ㅤ
The girl leaned over my shopping list, one hand holding the page flat while she inspected it with an attention I wished she would apply to keeping Sir Flopsy out of the breakfast crumbs.
ㅤ
“You wrote biscuits twice.”
ㅤ
“One is for this week.”
ㅤ
“And the other?”
ㅤ
“Emergencies.”
ㅤ
“What kind of emergencies?”
ㅤ
“Running out of biscuits.”
ㅤ
She crossed out the second entry.
ㅤ
I looked at her.
ㅤ
“Your mother taught you that?”
ㅤ
“Mommy says we shouldn't buy everything we want.”
ㅤ
“Your mother is a duke’s daughter.”
ㅤ
She nodded, apparently seeing no contradiction.
ㅤ
“She says that's how you keep money.”
ㅤ
I looked at the figures in the margin. The guesthouse was paid through the end of the week, Mrs. Fenwick’s reduced childcare arrangement began today, and Halden’s wages would not arrive until the next payment day. She was right about the biscuits, inconveniently.
ㅤ
“Fine. What else should we change?”
ㅤ
She circled the eggs.
ㅤ
“More.”
ㅤ
“Your financial principles are remarkably selective.”
ㅤ
She handed back the pencil.
ㅤ
“Can we have them round tomorrow?”
ㅤ
“I'll consider the proposal.”
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
Mrs. Fenwick arrived shortly after breakfast with a basket of fabric scraps. On early-class mornings, she had agreed to collect her rather than make us cross the residential district twice.
ㅤ
“Good morning,” she said.
ㅤ
The girl appeared at my side.
ㅤ
“Did you bring the blue fabric?”
ㅤ
“The very blue fabric.”
ㅤ
“Sir Flopsy wants a cloak.”
ㅤ
“I thought he might.”
ㅤ
They had evidently made plans without consulting the person paying for the household soap.
ㅤ
I helped her into her coat and checked that her bag contained the picture book Marcus had lent her. She took Sir Flopsy from the bed and gave me a hug.
ㅤ
“Come home after class.”
ㅤ
“I will. I have work with Halden first, then a lecture. Mrs. Fenwick knows when to expect me.”
ㅤ
“Not too late?”
ㅤ
“If anything changes, I'll send word.”
ㅤ
She held out her little finger. I hooked mine around it.
ㅤ
Only then did she take Mrs. Fenwick's hand.
ㅤ
I watched them go, Sir Flopsy tucked beneath her arm. She looked back at the stairs, and I raised my hand until she turned the corner.
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
Evelyn wasn't in the practice chamber.
ㅤ
Five minutes remained before our session. Evelyn was usually early enough to inspect the equipment herself, and I had grown accustomed to finding her at station four before I finished unpacking.
ㅤ
I prepared station four and reviewed our last measurements. The revised activation sequence had held for nineteen seconds. Today, provided the result remained consistent, we were supposed to test a third spell.
ㅤ
At the appointed time, Halden entered alone.
ㅤ
“Lady Rosenfeld won't be practicing today.”
ㅤ
“Is she unwell?”
ㅤ
“No. An administrative obligation.”
ㅤ
He handed me a stack of examination reports.
ㅤ
“Since you're here, organize these.”
ㅤ
I looked at the papers.
ㅤ
“Is this part of my assistantship?”
ㅤ
“Do you want to be paid?”
ㅤ
“Yes, Professor.”
ㅤ
“Then start with the names. Alphabetical order.”
ㅤ
Years of defensive-magic practice had prepared me, apparently, to alphabetize names.
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
An hour later, I left Halden’s office with ink on my fingers and a clearer understanding of why his reports went missing.
ㅤ
The examination records had been filed beneath equipment requests. The equipment requests were mixed with correspondence. A folder labeled Urgent contained three blank sheets and a lunch receipt.
ㅤ
I had put everything in order. Keeping it that way would require authority I did not possess.
ㅤ
My next lecture wasn't until the afternoon, so I headed toward the commercial district. We needed soap, vegetables, and a replacement ribbon for her hair.
ㅤ
She'd shown me the loose thread on her old ribbon that morning.
ㅤ
“It's sad,” she'd said.
ㅤ
I'd promised to find a happier one.
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
The market was busy enough that I kept my shopping bag close. Students compared stationery prices, and delivery workers steered carts between the striped awnings.
ㅤ
I bought soap first. Then vegetables.
ㅤ
The ribbons were more difficult.
ㅤ
There were dozens. I knew she wanted blue; I did not know whether a six-year-old would prefer a clasp or a knot, or which would survive a morning with Sir Flopsy.
ㅤ
“Buying a gift?”
ㅤ
I turned.
ㅤ
Evelyn von Rosenfeld stood beside the stall.
