Unbelievable. She literally could not believe it. She was here, at the Queen’s College of London, intruding on generations of history, of stone laden with memories, veneered tradition and past prowess. It was happening at this very moment, and she had yet to come to grip with that fact.

She had worked her bones to dust, studied till her ears bled, focused on that single goal, that farfetched promise of a greater future. Of a life worth living. Her mothers had helped – she gladly admitted to it – but all matters told, the ultimate effort, the ultimate push, had come from her.

She was proud. Incredibly so. Even the usual looks sent her way couldn’t distract her on this day. First of her lineage to be welcomed into these halls, and now first of her cohort to tread the path leading to the humongous gates of the training facility.

She had reached her province’s valedictorian position without realizing it, trying her best at every trial not for the bragging rights, but because she was genuinely worried she would not make the cut.

Truly unbelievable.

Sienna reached the looming entrance where her seniors greeted her and the other initiates, arrayed in neat rows on the sides of the marble stairs. Their crisp dress indicated their cohorts by the hue of their lapels and collars, the rest different shades of red. The cheers and ovations welcomed them into the compound. A beatific smile spread on Sienna’s face.

At the end of the steps were waiting the instructors, each sporting black mantles with colored patches above their heart according to their professed specialization. Sienna had read that each member of the faculty had a preferred object of study and that they would sponsor a select few to lead through those subjects, while the majority of the student body would learn and grow at their own paces. A balance of specialized and generalized training to shape the upper class of tomorrow.

She dearly hoped for one of the combat instructors to pick her. After all, her next goal of entering the Delver Corps wouldn’t bring itself to completion. Nor would her family’s standing improve if she let herself coast on her recent achievements.

Sienna Finley’s family was an offshoot of the original fox demi-humans, a fox male and four other demi-human women. As such, they neither had the support of the human majority nor that of the foxes. Somewhat exiled in Ireland, her mothers had fought tooth and nail to offer their children a better start. An uphill battle it had been, and upon that hill she raised their flag.

Her father had reneged his ties with the main family when her grandmothers had pushed him to marry back into the fox clan, publicly claiming that new blood was needed to further the foxes’ agenda. But the reality of it was that Sienna’s mothers had him snared and fully tamed by the time he reached wedding age. They had been cohort-mates for years before her grandmothers brought the subject to light.

She chuckled at the thought of her moms leading her father by the nose back home. Predictable didn’t begin to describe him when surrounded by such overbearing personalities. A pang of nostalgia assailed her heart, already missing the daily life of the Finley’s household.

Keep it together, Sienna. Today is the first step toward your new life. Don’t falter.

“Welcome to you all, cohort of the year 1464 after the Fall. Today is the day you enter the hallowed halls of the Queen’s College of London.” One of Sienna’s new senior declared from her stand in front of the final steps. “You have been recognized as worthy of greater education, each of you proving reliable and laudable enough. But let me warn you. In the next few years, you will suffer.

“You will sacrifice time to your study, vigor to your training, and many a-nights to reach even further. You can expect support from your betters, from your teachers, but do not expect easy days, nor any shortcut toward excellence. Because that is what is expected of you. Excellence in all duties, and more may you be chosen by one of our instructors.”

Sienna swallowed the thick wad of spit that rested heavily at the back of her throat. She’d thought herself ready, raring to rise to the challenge, yet a buzz of uncertainty jittered her hands.

“Merit and proficiency are the metrics of this university. Prove yourself capable and rewards will flow. Stagnate and be cast away.”

Her resolve surged, certain that she wouldn’t squander this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

“Initiates. Here, you will grow into the best this land has to offer. May you use what you learn to better serve your Queen and country. Welcome.”

At this, all bowed to the new students. Seniors and instructors alike. Sienna felt humbled by the display.

The senior orator straightened back and invited them into the main amphitheater where a general presentation of every subjects they would study took place. The main teachers described at length what Sienna and her fellows would learn and improve upon in the coming years. She had already perused the curriculum when she found out she was accepted and her attention began to stray from the main stage.

Most of her cohort were as young as her but some had a tad more winters behind them, a mark of their struggle to meet expectations – or of their tenacity. A hundred teenagers per province, a half-dozen provinces pooling their best and brightest to form a cohort, and five cohorts staggered so that when one was dissolved, a new one took its place. Sienna foresaw many pointless arguments and empty blusters happening. Even more so because the Queen’s Colleges were mixed academies.

