They rounded the corner to the great dining hall. Everything was back to normal; the girls were all seated at their various tables, looking neat and tidy and ready for lessons. London and all its charms were now behind them.
Sophronia and Dimity made their way to their table. Like Monique, several of the older girls had been left behind in London, off to find husbands. Their beaux were carefully selected, their instructions clear, and their new lives as intelligencers begun. And, two new debuts sat wide-eyed at their dining table, staring with awe at Preshea. Preshea who, like some evil monster of Greek mythology, had sprung fully formed into Monique’s shoes. Literally, as she’d been gifted with the older girl’s peach kid boots.
Dimity took her customary seat. “Oh, look, Sophronia, you’ve got letters. How exciting! Who from?”
Sophronia opened the first one. “Goodness gracious, Felix Mersey.”
“Oh, what does he say? Is it a declaration?”
Sophronia considered the brief but pleasant paragraph. “No. Compliments and excessively charming inquiries. But blessedly there’s no mention of me dressing as a dandy.”
“A courting letter! How exciting.”
“Mmm. You know, I think he thinks I favor the Picklemen now. Vampires, after all, kidnapped you.”
“Well, don’t we? It wasn’t exactly comfortable for me.” Dimity had a gift for understatement. “And they did kill that poor girl.” She shuddered with remembered horror.
Sophronia put a hand on her friend’s arm for comfort. “I’m more in favor than I was, but why did the hive risk so much to stop them? There’s something more afoot.”
“Will you ever stop seeing conspiracies?”
“When others stop concocting them, I suppose.”
Dimity sighed. “So it goes. Now, what’s in the other letter?”
This one was even shorter than the first, a few flowery lines and an elegant signature. “Lord Akeldama pays his respects. Well, gracious me.”
Dimity was confused. “Who’s he? Is he also courting you?”
“In a way, I think he may be.” Sophronia gave the letter to Bumbersnoot to burn. Safer that way.
The End