It’s been three hours, and the panjandrums—Madame Brooke, Madame Cornelius, and Madame Sage—are still locked in a meeting with several clan representatives, arguing about the portal. Most of them believe it could’ve helped fend off the night creatures. They’re questioning Fleur Panache’s motives, calling the whole thing unfair. Then there is me, the one, who not only closed the portal but used the demize clock. The bearer of the clock, the worst kept secret but still a secret that is nomore.

Meanwhile, I’ve been sentenced to my room.

Tried reading, meditating, pacing, sit-ups, none of it helped. Now I’m just sitting still, trying to keep the nerves down.

A knock.

“Madame Brooke says you can come out now. The meeting’s over. She’s asked to see you in her office.”

I walk the corridor, bracing myself for the worst. I did what I had to do. That’s that.

Madame Brooke pauses her writing to give me a look I can’t quite read.

“Alright. Demotion, dungeon, or exile slash purgatory?” I offer with a half-smile, dry.

She adjusts a pile of papers, taking her time before answering.

“You’re not going to be punished. What you did saved lives. It was necessary.”

The relief catches me off guard.

“You sent Sira and Amelia to—?”

“I know what I did,” she interrupts. “At the time, it felt like the only option.”

“And Amelia stealing the white stone in the underworld? Was that the ‘only option’ too? I’m sorry, but none of this makes sense.”

She sighs. “Frankie, there’s something you need to know.”

“What?” I brace myself.

“I didn’t tell you before... because I was angry. I wanted to punish you for running. But now it’s essential. Madame Cornelius is not well.”

I say nothing. I already know.

“She doesn’t have much time left. And as you know, she’s a vital member of the panjandrums. So to answer your question, it was the only option.”

“Okay, so what are you going to do about it now?”

“We’ll see.” Her shoulders slump. “Right now, we need to focus on you."

There is a pause.

"Your father..." she starts with a heaviness that always accompanies the mention of my father. "He awakened wars - wars we've been paying for till this very day. The clans know this. They know half of the population that was brought into this world was through a whirlwind, a typhoon he summoned along with his counterparts."

Honestly, I'd heard this story a thousand times and each time I felt the burden of it all smeltering. The undertone wasn't lost on me hence the reason why I was a Panachean, a peacemaker, fighting for this world.

"I say this to say Pyreneans knowing you, of all people, are the clock's bearer... That's bound to put an even bigger target on your back.”

I look away.

“You’ll need to keep a low profile at Wild Springs High. That should be easy... and Celine arrives tomorrow.

Great. Just what I need.

“You know we need to keep her comfortable. Her father is a valuable asset. In the coming days, you’ll be her handler until whenever she wants to leave."

“This is ridiculous. Isn’t she married now?”

“Yes, and?”

“I don’t know maybe it's me, shouldn’t she be playing house or whatever married women do? I’m not in the mood to babysit some king’s daughter.”

“Unfortunately, you don’t have a choice.”

“Why me, what about Tetris?”

“She’s in Arcanes.”

“Bottega?”

“... in Raye in Potanama - Jade is training recruits and the Sterling twins suspended no thanks to you. Amelia... hates Celine or is it the other way around? In conclusion you're the most viable option plus Celine trusts you. You are forgetting she can also fight."

I shake my head, a ted irritated.

“The Seven Signs will assist you.”

Brooke sighs again, and I know what’s coming.

"It still has to be said, you could’ve died closing that portal."

"Your concern is quite touching... hard to believe you sent me to the dungeon."

She sighs. "Sending you to the dungeon was... a misstep. But to be fair, you’ve been unhinged lately. Plotting your escape with Sister Evelyn. The fights with Amelia—”

“Because my clock was stolen. And you tried to set me up with a merman.”

“That wasn’t a date.”

“Sure,” I mutter, slumping into the chair.

“I’m sorry. The dungeon must’ve been terrible.”

“Your apologies feel manipulative.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because three days ago, you sent Sira and Amelia to the portal—our responsibility at the time.”

“We just found out. We had no choice.” She narrows her eyes. “This is about Amelia, isn’t it?”

I bolt upright. “No. This is about principle. You move your pieces like we’re pawns.”

“That’s not true.”

“Then why do you need Jasmine? You’re the one who threw her into the portal.”

“Frankie, sit down,” she hisses.

“Wait till Amelia finds out how you treat people who defy you.” I slam the door on my way out.

                             *****

Amelia is leaning against the wall with some recruits, reading a paper. They hang on her every word, cocky and out-of-bounds, just like her.

“Have fun playing dress-up with Princess Celine,” she calls after me.

“F*ck off."

