The last thing Gregory remembered before everything went dark was the sound of a shrill scream piercing the December air.
* * *
An observatory. That was his reason for travelling to Cambridgeshire today—not even a new observatory, but dramatic improvements to an existing one. It was frivolous, Gregory thought as he made his way to the Adebayo estate, but in a charming, erudite way: something intellectual, rather than a herd of zebras or curtains made of pixie wings intended solely to show off to others. Perhaps he mith have one of his own, some day, if his fortunes—both metaphorical and literal—ever improved enough to actually build the house he insisted to his mother and siblings was presently under construction.
It was a victimless lie, one designed to help the wizard maintain his pride and dignity after his concience had gotten the better of him, prompting him to abandon his dishonest pursuit-for-pay of Miss Oakby. It was also a lie that was getting progressively more difficult to keep the longer he remained under the same roof as his family. For this reason, the architect had hurled himself with rather more fervour into his work, even seeking out projects—such as the botanical gardens in Padmore Park—to bring in to the firm in the hope of clout, a promotion and, consequently, money.
This was why he was "here", broadly, in Cambridgeshire. But why, Gregory wondered was he here, more specifically? And where was "here"?
"Where... what..." he did not quite have a grasp on the reins of his line of questioning, but both of these seemed like a sound place to start. He had a headache. That much the wizard knew for certain. Not the dull throb of a very-much-earned morning after, but something sharper.
An observatory. That was his reason for travelling to Cambridgeshire today—not even a new observatory, but dramatic improvements to an existing one. It was frivolous, Gregory thought as he made his way to the Adebayo estate, but in a charming, erudite way: something intellectual, rather than a herd of zebras or curtains made of pixie wings intended solely to show off to others. Perhaps he mith have one of his own, some day, if his fortunes—both metaphorical and literal—ever improved enough to actually build the house he insisted to his mother and siblings was presently under construction.
It was a victimless lie, one designed to help the wizard maintain his pride and dignity after his concience had gotten the better of him, prompting him to abandon his dishonest pursuit-for-pay of Miss Oakby. It was also a lie that was getting progressively more difficult to keep the longer he remained under the same roof as his family. For this reason, the architect had hurled himself with rather more fervour into his work, even seeking out projects—such as the botanical gardens in Padmore Park—to bring in to the firm in the hope of clout, a promotion and, consequently, money.
This was why he was "here", broadly, in Cambridgeshire. But why, Gregory wondered was he here, more specifically? And where was "here"?
"Where... what..." he did not quite have a grasp on the reins of his line of questioning, but both of these seemed like a sound place to start. He had a headache. That much the wizard knew for certain. Not the dull throb of a very-much-earned morning after, but something sharper.
— set by lady —