Bethas 29, 2720 - Afternoon Teatime
But then Mrs. Ibutatu laughed that sharp and sudden way she had, and Diana set her teacup down. Brilliant, she'd said. And she'd looked right at her, not around the room, not trying to catch someone's eye. A smile bloomed that on a less sharp face might have been called shy.
"Mostly just her ego, I think." Cerise's expression shifted from shy to proud and a little vicious. Antoinette had been bruised, but only lightly. Of course she had complained about it constantly until the bruises healed, but Cerise had never found any part of her that was sorry for it. There were worse things than a little bruising. She had not expected anyone to like her story, except perhaps Mrs. Ibutatu. That Diana had as well warmed her more than she would ever say.
The smile on Mrs. Ibutatu's face was not the sweet smile of a lady at tea in an Uptown parlor. Cerise didn't know what it was, just that she wanted to see more of it. Mrs. Rochambeaux mentioned embarrassment at a backlash in seventh form, which Cerise turned over in her mind. She didn't think that she felt no shame at all. Cerise shifted uncomfortably in her seat, thinking of the stain on the chair that her skirt was spread over. There was nothing to be done for the stain on the skirt itself.
But when Mrs. Ibutatu looked at her, Cerise found herself nodding. Nobody could give you shame you didn't take. Some refusals were just easier than others. It was one thing, she wanted to protest, to say that about losing in front of an audience. There was no shame in loss, only in cowardice. But weren't there other things where it wasn't so simple? She didn't want to sound like a child, so she didn't say anything at all.
This had been going well, she thought. Somehow, she thought it was going well--at least for a given definition of well. Everyone was still here, Ellie was smiling. Even Diana wasn't angry with her, even though she'd broken something. At least if she was she was hiding it rather well, which was just as good.
Cerise shrugged too, and she smiled at Mrs. Rochambeaux. "I don't know if--there is more to it than victory or loss. A well-earned loss is just as good as a victory, sometimes. Although--" Cerise's smile turned sharp and she flicked her eyes to Mrs. Ibutatu. "Victory is always preferable."
Unthinkingly, she turned to her stepmother and opened her mouth. "If most perceptivists are pompous, does that include--" Her voice had been bright; halfway through she choked. Too suddenly Cerise realized what she was about to ask; or rather, who about. Her expression faltered, shifted, and then she turned away. What about clairvoyants, she thought sourly. They seemed plenty smug to her.