Journey of a Girl

A Proper Education: Chapter Six

Why couldn't I have been chosen?

Credence pondered the question as she dressed the next morning. Adam must have done something very good indeed to have earned such a reward from the Headmaster. Adam told her that he was the Headmaster's favorite. He followed the rules and never caused trouble, so it made perfect sense that he would be shown special favor.

She kept an eye on Adam, studying him for any qualities that might help her endear herself to the Headmaster. There was a slightly irksome suspicion that so much medicine might make the boy sick, but Adam appeared his normal self, directing the other students as always and chatting with his peers at breakfast.

As she walked to class, Credence weighed the risk of asking Adam what he had done to earn the previous night's reward so that she might repeat it. Instead, she vowed to be the best student in her class, so the Headmaster would recognize that she was worthy of being a favorite. Whatever undertaking the Headmaster set them to, Credence promised herself to succeed first.

***

The day's lesson was different.

There were no tasks to complete, no balancing books or playing with wooden teacups.

The Headmaster entered the room in shocking attire, sans the long, shapeless robe that covered everything but his hands and head. In its place were dark trousers and an elegant fitted shirt, which, unlike the usual frock that did nothing to enhance his figure, gave a clear outline of muscled arms beneath its sleeves, and a defined chest with a small view of skin from the window of its unbuttoned collar.

His appearance caused an immediate, though quiet, disruption in the class, particularly among the female students, who appeared simultaneously pleased and agitated. They would never know it, but their minds formed a collective word:

Handsome.

It was a welcomed sight.

If the Headmaster knew the commotion he caused, he didn't show it. When he rolled his sleeves and exposed his bare arms one of the female students softly gasped, but the Headmaster did not acknowledge it. He sat on the edge of his desk and crossed his arms, creating the slightest strain in the fabric of his shirt.

Credence's throat, one of many, grew dry, and her attention was fully his.

"Our lesson today may sound strange," the Headmaster began, "for the topic will be you." He pointed to the girl who had won the flower making potion. "Stand up, please."

The girl stood slowly, a deep blush covering her cheeks and nose as she struggled to look the Headmaster in the eyes.

"What is your favorite color?"

"Pink, Headmaster."

"We might have guessed from the beautiful decorations you graced us with. Thank you for that bit of brightness"

The girl's blush spread to her ears and neck.

"Go on," the Headmaster directed the class, "thank her for her lovely work."

"Thank you," the class echoed back.

The poor girl looked miserable, not enjoying any of the attention directed her way. Credence thought it an odd turn, for she had languished in praise before.

"Tell us, where do you come from? Who are your parents?" The Headmaster's attention was back to his selected student. The girl mumbled and the Headmaster gave a soft tsk. "Do not be shy, speak up."

"I come from here, like everyone," the girl said meekly. "Mum tends house and my da's a baker."

"A good profession, and important. Everyone needs bread, don't they?" The girl nodded. "And do you know why they sent you to school?"