Three - From Happiness to Heartache

Rosemarie's POV

Fairston Academy loomed in front of us in all its Gothic glory. The sharp angles of the pinnacles and towers gave it a formidable appearance, emphasizing the gray-black pallor of the stone. Vasilisa, Jillian, and I exited the carriage one at a time and walked towards the school in our painfully heeled shoes. I held all of our totes and was lagging behind because of the large amount of weight. Vasilisa strutted ahead, her platinum-blond hair flying around her like a veil.

"Hurry up, Rosemarie," she ordered. "I can't go inside and look like an idiot who showed up to school without her things." Muttering curses under my breath, I walked faster, strengthening my grip so everything wouldn't fall.

Jillian was slightly behind Vasilisa, her stature not as arrogant as her sister, but still fairly haughty. She seemed more average with her light brown hair, which was in a style that sat atop her head. However, she had the Dragomir eyes, and Jillian couldn't help having the snotty behavior of her family. It was sort of in their nature, I supposed.

I wondered if their biological father acted just as ridiculously. If he went about with a royal essence that lacked title and bloodline. I then began to dwell on Cesarevich Dimitri, someone who was actually royal. Did he act like he owned the world? Did he treat everyone as if they were worthless or beneath him? Would he marry someone who wasn't a princess, but still came from a noble family?

Would he marry someone who behaved like a lower status and allowed it when others treated her as such?

Someone like me?

I was so entangled in my thoughts that I hadn't realized Vasilisa was now right in front of me, her pale green eyes enflamed. "Will you get your head out of the clouds and stop daydreaming?" she spat. "I've been calling you forever, and you haven't been responding. I was looking like an imbecile waiting for you to reply!"

Jillian stood next to her, her slender arms crossed while her brow arched. "What was going on back there, Rosemarie?"

I didn't want to tell them that I was thinking about Cesarevich Dimitri, so I just handed them their totes and waved the matter away. "It was nothing important, really." They stared at me doubtfully for a few seconds before dismissing the issue.

Vasilisa turned on her heel, causing her soft pink dress to twirl around her white heels. "Meet me and Jillian after school, here at the front entrance. Don't bother talking to us during classes or sitting with us at lunch. If you do, there'll be consequences. Understand?" she said, turning back around, staring me down with her jade-green eyes.

I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes and nodded. "Of course."

She put on a victorious smile, seeming very pleased with my obedience. "Good." Vasilisa grabbed Jillian's cerulean sleeve and interlocked their arms, having them strut into Fairston Academy together. I clenched my fists, wanting to throw my tote at their perfectly styled heads. I swear, they were nothing but a couple of wretched fiends. Those rotten pieces of—

"Well, aren't they just lovely." I jerked around to find my friend, Mason Ashford, standing behind me, his soft blue eyes filled with sarcasm. I put on a smile and laughed, placing a gloved hand on my hip.

"You scared me, Mase," I said.

He dramatically bowed and gave my hand an apologetic kiss. "Forgive me, miss, I had no intention of frightening you," he joked. I laughed again and Mason grinned, holding out his jacketed arm for me to grab. We began walking up the stony steps and soon entered the majestic school.

High ceilings and lights loomed over our heads as we walked through the marble hallways. Stained-glass windows were embedded in the dark walls and mosaics of beautiful patterns decorated them. Bumbling students clad in expensive, delicate clothing buzzed all around us, preparing for lessons.

Mason took me to a wooden bench. We sat down and I placed my bag next to my feet. He faced me curiously and wondered, "Why in the Lord's name were you talking to Vasilisa and Jillian Dragomir?"

I sighed and folded my hands in the lap of my blood-red dress. "You saw that?"

"Of course I saw! And it certainly confused me. Those girls are like demons from Hell. You'd never talk to them, Rosemarie," Mason rambled, getting angry just talking about them. His scarlet-red hair seemed darker under the semi-dim light.

I fiddled with my dress, contemplating if I should tell him. I really wished I didn't have to, but he was one of my best friends, and I hated keeping things from him. Taking a deep breath, I gazed into Mason's blue eyes as I explained, "They're my stepsisters. My father married their mother, Lady Rhea Dragomir, just a month ago and they moved in yesterday."

I could see the wheels turning in his head as realization dawned on him. Mason's eyes widened as his mouth fell open. "You mean to tell me that those awful bitches are your stepsisters and their mother is your stepmother?" he reiterated in horror. I nodded sadly, feeling horrible for myself as well. But, I quickly became tired of the subject and just wanted to go about my day without thinking about my stepfamily for once.

