Later that week, Ana moved into Daphne’s room.

Perhaps it was her declaration. Perhaps it was the fact that it had been a few weeks since she’d first arrived in Medea - sufficient time for the Guard to vet her for her loyalty. Or for mental magic and corruptive effects, which Vernas assured her were more common than one might reasonably expect.

Perhaps the Manor rooms were all so terribly large, that Daphne had suggested Ana serve as an occupant out of sheer convenience.

But... Ana supposed the true reason might be because of something to do with Lady Everie herself. The heiress, after all, was an isolated figure. From what Daphne had quietly confided in her, it seemed many in the household worried she would always be.

Many noble scions were trained from birth to be full-fledged socialites, but the Dukedom of Medea was unique in the way it was technically still an independent state from the Kingdom of Azer Luceras. Thus, Lady Everie had been cloistered for the four-or-so years other noble scions - though perhaps in possession of far less wealth and power than she - would have already experienced playing and interacting with their peers.

When Daphne told her this, however, Ana had still found it difficult to understand why she was being elevated to such a high position. Certainly, Daphne had been training her as an assistant maid - even delegating some of the simpler tasks that came with caring for a ducal scion to her so she could gain some free time - but Ana was still just that: an assistant maid.

The answer to this very question came in a way that Ana did not expect.

It started with a notification from Daphne that the Lady of the Manor wanted to see her. That had taken a moment for Ana to digest; the only lady she knew was Mistress Everie, who she saw every day.

Then it struck her. The Lady Daphne was referring to was Duchess Briar - consort of Duke Medea Haswalth - and the second most politically powerful figure in the entirety of the Dukedom. Ana hadn’t gotten many chances to interact with the woman; she saw her briefly when first arriving with Lord Vernas at the Manor, and Ana thought she had seen the noblewoman frequenting the library with the head maid by her side. She hadn’t, however, been allowed as of yet into the Grand Hall, wherein the ruling family engaged in repast, which was where the Duchess made her appearances most frequently.

Otherwise, she was a rather clandestine figure. Which made it all the more curious why she wanted to see Ana of all people, even if she was an attendant-in-training to her daughter. Her bedroom was separate from the Lord’s, which was... unsurprising, given the rumors about their testy relationship Ana had inadvertently absorbed. Still, she hadn’t known exactly what to expect from the Duchess - she was a noblewoman from birth from the North-West of Azer Luceras, which naturally made Ana weary; that was close to where Alerich was, and where aristocratic corruption tended to fester most. The Claryryetts, whom Ana had heard Lady Briar hailed from, had been executed during the Purge. She doubted Lord Haswalth, who, from her brief observances, appeared to be a kind Duke, would marry a wicked woman - especially out of love, which as Duke of Medea he had the luxury of doing - but Ana was nervous nonetheless.

What she hadn’t been expecting was a veritable snowstorm of paper. Treatises hung off every loose surface of Duchess Briar’s bedroom, with entire stacks of paper and musty tomes teetering atop stuffed armchairs. The smell of ink permeated the room; the only other scent was of paper - but not a moldering smell, and moreso like freshly mushed pulp. It was as if a part of the Great Medean Library had been exported up two flights of stairs.

And behind her desk and nestled in the confines of a velvet stuffed armchair was Ana’s patron. Lady Briar, inspecting both a piece of musty parchment and a freshly-cut stack of papers, turned to look at her.

Head Maid Cherry was standing behind her. The older woman gave Ana a sharp nod, to which the ten year old blinked a nervous look of affirmation.

“I-” she stuttered. “I greet your ladyship.”

The Duchess narrowed her eyes, inspecting her, and Ana felt a great weight settle on her shoulders. It was vastly different from what Lord Vernas during their training sessions, and even what Duke Haswalth seemed to exude at all times. It spoke of a... softer power. Of intelligence, wit, and cunning.

Bookish though she may be, the Duchess of Medea was a threat. Her looks - pale skin like that of a porcelain doll, with midnight black hair and black-gold eyes - only supported that. Even her soft, aquiline features, which on any common-born would have implied a certain friendliness, did little to palliate that effect.

But then Duchess Briar smiled. It was not a large gesture; to the contrary, it was little more than a twitch at her mouth. But that alone - and the way her face stretched, revealing the woman’s obvious and thinly concealed enervation - was enough to break that ice-cold guise, revealing what lay beneath.

That was enough for Ana to trust this woman, because she was a woman. Not a faceless noble. Not some distant patron that the maidstaff served.

Duchess Briar was Lady Everie’s mother. And that had to count for something.

“Hello, Anabellum,” the Duchess said, softly. “Or is it Ana you prefer?”

Ana blinked, realizing that the Lady was waiting for her to speak. “Ah-! Yes, my lady.”

The Duchess chuckled. It was a nondescript, metallic sound, but it had the effect of relieving some of the ambient tension. “No need to be so nervous,” she said, before pushing the papers she had been inspecting to the side of her desk. Then, having made space, she put her shoulders on the mahogany work desk and laced her fingers together. “Not when you’re my daughter’s new maid-to-be, after all. I do hope Daphne is treating you well.”

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Behind her, Cherry snorted. “The brat is doing her best. Not that would amount to much, at least.”

Briar sighed, waving her off. “You’re always so harsh with your praise, nanny.” She accentuated the last word. “You do realize that Daphne is a comital scion? She outranks you, regardless of your prestige in the manor.”

