Reminiscence {part 2}
It was always a headache, dealing with new transfers—it involved rearranging schedules and rotations, as well as determining their strengths and weaknesses when it came to teaching. To say nothing of the hours she would have to spend observing their techniques, monitoring how they interacted with the students. It was even more difficult on the extremely rare occurrences when the guardian transferring in already had been an assigned a charge.  The Academy frowned on individual students having guardians of their own—though it couldn’t be helped sometimes. Unfortunately, Royals often found ways to circumvent the rules in their favor, managing to get their way—especially when they were high ranking and in the Queen’s favor.
Pinching the bridge of her nose, she looked over the file she had pulled, reading up on the student in question. Prince Victor Dashkov’s niece Lana had been appointed a guardian of her own—at her Uncle’s explicit request. There was no mention  why the girl  needed one, or who that guardian might be—all Alberta could hope was that it wasn’t some wet behind the ears rookie who had no idea what would be expected of them upon their arrival at the gates. There wouldn’t be any shirking of patrols or refusal to sit in on classes—those things were required from every single guardian on campus, and there were no  exceptions to that rule. Whoever the guardian was, they wouldn’t just be responsible for their charge—they would be accountable for the safety and wellbeing of every single student on campus, whether they liked it or not.
A sharp knock on the door to her office pulled her out of her thoughts; without bothering to look up from the file, she called out—her voice brisk, lightly laced with the irritation she was feeling. “Enter.”
"Guardian Sebastien Nagant-Ozera reporting for duty, Madam Petrov.” Â
The name startled her, jerking her head up; she stared across the space between them, for a moment, unable to speak. It catapulted her back into the past, to the day of the incident that had spurred her request to be taken out of the field and assigned to an Academy.
“It is my honor to be serving here at Saint Vladimir's with you—I hope to repay you for the kindness you showed me on the day that we met. The memory of it… of you… they gave me the strength to become the man I am today."
Staring at him, she thought about the tiny, blue eyed boy who’d unknowingly latched on to her heartstrings; he’d awakened a yearning deep inside her that had lay dormant for most of her life. Many a night she had lain awake, thinking about that poor, motherless child—the ache inside her not easing until the day Janine Hathaway had practically shoved Rose’s tiny, warm body into her arms and walked away without a second glance. And now he was here… right in front of her… a fully grown man—strangely enough,  that desire to nurture and comfort him was still there, roused from its long sleep and rearing its maternal head.
“Bastien? My God!”
“Oui Madam. In the flesh.” His face crinkled up in an easygoing smile; in it she could see the ghost of the little boy he’d been. The smooth skin and the chubby cheeks were gone—now his skin was almost as weathered as her own, making him look far older than his years—but the knowing, intelligent look in his eyes was still there, along with the haunted look of loss.
“I’m sorry, where are my manners—please… sit down. You surprised the hell out of me—I’ve often wondered what became of you. By the time I made it back to the office you were long gone—of course,  no one would tell me what they’d done with you. They said it wasn’t my concern. That whole incident… it’s what made me retire from field service. I was assigned here a few weeks later. Did they send you to school?  Or did they find someone to come get you?”
“They could locate no one at first, Madam… as I told you, my mother and father were all the family I had. They made a few calls… and then, right when they were on the verge of giving up… the Princess showed up and claimed me as kin.”
“Evette?” She couldn’t mask her surprise. “Interesting… I wonder why she—
“She is my Aunt. Half-sister to my father. She felt it was her duty to step up, knowing that he would not do the honorable thing.” There was no malice in his voice, though his accent thickened slightly. “Of course… I did not know it at the time. I thought perhaps my father had died too. That whoever killed my maman had killed him as well.”
“She has a boy your age, doesn’t she? If I remember correctly… his father was killed in an attack.”
“He is two years my senior—though he does not look it. People at school often mistook us for brothers. He is… a bit wild, I’m afraid. All he cares about are his own pleasures. He has none of his mother’s political aspirations—and no desire to protect the reputation of the Ozera clan, much to my father’s  dismay.”
She winced at the bitter, sarcastic note in his voice. “So you know the truth… why no one called him that day?”
