Chapter 61 – Finishing Blow

Wherein Rose deals with Brittany.

Sunsoulday’s lecture was cancelled, due to the disaster of the dormitory building going up in flames. Rose enjoyed the extra day at home. She needed the time to decompress and relax. Impressions still swam through her mind. Fatigue pulled at her, due to the late night and all the alcohol she consumed.

Last night, on the carriage ride home, neither of the other two women had been talkative. Valentina had been mostly unconscious, whereas Bosra had been plain old mad. It was until this morn, when a courier express-delivered day-journals – with regards of the Arch-Duchess of Effyne – that she understood her friends had had a much different experience than she had.  

The papers had been folded in such a way that there was no avoiding looking at the pictures.

The accompanying note in Venlica’s cursive scrawl read: Your father is eternally disappointed in your lack of loyalty.

Valentina threw up her second attempt at breakfast.

Valentina hated her mother for that note. But worse, she hated herself for being a worthless daughter.

She curled up into a ball on the sofa, pulling her house coat tighter around her and making sure it also covered knees and lower legs. Only the tips of her thick woollen socks peeked out from under the rim. 

Her body ached from the inside out. She had a headache, a stomachache and more sore muscles than she could count. Her elbow refused to move at all.

Rose came in – after removing the bowl with its sour smelling contents - and grabbed the day-journals. She wasn't in them, but Valentina was front and centre on all three, each portrait slightly different from the others. One thing was the same; she was naked. She was still covered in paint in the first, and somewhere indoors; dripping wet in the second, in front of the fountain.; and unceremoniously dangling over Bosra's shoulder in the third.

It wasn't very obviously Bosra. The only thing clear from the picture was that Valentina was held by someone very large. It was very obviously Valentina though. 

Rose found the note, read it, and tore it up. With a vengeance, she threw the snippets into the fire. 

"Unless he tells you so himself, you're not allowed to believe these words," Rose stated strictly. 

Valentina knew the truth of those words. Fire could not burn them away.

"This get you what you need?" Bosra asked, barging in. She, too, picked up a day-journal. After a quick study of one picture, she threw the useless piece of paper down again.

"I don't know," Valentina wailed softly, hiding her face in her knees.

When Rose arrived at Bardic College campus bright and early on Luminsday for her practicum, she was greeted with squeals and cheers, stomping and clapping. Rose blushed, but waved, unsure what to make of this.

Three people made room between them and pulled her down on a chair. Someone pushed her scorched violin case into her hand. "I grabbed it for you. Maybe you could get it fixed, like your violin."

Rose let the experiences wash over her. She took the seat. She took the case, held it in her lap.

Inside she found the recording stone, nestled in a bed of perfectly fine velvet. She shut the case and clamped it to her chest. The case had done what it should; protect the contents. This damage, she could get fixed.  

The teacher arrived late and nobody was interested in what he had to say, or what he would have them do.

Talk of the party was far more important. There was the fire. Eleven students were in hospital with severe burns. Three people had died. Nobody knew them personally and thus it wasn’t interesting enough to focus on for long. The prevailing theory was that they were squatters. They had found an empty room, crashed it and set up a drug lab there.

Far more important was Rose’s performance. Classmates re-enacted it until they had convinced the teacher to let her perform it again.

And Rose did. Shyly, she got up on stage.

"Y’all will have to help me squeal. I didn’t bring my violin." She hadn’t had the case to transport it safely.

A round of cheers went up. Only Brittany, in the front row of the audience, stayed sulkily quiet.

Rose tapped the stone to start the recording. A few measures in, she started singing. Before she reached the chorus, the entire class was shouting along. They squealed when needed. They laughed when it ended.

Bolstered by the boisterous energy, Rose took a flourishing bow.

At lunch, Rose repeated her performance. This time, the entire dining hall joined in. After another standing ovation, people came to ask her for her autograph, which she improvised as an oval with two little circles in it; a piggy nose print.

Oinking and grunting followed her through the halls once again, but this time, it made Rose smile.

Walking into a bathroom – because she really couldn’t hold it until she was home – she stopped and giggled at seeing that nose-print scrawled life-sized on a stall door.

It felt so weird. Unreal. 

Hanging over a rough stone wash basin, Rose debated skipping the afternoon course – claiming mental instability due to the fire – when Brittany walked in. The other woman stopped dead in her tracks. Her face twisted into a sneer. 

"Look who it is... Student body favourite, Rosie the Pig."

Rose righted herself. "Look who can't deal with losing." She was done with this woman. So so done. 

"If you think, for one second that I am going to let you-" Brittany pointed a long-nailed finger her way. 

Rose pushed her hand down and stepped in close, standing nose to nose with the snooty, snobby shrew.

"You're going to do what, Britty B.? You're going to get me expelled? You're going to report me to Mr Bosch again? Does your daddy know you're doing it with him on the sly? That that's how you get good grades? Sunfather knows it can't be because you study."

Brittany blanched. "You can't prove a thing!"

That her fellow student and chief tormentor was doing the dirty with the gal-raising Mr Bosch had been an educated guess. It disgusted Rose to have it confirmed. 

"I don't need to, do I? All I need to do is tell your daddy the story, and he'll believe me. After all, I see you come into Mr Bosch's room every Paladay, right after my own session with the pervert."

"Accusing me will only implicate yourself!" Brittany defended. Rose could see her turning ashen, though. She had hit the nail on the head. 

"Sure. But I am just a random Fairfields girl, and you're practically royalty..." 

"If you...!" Brittany tried.

"You'll what?" Rose asked darkly, pushing the woman backwards a step. "Make my life a hell-scape? You already did. I lived. Make sure I can't get a job in the city? I don't want one. You lose, Britty B. Better accept it now, or I will tell your daddy."

Brittany swallowed and averted her gaze. 

"Smart choice." Rose sidestepped Valentina's cousin, picking up her bag and case, and left the bathroom. 

~

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