Arri- May 20, 2004

May 20, 2004
Dear Keish,

This is going to be a very long letter. Hours and days and weeks and months of tedious studying every subject ever invented have ended. I took the test today. But I’m going to begin with your letter, which I just finished reading and then tell you about yesterday before I tell you about today.

Interviewing maids sounds terrifying to me. I’m sure I could never make a decision. It’s a good thing you have Marta to help. That many interviews in such a short period of time sounds confusing. Are you both interviewing them together, or do they have to be interviewed twice? It seems like it would save time to interview them together, and maybe be less stressful for them. Uncle Winthrop has always hired our servants. Of course there haven’t been many. Nacks was the only full-time servant. Uncle W. is going to hire an assistant for the lab soon, but I guess that’s entirely different. I agree with you: I think I’d rather plan a wedding or even retake the college entrance exam. Clara has left me alone the past several weeks. I think the wedding plans must be going smoothly. She sent me a note the day before the test wishing me luck, but other than that I’ve heard little from her.
Imato’s valet will have to be very precise and punctual. I recommend that he own at least two watches and adjust them weekly. (Don’t let Imato see this. Really, I’m almost joking.)
Imato should not be there. He doesn’t even know what troop he will be assigned to after he gets his knighthood and only ten of the hundred troops are on active duty right now, and only four are on the border with Greste. One troop is in charge of the military school. So there’s no reason for him to go running off to Greste.
A wedding on the beach sounds beautiful! I love the ocean. It’s so peaceful. Sampling wedding cake sounds like fun to me.

