93. An Inspirational Conversation Isn’t Complete Without a Nice Breeze
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A breeze blew softly inside the garden of the prestigious Academy, the only pre-college academic institute in the country of Durova. Amidst the rustle of trees and the gently falling leaves sat one girl, staring up into the sky with her sparkling, golden eyes.

Her light brown hair danced gracefully in the wind, and she raised her hand to tuck it behind her ear. As the rose garden swayed with her, five words fell from her well-formed, perfectly rose-pink lips.

"[CENSORED] [CENSORED], he tricked me."

Ahem.

"He [CENSORED] used a decoy. A [CENSORED] decoy. The [CENSORED] [CENSORED] prince [CENSORED] used a [CENSORED]--"

Ah.

Just a moment.


A breeze blew softly inside the garden of the prestigious Academy, the only pre-college academic institute in the country of Durova. Amidst the rustle of trees and the gently falling leaves sat one girl, staring up into the sky with her sparkling, golden eyes.

Her light brown hair danced gracefully in the wind, and she raised her hand to tuck it behind her ear. As the rose garden swayed with her, she murmured melodically to herself, but quite unfortunately-- yes, very, very unfortunately-- nobody could hear what she was saying.

However, the, uh, the narrator, who does not exist, was able to glean from a few select words that the nonexistent narrator managed to hear (nonexistently, of course) that this beautiful lady was indeed in a bit of a dilemma.

"A.... decoy. The... prince... used a decoy. He.... tricked me into following the.... wrong... guy." Any other, er, words that this lady may have used were lost to the wind, as the breeze picked up into a rather stronger wind right before she began talking. Yes. That was exactly what had happened.

Ahem.

Anyways, this disgruntled young lady was Rosa Chesterfield, and she had been sneaking into the garden every Wednesday in hopes of finding the Crown Prince of Durova, Prince Alexander. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that she had been lying in wait for him, rather than trying to find him, much like a trap set up for a very specific prey. After all, she knew that there was supposed to be a garden event on a free afternoon, and the only free afternoon she had that overlapped with Prince's was on Wednesdays.

But what had happened that had Rosa Chesterfield stumped and irritated under a tree, you ask?

Well, it must first be known that the Crown Prince of Durova had a spectacular spine that detected many a danger for him, and that his spine had become especially adept at detecting signs of Rosa.

Three minutes before he had been about to go into the garden for some peace and quiet, he had gotten an amazing case of shivers down that very spine, and he had known that he must not head in there alone. Indeed, that particular shivers that not only gave him shivers but also the creepy crawlies and the goosebumps, he knew much too well: it was the Chesterfield Detection Shivers. And let him tell you, he was rarely wrong about the Chesterfield Detection Shivers.

"And so he used a decoy. Smart," the lady snorted.

Yes, the Crown Prince had immediately stuffed his hat of that day onto a random gray-haired student passing by and ordered asked him to kindly take a detour into the garden and wander about for ten minutes before heading to his next destination. And so the clueless student with the gray hair and suddenly a new hat did just that, taking in the smell of grass and nature and generally enjoying his time. He was a pretty good guy.

Now, Rosa would not have been tricked by this by far if she had been anywhere near her normal conditions. The student was too short, a little too thin, and sort of shuffled around, not at all like the Crown Prince's princely gait. But Rosa had been preoccupied with too many thoughts, and she'd aimlessly followed the aimless walker before she came to the realization three minutes in. By then, it had been too late-- Crown Prince Alexander had gotten away with it. (After all, there had been no meddling kids and a dog to stop him.)

Rosa Chesterfield reluctantly got herself up from her seat. Welp, she had to admit, it had been a pretty smart move. And now that she had lost him, there was only one thing left for her to do: go to her next class.

Ugh, she muttered, as she dragged her feet on her way out. It was etiquette class next. And she hated etiquette class.

As she went, the preoccupied heroine ignored how students were staring at her non-too-subtly. She was used to it, and no matter what face she made, their glances never really stopped, so she'd given up on discouraging them herself.

Rosa wondered briefly if she could use the Crown Prince's admittedly admirable quick-thinking. A decoy operation could definitely be useful, couldn't it be? It wasn't a bad idea. She could use the Chesterfield house, make something up to have the High Duke suspicious and lure in Snow White..?

She shook her head. "No, that won't work," she mumbled, her shoulders slumping even further. It was too risky having the High Duke questioned, and her own means of protection could fall. Besides, what if that turned into a belated event flag and He Who Must Live fell in love with her while he inspected them?? That would make everything she'd done up until now pointless! She couldn't have that, now, could she?

