"But you don't know everything. I'll read you the passage that particularly hurt me, since I don't want to hide anything from you," added her friend, and finally Mare noticed the second sheet she was holding in her hands.

"I am truly convinced that my dear friend, Lady Elane Haven, has no equal in terms of beauty, elegance and quality, and I don't think I'm at fault if I take it for granted that you agree with me. The affection she has inspired me for years is intensified by something even more significant, namely the hope of soon being able to call her my sister-in-law. I don't know if I have ever told you my feelings about it, but I won’t leave without trusting you, and I believe you won’t find them unreasonable. My brother already admires her very much, all her relatives desire this union for her as much as we do, and I don't think I am deceived by the partiality of a sister if I say that Ptolemus is certainly capable of winning the heart of any woman. With all these circumstances in favour of a bond and none that can prevent it, I am perhaps wrong to indulge in the hope of an event that will ensure the happiness of this many people?"

Mare was stunned. So this was the plan, it wasn't a marriage already orchestrated between Miss Samos and the General, but between her friend and her brother! Wren, however, didn’t want to believe her, and her words about the undeniable affection he felt for her seemed to do nothing but further hurt her broken heart as upstream they didn’t think the same about the letter's emissary, for not to mention that she was convinced that she wouldn’t be able to derive any joy from a marriage to a man whose friends and relatives hoped he would marry another woman.

"You must be the one to decide," said Mare, "and if after mature reflection you discover that the pain of doing a rudeness to his sister is greater than the happiness of being his wife, I certainly recommend you to refuse.”

These words brought Wren a smile, as they both knew perfectly well that she wouldn’t hesitate to accept his proposal, but the shadow of the possibility that he wouldn’t return in six months continued to cast a dark shadow on the general mood, to the point that only Diana’s invitation, addressed to both of them, managed to dispel that constant thought a little, replacing it with genuine curiosity, since she and Wren were by no means intimate enough for such a proposal. The answer to all their questions, however, came the next day when the Colonel's daughter told them that she needed female help, and that Mare was too involved to be the only opinion she would hear. From anyone else, this would’ve been an intolerable rudeness, but Mare knew her friend well, and if it was about romance, an assumption that soon turned out to be correct, she didn't want to be wrong and analyzed every single detail to the point of making the least gesture the most rational. The summary of the matter, however, was that Mr. Jesper had woken up early the previous morning, and unannounced, had gone under her window to ask her for a clandestine meeting. Diana accepted, and he, very awkwardly, revealed his interest in her, as well as his intention to marry her, if she accepted. The entire Farley family would’ve been thrilled with the event, but she had asked him for time to think about it, although she was already certain that she wouldn’t come to any conclusion alone, so she had bestowed that invitation. Wren, who was good-natured, greatly appreciated the gesture, and considered it an unspoken compliment to her sensibility and handling of the matter with Mr. Samos, so she quickly got busy, and all the years they had spent politely ignoring each other were recovered within an afternoon. Mare, however, wasn’t so well disposed towards the idea: she appreciated that Diana had asked for more help to reach the most favourable of conclusions, but she would’ve preferred that she had talked about it with her brother, as Shade had been silently courting her for years, and watched her from afar become the only woman he certainly wanted to marry; the prospect that she might want another man had bothered him and not a little, Mare had noticed, although she hadn't said anything, too absorbed in her own problems, but the real possibility that she might decide to marry another man would certainly have prompted him to declare himself, and everyone knew that those two were meant for each other, something that she wanted to remind to her friend.

"Mr. Jesper is smart and pleasant, and it’s certainly inviting for a woman to be the only one who can put a man at ease, not to say reassuring, even if he doesn’t seem like that kind of person. On the other hand, I can already see the blame on your face, Mare, and I want you to remember that your friendship is the thing I care about most in the world and even if I know how you feel, remember I too would behave differently if my perspectives were different, but they’re not, so I’m just asking you to be happy for me if I accept.”

"I will be," Mare assured her, though she wasn't sure she would ever be able to rejoice in her brother's unhappiness, "I just ask you to tell Shade before making any decisions. Do you think you can?"

To the affirmative answer of the other, Mare waited a time that she considered reasonable and took leave, followed by Wren, who asked her if she wanted to be accompanied home, which Mare refused, determined to be left alone with her considerations. It took her time before she could reconcile herself with the idea of ​​such an inappropriate union as she never imagined that, once called to decide, her friend would sacrifice all her best feelings. The next day, Mare was sitting with her mother and sister when Colonel Farley appeared and requested an audience with Mr. Barrow. Terrified of what might have happened, Mare remained tense the entire time they spent in the library, but the tones never rose, and when he left, the Colonel looked as calm as when he arrived. Mare waited a while before reaching her father and asking him what had happened, fearing a reproach for her advice to her friend, which could’ve broken the relationship between the two families, if the situation between Diana and Shade had been from her misunderstood, but he replied very calmly, saying he was happy and satisfied that Miss Farley, whom he had always thought fairly intelligent, wasn’t as foolish as his wife or daughter Gisa. Although this didn’t gave an explicit answer to her question, it reassured Mare, who was convinced that she could get more direct answers once her brother, who had gone out with Bree and Tramy, returned, as she didn’t want to be pressing with Diana, who could also have took offense at how things went the last time they met. At first, Shade seemed a little surprised by all that attention, but when he realized that Mare’s wasn’t just a fervent desire to know some new gossip but real concern, he told her not to worry, and that everything would turn out right in due time, a time that however established a reserve between the two friend that became a silence so heavy that convinced Mare their confidence was stained forever. Furthermore, these gloomy feelings certainly didn’t help Wren's mood, who hadn’t heard from Mr. Samos for a week and hadn’t even received an answer to her letter for his sister. Even Mare was beginning to have fears, not so much that Mr. Samos was indifferent, but that his sister could keep him far. Reluctant as she was to admit such a devastating idea to the happiness of the only friend she had left, and so dishonourable about the constancy of her love, she couldn't help but think about it often. The united efforts of two insensitive women and a friend so influential, favoured by the charm and amusement of Archeon, might’ve proved to be too much, so she feared, for strength of his affection. As for Wren, her anxiety about that uncertainty was, of course, more painful than Mare's, but whatever she felt she just wanted to hide it, and therefore between her and her friend there were never any allusions to that subject. The mother, on the other hand, wasn’t held back by such delicacy and hardly an hour passed without speaking of Mr. Samos, expressing the impatience for his return, or even asking her daughter to admit that if he didn't come back she would feel treated very bad. It took all of Wren's mild steadfastness to endure those attacks with acceptable tranquillity, which diminished, however, upon the arrival of Miss Samos' letter of reply, which removed any doubt about their winter accommodation, they would have settled in the General's residence, and, according to Wren, also regarding the feelings of Mr. Samos towards Lady Haven. Mare paid no attention to those speculations, she hadn’t seen, in fact, any warmth between the two in the time they had spent at the Hall of the Sun, but the fact that Evangeline was so evil she could take pleasure in the idea of undermine her own brother’s happiness, and in such a mean way, filled her with indignation and resentment, equal only to the concern she felt for her friend, who had fallen in love with a man of such lightness of character, a slave to intriguing friend, willing to sacrifice his own happiness at the whim of their desires. If, however, it was only his happiness

