《Nora and the Search for Friendship》Chapter 26 - Think of Me
Advertisement
The next couple of days aren’t as full of exams. There’s only one exam per subject and, by Thursday, there’s only a couple of classes I haven’t sat an exam for yet. Unless I’m forgetting something, it’s just accounting tomorrow left.
Since the weather’s been nicer this week, I’m hoping earth magic class might involve gardening, eyeing up the ground as I walk over after the last lesson. Like last week, the room mostly fills up by the time Mr Churt arrives and he shuts the door behind him. He strides to the head of the room, putting down his briefcase on the desk before turning to face us.
Not wasting any time, he clears his throat and starts, his clear yet soft voice making me think of a butler. However, that image is at odds with his look, a little on the short side and a ratty face that seems to settle into a snarl. Not that he’s scary or anything, but I guess he’s “ugly”. In the upper-class, one of the hiring requirements for servants (that are seen) is that they’re pleasant to look at. Maids especially need a youthful beauty, manservants a good height. It’s not enough to hire help, you have to show you can hire the best (looking) help. Anyway, I’m saying all that, but I just mean it’s unusual for me to see someone who’s “ugly” at the school or at home. That said, you can’t exactly put the same requirements on the actual people who make up the upper-class, so it’s a mix of beautiful and average people (with makeup, good tailoring, and so on).
Oh right, he’s talking.
“—project per term. For this short period until the winter break, we shall look to establish the basics of what plants require to grow—”
And I’m losing interest, his words piling up in my head. Once he finishes, I skim through what he said, reducing it to: We’ll grow some cress. Wonderful. It’s not like Ellie did that by herself when she was five, using cotton wool and half an eggshell.
Nothing really matters, so we can also work in whatever size groups we want and, though he prattles a bit, all we have to do is keep the cress from drying out. I mean, I’m pretty sure you can grow cress in water, so we probably can’t even overwater it.
And while all the ladies split up into their friendship huddles, I look around for a certain sneezy prince. It’s only out of kindness, of course, no doubt difficult for him being the only guy in the class. Though he’s easy to miss, I spot him and tiptoe my way around the others to sit down next to him.
“Lord Hastings,” I say, bowing my head.
After a moment, he says, “Lady Kent, was it?” His tone is dry, and there’s a certain sentiment of “You again?” to his words.
But I’m not easily deterred. “Won’t you join my group?” I ask.
“And who exactly is in your group?”
“Well, excluding myself, no one,” I say, keeping count of everyone on my fingers. “So you would be a founding member as it were.”
Advertisement
He can’t catch himself in time, a brief laugh escaping. “You certainly have a way with words.”
“Thank you,” I say, bowing my head.
“You’re welcome; though, I didn’t precisely intend it to be a compliment.”
“Then you should take care lest you leave a lady less level-headed than I with the wrong impression,” I say at him.
He gently shakes his head, but can’t shake his smile. “I am rather sure the blame in this case lies squarely on your shoulders.”
“So if I water the cress Monday through Thursday, would you do so Friday through Sunday?”
Rubbing his face, he hides his mouth behind his hand. “You changed the topic rather suddenly there.”
“It’s called being considerate. I wouldn’t want to linger on how rude it is of you to blame me for what you yourself said, or do you mean to make me out as that sort of woman?”
His hand sliding higher, he rubs his forehead and a groan slips out of him. “You’re the worst sort of person to deal with.”
“I really would prefer it if you could at least do just the weekend, but if you are also busy then then I wouldn’t mind splitting it between us, one day each.”
He sighs. “You’re doing it again.”
Leaning forward, I make sure to catch his eye. “As tolerant as I am, I will send a letter to your mother,” I say sternly.
“Shouldn’t you complain to your own parents instead?”
Nodding my head, I say, “You have entirely underestimated me.”
Despite his words becoming sharper until now, he asks, “In what way?” with a light-hearted tone.
“I will simply introduce myself as a good friend of yours and thank her for raising such a gentleman. This will inevitably lead to you being questioned about our relationship. No matter how much you deny it, that will only further fuel her misunderstanding. Can you imagine how fun Yule will be? Constantly being asked if I should come for a visit, or what sort of present would I like. Of course, I will send you a greeting for the holiday—and make sure the contents are such that you couldn’t possibly show it to them.”
Pausing to catch my breath (not wanting to become breathless), I smile at him.
“Need I go on?”
He returns my gaze with a mask, not showing any of his emotions. Well, I say that, but that he isn’t just spitting back some reply tells me I’ve suitably chastised him.