I have lunch with Taty almost every other week. Brynn has joined us a few times. She always asks me about my progress with magic and shakes her head at my slow progress. I guess Uncle Winthrop’s efforts to slow me down are working. I haven’t practiced magic at all for the last two weeks, because I’ve been so focused on the entrance exam. When I arrived at Taty’s for lunch yesterday, Brynn was there.
“I’ll just stay a minute to wish you good fortune on the exam,” she said, looking not quite as though she meant it, “how has your studying been?”
“Brynn!” cried Taty, “we’re not even to think of the exam today—Master Imkel’s orders. Arri is here to relax her mind. Today we will talk of nothing but the upcoming weddings and, of course, horses.” She smiled brightly at me, “What news do you have of Moonstone and Glory?”
“Well, I won’t interfere,” Brynn smiled. She nodded her head at each of us and slipped out of the parlor.
Together Taty and I read the latest letter from Sean detailing Moonstone’s progress with a halter. It was only a couple of paragraphs, but we poured over it for nearly half an hour until the maid carried in our sandwiches and peppermint tea. Taty knows very little about training foals, so I told her what I had been reading in my foaling primer about foals’ first couple months of life.
“If I ever live away from the city,” she commented, “perhaps I will try training a foal.”
“Do you like Rousha?” I asked.
“Oh, very much,” said Taty, “I’m sure I could never live too far away from the symphony and the opera. Did I tell you that Master Gordan Calibri has invited me to the symphony? Miss Kelly Minn and Master Vince GreenLake are coming. I tried to scare up a companion for you, but I just wasn’t sure who would suit. I haven’t been out in society long enough.” She sighed.
“I love the symphony, but I’m not sure I want to go out with anyone right now anyway.”
“No, I suppose not,” Taty shrugged. Then she giggled  and took a deep breath to stop it.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing, just a stray thought. Miss Kelly Minn stopped by earlier,” Taty glanced out the window and sighed.
We talked about yours and Jace’s wedding plans for a while. Lunch was long over, but Taty is a good talker and I like listening to her. Still, the hot tea was making us drowsy and we lapsed into silence.
“Miss Taty?” asked a maid, poking her head into the room, “Miss Minn has returned.”
“She forgot her scarf!” exclaimed Taty.  She picked up a bright red scarf from the arm of a chair. “Show her right in Vicky.”
A minute later the maid returned with Miss Kelly Minn. I had been introduced to her once before, but we’d never really spoken. She rushed in with an embarrassed expression on her face.
“Do pardon me,” she said, “I wish I didn’t forget things so often.” Miss Minn is a tiny young lady with fine pale features. Despite the beautiful weather, she was dressed warmly. She accepted the scarf from Taty and twined it around in her hands, eyes straying to me.
“How are you Lady Arri?” she asked, “I’m sorry to hear of your troubles.”
“Troubles?” I started to wonder if she meant Father, but Taty almost immediately burst into giggles.
“Sorry Arri,” she said quickly, “You haven’t had a chance to read the Fly-by yet.”
“Oh,” I felt my face redden and a sense of dilemma. What was the gossip column saying now?
“I don’t read the Fly-by,” I said finally, folding my arms and looking away, feigning disinterest.
“Pardon me,” Miss Minn responded, her voice incredulous, “Still, I hope the best for you tomorrow. It must be dreadful for you to think about. Really, I hope for the best resolution. I hear nothing but good of you from Taty.” She sounded sincerely concerned.
“The Fly-by knows about the test?” I was so startled that I couldn’t feign indifference anymore. Taty began laughing so hard she could hardly breathe.
“It’s not—“ she bent over holding her sides, “—that at all. It’s—“ gasp, “—Lord Tecsin—“ gasp, “—Lord Westridge—“ another wave of laughter swept her.
Miss Minn looked horrified. I was baffled.
“Miss Pren…” she trailed off in confusion.
“What does the Fly-by say?” I asked finally.
Miss Minn looked uncertain. Her pretty face was blotched with white and red patches and her breath puffed out in a nervous gasp.
“After you snubbed Lord Tecsin at the ball in favor of Lord Westridge…” she faltered as Taty tried to reign in her laughter. My face was already as red as it could get. “Lord Tecsin challenged Lord Westridge to a duel…” she trailed off again, watching my face, “you don’t know, do you?”
“No I never heard of it,” I stammered. Taty’s laughter began to subside.
“It’s not true, of course,” gasped Taty, “it’s just the funniest thing I’ve heard all week. I would have warned you this morning, Arri, but I know you don’t like hearing about yourself in the Fly-by. I was going to mail the article to Keish later today. It’s really classic.”
“I don’t know,” began Miss Minn slowly, “the Fly-by has an almost magical way of finding things out. Perhaps you should talk to Lord Westridge.  It’s no longer considered appropriate for gentlemen to duel over ladies. And if you prefer Lord Westridge, you don’t want him to risk getting hurt.”
“Lord Westridge and I are friends,” I said quickly, “he isn’t courting me.”
“But we all saw you dancing two nights ago,” Miss Minn protested.
“All the ladies dance with multiple partners,” I reminded her, “we’re just friends.”
“Oh,” Miss Minn wound and unwound the scarf from her hands, “Then I’m sorry to be the cause of so much confusion this afternoon. I should take my leave. Please, accept my apologies.” She held out her gloved hand earnestly and I took it briefly.
“It’s the Fly-by that caused the confusion,” I told her.
Miss Minn left with the scarf still in her hands and a troubled expression on her face. I sat down and put my face in my hands. Taty sighed.
“Would you like to read it?” she asked with a giggle.
“No!” I responded.
“I know it’s an awful column, but maybe it’s better to know what rumors are floating about.” Taty suggested.
“No, thanks,” I said.
Taty kindly changed the subject.