♤♤♤

“Welcome back, Miss Oliveira. Thought I’d never see your beautiful face again,” Jacob smirks as he and his boys pass by.

Mezzo is beside me. He and Jacob share a glare, intense, no longer playful. Something’s changed.

As Jacob disappears, I turn. “What was that?”

“Nothing. He’s just a douche,” Mezzo replies, eyes closed.
Still, it feels good to be back at Wild Springs. Everything smells like teenage drama.
“You cannot put your hands on a student,” I warn.
Mezzo sighs and starts writing with his Parker pen aka, shutting me out.

***

“Mezzo and Jacob had a full-on fight during the last football game. It's still fresh everyone is talking about it," Nick fills me in reluctantly.

We are standing next to the Dean's office.

"What? Why?"

"Well according to Mezzo, Jacob is a..."

"Douche..." we say it at the same time."

"Yep, that, and also he said Jacob was not taking the match seriously."

"That's it?"

"No. but I don't think you're ready for the tea."

"Hey, Nick."

"Hey, Brittany." He responds, half smiling at the group of girls passing by.

"Spill..."

If I could just say Nick annoys me with his unwillingness to say or do and yet does 'do' and 'say'. It's just he will be looking for a 'push'. A rise he gets from watching people scramble for the bread crumbs he so effortlessly throws. The whole thing is anger-inducing.

"I need to know 'cause the dean is on to him. He is now on his last warning."

"He's been on his last warning since freshman year. It's not that deep."

"It is. Stop acting like you didn't feel the tension earlier on, everyone did."

He is about to say something but Mezzo's distinct calm voice interrupts our little meeting knocking us off kilter.

"Are you doing the 'Savages and Purist' operation thing today or should I go somewhere and leave you two to continue discussing me behind my back?"

Nam and the rest of the seven signs look at us like we have committed treason

The Seven Signs stare at us like we’ve committed treason.

Blanketed in his silent treatment, I step forward.

Clearing my throat, I say, “We hunt for Truants tomorrow. Today, we welcome a visitor. Dress your best.”

“Who is it?”

“You’ll know when they arrive.”

***

An hour later, several carriages pull up in front of the FP porch. A young woman in a fancy coat with lacy gloves steps out. The Seven Signs finally stir.

“No way. That’s Princess Celine from the Euchatel clan!” Nick cries, sprinting forward to kiss her hand.

She gives him a smile like he’s a puppy.

***

Once Celine is settled, she insists on following me to my room with a small suitcase she wouldn’t let the maids touch. She spreads out on my bed, already in her Fleur Panache uniform.

Babysitting her is a full-time job.

“You and Amelia still going at it?”

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

She grins, half-drowsy. “Seeing you feels like looking at myself from another angle.”

I throw my jacket on the bed, annoyed, and check the mirror. Just to confirm I exist. That I’m not one of Brooke’s chess pieces.

“Oh, come on. Admit it, you missed me. I got you something.” She kicks her suitcase, the one she wouldn’t let us touch, toward me.

I shake my head, already bracing myself. Celine loves gifting me girly things.

Still, I’m warming up to her.

Inside the bag: face masks, hair clips, a dress, heels... and a doll. “What am I, five?”

I stash the bag in the wardrobe, thinking of little girls in villages who’d die for these.

“I even brought you a real crown.” She moves to place it on my head.

That gives me a chance to really look at her: short brown hair, sleeked sides, middle parting, all matching her oval face and lean frame. She looks Panachean. But she’s not. She’s a rebellious princess who once took our training just because someone called her an imposter.

“If you put that on my head, I’ll cut off your hands and hang them on the Fleur Panache logo.”

“Jeez. Detached Frankie never lets up.” She places the crown down.

“Wallace and I are getting a divorce.”

“That was fast.”

“See? That’s why I like you. Straight to the point.” She sits again, looking tired.

“He won me over with lies. Then showed his true self. Can you believe he backed my dad on rationing salt?”

One redeeming thing about Celine, she always fights for what’s right.

“So you think hiding in here will make him disappear?”

“I just want to be far from him.”

“What happens when he’s close?”

“I can’t think straight. I’ve figured him out, but I can’t switch my feelings on and off. Maybe your clock can help.”

She lifts it from my bedside drawer.

That thing’s been hounding me since the portal. It came back.

“Put it back.”

“Okay, okay.” She does. “Stevie says hi.”

I arch an eyebrow. Highly unlikely.

The last time we spoke, he professed his undying love and begged me to marry him. We were friends once, but that ended fast.

“I can’t believe his loveless marriage outlasted mine,” Celine mutters.

“We’re hunting truants tomorrow.”

“God, I miss that.”

“Go to your room. I need sleep."