Manabound - Resilience - Chapter 18 (Patreon)

AN: Officially on break for everyone except Artificers for two weeks! Tiers have been updated.

Emotional Support Dragon

The long, dimly lit hallway outside the headmaster's office was hushed, with only the faintest of murmurs slipping through the heavy oaken doors.

With every passing minute, Gwyn could feel the weight of Roslyn's silent fury, almost a tangible force pressing down on her. Why can't she see I had to stand up for Sansa? Would she rather I did nothing? Gwyn chanced a glance at her best friend. Roslyn's posture was rigid, her hands clenched in her lap, and her lips pressed into a thin line.

Across from them, Amari's face was a study in restraint, her eyes closed, and a deep sigh escaping her every few minutes. Khalan, however, was a different story altogether. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips as he took in the tense trio.

Breaking the silence, Roslyn hissed, “You can't just go around manhandling nobility in the middle of the library, Gwyn! Regardless of what they did!”

Gwyn looked at her, disbelief evident. “Roz, she hit Sansa! And not just that, she's been exploiting her family. Raafe’s family. Sansa didn’t even know that he had died. I have to tell Taenya.”

Roslyn clenched her teeth.

Silence had barely settled before Khalan let out a chuckle.

Amari shot him a warning glare. “This isn't funny, Khalan.”

He shrugged. "Maybe not to you, but we both know nothing will happen. In fact—”

The door swung open abruptly, revealing the proud silhouette of Ashryn Breland.

“Khalan, not the time,” Amari snapped.

The man nodded as his eyes settled on Ashryn.

Lady Breland’s golden eyes were dimmed with fury as they landed on Gwyn. A sneer formed on her lips as she prepared to launch into some kind of scathing remark.

However, before she could utter a syllable, Gwyn was on her feet, cutting her off. “Va bene. Remember what I said. I will be at your estate this weekend. Be ready for me,” she said, her voice low and dangerous.

Ashryn clenched her jaw, turning on her heel and storming away with an air of affected dignity. But even as she walked, her back tensed, betraying the lingering anxiety of the encounter.

As Gwyn watched her depart, Roslyn muttered, “Did you really have to poke the bear?”

Gwyn sighed, looking down at her hands, fingers almost smoking with the heat of her fire that smoldered just below the surface. “She had it coming.”

The door to the headmaster’s office creaked open, revealing a stern-looking telv secretary. “Miss Reinhart, the headmaster will see you now.”

Taking a deep breath, Gwyn, with Amari following behind her, stepped into the spacious chamber, a myriad of emotions playing across her face. The office was bathed in a soft glow, emanating from the ornate crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Lining the walls were meticulously organized shelves of books, intermingled with various trinkets and emblems of office.

Behind a large wooden desk sat Headmaster Ravenna Ezrel. Her striking green eyes peered out from behind a veil of cascading black hair, streaked with hints of grey that lent her an air of both wisdom and authority. She exuded an aura of stern benevolence, her fingers intertwined as she regarded the young girl standing before her.

Gwyn still wasn’t a fan of their initial meeting, but she’d rarely seen the woman since so the feeling was more… muted at this point.

“Miss Reinhart,” her voice was deep, tempered with a weariness that came from years of dealing with troublesome students. “I've heard... quite the tale of today's events. Would you care to enlighten me with your version?”

Gwyn took a moment, collecting her thoughts.

To be defiant, or to play the defender.

It would be so easy to throw her metaphorical weight around. She could probably even get away with it with Amari there.

But instead, she decided to give the woman the benefit of the doubt that she would treat the situation seriously.

“Headmaster, I had just learned that Miss Sarkas was related to my first knight. A man who had died trying to protect me. She wasn’t aware…”

Gwyn's voice faltered, her eyes misting over. “She wasn't even aware that he had passed away. She was left in the dark, without closure, without knowing the fate of her own brother. Ashryn then slapped her, saying she had every right… I do not care what the situation is outside of school. Here? They are equals. Just like the rest of us. When I saw Ashryn treat her with such cruelty, so brazenly in a place that should be safe... I couldn’t stand by and do nothing.”

Ravenna observed Gwyn for a long moment, her gaze neither harsh nor sympathetic but decidedly analytical. “Miss Reinhart, while your emotions and motives are valid, the manner in which you responded was not. It is one thing to defend another, but to resort to physical aggression in a place of learning is unacceptable. House Breland will undoubtedly push for your expulsion.”