“As long as you understand,” I say, breaking away to check for the teacher. It doesn’t look like he’s back yet, still getting the greenhouse ready for us.
Barely a whisper, he says, “I can’t tell if you like or hate me.”
After a short giggle behind my hand, I say, “I would like to be friends and nothing more. Is that strange?”
His lips curl into a reluctant smile. “I stand by what I said.”
Really, who knows what he means by that.
“So, can you do weekends or should we split them?” I ask, pushing the conversation back there now we’ve sorted things out. He goes along with me, but it’s half-hearted.
Advertisement
Mr Churt comes back soon and has us all follow him to the nearest greenhouse. They’re big, about half the size of a classroom. Not enough room for us all to stand inside (only a couple of aisles of free space inside, the rest being tables with trays of plants), we loosely crowd around him on a patio in front of the greenhouse.
After explaining what we’ll do, he has us come in, one group at a time. Julian and I naturally fall to the back. So far, I think we’ve avoided attention because he’s easily overlooked (pun somewhat intended), but when it comes to our turn, even Mr Churt gives us a bit of a look before walking inside.
This greenhouse is just a greenhouse. The other one is actually heated by an enchantment, allowing for some things to be grown out of season or for more exotic plants to be grown. Cress is pretty hardy, I think, so no need for the fancy greenhouse.
Inside, I basically leave it all to Julian. It’s putting soil and seeds in a pot, not exactly a great teamwork exercise, and he doesn’t say anything. I sprinkle a bit of water on after.
On the way out, we’re subjected to more than a few looks. I smile for our audience.
“We shall finish here for today,” Mr Churt says, following out behind me and Julian. “Next week, weather permitting, we will start to look at how to care for plants while making use of earth magic.”
After that, he lists off the times the greenhouse is “open” during the week and on weekends, reiterating his expectation that we make sure our cress is kept suitably watered. Then he finally dismisses us.
I’m not in a rush to leave, some congestion as the fairly broad patio narrows to a path. Julian isn’t that eager to go either, his gaze settling on some of the plants inside the greenhouse.
Having read Snowdrop and the Seven Princes, it really is like I’m cheating. If I was anyone else, I’d wonder if he likes plants, not knowing why he does. But I do know. I can vividly remember the few conversations “he” had with Eleanor. He’s close with his mother, and she did flower pressing as a young girl, books full of pretty flowers that she would show him, sharing the memories of her youth. And he was teased for it at his last school: a short boy, cute at an age where boys don’t like being called cute, and he liked flowers.
I don’t know how true what the Julian in the book said is compared to the Julian with me now, but I think it’s mostly the same. A story has to be more extreme to be interesting, unlike real life, so the truth is probably softer than what I read. Still, I probably also liked him because we went through similar challenges.
“Have you started looking for a snowdrop yet?” I ask him.
“Why would I?”
I hum to myself, wondering what a good reward would be. “Ah, I can sew your sweetheart’s initials onto a handkerchief,” I say, pleased with myself for thinking of it. “Isn’t that a most refined gift for a lady?”
“I don’t have a sweetheart,” he says.
“But you must have someone you like, do you not? In your class, or maybe a friend’s sister from when you visited….” I didn’t think that through. Clearing my throat, I continue. “Or a friend of your sister?”
Muttering more to himself than me, he says, “I have someone I’d like to go away.”
You know, didn’t I like him because he was a warm and gentle sort of character in the book? I mean, he quickly forgave Eleanor for their unfortunate first meeting, so why is he still having a go at me?
Though, I don’t hate talking like this with someone.
“Will you truly not help me?”
I hadn’t thought about it at the time, but shouldn’t it be really hard for him to turn down someone who wants to get her mother a beloved flower? Like, this is ticking all his boxes, right? Don’t tell me I’ve left that bad of an impression on him.
“As I said, there is simply no reason for me to go out of my way for a stranger,” he says.
Ah, I knew it. Smiling to myself, I happily say, “My birthday is November third.”
“Why are you telling me that?”
“Since this is the first time, I shall only tell you one thing. Next time, it will be two things, and then three things. Of course, when I am no longer a stranger to you, I’ll stop.”
He lowers his head and takes in a deep breath, rubbing his face. “You act like my sister does. No, you’re worse than her. If I had an older sister, is this what it would be like?”
“As someone with an older sister, I assure you this is nothing.”
Most of the others have gone by now, patio empty as the last of them walk down the path. I reach into my pocket, choosing a handkerchief at random to offer to him.
