It had been a week since Elena started working at Frowde's Fine Books. Persuading Catherine to agree to her request had required considerable effort. Her mother's concerns about their family's reputation in the capital city weighed heavily on her mind. With their family's current struggles, Catherine dreaded the possibility of Elena becoming the subject of gossip or shouldering the burden of their circumstances. 

However, Elena's persuasive powers, honed from past experiences, ultimately won Catherine over. The only condition Catherine imposed was that Elena couldn't ride her bike to and from work. Instead, Tomas, Bethany's husband and the family attendant, would provide transportation, ensuring their family maintained a semblance of dignity and social standing in the capital. 

Elena was beginning to get settled into her new routine at Frowde's Fine Books, she discovered a sense of belonging among the dusty shelves and whispered conversations.  

Mr. Frowde's guidance helped her navigate the world of rare books and eager collectors. She spent her initial days immersed in learning the intricacies of the bookstore's organization system and categorizing the vast collection. Her conversations with Mr. Frowde were enlightening, and she soon found herself addressing him as "Professor," just like the regular customers who sought his expertise. 

The first few days passed quietly, not due to a lack of patrons, but rather because Elena's anticipation of seeing the young man from her first day remained unfulfilled. However, as the days rolled on, his absence began to occupy her thoughts. 

Meanwhile, Sebastian's days were filled with meetings alongside his father, Jonas, a prominent figure in Ashwood's governance. As they navigated the intricacies of urban development, Sebastian's thoughts occasionally drifted to the bookstore and the young woman who had captivated his attention. Elena's presence lingered in his mind. 

One afternoon, they deliberated on the ambitious plan to expand gas lamp installations throughout the capital. Jonas, championing the initiative, had garnered praise from the King himself. 

Though praised by the king, there was growing discontent in the capital over the recent tax increases placed on commoners, while nobles and merchants received tax incentives. This disparity had begun to stir social unrest, especially as industrialization and modernization fueled a shift in public opinion regarding the rigid class structure.  

Jonas, like many other nobles, was invested in modernizing transportation and other initiatives in the capital, a key part of his business interests. However, he—along with the rest of the aristocracy—staunchly opposed the dismantling of the class system.  

These issues found their way into the bookstore, where political students frequently sought out Professor Frowde, eager for his insights into the capital’s unfolding developments.  

Professor Frowde had spent much of his life teaching a wide range of subjects. By his late forties, however, he had narrowed his focus to politics, shaped by his experiences serving in the previous war. Upon returning to academia, he brought a fresh perspective to his lectures, eventually dedicating the remainder of his career to teaching politics at the university until his retirement.  

Professor Frowde stood as a bridge between both sides of the class divide. Born the illegitimate child of a noble, he had noble blood but none of the privileges that came with it. Through sheer determination, he worked his way up, passing the capital’s exams to become a respected teacher.  

During the war, Frowde formed close bonds with many of his fellow soldiers, some of whom were nobles. Among them was Duke Jonas Carlisle von Edmonton, a young officer whose life Frowde had saved in battle. Over the years, despite their differing opinions on politics and class, Frowde and Jonas remained close friends, often engaging in deep discussions.  

Sebastian had grown up watching the intense debates between his father and Professor Frowde. As he got older, he too found comfort in his conversations with the professor.  

For Elena, arriving in the capital had been a whirlwind of insight into its intricate politics. Before long more than a week had passed and she had been immersed in a crash course on various topics, vastly different from her life in Valtara. There, she had always been in the know—stories and gossip flowed freely at the seaport as travelers came and went. 

Though Elena wasn’t particularly interested in politics, she understood its significance from watching her father run his business. It was this realization that fueled her obsession with learning languages. Fascinated by the world beyond, she spent much of her time mastering the languages of traders who frequented Valtara.  

Still, she found Professor Frowde’s conversations with his patrons stimulating, as they helped her uncover more about her temporary home.  

“What are your thoughts, Elena?” Professor Frowde asked abruptly, catching her off guard. 