That was too much for Gwyn and she clenched her fists. “I trust that you aren’t one to bend to such demands?”

Ravena nodded slowly. “Of course not. But we cannot allow our students to act in such a way.”

“Very well.” She stood straighter. “Then this is my notice. If House Breland pushes for my expulsion for defending another student, as head of House Reinhart, I demand that she be treated accordingly and the same should be done to her. Ashryn Breland laid her hands on Sansa with aggression not once, but twice. As Sansa is her roommate, I fear for her safety when they are alone. I request that Sansa, with her consent, be given the option to move rooms. House Reinhart will ensure that no reprisals will be committed against her or her family.”

The headmaster’s hand moved to her temple and started rubbing it in slow, small circles. “Miss Reinhart…”

“Headmaster, as of now, I am acting in my capacity as Princess Gwyneth and the head of my House. Please treat this situation with the seriousness that it demands.”

The woman took a deep breath before sitting straighter and folding her hands together. “Very well. Your Highness, I assure you that the situation is being treated with all due seriousness. The Royal Academy is neutral grounds and Avira’s Polite War has no business within our walls. If you wish to take action against House Breland for their treatment of their servants, then that is for House Reinhart to do elsewhere.”

Gwyn narrowed her eyes. “I did not take action against Lady Ashryn for her treatment of her servant. I took action against Miss Breland for her physical attack against a fellow student. I will always defend those in need, regardless of the situation. Now, will you or will you not afford Miss Sarkas the opportunity to be moved away from her attacker?”

Before the headmaster could respond, Amari stepped forward. “I should remind you, headmaster, that the Church’s stance on protection of children is sacrosanct. The risk of further harm to that young woman should require you to provide aid.”

The weight of Amari's words settled heavily in the room. Even without Gwyn's intervention, the involvement of the Church was a force to be reckoned with. Especially in a school where the rights and well-being of students should be above all else.

Headmaster Ezrel let out a slow sigh, her piercing green eyes now reflecting a mixture of resolve and exasperation. “Very well. Miss Sarkas will be provided with the option to change her accommodations. I’ll see to it that there’s an available room for her.”

“Thank you,” Gwyn said, her tone softening just a bit. The last thing she wanted was to be at odds with the head of the academy, but there were lines she would not allow to be crossed. Sansa was not property.

Ravenna nodded. “However, Miss Reinhart, this does not absolve you of consequences for your actions. I will not demand you apologize to Miss Breland, but I expect an official letter of apology to be handed over to my office by the end of this week for having to deal with the fallout from this.”

Gwyn gritted her teeth. Is she serious? “I will draft a letter,” she conceded, her tone suggesting it wouldn’t be exactly what the headmaster was expecting.

Ravenna studied Gwyn for another long moment. “I trust you will exercise better judgment in the future. We all have our roles to play, but it is how we play them that defines us. Dismissed, Miss Reinhart.”

The word hung in the air as Gwyn and Amari made their exit, leaving behind a tense headmaster. But for now, at least one battle had been won.

Roslyn and Khalan were waiting.

Her best friend narrowed her eyes as she came into view. “Well?”

“Everything’s fine. Sansa is going to get the opportunity to change rooms.”

Roz sighed as she joined Gwyn at her side while the two started toward their room. “You know that’s not a good idea.”

“I’m getting her family away from them, Roz. This weekend.”

Her friend fell silent.

The path to their dormitory was illuminated by the waning afternoon sun, casting a golden hue upon the academy's grounds. The vibrant colors of the unique foliage surrounded the stone pathways, their beauty momentarily distracting Gwyn from her frustrations. Students walked around the paths, others lounged on the grass, while some played games together in the fields.

Gwyn missed playing sports. She played football for a local team back in Italy, and it was something she had always enjoyed. Now, she didn’t get to do anything truly fun anymore. It was a bit depressing.

At least she got to have her horseback riding class the next day. That did at least bring a bit of joy. Gwyn’s horse had been the talk of the school when Sabina and Taenya had brought her to the stables. It took a while to settle on a name, and Gwyn eventually settled on something simple. Layla. The same name of the horse doll that her nonna had given her when she was little. She thought it was a good way to honor her.

