"You're awfully quiet today," said Gisela (L/N) as she pulled the baby blue thread through her embroidery pattern. She peered at (Y/N) through her long lashes with a barely-noticeable smile dancing on her lips. "Planning your next great escape?"

(Y/N) blinked away the sting of her eyes and tried to push her thoughts to a far corner of her mind. "What?" She dropped her gaze to her own embroidery pattern. "No,"

The cherry wood clock nestled in the corner of the room read half-past eleven. Thirty minutes before (Y/N) was allowed an hour to do as she pleased and thirty minutes after she had sat in the drawing-room with her sister to sew. She poked her needle through the cloth with shaking hands.

"Well, you've hardly done any sewing, so you have to be thinking about something." Gisela's eyes sparkled as she regarded her sister again. "Or someone..."

(Y/N) hadn't so much as glanced up before Gisela pressed again.

"Don't think I haven't noticed that bracelet of yours."

It was not unlike Gisela to miss the obvious, so (Y/N) was not nervous that she might be perceptive enough to realize she was upset. She was conservative in that way, for she believed that there was not much on a woman's mind besides her latest romances.

"It's a gift from a friend," (Y/N) answered softly. She accidentally stuck herself with her needle.

"Please." Gisela placed her stitchwork on the end table and folded her small, dainty hands into her lap. Sunlight passed through strands of her hair as she leaned forward. "The same friend you snuck out to see. Not to mention that you were gone all day! And don't think I don't know a gift from a boy when I see one."

(Y/N) blinked dumbly at her older sister. She moved her eyes around her frame – feet first (Gisela often wore new shoes) then her dress. Her hair was as it always was and she wore the necklace their mother gave her weeks ago. But– "That ring," said (Y/N). That was new. "Is that not a gift from a boy?"

Her left hand flew to cover her mouth and the diamond on her finger reflected the light right into (Y/N)'s eyes. Gisela glanced over her shoulder at the empty door frame as she leaned closer to her, dropping her voice low. "No one's supposed to know yet."

Bullshit, (Y/N) wanted to say. "Then why wear the ring?" she asked instead.

She relished the way her sister's face flushed and her back straightened. She was embarrassed; rightfully so, (Y/N) thought. Retribution for prying.

She was not cruel enough to force her sister to admit that she'd wanted (Y/N) to ask her about the allegedly secret ring. Instead, she began sewing again to hide her smile. "Dimitri proposed, then?"

Gisela stiffly cleared her throat. "Yes," she answered. She smiled.  "I wanted to wait until Nikolaus came home to tell everyone at dinner."

(Y/N) nodded. Niko's dinner. "That would have been the perfect time."

She did not take note of her sarcasm. "I thought so, too. I mean, Papa won't be working, Nikolaus will be home, Dimitri will already be here... There's no better time."

"Surely, not,"

"You should invite your friend." Gisela tried to make it sound like an afterthought. "The one who gave you the bracelet."

(Y/N) read once about a phenomenon called karma. She was certain that was it.

"He wouldn't be interested in something like that."

It was one of her worst lies; no boy would be foolish enough to turn down an invitation from the (L/N)'s. Everyone knew the power they held in Marley, rivaled only by the Tybur's. Yet even then, the (L/N)'s always held a higher station in the public's eyes; they weren't Eldian.

Like (Y/N) was never good with lying, Gisela was never very astute, so she didn't think twice about what she said. Still, Gisela was known for nothing if not her persistence. She pressed the matter again.

"Still, you might as well try. I don't see any harm in asking."

(Y/N) hadn't figured out what to say when there were two soft knocks at the doorway. Gisela straightened at once and (Y/N) turned in her armchair to see their father standing tall in the entrance.

He was an illustrious man and had taught each of his children to carry his pride. Like them, he dressed in the finest clothes from foreign nations – threads other noblemen couldn't afford.

"Papa," Gisela rose dutifully, beaming. She'd always been obedient as a servant when he was near. "How was your meeting?"

