As we got onto the airplane I noticed the girls whispering.
"Don't let them talk to each other," I growled at the nearest guardian. "Five minutes together, and they'll come up with an escape plan."
From the look on their faces they had been planning escape. The dark haired girl shot me a glare and stormed off down the aisle to be back of the plane. I sat at the front next to the princess. I could feel the fear in her. I assumed it was for us. Her hand was tightly gripping a bottle of water. I leaned forward to grab my book off of the floor. If I had to sit on the plane, at least I could get some reading in. Close to the end of the ride I walked back to where the other girl was sitting and traded places with the guardian beside her. She determinedly turned away from me, staring out the window. I sat down and let several minutes pass before I asked.
"Were you really going to attack all of us?" She didn't answer me. This girl was so frustrating.
"Doing that . . . protecting her like that—it was very brave." I paused. "Stupid, but still brave. Why did you even try it?" That finally got her to look at me. She brushed the hair out of her face and looked me in the eye before answering.
"Because I'm her guardian." She turned back to the window before I could react. Which was good, because I'm pretty sure that I in that second I let my mask drop. I had definitely not expected that answer from someone so young and naïve. After a moment, I stood up and returned to the princess. After landing, we drove the girls the rest of the way to St. Vladimir's. It was sunset—the start of the day—and shadows spread across the campus. The school was built in the same style as the ones back in Europe. The buildings exaggerated elaborate, churchlike architecture, with stone carvings and high peaks. Wrought iron gates enclosed small gardens and doorways. We were on the secondary campus, which was divided into lower and upper schools. Each was built around a large open quadrangle decorated with stone paths and century-old trees.
We were walking towards the upper school's quad, which had academic buildings on one side, with the dhampir dormitories and the gym sat opposite. The Moroi dorms were on one of the other ends, and opposite them were the administrative buildings that also served the lower school. The younger students lived on the primary campus, to the west. Around it all was wide, open space. We were miles away from any city. The air felt cool and smelt of pine and wet, decaying leaves. Overgrown forests ringed the perimeter of the Academy, and during the day, you could see mountains rising up in the distance. It was a breathtaking sight, and one very different from where I grew up. As we walked into the main section of the upper school the girl ran up to me.
"Hey, Comrade."
I kept walking and didn't look at her.
"You want to talk now?" I said.
"Are you taking us to Kirova?"
"Headmistress Kirova," I stressed. From my other side the princess shot her a look that seemed to say, Don't start something.
"Headmistress. Whatever. She's still a self-righteous old bit—"
Her words trailed off as we walked through a set of doors and into the commons. I heard her sigh. It was just about breakfast time. Dhampirs and Moroi sat together, eating and socializing, faces lit with whatever current gossip held the Academy's attention. As we entered, the loud buzz of conversation stopped instantly, as if someone had flipped a switch. Hundreds of sets of eyes swiveled onto our group.
Our walk ended as we entered the headmistress's office. She was an older woman, sharp-nosed and gray-haired. She was tall and slim, like most Moroi. Prince Victor Dashkov sat in the corner. Most of the guardians left as the girls sat down. Only Alberta, the captain of the school's guardians, and I stayed. We took our positions along the wall. Kirova fixed her eyes on the girls and opened her mouth. But before she could say anything, the deep, gentle voice of Prince Dashkov stopped her.
"Vasilisa."
The princess sprang up and ran to him, throwing her arms around his emaciated body.
"Uncle," she whispered. She sounded as though she were on the verge of tears as she tightened her grip. With a small smile, he gently patted her back. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you safe, Vasilisa." He looked toward me. "And you too, Rose."
She nodded back, and she was trying to hide her shock as his condition. He was only about forty or so, but he looked to be almost twice that age. Pale. Withered. Hands shaking. It seemed unfair that his disease was going to kill him young and keep him from becoming king.
Headmistress Kirova let them have a few more moments and then stiffly drew the princess back to her seat. Time for the lecture. She covered all her bases: responsibility, reckless behavior, self-centeredness. I found myself spacing out, and I could tell that the dhampir girl was too. But soon the lecture shifted to her—that was when she tuned back in.
"You, Miss Hathaway, broke the most sacred promise among our king: the promise of a guardian to protect a Moroi. It is a great trust. A trust that you violated by selfishly taking the princess away from here. The Strigoi would love to finish off the Dragomirs; you nearly enabled them to do it."
"Rose didn't kidnap me," the princess declared. "I wanted to go. Don't blame her." Headmistress Kirova tsked at them both and paced her office, hands folded neatly behind her narrow back.
"Miss Dragomir, you could have been the one who orchestrated the entire plan for all I know, but it was still her responsibility to make sure you didn't carry it out. If she'd done her duty, she would have notified someone. If she'd done her duty, she would have kept you safe." The dhampir snapped.
"I did do my duty!" she shouted, jumping from her chair. Alberta and I both flinched, but I decided that she didn't look dangerous enough to interfere. Yet.
"I did keep her safe! I kept her safe when none of you"— she made a sweeping gesture around the room—"could do it. I took her away to protect her. I did what I had to do. You certainly weren't going to."
The headmistress stared at her, her face blank. "Miss Hathaway, forgive me if I fail to see the logic of how taking her out of a heavily guarded, magically secured environment is protecting her. Unless there's something you aren't telling us?"
The girl bit her lip.
