Tower Of Thorns Read online

  "Pleased to meet you. Where did you have in mind for tea?" So far, I haven't seen much of the academy. I was supposed to have a student guide, but Mother put a stop to that, she probably thought it'd stop me making friends. It appears she's wrong if today is anything to go by.

  "There's a room for taking tea down the hall, we'll go there," she suggests.

  I nod. "That sounds lovely, thank you." Hope blooms in my chest. Grimm Academy is going to be everything I want it to be and more. Especially now I'm meeting people.

  My life is about to begin, and I can't be more excited about it than I am now.

  Chapter Two

  The room is full of students, and as soon as I enter, I find myself wondering if they're all looking at me. I can't explain why. Especially because they aren't.

  "This is where we normally sit," Ella says, gesturing to circle of comfortable chairs around a low table. A tall bookshelf filled with cracked leather spines rises to the ceiling beside it. From the look of the books, no one bothers trying to read them. Maybe one day, I'll feel confident enough to ask someone about it, but right now, I know that isn't the first thing on anyone's mind.

  "How are you finding Grimm?" Marigold asks, flicking her long dark hair over her shoulder. Well, long for most people, but it's nothing compared to the length of my own plait.

  "It's taking some getting used to," I admit. "I don't know anyone here, and it feels like every time I turn around there's more unfamiliar faces."

  "Well, now you have at least three you can call friends," Marigold says.

  Despite myself, a small chuckle escapes. "You've only just met me, you may not even like me."

  Marigold shrugs. "Ella's a good judge of character, I'm sure she's right about you."

  I glance at the curly-haired girl. She shrugs. "I am an excellent judge of people," she admits. She turns her attention to gesturing to one of the servants and ordering some tea and cakes for the four of them.

  "How are you finding lessons?" the other girl, Helena, asks.

  "Fascinating," I admit. "I've never been to an academy before." Or even a smaller school, but I decide to keep that piece of information to myself.

  "I don't think any of us have ever been anywhere like Grimm before," Marigold puts in.

  "That's for certain," Ella agreed. "Before I came here, my Father taught me most of what I know." She touches a watch on a chain around her neck fondly as she speaks. I wonder where she got it from? Potentially her Father if her actions are anything to go by. Even if she's decided we're friends, it's too early for me to ask probing questions like that.

  "My Mother did the same," I say, deciding that opting for the truth is the best course of action. If I end up being friends with these girls for longer, then lies will come out. "But she focused mostly on things like cooking and cleaning." The words are out before I can stop them. Perhaps I shouldn't let them know about things like that. They may think I'm a simple country girl.

  Then again, I suppose that is what I am.

  "My Father's wife insisted on the same for me," Ella admits, her lip curling up as she says it. "She hates me and was over the moon that she could get rid of me. Both her daughters are still at home." She sighs loudly.

  "Does that bother you?" Helena asks.

  Ella shakes her head. "Father writes to me every week, and I write to him. I'm sure he'll come visit next time they have a family day. And this way, I can avoid all the tasks that are meant to punish me."

  "Oh you poor thing, that's awful," Marigold exclaims. "How can they possibly make you do the cooking?"

  A bemused smile spreads over Ella's face. "You really have led a sheltered life, haven't you?"

  Marigold frowns. "Is it normal to cook?" She looks at Helena, looking for some kind of reassurance.

  "I used to go down to the kitchens, yes," Helena admits.

  "But you're a princess," Marigold protests. "We're not supposed to do things like that."

  "It's fun," Helena promises. "We can see if we can do some at some point."

  Marigold screws her face up in concentration, no doubt thinking through what the others have said. I stay silent. There's nothing I can say when these three girls are clearly already good friends. I'm simply an extra they've picked up for whatever reason. Not that I'm complaining too much. If they keep me around, I'll be glad of it, all three of them seem nice, even if Marigold seems a little spoiled.

