Pinnacle (ONGOING)

Chapter Sixteen

     The next day, I found myself back at the academy for another round of delicious chaos. MY wedding was approaching fast, and so I spent a lot of my time just staring at buildings and people watching so I could soak it all in and remember it for years to come. I was walking towards The Somerset House, and after my research, regarded the "Exhibition Room" as it is called. It sat at the top floor of the building, and I stared up at it in dumb wonder as the crowd buzzed around me. Some sent me a few puzzled looks, but I didn't care how I looked. All I could do was bask in the thought of my own work being displayed in there some day.

     'Am I good enough?' I asked myself as I continued on down the path. Something however gave me pause, and I turned to look at the statue of Joshua Reynolds again. Rising up in front of me, large and intimidating.

     "Oof" I said as someone checked my side. I turned to reprimand them, but noticed they were an elder. It was a man with a proud gate for one so much older; 65, give or take. He sported a brown wig, and his face was a sallow complexion as his sunken features accentuated the strange-ness of his appearance. He was dressed smartly and up to date with current fashion but clearly in mourning as he was garbed in black. The only exception to this color palette was the ruby red ring which appeared at his side with every swing of his cane. It was a ring just like papa's, I had seen other men wear the insignia. I was not sure what the "M" stood for, but I wondered if I wouldn't eventually find out.

     "Do not worry, he does that to everyone." A small voice assured me from behind.

     "Oh, hello again." I brightened seeing the fellow that had directed me to the Somerset House on my first day of class. "Mr..."

     "Turner." He supplied quietly. He was nearly exactly my height and had very fox-like features; with his red eyebrows drawn tautly diagonal. His long nose accentuated the snout-like quality of his face.

     Mathematically, it should have been a strange looking face, but his eyes were big and green, and regarded you with a softness that put one at ease. I would even go so far as to call him handsome.

     "Is he intentionally rude?" I frowned, referring to the man from before.

     "Oh no," He assured. "I am afraid Mr. Soane is as blind as a bat and refuses to wear spectacles out of fear of destroying his youthful façade." The last line was laced thickly with sarcasm.

     "I can say all of this because he is indeed a friend of mine."

     "A good sign of kinship indeed, that one can freely tarnish their friend's character to strangers." I grinned. He nodded, soberly.

     "And where might I direct you today young man?"

     "Perspective, sir." I replied. "I am not looking forward to it, it sounds like quite a dull subject, but It is required."

     Upon hearing this, the man seemed to withdraw and grow quieter than he already was. Though a London native by his thick accent, he seemed quite private and timid despite the eccentricities of his personality. Not the typical local.

     "That will be the fourth door down from the Life Class." He smiled a small smile and tipped his beaver cap to me.

     "Good morning."

     "Good morning." I returned; brow creased in worry at the possibility of severing such a short-lived friendship. I mulled over what I might have done wrong all the way to class, trying to ignore the fumes from the river Thames. As the days got hotter, the body of water seemed to do nothing but grow more putrescent.

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     Later, I had been walking to class when I heard voices, muffled and prickly winding down the corridor.