On her way back to etiquette class, she passed Lady Mildred and waved hi to her. She then did the Secret Lady Mildred Protection Squad Handshake (Abridged)1The Secret Lady Mildred Protection Squad Handshake (Abridged) is a shortened version of the original Handshake, which consists of two taps of the left foot and three spins, before the two Squad members touch their own elbows and do a series of slaps onto their arms, then bow. The Handshake (Abridged) version only consists of a miniature finger version of the slaps and a very quick nod to each other. with Miss Mary, so quickly that the naked eye would not be able to perceive it, and continued on. Once she passed, she sighed morosely-- what to do, what to do?

Meanwhile, in the classroom waiting for our dear stressed heroine was a bespectacled elderly woman, her hair tightly pulled up into a professional bun, wearing a tweed coat and a pencil skirt of the blandest brown shades. Yes, it was she, the etiquette teacher of the amazingly original name: Professor Beige.

She sighed morosely as well-- what to do, what to do? What to do with Miss Rosa Chesterfield?

She stared at the piece of embroidery that Miss Chesterfield had submitted for their last project, which had a lot of reds and greens in it but didn't resemble anything like anything, and sighed again, remembering the conversation that they had about it.

"Miss Chesterfield, what is this?"

"I've embroidered a forest on fire, Professor Beige. It represents society and how the world wants to be set free from its confines, but cannot do so, so it can only set fire to itself. I also went the extra step and stared at it for 600 seconds symbolically after I completed it. Red hot fire is approximately around 600 to 800 degrees Celsius, you see."

"Miss Chesterfield..!"

"Oh, the name? I named it," she dramatically paused, "The Forest Fire."

"...Miss Chesterfield, I believe the assignment was to embroider a flower, not a, a forest fire."

"But Professor Beige, the flowers are part of the forest."

Professor Beige stared at the square of embroidery in utmost despair. Goodness gracious, it didn't even look like a fire! It just looked like a five-year-old had begun sticking a needle into the square at random, not minding any knots that formed or any tangles that came to be. And as for the forest, there was barely a green on it at all!

And now the very student was walking in with a shuffle that was entirely un-lady-like, slumping down right in the middle of the classroom without a single greeting to anyone else around her. The professor huffed, readjusting her glasses. Not what a lady should be doing at all!

This would not do. As a teacher of Etiquette and Manners of 20 years, she would not condone this kind of behavior, especially not from the daughter of the High Duke! Adjusting her glasses once more, Professor Beige squared her tweed-covered shoulders and peered at Rosa. "Miss Chesterfield, a moment, if you please."

Professor Beige took them right outside the classroom and began speaking in her most stern voice. "Miss Chesterfield, I must remind you to remember who you are."

"Who I am..?" the girl murmured back, a bit dazedly.

"Yes," she said firmly. "I have held back from saying anything for the past months that you have been attending my class because I was well aware of your background, but I cannot allow this any longer."

Rosa didn't respond, either because she was only half-listening or because she was busy thinking of something else.

"Until now, you have lived as a commoner. You have acted like a commoner. I understand that it was not your choice, but it is high time, Miss Chesterfield, that you open your eyes to see who you are now. You have changed; you have to change. Whether you chose it or not, Miss Chesterfield, you are a noble now. And you must act as one."

"Look around you," the Professor continued, spreading a hand towards the students inside the classroom. "All of these people, your fellow classmates, your peers. They are all connections, friends, and one of the greatest benefits of being a noble. And you must learn how to interact with them. Be one of them, because that is the only way you will be able to utilize your resources best."

"My resources," Rosa whispered, and a breeze tousled her hair softly. It did not matter that they were currently inside a building and the windows were closed, and that nobody else felt any breezes-- the breeze existed, and it tousled her hair just so.

At the same time, Professor Beige was filled with a sudden burst of inspiration. The professor lifted her head high and folded her hands, her eyes shining brightly. "That's right. You are no longer a commoner, Miss Chesterfield. You are a noble lady, and the daughter of the High Duke. Understand what that means, and the world will be at your fingertips!"

It was a rare exclamation from the generally disciplined professor, and her words rang out in the quiet hallway, full of conviction and encouragement. When Rosa finally lifted her head, her eyes were blazing gold, a small, unflinching smile on her lips. 

The professor was momentarily taken aback, blinded by the sheer intensity of her expression. Then she smiled back, just as fiercely, and the student and professor nodded to each other, their hearts full and their blood roaring.

They turned back to the classroom, stepping in as the sun shined brightly through the windows, their heads held high.

She has understood me, Professor Beige thought, adjusting her glasses proudly, and now she will act like the noble she is destined to be.

Rosa only thought one word.

Eureka.

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