Due to Layla’s… breed, her horse was kept in her estate’s stables and her knights were permitted to bring her the morning of class. It was also a great excuse for Gwyn to see Sabina before the weekends. Or Taenya when her mind-knight was busy.

Sabina had followed through on her promise to teach Gwyn how to ride, and the last season had been filled with every weekend riding Layla on the estate grounds with both her and her horse bundled up to stay warm during the winter.

Layla wasn’t a fan, but she got spoiled whenever Gwyn wasn’t riding her.

So, in the end, she didn’t completely embarrass herself when her class started. It was fun to see the surprise on everyone, including the royal twits, or twins rather, when they saw her beautiful horse.

That was probably why the instructor had such patience with her. She didn’t mind because it helped her convince the instructor to allow her to bring Calista occasionally.

It took a while, and Calista was already getting bigger by the time he’d agreed. But now almost every other class, her dragon would join her.

The first time she did was amusing in how scared the other students were of her. Calista didn’t care, she had fun running around with Gwyn’s horse. While a lot of the other horses had been utterly terrified—or in the case of a few, still were—of the dragon, Layla had taken to Calista quite well. It was almost like they were friends.

I can’t wait until Nyx gets bigger.

Gwyn’s pleasant thoughts were pulled by Roz saying something.

“What was that?” Gwyn asked.

Her friend sighed. “You always have to do things the hard way, don't you?” Roslyn mused aloud, her tone a mix of annoyance and reluctant admiration. The soft rustle of their robes seemed to blend with the whispers of the wind, creating an almost melodic backdrop.

Gwyn snorted. “If I did things the easy way, would you even recognize me?”

Roslyn whispered something, and Gwyn just barely made it out.

“I don’t know if I recognize you now…”

That ate at Gwyn.

They fell back into silence after that. Neither spoke for the remainder of the walk, and Gwyn found herself warring with her thoughts.

Reaching their dormitory door, Gwyn reached for the handle, but before she could turn it, a familiar voice reached out through her connection with the young dragon.

<<Sister!>>

Opening the door, the sight that greeted them was that of an exuberant Calista, her wings flexing in excitement, sitting upright on the couch as if she'd been waiting just for this moment. Her bright eyes locked onto Gwyn's, and it was hard not to smile at the innocent joy that radiated from the young dragoness.

“Hey, Calista! How was your day?” Gwyn asked, unable to stop herself from letting the dragon’s happiness improve her spirits.

<<Fun. Play. Try fly!>>

She chuckled as she put her things down, and nodded at Rollo and Roslyn’s second paladin who were sitting at the table together. The princess moved over to the sitting area and sat next to Calista. She caught sight of Roslyn going directly to her room and shutting the door behind her.

Gwyn winced, an expression mirrored by the paladins in the room. Rollo stood up. “We’re… going to go grab dinner for everyone and bring it back. I suspect that no one will want to leave.”

“Probably a wise decision. Thank you, Vicori,” Khalan said as he settled into a chair.

For such a small room, the paladins sure did like to hang out in here.

She forced a smile back onto her face and turned to Calista as the two lower ranking paladins left. “So, you tried to fly? What happened?”

<<Fail. Faceplant. Ouchies.>>

The echo of Gwyn's giggles filled the room as she enveloped the young dragon in a loving embrace, her fingers deftly finding the tender spot right behind Calista's horns. The little dragon leaned into the touch, her eyes closing with contentment. “Hey, no sweat! We’re still learning, right? Soon, you'll master it, and then, you can lead the grand Reinhart Royal Air Force.”

<<Happy!>>

Gwyn's heart warmed, the weight of the day momentarily lifted. Leave it to her little dragon sister to make everything better. Emotional support dragons were the best. Gwyn couldn’t wait to introduce the little dragon to her mamma.

Changing the topic, Gwyn tapped her chin thoughtfully. “So, what should we do? I’m thinking you can be my next subject, Nyx. What do you think?”

A surge of joy radiated from Calista. <<Picture?! Yes!>>

The petite dragon bounded over to the fireplace, her head tilting quizzically at the unlit hearth. After a brief moment of contemplation, she looked back at Gwyn, her grin revealing tiny sharp teeth.  <<Fire!>>

Grinning back, Gwyn concentrated, and with a bit of [Draco-pyromancy]—because that’s the type of fire Calista loved—she ignited the wood inside and stoked it until it grew all nice and big. Satisfied, the dragon curled up on the rug and settled in, watching the mesmerizing dance of the flames.

