"Ow ow ow ow ow!"

My head blazed with pain. Again. Couldn't you have at least saved me a second hangover, Goddess? Anyway, how old am I-

"Urk!"

"Oh, my poor baby, are you hurt? Tell mommy what's wrong!"

"Gak, ghk, I'm..."

Wait, crap, memories, memories, what did I say when I had an ouchie before I remembered myself?

Oh.

"Mama, please, I can't... Ghk! Breathe!"

Released from that soft darkness, I looked up at my mother, who at least had the grace to look ashamed for burying my face in that cleavage. Again. According to my memories, if father had been here, he would have intervened immediately, but when he was away (often), I had to fend for myself.

After all, there weren't any maids who wanted to question, let alone "dared" to question, the woman known as The Duchess Of Smiles.

To be fair, it was an accurate monicker, as her smile really was warm enough to melt the coldest heart. But...

"I'm okay, mama, I just had a brief headache. Are we having shortcake again today?"

Cupping one cheek in her palm, looking sideways, mother hrmed contemplatively.

"Well... We are, and tea also, but we're not going to be alone like we usually are."

Thank the Goddess. She's a beautiful woman, and caring, but... Stiflingly so at times. That wavy auburn hair concealed about three brain cells, and I could almost hear all of them say "Ara!" in chorus. Still... This wasn't common. Normally mother would defend teatime with her daughter to the death.

"Oh? Does mama have an important guest?"

Mother blinked rapidly, before unleashing that dazzling smile. "Oh, no, Letty dear... You're five years old, and do you know what that means?"

I didn't, actually. This is maybe a good time to sort out my memories.

Okay, Leticia Folstaff, five years old. Currently blonde, but unlikely to remain so, mother called Arina, big muscular father called Jonathan (Oh god, he belly laughs...) Good family, good position, well liked, even handed... Oh.

Oh.

I had a sinking feeling, so I put on my best puppy eyes and asked the question I really didn't want the answer to.

"Am I... Are we meeting a tutor, mama?"

Picking me up and whirling me round (Gack!) she laughed sweetly. "Yes! My baby's finally grown up enough to take her first lessons!"

Outwardly, I was all smiles and "Yay!" the picture of a good child.

Inwardly, however?

DAMN YOU, YOU SHITTY GODDESS, COULDN'T WE HAVE MAYBE SKIPPED THIS PART?!?!

I pretended to smile and appreciate mother's embrace on the way to the parlour, seething the entire while...