The Rogue Guardian

Chapter 41: A Walk in the City

Irina had pulled some strings to get Nemia off from training. At least, so Nemia assumed, because she was never let go from training just like that, except on holidays. Even when she'd trained too many days in a row to go another in the training yards, she was expected to sit in the library with yet another instructor. Of course, Nemia loved the library more than any other room in the castle, so those days were better than others, but even the comfort of tall shelves stacked with thousands of books began to wear off under the hours of reviewing strategies and forms.

Once, just once, she'd like a day in the library to read whatever she wanted. If only she got enough to sleep to keep the words from blurring...

"Nemia?"

Nemia blinked rapidly, trying to get her bearings. She was facing a shelf of books-- the library? No, she was just thinking about the library, but this wasn't it-- Irina's room. Right.

She stepped away from the bookshelf. "What?"

Irina frowned at her. "You zoned out again. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm tired."

"You're always tired." She looked really worried now. Well, Nemia was worried too, and she wasn't making a fuss about it!

She choked down laughter at her own internal joke. It would only make Irina more concerned.

"Do you have tea?" Irina always had tea or something else ready for her, an unnervingly perfect hostess.

"Yes, but try on the dress first." Irina pushed a pile of fabric into her arms and nudged her toward the other room. "If it doesn't fit we'll have to find someone else you can borrow from. Lady Anna might be your size--"

Nemia shuddered. "I'll make it fit."

Irina let out the most unladylike snort Nemia had ever caught her making. "I don't blame you. I don't know why she dresses the way she does."

Nemia's reluctance had everything to do with not wanting to interact with other nobles more than absolutely necessary and nothing to do with Lady Anna's sense of style, but she found it was nice to have made Irina laugh. A little like making Morie laugh-- though Morie laughed at different things. If Nemia wanted to make Morie laugh she just made a theatrical face in her direction while Sam or Nick were complaining about something, or stuck things in her braid when she wasn't looking for her to find when she took it out at the end of the day--

"Nemia."

"What?"

Irina gave her an exasperated look.

"Oh. Sorry. I'll go try it on now." Trying not to go completely red, she backed into the other room and shut the door.

On the other side she could hear the clinking of cups as Irina poured tea. "Really, Nemia, do you sleep at all?"

"Occasionally," she said, without thinking as she pulled the dress over her head.

"Do you mean that or are you joking?"

"Uh, joking. I sleep plenty."

The silence on the other side of the door seemed tinged with disbelief.

"How am I supposed to tie this?" She finally asked. All of her clothes were sensible training tunics and such. If she'd ever had to deal with a dress like this Morie or Cara had certainly done it for her. Well, most likely Cara, given Morie's track record with dresses.

"Does it look like it fits?"

"I suppose."

"Then I'll do the back for you."