LTSV - Side Stories - 1 - Cecily's First Day at Breckenridge 1/4 (Patreon)

Cecily’s first day at Breckenridge Academy was the most magical spring day that you could possibly imagine. The Capitol's pear trees and lilacs were in full bloom, filling the air with heady aroma and delicate flying petals. Tulips lined nearly every city street and the sky was dotted with picturesque scudding clouds that cast large meandering shadows across the city.

Freshman Orientation Day took place about a week before the beginning of classes, as the new students moved into the dorms and learned their way around the sprawling campus. The campus buildings were all built out of uniform sandy gold stone with blue slate roofs that contrasted beautifully against the old growth trees that shaded the many flagstone paths and quiet garden spaces of the school grounds.

Father had sent Archie and Fergie ahead that morning on the carriage. Cecily had still had a few chores to finish up around the house before she left for the semester, so she and her trunk had to take the Omnibus. It was fine, she made it to campus in good time to drop her luggage off with the porters at the girls dormitory and still get to the guided tours on time. She’d had to skip lunch and so was hoping the tour wouldn’t go on too long. There was a ham sandwich and a bottle of lemonade in her skirt pocket that were calling her name. She’d meant to eat on the ‘bus, but had ended up constantly having to move her trunk to let people get past.

The school tour groups met in front of Breckenridge Hall, a grand building that contained all the faculty offices and stood proudly opposite the enormous wrought iron entrance gates, so it would be hard for the new students to get lost. Just in case, the Student Council had set up large signs to direct the incoming class to various events all over campus. The signs had been trimmed with flower arrangements and crepe banners that danced in the wind.

Cecily found the sign up sheet on a small table by the steps leading up to the Hall, which was being manned by a familiar face. “Randall!” the name slipped out of her before she could think better of it.

Randall had been her best friend when they were little, until he suddenly stopped tagging along with his father to visit Rousseau House and she stopped being allowed to go out without permission. It had been devastating to lose him as a friend and it wasn’t until years later, when she had a chance to ask Randall’s father what had happened, that she learned it was her stepfather who was responsible for the schism.

Lord Zorander had been on his way out of Father’s office and Cecily had volunteered to walk him out. On the way, the question just bubbled out of her, “My Lord, this may be impertinent, but—I was wondering if you could tell me why Randall stopped answering my letters? I want to apologize if I’ve offended him, but…”

Lord Zorander cut her off by holding up a hand. He looked around to see if they were being watched. “Put it out of your mind, child,” he said quietly. “It was none of your doing. Your stepfather expressed a concern to me that the two of you had become inappropriately close. I did not agree, but I cannot dictate how a man raises his children or who he allows into his house. Randall was never angry with you.”

Cecily could still remember how hot her face got when she finally understood what Lord Zorander was telling her. Father had implied—she could hardly imagine what he’d implied! And to Lord Zorander!! That man was practically her uncle!

Randall looked up from his papers and for a second, she thought he wouldn’t recognize her. All of a sudden, she was only too aware of her second-hand and ill-fitting uniform and her unflattering, country girl hair style. She’d worn it half-up in a bow until a year or so ago when suddenly her father had decided she was trying to look too ‘grown.’ He’d ordered her to wear it pulled back in a ‘flapper’ braid, with brown gingham bows at the back of her head and end of her braid that made both her hair and complexion look dingy. Usually, she didn’t think about that. 

Suddenly, that was all she could think about.

Recognition lit Randall’s pale green eyes and he stood up. Oh. Oh, he'd gotten tall. His frame had filled out, going from a weedy little boy to a lean and athletic young man. He'd always been handsome. The Zoranders didn't make ugly babies, but now Cecily could see the shape of the adult he'd become one day.

“Cece! I thought you might be starting this year, but I wasn’t sure if…” he trailed off, unable to voice the thing that they both knew. “...I’m happy to see you again,” he said after an awkward pause.

Father had started getting angry about sending Cecily to school when she was still going to the day school. That was compelled by law, so he didn’t have any choice about it. If Cecily didn’t go, then there would have been a visit from the Truancy Court and nobody wanted that. That didn’t stop him from fulminating on the ‘inherent futility of trying to educate the uneducatable’ at the breakfast table while Archie and Fergie kicked each other under the table. 

“I had a recommendation from my day school teachers,” Cecily explained. “They volunteered to do my entrance applications for me and one of them passed me some of her daughter’s old uniforms. Father bought my books.”

“Ah,” Randall said in a tone that told her he understood, but he didn’t because Cecily had just fibbed. 

She hated having to lie to Randall as soon as they were reunited, but Cecily had actually bought her books herself with wages from her lacemaking. She’d also bought her regulation shoes, stockings, underpinnings, hats, gloves, and bookbag. All her father had actually done was sign a few permission forms and locate a dusty old trunk from the attic. So far as he was concerned, she’d received all her school supplies as a gift from her day school and she didn’t dare tell anyone the truth. If Father learned that she was making money, he’d have her handing over all her earnings for ‘safekeeping’ the same as any other cash gift she’d gotten since Mama went away. 

