Almost against her will, Elsa found herself following Elena across the hall, to where one marble woman cowered at the feet of another. The supplicant had lifted one pathetic hand, to shield herself or to plead for mercy. Th woman above her, axe poised to strike, didn't look like she knew the meaning of the word. "This is your namesake, did you know?" Elena touched the pleading hand. "Elizabeth. Do you know about Elizabeth's curse?" Elsa shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. "She was a prophetess. Ever so fine and clever, because her prophecies always came true."
Elena sniffed. "Elizabeth was never wrong. Oh, yes, she always knew when something terrible was going to happen. But no one would ever believe her." Her smile was very unpleasant. "No one." Elsa cleared her throat. "That's a bummer." "Isn't it just? This is Clytaemnestra, who murdered her when Agamemnon brought her back from Troy. Elizabeth knew that would happen, too. She refused to enter the palace, screaming that she smelled blood." "I see." Elsa's heart beat furiously. "And nobody believed that either?" "Nobody believed that either." Elena shook her head with mock sadness. "And so she entered the palace." She nodded at Clytaemnestra's axe. "And got what was coming to her."
"Poor old Elizabeth," said Elsa, keeping her voice level. "Indeed." Elena sighed, but then something seemed to snap inside her. "Well, let's not waste any more time." "I don't need your help," said Elsa stiffly. "Don't bother coming with me. I won't tell Sir Pitch." "You are too kind. As is he," hissed Elena. "Oh, yeah?" "Yeah. You don't fit in, Elizabeth. You think you're so clever, don't you?" All her mock courtesy had dissolved, and she snorted with contempt. "You're an exercise in public relations, and don't you ever forget it. You're here for our benefit, not the other way round."
Elsa clenched her fists to stop herself slapping Elena. Don't lose it, Elsa. That's what she wants. "What's his problem, anyway? Why's Meredith not allowed in the common room?" Sarcastically she added, "Few business, is it?" Elena didn't answer. Backing off a step, then two, she reached out a hand to stroke the flank of the terrified stag. Her fingers trailed across the cold marble to caress the snarling muzzle of one of the dogs. Elsa shuddered.
It was some carving. The fangs looked as if they were sunk in real flesh. "Keep out of it, Elsa Song, if you know what's good for you." Elena turned on her heel, then tucked her glossy hair behind her ear and smiled back at Elsa. "And sleep well."
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Black Academy
Fanfiction'TRUE GRADUATES OF THE BLACK ACADEMY TAKE LIFE BY THE THROAT, ELSA. REMEMBER THAT!' The Black Academy is a school like no other. An élite establishment that moves to a new exotic city every term, its students are possibly beautiful, sophisticated...
