Microscopes and Canvases - Chapter 17

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 17
When they stepped into the Reception Hall, they could only sigh at the sight of Edward still surrounded by far too many people.
It seemed unlikely that being his niece would clear a path through such a crowd, and after she’d glanced this way and that, she finally let out a short breath.
“All right. This seems like the only way.”
She turned to Patrick with a small smile.
“I’m not particularly keen on it, but since you helped me today, I’ll give it a try.”
“…I’m sorry?”
“Are you ready? I’ll make an opening for you—that’s when you slip in.”
While Patrick hesitated, uncertain what she meant, Beatrice left him with a “Wait here” and waded purposefully into the crowd.
Then, from somewhere in the midst of journalists busy transcribing interview notes into their notebooks, she called out very loudly:
“Uncle! Uncle Edward!”
Arms waving above her head, a crown of brown hair bobbed up above the human barrier.
“Oh, Beatrice!”
At his warm recognition, the rigid barrier wavered and parted. The niece who had such special ties to Greenleaf—and a particularly striking beauty of the social set, at that!
The second piece of appetizing news to walk straight toward them on its own two feet this evening. As flashbulbs began erupting from all sides, Beatrice felt a touch of embarrassment, but she linked her arm through Edward Rockwell’s and smiled up at him with the warmth of a beloved niece.
After the flashes came a few more times, Beatrice tilted her head toward the journalists.
“Is there anything you’d like to know? Should I tell you some stories about my uncle’s childhood?”
The effect was immediate. The journalists, who had already heard nearly everything they could from Lord Rockwell all evening, surged toward this fresh target.
Notebooks rustled as they flipped open, elbows bumped and jostled, and through it all Beatrice laughed brightly, raising both hands.
“Gentlemen, please. And I do hope you’ll let my uncle rest for a moment. He’s had quite an exhausting evening, hasn’t he?”
Beatrice’s warm and lively presence had shifted the mood entirely. The journalists mostly nodded in agreement, so she gathered them together and asked them to wait, then gently pulled Edward aside and whispered something to him.
“Is that so?”
Edward raised an eyebrow. Following his niece’s whisper, the Director’s gaze turned toward Patrick, who stood rigid with tension and offered a careful bow.
Shortly after, the journalists closed around Beatrice, and at last freed from their attention, Edward Rockwell walked toward Patrick with an easy smile.
“I… good evening, Director. I’m Patrick William Bennett.”
“Of course. A pleasure. I’m familiar enough with the Count Bennett Family.”
“Yes….”
“So, what brings you?”
“Well.”
Patrick swallowed hard, and with a clammy hand, carefully offered the Research Plan. Edward accepted it with a slight smile.
“Actually, I came hoping to show you a research project I’m working on.”
When he handed over the thesis, Patrick’s hands trembled slightly, to his embarrassment.
* * *
A considerable amount of time had passed, and the Director remained perfectly still, absorbed in Patrick’s research plan.
At first, he seemed to be only skimming it lightly, but his hand turned the pages more and more slowly, and his eyes grew steadily more serious. Eventually, he flipped back to the beginning and started reading again from the start.
“Hmm….”
Each time he found an interesting passage, the Director’s eyebrows twitched slightly. Patrick, imagining where he might be reading, bit his lip anxiously.
A waltz ended at the far end of the Corridor, and another began; the Director stood motionless through it all, until at last, after a very long time, he looked up and regarded Patrick with keen, interested eyes.
“This is quite fascinating, and remarkably fresh. You’ve made a remarkable discovery.”
The moment he heard those words, Patrick’s head snapped up in disbelief.
“Truly? But everyone else….”
Patrick found himself staring at Edward, the Director, for a long moment. Was this a dream?
“Of course they do. These days everyone loves research that turns a profit.”
His tone carried a wry edge, and Edward Rockwell tapped the research plan lightly with his fingertip.
“But this—this is different. In my eyes, it’s scholarship beyond any price, truly invaluable.”
“…Ah.”
Patrick took a careful breath, thinking his chest might burst outright. All those long, desperate years of hoping—hoping for exactly these words—and now they fell like a weight lifting from his shoulders.
“Thank you. Truly….”
“But tell me.”
Edward Rockwell’s gaze fixed intently on Patrick.
“You have a title, and yet you’ve taken up study in this field. How did you come to this path?”
Emboldened now, Patrick answered readily.
“I’ve admired your writings for a long time, Director. In fact, it was your work that drew me into this research topic in the first place.”
“Is that so? Did I write something about moss?”
“‘
Moss is a stubborn plant that takes root even without soil. On bare rock with nothing to inherit from anyone, it holds water within itself alone… and fashions the very earth from its own body.
….'”
“Good heavens.”
Edward’s eyebrow rose with amusement. He’d written perhaps hundreds of pieces over nearly twenty years, scattered between newspapers and academic journals. But he’d never seen someone recite one from memory.
“‘
Even after a forest has grown to full height, moss survives longest in the lowest places. In that unremarkable organism, I see a completeness of self-reliance that no towering tree can match.
”
Patrick spoke each word with deliberate precision and force.
Moss that inherits nothing, grows entirely by its own strength, finds its own place—those sentences had been almost poetry to a fifteen-year-old Patrick gasping for air beneath the path his family had laid out for him.
Patrick steadied his breathing and continued quietly.
“When my heart was troubled and worn down, your words saved me, Director.”
“That’s quite a claim, but I understand it.”
A faint smile crossed Edward’s lips. He closed the thesis and examined the front and back covers once, then, as if he had no intention of returning it at all, tucked it under his arm and turned to face Patrick directly.
“Bryophyte Research in Brionia is still largely unexplored territory. There’s work to be done. Specimens pour in from all quarters, the classification system is in chaos, and every scholarly society squabbles over identifying new species. It’s quite admirable that you’ve chosen to leap headlong into that confusion. Where do you plan to conduct your research going forward?”
“So…”
Patrick straightened his shoulders fully and drew a deep breath. Then he laid out his ambitions boldly to Edward Greenleaf.
“If you would give me the opportunity to work at the Museum, I would like to continue my research in earnest.”
Edward did not answer immediately. He tapped the edge of the thesis tucked under his arm with his finger, measured something in silence for a moment, then spoke.
“With so many experienced staff, I’m not sure we can hire a new researcher. But I’ll give it consideration. Have you reached agreement with the family elders?”
“Yes.”
“And marriage?”
“I beg your pardon?”
Edward wore a wry smile.
“As you well know, when someone does something like this, they become the black sheep of the family. There will be considerable pressure to marry. The question is whether you’ll have time to devote to your research.”
“I can manage it.”
Patrick nodded vigorously, and the Director burst into hearty laughter.
“Good. Then I’ll look into it.”
With an encouraging pat on Patrick’s shoulder, the Director turned and left one final word in his wake.
“It was an impressive thesis. Once the hiring is finalized, I’ll be in touch. Wait for word from me.”
There was something oddly meaningful in the Director’s smile as he turned to leave.
The brief meeting ended there. Patrick watched in a daze as Edward was surrounded by board members again, then turned to go. He still could not believe what had just happened to him.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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