Chapter 9 #3
He was, in fact, discomfited, but not for the reasons he should be. Not because his research was running in circles leading nowhere, not because of the pressure from home, not even because he missed—no, ached for—Enach.
Ashe’s words had taken the wind from him because they suggested he was unwelcome here.
Because he was acting like an entitled, ostentatious, arrogant fool.
And for some reason, he cared about that.
“She did not mean— Well, maybe she did. But she does not speak for all of us, you know.” Honey placed a tentative hand on his arm. “I mean, I have never met anyone as infuriating or as stuck-up as you—”
“Oh, thank you. That makes me feel much better,” he said quietly, and she gave a hasty laugh.
“Let me finish! You are rather rude, you know. For a scholar, you do not seem to think much before you speak, which I assumed would be part of your trade. But—” She squeezed his arm tighter.
“There is a gentleness to you. A warmth. It is not always there but…it is encouraging to see it emerge. And I see it more and more the longer you stay here. As much as I’d like to give you a good shake sometimes…
you are a welcome guest, Ainsworth Gladsly.
To me, anyway. And as I have the run of the place, that’s all that matters. ”
“Oh.” He was, for once, completely lost for words.
Gentle? Warm? Those were not words usually associated with the kind of status he wished to have.
Enach would certainly not be described as such.
But a few of his colleagues, he realized, would.
People he had once looked down on, because they revealed too clearly the parts of themselves Ainsworth had long since pushed down, fretful they would stand in the way of his success.
That they would bar him from truly belonging in the prestigious circles where he wished to reside.
Honey continued looking up at him, eager for some sort of response.
He gave himself a small shake. “I— Thank you, Honey. But instead of my thanks, you deserve my apologies. I am truly sorry for anything untoward I might have said. Anything that—” He closed his eyes.
He recalled the way Enach made others seem to scramble and scuttle at his feet, his cutting words a constant reminder of his superiority, employed like a weapon to make others feel small.
“Well, anything that hurt you. I should make amends with everyone else, too.”
“Oh, I don’t think you have many amends to make.
Ruraidh is a shy thing, and yet I think I’ve heard him speak more to you this past week than I have heard him speak the entirety of his time here.
Spin, for reasons only the Matron knows, seems very fond of you.
And do not take offense, but Bren and Quiddle do not seem to care either way. ”
“How reassuring.”
“But,” Honey continued, clearing her throat, “Alvea is a little unsettled by the way you talk about her past. And…it seems as though Ashe may have taken offense enough for all of us. You…You have a way of speaking that sometimes suggests you think you are above us. Better than us. And that is something she takes quite personally.”
He wished he could vanish on the spot. That a Transportation Circle would manifest, suddenly, and whisk him away from the source of his shame.
But what did he expect? This attitude, this persona he had adopted since he became a scholar…
it was not who his parents had been, or who they had raised him to be.
Instinctively, he reached into his pocket to hold his watch, to feel the engraving of the constellation under his thumb. “And you, Honey?” he asked softly.
“Not to worry, Ainsworth. I know for a fact that I am better than you in every possible way, so it has never bothered me.” There was just enough lightness to her voice to suggest that this wasn’t entirely true, and the guilt roiling in Ainsworth’s gut seemed to lurch even more.
“I will make amends immediately.” It mattered to him, he realized. It mattered to him that he treat people well, and treat people right. For too long, it had only mattered to him that people knew he was…well, special. Better. Smarter.
Superior.
From the moment he joined the institution, he always had to prove himself to others.
At some point, it seemed, he had started expecting the same of others—that they had to impress him, prove to him they were worthy of his time.
When had it started to consume him like this?
“Honey,” he said, ignoring the heat in his face, “thank you for speaking to me so candidly. I needed to hear that. You have helped me…wake up, I think?”
“Eh? What was that? You…thanked me?” she asked, holding her hand cupped to her ear in an exaggerated gesture.
He laughed, feeling thoroughly humbled.
“Well, since we’re in such good moods, I think there is something we should do today,” Honey added, turning to face the mountain in the distance.
“Anything you need, Honey,” he said, his eagerness less than subtle.
“Oh, it’s not something I need. While the weather is like this, I think I can help you get a proper start on your research. But what we need isn’t in the attic. It’s on Mount Vengeance.”