He glances, then looks away, sniffling; it’s not just flowers that give off pollen. At least for now it’s not too bad, being nearly winter and all. In the book, Eleanor only started really spending time with him in spring, so sneezes were common. However, it’ll be a lot worse than just sneezing, won’t it? Puffy eyes, runny nose—hardly a romantic image. Well, maybe he gets over the worst of it, or he actually has a bit of a cold at the moment.
The path clear, I head off first. I’m not sure if I’ve made him think better of me, but I guess I’ve at least made him think of me? That’s a start, right?
Whatever. Let’s just take each day as it comes.
Advertisement
Adventures of an Old Dreamer
There once was a boy that lived in a village with no name in a remote corner of a province in a grand empire. Every villager had their place, and his was a shepherd's. Despite that, or perhaps because of it, the boy was an avid dreamer, yearning for adventure between each book he read. Decades go by in the blink of an eye and the young boy grows into an old man, yet remains a shepherd, watching his flock live and die in an endless cycle of life. Yet, the old man dreams on about adventure, never too old to indulge in his delusions. One fateful night, however, his endless prayer gets answered. Two immortals fall from the sky, and from their corpses, the old man acquires the means to strength in order to adventure. What does the world have in store for Lao Chen. --- A Xianxia with a little twist. Rated gore and traumatising, potentially triggering. Enjoy!
8 2157780, or: Children of a White Rider
As one war ends, another begins. The year Fastidious: 7780 marks deteriorating relations between the Siralians, devout sailors of the Ordos Canticula, and the Ardalians, matchless fire mages ruling neverending farmlands. In the shadows, Ardalian rebels successfully unlock an ancient magical gate. Their desire? A soldier, immutable, unstoppable, and enslaved. Eli Stuart and his fiancee Patricia Secord find themselves thrown into a strange world. Trapped in a land of hostile magic and alien politics, the two of them must use their newfound powers to make alliances, stop their enemies, and ultimately reunite. However, something goes wrong. In this chaos, as the world begins to unravel in foul ways, something else stirs. Something else found its way through. Author's Note: I will update this story as often as I can. I am quite busy and write this during breaks at work. This is one of those goon-squad stories with a million characters, so "dizzying" might be a good way to describe the energy. Much of what builds up to the first arc happens in the first ten chapters, which are quite long. For that reason, if you have difficulty getting through the story, I understand, though things don't really start happening until Chapter 8-10.
8 315Hanging out with the Mutants
In a certain universe, there are humans who have developed superpowers called 'mutants'. A guy who can read minds; a guy who can bend metals with a thought; a guy with metal claws coming out of his hands; a woman who can control things with her mind; and so much more. There is one guy, who neither have superpowers or any mutations, but is hanging out with them. What they did not know is that he has something much stronger. This is his adventure.
8 121Tome of the Soul
SPOILER WARNING: This is Book #3 of a series. If you haven't read the first two, you will be very lost. You can read both completely free with the links below.Book 1Book 2 Samuel Bragg has won himself a noble title, earned prestige as a mage, and made many powerful friends. But what happens when the very country he's sworn allegiance to comes under attack by a foreign power? With an army on the march and distant figures plotting his demise, can Samuel keep up with the pace of the world around him? Months after the death of his father, Tobito Tokugawa struggles to fill the empty role in Issho-Ni. Will he be able to assume his father's position and lead the group of elite fighters to greatness? With doubt cast at him from all angles, Tobi will need the help of his oldest friends to further establish the influence of his divine father and continue to protect the innocents of the world. Deep in a brothel of Milagre, Bora Bora Ciayol, Champion of Bahamut, is called to war. He rallies the support of his fellow followers, ready to fight on behalf of his Patron. This is their final push to eliminate the Tyrant Queen Tiamat, and put an official end to Bahamut's greatest risk. Leading a small army all his own, Bora Bora begins the path to becoming a legend. Read Tome of the Soul to learn what happens when the greatest legends in a nation rise to defend their land. A thrilling tale of war, magic, and devotion awaits you. Will you answer the call to reaffirm the record shared here? The Mother awaits the birth of her most legendary heroes. Chapters are uploaded at 10:00 EDT on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. This story is also available on ScribbleHub
8 152Of Monsters & Nothing
A fictional journal placed in a world where monsters exist.
8 171XXXTENTACION SMUTS♥️
Do you like xxxtentacion?this ones for you horny little fuckers let me know what settings I should have and if I should do on on somone else
8 161