that was sacrificed, he could play with it as he wanted, but it was also Wren's that was involved and she believed he should be aware of it. In short, it was a topic that could’ve been thought about for a long time, even if, perhaps, to no avail, but she could do nothing else, and whether Mr. Samos's affection had really died down or had been suffocated by the interference of his friends, whether he had been aware of Wren's feelings or they had escaped his observation, in any case, even if the judgment would’ve been concretely influenced in the different hypotheses, the situation remained the same, and the peace of the girl equally wounded. It was a couple of days after, that Wren found the courage to talk about her feelings with Mare, but in the end, left alone by Mrs. Skonos, after a longer than usual rant on the Hall of the Sun and his owner, she said: "Oh! If my dear mother controlled herself more, she has no idea how much pain her constant considerations about him give me. But I don't want to complain, since it won't last long. He will be forgotten, and we will all be as before."

Recently elevated toroyalty, he’d returned to the ancestral home of House Samos, and he hadn’t evennoticed. Or forgotten, likely due to the fever he felt in his skin, along witha terrible itch. Again, he cursed the velvet embroidered with metal pieces thathis ability couldn’t not sense and alert to him. He didn’t want to hear theirthuds in his head, programmed to examine any material until he knew which metalsit contained, how much there was, and how to wield it. He didn’t. He wished hewas free of his ability for once, for an hour, when he was in such a poor stateand just the thought of controlling the metals made him wince.

He forced himself tomove despite his soreness all over, and tried to shove off the duvets, teethgrinding as his hands –

Hands

“Hey,” a voicemuttered. He couldn’t see her behind the bedpost at first, before Wren Skonosrose and turned toward him to slow him down. Mostly urging him to “be careful!”with his right hand.

Their eyes met for amoment. Wren’s concerned gaze calmed him, although his head still beat toofast. How could he have forgotten? He’d lost a hand in the battle at thewedding. He’d felt the absence and the pain. The injury was the reason why hisbody was weak and his mind not sharp and he’d known that deep down.

But this hand …

Wren took it, this new… thing, in hers. “I numbed its nerves for now,” she said. “For the most part.You’ll need to reassess it, though, to … recalibrate.”

A light flush glowedcoldly on her dark cheeks. Recalibrate indeed. As if he was a machine that hadto function, and his hand was a motor in repair. It looked as strange as one.Oddly soft and raw, with a strong grey tint like from heat or a hit. He couldimagine the pain throbbing in it he had to thank Wren for not feeling.

Wren’s lips twitchedlike she was restraining herself from biting them. She always hid her distressso well. Everyone he knew did, because all of them felt great distress. But itwas somewhat different for Wren, a young skin healer who saw and saved the mostpowerful people of Norta at their worst. Her patients would want neither pitynor worry, but whether they wished for Wren to be talkative and comforting orquiet and unnoticeable, she had to find out.

Whatdo I wish her to be for me?

“I’d recommend to moveyour fingers,” Wren said eventually. “Do you consent?”

He blinked at her and asshe stared back, he realized he still hadn’t said anything to her. You’re getting as taciturn as your father, Tolly,he thought with dread. He cleared his throat. “Yes,” he groaned.

Wren nodded, her greyeyes lingering on him before she focused on his hand. “I’ll move the fingersand you tell me if you feel it. Then I’ll lessen the numbness piece by piece.”

“Yes,” he repeated. Andthen winced and soughed as Wren started the examination. Pain radiated throughhis new limb. Not for Wren being careless, but because the pain was inevitable whenhe needed to heal, get used to and train the new hand.

That was something hewas definitely used to; he’d done so from birth. A Samos was strong, and to remainstrong, you suffered and withstood. Only that his father would never call it “suffering”– to not admit such feelings was a part of their creed so essential it didn’tneed saying. Eve certainly never said so. She was stronger than him, smarterthan him, more inscrutable than him. And their father even went so far, he didn’texpress any emotions at all, nor said very much in general, while you were stillexpected to understand and obey.

It was odd that, when Ptolemushad mocked this discrepancy as a child, he’d been beaten until he shut up; butwhen he talked back now, he didn’t earn any response which probably qualifiedas a praise on Volo Samos’s terms.

Asif obstinacy and contradiction are valuable only after you learned to obey.

By now, they’d switched from Wrenmoving his fingers to Ptolemus doing it on his own. He’d expected the ache yetwas still frustrated by the inefficiency and feebleness in the motions of thenew limb. He’d require weeks of training to return to his old skills.

“This was the wrongway,” he said, sighing. “I should’ve been conscious while you regrew it, andimmediately gotten used to it.”  

“Your mother orderedit.”

He startled. “What?”

Wren smoothed herskirts with a dash of vexation. “I told your parents the same – that it’d bemore successful to wait until you’re stable and conscious, but Lady Larentiadisagreed. She wanted you to be … whole, as soon as possible, and your unconsciousness,she claimed, would avoid any ‘disturbances’ in my efforts.” She breathed outheavily, not to say snorted, andturned away, her eyes on the window.

He wished he couldsimply admire her profile, accentuated by the sunlight and let everything elsebe. For a moment. Or an hour.

“That wasn’t her idea.”

“Hm?” Wren moved herface slightly so he could see her raised brow.

He was even morebewitched by her half profile. He cleared his throat. “I mean, that sounds likeMother, but I’m sure father ‘told’ her so.

Wren frowned. “Ithought … a warrior like him would know better?”

He didn’t reply.

Wren’s gaze held on tohim as much as her hands. They continued to soothe him, his fever, and thethrobbing in his new hand, but she couldn’t slow the beat of his heart, or coolthe warmth in his cheeks. Not when she was their cause, and he didn’t dare tolook anywhere but at their joined fingers in his lap. In the pregnant silence,he began to hear her breathing as she waited, thoughtfully. He believed she graspedhis meaning, even without another word from him.

Finally, he lifted hisface and let their eyes lock. He wanted to sink into her touch, into her greyeyes, in this moment. But as he tightened his grip, Wren opened her mouth,about to break apart their understanding.

No,don’t say it

When she breathed in,it was all he needed to anticipate her words.

It’spunishment, isn’t it?

He let go of her hands,startling her enough to interrupt her. He’d speak to be sure. “Why are you here?”he uttered, the first idea he had. But he truly wondered.

