Odette often visited Geoffrey in Noblecourt, but she only took Cyrus with her once.
A Forgotten Meeting
It had been 10 years ago, if he was remembering right, not long before word started to travel of the fall of house Azelhart. Not long before Odette put in her notice and left Atlasdam for good.
At the time, Cyrus had had no idea that these two acts were related, he had no idea that this would be the last time she and Geoffrey met. He simply went along to Noblecourt with his friend, hoping to procure some of the resources he needed for his current topic of research from the travelling merchants.
He had no idea he'd meet someone important at the market that day.
No, he simply parted ways with Odette at the market square, looking from one merchants goods to the next, discussing the wares they carried and haggling a good price when needed. With a flutter of his cape and a hearty chuckle as leaves exchanged hands, Cyrus made something of a name for himself at that market, an oblivious young professor who knew not how much items were worth nor how much the local women flirted with him. He was very much a merchant's delight.
Until finally the young Azelhart girl got involved.
"500 leaves you say?" Cyrus asked, weighing up a block of loose leaves of paper tied with rotting twine. Though he knew not the author of these pages nor what tales and knowledge was hidden within, Cyrus very much wanted to get his hands on them, to take them back to his room and read their words until his eyes blurred. "Could we perhaps make it 300?"
"450, take it or leave it." The merchant said finally, a strange smile creasing his features that Cyrus didn't have the street smarts to understand was the smile of a swindler.
"Very well." Pulling out his coin purse, Cyrus started to count his leaves.
That was, until the young Azelhart got involved. "Not so fast."
"Hm?" Turning around, Cyrus watched as a short teenage girl came over to them, her hands firmly on her hips as she stared the trembling merchant down.
"The good scholar will pay no more than 100 leaves for that stack." She said forcefully, an authoritative tone to her voice that Cyrus had never heard from a girl as young as her. "Or I can make sure you never do trade in this town again."
"Y-yes, Lady Azelhart." The merchant stammered, bowing to the young girl. "100 leaves, please sir."
A little confused by the encounter, but never one to say no to a bargain, Cyrus handed his leaves to the merchant and took the stack of papers, following the young girl out of the market and up to the bench that over looked it. "Thank you, miss."
"Think nothing of it." Primrose shook her head, inspecting her nails.
"I will most certainly think something of it!" Cyrus exclaimed, sitting on the bench besides her as she sighed. "Not just anyone would help a man protect his leaves from a swindler. In fact, I would go so far as to say-"
"What's your name?" She cut him off, no room for needless chatter in her young life. She wanted simply to sit and watch the world move by, to sit and wonder what it might be like to be a normal person like this scholar rather than some noble's daughter.
"Professor Cyrus Albright." Cyrus introduced himself, bowing slightly as he sat. "Did I hear right that you are the young Lady Azelhart?"
"Primrose." She offered her hand for him to shake, tired of all the titles, the bows.
"A pleasure to meet you, Primrose." Cyrus smiled on her, a smile she couldn't help but reciprocate. It wasn't so hard for her to understand why all the women of the market were so smitten with him; a charming smile, a lovely voice and clearly enough leaves in his purse to be swindled of a few hundred…
"Tell me, Professor, what's it like?" She asked, pulling her knees to her chest as she continued to watch the people laugh and go about their business.
"To be a professor?" Cyrus shook his head, laughing slightly to himself as he did. "I'm afraid I cannot give you an accurate answer to that one, my dear. I've only been a professor for-"
"No." Primrose shook her head, resting her cheek on her knee as she continued to watch, her eyes unfocused. "What's it like to be normal?"
"Oh." Looking from the girl back to the market, Cyrus sighed. "It's overrated, my dear. Yes, you might have the weight of the town on your shoulders one day, however you will not want for anything, you will not have to claw, scrape and barter just for enough food on your plate for one night's meal. That is worth all the bowing and pretty words you will have to endure in your life. You can trust me on that, my dear."
For a moment all was silent, the pair simply sat and watched the people go about their business. What Primrose was thinking about in that moment, Cyrus couldn't know; nor could she know what he was thinking of. By the time they met again, a decade later, they had long forgotten about that meeting, what they were thinking in that moment.
And when at last Primrose opened her mouth, Odette crossed the bridge from the other side of town with her father, stealing away whatever she would have said as they parted ways.
For a decade, they both forgot about that conversation, about ever meeting at all. They had much more pressing things to worry about, after all.
And when at last they met again all those years later, they barely recognised each other, barely remembered each other and that meeting. They merely thought one another a familiar face, a recognisable name ringing bells deep in the vaults of their memories.
That was until Cyrus asked, during a quiet moment as they watched their friends shop the market stalls in Grandport: "Tell me, Primrose, what was it like for you to be 'normal'?"
A small, almost saddened smile came to her face as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest and watched Tressa laugh uproariously as she put a floral hat on Therion, as H'aanit and Olberic stroked weapons a few stalls away, as Ophilia and Alfyn procured rare flowers from an apothecarial stall around the other side of the market.
"For all my regrets, my degradation and mistakes," Primrose flashed him a grin. "I wouldn't change it for the world, Professor."