  "All right, I'll trust you on that," Marigold says. "But only if the three of you come with me. I don't want to do it wrong."

  "You won't," Helena assures her. "We won't let it go badly wrong."

  "I hope you're right." Marigold's attention drifts to the window. "I may go for a walk later."

  "It looks like it might rain, though," Ella counters. "Or do you just want to use it as an excuse to go watch the jousting. You know I'll come with you if that's the case," she teases.

  Marigold laughs uncomfortably. I wonder what that's about, but I don't ask. Instead, it seems like a better idea is to change the subject and rescue her from the awkwardness.

  "We're allowed to watch the jousting?" I ask.

  Ella nods. "Not many people bother during practice, but some do. They hold tournaments sometimes too. It's one of the only times we see the Huntsmen near the castle."

  "Aren't they supposed to take lessons here too, though?" I ask. Even with my limited education at Mother's knee, I know about the Huntsmen. They're supposed to be the best of the best when it comes to protection, tracking, and hunting things down, but they aren't known for their sparkling personality.

  "I think so," Ella admits. "But once they accept someone down there, they don't come back. There's a girl trying to get down with them at the moment."

  I'm cut off from asking about it by the arrival of the tea. "I'm sorry about the delay, my ladies," the servant says as she sets it down.

  "It's not a problem," Ella assures her. "We have time."

  A relieved look crosses the servant's face, and I wonder who has made her feel as if it's her fault that she's busy.

  "Thank you, my ladies." She dips into a series of curtsies to each of us.

  I find it odd that we're encouraged not to use titles for one another, and yet the servants treat us this way. I suppose its probably because almost all of the students here are from noble or rich families, with the odd person who is here on a scholarship.

  And then of course, there's me. I'm not sure how Mother managed to get me into Grimm Academy, and the more time I spend here, the more confused I am about it. We're not rich. Or at least, I don't think we are. I do have a prophecy about me, but with Mother bribing the staff here, I don't think it's possible that I'm here on a scholarship.

  It's probably best if I don't mention it to anyone. I don't want them to look into it too much for fear of them deciding I don't belong here. I'm only just starting to make friends. I don't want to ruin it.

  The servant girl bustles off to deal with one of the other tables. Ella pours the tea and passes it out to each of us. I smile to her in thanks.

  The girls slip into the easy conversation that comes from having known one another for as long as they have. At first, it feels odd, but they keep asking me things and bringing me back into the conversation. I appreciate it. There are no set years at Grimm Academy, and students start at any point up until their twentieth birthdays. I'm not sure what any of them do after that if they still need an education, but I guess I may find out in a few years. Because of that, it's difficult to make friends. I'm sure part of that is why they have the student guide system, but thanks to Mother, there wasn't one for me.

  It's a shame, but perhaps in a few months I'll be able to sign up to be one myself and meet people that way. For now, I don't think it matters. Ella and her friends are making me welcome, and that's all I can ask for right now. I'm sure Mother wants to use Grimm Academy as another way to control me, but she'd going to find it's going to make it harder.

  Chapter Three

  The sun sh
ines through the window of my tower room, illuminating everything around me. I make my way to it and stare out into the grounds. It's a beautiful day, and students are milling around talking to one another and possibly even flirting. The academy does nothing to stop that, except tell us all about a supposedly strict rule where we're not allowed in one another's rooms. It doesn't work, and they never do anything to actually enforce it.

  A knock pulls me from my thoughts, and I spin around, my waist-length hair swinging around behind me. It's risky even letting my hair be this long, but it's not going to have anyone climbing up it if it's only just past my waist. Plus, I don't think my neck can support the weight of a person. I'm almost certain that part of my prophecy has been fabricated by Mother.

  I rush towards the door, my heart beating fast as I think about who is waiting behind it. Another way I'm playing with fire. But I don't want to give in. I can't stop living my life because of the words of a silly prophecy. I pull the door open, and a smile lights up my face. One that's echoed on the handsome face looking back at me.

