Saturday morning, I head off to Lottie’s house as usual, Len accompanying me. Early as it is, the sun is already making things uncomfortably hot. I’m thankful my blue dress is cool to wear. Poor Len, though, I insist she comes in when we arrive, Lottie pouring a glass of cold water for her.

Enchantments really are world-breaking. What better way to have modern conveniences in a Victorian setting than waving your hand and mumbling something about magic, huh?

Once Len cools down, she says a quiet, “Thank you for the hospitality,” and begs her leave. I don’t want her to stay for anything else, so I politely wave her off and she goes back to the school.

Then I begin my lesson with Gwen. As always, it meanders around to meet her enthusiasm; there’s so much to learn that there really is no need to put it all in a neat line. We do start with biology, though. I mean, well, I kind of mix some sociology in as well? Citizenship? Like, if we need air to breathe, then we should also make sure to look after the air, right? Make sure we don’t just chop down all the trees and don’t burn things that will make us sick if we breathe the fumes. Water is a bit trickier since enchantments make pure water and “disappear” filth, but we need food and plants need water.

She’s very engaged with all this. Lottie has raised her to be compassionate, so this idea of personal and communal responsibility for protecting the environment resonates with her.

When it comes to the childcare part, well, I mostly just parrot “common sense” from Ellie’s world. For babies, sensory play that engages sight (colourful), sound (rattle and click and squeak), and touch (bumpy or otherwise textured surfaces), and also expose them to lots of foods for smell and taste. Build up that young brain with lots of experiences and the young body with nutrition and sleep.

Lottie listens to me say all that and I’m relieved she doesn’t interrupt me or appear to disagree with it.

However, this talk is harder for Gwen to follow, so I move down to games she can play with babies. Peekaboo, this little chestnut (no little piggies in this world) and a couple of other nursery rhymes that have actions to go with them.

Then it’s time for cooking. Today we go a little backwards, starting with dessert: rice pudding. While rice isn’t super popular, it is still cheap and readily available. I think it’s made with sugar in Ellie’s world, but, here, Lottie mixes the rice in a raspberry purée until it swells, then adding the milk. She brings it to a simmer on the stove, gives it a last stir, grates some nutmeg on top, and finally puts it in the oven to bake. It should take an hour to an hour and a half, done when the top is browned.

Lunch is something on the simpler side, a sort of pasta in white sauce recipe that’s bulked up by roasted nuts (making them soft) and with crunchy diced radish mixed in, finally a bit of watercress on top for garnish. A very warm meal, yet it seems to suit the warm weather well. Ellie did hear about spicy food being good in the heat as it made you sweat, thus cooling you down; maybe the same is true for radish.

There’s a bit of time before the rice pudding is finished, and a little longer still before the portions she spoons out are room temperature. However, it is very much worth the wait, the unusual pudding sweet and novel. I feel a smidgen of sorriness for Ellie, plain old sugar making for rather plain recipes compared to using fruits.

Then it’s time to go back to school, the three of us carefully walking in the shade of a parasol, pace slow. Even Gwen can’t keep up her chattering. Oh I wish my talent for water magic was better, maybe something like my hair drying spell possible for cooling down, but, well, that would probably require me to interact with Leo, or at least think about him. No, I might as well learn how enchantments work and make mini fans you can carry around. A much better idea.

Back at the school, I find a lack of friends in the lounge, so I wander to our picnic spot and find them there. A nice and relaxing afternoon.

Sunday morning starts the same, an early departure denting some of the summer’s strength. And I once again have Len come inside when we get to Lottie’s, but this time for more than just a cold drink.

“If you could join us for a little chat with regards to my dress exhibition,” I say to her.

“Of course, mistress,” she says quietly.

I smile. “Oh and if you could pass on what we discuss to a Miss Lizzy? Do you know her?” I ask.

It’s subtle, but I notice that she catches herself about to smile, her lips thinning a touch as she suppresses it. “I do, and I shall.”

“She will be my fourth model, so do be kind to her on my behalf,” I say with a certain knowing tone, seeing if I can push Len to break.

Unfortunately, she has recovered her mental balance. “Yes, mistress,” she says, no hint of humour to her.

Never mind.

There’s a quarter of an hour spent in idle chatter, Gwen focused on her sewing, before Iris arrives. At that point, I silently ask Lottie, “Is Gwen coming and does she know she is?” through the magical ability of pointed looks.

In response, Lottie nods twice.

Perfect, no need to dance around anything. Clapping my hands together, I draw the grown-ups’ attention, a soft smile on my face. “Thank you all for agreeing to be my models. As I have said, the exhibition will be over the afternoons this coming Friday and weekend,” I say, continuing on to confirm the details I previously told them.

I mean, all I really know is that Ms Berks will collect us (me included) from the room where my class has our art lessons at midday and that it’ll last until five o’clock. Still, I try to give the impression that I know what I’m doing, probably failing.

“Any questions?” I ask.

