Andrea sat by her mother, as she had been for most of the night, her cold hand
wrapped around Andrea's, fresh from a dream where her mother was the
opposite of how she was now. Fine and smiling and laughing and alive.
She is alive, Andrea thought, appalled at even having to reinforce that thought in
her own mind. The EMTs who had showed up to the scene had asked her a few
questions, and were kind enough to take her babbling and stuttering nonsense as
a young child being far too concerned with their mother to try and answer
questions. The doctors had done all that they could, and seemed satisfied with
their work, estimating that her mother should be fully conscious again within the
next twelve hours. That had been nine hours ago, and Andrea was terrified that
each hour past was a clear indication that the doctors had been wrong, that their
modern science and medicine was way too out of its depth, and that they did not even
know it yet.
"Don't worry, girl." A man's voice startled her and pulled her eyes away from her
mother, "Your mama's as beautiful as she is strong." His accent was that of someone from deep Louisiana, which was the first thing that hit you. But it had an after taste to it, like he were an immigrant who spent some years at home before living out the rest of his childhood here stateside, "Thank you." Andrea finally replied, once her eyes had finally had enough of taking in what he was wearing.
He was tall, extremely tall, with a bald head that almost touched the doorframe. He was
lanky too, not quite skinny or thin though, but enough to give his appearance a
long and foreboding element to it, like he could reach you no matter how fast you
ran.
Covering this long body was a mustard coloured wool suit, with a dark
brown shirt underneath a black coloured tie. On his long feet were black formal
pointed shoes, that looked cheap and made of plastic, and shone in the light.
His face was angular, sharp, and well moulded. Sharp cheekbones that looked
fine enough to cut diamonds, and an even sharper chin beneath them. His eyes
were blacker than any other black that she had ever seen, with a gleam to them
that made them twinkle too. His full lips were parted in a smile that had rows of
big and white teeth showing, twinkling in tandem with the large orbs in his head,
"Forgive me, Child. My name needs givin', and give it I shall." He had a singing
tune to his voice that fit well with his accent, "My naaaame's Arruman Nancy, you
may call it a pleasure, an honour, a joy!"
Andrea nodded her head, standing protectively near her mother, "Andrea
Bordeaux, call it whatever you'd like."
Mr Nancy's smile turned into a grin that went ear-to-ear, and Andrea did not
mean that figuratively, "Mmmh. This guard dog might be the best kinda guard
dog! It barks! It bites! But can it fight?"
Andrea was in no mood for any games, "What do you want, Mister?"
He took a step into the room, a walking stick in his right hand; it covered by
fingers with rings attached to a wrist choked by a cheap looking golden watch,
"To check in on your mama, Child."
"Andrea."
"I heard you the first time." He winked, taking several more steps towards them,
quick little scurrying steps that confused Andrea to no end.
"Your mama and I are friends, we go way back. Stop! Take what you're thinkin',
and its still backer than that!" He laughed with himself before frowning at her,
"What? You don't think Mr Nancy's funny, huh?"
Andrea would not have had the patience for this at the best of times, "You'll have
to forgive me, Mr Nancy. But as you can see, laughing is the last thing on my
goddamn mind."
He followed her gaze to her mother and shook his head, "Oh…. Yes, that." He
finally decided to enter for good, this time taking long strides to sit himself down
on the other chair across the room near the bathroom door, "Did your mama
ever tell you 'bout how your family got its last name?"
She looked up at him, no doubt her dark brown eyes surrounded by bags and her
black hair in an absolute mess, "No."
He straightened his long legs out, crossing them at the ankle, "A good tale, a Mr
Nancy certified classic! But steady on, steady on, Andy Baby. Nancy gotta get
himself right." He pulled out something from his pocket, a cigar in his hand,
"Want some?"
Andrea scowled, "No smoking allowed in here."
