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“Are you all right, Wadsworth? I was in a rather interesting argument with the… baker and came as fast as I could manage.”
My breath fogged before me. I did not wish to know why he was fighting with a baker. Or if it was even true based on his slight hesitation. Though it was hard to retain any uneasy feelings with that ridiculous image barging into my mind. “Prince Nicolae believes I’m responsible for Wilhelm’s death. Apparently he saw us following him, and I didn’t appear appalled enough by the sight of his cousin’s corpse.”
Thomas was unusually silent a moment, studying my face with care. I fought the urge to fidget under his inspection. “How did you feel upon seeing the body?”
Snow seeped into my overcoat, coaxing an involuntary shiver. Thomas made to offer his warmer wool coat, but I shook my head, not caring for the undertone of his question. There was no way I could face this academy and its wretchedness if I knew Thomas doubted me as well.
“I felt as any student of forensics should. What are you truly asking, Cresswell? Do you think me incapable, as our headmaster believes?”
“Not at all.” He motioned toward the end of the alley, where the crowd was growing by the moment. “However, grieving or being affected by something doesn’t make you weak, Wadsworth. Sometimes strength is knowing when to tend to yourself for a bit.”
“Is that what I should do?” I asked, my voice deadly quiet.
“If you want the truth? Yes.” Thomas stood taller. “I believe it would be healing for you to acknowledge the fact it’s only been a few weeks since your loss. You need time to grieve. I think we ought to return to London—we can apply to the academy again in the spring.”
I stood there, mind churning. Surely Thomas and I were not actually having a conversation about what he deemed best for me. Before I could formulate a response, he plowed on.
“There’s no reason we need to be here now, Wadsworth. Your uncle is an exceptional teacher, and we will continue learning under his tutelage until you’re well.” He took a deep breath as if gathering courage to continue. “I’ll write to your father immediately and inform him of our change in plans. It’s for the best.”
Imaginary bars erupted around me, caging me in. This was precisely the reason for my trepidation regarding a betrothal. I could feel my autonomy slipping from my grasp each time Thomas offered advice on what I ought to do. Wasn’t that how it happened? Basic rights and wants were slowly eroded by someone else’s idea of how one should act.
I would never know what was best for myself with someone offering unsolicited advice at each step. Mistakes were a learning experience, not the end of the universe. So what if I were making one now, pushing myself forward instead of confronting ghosts of the past? The choice was mine to make, not anyone else’s. I thought Thomas knew that much about me. And once upon a time he had, but somehow he was no longer thinking with his head. Somewhere along the line, Mr. Thomas Cresswell—or rather, the unfeeling automaton he’d been accused of being—had grown a tender human heart.
I could not bear for him to slip into an approved male role in society and treat me as if I were something to be protected and coddled. I respected and admired him and expected the same in return. I knew I needed to be harsh to jolt him back to himself, though I did not relish the task.
Hearts were beautifully fierce yet fragile things. And I did not wish to break Thomas’s.
“If there is one thing you listen to, Mr. Cresswell,” I said, my voice even and steady, “let it be this. Please do not make the mistake of telling me what’s best for me, as if you are the sole authority on the subject. If you wish to return to London, you are free to do so, but I shall not be accompanying you. I hope that I’ve made myself perfectly clear.”
I didn’t wait for him to respond. I spun around and headed for the castle, leaving both Thomas and our fallen classmate behind as my own heart stuttered.
ANASTASIA’S CHAMBER
CAMERA ANASTASIEI
BRAN CASTLE
2 DECEMBER 1888
“Ileana said Prince Nicolae has done nothing but smash his room to bits since they brought Wilhelm’s body back. Your class is to perform the autopsy tomorrow after Uncle inspects it.”
Anastasia abruptly dismissed her lady’s maid and stood before her looking glass, plucking pins from her golden braids and rearranging them in an intricate design about her crown. Her chambers were slightly larger than my own and were located on the floor above our classrooms. Moldoveanu made sure his ward didn’t want for anything. It was an indication he was in possession of a heart after all.
My new friend prattled on about castle gossip regarding the prince, but I found my mind drifting away with thoughts of the building itself. While the academy was mostly empty for the Christmas holiday—save for our group of hopeful attendees and a skeleton castle staff—the corridors leading to these chambers were filled with nooks and alcoves that contained both scientific and religious sculptures. Tapestries depicting impalement and other morbid scenes hung between the nooks. Anastasia told me they were events from Vlad’s reign, victories immortalized within these halls.
On one pedestal, a thorax sat encased in glass, lungs in another. One I dared not inspect too closely featured a serpent coiled around a cross. Parts of the corridor reminded me of Uncle’s laboratory and his specimen collection. Other sections made my skin crawl. Though I’d prefer to be lost in thoughts of the dark castle rather than face the current conversation about Nicolae.
“Violent behavior is an indication of emotional instability, according to a journal I read last summer,” she said, unfazed by the fact I wasn’t chatting back. “It’ll likely affect Prince Nicolae’s place here. I doubt he’ll regain his composure before your assessment course is over. Pity for him. Not so awful for the rest of you.”
Gossiping about the prince while he was mourning the loss of his cousin set my stomach churning with guilt. I wanted to gain a permanent spot in the academy but didn’t want my entry to be based upon impaired competition. Or lack of competition because of sudden death. I supposed I also felt a bit ill for the way I’d spoken to Thomas before leaving him in the alley. Wilhelm’s lifeless corpse flashed across my mind. I also couldn’t stop worrying about my reaction to the body. Each time I came near a cadaver, I saw reminders I wished to forget.
If I didn’t deal
with these terrors soon, I’d not survive the academy. A fact, I suspected, that would greatly please Headmaster Moldoveanu. I shifted on the large settee, running gloved hands over its wooden arms.
“Why does your uncle allow young women into the academy if he despises their presence?”
“He is technically not related to me.” Anastasia reached for her journal. “Though he would have been had my aunt not been murdered.”
