The next morning, Riona was jolted awake by a bucket of cold water splashed over her. As she came to her senses, she looked up to see the maids smirking, holding the bucket.
"Good morning, my lady," they sneered, stifling giggles. "It's time for your lessons, as the Marquis planned." They threw a tattered dress onto her bed, one so shabby that even the maids wouldn't wear it.
Riona sighed. "At least let me dry off first."
One maid scoffed, "You should've woken up earlier. You don't have time. Get up and dressed ,the tutor won't wait for a beggar." Riona glanced out the window to find it was still dark but knew she had no choice. She sighed, resigned, and got ready, feeling as if she'd just crawled out of a mud puddle.
At the study, she knocked on the door but got no answer. The maids laughed behind her. "Looks like he doesn't want to see you," one said, nudging her. "Go on in."
Suspicious, Riona slowly opened the door, only for the maids to shove her inside and lock the door behind her. "That's what a rat gets for trying to climb the social ladder," they taunted. Left alone, Riona knew yelling wouldn't help, so she sat down and, exhausted, dozed off.
In her dream, she saw herself lying in a field of grass beside Zane. Nearby, Leoni played with another child. Riona turned to Zane. "You know, I call Leoni 'Leo,' and you all call me 'Ria,' but I don't have a special name for you."
Zane scoffed. "Just call me what you always have."
"No! I want to call you something special," she insisted, studying him thoughtfully. "Golden? Puppy? Coco?" she teased. Zane, exasperated, finally yelled, "Enough! Zane is fine."
Just then, the sun broke through the clouds, casting light on his face. Mesmerized, Riona whispered, "Sun…" He didn't hear her, so he asked, "What did you say?"
She grinned. "Sun! I'll call you Sun—my Sun!"
A silence fell between them before Zane turned bright red. "M-My…Sun? Are you crazy?" he stammered, jumping up, still blushing furiously. "No! You're calling me Zane!" And with that, he stormed off, but Riona had already made up her mind. "The Sun and the lion, huh? How fun."
Suddenly, the memory faded as a sharp light hit her eyes, waking her up. "Hmm… Zane?" she mumbled.
"Little lady? What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in class?" It was the butler. "Wait…why are you like this?"
"Gramps…wait, what time is it?" she asked, jolting awake.
"It's past breakfast, nearly lunchtime."
Riona bolted up but was stopped by the butler. "Where are you going?"
"To class! I can still make it!"
"Miss, even if you go now, you can't attend looking like this. How did this happen?"
"It's not important. I just need to go," she insisted, rushing to the classroom door. Out of breath, she knocked—no answer. She knocked again, and finally, a stern voice replied, "Come in."
When she entered, she was surprised to find a young-looking man reading a book, not even glancing her way.
"Hello, sir. I am Riona, your student. Sorry, I'm late, I—"
"I don't have students who are late," he cuts her off, glancing at her with a cold gaze. "And I certainly don't have students who arrive looking like beggars. Tsk, what did I expect from a commoner?"
Fearing the consequences if he left, Riona quickly bows low and says, "Please, give me one more chance. You won't regret it."
The teacher casts a fleeting glance at her before returning to his book. "I don't give second chances."
Despite this, Riona remains in her bow, unmoving. An hour passes with the teacher engrossed in his book, then two. Finally, he slams the book shut in irritation. "I said no second chances!"
"Please! If you don't accept me, they'll throw me out of the house," Riona says, still bowed.
He sighs. "Fine, but I don't tolerate foolish students. Name one philosopher you know."
"Alaric Mortensen," she responds instantly, catching him off guard. "He's known for his book, The Anatomy of Suffering: A Discourse on Pain and Healing."
"Hmph. Anyone can know the title," he says, challenging her.
Without hesitation, Riona recites, "The book delves into the nature of human suffering, challenging conventional views on pain and healing. Alaric Mortensen explores the boundaries between physical and emotional pain, arguing that true healing requires more than treating symptoms—it demands understanding suffering's roots within the mind and spirit. He blends philosophy, early medical insights, and human experience to suggest that embracing pain, rather than merely eradicating it, leads to a more profound sense of resilience."
Her words leave him speechless. Finally, he rises, heading toward the door.
"Wait, where are you going? Please, sir, I know more!"
"Edrick Thornbriar," he replies. "Know the name of your teacher."
Riona smiles in relief as he opens the door, pausing only to say, "By next time, bring a list of every philosopher you know. And don't lie. I'll be asking questions. And for goddess sake wear clean clothes"
"Yes, teacher."
With a smirk, he mutters, "Not bad for a commoner," before closing the door.
The moment he's gone, Riona's legs give way, and she breathes, "My goddess! That was close," letting out a shaky laugh. But then she freezes. "Wait. My family! I need to remind the lady!" She bolts out the door.