Mr Nancy exaggerated a shrug, "I know the rules. You take my breakin' 'em for
confusion, but its just because, I. Don't. Give. A Fuck." He laughed to himself and
sat back into his chair, pulling out a long match and striking it on the floor to
ignite it before pulling it up to his cigar. Thankfully, a nurse walked in to check on her mother's drip, giving Andrea a kind smile but never once saying anything to Mr Nancy.
"Uhmm…. I told him he can't smoke in here." Andrea said, trying to get the nurse
to chase him out, but she turned around and looked around the room in
confusion, "What, dear?"
She gestured towards Mr Nancy's spot on the chair, but the woman did not seem
to see anything "Is there something wrong in the bathroom?"
Mr Nancy started to laugh and stuck his tongue out at her, watching the nurse
leave the room after Andrea had to shake her head.
"When Arruman said that thing 'bout being your mama's friend, your dumb,
black ass should've understood what kinda friend."
Andrea put her head in her hands and groaned, "Oh my God no…. why wont this
day just come to an end…."
"Ay!" Mr Nancy clicked his fingers to get her to look at him, "Now now, none of
that. Mr Nancy asked you a question."
She rolled her eyes at him, "I thought you meant one of her friends from work."
Mr Nancy choked on a drag of smoke as he laughed, "Bitch! Do I look like a
lawyer to you?"
Andrea growled, "Call me bitch again, and I'm gonna need one!"
"Bite! Bark!" He snapped his fingers and made a spear appear in his hand,
throwing it so hard that Andrea felt it fly by more than see it, it pinning itself in
the wall right between her left ear and the window frame, "But. Can. She. Fight?"
"That better not cost us." Was all she could say, lest she started crying again.
He nodded his head in agreement, "Damn straight. If I'd been you, and saw how
much that ambulance and this room cost, I'd have fetched me a wheelbarrow and
thrown your mama's body in it and boomed it like the Roadrunner. A bit of
exercise ain't never hurt nobody."
He took a long drag and exhaled a puff of smoke above his head, "Well, 'cept for
the people that it has. But fuck 'em…"
"Tell me the story and then get the fuck out, Arruman."
He clapped his hands together and did a little dance in the chair, "Oh right! Oh
yes! Look at you, focused on what matters, five points to Bordeaux." He then
glanced at her mother and the smile on his face grew, "But ten points to Mr
Nancy. Tell me, littlest Bordeaux, what do you know 'bout Eduoard Jean-
Philippe?"
Andrea sat back into her chair, the exhaustion of the day made sleep tempting,
but her mother should be waking up within the next two-and-a-half hours, and
she wanted to be there to greet her, "Less than nothing, why?"
Mr Nancy shook his head, "Tsk, tsk, tsk. He is your mama's mama's daddy's
daddy's…. I lost track, but he's the start of the line of Bordeaux."
Her eyes closed involuntarily, she would allow them to, but she kept her wits
about herself, "Uh-huh…."
"Now, Mister Jean-Philippe was the fastest runnin' slave this side of the
Mississippi! Damn could that boy gun it when he needed to! But soon enough,
he'd won his freedom too. Clever boy that one was, lil bit of a mouth on him, but
his master, Herri Philippe, loved that light skinneded lil boy…. A lil too much,
some might say.... make of that what you will."
Andrea hated to admit, but his soothing voice was doing enough to put her at
ease, but his words were interesting enough to keep back any idea of falling
asleep, "Eduoard was his son."
"The bastard had himself a lil bastard, conjugal visits to the slave house bore
itself a receipt. It was an open secret so the mistress of the house had to swallow
them insults day in and day out, watchin' 'Mastah' play with and educate lil Ed.
Treatin' him like he was people! Can you believe it? The motherfuckin' audacity. Til one
day, she had had enough."
His form shimmered in the smoke, seeming longer and more terrifying before
the grey cloud dissipated and he looked like his regular, disgustingly dressed self, "Mrs Marie-Jeanne Blois-Philippe was from a proud and minor noble family, old as all sin. They traced their lineage as far back as the French war of religion, accordin' to them. When asked, they'd say just that, since the French War of Religion. Now, they must've been dumb as bricks cause there were like…. A hundred
French wars of religion, but never you mind that." He took another puff, and
through the smoke, he somehow appeared standing next to Andrea. She was
startled and nearly fell out of her seat, "How are you doing that?"
