"Trust me, you shouldn't want anyone like me on your back."
"Maybe I don't want anyone like you on my back," His eyes darkened as he stepped closer, confining me tighter into barely any space as my back pressed against the wall.
"Maybe I want you. U...
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CHAPTER 2
MADAME OLYMPE MAXIME FLITTED her half lidded tree bark colored eyes, an expression on her face that was utterly ruthless in its stoicism. The half-giantess sat draped behind her desk, her thick and long legs folded neatly to a side. It was circulated that the Madame preferred talking to students while she sat, for reasons quite obvious to her stature. Though, I wasn't so sure it made much of a difference. The Beauxbatons headmistress was enthralling, intimidating, and dominating in ways perhaps even magic couldn't point out. It was that way with some witches and wizards, some needed wands for power while others carried it in their blood.
And for some, that very blood was a burden.
Self consciously, I rubbed my elbow, fearing for perhaps another uncountable moment in my life that my face would reveal all that I never want to say. Realizing, I caught myself and straightened slightly. We had all been summoned to the headmistress' offices. The giant sky blue clock that hung on the wall clearly read 4pm. Not a minute had any of us been late, precisely how our headmistress preferred.
I stood next to Bridgette and Elias, and we were joined by all the other archers that had been summoned. Six in total, we all made the headmistress' office seem like a particularly giant space. If an entire batch of students could all fit in here, this place would still seem so huge.
With the office's elegantly plastered ceiling, draping with meticulously etched designs reminiscent of France's medieval sensibilities, a silver sparkling chandelier hanging taut, and a gentle blue wallpaper adorned with a pattern of repeating small navy wings that students have debated much on being of a bird's instead of a pegasus'.
Wings are wings, I had shrugged often when I would be counted in on the matter, what did it matter to whom they belonged?
"Huntlock games," Madame Maxime spoke, her voice domineering over all of us, though we had all been as silent as door mice. "Mes étudiants, I trust you all are familiar with them?"
She turned her eyes to inspect us all, her gaze a sharp arc, dwelling on each one of us for no longer than five precise seconds. Some Bridgette offered a small nod, as did Elias, as well as Gabriel Chevrolet. The latter's nod, holding much more confidence and significance than Elias' or Brigette's.
Madame Maxime observed Chevrolet, her eyes mildly impressed, but in that way which left students often reeling on the idea that her interest had not been entirely genuine. Gabriel caught the infamous look, and his brows furrowed slightly.
"Dominique?" The Madame spoke my name suddenly, a question filled with expectation that I wavered to think if I could match or not.
She turned from Chevrolet to look at me, the doubted mild interest in her eyes replaced by a stoic expression. A look of stoic contentment, as though now she will hear exactly what she wants to.
