RULING CLASS

by Huss, JA

  “I’m sorry.” I laugh at Isabella. “Did you just say… sister-wife?”

  “I just found out this morning. I mean, I knew. I had an idea, at least. We girls talk, don’t we?” She looks at Sophie and Elexa, and they both do some combination of a shrug and a nod. “We all know what we’re getting into. And normally, you would as well. But you’ve been sheltered for reasons no one is really sure about. I have to admit, I really thought I was going to get stuck with Mona, so you’re a total step up and I feel so much better about it.”

  “Wait.” My head is like… spinning. “We’re both marrying Cooper?”

  “No.” Isabella laughs. “That’s illegal. I’m going to marry him. You’re going to be our Maiden.”

  I have a vision of The Handmaid’s Tale. Isabella lying down in the middle of a large canopy bed, me between her legs, my own spreadeagle and Cooper coming at me with a hard cock.

  I laugh unexpectedly.

  Cooper promised me he wasn’t going to marry her. So I just need to shut my mouth and play along. Because this whole scenario could go two ways.

  One. We’re all lying. All of us. And everything these girls are telling me is part of Dante’s plan. And if that’s the case, I don’t need to worry about this because none of it is going to matter in the end.

  Two. Dante’s plan has fallen apart and no one is actually playing that angle anymore. And if this is the case, then I really need to shut the fuck up, because I’m the only one in this room who is still on board. And there might be cameras in here.

  It takes a lot of self-control not to check all the corners for cameras.

  I finally find my voice. “Your Maiden, Isabella? What does that mean, exactly?”

  “You fuck him.” She shrugs. “You live with us. You are ours. But you’re not legally tied to us in any way.”

  “OK. So I’m his concubine.”

  “I like that word,” Sophie says. “Sounds very… I don’t know. Imperial court. ‘Mistress’ is so…” She wrinkles her nose. “Well, one step up from ‘call girl,’ am I right?”

  “Sure, Sophie.” I smile at her. “We could do worse than ‘concubine.’”

  “Well, you’re taking this well,” Elexa says.

  “Cooper loves me, Elexa. Not Isabella.”

  “Hey.” Isabella points at me. “Don’t be a bitch, Cadee. He and I have been partners for more than three years now. He loves me in his own way.”

  “But she’s right,” Sophie quips. “Why should she worry about you? You’re into girls.”

  Isabella slaps Sophie across the face so hard, the smack echoes throughout the room for three whole seconds. And then there is a bright pink hand mark on her cheek.

  “Jesus Christ, Isabelle!” I stand up in my tub, then carefully get out and walk over to Sophie and put my arm around her as she starts to cry.

  Isabella seethes. “You better watch your mouth, Sophie Bettington. I’m not joking. Spread any more rumors about me, and I will make your life miserable. Now get my towel and dry me off.” Sophie pushes me away and scurries over to the towels. But Isabella is looking at Elexa now. “Do you have a problem with my punishments, Elexa?”

  Isabella, in this moment, is the personification of the word ‘regal.’ She was born to be the Queen. Because she stands before us with her shoulders straight and her head tipped up high. Naked, like the rest of us. Yet utterly different from us at the same time.

  And now Sophie’s weak personality makes sense.

  She was born to be the Maiden.

  Second best. Just like me.

  So that’s what the word ‘legacy’ means. It’s got nothing to do with my parents going to school at High Court. It’s… breeding.

  Just like Dane said. You were bred for me.

  Except he’s dead now, so I was given to Cooper.

  And Elexa’s personality makes sense too.

  She’s one of them. Not one of us.

  Elexa shrugs. “Hey, you’re the Cygnet, right? Maybe one day I will have a problem with you slapping my Maiden. When she’s really mine. But today, fuck it.”

  “Good,” Isabella says, smiling. Then Sophie is there with a towel, gently rubbing it up and down Isabella’s body to dry her off.

  “Get back in the tub,” Elexa commands.