Wren was irritated, ifnot annoyed by him being so ungrateful. She pulled away for good, straightenedfirst her back and then some imaginary wrinkles in her skirt – again. It washer habit. “I am and I was there to heal you,” she said sharply.

“Because Eve draggedyou along.”

“To help Mare Barrow,yes.”

“Which was treason.”

This time, she glaredat him. He couldn’t match her stare, but he didn’t flinch away either. Wrensighed, then stood up, glided toward the poor rays of sunlight and huggedherself.

His eyes followed her,realizing well enough that she sought a bit of golden warmth in this place ofcold iron. He knew where either of them belonged.

“I couldn’t have sa …helpedMare Barrow without your sister’s insistence,” she said eventually. “And I wasglad for it, because I’ve wished to help Barrow for a long time.” She glancedover her shoulder. “After I had to see her suffer for months, as close by as onecould get.”

Thatmade him flinch, although Wren’s reminder was hardlyas icy as Barrow’s rage pointed at him. I’vemade her suffer too.

Did Wren notice his thought?She came back to his bed, arms lowered and features soft. She tilted her head. “Everysingle person in this place is a traitor now,” she said. “Did you agree to becomeone too, before?”

He shook his head everso slightly. “We weren’t told beforehand, as a safety provision.”

Wren inclined her head.“Well, I agreed to as much as I was allowed. I wanted … something new.” A twitch,not quite a smile but close to it, played on her lips. “A new king, a neworder. In this case, a new country. Or at least the chance of one. Without …Maven.”Her smile turned sour.

To honour hersincerity, he quieted his snort. It wasn’t that Wren’s notion was false, butthat he was wrong in it. Ridiculous, even. All this would bring was chaos, hewas sure. Maybe his father wanted exactly that, yet Volo was able to controlit, too. Not he, Ptolemus. His father had made him a crown prince, he who hardlygrasped what was happening, and he’d make a mess of it and disappoint everyone.Most of all Wren, especially with this wedding dreaded by all lying in wait.

He wouldn’t demean herwith pretenses. “The Rift won’t do you that favour,” he said. How easy it wasto undermine his father’s ambitions. “Nor can I. I’m not good for you, trustme.”

She laughed. Really laughed,although a flush crept up her cheeks, as if she was also a little embarrassed.She bent down to take his hand and he squeezed back automatically. It painedhis new hand, but he didn’t mind it now. It felt wonderful to touch her, withor without her ability flooding his nerves.

And then she camecloser still, her face mere inches from his and her finger brushing his lips. “Howmany times have I saved your life now?” she asked.

“Umm …” he estimated quickly.He could think of four times at least.

When he said so, sheoffered him a smirk. “And if you count the training incidents too?”

Those were innumerable,and while he considered, her lips touched his, at first as feathery light asher finger before the kiss intensified. What an idiot he was. Had he actuallytried to chase her away? It was the last thing he wanted, although he should want it. For her sake.  But that was probably why he’d failed somiserably.

He didn’t want the kissto end, but everything had to. He knew that. Yet having Wren this close to him,to both remember her touch and feel it as they pulled apart, he realized thatthings could also be repeated.

“It seems like,” Wren murmured,“that I’m very good for you, Ptolemus.” He gasped when she spoke his name, andonce again when she laid her head on his chest. “Perhaps you should leave thatdecision to me,” she concluded.

He nodded as he huggedher soft frame. “Then I’ll have to do and get better, I assume.”

He loved that the firstthing his new hand felt, still raw and untested, was someone as lovely andbeautiful as Wren Skonos.

"Maybe in this case it can be positive", Diana replied, "to be able to hide it from other people, but sometimes to be so wary has its drawbacks. If a woman hides her own affection with the same skill to the one who is the object of it, she can lose the opportunity to conquer him, and it’ll be a very poor consolation to think that the world is equally unaware. We’re all free to start a slight preference, is more than natural, but very few of us have such feelings that they really fall in love without being encouraged. Nine times out of ten, a woman would do better to show more affection than she feels. It’s indisputable that Samos likes Wren, but he may never express more than that if she doesn't help him do so.”

“But she’s helping him!” exclaimed Mare.

"Remember he doesn't know her the way you do, therefore he may not understand it," the other wisely suggested. Although Diana wasn’t married, she always had good advice, whether it was sentimental, about family or neighborhood disputes, and the suggestions she was giving her, if it hadn’t been the romantic Wren she was talking about, would’ve been really good; although closer in age, Mare's two closest friends were very distant in terms of social class, and couldn’t be more different in character, which made the idea of organizing a cognitive meeting that wasn’t a social event of extended dimensions, a folly.

"Well," Diana said, "I wish Wren with all my heart to be successful, but if she married him tomorrow, I believe that she would be as likely to be happy as she would be studying his character for a year. Happiness in marriage is just a matter of luck: as much as two people can know each other thoroughly previously, or have similar characters, that won’t affect their happiness in the slightest, as they will always find something later that will divide them. Maybe it's better to know as little as possible the defects of the person with whom

you’ll spend the rest of your life, or we’re all destined to die alone.”

Both girls burst out laughing, and in the hilarity of the moment, it was far from Mare's mind to be in someone else's thoughts; General Calore had barely admitted at first that she was pretty, and at the ball he had looked at her without any admiration, as it had happened in their subsequent meetings, where he had done nothing but criticize her with his friends. But as soon as he convinced himself  that her face barely had any nice features, he began to find that her intelligent dark eyes were able to render her expression beautiful, and although his critical eye spotted more than one symmetry flaw in her physique’s proportions, he was forced to acknowledge that she had a lean and pleasant body, and those discoveries had only been followed by others, equally embarrassing. Of all this, she was completely unaware; for her he was only a man who made himself unpleasant everywhere and didn't think she was beautiful enough to invite her to dance. Yet he began to want to know her better, and as a first step towards a direct conversation, he paid attention to her exchanges with others. This way of doing caught the girl's attention, and while they were at the Skonos’ house, where a large group had gathered, she spoke to her friend about it.

"Why was General Calore listening to my conversation with Colonel Farley?"

"It's a question that only he can answer," replied the other, "but if he does it again, let him know you're noticing his strange behavior."

Mare took her friend literally, and the girl soon found herself forced to distract her from teasing the poor young man, who seemed incredibly uncomfortable, inviting her to play and sing for the little gathering. Following her performance, it was her sister who took her place on the stool in front of the piano, and though the youngest of the Barrows had neither genius nor inspiration, vanity had provided her with determination and a pedantic and presumptuous way of doing things  that made her get everything she wanted. Mare had been listened to with much more pleasure, although her voice didn't sound so good, but Gisa, at the

end of a long concert, was still pleased to obtain praise and gratitude from everyone, except for the General, who had remained in indignant silence for that way of passing the evening, which completely excluded conversation, and was too busy with his own thoughts to notice having the owner of the house next to him until he started talking.

