Bonus Scene #1: Miss Tabrano’s Absence
(Roric POV) (From Chapter 5)
It took less than a day of Miss Tabrano being absent for Roric to realize just how much her company had become an essential part of his days. Though she certainly wasn’t a noisy companion, his study seemed far too quiet without her pen scratching away at her translations, the flipping of the pages of the book she was translating as she cross-referenced back and forth, her occasional slight sounds of puzzlement, frustration, or satisfaction. After only one day, he missed her presence beside him at morning Lecture, missed walking with her to the Professors’ Hall to begin their workday, missed their conversations over breakfast.
Somehow, he had let her carve out a place for herself in his intentionally solitary life. And now, only one day after she showed up for work with a bad cold and he gave her what relief he could with his Healing ability and sent her back to her dormitory to recover, he was feeling the emptiness where she was supposed to be.
It served him right, he thought as he stared down at the notes for the lecture he was supposed to be preparing, unable to focus on them in the solitude and silence. There was no fault with her work; any difficulty she was experiencing in keeping up with his demands was his fault, for overworking her so shamefully. Even if he had a good reason for pushing her so hard, there was such a thing as demanding too much, and he had crossed that line. And now, because of his meddling in her personal habits, which he had no business doing – it was her business if she wanted to take regular exercise, and what sort of exercise, not his – she was ill and he was alone.
And to think she had been afraid he would dismiss her from her position if she missed a few days due to illness. What sort of unconscionable person and employer was he?
He had to do something to make it up to her, or at least try to comfort her in her present miserable circumstances. But he had no idea what.
The rest of that day and all the next, he pondered the problem. Late the second afternoon, Roric learned from one of his favorite orderlies in the Professors’ Hall, who was courting a young lady who worked as an orderly in the female assistants’ dormitory, that Miss Tabrano was beginning to recover from her cold to a slight degree, enough that she was also beginning to suffer from boredom.
A new book, that was what she needed. Something to keep her mind occupied while her body regained its health. Roric looked over the stack of books he wanted her to translate, then rejected that idea. That was work, and work was not what she needed right now. She might think he was the type of person to mercilessly drive his employees, cold and compassionless and dedicated to work to the complete exclusion of human feeling, but he wasn’t, not really. Or, at least, he didn’t want to be that sort of person. And for reasons he wasn’t sure of, it seemed very important to assure Miss Tabrano that he wasn’t.
He left his desk and walked along the bookshelves in the study area of his main room, filled with books on the history and scholarship of magic, then the sitting area, where he kept his collection of books not related to his work. He eyed the book he read at night when he was having trouble sleeping, then moved on. She needed something light and pleasant and enjoyable, to lift her spirits as she recovered from her illness.
He surveyed his collection of the most important novels, poems, and plays of the last forty years. Many of them he had read, and many of those were quite good, but they still didn’t seem right. He supposed his tastes even in recreational reading were dry and ponderous, not the sort of thing a young lady recovering from an illness would like.
He actually had no idea what sort of books she liked to read, he realized. Or if she read for pleasure at all. Perhaps, after she returned to work, he ought to make an effort to get to know her better.
Finally his eyes lit on a collection of the myths of the Jade Lands, expensively bound in green leather, gilded and embossed with gold. Of course; he should have thought of this book sooner. The tales were fantastical and exciting, and they were short, easy for someone suffering from illness and fatigue to read. The book was a great favorite of his; he had purchased it with money saved up from his student stipend, the first money he had ever had of his own, a couple of years after he came to the University as a youth, and he had read it many, many times.
His hand hesitated as he reached to take it off the shelf. He hated to let it out of his sight, it was so dear to him. But Miss Tabrano needed it more than he did right now. He owed her something for the hard work she had been doing and the trouble he had caused her.
And more than that; he felt a need, driving yet warm and pleasant, to do something that would make her happy, that would cheer her up and let her know how much he valued her assistance and her company.
With that resolve, he took the book from the shelf and carried it over to his desk, where he sat down and opened the front cover. The inner flyleaf was inscribed, From the library of Professor Roric Rossony, University of Vorunne City. But this wasn’t just a loan, he realized now with some surprise. He wanted to make a gift of it to her. Surely that wasn’t inappropriate, was it? Surely a collection of myths was a suitable gift for a male employer to give his female employee. There wasn’t any inappropriate content in it, aside from what one would normally find in old tales of gods and heroes.
If she was offended, he would apologize. But right now, he couldn’t think of anything more suitable to send her. And if he missed the book, he could easily purchase another copy.
Determined to go through with his idea despite his qualms, he inked his pen. After a moment’s thought, he wrote beneath the inscription, To Miss Tabrano, With my best regards and wishes for a rapid recovery, Prof. R. Rossony.
He blotted the writing and let the book sit open a few moments to allow the ink to completely dry while he found a piece of the brown paper that his last order of books had come wrapped in. He wrapped the book in the paper and tied the bundle with a piece of string; tomorrow he would give it to the orderly who was courting the young lady in Miss Tabrano’s dormitory to deliver. Satisfaction filled him as he wrapped the gift; on the rare occasions when he gave or received gifts, they were usually books of scholarly interest or bottles of expensive liquor exchanged between colleagues to mark promotions or other important occasions, but this felt like the most momentous gift he had ever given. He wished he could be there to see her face when she opened the package. But he would have to be content with knowing he had done his best to lift her spirits and assure her of his high regard for her.
Feeling more settled in his mind now, if not less lonely, he sat down to finish writing the lecture he had been struggling with for the past two days.
