Checkmate ⚢

Chapter 22 Alumni

Althea reached home and read Professor Oakley's letter just after dinner. The contents shook her so much she had to take a walk so she could properly process what has been said. She reached for the letter she hid in her pockets, picked it up again, and re-read its content.

Dear Miss Lancaster,

By the time you read this letter, hopefully, you've recognized the feelings you've had towards Miss Yoshida. I was so very pleased to hear that you're doing so well with your painting. Congratulations on finally finding a muse that could help you accomplish your ambition.

However, I do find something disturbing when the tea leaves in my cup gave me a strange warning. I turned to the stars and undeniably, I am certain of what shall ensue between you and your muse.

Your fascination with Miss Yoshida will turn sour shortly and your relationship with her will come in jeopardy. The present you wouldn't want that as I had seen your heartbeat for the lovely girl. The girl clearly feels the same for you. Surely you would prevent such drastic fate between you and your flame.

Unfortunately, I have to put an end to my letter; there are a million things that I'm supposed to do and I fear that I am unable to help you steer yourself in the right direction. You have my ultimate trust that you would be able to control your rash decisions for yourself, for Miss Yoshida, and your mentors. I am aware that you are nothing like my past student—a certain prodigal girl like you, but one couldn't be too careful.

I have decided that by Samhain Festival, I shall choose which protégé I will take under my care. Reminding you that I only take one, Miss Lancaster, per generation for I will never accept two at the same time. You have all my best wishes. Good luck.

Sincerely,

Oakley

Althea didn't know what to make of it. She folded the piece of parchment, sighing, and then threw it again on the desk. She sat on the chair, thinking about what Professor Oakley had written. It was true; she was feeling something about Hana, but the way Professor Oakley paraphrased it, it seemed like she was insinuating a deeper emotion, a dark one—akin to anger and dissatisfaction. Althea couldn't fathom why the old woman would think that Althea will harbor such ill will towards the object of her affection.

That night, Althea couldn't sleep. She kept tossing about in her bed, trying to find a position remotely comfortable but at that point, it was obvious that it was not the lack of space that disturbed her peace, but the abundance of it. It was bad. She had never imagined that Professor Oakley's crazy reading would prove to be such an ordeal: she couldn't sleep and think.

All she did was paint.

She needed to put her best work forward to submit to the campus contest. Her mother won the title during her prime and she wouldn't want to fail the family legacy of their Matriarchal line.

Althea overworked herself to paint. She already painted three pieces, none which passed her fancy. She was on the fourth attempt when she required fresh air. She opened the window, but she would not leave the canvas.

She had to stay there and paint until her hands hurt, her back felt stiff and her eyes could not render an appropriate perception of her surroundings. It was her sort of atonement, for the future Professor Oakley warned her, for her deeds, for her fright, and mostly for those three words that she had never said nor found the courage to tell Hana.