Behind Closed DoorsBenedict opened a servant’s door to one of the building’s many hidden inner corridors. “Through here, if you would.” As he got a better look at Cynwyd, a look of recognition passed over his face. His mouth moved slightly, as if to form a name. But then dullness clouded his eyes and the moment passed. When they were in the empty corridor, Benedict sealed the door behind them. “End of the hall, turn right and third door on the left.” He struggled to smile at Rusalka, the leaden movement of his lips unsettling. “I hope you will forgive the anesthetizing effect my speech had on you.” Although she found the smile unusual to say the least, it was also a little contagious. Rusalka's answering smile was half-amused, half-distressed. "Oh, no, sir, don't think that! I'm just... I've been sort of ill lately, it's affected me oddly. I'm sorry to have ruined the ceremonies." Benedict led them farther into the building’s labyrinthine interior. “Ruined? Hardly. You saved the assembly from one of the Vice Chancellor’s speeches. They – we – should be grateful.” The lack of humor in his voice made it difficult to tell when he was joking. Rusalka, unable to tell if it was a joke or not, made the assumption she had been raised to make - that it was. She giggled. "I *like* the speeches," she added defensively and not at all falsely. "Usually." Cynwyd, on the other hand, if not anesthetized was very much subdued by Prince Benedict's presence. His usual personality was very much not at the fore, though he did wonder at the Prince's reaction to him. It was the second time that he'd recalled that happening... or maybe the third. And they all happened since... ~You there? Do you have anything to do with this?~ he thought. ~Or have any ideas? That was spooky at best,~ he added, remembering what happened to ... Rusalka. He tilted his head, looking at her intently. For some reason, the name didn't seem to fit, though for the life of him, he didn't know why he would think that. ~The Pattern was pulling me back. The effect may have been caused by that.~ The Voice replied, distant but louder than it have ever been during the day. ~And be cautious of this one, my boy. She reeks of the Jewel. She is more than she appears. Fortunately, Scarecrow never was proficient in such things and remains unaware. Let us maintain this ignorance.~ "What do you remember of the incident?" he added, speaking out against his own better judgment. Rusalka turned her attention to Cynwyd, her smile fading. "Just... I came in late because I thought I could get into one more class and the line was sort of long, and I wanted to go sit with a friend in the first row, but I was trying to be subtle about moving, you know, not block anyone's view, and then... I felt funny. Sort of dizzy, nauseous, like I was floating or was going to pass out... And then, I guess I did, because when my eyes opened I had fallen and everyone was around me. It's not... I mean, I've just been a little off lately. It isn't serious." "I'm sure it's not," Cynwyd said, nodding- as much to her, as to the voice in his head. "However, giving me this chance to help you lets me show Prince Benedict that Faiella does indeed have a positive influence on even its most wayward of students." She giggled, shaking her head. "You all seem very kind to me." She still felt dizzy and was leaning on Nadine a bit more than she had intended. "I'd better... sit down for a second," she said, edging toward the infirmary bed. Cynwyd attempted to take more of her weight as he moved with her toward the bed. Though still concerned over the voice's assessment of Rusalka- and what he had seen with his own eyes- he was still able to appreciate the incongruity of his aim in getting this beautiful woman to bed and his usual motives. "It would seem that the nurse should be here by now," he said absently. "Perhaps, if you could go see what would be keeping her," he said, turning his attention to the other girl. Nadine shied under Cynwyd’s gaze. A voice interrupted them. “No need, no need,” a woman said, entering the infirmary. She wore a white coat and thick glasses. Her brown hair matched her motherly eyes. “Marianne,” Benedict said. “My lord Benedict,” Marianne replied, pushing past him to assist Nadine. She clucked her tongue in disapproval, examining Rusalka’s head wound. “Well, it certainly won’t kill you.” She looked over her glasses at the others. “Did anyone see this happen?” Despite the fact that she had, in fact, seen it, Rusalka kept quiet and allowed herself to enjoy being fussed over. It wasn't going to be a difficult story to keep straight and given Cardovan girls' reputations, it was as believable as anything and much more believable than the truth. Cynwyd considered for a moment, looking at Rusalka, wondering at the voice's words. If it had anything to do with the things he'd seen recently, the nurse couldn't help, and it would not do any good to say anything about it now. After one last look at the the girl, he turned to face the nurse, and began to lie. "I did indeed see it," he said. "There was nothing amiss about her actions before the spell- it seemed that she attempted to brace herself, missed, and fell to the ground. The abrupt fall must have stunned her as she didn't seem to break her fall at all, and lay insensate for a few moments before coming around." Marianne listened intently to this. “Is this what you saw as well?” she asked Nadine. The timid medical student nodded. “Aye, madam. She’d been hurrying toward the front of the auditorium. And then she suddenly collapsed. By the time I got to her, she wasn’t breathing. Or if she was, it was very shallow.” Benedict added, “The students have the truth of it, Marianne. I took note of Student Cardovan before her collapse.” Marianne sighed softly, “Very well.” She retreated to her apothecary chest and began removing several bottles of foul smelling salves. “It isn’t as bad as it looks. Nothing that a flesh-balm can’t fix. You’re a lucky girl, Rusalka.” Rusalka couldn't quite hide the grimace of disagreement brought on by that statement. 