The day was finally here. 

The day Rosa had been dreading, planning for, and lamenting about for the past two weeks.

"I heard you got into the honors classes," I said mildly.

She moaned. "Right! Honors classes!"

"I heard they have a beautiful lake."

"No, the lake event?!"

"And a high-class tea shop."

"The tea shop gifts! How could I forget?" She buried her face into her hands. "I'm not ready for this!"

Really, Ro, can't you be any less weird? But I only sighed and said, "Just plan when you get there. You have the entire carriage ride, don't you?"

She considered this, then raised her head. "You're right. I'll do that."

For yes, there was a fancy shmancy silver-lined carriage right in front of our eyes, in all its blue-and-white glory. I hadn't been able to stop staring at it during our entire conversation, and then some.

I heard a clatter of footsteps behind me and noted, "There come the little ones."

Ryan, Rebecca, Roly Poly, and Ruth clamored out of the house to look at the carriage. "Ooooh," they chorused, eyes shining. Rosa rolled her eyes and heaved her suitcase up with one hand, dumping the thing in the footman's waiting hands.

He immediately dropped it, the heavy bag thumping on the ground. I snickered. He looked more surprised than we were.

"That guy is weak!" Roly said.

"Weak! Weak!" repeated Ruth and Roly. Ryan sniffed and turned his head away.

The footman turned red and took the bag away, though the strain in his frame was easy to be seen. Rosa didn't even care.

"Girls," she said instead, hands on her hips. "Stand at attention!"

They clapped themselves into proper form, though small six-year-old Ruth lost her balance and stumbled to the side for a moment.

"Remember to listen well to Ryan and mother, and don't stress mother too much, alright?"

"Alright!" they yelled.

Rosa nodded in satisfaction and turned to Ryan. "And you, don't forget that the little ones need to be back by--"

"Seven on the sun clock," he sighed. "I know, I know. You told me six times this morning."

I punched him lightly in the arm. "And I'll be here to remind him, so just go, Ro."

She shuddered. "Can't you tell that I'm trying not to go for as long as I can?" Right, her Academy phobia. Pfft.

"How long are we going to be out here, til lunch?" Mother Lily was leaning by the doorway, her shawl pulled around her. She smiled at Rosa. "And the Duke's going to provide us with wages, you said."

Rosa only scoffed. "Just barely. That wife's going to take most of the funds away."

"What?" She frowned, then her face smoothed out in no time. "Actually, yeah, that sounds like something she would do. Now shoo! Go to the Academy and learn as much as you can, alright? And don't forget my lessons," she said, winking.

Rosa looked bored. "I couldn't even if I wanted to, mother."

"What lessons!" shouted Roly, jumping on her mother.

"Do we need them!" added Poly, about to jump on her mother, too, but then finding no space, turned to Ryan and jumped on his leg instead.

"Ow!" Ryan yelled, his voice cracking yet again. Becca burst into giggles, and Ruth laughed too, though she wasn't sure what was entirely that funny.

Mother and daughter exchanged tired looks, then Rosa nodded and climbed the carriage by herself, too busy scolding the kids to see the footman's hand. He reddened and pretended he was just patting his stomach. You know, like all footmen are prone to do.

"Have fun, Rosa!" I called, as the carriage door closed. "And visit often!"

"As if I'll have fun!" she said, her head popping through the carriage window. She looked dead serious. "I told you, the Academy is not about learning, it's about--"

"Fine, fine, just go already--"

"And I'm the heroine so I have the power to change things, and at least I have a plan all set that doesn't mean I want to go or--"

The horse clopped down the street, thankfully cutting her off, and she ended up just waving at us as the kids and I waved back.

"Bring cookies!" Roly yelled. 

"And croissants!" Poly added.

Becca (the 10-year-old) looked at me, her brown eyes shining. "I heard they have chocolate croissants in the capital," she whispered.

I picked up Ruth and leaned in conspiratorially. "I heard they have strawberry milk."

She gasped, and I laughed. I held out my hand to her. "Come on, let's try see if I can get Cook to spare me some strawberries."

Now, if only Rosa didn't make trouble with her heroine nonsense. Please.

---

"You commoner," a girl sneered, her hand held (fashionably?) up to her face. She had blonde ringlets and a bright pink headband fastened to her hair. She lifted her nose up. "What do you think you're doing here?"

The girls behind her (for there were many) all tittered to themselves, murmuring choice words that was unfit for any audience's ears.

A major face-off. A golden-eyed, brown-haired girl versus an entire entourage of people. A transfer student, of questionable sources, ambushed at her table under a tree. In the middle of lunch, it seemed. Passerby students were both fascinated and feeling pity for this new target, who was very beautiful indeed. Some worried that she would break down crying and run from the room. Others were excited by the prospect of it. Nobility, you see, could be very boring sometimes.

Though that wouldn't be an excuse for their savage personalities, of course.

"Well? Are you going to throw up your answer anytime soon?" She smirked. "A student with commoner backgrounds aren't welcome here, after all."

Her group of friends erupted into another set of giggles, and the commoner girl didn't even raise her head, much less respond.

The girl tossed her head triumphantly. "Let's go, girls," she said, turning back.

"..nt." A quiet voice stopped her in her tracks. 

She tilted her head towards the girl. "Did you say something, commoner?"

When she looked back, she was taken aback by the gleaming golden eyes that met her eyes. What--

"Isn't," the girl said more clearly. "A student with commoner backgrounds isn't welcome here."

"What?" she said stupidly.

"Your subject-verb agreement was wrong," she replied, the wind softly caressing her light brown strands of hair. She used on hand to tuck some of the hair back, and some of the male students forgot how to breathe. "If your subject is singular, then so must be your verb."

The blonde girl with the (fashionable?) hand up to her face lost all abilities to speak. She sputtered. She gasped. She hemmed and hawed but couldn't come up with anything to say. The nearby students whispered to themselves. 

It was the commoner girl who tilted her head this time, a small smile gracing her lips. Her eyes never left the other girl's, bold and hard and glittering. "And I'm sorry, were we introduced? My name is Rosa Chesterfield, daughter of the High Duke." Her emphasis on her last name and her father's title was not lost on anyone present, and her opponent's hands shook in anger and embarrassment.

"Hmph!" she said, spinning around, and the girls around her scrambled to follow. "We'll see about this next time, Miss Rosa."

"I prefer Miss Chesterfield," she called to the backs of the entourage, with a sunny smile.

When the crowd dispersed, she was left by her lonesome again. Rosa shrugged and returned to her food. By the end of the day, she was no longer the pitiful commoner target in all the rumors-- no, she was now the snarky upstart.

Though Rosa wouldn't really know of this until much later. And even then, she wouldn't care. And at that very instant, she had more pressing thoughts in her mind. In fact, at that very moment all she was thinking about was, Mothers are always right. Even about grammar lessons.

But then she caught sight of the glimmer of sunlight reflecting off the surface of the Academy's lake and groaned. Right, the lake event. Now how do I avoid that?