After everyone leaves, Violet and I spend the afternoon recovering in the garden. While she’s not very artistic either, we sit and paint the apple blossoms, idly chatting. We talk about things that happened today and I press her for details on who exactly planned what.

“I received a letter from your mother towards the end of February,” she says, able to speak and paint without a problem. “She… wanted to have something of a belated birthday party for you. I wouldn’t exactly say I contributed to it at all; however, we did correspond a little, and I gave my input on the plans.”

Smiling, I softly say, “I see.”

I’m glad it wasn’t a birthday party—being the centre of everyone’s attention would have really stressed me out. Just having everyone here together was enough for me. God, my debut is going to be awful. I wish my mother (and Clarice) would let me turn up looking hideous. All those young lords staring at me… ugh. It’s not like people can actually get to know each other at a ball, conversations required to be as vapid as possible, right?

My thoughts getting sidetracked, I focus on my painting again.

As the lunch was rather filling, dinner is rather light today. Then, before it gets too dusky, Violet returns home. Over the rest of the evening, I try not to think about her parents. There’s no point getting depressed because of something I have no control over.

Sunday is a calm day of rest. Cyril visits Julian (Evan also in attendance) for lunch, and will heading back to his manor this evening. I’m not sure why—all he told me was his father requested him. Clarice goes to prepare for an event with her friend, while my mother and father accompany Joshua to see his friend (I am spared as there aren’t any daughters there).

It’s strange that eating alone sometimes feels numbingly lonely and, at other times, so very relaxing. I get to choose my meal and when to have it and have it in my room. But I remember my last meal at school, that lunch that felt so lifeless without my friends. So quiet.

The next day, I head off to Lady Ashford’s townhouse. Although Trissy was going to invite me over to thank me for her improved maths grades, somehow I ended up being invited to Lady Ashford’s to see Trissy there… or something. I mean, I don’t mind. My impression of Lady Ashford is good and I don’t have any reason to dislike the third friend of the trio: Lady Wye. Unless I don’t recognise her, I don’t think she went to Queen Anne’s either. (Of the three, I think only Lady Ashford went there.)

It’s not a long trip, the roads always clear and houses crammed in tight. Well, that’s the reason everyone comes to Lundein for the social season, isn’t it? Based on the area and size of the townhouse, Lady Ashford’s family has some history I don’t know; her father is only a baron, so I expected either something smaller or a less prestigious part of the city.

I arrive just as the nearby bells toll for two o’clock—my invitation today for a tea party. Liv is accompanying me, and she helps me down, does a final check that my makeup or hair or clothing hasn’t been disturbed in transit. With her approval, we approach the door and she knocks. A carriage arriving hardly subtle, the door opens near instantly.

The butler invites me inside and takes my scarf (handing it to a maid who actually hangs it up) before presenting me to Lady Ashford’s parents. Like I normally do, I think of them as Baron and Baroness Ashford, but they are addressed as Lord and Lady. Lady Ashford (the daughter herself) would normally not be presented as Lady, being the daughter of a baron, but she is granted the courtesy of it as her father has no sons or an older daughter, thus the heir. (Same situation with Violet as Lady Dover.)

Anyway, at Queen Anne’s, we were taught that (outside of formal letters or formal introductions) we should always refer to unwed noble daughters as “Lady” with the presumption they will marry into the title. Of course, if she weds an untitled man, then she should be addressed as Mrs.

Etiquette aside, I fall into practised habit and properly go through the ritual of greeting other nobility. Fortunately, they don’t drag it out, Lady Ashford soon leading me through to the parlour.

As expected, Lady Wye and Trissy are there. The room itself is fairly large, sort of broken into two parts: a tall dining table (suited for tea and snacks) with six chairs around it, and then a round table by the window with just a pair of chairs; a gap separates these seating arrangements. The décor is flowery (as is the current style): a cream or pale yellow wallpaper patterned with somewhat faded flowers and their stems, and the purple upholstery on the chairs has embossed or embroidered (hard to tell by sight) flowers silhouettes, and even the matching rug has a leafy pattern; dark wood, maybe stained, completes the natural aesthetic with an elegant contrast.

The others already at the tall table, we join them there. “This is Lady Wye, and of course you are familiar with Lady Brook,” Lady Ashford says, gesturing at them as she speaks. “This is Lady Kent.”

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” I say to Lady Wye, before looking at Trissy and saying, “Good to see you again.” The latter is a bit of an informal greeting, but I feel it’s okay. Just us young ladies here and Trissy is my friend.

No one seems to mind, Lady Wye returning my greeting, and Trissy smiles brightly as she says, “And you.”

