"You three have truly grown. I'm proud of you. Of course, I'll still be providing you with Remnants to increase your strength, but for the next two days, you may rest."
The three were delighted—Tristan more than the others. He had grown immensely from the beginning of the week until now. Yet, as the thought of rest came to his mind, only one place surfaced in his thoughts.
As Ruben was walking away, Tristan called out to him, intending to ask a question.
"Is it possible for me to go home—to the boutique, I mean?"
Ruben pondered for a few seconds before responding with a warm smile and a pleasing tone, "Why not? It's your time—you may spend it however you wish."
Ruben turned toward Garfield.
"I suppose you'd like to visit home as well?"
Garfield's expression faltered for a brief moment, a flicker of sorrow passing across his face as he turned his gaze aside, avoiding everyone's eyes. Then, almost instantly, he masked it with a smile—a convincing one, though hollow beneath the surface.
"I think I'll just return to the boys' dorm, if that's alright," he said lightly.
"It's your decision," Ruben replied calmly.
Garfield could deceive almost anyone—his smile was convincing—but it could not fool someone who had once worn the same mask. Tristan looked at his friend, concern etched across his face.
Tristan sighed, then said, "Garfield, you'll be coming with me. We'll stay at the boutique."
Garfield looked at Tristan, eyes wide with surprise.
"Are you sure? I don't want to be a burden to you—or to Mr. Kenway."
Tristan waved a hand dismissively and replied in a nonchalant tone, "I don't think Mr. Kenway would mind you coming along."
Garfield smiled, his cheer returning, and lunged forward to hug Tristan—but Tristan, quick on his feet, dodged with ease. Amelia smiled softly at their antics, though there was a trace of melancholy in her expression. She turned to leave in the direction of the manor, but Tristan stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"I wasn't sure if you wanted to, but I'm pretty certain Mr. Kenway would be fine with you coming as well," he said.
Amelia was surprised—her heart lifted, though she tried not to show it. A small, fleeting smile touched her lips before she quickly replaced it with a calm, emotionless composure.
"Well, if you're inviting me, I suppose I can't refuse," she said coolly.
Tristan turned toward Ruben. "Of course, that's only if it's alright with you."
Ruben smiled warmly before replying, "Like I said—it's your downtime. Whatever you do during that time is up to you."
The three first bathed, then boarded a carriage Amelia's carriage bound for the Middle District. Normally, if Tristan and Garfield were to leave the High District, they would not be permitted to return. However, since they had received authorization from a member of one of the five great families, they were granted passage both ways. As they journeyed through the streets of the Middle District, a wave of nostalgia washed over both Tristan and Garfield.
Though Tristan had not lived there long, the Middle District had shaped much of who he had become and introduced him to people who had changed his life. Garfield, however, felt the pull of memory even stronger—he had spent far more time there than Tristan had. Though some memories were far from pleasant, he would rather possess them than be left without—and, of course, there were those precious recollections that never failed to bring a smile to his face.
After about an hour, the carriage arrived at the boutique. Tristan stepped out and paused for a moment, gazing up at his former home. The sight stirred something deep within him.
Though the buildings lacked the grandeur and opulence of those in the High District, there was still a quiet beauty to them—one that resonated deeply with those who had spent most of their lives in the Middle District.
The door to the boutique creaked open, and at the threshold stood Mr. Kenway, just about to close up shop until his eyes met Tristan's. He smiled warmly and said, "Well, are you coming in?"
Tristan returned the smile, unable to stop the rush of memory that flooded back—the first time he and Mr. Kenway had met. This moment felt strikingly similar.
The three entered the boutique and made their way upstairs to the apartment. Amelia had never been there before, but Garfield had, and he noticed something had changed. The space felt… larger.
"Is this place bigger?" he asked curiously.
"I bought the apartment next door and merged the two," Mr. Kenway explained as he ascended the stairs.
He took off his coat and hung it on the rack beside the staircase, then turned to Tristan with a fond smile.
"Is something wrong?" Tristan asked.
Kenway shook his head as he made his way toward a single-seater couch.
"No," he said, sitting down and cracking his neck, "it's just been too long since I last saw or spoke with you."
"I don't think it's been that long—it's only been about a month. I've been sending letters about everything happening at the academy," Tristan replied.
Kenway chuckled. "I suppose you're right. But nothing compares to speaking face-to-face," he said warmly. "And it's good to see all of you again. Garfield, you've grown stronger since we last met—and you as well, Lady Amelia. You've all come a long way."
They smiled proudly, grateful for his praise.
"Oh, Garfield—you were wondering about the extra space, weren't you?"
Garfield nodded, glancing toward the far side of the apartment, where a kitchen and two additional rooms could now be seen.
"Yes."
"With the funds provided by Lady Amelia, along with the profits from the boutique, I was able to purchase the neighboring apartment and break down the dividing wall. It gave me two extra rooms and a proper kitchen—something I had been missing," Mr. Kenway said, glancing fondly at his handiwork.
"That's great, because we were hoping we could stay here for the next few days," Tristan said.
Garfield and Amelia both turned to him in shock, their expressions painted with disbelief. For Tristan to so casually request lodging for all three of them was rather bold.
The room fell into a profound silence as they awaited Mr. Kenway's response.
"Of course you can," Mr. Kenway said cheerfully. "Tristan is like a son to me, and you are his friends—you're always welcome here. Besides, I couldn't refuse even if I wanted to. After all, Lady Amelia is the reason I was able to expand this place, so I'm indebted to her."
Garfield and Amelia sighed with relief, gratitude softening their features as they both thanked him. Tristan, too, expressed his thanks to his adoptive father.
Kenway rose from the couch and made his way toward the kitchen.
"Before you arrived, I was planning to make spaghetti for myself," he said with a chuckle, "but I suppose I won't be eating alone tonight."
"I would love to assist you," Amelia offered, rising to follow him.
Kenway shook his head firmly. "No, no—you're a lady of nobility. You shouldn't trouble yourself with housework."
Amelia smiled gently, her voice both respectful and firm. "Though I may be Amelia Green most of the time, right now, I'm simply Amelia—your son's friend. And I'm telling you, I want to help."
Tristan laughed lightly. "Let her help, Mr. Kenway—or you might not even set foot in that kitchen."
Kenway smiled in defeat and gestured toward the kitchen. "Alright then—let's go cook."