"I see. Well, then. By my estimation, the only reason you left—aside from the novelty of it, no doubt—was to avoid the consequences of that horrible, destructive stunt you pulled just before your disappearance."
"No, that's not—"
"And that only makes my decision that much easier. As a Moroi, the princess must continue on here at the Academy for her own safety, but we have no such obligations to you. You will be sent away as soon as possible."
The girl's cockiness dried up. "I . . . what?"
The princess stood up beside her. "You can't do that! She's my guardian."
"She is no such thing, particularly since she isn't even a guardian at all. She's still a novice."
"But my parents—"
"I know what your parents wanted, God rest their souls, but things have changed. Miss Hathaway is expendable. She doesn't deserve to be a guardian, and she will leave."
"Where are you going to send me? To my mom in Nepal? Did she even know I was going? Or maybe you'll send me off to the father?" The headmistress's eyes narrowed at the bite in that last word. When the girl spoke again, her voice was cold. "Or maybe you're going to try to send me of to be a blood whore. Try that, and we'll be gone by the end of the day."
"Miss Hathaway," she hissed, "you are out of line."
I knew I had to do something to keep this girl here. I had heard many things about her just in the short time I had been at the Academy. But despite that, she was showing some incredible courage and dedication to the princess; even though she was only a novice. Something about that intrigued me to learn more, but in order to do that I needed to keep her here.
"They have a bond." My voice broke the thick tension, and they all turned to me. I think the headmistress had forgotten I was there, but the girl hadn't. I looked straight at her, staring through her. "Rose knows what Vasilisa is feeling. Don't you?"
Headmistress Kirova looked completely thrown off guard as she glanced between me and the girls. "No . . . that's impossible. That hasn't happened in centuries."
"It's obvious," I stated. "I suspected as soon as I started watching them."
Neither of the girls responded.
"That is a gift," murmured Victor from his corner. "A rare and wonderful thing.
"The best guardians always had that bond," I added. "In the stories."
The headmistress's outrage returned. "Stories that are centuries old," she exclaimed. "Surely you aren't suggesting we let her stay at the Academy after everything she's done?"
I shrugged, knowing that this was going to take some negotiating. "She might be wild and disrespectful, but if she has potential—"
"Wild and disrespectful?" the girl interrupted. "Who the hell are you anyway? Outsourced help?"
Ouch.
"Guardian Belikov is the princess's guardian now," said Headmistress Kirova. "Her sanctioned guardian."
"You got cheap foreign labor to protect Lissa?"
Double ouch. It was pretty rude of her to say—particularly since most Moroi and their guardians were of Russian or Romanian descent—but I think she thought it was cleverer than it really was. And it wasn't like she had any room to talk. She might have been raised in the states, but her parents were both foreign born. Her dhampir mother, one of the best guardians in the world and a force to be reckoned with, was Scottish—red-haired, with a distinct accent—and rumor was her Moroi father was Turkish. That genetic combination had given her skin the color of almonds, along with semi-exotic features: big dark eyes and hair so deep brown that it almost looked black. A strikingly beautiful combination. One that I'd heard she took to advantage.
The headmistress threw her hands up in exasperation and turned to me. "You see? Completely undisciplined! All the psychic bonds and very raw potential in the world can't make up for that. A guardian without discipline is worse than no guardian"
"So teach her discipline." I said. "Classes just started. Put her back in and get her training again."
"Impossible. She'll still be hopelessly behind her peers."
"No, I won't," the girl argued, though no one was listening.
"Then give her extra training sessions," I suggested.
This negotiation felt more like a game of Ping-Pong. "Who's going to put in the extra time?" she demanded. "You?"
I came to an abrupt stop. I hadn't expected that. "Well, that's not what I—"
She crossed her arms with satisfaction. "Yes. That's what I thought."
I frowned. I was at a loss. My eyes flicked to the girls and I considered, did I really think this girl had what it took to be a real guardian?
"Yes," I said. "I can mentor Rose. I'll give her extra sessions along with her normal ones."
"And then what? She goes unpunished?"
"Find some other way to punish her," I answered. "Guardian numbers have gone down too much to risk losing another. A girl, in particular."
Prince Dashkov suddenly spoke from his corner chair. "I'm inclined to agree with Guardian Belikov. Sending Rose away would be a shame, a waste of talent."
The headmistress stared out her window for a few moments. When she turned back around, the princess met her eyes. "Please, Ms. Kirova. Let Rose stay."
"If Miss Hathaway stays, here's how it will be." She turned to her. "You continued enrollment at St. Vladimir's is strictly probationary. Step out of line once, and you're gone. You will attend all classes and required trainings for novices your age. You will also train with Guardian Belikov in every spare moment you have—before and after classes. Other than that, you are banned from all social activities, except meals, and will stay in your dorm. Fail to comply with any of this, and you will be sent . . . away."
The girl gave a harsh laugh. "Banned from all social activities? Are you trying to keep us apart?" she nodded toward the princess. "Afraid we'll run away again?"
"I'm taking precautions. As I'm sure you recall, you were never properly punished for destroying school property. You have a lot to make up for." Her lips tightened. "You are being offered a very generous deal. I suggest you don't let your attitude endanger it."
She was about to protest when she caught my gaze. I don't know what she read in it, but she looked at the floor, exhaled, and looked back up at the headmistress.
"Fine. I accept."