Iron & Ice #ONC2024

Chapter V

 After Agripinna Lycaeus's speech, we are brought into the castle's Great Hall. They tell us that this is where we will have all of our meals and all special events.

It is a cavernous space, cold and imposing. It has been built in a gothic style, with a high ceiling, vaulted arches and towering columns, completely at odds with the medieval style of the exterior. The stone floor seems older, though, like something left over from ancient times, like the medieval castle was built on an ancient foundation, then renovated in gothic times, and then again in our time.

It's cold and dank and dark, and I half-expect to see bats nesting in the rafters.

There are rows of chairs set up facing a high table in front of a cavernous hearth that puts out no heat. Our various teachers gather near the high table, speaking in low voices. Despite the way sound echoes in here, we can't hear what they're saying.

Behind the rows of chairs are ten long trestle tables. Each one is set for twenty students.

Hesitantly, we sit down in the chairs facing the high table. None of us seem to know if we're supposed to or not, but none of the teachers tell us to stop. I wind up sitting between Cassian and a girl I don't recognize, while Octavia is swallowed up by the crowd. I glance around for her, but I can't see her anywhere.

The girl next to me stands out more than I do. She's almost as small as I am, but lithe like a dancer, instead of skinny like me. She has rich, dark skin and warm brown eyes, and her black hair is impossibly long and thick. She has an Indian look to her, although I fully admit I don't have much knowledge about the people from our colonies in the Indian subcontinent.

She smiles warmly at me as she sits. "I hope you don't mind," she says. Her accent is as flawless as any of ours, which surprises me. Mentally, I scold myself. I should be the last person to make assumptions about her from the way she looks.

"Of course," I say, then wince. Hopefully, she'll take it the way I meant it, and not to mean that i did mind, which I didn't.

At the high table, Agrippina Lycaeus claps her hands together and everyone falls instantly silent. The sound of her clap echoes off the vaulted ceiling and the stone floor, louder than any gunshot in the sudden hush.

"Attention," she says unnecessarily. Already, she has our undivided attention. Her silver hair flutters in one of the many drafts in the Great Hall. "Some of you may already be aware of how your studies here will work. For those who are not, each one of you will be assigned to a House, under the guidance of one of our faculty members.

"While you are here, this House will be like your family, a concept you should all be familiar with already. As Patricians, your first loyalty is to your House. The same goes for your school family here. In the long term, your House can serve you well. Our alumni often offer choice positions to members of the House they studied in.

"Your House will also impact your rankings. You will all rise and fall together. Of course, you can still place in the rankings if you belong to a low-ranked House, but leading your House to the top of the rankings will count in your favor. And, at the end of the year, the members whichever House is ranked highest will be rewarded with the Mural Crown, the highest honor we offer. It will be presented to the members of that House by the king himself, at the Court of St. James, the same as any other military valor."

She pauses to let this sink in, then says with enough dramatic flourish to make a Shakespearean actor jealous, "However," and I feel the energy in the room shift. "Your House will not graduate intact. Any members who finish the first term below the cutoff will leave without graduating. And, in the many years I've taught here, I have seen several entire Houses get cut. So be warned: you may, before the end of the year, find yourself a part of a House of one. Or none."