Court of Snakes: This Desert Cage

Illusion - The Palace | January of the First Year

"All right, Lady Parisa, tell me again what the definition of the word economics is?"

Parisa twirled Theophilia across her desk. In her mind's eye, Theophilia glided across the glistening marble floor of a grand palace from long, long ago, showered in the glittering, golden light from thousands of crystal chandeliers. In her daydream, a bird tapped at the glass window of the ballroom... and then Master Esmond rapped his ruler on her desk. The explosion of sound shot around the quiet study and Parisa nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Lady Parisa?" her teacher demanded again.

"Excuse me?" Parisa peered up at him as though she had not been listening.

Master Esmond growled in frustration, a soft vexation that was lessened by concern. "Can't you pay attention just once?" he asked. "I am trying to give a lesson in economics."

"But I don't want to study economics."

"Your father will be frenetic if you don't pass your examinations this week. He's perplexed and worried that you don't show any talent in academics. He just wants to see you succeed."

"No talent in academics? So, that makes me... what? Worthless?"

Parisa had heard the line before. Her father believed that a woman's place was inside, surrounded by books, away from everyone and everything. Women were good for spouting off random facts about Segeno history and providing entertainment at parties, nothing more. Too dull, and you were useless for those two things. Too smart, and you were a heretic. If Parisa was a failure in academics, she was effectively worthless. He never said it directly, but the logic followed.

"I didn't say that. He—"

"If he presumes that, maybe he should tell me himself."

"You know he doesn't want to offend you. He cares about you."

"Does he?"

"I believe he does."

"If I fail all my exams, really be the worst, he can stuff me somewhere and forget about me. That way I can be out of his hair."

"I wouldn't stand for it, dear," Master Esmond replied. "I want you to succeed."

"And I want to have a little fun again."

"You will," he affirmed. "We just need to keep your mind from wandering off."

"That's the only fun I have all day."

Master Esmond exhaled thoughtfully and kneeled next to Parisa's desk. "Where did your imagination take you today?"

Parisa gazed out the window. The cloudless sky hovered blue and flawless all the way to the mountains that broke the horizon many, many miles away. "I imagined that Theophilia was a part of a grand circus," she said, "and that she performed an act in which she danced in a huge ballroom with a handsome harlequin."

Master Esmond straightened his stiff uniform and sighed with a lack of patience, "You are to be the next heir to the Embassy throne. You must be knowledgeable and well rounded, not partaking in the circus... at least, not at the moment. There will be time for that. I promise. Now, can you define economics for me?"

Parisa replied, "Economics is the scientific study of the distribution and production of goods."

"Good. So, you have been paying attention."

Master Esmond pulled up a chair and sat next to Parisa at the desk. Parisa watched his face as he looked over his notes. There were so many things she loved about Master Esmond, like the way he was far too tall, his long legs making him clumsy and too fast when walking, or the way his dark hair fell out of the pins that held it in place behind his head. Parisa most of all loved his eyes, dark and contemplative. The sun caught in his hair at that moment, glimmering off gray strands that were new and only becoming more numerous. His face was not hardened by the stress of nobility like the leaders of the other districts, and his expressions were always soft and caring. She loved seeing his face more than she liked looking at her own father.

"If you read a chapter of your lessons, I'll let you go outside with Theophilia and we can take our World History lessons under the trees in the greenhouse today," he offered.

Parisa's eyes lit up, she ripped her Economics book from her bag, and began devouring the words.

"We can only go outside," Master Esmond added as he wandered to the front of the classroom, "if you pass the quiz, so read carefully. Don't rush through it."

"But—"

"Read."