The sun was too bright, even as Malisa tried to find the darkest alcove in the manor's library to meet Demetra. After the conversation with her mother, she was unable to sleep. Too much was said, and too many thoughts bombarded her mind even after hours of attempting to find sleep.

And now that the sun was above the horizon line, she attempted to get comfortable on the chaise tucked in the corner, but her body ached and her head was pounding with each obnoxious ray of sunlight that infiltrated her eyelids.

"You look horrible."

Malisa forced an eye open, immediately regretting it as the sunlight sent another jab of pain through her already pounding skull. Demetra, in her conservative dress and chocolate brown hair pinned on top of her head, assessed her with her storm grey eyes that seemed to intensify depending on the weather. Only a few years older than Malisa, Demetra was incredibly intelligent and well beyond her age, but she never made Malisa feel like she was anything less than— the complete opposite of her parents.

So much so, despite her personal hell, she gave her tutor a half-smile as she slowly propped herself up on an elbow.

"It was worth it," Malisa admitted. Under Demetra's assessing gaze, however, she now wished she had time to bathe before her lessons.

Her tutor took a seat on the edge of the plush chair across from her on the other side of the alcove, placing the books in her arms in a stack on her lap. "Are you ever going to tell me their name?"

"It's not important," Malisa murmured. The more information she kept to herself about Ander, the better they both would be. That her mother knew now was more than she ever wanted; if her father found out, he'd find some way to make it so they could never see each other ever again, and her chances of getting away from them once and for all— on her own terms— would be gone before she began.

"It might be," Demetra said thoughtfully. "I suppose, though, how serious can something be when you're too afraid to introduce them to your parents?"

"I'm not afraid!" Malisa sat up, too quickly, and immediately regretted it. Pressing a hand to her pounding head, she continued. "And what does it matter to you, anyway? I'm here, aren't I? I made sure to come home before you arrived."

"And it's still a wonder you did so without being caught. Again." Demetra signed." Have you ever considered... maybe... that the sneaking around might not be the healthiest thing for you? And perhaps you should consider someone your parents already approve of?"

Malisa groaned again, lying back down on the chaise and covering her eyes with her arm. "Are you here to tell me that I should accept that I'm nothing but a body to be sold to the highest bidder?"

"What?"

Demetra's tone alone told Malisa that was not the case, and she looked up at her mentor to see her pallor had grown quite pale.

"You're being sold?" Demetra's tone remained incredulous.

"Well... somewhat." Malisa sat up, now facing Demetra. "Last night my father insinuated as such, but I just need to bide my time until I can finally find my way out of here—"

"You could come with me."

Malisa wasn't sure she heard her correctly, but the look on Demetra's face told her she had.

"What good would that do?"

"It would give you the chance to find yourself, to discover who you truly are outside of your parents' smothering. And I could continue to teach you, and—"

"You sound like you've put a lot of thought into this."

Was that a blush Malisa saw on her tutor's cheeks? It was still hard to focus through the exhaustion.

"I know what's best for you, and remaining here, with whatever they have planned, isn't it."

"Is that why you asked if my lessons could be moved to your home?"

A nod. "I still believe you'd learn more with a broader selection of texts. And it would give you the chance to grow—"

"As a student?"

"As a person."

There was something else Demetra was hinting at, something else was on her mind, but whether it was because she was tired or naive, Malisa could not figure it out. She didn't want to waste the time on it either, not when her father had threatened to send Demetra away soon. But she was there, which meant her father hadn't yet told her of his decision, which meant they still had some time...

"What are you doing here?"

Or, they did have time.

Demetra was on her feet, immediately straightening her dress and replacing her perfect hair as Lord Boreas stood in the entryway of the alcove. Her father's face was a stoic as ever, black eyes beneath a bald head, as devoid of emotion as she'd ever known. He wore no color— a black tunic beneath a black jacket, heavy black pants, and black leather boots. He wore his thick wool cloak over his shoulder, clasped with his silver insignia.

"L-Lord Boreas," Demetra stammered. "Good morning."

"What are you doing here?" he snapped.

"I- I am here for Miss Malisa's lessons. As I have come every morning... sir."

"I am here to tell you your services are no longer required."

"What?" Malisa sat up, faster than she should have, and steadied herself before looking her father straight on. "You said I had until you found me a husband."

"I said that now that you are of age, you need to be available for whomever I choose, whenever I choose them, and in the meantime, I will not have you distracted by useless lessons."

"My Lord," Demetra interjected. "I assure you, Malisa's lessons are not useless, and if you believe she is not learning as much as she should be, I can assure you that we can increase our time together if only I could bring her to my own home—"

"There will be no need for that." Her father stood straighter, his attention solely on Demetra. "You are no longer required. I will send guards to assist in removing you from the property at once."

