“Or the director wanted to kill Mella,” Poe said.
“But why?” Raven asked. “Why would anyone want to kill either of them?”
In conspiratorial tones, Poe said, “Who knows what drama is going on behind the scenes?”
“Come, come, come, girls and boys,” Director Drizwold said, clapping her hands as she walked into the room. “What’s going on in here? Why is no one working? Where’s your teacher?”
“Girls and boys,” Jessima whispered. “Now there’s a reason why someone might want to get rid of her. Why does she insist on calling us that?”
“So sorry,” Cecilia said, hurrying into the room with a basket of scrolls gliding behind her. “Those guardians wanted to speak with me, and they went on a bit too long. I’ll take over from here. Everyone—” she raised her voice “—please return to your own desks. I have the results of your last test here.”
Director Drizwold dodged beneath an escaped feather boa sailing across the classroom, glared at the nearest student, and left. Collective relief rippled around the room, and faint chatter started up again as Cecilia handed out the scrolls. Friendly but firm, and a remarkably talented clothes caster, Cecilia was Raven’s favorite teacher. The favorite teacher of most students, in fact. Raven knew she wasn’t the only one who wished Cecilia took them for more than three lessons a week.
After handing out the tests, Cecilia did the rounds. She assisted students with complex spells, helped with last-minute ideas, or gave feedback on work already done. Raven was desperate to hear Cecilia’s thoughts on her new snake dress idea, but the bell that signaled the end of classes for the day tinkled before Cecilia reached her row.
“If I haven’t seen you yet,” Cecilia called out as students began packing up, “and you’d like my feedback, please wait behind.”
Raven was one of four who remained in the classroom. While she waited for her turn, she went through her spell books and wrote down the incantations she’d need to incorporate in order for the metal snake to slither in a winding pattern up her model’s back. She hadn’t fully decided what to do with the rest of the dress, but she searched for spells that made use of lavagem light, mainly because most other students wouldn’t use those spells.
When Cecilia had finished speaking to the other three students, she stood in front of Raven’s desk with her lips turned down. “I’m so sorry your demo went wrong yesterday. That dress would have made a spectacular final piece for your collection. I just assumed it would go through.”
“Me too,” Raven said. “I’m so disappointed. I love that dress more than anything else I’ve made this year.”
Cecilia leaned her hip against the desk. “Honestly, I think you could still make it work with just a few minor adjustments, but if the director decided not to approve it, then that’s it. Best to move on with something else.”
“I know. So I’ve got this snake idea now. A snake slithering across a forest floor of leaves.” Raven turned her notebook around to face Cecilia. “I’m going to do the snake like this on the back, winding back and forth as it slithers upward. And then perhaps cover the entirety of the rest of the dress in leaves. Like that autumn dress I did once, remember? But I’ll have the leaves coming up over one shoulder, and have the dress reach the floor, and I won’t use an autumn palette, of course. I’ll use these colors here—” she grabbed a few swatches from her desk and pulled them closer “—to fit in with the rest of my collection.”
Cecilia smiled and nodded slowly. “I have to admit, I was a little worried when I heard Director Drizwold hadn’t approved the sprite-wing dress, but this could be just as magnificent.” She chuckled. “You never cease to amaze me, Raven. You could be the next Mella Cascata, you know. You should be the next Mella Cascata, whether you win that internship or not.”
Raven flushed with pleasure at the compliment. “Thank you.” Her voice lowered to a whisper as she added, “But you probably shouldn’t let any of her many worshippers hear that you’re hoping someone will replace her. Besides, you’re more likely to be the next Mella Cascata. You know far more about this industry than I do, and I would kill to have your kind of skill with clothes casting spells. And you kinda look like her. You’re the perfect package.”
Surprise crossed Cecilia’s face. “You think I look like her?”
“Well, just a little bit,” Raven corrected as she realized Cecilia might not consider that a compliment. “Why did you choose teaching anyway? I’m sure you could have made it on your own, or at one of the big houses.”
