2 They Call Her 'Boots'

Ash waited listlessly for Celia in the common room of their dorm building. It had stopped snowing outside and the sun was peeking through the clouds. A few students were milling around the dorm: some were still in their pajamas, while others, like Ash, were standing around in their uniforms.

Normally, Ash would be one of the students walking around in pajamas at this time, one hour before the start of morning assembly, but the dream had cut her sleep short and so she had gotten dressed and ready for school an hour earlier than usual.

Celia had been excited to have a leisurely breakfast with Ash. She was in such a good mood that she ran back upstairs to change out of her regular black winter coat and look for her "special coat" to wear to breakfast.

Ash thought it was a lovely gesture. Celia's "special coat" was an expensive green designer coat that Celia only wore on days when they were allowed to leave the campus to go to the city. Ash secretly thought that Celia looked like an Elfish Princess when she wore this coat.

Ash on the other hand, did not own a special designer coat. In fact, she did not own any designer items at all. This made her a bit of an anomaly at the fancy Saint Blaise's Academy.

Saint Blaise's Academy was an international boarding school for gifted children.

Saint Blaise's had a fabled history. In its early years, it had served as a sanctuary school for the children of persecuted immigrants and heirs of displaced royalty. It's location in the far country side had made it a safe place for children during war time as it was very far inland. Currently, in peace time, however, it made for a very remote and very exclusive boarding school for the heirs of the elite rich and the rare and occasional qualified scholars.

The mix of immigrant children and royal heirs that made up the first batch of students at Saint Blaise's were legendary. Growing up together at a time of war, they had formed a family bond, and when those graduates had left the school together at the end of the Great War, they had gone on to change the world as statesmen, scientists, philanthropists, and great leaders. Those great graduates had come together at Saint Blaise's as poor downtrodden children and rose up to conquer the world.

That was a hundred and fifty years ago. For the last twenty years, however, the Academy had been short of poor downtrodden children. Instead, it had an influx of affluent international students from influential families and a weakened scholarship system that allowed only one or two scholars from less fortunate families every year.

Two years ago, Ash was her year's only scholar. She was actually the first scholar the Academy had admitted in the last five years.

"Hey, Boots!" A husky voice called out to her.

Ash turned around to see the Comtesse Isabelle Valois walking toward her. She was wearing a light blue pea coat over her winter uniform and the color brought out the light blue of her eyes.

"Good morning, Lady!" Ash replied with a mock curtsy.

Isabelle Valois blinked slowly and scoffed. She shook her head at Ash.

"And you presume to mock me on the first snow of the season? What compels you to be so bold, Little Boots?"

Boots had been the nickname bestowed on Ash during her first few days at the Academy. She had joined the Academy at the beginning of summer and while all the students had been wearing espadrilles and light sneakers with their summer uniforms, Ash, who had no other shoes, had gone to her first day of school wearing long socks and heavy working boots.

A long-haired boy standing across from her at morning assembly had pointed at her shoes, and he had whispered about them loud enough for all the underclassmen in the back to hear him.

"Boots!" he said, eyes wide with glee.

Even before the homeroom teacher could introduce her as "Ash Parker" to the rest of the first period class that morning, everyone in her year already knew her as "Boots."

While Ash had since retired the working boots she had been named after in favor of school-issued leather shoes, the name had stuck. Ash didn't mind the nickname. On most days she kept it close to her chest, wearing it like a badge of honor.

"Forgive me, My Comtesse! I meant to say 'My Lady' for I am ever at your service!" Ash said, bowing lower and bending her knees so they nearly touched the ground.

"You stupid commoner! Come here."

Ash sighed and looked up at Isabelle. Isabelle's eyes had narrowed into angry little slits. The Comtesse tapped her expensive boots on the floor and flipped her honey brown hair over her shoulder.

"Well, hurry up!"

Ash straightened her back and smoothed down her school-issued overcoat. Isabelle had already crossed her arms in front of her chest. Ash began to walk toward the stairwell where the Comtesse was standing. Isabelle raised her chin imperiously and over her long patrician nose, she looked down at Ash.

Ash felt tired. It was too early in the morning for all of this.