What an unflattering morning.

Isabelline stared down at her dusty red dress while Headmistress Dayrit read through the paper in her hand. She couldn't get over the state of her attire, not to mention her chafed elbows and chin, and to make matters worse a sniffle from her nose was not just the result of an overwhelming scent of vanilla in the office, but it also implied Fawn had been right about catching colds.

Speaking of, Fawn did not look bothered in the least by their situation. In fact, most exaggeratedly unbothered. It was just like her to welcome trouble. Anything to appear more rebellious than she was.

"Unauthorized unburial," Dayrit read aloud, causing Isabelline to flinch. "Resurrection of the dead in an attempt to neglect studies, borrowing a ceremonial crowbar without permission, coming to class in an unacceptable condition..."

She glanced up at the two girls and their grimy attires.

"... and ultimately failing to complete their history essays on time."

"I simply do not understand how being ambitious is a crime?" Isabelline rolled her shoulders back upon the inspection of her current state, pushing a pinkish blonde lock of hair that had fallen out of her hairdo behind her ear. "I thought this was a school for innovation."

"It is a crime for individuals to dig up corpses, Lady Freysdóttir."

"Even—"

"Even if ten years have passed." Dayrit folded the paper and placed it on the desk in front of her. "Maurice De Meyer was buried in a graveyard and is only to be unburied during a ceremony conducted by a priest. Whether that is after ten years or when he is deemed Unclaimed, does not matter."

"All right, but crimes aside..." Isabelline acknowledged Dayrit's raised eyebrow at the sentence and straightened her back further. "... I do think our essays should leave nothing to be desired. After I subdued Mr. De Meyer—"

"You subdued the corpse?"

"Well someone had to retrieve him." Isabelline sent Fawn a pointed look. "And since no one else wanted to do it..."

"I was holding the lantern."

"And what good did it do me when I was chasing across the graveyard in heels?" Isabelline dropped her posture and raised a muddy shoe in Fawn's direction. "I could have broken my ankle in the dark, and running in a dress is not as easy as running in pants."

"I told you to buy a pair." Fawn in turn gestured down at her teal pants recently decorated with mud stains on the knees.

"And I told you I won't."

"But you've restored the body to its grave?" Dayrit wanted clarified and the girls nodded, with Isabelline gesturing down at her dress.

"Hence our 'unacceptable condition'. Fawn did in fairness help me wrestle him into place at the end."

"And my makeup got smudged," Fawn added to that. "And this color is not cheap."

Dayrit sighed, removing her glasses to rub the bridge of her nose.

"I will look into consequences for the graveyard ordeal, but for now, let's address the essay."

"I do think, if I may, Professor Thorn was too hasty with her judgement," Isabelline blurted out. "Even if our methods were unconventional we still found valuable insight into some events."

Dayrit hummed, picking up the folded piece of paper again to read a paragraph further down.

"Professor Thorn says you claimed Maurice De Meyer was framed by a deranged group of Gralians and did in fact not commit half the crimes he did."

"Yes." Isabelline excitedly pointed to the paper. "I managed to ask him while shoving him back down, and the books don't bring that up."

"And I assume the possibility that a person might lie to save face did not occur to you?" Dayrit looked no more impressed than before. "Especially when they're a known bigot who hated the Gralians with passion even before the war."

Isabelline sucked air through her teeth.

"Ah. Well..."

"Lady Freysdóttir, I do commend you for trying to find new angles, but the books are there for a reason. You need the basics to understand the whole picture."

Dayrit proceeded to look at Fawn.

"And I must say, I expected better from you, young Lady Hargreaves."

"But why?" Fawn protested. "I've done nothing to deserve high expectations!"

"It's not that I think you were responsible for this idea," the headmistress continued. "You were just trying to support your friend and ended up led astray, but this is the third time this has happened just these past two months."

"No, I was in on it!" Fawn threw her hands up, not about to stand for the same coddling treatment a third time. "I'm not some innocent bystander! Give me some credit!"

"I understand it's difficult to come from a well known family, but you cannot fight the expectations by creating some rebellious persona." Dayrit folded her hands. "You excel academically at all other times when you're not involved in situations like this. You both do, actually, but this needs to stop."

"So do we just... redo our essays?" Isabelline asked, patting a defeated Fawn's shoulder. "That should be easy enough if we're expected to use the same old material as everyone else."

"No, I have something else in mind." Dayrit smirked. Smirked. The first time she had ever done such a thing, which couldn't possibly be good. "As I understand it, you're planning a trip to Pollyworth this weekend for the Eve of the Unclaimed, Lady Freysdóttir?"

Isabelline looked to the side with her lips pinched together, sensing dismay in her imminent future.

"Mmmmyes..."

"As you may have heard, the founding headmaster of this school, Hortensio Fenwick, is scheduled for an unburial at that event," Dayrit continued. "And some of his bones are bequeathed to this school, so I want you to write an essay on Mr. Fenwick and his history and relationship to the school."

Isabelline's heart sank, and she scoured through her head for a sob story tragic enough to get her out of the punishment.

"So I have to watch the unburial?" She tried to look faint. "It's just... I've always found it a bit macabre to witness up clo—"

"You just wrestled a corpse down into a casket, Lady Freysdóttir. A corpse you reanimated in the first place."

"Very well." Isabelline straightened her spine again, placing her hands on her hips in an attempt to look imperious. "I'll bet if I'm quick enough about it— which I always am— I can write the essay and have time for the festival."

"So you're aware, I will send someone to keep an eye on you." Dayrit apparently liked to squash optimism. "Miss Duffy also failed her essay which was specifically about Fenwick, or rather, did not write it at all, and has been tasked with the same assignment as you."

"Maeve?" Isabelline made a face. "She failed an assignment?"

"And therefore someone from the staff needs to make certain the two of you complete your tasks."

"The two of us?" Isabelline blinked. "As in... Maeve and I? Maeve, who is not Fawn?"

Fawn looked appropriately aghast once more as Dayrit nodded.

"You're saying I'm not being punished? But I was there!"

"I am willing to let it slide this time, but—"

Fawn groaned. "You're just sucking up to my family!"

"No, Fawn... It's all right." Isabelline took Fawn's hands. "You go to the festival and celebrate properly. Eat, drink, laugh... and then when we meet again, you can tell me about the world outside of the graveyard."

"We're not imprisoning you in a graveyard." Dayrit looked exhausted at that point. "Like you said, if you finish the essay you're free to enjoy the rest of the eve, and I'm certain Professor Kapani will find no issue with that."

Both Isabelline and Fawn slumped their shoulders.

"Kapani?" Fawn asked, and Isabelline shook her head at their headmistress.

"You monster."

"He's working part time nowadays but I managed to persuade him into accompanying you, so it's the best option."

"So less festival," Isabelline mumbled. "And then Maeve, and then Professor Kapani."

"I got your back though," Fawn promised, ignoring the exasperated Dayrit in the background. "I'll buy all the things you want. Anything I can find that you might like."

Isabelline smiled softly.

"And if I find something you might like in the graveyard, I'll bring it to you."

"Don't actually do that, though."