Powerful things...

Technically speaking, Ariadne was allowed to go anywhere on the grounds of the Salvatore Boarding School for the Young & Gifted she wanted, apart from private bedrooms and bathrooms, of course. She wasn't much older than the students. And some of them were even friendly. A few teachers--the ones less wary about her connections to the master--had even offered to let her sit in on classes. But Ariadne demurred. In part, because she knew that Hope wanted to feel normal and having a bodyguard hover around her at all hours of the day was as far from normal as you could get, in this world. And in part because it reminded Ariadne a bit too much of the mission school she'd attended as a young girl. The other students used to tease her for not knowing magic. There was no reason to relive those memories.

Fortunately, she'd settled into a comfortable routine of her own. When Hope was at her leisure, Ariadne followed her around at a reasonable distance and pretended to admire the drapery or watch the television or reorganize the sock drawer. But when Hope was in class, Ariadne's time was her own. And she liked to make the most of it.

Her favorite part of the grounds was the library. Someone told her it had once been some kind of study for the original owners. A salon where they could withdraw and reflect. Or whatever it was terribly rich people in this world did. But now, it was a swimming sea of books. They went from the ground to the very top of the ceiling, two stories and a winding iron staircase above. There were squashy chairs scattered around. Along with small tables for students who were working on projects together.

Ariadne had a special chair. It wasn't hers. Not by any stretch of the imagination. But at the same it, was. No one else used it. And occasionally, if a staff member was sitting in it, he or she got up the second Ariadne wandered in. It wasn't deference. Probably more like pity. But no matter how hard she tried to tell them it wasn't necessary, the chair was always yielded. And so she spent afternoon after afternoon curled up, nestled in the cozy, floral fabric, reading books. At first, her interest was in history. She was still trying to come to terms with this strange place. But soon, the fiction began to catch her attention. She was especially astonished by stories about warriors and elves and quests and wizards. What this world saw as fantasy was...home. Or as close as she would ever get.

That afternoon, was a couple of teachers conferred on the upper level, Ariadne sat in her chair, reading through a book called House of Dragons. The story was riveting and she especially liked the part about the servant girl coming into her own. Not that she would ever rebel against Hope. It wasn't Hope's fault that they were stuck together. But the idea was...nice...