I curtsied. "Thank you, Viscountess Maidstone, for my education so far. I am honoured to be your pupil."

Elizabeth at least had the good grace not to laugh. She sniggered instead, and I ground my teeth. Meanwhile, mother clapped her hands and squealed, clearly holding herself back from hugging me tightly. And father grunted in approval.

"Oh, you're doing so well, Letty!"

"Ah, to see my daughter, taught by a prodigy, becoming a prodigy... We expect great things from you both!"

No. Please don't. We've still got another year and a half, according to her, to go, and plenty of time for me to disappoint yo-h, who am I kidding, I've been mostly tamed. I don't want to disappoint them. Mother may be an airhead, but she's almost the personification of sweetness, and thanks to my makeup lessons from mother, I can detect the bags under father's eyes. He works hard. His assistants work hard. And I've been helping him quietly behind the scenes, double checking the accounts books. Since it's day to day, it doesn't tire me out, but... It's the least I can do.

Still, Elizabeth curtsies herself, and smiles calmly. "I hope not to disappoint, Duchess and Duke Folstaff. Your daughter has been learning rapidly, and I expect her to be at my level within the next two years."

That's because you're a slave driver, Elizabeth. You're a god-damn slave driver, and if I never see you again, that will be too soon. But I'm still smiling, and-

"That was much better, I almost didn't catch that..." She's mouthing these words at me, not saying them, but... ARGH. I'M LEARNING, SLAVE DRIVER ELIZABETH, I'M LEARNING, DAMMIT!

This isn't to say the past year has gone badly. For all that I'm badmouthing her as a slave driver and a demon, we have had good discussions, and we do have some common ground. We're both driven to please our families, we're both in agreement that we're lucky to have the parents we do, we're both in agreement that the scummy nobles we've heard rumours about deserve a kick between the crotch and the ass (It's amusing that Elizabeth was the one to teach that this was the most painful place to kick a person. I wondered how she knew, but she never told me, only smirked.)

It's just a combination of our relative positions, and the fact we infuriate each other. She's rarely wrong, and I want to knock her down a peg or two.

For her own good.

Totally for her own good.

Definitely not because she's been shoving nigh 300 years worth of history into my brain this past year, among all the other things I'm trying to cram in there.

Definitely not.

Still... She's returning home for the Summer, and I...

"Still, it would be good for Duchess Leticia to meet people her own age, and form connections. Her debut is in four years, and it would be good to build up some social connections in that time."

Wait... An actually good idea! It's going to be awkward as anything, because, you know, six year old skin, 46 year old mind, but... Yes, socialising would do me good, on a variety of fronts. And. judging by those dazzling smiles, Mother and Father agree.

Oh, to be the inventor of sunglasses. Because I feel like I need them, sometimes. I look up at Mother. "I think that's a wonderful idea, I'll make sure to make lots of friends!"

"Oh, my cute darling, yes, we'll go over some names, and I'll help you write the invitations! Baroness Dylan gave me a lovely new recipe for a cake, and I'm dying to try it out!" She moved in for her signature choke hold, but father deftly held his hand to her shoulder, and his other to her hand. I breathed a quiet sigh of relief, and father winked at me.

Elizabeth curtsied again. "With your permission, Duke, Duchess, I shall take my leave to pack, if that would please you?" Mother sighed. She didn't want Elizabeth to leave yet, but father came to the rescue, bowing.

"Certainly, we look forward to your return, and wish you a safe journey. Do give my regards to Viscountess Maidstone the elder."

Another curtsey, and Elizabeth began walking past me to her room.

A smirk. A slightly sharp sensation in my palm, making me reflexively clutch.

A piece of paper? I turned to look at her retreating back, and pursed my lips. What was...

"Mother, can I return to my room as well?"

She nodded, and I hurried back to my room. Sitting on the couch, I unfolded the paper.

You owe me one. - E

A list of names. Names I should be inviting, presumably based on a combination of connection value and personality.

Well, I'd let her believe I owe her one.

After all, I'd already thought of nearly every name on this list.

I wasn't grateful that she was reaching out. I wasn't.

Okay, maybe I was. A little.