“Petty things like noble hierarchy are hardly indicators of true strength and wisdom, my lady,” Cherry said, pursing her lips - but Ana could see the concealed smile, hiding behind the folds of her lips. This is an interaction they have often. “I was the one that raised you to know that, after all.”

The Duchess opened her mouth so as to speak, but then Cherry interrupted her. “But you shouldn’t leave your guest waiting, my lady. You were the one that requested her presence here, after all.”

Briar blinked. “I’m sorry,” she said, eyes turning to Ana - she couldn’t help but notice just how tired they looked. “You can sit down. Cherry will pour us both some tea.”

Gingerly, Ana climbed atop the velvet-covered stool that Cherry had positioned in front of Lady Briar’s massive mahogany desk. Sitting there gave her a clear view of everything that had been strewn around the Duchess’ desk; bottles of ink, treatises, and strange contraptions Ana knew had to be obscenely expensive.

It also quite literally put her on equal footing with the Duchess. Regardless of her imposing demeanor, Lady Briar was not a large woman. Tall, certainly, but nothing compared to some of the more physically active farmer’s wives Ana had seen strutting around Alerich.

That meant they were now eye-to-eye. Something Ana knew would be an unacceptable slight for the pedantically dangerous nobles of the area of Azer Luceras she hailed from.

“So,” Briar said, as she waved over Cherry - who was carrying a tray of china and a platter of pastries that simply smelled heavenly - “I don’t think you had the chance to answer my question. How has the manor been treating you?”

Ana swallowed. “It’s... everyone’s been so very accommodating, my lady,” she said. The trembles were still there, although they were subsiding. “It’s more than I could ever ask for.”

Briar quirked a brow. “You speak remarkably well for a child hailing from Alerich,” she mused. She pressed her index finger on the surface of her desk, dragging it back towards her - a tic? “I visited there once, you know? It was a beautiful city, aside from some of the... unsavory elements in the upper districts.” She wrinkled her nose.

Oh. Ana thought, blinking. I like her.

“It’s a tragedy what happened,” she whispered, sighing. “What the Count of Alerich did with the city’s Wardstone was a violation of every statute ever written imaginable.”

Ana clenched her fists. She hid them beneath the table, meaning the Duchess should have had no way to notice them. But somehow? Ana knew she had.

“Thank you, my lady,” Ana said, quietly. “It’s... relieving, to hear you say that.”

Briar gave her a sad smile. As if that were to reassure her. But it did, somehow.

“I... I’m no stranger to corruption myself,” the woman said, slowly. Her expression darkened; Ana twitched, but she didn’t shy away. It was clear the Duchess’ wrath wasn’t being directed at her. “I am a survivor of the Purge. I assume you know what that is?”

Ana nodded, wincing. There weren’t many that hadn’t been affected by the chaos caused by the ascension of King Elias of Luceras. The conflict had bordered on civil war; Ana had vaguely remembered her fathers and brothers being called to arms by the high-nobles of Alerich, long ago when she was but seven.

If by ‘survivor of the Purge’ Lady Briar meant what Ana thought she was implying... that was more than enough to garner Ana’s sympathy for her.

Aristocrats are humans, too. They can be hurt. They can bleed. They can be wounded.

Ana blinked. And some of those wounded... will be innocents.

Briar gave her a pained smile. “I won’t elaborate,” she said, “but I want you to know, Ana, that you aren’t alone in your struggle. In fact, I daresay your path is one that has the greatest reinforcement supporting it. If you ever need help...”

She trailed off. “Well,” she said, “I can’t hope to understand you, but know that any member of the staff, or the family, will be here for you,” the Duchess said. “You are not an outsider. Not in Medea, at least.”

Ana felt something clogging her throat. She tried to get rid of it discreetly, but it wouldn’t budge.

She hiccuped.

“Thank you, my lady,” Ana murmured. There were tears, too, beading at her caruncles, but she quickly blinked them away.

She took a sip of her tea. It was... good. Textured. Older - as if so much more effort had been poured into it. Much better than Daphne’s, at least. It almost felt like a betrayal; the older girl’s tea was some of the best that Ana had ever tasted, and she was her teacher, after all. But-

“I have a wealth of experience beyond that brat’s,” Cherry grumbled. But she was smiling. Ana, however, flinched.

How did she know what I was thinking?

“It’s all practice, child,” she said, thinly. “As far as I’ve seen, you’ve acclimated significantly to the going-ons of the estate. And you’ve even befriended the young miss, like we suspected you would.”

Ana blinked. “Lady Everie and I-”

“-are friends. Partners. You may be seven years apart in age, yes, but all three of us in this room know regular parameters don’t exactly seem to apply to powerful nobles. Everie is especially special in that regard, yes - being descended from the bloodline of one of the greatest Heroes, after all.”

Briar spoke. “My daughter has been isolated from birth. Had you not arrived at the manor so fortuitously, I would have been forced to...” she paused. “Well, I’m not certain what. But Daphne has told me Everie seems to think she’s failed in her studies, which-”

Cherry barked, “Is absolutely ridiculous. She’s a child, not a soldier or scholar.”

“-so I’m glad you’ve been such a good influence on her,” Briar said, smiling. She looked straight at Ana, who felt herself being lost in those awfully perceptive eyes of hers.

“Take care of her, will you?”

Whatever preconceptions she’d possessed about the Lady of the House had been quite thoroughly shattered. I certainly didn’t expect our meeting to go like this. But... why am I surprised? Medea has been nothing but kind to me.

There was no reason to doubt the Duchess would be any different.

It was a small miracle that Ana managed to summon the strength to respond. She felt... emotional.

“Yes, my lady.”