'Lucky' was not a word she would have chosen to describe her experiences lately. She forced the grimace into a smile and said, "I suppose so, but I can't help wishing not to have caused such a fuss. Lady Rose..." her eyes widened. What on earth was Lady Rose going to think? It would get back to her parents... Marianne clucked her tongue again, “Pish-posh. If Lady Rose speaks ill of you, she will sound like a harpy.” She dabbed the wound with a salve that stung for a moment, only to numb Rusalka’s pain an instant later. Nadine watched in wonder. Benedict folded his arms and grew increasingly uncomfortable. “Well then. If there is nothing further for me to do. . .” he said hopefully. "I would be most happy to stay with her if your duties call you away," Cynwyd offered. "Thank you, Student Barimen," Benedict replied. "I see Commander Kel's words hold truth." He bowed his head and skulked out. Adrenaline and relief at her lies being accepted mixed together and made Rusalka somewhat giddy. She giggled. "He's just exactly the way I'd expected in this situation." Curiously, she looked at Cynwyd. "Commander Kel? So you're a swordsman?" "Most of the times I feel more the target dummy," Cynwyd replied wryly. "But I am on the fencing team, for whatever that is worth." "What about you?" he queried, more relaxed now that he was not under the scrutiny of Prince Benedict. "Is this your first year? I'd think that I'd remember seeing you before if not." A bluish light flared around Marianne’s fingers and Rusalka felt soothing warmth pulse over her brow. The magic knitted the wound together, leaving behind only a dull, red line where the cut had been. “Right as rain,” she announced. Nadine clapped in appreciation. “Now,” the churgeon said. “Here are three medical passes. They will save you any grief with the faculty.” She clucked her tongue, “Cynwyd. I expect you to escort the lady to her class. Your presence does her well. And Nadine, you will come to me after school. I need an assistant and you just volunteered.” She poked Rusalka in shoulder. “And you. No more swooning.” "Yes, ma'am," Rusalka grinned, and then impulsively covered the poking hand with her own. "And thank you." She looked at Nadine, and then Cynwyd. "Thank you all." Cynwyd merely inclined his head. "My help was slight, but all the same a pleasure," he said sincerely. Rising and smoothing her skirts, she did a little twirl for Cynwyd. "Second year, but... the Flowers took up a lot of my time last year. Where is your next class?" "Wycliffe Hall," Cynwyd replied offhandedly, enjoying the view. "Some philosophical class that I had to take to round out my schedule- a bore to be sure." "And yourself? It might be pertinent considering that I'm supposed to be escorting you," he queried, the other two women in the room already forgotten. "Mine's International Business, but I can't remember..." Rusalka dug through her pockets for her class schedule. "Um, yes... it's... HEA. What's HEA? Heatherton Hall?" "As much as I'd like to be the shining knight and have the answer, in this case, I can't accomodate," Cynwyd said regretfully. "I believe that you're correct, but I stay away from the Practical Arts as much as possible." Casually, he reached out with one hand and stopped a passing underclassman with books stacked up to almost his eyes. Or rather his black rimmed, thick lensed glasses. "Heatherton Hall- that would be 'HEA' on a schedule, right?" Tottering under his load, the pale boy's reedy reply was lost in the rumble of books as he lost his precarious hold on them. He looked down in despair at the pile that he'd probably waste precious minutes trying to restore to their place in his hands. "What was that?" Cynwyd asked. "Yes," the boy replied, looking up at him as he brushed his unkempt mousy hair out of his eyes. "Thanks," Cynwyd said without a backward glance. "So we're on the right path, it seems," he said to Rusalka, turning his attention back to her. "Oh, good," Rusalka smiled at him, but knelt beside the underclassman for a moment, helping him with a few books. "If you hold your hands out, we can have those back in a minute," she suggested. "Heatherton's not very close to Wycliffe, so it's a good thing we've got passes," she said conversationally. "The liberal studies package for young ladies is heavy on practical, sadly. Is your major more fun?" If the books had been Rusalka's, there would have been no thought in Cynwyd's mind- he'd have helped her with them. But she was helping someone that he wouldn't even give the time of day. The moment of indecision passed as fast as the task of getting the underclassman on his way, but the feeling did not pass with it. Putting a smile on his face, he held out his hand to bring her to her feet as he responded, "Well, I enjoy music, so yes, that part of it is. Of course, I do have to take the standard classes, so there are several parts of it to complain about, if I was wont to do so." "And what do you do outside of class?" he asked. She was very light on her feet as she took