Chapter Eighteen
The bed I slept in was so comfortable, I wondered why I had to wake up. Then the realization dawned to me that it was school time, and so I slithered my way out of the bed, and dropped my face against the floor with a soft thunk noise. I grumbled softly under my breath, crawling my path to the water basin over the drawer, pulling my body and then dropping my face straight into the water with a gurgle.
I pulled my head out of the water basin before I ended up drowning, and rubbed my eyes a bit, yawning softly. I quite calmly began to dress up, ensuring everything was exactly as it should be had servants done the job. By the time the servant actually came in, and found me dressed, his eyes widened in disbelief.
"Y-Your grace," he said in a half whimper, "I apologize for being late-"
"If anyone asks," I grumbled, "You dressed me up," I said with a snort. "Now...is breakfast ready?"
"Your grace?" the man murmured in disbelief. "You aren't... angry?"
"No," I said with a sigh. It was a bit sad that dressing up myself had become a dream of mine rather than not. "Now show me the way to the breakfast table? I need something solid in my stomach before I decide to actually start thinking properly."
"As you wish, your grace." The man bowed, and then showed me the way out of the room and through the hallways that the night before I distinctively remembered trudging through. He brought me to my seat at the breakfast table, and as I sat down, I realized I was the first to arrive, barring the teachers.
I smiled and made a cheerful wave in their direction, to which Osmond replicated with an equally cheerful wave back.
Dumbledore expy, confirmed. Now, who was Snape out of all of them? The Wind professor seemed the most likely candidate, and he did have a name too, but I couldn't remember it. Shortly after, the third years arrived, faster to dress up than the second or the first years. In the end, I gave a grin to Wardes when I saw him enter, and he returned it, but we didn't exchange words.
"Henry...why?" Anthoine asked quite poignantly as he took a seat in front of me, the black rings around his eyes showcasing his lack of sleep. "Did I do something to offend you?"
"Anthoine...you asked," I replied. "And then you kept asking."
"Last night me was a horrible person," Anthoine mumbled, rubbing his eyelids. "He really was horrible," Anthoine whined. "Henry, please, go back in time and beat up old me."
I giggled, and shook my head. "Now, now, let bygones be bygones, Anthoine." I smiled as André de Brienne sat down by my side once more, much to Anthoine's apparent displeasure. "Oh, André, how fares your crusade against slacking off in this fine morning?"
André raised both eyebrows, "I...well. It fares well, Henry," he mumbled, furrowing his brows the next second. "I thought..."
"What?" I grinned. "That you'd be spared my friendship? Tut-tut, André," I smiled, "Don't you know? Friendship is magic, and I like to make friends."
Anthoine snorted, "Friendship...is magic? Damn Henry, I should use it...your eyes are magical, my fair lady-no, no, our friendship, my dear lady, is magical, but perhaps if we bring it closer we might see..."
"The stars fly high in the sky under these brilliant moons of ours, that yet pale to the beauty of your eyes," I continued gently, a hand touching my chest and the other slightly extended. "How does that sound, Anthoine?"
"Admit it, you are corresponding with Gascon!" Anthoine shot out with a smirk on his lips, "He sunk his claws in you too, didn't he? My friend, Henry, come back!"
The hazel-haired girl by Anthoine's side giggled lightly, a hand covering her mouth.
I centered my eyes on her, a smile on my face, "Oh? Are we laughing at my expenses, young miss?" and as I said that, the girl's eyes widened and she paled. I kept my smile on. "Now, now, don't be afraid," I continued with a charming grin. "Name's Henry, the one by your side is Anthoine, and the one by my side is André...what is your name, fair miss?"
"H-Henriette," she whispered demurely, "De...Joyeuse."
"Ah," I said with a nod, "Quite a nice name," I said with another nod, "Come on, don't be afraid. I promise I don't bite, and Anthoine's fainting spells are just part of his unusual charm."
"The unusual one here is you, Henry," André de Brienne said. The servants began to serve the food even as I simply shrugged André's words off.
