As Charlotte walked into the banquet hall, for the patrons' Farewell Banquet, she was aware of only one thing — the tight grip James had on her hand, their interlocking fingers a solemn reassurance, a source of comfort for the night ahead. The excitement from the games had not subsided, but only intensified. Her team had been idolised, a certain celebrity now surrounding them. Charlotte, herself, was looked on with wide eyes, full of awe and excitement. Rumours took hold and transformed the game until it barely resembled he truth anymore.
Even Charlotte had lost sight of what had happened, the memories of the game had become only vague images in her mind. Yet now as she entered the hall and a moment of awed silence fell, before applause ensued, she realised just what she had achieved. James squeezed her hand reassuringly as they walked to their seats on the large dais, amongst the most honoured staff.
"Elmhirst is absent," James breathed in her ear as they took their seats and the patrons' attention turned to the food that was being brought in on gilded trays. "I haven't seen him since the game".
Charlotte frowned, glancing at his vacant seat. She realised that she hadn't noticed him either, not since they had won the game. "Bennett's not here either," she muttered, pursing her lips and glancing at the table below the dais, where Bennett had always sat during the banquets.
"Monsieur Desmarais and his son are here though. They're late, but they are here. At least that's a good sign," James nodded as Monsieur Desmarais and Matt strolled into the room, neither looking particularly interested in the festivities. Matt's gaze met Charlotte's and he smiled, his dark eyes glittering in the light from the chandeliers. She nodded gently in response, her cheeks colouring slightly.
"Stop worrying," Charlotte sighed, turning back to James, his green eyes clouded. "Let's just get through this. Most of them will have left by this time tomorrow and then we only have to wait another three days until the rest are gone. Everything will settle when they are gone".
James stared at her doubtfully, before flashing the smile he saved for the patrons. He was trying to conceal his worry, but she could see through his mask, even if nobody else could. Sighing, she slipped her hand into his, linking her fingers with his once more. "It will be okay," he nodded, staring kindly at her, though she wondered if he was not actually trying to convince himself rather than her.
The meal passed in a blur, the patrons becoming more intoxicated as the Forgotten moved amongst them refilling their glasses, their noise increasing. As expected, James used his alteration to clear the tables from the dance floor, reassembling them around its fringes, much to the amusement of the patrons.
"I wonder where Elmhirst is," James wondered, unable to pull his mind from the headmaster's absence. He flicked his hand and Charlotte's chair moved closer to him, closing the small distance between them. It was a minimal difference, one that nobody else would notice, but it still made Charlotte blush. "I mean it's not like him to miss a moment to impress the patrons".
"You need to stop worrying about it — we don't know about half of the things that go on in this school, or half the things that go through his head," she muttered.
"That's what worries me," James said darkly, casting his gaze across the marble dance floor. A band had been set up at the far end of the room, armed with violins and cellos. The music they played was so gentle, dreamlike even. Charlotte sighed, trying not to allow James' worry to become her own. For once she actually felt almost contented with her life on Kingston, as if things were finally going in her favour — even if it was only for the next six months. She shook her head, banishing the thoughts of their departure.
"Look, the others are here," she muttered, lifting her right hand and pointing to the door, hoping to distract him. The rest of the seniors had been invited to the banquet, once the meal was over. Invited was a loose word. They had been ordered to attend, and as Ian and Iseult wandered in, looking pretty impressed with the surroundings of the banquet hall, Ian seemed particularly uncomfortable in his suit. Iseult on the other hand was a vision of beauty, in a pale blue lace dress, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. She grinned and waved excitedly at Charlotte when she caught sight of her. Ethan strolled behind her, looking far more dapper than Ian in his suit, saying something to her, making her grin broadly, before taking her hand and leading her to the dancefloor.
YOU ARE READING
Altered
Science Fiction'They wore uniform grey, their expression hard and distant, their muscles taut with expectation, as if at any moment they were ready to lead an assault, to carry out orders, to kill, to die. And yet they were. Kingston had trained these children to...
