Things settled back into a rhythm, or at least something close to what Q imagined "normal" looked like in a place like RAPS.
She still had her lessons with Lady Orita, who continued to tower over them with her razor-sharp gaze and unrelenting expectations. Q had grown somewhat accustomed to the sound of the ruler snapping against the table when her posture faltered or her curtsy wasn't quite deep enough. She had even developed a strange appreciation for Lady Orita's standards, as exhausting as they were.
