The Skyhome Academy

The dining room of the Spellshield Manor was a well-appointed space. Winter Solstice decorations, including a number of imperfect paper snowflakes cut out by Aldus, adorned the room. A pair of paintings rested on one wall—and though Rose was familiar with them, her gaze fell on the detailed compositions.

The first portrait was a five-year-old representation of the Spellshield family. The younger Rose sat in a chair, with her baby brother in her lap. Behind them stood their parents and surviving grandparents. The former head of the Spellshield family had white hair and bushy eyebrows. His younger wife was an elegant figure, with long gray hair worn up. Rose’s father and grandparents wore their dress uniforms, though the latter were in a dated style.

As for the other painting, it was considerably older. Rose’s then eleven-year-old mother stood with her two older brothers and parents. All of them had a dour look, and they were dressed in an absurdly elaborate style—unlike the Spellshields, the Staffords were a very old noble family.

“Ah, here comes the bird,” Rose’s father said, drawing the younger noble from her distraction. One of the household servants placed the stuffed chicken on the dining room table and then withdrew. A variety of other dishes were already present.

Rose’s family, along with Emma and Old Bea—whom she now mentally included in that group—were seated at one end of the long table. Aldus sat squirming in his raised chair, wearing an adorable little suit. The serfs looked nervous, as their participation in the festivities was unprecedented. But of course, this was the one day of the year where even Rose’s mother had hardly objected to her etiquette-defying invitations.

At the head of the table, the family’s mage raised his glass. “Happy Solstice everyone! And happy birthday, Rose.”

“Happy Solstice,” the rest of the group repeated, clinking their glasses together. Rose then received birthday well-wishes from everyone else. She somewhat regretted being born on the twenty-second of December—it would have been nice to receive presents three times a year.

As the feast’s participants began scooping food on their plates and passing dishes around, Rose spoke. “Bea, did you know that Emma was first in class rank this semester?”

“That’s wonderful, Dear,” she said, stopping to hug her granddaughter.

“I only just squeaked by Princess Mei,” Emma elaborated. “And it’s lucky the combat exams are pass/fail, since I was mediocre at best.”

“Dad, maybe we could include Emma when we practice?” Rose asked.

“That would give me less time to work with you one-on-one.”

“I don’t mind. She’s going to be one of our support casters once I’m a squire—wouldn’t it be a good idea to make sure she’s trained up?”

“Aren’t you worried about the tournament?”

“Of course I am—but the war’s a bit more important.”

“That’s true.” The mage looked to Emma. “Can you handle extra practice with your current duties?”

“Yes, My Lord. I’d truly appreciate your help.” He nodded in reply.

Rose then heard Emma’s voice in her head. “Thanks.” The healer had learned how to maintain a short range mind link in her telepathy class.

“We are going to kick butt together,” Rose sent back.

“Are you two sending to each other?” her father asked. While it was not possible for others to listen in on a mind link without invasive spells, talented spellcasters could passively sense magical energy being used.

“It doesn’t hurt to get in some telepathy practice now and then,” Rose answered lightly.

“Rose, I just don’t know what’s gotten into you lately,” her mother said. “You were sent to the intendent’s office twice, and now you’re inviting peasants to dinner and carrying on with them. You even asked one to the Winter Formal!

“Maybe you think that I keep reminding you of etiquette because I’m a joyless fusspot. But I’m concerned—all your life, you’re going to be judged for how you conduct yourself as a noble. And it isn’t fair, but women are treated worse when we act out of turn.”

“Mage Isabel isn’t prim and proper,” Rose protested.

Her father shook his head sadly. “As much as I try to discourage it, the soldiers do talk about her behind her back. And for all her talent, she was never given an aerial squad. …⁠You have to consider what Baron Margas and his son will think of you, if you want to rise through the ranks.”

“Lord Jame already hates my guts, in case you didn’t notice,” Rose pointed out. “If I don’t advance, I can live with that—I just want to help bring peace to the kingdom.”

“But you don’t want Prince Robert to think of you as strange, do you?” Rose’s mother asked.

She was forced to consider this. “…⁠If the prince can’t handle anything outside of what’s normal, then he’s not my type.”

Her mother gave a sad sigh. “I know that at your age you want to rebel against—don’t you dare fling those potatoes, Mister!”

Aldus, who was pulling his mashed potato-laden fork back like it was a catapult, froze. He then put the food in his mouth instead. As he chewed, he gave his mother a petulant look.

“Still like throwing stuff?” Rose playfully asked her little brother. He grinned.

“We’ll continue this discussion later, Young Lady,” Rose’s mother told her. She then looked to her husband. “…⁠I blame your mother for her turning out so stubborn.”

“You’d blame my mother for famines and plagues if you could,” he answered teasingly.

“Both your parents set bad examples—like missing the Winter Solstice so they can keep gallivanting around overseas. It isn’t respectable!”

“You know how they hate the cold. …⁠But let’s not worry about all that,” Rose’s father said. Everyone had since finished gathering their food, and he addressed the table. “For now—praise the Gods, and let’s eat!”

While the rest of group started in on their meals, Old Bea drew a moon necklace out from beneath her clothes and silently gripped it with her head down.