"What an enchanting pastime for young people!" the man exclaimed, looking at the couples, including his daughter and Mr. Samos, who had started dancing. "On the other hand there is nothing like dancing; I consider it as one of the main refinements of civil society. "

"Of course, sir; and it also has the added bonus of being in vogue among the least civilized societies in the world. Any savage can dance. "

The man just smiled, as if he had realized something that was obscure to Cal, an attitude that annoyed him immensely, but never as much as his attempt to make him dance with Miss Mare, who seemed to have no intention of giving him the honor, despite his good disposition. Her reluctance, however, hadn't hurt her in the eyes of the gentleman, who was thinking of her with a certain satisfaction when he was approached by Miss Samos.

"Can I guess the subject of your reverie?" she asked, turning her gaze to the room and covering her thin, pale lips with a glass.

"I would say not," he replied, sardonically.

"Let me try: you are considering how unbearable it would be to pass many evenings like this, in such company, and I absolutely agree with you. I was never bored that much! The nonsense, plus the noise; the nullity and the importance that all these people give themselves! What would I give to hear your comments on them! "

"Your hypothesis is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was engaged in more pleasant things: I was meditating on the great pleasure that two beautiful eyes can give. "

Miss Samos immediately stared into his face, and asked him to tell her who was the lady who had the merit of inspiring such a reflection. Cal replied intrepidly, mentioning Mare's name, but had to quickly placate his friend's sarcasm and remind her that he hadn't forgotten their agreement, if only not to attract too much attention. Unfortunately, the General couldn’t suspect that he had been overheard by the young Gisa, who, returning home, reported everything to her sister just for the sake of hearing the malice that her mother would’ve expressed towards that man so cold that he hadn't even bothered to compliment her performance.

"From the way I hear you talk, you must be the silliest girl in the neighborhood," her father retorted. "I had suspected it several times, but now I'm convinced. "

Gisa was so disconcerted that she almost began to cry, and it was only her mother's intervention, and the subsequent quarrel between her and her husband, that allowed her to reach her room undisturbed. As for Mare, she listened, since her father's opinions were always well thought out, and certainly more reliable than those of her mother or even her brothers.

"From what you say, those two have been friends all their lives, and even their parents were friends before them, so it wouldn't surprise me if they secretly agreed to get married, if they were left without a partner for too long,” Mr. Barrow decreed, putting an end to the discussion, at least aloud, as his words reverberated for days in his daughter's mind, until the importance of the news was outclassed by a letter that came directly from the Hall of the Sun: Wren had gone on horseback to a lunch with Miss Samos and Lady Haven, but she had been surprised by a thunderstorm and now remained a guest of the Samos until her indisposition, which consisted of a severe sore throat and a pounding headache that had barely allowed her to write that note, had passed. Seriously worried about the matter, and despite her father arguing that she was going to be fine, Mare had decided to visit her, even though, with the ground made extremely muddy by the rain, making the carriage completely unusable,  and given her ineptness as a horseman, she was forced to go by foot.

"How can you be so foolish?"asked her mother, rhetorically, " You won’t be presentable once you get there!”

"I'll definitely be presentable to see Wren, which is all I want," she replied, and Gisa's objections were to no avail since she was even supported by Shade and Tramy, who were willing to visit the Farleys, who lived right off the street. It was just dawn when the trio left the house and took the road to the Hall of the Sun, but as soon as she separated from her younger brothers, Mare continued along the shortcuts she remembered from when she was a child, walking briskly through field after field, climbing over fences and leaping puddles with agile impatience, eventually founding herself in sight of the house with sore ankles,

"I hope, my dear," said Mr. Barrow to his wife the next morning, while they were at breakfast, "you’re going to make a good lunch for today, because I’m right to expect an addition to our family group.”

"What do you mean, my dear? Is it perhaps Mr. Samos?” she asked, her eyes already shining. Although she didn’t want to admit it, she hoped, deep in her heart, that her daughter's stay at the Hall of the Sun had stirred the heart of its tenant, or at least his cousin, but her husband revealed the bitter reality: he was talking about his own cousin, Mr. Jesper.

"Oh, my dear!" exclaimed Mrs. Barrow, "I can't bear to hear his mention. Please don't talk about that hateful man."

The hateful man in question was only a few years older than her eldest son and was extremely quiet and mysterious, and just like everything else Ruth Barrow couldn't understand, she just didn't liked him. Orphan of father as a child, his mother had served at Lord Davidson’s house until her death, and as any good relative should do, he had written to his cousin to communicate it only after the funeral, as not to create any kind of fuss.

"He must be a strange one, I think," said Mare, who had only had the pleasure of meeting him when she was so young she couldn't even remember.

"I can't understand him. There's something very pompous about his style... Do you consider him an intelligent man?” asked Shade to his father.

"Maybe he once was, but I don't have high hopes, given the mixture of servility towards his benefactor and presumption, yet the letter doesn’t seem to be badly written.”

As for the mother, Mr. Jesper's letter had made much of hers grudge vanish and she was now inclined to know him with a degree of self-control that amazed everyone present, which she lost at four o'clock when he walked in, right on time as reported in the letter Mr. Barrow had received nearly a month earlier and had kept secret until then. The guest was welcomed with great courtesy, and although Mr. Barrow spoke little, the ladies were quite inclined to chatter and filled the long silences of the newcomer, a tall, slender young man, with a grave and solemn look and manners very formal. He barely sat down when he started complimenting Mrs. Barrow for having such pretty daughters; he said he had heard a lot about their beauty but, in this case, fame was inferior to reality, and he added that he had no doubts about seeing them both, in the time due, happily married. This gallantry wasn’t much appreciated by Mare but her mother, who never found fault in compliments, replied very promptly that he was too kind, and she hoped so too. The gallantries was interrupted by the announcement of the afternoon tea, and Gisa and her mother exchanged a smile when the guest complimented the beauty of their home, especially the entrance and the furnishings of the dining room. Mare noticed that their host seemed to have nothing to say but compliments: the pastries were wonderful, the tea blend divine, and so on, to the point that she soon found herself bored and only joined the conversation when forced by her father. Lord Davidson's concern for his wishes and regard for his comforts seemed very commendable, but even in this case it was mainly praise, and it was time for dinner that Mare hadn’t yet understood what that young man thought of any topic, or whether he actually had thoughts of his own that differed from those of his benefactor, a childless and heirless man who was probably going to leave all his belongings to his dear Tyton once he died.

"It’s fortunate for you to possess the talent of flattering gently. May I ask if this pleasant attentions arise from a spur of the moment, or are they the result of previous preparation?" asked the host, and he enjoyed every moment of his awkward response, sharing a hidden laugh with the eldest daughter. The poor man couldn’t have imagined that the beautiful Mare Barrow had so little regard for him, and he confided to her mother that he intended, since soon he would’ve had a beautiful house and an income that he would never even allow himself to dream of, to marry and that he would’ve chosen his cousin's eldest daughter as his first candidate, so, when Gisa expressed the desire to go out for a walk and Mare decided to join in order not to always have the stranger around, her mother suggested that it was Mr. Jesper to accompany them.