“Hold tight, Nyx! Just need to slip into something more comfortable and grab my stuff,” Gwyn chirped.

<<Hurry! Need scales.>> Calista projected her mock complaint, eyes twinkling.

Gwyn shot her a playful glare. “You can't use that excuse every time clothes are brought up!”

<<Wings too.>>

Trying to hold back a full-blown guffaw, Gwyn managed a snort instead. “Cheeky little thing.”

<<Big soon! More mana?>>

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll send you some when we’re done with our session.”

As she walked to her room, Amari and Khalan signaled their departure, making their way out to do whatever paladins did when they weren't in their protective helicopter mode.

Gwyn slipped into her room, its familiar scents and warmth providing her with an immediate sense of calm. Her window curtains were slightly ajar, allowing a sliver of the evening's light to pierce through and lay a gentle stripe of illumination across her wooden floor and furniture on one side of the room.

After closing the blinds and lighting the oil lamps in the room with her [Pyromancy], she walked over to her wooden wardrobe, its polished surface reflecting a soft glow. Opening the intricately carved doors, she skimmed through her collection of clothes, her fingers grazing over various textures until they halted on a soft, midnight blue tunic. Paired with some relaxed, black leggings that had delicate silver embroidery dancing along the seams, it was the perfect blend of comfort and style, and most importantly, represented her House's colors.

Sliding out of her day clothes and into the chosen attire, she couldn’t help but revel in the soft embrace of the fabric. It was breathable and light, yet warm enough for the cooling evening.

It had taken so long to convince her knights to let her have pants. Informal clothing had been the concession. Still, she got them.

She gave herself a quick look in the ornate, full-length mirror that rested against one wall. Satisfied with her choice, her image reflected a mix of regal and relaxed, perfectly embodying the young Princess of House Reinhart. With a final nod at her reflection, Gwyn made her way back to the main room, eager to continue her evening with Calista.

The gentle crackling from the fireplace filled the room, lending it a cozy ambiance that Gwyn found conducive to her art. Her art supplies, an interesting mix of parchment papers, charcoal, and various pigments, lay spread out on the table behind her. Carefully selecting her charcoal pencil, she settled comfortably into the plush cushion of the couch, her back resting against one armrest, legs sprawled across the length of the sofa.

Before her, Calista posed like a true royal, her scaled body elongated, her tail coiling around her in a neat spiral, her head held high with a pride that only dragons seemed to naturally exude. It was a pose that would have made even the grandest of knights envious.

If Calista and I go flying off, will some knight come try and rescue me?

She smirked at the thought.

Silly knights. This princess doesn’t need to be rescued.

As Gwyn began flipping through her sketchbook, memories associated with each drawing flooded her mind. Most of the pages were adorned with sketches of Roslyn. Every tilt of her head, every nuanced expression, every hidden smile, Gwyn had captured them all. One particular sketch drew her attention, and she paused, smiling softly. Roz, lost in the world of a book, a gentle smile lighting up her face. The tranquility of that moment, encapsulated in that drawing, was still so vivid in Gwyn's mind. It was one of those stolen moments, quiet, serene, and absolutely perfect.

It was a common enough pose of her bestie, but this one… it was great. Her favorite one though, came on the very next page. She wasn’t a perfectionist by any means, but Gwyn loved to see the progression of her talent through the pages. Every one just a bit better than the last.

This scene was of Roz enjoying some tea. Holding a mug up to her face back during winter and sniffing the delectable brew with the cutest little expression. While she couldn’t confirm it, Gwyn suspected her friend had finally learned to tell when her tea would be ready, but purposely waited for her fire-loving bestie to say something.

It was endearing and made Gwyn feel warm and cozy.

<<Sister?>> Calista's voice, tinged with a note of concern, intruded into Gwyn's reverie.

Blinking, Gwyn met Calista's fiery gaze. “Yeah? Oh, sorry. I got lost for a moment.”

<<Sure?>> The dragon’s eyes seemed to pierce through her, searching for any hidden hurt.

She offered a reassuring smile, her heart warmed by the dragon's evident concern. “Honestly, Nyx. Just reminiscing. Thanks for checking on me.”