A sad smile crossed Cecilia’s face before she looked down and began neatening the contents of Raven’s desk, pushing aside and folding up the fabric she wouldn’t be using and moving all the jars of embellishments into neat rows. “I didn’t have the right opportunities at the right time, and my family suggested the teaching route would be appropriate for me. I’ve enjoyed it. Enjoyed discovering new talent like yours. Anyway—” she tucked her hands behind her back “—here’s my feedback on the snake idea.”
Raven grabbed her sketch and got ready to add notes to it. Cecilia didn’t have too many things to say, so she was done in a few minutes. “Thanks,” Raven said as she packed her things away into her bag, a deep green one that matched the green in the checkered pattern of her pants. “I’ll get to work on making this one as soon as possible.”
“Yes, you haven’t got much time left. Try not to get too distracted by anything else this week.”
“Hmm. Easier said than done when your parents expect you to attend most of the events they attend.” She pulled her bag onto her shoulder. “Will you be at the Harlington Home fundraiser tonight? I heard you mention it to someone earlier.”
“Oh, no, no.” Cecilia shook her head. “I’d love to, but my, uh, husband … doesn’t care for such things.” The way she ground out the word ‘husband’ was odd, but Raven wasn’t about to ask Cecilia if there were issues going on in her marriage. That definitely wouldn’t be appropriate. “Well, I need to get going,” she added, picking up the amber she’d left on Raven’s desk.
“Oh, me too.” It had been a while since classes ended, and Raven suddenly remembered that Flint would be waiting for her outside. Along with feeling bad knowing how long he must have been standing out there, she felt a spark of anticipation. It was fun getting to interact with him more than just once a week on a Thursday night. She’d never admit it to her mother, but this bodyguard idea might actually be a good one.
Chapter Seven
“So there was a dead body right here in your bedroom?” Daisy wrapped her satin robe tightly around herself, wide eyes traveling the room, as if the ghost of the intruder woman might be hiding somewhere watching her.
“I’d prefer it if you didn’t remind me of that,” Raven said. She hadn’t been allowed into her room when she and her parents had returned late last night. It was considered a crime scene, apparently. Her mother had made a gigantic fuss, insisted the guardians work through the night gathering whatever evidence they needed, then kicked them out this morning. By the time Raven left for college, the maids had already begun cleaning, and when she returned late this afternoon, she’d found her bedroom in perfect order. No trace of the previous night’s fight was anywhere to be seen. Still, as Daisy pointed out, it was hard not to think about the fact that someone had died in here. Raven had a feeling it wouldn’t be so easy to fall asleep tonight.
Pushing the thought of dead bodies aside, she walked into her closet and fetched the blue dress for Daisy and the black lace one she’d chosen for herself. A mermaid style, with long sleeves and a low back, it was elegant, understated, and far less fun than anything she designed at college. A public evening event, her mother had told her years ago, was not an appropriate occasion for frivolous outfits. Raven was expected to be refined, poised—boring. Good thing she’d had plenty of practice at that over the years.
“I think it’s a little tight on me,” Daisy said. Raven turned to find Daisy clutching the dress around her u
pper body and trying to do the back up. She pulled her shoulders up and sucked her stomach in. “My mom must have been right when she said I was getting fat.”
“Your mom needs a slap if she’s saying things like that to you.”
Daisy started laughing. “I’d love to see that. You slapping my mom.”
“I’m sorry, I know it’s rude of me, but seriously?” Raven crossed the room and picked up her stylus from her desk. “She said you’re getting fat? What a load of goblin crap. You’re a slightly different shape than I am, that’s all. And this is a fitted dress, so the shape is important. Here, I’ll make the adjustments while it’s on you. It’ll be quick.” She ran her stylus across the fabric here and there, expanding some parts and shrinking others. “There.” She stepped back when she was done. “More comfortable?”
“Well, I can breathe, so that’s an improvement.”
“That’s a bonus, as they like to say at Delph,” Raven said with a laugh.
