Chapter 50: 50 Assignaments

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50: Assignaments 50: Assignaments The group split up in the courtyard.

The eight from Class 240 headed off toward their assignments, some still held back by their newly received orders, others free to return to their daily duties—their figures fading toward the different wings of the institute, each headed elsewhere.

Thaddeus Pell lingered a moment longer than the others, as if unsure what to do with this sudden freedom.

He looked at Kairan one last time before also moving away, crossing the courtyard toward the exit that led to his wing.

“What’s your name?” he asked, almost in a whisper.

“Kairan.” “I won’t forget,” Thaddeus said, before disappearing through the gate.

Class 290 also prepared to split up.

At the institute, homework wasn’t assigned each morning at Mrs.

Hargrove’s discretion, but rather followed a weekly calendar posted in the common room, consulted on Sunday evening and valid until the following Saturday.

Since it was Tuesday, everyone already knew, without having to ask, where they’d be assigned that day.

“Wood, back kitchen,” Gregory said, setting off without waiting, Samuel at his side.

“Floors, north wing,” Peter said, dragging Clara along by the arm, her book already held ready under her elbow.

“Yard,” Victor said simply, staying where he was—he didn’t even have to move, his assignment was already there, all around him.

“Bathrooms,” Lena said, with a small, resigned grimace.

“The worst of all, but it’s my turn.” Only Amara and Kairan remained, standing in the middle of the deserted courtyard, the hard-packed ground still fresh from the night’s frost.

“And you?” Kairan asked.

“Laundry today,” Amara said, then added, with a small smile, “But I checked the calendar for you first.

I didn’t know if you’d seen it yet, it being your first day.” “And where am I assigned?” “Kitchen,” Amara said, nodding toward the door on the opposite side of the courtyard.

“It’s over there, beyond that door—you can’t miss it, you can already smell it from here.

You’re the only one of the two-hundred-nineties there this morning.

Preparing lunch and dinner, all at once, so the chefs don’t have to call you twice in the same day.

Nothing complicated, they’ll tell you what to do, but you better hurry.” “That was cool,” she added then, changing her tone, more open, warmer.

“What you did with Thaddeus.

Really.” She paused, a smile slowly spreading across her face.

“And I can’t wait to see you in the games this afternoon.

Seriously.” “Thanks,” Kairan said.

He was just about to turn toward the door Amara had indicated when she took a step closer to him, rose slightly on tiptoe, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Fortunately,” he said, laughing, already taking a few steps back, “anything interesting rarely happens in this place.” Kairan stood still for a moment, his hand moving, almost reflexively, to the spot where Amara’s lips had touched it—a gesture that, in the Abyss, had no equivalent, no category into which it could be filed away with the usual ease.

From across the courtyard, a shrill whistle rang out.

“Amara!” shouted Peter, who had turned just in time to see the scene from the entrance to the north wing, his voice betraying uncontainable hilarity.

“What—” “Shut up and go wash the floors!” she replied, without even turning, but still laughing.

Gregory, already halfway to the back kitchen, shook his head with a broad smile, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like “the first day, then…” Clara, standing in the doorway of the north wing next to Peter, raised an eyebrow, her face maintaining its usual analytical composure, though something in her eyes betrayed an interest that went beyond simple observation of the facts.

“Interesting,” she said simply, before disappearing into the building.

Samuel, still beside Gregory, blushed visibly, quickly looking away.

Victor, standing in the center of the courtyard, said nothing, but his eyes rested on Kairan with an unreadable expression for a long moment before returning to his assigned plot.

And Lena, still standing near the bathroom door, simply smiled—a small, spontaneous smile, without a trace of jealousy—before turning and disappearing inside to begin her shift.

Kairan crossed the last stretch of courtyard toward the door Amara had indicated, leaving behind the group dispersing toward their tasks, the voices fading one after another, as the morning moved toward the afternoon that everyone, in one way or another, was waiting for.

Kairan pushed open the kitchen door and found himself faced with an orderly chaos: pots clanging, steam rising from at least three burners on at once, and twenty or soof children, all already dressed in stained white coats, moving between the worktables with the ease of someone who’d been repeating the same gestures for months.

At the center of it all, a burly man with a thick mustache and an apron that must have once been white tapped a ladle against the rim of a pot to attract attention, then pointed it straight at Kairan.

“You’re the new guy,” he said, his voice effortlessly rising above the noise of the kitchen.

“They told me someone would be here this morning.

My name is Renoir Beaumont, I’m in charge here, and those two…” he gestured with the ladle to two women working side by side near the oven, “…are Winifred Cole and Agatha Prowse.

Regulars, like me.

Lunch and dinner, every day, then we leave and the kitchen stays closed until the next morning.” Winifred, a petite woman with surprisingly strong arms for her height, barely looked up from a large pot and gave him a quick nod.

Agatha, older, with gray hair tucked under a cap, didn’t even turn, too focused on something sizzling.

“Go change,” Renoir said, pointing to a narrow door at the end.

“The changing rooms are over there.

Take a gown from the basket; it doesn’t matter if it’s a plus size, you’ll cut them yourself with use.” Kairan crossed the kitchen, past the crowded tables, and found the changing rooms: a cramped little room with coat hangers and a basket of haphazardly folded gowns.

She grabbed one, slipped it over her clothes, and returned to the kitchen.