Nodding, Calista resumed her regal pose. Gwyn took a deep breath, shifting her attention fully to the task at hand. Her fingers tightened around the charcoal, and she [Focused], the world narrowing down to just her, the dragon, and the canvas of her sketchbook. With deft strokes, she began to bring Calista's majestic form to life on the parchment, the gentle rhythm of art soothing her soul.

Immersed in the gentle cadence of her sketching, the outside world started to blur for Gwyn. Her charcoal pencil moved across the parchment, capturing Calista's every scale, the way the firelight played on her hide, the fiery determination in her eyes. Each detail was meticulously recorded, the sketch coming to life with every stroke.

Out of the corner of her eye, a tea cup materialized next to her. It was one of those comforting consistencies in her life–her daily tea. With a nod of gratitude for whoever had thoughtfully brought it, she gently set down her pencil, taking the cup and bringing the warm liquid to her lips. The rich aroma and gentle heat were both familiar and soothing. Using her [Telekinesis], she levitated the cup back to its spot next to her.

But as she reached out to reclaim her pencil and continue her drawing, a sharp realization hit her. She quickly turned her head, only to be met with Roslyn's playful eyes and a wide, teasing grin. Roz held two cups, along with a very similar teacup, unmistakably Gwyn's favorite, in her hands, taking a slow, deliberate sip.

“Enjoying my tea, Roz?” Gwyn raised an eyebrow, her tone mock accusatory.

Roslyn laughed, her eyes sparkling mischievously. “Well, since you decided to take mine, it's only fair I take yours," In a softer tone, she added,  “Peace?”

Gwyn's cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and amusement. “I guess we've swapped for the day then. Peace.”

The two shared a moment of lighthearted laughter, the weight of the earlier confrontation with Ashryn momentarily forgotten. Roz set down Gwyn’s tea on the table and peeked over her shoulder at the sketch. Gwyn turned it so her bestie could see and felt her heart swell at Roslyn’s appreciative hum.

Roz's hand reached out, her fingers brushing the edge of the bound paper. Gwyn hesitated for just a moment, then handed it over.

“That’s looking amazing, Gwyn,” Roslyn remarked, admiration evident in her voice as she traced the lines of the drawing with her eyes. Her gaze then shifted towards Calista, who seemed to be growing restless. With a playful grin, she beckoned the dragon closer. “Cali, come look! She’s made you look all regal.”

<<Done?>>

Gwyn giggled. “Not quite yet, but it’s close.”

Calista ambled over, craning her neck to peer at the sketch Gwyn had been engrossed in. Her eyes widened with joy, clearly captivated by her own likeness on the paper. After a few moments of admiration, the young dragon padded back to her spot on the rug, evidently pleased.

Roslyn's eyes wandered, drawn to the sketchbook, now open and vulnerable to prying eyes. As her gaze flitted from one image to the next, Gwyn felt an anxious flutter in her chest, especially as Roz paused on the drawing she held dearest—the intimate portrayal of her lost in a quiet moment, a mug of tea in hand.

Her voice, usually so confident, wavered with emotion, “Gwyn... when did you... these are magnificent.”

Gwyn shifted awkwardly. “Just little doodles while we relax.”

Roz, though, was visibly moved. “I knew you were talented, but these? They're absolutely amazing, Gwyn.”

Hearing Roz’s words made warmth flood through her, as if her [Pyromancy] had kindled flames deep within her heart. “You really think so?”

Roslyn chuckled, her fingers tracing the lines of the sketch that had captured her sipping tea. “My face in this one! Do I really look like that with my tea?! I look silly. It’s so perfect, I love it.”

“That’s because you make the same adorable expression every time you're about to take your first sip,” Gwyn chuckled before catching herself, her eyes widening at her candid admission. Did I just call her adorable?

But Roslyn was too engrossed in the sketches to notice. “Do you think... I mean, could you maybe sketch me again? Just a thought.”

“You want me to draw you?” Gwyn asked, surprise evident in her tone.

There was a moment of vulnerability in Roslyn’s eyes, emotions flitting by, as if she was second-guessing herself. “Only if it’s not too much to ask.”

Without hesitation, Gwyn reached out, her fingers gently brushing Roz's forearm. “I'd love to.”

Their eyes locked for a brief second before Roz’s gaze drifted to where Gwyn’s hand still rested. With a soft smile, she changed the topic, “Come, let's eat.”

