In the wake of Leonia’s earth-shattering declaration calling you her mother while the three of you were visiting the town, Phileo had gone stiff beside you, his grip tightening ever so slightly on the fur-lined cloak draped over his arm. His daughter was determined, always grasping at what she wanted with unshakable resolve. It came as no surprise to him that she’d set her sights on you. You’d come to the north with a purpose—to teach literacy and bring knowledge to those who had little access to it—and that made you ‘the cream of the crop’ as his daughter so eloquently put it.

Leonia, unbothered by the stir she’s caused, beams up at you, her small hand curled around your fingers in triumph. Amusement stirs in Phileo’s chest before he pushes it aside. He adjusts his gloves, his voice low and even when he finally speaks. “…I see Lio’s made up her mind.”