Page 73 of Ruthless Chaos

The three of us find our seats while catching up in light conversation.

Nya regales us with a tale from her recent flight—she flies into town almost every day—while Tara shares some juicy gossip about someone in one of her classes. Between the two of them, I don’t have to talk much to keep the conversation going.

We’ve been seated for around fifteen minutes when a man takes the stage.

He’s dressed in clothes from the same era—black tailcoat, tight fitting pantaloons and knee-high boots with a top hat to complete the look—but seems to be in his mid-fifties. He introduces himself as Dr. Gabriel Martin, the Master of Ceremonies, and asks us to stand for the entrance of our “esteemed guests.”

I have no idea what any of that means, but I do as I’m told.

No one is standing outside the tent anymore.

The seating area is nearly filled. We’re seated closer to the front than the back. The hushed whispers within the crowd cease, everyone seemingly in expectation.

“Where are the guests?” I whisper to Tara.

I’m met with a glare from the girl standing in front of me.

She looks familiar, even though half her face is covered by a birdcage veil. I’ve probably seen her around Hemlock House.

Tara puts a finger to her lips and motions for me to look to the left of the stage.

When I do, my breath catches.

There is a queue of people walking towards the stage, each dressed more lavishly than the last in heavily embroidered, royal-looking garments.

I recognize a few of the faces as they take the stage.

There’s Cassidy and Liz, along with the other girls who took part in my humiliation on my first night here, Vance, the soccer player, and even Liam. I didn’t know he was Kingmaker, much less on the Council.

When the last person takes the stage, my heart stutters.

It’s Alexander, but I almost don’t recognize him.

He’s dressed like a king from a period piece, complete with a huge golden crown inlaid with jewels that sits crookedly on his head. His coat resembles a royal mantle, made from dark-colored silk and velvet, and fringed with gold. If it weren’t for the hush in the room, I would have a hard time taking his look seriously.

The silence in the room feels like reverence.

The throne Alexander takes is the largest compared to all the others, and everyone on stage takes their seat after he does. When they’re seated, I can see that they are separated by Houses, with the leader of each House Council taking the larger throne.

Dr. Martin instructs us to sit soon after.

He welcomes us to the Council Nomination Ceremony and opens the ritual with a tale I’ve never heard in its entirety before—the origin of Saint Frederic University. Even though it’s no secret that everyone in this room has wicked origins, he doesn’t acknowledge it in his speech.

Instead, he zeroes in on the desire of the University's founders to create a ‘safe space,’ that helps students focus on learning above all else. The more he talks, the more I realize he’s probably part of the school’s Executive Body.

His words are so carefully chosen.

“Since the inauguration of this campus, this ceremony has marked the beginning of the new school year. It is here you will choose the leaders who will shape campus life for the year ahead of us.”

Rapturous applause erupts among the students.

I join in even though I don’t know why I’m clapping.

Dr. Martin calls for the nominations, and a lithe young woman dressed in a black slip dress appears bearing a worn wooden box.

He makes a show of unlocking it with a key taken from around his neck.

“Did you vote?” I whisper to Tara.