Males weren’t segregated. At least not completely. Lectures and classes were shared, but not housing – thank the Matrons. Which still meant a whole lot of trouble that she could very well do without.

Sienna understood their presence here, her mothers had had many discussions about the growing need for trained and learned clerks and aides in recent years. And those positions were best filled by the men, be they human or demi-human. She was simply wary of the consequences. Even she could see the writing on the wall when it came to teenagers encountering malekind – often for the first time in such a lax environment.

But it was no business of hers. The faculty would handle any troublemaker, as they always had, surely. She should focus on improving herself, seize an honored position in the Delver Corps, and later – much later – worry about finding herself a covenant and a husband.

“Would our valedictorians step up to the dais ?” One of the instructors interrupted her musing.

It was time to face the music. To shoulder the critical gazes her bestial features garnered.

In the brief time it took Sienna to reach the central stage, she marveled at the short sightedness of pure-blooded humans. Dismissing demi-humans for their divergences rather than welcoming their enhanced senses and atypical thinking seemed rather idiotic in her eyes. Alas, she had faced such bigotry for as long as she could recognize it, and the thought only brought a stale sense of disappointment.

Sienna and five other girls gathered behind the speaker. All humans but her.

“Six. This is the number of prides each cohort possess. They will represent your worth as a whole. Time being a finite resource, your training and tutoring slots will be determined by the results achieved by your cohort’s prides. The firsts to be selected for this honor will be the valedictorians of each provinces. After that, your cohort will each trimester elect those best suited to fill that role.”

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That was it. That was her ticket to greatness, to recognition, to glory. And it had already sailed away, out of her grasp. Humans would never allow a half to stand above them, even nominally. Come Summer, she’d be voted out of the prides.

She tried to enjoy the view from the stage, enjoy the fact that she was valedictorian. She, a demi-human.

It tasted bitter.

The orator wrapped up her speech and, with the help of the faculty, directed the students to the dormitories. Broken in groups of four that were each assigned a residence and a room, they filed out of the amphitheater. While the young women started to mingle with their designated roommates, Sienna spotted the males in the back, clad in their pale robes. No more than a couple dozen of them against the five hundred or so girls. An older male, wearing the garbs of an attendant, came and led them to their own dwelling.

Sienna had been motioned to stay on the dais while the hall emptied. With a passing thought, she thanked her mothers for the etiquette lessons they had provided her, even if at the time she had chafed against learning her manners. Standing straight for any amount of time had been hell at first, but she was now fairly used to the strain.

An inexpressive matriarch walked in from a side door. Wearing a vermillion  suit and silver gloves, Sienna knew right away who she was.

Her dark gray hair and small creases around her eyes and mouth spoke of an advanced age, yet her gaze belied it. Cold blue zeroed in on the six girls dutifully waiting on the stage. Each of them got the stare, one after the other, always lasting a second or two longer than what felt comfortable.

The headmistress was imposing, a larger-than-life character Sienna had heard so much about. Only, the stories understated the intensity she radiated.

“Follow me.”

And off she went, back the way she came. The prides cast brief looks at each other before rushing after her. Through corridors, gardens, richly decorated foyers and cloisters, they walked a brisk pace. Sienna brought up the rear, as was expected of a demi-human, while she tried to map their route in her mind. A good exercise for her Psy, and a practical one at that.

They arrived at a well-furnished study, light on embellishment and clearly focused on practicality. The headmistress went behind an austere desk of dark wood and started rummaging through its drawers. With no instruction given, Sienna and the others returned to attention, back straight and hands clasped behind.

“I am Elisabeth Ryder, third of the name, and headmistress of these Halls. But I’m sure you all knew that already.” A hint of amusement crossed her lips.

“As prides of your cohort, you will be granted several prerogatives such as individual chambers and preferential treatment in your courses.” She went over a couple binders while speaking. “You will also bear new responsibilities. Policing your fellows, advising which student deserves which tutorship, organizing group projects…” Finding what she had been looking for, she slid a few brochures to them. “Here is the whole list. Helena, the forms, please.”

A short and cleanly dressed assistant appeared beside the headmistress. Sienna, stressed as she was, hadn’t noticed the smaller desk in the corner nor the woman sat behind it.

“These contracts will establish your places as prides of the ‘64th cohort. You don’t need to sign it to keep the title but doing so will forego the privileges and duties I mentioned.” Helena passed them the forms and the brochures before settling by the door. “Hand them back to any faculty member by the end of the week. Another thing. All classes stay mandatory even if – or when – you earn yourselves a tutorship. Prides do not get to specialize. They set the standard in all things.”

