You want me to do what now?
Who: Essdara, Sefton
When: I failed at +time again
Where: Sefton's office
Comment: Always fun to RP with Sefton, I never know what Dara is going to do.
Another evening, and more work for the Headmaster, it would seem. Or perhaps not -- Sefton seems to be taking his ease. Chair tilted back, boots up on his desk, he's got one of his valuable books resting on the palms of his hands. Valuable or not, it doesn't seem to be drawing much respect. His brows are drawn together in the beginnings of a frown.
Essdara knocks lightly at the door before poking her head in, with a nervous smile. "Headmaster? I've some dinner here, if you are hungry?" She steps into the room enough for the tray to be seen; the food looks decidedly richer than last visit. "And if you'd care for company, as you mentioned, I'm done my own duties for the day?"
Sefton looks up from the book, craning his neck to inspect first tray, and then -- slowly -- the young woman carrying it. "Essdara, you're looking well." With a lazy grin he snaps the book shut, leaning forward to set it down on the desk. "Come and relieve me of the task of wading through this thing, by all means. Have you done your homework?" There's a tease in that drawl.
Essdara carries the tray over to the headmaster's desk, and sets it down carefully. "Homework is for students, and as I am not one, I have none to do. So, instead, I brought treats." She motions to various things, "The wherry legs are glazed in a light syrup, with some garlic and shallots, and baked. Very tasty. The meatrolls are a touch spicy, but are quite good if you like spicy things. The greens were pan-fried over the fire, mixed with garlic again and some nut slivers, and a touch of pepper." She looks up. "I opted not to bring any juice or anythign, since you seem to have your own preferences in drinks."
Sefton inspects her work with interest, making an appreciative noise as he rises to his feet. "Essdara, you should bring me something to eat more often, if this is what you can promise. Are you sure I can't tempt you to try one of my drinks in return? I can water it for you, if you like." Barely a wince of distaste at the prospect of doing so. As he speaks, he's sorting through the bottles, reaching back for a wineskin that's settled behind them. "I disagree, however. I distinctly recall setting you homework."
Essdara shakes her head slowly, "I enjoyed what I sampled last visit, but I must confess to not caring much for such libations. Makes the mind fuzzy and makes it too hard to control one's actions." She pauses a moment after that, thinking hard on possible homework, before shaking her head. "I'm afraid, Sir, that I can't seem to recall any such thing. But I admit, my memory is not perfect."
"Wine, then?" It's what the Headmaster is drinking, apparently, for he cracks the seal on the skin, reaching over to set a pair of glasses down on the table. "The meal deserves it." Sinking into his chair for a moment, he regards her in silence, studying her face through the hair that's tumbling down into his eyes. "You are looking well. What prompts the change, will you tell me?"
Essdara nods a little. "If you like. Change?" She looks down a bit, and almost seems to be noticing the new clothing for herself for the first time. She looks back up. "No particular reason, just decided it was time to... Grow up a little, I guess. Show at least a little care for how I look to others."
"Time to grow up, and time to care about the way others perceive you. The two are not necessarily linked, Essdara." Sefton pours drinks, pushing her glass towards her, and then leaning forward to inspect the food on offer. "Indeed, often they are not. What prompted these new concerns?"
Essdara takes the offered glass, and a polite tasting sip from it. "Pleasant." She opines. She shifts her position a little with a soft shrug. "Does everything have to have a cause? It was just the right time for me. I needed a change, and it seemed a good place to start."
"I'm glad you think so," Sefton murmurs, his own glass at his lips. The seal on the skin reveals a vintage generally described with more glowing adjectives -- but only by those educated in such things. "Absolutely everything has a cause, Essdara, never doubt it. You needed a change, that is your cause. But what caused the need for the change?" It's a tone of voice straight from his classroom -- quiet, faintly amused, persistent.
Essdara gives the headmaster a long look, warily appraising, before responding with a light smirk. "If you must know, I felt the need for change after being rather solidly rejected by someone I made the mistake of falling in love with." She takes another drink from the wine, badly using it to hide discomfort. "I should have known better in the first place."
Sefton laughs, reaching up to rake his hair back from his face. "And that is what I call a reason. There's one behind everything we do, everything. I am sorry, though. I cannot imagine it is a pleasant experience." Indeed, there's a modicum of sympathy in his tone as he reaches forward, lifting his plate from the tray carefully.
