Victoria's teacher was ready and willing to give her the exams first thing the next morning, much to her surprise. Apparently very ready to have the young woman off the roles and out of the school, he went and got the papers immediately upon request.
Apparently consolidating the Cetoan children into the Klain schools had been quite the daunting task, and one less student to think about was a relief to the learned man.
Victoria strongly suspected he was desperate enough to grade her exams generously and pass her regardless of how she did, but she nevertheless took her time and gave her best effort to do well.
It was the least she could do for Mama and Papa after leaving them for so long and then declaring she would leave again the moment she returned. Maybe she should have delayed the exams, and just spent her days in school… but no, the poor teacher seemed frazzled to the bone.
For a moment she considered offering herself as an assistant to him, but that was outside of her purview. She was an adequate nurse in helping Dr. Sherman, but she'd never taught classes.
Nursing was a skill they would want very much in the military. She didn't fully know the types of responsibilities women had in the army, but she knew that Mrs. Sherman had been through it. She could surely do it, as well. Right?
Her mind was wandering, and she yanked it back to the paper in front of her. Klain history. Not her finest subject. She concentrated, and found her way through the rest of the exam with some effort.
The teacher proclaimed he would grade it on the spot so that she wouldn't have to come back another day with the results. Really, he seemed anxious to be done with all his responsibilities towards her.
So she waited, her eyes drifting with her thoughts. Her traitorous imagination conjured images of her in the recruitment office, lifting the pen to sign the paper for a year's service, when Gabriel would burst through the door and declare what an idiot he'd been! That he loved her after all, and would she do him the honor of marrying him?
A wistful sigh escaped her lips, her imagination diving further in, conjuring a wedding dress, a bouquet, her friends and family all saying–
"Congratulations!"
The single word brought a smile to her lips.
"Thank you, I never dreamed–" She began, until her eyes focused back in the present, as the teacher held aloft her exam papers.
"You never dreamed you would pass? What kind of attitude is that? Of course you're not the best student I've ever had, but you're plenty bright enough to pass your final exam," The man's brow furrowed, and Victoria ducked her head in embarrassment.
"Thank you, Sir. I'm happy to have accomplished the completion of your courses!" She chimed. "Am I excused?"
"Yes, of course, rather permanently, I suppose. I can bring a formal diploma to your home if you need it–" He looked down at his desk.
"That would be wonderful–thank you!" She said again as she slid out the door and into the noon sunshine.
With a heavy sigh, she raised her face upwards. The clouds of the early morning had burned away–possibly Ivan's efforts to grow the crops stronger and faster, she'd learned–and she let the sunlight hit her full in the face.
It was gratifying, if a bit strange. Since she was very young, this was a goal she was moving towards: graduating from her education. It was not by choice, of course; all children in Klain had to undergo education of a certain level, either privately or in the provided schools. Apprentices usually learned from their masters, but children raised at home normally went to the open schools.
There was a newfound sense of freedom in that she was no longer under the supervision of this teacher and officially free from the rigors of learning something new. Not that she hated learning, but the set curriculum did not always suit her tastes.
The day was hers! Her life was hers! For the moment, anyway. She would volunteer for the military soon enough. She decided to celebrate her momentary freedom with a treat. Taking the bit of money out of her pocket, she counted it out and found she had enough to buy a sweet from a street vendor.
She doubted they provided such things to soldiers.
There was nothing about the day to dampen her spirits. She'd managed to avoid Gabriel on her way out of the house this morning, and he should be busy now working until the evening meal. She could make herself busy in the kitchen and jump on top of doing dishes so that she had to endure his company as little as possible.
She didn't even need to think about him right now! She could enjoy her time to herself before going back to the house. She'd finished her exam much more quickly than she'd expected, so no one even thought she would be home soon. What should she do with all her time? Where should she go?
With a deep breath, she turned and headed toward where her favorite vendor usually sold his little pastries made with sweetened bean paste. The streets were rather crowded with people, and Victoria wound her way through the throng. It was strange, after weeks in the wilderness, to once again wander through such a collection of people.
The mood was lighter than the day she'd arrived, likely because of the sunshine, but there was still tension underneath it all. Rumor had it that the rain by the sea was acidic, and so the clouds of the morning had made people feel some trepidation about whether a similar rain would fall here.
The gardens all needed watering. The lake and river around the city were still clean and clear for now, and people captured as much as they could in barrels to be prepared for what might come.
Stepping up to the vendor, she pointed to her favorite flavor, tinted to the color of the tea used in its making.
"Ration card?" He asked. Confused, she held up her money.
"I have enough money," She said.
"I can't allow you to purchase any without your card," The man replied with a measure of irritation.
"I don't know what that means," Victoria said, "I only recently arrived back–"
"If you're a refugee, you must report to the City Hall for processing and issuance of the card," He explained. "Every person receives one so that they do not try to hoard food. If you plant a garden, you can eat or sell what you grow yourself, but sellers must not allow one person to have more than they need, or not everyone will get fed."
"Oh, I see." Victoria frowned. "I suppose I'll have to get one."
"Here, use mine for today," A voice said from behind her as a hand thrust it forward. The vendor made a mark on the thick paper card and delivered it back, then promptly handed Victoria the appropriate amount of food for the money she'd given him.
She was still frozen in place, cursing her luck with closed eyes.
"Thank you, Gabriel," She said politely as she turned to face him. "You didn't have to do that."
"Mrs. Sherman got ration cards for us both so she can buy enough to make dinner. Since I was leaving on a house call, she gave me mine in case I wanted to get some lunch while I was out. I suppose she didn't think you would need yours at your exam," He explained.
"Oh, I see." She looked down, eager to end the conversation but not sure how to without being exceedingly rude. Gabriel was trying to treat her politely and not be awkward about her confession, but she couldn't bring herself to participate in the charade that everything was normal between them.
"I take it from your choice of treat that you are celebrating passing your exam?" He smiled brightly, and her traitorous heart stumbled.
"Yes, in fact." She looked down at the pair of pastries in her hand. "Would you like one? It seems you just gave up your chance at having lunch in order for me to get these."
"Thank you, yes." He said, plucking one from her grasp.
He seemed cheerful. Too cheerful. Her eyes narrowed.
"You're here to talk me out of joining the military." She gathered.
His smile slipped from his lips, and the anxiety in his eyes spread to the rest of his face. Victoria braced herself for the conversation, or to run from it. She couldn't quite decide which would be preferable.
"You always could see through me, Tori. Is there any way at all I can keep you from doing such a foolhardy thing? It just can't be what you really want to do. I'm sure of it."