"It would be nice if you showed him around, and that way he would get to know our neighbourhood," she said, candidly. In pompous nullity on his part, and in courteous nods of assent from the cousins, they passed the time until they entered the city, after which Mr. Jesper lost all appeal, and not even particularly elegant hats could distract the two sisters from their search for a particular man in uniform, Mr. Thomas, whom they found accompanied by a charming stranger, who bowed as they passed. Mr. Thomas immediately spoke to them, and asked permission to introduce his friend, Mr. Maven, who had returned with him that day from the city and declared himself willing to buy an officer's patent for their regiment. It was the only thing he lacked to be considered perfect, as the young man had a charming appearance, with a beautiful face and figure and very pleasant manners. After being introduced he immediately revealed his ease as a conversationalist, an ease at the same time perfectly correct and unpretentious; the whole company was still intent on chatting very pleasantly when they heard the sound of horses and saw Mr. Samos and General Calore approaching. Recognizing the ladies in the group, the two gentlemen immediately headed towards them and began the usual pleasantries. Samos was the one who spoke the most, and mainly to Miss Barrow, telling her that they were headed to the Skonos house for updates regarding Wren's health, which her partner confirmed, only to turn pale when he recognized the stranger, who in turn blushed violently, arousing in the Mare a curiosity that she barely managed to restrain. A minute later Mr. Samos, without giving the impression of having seen what had happened, took his leave and continued riding with his friend, soon imitated also by the other two gentlemen. Returning home, Mare stopped at Wren's house to inform her of what happened between the two young men but although she was willing to defend both of them, or neither too, if they were all wrong, she was unable to explain a similar behaviour more than her friend. Arriving home, Mare and Gisa were informed by their mother that Colonel Farley had invited them, and with them also the new guest, through their brothers, to a small gathering the next afternoon, which would also be attended by some officers. Although the question was never asked openly, the girls anxiously waited for the time to get into the carriage only to find out if at their friend’s home they would also find Mr. Maven, and as soon as they entered, they found with pleasure that the young man must’ve received the invitation along with his friend Mr. Thomas, as they recognized his voice. Having learned this information, and having all settled down, Mr. Jesper was free to look around and admire, and was so impressed with the size and decor of the room he said he could almost imagine being in his benefactor's summer breakfast room, a comparison which at first didn’t seem very gratifying and that after an accurate explanation, which kept him busy until the arrival of the gentlemen, only convinced Gisa. When Mr. Maven entered the room, Mare realized the admiration she felt at their first meeting wasn’t  in the least unreasonable: the officers were respectable and distinguished men and only the best were present at the reception, but he was far above all in figure, features and way of doing and moving, making him the lucky one to whom almost all eyes turned feminine, but it was Mare who was considered very lucky when he chose to sit right next to her and immediately began to converse, even if only about the humidity of the evening and the possibility of a rainy season. With rivals like Mr. Maven and the other officers to contend with him the girls attentions, Mr. Jesper and his long silences seemed to sink in insignificance but he still had, at intervals, a gentle company in Diana, who was used to being surrounded by men in uniform and didn’t particularly feel their charm. Once the game tables were set up, however, he had the opportunity to reciprocate: unfortunately Mare had been invited to play by Mr. Maven and Gisa by his friend, so she had found herself with Bree and Shade, but short of a partner.

"At the moment I know little about this game," he said, "but I'll be happy to improve if you will teach me."

Obviously the exchange hadn’t escaped the eldest of the Barrow sisters, just as the disappointment in her younger brother’s expression, but she said nothing, determined not to allow Gisa to completely grab the newcomer’s attention, who seemed, however, more interested in conversing with her than in the game and with extreme delicacy, and joy of Mare, who couldn’t wait to know the details of his relationship with General Calore, asked the distance from there to the Hall of the Sun and how long the cause of such embarrassment the previous day had been there.

"For about a month," Mare said, and then, reluctant to drop the subject, she added, "he's a person with very extended properties in the capital, from what I know."

"You’re right," replied Mr. Maven, “and you couldn't have met a person more suitable than me to give you certain information about it, since I have had very a close relationships with his family since childhood."

Mare couldn't help but be surprised, a reaction that seemed to push the young man to open up further with her, albeit still very cautiously, to the point that she had to reassure him that no one in the Stilts felt great sympathy towards him.

"I certainly can't pretend to be sorry," Maven said, after a short pause, "that he or anyone else can be judged as they deserves, but with him I think it doesn't happen often. The world is blinded by his wealth and his importance, or intimidated by his haughty and peremptory ways, and sees him just how he wants to be seen. "

"I would judge him, for what little I know him," Mare ventured, "a man with a bad temper. "

Maven shook his head, as if to say it wasn't just that.

"He is a cruel man, and his behaviour towards me was scandalous, but I sincerely believe that I could forgive him everything, really everything, except having betrayed the hopes and tarnished the memory of the father. "

Mare's interest grew, and she listened with a lot of participation, but the delicacy of the subject prevented her from asking further questions and so he began to talk about more general things, until he came to the reasons that had led him to accept a place in the regiment:" It was mainly the prospect of stable and good acquaintances. I knew it was a very respectable and pleasant regiment, and my friend Thomas further tempted me with his description of the current quarter and the many attentions the whole society has towards the officers, which, I confess, I need;  I suffered a disappointment and my spirit cannot stand loneliness. I need commitments and social life. Military isn’t what I was meant for, but the circumstances made it advantageous. The late Mr. Calore, as my godfather, had left me a small inheritance; he was a good man and was very fond of me, so he had thought to leave me something in his will, but when he died, a small formal irregularity left me no hope in regard of the law. An honourable man would’ve had no doubts as to what his intentions were, but his son preferred to, asserting I had lost all rights due to my extravagance. The sure thing is I can’t really blame myself for doing something to deserve it: I have a firry and reckless nature, this I must admit, and perhaps I may sometimes have expressed my opinions about and to him, but I don’t remember anything worse. Either way, the fact is that we’re very different people, and he hates me, and I nearly hate him as much, to the point that I would’ve publicly shamed him, if only I were able to forget his father’s goodness.”

Elizabeth honoured him for such sentiments, and he seemed more beautiful than ever as he expressed them, though she still had a few questions left, such as the motivation that might have prompted the General to behave that way, though she remembered being in the Hall of the Sun while he boasted his relentless resentment and unforgiving temper. Of course Maven couldn’t be affable on the subject, nor impartial towards him, so Mare immersed herself again in her own thoughts, only to exclaim shortly after: "Treating like that the godson, the friend, the father's favourite!"