Essdara frowns as the headmaster laughs, though it fades with his slightly more gentle following. "It was not, but that's the way the world works, and there's no use dwelling on it. It's better to move on and at least keep her friendship, than it would be to try to force something, or just back away entirely. So, I focus on me."
"As it happens, I agree entirely, Essdara. Sometimes it is best to simply tke what one can from the situation, accepting that it cannot be more, and avoiding making it less." A mouthful of meatroll is washed down with some of the wine, and a nod signals his approval. "This is your cooking, I take it?"
Essdara smiles and nods, keeping with a much more pleasant topic. "It is. I promised last time I would provide you something more befitting than the normal fare we serve. I hope it meets with your approval, they are some of my favourite dishes. Especially the meatrolls, but I do love things with a bit of bite."
"It does meet with my approval," Sefton allows -- the rate at which he's making inroads of the food attests to this. "We eat differently in Boll. I've found the food here a little..." A diplomatic pause, before diplomacy is discarded. "Bland. But while we eat, we must return to your homework. The difference, Essdara, between an action that is foolish, and one which is frivolous."
"Don't we all?" The girls commends, dryly. Essdara thinks a moment about her answer to the homework. "I do recall you asking that. It seems to me that something that is frivolous is one that does not serve to fill a significant need, while something that is foolish is something that is not fully thought through? You can have the most noble, important goal ever, but if the implemetation fails, then you haven't done any good. And just because you have a plan or a goal that is done perfectly, doesn't mean it was a goal worthy of the effort."
"You make an excellent point," Sefton allows, pausing for another mouthful. "I am not sure your definition stands up, though. Furnish me with examples, please." A head appears around the door, and is dismissed with a wave of his hand. "And please remind me later that I have something to ask you."
Essdara says, "Remind you? I thought we already established my memory as faulty." She grins a bit, and ponder. "Hmm. Foolish." An impish grin. "Starting up a school to promote unity and cooperation while not having enough controls in place to keep out the undesirables, the lazy, and those interested more in finding love than knowledge. Frivolity, that's harder, because of the implication that frivolity is bad. But I guess it could be said my method of cooking is frivolous, because it is more than is strictly needed to nourish the weyr. While mine may be better in flavor, it is harder on resources. It takes longer to prepare, and more ingredients, and more skill, compared to the so-called bland offerings.""
Sefton laughs long and loud, not bothering to hide his amusement at her words. "You have grown a little more daring since first we met," he tells her, dark eyes still gleaming as he quiets enough to respond. "I will pursue an argument this evening about the reasons for founding the Caucus. That would take a meal with many more courses. For now, I will allow your reasoning. Am I to take it that you would choose frivolity, were the choice yours?"
Essdara blushes a bit at the comment, and shrugs. "You seem to enjoy people with a bit of bite, the way I enjoy food. So I do my best to offer it. As for the choice, I am not sure it is a valid choice to make. They are not directly related. You can have them both, or you can have neither. You can have foolish frivolity, say spending the marks that are supposed to buy medicine on pies. You can have wise.. Well, wise whatever the opposite of frivolity is, such as actually /buying/ said medicine. But if I had to choose which trait would be attribute to me - And both are, frequently - I would choose frivolity."
"This, Essdara," Sefton informs her lazily, "is a significant improvement on our first conversation. I am agog at the thought that you might continue to improve at such a rate. You would leave my students in the shade, you know." The man from Boll doesn't look agog -- rather, he looks as he usually does; lazy, self-assured, faintly amused. "You remind me that I have something to ask you. I should like you to come to one of the classes I teach, one day in the future. If you can overcome your concerns regarding my students enough to put up with a concentration of them. Just the one time."
Essdara says, "They are not all bad." She reminds. "Just some. Sadly, one bad egg taints the lot, so to speak." She looks curious. "Why would you want me to do that? I admit, with some of the stories I have heard, to being curious about the reality. I had someone the other day get almost upset with me for refusing to consider you like some trap waiting to spring."
"Why? Because some of my students are complacent," Sefton observes. Finally he's slowing in his eating, but he's still picking away, unwilling to concede that the meal is finished. "It will do many of them good to find themselves matched, and in some cases out-matched by -- forgive me -- a girl from the kitchens." There's little apology in his tone for what he's pointing out, but a courtesy that's not always accorded to staff. "Do you think I'm a trap waiting to spring, then?" A broad grin for that prospect.