I suppose hearing about the Fly-by was a good way of distracting my attention away from the entrance exam. I felt angry for a couple of hours after that.  When I got home I tried to quiet my mind by reading from the foaling primer. Then I burned dinner and had a horrible time getting to sleep. Nysa said the test wasn’t important enough for so much worry.
The entrance exam was administered in the Language Arts building of Rousha University. It’s one of the oldest buildings on campus and looks like it could crumble to the ground at any moment. In fact some of the corners have crumbled at the roof line. Wooden planks block up the holes. I felt a tingling sensation as I passed through the front door, like the sensation I get passing into the caves. I think there’s a spell on the building, but I’m not sure what it could be.
The testing room was large—I didn’t have time to count the desks but there must have been over a hundred. I was early so I picked a desk in the far corner near the back. The few young men that arrived before my stopped what they were doing to stare. I kept my head down and tried to ignore them. I’m not sure it was a good idea to arrive so early, but I couldn’t stand the waiting any longer. I left three and a half hours early so I could walk from the apartment. If I do go to medical school in the fall, I will have to arrange transportation. I walk rather fast and it still took three hours to get to campus.
I tried not to look at the clock too much, but there was nothing else in the room to look at except the students filtering in. Many pointed and whispered when they noticed me. The seats around mine stayed empty as people chose other parts of the room to sit in. I kept glancing around for Mendel, but I didn’t see him. Eventually, when most of the seats were taken and it was impossible not to sit near me anymore, the seat just ahead of me was taken by a skinny red-headed young man, who looked no more than thirteen or fourteen years old.
“Pardon me, miss,” he said, bowing politely, “but may I introduce myself? I’m Master Gordo Yawmus of Camlen.”
I stood awkwardly. My face had been solidly red for nearly half an hour at that point.
“Lady Arrietta Etautca,” I replied.
“Really?” his eyes widened,  “the daughter of Sir Etautca? It’s an honor.” He bowed again. I wondered how old he really was—he looked so young.
“You knew my father?” I asked.
“Oh—no, just that my dad served under Sir Etautca and now my older brother just became a squire. We have a lot of respect for your father and pray for his quick recovery.”
“Thank you,” I said. He must really be as young as he looks, if his older brother was just made a squire.
At that moment a professor walked to the front of the room and called for everyone’s attention. There was a shuffle at the door and Mendel darted into the room.
“Hi, Lady Arri,” he called and took the last seat next to me. We all sat down to listen to the professor’s instructions.
I won’t describe the test for you. It was the most miserable test I have ever taken. Every half hour someone at the front of the room hit a gong so loudly that all my concentration was scattered for a few minutes. The gong was supposed to help us pace ourselves through the hour and a half, but all it did for me was cause panic. Then we had a half hour break followed by another miserable hour and a half of questions.
I felt like crying when I finally answered the last question and set my pencil down. A few minutes later I jumped at the sound of the last gong and the test was over. I put my head in my hands and waited for everyone else to leave before me. There was a lot of shuffling as everyone raced for the door. Then I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Mendel. He stepped back quickly when I looked up. His face was a bit pink.
“Would you like to get some ice cream with me?” he asked quickly.
“Yes, that sounds nice,” I said, reddening for no reason I could think of. I glanced in front of me and saw that the red-headed kid was watching us. Mendel noticed too.
 “Would you like to come too?” asked Mendel, “we ought to celebrate or something.” Master Yawmus looked startled. I saw that I needed to make an introduction. I stood up stiffly.
“Master Yawmus, this is Master Mendel Westridge of Odsreq. Master Westridge, this is Master Gordo Yawmus of Camlen.” They shook hands dutifully.
“Well?” asked Mendel, “Ice cream?”
“I’m much obliged, sir,” said Master Yawmus, “I… I don’t really know anyone yet.”
“Well, any friend of Lady Arri…” Mendel shook his hand again in a friendly way. “Let’s go!” and Mendel led us out of room like soldiers returning from battle.
I hadn’t realized how big Rousha University is. The oldest buildings, like the Language Arts are crumbling away with the seasons, but as the university expands, new buildings are added. The campus sits on the opposite side of Old Rousha from where I live, and they tore down the old city wall so that they could build the medical school on the New Rousha side of things.  The medical school contains most of the newest buildings, but even those are at least fifty years old. They look very much like the newest parts of the city with red walls and little ornamentation: tall, straight, and very modern. Mendel led us to one these buildings and into the café where they keep a year round supply of frozen foods in the deep basement. Ice cream is still easy to find in May—by August it will be rare and expensive along with everything else that has to be kept packed in ice.
