My new classmates were whispering and craning their necks toget a look at the new princess. I’d never felt so exposed. It was like the bad dream where I showed up at school naked.
After exiting the carriage and making sure my encanto’s robe was settled around me properly—over my tunic and pants and not gathered into my waistband or something—I started for the doors, conscious of everyone’s eyes on me. Some took care to give me a wide berth and scurry by as fast as they could, but others were perfectly comfortable with openly staring.
While I was walking, another calesa pulled in. This one was more like mine, except decorated with palm leaves and braided with ylang-ylang and white hooded orchids. It was also flanked on the sides and back by guards, though fewer than mine had been.
I was curious but not enough to gape. The doors of the academy opened in front of me, and I walked inside. As in the palace, there was intricate woodwork everywhere, and remarkably high ceilings, but somehow, the space still had the familiar aura of school. Maybe it was the steady hum of voices in the background from students and staff talking and making their way from room to room, combined with the faint smell of books and paper—leather and ink and dust—because there were no lockers or worn-out linoleum floors. If anything, it was what I imagined the ancient Library of Alexandria had looked like, except even more beautiful. None of my old high schools had floral displays or hand-carved stair banisters or— I stopped in my tracks. A group of butterflies was flitting around one of the flowerpots. I’d never seen butterflies indoors, but I chalked that up to just one more example of what a different place I was in now. I got closer for a better look. Their wings were enormous and almost glittery. I stepped forward and leaned down.
One of the wings smacked my cheek. I flinched and heard a tiny voice scold, “Do you mind?”
“I’m... sorry?” I stepped back. Sprites. Or more accurately, lambanas. My mother had told me about them, but I’d never quite believed they were real.
“So rude,” I heard one of their tiny voices exclaim.
I backed away, a bit stunned by what had just happened, and tried to look for my first class instead. Lots of students paraded past, colorful robes swishing around their feet. Mine was purple and yellow, the official colors of the Court of Sirena. Those wearing blue and white, I knew, were residents of the Court of Sigbin, and Elias had told me green and pink were for the Lambana Court, and maroon and black for the Court of Tikbalang. I didn’t see many wearing the Sirena colors, which was fine by me, because then I’d feel obligated to introduce myself, and for now I was only interested in getting my bearings. Surprisingly, they weren’t paying much attention to me anymore. I guess away from the royal calesa and with nothing to identify me as the crown princess, I was just another anonymous newbie in the hall. That, at least, I was used to.
While I was looking for room numbers, I heard a tinkling sound, like small bells or a wind chime. A few students started walking faster down one of the hallways.That must be the bell system,I thought. I saw a stairwell and decided to go up and hopefully find the fourth floor, the logical place for room 421.
The stairs only went up one flight, though. Hmm. I regretted not getting a map of the building, but I was so used to being able to access things like that on my phone that I hadn’t even thought of it. First day and already falling behind.
“Are you lost?”
It was a student who was obviously from the Sigbin Court standing there in her blue robes. Elias had warned me that the Sigbin kingdom was the most resentful of having to bow to the Sirena Court, and that he suspected the insurgents were from that kingdom, but without concrete evidence, he couldn’t make a formal accusation. Regardless, I was immediately on the defensive. First thing I noticed was the moon-shaped silver tiara perched on top of her jet-black hair streaked with midnight-blue highlights, which was pulled up into one of those complicated updos I admired but was never able to master. My ponytail felt really childish all of a sudden. I regretted turning down Jinky’s offer to do my hair and to wear the golden circlet traditionally worn by diwatas on their brow. “Uh...” I said, unsure if I wanted this person’s help.
“What room are you looking for?” She walked over to me and snatched the schedule out of my hands to study it. “Oh, wow, you have to take Hayop at Halaman? That’s a remediary fauna-and-flora class for first-years.”
“You mean ‘remedial’?” I corrected her. Normally I wouldn’t, but who comments on someone being behind in school to begin with?
She screwed up her face with distaste. “What? No. It’s definitely ‘remediary.’ ” She shook her head and pushed the paper back at me. “You’ll have to go upstairs for Intro to History.”
“Yeah, I figured. Thanks.” I began to walk away from her. She clearly didn’t know who I was, and that was fine. Hopefully our paths wouldn’t cross again.
“Don’t you want to know where it is?” she called, as if she was the one who was insulted by this whole interaction.
I turned around, just to avoid any more bad blood, and forced a smile. “Sure.”
“Left at the next hall, all the way down, then left again,” she said sweetly. “There’s a door that leads to the fourth-floor stairs.”
“Thanks,” I said, and walked away again.
“No problem,” she crooned.
I rolled my eyes as soon as she couldn’t see me.
At the next hall, I went left, and then left again, as she’d said. There were no other students around, so I was really lost this time. Finally, I saw the door she was talking about. There was a gold plaque that saidTo Fourth Floorwith arrows pointing up. Relieved, I reached out to open it.
Next thing I knew, I was falling forward, with nothing but vast darkness underneath me. I held on to the door handle, but I was losing my grip fast, and I knew I was about to drop into whatever that void was.
Someone grabbed on to my cloak just in time and yanked me back. We both stumbled and collapsed into a heap on the floor.
I jumped up quickly and looked to see who’d saved me. A mousy little thing with glasses perched on the end of her nose stood up. She wore a Lambana gown, with silver flats poking out beneath it.
She curtsied stiffly, pushed her thin shoulder-length hair behind her ears, and said, “Hello, Your Highness. Um, I heard your conversation back there, and, maybe it’s not my place to interfere, but, um, Lady Oscura was lying to you. She sent you to the refuse shaft. It’s for waste incineration and experiments gone wrong.”
I should have known.
“Lady Oscura doesn’t like hapcantos,” she added, grimacing. “You know, half-human and half-encanto?”
Oh. I guess I needed to add bigotry to the list of things to deal with in Biringan. That also meant the girl—Lady Oscura—didknow who I was when she was talking to me like that. And if this girl hadn’t been around, what might’ve happened to me? I felt like such a fool. A fool who almost got incinerated. Was this just a prank, or another attempt on my life?
