Westminster Academy (Part One)

four

I ignored the fierce throbbing of my heart as I sneaked through the rows of bookshelves. I was barefoot to prevent the sounds of my steps from betraying me, wearing only the white nightgown provided for all female students. It was cold and I was shaking while letting my fingers wander over the spines of the books in front of me. After a few minutes of searching I had found the philosophy section. Once again I was shocked by the amount of knowledge that was withheld from girls. My heart fluttered excitedly at the sight of the treasures, I wanted to take every book with me and devour it. But I had to choose. More than one or two books could not be missing, otherwise it would immediately attract attention. After a little deliberation, I finally picked one work about Nihilism and a biography of Friedrich Nietzsche. I had not yet studied Nietzsche in depth. I couldn't help a satisfied smile when I felt the raw material of the books beneath my fingers. Now I just had to find my way back to my dormitory unseen. I admired the high bookshelves one last time, crammed with words I would love to absorb. I sighed softly, then turned and almost shrieked. Cold panic shot through my veins and I really struggled to stay on my feet.

In front of me stood Henry Craven. He was still wearing his school uniform, though his tie hang loosely around his neck and his white shirt was unbuttoned a little. He leaned against one of the bookshelves with his arms crossed, his sleeves rolled up to the elbows, baring his forearms. And he pierced me with his gaze. Completely perplexed, I stood there and was sure that now my end had come. I pressed my books against me, partly because I was afraid he would take them away from me, partly because they offered me at least a slight feeling of protection. I knew I should kneel before him and beg for mercy if I hoped for even the slightest chance. But I was frozen, my mind blank. I could only look at him, caught.

"Well, well" Henry said in his deep voice. "I knew I'd heard something."

The look in his grey eyes was stern, but there was an amused smirk hidden in them too. He hadn't asked me a question, so I just waited, holding my breath. 

"Little Miss Evans is wandering through the library at night like a ghost. And through the forbidden section too," he reprimanded disapprovingly. 

"I was just...," I started, but gave up. I couldn't think of an excuse, because there was none. 

"Stealing literature that you are not entitled to? Defying the rules? Well, aren't you brave."
I wasn't sure, but it felt like there actually was a touch of admiration in his tone. 

"How unfortunate that you have been caught tonight. I hardly think the headmaster will be pleased."

I turned pale at the mention of Headmaster Craven. If Henry told him about my nocturnal exploration tour, I would likely that I would be expelled from Westminster Academy immediately.

"No, please, can't you..." I whispered in despair, my hands cramping around the books. Henry raised an eyebrow.

"Cover for you? Why would I do that? Especially after the way you behaved earlier. "

My desperation had almost reached its peak. I couldn't think of an answer to his question, so I lowered my eyes and waited. This situation was entirely different from our talk in the hallway. Here, we were alone. Here, he had power over me. Here, I was in the wrong. I was confident and sassy whenever I had the chance to, but I also knew when it was not the right time. Now it definitely wasn't.

I felt Henry approaching me with slow steps, sensed his presence coming nearer. He circled me as if he was a lion and I was his prey. Then he stopped close in front of me. I closed my eyes as he gently brushed a strand of hair from my cheek, that had fallen out of my braid. Under different circumstances, I would have protested, after all he wasn't my dominant. He had no right to touch me. But I was in no position to resist. I didn't even dare to breathe.

"Let me see what you wanted so badly."

The mocking tone of his voice made me clench my teeth. I wanted to shout "No!" and run away. Instead, I reluctantly let go of my books and let him take them from me. I folded my hands in front of me and fixed my eyes on the ground.

"'Life and Works of Friedrich Nietzsche'," he read, and his voice seemed to vibrate through me.
"'The Philosophy of Nihilism'. Interesting," he commented. 

I wondered how long he wanted to go on with this torture when he was planning to betray me anyway. He was probably enjoying it to the fullest. After all, most dominants were sadists.

I winced when he suddenly put two warm fingers under my chin, gently pushing it upwards. Reluctantly, I lifted my gaze.
"You think you're a smart girl, don't you?"

His mockery made me angry and I was certain that he could see it in my eyes.
"I asked you a question," he reprimanded when I didn't answer. The sternness in his eyes made me gulp.

"I try to be." My voice sounded weak, but at least my answer was neither arrogant nor a lie. He let go of my chin and looked down at my books again.

"What shall I do with you?" he hummed, but it didn't sound like he was expecting an answer. A shiver ran over my arms and I crossed them in front of my chest. Henry examined me. From my hair loosely plaited into a braid laying over my shoulder, to the thin nightgown, to my bare feet. I avoided his gaze again.

"Suddenly so submissive? That looked quite different a few hours ago," he provoked me. "Are you afraid of me, ace?"

Now I had to look at him after all. What kind of nickname was that, "ace"? He was obviously making fun of my intellect and it made my chest burn with fury. The smirk that played around his lips did the rest. If he was going to tell on me to his father anyway, I didn't need to suffer unnecessarily.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

The smirk vanished.

"That's what I was talking about," he replied, his voice sounding dangerously calm and
causing me a shiver once more. I straightened my shoulders and forced down the submissiveness that seemed to be programmed into me.

"Heavens, you are in desperate need of a dominant to teach you manners. I swear to God, if you were mine you wouldn't be able to sit for days for that behavior."

I lifted my chin, a clear sign that he was not intimidating me. I was determined not to curb my rebelliousness any longer. Not when he was talking to me like that.

"How fortunate that I'm not yours."

The grey of his eyes became steely. I could almost feel his urge to put me across his knee right here and now. He had clenched his hands to fists, probably to keep himself from doing just that. I held his gaze, even though it was harder than when I usually talked to dominants. When one is taught for years to lower one's gaze when in contact with males, it was not easy to simply turn that reflex off. But to a certain extent I enjoyed it. I almost forgot what a predicament I was in at the moment.

Henry had the courtesy to remind me.

"If I was you, I would beg for mercy. It is entirely in my hands whether you continue to attend this school. You've given me great motivation to go straight to the headmaster tomorrow morning and tell him about your little overnight trip. You can start packing your things right away."

I felt the blood drain from my face. Did that mean I would have had a chance if I had behaved more submissively?

"Okay..." I releted and lowered my eyes. "I'm sorry."

Henry let out a throaty laugh, which made me look up again. It was a triumphant, patronising laugh, that didn't reach his eyes.

"Cute. Someone should teach you how to properly beg for mercy."

I felt tears suddenly welling up in my eyes.

"Please...", I whispered, my voice barely audible. 

"Better. But still far from good. Go to sleep, ace. Tomorrow's going to be a tough day."

With that, he turned and left me standing. He had taken my books with him.