She had to admit, the man's words, who had seemed so lovable to her, had troubled her deeply. It was as if a family member had decided to treat Diana or Wren that way if they found themselves in a situation of need, an inconceivable thought, which made her blood boil. It was disgusting, and he marvelled at how the General's own pride hadn’t led him to be fair to someone who had been his companion since childhood.

"It surprised me too," replied Maven, "since almost all his actions are traceable to pride, his only advisor and friend, who brought him closer to virtue more than any other feeling. But none of us are consistent, and in his behaviour towards me acted stronger impulses, preventing him from being generous as the poor and his tenants know him, and so dishonouring the family by failing to the qualities that make its name popular.”

“You write at an extraordinary speed.”

"I'm sorry to admit you're wrong, in fact, I write rather slowly."

"How many letters do you have the opportunity to write in the course of a year?" she asked, though she didn't seem particularly interested in the answer. "Many will be about business. I guess you’ll find them hateful. I certainly would."

"Your guesses are becoming less and less correct day by day, my dear Evangeline," he replied, sardonically, and although she didn't seem particularly pleased with the answer, she asked him to tell her grandmother that she wished to see her again as soon as possible, which she must have already done, given his reaction. A brief period of time passed, in which all three were silent, when she started again , this time asking him if she should fix his pen, but the General replied he was fine and that it was anyway a job he always did by himself. The more time passed, the more Mare could understand that young man, whose pride was gradually diminishing, revealing he was actually unable to converse or stay in a company, a sign he must’ve had a cold and rigorous childhood, without friends or confidants, full of mentors and teachers, books and lessons.

"You always write her letters so long and beautiful?” she asked, and just then her brother walked in, accompanied by Lady Haven, which annoyed Mare a little, since she still hoped he and Wren could soon begin an official courtship.

"They are generally long, but as for always being beautiful, it’s not my job to judge,” replied the General who, although he had registered the newcomers, didn’t lift his head from the sheet.

"For me, it’s a certainty: a person capable of writing a long letter can't easily misspell," interjected Lady Haven, who had quickly rushed to snoop in turn. Mare didn’t agree with her, anyone could write long letters, even with a not particularly large vocabulary and a bad grammar, yet she said nothing, determined not to draw further attention to herself and too interested in the conversation, which had shifted to the General's use of extremely refined terms, evidently also in the letters addressed to his friends, something in sharp contrast with the writing style of Mr. Samos, which his sister defined as a set of sloppy scribbles.

"My ideas flow so quickly that I don't have the time to express them, hence sometimes my correspondents can't understand practically anything."

"It means that you let your heart write and not your mind," Mare commented, "and this does you credit, because you show yourself vulnerable to the people you love, something in stark contrast to your character with the rest of your acquaintances."

Mr. Samos seemed surprised by the compliment, while the General didn’t seem to like it, but Mare wasn’t in the mood to endure his malevolent comments, which always showed an ill-concealed wickedness and a stubborn decision to contradict her, so, before he could reply, she asked him if he didn't care about the influence of friendship and affection.

"The respect for the writer often leads me to overlook possible errors of little importance, but I would do better, perhaps, to wait for Mr. Samos to write something for my eyes before judging."

"It wouldn’t be advisable, before pursuing this topic, to agree with a little more precision on the degree of importance to be attached to this letter, as well as on the degree of intimacy existing between the parties?" the General asked, and before Mare could reply, it was the person directly interested who interrupted the discussion, which almost resembled a quarrel, with a joke, bringing his friend to end his task , while the three young ladies devoted themselves to analyzing the music sheets placed on the grand piano that dominated the right side of the room. Lady Haven sang with her friend, and while the two were busy, Mare couldn’t help but notice how the General's gaze stopped very often on her. She certainly couldn't suppose to be the object of the admiration of such a great man and that he looked at her because he disliked her would be even stranger. Eventually, she could only imagine that he turned his attention to her because there was nothing more out of place and reprehensible, according to his ideas of correctness, in any other person present. The hypothesis didn’t bother her: she liked him too little to hold on to his approval. After playing some Italian songs, Miss Samos started something more lively, and soon after General Calore, approaching Mare, asked her if she didn’t feel the strong desire to take the opportunity to dance. She smiled, but didn't answer. He repeated the question, a little surprised from what could be interpreted as a shy reaction. The truth was that she had heard him the first time, but had found herself undecided on what to answer, as she was sure that her interlocutor hoped for her assent, so he could denigrate her good taste, but for her it was always pleasant to upset these kinds of plans and deprive people of their premeditated contempt, so she replied negatively, with the sole purpose of offending him just as she had been offended by his comment when he called her not beautiful enough to tempt him. He, however, was incredibly gallant and found himself thinking that if it weren't for her humble origins, he would’ve found himself in serious danger because that young woman had bewitched him like no one before. Though she seemed too busy at first to notice, Miss Samos saw everything, and her strong impatience for Wren's recovery was somewhat reinforced by a desire to get rid of Mare, which risked to seriously jeopardize her plan. In this regard, she tried to instil in Cal a dislike for her own guest, talking to him about the alleged marriage and offering him a glimpse of the happiness that would follow such a union.

"I hope," she said, as they were walking in the grove next day, "that you’ll give your mother-in-law some advice, when this desirable event takes place, about the advantages of holding her tongue, and that you can limit the younger girl’s desire to run after officers, not to mention the delicate subject of your lady’s presumption and impertinence.”

"Do you have anything else to propose for my domestic happiness?" he asked, but before Evangeline could answer they ran into Lady Haven and Mare herself, coming from another path.

“I didn’t know you were going to take a walk,” she noted, a little embarrassed for fear of having been heard.

"You treated us horribly," Lady Haven replied, glaring at her, "running away without telling us you were going out."

Then, taking the General's free arm, she left Mare to walk alone. The path had room only for three and when the young man realized the rudeness he immediately proposed to move to the avenue, but Mare, who had no intention of staying with them, replied laughingly, before walking away with a brief farewell, that they formed a charming group and that a fourth person would ruined the picturesque appearance. From the window, Wren, who had felt strong enough to get up, saw everything and decided that she would come downstairs for a couple of hours that night. Making sure she was well protected from the cold, Mare accompanied her into the living room, where she was greeted by her two friends with many manifestations of joy; she had never found them more pleasant as in the hour that passed before the gentlemen’s appearance, and the demonstration that their remarkable ability to converse weren’t limited only to describing precisely the receptions they had attended but it was also extended to reporting anecdotes with a sense of humour and laughing at their acquaintances made her feel invigorated nearly as much as Ptolemus’ attentions who, on his arrival, spent the first half hour poking the fire and made sure she sat on the side of the fireplace farthest from the door. When he finally sat down next to her, he barely spoke to the others, which Mare noted with great pleasure. Once they had tea, Lucas Samos reminded his cousin of the game table, but in vain: Lady Haven had learned, in a completely confidential way, that the General hated cards and the few times he had played it had been only to not offend them, so suddenly everyone had lost interest in it, and seemed much more determined to devote themselves to reading, although Miss Samos's attention was much more concerned with checking the progress of the one she wished to make her husband soon than to read her own book; she never stopped asking him questions or peeking the pages, but she couldn't draw him into the conversation as he just answered her questions and kept on reading.  Finally, completely exhausted from her attempts to amuse herself with her own tome, which she had chosen only because it was the second volume of his, she gave a loud yawn and said: "How pleasant it is to spend an evening in this way! I feel like saying that basically there is no entertainment like reading! How quickly one gets tired of anything other than a book! When I have my own home, I would feel really miserable not to have an excellent library. "

