ekstasis

x

Although I can't be sure, I think that Christine knew why I was here the moment she opened her door.

She gestured me toward the chair at her desk, but it's not exactly like I want to stay here long, so instead I lean up against the wall as she bustles around the room. It's already spotless by any student's standards—I think that this is more of a nervous tic than anything else.

"Did Alexei send you?" she asks, sitting down cross-legged on her bed. She looks prim as ever in her spotless uniform, with her hair tied up in a pale blue ribbon, but her ordinarily measured demeanor has vanished, replaced by a shy, twitchy energy. When she smiles at me, it feels more like a flinch.

"No," I say, picking at my nail. I don't feel any less jumpy than her; it took me all week to work up the nerve for this. "Just me."

She gives me a small nod, apparently mollified by this fact. It makes sense, I guess. She's known Alexei for years; his rejection must sting far more than mine.

"Out with it, then."

I hesitate. "I'm just... going to say this bluntly. I want to try reading at the next ceremony."

A brief flash of anger crosses her face as she clenches her jaw, brows furrowing slightly, but it only lasts a heartbeat before it's gone. "And, what, you want my blessing?"

The contempt in her voice made it clear that I'm not going to get it, but God knows I don't need our relationship to become even more hostile than it already is.

"I would appreciate it if you would give it to me," I say. "But really, I just wanted to talk things through before the ceremony tonight. Make sure you're feeling alright."

She watches me impassively for a moment, her gaze piercing right through me, and then turns away. "Take it if you want it," she mutters. "I knew I was on borrowed time from the beginning. But don't act all high and mighty about the fact that you're ousting me."

"It's just this one week," I protest, feeling a twinge of guilt. I know it's bull as well as she does: she's not good at her job, and has no more of a right to it than I do. If tonight goes well—and despite Christine's feelings, I hope that it does—it's not hard to imagine this becoming a more regular occurrence.

"Maybe," she says, giving me a long, appraising look. "Maybe you don't have it either. Or maybe you do. But either way, I know you're not an idiot, Sophie, so don't lie to me. Once I'm out, they have no reason to take me back."

I sigh, biting my lip. I knew this wasn't going to be easy, but after the past few weeks, I hadn't expected to feel bad for her. It isn't like she's responsible for this situation—she's just become caught up in it, like me.

But the fact of the matter is that something is holding me back. If I want to get to the root of my nightmares, to make sense of myself and this place, that has to change.

And maybe that thing is Christine.

"You could still come to ceremonies, even if you weren't the High Priestess anymore," I say eventually, attempting to compromise.

"Why would I?" Her lip curls at the thought.

"It's not just about the title," I say, spreading my hands in a placating gesture. "There's still so much you can learn from the experience—"

It's like a switch has flipped. Her eyebrows curl into an expression of outright disdain that looks nothing short of terrifying on her.

"You think that's what this is about? A title?"

"Well, no—" I start, trying to backtrack, but it's too late. She's already standing up, opening the door.

"The position is yours. Now get the hell out of my room."