5. Letter
His fine garments, adorned with the academy's crest, stood him out from the poor neighbourhood's residents, who gawked and glared at the man with fierce suspicion. The messenger, in turn, nudged his horse hastily, wondering if he got the wrong address. Surely the winner of the scholarship could not live here.
He paused outside the small hovel, hesitation. A dozen pairs of eyes were boring a hole at the back of his head. He gave the door a smart rap, praying that whoever was within would answer quickly so they could get this matter settled. He sprang back, however, when the glowering face of Venir Javert appeared.
"What do yew want?" he growled.
The messenger's knees buckled. By some miracle, he choked out, "L-letter for Jeremiah Javert?"
Venir's glare intensified. Just as the messenger thought he'd never get out of there alive, Venir snatched the letter, pocketing it. "I'll give i' ter 'im," he snarled when he saw the messenger wanted to protest.
The man dearly wanted to run there and then, but he had to finish the message. "Sir…I'm honour-bound to tell you that if Javert does not send back word within forty-eight hours, he forfeits the scholarship."
Venir's eyes narrowed into slits. "Got it. Now get da 'ell out."
The messenger needed no further encouragement.