Sebastian spent the next two hours in his usual spot on the second floor, his attention divided between the book in front of him and a small notebook where he scribbled occasional notes. His routine was quiet and unobtrusive, yet his presence seemed to fill the room. 

The past two weeks, spent in the shadow of his father’s political discussions and obligations, had drained him. Now, he was thankful for the chance to regain some semblance of freedom. 

Elena had grown accustomed to the steady rhythm of his presence in the bookstore, though she couldn’t help but steal occasional glances in his direction. All she knew of him was his first name, casually introduced by Professor Frowde. But something about him intrigued her—the composed demeanor, the refined cut of his clothes, the subtle air of authority. There was no doubt he was a noble. 

“He’s a prince, isn’t he?” Elena whispered to Professor Frowde as he brewed another pot of tea nearby. 

Professor Frowde chuckled softly, amused by her curiosity. “Not quite,” he replied, a mischievous glint in his eye. “But you’re not far off.” 

Elena narrowed her eyes playfully, her gaze shifting back to the young man on the second floor. “He certainly acts like one,” she muttered, half to herself, as if trying to solve a puzzle just by looking at him. 

Professor Frowde, still smiling, approached Sebastian with a fresh cup of tea. “It seems you’ve caught the attention of another lady, Sebastian,” he remarked in a low tone, placing the cup beside him. 

Sebastian’s calm exterior remained unchanged, but at the mention of Elena, his gaze subtly drifted down toward the floor below, where she was busy with her work. Though outwardly engrossed in his reading, he had spent much of the afternoon observing her from the corner of his eye. She was unlike any of the noble girls he had encountered—there was an independence in her, a quiet strength that piqued his interest. She seemed unaffected by the pressures of nobility, not tethered to the formalities that dictated his life. 

For the first time in a long while, Sebastian found his thoughts wandering beyond politics and the demands of his family. The newcomer who worked at Professor Frowde’s bookstore had sparked something in him, a curiosity that felt strangely freeing. He tried to suppress it, knowing his life was dictated by responsibility and duty, but every time he glanced in her direction, something tugged at his mind. 

And now, as he watched her, he couldn’t help but wonder: who was Elena, really? 

When Sebastian returned for the third consecutive day, Elena felt the urge to close the gap between them. 

Elena wondered if her moments with Sebastian would continue like this—a silent observance of each other. She wanted to uncover what lay beneath his polished exterior. Moving to the capital had stirred a whirlwind of emotions within her, and while her interest in Sebastian could merely be a distraction from the unforeseen realities her family now faced, she felt compelled to satisfy that curiosity. 

Sebastian had been doing research in hopes of understanding the empire’s class system more deeply, jotting down notes with Professor Frowde’s insights. As usual, he called Frowde over, having hit another roadblock. The ancient language, something he had studied the least, stumped him again, as it was hardly ever used anymore. 

“I’m at a loss, Sebastian,” Professor Frowde said, shaking his head apologetically. “I don’t know this word. I’ll have to do my own research to help you.” 

Elena, arranging books nearby, overheard their conversation. Her heart quickened. This is my chance, isn’t it? Could this be the moment to get closer? She hesitated, unsure. Should she offer her help? It could be her chance to finally break the silence between them. But what if he didn’t want her help? Her fingers hovered over the spine of a book she was shelving as she weighed the possibility of stepping forward. 

Professor Frowde, noticing Elena from across the room, beckoned her over. “Elena, you know the ancient language, don’t you?” he asked, his face lighting up with excitement. 

“I do, Professor,” Elena replied confidently, though a tiny knot of uncertainty lingered in her chest. 

“Take a look at this, would you?” Professor Frowde handed her the book. Sebastian, still seated, watched as Elena furrowed her brow, concentrating as she read the passage. 

Her pulse quickened, not just from the challenge of the text but from knowing Sebastian’s eyes were on her. It took a moment, but the meaning of the words began to form in her mind. 

