The entry hall was wide, the ceiling high, but any sense of space was destroyed by the heavy orange and green velvet curtains that hid all the windows.  A steep staircase led up, and another hall continued on.  Into the bowels of the monster, she thought, but movement on the stair distracted her. 
     A woman was descending the stairs -- narrow hipped and stiffly straight, as though an iron rod were down her back.  Her hair was pulled back so tightly that Angella half imagined it was the reason her angular features were so severe, with the skin drawn tight over them.  When she smiled Angella almost expected her face to crack. 
     "Merchant Kaelvyn, how nice to see you again."  She presented a hand, and he bowed over it stiffly. 
     "And you, Mistress Kyzing.  You have made the arrangements for my daughter?"  He laid a hand on Angella's shoulder.
     "Of course, Merchant Kaelvyn.  She has a private room, as you asked, as well as her own tutor.  
Siegnot Lambert has agreed to your choice of salary."
     He nodded.  "And a dance instructor?"
     "
Siegnot Lambert has also taken that post on behalf of the school, and will of course provide lessons for young Angella."  Mistress Kyzing directed an ingratiating towards the subject of her words.  Angella bit her lip and looked down, away from the woman's reptilian eyes. 
     The room was stuffy, the heavy curtains stifling.  Angella felt a fierce pounding begin in her temples, and the air felt too thick, making it hard to breath.  Her head ached.  Mistress Kyzing had turned back to her father.
     "Would you like to see her room, Merchant Kaelvyn?"
     "That won't be necessary.  I must return to my ship before we set sail."  He paused, looking at Angella.  "Behave yourself."
     "Yes Father."
     The merchant nodded shortly, bowed slightly to Mistress Kyzing, and turned, sweeping past the timid little maid and out the door.  Angella flinched as it closed behind him.
     "Lissy!"  Mistress Kyzing snapped.  "Come and show Lady Angella to her room."
     The  maid bobbed a curtsy.  "Yes m'em."  She curtsied to Angella.  "If you'll follow me, milady," she asked the floor. 

     They walked through the silent, dark paneled halls.  The few narrow windows were muffled in heavy velvet drapes.  The corridors were dim, and here too the air felt heavy, weighing down on Angella like her father's hand.  The maid's heavy boots clicked on the tiled floor.  Such a loud sound, in the lonely passage.  Her aching head bowed.  And then, from the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of sun, a gleam of light...She turned, jerking free of the air's spell. 
Before her, sunlight lay in lazy pools across a polished wooden floor.  Wide, arched windows stretched between ceiling and floor, framed by gauzy curtains of sky-blue.  The high ceiling was painted with the graceful shapes of winged angels and garlands of white roses bordered the top of the walls.  The room was empty except for a piano in the corner and a number of slipper chairs against one wall.  Angella stepped through the door, and the maid, not missing her silent presence, continued on. 
Soft breezes brushed over her skin like a balm, and she let the scarf slip down to her shoulders, lifting her face to the sunlight.  She stood in the center of the room, head tilted back, and for the first time since her mother's death felt some semblance of peace...
"So you are the angel."
Angella spun around, the heavy skirts of her school dress swirling around her, entangling her legs and tripping her.  She landed in heap of green velvet, wide eyes searching for the scarf that had fluttered away from her.  They found instead an elderly gentleman, white haired and wrinkled.  He bowed to her, formally, and then offered his hand to her.  She stared at it for a moment, then reached out and laid her smaller one within his.  She was drawn gently to her feet, and her hand bowed over again.  His hands felt different from the duke's; they had slim fingers with quiet, courteous strength.  Francis' hands were large and strong and had been very gentle with hers.  She remembered that very well...but the memory was tainted; thoughts of that night brought thoughts of her mother, and from these she flinched away, stepped back from the stranger, and looked again for her scarf.  It was in his hands.  She opened her mouth to ask for it, politely, but he forstalled her with a raised finger, and, before she could protest, lifted it himself and gently wrapped it over her curls, just as Lissy tumbled breathless through the door. 
"Oh milady!  It's not an hour 'til dinner, and Mistress Kyzing will have such a fuss if I don't have you settled afore th' bell so's I ken help in the kitchens!  Oh please, milady, don't tell her I lost you!  It's more than my ears are worth!"
"I shan't tell her," Angella said quietly. 
"Oh, thank you milady!  Won't you come and see your room now?"
"Yes, of course."
She followed the relieved Lissy to the door, pausing to look back once over her shoulder.  He bowed to her yet again, pressing a hand to his chest, and then turned away, going out an arched door on the opposite side of the room.  Angella went out, back into the oppresive air of the school.  Somehow it seemed slightly more bearable now.

Angella's room was much like the rest of the school; gracefully aged rooms whose natural beauty was shrouded in thick velvet drapes full of dust, and furnished with an odd mix of lovely pieces and eyesores.  The carpet and walls were of ivory, and there was heavy dark wood paneling everywhere, its color mimicked by the roof beams.  A window seat, with thick white satin cushions, was cloaked in the heavy drapes, and the bed of ebony as well.  A slipper bench, also of ebony and white satin, was at its foot, and it was draped with a satin coverlet of quilted down, also white. 
She stood in the middle of this strange room, with its mix of lovely and vulgar, thick air and gentle breeze.  Something beautiful, graceful, trapped beneath a heavy web of dust and disapproval.  She felt a sudden rush of sympathy for the spirit of this room, and stepped around where her trunks lay to fling open the windows.  She pulled back the drapes, letting as much sunlight as possible into the chambers that were now hers. 
Lissy, carrying in a bowl and pitcher of warmed water, let out a short shriek.  "Oh milady, what would the mistress say if she saw this?  Why, you'll catch your death, standing in such a draft!"
Angella looked up, surprised.  "Does the mistress often come in this room?"
"Why, no milady, she never comes into the students rooms.  Come away from the window now, milady, do!  You'll be sick, and it'll all fall t' me, it will!"
Angella let herself be drawn away from the sunlight, and Lissy pulled the curtains closed.  The thick air closed around her again, and her head bowed wearily as she prepared for the evening meal.
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