(no subject)

[river_meimei]

The kitchen: ruled by a plump and autocratic cook with a horde of scurrying servants.

The hallways: lit by gas and sunlight, wallpapered, lined with classrooms. (River's shoulders are tight and hunched every time she looks in one of these rooms. She looks in every one anyway. Every room; every corner.)

The cellar: damp, dim, full of shelves and barrels and glass jars. Pickles, blanched vegetables, potatoes and parsnips and onions. Coal and wood for fires.

The attic: dusty, dim as the cellar, and full of papers and stored paintings rather than root vegetables. A few servants' bedrooms, tiny and spare, with the kind of desperate cleanliness that's meant to make up for a lack of actual possessions.

Hardly anyone notices one more servant girl, especially one who keeps well out of the way of other servants. A few people -- a portly teacher with a bluff avuncular face, the cook, an imperious young teenager -- give her orders, barked or distractedly mumbled. River nods, tries not to flinch and not to glower, and scurries on with the proper cowed air. She ignores the orders once she's out of sight, of course.

Mostly, she keeps to the shadows. The corners, the back stairways, the closets; even fewer people look there.

She listens for whispers said and unsaid, for secrets and plans and screams. She looks at the walls: the cracks, the spaces, measuring dimensions with her eyes while her fingers tick and twist through mental calculations at her side.

(Whatever else may be said of the Academy, River learned there. Learned well.)

River watches, and River listens, and what River finds is: everything matches. Everything adds up.

There's a discreet back stairwell for servants' usage, but no hidden passages. There are trapdoors -- for laundry. There are rooms the students aren't allowed in -- for the faculty, or the servants.

But there's nothing sinister, in the building or lurking in anyone's thoughts. Nothing but the usual, petty human venalities.

It's an Edwardian girls' school.

Comments

[mistressmaryquitecontrary]

Mary is supposed to be excused from class briefly to go to the privy.

Instead, she is in the gardens outside, because it is spring and past spring, and she absolutely cannot make it through this whole afternoon without going o spend at least some time outside.

[river_meimei]

River is slipping down a back stairwell, footsteps slow and silent.

This stairway isn't precisely concealed; it's a servants' stair, narrow and discreet. And used frequently, to judge by the lack of dust.

The door at the bottom cracks open on well-oiled hinges, and River blinks at the narrow slice of afternoon sunlight.

[mistressmaryquitecontrary]

The gardens at school are well-trimmed, not half-wild, like Mary's own, but the flowers are no less pretty for all that.

Mary goes around to each bed, naming the types one by one to herself, observing whether they are growing well or ill (mostly well). She should probably be looking around to make sure no one sees her; she's not.

[river_meimei]

Not too much to see out here, but all the same, it's worth taking a quick look. But there's Mary, out among the flowers, and Mary's a danger to her cover.

But she's also a friend, and in this moment -- at this school, outside the brick walls where River has been wire-tight and fretful all this time as she slips between dormitory halls and classrooms -- Mary is relaxed and happy in the sunlight.

River pauses to watch, one hand resting lightly on the doorframe, and her face softens just a little.

[mistressmaryquitecontrary]

A bell rings, somewhere in the school.

Mary whirls around - she'd forgotten how long she'd been out here - and sees a figure standing in the servant's doorway.

A servant climbing the stairs or moving into the garden wouldn't catch Mary's attention in the least. A servant standing still, though, is something more rare.

A second of squinting into the dark, and her eyes fly wide open.

[river_meimei]

River's eyes lock with Mary's for a moment.

The tension is back; River's hand lifts sharply, palm out, in a gesture that's decisive if not precisely clear. With careful precise movements, she slips out the door, and closes it behind her with a nearly silent click.

[mistressmaryquitecontrary]

"Mr. Tam has not sent you here!" Mary exclaims - though she's sharp enough to try to modulate her usual loud tone of voice into something quieter. "How did you come?"

[river_meimei]

"I came."

River's voice is softer than Mary's, low and serious.

"Reconnaissance," she adds.

[mistressmaryquitecontrary]

"You said you would help," Mary says, remembering.

There's a small smile on her face, as she says it, before it fades back into a worried look. "But if you have come to bring me back it is more complicated than it was; there is a -"

What there is, it seems, is an interruption.

"Mary Lennox!"

[river_meimei]

River opens her mouth, her brows drawn a little together with something like worry.

But whatever she was going to say is abruptly lost as her head snaps around, the moment before the shout, and for a moment her whole body is gathered to flee--

And then her shoulders drop and so do her eyes, and her heels draw together and her hands clasp, and it's a disheveled servant girl standing in front of Miss Mary Lennox, her head bowed.

[mistressmaryquitecontrary]

Mary turns too, already on the defensive, her face altering from concerned to stubborn and silent.

