It was weeks since the clocktower incident, and for the most part the Starlings left her alone—although Elettra could feel their constant stares. Their silent worry over her. Ivo was mercifully discreet and kept the conversation to comfortable small talk when they worked together, but even Elettra could feel the worry in Ivo’s voice when he asked how she was. She would catch them glancing at her whenever Onyx was close by. And they no longer tried to invite her to dinner or lunches; it was understood that Elettra was to always dine with her sister and Onyx and other “acceptables”.
Locke still attended her classes with McClare. He would sit opposite her, sullen and moody. And when their eyes would meet, Elettra quickly looked away. She could tell he was frustrated by her silence, and Elettra was grateful that she for once had the power in this dynamic. So, she kept that silent chasm between them that only she could traverse when she was ready. Locke wasn’t subtle, though; whenever he came to into class, his eyes ran all along her body, checking for bruises or marks or anything that would give him an excuse…
Onyx was no different—he too was sullen, but he didn’t lay a hand on Elettra. In fact, he seemed to flinch when she drew close, but she figured that was due to Taro. One day, she saw Taro walking out from the rooms where Onyx lived. Unlike Locke, Taro was angry with Elettra, and wasn’t afraid of showing it.
Taro scolded her shortly after she ran away from the clocktower, and then refused to speak to her after that.
But when she saw him coming out of Onyx’s rooms, he mumbled, “He won’t touch you anymore.”
Elettra only stared after him as he disappeared. When she finally saw Onyx, there was large cut on his lip, but he looked as imperious as ever, as though nothing had happened.
Meals passed by in painful silence, with Portia occasionally making a comment about some piece of gossip from one of her friends or about something that neither Onyx nor Elettra were particularly interested in—fashion, her nails or hair… Elettra’s mind would wander. And one day she found herself thinking about the Starling house—how it was lit up, how it smelled of cranberries, ham, and warmth. How she wanted to know about what everyone was talking about. How she wanted to curl up on the soft divan that was in the room where everyone had gathered and read a book. She also thought about Sparrow, about the dress she wore, and how when Sparrow would pass by, she would try to catch Elettra’s eye to wave or smile. And how Sparrow’s small, unwarranted kindness was unlike anything she had ever experienced.
And Ivo. And how he protected her when she didn’t want to see any of the Starlings. How he didn’t pry. How he let her be.
And then Locke.
Locke.
A knot tightened in her throat.
How he stood over her. How he smoldered in anger over her bruises.
How he furiously raked his eyes over her to see if there were any fresh ones.
Meanwhile, Onyx and Portia ate in silence. Silverware clinking, jaws working to chew. Everything was stiff with their rules, their image, and reputation.
What would Elettra give to trade her reputation for a moment with the Starlings.
“You’re nothing without your name.”
Was she something to them? To Sparrow, Ivo, and Locke?
More importantly, was she anything to Onyx and Portia?
She was a shadow to her sister. A mere instrument to both of them. And she was totally alone in that.
Elettra pressed her napkin to her lips and swallowed her tears. She inhaled deeply. “I have to go.”
“Where?” Onyx didn’t look up from his lunch, but Elettra felt as though he were about to bite like a cornered animal. She had to move slowly, deliberately.
“Research.”
“You research on Thursdays.”
“I won’t have time,” she paused. What on earth would she say? “Portia and I are going into town on Thursday to buy dress materials.”
Portia’s head shot up.
“Are you forgetting that I agreed?” Elettra smiled softly at Portia; Portia had been begging her to go. Elettra figured that she would have to go anyway. And in that moment, Portia had no choice, but to nod vaguely.
Onyx’s eyes switched to Portia.
“We’re going Thursday,” Portia admitted, pale and dazed.
Onyx surveyed Elettra’s face with suspicion.
“If I find that you’re not researching—”
“—you’ll know.” Elettra returned coldly.
Onyx chewed.
“Go.”
Elettra hid her elation, and slowly walked out of Onyx’s rooms. But once she was out the front door, she burst down the steps and broke into a sprint.
She hadn’t felt so free. She drank in the cold, winter air. She knew where Sparrow would be, but she wasn’t thinking of Sparrow exactly until she reached the art building. And then she paused in front of it. The only reason she would have to go in there was to see Sparrow. Her breath poured out in the smoky cold as other art students passed her, staring at Elettra.
Would Sparrow be happy to see her?
What if it was awkward?
Elettra didn’t want to go back, and she tremulously climbed the steps to the art building, feeling her defiance with each step.
When she was inside, she heard the crackle of magic and flashes emitting from each room.
Elettra glanced into each room, looking for Sparrow’s red locks; her hesitancy fading with each step. There was no turning back. Finally, she saw Sparrow’s distant figure, her locks falling loose around her shoulders from where she had pinned them to her head. Her arms were over her head as long red and pink ribbons danced in the air. Elettra couldn’t understand what was happening or what exactly was doing. But Sparrow must have heard her, and Sparrow turned suddenly, letting her arms fall. It took Sparrow a moment—her face brightened with surprise and then darkened with confusion.
“Hey…” she called out, taking a step forward.
Elettra’s tried to smile, her heart beating fast. “I just saw… I want to know what you’re doing.”
Sparrow glanced over her shoulder at her fallen ribbons.
“It’s a part of a project,” she nodded behind her. Then she paused, “you’re not…?”
Elettra followed her gaze over her shoulder, but Elettra realized that Sparrow was talking about Onyx.
She shook her head: “I just was out for a walk, that’s all.”
Sparrow nodded vaguely, expecting more.
Elettra licked her lips and looked around the room, which was draped in velvet. There wasn’t much to observe, and Sparrow was watching her closely, waiting for a reason. Elettra couldn’t look at her at this point and twisted her hands together.
