The night before Leonor left Burien Manor for the Academy, she had complicated feelings as she wandered the hallways and fondly ran her hands along the cold walls. Her sapphire eyes occasionally admired various pieces of artwork that decorated the walls the closer she got to the central point of the manor.
Despite her state in a place that felt like a prison, all of her good mories from childhood were created there. They all revolved around her mother as well. Even the birth of her sister was sothing she celebrated at one point, not knowing how their relationship would sour as they grew older.
Her father had requested her presence before she could sleep and, surprisingly, she felt less afraid of him than she had since he showed her his true colors after taking Valerio away from her.
It had been two months since then and she had turned 17 in the middle of sumr. The Academy opened its doors for mages each autumn and she had to wait out the sumr before she could finally escape.
Count Mikael left his daughter alone with the Crown Prince suddenly hanging around her. The Prince never announced when he would visit despite the Count’s subtle suggestions to warn them so they could make themselves more presentable. After all, no one could directly tell him otherwise since he was royalty.
In that ti, Leonor grew to respect him. She realized his kindness was intentional even if she didn’t fully understand his reasoning.
Like her, he had a distaste for nobles. He seed to despise even his own father. They found solace in their mutual mistrust.
When Leonor was a few feet from her father’s study, she paused and took a deep breath. Although the fear was less, it wasn’t gone. After he raised his hand at her, it never would disappear.
Luckily the study door was open when she approached it. She didn’t want to catch her father off guard and worsen his mood.
"You requested to see , my lord?" Leonor asked.
She bowed at him even though he would probably prefer a curtsy. She was wearing riding clothes after an evening ride with Blanca. Occasionally she visited the stables to take her horse out but it would never be the sa without a certain ruby-eyed man to cast her eyes upon. Her heart didn’t feel the sa when she was there.
She straightened up when her father’s voice reached her.
"Sit down," he ordered. "Give a mont, please."
Leonor exhaled silently, trying to push away the reaction to his unfairness. If she responded in an unsatisfactory way, he would likely prevent her from leaving the next day. Opting to silently follow orders, she placed herself in one of the chairs near his desk, sitting with perfect posture and a neutral expression. She had learned that if she acted like nothing and made no noise, that was how the Count preferred her.
She cast her gaze to her lap and listened to the occasional shuffling of papers and scratching noise as her father signed various docunts and wrote responses to anything pending. Even if he wasn’t a morally sound person, he was at least soone who went to great lengths to manage his county properly. He was a smart man even if it didn’t reach the emotional aspect of himself.
The lady heard a drawer close before silence fell over the room. She could feel her father’s eyes burning into the top of her head but she wouldn’t be the one to speak first.
"You are leaving tomorrow," he said as if it were the first ti it had occurred to him. "You will spend weekdays in Magia and weekends here."
"Yes, my lord," Leonor responded, eting his eyes and revealing nothing by her expression.
Over the sumr, she spent each day training her expressions and becoming better at guarding herself. Valerio loved her expressive face but Leonor was tired of the wrong people using it against her. There was only so much she could take before sothing snapped within her.
"The older you get, the more you look like Jara," the Count remarked as he observed his eldest daughter. She found his voice surprisingly gentle and wished he wouldn’t try at all.
Leonor found his comnt completely misplaced. She also found it interesting that it took her to figure out how to control her emotions for her father to think she looked like her mother. He had often said before she didn’t look like anyone in their family.
What the Count saw in Countess Jara’s expression was probably thinly veiled hatred - soone keeping their true selves under wraps so they wouldn’t face repercussions. A dog that had been beaten but still needed to eat. The thought made her all that much more miserable.
"I’ll take that as a complint," Leonor responded lightly, hoping that it wouldn’t bring up unnecessary conversation.
The only thing in the world that could ever soften the Count was ntion of his late wife. Despite the way he disrespected her mory, he was a pushover when it ca to Countess Jara. Leonor was never sure what changed in her death. At one point she even believed the Count loved her mother until he turned in such a harsh direction.
She hoped that her father wouldn’t try to appeal to her heart. Instead of a heart, there was a hole where it was supposed to be. It was on a battlefield with its rightful owner. She couldn’t even tell if the owner was still alive or not.
It seed the Count knew where his daughter’s interests lay because it wasn’t in a heartfelt conversation with him. He changed the subject quickly.
"Tomorrow you will depart at dawn and travel for over half a day," he explained. "You will use the weekend to settle into your dormitory. You have been placed in central Magia. His Highness has said that is the best place for a new student to live. There are scholar guides if you have further questions."
Leonor was surprised her father would ntion the Prince. He acted as if they had great conversations with one another and whenever Prince Stephano visited it wasn’t to see her. She nodded.
"Thank you, father," she said.
There was a pause and she silently prayed that he would let her go.
"Good luck in your studies, Leonor," he said.
He continued to confuse her and she nodded before excusing herself as politely as she could.
Having to sit so still and quietly made her unnerved. It was getting late anyway and she was exhausted.
When she was finally back in her room, she changed into a nightgown and went to the lilacs sitting on her desk.
As she did each night, her hands went to the flowers, however, her mana didn’t co forth.
Leonor second-guessed her nightly routine for the past couple of months. She couldn’t take the flowers to school and they would die without her magic.
She pulled her hands away, staring hopelessly at the last thing Valerio gave her. Was it ti to change her routine?
She turned in her chair and looked around her room with a lost expression. However, she perked up as an idea struck her.
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