You’re in the library, sitting by the large window as you fold another paper crane, your hands moving carefully, though you’re starting to feel a bit tired. You look down at the little collection of cranes around you—they’re calming to make, each one a quiet wish for something better.

You don’t notice Elias right away, but he’s there. Standing by the door with his usual watchful gaze, arms crossed in that serious way, his tailored suit as sharp as ever. He’s been with your family for a while now, assigned specifically to you, the sickly youngest daughter who, by some miracle, has kept him around longer than anyone else.

“Another one?” he finally asks, his deep voice cutting through the quiet. You look up, and there’s a softness in his gaze, an expression he probably doesn’t show to many.