"That's not necessary," Malisa snapped, jumping to her feet. "There must be some misunderstanding—"

"There is no misunderstanding," her father grumbled. "You will not question my authority, and will comply with my demand."

"Your demands are shit."

"Malisa."

"No," she hissed at her tutor and turned back to her father with a fervor she never felt before. After everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, after everything her mother told her, she was so tired of her father and his demands and supposed authority.

"You are treading on thin ice," he warned, his teeth clenched as he contained the temper of a man rarely challenged.

"Then let me fall," she challenged. "Let me go."

"Why would I do that?" The hint of a smirk dared show itself on his lips. "You're far too valuable to remove the leash and let you run free."

"You're comparing me to livestock?"

"I'm comparing you to currency. You're worth more when I know your value than if I allowed you to roam free with the potential of being tainted."

Now it was Malisa's turn to hint at a smirk. His father noticed it enough to cast her a glare before turning his attention to Demetra. "You are dismissed."

Not even a thank you as he turned on his heel, his boots clicking over the polished wooden floor of the library. Watching his walk away, Malisa saw he was true to his word- there were two manor guards posted at the library doors, awaiting Demetra's exit.

"We can fight this," Malisa pleaded with her tutor. "You don't need to listen to him— you can stay, there has to be a way we can beat him—"

But Demetra wasn't listening, not in the sense Malisa thought. Instead, she was watching Malisa while she was clearing the distance between them in the alcove, having tossed aside the books she previously held in her arms.

"Demetra, what are you—"

Her hands were warm and her lips soft as Demetra's mouth pressed against Malisa's. Though it surprised her, Malisa did not move away. Rather, her hands gripped Demetra's waist, keeping her close. For too long was she starved of affection— that Demetra, of all people, cared enough for her to chance such an encounter... Malisa was not going to forfeit such an opportunity.

Ander would understand.

The kiss only intensified with each passing moment, with Demetra growing bolder with her intentions. If not for the guards she knew were waiting for her mentor to take her leave, Malisa would have allowed her to lay her on the chaise and do as she pleased. But she knew their time was limited, and pulled away from the kiss before the guards forced them to otherwise.

Demetra's cheeks were flushed and her eyes wide as she watched Malisa intently. Malisa knew she looked the same, her heart was pounding hard against her ribs.

"Come with me," Demetra whispered. "It doesn't have to be forever— just long enough for you to get your feet underneath you, away from here."

"What— right now?!"

"Why not? We both heard your father. The sooner you get out of here, the better off you'll be. And we can continue your studies while we figure out what we're going to do—"

"This is a lot of we're being talked about, and I— as much as I appreciate the offer I can't just leave with you, not when—"

Malisa hesitated. Not when she had Ander making similar plans. Not when Ander and her had promised to leave together, once and for all. But Ander wasn't as established as Demetra, and how much weight did promises have between the sheets? But she couldn't just tell Demetra no— she meant too much to her, as a friend and as... well, whatever this now was.

"I know..." Demetra started, took a deep breath, and began again. "I know you have something in mind. I understand that. But I only want what's best for you, Lis. I only ever did. That's why I stayed here, despite your father's hatred and your mother's nonchalant attitude. I stayed for you because I know you deserved better. And if all I could offer you was my knowledge to help you become a better woman, I was going to give you everything I had."

"Demi..." Malisa never knew her tutor felt this way. Yes, they were close, but only in such a way friends had been. They saw each other almost every day when her father allowed it, and Malisa always acknowledged her as an intellectual who would know more than she ever could.

She had no idea about this additional layer.

She didn't know what to do about it but also knew she needed to talk to Ander. There was too much happening too fast and she didn't want to leave him behind in the whirlwind.

"You should leave," Malisa whispered but cut Demetra off before she could argue. "Walk out with the guards, return home. There's something I need to do first but I will meet you there later. ANd we can talk more freely. I promise."

"A promise is a heavy burden to carry."

"Then it will be mine to bear."

The sounds of footfalls on the wooden floor had Malisa's hands nudge Demetra's shoulders. "Go. We'll see each other soon."

But Demetra dared to give her another meaningful kiss, pressing a folded piece of paper into her hand before she stepped back to gather up her discarded books. "I will see you again," she said over her shoulder, her once perfectly placed hair now falling into her face.

Malisa bit her lip as she watched her mentor quickly walk the length of the library towards the guards waiting for her. One cast a glance back towards her before they both followed Demetra from the library. Remembering the paper crumpled in her fist, she opened it— it was Demetra's address. Stuffing it into the bodice of her dress, Malisa counted to one hundred before she took her leave, not daring to approach the front halls but rather remaining in the back servant stairwells she was so accustomed to.

She needed to talk to Ander. She had more than one promise to keep.