The person approaching is tall and thin and female and impeccably dressed - an etiquette teacher, during the morning hours, and at other times a chaperone.

"Miss Lennox," she says, sharply, "you are meant to be in Monsieur Levardin's class at this very moment - and instead I find you out, unchaperoned, consorting with servants. What possible excuse can you have for this behavior?"

[river_meimei]

River's eyes flick sideways, under the straggling poof of her upswept hair, and back to the ground. Her head inclined, her feet together: deliberate, and just so.

"Sorry, mum."

That's not River's accent. It's halfway between the teacher's and a Dyton Colony accent -- Cockney, in other words, or close to it.

These aren't River's mannerisms, either.

"Came out for herbs, mum, and I got mixed up. The young miss pointed me right, mum. Didn't mean to make trouble."

[mistressmaryquitecontrary]

. . . that's not what River usually sounds like.

(River, it seems, Mary notes with some approval, is very good at disguises.)

Mary, who is not quite so good at disguises, or deception, cannot think of anything to say except to announce, stubbornly, "It is not her fault."

[river_meimei]

"You are not," Miss Stonewell snaps at the hapless servant girl, "to bother the young ladies under any circumstances. As you ought to know very well. What is your name?"

The servant girl doesn't look quite as cowed as she should; her eyes dart sideways and back down, and there's a hint of sullen, calculating independence in the lift of her chin. But her voice is appropriately docile when she says, "Becky, mum."

"Hannah shall hear about this," Miss Stonewell says darkly. "You may go about your business." That's less suggestion than order, before she turns her attention back to Mary.

[mistressmaryquitecontrary]

"She was not," Mary says, more loudly, "harassing me. I went and spoke to her. So you see it is not in the least her fault. I am allowed to speak to servants, aren't I? If I want things? That is what servants are for."

[river_meimei]

River can't say: It's okay, it's okay.

River can't say: Pick your battles, be careful--

River's hand fists at her side (and River is Becky, and she's been dismissed, and a servant wouldn't stay.)

It would probably be noticed if Miss Stonewell were to be knocked unconscious in the middle of the herb garden. Not to mention creating problems for Mary later.

River's hand fists, and her jaw tightens, but she slips a few yards away to crouch over a bed of lavender, her gaze darting back to Mary, and to Miss Stonewell's darkening scowl. "Do not be pert, Mary," the chaperone snaps. "I have yet to hear an excuse for your truancy and this behavior."

[mistressmaryquitecontrary]

Mary jerks her head and back up straighter than ever - in posture, if in nothing else, Mary is the very model of a proper English gentlewoman - and announces, "It is not truancy to want to see the spring. If you gave us more time outside we should be healthier - it is better for us than dancing is, anyways!"

[wolflord_andain]

"Miss Lennox."

The voice is crisp and cool, and coming from the nearer side of the garden.

"You would do well to apologize to Miss Stonewell for that bit of rudeness."

Winter-grey eyes cut to the aforementioned Stonewell, brows arching in what only looks like a question.

"And after, I suspect you and I shall have a chat about your missing translation, will we not?"

He does not look toward River at all.

[river_meimei]

River's head jerks up a little at the new voice, and her hands tighten and abruptly relax on a sprig of lavender.

But perhaps it will only look like 'Becky' is startled by the new arrival, and in any case River's face is turned away from Mary and her teacher. (Her gaze was cutting to both of them, quick and fretful and half-concealed. But now her eyes are fixed on the lavender, and some of the listening tension has dropped out of her shoulders.)

There are many things about Galadan that River still mistrusts; his skill at subtle misdirection has never been one of them.

[mistressmaryquitecontrary]

"It is not rudeness," Mary says, sullenly. "It is true."

Her eyes flick from Galadan to River - she won't be able to read what River's thinking about seeing Galadan, of course, she never can tell what people are thinking, but she can't help trying, anyways - and, seeing that River's still keeping up the servant act, return to Miss Stonewell.

"What missing translation?" she adds, rather indignantly. "I have done my work."

[wolflord_andain]

Miss Stonewell looks embarrassed for a moment before her face settles into stern lines. "Mary! That will be extra work in etiquette for you, speaking to Mr Wolfe so. It is hardly attractive behavior in a young lady."

Galadan's expression has shifted not a whit.

"Tacticus. I can, I suppose, see how you may have forgotten it, in light of all your other work. Though I had imagined one of my better students would not be so lax."

He pauses her, looking up at Miss Stonewell.

"Please, do not let us keep you. Miss Lennox and I will be discussing this matter on her way back to her dancing lessons."

[mistressmaryquitecontrary]

Mary has some sense of the requirements of subtlety.

