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“Sure," Storm lies through her teeth. “He belongs at home. This is just a little holiday.”
The headmistress, having heard enough, takes charge. “Why don’t you take the dog, Miss Strict. He can stay in your chalet. I am sure you will find your way there, according to the maps you’ve been given. I will give Storm a tour of Birchbane, and conduct her to her room. Ordinarily I would give you both a tour, but our additional guest must be accommodated.”
“I don’t want to…” Storm begins to complain, but she is swiftly stopped.
“Storm…” Jane says. “You promised me you would be good, remember?”
Storm reluctantly hands Kravik’s leash to Jane. She does remember. That’s why she allows herself to be ushered into the interior of the institution, but it doesn’t stop her looking over her shoulder out the door as Jane leads Kravik off to her faculty chateau. She keeps looking until the door closes behind them both with the heavy yet muffled sound of a well-made piece of domestic engineering, and then she is forced to look at this new woman who smells like a Bible.
“The first thing we need to do,” Headmistress Lotte determines, looking Storm up and down, “is to get you into some proper attire.”
The first thing the Headmistress needs to do, as far as Storm is concerned, is fuck all the way off.
5PROPER PROPERNESS
Having found her accommodations very suitable indeed and settled Kravik in the little backyard with a bowl of water, Jane returns to the main school building. She has the feeling that all might not be going well there. Storm looked utterly bereft when she took Kravik away, and Jane wants to ensure that her first day at Birchbane goes well if that is at all possible.
Upon entering the chateau, she hears Storm almost immediately, her voice carrying clearly from somewhere down one of the many halls.
Someone is getting a lecture. That is not surprising. What is surprising iswhois getting the lecture. Jane can hear her charge quite clearly as she walks down the cozy yet refined hall, passing what appear to be student dormitories. These are not simple bed and cupboard affairs as one might find in a traditional boarding environment. Instead, they are well appointed individual rooms with classic art on the walls and fine furnishings. It is an atmosphere of true refinement, and Jane would be basking in it if not for what she is hearing.
“… it is incredibly rude to comment on someone’s clothing, and even more rude to fail to greet that person properly upon meeting them. You led with an insult. Not to mention, the way you spoke to Miss Strict, practically upbraiding her in front of me without so much as a how-do-you-do, I hope your train journey was nice, did you find the place okay, would you like a cup of tea? I find youexceedinglyrude, Mrs Lotte, and frankly, I can’t imagine what value I’d get from your classes if this is how you’ve turned out after living here full time for what must be the better part of a century. And another thing…”
“Storm!”
Stepping into a bedroom, Jane enunciates the girl’s name with a crisp coldness and sharp edge that cuts through the tirade.
After a brief moment of initial shock in which she looks faintly chastised, Storm swings around to look at Jane. “What? Am I wrong?”
“In the corner. Now,” Jane orders, pointing to a portion of the room unoccupied by anything.
Storm deflates visibly as she meets Jane’s stern gaze. For her part, the headmistress seems utterly stunned to have been spoken to that way by a teenager who looks like she was dragged backwards through several bushes before arrival.
“But…”
“Corner. Now.”
Storm goes reluctantly and somewhat resentfully.
“Hands on your head.”
“You’ve got to be…”
“Now.”
Storm lifts her hands and puts them on her head.
“Nose to the wall.”
“Ugh,” Storm groans, not moving at all. She has clearly forgotten almost every bit of obedience Jane has trained into her over their limited association, but to be fair, there have really only been one or two proper punishments. Most learn the first time, but Storm is clearly the sort to forget and need a painful reminder.
“I’m afraid I don’t have my implements here,” Jane says. “I wonder, Frau Lotte, if you might have a wooden hairbrush with a flat back to hand?”
“I shall endeavor to find one,” the woman says with a steely gaze at the young lady in the corner.
Jane finds herself not quite surprised but certainly displeased to be already at the point of disciplining Storm not fifteen minutes after their arrival.
“I’ve never heard you like that,” she observes with Storm still standing in the corner. “What got into you?”
