Heroist
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If the past few weeks had been filled with nothing but warm and joyful news, then everything suddenly plunged into an abyss of utter darkness.
First, there was that idiotic business with the statuette, which was now causing Moriner a great deal of trouble. No matter how hard he tried to put it out of his mind, "accidental" misfortunes kept bringing him back to that ill-fated purchase. He had never been to a medical center in his life, but now, in addition to a concussion, he had also managed to sprain his leg after tripping on the stairs and dislocate his shoulder after a chance encounter with some burly upperclassman, not to mention the minor annoyances that constantly plagued him.
The news of the new Empress's first "deeds" only further saddened the unfortunate student – overnight, he lost the safe place to study, which would now undoubtedly be used for its intended purpose, and his favorite teacher and kind, understanding mentor was dismissed by the new government.
The icing on the cake was the long-awaited reply from his father. Carefully, fearing to damage the contents, Moriner opened the envelope and eagerly devoured the words. But almost immediately, he noticed the absence of his father's neat, precise handwriting – instead, illiterate scribbles were penned by his maid, Mityonna.
His father had hired old Mityonna shortly after the death of his eldest son, the departure of his wife, and his own breakdown – and since then, she had taken care of not only the partially paralyzed civil servant but also his growing children. Moriner, being the youngest of them, spent more time with her than with anyone else and became even more attached to her than to his own mother.
The letter made it clear that old Sinon Leveristos was not only unable to write on his own but could not even dictate his thoughts to the maid. Mityonna diplomatically mentioned that everything was fine at home and that his father was glad to hear about his son's successes and hoped that he would continue to work hard.
But what about his job now? What was his condition? Should Moriner ask to be allowed to go home for a week? But who would he ask, since their mentor had been dismissed just the other day? How could he lift the curse of the statuette? Should he ask at that camellia shop? Finally, what future now awaited their country? Would he have to go to a real war? All these, and many other questions, continued to torment Moriner's troubled mind. He sat at his desk, his hands folded on the table, his face buried in them, expecting only the worst from life.
First, there was that idiotic business with the statuette, which was now causing Moriner a great deal of trouble. No matter how hard he tried to put it out of his mind, "accidental" misfortunes kept bringing him back to that ill-fated purchase. He had never been to a medical center in his life, but now, in addition to a concussion, he had also managed to sprain his leg after tripping on the stairs and dislocate his shoulder after a chance encounter with some burly upperclassman, not to mention the minor annoyances that constantly plagued him.
The news of the new Empress's first "deeds" only further saddened the unfortunate student – overnight, he lost the safe place to study, which would now undoubtedly be used for its intended purpose, and his favorite teacher and kind, understanding mentor was dismissed by the new government.
The icing on the cake was the long-awaited reply from his father. Carefully, fearing to damage the contents, Moriner opened the envelope and eagerly devoured the words. But almost immediately, he noticed the absence of his father's neat, precise handwriting – instead, illiterate scribbles were penned by his maid, Mityonna.
His father had hired old Mityonna shortly after the death of his eldest son, the departure of his wife, and his own breakdown – and since then, she had taken care of not only the partially paralyzed civil servant but also his growing children. Moriner, being the youngest of them, spent more time with her than with anyone else and became even more attached to her than to his own mother.
The letter made it clear that old Sinon Leveristos was not only unable to write on his own but could not even dictate his thoughts to the maid. Mityonna diplomatically mentioned that everything was fine at home and that his father was glad to hear about his son's successes and hoped that he would continue to work hard.
But what about his job now? What was his condition? Should Moriner ask to be allowed to go home for a week? But who would he ask, since their mentor had been dismissed just the other day? How could he lift the curse of the statuette? Should he ask at that camellia shop? Finally, what future now awaited their country? Would he have to go to a real war? All these, and many other questions, continued to torment Moriner's troubled mind. He sat at his desk, his hands folded on the table, his face buried in them, expecting only the worst from life.
Whatever