Gwyn’s brows knitted in confusion. “Eat? I didn't see any—”

Following Roz’s amused gaze, she spotted bowls neatly arranged on the table. “When did that happen?”

Roslyn laughed, her giggles melodic and light. “Our paladins went out earlier. Apparently, they were at a loss about what to get, so they chose salads. Something that wouldn’t suffer from a little wait.”

Rolling her eyes playfully, Gwyn remarked, “Typical. Men always assuming we’d want salads.”

“They did say it was a safe bet,” Roz countered with another infectious giggle.

A growl from Gwyn’s stomach punctuated the banter. Laughing, she said, “Well, my stomach seems to approve. Let’s eat!” Collecting her treasured sketchbook, she set it aside and made her way to the table beside Roz.

The room was filled with the delicate clinking of utensils on porcelain as the two enjoyed their meal. Between bites, Roz was lost in contemplation, her fork twirling a leaf of lettuce as she mused about potential poses for her portrait. “Perhaps a regal pose? Or something casual?”

It was cute. Gwyn was happy that her friend wasn’t upset anymore, and these were the moments she loved. She kept eating as her bestie thought about every detail she’d want in a sketch. Gwyn knew whatever it was probably wouldn’t be her favorite, mainly because of how forced art was of people in this world.

Gwyn loved the candid moments. The emotions and actions that people did when they thought no one was paying attention.

But how could you not pay attention to someone like Roz? She was the center of every room she walked in. Her very presence demanded attention. Her amethyst eyes captured people in their luster. And she was Gwyn’s best friend. The kindest, smartest girl she knew.

Who loved the idea of being sketched.

It was silly.

“You know, Gwynnie, it's a bit amusing,” Roz said with a playful smirk, “usually, it's the princess getting portraits commissioned. But here I am, having the princess sketch me.”

Gwyn laughed, taking a sip of her drink. “Every princess needs a muse, right? And you, my dear, are quite the muse.”

Oh my gods. Eona? Did I just say that? Tell me I didn’t.

Instead of anything that would have made her want to die, Roz just looked up and smirked.

Gwyn hurriedly used [Cryomancy] on her cheeks. The act was so obvious that it made both of them start laughing.

They spent the rest of their meal joking and talking about silly poses Roz could do.

As their laughter subsided and they were almost done with their salads, a soft knock echoed through the room, drawing their attention.

Gwyn's brow furrowed in confusion. “I thought our paladins were just outside? Why would anyone knock?”

Roslyn tilted her head, pondering. “Maybe it's Adrienne? The group planned to study in Salla and Daria's room tonight.”

“Hmm, maybe.” Gwyn shrugged, pushing herself up from her chair and heading towards the door. Calista hopped up, her tail swinging with anticipation, and trailed closely behind her.

When the door opened, Sansa stood on the other side, looking slightly out of breath as if she'd been running. Her eyes darted around, widening when she spotted Gwyn. But it was the sight of Calista, the small dragon perched so close to the door, that really took her by surprise. She let out a startled squeak, taking an involuntary step back, eyes round as saucers.

Gwyn couldn’t help but chuckle, bending down to pat Calista soothingly. “Oh, I should've mentioned we have a dragon roommate. Calista, meet Sansa. Sansa, this is Calista.” She gently directed her gaze towards Calista, who was still watching Sansa with playful dragon eyes. “Could you join Roz for a bit, Nyx?”

<<Scaredy people.>> Calista rolled her eyes dramatically, snorting a small plume of smoke.

Gwyn and Calista’s eyes both widened.

<<Fire?! Sister!>>

“I know! We’ll talk later. This is huge, Nyx. But, let me talk to Sansa.”

Calista turned and bounded toward Roz. <<Roz! FIRE~!>>

Gwyn giggled as Roz tried to decipher what the dragon was trying to tell her. She turned back to Sansa and shrugged. “Dragons. Amirite?”

The girl was giving her a very strange look so Gwyn cautiously stuck her head out of the doorway, her gaze darting left and right. A discreet nod exchanged between her and Amari from across the corridor confirmed the coast was clear. No Ashryn lurking in the shadows. That's good.

She then met Sansa's eyes, noting a hint of nervousness. “So, uhh… Hi there, Sansa. What brings you here?”