Essdara tilts her head a bit. "I don't think you are in the way she meant, no. I think you are a very clever and very," She pauses a moment, then shrugs. "A very arrogant person. I think you enjoy making people thing, and with that, making people squirm. But I don't think you do it needlessly, or hurtfully." A flash of something. "Though I will admit, what I heard of your treatment of Penny did not impress me. But I think you should no more be ashamed to be clever and manipulative than I should be to be a cook. I am right for my job, and I enjoy it. I think you are much the same, with your job."
Sefton inclines his head slightly in acknowledgement of her description, and proffers no disagreement. "Very bold tonight, Essdara. You have altered more than what you wear. I do enjoy making people think. If they squirm as a result, that is because they are unused to the mental exercise, and the blame for that is not mine." He toys with his fork for a moment, reflective, and then lifts that thoughtful gaze to her. "I am sorry you think less of me for distressing Penny -- I take it that is what you mean. In that case I did not, to use your phrase, act needlessly."
Essdara smirks a bit, taking another long drink of the wine. "I.. Have not changed as much as you think. Rather, I am more myself this visit than last, when my hurt was fresher and unresolved. And," Her voice adopts a mild teasing tone, "I never said I thought less of you, or that it was unneeded. Simply that it didn't impress me. But impressing me was, surely, not even in your mind in the least. And given Penny's avoidance of those she called friend since then, I would say your words had the effect you desired."
"I must be honest, your good opinion was not the foremost of my priorities." A gentle hint of mocking in Sefton's tone suggests that perhaps this remains the case at the present moment. "I shall have to take what I can get of your good opinion, and hope to earn more of it in the future." The laughter ill-hidden in his eyes does not speak of a man holding his breath against such an eventuality.
Nor does Essdara look like she believes it is. "So, to get back to the point. Complacancy. Do you really think my showing up would do anything to change that, or is it more likely to breed resentment and get me visited in a dark corridore late at night?"
Faint surprise mars Sefton's expression for a moment, and he regards her over the rim of his wineglass. "Do you seriously think any of the students would stoop to such a thing? That I would take serious disciplinary action goes without saying."
Essdara grins a little. "Do you really think there is noone in the Caucus who would not? I know one, at least, who I feel would need precious little incentive to waylay me as it is. No, I am nothing if not cautious. But I am also nothing if not curious, and so I will comply, and come sit in one of your classes."
"Tell me the name of this one, then." It's an order, although it's delivered as lazily as everything else. "You do not seem so aggravating to me that I find myself contemplating violence." Sefton has set aside the question of her attending class for a moment, it would seem.
Essdara shakes her head, "I don't think there is any danger of that. I avoid him, he avoids me, we are happy, honestly." A slight chuckles. "Even I am not above the odd bit of exaggeration."
"Very well." That Sefton is not entirely satisfied is clear -- dark eyes rest on her thoughtfully for several moments before he continues. "In that case, I must tell you that simply coming to sit in one of my classes will not suffice. You will need to participate, and as cheekily as you do when I ask you questions here."
Essdara is quiet a moment at that. "I can try." She says, finally. "There are some I would... Not usually show this disrespect to. I do not relish making them think less of me. But I think I see what you want, and... Well, I will do my best to do so."
"Wait a moment, now," Sefton protests, once more vastly amused. "This is disrespect you're showing? Please don't say it, Essdara. I shall find myself obliged to take action, and I would rather you continued on your current course."
Essdara can't help but laugh. "I don't know what it is, Headmaster. You bring out an interesting side of me that I enjoy exploring. Perhaps not disrepectful so much as... Irreverant, maybe?"
"Equally distressing," Sefton informs her, injecting mock-seriousness into his tone. "Certainly not the proper attitude, I should think. I manage to frighten plenty of people. I have failed comprehensively in that respect when it comes to you, it would seem." Leaning forward, he picks at the last of the meal with his fork, sorting through it for the remaining morsels.
Essdara shrugs a bit, "I have enough things to fear in the world without fearing people that have, honestly, very little direct impact on it. Why should I fear you? You are clearly not the type to be needlessly spiteful or malicious, and even if I offended you, I don't think your reaction would be so severe as to inspire fear." A quiet moment. "But I have seen for myself that some people DO seem to fear you, and that intruiges me, a lot."
