You've caught Dominique's attention; his eyes widen. Then he smiles. "I don't normally throw tantrums," he says, "but I could make an exception over this."
He sighs.
"You can tell me how it looks, once I get it," he says.
He cocks his head flirtatiously
Dominique smiles, too, his brown eyes crinkling at the edges.
"I'm looking forward to the Winter Ball, anyway," he says. "The Gallatin lot are plenty of fun."
The Days Pass
As fall sets in, the bite in the air grows. On the first day of frost, your shoes crunch on the fallen leaves, and your breath steams in the air. Pascal announces at breakfast that the older students from Archambault will be attending Gallatin College for a formal dinner.
"Now, we're not going to let the unfortunate business from a little while back hold us back from enjoying ourselves," Pascal says. "It's under very sensible leadership these days. I always enjoy a good brandy with the Headteacher."
Dominique gives you a significant look. "We can find out what they'd like for the Winter Ball!" he says. "So it's perfect."
"They won't be thinking about that," Javi scoffs. "They'll be fishing for spouses."
Beside you, Asher says softly, "I've been checking it over each day this week. It's a beautiful set of buildings."
Asher ducks their head with a smile. "Thank you."
Dominique pipes up. "I heard," he says, "that Gallatin doesn't concentrate on marriage so much these days, now that Mr. Griffith's in charge. It's more about preparation for university."
Beaumont snorts. "How do you find out and remember all that, and yet you never remember what time it is?"
"Because this is actually interesting," Dominique says as though that's patently obvious.
With a flamboyant gesture, Pascal dismisses you all for lessons, but the trip is the only thing on anyone's minds. In the afternoon, you troop over to Vercher House to get yourselves ready.
You're to wear your uniform for the dinner, unlike other occasions when evening wear will be expected; still, you have leeway to make your outfit your own.
You adjust your shirt collar and sleeves so they are stiff and secure, and fix a tiny scuff on one of your shoes. Very carefully you snip a loose thread on the hem of your pants, to make sure your clothes are flawless.
When you emerge into your suite, Asher is waiting in the sitting room, dressed impeccably in their dress livery. Their pale hair is carefully smoothed back, and they look like they don't know what to do with their hands.
"Ready for the trip?" they say, getting to their feet.
Asher nods and holds the door open for you as you head out into the evening air.
The sun has nearly set; a faint stain of crimson peeps over the line of mountains. Carriages snake along the drive in a long convoy; Emile calms one of the more restive horses. You spot Gabi and a cluster of other students ahead, filing two by two into their carriages.
Dominique catches your eye and hurries over. He's wearing a very fine ruffled coat in pale gray wool, and his wavy hair bounces with his stride. "Shall we travel there together?" he says.
You and Asher step into the carriage, and Dominique follows, settling opposite the two of you. As the carriage starts moving, Dominique eagerly peers out of the window.
"I love going to Gallatin, it's so nice to be out and about," he says. "Though everyone will want to get to know you. None of the rest of us will get a look in."
He speaks without rancor, and flashes you a smile over his shoulder.
Dominique settles down and pulls up his feet, crossing his legs. In the dim shadows of the carriage, you can see his broad smile.
"You're absolutely too kind," he says.
Dominique turns his bright face to Asher.
"What about you?" he says. "Are you looking forward to tonight?"
Asher looks surprised to be spoken to, but smiles politely. "I've heard Hyacinthe van Clare is studying at Gallatin," they say. "The dancer, you know? I wonder if there'll be a recital."
Dominique clasps his hands. "Oh, yes, Hyacinthe's a phenomenal dancer," he says. "Really quite formal. But I love ballet, even if I don't understand what's going on half the time."
"Oh, I know how you feel," Dominique says. "Sometimes when people are talking about it, I don't know what to say. Other than that, it's beautiful."
Asher starts to say something enthusiastic, but the carriage begins to slow, then halts. The driver thumps the roof. You have arrived at Gallatin College.
Next
Asher emerges from the carriage first, and helps you down the steps. Dominique follows. You're faced with a vast stone archway leading to a quadrangle glowing with electric lamps. A coat of arms bearing a scroll and a swan sits above the arch; beneath it is a carved inscription reading Truth is found in gentility.
Servants usher you into an auditorium whose high buttresses soar overhead. Students dressed in gray and red uniforms sit upon wooden benches; on the stage, beneath another swan-bedecked coat of arms, sit the Gallatin teachers.
At the center of the stage stands a tall, pale man in his thirties with faint gray at his temples, looking seriously out at the crowd. He wears an expensive, but unfussy, gray suit. "Welcome to Gallatin College," he says. "I'm pleased to see you here once more. For those who don't know me, I'm Mr. Sinclair Griffith, Headteacher of the college."
Pascal ascends the stage and they briefly clasp hands. Vere, Clemence, and the rest of them settle comfortably with the Gallatin staff. Anthony leans back in his seat to talk to, or at, his colleagues, while Chiara laughs as she pats the arm of a Gallatin teacher.
"Head Prefect Trevelyan will now give a welcome speech," Mr. Griffith says, and applause rings out from the gathered crowd.
A student wearing glasses joins the teachers on stage, carrying a sheaf of papers. They survey the crowd, then launch into the speech.
Next