“Could I... um, speak with you inside, Miss Reinhart?”

The formality in Sansa's voice made Gwyn's eyebrows twitch in mild irritation. “You're more than welcome to, but only if you remember that once you’re in here, I'm 'Gwyn'. Not 'Miss Reinhart.'”

Sansa hesitated for a heartbeat, her brows knitting together in thought. Finally, she took a steadying breath and nodded. Gwyn responded by pulling the door open wider, gesturing for Sansa to step inside. “Alright... Gwyn.”

As the two entered the common area, Roslyn had already risen from her seat and was clearing the remnants of their meal while Calista was snorting little puffs of smoke in a way that was probably not up to the fire code.

“Gwyn, you didn’t mention we had company,” Roz remarked, eyes twinkling. “We could have waited to eat.”

Gwyn rolled her eyes at the clear act. But, sensing the need for a formal introduction, Gwyn gestured towards her best friend. “Sansa, this is Roslyn Tiloral, my best friend and roommate. Roz, this is Sansa Sarkas. Raafe’s sister.”

Sansa's eyes flitted between the two girls, a touch of relief visible. “Hello, Miss… I mean, Roslyn.”

Roslyn's grin was gentle, welcoming. “Hi, Sansa. It's a pleasure to meet you. I apologize that we didn’t have food available, we just finished up.”

Sansa shifted slightly, looking around the cozy setting before settling her gaze back onto Roslyn. “Oh, don’t worry about the food, I've already had my meal. I appreciate the offer, though.”

Gwyn's brow furrowed in curiosity. “Ashryn doesn't know you're here, right?”

Sansa hesitated for a beat before shaking her head. “No, she's unaware. And thanks to you, I won't have to share a room with her anymore. I was moved to another room this evening.”

“Good,” Gwyn replied with firmness in her voice. “That was part of my discussion with the headmaster. Ashryn shouldn’t have treated you the way she did. I apologize for my reaction, but I couldn't stand by and let her hurt you.”

Sansa softly touched the cheek Ashryn had slapped earlier. “Thank you, Gwyn. It means a lot.”

With a nod, Gwyn gestured toward the plush seating area. “Come on, let's sit down.”

As they moved, Roslyn, having neatly stacked their dishes on a tray, opened the door. Her paladin quickly arrived and took the tray from her, offering a respectful nod before departing.

Once seated, Gwyn turned her attention fully to Sansa. The room was filled with the soft sounds of Calista's contented rumbling and amazement at the thought of fire alongside the distant muffled noise of the dorm’s night life. “Now,” Gwyn began, her tone soft, inviting, “Tell me, Sansa. How can I assist you further?”

Sansa's voice trembled slightly as she began, drawing in a shaky breath, “Three hundred seventy-six large gold.”

Gwyn's eyebrows knitted in confusion, causing her to tilt her head to one side like a curious bird. “What do you mean?”

“You asked Lady Ashryn. That's the amount of gold my family owes,” Sansa clarified, her gaze unwavering. “By tomorrow, the interest will likely inflate the debt.”

A flicker of surprise flashed across Gwyn’s face. “That's all it is?”

Roslyn returned, cradling steaming mugs. She handed one each to Sansa and Gwyn, her fingers brushing against Gwyn's in a silent reminder. “Gwyn, that is a substantial amount of money for most families.” Her eyes moved to Sansa compassionately. “I know the conversion is still tricky for you since you are used to the money of your old world.”

Gwyn caught Roslyn’s hint and shifted uncomfortably, offering Sansa a contrite smile. “I keep forgetting that. I’m so sorry, Sansa. It was insensitive of me to downplay the weight of your family’s burden.”

Sansa took a gentle sip of her tea, her shoulders relaxing a fraction. “It’s alright. My tuition here at the academy constitutes a large chunk of that debt.”

Gwyn leaned forward, her genuine concern evident. Roslyn joined them, curling up beside Gwyn on the couch, her tea warming her hands. Sansa's eyes flitted between the two, a ghost of a smile on her face, perhaps seeing the bond they shared.

Yeah, this is what best friends look like.

“If you're comfortable, would you share more about your family's situation with us?” Gwyn softly inquired.