After doing each other’s hair—fingers weaving quick enchantments to produce elegant updos—they added the finishing jewelry and makeup touches to their outfits. Lastly, Raven stepped into her latest high-heeled creation.
“Wow, those are amazing,” Daisy said as she pulled her own shoes on.
“Aren’t they just?” Pride swelled in Raven’s chest as she looked down at her jewel-encrusted shoes. She’d spent an entire weekend on them recently, arranging the different colored precious stones into various shapes, and they’d turned out even better than she’d imagined. “I’m probably pushing the limits of what my mother considers acceptable evening footwear—too much twinkling color—but I think people will love them.”
Daisy nodded. “I think you’re right.”
“Ready to go?”
“Almost.” Daisy turned and examined her appearance in the floor-length mirror standing in one corner. “I need a touch more makeup, perhaps.”
As Daisy played with makeup spells, Raven walked to her door. She opened it, taking in a quick breath when she saw a figure standing several feet away. She relaxed as she recognized Flint. “Good evening, Miss Rosewood,” he said, which must mean other members of her household were close enough to overhear him. His eyes skimmed down her dress before looking quickly—politely—away. A hint of a smile grew on his lips, though, which in turn made Raven smile. She liked it when people admired her creations.
“Good evening, Flint,” she said in equally formal tones before lowering her voice and adding, “Sorry about the gasp thing. I still need to get used to opening my door and finding someone waiting for me.” And she’d have to get used to seeing him dressed in something other than the usual uniform her parents’ guards wore. As her personal protector, he was supposed to blend in with the crowd, not stand out as a target for someone to aim at before taking Raven out. Or something like that. She hadn’t listened to everything her father rambled on about this morning.
“No, I apologize,” Flint said, his eyes still averted. “I didn’t mean to startle you. In fact, I think that’s the opposite of what a personal bodyguard is supposed to do.”
“I’m sorry about all this. It must really suck for you. Having to attend boring parties you don’t care about. It’s more like a punishment than a promotion.” She laughed and added, “I probably should have asked for the guard I like least instead of asking for you.”
His smile stretched a little wider. “Nothing to be sorry about. I can assure you I don’t see this as a punishment.”
“I’m glad.” Raven looked over her shoulder. “Daisy, come on. What’s taking so long?”
“Stupid lipstick spell went wrong,” Daisy called back to her.
Raven shook her head and returned her gaze to Flint. “You look nice in formal wear.” His suit jacket, slightly longer than an everyday jacket, with buttons all the way up to the high-necked collar, hinted at a more traditional design Raven didn’t see too often these days. It was a classic look that Flint pulled off remarkably well.
His gaze turned back to her for the first time since she’d opened the door. “You also look, um … very nice.”
“Okay, okay, I’m ready.” Daisy rushed through the doorway and almost ran into Raven. “Oh, hi,” she said to Flint before turning back to Raven. “Um, are we going now?”
“Yes.” Raven slipped her arm through her friend’s and headed for the stairs, looking over the railing down to the entrance hall to see if her parents were ready yet.
“He really is following you everywhere,” Daisy whispered with a giggle.
“Shh.” Raven threw a glance over her shoulder, but Flint was looking down at the entrance hall as he walked several feet behind them. “Not everywhere. And it’s not as though I mind. It’s like having a friend travel around with me.”
“A friend who has to pretend he isn’t your friend whenever your parents happen to be nearby.”
“Yes, well, it’s just easier that way.”
In the carriage, Raven and Daisy sat on one side with Flint, while Zalea and Kenrick sat opposite them. Kenrick issued instructions to Flint from the moment the carriage took off, which caused Raven to feel more and more uncomfortable. “Maintain a respectable distance, but make sure to keep Raven in sight at all times. Try to remain inconspicuous. Don’t dance with anyone. And don’t speak to people. You’re not there to be distracted.”
“Dad,” Raven interrupted as her discomfort level reached new heights. “I’m sure Flint knows all of this already.”
