It hadn’t taken much persuasion for Jess to secure a meeting with the headmaster at one of the illustrious schools of the city when speaking with Lady Belweather. Especially not after her son was assured a place in Jess’s classroom.

Steelvale Academy was the oldest school in the city and unsurprisingly, held the most renown in the area. The reception that Jess received was friendlier than she had expected, but it was difficult to tell whether that was due to being biased by her feelings of inadequacy in the shadow of such a scholarly monolith or whether academia was less rigidly pretentious in this world.

An aide, of some sort, met her at the gate and accompanied her within the premises two figures stood waiting. The first was the stoic headmaster. The black robes he wore were without embroidery and so dark in an otherworldly sense that he seemed to be a tall shadow topped with a face. His perfectly coiffed grey hair and neatly trimmed beard reminded Jess of the headmaster she had as a girl. His calm and confident air gave nothing away, unlike the boy beside him who was practically effervescent.

“Good morning, Miss Harper,” he said as she approached. “So glad that you could make it.”

“Good morning,” Jess replied. “I’m excited to be here.”

“Lady Belweather had excellent things to say about you,” the headmaster said. “Unfortunately, I will not be able to accompany you on the site tour myself. You’ll be in good hands. Thomas here is one of our star pupils.” The boy beside him stepped forward, beaming. His crisp uniform was a dark blue woollen shirt over black trousers. Shiny golden buttons glinted at his neck above black leather laces.

“Pleased to meet you, Thomas,” Jess said. The lad was probably around eleven years old by her guess. Just a duckling.

With a few polite farewells, Jess and Thomas began their exploration before the official meeting would begin. Jess preferred it this way. You can’t get the full flavour of a place just by looking at the menu. You need to actually experience it and as Jess was given a guided tour around the prestigious building, she couldn’t help feeling awed.

The main building stood as tall and proud as a cathedral with towering windows and carved pillars that radiated pomp. A feeling that was magnified by the vast number of paintings in great, gilded frames that lorded over anyone in the corridors. They seemed to be insulted by her presence. Imagine immortalising yourself as a grumpy old goat.

As the tour continued, it felt more obvious why the late school masters that decorated the halls wore stern expressions. Most of the living school masters also did. For that matter, a number of the students looked pretty unimpressed as well. If she had to pick a colour to symbolise the mood, it’d have to be grey.

Teachers stood at the front of the class and droned endless information from a singular tome. Jess was thankful that she had to sit through mere snippets at a time. She’d have been raked over the coals if she’d taught her own lessons in the same way. Different teaching methods come and go each year, replaced by the hippest and trendiest new ideas and concepts, some better than others. Overall, it was generally agreed that boring your students into an early grave was universally rejected as good practice. I bet these guys have never even heard of CPD.

Between classrooms, Jess hesitated for a moment. “Thomas. Would it be alright if I asked you a couple of questions?”

“Of course, ma’am!” Thomas replied.

“Do you like being a student at this school?”

“It’s a very good school, ma’am,” Thomas said without hesitation.

“I’m sure it is,” said Jess. “But do you enjoy it here?”

“The schoolmasters work very hard to teach us everything they can, ma’am,” he said, squirming under her gaze.

Jess smiled. “Of course,” she said, before changing tactics. “What are your favourite lessons?”

“All of the lessons are useful ma’am,” Thomas replied.

Clever lad, Jess thought. “You must have a lesson you look forward to most though. Everyone does.” She leaned in as though sharing a secret. “My favourite was always art. I hated history though. Too many dates to remember.”

The boy nervously glanced down the corridor. Got you, Jess thought triumphantly.

“I like Botany,” he whispered. “But don’t tell the schoolmasters. They don’t agree with it. Geography is interesting too. Is it true that you’re from a land far away?”

“Very far away,” Jess confirmed. “Maybe not even on any of the school maps.”

The boy’s expression was a mixture of childlike awe and teenage rebellion that screamed ‘that’s the most amazing thing I’ve heard all year… but I still don’t want to believe you’.

They continued the tour, passing through a large greenhouse full of girls who were busily pruning and tending to plants before peeking into a laboratory, of some sort, that had only male students. Cauldrons bubbled as the boys crowded around high desks stirring liquids in glass beakers. Afterwards, Jess was led to a hallway where she could hear excited student voices.

“What lesson is that?” Jess asked.

“It sounds like Professor Cassis, ma’am,” Thomas replied dutifully. Jess didn’t miss the note of concern in his voice. “He teaches geography. Sometimes a bit of history too.”

“Would it be alright if we had a little peek at Professor Cassis’s lesson?” Jess asked.

A conflicted expression danced across his face before he nodded, somewhat reluctantly. Jess considered it an odd reaction after he had explained that he enjoyed geography lessons.

Together, they walked to where the large double doors stood open. The room within was bright and airy, with colourful banners adorning the walls in many colours. Jess hadn’t been lying when she said she disliked history. The pictures on them suggested they had specific meanings, but they remained unknown to her; she couldn’t tell whether she was looking at war banners, historical flags or something else entirely. The activity within the room was much more familiar and more heartening to see as well. Professor Cassis, unlike many of his peers, appeared to be younger and much more animated. The fact that he was waving a rapier wildly in front of a large map hung from the chalkboard was unexpected, but the students seemed to be enthralled by the spectacle. With each question that was called out, flurries of excited hands would be thrown in the air and answers called out with gusto.

This tiny silver lining was enough for Jess. For now.

“Alright then, Thomas,” Jess said, “I think I’ve seen enough here.”

The boy nodded his acceptance, but Jess caught the glimmer of guilt that flashed across his face. As he turned to lead the way once more, she spoke up again.

“You like Professor Cassis, don’t you?” asked Jess.

The boy looked back with a poorly masked doleful look and nodded.

“What do the other professors think about him?” she asked.

“Professor Cassis is highly respected in his field and an asset to the school,” Thomas replied, albeit glumly.

“Is that what the other professors say?”

The boy frowned and he began to chew on his bottom lip.

To console him, Jess said, “Well I like him.” Then, whilst strategically ignoring the suspicious look on his face, she added, “It’s about time we saw a teacher in this place that understands that learning and fun aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“Is that a good thing, Miss?” Thomas asked hesitantly.

“That is an excellent thing,” Jess assured him. For more reasons than you know, she added mentally.

Before seeing the young Professor, she was beginning to seriously question whether her teaching methods would be accepted. Sure, she wasn’t planning anything ground-breaking, but the idea of reeling off chapters for students to memorise by rote just seemed ghastly - cruel and unusual punishment for students so young. What’s the point in teaching a subject if you make it so dull that the poor kids are put off for life?

Perhaps Professor Cassis might be amenable to sharing good practice at a later date. He might even, with a bit of encouragement, be a partner in crime to vent to about the struggles of school life. Time would tell. Even if not, she mentally stored his name as a useful expert to learn more about the world that she was in. A solid foundation of history and geography from an expert could only be helpful in her quest for answers and a route home.

Jess drew herself up and tucked her increasingly unruly dark hair behind her ears. She briefly lamented the fact that she would be unable to visit her preferred hairdresser. Another errand that would need to be organised quickly. Long hair was an unacceptable change. Too much fussing and upkeep, especially without modern conveniences.

“Right then. Now I’m thoroughly impressed by some of the teaching, let’s go speak with the headmaster.”