Chapter Text
Chapter 3
Knead.
Knead, knead.
Aventurine stirred as something soft but persistent pressed against his cheek.
He cracked open one eye.
A mass of black fur stared down at him with judgmental eyes.
Berry sat comfortably on his chest, one paw reaching toward his face while her long tail swished from side to side.
“Mrr.”
Aventurine chuckled and scratched behind her ears.
“Morning, Princess. Were you trying to make bread out of my—”
A paw went directly into his mouth.
“Mmph!”
Berry withdrew it.
Aventurine had faced gun barrels and more than one suspicious glass of wine in his time.
A fluffy paw was a first.
“You are awake.”
Aventurine turned his head.
Ratio stood at the edge of the living room, already dressed for the day, a cup in one hand.
A small yellow duck was printed on it.
The former gambler stared at the cup.
Then at Ratio.
He wisely decided not to comment.
“…How long have you been standing there, doc?”
“Long enough.”
“Should I be concerned that my employer enjoys watching people sleep?”
“You should be concerned that your first responsibility of the morning has been sitting on your abdomen for the past three minutes.”
Aventurine looked back at Berry.
She blinked up at him.
“Mrrrp.”
“…Ah.”
Ratio took another sip from his duck cup.
“Six days remaining. The clock is ticking.”
Aventurine groaned and dropped his head against the cushion.
“Good morning to you too, doc.”
“Mew! Mewww!”
“Yes, Princess. I’m getting up.”
He did not get up.
Berry waited three seconds.
Apparently, that was three seconds too many.
She stepped forward and settled directly over his face.
Aventurine’s world disappeared beneath a mass of black fur.
“Mmph—?! Mmfph!”
His arms flailed blindly.
Ratio watched over the rim of his cup.
“An effective strategy.”
“MMPH!”
Aventurine finally managed to lift Berry off his face.
“Princess. Attempted murder before breakfast is generally frowned upon.”
“Mewww.”
“What? I said I was getting up.”
“She is hungry.”
Aventurine turned an incredulous look toward Ratio.
“And that justifies suffocation?”
“You were warned when she put her paw in your mouth.”
Aventurine sat up.
“A hostile work environment. Noted.”
“If you wish to avoid another suffocating incident, I suggest you hurry.”
Ratio glanced at the clock.
“As I explained yesterday, her breakfast is served at this hour.”
Right.
Aventurine vaguely recalled the thick planner Ratio had handed him the previous evening.
Feeding times.
Grooming.
Playtime.
Treats.
Even notes about Berry’s preferred toys.
It looked less like instructions for caring for a cat and more like something an executive assistant would carry.
Once upon a time, people had carried schedules like that for him.
Sir, your next appointment is in twenty minutes.
Director, the client has arrived.
Master Aventurine, please inform us before changing the operation halfway through.
That one had been particularly common.
There had been smaller things too. Someone reminding him of a forgotten meeting. Food appearing on his desk after he had skipped lunch.
And the older woman at the cafeteria who knew what it meant when he appeared late in the afternoon and ordered nothing but black coffee.
Sometimes she placed a small slice of cake beside it.
You look tired today, sonny.
No contract.
No hidden price.
Just cake.
His smile faded.
Strange.
He hadn’t thought about those days in a while.
“Vasha.”
Aventurine blinked.
Ratio was watching him.
“She has already been waiting for five minutes.”
Aventurine looked down.
Berry was still sitting on his chest, staring at him.
Her ears had turned slightly to the sides. The tip of her tail twitched against his stomach.
“…Five whole minutes?”
He placed a hand over his heart.
“My apologies, Your Highness. How cruelly you have suffered.”
“Mrr….”
“Consider this your first test of the day.”
Aventurine looked up.
“…Before breakfast?”
“It concerns breakfast.”
Ratio nodded toward Berry.
“Demonstrate how you intend to prepare her kibble.”
Aventurine looked at his furry examiner.
Berry stared back.
