Parchment and sandalwood.

Her fingers brushed the spines of leather-bound volumes — gleaming ones, fraying ones, furiously bound ones with a couple of loose parchment peeking out from the top, dog-eared corners. Psychology, ethics, geography. A scholar's heaven. A common girl's secret hideaway. Teetering stacks of books, she dusted with a practised efficiency, the crook of her other arm balancing her pages of records, held together by a tight knot of flax string. Right by the door, a bronze sign protruding from the stone wall swung. Every now and then it produced a timid creak, but that would be quickly drowned out by the rambunctious chatter of shoppers milling about back and forth outside.

Meilin glanced to the side at Father. That little action pulled out a muffled "ow" from the girl's lips, and she set her notes down briefly on the nearest table just so she could rub the sore muscles with the pads of her fingers. Her neck felt stiff with pain. Usually, Kai would be here to take over the moment Mei decided she had enough squinting at titles and keeping track of them all, even as patrons too numerous to count slipped in and out of the shop for purchases. Where that boy had gone to that afternoon, she had absolutely no idea. Perhaps he found some of his playmates whose families also owned shops around the area. Or perhaps he too was feeling the chill and had dashed home so Mother could make him something nice and hot. Either way, she was going to tweak his nose the next time she saw him. Leaving Father and I alone to handle the shop! The nerve! Shaking her head, Meilin pulled strands of silky black hair away from her face and frowned down at the rows of letters she had carefully penned across the pages.

A Greek Odyssey, by Demetrios Anastas. Now there was an interesting book she longed to read. What a pity Sir Demetrios never hired a scribe to help reproduce his work. There were only two that she knew about, and the last was currently being ogled by a particularly tall customer with a rather impressive beard, who had to stoop just the slightest so his head wouldn't brush the ceiling. Meilin kept her eyes on him for a while longer, and when another shadow fell over the doorway quickly turned back to the shelves with an air of feigned concentration.

"- the Stravos?"

She very nearly jumped at the sound of that name, but smoothly composed her expression as she awaited what Father would say next.

"How could I not? They were the talk of the town. Heard the son did a foolish thing and cost the entire family their Nobility. A great shame, too." Meilin was privately glad her father did not mention anything else, nor did he let slip that his own daughter, in fact, was very familiar with a particular Stravos Noblewoman. She fidgeted in her cramped spot, impatient to know what, exactly, the two men were conversing about that concerned such a prominent figure of Nobility. Or should she say, former Nobility. A number of staggering incidents had occurred in quick succession over the past month, and Meilin was no stranger to the gossip that travelled from mouth to mouth of the common women (and the common men too, if only they would admit it). Stravos was no longer Noble. It was to a general uproar of shock when the news first broke to the population. Then people had responded with varying degrees of emotions —scorn, sadness, and to her greatest distaste: exuberance. She had loathed to be part of such malicious gossip and instead silently watched the happenings unfold, mulling upon her own thoughts, and in half a mind to write a letter of sympathy to her closest friend.

"Do you think they'll make a comeback? Even after having been disgraced such? Heard from Linos, he no longer wanted any hand in Stravos-supported business. Pulling out, each and every one of them. And who could blame them?"

"Why, perhaps those who have benefited from all that Stravos support," her father replied lightly. Meilin knew she had never heard him openly raise his voice against a stranger, but this was close. There was an edge to his tone that hadn't been there before. She bit the other end of her reed pen to suppress her quiet glee and scanned the books once again, her eyes seeing but not taking in the words, for all senses seemed to be trained on the conversation taking place at the other end of the shop.

The man seemed to squirm. "It had been good for business, yes, but who's going to want to come by anymore after such a scandal? Can we really afford to have that golden anchor over our heads any longer?"

A small pause ensued, then a thud as her father set a stack of bookrolls on the counter and bundled them up. "That would be all, then?"

Meilin heard the man awkwardly take up his things and leave after bidding a farewell and his thanks. She heard his footfalls leave the confines of the shop. All at once, the girl spun around and turned the broiling heat of her glare against her father's stiff figure, suddenly frustrated that he had ended it where he did. "Why did you do that, father? You heard what he said about Danae and her family. He didn't deserve your politeness. Neither did that Linos and all the people he mentioned, either," she began heatedly. Her voice was impassioned, nearly tremulous with emotion. It was one thing to cut ties with a family who had fallen from grace. It was another to malign them for their misfortune.

Jun Li simply looked over at his daughter, something quite akin to solemnity in his eyes. "What would you do, Mei?"

Often, when she was younger, he would take her onto his lap and she would listen to the stories of the day he had to tell. Often, he would ask her for her thoughts. He would ask what she would do were she in his position. On normal occasion, being ever meticulous, Meilin would have pondered the topic over the span of the next day, yet this time she spared no second's thought. "I would prove them wrong," she said decidedly. Her fingers curled tightly around the reed pen. "I would show them why my family wasn't one so easily smothered, or erased from the face of earth. Starting with the Senate."

"It is easier said than it is done, Mei."

She opened her mouth to argue, her tongue itching to fire something scathing in response. Her father couldn't possibly disagree with her on something like this. From what she had heard, he still supported the Stravos, so what was this apparent reluctance she felt laced into his tone? They were certainly the only other family that Meilin felt a connection to, perhaps because they had been generous to her family's trade, and her dearest friend happened to hail from that name. What happened between she and Danae of Stravos was an accident, but a welcomed accident no doubt. She wondered how Danae was faring and whether she should pay her a visit. It was no small thing to lose, a family's established honour and title.

A feminine figure appeared at the doorway just then, and recognising another customer, Meilin averted her attentions. She wished Kai would come soon. Wherever he was. The boy was immensely clever and miles less emotional than she was in such situations. He would definitely know what to say to lessen this strange burden resting upon her shoulders.

Then, "Hello, Jun Li. Is Meilin here?"

Meilin whirled back around so quickly her neck made a resounding crack, and the hem of her chiton swirled above her ankles in a jarring draft of air. For there, smiling warmly, albeit a tad wearily, was Danae of Stravos. A tiny sigh fell past her lips as Meilin eagerly stepped forward, momentarily abandoning her task. The mere sight of her friend was enough to remind her how long they had been apart. She took in the braided dark hair and the blue headdress. Immediately, a flurry of questions threatened to spill from her tongue. Was Danae well? What exactly happened to her family? And why in Athenia was she wearing a headdress, of all things, even when Meilin clearly knew she hated any accessory of that sort? "Danae," she started to say, then halted. Who was to say that the girl wasn't still seething over her loss?

"Oh look, we match." Meilin pointed at their blue chitons with a smile. Blue was her go-to colour, and it was simply a coincidence that Danae had likewise chosen to wear it as well. And on a more serious note, "How are you?" Some of the pleasure at Danae having come to see her faded a little. "Would you like something to drink?" She looked, if Meilin were to put it mildly, exhausted.