“Oui. I know about his family… that he has a wife and a daughter that attends this Academy. I know that my mamma and I were his dirty little secret—on my first day of employment, Lady  Ileana Dashkov sat me down and regaled me with stories about their wonderful little family. I heard all about the amazing way Elizabeta Ozera handled the rumors of her husband’s blood whore and the bastard son she conceived.” His jaw noticeably tightened—his hands fisting on the arms of the chair he’d claimed. “They are cousins, you know—my father’s wife and my employer. It is almost enough to make one wonder if the reason I was handpicked was not for my skill or merit… but rather through her family connections—so that my father’s wife could be sure I would keep silent about the past.”
She frowned, instinctively sensing that his statement—though made in jest—was probably much more accurate than he knew. “I’m surprised the Princess didn’t enlist you. I would have thought—”
“She did not want me to go into service at all Madam. If you remember… on the day we met… I had no idea about Academies or even about the Guardians. Evette was hesitant to send me straight into schooling since I had no knowledge of such things—perhaps thinking that it was too great a change for a small child to adjust to so soon after losing his mother. And…  I think that she hoped to give me the chance at a normal life should I want one. She is very kind… though she is rather… cold. It is not intentional, mind you… it is just the way she is with everyone. She wanted to take me into her home but she knew that it would raise questions and expose my father’s secret, so she placed me with a retired Guardian that she trusted who had a small farm on the outskirts of Béziers. He taught me everything he knew and made the decision to enroll me at Saint Basil’s when I was ten—despite Evette’s protests. Even when I graduated she harped at me, telling me I should go back to the farm and live out my days in peace and not in servitude… but I suppose a part of me wanted to make my foster father proud by following in his footsteps.”
She studied his face, now understanding the wrinkles that decorated his brow and the corners of his eyes. Farming was a hard life—one that required many more hours in the sun than a Guardian spent on patrol. “Did you like being a farmer, Bastien? Do you regret the choice you made?”
He shrugged—a wonderful, expressive gesture that only the French seem able to manage. “At first… yes. I do not care for Ileana Dashkov at all. She is a spoiled, bitter woman who can be most callous with her daughters—almost to the point of cruelty where Mademoiselle Lana is concerned. A few days ago  I was on the verge of… how do you say—throwing in the towel? My foster father—Claude—he died last year, leaving me the farm, and I thought to return to it. But then I was informed that the Prince insisted I be reassigned to Lana.  I think it will be a most pleasant task. I believe I will enjoy it immensely.”
She glanced down at the file in front of her, frowning at what he’d said. “I wouldn’t be too sure of that—the girl seems like a handful. Are you aware that she set a classroom on fire last term? She was suspended for six weeks… but Prince Victor managed to get it knocked down to one.”
“Yes… I know she can be… high spirited—”
“High spirited… that’s one way to put it.” Alberta cut him off drily, turning to the next page. “Drinking.. sneaking out after curfew to cavort with male students… she’s almost as wild as Rosemarie Hathaway was before she ran away—and if you knew Rose, you’d understand… that’s saying a lot.”
“It is because of the way her mother treats her!” His voice was sharp and harsh, pulling her eyes from the page in front of her. “The woman lets India get away with murder, but condemns Lana for the slightest thing. If  India makes a mess, her sister must clean it. If India sneaks out—Lana should have prevented it. More than once I held my tongue, knowing that if I allowed myself to speak I might end up strangling the woman with my bare hands. She does not see that her daughter is intelligent and brave, with a strong, quick mind—she sees her as a troublemaker, treating her like a criminal when she should be praising the girl for her independence.”
Her gray eyes narrowed at his outburst, studying him intently, mentally committing every detail to memory. His eyes—those magnificent, Ozera ice blue eyes were alight with anger, his cheeks flushed with color as he tried to calm himself. “Are you sure you’re the right person to be guarding her, Sebastien? You seem… too close… to the situation.”
“We have always had an amiable relationship…  and she seems to listen to me. Even so, she still insists she needs no guardian—if they assigned someone else I believe it would just create more of an issue. La petite luciole… she needs someone who will not judge her harshly or unfairly. Someone who is on her side and will help her understand  when she does something wrong  without exploding or berating her for her mistakes. I am that person, Madam."