He pressed a long and slender finger against his lips, "Story time, Andrea. So,
what did Mrs Philippe do? Hint hint, if you guess set him up to be lynched, you
get three cookies." Andrea's frown deepened, "But…. You didn't say anything in Latin…"
"Our boy Eduoard, freed yes, was still sent 'round as a messenger boy. Runnin'
even to other towns sometimes. So Mrs Philippe put out word that a runaway
slave of Eduoard's description was 'round the area, then sent him to a plantation
near the town of Bordeaux. He went, like the good lil boy that he was, and learnt
the hard way that there ain't no real freedom if it has to be given."
The gleam and joy in Arruman's eyes were gone now, replaced by a hard and
dark stare that made Andrea uncomfortable to look at. She remembered the man who had stood on the dais, beaten and broken, with an eye that hated everything it saw.
"So…. That thing that happened to Jeremiah Rigs…"
"Uh-huh." Mr Nancy muttered, leaning against the wall with his hands in his
pockets, "In the last moments of his coon-lived life, Eduoard did the only good
thing he'd ever done and made a pact. He'd learned 'bout Christian God and his
benevolent ways from his daddy, but Eduoard's prayers weren't doin' a goddamn
thing to get the noose off. So, in a fit of the sort of rage that some beings gravitate
towards, he turned to his mama's gods…. Made a deal with one of 'em, a trickster
who may have or may not've been on Mrs Philippe's shoulder to begin with…"
Andrea took a moment to piece it all together, and snorted despite herself, "Arruman Nancy... A. Nancy, hah. A little on the nose, don't you think?"
He shrugged, his eyes still having that soul-glaring look to them, "People don't
know what to look for to begin with. Ain't so obvious in a world with monolithic
Gods, Andrea Bordeaux." The Louisianan was beginning to fade from his words,
"I'm here for your mother, Andrea."
She stood up quickly and blocked her mother from him, "Go fuck yourself."
He had a sad smile on his face as he shook his head, "Relax, child. I don't mean I'm
here to take her now. There's no need for it. The Court of Bordeaux was used, and
the price knowingly paid."
"And what was the price?" Andrea's heart began to beat quickly, the sense of
guilt coming back heavier than before, "Tell me, Anansi! What price?!"
"Somnum faciente…." He whispered, and Andrea felt her knees buckle as she
stumbled into her chair, her eyelids becoming overwhelmingly heavy.
Andrea grit her teeth to the point of almost cracking them as she fought back the
need to sleep, "Anansi…."
He sighed, "I used to be stronger than this, you know? Didn't even have to say a
word to get people to sleep."
"Why…. Why?" Andrea's eyes shut, and the darkness was beginning to set in.
"Eduoard the coon, hah! I'm glad I did what I did. Lived his whole life free, eating
nice and having to work a third as hard, meanwhile his own half-brothers and
sisters toiled away in the fields, none of 'em lived past forty-five.... But you get a
better grasp of someone in two ways, Andrea Bordeaux. Either feed them too much, or feed them too little, they'll take it from there and show you who they are. And true to
form the coon died as he lived, selfishly. I offered him vengeance, and in
exchange, he bound all his kin to his soul, his animus. So that any who use it have
their souls bound to it in turn, and in essence, to me. He did it without a second
thought…."
Andrea realised what he meant and forced her eyes open, spittle frothing out her
mouth as she collapsed to the floor, grabbing his ankle, "I-I… I'll…. Kill… you…"
He lightly removed her hand from his ankle and she could feel his smile on her
again, "She barks, she bites…. And yes, she fights."
The darkness was beginning to set in once more as she heard the sound of
Anansi's shoes stamping into the tiled floors, her consciousness going in and out
as she looked at him lean over and whisper into her mother's ear. Andrea
could've sworn she heard someone scream before she went unconscious.
