Waiting for Classes [12 Chirreb 4260]
Classes begin tomorrow, and Havune and Thery assure me that that I won't have the seventh part of a second to spare to myself once they begin. I have chosen Ancient Ketherian History, the Study of Differences, Elementary Theory of Tempador Magic, and Current Politics of Aradrueia, and, for the gymnastic requirement, Flirtatious Dancing.
(Why Aradrueian politics, you may well ask, for, if you had been reading this journal since some years before I started it, you would never have heard me mention Aradrueia before? I was
going to take Choinxeian Politics, but Thery warned me -- and more seriously than that warning about spare time -- that Professor Thistro of Choinxeian Politics was a pompous monstrosity who reveled in reciting a hundred kings a minute, and Professor Urastra of Aradrueian was actually worth listening to. Therefore I shall wait for another three months on the Choinxeian Politics.)
As my first assignment, though not at school, I suppose in preparation for my proper reciept of my allowance, Hezimikkinen had me summoned up to the Owl Garden at the ducal palace, where I was to pose 'til the sun was nearly full of flame while a tall corsetted Rassimel woman sketched me with colored charcoal. She is Lady Melicanthe ky Hybrasil
, and the Duke of Vheshrame is her patron. I am not at all certain why the Duke wants a portrait of me... perhaps he is running out of other subjects for her to paint? The one she was working on when I got there (I saw the sketches and a half-finished painting) was of a Cani healer of no great distinction, armed with a spear. Perhaps there is some subtle artistic aesthetic going on here; Lady Melicanthe has done many portraits of more or less ordinary people of late. Or perhaps the Duke is planning ahead.
After staying still for so long, I went flying, then hunting. In Vheshrame, pigeons are plentiful, and, fortunately, not fireproof. I brought a brace of them home, flapping slowly after me from a Ruloc Corpador improvisation. It's dignified for hunters to carry their catch that way, but not for shoppers to carry *theirs*. Etiquette is a twisty subject, of which I shall complain further on future days and centuries. Current Mood: predatory