Her paw began to rise toward his mouth.
Aventurine caught it.
“Princess.”
“Mew!”
“Threatening the examinee is generally frowned upon.”
“Then I suggest you satisfy your client before she files another complaint.”
Aventurine sighed and lifted Berry from his chest.
“Very well. Come along, my lady.”
He stood, still half asleep.
“Apparently my employment begins before coffee.”
Berry immediately trotted toward the kitchen.
Aventurine watched her go.
“…She understood that remarkably well.”
“She understood ‘breakfast.’”
“…Naturally.”
=====
Ratio waited until Aventurine had finished preparing Berry’s breakfast.
The moment her bowl touched the floor, Berry buried her face in it.
Apparently, the five-minute famine had finally ended.
Ratio inspected his work.
Correct portion. Correct kibble. The bowl had even been cleaned beforehand.
“Acceptable.”
Aventurine placed a hand over his chest.
“Such generous praise. I’ll treasure it forever.”
“Two points.”
He paused.
“…Oh?”
“Correct portion. No assistance required.”
A pleased smile appeared.
“Two points before coffee. Not a bad opening hand.”
Aventurine picked up Berry’s water bowl.
“Perhaps today is my lucky—”
He turned on the kitchen tap.
“One point deducted.”
Aventurine froze.
“…What?”
“Filtered water.”
His eyes moved slowly from the tap, to the water filter, then to Ratio.
The professor stood across the kitchen with his arms folded, like a lecturer watching a student confidently write the wrong answer on the board.
Aventurine turned off the tap with as much dignity as he could salvage.
“Her Highness only drinks the finest.”
“I explained this yesterday.”
“You explained many things yesterday. In my defense, I was overwhelmed by six categories of cat toys.”
“An inadequate defense.”
Aventurine emptied the bowl.
“So my winnings can simply disappear?”
“Points may be awarded or deducted throughout the day. Your final score will be recorded this evening.”
“And here I thought once I’d won them, they were mine.”
“This is an assessment, not a casino.”
“Everything is a casino if you’re imaginative enough.”
Ratio stared at him.
Aventurine stared back, perfectly innocent.
The professor still had his arms folded across his chest, pulling the fabric of his shirt taut across broad shoulders. His sleeves had been pushed neatly to his elbows, leaving strong forearms bare.
Aventurine’s gaze dipped.
Briefly.
Purely observational.
Naturally.
When his amethyst eyes returned to Ratio’s face, one eyebrow had risen.
Aventurine smiled as though he had been looking nowhere at all.
Interesting.
Ratio, unfortunately, was no less observant.
Aventurine was still dressed in yesterday’s clothes, though considerably less immaculate than when Ratio had first met him. His blond hair had escaped its usual careful arrangement, falling loosely around his face. Without the polished presentation, he looked softer somehow. Younger.
One hand rested against the counter, rings catching the morning light as he idly rolled a coin across his knuckles.
Ratio’s gaze followed the movement.
He had seen countless hands at work.
Students fumbling through calculations, fingers hesitating over each step. Young researchers handling delicate instruments with the stiff concentration of those still learning to trust their own precision.
Aventurine’s hands were different.
The coin slipped between his fingers without a single wasted movement—over one knuckle, beneath the next, then back again.
Effortless.
Practiced.
Ratio found himself watching.
Sleight of hand, perhaps.
A magician?
A trickster?
Or—
His eyes narrowed slightly.
A gambler.
The coin vanished into Aventurine’s palm.
Ratio looked up.
Aventurine was already watching him.
His smile sharpened.
“See something you like, Sweetheart?”
“Your dexterity.”
The answer came so matter-of-factly that Aventurine blinked.
Ratio nodded toward his hand.
“That degree of fine motor control requires considerable practice.”
Aventurine slowly looked at his own fingers.
Then back at Ratio.
“My hands caught your attention?”
“Their proficiency did.”
“Ah.”
Aventurine let the answer linger.
