Ghost in the Roses

Another week has passed by. A week of pure torture. The only good thing that came out of it is that my stomach is a lot more toner and my class has finally managed to write reports to Sir Dima’s satisfaction. But for two days, none of the instructors bother us. I still have plenty to do and weekends are pretty much set aside for running errands necessary to prepare me for the next week.

This Friday is pretty much like any other and is always set aside to pick up my freshly cleaned formal uniform that required specific care. Under the authority of my town pass, here I am with my ticket in hand waiting for my number to be called. Then, I hear a feminine voice call me.

“Adrien?” an elegant figure approaches from the side.

“Hmm?” it takes me a second to realize who this is. She looks different wearing a long-sleeved summer dress and not a ball gown.

“Anita!” I get a little bit carried away with my excitement.

“I hoped you would recognize me.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Um...I’m picking up my silk dress,” laughing, she waves a ticket in her hand.

“Of course,” this is beyond embarrassing.

Just then my number gets called, but I don’t want to leave it at that.

“Hey, what are you doing after you get your dress picked up?”

“Nothing. I’m just waiting on my father to be done with some emergency meeting at the Academy,” her answer is casual and cool, unlike me.

“Well...” I check my pocket watch. “It’s almost noon. Do you want to have lunch with me?”

“I would like that,” Anita’s smile is most sincere.

With our neatly packaged clothes smelling like starch in hand, Anita picks a cafe that’s on the other side of the plaza. A white-clothed table at a corner window gives us a little bit of privacy to awkwardly smile at each other.

“I’ve never seen anything like that before,” I nod at a most fascinating water spectacle proudly displayed as the restaurant’s centerpiece.

The movement of the water resembles so much of a fountain, but it has no base or fixtures to keep it going. By some unseen force, the liquid twirls and twists in thin air.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I grew up in Nathas Village. We only have one stone fountain at the public market and some waterfalls in the nearby forest.”

“This is water bending - a very complex art. This place must have commissioned a sorcerer to make this elemental spell for them. It only lasts a day or two though.”

“You know so much. Both times I saw you I learned something completely new,” her company fascinates me.

“I lived here in Petograd all my life. I’m bound to notice things around here one way or another,” she smiles.

A well-mannered server in a crisp apron approaches our table. “Welcome. Hope you had a wonderful morning. My name is Elian and I’ll be at your service. Here are your menus. May I get you something to drink while you decide what to order?”

I decide on a dark roasted coffee and Anita asks for a carbonated vanilla cream. Our server and the kitchen prove to be quick on their feet.

“Have they let you ride the dragons yet?“Anita pokes at the foaming tall glass with her straw.

“Yeah, on the very first day.”

“On the first day? What was it like?” she leans in, obviously very intrigued by the subject.

“It’s amazing, such an adrenaline rush. They’re the most incredible creatures of flight.”

In fear of spoiling her fascination, I leave out the details of Kai’s attempted murder.

”I always wanted to ride one. Just once would be enough for me. It’s too bad only knights and cadets are allowed to keep them.”

“Well, you got the connection now. Maybe one day I can do you the favor,”

“Won’t you get in trouble for that?”

“Not if I’m the one at the reins, but you’ll have to wait for a little. I’ll be allowed to name my own dragon soon enough into the semester. ”

“Oh, I can hardly wait. Just for that, you must really love the Academy.”

“Oh, it’s really good. It’s great,” I lie.

Her raised eyebrow let me know that I’m not very good at that.

“Okay. Okay. It’s a nightmare. I mean I knew what I was getting myself into, but at the same time, I’d never expected it to be so rough and difficult. ”

“Hard work builds character, young lad,” she impersonates a classic dad.

“Well, thank gods the weekend is here. I least I get a bit of a break,” I shake my head at her corny joke.

“Said no waiter ever,” our server surprises us with a joke. “Are you ready to order?”

We both chuckle. I begin to like this place.

When our food arrives, Anita and I are already deep into discussing the topic of our childhood upbringing and current hobbies. But at some point in our conversation, we can't ignore the growing echoes from the street any longer. It sounds like...singing, like a hundred-voices-strong choir kind of singing. Their song grows louder and louder and so does a clicking of shoes against the brick road.

“What is that?” Anita leans toward the window.

I turn around, “Are that?...people marching?”

“I never saw any posters for a parade,” Anita frowns.

“This is not a parade,” I observe a multitude of citizens holding up banners and posters.

“It’s a protest,” Anita declares.

“Against what?” the canvas posters keep flinching in the breeze as I try to make out the writings on them.

“It’s against the kings. It’s against the Domains,” her eyes grow wide.

Everyone stops in their tracks and watches out of the windows as a flood of plainly dresses people pour in from the other end of the road. Their dark attire let me know how unfamiliar they all are to my world of richness and color. In their stern eyes, I see how unfamiliar I’m with theirs.

The outside scene explains why the road was so empty before and why I was instructed by an officer to tie my horse on the other side of the avenue. Someone from the high offices must have known this was going to happen.

A customer from some far table is not pleased and finally speaks out about her displeasure, “That’s why my carriage was not allowed to park nearby?! What idiot gave those fools a permit to do this?!”

Anita and I say nothing as we switch gazes at the protesters and then at each other. Our eyes are glued to the happening outside and we no longer care to finish our stuffed omelets.

I’ve got to admit, both times I spent time with Anita I witnessed something I’ve never seen before. But this time, neither of us saw this coming.