Elena, who had been content as a quiet spectator, was taken aback.  

“As someone who’s just moved to the capital, what’s your perspective?” he continued, as Elena thought carefully, searching for an earnest response.  

Elena hesitated, feeling the weight of everyone's eyes on her. The teenager wasn't used to being asked her opinion on political matters, but Professor Frowde’s question seemed genuine, not meant to trap her in a debate. 

“I’m not sure how much I can offer,” she began, carefully choosing her words. “Back in Valtara, things are... different. Politics doesn’t feel as close to everyday life, at least not for people like me. The most we hear about are trade disputes or the occasional shift in the king’s policies, but those are just stories we hear at the port. We focus more on what happens in our own town, like what’s coming in and out of the markets, who’s traveling, what news the traders bring.”  

She paused, glancing at Professor Frowde to see if she was making sense. He nodded, urging her to continue.  

“But here, it’s like politics touches everything,” she continued. “It’s in the air, in every conversation. I hear people talk about taxes, industry, and class structures... all these things that I never had to think about before. It’s overwhelming, honestly, but also eye-opening. It makes me realize how much I don’t know about how the world really works.”  

Elena offered a small smile, almost apologetic. “I guess, as an outsider, I see how the capital feels... tense. Like something’s about to change, but no one knows what that change will bring.”  

She looked to the professor, unsure if her answer was enough, but the thoughtful expression on his face told her it had struck a chord.  

“I understand, but the class structure affects you too, Elena,” Professor Frowde retorted, his tone gentle but firm. “You may not see it, but you are still the daughter of nobility—a viscount’s daughter, at that.”  

Elena blinked, surprised by his words. She had never really thought of herself in those terms. Valtara had been different. Her father may have held a title, but in their small town, it was his business acumen that people recognized, not his noble standing.  

“But… I’ve never felt like it mattered,” Elena replied slowly. “In Valtara, no one treated us any differently. We were known for the business we ran, not for my father’s title. People cared more about trade routes and the next shipment of goods than about nobility or class.”  

“That’s because Valtara operates on its own rhythm,” the professor said, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “It’s a port town—a place where money and goods flow in and out more freely, often blurring the lines between class. But the capital is different. Here, titles carry weight, whether you acknowledge them or not.”  

Elena shifted in her seat, uncomfortable. “So, what does that mean for me?” she asked, genuinely curious now. “I’m just here for a short while. How can something I’ve never cared about matter now?”  

“It matters,” Frowde replied, leaning forward slightly, “because people will perceive you through that lens. You may not have lived the life of a typical noble, but the title follows you. And, as you’ve seen, the tension here is building. It’s a world where class is everything, whether you choose to play the role or not.”  

Elena fell silent, her mind racing. She hadn’t considered how her status, one she rarely thought about, could shape how others saw her. It felt strange, like wearing a mask she hadn’t chosen.  

The professor smiled gently. “Don’t be discouraged. It doesn’t define you, but it is a part of your story here. How you navigate it—that’s up to you.” 

The next day, Elena felt a growing frustration with herself as Professor Frowde’s words replayed in her mind. Now that she was in the capital, the rigid lines of social class that she had once ignored loomed larger than ever. She knew she would have to confront them, especially with her classes at the academy starting soon. 

On top of that, the uncertainty surrounding her father’s business crisis weighed heavily on her. It wasn’t something she could ignore, though she had tried. Her focus had always been on one thing—succeeding here so she could return and help her father rebuild.  

As Elena arrived at the bookstore, she bid Tomas farewell. But something across the street caught her eye—a familiar motorized carriage parked just outside. Her heart skipped a beat, and nervous excitement began to stir inside her.  

Could it be? Was Sebastian here? Elena's pulse quickened, her nerves fluttering.  

Elena pushed open the bookstore door, her eyes quickly scanning the room. As usual, Professor Frowde was at his familiar spot behind the front desk. But beside him stood a young man, tall and commanding, with a regal air about him. It was Sebastian. After more than two weeks, he had finally returned to the bookstore.   

