Page 23 of Architecti
It’s Severance Rite morning—my favourite day of the year.The campus is alive even before the students arrive.
My day is only dampened by two things:
First, the fact that it will be my last in this apartment.Like the new students, I have to move into different accommodations as Head of House Inferos.I’ve pre-packed my underwear and unmentionables.But left everything else for campus maintenance to handle.
And second, the protests in the city outside the academy walls.They’re loud enough that even buried this far in the campus, the echoes of their rage spill between the buildings like thunder.
Apparently, there are thousands of people at the gates.Both for and against Architecti’s resurrection.
I just hope the new students can get in.Half the campus staff have been sent out to deal with crowd control.
I take a sip of coffee, savouring the rich, nutty aroma of the cup I poured earlier.It reminds me of Midnight’s drink last night at the rave.
It’s six thirty, I need to hurry up.I sip the rest of my coffee and review the contracts I prepped as examples for my third-year class this afternoon.
I wish finding a way to break the contract my father made for me at birth was as easy as third-year class prep.There’s a ripple of movement in the air.I check the window wondering if I left it open, but it’s closed.
I rub my face and wonder if I have time for another coffee.Exhaustion is making me hallucinate.
A bang on the door startles me, and I yelp, but jump up and pull it open.“Father.”I beam.“Morning, are you ready for the new cohort?”
He leans down and kisses both my cheeks.“We need to talk.”
He barges past me and paces up and down my open-plan living room.
“What’s wrong?”
He rounds on me, his dark eyes full of winter and snow.I edge towards the door.This is not a good expression for my father to hold.
“Did you have anything to do with the invitations?”he says, blunt and authoritative.
“For the new cohort?”
He nods.
“No?I’m not on the invitation board…”
He storms up to me, grips my chin hard enough it will bruise.“Don’t lie to me, Lucy.”
I push his hand off me, hating when he behaves like this.I was hoping he got the bad mood out yesterday.
“Don’t fucking touch me.If you can’t come in here and be nice, then don’t bother visiting at all.”
My throat tightens, a warning from my body—from the contract—not to threaten my father.I rub my chin and neck trying to shrug off the throbbing shadow of his touch.
“Did you let her in?”
I fling my hands up.“Who?Seriously, I don’t have time for this.I still need to put my prep materials in my first classroom and get some contracts back to Professor Morrow before attending the Severance Rite.”
“Security saw you with a woman late last night.”He unbuttons his blazer, relaxing as if my flat is actually his.
I don’t like it.
Not one bit.
I don’t want him to make himself comfortable.
I shift position, my eyes landing on the floor.“Saw me doing what, exactly?”
