Charles chuckled. ‘My apologies, Olivia.’
She felt her head. She didn’t want a big, fat bump messing up the hair style she had planned for the wedding. ‘Do you know where Ivy’s gone?’
Charles adjusted his thin red tie and brushed the lapel of his navy blazer. ‘She’s out with your grandmother this morning.’ Olivia didn’t need to be told any more. It had to be Wallachia stuff – one more thing to give her a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
It was starting to feel . . . real. Ivy might not be coming back to Franklin Grove with her. First Jackson and now her twin. It seemed like everyone was leaving her.
‘You’re welcome to join Lillian and me for breakfast out on the terrace,’ her bio-dad offered.
Olivia rubbed her temples, trying to erase the sad thoughts. ‘Thanks, but I think I’m going to skip breakfast and get some work done while Ivy’s away.’
Charles frowned. ‘It’s first thing in the morning. What is there to be done for your article?’
Olivia laughed at his bewilderment. ‘There is a wedding happening tomorrow in this house. And that means that somewhere in this ginormous mansion, there is some craziness happening; some task that needs some organising.’
Charles looked thoughtful. ‘You’re right. Weddings can take a lot of organising. The outfits, the wedding favours, the music for the first dance . . .’
Olivia shook her head. Since when has he been thinking about all this sort of stuff?
‘Here we are.’ Ivy’s grandmother kissed her cheek. ‘I will leave you to it. This decision has to be yours and yours alone. I don’t want you to feel as if I’m hovering over you, pressuring you one way or the other.’ She peered at Ivy from underneath an elegant, wide-brimmed hat.
Ivy gazed up at the towering iron gates of Wallachia Academy. The Countess had crept into Ivy’s room early that morning and rapped on her coffin. Apparently her grandmother didn’t know about her strict policy against activities pre-9 a.m. After Ivy had bolted down a quick breakfast of plasma pancakes, Horatio had driven the two of them here. Now she was completely overwhelmed by the spindly turrets and stone gargoyles of the old, Gothic buildings.
Large bats and a thorny rose-stem design were carved into the wrought-iron gates, supported by two massive pillars. In the middle was the same crest Ivy had been obsessing over every day on her computer – two bats on either side of a blood-red shield. Ivy felt like she was dreaming. After imagining it and thinking about it almost constantly, here she was, actually at Wallachia.
Should I go or should I not? That had been the persistent question on Ivy’s mind, and this visit was the biggest step yet towards making that decision.
Ivy squeezed her grandmother’s hand. ‘I’ll see you soon,’ she said. ‘And I promise to give it a fair chance.’
The Countess smiled. ‘That’s all I ask.’
The gates creaked as they were dragged open by a tall, spooky vampire in a dark-grey suit, who looked like he might have been related to Horatio. Here goes nothing. Ivy waved one last goodbye to the Countess and Horatio – who showed no sign of recognising the spooky vampire – before stepping inside. The campus was quiet and peaceful, like a fancy cemetery without the headstones. Pristine emerald lawns stretched as far as she could see, and neatly raked gravel crunched beneath her feet on the drive. Flags bearing the school motif fluttered from the towers and the mullioned windows winked in the sunlight. This place makes Franklin Grove look cheap and nasty! she thought, remembering how impressed Olivia had been when she’d first seen the school’s ivy-covered pillars back at home. Wallachia Academy was off the scale.
Ivy suddenly felt very self-conscious in her jeans and black T-shirt. Perhaps I should have gone with my wrap dress, after all . . .
‘Welcome to Wallachia Academy, Miss Vega,’ said Horatio Two. ‘I trust you will enjoy your visit.’ If only Olivia were here! She would have been super-scared of the old-school vamp. Ivy felt a stab of sorrow. This was an area of her life that Olivia would never be able to be a part of.
Ivy forced the thought out of her mind. She had promised her grandmother she would put her best foot forward. Forcing an Olivia-style smile on her face, she continued up the impossibly long and curving walkway that led to the main building.
‘Wallachia Academy was founded by Vladimir Ivanov, the longest-living vampire of all time.’ Horatio Two trailed one step behind her, reciting the school’s history. They passed a large stone sculpture of a stern-looking vampire riding a stately-looking horse. ‘The Academy,’ he continued, ‘has produced some of the finest vampire thespians, artists and Nobel laureates. In fact, it was right here under this very stone archway that Shakespeare wrote his first sonnet.’
‘Shakespeare was a vampire?’ Ivy spluttered.
Horatio Two leaned in and lowered his voice. ‘In an early draft of Romeo and Juliet, the Montagues were based on a very well-regarded family here in Transylvania.’ Woah! Just wait until I tell Sophia, Ivy thought. She’ll be amazed! Then Ivy’s heart sank a little bit – she had no idea when she’d be seeing her friend next. Ivy felt cast adrift without her old friends, and so far she had no new friends at all.
The sound of their footsteps echoed on the black-and-white marble floors as Horatio Two led Ivy inside to a cavernous reception area.
‘You may have a seat, Miss Vega.’ He gestured to a row of what Ivy could only describe as thrones. At least, they were the plushest chairs she had ever seen in a waiting room. ‘Your guide will be with you shortly.’