Her father managed to remain quiet the rest of the way there, and other than the occasional whisper between Raven and Daisy, the carriage’s occupants sat in uncomfortable silence. Fortunately, the journey wasn’t long, and the carriage soon pulled up outside Mount Thistlewood Country Club. This evening’s fundraiser was being held in support of Harlington Home for Orphaned Fae, a home started decades ago by one of Zalea’s friends. The fundraiser was an annual event, and Raven and her parents always attended.
The high-ceilinged room was already packed when they arrived, filled with glamorous, wealthy and influential fae. Dressed in nothing but the latest and best, they moved between long tables piled high with delicacies, gossiping, laughing, and bidding on the artwork displayed around the edge of the room.
For the first time, Raven wondered how all this obscene extravagance appeared to someone like Flint. Someone who lived in an ordinary home hidden by a glamour. Someone who wasn’t wearing a designer suit and who didn’t play around with disgustingly large amounts of money on a regular basis. She looked at every gleaming surface, every gold-plated piece of cutlery, and every rare item of food through his eyes, knowing that all the money spent on this event could have gone toward the worthy cause everyone here claimed to support instead of enabling a bunch of rich fae to party it up for the night. In fact, if she’d been Flint, she might have stormed out at the sight of all this wasted wealth. But Flint maintained his composure perfectly, and if there was anything about this event that bothered him, he didn’t show it.
It bothered Raven, though, and not for the first time. And it pricked at her conscience that she was once again part of the lavish, high-society scenery instead of … Instead of what? she wondered. Instead of refusing to come? Instead of telling the organizers of these events that they should give their money straight to the cause they were fundraising for? But she knew it didn’t work that way. Most of the guests here wouldn’t bother supporting anything if there wasn’t a party involved. This would probably be an extremely worthwhile event in the end, despite the unnecessary display of opulence. Still, Raven felt more uncomfortable than she’d ever felt at a party before.
“Oh, look over there,” Daisy said, motioning to the left with a nod of her head. “Isn’t that what’s-his-name? Lilyanna’s cousin? He’s got real nerve attending another public event after the way he behaved at your eighteenth a few weeks ago. I’m surprised his parents let him out of the house.”
Raven shrugged. “Maybe it wasn’t his fault he ate all those
moonflower petals. I mean, maybe he didn’t know the effect they would have.”
“Hah,” Daisy snorted. “I’ll bet he knew exactly what he was doing.”
“Well, let’s hope he behaves himself tonight,” Raven said, surveying the nearest table of food. She didn’t particularly feel like eating anything, but she didn’t feel like engaging in conversation with anyone either. She looked over her shoulder, her eyes searching the crowd until they landed on Flint. He was hovering near the door they’d come in through.
“Oh no,” Daisy whispered. “There he is.”
Raven knew without having to ask—without having to turn back and look, though that’s exactly what she did—who Daisy was referring to. “Orson,” she muttered. “Now there’s someone who shouldn’t have been let out of the house.”
“I’m, uh …” Daisy cleared her throat. “I’m going to go say hi to my sister. I just noticed her over there.”
“Daisy,” Raven said, but Daisy was already walking away, weaving through the crowd. She hoped Daisy really had just noticed her sister, and that she wasn’t acting strangely all of a sudden because of Orson.
Since she’d taken the time to dress up for this event, she may as well show off her latest creation. She picked up a glass of something bubbly, then walked around the room, making sure her shoes were visible beneath the swishing edge of her black dress. She politely greeted anyone who looked her way, and thanked those who commented on her shoes. A few of her mother’s friends inquired about her collection for the final show, and two girls from Delphinium College stopped her to rehash every detail of Friday night’s explosion.
“Oh, Raven, there you are.” Zalea grabbed Raven’s arm just as she was attempting to extricate herself from the never-ending discussion with the two Delph girls. “Look who it is. Orson was just telling me how he thought you were the prettiest girl in the room at the Lavisons’ union ceremony last year. You didn’t tell me the two of you were well acquainted already.”
Raven (A Creepy Hollow Story Book 2) Page 5