Algernon Black

(Chapter 71) Nothing Interesting Yet to Recall

"Let's go, Algernon." She said, taking the lead and leaving Lucy to follow behind. With Algernon drinking, he was less inclined to be cold to certain people, and Pecilia was too vigilant to let that favoritism be noticed.

"Gentlemen." Pecilia greeted, beaming at Algernon's side.

"Lady Row." Said one of the noblemen. "It's a pleasure to see you here."

"I know it is, Councilman Peak," Pecilia chirped, with a practiced smile that perfectly hid her true opinions.

"And you as well Mr. Black." The man added. "It's an honor to finally meet you."

Algernon gave the man a polite nod as his only reply.

"As you all know Algernon is one of the greatest prodigies to walk the halls of Attwood in a thousand years." Acclaimed the headmistress proudly. "He rivals the powers and intelligence of the last good king if I dare say so."

The other nobles nodded along.

I wouldn't say so. 

Lucy glanced around to see who had just spoken but saw no one even looking at her besides the stone eyes of a statue of the last good king. She thought she must have imagined the voice, slightly shaking her head as if to clear her mind.

"This country expects great things from you, Mr. Black."

"We're all hoping to see you live up to your name."

"And I have no doubt you will, just like your father."

"Right," Algernon said with his eyes averted to the ground. He couldn't differentiate their voices as they all overlapped into the same jarring sound, one he was tired of listening to.

Lucy compared the nobles' treatment of Algernon to herself. His black suit that she at first thought resembled a general's garb now seemed to look more like something a king would wear. Algernon garnered instant respect from everyone just for his name and Lucy couldn't help but envy it. She supposed if she wanted the same she would have to be reborn into one of the noblest families of the entire country. Maybe in my next life, she thought.

Why not this one?

Lucy's neck snapped to the side looking for the voice that had suddenly become resoundingly clear as the nobles noticed the oddly distasteful behavior.

"Lucy." The headmistress scolded. "What are you looking at?"

"I thought I heard someone," Lucy said, suddenly shy as the critical stares returned to her. "My mistake." 

"The commons are so endearing." Drawled one of the noblewomen. "you're all just so.... unique."

"Yes, unique." Said one of the men. "But one should never forget their standing." Pecilia recognized the man from her father's gossip. He was Councilwoman Grewshard's husband and a resounding advocate for segregation of the classes. "If we are too progressive with allowing the common class entrance, Attwood would lose the prestige and greatness everyone associates us with. And that would destroy our reputation in the eyes of the other nations." The rumor was he didn't come from nobility at all, as he so claimed, but was adopted by a noblewoman who faked a pregnancy and bought an infant off a poor farm woman.

"Of course." Affirmed his wife. Although she felt slightly bad for Lucy who was shrinking with every second the conversation continued. "But there is nothing wrong with charity work."

"You know I'm the first one to advocate for the less fortunate, but we have to recall they are in those positions more often than not because they are not of high enough caliber or ambition to get themselves out of it." Preached Councilman Ozwall. Pecilia knew him as well. He was often spotted frequenting brothels in the most impoverished areas, apparently, with a preference for the feeble young-looking girls.