Amantine's Song

Chapter 10

CHAPTER 6

I felt like I wasn’t taken seriously. Even worse, teased. It was horrible. I even thought of giving up my project. It was clear that Hermann Frey didn’t consider me worthy enough since he had been paying his full attention to that ass licker Gregor Jackman, lately. A part of me was ready to leave and search for better luck elsewhere. That same part almost felt relieved at the idea. But the truth was that I wouldn’t have known what else I could do with my life, or where to go. It was the one that held me back and pushed me, or perhaps forced me, to keep going.

I just hoped that being a woman wouldn’t put me at a disadvantage. No, Professor Frey didn’t seem like the type. However, I was already psychologically committed to work double or even triple to show him how good I was. And how better I could be than that sleazy little opportunist Gregor.

‘What are you working on?’

My attempts to avoid him were useless, and I hated that he inquired about my work. I wasn’t jealous about it, on the contrary, I would have gladly talked to anyone else. It could be useful for me to hear some disinterested opinion. Too bad that his wasn’t. He was retrieving information to fight back, it was obvious!

‘Nothing new.’ I remained vague. That then was true, that I hadn’t found much exciting lately, it wasn’t a lie. But it annoyed me that he knew it. Also because he kept it very confidential, the information about his own work.

‘Are you still investigating Byron? Are you sure there is still something to discover?’ He gave me a wry, malicious smile. Here was another one that inspired me to punch him in the face. But while the provocative expression contributed to increase the charm of punchable face, Gregor gave the idea of a mocking and at the same time cruel demon. One for whom I wouldn’t have shown any mercy and I would willingly have sent to hell. He could also be a handsome man, if he wanted to. If one likes the contrast between dark brown hair and red beard.

Suddenly the old man’s words came back to me. Those verses of Keats’s poetry. Maybe I could start a parallel research, keeping everyone in the dark. Even Frey, at the moment. They would continue to believe that I was concentrating on my dear beloved Byron, meanwhile...

I wasn’t sure though, it seemed like I was going to lose too much time. In fact, I would lose twice as much of it and all the work I had already done would be useless. Follow the instinct or continue on the path of reason even if more and more unsatisfactory? I didn’t know. I only knew that each passing day I felt more and more useless, demotivated and above all replaceable.