My neck hurt when I woke. A small hand rested on my knee.
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I'd fallen asleep in the chair beside the bed sometime after midnight. The girl had rolled toward the edge, one arm stretched out from under the blanket. Sir Flopsy lay facedown by my feet. I put him beside her, and she opened an eye.
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“Morning, Daddy.”
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“Morning.”
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“Did you sleep there?”
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“Apparently.”
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She looked at the empty space beside her. “You could've slept here.”
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“I wasn't sure you'd leave me enough room.”
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“I would.” She moved Sir Flopsy onto the pillow, clearing a space barely wider than the rabbit.
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I thanked her and put water on the stove.
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Breakfast was bread, fruit, and the last honey biscuit, divided between us. She watched me prepare it.
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“Where's the egg?”
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“We don't have eggs.”
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“Daddy makes eggs. With cheese.”
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“Future Daddy must have a better kitchen and budget.”
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She considered her plate, then began eating. “I like this too.”
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“You don't have to pretend.”
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“I'm not. Can we have eggs tomorrow?”
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“I'll see what I can find.”
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While she ate, I washed yesterday's cup and considered the guesthouse. A child could stay there with a relative. I could say truthfully that she was family, even if I couldn't explain how.
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The dormitory supervisor would be harder to satisfy. Bellamy had a talent for discovering what students preferred to hide. She'd once found a lizard in a wardrobe during a routine inspection, though its owner insisted it hadn't made a sound.
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“Could you call me Adrian when we're outside?” I asked.
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She lowered her bread. “Why?”
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“People here don't know I'm your father. If you call me Daddy, they'll ask questions before we know how to answer.”
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“But you are.”
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“That's what we're trying to understand.”
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“Mommy said not to tell people about the future.”
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“She was right.”
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“Can I call you Daddy when we're alone?”
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“Of course.”
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“And if I forget?”
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She sounded worried rather than argumentative. “I'll remind you. Quietly.”
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We left after most students had gone to class. I carried her bag and Marcus's copy of Veyr; she carried Sir Flopsy. We reached the residence entrance before someone stopped us.
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“Adrian.”
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Professor Bellamy stood beside the notice board, clipboard under one arm. Her gaze moved to the girl holding my hand.
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“Who is this?”
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“A relative. She arrived unexpectedly yesterday evening.”
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“What relation?”
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I should have prepared for that. “She's in my care for the moment. I'm taking her to the western guesthouse.”
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“Was she in the student residence last night?”
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I could have lied, but Bellamy would have asked where she'd stayed. “Yes, Professor. It was late, and I had nowhere suitable to take her. I'm arranging that now.”
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“You know the regulations.”
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“I do.”
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Bellamy looked down at the girl. “Have you had breakfast?”
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“Yes. But Daddy didn't make eggs.”
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The girl pressed her lips together. A moment too late.
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“Daddy?” Bellamy repeated.
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“It's a complicated family situation.”
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“I gathered that.” She made a note. “Find proper accommodation today. Then come to my office and explain the arrangements. I won't have a child left alone in a student room while you're in class.”
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“She won't be.”
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“See that she isn't.”
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Outside, the girl stared at the paving stones. “I forgot. Are you mad?”
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“No.” I crouched beside the fountain. “Bellamy needed to know you were safe. I should've spoken to her first.”
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“Can I still call you Daddy?”
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“Yes. Other people just don't understand yet.”
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She handed me Sir Flopsy. “He gets worried too.”
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I carried him to the western gate.
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The Royal Academy Guest Residence stood behind a garden, ivy climbing its stone walls. Inside, a woman looked up from a ledger.
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“I'm looking for a room for myself and a child,” I said. “Marcus Vale said you accommodate students' families.”
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“When space permits. How long?”
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“A week to begin with.”
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She found a small family room with two beds, a private washroom, and access to the downstairs kitchen. Forty-two silver per week, paid in advance. Breakfast cost extra.
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I had expected it to be expensive. I'd hoped to be wrong.
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“I'll take it.”
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She brought out a registration sheet. “Your name?”
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“Adrian.”
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“And the child's?”
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I hesitated. The girl looked over. “Mommy said—”
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“I know, sweetheart.” I asked the receptionist if we could speak privately, keeping the girl in sight. I explained that she'd arrived unexpectedly, that I was responsible for her, and that I couldn't yet provide everything the form requested. I left out time travel.
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“For today, I can register her as your dependent,” the woman said. “I'll need her details if you stay beyond the week. And you mustn't leave her unattended. This isn't a nursery.”
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“I understand. Thank you.”
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I paid from my savings. The future coins stayed wrapped in a handkerchief at the bottom of my bag. I wasn't ready to hand a cashier money stamped with an impossible date.