I sit next to Lady Ashford, but the chairs are spaced apart and slightly angled, giving the feeling of sitting in a circle; by looking at Lady Wye (who is diagonally opposite of me), I can easily see Trissy and Lady Ashford. But I’m a little surprised to see everyone with polite smiles. A gathering of friends, I thought they would be in better spirits? It reminds me of what Violet said after the tea party with Florence and Ellen. I haven’t really got experience, so maybe this just is how it’s supposed to be.

Things start off normal enough, Lady Ashford asking how the trip here was, and then she arranges teas to be served. While we wait, Lady Wye asks me, “Have you been busy this break?”

“Well, my sister is debuting… is it next or the week after? We have attended or hosted events near enough every day in preparation,” I say.

Trissy still doesn’t say anything, though, which I find strange. Shouldn’t she be more comfortable speaking around her friends? I put the thought aside for now, continuing with the small talk that simply must be made. Even if it’s not that interesting, just talking is nice, and I gradually relax.

Our teas are served and I take a small sip to taste min; it’s okay. Not in a bad way, but what I’d expect served. The chatter dies down while we drink, which gives me time to sort of process the situation, try to understand more of what’s going on.

Did Lady Ashford mean anything by how she introduced me to Trissy? She said I was “familiar” with Trissy, didn’t she…. Did Trissy tell her friends about that evening she visited me? She probably did, close to both of them. Although Lady Ashford seems nice, it’s more that she’s personable and sociable, and I’m reminded she seemed a bit gossipy at times, asking me about Leo and Evan, and the sort of talks she had with Lady Challock in water magic class.

With that in mind, she probably thinks poorly of me. I am judging her a bit, but gossipy people are usually judgemental themselves, you know? By our high-class standards, I did act weirdly and inappropriately.

Yet I wonder if that’s all it is. She likes Trissy, so maybe she’s just upset on Trissy’s behalf? Or maybe jealous? I don’t know what exactly Trissy told her, so I can’t easily guess what reaction Lady Ashford would have had. But I do know Trissy and Lady Wye are in the same class while Lady Ashford is in a different one, and the three years prior she attended Queen Anne’s while Trissy and Lady Wye went elsewhere. If she already felt like she was losing her best friends, how would she feel when someone new came along and acted overly familiar with Trissy?

My imagination is probably getting the better of me. Fortunately, the conversation picks back up, so I stay focused on the present.

However, I do think my initial impression was right. Lady Ashford is overly polite to me (which is a way of highlighting the distance between us); I think Lady Wye knows this and knows why, speaking to me more normally. Trissy, I guess, doesn’t know what to do.

Well, it’s hardly my first time in a hostile social environment. I can sit and smile and sip tea and nibble snacks no problem.

There’s not much I can do, so I go along, falling into old habits. I give careful answers and second-guess myself and refrain from asking questions. Even if Trissy is my friend and Lady Wye seems sympathetic or otherwise friendly towards me, it’s still sort of three-on-one, pressuring me.

But a moment comes where I properly see Trissy’s hairstyle. Rather than braids, her hair is held in place by a few ribbons and a pair of hair clips; three ponytails near the top of her head are pulled into one at the back, most of her black highlights tucked at the bottom. “Lady Brook, you like that way of having your hair?” I ask her.

She brings up a hand to her shoulder, touching her hair, before catching herself. A shy smile comes to her as she slightly lowers her head, making it seem like she’s looking up at me. Oh she’s too cute. “I do,” she says quietly.

I nod, and then ask, “Are those hair clips special to you?”

She hums a note, lifting her hand to feel one as if she’s forgotten what ones she’s wearing. “I quite like them… but I wouldn’t say they are special?”

“It’s just that, when dressing up nicely, you would normally try to match your accessories. Although the pearls are pretty, they usually go with white ribbons, maybe a pearl bracelet or necklace as well, and pair it with a dress that is a strong purple or vibrant green or, if you’re brave enough, a striking red.”

Oops, got into a bit of a monologue. I smile to try and soften my presence.

“My mother likes to wear pearls, and that’s what I have noticed about her outfits,” I say. That is true, but Clarice has also taught me a decent amount and Ellie’s fashion knowledge isn’t only relevant to her world.

Trissy has nodded along the whole time. “Oh, I didn’t know,” she says, showing a little embarrassment. “It always sounds so complicated… whenever anyone mentions fashion.”

“I know, but one only has to take as much interest as one wishes,” I say, pulling back to a more formal manner of speaking. “After all, a man hardly chooses a wife by her fashion sense, does he?”

She and Lady Wye giggle, and I smile. Focused on Trissy, I can’t see Lady Ashford, and I don’t want to glance over right now.

Despite what I said, or maybe because of what I said, Trissy warms up and asks me a bit more about current fashions. Lady Wye includes herself as well, and I mostly forget Lady Ashford is even here until she changes the topic to schooling.

When it comes time for me to leave, I feel like it could have gone worse.