Rubbing his eyes, Mark rested his forehead against his palm, tiredly. Sometimes he felt his department was overstaffed, but some days - like today, when he'd had to deal with someone who'd amazingly smuggled in a
Manticore, of all creatures, he was glad for the extra assistance. Not that he'd show it. Apart from Adrian, he barely associated with anyone in the workplace - and he and Adrian both knew it was dangerous to be too close because of where their loyalties lay. They could not draw too much suspicion to themselves. So Mark simply kept to himself, doing his work dilligently and carefully. At least the day was nearly over. He needed a rest.
Suddenly, a letter dropped on to his desk, and Mark perked up, suddenly.
Who could it be? If it had anything more to do with the manticore...but the handwriting was not too familiar, so cautiously, he picked it up and began to read.
Larissa. Mark gave a small groan, he quite liked the girl, but she was just a girl. Only fifteen. It would be completely abhorrent of him to think of her as anything more than a child. And the letter did nothing to soothe his fears.
At least glad for the opportunity to break from work, Mark grabbed a spare piece of parchment, dipped his quill in ink, and began to write.
Larissa,
I trust school is treating you well? Work is a pain, but I am managing. At least, I believe I am.
I would also like to see you again, so I will consent to meet you on the Brightstone weekend. But what you say will not quell my fears - it is the reactions of others that I am more concerned about. So if we are to meet, you must promise that we will be discreet about it.
Let me know the exact dates and I will meet you then.
Looking forward to seeing you,
Mark
Attaching the letter to the awaiting bird, Mark sent it off and then went back to his work, the day's activities beginning to give him a migrane.
