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“There are few things that happen on this island and on the school grounds that I am not aware of,Governor.”
It was his turn to purse his lips in displeasure at her use of the appellation. Magdalene was aware—Candace made sure to keep her up to speed, at times even against her will—his second campaign for governorship was faltering. She also knew he was a conceited man who did not like to lose, hence his current position in the polls had to be particularly upsetting to him. She was not sorry to press on that wound.
Her own pulsated hard enough to make her want to touch it, but the Vacheron, the cold metal like a shackle on her wrist, kept her hand at her side. She’d give him nothing.
Alden stood, clearly unable to stay still, and took a step and then another, his long, lanky legs bringing him closer to her, the desk standing like a sentinel between them, a line of demarcation.
“I know you, Mrs. Nox.” His voice abraded her chest further. He said nothing else for a moment, like he was waiting for her to ask what he was referring to. Except she was well aware of what Stanton Alden meant. And she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her react in any way. He may have been very intimidating to the child, but grownup Magdalene knew better.
Her eyes searched his face, and when they reached their watery gray counterparts, something flashed in Magdalene’s mind, something just out of reach. The eyes were both so very familiar, yet disturbingly foreign.
“You weren’t wondering?” He coughed and covered his mouth with his bony hand. It shook slightly, and she observed him will it to stop.
“No, Governor. I wasn’t wondering.” Her restraint clearly bothered him. His shoulders tensed, he turned away from her, and proceeded to walk towards the window farthest from her desk. After a while, he cursed softly under his breath.
“Will you stop this, for heaven’s sake?”
Magdalene looked on, graceful enough not to acknowledge in any way that her mission of unnerving him was thoroughly accomplished. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs, relaxed now that she had her opponent at her mercy.
“And what would your heaven ever do for me, Governor? It has been punishing me for ages. You think because a pious man such as yourself invokes it, it will suddenly change its mind about a sinner like myself?”
Grace be damned, she couldn’t resist flashing a self-satisfied smile in his direction as she spoke, and he turned back to her in something akin to righteous indignation, only to reconsider after a few sputters.
“Blasphemy aside—”
“Oh Governor, I am all about blasphemy. Always have been. But then you knew that, didn’t you?”
He looked away again, his hollowed cheeks looking like distressed paper, thin and fragile, not at all like the man who had once had all the power to rule the state and her world. Magdalene’s heart remained entirely unbothered. Next to her, Willoughby stretched and turned on his back, paws in the air, insouciance itself. It gave her joy, how attuned they were after such a short time.
“Be that as it may, Magdalene. That is not why I hired you.”
He might’ve been very good at poker, but calling her‘Magdalene’ was his tell. At least she had gotten him to drop all pretenses. And to confess to what she had suspected all along. Stanton Alden was the one who had thrown her out of Dragons, and he was the one who’d brought her back.
She bit her lip. You couldn’t really make this up, unless this was some sort of sick twist of fate, deities having the time of their life drawing all sorts of geometrical figures about their life. Full circle, indeed.
“You hired me to destroy Dragons,Alden. Let’s not pretend otherwise.”
He coughed again, the sound raw, and Magdalene narrowed her eyes at him, only to have his arthritic fingers dismiss her concern.
“Never mind that. Never mind pretenses. I kept an eye on you, watched you rise, become who you are. And I knew you wanted this—”
“Look, I have no problem with wanting things. There are things I have coveted all my life. With all the practice I’ve had, I am very good at it.” She swallowed around the lump in her throat. Yes, there were a lot of things she desired.
Dragons, Sam, peace, home.
The realization settled around her like a shroud, and she moved her shoulder, allowing it to envelop her fully. It felt warm and safe. And right.
“You gave me Dragons, knowing full well what that meant to me. But it’s a poisonous gift, coming from you.”
He grimaced then. Magdalene was certain it was meant to be a smile. Instead it was a sad twitch of thin lips on a narrow face.
“I took Dragons away from you once, Magdalene. I can take it away from you again. I’d rather you didn’t make me.”
It was her turn to regale him with a smile of her own, just as sad as his. Threats didn’t sway her. Honestly, this man should have done better research. Or hired someone else.
“Alden, my contract is ironclad. I made sure it was. If the objectives outlined in that piece of paper aren’t met, I am out.”
“Then meet those objectives! Do something about the damn school. Something final. Close it. Certainly it shouldn’t be this hard!” His voice boomed loud, waking Willoughby who hissed and sat back on his haunches, ears up and alert, her not-so-little defender.