My hand touched his arm. I pulled him off the bench with me. "Come on, let's get to our first lesson and just forget about this," I suggested rather forcefully. Mason agreed and we walked together down the echoing hallways and up a flight of winding stairs until we reached the lecture room for English History.

Mister Stan Alto was standing at the front of the room, an irritated look etched onto his aging face. He started teaching at Fairston Academy a couple of years ago, but he was downright rotten to his students. He exploited everyone and tried to make them feel as stupid and belittled as possible. Not to mention, he was in love with history, so when students fell distracted or simply didn't care, he got very angry.

I sat in my seat while Mason sat in his, which was on the other side of the room, near our other friend, Edison Castile. He was handsome like Mason, having sandy-blond hair and hazel eyes with tanned skin. I wasn't attracted to them, though—I considered them my brothers.

Edison sent me a friendly smile and waved.

Before I could even respond, Mister Stan Alto slapped his mahogany desk with a long stick. His cold, grey eyes glared at us all. "Open your textbooks to page 52. Get your notebooks and quills ready. This is going to be a long lecture," he warningly instructed.

A soft groan escaped my mouth. This really was going to be a hectic day.

I was so relieved when the break for lunch arrived. Mason, Edison, and I walked to the courtyard of the school, where students relaxed during non-class periods. The weather was so beautiful—the baby-blue sky illuminated the area as the yellow sun shone from above. We found an empty table and nearly collapsed from tiredness and hunger.

"I want to go home," Mason whined like a child.

Edison lethargically nodded. "Agreed. Physics and Calculus was so horrible! But I think English History was definitely the worst." I nodded in agreement, along with Mason. We began eating our lunches—I just had leftovers from last night's dinner while the two of them had sandwiches and cranberry juice. It was comfortably silent…until Christian Ozera appeared.

He seemed so dark and lonely against the sky's brightness as he went to a secluded table. People stepped aside and whispered about him, watching him with wary and judgmental gazes. Christian Ozera was an outsider at Fairston Academy. The story was that his parents committed treason against the British government, which unfortunately, earned them executions. He had been an orphan for a while until his aunt, Lady Natasha Ozera, took him in.

I felt bad for Christian. He didn't need to be treated as a traitor.

Wanting to talk to him, I stood up and walked over to his table. Students immediately bolted away from me, watching in horror as I sat down across from him. I even felt Mason and Edison sending me insane, concerned looks. Christian looked up, his ice-blue eyes piercing mine. They seemed so guarded…sad… "What do you want?" he demanded.

I took a deep breath. "I want to talk to you."

Christian barked out a humorless laugh. "What? You want to criticize and judge me for being a traitor who's following in his parents' footsteps in plotting against the British government? You want to call me every cruel name in the book? Go ahead, it won't change things," he grumbled, his pale body on edge.

"I didn't come over here to do that. I came here because I wanted to be your friend." Christian eyed me doubtfully, which was completely understandable, and after sitting stiffly for several moments, he finally relaxed.

"I appreciate it, but I don't think that's wise. You still have a good reputation around here. I don't want you befriending me only to have it destroyed," he countered honestly, his raven-black hair sparkling under the sunlight. I knew he was trying to be polite and save me from a life of ostracism, but I didn't care. He was a good person, and he deserved to be given a chance, even if others disagreed.

Flashing a smile, I assured, "It doesn't matter. This can't possibly be more terrible than having Vasilisa and Jillian Dragomir as my stepsisters." At that, Christian dropped his jaw and gaped at me, mirroring what Mason had done.

"They're your stepsisters?"

I nodded sadly.

"My goodness! I suppose that is worse than having me as a friend," he agreed in all truth.

After that, I asked him, "Would you like to sit with me and my friends at our table?" I pointed to Mason and Edison, who quickly turned their heads away and pretended to look at something else. Christian frowned at them, falling back into his dark mood.

"I don't know. They seem unwelcoming." Immediately, I wished I could slap Mason and Edison for judging poor Christian like everyone else. They were better than that, and what they had did immensely disappointed me.

Putting on a convincing face, I leaned forward and hoped to change his mind. "Give them a chance. They're really great friends, and they won't belittle you or isolate you from society. Trust me—they're not like everyone else," I pressed, really hoping Christian would let himself have some friends for once and not assume that everyone in the world was against him because of what his parents had committed.

It took him a few moments to answer. His ice-blue eyes were hard at first, yet they brightened over the course of his thought. I squealed in happiness when he finally gave in. "All right, I'll give them a chance," he decided. Smiling, I grabbed his jacketed arm and led him over to Mason and Edison. They turned their light heads when they noticed us appear.

