She had always known she would become a scholar, perhaps a teacher, one day, but to be the brightest pupil in university--a higher form of education most her sex would not have even dreamed a possibility--had never fully been considered within her grasp--until it happened. Blaine Cardwell had it all: a good family, wealth, beauty and brains. She was either regarded with admiration or jealousy, never neutrality or indifference. She was the prize to be attained, a goal to reach or an inspiration to follow. The limelight was hers to bask in and her hand one many wanted in marriage. All these "fortunes" were lost on the young woman, however.<br/><br/>At twenty-one, all Blaine wanted was her name published in groundbreaking research and a library that held all the world's secrets. Mysticism called to her, but history and archaeology would have to suffice as her double major until she was able to continue her own research in a field most saw as ludicrous. Fortunately for her, she had found a kindred spirit in a professor she now revered with such admiration for he never laughed at her theories or ideas and encouraged her imaginative stretch when it came to mysticism. So long as she was able to prove her argument with evidence, she could argue that the moon was a goddess and the fields of wheat her womb. He was modern and saw no threat in having a woman as his star student. A brain was a brain and Blaine had one.<br/><br/>Glancing at her reflection in the mirror, the young brunette regarded her reflection with professional criticism. Her hair was coiffed and pinned back so that her hat sat well on her head. Her rouge was minimal and her lipstick the color of a red apple. In comparison, her alabaster skin once again showed her why her parents had christened her with such an awful name. She had refused the moniker and claimed Blaine as her surname since the stubborn age of six. As her chocolate brown eyes glided further down her slender body, she noted her royal blue suit jacket and skirt with a white collared blouse peaking out and the pair of bright canary pumps on her dainty feet. The same yellow was in the color of her gloves and like her shoes, small red bows decorated them at wrist and toes. She looked more professional than she felt.<br/><br/>Giving her appearance a satisfied nod, Blaine picked up her briefcase and descended the stairs. Her family's driver was waiting for her at in the foyer with the rest of her luggage. She nodded to him and once she was seated safely inside, he loaded her luggage in trunk to bring her to school. Professor Forbes would be waiting for her.<br/><br/>Blanchette "Blaine" Cardwell:<br/><script class="js-extraPhrases" type="application/json">
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