  And I suddenly wonder if she’s allowed to talk to me that way. I mean, I get it. I’m living on the top floor of the dorm due to a technicality. But I’m not the Fugling anymore. So I snap at her. “Don’t talk to me like that, you wench.”

  Isabella laughs. Sophie frowns and looks around nervously.

  Elexa grits her teeth and clenches her fists. “You’re nobody, Cadee. They can put you up in that tower and dress you all pretty to make you think that you’re special, but you’re not. And if I were you, I’d enjoy this year to the fullest. Because when next year comes around, there will be a new Queen living in your room.”

  “That’s not even true. The Chairman said I could stay there until I graduate.”

  “You’re not going to graduate!” Elexa actually guffaws. “You’re going home with Isabella and Cooper at the end of the year to push out babies for them.”

  “That’s enough!” Isabella’s command is loud and, well, commanding. So Elexa shuts up. “Wash her hair and get her ready. Then bring her into the dressing room. Quickly. Or you’ll never see the inside of that tomb.”

  “Whatever,” Elexa mumbles under her breath.

  I sink down in to the bath water as Elexa washes and conditions my hair, deliberately pouring water over my eyes when she needs to rinse me out.

  I’m so giving her one star on that little ‘how did we do?’ card.

  Sophie finishes drying Isabella off, then wraps a towel around her, but not herself. Then leads her through another door so that Elexa and I are alone.

  I wait for Elexa to start something. But she doesn’t. Just does her job and barks curt commands at me like “Stand” and “Step out” and “Stay still.”

  She dries me off with the soft towel, but her motions are rough. Not anything like the way Sophie gently patted down Isabella. Then she wraps a towel around me and leads me into the next room.

  Isabella is sitting in a chair and her hair is being dried by a stylist. Sophie is gone. Elexa prompts me to sit in the chair next to her, and then she leaves and another stylist enters and begins drying my hair too.

  Once the drying is done and the styling begins, Isabella begins to talk again. About stupid things, though. She picks a nail color and then four women appear—we get two each to work on our mani-pedis—and then she muses about what the gardens might look like tonight.

  Homecoming was always my favorite time of year because it happens in the central gardens on the college side of High Court and my father was in charge of the decorations. Every year I helped him string fairy lights. So it was a big deal for me too. But I haven’t looked at the homecoming gardens since my father died. Went out of my way to avoid it, actually.

  So I have mixed feelings about this night.

  I am Cooper’s date for the first part of the night on campus. But then, when we go to the tomb, I’m just the stand-in. The mistress. The concubine. And I have to walk behind them.

  Then, once we get over there, God only knows what will happen.

  I’m expecting the worst. But it’s temporary. Cooper isn’t going through with the wedding. He already told me. And Isabella and Elexa can conjure up fantasies about what next year might look like all they want, but it’s not going to come true.

  We’re out of here.

  They can stay, if they want. But not us.

  Once our hair, make-up, and nails are done those ladies leave and Sophie and Elexa return—this time wearing those thin white robes again, instead of being naked.

  They are each carrying garment bags which get hung on the back of the two doors on either side of the room. And I admit, when those zippers go down and they lift the gowns out, I am enthralled with what I will be wearing tonight.


  It is legit fit for a queen. The only disappointing thing is that Isabella and I have to wear the same dress. “What’s up with the twinsie shit?” I ask her.

  “You’re an extension of me, Cadee. God, how many times do I have to say this to you? Why do you think I brought you that little school-girl outfit when you moved in to the dorms? You. Are an extension. Of me. You really need to get used to that idea. Because that’s how you will be treated for all the official Fang and Feather events. In fact, you won’t be at most of the events.”

  “What?”

  “Only the ones meant especially for Maidens. Like tonight. This is your night.” She smiles at me. Like she’s giving me a gift. “You will make a promise to us.” Then she adds, “Cooper and I,” just in case I’m slow on the uptake.

  Anyway. Back to the dress.