A nervous look crossed Mason's freckled face, yet Edison elbowed him in the stomach, causing Mason to put on a friendly smile. He awkwardly waved. "It's nice to meet you, Christian," he greeted in a pleasant voice.

Christian simply nodded, feeling a little uncomfortable since he hadn't been in these situations for quite some time. "Likewise. I'm…glad that you are both giving me a chance to be your friend. It's great to finally socialize and connect with people again. I'll admit that I have missed it," he solemnly confessed.

Edison offered a kind, pearly white grin, which matched the twinkle in his hazel eyes. "It's fine, Christian. From now on, you'll have some friends by your side." Christian relaxed at hearing those words and even sat down to begin a conversation with him and Mason. I smiled at the interaction between them, liking the happiness that I was finally having today. Maybe the rest of the afternoon and upcoming evening wouldn't be so bad.

School ended a couple of hours later, and I stood at the entrance of Fairston Academy, listening to the sonorous bells chime the death of the academic day. Vasilisa and Jillian exited the front door, looking very unhappy, with Mia Rinaldi trailing behind them. She was a year younger than me, but a year older than Jillian, having bouncy, rich blond ringlets and light blue eyes. Her skin was pale like theirs, but she seemed doll-like and young.

Mia brightened when she saw me, running past my stepsisters to give me a hug. "Rosemarie! I haven't seen you all day!" She then pulled back, her eyes deadly serious. "You're stepsisters are absolute nightmares. I had to walk with them after the last lecture, and they completely ignored me as if I wasn't there. They even talked about me behind my back!"

I rubbed her arms soothingly. "I know, but don't listen to them. Just be mature and hold your head high," I advised, feeling slightly hypocritical because I didn't even do those things half of the time. I let them belittle me and treat me like some peasant. Again, I drifted back to Cesarevich Dimitri and his need to have a bride.

Would he like me if I met him? Would he love me?

"Rosemarie, Mia, hurry up! We're about to leave," yelled Vasilisa, who stood by the carriage with her hands on her hips, her eyes glaring tremendously. I pulled Mia along, loading our totes into the passenger area and having her sit beside me. The coachmen urged the horses to move, and we went back to Mazur Manor in a tense silence.

When we arrived, I took all of our things inside. Vasilisa and Jillian wordlessly abandoned us, going up the staircase to their bedchambers, probably to discuss about boys and fashion and makeup. I led Mia into the library so we could do our schoolwork in peace. I opened the oak door to reveal the organized, spacious room.

Books, documents, scrolls, and letters were shelved in alphabetical and chronological order. It smelled of paper and ink, but I found it to be more refreshing than repulsing. Mia stared in awe at the library, walking around to look. "My god, you have everything in here," she breathed.

I went to a desk, where our textbooks lay. Starting with dreadful Calculus, I called, "Are you coming? There's a lot to do."

Instead of answering that, Mia suddenly questioned, "You miss her, don't you?"

I froze and stared up at her, nearly dropping my quill. "What did you say?" All I could do was blink and breathe. Mia noticed my stiff posture, but she pressed on anyway, coming to sit down across from me.

Her blue eyes penetrated mine. "I asked, 'You miss her, don't you?'. It's all right if you do. I can tell," she continued. "You miss your mother so much that you wish Lady Dragomir, Vasilisa, and Jillian weren't here. You hate the idea of them living with you. You hate them ordering you around and taking your stuff—"

"Enough!" I abruptly stood up, causing the leather chair to fall back and hit the ground. My blood-red dress swayed around my legs, as if to calm me, but how could I remain calm when Mia was talking about my mother, the woman who gave birth to me, was practically my best friend, and died after fourteen years of my life?

Mia fell apologetic, a look of realization registering once she remembered what she had just said. She came towards me, yet I backed away. "Rose—"

"No."

"Rosemarie, I'm sorry," Mia pleaded.

"No."

"Please…"

"Leave me alone!" I cried out, feeling the tears cascade down my cheeks. My heart felt like it had a gaping wound, bleeding, hollowing, and draining. It was as if I was dying, and soon, complete sobs wracked my body. Mia watched me with a pained expression on her pretty face, wanting to comfort me yet knowing she had to keep her distance. I collapsed on the cold floor, my dress pooling around me. Mia grabbed her things and silently left, giving me one, last glance before going away.

I didn't get up for several minutes. I lay there sobbing and hurting, wanting the world to just close in on me. When I finally calmed down, I slowly stood up and snuck out of the library, tiptoeing to my bedchamber. Once I got there, I locked the door and collapsed onto my bed.

Fatigue consumed me as a throbbing headache surfaced. I tried to close my eyes to take a nap, but all I could I do was lay there in loneliness as memories of Mother's death haunted my mind.

I cried again.