Consul Amadeus

January 14th, 1941

WARNING: Eating disorders are mentioned in this chapter

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Consul Amadeus's Office

Up ahead behind closed doors, Ines silently stood at the foot of Consul Amadeus's desk. Her eyes were unfocused, and she anxiously fiddled with the hems of her skirt.

"Excuse me…-"

"Ines." With a sigh and a slow head shake, Consul Amadeus put down the yellowed and oil-stained papers she held in her hands.

"You came to find me for something as simple as this?" The Consul asked, her brows were knit in frustration.

"…"

The young girl watched as the older woman disappointedly flicked through the thick stack of papers once more; she then looked at the elegant-faced Consul and then her ever darkening expression of disappointment.

"…Am I not allowed to?" Ines softly inquired.

Though, seeing the Consul's frown only deepen at her question, Ines tasted the sequence of possible words on her tongue that she could say to get out of her current predicament. Finally, she said, "Consul Ama-"

"Preceptor," Consul Amadeus interrupted. She removed her monocle and set it down on her desk. "I am your tutor, and you are my student—you are not one of my subjects, so refrain from calling me by my formal title, Consul."

"…Yes, I understand." Perhaps it was because of Ines' young age, or perhaps it was the frown on her face, but Consul- no, Preceptor Amadeus's tone softened.

"The first day your tutelage began, I instructed you to refer to me by 'Preceptor' Amadeus, or just Preceptor—have you already forgotten, Ines?"

Ines averted her eyes, "No, Preceptor Amadeus."

"Good," The Preceptor flatly said.

Silence resumed, and Preceptor Amadeus continued marking Ines' paper whilst the young girl remained where she stood.

Though she remained statue-still, Ines' eyes wandered around the Preceptor's newly renovated office as if she had never taken a good look at her surroundings before.

It was relatively empty of decoration, and there were barely any colors.

There was a single arched transom-window to the left side of the room, however it was heavily covered up with several layers of curtains.

There were no ornate decorations, and the only source of light was a single antique oil-lamp by the Preceptor's desk.

As plain as the furniture appeared, Ines narrowed her eyes, everything appeared to be made from high quality materials. Though plain, everything looked far more expensive and exquisite than the ornate châteaus of upper class nobles.

Behind the Preceptor, there was a silver-lined incense burner with designs that looked to be from the East.

'Ah, so that's where the flowery scent came from.'

Perhaps, even a single leg from the chair the Preceptor was sitting on was worth the residence of a middle-class family—she could buy months worth of food with just a single item from this room.

Ines swallowed her saliva at the thought of food, and she awkwardly cleared her throat to hide the sound of her rumbling stomach.

'…I'll eat dinner tomorrow after I finish all my assignments,' Ines reassured herself, soothing her hunger.

She hadn't eaten in a while, but that's alright, the sleepless nights and the warm water from the dining hall keeps the hunger at bat.

If she ate more than this, she would gain weight and become unsightly as the adults have said, and sometimes she would vomit after consuming more than usual.

But today, she felt ill and terribly nauseous.

"A silver coin for your thoughts, Ines?" Preceptor Amadeus said, her lips upturned. She set down her pen and slid the stack of papers towards Ines.

"…?" Ines looked away, and she cocked her head sideways. "A silver coin? For my thoughts?"

The Preceptor chuckled at this. "It was a phrase, a saying."

"Ah."

Regardless of Ines' reaction, Preceptor Amadeus continued speaking. "This… You did not understand this text?"

Ines shook her head, "No."

"No?" The older woman parroted.

"…No," She affirmed. Ines watched as Preceptor Amadeus shook her head, the bare and unhidden disappointment reflecting in her eyes.

Anxiety slowly submerged itself in her guts and innards. Her disappointment nailed itself to her heart like pins and needles.

"How intriguing." The Preceptor leaned in closer, her chin rested on her palm. "You understood this perfectly without any assistance three days ago. During the assessment where your intelligence and prospective talents were gauged, you scored a hundred times better than your peers."

