The moment of her departing his rooms was approaching. When she stood and found herself light-headed, Samuel rose likewise and drew closer. "I would never leave you to climb that tower alone and unaided," he replied, "out of principle, but especially considering that I am not innocent in causing your present state of exhaustion. Besides, my companion may be a bit too diminutive to be of much help to you."
Feeling that he had been given permission, he carefully took hold of her arms and shoulder until they had arranged themselves in a way that would allow her to walk supported at his side. That was not so difficult, he found out, because Themis Lyra's considerable height made it unnecessary for him to bend and slouch, but the straight narrowness that she had about her made it easy to keep her in balance.
And so they made their way quite comfortably out of the classroom, down the corridors and then up the winding staircase that led to the astronomy tower. He was taking his time. There was no need to rush. Between them, there was an exhausted but content quiet. Sometimes, the light of the setting sun fell on them through a window; sometimes they walked in the twilight between the stone walls.
It was only when he had seen to it that she was settling safely in her room that they talked again. Headed to the exit, he said: "I am planning a get-together just before the term starts. Here, in the castle. It would honor me to see you in attendance. Expect a more formal invitation soon." Then he wished her a restful evening and left.
Back in his rooms, he slowly continued the work of getting everything set up and finished. He was lost in thought; he was considering the time that stretched ahead of him. In the castle, he would not stay much longer. On the morrow he was to go to London; his laboratory needed to be disbanded. And after that, which would surely take up two weeks of his time, he would be without his place of work and residence and without a reason to return to the empty school grounds. Since he felt disinclined to spend this time around his family, he would, for about two weeks, be wholly untethered.
Samuel had expected to find this prospect freeing, but inexplicably he now felt that it would be unbearable.
As he knew himself, he mused, and he had come to know himself, though never as completely as he once thought, he would find distraction and diversion from this state of mind. He could visit some friends. And perhaps he would rely on the numerous bad habits he had picked up over the course of his life; like going to Paris and staying out too long and entertaining himself with inconsequential people; and finding the mornings turned to ashes in his mouth. He would then feel terribly vindicated and wretched at once.
Feeling quite certain that it would come to pass like that, and that he was in a way at peace with it and not, he stood at the window and smoked.
The astronomy tower loomed in his field of view. It eclipsed the sun, which at this moment was just about to fall below the horizon, and ushered in an early night for everything in its shadow.
He regarded it for some time before he drew the blinds closed and settled in for the night.
Feeling that he had been given permission, he carefully took hold of her arms and shoulder until they had arranged themselves in a way that would allow her to walk supported at his side. That was not so difficult, he found out, because Themis Lyra's considerable height made it unnecessary for him to bend and slouch, but the straight narrowness that she had about her made it easy to keep her in balance.
And so they made their way quite comfortably out of the classroom, down the corridors and then up the winding staircase that led to the astronomy tower. He was taking his time. There was no need to rush. Between them, there was an exhausted but content quiet. Sometimes, the light of the setting sun fell on them through a window; sometimes they walked in the twilight between the stone walls.
It was only when he had seen to it that she was settling safely in her room that they talked again. Headed to the exit, he said: "I am planning a get-together just before the term starts. Here, in the castle. It would honor me to see you in attendance. Expect a more formal invitation soon." Then he wished her a restful evening and left.
Back in his rooms, he slowly continued the work of getting everything set up and finished. He was lost in thought; he was considering the time that stretched ahead of him. In the castle, he would not stay much longer. On the morrow he was to go to London; his laboratory needed to be disbanded. And after that, which would surely take up two weeks of his time, he would be without his place of work and residence and without a reason to return to the empty school grounds. Since he felt disinclined to spend this time around his family, he would, for about two weeks, be wholly untethered.
Samuel had expected to find this prospect freeing, but inexplicably he now felt that it would be unbearable.
As he knew himself, he mused, and he had come to know himself, though never as completely as he once thought, he would find distraction and diversion from this state of mind. He could visit some friends. And perhaps he would rely on the numerous bad habits he had picked up over the course of his life; like going to Paris and staying out too long and entertaining himself with inconsequential people; and finding the mornings turned to ashes in his mouth. He would then feel terribly vindicated and wretched at once.
Feeling quite certain that it would come to pass like that, and that he was in a way at peace with it and not, he stood at the window and smoked.
The astronomy tower loomed in his field of view. It eclipsed the sun, which at this moment was just about to fall below the horizon, and ushered in an early night for everything in its shadow.
He regarded it for some time before he drew the blinds closed and settled in for the night.
----- completed -----
Themis Lyra
Themis Lyra