ㅤ
A dark coat covered her academy uniform. Her silver hair was secured with a black ribbon, and a narrow document case rested beneath one arm.
ㅤ
“Lady Rosenfeld.”
ㅤ
“Adrian.”
ㅤ
Her gaze moved to the ribbons.
ㅤ
“You've been comparing those for a while.”
ㅤ
“It's an important decision.”
ㅤ
“Between hair ribbons?”
ㅤ
“The recipient has standards.”
ㅤ
“For whom?”
ㅤ
“A young relative.”
ㅤ
“How young?”
ㅤ
“Six.”
ㅤ
Evelyn picked up a pale blue ribbon and turned it over.
ㅤ
“This one has a covered clasp. It won't catch her hair.”
ㅤ
She showed me the underside. The ribbon I'd been considering had a small exposed edge.
ㅤ
“I hadn't noticed.”
ㅤ
“Most people don't unless they've worn one.”
ㅤ
I bought the blue ribbon.
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
We left the stall at the same time and found ourselves walking in the same direction.
ㅤ
“Halden told me you were reorganizing his office,” Evelyn said.
ㅤ
“He has an unusual filing system.”
ㅤ
“He misplaced the examination reports yesterday.”
ㅤ
“I found them.”
ㅤ
“Where?”
ㅤ
“Under a folder labeled ‘Examination Reports.’”
ㅤ
She laughed.
ㅤ
The laugh was brief.
ㅤ
“That does sound like him.”
ㅤ
I adjusted my grip on the shopping bag.
ㅤ
“I was going to ask whether your administrative obligation was related to the reception, but I assume you'd rather not discuss it in the street.”
ㅤ
“It's mostly seating arrangements and departmental introductions.”
ㅤ
“That sounds worse than reorganizing Halden's office.”
ㅤ
“It takes longer.”
ㅤ
“Then you have my sympathy.”
ㅤ
She glanced at me.
ㅤ
“I'll remember that when the next stack of forms arrives.”
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
At the junction near the bookshop, Evelyn slowed.
ㅤ
“Do you have time before your next class?”
ㅤ
“Some.”
ㅤ
“I found a problem with the mana distribution we tested yesterday. There's a reading room inside.”
ㅤ
I checked the clock. I could spare a short discussion without missing my lecture.
ㅤ
“All right. But I need to leave before the afternoon bell.”
ㅤ
“That should be sufficient.”
ㅤ
Inside, the reading room was quiet and smelled of paper and polished wood. Evelyn chose a table near the window and opened her notebook while I placed my shopping bag beneath the chair.
ㅤ
She'd identified a point where the barrier's maintenance channel overlapped the activation channel of the second spell.
ㅤ
“If we introduce a third structure here,” she said, indicating the diagram, “the interference will spread through both.”
ㅤ
“Then we shouldn't introduce it there.”
ㅤ
“That was my conclusion.”
ㅤ
I studied the drawing and suggested separating the channels earlier in the sequence.
ㅤ
Evelyn considered it, then drew a new connection.
ㅤ
“That would increase the initial mana cost.”
ㅤ
“Less than rebuilding the barrier after it destabilizes.”
ㅤ
“Possibly.”
ㅤ
We worked through two alternatives. The first demanded more mana than I could demonstrate myself. The second might work, provided we recalibrated the measuring crystal at station four before treating its readings as evidence.
ㅤ
I pointed that out.
ㅤ
Evelyn checked the equipment specification she'd copied into her notebook.
ㅤ
“You're right.”
ㅤ
“I know.”
ㅤ
She looked up.
ㅤ
I smiled.
ㅤ
“Sorry. I wanted to see what it felt like to say that.”
ㅤ
She shook her head and returned to the diagram.
ㅤ
“Don't make a habit of it.”
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
We ordered tea while finishing the calculations. Evelyn paid before I could reach for my money.
ㅤ
“Lady Rosenfeld, you don't need to—”
ㅤ
“You reviewed my proposal outside your assigned hours.”
ㅤ
“That doesn't require compensation.”
ㅤ
“Then consider it thanks.”
ㅤ
I accepted the cup.
ㅤ
“Thank you.”
ㅤ
She nodded and turned another page.
ㅤ
For a while we worked without speaking. She made corrections when she had them and left me room to make mine.
ㅤ
Eventually, she noticed the shopping list beside my notebook.
ㅤ
“Household supplies?”
ㅤ
“Yes.”
ㅤ
“Do you live alone?”
ㅤ
“Not at present.”
ㅤ
“With the relative you mentioned?”
ㅤ
My pencil stopped above the page.
ㅤ
“Yes. She's staying with me while I arrange things.”
ㅤ
“Your sister?”
ㅤ
“Her family situation is complicated.”