We ordered strawberry sundaes with fudge and whipped cream. I haven’t had ice cream in over a year; it was lovely. We spent most of the time talking to Master Yawmus. We learned that he comes from a poor soldier’s family and that his father was killed in battle ten years ago, so he doesn’t remember him much. He’s the youngest of six chidren: four girls and two boys. Two of his sisters are married and his mother spent every coin she had getting his brother into the military academy. There would not have been any way to pay for his higher education, but he graduated so young (he really is only fourteen), that he attracted the attention of the crown prince, who offered him a scholarship if he passed the entrance exam.
“How do you think you did?” asked Mendel at that point in the conversation.
Master Yawmus grinned, “It wasn’t as hard as I thought it might be—I thought there’d be more math and science. It was—“ he stopped short and reddened almost to the color of his hair. Mendel and I looked at each other and I realized suddenly that we were both thinking the same thing: he’s crazy if he says that test was easy. “Well, anyway,” Master Yawmus began again more awkwardly, “I think I passed.”
“What are you going to study?” asked Mendel.
“I don’t know yet. I’m going to take general classes for a year and then decide. The Prince wants me to study medicine, but he said I could think it over and he would give me the scholarship regardless of my major.” He then asked about our majors and it was embarrassing to admit that I never finished school. All of Master Yawmus’s sisters had to drop out of school when his father died. The oldest was fourteen, but their mother taught then at home so all of them learned the basics.
“It’s too bad,” said Master Yawmus, “the oldest, Ingrid, would have done well in college. She’s married now and has two kids.” I thought to myself that your public girls’ schools would be a very good idea in Odsreq too.
Eating ice cream and talking to Master Yawmus was a great distraction away from the test. I’m sure I failed—it was so hard to think in that room and I felt like I was guessing so much of the time. We won’t see the results for an entire week. I think I’ll go crazy not knowing.
When we finished the ice cream, Mendel stood up. “One more item of business today,” he said grimly.
“What’s that?” I asked, curious.
“The entire city of Rousha is expecting a duel at sunset today and Sean refuses to oblige them, so I’ll have to do it. You and Master Yawmus can help.”
“What?” asked Master Yawmus, looking startled.
“I overheard Mother lecturing Sean the other night on the dangers of dueling,” Mendel grinned at me, “apparently he and young Lord Tecsin are supposed to have a duel at sunset over Lady Arri. It was in the Fly-by.”
“I don’t read the Fly-by,” I said.
“Me neither,” said Mendel, “I read one once and it was terribly written, but still… Will you help, Master Yawmus?”
The boy looked nervous, “I don’t want to get in trouble,” he explained, “I’ve never been to Rousha before and Mother trusts me.”
“I don’t play pranks anymore,” I said.
“It’s not worse than anything you did with Prince Tulson,” Mendel argued, “we won’t get in trouble. I promise it will be hilarious. I have everything ready.”
It turned out that Mendel was almost late for the entrance exam because he was building wooden models of Lord Tecsin and Sean. He had hidden them in an alley off the main street of downtown Rousha. We waited until a few minutes before closing time to drag them out onto the street. Master Yawmus was pretty quiet, but it seemed like he cared enough about winning Mendel’s friendship that he was willing to help with this. Mendel kept assuring him what a good joke it was and nothing would get hurt.
The next step involved some minor magic. Mendel had a small potion already prepared that he sprinkled on the dummies. Then we set them up about forty feet apart and drew circles around them.
“It would be funnier if Sean and Lord Tecsin were helping,” explained Mendel, “but this will still be impressive.”
He dragged us back behind a bench and said a spell.
“Lord Westridge!” he shouted and I jumped because his voice sounded so much like Phyfe’s, “you have attempted to steal the good name of the fair Lady Arrietta! Prepare to pay for your crimes!”
Mendel whispered the spell again.
“Lord Tecsin!” and his voice sounded remarkably like Sean, “you have claimed what was never yours to begin with—the hand of the fair Lady Arrietta! You will not have her!”
I looked around and saw a crowd gathering.
“Stand back, everyone!” Mendel shouted in his own voice, and as the dummies were already beginning to smoke, the crowd willingly made a wide circle. Mendel waited until they were all well out of the way.
“Ready!” he called out, “Aim!” he paused for dramatic emphasis, “Fire!”
Both wooden dummies immediately exploded in flames. Several people screamed and jumped backwards, but the explosions were well-contained within the magic circles we had drawn. Most of the audience laughed when they realized no one was hurt.
Mendel whooped loudly, “I love magic! I could never have pulled off a stunt like that without it.”
I looked at Master Yawmus. He was pale and shaking like a leaf. “I don’t think I’ll write home about this,” he whispered.
After the flames died, Mendel cleaned the street as thoroughly as he could, although there were still black marks on the paving stones where the dummies stood. They will wear away gradually. It was a dramatic ending to the day, that’s for certain.

It’s late and I’ve been writing a long time, so I’m going to end here. Today was so exhausting! I thought about writing in the morning but I really wanted to write while everything was still fresh in my head.

I wish Gretel, Imato, Jace, and you all good luck with the hiring. May you get enough sleep!

Love,
Arri

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