Morning sunlight poured through the windows in golden sheets, but Perido still hadn't stirred.
Garnet, however, stretched like a lazy cat—and nearly rolled off the sofa. She caught herself with a gasp, arms flailing.
"How did I end up *here*?"
"Did you sleep well?" Daya asked mildly.
"Did I actually fall asleep on a *sofa*?"
"You did. And you didn't wake once—slept like a log."
"But I *never* sleep anywhere except a proper bed..."
Garnet stared at the sofa cushions as though they'd personally betrayed her.
*But that's not the point*, Daya thought. She suppressed a smile and let out a quiet, almost disbelieving laugh.
"Oh, for the first time in ages, I actually got enough sleep." Garnet pressed a hand to her stomach. "I'm *starving*."
The moment she said it, Daya realized she was ravenous too. A deep, unbroken sleep had worked its mysterious alchemy on both of them.
A soft knock interrupted the thought. The door cracked open, and Rubiena's honey-blonde head poked cautiously through.
"Sisters? Are you awake?"
"Ruby, come in."
Rubiena slipped inside, her gaze immediately sweeping toward the bed. "And Perido?"
"Still sleeping," Daya said quietly.
"What?" Garnet's expression flickered—concern, then something softer. She dropped her voice to a whisper and tiptoed toward the bed, peering down at their brother with an air of stunned approval. "He's... he's actually *asleep*?"
"Soundly," Daya confirmed, watching Perido's peaceful face with a mixture of pity and tenderness. "As though he's making up for all the sleep he's lost."
"Sisters!" Rubiena's voice dropped to an excited whisper, her eyes shining. "This is *magic*!"
Garnet smoothed down her sleep-tousled blonde hair and fixed her youngest sister with a skeptical stare. "What are you talking about, Ruby?"
"I saw everything." Rubiena puffed out her chest with confidence.
"Saw *what*, exactly?"
"How you and Perido fell asleep."
"Ruby." Garnet waved a dismissive hand. "We were exhausted from trying to get Perido to sleep. Of course we passed out eventually."
"*No.*" Rubiena shook her head vigorously. "It was Teacher Marin who put everyone to sleep. Like *magic*."
Garnet let out a derisive chuckle. "Reading is wonderful, Ruby, but perhaps we should learn to distinguish *books* from *reality*." She turned toward Daya, seeking support. "Isn't it time someone told her to put the fairy tales down? The child can't even tell the difference anymore—"
She stopped mid-sentence.
Daya was listening intently to Rubiena, her expression grave.
*Why does she look so serious?*
"Ruby." Something flickered in Daya's dark green eyes. "Tell me exactly what you saw."
"Yesterday, when I looked in here, you and Garnet and Perido were all already asleep." Rubiena spoke carefully now, sensing the shift in atmosphere. "And Teacher Marin was standing over you, tucking blankets around everyone."
Garnet's gaze dropped to the blanket pooled at her feet—the one she didn't remember pulling over herself.
"It wasn't *you* who covered me?"
"No." Daya shook her head slowly.
"So it's true, then?" Garnet's voice rose with agitation. "That woman actually put us all to sleep? *How*? How is that even—"
"*Garnet.* Quiet."
Garnet clapped a hand over her own mouth, remembering Perido still slumbering behind them.
Rubiena, watching from the sidelines, nodded sagely.
"I'm telling you. *Magic*."
---
A light knock interrupted them.
Rubiena, standing closest to the door, pulled it open.
"Oh! Teacher Marin!"
"Good morning, Ruby."
Marin nodded warmly to the youngest sister, then turned her smile toward the room at large.
"Did everyone sleep well?"
Daya and Garnet stared at her with matching expressions of bewildered suspicion. Daya recovered first.
"Yes. Very well, thank you."
"*Hmph.*"
Garnet snorted and sidled away, watchful as a cat who'd spotted something she didn't quite trust.
Marin noted this with a faint, unbothered smile. Her gaze swept the room, landing on the bed.
"Perido is still sleeping?"
"Yes."
"You must be hungry."
"*Yes!*" Rubiena's hand shot up. "I'm *really* hungry!"
Marin looked at her with undisguised affection and reached out to ruffle the girl's honey-colored curls.
"Then we'd better get breakfast started quickly, hadn't we?"
She glanced toward Daya.
"After a proper night's sleep, appetite always returns. That's why I asked Julia to have breakfast brought early." She turned toward the doorway. "Julia?"
"Yes, my lady."
Julia, who had been waiting in the corridor, rolled a cart through the door—a cart laden to overflowing with dishes.