"Andy Baby," she heard her mother's voice tug at her, grabbing hold and trying to
yank her out of the darkness that had drowned her, "Andrea…"
"Wake up." She was pulled out and forced awake, looking up at her mother's pale
visage, a weak smile played out over her face.
"Momma…" she whispered, tears flowing down her cheeks as she wrapped her
arms around the woman who was the sun of her solar system, holding on as tight
as possible without hurting her, "I thought that Anansi was going to take you."
She snorted, "That ole crack head? Nah-uh not a chance, Andy Baby."
Andrea looked up at her mother again, "But he said…. Eduoard's deal…. The
Court of Bordeaux…"
Her mother exhaled, and the act seemed to put even more years on her, "Anansi's
mouth is too damn big for his own good."
"Momma." Andrea said sternly, "No more putting this thing off. Is Anansi taking
you or not?"
Antonina Bordeaux seemed to stare off in place for a moment, once a doting
single-mother and respected attorney, but now? Now she was some magic using
witch sworn to an old West African God, "Yes. But not until after I die."
As morbid as that sounded, Andrea was overjoyed, her hug tightening around
her mother, "Good! We'll just make sure that isn't for a long time. Wait, what do
you mean after you die?"
"You where there, Andrea. Where do you think we went to when I had that man
lynched and burned?"
She looked up at her mother's tired face, her expression blank and impossible to
read, "Inside…. Your soul?"
She nodded her head, "Well, in a manner of speaking, yes baby. We all have souls,
connected to the Source." Her mother's face churned up the effort to smile, "Very
funny, using an essay as an excuse to try and put me in a corner. Clever girl."
And as soon as it appeared, the smile dissipated, "Some become potent enough to
use the energies from the source. Others are only touched by it, enough to maybe
sort of see things beyond comprehension, but never quite enough to completely
understand it. Most of those people go insane and are thrown in mental
hospitals."
Andrea remembered what Rigs had said about her soul, "But… am I touched?"
Her mother shook her head, "Doubt it, Andy Baby. Your blood comes from
powerful magic; it would be a one-in-a-million that you not be potent. Besides,
Anansi wouldn't have bothered talking to you if you were.""
"You know about that?"
Her mother nodded her head, "The man wouldn't shut up about you. We had a
conversation, just to reaffirm Eduoard's deal. Once I die, my soul will go to Court,
with the rest of our line who suffered due to Eduoard's foolishness."
Andrea finally sat up, "Is that where my soul will go?"
She felt her mother's hand weakly play with her hair, "No, Andy Baby. Your soul
will go to the afterlife, where you'll spend eternity in a heaven made just for you.
Only those who use the power must pay the price. I wouldn't have dared to have a child, perfect as you are, if all Bordeaux's were to be forced to attend Anansi's
Court. And the threat of it is why I didn't tell you about magic to begin with."
"What can we do to stop this?" she snapped, angered by her mother's
nonchalance to all of this, "Anansi can't keep getting away with this!"
"The court is almost 275 years old," a voice by the door said, "If your mother or
any of her predecessors had an idea of how to stop it, they most likely would
have by now." Julian Nerva said, his arms folded over his chest. His expression
was absent of any of the kindness or warmth she was used to from him, for it
was only a hard and blank stare that greeted them now, "Was he really all that,
Bordeaux, that you had to resort to using the Court?"
Andrea got up off the hospital bed, glaring towards Mr Nerva, "And where were
you?"
He glanced at her a moment before ignoring her as he entered the room, "Had
you kept on practicing, an ant like Rig's would never have been an obstacle for
the likes of you."
"We've had this conversation a 100 times before, Julian," Her mother seemed too
tired to muster up any hostility on this occasion, "Why bother with a 101?"
Mr Nerva shrugged as he started walking towards her mother, but his path was
interfered with by Andrea's presence, "Where were you, Julian?"
He again ignored her, "Does the child know?"
He caught her attempt at a slap without once looking her way, "Ah, so the child
knows."