  It’s a pale, muted light blue satin with gold lace appliqué embellishments that form a floral pattern. It’s a full-length ball gown with a court train and the ten wave pleats are starched to perfection. They fan out along the top of the floor so I appear to be floating when I walk. The bodice is tight—ten bones sucking me in—and it starts just above my hips so my curves are accentuated. It laces up in the back and it has a strapless neckline. So the whole thing is princess sexy.

  Not the way Valentina was dressed that first real day of summer rush. She was princess slutty.

  This is… something else. “I love it,” I breathe, not really talking to anyone.

  “Me too.” Isabella looks herself over in the mirror.

  We could be twins, that’s how much we look alike in this moment. Our long hair is piled messily on top of our heads in that just-fucked fashion that is so trendy right now. And it’s nearly the same color to start with. Dark blonde with lighter streaks running through it. She has green eyes and I have brown ones, but the dress, the make-up, the hair—it’s all the same. So it’s very hard to tell us apart right now.

  Isabella’s eyes meet mine in the huge wall-sized mirror. “I wasn’t trying to be a bitch earlier. This is hard for me too, ya know. Cooper was all mine until you came along last summer.”

  “Was he?”

  She huffs. “Well, now I’m sorry I wasn’t more of a bitch. You don’t need to rub it in, Cadee.”

  “I’m just saying. He and I were a thing long before he bought you during your summer rush, Isabella. I didn’t steal him from you.”

  “I know that. And I’m trying to be gracious.”

  I snort.

  “Because,” she continues, “you’re part of my life now. Whether I want you in it or not.”

  “OK.”

  She turns to me and takes both of my hands in hers. “So let’s try to be friends.”

  “We are friends, Isabella.”

  “Good. I mean, I will be the mother to your children so I really want this to work.”

  “What?” I can’t stop the laugh.

  “Yes. I’m certainly not having children. My father thinks Cooper and I will, but—” She shakes her head. “No. I’m not doing it. I’m so glad Dane is dead and you’re not going to him.”

  I almost throw up at the thought.

  “It wouldn’t have been a good match.”

  “No shit, Isabella. He was a rapist.”

  “I know. That’s what I meant.”

  “You’re acting weird.”

  “How so?”

  “You’re all… into this. And last summer you were a hot, drunk mess just thinking about this year.”

  She shrugs. “I’m happy with you. And I do love Cooper in my own way. So.” She shrugs again. “I’ve come to terms with my situation.”

  Is she for real right now? Or is this an act just in case people are watching us?

  I can’t tell.

  Nothing makes sense anymore. And it seems like every time I get used to a big change and settle in—like with buying the inn and getting on board with Dante’s plan—something even bigger comes along. A building named in honor of my parents. A glass room at the top. And a King across a bridge that connects us. And now this. I’m going to be a sister-wife. And apparently, I will be having Cooper’s children and Isabella will be raising them.

  I want to laugh. It’s so fucking ridiculous.

  But it’s actually happening.

  I think.

  Maybe I should just stop thinking?

  I mean, who cares if everyone thinks it’s happening? It’s not.

  Cooper promised me.

  We’re getting out.

  When we leave the spa, I realize we’re in the actual town of Monrovia. It’s about ten miles from the High Court campus. It’s really more of a village with cute coffee houses and a few luxe shops. And, of course, the spa, which is so exclusive it takes up nearly fifty acres, has a gate and a guardhouse out front, and requires membership to actually get on the grounds.

  I guess I’m a member now.

  This actually excites me a little. Because I’ve driven past this spa hundreds of times all growing up. Always fantasizing what it would be like on the inside. To be one of those people who have access to a place like this.

  And now, I’m here. In a limo. Dressed up like a queen. And yeah, I have a twin sitting next to me, but she’s pouring me a glass of champagne as I muse about all this.

  She hands me a sparkling flute of golden liquid and holds her glass up. “Cheers, Cadee. We’re going to have a fabulous relationship.”

  I clink her glass and begin to sip as the limo makes its way along the winding, tree-lined road towards High Court.

  Did my parents want this for me?

