Page 17 of Reign
The hour went by with nothing but one breath filling my lungs. Blinking, I study the stapled exam, apparently sifted through by my fingers since the pages are dog-eared and fanned through. My hand aches from my prolonged grip on my pencil, and for the first time, I notice the lead is worn down to the nub.
Curious, I go back to my exam, staring at the answers for each equation.
Every question, I wrote the same answer: 2
The number two for a pair of unanswered deaths. Ivy and my mother.
Over and over, scrawled on each page and on the backs, in cursive, then block numbers, until there’s nothing left but faded scribbles as my pencil wore down.
As Dawson comes by to pick up my exam, he frowns, yet says nothing as he tucks it in with the others.
I stare at his back as he continues to gather exams.
Has Headmaster Marron already warned the professors of my disintegrating mental state and imminent departure? Is that why Dawson’s so unaffected?
He’s a Noble, too.
Once finals are collected, the classroom bursts with noise. Voices pile on top of one another, discussion of the strange midnight email fast over-taking any comparisons over the toughest equations.
Chase finds me through the crowd. “With me.”
We don’t create the stir we normally do when Chase hooks my arm and escorts me out. Too much attention remains on the anonymous email.
“Where should we go?” I ask him under my voice as we filter through the students in the hallway.
“Our Vault.”
I almost trip over my feet. “You mean, back to the—?”
“Yeah. I do.”
We veer around a corner and stop in front of a custodian’s closet. After a brief scan of the area, Chase uses his keycard and the lock beeps green.
“What about the rest of your finals?” I ask, genuinely concerned. My grades, I’ve all but given up on and passed over to Marron for the final F, but Chase? He has roots here. Priorities. Loyalties. Rules.
All I get from him is a steady, “It’s fine,” before he shuts us into the black.
I don’t bother to ask more questions, relying on my sense of touch instead. I keep my hold on Chase’s arm as he navigates seamlessly around shelves of cleaning items until we reach a wall.
Another, small light flashes green, followed by a low whine of hinges.
“Of all the places,” I whisper as he pulls me deeper. “I wouldn’t have thought to search the janitor’s storage space for hidden access to a Noble room.”
“This didn’t used to be a supply closet. It was Thorne Briar’s office before renovations and the faculty wing was created, moving the headmaster’s office.”
The mention of the word Headmaster has goosebumps skittering under my skin. “Chase, Headmaster Marron’s not who—”
“Shh. We’re in the walls right now. If we talk loud enough, people can hear us in the hallways.”
Good to know. I hunch forward and keep my hands on his shoulders as we traipse through the darkness.
“Steps ahead.”
I feel around with the tip of my shoe before descending the first step, Chase’s tight, reassuring grip on my hand leading me the rest of the way down.
After what feels like fifty steps, Chase finally begins lighting sconces with his pocket lighter, the dampened stonework of the walls gleaming into focus.
It doesn’t escape me that the Nobles have largely stuck to old traditions and their original rooms, unlike the Virtues. Granted, the Virtues’ original temple was destroyed in a fire, but Sabine allowed it to happen. She shut Emma in and never called 911. She was probably glad to sacrifice the rotting, mildewy eighteenth-century architecture in favor of more modern amenities.