Chapter Eighteen

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“Hey, Savvy,” Nocte said, stopping her roommate just before the blonde left the room. Savvy was going to the library again to study White Spells, which Nocte figured she should be doing too… but honestly? She was too lazy. “If you see Witley, can you tell her that I kinda… want to speak with her?”

“Of course,” Savvy said, smiling, and then left.

Nocte went back to the results of the aptitude test Wrath gave her over the weekend, in which she didn’t have time to look over until now. She tapped her fingers on the desk irritably, not liking what she saw. She already knew about all the stuff the results were talking about, but seeing it white on black wasn’t making it easier.

There was a polite knock at the door and Nocte tossed the results aside with an aggravated sigh. Swivelling her chair to face the door, she decided to make her wait while she ran phrases and sentences through her head until she found the right words. The door did not sound again, which was proper, and she breathed in slowly in preparation.

Nocte could not believe she was seeking her out, but she really had no other choice. She rubbed her temples, feeling a migraine coming on. She felt like her father, calling on an assassin or a disobedient slave.

“Come in,” Nocte said, crossing her legs and intertwining her fingers.

Witley entered and gave a bow. Her mistress had called and she was more than ready to comply. She knew that it was just a matter of time before her lady needed her services. A Witley knew everything.

“No doubt you know why you’re here,” Nocte stated, feeling uncomfortable. She made a perfect imitation of Dire, and Dire had massacred thousands of people, something she didn’t want to copy.

Witley’s silence was answer enough.

“Does the princess think it’s you?” she asked.

“Yes,” Witley replied.

“Does she know the dance?” she enquired, tipping her head to the left.

“Yes,” Witley answered.

Nocte nodded to herself.

“Paine-”

“I do not care about Paine,” Nocte said easily, leaning back. “Paine trails the princess like a dog. He dares not contradict her because she is his royal flush. He will play to her tune, and as long as I have her convinced, he will be convinced.”

Witley agreed, but knew that he would soon grow up. For now, her lady’s perspective held true. In a few years… She dared not guess.

“I really don’t want you to do as I say…” Nocte said indecisively. “But… could you pretend to be Darkhour’s girlfriend until the Dance?”

“I will do as you wish, mistress,” Witley intoned with another respectful bow.

Nocte winced and said, “Please don’t call me that.”

“Not a chance,” Melissa said with a smug smile. “Ciao.”

Nocte sighed after Witley left, flinging her thick hair back. Her bangs were growing much too long for her liking.

#

They made a pretty picture, Nocte mused. She was looking out the window, watching Witley lean closer into Darkhour. Darkhour, in response, snaked his arm around her waist. They were in plain view and no one was surprised to see them together. The End of the Year Dance was within a week. Such open flirting and possessiveness wpi;d be taken as a challenge to the princess and the Paine.

She moved away from the window, feeling everything coming together. A twinge of panic hit her for a second and she wondered why until her eyes landed on her open Technology textbook. She had a project due in three days, and she had yet to start. All the secret meetings, secret shopping and secret conversations were distracting her from what was really important: school.

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⏰ Last updated: Jul 20, 2012 ⏰

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