Rosa was being weird.

Well, I mean, yeah, she was rarely not weird. But this was still another kind of weird that I had not expected, especially since she'd been pretty quiet until now.

She kept barging in at the most random times and announcing things like, "You know what? I'm a noble!" or showing me a bunch of paper and going, "Hehe, I have a lot of paper now, because I'm a noble."

Like, okay? I know?? You've been a noble for quite a while now??? I really didn't get what was going through her mind this time.

Thinking back on it, this recent spiel of Rosa-obsessed-with-being-a-noble began exactly one week before from today. She'd sat at the bar at night, holding a cup of apple juice without drinking from it, just staring into the rippling liquid like it held all the answers of the universe. And then she'd looked up ominously while I had been wiping down my counter and informed me, gravely, that her cup had a crack in it.

"I thought it was weird that she was being really quiet, but now she's just strange," I complained to Mother Lily, as we sat at the bottom of the stairs at Rosa's house. I was explaining to her all my theories about Rosa's sudden and annoying bragging while we watched the kids scream outside playing some made-up version of tag. "She went back normally that night, but get this-- when I woke up the next morning, she was pacing outside our room scribbling stuff onto her hand!"

"Outside your room?" Mother Lily looked amused, and I huffed.

"This isn't funny! I'm not sure what's happening, but Rosa's been acting like this all week!"

She patted me sympathetically on the back, but the twinkle of delight in her eye did not disappear. I sighed. Rosa was Mother Lily's daughter, so I suppose there was no helping that one.

"You told me last time that you were worried Rosa's been acting off," Mother Lily reminded me. "Isn't it better that she's acting ridiculous again?"

I scratched my ankle, considering it. That was true-- moping-around-Rosa hadn't been very fun to be around, either, and I had worried when she stayed like that for a pretty long time. "I guess you're right," I said reluctantly. "At least one of us is happy."

She laughed again, and we fell silent as the little ones yelled at each other about who was 'it' and who wasn't.

We watched Roly crinkled her nose and stomped towards Poly, her hands curled up into fists. Uh-oh, that was not a good sign, so I stood up, ready to call at them, when the door opened with a loud bang.

"Ack! What the--" I sputtered. "Rosa?! What are you doing here?!!"

"Mother!" cried the girl who should've been in class this very hour. "Oh, hi Filian. Anyways, Mother! How much high society scandals and secrets do you know?!"

"Oh, lots, of course," Mother Lily replied, not missing a beat. "Any specific requests?"

"That's what I'm figuring out now. Thanks, mother!"

And with that, she dashed back outside, the door slamming shut behind her.

"Wait, did you hear that?" I heard one of the little ones say out at the backyard. Probably either Roly or Poly

"Hear what?" came Ruth's squeaky little voice.

"I heard Rosa!"

"No you didn't," Ryan scoffed. "Rosa's at school, you blockhead."

That's right, Rosa was supposed to be at school. It was the middle of a weekday. Did Rosa really just come all the way home to ask Mother Lily a single question (during class time), and then leave?!

"Hey! I'm not a blockhead!" continued the conversation outside.

"Yeah! Poly's head is round! She's a roundhead! You--"

I stared at Mother Lily, mystified.

She flashed me a smile. "That's my daughter," she told me proudly, though I had no idea what part of that was making her so proud.

Sighing, I sat back down again. "I still don't know how a daughter like Rosa came from someone as sweet as you are."

Mother Lily shook her head. "You know, contrary to what you might think, Rosa's not as bad as I was. She's such a kind, responsible kid; I couldn't have asked for more."

I pressed my lips into a trembling smile to swallow my incredulous scoffs. "Right. Kind and responsible."

She gave me a look that told me she knew exactly what I was thinking. "Filian, you know I was a noble, right?"

I froze. "....no?"

"Oh." Mother Lily blinked. "Have I not said?"

"No?!?!"

"I was disowned when I had Rosa. Didn't Ava tell you? Everyone in town knows this."

What! What! "Not me I didn't!! What!!!"