“I lied,” Elettra whispered. She didn’t know what else to say. “I told Onyx I needed to do research.”
“But you came here,” Sparrow finished softly, tilting her head to the side.
Elettra nodded.
“What is he doing to you?” Sparrow had rushed up to Elettra and ran her hands over her shoulders and arms.
“There’s just so many things I am and am not supposed to do,” Elettra was surprised by her own laughter, “it seems silly, but everyone is paranoid about reputation.”
“You’re inheriting a lot…” Sparrow nodded.
Taro must’ve talked to her.
“You’re not in an easy position—Onyx or no Onyx.”
Elettra sniffed and nodded.
“Sometimes I wish I wasn’t who I was. And that’s nothing, apparently.”
“That’s not true!” She protested. Then her voice fell: “Did he tell you that?”
But Elettra just smiled, her chest lifting and her head shaking, dismissing what she said: she had to maintain composure. She had already said too much about her future brother-in-law. It was dangerous to speak against family in the Tariel coven.
“Let’s get some tea,” Sparrow gave Elettra an old spare coat from the lost and found, “I don’t think Onyx will recognize you in this horrible thing.”
But when Elettra pulled on the old, patched brown coat that was too large for her, she immediately felt as though she could fall asleep standing up in the coat.
When they were ready, Sparrow looped her arm through Elettra’s and they walked silently across campus toward the Starling House. Elettra wasn’t sure if she had been exhausted from the weeks of always acting the right way, keeping total composure, and living with the quiet anxiety that Onyx would beat her again for some arbitrary misdeed, or if she was relieved to finally be arm in arm with Sparrow, or both, but Elettra’s felt as though every muscle in her body had finally relaxed and she was able to breathe easier. She walked in a happy daze. And when they reached the Starling House she didn’t even think Locke would be inside until they crossed the threshold.
She smelled bergamot. But her apprehension felt far away. She climbed out of her coat, and Sparrow had her sit on the plush, velvet divan as she disappeared to get the tea. The house was no less pleasant in the daytime. The housekeeper came in and lit a fire as Elettra finally took in the room: there were walls and walls of books, a piano in the corner, a large, worn, red rug that covered nearly the entire floor. It was certainly a room where many different people contributed—there was student artwork of still lifes, landscapes, the heavens, and portraits that hung along the walls. Some had frames and other didn’t. There were holiday cards along the mantlepiece; there were garish throws, and chairs with torn satin covering. It was cluttered and comforting to Elettra. When Sparrow gave her a mug full of tea and cream that smelled of peaches and honey. They both occupied opposite ends of the divan.
They spoke for hours; Sparrow mostly talked, describing her own home, her parents, and the small coven she was from. They also talked about classes, and Sparrow told Elettra of all the gossip that swirled around her friend groups. Sparrow painted a lively picture of her life at Haightford, and Elettra wasn’t for a moment bored.
Elettra hadn’t realized that they had been talking for hours when Sparrow straightened and looked out the window across from them: “He’ll be happy to see you.”
Elettra straightened—was it Locke? Her face went cold and her muscles stiffened again. Her apprehension was back.
But when they watched who walked through the door, Elettra exhaled with relief—Ivo paused as he was taking off his coat, his eyes switching from Sparrow to Elettra back to Sparrow.
“Is she even allowed here?”
Sparrow thew a pillow at him, and Elettra couldn’t help but laughing. It was now her fear of Onyx that seemed far away.
“I was able to escape for a few hours.” Elettra grabbed a mug from the tray and poured Ivo some tea. He slowly sank into a chair across from them. He whispered a thank you as he accepted the tea.
“As long as he doesn’t’…”
And everyone paused for a moment.
“He won’t,” Sparrow declared brightly pouring more tea into her mug, “He won’t. I won’t let him.”
Sparrow glanced at the two of them—her bright eyes and smile seemed to possess a determinedness that awoke a small hope in Elettra.
But when Elettra twisted around to look at the clock, reality and all its worry rushed back to her. She threw the blanket that covered her legs off and she hopped over to the entryway—“I have class!”
“Do you want us to walk you over?”
Elettra was hopping on one foot trying to get her shoes on, and she looked up at Ivo “why?”
Ivo opened and closed his mouth and then glanced back at Sparrow.
“Protection?” Sparrow offered.
“I think Onyx would be angrier if he saw either one of you with me than if I were alone.”
Sparrow nodded while Ivo folded his arms; Elettra could tell he didn’t like any of this one bit. But Elettra didn’t have time to ask him.
Elettra raced down the pathway to campus, dodging other students and kicking up snow as she flew. When Elettra finally reached the clocktower she was huffing. She paused only for a moment before skipping every two steps to reach the top of her classroom. And when she sprinted down the hallway she barely had time to notice that the door as opening at the other end.
It was collision of arms, a firm torso smacking her in the face, and Locke clutching his stomach as they staggered back.
“Are you in a hurry?” Locke was at once wincing and trying to see if Elettra was hurt in any way.
But Elettra was only rubbing the bridge of her nose: she couldn’t help but smile at his sarcasm as he noticed her flushed cheeks and her wind-swept hair.
“I’m so sorry,” she stammered through her smile. And somehow standing in front of Locke and looking at the confusion on his face only made her giggle.
After a moment, Locke stepped to the side and gestured for her to enter: “I’m sure you’re expected.”
Elettra just pressed her lips together—now she was unsure if he was actually irritated with her or just confused.
“You’re looking rather bright, Miss Tariel,” Professor McClare tilted her head to the side.
Elettra only smiled; she was at a loss for words.
She was bright. She finally was feeling better.