“This is an archaic form of the empire’s old dialect,” she began, her voice steady despite the flutter in her chest. “The word you’re looking for translates roughly to ‘binding pact’ or ‘contract of oath.’” 

“Interesting,” Sebastian muttered, more to himself than anyone else, as he scribbled the translation into his notebook. He looked at Elena, feeling as though he had learned just a little bit more about her. “Thank you.” 

Elena nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips, feeling an odd sense of satisfaction in his acknowledgment. There was something exhilarating in catching his attention, even for just a moment. 

Professor Frowde, meanwhile, beamed with pride. “I knew she’d be of help!” he declared, patting Elena on the shoulder. “It’s not every day you find someone with such knowledge of ancient languages. Perhaps you could be of more help to Sebastian than me.” 

Sebastian’s eyes lingered on Elena for a moment longer, his usual aloofness tinged with something else—curiosity, perhaps even admiration. She wasn’t just another face in the bookstore. She was something more. 

Elena felt her pulse quicken again, but this time it was excitement. She hadn’t just helped; she had impressed him. And though she had entered this moment with hesitation, she now felt a small victory in the subtle shift in their dynamic. 

“Anytime,” she said, her voice light but confident. “I’m happy to help.” 

By the time Sebastian was ready to leave, Elena had refilled his teacup and found herself casually lingering over his shoulder as he continued his work, much to his amusement. There was an understanding that hadn’t existed before—a quiet, mutual awareness that filled the air between them. 

When Elena returned home, she carried with her an undeniable sense of pride. Not only because she had been able to help Sebastian, but because she had finally found a way to apply what she loved most—her passion for languages. For the first time in a long while, she felt a real sense of accomplishment, like she wasn’t just surviving but contributing something meaningful. 

Catherine had noticed a change in her daughter since she started working at the bookstore. Elena seemed lighter, as though the weight that once rested on her shoulders had somehow been eased. Perhaps she was settling into life in the capital after all. Yet Catherine couldn’t ignore the flicker of unease that came with it. Was it too soon for Elena to be finding comfort in the capital’s embrace? 

Sitting across from Elena in the living room, Catherine watched as her daughter hummed softly to herself, lost in a book. The sight stirred something in her—a mixture of relief and anxiety. 

“Did something good happen today, Elena?” Catherine asked, her voice careful, probing gently. 

Elena glanced up, her eyes bright with enthusiasm. “Nothing really, but I helped someone with my knowledge of the ancient language,” she beamed, her face lighting up with genuine pride. 

Catherine smiled softly, though a knot tightened in her stomach. Her daughter was glowing, finding her place—but was it in a world that would soon turn on her? She had spent her youth navigating the intricate web of the capital’s class system—its rigid expectations, the quiet but palpable hierarchies, and the constant need to fit in or risk being pushed out. Being the daughter of a baron, she had seen firsthand how unforgiving that world could be, especially to those who didn’t follow the unspoken rules. 

She wanted Elena to succeed here, but she also knew that happiness in the capital often came with a price. Elena’s joy, her sense of accomplishment, was wonderful, but Catherine couldn’t shake the unease that came with it. How long before the weight of the capital’s expectations would fall on her? 

“I’m glad you’re settling in,” Catherine said, though her thoughts wandered elsewhere. “But you know the capital isn’t always kind to those who stand out.” 

Elena’s brow furrowed slightly, sensing the shift in her mother’s tone, but she didn’t press the matter. Catherine had always been protective, especially since their family’s circumstances had changed. 

As Catherine continued to watch her daughter, she realized that Elena was navigating the capital in her own way, much differently than she had at that age. Perhaps this quiet independence, this emerging confidence, was something to be nurtured, even if Catherine couldn’t help but worry. The capital had been both a place of promise and of peril for her, and she only hoped that Elena’s path would be kinder. 

For now, Elena’s smile was enough. But Catherine knew that, eventually, they would have to confront the reality of the world they lived in—and the costs that came with it.