Princess Academy By Shannon Hale

Chapter 8

My toes are colder than my feet
My feet are colder than my ribs
My ribs are colder than my breath
My breath is colder than my lips
And my lips are purple and blue, purple and blue

Miri woke shivering, and she hopped around as she did her chores, trying to warm her toes. In a mountain winter, the iciness often eased after snow fell, but for the past week the skies had been clear. And a glance out the window told the girls no relief from the cold would come today—clouds heavy with unshed snow slumped onto the mountain, burying everything in wet fog.
Everyone groaned and complained, and Miri knew she should be miserable, too, but instead she felt wrapped up and hidden, a bright secret in a magpie's nest. She stared at the white nothingness outside the classroom window, cozy with her discovery of quarry-speech and anxious to understand it more. She pulled her thoughts back to hear Olana announce that their studies were about to change.

For nearly three months the focus had been on reading, but now Olana introduced other subjects: Danlander History, Commerce, Geography, and Kings and Queens, as well as princess-forming subjects such as Diplomacy, Conversation, and the one that made Miri want to roll her eyes—Poise. Well, she would do it if it meant she could stop Olana's insults and prove that a mountain girl had as many brains as any lowlander.

Her eyes flicked to the painting, and her desires plunged and stumbled inside her. She wanted to give her family that house, yet she did not want to marry a lowlander. She longed to see some of the world they were learning about and find in it a place of her own, yet she was afraid to give up her mountain. No solution she could imagine would make everything just right.

During their lessons on Poise, the girls took off their boots and balanced them on their heads. They walked in circles. They learned how to walk quickly (on toes, toes kept behind the hem of the skirt, fluid, arms slightly bent) and slowly (toe to heel, toe to heel, hands resting on skirt). They learned a deep curtsy for a prince, and as Miri bent her leg and bowed her head, she first believed that she would actually meet a prince. They practiced a shallow curtsy for a peer and understood that they were never to curtsy to a servant.

"Though in truth," said Olana, "as you are not from one of the kingdom's provinces, you would be considered less than a servant in any Danlander city."

To Miri, studying Conversation was as ridiculous as learning Poise. They had all been able to talk since they were toddlers,- what more was there to learn? But at least when studying Conversation, the girls were allowed to speak to one another, following the correct principles, of course.

Olana paired the girls and designated their rank. Miri was pleased to be matched up with Britta, even though Olana assigned Miri to be her lesser.

"You must know your rank and that of your interlocutor," said Olana. Miri frowned and looked around. No one dared to interrupt and ask what "interlocutor" meant. "The person of lower rank always defers to the other. This is just for practice, of course, as there are few in the kingdom who would be considered of lower rank than any of you.

Olana's insults were like biting flies stinging her nose, and Miri felt ready to swat her. Britta bumped her with her elbow and smiled, as if guessing her thoughts.

"However, one of you will be elevated in rank next year," said Olana, "so you all must practice against the possibility. Lessers should be certain of the name and rank of their betters. In correct conversation, you will use this often. You may begin."

"All right, Lady Britta," said Miri under the whir of conversation that filled the classroom.

Britta frowned. "You don't need to call me that."