"Clearly not," Sefton agrees, not the faintest hint of irony entering his voice. "You are far more entertaining when you are not terrified. I am sure you will never provide me with a reason to test out th extent of my reach." Head tilted to one side, he finishes off his wine as he regards her. "Why do you think those people fear me?"
Essdara looks at the dregs of her own glass while she considers that, then shakes her head. "I don't know, honestly. That's what has me confused. People I like and respect, seem very wary of you." A shrug. "But, as you said, I'm just a kitchen girl. Quite possibly, I'm simply not important enough to /need/ to fear you. I don't know. But I make my own decisions about people, and I've no reason to doubt what I think about you."
"And you have told me what you think about me, so I cannot complain." Sefton sets down his empty glass, leaning back in his chair. "Who is it that is so very wary of me, yet unable to convince you to be the same? Are those names secret too?" He's amused at something -- her confidence in him, perhaps. "Shall I play a game, and show you how to be frightened of me?" It's proffered as a joke, his gaze already shifting from her to the book he set aside upon her arrival.
Essdara smiles sweetly, "I see you understand me already when it comes to naming who says what. People are wary of you, and I will respect that enough to not risk causing them discomfort." She tilts her head a bit, "A game? And risk scaring me away from your class? I'm not sure you would risk it."
"You are quite right, of course. It will be far more entertaining to watch you embarass my students than to watch you scramble with the rest of them." Sefton speaks like a man who's thinking out loud, and confirms the decision with a nod. "As you are so good at keeping secrets, I will ask you to keep this conversation just as quiet. The effect will be rather diminished if they have warning." Easing forward in his chair, he lifts his plate to set it on the tray. "And now you must forgive me for taking up so much of your time. I am afraid my work calls once more."
Essdara chuckles and reaches for the tray, and making for the door. "Just let me know when, Headmaster. I'll keep it a secret, of course. I like a surprise as much as the next girl. It's been interesting, certainly, and I wish you a good evening."
"Good evening, Essdara." As she rises to leave, he comes politely to his feet -- a subtle alteration, but the first time she's been accorded the manners that offered automatically to the ranking girls of the Caucus. "I will look forward to our next discussion."."
When: I failed at +time again
Where: Sefton's office
Comment: Always fun to RP with Sefton, I never know what Dara is going to do.
Another evening, and more work for the Headmaster, it would seem. Or perhaps not -- Sefton seems to be taking his ease. Chair tilted back, boots up on his desk, he's got one of his valuable books resting on the palms of his hands. Valuable or not, it doesn't seem to be drawing much respect. His brows are drawn together in the beginnings of a frown.
Essdara knocks lightly at the door before poking her head in, with a nervous smile. "Headmaster? I've some dinner here, if you are hungry?" She steps into the room enough for the tray to be seen; the food looks decidedly richer than last visit. "And if you'd care for company, as you mentioned, I'm done my own duties for the day?"
Sefton looks up from the book, craning his neck to inspect first tray, and then -- slowly -- the young woman carrying it. "Essdara, you're looking well." With a lazy grin he snaps the book shut, leaning forward to set it down on the desk. "Come and relieve me of the task of wading through this thing, by all means. Have you done your homework?" There's a tease in that drawl.
Essdara carries the tray over to the headmaster's desk, and sets it down carefully. "Homework is for students, and as I am not one, I have none to do. So, instead, I brought treats." She motions to various things, "The wherry legs are glazed in a light syrup, with some garlic and shallots, and baked. Very tasty. The meatrolls are a touch spicy, but are quite good if you like spicy things. The greens were pan-fried over the fire, mixed with garlic again and some nut slivers, and a touch of pepper." She looks up. "I opted not to bring any juice or anythign, since you seem to have your own preferences in drinks."
Sefton inspects her work with interest, making an appreciative noise as he rises to his feet. "Essdara, you should bring me something to eat more often, if this is what you can promise. Are you sure I can't tempt you to try one of my drinks in return? I can water it for you, if you like." Barely a wince of distaste at the prospect of doing so. As he speaks, he's sorting through the bottles, reaching back for a wineskin that's settled behind them. "I disagree, however. I distinctly recall setting you homework."
