The Art of Imagination

Chapter 7

“Madam Matilda said you can do what you want until lunchtime.” Amelia had led Ingrid back to their room in haste. “I have to go meet somebody by then as well so I’ll take you to her office. Meet me there at quarter past.”

“Yes, of course . . . but – but what exactly am I supposed to do?” Ingrid asked blankly. “I don’t really know my way around.”

“Perfect opportunity to learn,” she said simply, turning to leave.

“Wait!” Ingrid scolded herself internally for speaking out again. She started twisting her fingers nervously, casting her gaze to the floor. She’d never really had friends before so she wasn’t quite sure how to make one. The least she could do to get onto good terms with Amelia was apologise. Didn’t they always do this in books?

“I’m sorry,” Ingrid started, glancing up with a sincere expression. “I have not been around people often and I have never made friends before. I am sorry for how I spoke to you this morning. I’ve only ever spoken to maids before, apart from my family. No one else.”

If she wasn’t mistaken, it was sympathy that melted Amelia’s mask of hostility. Her blue eyes scrutinised Ingrid for several long moments. “I forgive you. It must be all new territory for you here.”

Ingrid nodded shyly. She felt completely out of place, so uninformed and unknowing at the academy. She didn’t know how to behave around others, how to treat them as if they were friends. Only in books had she ever encountered such situations. Without her numerous times spent in the library reading books, Ingrid was sure she would have ended up repelling the entire academy or worse.

“I will see you in a few hours. There are no classes today but you are welcome to go visit any professors you might find. They’re all very devoted Imaginists.” Amelia’s tone was softer now, kinder. Ingrid made a mental note never to use her maid voice again. She would hate it if others received the impression that she thought very highly of herself.

“Thank you, Amelia.” The older girl didn’t reply but Ingrid knew she’d heard.

Alone in her room again, she glanced around, eyes landing upon the line of suitcases by her bed. Well, she had a lot of unpacking to do, before anything really.

Madam Darlington’s Academy consisted of a series of buildings lined side by side, curving inwards to create a vast courtyard at the centre. The dormitories were located on either side of a jutting building which just so happened to be the dining hall, an intermediary connection between the dorms.

Ingrid was noting these details down onto a pad of paper she’d found in her bags. For the past hour, she’d been trying to sketch a rough diagram of the Academy in an attempt to find her way around. She was definitely no artist but at least she could read her own poor mapping skills.

Glancing up, Ingrid started annotating the signs bolted to the cold stone walls. So far, all the doors on the ground floor had been labelled with a ‘P’ followed by a number. That was easy to remember.

As she shuffled into one of the foyers of a rather large building, she noticed a pair of staircases, each leading up to the next floor in opposite directions. They were connected by a wide walkway at the centre above her.

“’Scuse me, Miss, but you look a bit lost.” Ingrid’s ears perked at the voice. She was aware of the fact that the girl to boy ratio at the school was vastly outnumbered so there was no doubt the voice was addressing her.

“I’m just trying to find my way around,” she told him with a smile. “Which way do you recommend I go?” She pointed left then right with the tip of her pencil.