“Oh my dear, sweet, naïve Ivy,” my father laughs. “Look around you. The world is a violent place. There’s nothing going on here that doesn’t happen outside the walls of our town. There’s nothing special going on here. I guarantee you that your disappearance will barely register with the media. Perhaps a photo in the local newspaper, a brief mention on social media. And for those rare occasions when a journalist has decided to stick their nose where it’s not wanted…” He shrugs with one shoulder. “We have very effective lawyers who know how to squash a story before it begins, not to mention other ways of persuading people round to our way of thinking. Kings Town is one of the country’s best kept secrets, and we like it that way. Only the elite can enjoy what we have here.”
“I see.” I take a bite of my grilled cheese, chewing slowly. It had to be said that whoever made it is a master chef. It still wasn’t as nice as Katy’s meal would have been. For that reason alone, the sandwich tastes like bitter poison in my mouth.
If my father thought a good cheese sandwich is going to make up for a lifetime of abandonment, he is the naïve one, not me.
“I know. It’s a lot to take in,” my father says. “I think that’s enough for now.”
He presses a buzzer on his desk and a moment later, the door opens and a woman wearing a simple black dress walks in. She is pretty with lighter blonde hair than me, a tiny button nose and she can’t be more than five or six years older than I am. Her heels are high and sharp, clicking on the tiles as she walks.
“Sir?” She nods her head in a little gesture of respect.
“Isabella will show you to your room,” my father tells me. “I’ve taken the liberty of buying you a brand new wardrobe. My shopping assistant has a good eye for detail and she has a daughter about your age, so I think you’ll like everything she’s picked out for you. You’ll also find your new school uniform.”
“School uniform?” I gasp. “You expect me to go to some shitty school and play happy family? Katy home schooled me because of issues at my last school.”
The memories from my last school haunt my mind, making my hands sweat.
“Oh, yes you will go,” my father tells me. “I’ve enrolled you at King Academy and I think you’ll find it a very different experience to the establishments you’ve frequented in the past. My chauffeur will drive you there in the morning, so be ready for him by 8:15. They frown on tardiness at the Academy. However, you’ll be pleased to hear that they also have a zero tolerance for bullying. You won’t have to suffer anything like you did in your old school.”
Bullying was a nice word for the shit that went down in my old school. I still have the scars on my back to remind me what being a victim to rich bullies is really like.
“But I don’t want to go,” I angrily snap. “I’ll stay here, I won’t be any trouble. I’ll stay in my room. You won’t even know I’m there.”
“I’m afraid this is not up for discussion,” my father tells me. “It is essential that you mix with your peers from the other houses so you can learn their strengths and weaknesses. This is a crucial part of your education and not something you can escape.”
“Fine,” I huffed, standing to follow Isabella. I’m older now and apparently have a rich dad. I won’t let myself get into the same situation I once did four years ago. Four years ago I was naïve and desperate to make friends. Now I’m just angry but I do know how to protect myself thanks to self-defence lessons Katy took me to. One of the many reasons I will never put Katy in danger by trying to run away.
“Let me be clear, Ivy,” father warns, no doubt seeing the resistance in my eyes. “I will not stand disobedience. As an Archaic, you’re strong willed and headstrong, traits which will stand you in good stead when your turn comes to rule the House, but can get you into trouble in the meantime. If you rebel against me, you’ll find I can make your life a living hell. But if you do as you’re told and follow all my instructions, you’ll discover that being an Archaic is a wonderful privilege which brings with it many advantages. The finer things in life are all yours now. All you have to do is ask and your wish will be carried out by one of my servants.
“Have a good day at school tomorrow and if I get positive feedback from the Head Master, you will be able to call your foster mother at the end of the day.”
He turns his attention to some paperwork on his desk, making it clear our time together is over. I have no choice but to follow Isabella and see what my new room is like, while making sure to remind myself that this is just the start.
And my “Dad” might have all the cards right now, but he won’t for long.
Chapter Three
Ivy Archaic
“When Solomon says the finer things in life are all mine, he isn’t kidding, is he?”
My jaw drops when I see the room that my father had given to me. And by room, I actually mean a full on suite, with bathroom, walk in wardrobe, living area and bedroom. It’s ridiculously nice and expensive, nothing like I have ever had in my entire life. A part of me doesn’t want it all, knowing I don’t deserve any of this shit. I wish my mum was here to tell me what to do, how to get through this, and if my father isn’t the snake he seems to be.
Why did you leave all this, mum?
“He hired the best interior decorator to furnish it for you,” Isabella tells me, “but if there’s anything you don’t like, all you have to do is say, and we’ll change it.”
“No, no. Don’t be silly. This is fine. More than fine.”
And it really is. For a girl who’d grown up on the wrong side of the tracks, this is unbelievable. Going into the wardrobe, I can see my father had spared no expense to get everything he thought a girl my age would like. The scary thing is that the clothes hanging up are just my style–sassy tees with funny slogans, cargo pants and black denim jeans, slouchy jumpers made from the softest materials.
It is quite spooky, really. He must have been watching me for a long time before he sent Archer in to snatch me.
Laid out on a low table in the middle of the wardrobe area is what I supposed is my school uniform. Picking it up, I can’t avoid letting out a grunt of disgust.
“Really? They can’t have designed something better than this?”
I’m being forced into wearing a black pleated skirt and black V neck jumper with a crest embroidered on the left hand side. Above are the words ‘King Academy’ and underneath ‘House Archaic.’ There are also some long black socks, a white shirt and a black and white striped tie.
The only good thing about it are the funky black Doc Martens. I have always wanted a pair, but Katy said they were too expensive. She was right. These have my name on the inside, and last name in a small font down the outside edges so they must be custom made. As it is, they are a small consolation for the fact I’m going to look like an idiot.
“Is there anything else I can get you?” Isabella asks with an overly sweet voice. I don’t trust her or anyone for that matter. “More food, perhaps? There’s a small fridge in your lounge with a supply of soft drinks, but if there’s anything in particular you want, let me know and I’ll arrange for it to be sent up.”