his hand and responded to his smile with an easy one of her own. "Explore, mostly. I love the city but I've only just recently been able to go to certain parts of it alone... or at least without bodyguards. And I'm part of the gymnastics team and the second string dance team. And the Flowers still take up a lot of time. Do you play an instrument?" Rusalka could jump from one thought to another in a second and never seemed at all aware that she had even changed the subject. "A few... guitar is my favorite though. I play at a little club in town to pass the time and hone my skills," he responded. "Bodyguards you say?" "Mmmhmm," she nodded, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Daddy used to be very overprotective, before I was of age. He still doesn't like me out late, except near University. But now it's chaperones, not bodyguards. Apparently, the school frowns on people bringing their thugs with them to campus." Her grin widened, showing her dimples. "Which club do you play at and may I come and watch you?" "It's a quaint club ensconced off of Temple Street, not far from the campus. And I'd be honoured to have you as my guest," Cynwyd said, looking as surprised as he would have had this not been his intent all along. "Oh, I think I've been there. Delightful! It's settled then. Just let me know what evening would be best," she noted his surprise but breezed over it. As they approached Rusalka's class she slowed down. "We're not even all that late," she said, almost plaintively. "What a waste of an excuse." The quad appeared empty except for a first-year overburdened with a pile of tomes. A large blue frog peered over the brim of her non-regulation hat. She cast a smile in their direction before heading toward the Bridge. "I suppose I'll see you later then," Rusalka said, still sounding disappointed. "It was nice to meet you, whatever the circumstances." "Considering that we do have the excuses," Cynwyd suggested lightly, "and that this period is the last before lunch, we could always find something more interesting to do..." "After all, it would be terrible to waste the opportunity," he added, smiling. Rusalka's sparkled. "I like the way you think! Um... there's a pretty little walk over this way, and not many people come down it, so we won't be found out to be skipping." "Sounds good to me!" Cynwyd said enthusiastically. "So, tell me more about you," he queried as they walked. "Me? Not much to tell, really. I'm the youngest daughter of Demetri Cardovan, I'm a second year," she thought about it. "I don't faint a lot, so that was new. I... oh - I'm a gymnast and a decent dancer - like third string." As they approached the shaded walkway, she said, "What else do you want to know?" "Many things come to mind," Cynwyd said easily, his eyes mirroring his smile as he looked at the woman. "But first on the list, I guess, is whether I should be looking out for some hulking brute that might think seeing you walking with me unchaperoned is an infringement on 'his girl'," he said wryly. Rusalka laughed. "No worries there! We might start some rumors but... I think people like to talk about other people and it gives them something to do. What about you? Do you have a girlfriend?" Cynwyd wrinkled his nose. "Too much like ownership for me," he replied. "I personally think it all comes down to respect- and if you respect each other, and enjoy each other's company, then why put such labels on it?" "I believe it *is* financial," Rusalka considered. "I have to marry for the good of the House - status, finances, futures. I'm supposed to be in love, but if not - a good match is a good match." She sighed. "That's depressing. Let's talk about something else. Tell me about yourself." "If you want something less depressing, you don't want to hear the story of my life," Cynwyd said ruefully. "Not much to tell, truthfully. It appears that you are smarter than I, to toe the family line," he continued, shrugging. "I chose the road less traveled, and as soon as my mother was with child again, I could see the writing on the wall, and decided to absent myself from the House- and the other side of reality seemed to put just enough of a buffer between myself and my dear parents that I so far continue to draw breath." "But I happily ignore the Damocles Sword I live under, content to go to school and enjoy my exile," he said, his voice light, though the smile on his face might have appeared a bit tight, and not quite to reach his eyes. Rusalka either missed the subtleties entirely or was eager to change the subject. "And are you enjoying it? It must be very different from what you're used to. I always wonder how the people from Chaos adjust so well - I think if I were uprooted and set down over there I'd... make a fool of myself." "Don't think I haven't," Cynwyd said, dropping the subject as smoothly as if it had never been brought up. "But the adventure is well worth it," he continued. "You get to make the acquaintance of all sorts of interesting people," he added with a smile. "It appears that I have successfully monopolized your time for the whole period," Cynwyd said, his words punctuated by the tolling of the hour. "But I must ask while I still have your attentions, how should I call upon you?" Rusalka sighed at the sound of the bell, and said, "Time flies. Um... come by some night you're playing. I'm at Lily Hall. Just say you're going to pick up Rusalka Cardovan. Half the girls will try to convince you not to wait, but they should ring up to me. You won't forget? I really do want to hear you play." |