  "Rapunzel," he says softly. "I didn't think you'd let me in."

  "Why wouldn't I?" I cock my head to the side, studying him and trying to work out why he thinks I wouldn't want him in my room. It's against the Academy rules, I know that, but where's the fun in always keeping to them? "I invited you."

  "Most girls still wouldn't risk it."

  I laugh freely. "I'm not most girls." I sweep back and gesture for him to enter. "I had the maids bring some tea already."

  "How did you manage that?"

  I shrug. "They ask no questions, and I tell no lies."

  "They're stricter in the boys' dormitories, I think," he says, taking a seat on one of the two armchairs I have by the fire. "The rooms are a lot smaller, too."

  "Most of the girls' are too," I admit. "It's only because I have the tower room that I have enough space for this setup," I say as I sit down in the other chair. I don't mention that Mother insisted on this room. I'm sure she pays handsomely for it, and for the staff to turn a blind eye to her weekly visits too. Secretly, I've always wondered why they do that, when it's so obviously part of the prophecy they're trying to help me avoid. The headmistress implied that the prophecies about us all aren't well known, but I find it hard to believe. Not when almost all the students here have one.

  "So, why did you let me in?" Gavin asks.

  "Because sometimes, you have to live on the edge." That seems to be a safer answer than that I like him. I don't know him well enough for that yet. I lean back in my chair and take a sip of tea. Maybe he won't like that I'm so forward, but if that's the case, then he can walk out of the door and never come back. I'm not a princess, I'm not even a noble, though Mother would have everyone believe differently, I haven't been trained to sit patiently beside a husband my whole life, and it's not something I'm going to teach myself to do either. I'm my own person, and if the man I end up with doesn't accept that, then he's not worthy of me in the first place.

  He chuckles. "And what will happen to us if we're caught?"

  I shrug. "No idea, I've never heard of it happening, and I highly doubt we're the first people to meet in secret." I suspect most of the students here at Grimm Academy have broken it at one time or other. That's the problem with being in a place full of royals, they always think they can do whatever they want. And in a way, they can. Grimm tries to put us all on an even playing field by removing titles, but it doesn't work like that. We all know one another's titles, even if we don't use them.

  Not that I'm complaining too much. Because of them, the rest of us aren't particularly watched either, something I plan to take complete advantage of. Courting in public has never been my style.

  "So, do you have a prophecy?" he asks.

  I set my teacup down and nod. "Do you?" I shouldn't ask. Then again, nor should he. Most people are encouraged to keep their prophecies to themselves in case anyone tries to do something to hasten it. As far as I'm aware, there are strict punishments associated with doing that, and I'm not inclined to bring one of those on myself.

  "Kind of," he admits. I appreciate that he's willing to talk about it, I don't imagine all of the boys here would.

  "Want to elaborate?"

  He looks around, as if expecting there to be someone listening in to our conversation. "I'm one of the rare ones," he says. "You know the ones where love is involved?"

  My eyes widen and a small dart of panic rushes through me. Why is he here if his prophecy involves love? No one is foolish enough to start the process of falling if it can lead to consequences outlined to us. I'm not sure how the prophecies work, but as far as I'm aware, once they've started, there's no turning back.

  Except, who am I to judge? His isn't the only prophecy involving love, I can't admonish him for doing the same thing as I am. I've known for as long as I can remember that my prophecy involves falling in love. Perhaps it’s different now I'm considering other people as part of my recklessness.

  "What happens in it?" I ask, despite knowing I shouldn't. I've already spent enough time with Gavin to know I'm probably not going to be able to stop it, even if our prophecies do influence one another.

  "I'm not all that sure," he admits sheepishly. "I was told when I was a kid, but I was that normal annoying boy who didn't listen to anything the grown-ups said."

  A small laugh escapes me, and I flick my hair over my shoulder. That means it isn't likely we share a prophecy, if we did, then the indicators in mine would have triggered his memory already. At least, I think.