If she were in Milliways, for example, she would respond to this, quite reasonably, that Mr. Wolfe does not care in the least if any of the young ladies are attractive. But she is not in Milliways, and so she snaps her mouth shut and glowers at Galadan instead - calling her a good student does not make up for creating imaginary missing work for her; he could surely have thought of a better excuse!

The discussion of this matter had better take a while.

[river_meimei]

Miss Stonewell hesitates a moment.

But Mr Wolfe seems to have the matter well in hand, and she has other business to attend to. Mary Lennox is not the only pupil who needs extra monitoring in this school, and now she has to make time to report to Hannah about the new servant girl's apparent inability to remember her place.

"Very well," she says to Galadan, the pinched irritation relaxing slightly. "Thank you."

"And you," she adds sternly to Mary, "shall see me later this evening. It seems you need some reminders of behavior proper to a young lady. Which, by the way, does not include screwing your face up in such a disagreeable manner."

"Good day, Mr Wolfe," she tells him, polite again, and sails off towards the back door (not the servants' one, of course) and her own work.

River, crouched over the lavender, watches the teacher depart, and her face is sober and hard to read.

[wolflord_andain]

Galadan remains silent until Miss Stonewell is out of earshot.

Then he flicks a quick glance at River, eyebrows raised.

It's not an entirely unexpected development, but it's hardly ideal, either.

"Subterfuge will, I fear, never be your forte, Mary."

[mistressmaryquitecontrary]

Mary flushes dull red.

"I do not want to lie," she mutters, rather embarrassed.

"I can sneak and be quiet and so on. I can even pick locks. Anyways," she adds, more loudly, "I did not give River away. Miss Stonewell was cross with me, but she always is, so it hardly matters."

This is perhaps an exaggeration, but.

[river_meimei]

"My name is Becky," River tells Galadan soberly.

This isn't a correction; an explanation, perhaps.

"The walls," she adds, softer, "are walls."

To Mary, seriously, "She's cranky." Whether this refers to Mary or to Miss Stonewell is up for interpretation.

[wolflord_andain]

"And shall I send you on another errand, Becky?"

He can probably think of one, depending on where she needs to go.

[mistressmaryquitecontrary]

"Everyone here," Mary says, glumly, "is either cranky or silly."

Which category Galadan falls into, NOBODY KNOWS.

[river_meimei]

River makes a slight face at Galadan.

It's at an angle such that no one looking from the school doors or windows could spot the expression, perhaps by design or perhaps merely fortunately.

"No," she says amiably. "I'll tell them you did."

Beat.

"I'm River," she adds. This is said helpfully; whether it's meant for Galadan or Mary isn't quite clear either.

[wolflord_andain]

One corner of his mouth twitches imperceptibly, then he inclines his head in a slight nod.

"It is somewhat unfortunate that I cannot gainsay Mary, at the moment."

More than somewhat, even.

"Still. Rest assured that it is bearable."

At least for him, for now. It's almost entertaining to thwart both the faculty's efforts at pinning him down and the girls' efforts to garner his attention.

Almost entertaining. His benevolence can only last so long.

[mistressmaryquitecontrary]

And Galadan has been here less than a week. Mary would like to point out that she has been enduring for months.

"It is better now that Galadan is here," Mary allows. "I am learning more, anyways, but how I should rather be home!"

[river_meimei]

River's eyes drop to Mary's hands; she nods a little.

"Surveillance," she says after a moment, and softer than before.

"Watch the subjective chronology."

[wolflord_andain]

"Needs must."

Galadan's voice is very dry.

"And how long may we expect your company, Becky?"

His lip twitches again, even more faintly this time.

[mistressmaryquitecontrary]

"I do not think you should be a servant here very long," Mary says, frowning faintly. "As you are not one normally I do not think you should find it pleasant."

[river_meimei]

"I'm not," River says seriously. "Just a face."

"Doesn't mean what they think."

Beat.

"No one is," she adds, still serious, and glances over at Galadan.

"I'm not supposed to consort with the young misses," she says with a rather different sort of solemnity, and pushes herself to her feet.

[wolflord_andain]

"Well enough," Galadan says, any and all amusement kept well out of his voice.

"Mary and I have much to discuss, as well."

[mistressmaryquitecontrary]

Mary turns to Galadan, and folds her arms, remembering her initial complaint.

"I do all the homework!"

[river_meimei]

"You don't dance," River says, with a fleeting half-smile.

Two steps towards them; she reaches out to brush gentle fingertips over Mary's sleeve, and slip a sprig of lavender between the younger girl's fingers.

And then she turns away.

[wolflord_andain]

Galadan, meanwhile, takes this time to address Mary's lax attitudes toward Greek and Latin.

At length.

Which unfortunately results in Mary missing the entirety of her dance lessons for the day.

Gideon Wolfe will apologize to the dancing master over dinner. It's only polite.