6.56 – Consequences II
There were few n and won across Valhaur that held the prestigious title of 'top ranker,' a person who had climbed to the nearly unbelievable height of level fifteen or above, and the Dean of Tenet Academy was, perhaps unsurprisingly, one such woman.
Dean Pemcroft was a woman in middle age. She sat behind an ornate mahogany desk, brown hair done in a ponytail, seeming annoyed. That alone was enough to make Natalie break into a sweat. An irritated top ranker. Much less the dean of the academy she attended. This woman was the absolute last person on campus, maybe the world, that she wanted annoyed with her.
And yet here the Dean was, glaring at her like an impudent student who'd caused her a headache.
Which, uh. Was exactly what had happened.
Baron Crestwood was less annoyed, more red-faced. He seed to be barely restraining an outburst—probably only due to the woman of incredible status in the room with him. The affable figure from earlier was nowhere to be seen, which was maybe fair, considering the circumstances.
Then again, not really. Alaina was her own person, and what she decided to do with Natalie was her own business. The Baron had no right to be upset at her for what his daughter did, or what the two of them did together.
Well. Besides maybe how it had happened in the middle of a public alleyway, which was technically illegal, and how they had been caught. It might be less about the dalliance and more about the specifics. All the sa, Natalie couldn't help but feel his anger was at least partially unreasonable.
What followed, over the next half-hour, was an extrely uncomfortable encounter. The Baron ranted and raved about Natalie's 'completely unacceptable behavior,' and 'was this how Tenet students comported themselves on missions?' and so on and so on.
Alaina, bless her, seed to have made it clear that Natalie wasn't fully to bla; the Baron didn't pretend that Natalie had seduced his daughter, or so nonsense of that sort. Just that her behavior, as an agent of Tenet, was unacceptable.
Throughout, Natalie gritted her teeth and bore the tirade. She defended herself the best she could, with the Dean playing an irritable moderator.
This wasn't her first ti dealing with an angry parent, though it was the highest-stake variation of the event she'd experienced, since it had never happened with a woman of national reputation in the room. Natalie had even dealt with angrier parents than the Baron, and in situations where their anger hadn't needed to be moderated.
That said, Natalie would have much preferred for the Dean to not have been there. As much as her presence muted what the Baron could say, it also made things worse for Natalie. Because the woman controlled her life at the Academy—or whether she had a spot at all, quite frankly.
The Dean was definitely on the Baron's side, which wasn't surprising. Natalie suffered through, trying to play contrite and apologetic, which wasn't her strong suit. After her previous catastrophic lack of judgnt, though, she forced herself to keep silent. Though maybe more than a renewed sense of good judgnt, it was the Dean's withering gaze that kept her mouth sealed.
One major mistake was enough, Natalie told herself. She bit her tongue on her real opinions on the matter. She had a penchant for doubling down and getting herself into deeper trouble, but she was already plenty deep enough. She couldn't afford to keep digging. Even she had so innate level of self preservation.
When the Baron's outrage had sputtered out, and Natalie had provided her weak defenses, and the Dean had assured him that proper punishnt would be forthcoming, he left in a huff, muttering to himself as he went. Natalie barely stopped herself from glaring at his back.
With the door closed behind the Baron, it was just her and the Dean.
Where Natalie had needed to struggle to stay silent during her dressing-down, now that it was just her and the Dean, she found silence exceptionally easy. One, two, then three full minutes passed as she sat in front of the Dean's desk and squird, one of the most powerful won in the world glaring at her. Natalie didn't dare speak first. Only when a genuine fight-or-flight response started to bubble up, and she was considering running away and starting a new life elsewhere, did the Dean speak.
Two fingers on each hand went up to rub at her temples.
"I rember," she said flatly, "what it is like to be young. But doing such a thing, with the city baron's daughter, in the middle of an alleyway, and being caught?" Her fingers didn't stop rubbing, though the action didn't seem to provide much relief. "I would ask what you were thinking, but it's obvious you weren't. Not for a second."
Her glare dared Natalie to deny the accusation, but Natalie only returned red-faced mortification. That didn't mollify the Dean—she wasn't sure if anything would—but at least she didn't get angrier.