  Or would they be appalled if they saw me now?

  I wish I knew.

  But if they were High Court alumni, and they raised me on the campus, surely there was a reason? A plan for that? Right?

  I have to believe this. Because even though I know this is all fake, that there is something nefarious, and probably even dangerous, going on behind the scenes… I like it.

  I like belonging.

  And I even like Isabella. I meant it when I said we were friends. She was a bitch today, but Sophie did bring up her sexual preferences. And it’s very clear that Isabella is either denying that part of herself, or simply wants to keep it private. And that’s none of Sophie’s business. Or anyone’s business, for that matter.

  It’s Isabella’s life and we should just butt out of it.

  “We are going to have a fabulous relationship, Isabella. We make a good team.”

  She smiles into her glass as she takes another sip of champagne.

  But we’re quiet for the rest of the ride back to school, looking out the window. It’s not quite dark yet, but dusk is approaching fast. And by the time we arrive at the guest parking lot near the Alumni Inn, the full moon is rising over the lake in the distance.

  There is a carriage with four white horses waiting to deliver us to Cooper.

  And now I really do feel like a princess.

  There are two footmen standing next to the carriage and they help us in. Then we begin to roll forward. Slowly. The clip-clop of hooves is a calming rhythm that lulls me into a sense of peace and acceptance as I look out the window and try to fit this fantasy into my former reality.

  It’s like I’m living two different lives.

  The one before when I was something of a secret in the woods. And this one. It feels like a new beginning. In fact, I feel like I’ve had a lot of new beginnings lately.

  It’s nice. Very special. But I would trade it all to get my old life back with my parents. I did fantasize about going to High Court. Lots of times. But I would’ve been satisfied at Monrovia Community College. I spend several minutes imagining that Cadee. Wearing jeans to boring classrooms. Hanging out in the underfunded student center. Grabbing coffee with other kids my age who had no money and who thought college was a risk, but decided to go anyway.

  I would’ve met some other boy. One who didn’t live in a lake mansion or come with a trust fund. And I would’ve struggled. A lot,
probably. I would’ve moved out of the Alumni Inn and maybe shared an apartment with a few other students. I would’ve saved up for a car, and a nice TV, and I would’ve spent more time thinking about my parents.

  It bothers me that I don’t cry over them at night.

  Really bothers me.

  But I try not to think about it.

  The carriage winds its way through the Prep campus. Around the gardens, which are lit up in honor of homecoming, but not decorated elaborately, like the ones on the college side will be.

  There are tons of people on campus tonight. There’s an alumni party at the inn, and the kids, of course. They all stop to look at us and crane their necks to see who is inside.

  Isabella and I are mostly hidden, so they begin to follow the carriage, walking slowly behind us. We go into the woods on one of the bridle paths and it’s only then that I realize we’re being delivered to the west gate.

  “Holy fucking shit,” Isabella whispers. “Look at him.”

  I lean over to follow her pointing finger to find Cooper.

  He’s dressed up in a formal service uniform, something that looks a little bit military with a healthy dose of private school. Navy blue pants and cropped jacket of the same color. There are gold embellishments. Stripes on the edge of his sleeves. Epaulettes on his shoulders and the High Court crest on his left breast. Both his shirt and his bow tie are white and a sword hangs on his hip.

  And he looks—

  “Oh, my God,” Isabella whispers. “I want to eat him up, he looks so delicious.”

  I shoot her a look of “what the fuck’ because he’s mine, bitch! But she’s not paying any attention to me.

  The carriage stops and when I look out the back window, there is a large crowd behind us now. At least a hundred people.

  Then the footman opens the door and helps us out, and when I see Cooper straight on, backlit with the full brilliance of the central gardens, I actually start to feel like a queen.

  All I need is the tiara.

  Isabella takes my hand, and even though I think this is weird, I don’t care. Because Cooper’s eyes are on me. And he looks like he wants to bend me over and fuck me hard.

  But then his eyes dart to Isabella and he smiles. First at her, then back at me.