ㅤ
Evelyn glanced from my face to the list. I had not answered her question, and she was too observant to have missed it.
ㅤ
“All right,” she said.
ㅤ
She didn't ask again.
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
We left the bookshop with enough time for me to reach class. At the crossing, Evelyn glanced at the parcel in my hand.
ㅤ
“Does she like blue?”
ㅤ
“The ribbon? She asked for something blue.”
ㅤ
“Then I hope she likes it.”
ㅤ
“Thank you for helping me choose.”
ㅤ
Evelyn adjusted the document case beneath her arm.
ㅤ
“My mother used to check the clasps when she bought ribbons for me. She said a pretty one was useless if it hurt to wear.”
ㅤ
I remembered that the duchess had died before the novel’s main story began.
ㅤ
“She sounds thoughtful,” I said, keeping my voice quiet enough that she could leave the subject there.
ㅤ
“She was.”
ㅤ
Evelyn looked ahead, and I let the subject rest.
ㅤ
At the academy gate, she turned toward the administrative building.
ㅤ
“Bring the revised diagram tomorrow.”
ㅤ
“I will.”
ㅤ
“And don't let Halden file it.”
ㅤ
“I'll guard it with my life.”
ㅤ
“That's unnecessary. A separate folder will do.”
ㅤ
I watched her turn toward the administrative building, then checked the time and hurried to my lecture.
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
By the time I reached Mrs. Fenwick's house that afternoon, the girl had made a cloak for Sir Flopsy.
ㅤ
It was blue, slightly crooked, and fastened with a piece of string.
ㅤ
“Look, Daddy!”
ㅤ
I crouched to inspect it.
ㅤ
“He looks distinguished.”
ㅤ
“Mrs. Fenwick helped me sew.”
ㅤ
“Only the difficult parts,” Mrs. Fenwick said.
ㅤ
She spotted the parcel before I could put down my bag.
ㅤ
“What's that?”
ㅤ
“For you.”
ㅤ
She eased the paper open instead of tearing it. When she saw the ribbon, her shoulders lifted and she looked up at me.
ㅤ
“Blue!”
ㅤ
“Very blue.”
ㅤ
“Can you put it on?”
ㅤ
I had watched Evelyn examine the clasp. Unfortunately, watching someone choose a ribbon had not taught me how to put one in a child’s hair.
ㅤ
My first attempt caught a strand of hair.
ㅤ
“Ow.”
ㅤ
“Sorry.”
ㅤ
The second attempt sat at an angle. Mrs. Fenwick showed me how to gather her hair without pulling, then waited while I tried again. The third attempt held.
ㅤ
She hurried to the mirror.
ㅤ
“Do I look pretty?”
ㅤ
“Very.”
ㅤ
“Like Mommy?”
ㅤ
I looked at the blue against her dark hair and the crimson eyes she lifted toward me. I had seen Evelyn choose the ribbon with the same practical care my daughter attributed to her mother.
ㅤ
“Yes,” I said. “Like Mommy.”
ㅤ
She smiled at her reflection.
ㅤ
***
ㅤ
That evening, she drew herself wearing the ribbon beside a silver-haired woman. I appeared at the edge of the paper, holding a frying pan.
ㅤ
“Why am I over there?”
ㅤ
“You're making eggs.”
ㅤ
“Of course I am.”
ㅤ
She drew a yellow circle in the pan.
ㅤ
A perfectly round one.
ㅤ
I decided not to comment.
ㅤ
“Mommy likes blue,” she said.
ㅤ
“Does she?”
ㅤ
“It reminds her of something nice.”
ㅤ
I thought of Evelyn at the market, turning the clasp over in her fingers. She added a blue ribbon to the silver-haired figure and held up the drawing.
ㅤ
“Can you show Mommy?”
ㅤ
I kept my hand open for the drawing but did not take it.
ㅤ
“Not yet, sweetheart.”
ㅤ
“Why?”
ㅤ
“Because she doesn't know about you. When we tell her, we'll need to do it carefully.”
ㅤ
She lowered the paper to her knees. Her smile faded, though she did not look away from me.
ㅤ
“She'll know me.”
ㅤ
“I believe you remember her. But she hasn't met you here, and she may have questions.”
ㅤ
She looked at the silver-haired figure again, then laid the drawing carefully on the table.
ㅤ
“Can we keep it safe until then?”
ㅤ
“Of course.”
ㅤ
I placed it in the folder with her other pictures, away from my ink and academy reports.
ㅤ
She watched my hands until the folder closed without bending a corner.
ㅤ
Then she climbed onto my lap, bringing Sir Flopsy with her, and asked whether tomorrow’s eggs could be as round as the one she had drawn.
ㅤ
I told her I'd need more practice.