“Is she saying grace?” Rose sent.

Emma nodded. “She’s pretty religious.”

“I didn’t even know that. Sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“Well, I’m going to start proving that I can be a good sister right after this meal—I have a surprise for you.”

Emma smiled. “I can’t wait!”

After dinner, the two girls arrived in Rose’s room. They were each carrying a few boxes of the noble’s solstice gifts. Emma managed to turn on the light switch with her elbow before closing the door behind them with her foot. Both girls placed the boxes on the floor.

Rose then flopped down onto her bed and rested on her back. She gave a dramatic sigh. “That could have gone better—I was really hoping my parents would be nicer to you and Bea.”

“It’s only natural for people to follow social conventions—no one wants to be an outcast.” Emma then sat on the edge of the bed. “And it’s still nice to be home.”

“You’re right. As great as the academy is, I missed everyone. I even missed the smell of the ocean.”

Emma nodded. “Anyway, you shouldn’t feel badly about dinner. Maybe it was a little awkward, but it could have gone worse.”

“Yeah—it was no Winter Formal,” the noble said with a laugh. She then sat up. “You know, you haven’t told me how the formal went for you.”

“It was fine.”

“Just fine?”

“Well, Simon was nice. It’s just that big social events like that make me so nervous. I didn’t even really want to go—I just thought that anxiety wasn’t a good reason to turn down the invitation.”

“You don’t have to do stuff like that to be with someone,” Rose pointed out. She had been hesitant to ask directly, but she wanted to know how Emma felt about Simon.

“I suppose…”

“You shouldn’t give up while there’s hope—not if you like him. Any boy would be lucky to court you, Emma.”

“Thanks, but that’s not it. …⁠I like spending time with him, but I don’t feel more than that. Sometimes, I see you look at Simon a certain way…and whatever that emotion is, I haven’t felt it yet.”

“This isn’t another attempt to step aside for my sake, is it?”

“I promise it’s not. I’m just not ready for romance.”

“Well, it’s true that we can’t all be worldly fifteen-year-olds like myself,” Rose joked. “Of course, there’s downsides to hitting my age—your eyesight starts to go, your bones turn brittle. And damn kids never get off your lawn.”

Emma covered her mouth and laughed. But she then answered in a serious tone. “If Simon is still interested in me when we get back to the academy, I’m going to tell him that I’m not ready for dating yet.”

“If you’re sure that’s really what you want…?”

The healer nodded. “I hope you don’t mind me giving your advice back to you—but I think Simon still likes you, so you shouldn’t give up if you like him too.”

“It’s not that simple. I can’t imagine he could still respect me after I was such a jerk. And there’s another problem—he doesn’t want to be a soldier. I still want someone to share my dream with.”

“You might not always feel that way,” Emma pointed out. “It could be nice to have someone waiting safe at home for you, instead of worrying that he’s always in danger. And it’s not as if dating or even courtship is a commitment to marry—you could just see how things go.”

“That’s true. But anyway, things with Simon might be weird for a while. I’d rather be sure our friendship is still okay before I worry about anything more.”

Emma nodded before Rose continued. “Oh, I almost forgot about my surprise.” She reached under her bed and pulled out a wrapped present.

“You didn’t have to do that. But I have something too.” The healer went over to Rose’s desk.

“You shouldn’t have gotten me anything—you hardly have any spending money. …⁠That reminds me, I should start sharing my allowance with you.”

Emma pulled a card from one of the desk drawers. “I don’t think that your parents would want me spending your money.”

Rose laughed. “Who cares about that? …⁠You know, you don’t have to protest every time I try to do something nice for you.”

“Sorry. Force of habit,” Emma said with smile. She returned to the bed and they exchanged gifts.

“You first.”

Emma unwrapped the book. “It’s The Healer’s Standards of Care. The expanded edition! Thank you so much.”

“Look inside the cover.”

She opened the book to the note Rose had written. Emma, I know there isn’t one grand gesture that can erase the hurt I caused by keeping you in my shadow. But I promise to keep trying to make things right every day. Please tell me when I mess up, and be patient with me!

Your Loving Sister, Rose

When Emma looked up, her eyes were watering. “That’s so sweet! Please read mine now.”

Rose properly took in the cover of the homemade card, which was white and covered with elaborate, symmetrical blue snowflakes that must have been drawn using a ruler. In the center was written Happy Birthday and Winter Solstice! “I hope it’s not too childish, but it’s the best I could do,” Emma explained. “I had to use your old art supplies⁠—”

“I love it,” the noble reassured her. She opened the card and read. Rose, I’m so happy that we’ve become closer. I don’t want you to feel guilty about the past, because I always knew you cared. I have so many wonderful memories thanks to you! Playing by the creek in the woods, sharing your grandmother’s cookies, helping you build your models. You’ve already been a better sister than you know, and your dedication inspires me every day. —Love, Emma

It was Rose’s turn to become tearful. “Thank you. You’re always so kind! …⁠Happy Solstice, Emma.”

“Happy Solstice, Rose.” They shared a hug, and the noble felt so grateful that her family had grown.