Once An Eve Novel

her fingers nervously twisting a strand of hair.
    “There’s always the chance,” I said, squeezing her hand. “We can hope.”
    I looked out the side window, through the wall of rain, at the figure coming toward us. She stood under a giant black umbrella, her gray rain slicker falling past her knees. Even from twenty feet away I recognized her, her slow uneven steps, her square jaw, the hair that was always roped back into a tight bun.
    Headmistress Burns.
    She approached the side of the Jeep, staring at me through the rain. A soldier opened the door and helped me down the high step. “Princess Genevieve,” Headmistress said, her voice slow and deliberate, lingering over my new title. “How delightful of you to grace us with your presence.” She took another umbrella from her side and wrapped her hand around its neck, slowly expanding its cloth dome.
    “Hello, Headmistress,” I said, as the guard helped Beatrice out behind me. “It’s delightful to be here.” I kept my chin up, my shoulders back, careful not to reveal the terror I felt. I hated that she had this effect on me, even now, when I was no longer under her supervision.
    Beatrice took the umbrella and held it above us. Her presence by my side comforted me. “This is Beatrice,” I said as we started toward the dining building. “She’ll be staying the night with me.”
    “So I’ve been told,” Headmistress Burns said, looking straight ahead. “They’ve cleared out an upstairs bedroom for you two, as well as one for your armed escorts. It’s nothing fancy, just the same beds you slept in when you were here. I hope you’re not terribly offended by them now.” Each word was tinged with malice. There was no way for me to respond.
    She opened the door to the building and gestured for us to go inside. The hallway was quiet except for the low hum of the generators. I stamped the water off my feet as we hung up our coats in the closet. “The girls are waiting for you in the main dining hall,” Headmistress continued. “You can imagine how confused they were when you disappeared the night before graduation. First Arden, then you. It raised a lot of questions for them, especially these younger ones.”
    “I understand.”
    “Your father reached out to me regarding this visit. I’ve been told that you’re speaking tonight on the value of your education and your royal duties in The New America. And that you will reassure these young women of the gift they have been given just by being here.”
    “That’s correct,” I said, the heat creeping into my cheeks. “Are these all the girls in the School?” I glanced sideways at Beatrice.
    “Yes,” Headmistress said, turning on her heel. “Shall we begin then? There’s only an hour until lights out.”
    We went down the same tiled corridor I’d walked through hundreds of times before, Pip and Ruby arm in arm as we went to breakfast, lunch, and dinner. We’d crept in late one night, trying to sneak extra puddings from the kitchen, when Ruby had screamed, swearing a rat had darted over her feet. We ran all the way back up to the dorm room, not stopping until we were crowded in my cot, the blanket pulled over our heads.
    Beatrice was wringing her fingers together. I set my hand on her back to calm her, but it didn’t help. I could feel each breath, short and fast, beneath her sweater. We finally reached the main hall, a giant room with metal tables bolted to the floor. More than one hundred girls sat there, all over the age of twelve. The youngest ones had probably been given over by parents who now lived in the City—parents like Beatrice who’d believed their daughters would have a better life. The oldest were orphans like me.
    They straightened up in their seats when they saw me, their whispers giving way to complete silence. “You all know Princess Genevieve,” Headmistress Burns said, her voice drained of all enthusiasm. “Please rise and show her your respect.”
    The girls stood and curtsied at the same time. They were wearing the same jumpers I’d worn every day that I was here, the New American crest pasted unflatteringly over the front. “Good evening, Your Royal Highness,” they said in unison. I recognized a black-haired eleventh year in the front. She’d played in the band the night before graduation, the music swirling in the air above the lake.
    I gestured for them to sit. “Good evening,” I said, my voice echoing in the room. I scanned the crowd, recognizing