Professor Cosyt cleared her throat. "Actually, Melona, if you could stay for a moment. I'd like to talk."
With any other teacher, Melona would panic. Here, she felt delighted. She turned around. "Sure!"
"Thank you." She gestured at a desk the center of the front row, a coveted prize normally reserved for the student to arrive to class first. Melona went to sit, and Cosyt stood up. She began to pace, almost nervously, across the front of the room. It was unusual, to say the least; normally Professor Cosyt was calm and collected, yet now Melona could tell something was up. After a long silence, Melona raised a hand.
"Um, Professor," she asked. "What's going on?"
Cosyt turned, startled, to face the room. "I--sorry, Melona." She smiled again, and the wall of emotion behind that perfect, beaming face began to come through like a glacier sweeping down from the north. It was still inscrutable, but right now Melona wished, more than anything, that she had a sword, a steed, and a suit of shining armor so that she could ride out against whatever was making Professor Cosyt like this.
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