No one replied, then she yawned again, put aside what, in her words, should’ve been her new favourite pastime, and glanced around the room for some amusement when, hearing that her brother was talking to Miss Skonos about a dance, she immediately turned to him, reminding him that for some of those present a dance would be nothing but torture. It was evident that the dig was thrown at the General, but he let his friend answer for him and raised his head only when Mare joined Miss Samos, by invitation, to stretch her legs. The platinum-haired young woman invited him too but he refused, noting that he could only imagine two reasons for that choice to walk back and forth in the room, both of which his participation would interfere. Miss Samos was dying to know what he meant, and as Mare was of no help to her, she insisted on her childhood friend, who replied that the first reason was that the two women had suddenly become intimate and had private affairs to discuss, and the second was to be admired, which he would’ve been able to do much better while sitting.

"I've never heard something so disgusting!” exclaimed Miss Samos. “How will we punish him for such a speech?”

"Nothing easier, if only you feel like it," Mare said, perplexed by the fact that her interlocutor had taken her by the arm, as if they were great friends. "We are always able to torment and punish each other. Tease him, laugh at him. As intimate as you are, you sure know how to."

"On my honour, I don't know. I assure you that intimacy still hasn’t taught me to tease such a quiet temperament without losing in the attempt, and as for laughing, we shouldn’t expose ourselves for laughing for no reason. I suppose he can congratulate himself.”

"Miss Samos gives me more credit than how much is due. The wisest and best of men, or better, the wisest and best of his deeds, can be made ridiculous by a person whose main purpose in life is to joke."

"Sure," Mare replied, "there are people like that, but I hope I'm not one of them. I hope I never ridicule what is wise and good. Extravagance and nonsense, tantrums and absurdities amuse me, I admit, and I laugh at it every time I can. But these things, I suppose, are just the ones from which you are immune."

"Maybe this isn’t possible for anyone, but in life I’ve always tried to avoid those weaknesses which often expose even a remarkable intelligence to ridicule," he replied, and it soon became apparent that a conversation of that rank would only take place between the two of them, though it also attracted Lucas and Elane’s attention.

"Even vanity and pride, then."

"Yes, vanity is undoubtedly a weakness. But pride... where there is real superiority of intellect, pride will always be under careful control."

Mare had to hid a smile, and Evangeline, who hadn’t understood what had just happened, asked her what the outcome of her study was.

"I am perfectly convinced that General Calore doesn’t have flaws. He himself admits it without a doubt."

"I've never demanded such a thing," he corrected her. "I have several flaws, but they don’t concern, I hope, the intellect, even if I certainly cannot vouch for my character, which I believe is very little accommodating, certainly too little in the eyes of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of others as much as I should, nor the offenses done to me. My feelings don't shift at each attempt to move them, my character could perhaps be called touchy and my respect once lost is lost forever."

"This is a real flaw!" Mare exclaimed. "A relentless grudge is a stain in a character, but as a flaw it’s chosen well, so I can't really laugh at it. In mine opinion, you’re safe."

"In every temperament there is, I believe, a tendency to some particular sin, a natural imperfection that not even the better education can defeat,” he went on, "and if in my case it may seem that I hate everyone, which isn’t true, in yours it certainly is obstinacy in misunderstand them."

“She has neither style, nor taste or beauty,” added Lady Haven. “In short, she has nothing that does her honour but to be an excellent walker. I’ll never forget her appearance this morning. She really looked like a savage.”

“I just managed to contain myself!” exclaimed the other. “What nonsense to go all that way through the mud for a simple cold. Besides, I would never have shown myself around with such sloppy, dishevelled hair.”

“Miss Barrow may not be a great conversationalist, and I guess your description may be correct,” replied the cousin, “but not only did I miss the muddy slip and the simple hairstyle, I can also say that I justify her little desire to chat, when her friend, for whom she feels a palpable affection, is in those conditions.”

“I am afraid, General, “observed Miss Samos, almost whispering, "that this adventure has somewhat shaken your admiration for her beautiful eyes.”

“Not at all,” he replied, “they were enlightened by the exercise.”

A short pause followed, and it was Lady Haven who began again: “I have a lot of respect for Miss Wren, she really is one of the sweetest girls I had the pleasure to know, and with all my heart I would like for her to settle down well, but with such parents and modest kinship, I fear there’s no chance of that happening.”

"I seem to have heard you say her uncle is a scholar,” said Mr. Samos, who didn’t seem to have any objection to the words his sister and friend had addressed to Mare, but didn’t like those harsh comments towards of the other guest and wanted to end the topic quickly.

“Yes, and they have another one, who lives somewhere close to Cheapside,” replied his sister, unleashing her friend’s laughter.

“If she had enough uncles to fill all Cheapside”, exclaimed Ptolemus, who was starting to get really irritated, “that wouldn’t make her less nice.”

“But that actually diminishes her chance of marrying a man of some importance in society,” Cal replied quietly, hoping to be able to be a peacemaker now as he always did when they were children. Obviously Ptolemus didn’t like his words, and left the room in great strides, slamming the door behind him. Everything would be back to normal by tea time, he was sure, and in this way he had also managed to dispel, at least for a moment, from Evangeline’s mind the thought that he was in turn interested in one of their guests. After lingering for a while to amuse themselves at the expense of their dear friend’s vulgar kinship, with a surge of tenderness, they went to her room, and stayed with her until they were called for tea. Wren was still very unwell, and Mare absolutely didn’t want to leave her until late evening, when she had the comfort of seeing her asleep, and judged it correct, more than pleasant, to go downstairs.  Entering the living room, she found them all playing cards and she was immediately invited to join, but suspecting they were playing hard she refused but decided to watch and listen to their conversation about Whitefire, General Calore’s estate, and his grandmother, a woman whose manners was widely praised by Miss Samos.

“It’s surprising to me,” said Mr. Samos, “ how many women have the patience to get to be so well educated as they all are; they can paint, play the piano, dance, sing and even embroider. I don’t know any who can’t do all this things, and I’m sure I’ve never heard of a woman before without being made aware of how well educated she was.”

