The Founders

Chapter 27

Monday came around far too quickly, along with biting November winds; as Kyra stood by her window, mechanically brushing her teeth, she saw that the ground had been covered in a thin white crust of frost.

Grace offered to cover for her again, so that Kyra could avoid seeing Alexander in DADA, but Kyra just clenched her jaw and said that she doubted he would attack her in the middle of class. At least, not any more than he already did. Before she left the room, she spent twenty minutes carefully dabbing concealer on her bruises. Then she went down to breakfast late with Grace and tried to slip unnoticed into Brockett's classroom, sitting at a desk towards the back, far from where Alexander was sitting.

He looked at her in surprise and quietly slid back from his desk when Brockett's back was turned, navigating his way through the desks towards her.

"Hey," he said in a low voice, pulling out his chair.

Kyra couldn't help the little jolt of fear in her navel as she tried to reconcile the person who had attacked her with the person to whom she'd cried. She clenched her fists together from where she was resting them on the desk, hidden under her long robe sleeves.

When she said nothing, only continuing to stare at her hands, he looked at her more closely, concern in his eyes. Lowering his voice, he said, "Is everything okay?" and reached out to brush her sleeve.

She flinched back from him and looked up at him; he immediately registered the pure panic in her eyes, withdrawing his hand instinctively. Her eyes welled up with tears of frustration. Angrily, she wiped her sleeve across her face, and pushed away from the desk, slamming the door of the classroom open and dashing out into the corridor. She wouldn't be able to bear sitting next to him, let alone duelling him, for an hour after all.

As she strode quickly and angrily down the empty hall, she heard loud footsteps and then a hand encircled her wrist and swung her around, so that she was almost chest to chest with Alexander. She pushed him away and tried to keep walking her heart beating erratically, but he pulled her into the nearest classroom and closed the door, standing cross-armed in front of it. She retreated to one of the desks, standing in a slight duelling stance.

"What the hell is going with you?" he asked, his voice vibrating with emotion. "What's happened?"

Kyra only shook her head bitterly, lifting up her collar to wipe away her tear tracks. "Please just stay away from me and stop lying. You got what you wanted."

He looked bewildered, taking a step forward. "What are you talk-" he cut himself off, catching sight of the angry purple bruise where the concealer on her neck had smudged. "Kyra." He started, shocked. "What the fuck." His voice was appalled. "Who- who did this to you?" he asked, his voice beginning to shake. He tried to move towards her, but she stepped back holding up her hands and shaking her head violently.

"Stop it, just stop it." Her voice was deadly quiet, vibrating with anger. "Stop pretending like you care, like you're not a fucking liar who tried kill me for my fucking necklace, or my plants, or whatever the hell it is you want, okay?"

He went white. "What?"

She shook her head and tried to push past him. He put his hands on her shoulders and then dropped them quickly. "I- wait. Please. Someone tried to kill you? And stole your necklace, and the praesidio plants?"

She turned away with a bitter laugh. "More or less, yeah. What? Are you going to tell me it wasn't you?" she said derisively, gesturing wildly. "Tell me it wasn't you; tell me you're not a psychopath; tell me that you care about me." She had meant for it to come out mocking, but instead it sounded pleading.

He cupped her elbow carefully and looked down at her earnestly. "It wasn't me. I'm not a psychopath." He hesitated. "I care about you."

She swallowed, and broke his gaze, stepping out of his arm reach. "You were the only one who knew about my necklace. The only one," her voice shook. "Who else could it possibly be? Who else would want my necklace, or would know that I grow praesidio plants in the greenhouse, that they could attack me there?"

He stepped back in agitation, pushing his hair back with both hands and shook his head. "I can't fucking tell you. I can't tell you anything."

She walked to the door again, now that he no longer stood in front of it.

"Please," he pleaded. "Believe me. I want to tell you- I want to explain everything. I just-can't."
Kyra looked back over her shoulder, her hand still on the handle of the opened door.

"I was almost strangled to death. A few days ago. Maybe I should try to believe you, to trust you." She shook her head wearily. "But I don't. And I just don't have it in me to try."

She let the door shut behind her. Alexander leaned back against the closed door dazedly, holding his hands palm up towards himself. He turned them over, biting his nails into the soft skin of his palms, staring blankly for a moment. Then he straightened himself up, swung his bag back over his head and left.