"Tiresome," came his answer. He added an almost interested, "And your lessons?"

(Y/N) watched as Gisela lit up like a light. "Wonderful! (Y/N) and I were just practicing embroidery–"

"Yes, good," he nodded. "I wonder, could I steal (Y/N) away? End lessons early?"

It was (Y/N) that spoke next. "Yes." She rose from her chair at once, not at all bothering to hide the relief she felt. She was halfway out of the door when Gisela began to protest.

"But Mama says I must–"

"It will be alright, Gisela. A stitch left undone is not the end of the world,"

And their father closed the door.

Time with Papa was always a treat; he rarely concerned himself with anything besides his work. His attention fell, most of the time, on his youngest and favorite child, and (Y/N) relished in his attentiveness. The same kindness was not shown to Gisela nor their older brother Nikolaus, which had taught (Y/N) at a very young age that she was special.

"That girl," muttered their father a few paces from the door. He kept his voice low, but not quiet enough that the maid wouldn't overhear. "She's just like her mother, always focused on the things that don't matter..."

"Have you heard of her engagement?"

He did not comment on the amusement in her voice. "She hasn't told me, but I've known for a while," he said. "The way she flashes that ring around all the time,"

(Y/N) couldn't help but smile. "I'm happy for her, at least. She and Dimitri work well together."

"Yes, quite. They both like to hear themselves talk."

They stepped into his sun-soaked office, and like always, (Y/N) sunk into the chair across his desk. Papa made his way to the bookshelves that lined the walls. "Your mother is quite furious with you. She wanted me to reprimand you for skipping out on your portrait."

"And will you?"

He laughed softly. "Never," His hand found the book he was looking for and he turned toward her.

This made (Y/N) smile. It was a silent agreement – that she need only apologize and her mother would forgive her at once – and a confirmation that nothing had been wounded except her pride.

"Mama worries I behave too recklessly." She looked at Papa, pleased when she saw him roll his eyes. "That no man will ever love me if I don't straighten out,"

"Your mother exaggerates and her fears are stupid," he said plainly. "What about the boy you snuck out to see?"

(Y/N) felt herself stiffen. She couldn't think of anything to say.

"I overheard you and Gisela talking. Pardon my prying, but I am eager to know. Who is he?"

"He's a friend of mine," answered (Y/N), careful not to say too much. She couldn't meet her father's eyes as she spoke. "Zeke,"

"What does he do?"

"He's studying medicine,"

Papa seemed to like her answer. "Medicine," he repeated. "Good work, he must be smart,"

"He's incredibly smart,"

He leaned back, allowing himself to sit on his desk. "And how old is he?" He was smiling, pleased, for his youngest daughter had found a good man.

"My age," she answered. "But he's closer to eighteen."

"And why don't you want to invite him to dinner?"

That question surprised her. She gave him the same answer she'd given Gisela. "It isn't my dinner,"

"Let me rephrase." He sat down across from her at his desk, looking every bit as important as he was. (Y/N) maintained his gaze with great effort. "Why don't you want him here?"

Papa had a gift for seeing through lies and always, always her's. There was nothing (Y/N) could say except for the truth, so she gathered her courage and stated it plainly.

"Because it scares me,"

His brows furrowed. "And why is that, my dear?"

He's Eldian, she wanted to say. Desperately, she wanted to tell the whole truth and for Papa to laugh and say is that all? But she was seventeen and was not stupid. She learned long ago what her family valued. The whole truth meant she would never see him again.

She settled for, "I'm afraid you won't approve of him," instead which was only partially untrue.

Papa inclined his head, smiling the slightest bit. "My dear, I doubt there will ever be a man that I believe is good enough for you, but that's because you're my youngest and brightest. All I ask is that he makes you happy. And does he?"

"We're only friends, Papa,"

"But does he make you happy?"

Her answer came quickly. "He does,"

"Then it's settled," he squeezed her hands gently and offered another smile before he rose from his chair.

"You'll invite him tonight,"