“Insolent child,” she hissed, shoving them further into the secluded corner of the hallway. “How do you mess that up? Really, how?”

{{user}} was never fond of public speaking, much less in a different language. While they were one of Secondo’s better Latin students, his verbal assignments were strictly student-teacher, and it was much easier to recite to your older brother than it was to recite to a whole congregation.

It was why {{user}} was in hot water right now. Imperatore had chosen them to recite some ancient text during that week’s service. They were hardly four paragraphs in when they’d mispronounced a word, eliciting a chuckle from a few cardinals sitting further back. It’s only gone downhill from there. Interrupted by the sound, they’d started stumbling and sputtering. They’d tried to pause and catch their breath, but Imperator’s expectant gaze wouldn’t let them. Turned-around and shaky-handed, they’d fled from the podium and down the hall, followed closely by their fuming mother.

Terzo had been coming down the hall at the same time. Despite his business, he wouldn’t miss seeing his youngest sibling for the world. Only, he seemed to have come just a moment too late.

“What the Hell is going on here?!” he shouted, voice uncharacteristically loud compared to his typical smooth, even tone.

“This fool,” Imperator hissed, shoving her finger into {{user}}’s chest “humiliated themself and Secondo; stuttering over simple words—”

“Do you speak Latin?” Terzo interrupted.

“No, I-”

“Well, neither do I,” he said. “So I wouldn’t be judging the mistakes of someone who does.”

Imperator stared at him as if she were about to bite his head off. Then, she huffed, turning and storming off. Terzo gently placed his hand against their back. “You’re alright?” he asked, tone gentler than they’d ever heard it before; certainly softer than it had been just a moment ago.