After ten minutes of begging and persuading, Vigil's parents finally agreed to let her eat in the dining room and not in bed. She yanked on a glittery party dress and tied a thick headband over her bandage, humming to herself. 

Margaret had come in while she was powdering her face, and chuckled. "You aren't going to a party, Vigil."

Vigil stuck a peacock feather into the side of the headband and pulled plum-colored pumps on. "Am I trying too hard?"

Margaret shrugged. "He will definitely notice you," She replaced the colorful feather with a delicate white one. "Just to tone it down a bit."

Vigil looked at the loud green plume in her hand and laughed at herself. "Thank you, Margaret," She said. "For helping me to know when to stop."

Margaret merely rolled her eyes. "Horsefeathers. Now go on out there."

Vigil rushed down the stairs to the dining room, where her family was just taking their seats. She took her place next to her mother, although she gazed longingly at the empty chair next to James, who had combed his hair, washed his face, and was decked out in one of Clarence's tailcoats.

Clarence's fiance was among them, her auburn hair in an old fashioned bun and her dress still reaching her toes. She looked happy to be there, nonetheless, and Vigil kept an open mind.

"Lady Martha, is it?" Eleanor asked, looking fondly across the table at her son's fiance. Vigil supposed Eleanor was wishing her own daughter was as just down-to-earth. "Martha Edwards?"

The girl dabbed at her bare lips. "Yes, ma'am. My family would like to send their love."

"How nice," Eleanor said, studying her admirably. Vigil squirmed in her seat and tried to catch James' eye.

"So, Mr. Lancaster," Albert said when the second course was served. "Where are you from?"

"Liege, Belgium," James said, setting down his fork. "I wanted to start fresh in London after the air raid."

Albert nodded thoughtfully. "Wise move."

"Do you have family here?" Eleanor said, smiling falsely.

James' gaze dropped to the porcelain dish in front of him. "No, my mother— my family—was killed in the war."

Albert looked as if he was searching for a change of subject, but Eleanor kept speaking. "How terrible. It must have been awful to lose both parents at once."

"Yes, well, luckily not at once."

"Then what happened?" Eleanor pushed. Albert was gripping his soup spoon and struggling to meet his wife's eyes.

James cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Uh, well, my father was killed before I was born, and my mother was killed in the air raid."

"Must have been terrible to lose her husband." Martha said, her genuine look of sympathy contrasting Eleanor's phony one.

James wet his lips and finally spoke after a beat. "Yes... husband."

"Anyone up for dessert?" Albert said loudly, clapping his hands together. "I want some dessert."

Vigil studied James as he played with the corner of his napkin. After dinner, she caught him before he could escape. He looked back to his old self, with the suit returned to Clarence and his hair popped up from his head again.

"I haven't thanked you properly," She said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Stupid, she thought. You should have left that there for him to brush away.

"Anyone would have done it," James said. "Especially for you." He added quietly.

She traced the lines in her palms. "I'm really sorry about my mother."

James shook his head. "She was just curious, that's all."

Vigil opened her mouth to deny it, but decided otherwise. If she wanted James and her family to get along, they couldn't have anything to resent each other for.

"I think she's just shocked, that's all." Vigil said.

James nodded. "I don't blame her, and you shouldn't either. She's only looking through the time old lenses of thousands of generations. There is a difference in upper and lower, it's just how it has always been."

Vigil sighed. "Not this conversation again."

"Of course," James laughed. "Politics aren't always the most appealing topic in the world."

They didn't say anything for awhile, simply just looked at each other. It would have felt awkward with anyone else, but Vigil felt completely comfortable. Like they had a silent understanding between the two of them to just be together, nothing else was needed.

The peaceful quiet was suddenly interrupted by laughter and heavy footsteps. Vigil blinked and looked away, James did the same.

"I should be getting home," He said quickly, grabbing his hat.

Vigil watched as he thanked her parents for the dinner and Clarence shook his hand like they were old friends.

"You're coming back tomorrow, aren't you?" She whispered right as he was heading out.

"I'm the gardener," He said. "Of course I will."

"I'm always free, you know," She said quietly, glancing back at her parents. "And it gets a bit slow around here, with nothing but my notebook to keep me company."

"Keep writing," He said, pulling her damp notebook out from his trouser pocket and pressing it into her hand. "I'd pay twenty dollars for the moss sonnet."