"Only that magic is real," Her mother said, "The basics, in that. Now let her go or I will kill you."
"I would not call animus magic 'the basics', but we start where we start, I guess."
Julian finally regarded her, her wrist still in his large and hard hands, "To answer
your question, Ms Bordeaux," he spoke politely, as if Andrea had not just
attempted to slap him, "I was busy with my own problems…. Though calling
them problems would perhaps be an overstatement."
Her mother snorted and rolled her eyes, "Of course. For what could possibly be
considered as an obstacle for the great Julian Nerva."
He let go of Andrea's hand, "Not much, in truth. Why have you called me here,
Antonina?"
Her mother and him shared a look before she turned to look at Andrea, "Andy
Baby, if you co—"
"No!" she snapped, pointing her finger into Julian's chest, "This is his fault!"
His blank expression was broken by the curved eyebrow he raised, "How so?"
"Rigs told me about you, Julian! He said you're even more powerful than he is….
Well, was. You had him running scared both times he came looking for me. Worse
yet, you knew about him, and didn't think to do anything to stop him."
Julian cocked his head to the side, "And how do you figure that?"
She balled her fists and was tempted to try and slap him again, "When we were
walking back to my mother's practice. You referred to him as 'the strange man
with the hood'."
He shrugged, "And?"
"I never told you that he had a hood. You'd have had to have seen him to know
that, Julian."
Julian, for the first time since arriving, smiled. It was cold and never dared to
reach his eyes.
"I had wondered if you'd pick up on that little gaffe."
Andrea was angry at herself for feeling like she was about to cry again, but no
matter what she did, the tears began to spill again, I cant seem to do anything but cry, she thought, as she wiped at her eyes....
"You could've dealt with it, and didn't…. I need to know why…."
He looked at her curiously, almost confused at what she was doing, before he
sighed and the emptiness in his expression returned, "Jeremy Rigs is well
connected, and those connections proved themselves good enough to steal a
couple hours of my time. Rigs is, was, a runt. A resourceful and cunning runt, but
a runt all the same. I had assumed that your mother had him handled, she should
have had him handled."
He glanced towards her mother and she sighed as well, "Yes, yes, Julian. You
were right, I was wrong. I should've kept on practicing, I shouldn't have given it up. Tsk tsk, silly Antonina. Is your ego stroked enough yet?"
He folded his arms and pondered something before shaking his head, "Not quite,
but it's a start."
"You always were an asshole, Julian." Her mother said, "But for once, I'm going to
need you to care for someone else. And I mean really care, just this once."
Julian and her mother shared a long look between the two of them once more,
before Julian sighed and turned towards Andrea. She beat him to it, "Hell no!"
Mr Nerva shrugged, "You heard the girl, Antonina. She put it quite crudely in fact.
It's a hell no."
Her mother beckoned Andrea towards her, "Andy Baby, I'm going to need you to
trust me, okay."
"But Momma! He let this happen! He is just as much to blame for this as Mr Rig or
Anansi or Eduoard!"
Julian raised an eyebrow, "Your mother is to blame just as much as me. When she
was in her prime, her true prime, beings like this…. Mr Rigs, would have been an
ant trying to fend off the killing intent of a boot. Even resorting to her personal
animus would have been a tad much." He looked away from them, an expression
of disgust, "Why, Antonina? Why would you let your skills ebb away when you
were so powerful…?"
Her mother reached out for Andrea, who took her hand almost instantly, "Love
Julian…. Something I hope, for your own sake as much as mine, you are able to
feel some day."
She looked at Andrea with all the care in the world, the sight of which had
her threaten to sob again, "Andy Baby, I need you to listen to me. I am not strong
enough to protect you, not now. I thought that if I could keep you away from all
of this…. Well, it doesn't make a damn of a difference now, huh? I used the Court
of Bordeaux already, at the cost of my own soul. A second time will cost me my
life. And you're too gifted to be anywhere but with the likes of Mr Nerva for
protection. He will take you to Camelot."
