"Hello, young lady."
Roenna smiled gently at the charming girl standing before her.
The child had been clutching a book to her chest with both hands. Now she lowered it carefully, set it on the ground, and swept into an aristocratic curtsy—surprisingly graceful for one so young.
"Good day, Viscountess Shuvents. I am Rubiena Adria."
"What a pleasure to meet you, Lady Adria." Roenna's eyes crinkled warmly. "But tell me—how did you know I was Viscountess Shuvents?"
"You look like Teacher Marin."
The simple declaration, offered so earnestly, made Roenna's smile deepen.
"You have quite a gift for flattery, my lady." She tilted her head, studying the girl with gentle curiosity. "What brings you out in this cold?"
Rubiena flushed with pleasure at the praise, then seemed to remember something. Her expression shifted to dismay.
"Oh—you were resting, and I disturbed you. I'm so sorry."
"Not at all." Roenna waved a dismissive hand. "But tell me—do you enjoy books?"
The question landed like a stone dropped in still water.
Rubiena went pale. In one swift motion, she swept the book behind her back, as though hiding evidence of a crime.
"No."
The denial came too quickly, too forcefully.
"Oh dear—I didn't mean to frighten you." Roenna's voice softened further. "Forgive me."
Rubiena shook her head miserably, looking for all the world like a rain-soaked puppy.
"It's nothing. You can laugh at me if you want."
"Why would I ever laugh at you, child?"
"Because I showed that I love books." Her voice dropped to a shameful whisper. "Even though I'm supposed to be a proper lady..."
Roenna regarded her for a long moment, then leaned in slightly—conspiratorial.
"Lady Rubiena, when my daughter was your age, she spent her nights reading until the candles burned to stubs. She was *always* late rising in the morning. And she considered books her dearest friends—so much so that she repeatedly declined invitations to tea with other young ladies."
"Teacher Marin?" Rubiena's eyes went round with surprise.
"The very same."
"And that was... *allowed*?"
The question came out hopeful, almost desperate—as though she needed permission to be herself.
"I must confess, I worried terribly at first." Roenna's gaze grew distant with memory. "My daughter loved her books more than her peers. What mother wouldn't fret? But then..."
She paused, letting the moment build.
"Do you know how beautifully she reads aloud?"
"Yes!" Rubiena nodded so vigorously her curls bounced. "Yes, I know!"
"Just listening to her describe what she's read..." Roenna lowered her voice to a secretive murmur. "All my worries simply melted away. And I found myself wishing she would read even *more*."
Rubiena's eyes blazed with excitement now—twin stars in her small face.
"That's exactly how I feel! I love the way Teacher reads. I want to read just as well as she does someday."
"If you love books," Roenna said warmly, "you absolutely will. Tell me—would you do me the honor of reading to me?"
"*Really*?" Rubiena gasped as though she'd been offered a chest of gold. "I can read to you, madam?"
"I would be delighted."
"*Yes!*"
The girl plopped down on the bench beside Roenna without a moment's hesitation, opened her book, and—remembering how Marin had read to her—began to narrate slowly, carefully, savoring each word.
Roenna closed her eyes and listened, letting the sweet voice wash over her like sunlight.
---
## — Perido's Room —
Marin knocked softly on Perido's door.
"Yes, come in."
At the sound of Garnet's voice, she entered.
Perido's face lit up instantly. He scrambled off the bed, raced across the room, and threw his arms around her waist.
His lips moved eagerly: *"Teacher!"*
"Perido!" Marin hugged him back, then pulled away just enough to see his face. "Did you eat well today?"
*"Yes! I had two sandwiches. And a muffin too!"*
"Two sandwiches *and* a muffin? That's wonderful!"
"*Hmph.*"
The disdainful snort came from somewhere behind them.
Marin looked up. Garnet stood near the window, arms crossed, expression sour as curdled milk.
"Good day, my lady."
"*Hmph.*"
Garnet turned away sharply and snorted again for good measure.
And yet—despite her obvious dislike of Marin—she hadn't left Perido alone. She stayed, stubbornly keeping him company.
*It must be difficult*, Marin thought, *tolerating someone you resent for the sake of someone you love.*
She gave Garnet an internal point for effort.
