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Josephine tosses and turns, her mind restless and anxious, refusing to grant her the solace of sleep.
It feels surreal, almost like a dream she can't shake off. As she settles into wakefulness, she begins to dissect the events of the previous day with a newfound clarity.
The presence of her aunt feels tangible, dispelling any notion that she might be a mere creation of her mind's torment.
Shifting onto her side, Josie can't help but notice the opulence of the room around her, a stark reminder of the wealth Nyla seems to possess.
With dawn creeping in, Josephine decides it's futile to attempt further sleep. An undercurrent of nervous energy pulses through her, urging her to embrace the day ahead.
Rising from the bed, she retrieves an outfit from her trunk, opting for comfort in a pair of black flare jeans and a simple, loose shirt. Adorning herself with her jewelry, her fingers linger on the bracelet gifted by Regulus, its presence now a source of solace.
Her thoughts briefly drift to the generosity of Regulus, evoking a pang of guilt that she hastily pushes aside. With a deep breath, she resolves to confront the day ahead with composure.
Descending the grand staircase, Josephine follows the faint sounds emanating from downstairs, eventually finding her way to the kitchen where Nyla is already bustling about.
"Good morning," Josephine greets with a lightness to her voice, stepping into the kitchen to join her aunt.
Nyla flinches momentarily but quickly turns towards Josephine with a warm smile. "Good morning," she greets, her voice carrying a hint of uncertainty. "I wasn't sure what you liked, so..." She gestures towards the kitchen island, which is adorned with an array of plates, each laden with food.
"I suppose I got too nervous and made too much," Nyla admits sheepishly, a playful glint in her eyes.
"It's alright," Josephine reassures her with a smile as she approaches. "It smells delicious."
"Help yourself to whatever you fancy, and there are drinks over there," Nyla offers, indicating the counter, before serving herself and settling at the kitchen bar on one of the stools.
Josephine hesitates for a moment, surveying the plethora of options laid out before her. Eventually, she settles on a plate with the smallest serving and pours herself a glass of orange juice before taking a seat, leaving a chair's space between her and Nyla.
"So, you're going into your seventh year, right?" Nyla initiates, prompting what seems like the beginning of a getting-to-know-you conversation.
"Yes," Josephine confirms.
"What house are you in?"
"Ravenclaw."
Nyla's smile widens. "Knew it," she murmurs, a hint of pride evident in her tone.