It was a slow processing period as Andrea was trying to make sense of what her
mother was saying, especially with her emotions clouding most of her judgment,
"If I stay—"
"There'll be another Jeremiah Rigs." She said, "And I will not hesitate to use the
Court of Bordeaux again, in a heart beat! Because you're worth it, Andrea."
Her body was too empty of tears to spill anymore, but her heart hurt all the
same, and she leaned forward to press her forehead against her mother's, "But
what about you, Momma? I want to protect you just as much."
"Then go," she whispered, "Go and learn magic, fulfil the potential that I left
behind, and come back to protect me."
That sealed it, and Andrea felt her mother kiss her forehead, "You're the greatest
thing to ever happen to me, and I say that as someone who has lived a full life."
Andrea nodded her head, somehow her body had mustered enough tears to be
crying again, and said, "I'll work to earn that, Momma…. I promise."
She felt herself get off the bed and turn to Mr Nerva, who honestly looked….
Bored, by the entire display. His face turned into one that was slightly amused
after she thought about kicking him in the nuts, and even went so far as to shake
his head, "Don't. I don't want to have to tie you up and carry you out of here like
mediocre luggage."
"I want to talk to you, Julian." Her mother said, before Andrea could think of a
witty reply, "Give me that much. The version of me that you still respected,
anyways."
He sighed and nodded his head, "As good as honouring the dead…. Fine, I'll hear
out you out, Ms Bordeaux."
Andrea did not move, but a second after approaching his mother; Mr Nerva
turned around and headed towards the door, "Come then, Andrea. We need to
fetch some of your things before we leave."
She frowned and looked at her mother, who smiled weakly at her, "You're
stubborn, got that from your momma."
Andrea ran up and hugged her mother one last time, "I love you."
"But only half as much as I love you, Andy Baby."
Letting go of her mother was the hardest thing she had ever done in her life, and
she had to turn around to stop herself from looking upon the face that
represented her entire world. Andrea followed her new guardian out the room to find him waiting by the elevators, arriving just as one opened up, "That's lucky."
"Is it?" he muttered, before the two of them entered it. Andrea looked up at Mr
Nerva, his expression blank again, his empty eyes focused down upon her, "You
possess some cunning, good. You will most likely need it, to make up for your
lack of experience and, honestly, unremarkable magical reserves."
Andrea grit her teeth, "I just said goodbye to my mother, for what could be for
good. And the first thing you do is insult me?"
He shrugged, "I meant it as an assessment, my apologies. Because where we're
going, Camelot, is not a place for those possessing of both magical ineptitude and
a lack of cunning. In fact, I'd say it requires the opposite, and a lack of neither."
Andrea raised her eyebrow as the elevator doors dinged, "Camelot? Isn't that
where that one Alexander dude lost his girl to his best friend?"
"Amusing." Julian said, never once even threatening to smile, "No…. well yes, but
it was Arthur, not Alexander, and no, it is not that type of Camelot. It is the name
of the magical school in England."
Andrea stopped dead at the door of the hospital; "There is no ways in hell I'm
leaving my mother to go all the way to England, Julian. I am all she has since….
doesn't America have its own kind of schools?"
He turned away from her, and it was the first time she saw a trace of annoyance
in his demeanour, and probably not going to be the last….
"I am the headmaster of Camelot. It will be a lot easier to get you in, and a lot
easier to look after you." He leaned over to look her in the eyes, "You're welcome
to try the school here, mind you, it would save me the trouble of living up to the
promise I just made to your mother. When you die a painful and excruciating
death, that is."
She knew from the look in his eyes that he was not joking, "It's that bad?"
It was also the first time she had ever heard him chuckle, the real him anyway,
"Our schools do not allow for just anyone to enter, Andrea. We have entrance
exams."
"Oh. That doesn't sound so bad."
"Our entrance exams are magical tests, failure means certain death, a painful
one." He told her bluntly. Never mind….
