and throwing open the doors. “Teacher’s budget, you know.”
I take a look around the room while she does this, noticing more than the incense wafting from her desk; the smell of tobacco.
“Oh,” she says, catching me staring at a burning cigarette in a pestle bowl. “I hope you don’t mind. I know smoking is frowned upon but it’s a habit I picked up on my travels. It’s from Egypt. Not that I’ve been there, but I know people who have. I cleared it with Sister Leona, in case you’re worried.”
I shake my head. “I’m not worried. I’ve never met a woman who smokes.”
“Some of us do,” she says, going through her clothes again. “In private.” She pauses. “I also have some opium, if you’re interested.”
My brows shoot up at the mention of Crane’s weakness, ignoring the fact that my teacher is offering me drugs. “You have opium? How did you get it here? Did you manage to leave the institute?”
“Of course,” she says, coming over to me holding out a plain navy blue skirt and bodice I’d seen her wear a few times before. “I don’t have a corset that will hold your, well, ample attributes, but I think you should still fit this. I’m sorry it’s not as nice as what you’re used to.”
“No, it’s perfect,” I say absently, taking the items from her, my mind still tripping over what she just said.