  "Why didn't you ask anyone after that?"

  "It felt stupid to admit I didn't pay attention to something so important." A slight blush colours his cheeks, though he does his best to hide it.

  "I get that." I lean forward and place my hand over his. It's warm and comforting in a way I've never experienced before.

  "What about you?" he asks after a moment. "Did you pay attention?"

  I nod. "I had to. It was only Mother and me for a long time, and she'd tell me the story every night to try and get it through my head. Eventually, I learned it by heart." Though it isn't a particularly nice story for any girl to hear. The first time I fall in love, I'm going to get my heartbroken. Though saying the first time makes it sound like I'll have a chance at it again. My prophecy doesn't allow for that, as I'm sure Gavin's doesn't either.

  "Do you believe in them?" he asks.

  I pause for a moment, considering what he's asking. "No one's ever asked me that." Everyone talks about them as if they're fact, I always assume it's because they are. Though there are ways to avoid them, thankfully.

  "Me neither. But it's something I've been wondering since I came here. It could all be a way of keeping our generation in check." He shrugs. "I don't see how it'd work, but I like to explore my own options."

  "What about the older prophecies and legends?" I ask. "Goldilocks was said to be one of the Huntsmen..."

  "That's only a legend," he points out. "No one knows if it’s true."

  "I'd like to think it is," I counter. "The first woman to gain entry into the all-male Huntsmen, it's something out of a children’s story." I idolised the woman growing up. I'm not sure her legacy is supposed to have lived on the way it has, but she's an inspiration to all the girls who want to forge their own path and not one created for them by their parents.

  "All right. It seems likely that the prophecies are real."

  "We have to at least treat them that way," I point out. "The last thing we should be doing is ignoring them and just letting them happen to us. There are too many other things to do with a life."

  "Like what?" he asks.

  I shake my head. "I don't know yet. Perhaps I'll be a stateswoman, or the right-hand woman to a Queen." I sigh wistfully. I hope I get my chance to make a difference in the world.

  "Your eyes light up when you talk about it," he observes.

  "I can't help it," I admit sheepishly. "I like the idea that we can be more than what the pr
ophecies, or our parents, say we are."

  "So, you think we can be?" Hope shines through his words.

  Ah. I see. He may not have paid attention to the content of his prophecy, but even knowing he has one has put a dampener on his life.

  "I don't want to live my life in fear. And if that means I have to believe I can do crazy things in order to make that come true, then I'm going to do it."

  It's easy to read the emotions in his eyes. He wants to believe what I'm saying, even if he's not completely sure he can yet.

  I give his hand a squeeze. "What have you always wanted to do with your life?" I ask. "As in, if you didn't have everything mapped out for you."

  "I want to fall in love," he whispers. "I guess it's because it's the only part of my prophecy I really paid attention to."

  "Or maybe it's because you were told you couldn't do it, and that made you want it all the more," I tease.

  Gavin chuckles. "It may be dangerous spending more time with you if you're going to be so right all the time."

  "I promise not to make it into too much of a habit."

  His soft laughter turns louder. "I've only known you for a couple of days, and I know that's not true. You like being the smartest person in the room, and there's nothing wrong with that."

  "It doesn't intimidate you?" I blurt, before cursing myself inwardly. Why am I asking him things like that? It's almost as if I want to scare him away.

  "I wouldn't be much of a man if it did," he assures me. "I'm not intimidated by an intelligent woman. Far from it. I'm looking for one." The twinkle in his eye is hard to ignore.

  "Then I think we're going to get on famously," I promise, and take a sip of my tea.

  Why am I doing this to myself? And to him, if he also has a prophecy involving love? We're both going to end up with our hearts broken and potentially worse. Yet in some ways, that doesn't even matter. The worst thing about the prophecies, is that they stop people living.

  And I'm determined that's not going to happen to me.