He turned and headed out the door, pointing towards a random car parked near
the sidewalk and snapping his fingers. In the place of the Ford Ranger that had
once taken up so much space, now sat a chariot with four pairs of horses in front,
the beasts looked transparent and mist like, as if the souls of horses were before
them, rather than the actual things themselves. Holding the reins at the front of
the chariot was a man dressed in a rundown Victorian era suit, with white gloves
filled with holes and dirty pointed black shoes upon his feet.
She had no doubt that his face was as crusty as the rest of him, except that he
didn't have a face, on account of the fact that he lacked a head. On top of his head,
or at least where his head should have been, sat a top hat, the only part of the
attire that did not look like utter trash. The man raised it in greeting to her, and
Andrea hesitantly waved back, "You couldn't have gotten us like…. A Porsche or
Ferrari or some shit?"
"A Porsche or Ferrari cannot fly." Julian said matter-of-factly, opening the
carriage door for her. She ascended the two short steps to enter a carriage that
was a lot more spacious on the inside than the outside ever indicated.
The interior was like cutting into a velvet red cake, with maroon coloured
wallpaper encircling them, and a red shag carpet sat snuggly beneath her feet. On
the two chairs in the middle of the room were velvet pincushions set on them
and an invisible man dressed in a beautiful suit holding up a tray with a tea seat
sat up top it. He bowed respectfully at her as she entered. Julian followed in and
closed the door behind him, taking a seat and waiting patiently as the butler
went about pouring steaming hot water into his cup, "Sit." He offered, well…. It
may have sounded like an order rather, but Andrea was too tired to be defiant.
"At Camelot, you will be enrolled as Andrea Saloum." She raised an eyebrow,
"Salem? Like the witch trial? Why not Bordeaux?" He sighed and shrugged, "If
you wish it to be so, then sure. And you cannot go as a Bordeaux because it
would attract too much attention. I'd prefer it otherwise."
That made her smile, "So, my family is a big deal over there at Camelot, huh?"
"Not really," Julian said before continuing on, "You're sixteen, so most of your
peers in the first year will be around your age. There, you will receive a room for
boarding and three meals a day, in addition to a stipend that will be deposited
into your account every week from me. It will only be 150 pound-sterling's a
week, so do not go around spending it all in one place."
Andrea's jaw nearly fell onto that ground, "Bruh! That's like…. 200 whole
dollars!"
Julian rolled his eyes, "You have yet to set foot upon the grounds of Camelot, and
already you are complaining."
She almost retorted with an insult, but thought better of it, I'm not about to lose
out on 200 bucks over arguing….
"You will wake before 06:30am for breakfast, after which you will attend classes
from 08:00am until 02:30pm in the afternoon,"
"You don't have to say afternoon after the pm, you know."
"After school, you will have a selection of after school activities to do, which will
run from 02:45pm until 05:00pm, after which you will have leisure time until
06:30pm, which will be supper. After supper, you will have study time from
08:00 until 09:00pm. From then onwards will be your opportunity for leisure
time once more, before lights out at 10:30pm. Any questions?"
Andrea pointed at the butler, "Why is he invisible?"Julian closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, "I meant…. he is
invisible, because an actual man would not be able to serve me tea without
spilling once airborne."
Andrea gasped, "Are we airborne now?"
"Yes," Julian looked bored again, "The chariot was a gift, an enchanted one. So we
cannot feel whatever that occurs on the outside of this chariot on the inside."
She frowned and folded her arms, "But I like feeling like I'm in the air when
flying, otherwise what's the point?"
"Then how would he serve me tea, Andrea?" he continued to frown, but she met his
irritation with a shrug, "In a bottle, maybe."
Julian stared at her as if she were the biggest idiot in the world before sighing
once more, "I was under the impression that you were clever. So why are you so
good at playing the fool?"
"And I was under the impression that you were some court clerk who did not
know my mother. What are you to her, anyway?" she asked, a question she had
been wondering for days now. Her mother wouldn't hand her over to just
anyone. Julian stirred his tea before taking a sip, "I was once her lover, and I was
very good at it—"
Andrea screamed and smacked the cup out of his hand.