Restituta dragged herself out of her bed, the only thing helping her had been the news that they were leaving today. It was the only bright spot she remembered for so long, when she wasn’t comforting her brother. 

She smiled, getting out of bed before trying to wake her younger brother. Alfonso slowly got up, before she helped him dress. 

“We’re leaving today.” 

He smiled, the convent wasn’t all that bad, but it wasn’t home. It wasn’t familiar. 

Their mother had left them, tears and on a boat. They had never seen her since. Their entire family, her mother’s cousins, the distant relatives of her father were all gone. 

All that was left had been their uncle Federico, and their grandaunts Leonora. Leonora lived simply, inside a convent, taking the vows required of her. She devoted herself to art, but pitied them incredibly. 

Restituta walked out. 

“Zio Federico is coming over soon.” She looked at them. 

Restitua’s heart warmed at it. “I’ll miss you.” 

“Practice your writing, I’ll be willing to help you with it. You have a gift for languages.” She looked at him.  

Before she turned to Alfonso, cupping his cheeks. “As for you, learn your letters alright.” 

He nodded. 

Restituta walked out, holding her brother’s hand

. 

Restituta wore an old gown of hers. One that her mother left with her. Their wardrobe was mostly gone. She was happier to leave behind the days of staying inside here. 

Her aunt was the best of the lot, kind. The hymns and the scriptures had given her great comfort here. 

He was their uncle, around a few times. He was awkward, shy, and looked at them. 

Before, he only had a smile. 

“Come,” he invited them to see it, too. 

She walked, as her brother looked with joy. 

He had cried in front of Leonora, Restituta being the only one who assured him there. He had cried mostly, lonely from his parents. Her mother was all but gone. Now this was with her uncle. 

Alfonso went to his uncle, familiar to them and finding much comfort to see him. He held the coat, Federico looking down before putting a hand on his head. 

Alfonso had already cried plenty of times, scarcely a boy who knew much about the world. He missed his parents incredibly so before them, too. 

Federico, who was a young man, with black hair. His nose was rather small, with golden brown eyes, much like her own, as she noticed. 

Restituta was in the room as they brought him. 

Their mother was put to jail shortly after, and they sent her and her brother here.  

“How did you like the idea of visiting your aunt?” Federico asked, going down on his knees.  

Alfonso remembered his aunt as much as she did. It was better. She had lived in Belleni, and Restituta knew it was far. 

But Cecelia told them tales that she loved and enjoyed.  

“I’ll like that.” She had been the one to tell her brother that their father was dead. 

While Leonora had told her the truth then. 

She walked as Federico offered her hand. There was a carriage ready for them to go. 

“How long would need?” 

“Close to a day.” 

Alfonso looked, unable to fathom. “But that’s so long.” 

“Not necessarily.” He smiled. “But you want to see her.” 

Alfonso nodded before following.

“Do you think it’s long, Restituta?” He turned around, not wanting to let her go. 

“Yes, but if I get to see her, I don’t mind.”