A long, exhausted sigh left the woman. Her hands dropped down onto her desk.
"It's not often I know the nas of first-year students, Natalie," Dean Pemcroft said. "Not ones who reach my attention solely from their activities at the Academy. And yet I knew your na before today. I can't say I'm surprised. It's rare for a na to pass my desk and go forgotten. One implies two implies a pattern."
Natalie thought it smart to stay quiet, but an arched eyebrow indicated she was supposed to speak.
Maybe she should have apologized first, but she found herself asking: "You knew my na? Why?" That revelation had caught her by surprise, enough so that she couldn't help but blurt the question out.
"Do you know how common it is for unknown students from the southern countryside to qualify for Tenet?" Dean Pemcroft asked dryly. "Much less, within weeks, to beco a leading team among the student base? And not just one of you, but three, from the sa tiny town."
"… rare?" Natalie hedged.
"Rare? Unheard of. Combined with the accounts from your instructors describing your unusually quick growth, of course the upper faculty have taken note—including . Did you think we wouldn't?"
"I guess I hadn't thought about it."
The Dean's gaze turned withering once again. "Yes, I assu not thinking is a trend with you."
Natalie's face burned, but she managed to bite down a retort.
"There's the matter of the quest report your team submitted as well," the Dean said. "That reached my desk just this morning. Impressive, the results you achieved, considering the aberrant forces you were t with. Your team would've been due a congratulations until this popped up." She sighed. "Still are due a congratulations, but any benevolent attitudes of mine have been temporarily spoiled. In short, yes, Natalie, I knew your na before today."
Having the attention of a top-ranker would normally be desirable, but in this case, Natalie really wished she'd remained a nobody.
"Tenet students are expected to carry themselves in a dignified manner," the Dean said, sighing. "The only saving grace is that despite the brazenness of your actions, the consequences of your indiscretion seem to be contained, and thus minor. Had the Crestwood family suffered a genuine reputational crisis, this conversation would be very different. And please make no mistake—your judgnt has been called into question henceforth."
The Dean drumd her fingers across her desk.
"High-rank delvers are important to society," she said, "and that seems to be the path you and your team are heading for. But your value cos only partially from your ability to kill monsters, or even act as a powerful warrior for a nation. When a person can rampage through a city with the power to tear down buildings with singular swipes of their weapon, their judgnt and stability becos everything. High-rankers, much less top-rankers, are scrutinized very, very carefully, Natalie, by a large number of people you do not want to get on the wrong side of."
The Dean delivered the words with a calm threat that turned Natalie's embarrassnt to concern. A trickle of cold went down her spine.
"Fortunately, you are young," the Dean said, her intensity fading, leaning back in her chair with a wave of a hand. "Gratuitous punishnts and so ntorship will hopefully straighten you out—before your reputation with the powers that be is ruined in earnest. As such, you've been indefinitely assigned to morning duties."
Natalie paled. Indefinitely? That didn't an the rest of the year, did it?
"Along with ntorship sessions with your primary combat lead, Instructor Robin," the Dean finished. "She volunteered."
At that, Natalie blinked. Instructor Robin? Her thoughts veered in a whole different direction, because her last aningful interaction with Instructor Robin had been a distinctly confusing one, with Natalie thinking the older woman had been flirting with her under the guise of telling Natalie that she 'needed to control herself, or she'd be punished.'
And now she'd volunteered to take over Natalie's 'ntorship sessions'?
"This is where you say, 'thank you, Dean,'" the Dean said. "And 'I promise never to cause you problems again.' Please realize, I show rcy only once.'"
The words were delivered with enough iciness that Natalie instantly repeated them verbatim.
As daunting as indefinite morning duties were, alongside whatever these ntorship sessions would be, she couldn't help but feel she'd gotten off light. A part of her had irrationally expected to be marched off to the brig once she'd heard that the Dean herself would be speaking with her.
"Now, go," the Dean said, waving. "I have paperwork to deal with, not least of it thanks to you."
With all haste, Natalie fled the Dean's office.
Reviews
All reviews (0)