For once, I wake up before the morning call from a maid. I don’t really feel like I’ve slept. What was I dreaming about? That’s slipped away already, I guess, all that’s left… a university? Ah, I’ve been thinking of Ellie’s world, so maybe I had an Ellie dream.

The chill in the air is rather harsh, a violent wind forcing the cold in. No chance I’ll fall asleep again. Going through the motions, I brush my teeth and bathe and get dressed for the day. A mild headache from the poor sleep. My fingers clumsily braid a strip of my hair to try and distract myself and pass the time.

It doesn’t really get light, but sunrise does come. The morning call. Calisthenics. Breakfast.

I’m sure I look terrible, yet no one says anything. With what Violet told them, I suppose they’re being polite, and I catch her concerned looks, her hesitation over whether to say anything. She’s been more careful with what she says in front of others these days, and there’s not really a way to politely tell someone they look terrible. I mean, she could ask me if I need to rest, but even that is suggesting I look like I need it and bringing attention to me, isn’t it?

Not that I care, but she does.

With the blustery weather, I don’t bring up the morning walk I suggested yesterday. As it is, we barely make it back from the dining hall, almost blown off our feet. I hope Ellen is fine, rather wispy for all that she ate when she visited.

While I’m stuck in my head, they talk and talk and talk. I’m getting a good feel for the group dynamic now, more so than when I was on the outside. Violet and Lady Minster are the sort that can bring out a conversation from thin air. And though I thought Helena was maybe an odd lady out (being a new addition to the group), she gets on particularly well with Lady Hythe. That’s not to say she doesn’t get on with the others; she seems happy enough talking to either of them.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that it’s a proper group of friends, not a clump where each person has one or two others they like and polite interest in the rest. Or maybe I can’t tell polite interest from friendship. I’m not exactly experienced with all this, you know.

What they’re saying, though, is lost on me. My headache has grown milder, yet it’s still hard for me to focus. I know they’re not really talking and that’s making my consciousness hazy. It’s not much different to class, struggling to pay attention to the teachers reciting meaningless words. In this case, the conversation is… clothes? Not quite.

“Oh that coat you had at our new year’s brunch, that would be perfect for this weather,” Helena says, her hands itching to speak along as she squeezes them to keep from, what, looking overly excited?

Ah, but, I suppose if they’re talking about things I wasn’t there for, it would be hard for me to follow. Let’s go with that as my excuse for now.

I’m left to my thoughts until it’s time to go to class. Usually, I’d already be there, beating the morning rush. However, this group prefers the comfort of sitting in the dormitory’s lounge. Fair enough. I don’t really mind, the rush not so bad when you’re in a group.

In the classroom, I split off to my seat with a, “Good day.”

They don’t say anything more than a, “And you.”

That’s… nice. Not having to explain myself, I mean. That they let me go off without asking me why, that’s nice.

Evan is already here and I greet him and he returns it, his gaze lingering on me, a slight frown coming to him. I know, I look terrible. Of course, he’s too polite to ask and too polite not to.

“Are you okay?” he whispers.

I flop onto my table, resting with the side of my head on my arm, looking at him. “Didn’t sleep well, that’s all.”

“Oh.”

Never had that problem, huh? Still, it’s nice to be asked that. Sincere concern. Violet’s worried looks were nice too, even if she didn’t say anything.

Not wanting the conversation to linger on this topic, I say, “It sounds like Ellen is getting on well with Lord Hastings’s sister.”

“It does?” he says, sounding mildly surprised.

I bite my lip a moment, the thought coming to me slowly. “She doesn’t write to you?”

He has a little laugh, but his heart isn’t in it. “Truth be told, she barely writes home at all, and that’s in reply to mother’s letters. She has only sent me one letter this year, which was after you first corresponded with her.”

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“Ah, I see,” I say.

“It sounds like you heard from her, though?” he asks, and there’s… an amused smile on his face. It reads like: Of course this woman who has met my sister once would know more than me.

Well, maybe, hard to tell his thoughts when it’s not really to do with me.

No reason to hide it, especially since he has guessed it, I say, “Yes, a letter arrived Friday. She said Florence has already started showing her how to knit and that she’s going to join the club. A few others things as well, but that’s just talk between ladies, books and such, you know.”

Even if he’s her brother, it’s no good to gossip, right?

His expression softens in the silence, staring at the edge of my desk rather than looking at me. “That’s good, then,” he softly says.

I watch him a little longer before I say, “You could send her a letter.”

His eyebrows rise a touch. “Pardon?” he says, and I know he’s not asking me to repeat but explain.

“I may be wrong, but I think she would be happy to hear from you.”

He deflates with a sigh, bowing his head. “Surely she would send me a letter first if she wished to talk.”