“Naturally.”
Ratio frowned.
He disliked that tone.
Aventurine filled the bowl with filtered water and set it down.
“There. Do I get my point back?”
“No.”
“Doc~”
“You do not receive additional credit for correcting an error you were already instructed not to make.”
“And here I thought you believed in second chances.”
“I believe in learning from them.”
Aventurine laughed under his breath.
How troublesome.
He was beginning to enjoy this too much.
Ratio turned toward the hallway.
“Come with me.”
Aventurine recovered immediately.
“My, how commanding.”
“It will only take a moment. Then you may wash and change before breakfast.”
That caught his attention.
Ratio led him to the last door in the hallway.
“This room is currently unoccupied. You may use it for the duration of your trial.”
He opened the door.
Aventurine stepped inside.
A proper bed. A wardrobe. Shelves crowded with research books, old project files, and objects whose purposes he could only guess at. A half-assembled device occupied one corner of the desk beside several neatly labeled prototypes.
Apparently, unoccupied did not mean unused.
And then—
Aventurine stopped.
“…Doc.”
“What?”
He approached the nearest statue.
It was unmistakably Ratio.
Life-sized.
Marble.
Making a heart with both hands.
Aventurine slowly looked from the statue to its original.
“…I had several questions about this room.”
Ratio folded his arms.
“And?”
“They have all been replaced by one considerably more urgent question.”
“Such as?”
“…You posed for this?”
Ratio’s expression brightened with unmistakable pride.
“No. I sculpted it myself.”
Aventurine stared.
“…You made a life-sized statue of yourself doing heart hands?”
“Indeed.”
Ratio approached and brushed an invisible speck of dust from its shoulder.
“The proportions, I should add, are remarkably accurate.”
Aventurine bit the inside of his cheek.
“Is that so?”
“Naturally. It would be rather embarrassing to reproduce one’s own anatomy incorrectly.”
“Of course. Artistic integrity.”
“Precisely.”
Ratio gestured toward the other statues.
“They require cleaning once a week. You are not to use anything abrasive.”
Aventurine’s brows rose.
“They’re part of my duties?”
“You did express an interest in domestic work.”
“I didn’t realize that included polishing my employer.”
“…His statues.”
“Of course, sweetheart.”
Aventurine’s smile widened.
“You said the proportions were anatomically accurate?”
“They are.”
“…Everywhere?”
Ratio paused.
“Within… the requirements of the sculpture.”
There it was.
Not embarrassment, exactly. The professor appeared far too assured of his own physique for that.
Aventurine let his gaze travel deliberately down the marble figure.
“Then I suppose I’ll have plenty of opportunities to appreciate your craftsmanship.”
“You are required to clean it, not conduct an anatomical study.”
“I can multitask, honey.”
“Your efficiency remains to be demonstrated.”
Aventurine’s attention returned to the room.
“I didn’t expect my boss to be generous enough to give me my own room.”
He leaned against the bedpost.
“Careful, love. A man could start getting comfortable.”
“I should hope so. A bedroom incapable of providing basic comfort would be a rather poor use of space.”
Ratio paused at the door.
“Provided, of course, that you pass the seven-day trial.”
Aventurine sighed.
“…You make flirting remarkably difficult.”
“On the contrary. You appear remarkably persistent despite receiving very little encouragement.”
Aventurine blinked.
Then his grin returned.
“Oh, Professor. Was that a challenge?”
“An observation.”
“Those are often the same thing if you play your cards right.”
“An imaginative conclusion. The evidence does not support it.”
Aventurine laughed softly.
Ratio regarded him for a moment before continuing.
“One further matter. Keep the door closed whenever you are not here.”
Aventurine glanced at the statues.
“Afraid someone will make off with your collection?”
“Hardly. Berry has a habit of scratching them.”
Aventurine stared.
“…Your daughter vandalizes your likeness?”
“Only when sufficiently displeased.”
“…With?”