"Your list of things commonly defined as education is all too true,” said the General. “The world is applied to many women who doesn’t deserve it and I can say it with certainty, after getting to know them better. I have to admit that, sadly, in my entire range of acquaintances, there are no more than half a dozen of really educated women.”

"Neither am I, I’m sure,” said Miss Samos. The more she knew her, the more it was evident that she was trying in every way to create bridges between her meagre personal ideas and those of the General, and Mare was ready to bet, even if she hated it, that she would be willing to trample any friendship or ideal in order to achieve her goal to marry him. If only their descriptions of what was a truly educated woman had been more alike, Mare would’ve said they were meant for each other, but their words were so diametrically opposed that she almost had to restrain herself from laughing, a task in which she was aided by the fact that General Calore described someone who was also very distant from both her, her family and her friends,  a mixture of talent, good taste, elegance and commitment that didn’t even reflect the other two young ladies in the room, who began to protest so much that Lucas Samos had to impose some order on them so they could finish the game. Since the conversation had ended so bitterly, Mare left the room shortly after.

“Miss Barrow,” said Miss Samos, once the door closed, “is one of those young ladies who try to make a good impression with the opposite sex by underestimating their own, and I am convinced that with many men the thing is successful but, in my opinion, it’s a petty system, a squalid artifice.”

“No doubt,” replied Cal, who was the main recipient of this remark, “there is some meanness in all the tricks that ladies sometimes deign to use to seduce. Anything that has an affinity for cunning is despicable.”

Not completely satisfied with that answer, Evangeline dropped the subject. How dare he throw digs at her when he knew perfectly well what had pushed her this far? Not even Ptolemus intervened, and Elane gave her a sideways glance, to make sure she wasn’t making one of her scenes. It was probably the possibility that Miss Barrow or Miss Skonos might hear it that stopped her, but that didn’t prevented her, that very evening, from consoling herself in the privacy of her room with the one that everyone would forever call her dear friend. As always after Elane’s loving care, all tension was smoothed out, and the following morning, when Mare had the pleasure of being able to give a fairly positive response to the request for information she had received very early in the morning from Mr. Samos through a waitress, it was proposed that a note could be sent to Mrs Skonos to ask her to visit her daughter and see for herself the situation, inviting her to take Mrs Barrow and the younger Miss Barrow with her too. If she had found Wren visibly in danger, Mrs. Skonos would certainly have despaired, but felt satisfied to see that the disease didn’t cause any alarm, she didn’t wish she would recover immediately, given that a healing would probably have taken her out of the Hall of the Sun. Therefore, she didn’t want to listen to her daughter, whom proposed to be brought home, and also the pharmacist, who had almost reached the house at the same time, thought it was definitely inadvisable. After spending some time with Wren, the four women were invited by Miss Samos to join her and her brother in the breakfast room, where he welcomed them hoping that Mrs. Skonos hadn’t found her daughter worse than what she had expected, but his hopes were partly dashed, although the woman later took care to compliment them profusely both on their kindness and on the wonderful estate they had rented.

“I hope you’re not going to leave us too quickly, even if the lease is short,” said Mrs. Barrow, who hadn’t yet uttered a word except for the customary greetings.

“Whatever I do, I do it quickly,” he replied, “and so if I had to decide to leave the Hall, I would probably leave in five minutes. For the moment, however, I consider it a stable accommodation.”

"That’s exactly what I would’ve imagined from you,” Mare said.

“I didn’t know,” Miss Samos interjected, “you were a student of characters. ”

“It must be a fun study,” noted her cousin, who had recently joined them along with General Calore.

“Yes, but the intricate characters are the funniest. At least they have that advantage,” she replied, casting a quick glance at Tiberias, who, feeling drawn into question, reminded her that the countryside wasn’t exactly the best testing ground for studies like that.

“In a countryside area one moves within a restricted and uniform social environment.”

“But people change so much that there is always something new to observe,” replied Mare, always ready to change his mind about his prejudices on simple people. If she had addressed any other gentleman like that, her mother would’ve reminded her of her place in the world but since it was General Calore, she was happy to take her daughter’s side, although not in the best of ways, to the point that her interlocutor, after giving her a long puzzled look, walked away in silence and even Lucas Samos found himself embarrassed.

“You have completely misunderstood my friend: he only meant that in the countryside there certainly can’t be the same amount of people you can find in town.”

“Nobody says otherwise, but as for not frequenting so many people in these parts, I think there are few places richer in neighbours. All I know is that we know twenty-four families.”

Nothing but the regard towards Mare allowed Lucas to keep himself serious. The cousin was less delicate, and gave her brother a very expressive smile. Mare, in order to divert her mother’s thoughts, asked her if Diana Farley had been visiting them since she was at the Hall.

“Yes, she came yesterday with her father, but she didn’t stop for lunch because her mother was waiting for her at home to make apple pie for her little sister’s birthday. The Farleys are really good girls, I assure you, and they are also very nice, but if they are with Wren or my daughters… they inevitably end up taking a back seat. That’s what everyone says, I don’t just trust my partiality.”

“When Wren was only fifteen,” Lady Skonos added, “there was a gentleman at my sister’s so in love with her that my brother-in-law was sure he would’ve declared himself before we could leave. Instead nothing came of it. Maybe he thought that she was too young. However, he wrote some verses about her, and they were very pretty.”

“And so his love ended,” Mare said impatiently. “There were more than one, I guess, that ended up like this. I often ask myself who was the first to discover the effectiveness of poem in chasing love away!”

Obviously the General didn’t share her idea, and was more than happy to point this out, interrupting his conversation with Miss Samos. Mare too had the answer ready, and their quarrel was followed by a long silence, which forced Mrs Skonos to thank the homeowner again for the kindness showed to her daughter, and Mrs Barrow to apologize for the inconvenience caused by Mare, who still didn’t have the slightest intention of leaving. Mr. Samos gave a spontaneous and courteous reply, and also forced his sister to behave in the same way, although she didn’t play her part gracefully enough not to allow Mare to notice that hers was all fiction. The two older women, however, seemed to be content and when Mrs Skonos ordered the carriage, Gisa stepped forward as if on command and asked Mr. Samos when he intended to give the ball his cousin had promised he would tell him about when they arrived in the countryside. Gisa was a strong and well-developed girl of fifteen, with a beautiful complexion and a cheerful expression; it was her mother’s favourite, whose affection had led her to make her entry into society at a very early age. She had a bursting vitality, a kind of innate self-confidence, that the officers’ attentions had turned into cheekiness, making her the perfect candidate to address Mr. Samos about a ball which, if not given, would’ve been the worst of shame on his honour, at least in her words.

"I’m perfectly ready,” he reassured her, “and when your friend has recovered, you will set the date of the party, if you please.”