As if embarrassed, he yanked my wrist and dragged me outside. When we were out of the room, he hissed.
"You’re embarrasing me, Celes. Don’t ever come to my office again.”
Now, lying in bed beside him, the memory of that day stung anew. The humiliation, the cold dismissal—it all came rushing back, a painful reminder of the disdain he had shown her. She had been drenched and humiliated, her sincere effort ignored and ridiculed.
Shaking off the painful recollection, Celes rose from the bed and prepared a mixture of herbal tea and an ointment for Andros’s stomachache. The process was familiar and comforting, a connection to her mother’s teachings and the promise of a new beginning under Old Sage’s mentorship.
"Here, drink this. It will help."
As she handed the remedies to Andros, he looked at her with a mixture of surprise and curiosity.
“Where did you learn this?” he asked, taking the cup of tea and sniffing it cautiously. “This is the first time you’ve done something like this.”
Celes shrugged. “Sage taught me.”