Fangirl

When I heard the reason for the rejection, I was stunned. I couldn't believe I'd encountered such selflessness. Martha looked anything — strong, strange, confident, crazy, impenetrable, creepy — but not caring, and yet that is what she was when it came to me. What was I wondering about? Hadn't she been helping me all these years? What were the boarded-up windows worth of. We continued to spend time in the library. We talked about all sorts of things, but not much. It was nice and peaceful with her. I could relax since I didn't have to hold my face and try to look better than I was. I realized: no matter what I said or did, I wouldn't disappoint her. I was convinced of that when the conversation turned to my failed attempt to ask her to the ball. ‘I really wanted to go with you.’ ‘You only think you did.’ She said calmly, not looking for a fight, just sharing her thoughts. ‘May I ask where these conclusions came from?’ ‘Elementary. First, we don't say hello to each other in the class. Second, you invited me in the small room of the library that is always empty. Where you asked me to with a note you passed discreetly. Third.’ I felt seedy. I really looked like a pathetic coward. Why should I take offense? Rather, I did not understand another thing: how, seeing all my worthlessness, she still looked at me with this obsession. Was there something special about me worthy of such attention? Okay, it's just not going to be easy. I'd have to try harder if I wanted it my way. The academy was howling with the anticipation of the winter ball in such a way that my head was starting to buzz. I kept dodging the most persistent girls, and three days before the new year everyone finally gave in. ‘Phillip, stop playing silent and tell me who you're going with?’ Maxim demanded at dinner, threatening me with his fork. ‘Leave him alone, he won't tell.’ Kirill waved his hand. ‘I've tortured him more than once, to no avail. He prefers keeping water in his mouth rather than share with friends.’ I smiled and still kept silent. When my friends, dressed to the hilt, were leaving the quaters, I pretended to dress for the evening. Said I'd come later and we'd meet there. As soon as the last of them left, I dressed casually and ducked out the door. Martha clearly wasn't expecting to see me, but as I'd hoped, she didn't ask me away. There was no social suicide involved — everyone was at the ball and we could count on a couple of quiet hours. As I crossed the threshold of her room, I felt signs of paralysis. At first glance, I found myself in the witch's lair. Small, cozy, black, filled with dried and crushed corpses. I took a closer look and exhaled. It looked scary, but clearly had no connection to real danger. A lot of this stuff my older sister used to frighten me with when I was a kid. And I long ago figured out what only looked scary, but was actually garbage, and what was worth a closer look. Oddly enough, there was one really interesting item in Martha's room — a book she was reading. I noticed signs of confusion, but I put it down to the fact that she might be uncomfortable being alone with a guy. The guy was me, though, so I thought she'd get over it. I offered to leave — I didn't want to embarrass or upset her at all. But when she picked up the book and I caught a glimpse of what was written on the cover, I realized that she wasn't sure if she should show it to me. Perhaps she thought I wouldn't pay much attention to the folio — who knows what firebenders read, and as nonchalantly as Martha only could she opened the book; or maybe she thought it would only cause unnecessary attention if she tried to hide it. Shoving the thought of the book aside, I tried to delve into my own reading. The evening had to go the way I planned, I would think about the rest later. ‘How are you going to spend your vacation?’ I asked, feeling the time was running out. ‘I'll stay here and study.’ ‘How far do you live?’ ‘Almost three weeks away.’ ‘Wow, that's a long distance.’ ‘I won't even have time to get home for the vacations.’ There was a week for the winter break. A student had the right to spend their free time as they saw fit: may stay at the castle or go home. ‘What will you do? Are you going back to the capital?’ ‘Yes. Father insists that the whole family spend time together at least twice a year. In the winter, we gather at the family mansion.’ Well, you probably know that already. I thought. ‘And in the summer?’ ‘Everyone spends the summer wherever they want, but for another week we all have to visit our country estate. Father is strict.’ ‘So is mine.’ Martha nodded understandingly. ‘Hardly stricter than mine.’ ‘Believe me, it may well happen.’ ‘Is it that serious?’ ‘Even worse.’ Martha rounded her eyes, but then smiled. ‘I understand him. My mom died in childbirth, and he raised me on his own. I guess it wasn't easy for such a tough man to raise a girl. I know he loves me very much, so I'll forgive him anything.’ ‘That sounds scary.’ ‘It's nothing.’ Martha hurried to add. ‘It's just that I was raised more like a boy. No noble girls have ever been around our backwater, so it wouldn’t have worked out to stick to the gentle image of a role model, as you may guess. Father says he was bringing me up the way he was because he doesn't know any other.’ ‘What about governesses?’ ‘My father would never trust me to a stranger.’ ‘Exactly like mine.’ I snapped back. ‘At least as far as my sister was concerned. I, the youngest son, was more my mother's concern.’ ‘The heir to lineage is your sister?’ I nodded. ‘Worried about that?’ Martha's question was reasonable. Girls became heirs of the family under two conditions: birthright — the girl had to be the firstborn and have an impressive magical potential among the children. In other cases, a boy claimed the inheritance. ‘Not at all.’ It was true. ‘More like glad. My sister got all the responsibility. Compared to her, I can do whatever I want.’ ‘Really?’ I frowned — sometimes Martha turned into a meticulous nit-picker. ‘I'm exaggerating, of course, but I'm not being asked as much as she is. I'm glad of that already. What about you?’ I hastened to turn the conversation to safer ground. ‘Me?’ ‘How many of you are in the family?’ I knew very little about Martha, and I wanted to know more. ‘Alas, I was the first and only child in the family. My father never remarried.’ ‘I couldn't help but think of him with respect.’ I said honestly, and Martha nodded. The thing was, it was risky to leave only one heir when accidents were commonplace, and a daughter who could always give in to her heart and leave the family taking her husband's name. Then the whole family could simply fall into oblivion. Usually heads of families remarried after the death of their spouse, if only to have more heirs. The way Martha's father did it showed an extreme degree of devotion to his late wife. Stepdaughters almost always were treated poorly under stepmothers, and certainly a boy could have been born, and a stronger one to take the lineage. However, I already had some doubts about how strong Martha was. However, I asked a different question. ‘So your father will only give you to someone who agrees to join your clan?’ Martha nodded again. A man, like a woman, could go into another family, but in practice it was relatively rare. In such cases, there had to be a genuine interest in the girl's clan and the guy didn't have to be the heir to his own one. Moreover, there was an unspoken disdain for a man who agreed to transition. ‘Can I ask a more personal thing?’ ‘Of course.’ ‘Have you already been engaged?’ It was a legitimate question, a practice that had widely been used by noble families for centuries. ‘There are two families in our area who would be willing to join our family...’ ‘Two families?’ I was genuinely surprised. I couldn't remember the details of Martha's origin. I only knew that she, like almost everyone here, was noble, but since she was not respected, and no one had heard of her family's high position, I had considered her family to be less powerful and therefore unimportant. However, the fact that two families were willing to provide a groom at once changed the picture  and made it necessary to inquire further into her family history. Martha nodded and continued: ‘When I return from the academy, I will be able to make my choice. My father made such a decision and informed the neighbors, not wanting to spoil relations with anyone. Although he is very strict, even cruel at times, he is not an autocrat and loves me.’ I pondered. ‘Have you decided who you're going to choose?’ I was glad that the candles didn't give off much light, and in the honeyed flame that spread around me it was harder to see the traces of embarrassment on my face. ‘I don't care who it is going to be.’ Martha shrugged. We were silent; to continue talking was to step on thin ice. I'd already ruined it once with my quick invitation to the ball, and I wasn't going to do it again. There was plenty of time till graduation.