Ugh, this is getting complicated. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, refreshing my brain. “It’s like, um, my impression of her is that… she’s not good with people. She’s happy to just sit there and watch. But she looked so happy when I was talking to her, I think. Isn’t this the same?”

Rambling away, not a care in the world. Well done me.

However, my words are making him think, which I guess is good enough. I mean, he loves his sister and he’ll do the right thing once he thinks it over. “The right thing” might not necessarily be what I said, but that’s fine. I don’t want to be right, I just want Ellen and Evan to be happy.

The silence lasts nearly a minute before he finally says, “Well, it wouldn’t hurt.”

One of the things I like about him, his lack of ego. He’s willing to listen to me, think over what I said, and then come to his own conclusion—even if it’s different to what he previously thought.

That I scornfully glance at a certain prince at the front of the classroom has nothing to do with my current thinking.

Anyway, I give Evan a smile and then we settle into silence again. A comfortable silence. He looks down at something on his desk, and I close my eyes, hoping to quieten the remaining part of my headache.

Lonely. The word comes to me while I flutter on the edge of falling asleep. When I’m around Violet and everyone, there’s a different kind of loneliness than simply being alone. Having to pay attention to every thing said, to keep my expression pleasant, watch whoever’s speaking and react appropriately… is exhausting. Maybe it’s because I woke up tired and tomorrow it’ll be fine, I don’t know. At least today, I really prefer talking with Evan. Either we say something important, or it’s just a few light words here and there. A joke, a teasing, a pleasantry.

The day goes on.

I keep to myself for morning break, but join the group for lunch, trying to be more cheery and involve myself in the conversation when I can. Violet seems pleased by that. I hope I didn’t worry her too much. Helena helps somewhat, asking if I’ll be going to my club this afternoon (I say yes) and then Lady Hythe does what she does best, picking up the thread of conversation. What do I do there, who else is a member, she asks, and I answer honestly. Oh I can see in her eyes how badly she wants to ask more about Evan, yet it’s not exactly something spoken about in public.

Of course, I’m sure there’s plenty of rumours behind closed doors. Not that I’ve been eagerly watching, but I haven’t seen more than greetings between the lords and ladies here, yet I’m chatting away with Evan all the time and walking off with him at the end of some days.

In that regard, I do have a certain responsibility to him.

“Lord Sussex really is kind to indulge me. You can tell he has a younger sister and rather likes to dote on her, no?” I say, trying to put out the idea of a platonic relationship between us. “Trying” being the key word, this yet another area I’m not an expert in.

Whether it works or not, I’ll never know. Violet is the only one in the group whose reaction I can read well and I’ve already explained this to her before.

Afternoon classes, and then club. Cyril comes as well today; I guess he really did think it wasn’t on last week, not that I blame him. There’s otherwise little for me to say to him. Unlike Evan, I wrote to Cyril over the holidays (after he left), and nothing has really happened in the last week. I mean, I have “friends” now, but I don’t know if he knew I didn’t before, and he already saw me getting along with Violet. Things start to get weird when you think about what other people know, huh?

Well, whatever. He’s focused on his writing anyway.

Ellen’s birthday is still a few months away, so Evan isn’t starting on that just yet. For someone I sort of dragged here, he’s rather diligently practising, a scrap piece of fabric littered with his stitches. Even after I showed him how to use magic for it, he prefers to do it by hand.

A knock on the door.

“Come in,” I say loudly, and I scoot my chair over, readying the seat for Helena. After all, it’s her knock and no one else comes here.

And then someone who isn’t Helena says, “Pardon the intrusion.”

I stare for a moment, not quite believing, until Violet catches my eye and smiles. Entering the room, her gaze quickly flickers over everyone here. She prioritises greeting Ms Berks with a curtsey, before then Evan and Cyril.

“Lady Horsham reminded me of something someone said to me, and she also gave her recommendation,” Violet says, coming over to me with Helena in tow. “I believe you are familiar with using spirit magic to braid hair?”

Oh Violet, you’re putting on quite the show, aren’t you? Did I worry you that much? Ah, but you did say you’d consider coming here.

Helena excuses herself, I guess feeling like she’s done her job. As for Violet, I get her some lengths of thread and start working through the chant with her. Of course, she’s a fast learner, but her talent doesn’t look to be great. Good enough for fiddling with hair, not for sewing. Still, sitting next to her like this, it’s comforting.

After a while, I feel someone staring at me. My gaze darts about and, sure enough, I find Evan looking at me. His expression is rather warm, a soft smile—does he feel… oh, I’m smiling, aren’t I? He must feel relieved.

I guess I just needed some Violet time to cheer up, huh? How spoiled I am.