"Ah, Elena, you're here," Professor Frowde called out, turning as the soft chime of the door welcomed her in. "I haven’t had the chance to formally introduce you yet, have I?"  

Sebastian nodded, his dark grey eyes locking onto Elena’s as she nervously approached. His gaze was sharp but not unkind—still, it sent an unexpected flutter of unease through her.  

Why did it feel like he could read her thoughts? Stop it, she told herself. He’s just being polite. Was she imagining things? Her mind buzzed with questions she couldn’t quite silence. 

"Sebastian, this is Lady Elena, the bookstore's new star assistant," Professor Frowde said with a warm smile. "Elena will soon be starting at Ashwood Academy, and Sebastian here is one of the academy’s top students." He gave Sebastian a proud pat on the back.  

"Pleasure to meet you, Lady Elena," Sebastian said, extending his hand. The formality of the gesture gave her pause, a reminder of the etiquette and formality in the capital.  

She hesitated, barely a heartbeat, before placing her hand in his. His grip was firm but controlled, and in that moment, she became hyper-aware of how differently people treated her here. In Valtara, a handshake was just that—a handshake. But here, it seemed to carry weight, as though it signaled something much larger about who she was supposed to be. 

"Nice to meet you, too," she replied softly, her mind racing as she tried to steady herself. His presence felt overwhelming, yet oddly familiar.   

Professor Frowde watched the exchange between the two with a quiet chuckle before breaking the silence again.  

“You know, Sebastian, I’m quite excited to see how Elena does with the academic rankings," the professor said with a teasing glint in his eye. "She already has you beat—she speaks more languages than even you."  

"Is that so?" Sebastian asked, his gaze never leaving Elena’s face, but his tone remained perfectly neutral. His eyes, though steady, seemed to linger a fraction too long, like he was observing more than just her words.  

The corner of his mouth twitched, almost too subtle to notice, but it made Elena wonder if there was more behind his calm expression. 

Elena forced a smile, her hands tightening around the book she was holding. Was it just her imagination, or had Sebastian’s gaze grown sharper, almost as if he could see through her?  

She glanced down at the book in her hands, willing her heartbeat to slow, but when she looked up again, Sebastian was still watching her with that unreadable expression. Her cheeks warmed, and she quickly looked away, hoping he hadn’t noticed.  

"I think she’ll make a name for herself," Professor Frowde added with a proud smile. "I have an eye for talent."  

Feeling the tension rise, Elena excused herself with a polite nod, leaving the professor and Sebastian to resume their conversation. She moved to the nearby shelves, quietly stacking books, but her thoughts lingered on their brief encounter. From the corner of her eye, she watched the two of them continue their conversation, her mind buzzing with the weight of the professor's praise and Sebastian’s intense presence.  

Sebastian, for his part, never turned her way again, his attention seemingly fixed on the professor. And yet, there was something about the way he stood—too still, too controlled—that tugged at her curiosity.  

It was as if he was deliberately keeping himself in check, carefully composed. She caught herself staring, wondering if there was something beneath the surface of his perfect poise, something that his eyes refused to betray. But if there was, he was masterful at hiding it, leaving her with nothing but unanswered questions. 

Elena’s fingers brushed against the book spine, and before she could react, it slipped from the shelf, falling to the floor with a loud thud. The sound seemed deafening in the quiet of the bookstore, and she winced. Kneeling quickly to retrieve it, she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, the embarrassment creeping in.  

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a flicker of movement—Sebastian’s eyes on her, just for a second. Was that amusement in his gaze? Or curiosity? Her heart raced faster than before, and for a brief moment, she hated how obvious her clumsiness must have seemed.  

Still, when she stood up again, Sebastian’s attention was back on the professor, as though nothing had happened at all. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that he had noticed more than he let on. 

And yet, Elena hoped there was more to their brief interaction—something unsaid, something tense and fragile. 

She cursed herself for being so obvious, even if it had been an accident.  

She could hide in the shelves all she wanted, but it wouldn’t change the strange, growing pull she felt whenever he was near.