Essdara shakes her head slowly, "I enjoyed what I sampled last visit, but I must confess to not caring much for such libations. Makes the mind fuzzy and makes it too hard to control one's actions." She pauses a moment after that, thinking hard on possible homework, before shaking her head. "I'm afraid, Sir, that I can't seem to recall any such thing. But I admit, my memory is not perfect."
"Wine, then?" It's what the Headmaster is drinking, apparently, for he cracks the seal on the skin, reaching over to set a pair of glasses down on the table. "The meal deserves it." Sinking into his chair for a moment, he regards her in silence, studying her face through the hair that's tumbling down into his eyes. "You are looking well. What prompts the change, will you tell me?"
Essdara nods a little. "If you like. Change?" She looks down a bit, and almost seems to be noticing the new clothing for herself for the first time. She looks back up. "No particular reason, just decided it was time to... Grow up a little, I guess. Show at least a little care for how I look to others."
"Time to grow up, and time to care about the way others perceive you. The two are not necessarily linked, Essdara." Sefton pours drinks, pushing her glass towards her, and then leaning forward to inspect the food on offer. "Indeed, often they are not. What prompted these new concerns?"
Essdara takes the offered glass, and a polite tasting sip from it. "Pleasant." She opines. She shifts her position a little with a soft shrug. "Does everything have to have a cause? It was just the right time for me. I needed a change, and it seemed a good place to start."
"I'm glad you think so," Sefton murmurs, his own glass at his lips. The seal on the skin reveals a vintage generally described with more glowing adjectives -- but only by those educated in such things. "Absolutely everything has a cause, Essdara, never doubt it. You needed a change, that is your cause. But what caused the need for the change?" It's a tone of voice straight from his classroom -- quiet, faintly amused, persistent.
Essdara gives the headmaster a long look, warily appraising, before responding with a light smirk. "If you must know, I felt the need for change after being rather solidly rejected by someone I made the mistake of falling in love with." She takes another drink from the wine, badly using it to hide discomfort. "I should have known better in the first place."
Sefton laughs, reaching up to rake his hair back from his face. "And that is what I call a reason. There's one behind everything we do, everything. I am sorry, though. I cannot imagine it is a pleasant experience." Indeed, there's a modicum of sympathy in his tone as he reaches forward, lifting his plate from the tray carefully.
Essdara frowns as the headmaster laughs, though it fades with his slightly more gentle following. "It was not, but that's the way the world works, and there's no use dwelling on it. It's better to move on and at least keep her friendship, than it would be to try to force something, or just back away entirely. So, I focus on me."
"As it happens, I agree entirely, Essdara. Sometimes it is best to simply tke what one can from the situation, accepting that it cannot be more, and avoiding making it less." A mouthful of meatroll is washed down with some of the wine, and a nod signals his approval. "This is your cooking, I take it?"
Essdara smiles and nods, keeping with a much more pleasant topic. "It is. I promised last time I would provide you something more befitting than the normal fare we serve. I hope it meets with your approval, they are some of my favourite dishes. Especially the meatrolls, but I do love things with a bit of bite."
"It does meet with my approval," Sefton allows -- the rate at which he's making inroads of the food attests to this. "We eat differently in Boll. I've found the food here a little..." A diplomatic pause, before diplomacy is discarded. "Bland. But while we eat, we must return to your homework. The difference, Essdara, between an action that is foolish, and one which is frivolous."
"Don't we all?" The girls commends, dryly. Essdara thinks a moment about her answer to the homework. "I do recall you asking that. It seems to me that something that is frivolous is one that does not serve to fill a significant need, while something that is foolish is something that is not fully thought through? You can have the most noble, important goal ever, but if the implemetation fails, then you haven't done any good. And just because you have a plan or a goal that is done perfectly, doesn't mean it was a goal worthy of the effort."
"You make an excellent point," Sefton allows, pausing for another mouthful. "I am not sure your definition stands up, though. Furnish me with examples, please." A head appears around the door, and is dismissed with a wave of his hand. "And please remind me later that I have something to ask you."
Essdara says, "Remind you? I thought we already established my memory as faulty." She grins a bit, and ponder. "Hmm. Foolish." An impish grin. "Starting up a school to promote unity and cooperation while not having enough controls in place to keep out the undesirables, the lazy, and those interested more in finding love than knowledge. Frivolity, that's harder, because of the implication that frivolity is bad. But I guess it could be said my method of cooking is frivolous, because it is more than is strictly needed to nourish the weyr. While mine may be better in flavor, it is harder on resources. It takes longer to prepare, and more ingredients, and more skill, compared to the so-called bland offerings.""