Sansa nodded. “Certainly. A few years ago, a viscount felt wronged by my father and after forcing us further into debt, acquired it. However, after we relocated to the capital, House Breland took over that viscount’s House and seized our debt, bundling it with other assets they were accumulating. From then on, we've resided on the Breland estate. Once the head maid identified my aptitude for learning, she convinced the duke to have me designated as Lady Ashryn's tutor. Eventually, it paved the way for my own admission to the Royal Academy. The last time I saw Raafe was about four and a half years ago.”

The recounting stirred a painful ache in Gwyn’s chest, and her vision blurred with unshed tears. Roslyn, ever the attentive friend, gave Gwyn's knee a comforting squeeze.

Sansa inhaled deeply, steeling herself for the next question. “Can you... can you share more about my brother? I've been in the dark for too long.”

Gwyn then began the tale of a young, bewildered princess found in a vast meadow by two potential knights—one of whom would only earn his title after his tragic end.

The ambiance in the room grew tender as the two of them shared their stories. Gwyn learned the intricacies of Sansa's life, while Sansa got a deeper understanding of Gwyn's initial moments on Eona and the bond she shared with Raafe. As the discussion went on, Gwyn even found herself with Raafe’s Legacy, the name of which brought a quiet sob from Sansa. The poignant memories drew tears from all three of them as Roslyn sat close, proving an anchor of support to Gwyn.

But then, as the conversation eventually shifted to Gwyn's intent for Sansa's family, an underlying tension began to coil around the room, with Roslyn visibly becoming more rigid.

When Sansa finally bid them goodnight and exited the room, that tension immediately exploded.

Roslyn, her face twisted in a scowl, rounded on Gwyn. “Do you ever stop to think, Gwyn? At all?”

Confused and still reeling from the emotional conversation, Gwyn responded defensively. “What now? What did I mess up this time?”

The depth of Roz’s exasperation was palpable. She inhaled deeply, attempting to center herself. “You’re seriously heading to the Breland estate and demanding to take Sansa’s family away? And you're doing it this weekend?”

Gwyn blinked, perplexed. “You were right there in the library. Didn't you hear?”

Roz's voice wavered with restrained anger. “You were whispering! I missed that part.”

Gwyn's conviction burned in her eyes. “They're suffering, Roz. I need to help them. For Raafe's memory.”

Exhaling a shaky breath, Roslyn pinched the bridge of her nose, clearly struggling. “I can't deal with this tonight. I'm heading to bed.”

As she started to move away, Gwyn’s hand shot out, grasping her wrist. “Wait, Roz. Please.”

Unexpectedly, Roz leaned in, pulling Gwyn into a tight embrace. She whispered, her voice quivering with mixed emotions, “I’m so frustrated with you right now, Gwyn. We need a serious conversation about the dynamics between our Houses, the repercussions of your decisions, and their impact on my family. Not to mention today’s scene in the library. Just... not tonight, okay? Don’t forget your promise. I know how you are.”

Pulling back, Roslyn gave Gwyn a tight squeeze before heading to her room. She paused at the door, her striking purple eyes meeting Gwyn's for an intense, lingering moment, full of unspoken words. Then, she disappeared inside, leaving Gwyn grappling with a whirlwind of emotions.

The soft wisps of a smoke ring caught Gwyn's eye, momentarily drawing her away from the weight of the evening's emotions.

<<Silly emotions.>> Calista's thought echoed through Gwyn's mind, the dragon's sentiment playful yet empathetic.

Her gaze returned to Roslyn's closed door, Gwyn murmured, her voice thick, “Sometimes, Nyx, emotions don’t feel so ‘silly’.”

Calista, sensing her sister's turmoil, glided close, the smooth scales of her wing lightly brushing Gwyn's side in a comforting gesture. <<Come. Snuggle time.>>

Gwyn cracked a small smile, her heart warmed by Calista's endearing nature. “Thanks, little sis.”

The pair retreated into Gwyn’s bedroom, the soft light of the oil lamps casting a warm glow across the room until Gwyn snuffed them out with her [Pyromancy]. As Gwyn settled on her plush bed, Calista curled up beside her, the dragon’s wing enveloping her in a protective embrace. Gwyn snuggled into her, resting an arm around the dragon's scaled form. And even when hot tears streamed down Gwyn’s face, Calista didn’t pull away. Instead, she tightened her wing, offering silent comfort.

Who says dragons can’t be gentle? Every princess needs an emotional support dragon. Gwyn mused as she drifted off.