Hestia Hew had been buffeted from coven to coven for as long as she could remember. Now, at age 24, she had lost almost all hope for receiving a magical education. Her last attempt had been at a school in New Haven, only to find out their esteemed dean had left to plant a fellowship in California. She wouldn’t have minded staying in Connecticut—the new dean was young, handsome, and close to her age—but it hadn’t taken long for her father to get into conflict with the Selwyn family, who just about owned this area. So off to California they went.
Los Angeles was,
Draven Hew declared, an irredeemable cesspit. All show, no substance, where the
denizens prided themselves on wearing expensive loungewear in public as some
form of fashion statement. There was nothing of the old ways here, he lamented,
only balderdash and chicanery. Worst of all these pretenders was a man named
Luciano Mattutino, whose chic 24-hour café and bookstore, Alba, was the talk of
the town. Alba was known for its extensive selection on the occult and, in
Draven’s mind, that was part of the problem. Their ways were not meant to be
known by outsiders.
But for Hestia,
it was an adventure, full of possibilities. She felt there was a real chance
for a new beginning here. Los Angeles was so thoroughly populated, who was
going to remember her father long enough to hold his transgressions against
her?
Because of how
much they’d been forced to move around, Hestia’s magical education had been
spotty at best. Her father kept her under his thumb; she wasn’t even allowed to
check out books from the library without his approval, and his approval was
scant. He had never taught her any skills she might use to fend for herself.
She didn’t even know how to cook! She had no friends, except for her younger
brother, Amos, heir to the Hew estate. Naturally, being sent abroad to a
boarding school, away from her father’s scandal but also far from his
influence, had been out of the question.
Though Hestia
was an adult, Draven insisted on being present when she was registered for
school. He walked her through the gate and imposing double doors of Noctis Academy.
A well-dressed man, in tailored robes of black lined with dark red, stood from
the edge of a large fountain and greeted them.
“Welcome. We
have been expecting you. I am Father Tenebroso, Headmaster of Noctis Academy
and leader of We Tenebrous.”
Hestia was gazing
at the statue in the centre of the
fountain and barely took in a word her
new headmaster said. A finely carved serpent coiled round a tree that looked so
real, so lifelike, Hestia half-expected an apple to drop from it.
“Odd name for a
coven, We Tenebrous,” Draven remarked.
“It is much more
than a mere coven, I can assure you. Perhaps you would like to peruse some of
our literature while Miss Hew tours the campus,” Father Tenebroso suggested.
“I would prefer
to tour the grounds with my daughter,” Draven demurred.
“Ah,” said
Father Tenebroso. “And will you be attending classes with her as well, or have
you already completed your education?”
That got Hestia’s
attention. She paled as a muscle went in her father’s jaw. No-one spoke to
Draven Hew that way if they expected to live!
“We are going.
Good day to you.” Draven turned to sweep out.
“You may leave,
if you wish,” said Father Tenebroso with a courteous bow, “but Miss Hew will
miss out on the finest education the United States has to offer. Surely no
parent would deprive his child—”
“Do you have
children, Mr. Tenebroso?” Draven demanded, turning back and glaring at the
headmaster.
“There are
hundreds of students under my care.”
“That is not
what I asked you. Have you personally sired any children?”
The lift of
Father Tenebroso’s eyebrows said he didn’t think it was any of Draven’s
concern. But he answered, “My wife is expecting twins. And before you utter
some grandstanding claim about how I should not presume to question your
parenting, please allow me to remind you that your daughter’s educational
record would preclude me from considering allowing her a spot at my school if I
was not already well aware that 𝘺𝘰𝘶 are the reason she has never completed a term. Hestia is past
twenty. She should have finished her education and begun a career by now,
perhaps a family.”
“Her brother and
I are her family,” Draven snarled.
Father Tenebroso
ignored him and turned to Hestia. “What do you wish to do?” he asked. At her startled
expression, he gave a sad little half-smile and continued. “You’re an adult,
Miss Hew. If you wish to stay and complete your education—”
“I’ll not pay
for it,” Draven interjected.
Father Tenebroso
closed his eyes, pursed his lips, and took a deep breath. When he opened his
eyes, they locked onto Hestia’s, not unkindly. “What do you wish to do?” he
asked again.
No-one had ever
asked her that and meant it. But Hestia knew exactly what she wanted. She
wanted out of her father’s house. She wanted her own life. She wanted a real education
and friends and to stop feeling like she was ten steps behind everyone else her
age!
“I wish to
learn,” she said shyly. She had to stop herself from looking away, steeling
herself to keep meeting the headmaster’s gaze.
Father Tenebroso
nodded, a gleam of pride and satisfaction in his rich brown eyes. “I shall have
our administrator see to your scholarship, then. Mr. Hew, I believe you can see
yourself out?”
“If not,”
growled a rough female voice, “I’ll be happy to show him the door.” A tall,
muscular woman with tanned skin and wavy red hair glared menacingly at Draven,
who scoffed and went out, dragging the dregs of his dignity behind him.
// 𝘖𝘣𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺, 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵
𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦
𝘧𝘶𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳.
Comments
Post a Comment