"Perido, did you finish yesterday's assignment?"
*"Yes!"*
The boy darted to the small writing table and proudly presented a sheet of paper. Where before he'd only managed simple words, he was now learning to construct full sentences.
Marin read his careful handwriting aloud: "'I live in the Duke's castle.' Excellent work, Perido."
*"I want to go home."* His small hands moved as he spoke through silent lips. *"How do I write that? And 'I really miss my mom and dad'—how do I write that?"*
The long silence he'd endured had clearly been torture. Now that someone could understand him, words poured out in an unstoppable flood.
"Let's learn exactly those phrases today."
Marin smiled, careful to hide the pang of sympathy beneath warmth.
She settled into the chair beside him, wrote out the sentences he'd spoken, and watched as the boy traced each word with his eyes before copying them in his small, painstaking script.
From across the room, Garnet drifted closer—feigning disinterest, but clearly curious about what Perido was writing.
She glanced over his shoulder.
Her expression twisted sharply.
*The child already misses his parents—why teach him to write* these *words?*
She shot Marin a hard look.
"May I speak with you? Privately. Just for a moment."
"Of course." Marin turned to Perido. "Keep copying while I talk with your sister. I'll be right back."
*"Don't want."*
"He says: 'I don't want you to.'"
Marin translated Perido's words exactly, without softening them.
The boy narrowed his eyes and shot his sister a suspicious sideways glance.
Garnet stared down at him, looking genuinely wounded.
"Why not?"
*"Don't be mean to Teacher Marin."* His small lips moved rapidly, urgently. *"She's the only one I can talk to. If you're mean to her and she stops coming—what happens then?"*
Garnet's face crumpled. She looked at her little brother with helpless frustration and heaved a dramatic sigh.
"What did he say?"
"He asked you not to offend me." Marin kept her voice gentle but clear. "He's worried that you'll drive me away and I won't come back."
"No, Perido—don't worry." Marin crouched down and stroked his black hair tenderly. "Even if your older sister is being *difficult*, I'll still come to see you."
Garnet's eyes went wide.
*Why did they both immediately assume she was going to attack the teacher?*
*"Is that true?"*
Perido peered up at Marin, searching her face for any hint of deception.
"Of course it's true." She smiled. "Now then—shall we continue our lesson, Lady Garnet? Or did you still wish to speak privately?"
Garnet looked between Perido and Marin, visibly torn. Then she turned away with a sharp huff.
"*Hmph.* Do whatever you want. Carry on with your... business."
"Well then, Perido—your sister says everything is fine." Marin settled back into her chair. "Shall we continue?"
*"Yes!"*
His smile was the brightest she'd seen yet.
---
After the writing lesson, Marin read Perido a story.
The boy listened with rapt attention, eyes wide, completely absorbed in the tale.
But as she read, Marin's gaze lingered on his pale skin.
He was sleeping properly now and eating well—his cheeks had filled out, losing that gaunt, hollow look. But something still seemed... off. He spent too much time indoors. A child his age needed sunlight, fresh air, movement.
"Perido, shall we go outside?"
*"Why?"*
"There's a flower I love. I want to show it to you."
She could hardly say, "*Because you need vitamin D*," after all.
Perido glanced back at Garnet, seeking permission.
She nodded silently.
*So she's worried too*, Marin realized. *About him staying cooped up in this room all day.*
*"Okay."*
"Then dress warmly—it's quite cold out."
Marin wrapped a thick scarf around Perido as he stood, winding it so thoroughly that only his sweet face remained visible. He looked like a very small, very bundled caterpillar.
"Let's go."
She took his hand and led him from the room. Garnet followed a few steps behind, maintaining her distance but clearly unwilling to let her brother out of sight.
They left the outbuilding and walked for some time through the winter-bare grounds, their breath forming small clouds in the frigid air.
Finally, they reached the garden where the mandrelson grew.
The flowers seemed almost impervious to weather—thriving in poor soil, blooming even in the depths of winter. Small yellow petals arranged in layered rows, cheerful as captured sunlight.
*"Here?"*
"Mm." Marin smiled down at him. "This is my favorite flower right now."
She pointed to the mandrelson, its golden blooms nodding gently in the cold breeze.