Chapter Nine
New Lessons, Old Cousins
Soon, the day arrived when Clare officially joined Noah's school.
She stood at the entrance with Aunt Laura, holding her books tightly.
French voices filled the air.
For a moment, her stomach twisted.
But Noah waved from inside the courtyard.
"Clare! Here!"
Clare walked toward her.
Some students whispered — noticing her accent when she introduced herself.
But something about Clare was simple and natural.
She didn't act proud.
She didn't act different.
No one would guess she once studied in a special academy supported by a king.
She simply looked like another new student trying her best.
At home, Aunt Laura often wrote letters to her brother.
"She is improving," she wrote proudly.
"She struggles, but she does not give up."
Clausius helped her every evening.
He would sit beside her and slowly translate lessons.
"This word means tree."
"This one means river."
Sometimes Clare mixed the pronunciations.
Noah would laugh — not to tease — but to correct her gently.
Weeks passed.
At first, Clare stumbled over sentences.
Then she began forming them.
Then reading small paragraphs.
Then answering questions in class.
One afternoon, her teacher praised her effort in front of everyone.
Clare felt warmth rise to her cheeks.
For the first time since coming to France, she felt she belonged somewhere again.
Meanwhile, across the sea—
Daniel and little Elza traveled to England.
It was their aunt's birthday — King Charles Wilson's sister.
The English palace felt different from their own.
More formal.
More strict.
But familiar enough.
Elza ran through the halls excitedly.
Daniel walked beside her more quietly.
In the courtyard, someone approached.
A boy about his age.
Sharp eyes.
Confident posture.
"Daniel," he greeted.
"Jack," Daniel replied.
Prince HenryJackson— third prince of England.
Cousins by blood.
Jack studied Daniel carefully.
"You look like you swallowed a lemon," Jack said bluntly.
Daniel frowned. "I did not."
"You're quieter than usual," Jack replied. "Did Uncle scold you?"
Daniel hesitated.
"No."
Jack tilted his head. "Then what?"
Daniel didn't answer immediately.
He looked at the English garden instead.
"Someone left," he finally said.
Jack crossed his arms. "And?"
Daniel glanced at him. "And nothing."
Jack shrugged. "People leave. That's normal."
Daniel looked slightly annoyed. "You wouldn't understand."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "Try me."
For a moment, they just stood there.
Then Jack suddenly nudged him lightly with his shoulder.
"Come. There's archery practice. If you miss the target, I'll know you're truly miserable."
Daniel almost smiled.
Almost.
They spent the afternoon competing.
Running.
Arguing over scores.
Elza watched them from a distance, her small face thoughtful.
By evening, Daniel wasn't smiling widely.
But he wasn't silent either.
Jack had a way of dragging people back into motion.
And sometimes, motion was enough.
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