Encounter between an older teen boy and his mother meeting an authoritarian older lady who is somewhat disappointed in the mother.
Middle Aged (35-54)
Canadian, North American, US General American (GenAm)
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
But here was a mission that required personal attention from a Bennett gesserit with sight. Even the Patricia emperors. Truth Sayer couldn't evade that responsibility when the duty call came. Damn that Jessica! The reverend mother thought. If only she'd born as a girl, and she was ordered to do, Jessica stopped three paces from the chair, dropped a small cursi, a gentle flick of left hand along the line of her skirt. Paul gave the short bow. His dancing master had taught. The one. Used 1 in doubt of another station. The nuances of paul's greeting were not lost on the reverend mother, she said. He's A. Cautious one, Jessica, Jessica's hand went to paul's shoulder, tighten there, for her heartbeat. Fear pulsed through her palm. Then she had herself under control. Thus, he has been taught to your reverence. What does she fear? Paul? Wondered. The old woman studied Paul in one cast Elton Flicker face, oval, like Jessica's, but strong bones. Hair. The duke's black, black, but with brow line of the maternal grandfather, who cannot be named. And that thin, disdainful knows shape of directly staring green eyes like the old duke. The paternal grandfather, who is dead now. There was a man who appreciated the power of Provera, even in death. The reverend mother thought teaching is one thing, she said. The basic ingredient is another. We shall see! The old eyes darted a hard glance at Jessica. Leave us! I enjoin you to practice the meditation of peace. Jessica took her hand from paul's shoulder. Your reference, I, Jessica. You know, it must be done. Paul looked up at his mother, puzzled. Jessica straightened. Yes, of course, paul looked back at the reverend mother politeness, and his mother's obvious off of this woman, argued caution. Yet he felt an angry apprehension at the fear he sensed radiating from his mother. Paul, Jessica took a deep breath. This test you're about to receive. It's important to me. Test. He looked up at her. Remember that you're a duke's son, Jessica said. She whirled and strode from the room in a dry swishing of skirt. The door closed solidly behind her paul faced the old woman, holding anger in check. Does one dismiss the lady Jessica as though she were a serving wench? A smile flicked the corner of the wrinkled old mouth. The Lady Jessica was my serving Wench lad for 14 years at school. She nodded. And a good one, too. Now you come here
Grandmother, Mother, Narrator, Student, Teenager, Aged, Bossy, Feminine, Mature, Narrator, Submissive, Canadian, North American, US General American (GenAm)