Sefton laughs long and loud, not bothering to hide his amusement at her words. "You have grown a little more daring since first we met," he tells her, dark eyes still gleaming as he quiets enough to respond. "I will pursue an argument this evening about the reasons for founding the Caucus. That would take a meal with many more courses. For now, I will allow your reasoning. Am I to take it that you would choose frivolity, were the choice yours?"
Essdara blushes a bit at the comment, and shrugs. "You seem to enjoy people with a bit of bite, the way I enjoy food. So I do my best to offer it. As for the choice, I am not sure it is a valid choice to make. They are not directly related. You can have them both, or you can have neither. You can have foolish frivolity, say spending the marks that are supposed to buy medicine on pies. You can have wise.. Well, wise whatever the opposite of frivolity is, such as actually /buying/ said medicine. But if I had to choose which trait would be attribute to me - And both are, frequently - I would choose frivolity."
"This, Essdara," Sefton informs her lazily, "is a significant improvement on our first conversation. I am agog at the thought that you might continue to improve at such a rate. You would leave my students in the shade, you know." The man from Boll doesn't look agog -- rather, he looks as he usually does; lazy, self-assured, faintly amused. "You remind me that I have something to ask you. I should like you to come to one of the classes I teach, one day in the future. If you can overcome your concerns regarding my students enough to put up with a concentration of them. Just the one time."
Essdara says, "They are not all bad." She reminds. "Just some. Sadly, one bad egg taints the lot, so to speak." She looks curious. "Why would you want me to do that? I admit, with some of the stories I have heard, to being curious about the reality. I had someone the other day get almost upset with me for refusing to consider you like some trap waiting to spring."
"Why? Because some of my students are complacent," Sefton observes. Finally he's slowing in his eating, but he's still picking away, unwilling to concede that the meal is finished. "It will do many of them good to find themselves matched, and in some cases out-matched by -- forgive me -- a girl from the kitchens." There's little apology in his tone for what he's pointing out, but a courtesy that's not always accorded to staff. "Do you think I'm a trap waiting to spring, then?" A broad grin for that prospect.
Essdara tilts her head a bit. "I don't think you are in the way she meant, no. I think you are a very clever and very," She pauses a moment, then shrugs. "A very arrogant person. I think you enjoy making people thing, and with that, making people squirm. But I don't think you do it needlessly, or hurtfully." A flash of something. "Though I will admit, what I heard of your treatment of Penny did not impress me. But I think you should no more be ashamed to be clever and manipulative than I should be to be a cook. I am right for my job, and I enjoy it. I think you are much the same, with your job."
Sefton inclines his head slightly in acknowledgement of her description, and proffers no disagreement. "Very bold tonight, Essdara. You have altered more than what you wear. I do enjoy making people think. If they squirm as a result, that is because they are unused to the mental exercise, and the blame for that is not mine." He toys with his fork for a moment, reflective, and then lifts that thoughtful gaze to her. "I am sorry you think less of me for distressing Penny -- I take it that is what you mean. In that case I did not, to use your phrase, act needlessly."
Essdara smirks a bit, taking another long drink of the wine. "I.. Have not changed as much as you think. Rather, I am more myself this visit than last, when my hurt was fresher and unresolved. And," Her voice adopts a mild teasing tone, "I never said I thought less of you, or that it was unneeded. Simply that it didn't impress me. But impressing me was, surely, not even in your mind in the least. And given Penny's avoidance of those she called friend since then, I would say your words had the effect you desired."
"I must be honest, your good opinion was not the foremost of my priorities." A gentle hint of mocking in Sefton's tone suggests that perhaps this remains the case at the present moment. "I shall have to take what I can get of your good opinion, and hope to earn more of it in the future." The laughter ill-hidden in his eyes does not speak of a man holding his breath against such an eventuality.
Nor does Essdara look like she believes it is. "So, to get back to the point. Complacancy. Do you really think my showing up would do anything to change that, or is it more likely to breed resentment and get me visited in a dark corridore late at night?"
Faint surprise mars Sefton's expression for a moment, and he regards her over the rim of his wineglass. "Do you seriously think any of the students would stoop to such a thing? That I would take serious disciplinary action goes without saying."