Ratio’s expression turned grave.
“Her treat allocation.”
Aventurine waited.
Ratio did not smile.
Apparently, this was serious.
Aventurine looked from the heart-pose statue to its owner.
“…Honey. Your daughter is holding them hostage.”
Ratio frowned.
“And what, precisely, would you have me do? Reinforce destructive behaviour by rewarding it?”
“Oh, certainly not. Once you start paying out, sweetheart, she’ll know the house can be pressured.”
“Precisely. Capitulation would merely encourage repetition.”
Oh.
He was serious.
“Should she begin circling this door after being denied a treat, redirect her attention at once. The feather wand is usually sufficient.”
“Change the game before she raises the stakes. Smart play.”
“Preventative measures are preferable to negotiation after the damage has been done.”
Aventurine nodded solemnly.
“Spoken like a seasoned negotiator.”
“I would also advise you against attempting to negotiate with her.”
Aventurine placed a hand over his heart.
“Professor, you wound me. Negotiation happens to be one of my specialties.”
“Which is precisely why I thought the warning necessary.”
“I’m taking this very seriously, sweetheart.”
He was not.
Aventurine covered his mouth, failing to hide his laugh.
“Oh, Berry, what a smart girl you are.”
“Do not encourage her. Her existing behaviour is quite sufficient.”
Ratio gave him one final warning look before turning toward the door.
“Wash and change. Breakfast will be ready shortly.”
Aventurine’s laughter quieted.
“…You’re making breakfast?”
Ratio glanced back.
“You are residing in my home. I hardly intend to allow you to go unfed.”
Said as though it were obvious.
Before Aventurine could think of a suitably flippant response, Ratio was gone.
The door clicked shut.
The room fell quiet.
Aventurine looked around again.
A bed.
A wardrobe.
A room of his own.
Even if only for six more days.
He set his bag beside the bed.
His hand lingered on the strap.
Then withdrew.
…He didn’t unpack it.
========
After washing up and changing into fresh clothes, Aventurine made his way toward the dining area.
The smell of breakfast reached him first.
His stomach growled.
When was the last time he had eaten a proper breakfast?
Back at the IPC, mornings usually meant an energy bar on the way to work—or, on particularly unpleasant days, a glass of wine and stubborn luck.
He reached the kitchen doorway.
Then stopped.
Ratio stood at the stove, sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows.
Berry sat nearby, watching him with enormous eyes.
“Mew.”
“No.”
“Mewww.”
“You have already eaten.”
Berry’s tail flicked.
“Mrrrp.”
“That is not a compelling argument.”
Aventurine pressed his lips together, fighting a smile.
He had negotiated with people who could turn a misplaced word into a threat, a debt, or a death sentence.
Berry, meanwhile, had apparently brought an impatient tail and one increasingly dramatic mew to the bargaining table.
Aventurine found the attempt unbearably adorable.
Berry rubbed against Ratio’s ankle.
“Flattery will not alter your treat allocation.”
“Mrrr.”
“No.”
Aventurine’s smile finally escaped.
Ratio bent to scratch beneath her chin. Berry immediately purred—until she discovered there was no kibble in his hand.
She huffed and batted him away.
Ratio chuckled.
And smiled.
Aventurine went still.
That smile was downright unfair.
But it was the whole scene that caught him: breakfast on the stove, Berry weaving around Ratio’s feet, the professor arguing seriously with a cat.
Ordinary.
Warm.
“Good morning, Vasha.”
Aventurine blinked.
Ratio glanced over his shoulder.
Just like that, the scene opened to include him.
The younger man summoned his usual smile.
“…Morning, sweetheart.”
“How would you prefer your eggs? Scrambled or sunny-side up?”
Aventurine hesitated.
“…Scrambled?”
“Was my question somehow ambiguous?”
“Just checking the table before I place my bet, honey. You never know when someone might slip in a joker.”
Ratio regarded him.
