"Hopeful Ignobility"

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Lauren holds her husband close with kisses. A hand on the back of his neck, and then another hand slipped up behind his shirt.

She notices right away a difference. Last night she did this with a projection he created. Tonight she feels scars and old welts on his back. She feels him shiver right away.

He confesses after she asks why these were not in the projection.

His mother beat him and those marks are something he hoped to forget. His father told him the beatings were his mother's anger. Anger that a woman was not born, instead of the socially useless son. Angry at her own body for creating a useless heir. Angry at his father for providing the wrong genetic material.

She kisses him for while longer, but a bad storm moves in quickly. Sheets of rain and heavy gusts of wind.

The columns of the portico shake and shift.

His expression is compelling. Lauren asks if she needs to authorize him to use the 'power' he has.

When she tells him to do what he can, something that looks like his project power moves up to roof of the portico and the columns are straightened. He holds it still until the storm clears.

They move back into the center, and the projection power sweeps away water off the floor.

Lauren asks to have his lap again for the night. She settles in and wonders before sleeping.

"What a day. This man is powerful. I am the least of the people here and completely ignorant of what is supposed to happen. I am quite ignoble for head of the household."

Her husband watches quietly. Twice today death came nearby. I have my wish of this morning. Another night to marvel over my wife. It is a shame, that I am bound so terribly. There is a matter I wanted to remind her about. I will certainly not wake her for it now.

The archivist had gone behind some large rocks when they requested privacy. He got terribly soaked by the heavy rains. He was fore thinking enough stow his glasses. After the rain, he wiped the archivist case.

The case is designed to be dunked in water, but the surface is lacquer and polish. It will get spots if it has rain drops on it.

He feels he must stay here.

He should return the case but that would leave him away from the noble woman. If she died while he was away, that would be a double failure.

If he could return the case, he would also need to return the knives.

He is sad, cold and wet.

He makes a five level action matrix. Risks to the noble woman. His counter measures. Possible reactions. His counter-counter moves. Classification of options.

He might no longer be an archivist. He might be weak. He might have bad vision, but he has his training. Clear thinking and planning.

The odds do not look very good for him. Things have left him very ignobly situated.

The woman is very different. Caring and relatable. Not like most women in authority.

He lets himself color in the all the unknowns with hope. Hope that bad things will pass over because that woman is so different.

He can do that now. He is not a bond servant archivist to the deity anymore. I can feel hope and not rely only on planning.


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