Page 107 of The Last De Loughrey Dynasty

Jesse turned his head to face him. “I’d like to remind you that your father weighs two billion, Mister McConnell. You’re just an oil boy at this very moment.”

“Hush with the nonsense money talk, boys,” Mrs Fanning, who had the difficult task of teaching each class the variants of dance for us to represent the school as nothing but perfection at the ball of Aquila in almost two months, snapped her fingers in a command for Julian to start the music on the radio again, but he wasn’t listening. Mrs Fanning sighed, and even though she was the calmest teacher we had at Aquila, she looked one wrong footstep away from an outburst.

I leaned forward and pressed play on the old thing before she would lose it.

“Thank you, Miss De Loughrey. It appears that Mister Hendrickson should consider seeing the nurse to get his hearing problem checked.” Julian blushed, embarrassed at her words. “Now, now, may Mister Berkshire show us if he’s as talented at dancing as he is at running his mouth.”

“I’m flattered you think I’m a talented speaker, Mrs Fanning,” Jesse grinned, taking the lead in harmony with the music.

“That wasn’t a compliment, Mister Berkshire.”

Maisie had told me that at the actual ball there would be pianists and violinists attending, playing the music live for the dance. The ball was a far bigger thing than I had imagined. A woman claimed she was the mother of a student from last year, when in fact she was a journalist looking for drama for the papers. I guess finding a scandal at a ball where England’s most known families attend is a perfect opportunity.

Too bad the press isn’t allowed on school grounds…

And still, apparently, every year a story makes it to the press.

Nathaniel and Maisie had been a harmonic couple when it came to dancing. They had grown to be one with the harmonyof the instruments playing a song. Meanwhile, Jesse and Maisie danced like two cats fighting for the last piece of cheese.

“Stop with the nonsense, you clumsy ducks! Get off my dance floor,” Fanning commanded and waved at the students who weren’t dancing to move onto the dance floor. “The girls line up on the left and the boys walk in from the right and stop in front of their chosen partner. And this time I expect none of you to fall over your own feet like toddlers. You’re graduating next year, and I dare say you’ll be eaten alive by society if you can’t even walk properly.”

I pushed off the wall with a laugh and made my way to Maisie, who was the first in line, as we placed ourselves like soldiers facing the giant windows. She leaned over to whisper in my ear, “she’s this dramatic every year. As if dance is so important in the twenty-first century.”

“Perhaps she’s read one or two historical romances a little too often and imagines this as our debutante ball,” I replied, and my friend snorted a little too loudly, which gained Mrs Fanning’s attention.

“Anything you’d like to announce to the class, Miss Alderidge?”

Maisie nodded confidently, and I stilled, already seeing the afternoons of detention this would cause us.

“I’m keen to know what the dress code for this year’s ball will be. My mother is already pestering me with questions about my dress and those of my sisters.” I released the breath I was holding at her answer. I somewhat always forgot that Maisie was the most natural liar I had ever met.

Our teacher grinned knowingly. “If you act surprised when Headmaster Shaw announces the theme next week, I will tell you.”

The girls crept closer to listen, and even the boys quieted down.

“I hope it’s not a masquerade ball again. My mother called the school out on such a cheap theme that’s rather fitting for elementary school than an elite academy,” Rebecca complained to one of her friends.

“Right? My hair got stuck in my mask last year and I had to cut a strand off,” Serena joined the quiet conversation.

“Is there a problem, Miss Tanner?” Mrs Fanning asked in a kind tone. Rebecca quietly crossed her arms in front of her chest and shook her head. Mrs Fanning smiled friendly at her. “Splendid, then I would welcome it if you shut up instead of talking to your classmates who actually care to listen.”

I bit my lip, trying not to laugh as Rebecca’s cheeks turned the colour of a tomato. Honestly, I loved classes with Mrs Fanning.

“As some of you may already know, it’s been three hundred years since Aquila Hall opened its gates to the world. And since the school is named after a constellation of the stars…” She started grinning in excitement. “The ball will be called Aquila Hall, a Celestial Soirée. The dress code involves everything celestially themed, and in the invites that will be sent out next month, there will be a more detailed list of accessories you’re allowed and asked to wear for the dance.”

A dozen different ideas crossed my mind for my dress, and I physically couldn’t wait to get back to my room to sketch the first draft I had in mind.

“That sounds so magical, do you think we’re allowed to wear whatever colour we like as long as it somewhat fits the theme? I have this emerald dress I’d love to wear, and I could ask my mama to sew some tulle on my arms so it would look like a nebula.” A girl from my class asked.

“Can your mummy even afford the extra tulle she’d need, Cassie?” a boy laughed.

Cassandra was the only other ginger in our grade. A sweet girl, honestly, and if it weren’t for our group holding so many dangerous secrets, I would have asked her by now if she’d like to sit at our table. She received a scholarship for the academy, and most students saw her as lesser than them.

“Detention after school hours for inappropriate behaviour towards a classmate, Mister Laurent,” Mrs Fanning scolded, before turning to Cassandra, who looked like she was about to cry. “And I’m afraid I can’t say any more about the dress code, since Headmaster Shaw commissioned someone else with that task.” She twirled around and pushed us back to our starting position. “It’s time to dance, ladies and gentlemen, even though most of you aren’t worthy of these titles.”

I leaned over to Cassandra, who stood beside me, giving her a gentle smile. “I, personally, think the nebula idea for your dress would look fabulous on you.”

The slightly younger girl blushed a little. “Thank you, Dorothee.”

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