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The other man leads me upstairs and through a series of corridors. I’ll probably keep getting lost for the first few days. Everything looks the same somehow – unreal, sterile, although I’m sure interior decorators took great care in selecting these ancient objects.
“Here you are,” the man says, opening a door and letting me enter.
The room is huge – bigger than my room in the school residence. There’s a large closet, a four-poster bed, a desk, a number of shelves, and a small lounge suite. Everything looks very elegant and well maintained. I feel like an intruder and wonder if I’ll ever feel at home here. But at least I’m not being banished to the broom cupboard, as I feared I might.
“Your things will be brought up momentarily, and then you can get set up. The most important documents are on the desk.” He nods and smiles stiffly, then leaves me alone.
I briefly consider flopping down on the bed and processing the shock of the move. But as my things are about to be brought up, I decide to go to the desk and see what’s in the large envelope lying on it. It has a wax seal. Who does that these days?
I break the seal and take out several sheets of paper. I wasn’t expecting a friendly welcome message, but a few words would have been nice before they lay all this on me.
In my hands is a list of rules that I have to follow. I’m supposed to sign at the bottom. It includes things like appearing punctually for all activities that have been arranged for me. I have to participate in these regularly and without exception. Absence is not permitted, and in the case of illness, one of the family doctors must confirm my incapacity.
Meal times are 6 a.m. and 6 p.m. I must be present for all meals and appear punctually. Visits from men are not permitted. Girl friends are only to be invited in exceptional cases and after consultation. Outsiders – that is, people not part of the key carrying world – may not enter the house.
I take a deep breath. Basically, this means I’ll be completely cut off from the outside world. Neither Ayden nor Mom, or even Alex or Chrissy are allowed to visit me here. But it gets worse when I read my daily schedule. It’s rigidly planned out as if I’ve just joined the military:
4 a.m. Get up
4:30 a.m. Training
6 a.m. Breakfast
7:30 a.m. – 3 p.m. School
3:45 p.m. Return to Fabrici house
4 p.m. Training
6 p.m. Dinner
7 p.m. Training
10 p.m. Bedtime
Nighttime training sessions as needed.
Weekends:
School will be replaced by training sessions.
I read through the schedule twice and keep stopping on the nighttime training sessions. They seem to want to deprive me of sleep. I frantically rack my brains for ways I might be able to escape this schedule and preserve my freedom. But I have no time to think about that because there’s a knock at my door, and the three men from earlier enter with my boxes of belongings. I spend the next while unpacking.
It feels weird to be putting away my things in these cupboards and shelves. I didn’t want to move here, but I had no choice. I smirk – this feeling’s not unfamiliar to me. Last time, I was reluctant to move into the school residence, but Ayden and the principal left me no choice. Back then, I never dreamed that I would come to feel so at home there.
I glance around the room and then at Yoru, who’s sitting beside me looking a little helpless. He doesn’t seem to like it either. I bend down and say with a sigh, “We’ll make the best of this situation and not let them grind us down. No matter how difficult they try to make our lives with their nighttime training sessions and rules.”
Another knock at the door. This time it’s a young woman. Her expression looks pinched, and I’m startled when I hear her high-pitched, cutting voice.
“I’m supposed to remind you that there are certain rules in this house that you’re expected to observe. One of them is appearing punctually at meal times. You’re now ten minutes late. I was sent to take you down.”
I raise my eyebrows in surprise and don’t know what astonishes me more – the servant’s rude tone or the fact that nobody told me that I’m expected to join them for meals starting today. I bite back my comment and follow the woman as she strides along the corridors.
On the way, my phone beeps with a message. It’s probably Ayden. But I guess it’s a bad idea to read it now and incur more anger.
Chapter 21
The woman knocks on a set of large double doors, then opens them and invites me to enter. The scene before me reminds me of period films featuring aristocratic families. This room could easily have belonged to a former royal family.
