Princess at Heart (The Rosewood Chronicles)

Princess at Heart: Part 3 – Chapter 35



When they awoke on the morning of the Presentation of the Pillars, the Ivy common room had been transformed. Poems written in curly script hung on string and nestled in the petals of pretend flowers, quotes from diverse feminist literature were chalked on to the walls, and statues of deer made from words frolicked in the courtyard.

And that was only the beginning. The whole of Rosewood lay covered in bright streamers and bunting, fragrant petals and scented candles, all purple, yellow and red to represent the three houses. The school and grounds displayed whimsical and painstaking tributes to the namesakes of Rosewood’s houses and each piece had the name of the student who’d created it proudly at its side.

Lottie didn’t have much time to explore the other works with Samuel accompanying her. She popped in briefly to Stratus Side and Conch House to see everyone’s tributes. Someone had organized flowers that hung on trellises on either side of the Stratus tower, each symbolic of Shray and Sana’s work. Less tastefully a student at Conch House had fashioned a decapitated wolf’s head and placed it on a spike by the bronze statue of Saxon the bear, an ode to Balthazar who’d supposedly taken on a wolf in the woods to save a fellow student. Despite knowing that the wolf was the villain in the tale, she felt a little sorry for it.

Its snarling face reminded Lottie of the knocker on the doors of the palace and it made her think of Jamie and Ellie. They didn’t growl because they were angry or mean; they did it because they were scared. Lottie reached up to the growling head and stroked its nose.

‘It’s going to be OK,’ she promised. Satisfied, Lottie headed off, ready to present her piece.

At eleven in the morning, students from Lottie’s year made their way into Rosewood’s main hall, the whole room smelling of pastries and candied fruits from an array of edible tributes, including an uncanny recreation of Elwin, Ryley and Saxon in miniature. Lottie was not surprised to find Lola’s and Micky’s names next to them.

Her own tribute was up on the platform, hidden under a cover, with each house mother standing like a guard round it. Even Professor Croak had made an appearance, sniffing curiously round the confectionary table, spindly fingers fidgeting with the effort of not reaching out to pinch a piece.

Lottie saw Ellie and her friends huddled together with Samuel poised nearby as she went to stand beside Professor Devine, anticipation spreading over the room.

Professor Devine turned to her, her silk cloak sweeping a wave of expensive perfume in Lottie’s direction. ‘Lottie, this is excellent. If you’re ready, we’d be delighted for you to present your William Tufty tribute.’

‘Yes, I’m ready but –’ Lottie looked out over the crowd of students gathered, singling out Ellie instantly like the moon in a clear sky – ‘I have something I’d like to say about it, if I may.’

This seemed to please the professor, whose lips twitched into what could almost be described as a smile.

Beneath the platform a slow wave of hush spread over the students. All the students had one thing in common: Rosewood, a world built by her ancestor, and now, standing on the podium, Lottie felt an obligation to continue the work that Liliana had started.

‘Before I present the tribute to our school’s founder, I have a few words I want to share.’ Waiting until everyone was listening, she twirled the ends of her hair.

‘William Tufty believed deeply in the importance of humanity bringing out the best in each other. This is why they established the three pillars that each house is built upon. Righteous, resolute and resourceful. Each has its own merit, but when you combine the three, amazing, magical things can be achieved.’

Lottie saw Binah nodding along.

‘Tufty also believed in duality, in the power of shouting about your beliefs, and staying quiet to allow others to come forward.’ She stopped, pulling the dust sheet away to reveal her piece.

A great gasp, like a firework whizzing up into the air, flew across the hall as students and teachers looked at Lottie’s work. Slowly the sound was replaced with murmurs of wonder and delighted chirping.

Held in a gilded frame that shone the colour of the stars, the work was painted in a pre-Raphaelite style to pay homage to William’s hidden identity and the many secrets he’d scattered among the school. The colours were rich marigolds and gothic golds that moved together in a Catherine wheel of colour. Two figures blended into one another – the masculine figure of William Tufty and the feminine figure by its side, its face obscured by beautiful shades of gold.

Once the whispers died down, Lottie continued. ‘This duality is what I wanted to show in the painting. The two sides of our founder in harmony. They are wild and measured, passionate and tranquil, loud and soft. You might say they are a vixen and a delicate mouse, one of my favourite rhymes growing up.’

Looking over the crowd, her eyes locked on to Ellie’s because she wanted her to know that the next words were for her. ‘I hope with this painting that I can encourage people to not only strive to bring out the best in each other, but to explore how others can change them, and how we can all grow into better people for us having known them. I think that’s what William Tufty would have wanted for us, and that’s what I want to share with you all in this piece. Thank you. And I think you’re allowed to eat the cakes now.’

Lottie didn’t bask in the applause. She ran down the steps straight to Ellie. She flung herself into her arms, the two of them embracing like their bodies were thirsty for each other. ‘What did you think?’ she asked, still clinging on.

Ellie pulled away first, holding Lottie by her shoulders at a distance, looking her up and down. ‘I’m so proud of you, Lottie,’ she said with complete sincerity. ‘You’re going to do such amazing things in this world.’ Lottie felt like she had become the painting, that Ellie was taking note of every detail, wanting to burn it into her memory. ‘I’m really glad we got to have this time together.’

Something had sneaked its way into Ellie’s voice, a small crack that Lottie couldn’t pin down. But then Ellie tilted her head to the side, inky-black hair dusting her pale cheekbones. ‘It reminds me of us,’ she announced. ‘You know, at the ball. The first time we danced together.’ She let out a sigh that made Lottie’s chest ache where the wolf lay over it. ‘That was one of the best times of my life.’

It was the most perfect thing that Ellie could have ever said.

‘I feel the same way,’ she replied.

But then the moment disappeared and Ellie put back on her mask.

‘God, I can’t believe I have to do that again next year for their stupid Golden Flower Festival 2019 edition,’ she said.

Lottie froze, watching Ellie laughing. It wasn’t the joke that caught her off guard; it was the date.

‘What did you just say?’

‘Next year, the Golden Flower Festival,’ Ellie said. ‘Remember? They’re still going ahead with it.’

Lottie felt the warmth drain out of her. There was something in what Ellie had said and she needed to figure it out right now.

‘Ellie, I’m just going to excuse myself for a second.’ Ellie’s hand curled round hers. ‘I promise I’ll be back soon.’ And she meant it. ‘And then I’ll tell you everything. I think …’ She paused, not sure how to phrase this in a way that wouldn’t put Ellie on high alert again. ‘I think I’ve found something that could help your family find Jamie,’ she said instead, knowing that they wanted to keep her out of it.

Ellie’s fingers tightened, the two of them melting like clay into one another where their skin met. ‘Don’t worry about it. We have to do what we have to do, right?’

There was still that something in the way Ellie held on to her, the way she stared at her.

‘Yes …’ Lottie trailed off, lost in the way Ellie’s eyes bored into her.

And, just like that, Ellie let go and a gap came between them like a rift in the earth as her Partizan disappeared into the crowd.

Deep in her own thoughts, Lottie failed to notice that Samuel didn’t follow her.


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