A Good Talk
(Academy Phase)
Dyneira = Byleth
I brace myself for Thursday — it is the day of the student-instructor conferences. I was unlucky enough to draw the Golden Deer card during the faculty meeting on Monday, so I know that the day is going to be exhausting. Both Jeritza and Manuela found this highly amusing, but Hanneman, ever to his credit, strove to help me through it — I suspect it was because I donated several hair samples for his research on my Crest three days ago.
"They won't take long, if you're methodical," he tells me at breakfast early Thursday morning. "Do not mince words — they may be your students, but you do not need to pity or coddle them if they are not doing well. Be frank, offer straightforward advice, and see what they do with it."
I fear this will not be enough to help the Golden Deer, though — compared to the the Blue Lions and Black Eagles, their House average is laughably mediocre, and, having pondered over the gradebook extensively, I know why: a few bad apples have soiled the bunch, those being Hilda and Raphael. With one, it is a matter of effort, and the other a matter of basic intelligence, and it's to the point that not even the superb marks of Lysithea and Ignatz can keep the House's average afloat.
And then there is Claude...
I have an idea, though, and I put it into action as the conferences begin. I start with my candidates, Lysithea and Ignatz, who readily accept my proposition, and then move on quickly to the flight risks. Raphael agrees easily enough, looking sullen and a little ashamed, but Hilda is simply appalled.
"Mandatory recitation?" she exclaims when I break the sorry news to her. "Professor, you can't be serious! I spend enough time in classrooms during the day — I can't abide looking at that blackboard anymore after the bell."
"And I can't abide your poor marks sullying my gradebook," I say flatly. "Lysithea has agreed to stay behind extra hours to work with your on both your tactics and your arithmetic, and you will meet her here every day after lessons end, on time, until your grades improve."
She is petulant — her lip juts out. "Or?"
Or? "Or I'll know the reason why."
"And then what? You'll yell at me?" She smirks, as if she's caught me in a trap. I don't blink.
"Or I'll submit a recommendation for your withdrawal from the Academy to Seteth," I say.
That gives her pause, and the irony is so strong that I almost scowl. So she wants to stay at the Officer's Academy, but she doesn't want to work for it? Maybe that's not it — maybe it's the idea of Seteth bearing down on her that makes her nervous. That would be enough to make me pause and reconsider too.
"Can't I do something else?" Hilda begs. "An extra-credit assignment or something? A mandatory recitation is just so bothersome. I have so many things to do after classes—"
I wait for her to elaborate, but she doesn't.
"—and you're not only dragging me, but Lysithea down too. Isn't that rather inconsiderate, Professor?"
"Extra credit won't save you," I say. "And neither will begging. Recitation, Hilda, every day, after the bell. Have I made myself clear?"
She leaves in an angry huff, but even when she's gone, I'm tense. She's hard to get a read on sometimes — I've exerted the hard arm of my authority, but will that be enough to get her to obey my orders? Time will tell. Goddess help her if she doesn't do as she's told — I don't easily get annoyed, but Hilda spitefully excusing herself from my planned intervention just might be enough to make me angry.