(Roric POV) (From Chapter 5)
It took less than a day of Miss Tabrano being absent for Roric to realize just how much her company had become an essential part of his days. Though she certainly wasn’t a noisy companion, his study seemed far too quiet without her pen scratching away at her translations, the flipping of the pages of the book she was translating as she cross-referenced back and forth, her occasional slight sounds of puzzlement, frustration, or satisfaction. After only one day, he missed her presence beside him at morning Lecture, missed walking with her to the Professors’ Hall to begin their workday, missed their conversations over breakfast.
Somehow, he had let her carve out a place for herself in his intentionally solitary life. And now, only one day after she showed up for work with a bad cold and he gave her what relief he could with his Healing ability and sent her back to her dormitory to recover, he was feeling the emptiness where she was supposed to be.
It served him right, he thought as he stared down at the notes for the lecture he was supposed to be preparing, unable to focus on them in the solitude and silence. There was no fault with her work; any difficulty she was experiencing in keeping up with his demands was his fault, for overworking her so shamefully. Even if he had a good reason for pushing her so hard, there was such a thing as demanding too much, and he had crossed that line. And now, because of his meddling in her personal habits, which he had no business doing – it was her business if she wanted to take regular exercise, and what sort of exercise, not his – she was ill and he was alone.
And to think she had been afraid he would dismiss her from her position if she missed a few days due to illness. What sort of unconscionable person and employer was he?
He had to do something to make it up to her, or at least try to comfort her in her present miserable circumstances. But he had no idea what.
The rest of that day and all the next, he pondered the problem. Late the second afternoon, Roric learned from one of his favorite orderlies in the Professors’ Hall, who was courting a young lady who worked as an orderly in the female assistants’ dormitory, that Miss Tabrano was beginning to recover from her cold to a slight degree, enough that she was also beginning to suffer from boredom.
A new book, that was what she needed. Something to keep her mind occupied while her body regained its health. Roric looked over the stack of books he wanted her to translate, then rejected that idea. That was work, and work was not what she needed right now. She might think he was the type of person to mercilessly drive his employees, cold and compassionless and dedicated to work to the complete exclusion of human feeling, but he wasn’t, not really. Or, at least, he didn’t want to be that sort of person. And for reasons he wasn’t sure of, it seemed very important to assure Miss Tabrano that he wasn’t.
He left his desk and walked along the bookshelves in the study area of his main room, filled with books on the history and scholarship of magic, then the sitting area, where he kept his collection of books not related to his work. He eyed the book he read at night when he was having trouble sleeping, then moved on. She needed something light and pleasant and enjoyable, to lift her spirits as she recovered from her illness.
He surveyed his collection of the most important novels, poems, and plays of the last forty years. Many of them he had read, and many of those were quite good, but they still didn’t seem right. He supposed his tastes even in recreational reading were dry and ponderous, not the sort of thing a young lady recovering from an illness would like.
He actually had no idea what sort of books she liked to read, he realized. Or if she read for pleasure at all. Perhaps, after she returned to work, he ought to make an effort to get to know her better.
Finally his eyes lit on a collection of the myths of the Jade Lands, expensively bound in green leather, gilded and embossed with gold. Of course; he should have thought of this book sooner. The tales were fantastical and exciting, and they were short, easy for someone suffering from illness and fatigue to read. The book was a great favorite of his; he had purchased it with money saved up from his student stipend, the first money he had ever had of his own, a couple of years after he came to the University as a youth, and he had read it many, many times.
His hand hesitated as he reached to take it off the shelf. He hated to let it out of his sight, it was so dear to him. But Miss Tabrano needed it more than he did right now. He owed her something for the hard work she had been doing and the trouble he had caused her.
And more than that; he felt a need, driving yet warm and pleasant, to do something that would make her happy, that would cheer her up and let her know how much he valued her assistance and her company.
With that resolve, he took the book from the shelf and carried it over to his desk, where he sat down and opened the front cover. The inner flyleaf was inscribed, From the library of Professor Roric Rossony, University of Vorunne City. But this wasn’t just a loan, he realized now with some surprise. He wanted to make a gift of it to her. Surely that wasn’t inappropriate, was it? Surely a collection of myths was a suitable gift for a male employer to give his female employee. There wasn’t any inappropriate content in it, aside from what one would normally find in old tales of gods and heroes.
If she was offended, he would apologize. But right now, he couldn’t think of anything more suitable to send her. And if he missed the book, he could easily purchase another copy.
Determined to go through with his idea despite his qualms, he inked his pen. After a moment’s thought, he wrote beneath the inscription, To Miss Tabrano, With my best regards and wishes for a rapid recovery, Prof. R. Rossony.
He blotted the writing and let the book sit open a few moments to allow the ink to completely dry while he found a piece of the brown paper that his last order of books had come wrapped in. He wrapped the book in the paper and tied the bundle with a piece of string; tomorrow he would give it to the orderly who was courting the young lady in Miss Tabrano’s dormitory to deliver. Satisfaction filled him as he wrapped the gift; on the rare occasions when he gave or received gifts, they were usually books of scholarly interest or bottles of expensive liquor exchanged between colleagues to mark promotions or other important occasions, but this felt like the most momentous gift he had ever given. He wished he could be there to see her face when she opened the package. But he would have to be content with knowing he had done his best to lift her spirits and assure her of his high regard for her.
Feeling more settled in his mind now, if not less lonely, he sat down to finish writing the lecture he had been struggling with for the past two days.
