Page 19 of Rules for Ruin

The girls burst into giggles as they strode away.

Franc curled his lip at their retreating figures. He didn’t like being laughed at, even if that laughter was kindly meant. Effie soothed his offended dignity with an absent scratch.

“Your exploits are legendary among the girls,” Nell said.

“I daresay,” Effie replied dryly. It was those very exploits that had earned her a reputation for chaos.

“Do you remember the time you stole all the sugar from the pantry and replaced it with salt?”

“How could I forget?” Effie had eaten most of the sugar, making herself sick in the process. She’d had to spend two nights in the infirmary.

“Or when you smuggled that aged dog into the dormitories and persuaded the rest of us to help you hide it and care for it?”

“Dear old Max,” Effie murmured. He had ultimately found a good home with Miss Sengupta, one of the Academy’s visiting instructors.

“And what about the duel you fought in the forest with that vile farm boy from the village? Foils at dawn, or some scandalous thing.” Nell chuckled. “You were always creating disorder for poor Miss Corvus to put right. No one else has ever vexed her so.”

“I’m not particularly proud of my behavior then. I’d prefer the girls didn’t know of me at all rather than know me for my worst conduct.”

“They know you as the best and brightest among us.”

Effie found the prospect of that no more reassuring.

She’d spent thirteen years at the Academy. More than a decade, marked by rebellion and catastrophe. Her triumphs at languages, fencing, and self-defense paled in comparison to the cloying sense of alienation that had daily eaten away at her soul. In the end, not even Nell’s friendship had managed to blunt the pain of it. Effie had never felt she belonged here. She’d never felt she belonged anywhere.

“I was neither the best, nor the brightest,” she said. “I was only the first.”

“Yes, but you went to Paris. Your life has been something for them to aspire to.” Nell guided Effie up the stairs, past the student dormitories and onward to the staff rooms.

The third door at the end of the hall had a painted placard hanging on it that proclaimed its occupant: Miss P. Trewlove.

“You have a private room,” Effie said rather unnecessarily.

Nell unlocked the door. She ushered Effie into the dark, quiet chamber. “So might you have had if you’d remained.”

“Have you decided to remain?” Effie asked. “Your five years are nearly up. You might go anywhere.”

Nell shut the door behind them. She lit a glass lamp. The small room was illuminated in a rosy glow, revealing a neat little bed with a quilted coverlet, a dainty writing desk, and a high-legged wardrobe painted a beguiling shade of pink. A round needlepoint cushion was propped in a spoon-back chair in the corner. It was embroidered with the Academy’s unofficial symbol—a black raven with a white-tipped wing.

“Not all of us desire to go away from this place,” she said. “Some of us are committed to the mission of the Academy.”

Effie didn’t believe it for a moment. If Nell had truly decided to stay on permanently, it wasn’t because of any philosophical leanings. It was because of her injuries. As a girl, she’d been self-conscious of them. Fearful of how the world might perceive her outside the safety of the school’s gates.

“How can you know what you desire if you’ve never been anywhere?” Effie asked her. “If you’ve never had any experience of society?”

“Through books,” Nell said. “Through scholarly journals, and the daily papers. I keep abreast of what’s going on in the world. I don’t need to see it for myself to know which way my conscience tends.”

It was a logical enough answer. Inherently plausible. Fundamentally Nell.

Looking at her beautiful friend—so clever and compassionate—a surge of guilt seized Effie by the throat. “This is my doing,” she said. “My weakness has robbed you of your free will.”

Nell flinched. “Don’t be absurd.”

“If I hadn’t been so determined to master my fear, you’d never have been obliged to come after me that day. You’d never have fallen from the roof and—”

“It was my choice,” Nell said. “That’s free will, Effie. Being young. Making reckless decisions. Risking it all for your friends—your family.” She smiled softly. “You’re my sister, you know that. I’d have done anything for you. I still would.”

“And I for you,” Effie said. “Always.”