“I came for the tours,” she changed the subject. “Do I sign up here? And aren’t you also a freshman this year?”

“Yes, yes. I had my orientation early as part of my Duelling Club activities. My brothers vouched for me so the Student Council decided to put me to work,” Randall chuckled. 

Cecily had heard that some legacy club members got preferential treatment like that. They were able to move in early with the upperclassmen and got special orientation events from their seniors. Archie and Fergie were in the Duelling Club too, which was the bedrock of the Rousseau-Zorander alliance.

Father had expressly forbidden Cecily from joining any club that required materials or dues, which included the Duelling Club, so she was entering school with the majority of the student body. 

Randall held up a little booklet for her to look at. “The Upperclassmen are running the tours. Let’s see—Senior Coventry has room in her group. She’s leading the girls-only group. I’ll sign you up for her next tour.”

Cecily tried not to let the relief show on her face. Archie was known to lead school activities for the Student Council on occasion and Fergie would accompany him, despite having been held back a year. If they had been running a tour and she’d ended up in their group—it didn’t bear thinking about.

“That’s Senior Coventry over there,” Randall continued to explain and indicated a sylph-like girl standing in the shade across the broad path.

Senior Coventry was talking to a few of Cecily’s future classmates. 

She stood poised with her weight on one foot and her other knee slightly bent so that the tip of her other shoe rested elegantly on the ground. She had one forearm resting against her narrow waist with her fingertips resting on her hip and the other arm bent at the elbow as she ran her fingertips along the column of her neck. She wore her silvery hair in elegant low coils at the nape of her neck and a side parting that draped dramatically over one side of her face in front. The uniform code forbade dangling earrings, so she had a set of lovely blue agate cameo studs. Her figure made their unflattering uniforms (boxy black jumper dresses with square bolero jackets and calf-length pleated skirts over black stockings and black button-up boots) look delicate and fashionable. She also had a rose corsage with a trailing ribbon pinned to her collar, marking her as a designated helper for the orientation event. 

Cecily’s breath caught as Senior Coventry happened to glance in her direction and their gazes met. 

She had arresting purple eyes; true Royal Amethyst. Cecily didn’t remember the Coventrys being one of the Royal Lineages, but clearly she had some relation. Cecily didn’t think anyone but the immediate Royal descendants had eyes that purple. After the startling shade of her eyes, Cecily noticed how delicate and doll-like the girl’s features were; she had a perfect heart-shaped face with rosebud lips and a complexion like fresh cream touched with the faintest blush of pink along her cheekbones.

She looked like everything Cecily wanted to be (confident, beautiful, and respected) and had never dared to dream of achieving. 

“Go on, then,” Randall laughed as Cecily stood there gobsmacked. “The next tour will start soon. We’ll catch up later. I’ll find you at the Welcome Dinner. We’re allowed to mix genders at meals.”

“O-oh?” Cecily stammered. “I’ll see you then, in that case.”

Senior Coventry had turned her attention away by the time Cecily gathered her wits and went over to join the other girls waiting for the next tour. One of them, a sweet-faced girl with curly pink hair just like Cecily’s and robin’s egg blue eyes, smiled when she saw Cecily approach. She waved and called out, “Oh, hello! Come stand with me! I haven’t got a partner yet.”

Cecily was so happy to see a friendly face that she went straight over. “Hello!” she greeted the girl. “I’m Cecily.”

“My name is Viola,” the girl said, holding her hand out for a shake that Cecily gladly accepted. “Are you related to the Coventrys or the Sheppards? I swear, I felt like I’d just looked in a mirror when I saw you approaching. If it weren’t for your hair, I would have reached out to touch the glass.”

The good feelings bubbling up in Cecily’s chest dimmed for a second as she touched her braid, feeling self-conscious all at once. Was it really that bad? “O-oh, I thought the same. I’m Cecily Rousseau and my mother was a Fairleigh.”

“Oh?” Viola crinkled her nose and it was hard to hold onto those awkward feelings when she looked cute as a button. She wore her hair in a soft pompadour fixed with a satin ribbon that had been wound into the hair tucked into a roll at the base of her neck. “Well, the aristocracy is all related at some level so twins from different mothers have to happen sometimes. I’m Viola Coventry. It’s a pleasure to meet you!”

“Coventry, like…” Cecily found her gaze creeping towards their senior again, but was brought up short when Viola nodded. 

“She’s my second eldest sister,” she explained. “I came by to take the tour and see if there was anything I missed during my club orientation. Violet has been all over the campus. She served as the Student Council Administrative Secretary last year, so she’ll have an answer to just about any question we can think of to ask, unless it’s about a club. She’s always got her nose in a book and is too busy studying to socialize. I promise she’s really not as cold as she seems.”