Curtsies & Conspiracies

“I was out late.”

 

 

“Hive and pack dynamics as part of the modern aristocratic system.” Dimity waved a copy of the Evening Chirrup at her. “We were to read six articles written over the last twenty years from the gossip column. We’re to present on the treatment of supernaturals as teased out from society papers. It was actually kind of interesting.”

 

Sophronia took the parchment from her friend. “Did we all have the same six pamphlets to read?’

 

“Of course.”

 

“Who knew to collect and keep multiple copies of the same newspapers at various points over two decades?”

 

“You think these are fake?”

 

Sophronia raised one eyebrow; she was getting better at the maneuver. “Or Professor Braithwope has hidden quirks.”

 

“Sometimes I hate the way your mind works.”

 

They made their way to the lessons. Dimity guided Sophronia by the arm, so she could read while they walked. It wasn’t entirely successful, as Sophronia bumped into a wall, a statue of a nymph, and lastly Felix Mersey. She wasn’t entirely certain Dimity hadn’t guided her into the young lordling on purpose. Dimity thought rather too highly of Felix for Sophronia’s good.

 

“Why, Lord Mersey. How nice to see you this evening.” Dimity pinched Sophronia to make her pay attention.

 

“Miss Plumleigh-Teignmott. Miss Temminnick, are you all right?”

 

Sophronia, caught by a particular line in one of the older columns, looked up at him. “Oh, no need to apologize, my lord. My fault entirely.”

 

“I didn’t.”

 

“Mmm? Ah, well, I’m that clumsy when I read and walk.” She gave him a winning, if absentminded, smile.

 

“Fascinating transcript?” ventured Felix, slightly alarmed by her pleasant demeanor.

 

Sophronia thought he looked disturbingly adorable when confused. “Indeed it is. Ever heard of the Westminster vampire hive?”

 

“Of course, hasn’t everyone? Not exactly my social circle, Miss Temminnick.” The boy’s lip curled slightly.

 

“Are there many hives in London, do you know, Lord Mersey?”

 

“My dear Ria, one would be too many.”

 

“Well, perhaps Professor Braithwope will enlighten me. I take it you won’t be attending our lesson with him?”

 

“Wouldn’t be permitted, Miss Temminnick.”

 

“Pity, he’s a very entertaining teacher. If you would excuse us?” Sophronia and Dimity curtsied and made their way into the vampire’s classroom.

 

“Now what are you about, Sophronia?” hissed Dimity, as soon as they were out of earshot.

 

“Me?” They took their seats, Sophronia back to reading.

 

Professor Braithwope entered wearing a velvet smoking jacket, an expertly tied Indian silk cravat, and a pathologically unsteady mustache. “Welcome, little bites, welcome. Today we are on to an extremely interesting topic, whot. But first, your thoughts on the reading? Miss Pelouse?” The mustache arrowed in Monique’s direction.

 

Monique made some offhand comment. Preshea was up next, equally vague.

 

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