In the prosperous times when the Queen was in power, the court was still a man's world.
I got up from the papers at the bottom, imitated their tone, followed their rules, and walked through the doors they refused to open for me.
The young hero saw me from a high place.
His kindness came too early and was as stable as a charter that had been written long ago.
I couldn't believe it, but I couldn't refuse - because in this court, position is more reliable than emotion.
I climbed up and dealt with him.
In officialdom, I learned to hide my edge between the lines; in front of him, I learned to hide my sincerity deeper.
But the further up I go, the harder it becomes to tell: whether I am becoming myself, or whether I am being molded into "what they want."
Intention: Fight for your own position in rules that do not belong to you