Wicked Winter Book. 1

❅ Chapter 4 ❅

With a swift nod, the woman set the steaming plate of food down and turned to leave.

"Wait!"

She froze, turning back to face me. "Yes, miss?"

"What time is it?" I asked.

She played with the hem of her apron. "Its half past five in the evening, miss."

I blinked, shocked. Half past five? I was asleep for over half the day.
The small woman stared at me, her eyes blinking expectantly, waiting for an answer. Or maybe a dismissal?

"Um, thank you. You can go now." She bowed slightly and ducked out the door, leaving me alone with a plate of food I wouldn't even eat.

* * * * * * *

For the next few days, life fell into a steady routine of hot meals that I wasn't hungry for and a plush bed that I couldn't stomach to lay in. Nobody but the small maid from earlier came to see me, and I didn't get much a view into the hallway outside my room when she left. All I could see from my chair in the corner of my room was royal red walls and golden candles flickering with pale orange light.

I woke up every morning to the Rising Bell's bays, surprised that it was even louder here than in my village. The booming rings shook the very foundation of the building I was in, causing small particles of dust to fall from my rock ceiling.

I hated this.

I felt like a prisoner, or a cave hermit or something. Best case scenario? I'd grow wings and become a vampire. At least then I wouldn't be suffering from a vitamin D deficiency.

On the third day - I think - I'd finally given in and lay curled in a tight ball on top the red comforter when a knock sounded at my door.

I'd barely touched the food the maid had broughten in the past couple days, and I wasn't that hungry. But the thought of finally talking to someone again sparked a flame of life into me. "Come in," I called.

The door creaked open, but it wasn't the small woman standing in the doorway.

There Sebastian stood, all dark and dangerous dressed in his black cloak and dark leather boots. His hair was ruffled, as if he'd just woken up, and eyes were hard. He wasn't happy.

"Get up, get dressed, and I'll be back in five minutes to come get you."
Stunned, I stared at him even as he turned and left.

I toyed with the idea of heading with him, or staying here. He couldn't make me leave. Suddenly I thought back to the rose scented gas.

Shit. Yes he could.

I jumped off my bed and shucked off my silky nightgown in rushed movements. For the first time since I'd arrived here in the Witch Academy, I stalked over to the wardrobe and flung open the doors. An extensive collection of black sweaters, tunics, cotton shirts and leather pants greeted me.

Why was everything black?

I understood the soldiers wearing their ebony uniforms, but why did all the witches wear this color?

I reached in and picked out a black long sleeve shirt with a high neck and tight leather pants. Also black. At the bottom sat two pairs of shoes: A pair of leather boots, and a pair of tuxedo shoes.

Bending down, I laced the dark boots up to my shins, grateful for a proper pair of shoes for the first time in my life. Using the strings from the tuxedo shoes, I tied my hair into a messy ponytail, letting my champagne hair fall over my right shoulder. I ran my fingers through the white strands, flinching when my fingers snagged on a knock. And my hair was greasy.