"Josephine-isn't Valliere the most charming..." I shuddered as Camille spoke in her hushed whispers to her friend of sorts. Why, Du Tremelle? Why don't you just come close and talk to me? So that I may shatter your crush and grant myself respite? Well, not really crush, as much as politely make it clear that I will not have anything to do with you unless I am forced, and even then, I will need to have my mother use her Heavy Wind at least thrice.
Josephine de Martinique was Camille's friend, a strangely normal girl who perhaps really was childhood friends with Camille, but simply mostly content in nodding at everything Camille said. She wasn't under the Du Tremelle house, nor were her parents vassals of the Du Tremelle. Maybe there was some good in Camille's personality if she managed to hold on to a friend, or perhaps it was Josephine who was trying to suckle up to the barrel-on-legs.
As it turned out, the first class of the day was with Miss Chevreuse, the Red Clay. I took a seat in the last row, tried to sink and hide most of my body behind the student in front of me, and then activated my stealth field of absolute non-existence.
"Good morning," Chevreuse said with a chipper tone, her wand already out. "Now, how many of you have been taught the basic cantrips of the Founder? Lighting a candle, turning it off, levitating-"
Cantrips weren't elementally-coded, though one might think the opposite. Levitation wasn't Flight, and Dot-level spells weren't cantrips. One could turn on a candle with a Cantrip, or burn the wax off a candle with a Dot-Level fire spell. Cantrips didn't require speaking usually to manage their effects. You just needed to think really hard about it. You could close doors, set a table, due prestidigitation tricks of minor entity-stuff like that.
Miss Chevreuse lifted her wand, and a piece of chalk began to scribble on the chalkboard behind her. "Now, how about we all write our names with the chalk?" she asked next, opening a box to bring out more than half a dozen of chalk pieces. "One at the time, please come down here and use your magic to grab a piece of chalk, and scribble your name on the chalkboard with it-"
It was fine spell control, since it was obvious that we'd be taught how to lift objects by our private tutors. Lifting an object and then moving it to do something was-and of course, nobody wanted to go first.
I stood up from my chair and began to slowly walk my way down. This felt like being back in University, being the only one with the galls to reach for the professor and properly do the exercise scribbled on the board. With my wand out, I gestured at one of the chalks and slowly felt the drain in my Willpower reserves as I lifted the piece of chalk up with a wobbling tremor to it.
Then, I made it fly straight for the chalkboard, inclined it lightly and began to scribble away at my name.
Finally, I put the chalkboard back in the box.
"Very well done, Mister Valliere," Chevreuse said with a warm smile. "Just like your sister."
I smiled warmly back, "Unlike her, though, I am more easygoing, my fair professor," I made a tiny bow, and then lifted my wand once more, erasing the chalk from the board before returning to my seat.
"Very well," Chevreuse said with a small bout of chuckles. "Next one?"
"Is there someone in this place you don't intend to charm?" Anthoine whispered by my side as I took my seat. "Are you sure you're not a Gramont?"
I smiled back. "Then, Anthoine, show me your abilities."
Anthoine swallowed, and then nervously looked at the rest of the classroom, even as André de Brienne took the cue to go next. Once the boy was done, Anthoine stood up, and with fire in his eyes, brought out a rose from within his breast pocket. I simply stared as he made his way down to go next, as if resolutely marching to his death.
He flicked his...rose wand...and the chalk flew up, changing color mid-flight into sparkling glittering gold, before scribbling down in golden letters his name with a flourish and a delicate calligraphy.
My mouth was hanging open as Anthoine returned to his seat.
"Was that satisfactory, Valliere?" Anthoine asked with a smirk.
"The Gramont family has a cantrip spell to write their name in flashy golden letters?" I mumbled in disbelief, receiving a nod in reply.
"Indeed, for it would be most heretic if the magnificently holy family of the Gramont were unable to write their name properly at all times, even under duress."
I snorted.
He chuckled.
We laughed.
We both got verbally reprimanded because the rest of our classroom wasn't done yet, and we had to stay quiet.