Sienna thought it made sense if the rest of the cohort was judged based on their performances. But it went against her desire to focus on her goal and would waste much of her time on pointless drivel such as rhetoric lessons.

Well, only for the first few months. She reminded herself.

“That will be all. Helena, show them to their rooms. Sans miss Finley, I need a word with her.”

Sienna smelt trouble but kept from showing any of her concern. She soon found herself alone in the office with the headmistress, a woman she had admired as soon as she first heard of her accomplishments. Colonel of the 47th Regiment of Foot at 28 years old, repelled the Iberians at Gibraltar in ‘41, and handpicked by the royal family to become the youngest headmistress the London’s College had ever seen.

Sienna might hold her in rather high regard, but damn the Matrons if that woman didn’t deserve it.

The fact that same woman was now staring at her pointedly made her especially nervous.

“Sienna, correct ?”

“Yes headmistress.”

“Why do you think I asked you to stay ?”

To send her back home, arguing that her kind made for substandard students ? To order her to quietly melt away into the masses and leave the pride position to a proper human ?

“Because of my race, would be my first guess.”

“Hm. Close, but not for the reason you assume. I read your family hails from Cork. How was the journey ?”

Taken aback, Sienna thought something was off, but put it on her frayed nerves.

“Calm. I spent three days on the Blue Moon. I’ve been told we made good sailing.”

“I see.” Miss Ryder gazed at her another long minute.

Sienna kept her hands behind her back, posture crisp.

Is this it ? Should I take my leave ? No, there’s clearly something else. I need to-

“Last week, on the seventeenth of March, the fox clan was disbanded and its matriarchs arrested by royal decree. All their lands, serfs and treasury were seized. Care to hazard why ?”

Frozen in place, Sienna was overcome by a growing buzz between her ears.

“I do not know, headmistress.” She breathed with her eyes fixated on the carpet.

“They were recognized guilty of breeding discontent among the halves and harboring seditious intent.”

Her mind swam in uncertainty. What did it mean for her ? Did the headmistress think that she had anything to do with it ? “I…”

“Does that anger you ?” Unrelenting, the matriarch pressed on.

She’s baiting me. I need to cast away any doubt about my – and my family’s – implication.

Sienna raised her head and faced the stony look of the headmistress. “I am simply appalled that they’d commit such treason.”

“You seem quick to accept their culpability.” She remarqued, poking and prodding for a reaction.

That’s because I have no other choice ! She almost blurted out. “Ma’am, my lineage comes from my father, who cut ties with his clan years ago. My family hasn’t been in contact with them for years. Before I was born, even.” Now to butter her up. “I simply trust the Queen’s judgment more than some faint blood bond.”

“Glad to hear it. But you need to better control your voice. Else you’ll be torn apart by your own cohort when the rumors start spreading.”

Tentatively relieved, Sienna’s throat loosened up. "Thank you for the advice.”

“Chin up, girl. Adversity confronted is worry adverted.” At that, she approached Sienna and laid a hand on her shoulder. “I needed to make sure you would not cause trouble in my halls, I’m sure you understand. Let’s put this matter to rest, it left a bad taste on a lot of tongues.” A smile stretched on the aged woman’s features. Forced as it looked, Sienna could understand its meaning.

Keep your distance from this topic and don’t look into it. Lest other parties take notice.

“Understood, headmistress.”

“Good. Now wait by the door. Once she’s back, Helena will show you to your quarters.”

“Yes headmistress.”

Once outside the office, Sienna let a long sigh escape her lips. Elisabeth Ryder sure knew how to raise the pressure.

The fox girl felt the weight of their discussion settle in the back of her mind. She might have allayed the headmistress’ worry, but soon the students would hear about what had happened. And probably make her life a nightmare. The Queen’s College of London catered to the cream of the crop, promising youths that had managed to climb their way to the top. At least on paper.

The reality was that some had mothers with enough connections to buy their way in, while most had enjoyed years of private tuition, which also required a family of some standing. All in all, only a third of those accepted to the college came from relatively poorer households. As to the actual impoverished of this country, they had no chance.

Which meant that the majority of her classmates had ties with the high society of Britannia. All raised from their infancy to score political points in a game she’d been thrusted upon.

Damn it.