"Little firefly? More like little firebug." Alberta gave an unladylike snort, closing the file and crossing her hands atop it, staring at him so long that he broke the gaze first, eyes dropping to the floor. “ I am sure that it goes without saying that while you are on this campus… and while she is underage…you will keep your relationship strictly professional—”
“Madam!” He looked completely taken aback by what she’d been suggesting. “I can assure you I am an honorable man—and I hold Mademoiselle Dashkov in the highest regard!”
“Mhmmm… that’s apparent—which is why it had to be said. And when you realize why  I felt the need to say it… remember to keep it off campus.”
“She is only barely sixteen! I am almost twenty one—what you are saying… it is scandalous!”
“Don’t act outraged—I was stationed in France. Fifteen is considered a consenting adult there—which is part of the reason I mentioned anything in the first place.”
“And the other reason?” His voice was sullen, his full lips set in a pout that was absolutely adorable—though she refused to show it.
“If you haven’t figured it out by the time she graduates I’ll tell you. All I can say now is that a long time ago…. I defended someone I was guarding with as much passion as you’ve shown here today— and someone gave me a similar warning. At the time, I thought they were being paranoid—but soon enough my eyes were opened and I realized they saw what I was feeling before I even knew it myself.” He opened his mouth to argue—but she silenced him with a raised hand. “If I’m wrong and nothing happens… you’ll get an apology. When she graduates—at eighteen.”
He bristled, but let it go. “Any other words of wisdom before I go to collect my schedule?”
“Yes. It’s none of my business—but if I were you I would avoid Serafena Ozera like the plague. I’m sure you want to get to know her but—”
“Rest assured Madam—I have no intention of making myself known to her. Lady Dashkov was very specific on the matter, telling me in no uncertain terms that I was not allowed to talk to her. My father and his wife do not want their precious daughter to know I even exist.”
“I’m sorry Sebastien—”
“So am I. Things might have been very different if my father had been the type of man I always believed him to be—one who was honorable and just as opposed to a lying coward, hiding his true nature from those who loved him. Had my father admitted his sins and come to collect me that day… perhaps my sister and I would love each other the way siblings should instead of being complete strangers.”  He stood, bowing his head respectfully. “I hope that during my time here to become better acquainted with you Madam Petrov. I must confess that as a small boy… I often imagined what it might have been like if you had taken me as your own. I played out scenarios in my head… and for years when it hurt me to talk of my mamma… I described you in her place. Claude became my foster father… but he had no wife… so for me you were always my foster mother, even though you were not there.”
She choked back a sob—refusing to make a sound as her gray eyes filled with tears; ducking her head she pretended to be absorbed in the folder in front of her—trying to hide them from his sight. “When I left you that day… I spent the entire time I was gone thinking about your situation. If you’d still been at the office when I got back… I was  going to take you home with me Bastien.  I didn’t know if they’d let me adopt you… but I was going to try.”
“Ah fate… she is a fickle thing, no? Thank you for telling me that Madam… it warms my heart to know that you felt the same connection I did. Now, if I may have your leave… before we both give in to our emotions—I need to get settled into my room and to inform Mademoiselle Lana I have arrived.”
His teasing tone helped her swallow the lump of regretful grief  in her throat, making her smile despite her sorrow. “I forgot that Frenchmen had such a way with teasing. Go on… get out of here. Though I’ll expect you to have lunch with me tomorrow so I can hear all about your life on the farm.”
“Oh yes—that will make wonderful conversation as we eat. Mucking out pens full of shit and slaughtering chickens.” He laughed, reaching over the desk to caress her cheek. “I will see you then. For now… Adieu ma deuxième mère. If I may call you that here… when we are alone?”
She thought about the other child close to her heart; once upon a time, when the girl was five years old, she had asked something similar, her  chirpy, enchanting  little voice full of hope—and though Alberta had longed to agree…she’d been forced to say no. This time she wasn’t about to refuse. “I’d like that very much. Now scoot—I have a reputation to uphold as a hard ass.”
She watched as he walked to the door, rolling her eyes at the dramatic kiss he blew her; when the door closed behind him, she got up to lock it. Only then did she allow herself to truly break down and cry—softly sobbing over everything she had given up so she could serve the Moroi.