Then, Preceptor Amadeus held up Ines' assessment results and her assignment side to side.

"You finished the exam within exactly twenty eight minutes when you were given eight hours. Miraculously, of the randomized 362 questions on the exam, you got all but two correct."

"I wasn't cheating, I just-" Ines rambled, she fumbled for an excuse however she couldn't find the words to do so.

Her heart felt a pitless abyss, and the Preceptor's words were like tiny pebbles digging into her consciousness.

"I know you weren't cheating on the assessment. That Diadochi—Lord Adamos, his gaze is impossible to hide from," Preceptor Amadeus said, her voice gradually rising. "So tell me, how exactly did you answer the questions on the exam when you can barely write the scripture of this land?"

"…"

Ines knew that the older woman had not said that with malicious intentions in mind, but rather curiosity of the unknown. If she were the Preceptor, she too, would be mystified as the current situation was uncanny.

But, despite the evident worry and confusion on Preceptor's Amadeus's face, her spindly, gloved hands that reached for her own—the ground beneath her seemed to crumble.

Her stomach rumbled again, however this time she could feel something rising in her throat.

"Ines?" Preceptor Amadeus asked. Her voice was much gentler than before, and she looked alarmed and perturbed.

At this, Ines reached for her own face and covered her mouth.

She swallowed back her words and the harrowing coughs that threatened to spill out, and she could faintly taste bile at the back of the throat.

Why is the Preceptor so fuzzy? She blankly thought, gazing at the older woman who rushed up from her seat to her side.

"—t's wrong?"

'Was she saying something? But, I can't hear anything.'

The terrible ringing in her ears soon became buzzing noises, and it drowned her thoughts.

It echoed like the mosquitoes that ate her alive in the dreaded days of summer, like the sparks of charcoal above a burning fire that branded her flesh.

Saliva pooled in her mouth, and the world around her appeared to spin and tumble. The situation felt so distant yet so familiar, like a horrible memory that happened only yesterday.

'Why is the world spinning?' She wondered, her knees buckling.

At once, Preceptor Amadeus ran to her side and she caught the younger girl.

When her hands latched onto Ines' cloth covered arms, her calm composure shattered and her expression became one of horror.

She was far thinner than the first time they had met, and her complexion was horrible. Ines was gaunt as a skeleton, and her skin was cold to the touch.

'Has she eaten at all these past few days? At this rate, she'll die from malnutrition and starvation.'

"Ines!" The Preceptor said again, slightly shaking the younger girl in an attempt to snap her out of her trance.

For a moment, it appeared to have worked.

Ines stopped shaking, she slowly blinked and blearily stared at the white ceiling.

"Preceptor Amadeus?" Ines questioned. Her words were somewhat incoherent as if she weren't fully present.

A split second later before the older woman could say anything, she apologized and attempted to get up from the older woman's arms.

"Ines-!"

Though, her legs gave out before she could even take a single step.

"Sorry," Ines apologized again, her words slurred.

The Preceptor quickly strode to her side, picked her up and then set her down on a guest seat. "For what?" She asked.

"I don't know," Ines replied. She picked at the skin on her hands, and went silent.

The older woman sighed then handed her a satin box from her desk, "Eat."

"What?"

"Cookies. Don't you like sweets? These are from the best bakery in the Capital, try some."

Her hands shook at the weight of the box, "I'm not hungry."

"Then take it with you, eat it when you are hungry," Preceptor Amadeus refuted.

"…"

At last, Ines lifted her head. "…Thank you," She mumbled.

The older woman smiled at this. "No problem. If you're feeling fatigued, you can head back for today. I'll extend the due date and we can discuss this another day, does that sound—"

"…You don't have to," Ines interrupted. She met the Preceptor's eyes and then she said, "Your question from before—she's me, but I'm not her."