Two years had passed since the tea party incident, and Lady Beatrice of Windmere had long since decided to keep her daughter far away from such gatherings,the kind filled with sharp smiles and mothers who whispered behind their fans. If society refused to see Lavender for who she was, then Beatrice would prepare her daughter to make them see her on her own terms.
And so, she made arrangements for Lavender to attend the most distinguished finishing school in all of Elaris, a place where noble daughters were polished into perfect ladies of society. Fortunately, the headmistress was one of Lady Beatrice's oldest friends, which meant there would be no worry of cruel treatment or petty discrimination.
The morning of Lavender's departure arrived bright and calm. Martha, her faithful maid, moved briskly about the room, fussing over ribbons and hems, ensuring every pleat and lace fell just right.
"Hold still, my lady," Martha murmured, gently smoothing the lavender satin bow at her waist. "You'll be the prettiest of them all today, mark my words."
Lavender smiled faintly at her reflection,her skin a soft bronze glow against the pale color of her gown, her hair neatly arranged and pinned with care. She hardly recognized herself; she looked… older, perhaps even worthy of the fine lady her mother wanted her to be.
Mary, her governess, hovered nearby with a fond expression. "Remember, my dear," she said softly, "grace is not only in how you walk or curtsy, but in how you hold your heart. Be kind, but never let anyone think you small."
Lavender nodded, feeling that familiar mixture of excitement and dread.
When at last she descended the grand staircase, her mother stood waiting by the carriage, elegant and poised as ever.
"Mother," Lavender said, her voice a little shy but steady, "I am ready."
Lady Beatrice turned and, for a brief moment, her composure softened. Her daughter looked radiant, so composed, so full of quiet dignity. Pride swelled in her chest.
"There will be other girls at the school," she began gently. "Try to make friends with them, Lavender. You mustn't always keep to yourself."
Lavender lowered her eyes. "But, Mother… the other girls laugh at me. They always do."
"If they laugh," Lady Beatrice said, her tone firm but warm, "then correct them. And if they refuse to be corrected, forget them. Do not ever let anyone's smallness make you smaller. Is that understood?"
Lavender hesitated, then smiled. "Yes, Mother."
Just then, the rumble of wheels drew their attention. A second carriage rolled into the courtyard, and Lady Beatrice's face lit up.
"Ah! That must be Lady Dalia, the Countess of Ruthermore."
Lavender watched as the two women embraced like old friends reunited after years apart. Lavender always wondered how her mother managed to make friends when she was always at home , she wished she had that charm. It would make life much easier as she would not have to venture out to find someone who accepted for who she was.
"Beatrice, you look as radiant as ever," the Countess said, her laughter rich and familiar.
"And you," Lady Beatrice replied with affection, "are still as dramatic as the day I met you."
Lavender curtseyed politely, but the Countess swept her into a warm hug.
"My dear Lavender," she exclaimed, "how you've grown! You must promise me you'll put all those other girls at the finishing school to shame." She winked, whispering the last part conspiratorially.
Lavender smiled shyly. "I'll try my best, my lady."
"Dalia!" Lady Beatrice scolded, half-laughing. "Don't put wild ideas in her head. She's already far too clever for her age."
"Nonsense," Lady Dalia replied with a grin. "She's pure-hearted. Just like her mother was before her wedding night."
"Dalia!" Beatrice gasped, swatting her friend lightly on the arm. "Do not say such things before the child!"
Lavender looked between them, puzzled but amused, while the two women dissolved into laughter.
"Oh, I envy you," Dalia sighed dramatically. "All I have are boys, loud as thunder and twice as messy."
"Children are a delight," Beatrice replied, shaking her head. "But let us not waste Lavender's morning. She mustn't be late."
The coachman stepped forward, helping Lavender into the carriage. She turned to look back at her mother, the woman who had been her constant comfort and strength.
Although Lady Beatrice was full of smiles inwardly she was disappointed. Her husband was supposed to be here to send Lavender away alongside her but he was too busy in his study. He was always in his study.
"Do not let those little girls frighten you, do you hear me?" Lady Beatrice said softly.
"I won't, Mother."
"And learn everything you can," the countess said, her eyes softening. "So that one day, you'll find yourself a wonderful husband… like your father."
Lady Beatrice 's expression changed. She didn't want Lavender to find a man like her father, she wanted nothing of the sort. But it wasn't the countess' fault that she didn't know of her husband's behavior, lady Beatrice decided to forgive her.
Lavender waved as the carriage rolled forward, her heart fluttering with a strange mix of hope and uncertainty. Lady Beatrice and Lady Dalia stood side by side on the steps, watching her disappear down the long, sunlit drive.
"She'll do fine," Dalia murmured.
Beatrice's lips curved into a faint, wistful smile. "She must," she whispered. "She's all I have."