Essdara grins a little. "Do you really think there is noone in the Caucus who would not? I know one, at least, who I feel would need precious little incentive to waylay me as it is. No, I am nothing if not cautious. But I am also nothing if not curious, and so I will comply, and come sit in one of your classes."
"Tell me the name of this one, then." It's an order, although it's delivered as lazily as everything else. "You do not seem so aggravating to me that I find myself contemplating violence." Sefton has set aside the question of her attending class for a moment, it would seem.
Essdara shakes her head, "I don't think there is any danger of that. I avoid him, he avoids me, we are happy, honestly." A slight chuckles. "Even I am not above the odd bit of exaggeration."
"Very well." That Sefton is not entirely satisfied is clear -- dark eyes rest on her thoughtfully for several moments before he continues. "In that case, I must tell you that simply coming to sit in one of my classes will not suffice. You will need to participate, and as cheekily as you do when I ask you questions here."
Essdara is quiet a moment at that. "I can try." She says, finally. "There are some I would... Not usually show this disrespect to. I do not relish making them think less of me. But I think I see what you want, and... Well, I will do my best to do so."
"Wait a moment, now," Sefton protests, once more vastly amused. "This is disrespect you're showing? Please don't say it, Essdara. I shall find myself obliged to take action, and I would rather you continued on your current course."
Essdara can't help but laugh. "I don't know what it is, Headmaster. You bring out an interesting side of me that I enjoy exploring. Perhaps not disrepectful so much as... Irreverant, maybe?"
"Equally distressing," Sefton informs her, injecting mock-seriousness into his tone. "Certainly not the proper attitude, I should think. I manage to frighten plenty of people. I have failed comprehensively in that respect when it comes to you, it would seem." Leaning forward, he picks at the last of the meal with his fork, sorting through it for the remaining morsels.
Essdara shrugs a bit, "I have enough things to fear in the world without fearing people that have, honestly, very little direct impact on it. Why should I fear you? You are clearly not the type to be needlessly spiteful or malicious, and even if I offended you, I don't think your reaction would be so severe as to inspire fear." A quiet moment. "But I have seen for myself that some people DO seem to fear you, and that intruiges me, a lot."
"Clearly not," Sefton agrees, not the faintest hint of irony entering his voice. "You are far more entertaining when you are not terrified. I am sure you will never provide me with a reason to test out th extent of my reach." Head tilted to one side, he finishes off his wine as he regards her. "Why do you think those people fear me?"
Essdara looks at the dregs of her own glass while she considers that, then shakes her head. "I don't know, honestly. That's what has me confused. People I like and respect, seem very wary of you." A shrug. "But, as you said, I'm just a kitchen girl. Quite possibly, I'm simply not important enough to /need/ to fear you. I don't know. But I make my own decisions about people, and I've no reason to doubt what I think about you."
"And you have told me what you think about me, so I cannot complain." Sefton sets down his empty glass, leaning back in his chair. "Who is it that is so very wary of me, yet unable to convince you to be the same? Are those names secret too?" He's amused at something -- her confidence in him, perhaps. "Shall I play a game, and show you how to be frightened of me?" It's proffered as a joke, his gaze already shifting from her to the book he set aside upon her arrival.
Essdara smiles sweetly, "I see you understand me already when it comes to naming who says what. People are wary of you, and I will respect that enough to not risk causing them discomfort." She tilts her head a bit, "A game? And risk scaring me away from your class? I'm not sure you would risk it."
"You are quite right, of course. It will be far more entertaining to watch you embarass my students than to watch you scramble with the rest of them." Sefton speaks like a man who's thinking out loud, and confirms the decision with a nod. "As you are so good at keeping secrets, I will ask you to keep this conversation just as quiet. The effect will be rather diminished if they have warning." Easing forward in his chair, he lifts his plate to set it on the tray. "And now you must forgive me for taking up so much of your time. I am afraid my work calls once more."
Essdara chuckles and reaches for the tray, and making for the door. "Just let me know when, Headmaster. I'll keep it a secret, of course. I like a surprise as much as the next girl. It's been interesting, certainly, and I wish you a good evening."
"Good evening, Essdara." As she rises to leave, he comes politely to his feet -- a subtle alteration, but the first time she's been accorded the manners that offered automatically to the ranking girls of the Caucus. "I will look forward to our next discussion."."