"Well, that's what happened." She patted me on the arm and laughed at my dropped jaw. "I was a second daughter, though, so I was pretty expendable. How else did you think I could've met the Duke?"

I closed my mouth and opened it, then closed it again. Good point. She'd had Rosa with the High Duke, that was true. I just hadn't-- I guess I thought that she must've been a painter by trade or something, since she was good at painting so much, and they'd met that way. I gasped. Was that why--

"Why else do you think I've been reading you so much high society novels?"

"That's why??!?"

"Yeah, they're so ridiculous, it's funny," she snorted. She then shook her head. "It's very obvious that none of the writers know what they're talking about. So ridiculous."

I shut my opening mouth again and focused on breathing.

Okaaay. Breathe in, breathe out. Mother Lily was a disowned noble. Mother Lily. Was. A disowned noble. No wonder she was so good at fancy embroidery but pretty messy with basic sewing! I'd always thought it was so impractical, though I got to learn some basic embroidery from her too.

But man! Mother Lily was a disowned noble!? What a thing to learn on a random Monday afternoon.

I gasped again, turning to Mother Lily in a flash. "Wait, does Rosa know?!"

She raised her eyebrows at me. "Of course she does. I told her when the High Duke sent people to come for her." She tilted her head. "Rosa didn't seem all that surprised, so I thought she knew already, and so did you."

Well, thanks Rosa, I appreciate you telling me. Shaking that off, I asked, "How about the little ones? Do they all know, too?"

"No, I don't think I ever told them," she said, tilting her head the other way. "Hm, maybe I'll tell them when they're older. But it's really not that important to our lives anymore. It's nothing more than a funny bit of information, really."

That was true... but it was still a bit sad. I knew how much Mother Lily loved painting before that new law made it hard for her to paint any longer as a commoner. If she hadn't been disowned, and still a noble, then she probably would've been painting as much as she wanted.

I chewed on the insides of my cheek. But then again, if Mother Lily hadn't been disowned, then everyone wouldn't be here, and I probably wouldn't have ever met her or Rosa, and the little ones might not have existed. If I thought about it that way, I supposed I couldn't be too sad that she'd been disowned.

Mother Lily inhaled deeply, her eyes trained on her children shrieking outside. "I was such a rebellious girl at your age-- always doing whatever I wanted, sneaking out of the house, meeting people in secret, scheming all these little things all the time. Rosa's not half as bad as I was."

I twitched, since I doubted even Mother Lily at her rebellious stage planned to stop a war of all things, but I stayed silent and listened.

"Rosa's a peculiar child, but I do see myself in her from time to time. I can't deny it. And Rickard was basically her father. Rickard..." Her eyes softened, and she took a long breath before she continued. "Rickard was such a good father to her. And to the rest of the children, of course, but just as much to Rosa. I'm... I'm always so grateful that everyone, including Rosa, had Rickard for their father."

I couldn't help but smile myself, tears backing up in my eyes. Uncle Rickard had always been such a sweet, sweet father to Rosa, and I remembered how his eyes used to dance happily whenever Rosa reported some strange mathematical calculation she'd made. I'd be lying on the ground or something, utterly bored, but he would take his time and listen to everything Rosa had to say, asking questions and making sounds of understanding here and there.

I'd complained to him about Rosa, not long before he'd gone to the borders to fight, huffing about how she was refusing to do something with me (I forgot what) because she was too busy counting ants. (That I remembered, because who at age eleven still sat there in the hot sun counting ants?) He'd listened to me attentively and nodded along, but then began explaining to me the importance of counting ants, and why Rosa must be doing it. At the time, I'd just been sullen, wondering why he was taking ants so seriously, but now I knew that he'd been countering me the best he could to support Rosa.

Following Mother Lily's example, I looked out the window silently to watch the children, pretending to scratch my cheek to wipe an escaped tear away.

Oh, Uncle Rickard. Your daughter's trying to stop a war. Let's hope we all come out of it unharmed.

A/N: If I wasn't the author, I'd threaten the author to bring Uncle Rickard back alive, but I'm the author and I can't really threaten myself. D: