famously unfamous | jaron artolius eckbert iii

Nine

I woke up in my bed, robe hanging on a bedpost. Cleo was pulling out my clothes for the day. I sat up, my back popping loudly in the process. I whined.

"This is why you don't fall asleep on the floor, miss," she scolded.

I groaned in response, making her smile.

"Get up. You need to get dressed."

I climbed out of bed, stretching my back carefully.

She helped me change into a green dress that went down about to my knees. It was also a lace up front, and had one underskirt. It was loose and flow-y, allowing a lot of movement. My shoes were the same as yesterday's: black ballet flats.

"You're spending the morning with Sage and Roden, in the beginners class."

I fought against rolling my eyes. "I can read," I protested. "I read a lot of things for Mrs. Turbeldy."

"Master Conner still wants you in there," Cleo said with a pointed look.

I grumbled under my breath as there was a knock at the door. Cleo opened it a crack, grabbed something, then closed the door again.

It was breakfast. It was two hard boiled eggs, a small sausage link, and milk. I ate it all.

I brushed off my hands on the napkin and hurried out of the room, led by Cleo. We intersected with Mott and the boys as we neared the room.

Their tutor was a man who instructed the boys to call him Master Graves, though he assured me that I could call him by any name since I was the long lost daughter of Conner. I found his name appropriate since he looked more like a grave-digger than a teacher. He was tall and thin as a shovel with pale skin and limp black hair that he combed in a way to make it appear as though he had more hair than he really did. Sage immediately decided to dislike him, as did I. Roden, however, seemed to be keeping an open mind about whether he was in fact a member of the walking dead. At least, when Sage whispered this possibility to Roden, he smothered a grin and quickly told him to hush.

Master Graves directed Roden and Sage to sit in chairs that were clearly intended for small children and faced a chalkboard. He began to write the alphabet, and then said to Sage, "I told you to sit down and we'll get started."

Roden looked up. He was already seated with his knees halfway up his chest. I snickered in my throne-like chair beside them.

Sage folded his arms resolutely. "I'm not sitting in a chair meant for a five-year-old. Get me a real chair."

Master Graves arched his head so that he could better look down on him. "You are Sage, obviously. I was warned about you. Young man, do not mistake me for one of Conner's servants. I am a gentleman and a scholar, and I will have your respect. You will sit in the chair I have available."

Since he was evidently still around to keep Sage from running away, he called for Mott to come in. When the man ducked his head in the room, Sage said, "Master Graves thinks he's not one of Conner's servants. But you are. I need a chair."

"You have one," he said, nodding to the one beside Roden.

"It's too small. I can't learn that way."

"Too bad. Sit down."

"Okay, but when Roden and I don't learn our letters, you can explain to Conner why."

Mott sighed and left the room. He returned several minutes later with a larger chair in each hand. Master Graves was incensed and said, as punishment for his disruption, Sage would have to write his letters an extra ten times that day.