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Our second-floor room had two narrow beds, a table, a wardrobe, and a window overlooking the garden. The girl chose the bed nearest the glass and placed Sir Flopsy on its pillow.
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“That's mine.”
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“All right.”
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“Yours is far away.”
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“It's across the table. We can move it if you need me closer.”
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She nodded, satisfied, and asked to visit the garden once I'd unpacked.
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I sat with my expense notebook. Forty-two silver for a week. Food, laundry, clothes for a child who'd arrived with one dress and a few belongings. Childcare during classes. I crossed out this month's savings target, then next month's.
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“Are we poor?” she asked, climbing onto the chair beside me.
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“We have enough for now.”
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“You keep counting.”
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“Because I'd like us to keep having enough.”
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“Mommy has money. Why don't we ask her?”
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I closed the notebook. “Your mother doesn't know me yet.”
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“She will.”
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“And she doesn't know you. I believe you, but she won't understand if we walk up and tell her you're our daughter.”
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The girl rubbed Sir Flopsy's repaired ear. “Mommy said you wouldn't tell her straightaway.”
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“Did she?”
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“She said you get careful when you're scared.”
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“Scared of her?”
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“No. Scared something would happen to us.”
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I looked out at the gardener clearing leaves from the path. “Did she tell you how we met?”
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“You helped her.”
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“With what?”
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“She was sad.”
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It was the same answer she'd given before. I didn't press for details she might not know.
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“Was she alone?”
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The girl nodded. “She said you stayed.”
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I'd seen Evelyn crossing the courtyard with other students. I'd assumed a duke's daughter with her talent had more company than she wanted. I knew nothing about the people she trusted.
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“Shall we see the garden?”
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She took my hand before I'd stood.
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Marcus arrived that afternoon with food and a folded blanket. He inspected the room and whistled at the weekly rate.
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“Forty-two? Does the table come with a title of nobility?”
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“Don't insult it. It's the only thing separating our beds.”
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“Uncle Marcus!” the girl called from the window.
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He waved and unpacked bread, cheese, and fruit. “My aunt sent too much again.”
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“Your aunt doesn't live in the capital.”
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“No, but I do. I bought it.”
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“You didn't have to.”
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“I know.”
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I put the food away. Marcus watched me.
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“How much have you got left?”
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“Enough to manage for a little while. I've made a new budget.”
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“All right. What about classes?”
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I told him Bellamy's instructions. The guesthouse manager knew a nearby caretaker who sometimes watched visiting researchers' children, but I hadn't spoken to her yet.
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“I can stay with her tomorrow morning,” Marcus said. “Training doesn't start until noon.”
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“You have your own work.”
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“And tomorrow morning I have time.”
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The girl appeared beside him. “Can we go to the garden again?”
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“See? Already employed.”
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“She can't pay you.”
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“I'll negotiate with Sir Flopsy.”
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He took her downstairs while I unpacked.
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They returned with a leaf tucked behind her ear and dirt on Marcus's sleeve. Neither explained. We ate together, then moved the table so my bed could stand nearer hers if she woke during the night.
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“I need work between classes,” I told him.
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“Tutoring notices near the library. Or Halden might know someone who needs help with defensive magic.”
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“He already gave me an extra exercise. I don't want every conversation to become a request for a favor.”
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“Ask whether he knows of openings. That's different from asking him to hire you.”
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“Maybe after the irregular test.”
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Marcus left before evening study hours, promising to return in the morning.
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The girl was sleepy early. I helped her wash and gave her a clean shirt of mine, rolling up the sleeves.
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“It's too big.”
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“You'll grow into it eventually.”
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“Will I?”
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“Probably not before tomorrow.”
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She climbed into bed with Sir Flopsy. “Will you meet Mommy soon?”
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“I might have to.”
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“Good. You always say you wish you'd met her sooner.”
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“Do I?”
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She nodded. I stayed until she slept, then returned to Veyr. Marcus had drawn across an entire margin; at last I understood the author's explanation of overlapping layers. I copied the diagram into my notebook and checked the date of the imperial reception.
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Three days away.
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A knock came before I put out the lamp. The attendant handed me an academy envelope addressed to Student Adrian. Inside, the Department of Defensive Magic instructed me to report to Halden's office tomorrow morning, before my first class. The only explanation was a reference to the reception.
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He might want to discuss its protective formations. The department was helping prepare them, and he'd shown interest in my technique. I read the notice again anyway, then placed it inside Veyr's book.
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“Daddy?” the girl murmured.
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“I'm here.”
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“Who was it?”
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“Someone from the academy.”
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“Okay.”
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I had a room for the week, food in the cupboard, and a plan for tomorrow's classes. It wasn't the life I'd been working toward, but she was asleep and the window didn't leak.
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For tonight, that was enough.