“…Vasha, I assure you, there is no hidden stratagem. I merely asked how you prefer your eggs.”
That was all.
No invitation.
No question of whether Aventurine belonged in the kitchen.
Ratio simply reached for another egg.
Aventurine watched him.
The movement pulled the fabric of his rolled sleeve snug around his upper arm, briefly outlining the muscle beneath.
Aventurine’s gaze lingered.
Ah.
Perhaps looking at the professor was safer than thinking too hard about why being included so easily had affected him.
He had seen beautiful people before.
Plenty.
Yet something about Ratio standing there, sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows as he prepared breakfast for him, held Aventurine’s attention longer than it should have.
Ratio glanced over.
“Is something the matter?”
“Nothing, sweetheart.”
Aventurine wisely reached for the coffee maker instead.
“Stop.”
“…I was going to make us coffee.”
“Unnecessary. Sit down.”
“Surely there’s something I can—”
“Vasha.”
Ratio turned.
Unfortunately, so did his attention.
A faint burnt smell reached them.
Both men looked toward the stove.
“…Ah.”
Ratio switched off the heat.
“Splendid.”
“I’ve seen worse.”
“That is hardly a useful standard. I am making another portion.”
Aventurine was faster. He slipped the eggs onto a plate and took a bite.
Ratio stared.
“What are you doing?”
“Preventing unnecessary casualties.”
“Those are burnt.”
“A little. Still edible.”
“I can prepare another serving in a matter of minutes.”
“And waste perfectly good food?” Aventurine took another bite. “I’ve eaten worse.”
Something about the ease with which he said it made Ratio pause.
“Besides, this is plenty. Give me this and some coffee and I’ll survive until tomorrow.”
Ratio’s brows drew together.
“…Tomorrow?”
“Figure of speech, sweetheart.”
It had not sounded like one.
Ratio studied him.
Expensive clothes. Jewelry. A vehicle worth more than some apartments. Nowhere to live.
And apparently burnt eggs and coffee constituted an adequate meal.
Another contradiction.
Ratio took the plate from his hands.
“Sit.”
“…Doc, don’t take my eggs hostage.”
“You were attempting to pass burnt eggs off as an adequate meal.”
He discarded them and reached for fresh eggs.
Something small and foolish warmed beneath Aventurine’s ribs.
“Aww, doc. I didn’t realize you were so concerned for my well-being.”
“Incorrect.”
The answer came immediately.
“If you become unwell, you will be unable to attend to Berry. I have no intention of allowing your poor habits to inconvenience my daughter.”
Ah.
Of course.
Aventurine’s smile remained perfectly in place.
He was still a prospective employee. This was only the first day of a seven-day trial.
For one ridiculous moment, he had almost mistaken being welcomed in for belonging.
He rolled his coin across his knuckles.
“And here I thought my employer was secretly a giant softie.”
“I am being practical.”
“Of course, dear.”
There were the terms of the deal. Berry came first. Aventurine kept her happy; Ratio kept him around.
Familiar territory.
“Well. That clears things up.”
Ratio glanced at him.
“You have misunderstood me.”
“…Have I?”
“Berry’s welfare is my primary concern. That does not mean yours is irrelevant.”
Aventurine blinked.
Ratio cracked another egg into the pan.
“You are residing in my home. While you are here, you will eat proper meals.”
Aventurine stared at his back.
He understood transactions.
At the IPC, connections were often built on exchange: offer something useful, receive something useful, and both parties understood the arrangement.
Ratio had just separated Aventurine’s well-being from Berry’s usefulness entirely.
And he said it as though that were obvious.
That was considerably less convenient.
“…Is that another condition of employment?”
“It is now.”
“My, what a demanding boss.”
“If three adequate meals a day strike you as excessive, I am beginning to question your standards.”
Aventurine laughed.
“Careful, doc. I might mistake you for a giant softie again.”
“Then improve your powers of observation. Sit.”
Aventurine opened his mouth.