She crossed to an empty table and began laying out a breakfast more varied than any the children had seen since arriving: freshly baked bread still warm from the oven, sweet onion soup fragrant with caramelized depth, thick sandwiches layered with eggs and tender chicken, a bright salad of tomatoes and basil and creamy cheese, thin pancakes drizzled with honey and topped with sliced bananas, fresh fruit nestled beside bowls of cool yogurt, pitchers of orange juice and cold milk.
Rubiena scrambled into a chair immediately.
"Sisters, hurry! Come eat!"
"*Hmph.* I won't—"
Garnet's stomach chose that precise moment to growl. Loudly. *Mortifyingly* loudly.
Her cheeks flushed crimson.
Marin pretended to hear nothing at all. She simply smiled and offered a gentle:
"Enjoy your meal."
She had already turned to leave when Daya's voice stopped her.
"For... for yesterday." The words came stiffly, as though dragged from somewhere deep. "And for arranging breakfast this morning."
"It's nothing."
"And one more thing..."
Marin waited, silent, patient.
"From now on..." Daya drew a breath. "Please look after Ruby and Perido. Teacher Marin."
She bowed—a proper, formal bow, the kind reserved for those one intended to trust.
Marin's face broke into a radiant smile.
"Of course!"
She departed with Julia in tow, leaving the sisters to their feast.
---
The moment the door clicked shut, Garnet abandoned all pretense.
Without even sitting down, she snatched a sandwich and tore into it with undisguised hunger.
"*Garnet!*" Rubiena protested, scandalized.
"*Delicious.*" Garnet spoke around a mouthful, utterly unrepentant. "Western cuisine—maybe not so bad after all. Daya, eat. Oh, look—bananas again? This chef's clever, isn't he?"
Before, the food hadn't suited her at all. Then bananas had started appearing, and for a while she'd eaten almost nothing else. Now, apparently, her appetite had decided to return in force.
Watching Garnet devour her breakfast with the enthusiasm of someone half-starved, Daya couldn't help but laugh.
"What's so funny?" Garnet demanded, still chewing.
"You've got something on your lip."
"Oh, *really*? Is it proper to point that out to a *lady*?" Garnet grabbed a napkin and dabbed frantically at her mouth.
"What lady? All I see is a hungry child."
"*Excuse me?*"
Rubiena watched the two of them bicker—*really* bicker, like they used to before everything fell apart—and felt something warm bloom in her chest.
She grinned.
"I'm telling you," she said to no one in particular. "Real magic."
---
## — The Duke's Study —
As Daya followed Advisor Olive through the castle corridors, her good mood slowly curdled.
*The Duke is summoning me?*
The phrase "*now*, suddenly" rose in her throat, bitter and sharp. But she swallowed it.
If she said that aloud, it would sound as though she'd been *waiting* for this invitation. And she hadn't been. She *hadn't*.
Olive stopped before a massive door—dark wood, iron fixtures, imposing in its silence.
*The Duke's study?*
"Come in."
The voice from within was low, almost disinterested.
Daya glanced sideways at Olive. He smiled with his eyes—that infuriating, gentle expression—and nodded toward the door.
"Please, go ahead."
"Just me?"
"His Lordship ordered that only the young lady be admitted."
She stared at him. Had that single, curt "come in" somehow conveyed all of that? The man's economy of words was almost offensive.
Olive's serene smile didn't waver. He pressed a brass candlestick into her hands—a single candle burning steadily at its center.
"Why...?"
"It's very dark inside."
He opened the door, stepped aside, and said nothing more.
---
Daya crossed the threshold.
The darkness inside was absolute.
Step by careful step, she advanced, the candle's small flame carving a trembling circle of light from the black. Gradually, shapes emerged: a massive desk, papers stacked in rigid order, and behind it all—the silhouette of the Duke.
He sat motionless in the shadows, watching her approach. No—not watching. His eyes remained closed. And yet she felt his attention like a physical weight, pressing against her skin.
*He looks like a predator*, she thought. *A beast resting in its den, conserving energy for the next kill.*
She set the candlestick on the floor. The flame flickered, throwing dancing shadows across the walls.
Silence stretched between them—thick, suffocating.
Only when the quiet had grown unbearable did Daya raise her head and meet his unseeing gaze.
"You summoned me."
Her voice came out steadier than she felt.
*Having declared himself our guardian, he threw a lavish ball on the very day of our arrival. He paid us no attention whatsoever. And only* now *does he deign to call.*
"Anything you require for your debut," the Duke said flatly, "speak to Olive at any time."
Daya couldn't help it.
She laughed—a short, mocking sound that echoed in the darkness.
The Duke didn't react.
*Of course not.* For someone to provoke a reaction, there had to be at least a drop of affection present. If she acted like Garnet—hurling accusations, demanding answers—he would simply sit there in silence, unmoved.
"I don't want a debut." The words came out sharper than she intended. "Or is that an *order*? But I'm not Your Lordship's subject, so I see no reason to obey."