"Courtney is a commoner?! What?!" Blaire gasps, face moulding into a scandal. How was she able to afford Silas' request then…?
"Mhm, and you remember the girl who stopped the Crown Prince and the Head Boy from fighting? President Malory, yes, she's fourth year's lottery girl." Harriet explains, as casually as talking about the sunny skies.
"No way! I thought she was a President or something! She had everyone wrapped around her finger!!"
"Student Council President," Harriet clarifies.
"Woah…" Blaire intertwines her fingers with Harriet's, "I need a moment." Malory did not feel like a commoner at all! She was so graceful and authoritative…could I ever be like that…? Blaire shakes her head, who is she kidding? I should just lay low and graduate so that I can get a good job in a Tier One Town. She nods to herself as they walk by the rose gardens.
"What about second year's lottery girl?" Blaire asks.
"I've got no clue. Iyla did not tell me about her. She seems a taboo topic to me." Harriet replies.
That doesn't seem suspicious at all…
"Have there never been any men selected from the lottery?"
"No, I believe, the lottery segment only works to help underprivileged women make it big with their luck. Hence the Diadem Points."
Huh…they put it as if they're helping thousands every year! What a scam!
"You know, senior Malory got into Charmity because of her overwhelming Diadem Points! Her name outnumbered any other girl's in the history of Charmity's lottery sessions. I watched her selection on my television, they announced that fact!"
She seemed like she deserved every point she earned.
"Did you watch the live streams, stuck to your tele for an entire weekend, like my sister?" Blaire reminisces.
"Yes!" Harriet nods, brightening up, "I've always wanted to study at Charmity but I was only allowed to join after the Crown Prince did. My family wants me to marry up but I'm just grateful to be here." Harriet smiles, closing her eyes to breathe in the fresh rose scented air. "It's a beautiful place…"
Debateable and very subjective, Blaire wanted to say but who was she to ruin Harriet's dreams of her perfect place? She understands why she became friends with Harriet, she reminded her of Annalise.
They were back in their designated classroom for Social Studies. Blaire got to know that the seating system was assigned on a Last Name basis, hence why Harriet and her were so far apart. Hauntingly enough, the guava juice carton made it to class and was proudly displayed on the table of one of the middle row girls. The professor droned something about social hierarchies and how to never question them, Blaire wouldn't know. She spent her time exploiting the arsenal of colours at hand and covered two pages of a brand-new diary with strong strokes moulded into architectural art.
As soon as the bell rang, Blaire shot up and curtsied until the Professor walked out. Then, she all but jumped down the staircase and ran up to Harriet's side, excitedly asking about what sports they would be allowed to play.
Unfortunately, instead of changing into loose shorts and baggy shirts which would let fresh air flow through her body as she sweated on the sunny field – Blaire is stuck inside, seated on an elegantly carved wooden chair, mimicking Harriet's slant-leg posture, with a horrendously losing chess game in front.
"This is detestable!" Blaire gasps, eyeing the lush green fields outside as first year boys play soccer. Their exhilarated shouts and wide-mouthed smiles only squeeze Blaire's heart further. "They're having so much fun!" she sobs, attempting to hide her face in her palms but failing, "I cannot look at it anymore!"
"You should be looking here in the first place," Harriet chastises, "This is the seventh game I'm wining in the past fifteen minutes. You're doing wonders for my ego."
"At least one of us is having fun," Blaire sobs.
"Class, you may enjoy your first day by playing against your friends but remember that from tomorrow, you shall be competing against your classmates and each win or loss would reflect as your Tower Points!" the Professor announces, strolling with a frown as she witnesses one bad chess play after another.
Blaire winces, "My what?!"
"Tower points…" Harriet whispers before moving her Queen to pull a checkmate, "Victory!"
Blaire claps for the blonde while she calls a maid to reset the game board. Blaire uncomfortably looks away from the maid. The concept of being served while she was fully capable of meeting her own needs was still very medieval to her. Blaire did not want to ease into it at any cost.
"Everyone's assigned a tower at Charmity so that all our grades, achievements and problematic actions reflect as Tower Points. For example, You and I are in Miranda Tower, so, every game that I win against, say, someone from Delphine or Strauss or the Loraine Towers would decrease five points from their score and add 5 points to our Tower. Think of them as Diadem Points! But instead of raising you individually, all your Towermates would be winning perks and privileges!" Harriet chirps, excitedly, "Perks usually include luxury vacations, royal castle tours, money—"
"Money!" Blaire's face shines, "How does that work?"
