The girl's dormitory was actually smaller than the boys with fewer rooms. This made perfect sense when one realized, at one time in history, the daughters of aristocratic families were discouraged from pursuing wizardry. Of course, things were more enlightened now, but the evening of girls to boys was a work in progress as some old biases died hard.
One could only imagine, Richelle thought, how slowly folks would accept the commoners. She didn't even want to be here, and she was sure she'd still face noses in the air from the other girls here. So far, her own family pride had been treated as naive and pretentious, she was after all, a peasant, no different from the daughter of street sweeper in import as far as it seemed to the others she'd met.
Perhaps, she hoped, that was her anger and despair talking from deep within her. She glanced at the chit in her hand. The symbol on it seemed to taunt her: A broken circle. One small section of it broken off in a jagged, ragged, isolated piece.
How cruelly appropriate, she thought. Well, be it cruelty by chance, fate, or some administrator's design, she went about the doors looking for its match. She wasn't a stranger to finding inventory under a foreign system of organization and found the correct door after only a few minutes. Her hand went to the knob, and she paused there.
She reminded herself not every new transition had been terrible. Sir Brianor had been a gent, and Vandien and Lyam were , well, boys, but they'd also been kind in their way. She had seen the other commoner girl, Flower, but hardly knew had time to get to know her and they were not sharing a room, judging by the differing chits. The world was horrible, but she didn't have to be.
Be friendly, her mother said, and folks will be friendly back. It had not worked that way very often, but maybe with others her own age.. one hand on the door knob, she knocked with the other.
"Yes, who is it?" Someone said from within in an almost sing song way.
"My name is Richelle Dache, I believe I'm your new room mate, Are you...decent?" Richelle inquired.
There was a soft sound of footsteps. The door opened from the other side, nearly smashing into Richelle and it would have had she not backed up quickly. A bulbous nosed girl with dark hair stuck her face out and glared in confusion "Dache? Isn't that some ... merchant company?"
"Merchant family," Richelle put her hands before her, waiting to be allowed into what was supposed to be her assigned room, "One of the most successful in the country."
The aristocrat, who had still not given her own name, made the same sort of expression one gets when they bite into something unpleasant, "They did it. They really let peasants into the Academy? I thought it was a joke in poor taste that wouldn't die. It's real?"
"Sadly," Richelle replied coolly, "For both of us, it is." Some part of her wanted to grab the girl, yank her out of the way, and find a bed, a real bed. HER bed, at least her assigned one. Instead she held up the chit, "And this is the room I've been assigned to. And you are?"
"Appalled," the girl sniffed, "I'd hoped for this room to be just for me. Bad enough I must share it, but to have to share it with a commoner girl? Ugh."
I'm a person, not a roach, you hag in training, Richelle thought but she decided perhaps her own hostility was leaking out and being returned. Giving it another chance, she put on the warmest smile she could manage, banishing the cold annoyance she herself felt, and said to her room mate, "I assure you, if I could have stayed with my own family, I would have. It seems neither of us is entirely pleased with the situation but as we're about to become acquainted with each other regardless, perhaps we should put the best face we can on it."
"I suppose you could be useful for cleaning up now and then," the other girl relented and moved out of the way.
You suppose incorrectly, Richelle thought rather loudly, allowing her view to show in a lifted chin and a dignified stride in. She had tried it her mother's way and once again, it had come to naught. She decided then and there, this 'fellow student' whoever she was, would not get one chore out of her. The school was supposed to have all new students on equal footing, and while that was, no doubt, a farce in this society, this bitch was not going to reduce her to her personal maid servant.
There were two beds in the room. One was quite nice, if tawdry and overblown with frills. The other? Well, the other couldn't be seen for it was buried under the bulk of what must have been excess clothing belonging to the first girl. There was a jewelry box, a clothing footlocker (on the actual mattress) and a number of shoes. Whatever the name of Richelle's room mate was ,she clearly had not gotten the same 'travel light' speech as the commoner students had.
It was obvious one bed was being used for sleeping, the other for storage, but still Richelle asked, "Which bed would you like to use? I'll take the other."
"I need both," The bitch sneered, "You? You can grab a blanket and sleep on the floor."