“Will socks and shoes be provided?” Iris asks, looking rather serious.

I think for a moment. “No.”

“Okay,” she says.

I take a deep breath and no other questions come.

“Wonderful. Then, I look forward to seeing everyone on Friday,” I say, bowing my head.

Len takes that as her cue to leave. As for the rest of us, we fall into the usual sewing lesson and casual chitchat. There’s a few more questions from Iris about the school layout itself, but otherwise it’s me and Lottie talking cooking—mostly what fruits and vegetables are coming into season.

When it’s time to go, Iris accompanies us to the school. Standing by the fence next to the side gate, I point out the few buildings we can see from here and also the general direction of where she’ll be going. Len will meet Lottie and Iris (and Gwen) here at the gate, so it’s out of Iris’s curiosity rather than necessity.

After I bid them a good day, I return to the dormitory to change. Then, rather than find my friends right away, I spend a half hour on Iris’s dress. (They’ll be relaxing now anyway, so it’s not like I’m skipping out on studying.)

Indeed, they’re reading letters when I go out and find them at the picnic spot, except for Violet who is reading a notebook. I say my hullos and join them, sitting to the side; by the warmth of the grass, the sun was shining here not so long ago.

My attention lingers on Violet. While everyone else has letters of good wishes for the exams from home, it’s no surprise to me that she’s perhaps not received one. I have one in my room—alongside one from Florence and one from Ellen to confirm that they will also be coming to see my exhibition—that arrived on Friday. Still, her parents might have sent her one, but I… don’t think so. Her body language isn’t right. The way she sits means her gaze won’t naturally fall on us, facing a little away, and she’s a little coiled, her shoulders a touch rounded. Small things she probably doesn’t even realise she’s doing.

Otherwise, I’m glad to see she has put on some weight. I mean, I can’t see most of her, but her face looks softer and her slender fingers look less bony. A small change, but I hope she notices it. After all, this is about her being more comfortable with her figure, right?

I pull my focus down to my book now I’ve had a good look. But really, I’m just staring at the page while I enjoy the pleasant weather, the wind cooler here than in town.

After a decently long while of listening to paper rustling and the odd sigh, the silence is broken by Helena. “Um, I’ve been thinking,” she says, sounding somewhat nervous.

“About what?” Jemima asks.

She fiddles with the hem of her sleeve. “Will we… have another sleepover? At the end of term, I mean,” she says.

I glance over everyone, seeing surprised but positive expressions. Whether because last time went well, or because she’s happier with her appearance, even Violet doesn’t look reluctant. “Oh that would be fun,” I say.

Jemima softly nods, but Belle is the next to agree, saying, “I suppose we could.”

“Yes, it would be fun,” Jemima says.

Helena breaks into a nervous smile, I guess feeling relieved.

As Violet hasn’t given an answer, I softly say to her, “Violet?”

She softly nods. “Last time was fun,” she says, more to herself than us.

Taking that as her agreement, Jemima happily claps her hands and moves on to the next question. “Well, where shall we have it?” she asks.

“Obviously in Nora’s room again,” Belle says.

I freeze, surprised, but Jemima and Helena quickly agree. Oh well, I don’t mind. “If that is what everyone wants,” I say, politely bowing my head.

So we go about discussing that for a while, covering things like how we’ll deal with the heat and what snacks to have. Like last time, Violet is a little reserved, but I would say she’s quiet rather than detached—definitely an improvement. Afterwards, we move on to talking about other things, sometimes falling into lengths of silence.

Somehow, we spend all afternoon here and only leave when the distant bell tolls for dinner. The evening is then spent studying before we retire to our rooms, where I do a spot of sewing and design doodling until bedtime.

Monday morning, it’s strange to wake up without anywhere to be. We’re now in a reading week, so there’s no lessons held, exams coming next week. I mean, reading weeks are supposed to be in the middle of term (at least going by what Ellie saw on her university timetable), but I’m not going to argue with a week off.

The day feels incredibly slow. I get ready quickly by habit, only to have to wait a good while for everyone to come down for breakfast, and then the morning drags on, textbooks even more boring when I read them for the second time. It’s not so bad going over my notes (or better yet, Violet’s notes), but there’s still a lot of memorising and I often just write down page numbers for those bits.

In the afternoon, I escape to the clubroom with a cleverly thought of, “I should see if Ms Berks would like my help preparing the exhibit.”

So I walk over, eyeing up the distant thunderclouds. Well, if it’s going to pour down, do it before the weekend—I’d hate for Lottie, Gwen, and Iris to have to come up here in heavy rain. When I get to the clubroom, I can indeed see her through the small window in the door. The door unlocked, I quietly enter and walk over to her, not saying a word.

She flips through her book for a couple more pages before lowering it, her finger keeping the page. “Tired of studying?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” I say. I’m not a good liar anyway.

“Very well. You can save me finding a maid,” she says, rising to her feet.

Huh. I haven’t swapped one taskmaster for another, have I?