[Calista’s P.O.V.]
Calista exhaled through her nose, fingers pinching the bridge between her eyes as she stood outside Nerina Morwen’s study.
She already knew what she was going to find—or rather, what she would not to find.
The room beyond this door would be empty, the chair untouched with the ink bottle still corked and the papers free of any notes.
And young lady Nerina?
She’d be off sneaking into Alaric’s magic class.
Again.
With a sigh, Calista straightened her posture and schooled her expression back into one of patient disappointment.
As a tutor, she had long accepted that her lady had little interest in the refinement expected of noblewomen.
But it was still her duty to instill it in her.
So, prepared to find an empty room and start drafting yet another lecture on responsibility, calista opened the door.
And stopped.
Seated properly—if a bit slouched—at her desk.
Waiting.
Calista blinked. Once. Twice.
Nerina raised an eyebrow at her, expression half-bored, half-amused.
Then, in a stunning display of formal grace she rose from her chair, gathered her skirts and delivered the perfect noble greeting—an impeccable curtsy down to the precise angle of her dip.
“Good afternoon, Miss Calista,” she greeted smoothly, her voice carrying the elegance expected of a lady of Morwen.
Calista’s mind short-circuited.
She… greeted her? And properly, at that?
This was Nerina Morwen. The very girl who once tried to bribe a servant to “accidentally” spill tea on the guest of honor just so she could leave early.
This wasn’t real.
Nerina held the pose for a moment longer before straightening with an exaggerated groan, her earlier grace immediately dissolving into casual disdain.
“Ugh, that was dreadful,” she scoffed, flopping back into her seat.
“How do people keep that up without collapsing from boredom?”
Calista barely managed to suppress her sputter.
Nodefinitely Nerina Morwen.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Clearing her throat, she quickly composed herself and set down her materials. Whatever this was, she wasn’t about to let it shake her professionalism.
“Well then, Lady Nerina,” Calista said, clasping her hands together.
“Let us begin today’s lesson—”
“I’d rather skip etiquette.”
Calista sighed. Staring blankly at the pretentious girl in front of her as if to ponder the meaning of existence itself.
Her momentary hope flickered out, and she silently resigned herself to another long battle of wills.
“Lady Nerina, etiquette is the foundation of noble—”
Calista had began to ponder if the young lady had simply attended to annoy her out of boredom.
Until the following words left the young girl's lips.
“Teach me how to dance instead.”
Calista blinked.
Her eyelashes fluttered again and again as if simply expecting to wake up from such a ridiculous dream.
“…Pardon?”
Contrary to her flustered state, Nerina leaned back in her chair with practiced ease. Arms crossed lazily over her chest.
“Dancing. And playing instruments. We’ll do those first.”
Calista simply stared. Her gaze vacant as if those words simply could not be comprehended.
The young lady… was requesting lessons?
Not just any lessons, but the most tedious, repetitive, time-consuming ones?
The same Nerina who once declared that she’d rather duel an armed knight than sit through a waltz lesson?
“…Are you feeling unwell?” Calista asked, the words spat out before she could stop herself.
“Why? Does it shock you that I’m making a reasonable request?”
Nerina smirked, her mischievous grin in full bloom as she covered her mouth to stiffle a laugh.
Yes, very much so in fact.
If calista had not done several reality checks, she would have believed the world was simply ending.
But Calista was naught but a professional.
She cleared her throat again, straightened her back and offered a polite nod.
“Very well, my lady. If that is your request, then we shall begin with dance and music.”
The etiquette lessons could wait.
For now.