"Depends on how much you've contributed, you can choose to convert your points to gold coins—"
Blaire begins to sniffle, eyes glimmering with unshed tears. "Oh—oh my, oh my goodness," she forces a sharp intake of breath, "Oh my, I love Charmity Academy!" she exclaims, "This place is heaven on Earth!" Blaire attempts to raise her hands in celebration but the ribbons do not allow so.
Harriet frowns, "But then you cannot go on the trips…barely anyone chooses money."
"That's because they do not need it! Good, more for me!" Blaire sings. "I must prepare now that I've got the incentive, teach me how chess works!" Blaire requests leaning forward and batting her lashes in Harriet's face.
"Indeed, indeed." Harriet laughs and the rest of the period is spent on Blaire being dumbfounded by the very made-up schematics of chess.
On the way to the cafeteria, Blaire spends her time ineloquently ranting about the illogical concept of horses moving two and a half spaces while the elephants got to move straight and the king was practically a showpiece during all of it.
"Like what do you mean my pawn can become the literal queen?! Like hello? Excuse me? Are we playing royal politics on the board?! I mean, we technically are but! That still makes no sense! Who made up the rules? What if I wanna change them? I'll make horses move one space forward and two spaces back on alternative turns. Take that chess masters!"
Harriet absorbs it all like a sponge, pleasantly walking with her hands wrapped around Blaire's arm. The crescent dining building is bustling as students and teachers alike buzz around circle tables while their attendants serve them food. It is to no one's surprise that Blaire's entrance marks a floating halt in those conversations.
By now, first period talk should have a front-page slot for tomorrow's newspaper. The extent of exaggeration present in the narrative would be the only shock value they could pull.
Opinions could float around like facts if it was scandalous enough to please the masses. Blaire was made of aware of it first hand as soon as Harriet lets go.
"I will see you," Harriet curtsies, avoiding to look into hundreds of prying eyes.
"No, wait! Won't you eat with me?" Blaire asks, surprised by the sudden detachment.
"I would but weren't you summoned by the Crown Prince?"
Oh! I forgot about that!
Blaire nods and bids Harriet goodbye. Her tablet is pressed against her chest and she flicks her fingernails with her thumbnail as she navigates the now very silent and intrusive Cafeteria. The attendants robotically continue serving food but their movements bear a ghostly presence to them which only serves to deepen the eerie in the air.
There's only one empty table and it stands on an elevated podium in the very front of the hall. Its gold legs and crystal top glimmer under the candlelit chandelier above. To make matters more obvious, a very red carpet leads up the podium stairs and runs under the dining area.
I have to go there?! THERE?! JUST LIKE THAT?! ALL BY MYSELF?! They will throw forks and spoons at me!
Nobody is eating even though their plates are brimming with food. Must be cause they're aiming their knives at me!
Blaire clenches her jaw and looks around. There are eyes everywhere. Staring at her. Expecting her to make one wrong move before they could bury her six feet under. Amidst that, an unfortunately familiar gaze catches her eye.
It is Dorian. Smirking at her. Again. Why is he like that?! Beside him is Malory, the only person who has their hands folded against their chest, head bent and eyes closed. Why can't everyone be unbothered like her?
Dorian is about to raise his hand and invite Blaire but someone wraps an arm around her shoulders and greets her.
"Why're you planted here?"
If the obvious gasping crowd and scandalised whispers were not hints enough, the unanimous rising from their chairs and curtsying surely was.
"Be at ease," Silas says as he walks ahead, dragging Blaire along by her neck.
He might as well paint target on my face and shove me in the archery ground!
"Smile," Silas mutters through gritted teeth. Blaire's peripherals catch him grinning ear to ear as he walks pasting the staring masses.
"What the hell are we doing?" Blaire questions through gritted teeth, mimicking his smile.
"Being civil, obviously." He grits the reply as they reach the foot of the podium. "Ladies first," he gestures, holding out a hand for Blaire to take and climb up two stairs.
Mortification hits her. Slaps her face and assaults her brain. If she doesn't do anything – this would only get worse from here!