“That was not an invitation to negotiate.”
“…Yes, Professor.”
He obeyed.
His poker face had survived considerably higher stakes than breakfast with an unexpectedly considerate professor.
Surely it could survive this.
Probably.
After a moment, Aventurine glanced toward the cupboards.
“…Can I at least set the table?”
“No.”
“Still guarding your kitchen?”
“I prefer knowing where my utensils are.”
Aventurine drew his token coin from his pocket, rolling it easily across his knuckles.
“I understand. I’m particular about my cards too. I don’t let just anyone handle my deck.”
Ratio’s hand stopped.
Just briefly.
“Your cards?”
Aventurine caught it immediately.
Ah.
“Perhaps I simply enjoy games of chance.”
“You speak remarkably often about gambling.”
Aventurine grinned.
“Oh? Is that curiosity I hear? What would you like to know? My availability? My savings? Perhaps one of my many talents besides filling kibble into cat bowls?”
Ratio did not look up.
“Your availability is irrelevant, your savings are evidently incapable of securing you an apartment, and your proficiency with cat food remains under assessment.”
The knife came down with another precise chop.
“So far, I see little reason for such confidence.”
Aventurine stared.
“…Ouch.”
“You invited the inquiry.”
“I was flirting, honey.”
“Then refine your technique.”
Aventurine’s grin returned.
Oh.
The professor wanted to play.
“Careful, doc. Criticism like that might make a man determined to prove you wrong.”
“Given your circumstances, I recommend beginning with your finances.”
“You claim to have nowhere to live, yet own a vehicle worth more than some apartments.”
“Perhaps I hit the jackpot during one particularly fortunate streak?”
“How convenient. Your luck appears remarkably selective.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“You have a remarkable talent for finding explanations exactly when you need them.”
Aventurine’s eyes gleamed.
“Why, Professor. That almost sounded like praise.”
“It was an observation. Do try not to confuse the two.”
Aventurine laughed.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Your evasions?”
“Trying to solve me.”
Aventurine winked.
“I think you’re having fun.”
Annoyingly, Vasha was not entirely wrong.
Every answer produced another contradiction, and every contradiction sharpened Ratio’s curiosity.
Most people approached him as a teacher, a superior, or an expert to be heard.
Vasha met him at eye level, smiled, and treated every rebuttal as encouragement.
Irritating.
Unfortunately entertaining.
Ratio gave him a cool sideways glance.
“Your confidence is impressive. Your evidence, considerably less so.”
Something soft brushed against Aventurine’s legs.
He bent and scooped Berry into his arms.
“Daddy is having fun, isn’t he, Princess?”
“Mew!”
Aventurine adjusted her comfortably against his chest, supporting her like an oversized, fluffy baby.
Then he turned her toward Ratio and lifted one paw in a little wave.
“There. Paw-reviewed by your very own daughter, doc.”
Ratio stared at the raised paw.
For the briefest moment, the corner of his mouth threatened to curve.
He suppressed it before Aventurine could claim victory.
“That is not remotely what peer review means.”
Aventurine’s grin widened anyway.
He had seen it.
“Mew! Mewww~”
Berry suddenly leaned forward, nose twitching.
Her attention had shifted directly to Aventurine’s breakfast.
Ratio’s eyes narrowed.
“Vasha. She is not permitted on the table.”
“Relax, sweetheart. Her paws haven’t crossed the line. The bet’s still clean.”
One paw stretched eagerly toward his plate.
“Mrrp!”
Aventurine caught it.
“Now, now, my lady. I already fed you.”
Berry looked at him.
Then pointedly at the plate.
Her tail flicked against his arm.
“Yes, I remember. It was a terrible five minutes of starvation before breakfast. You suffered greatly.”
“Mewww~”
She pushed her head into his hand, purring as he scratched beneath her chin.
Aventurine narrowed his eyes.
“…Are you trying to charm me, my Lady Luck?”
Berry pushed harder into his palm.
“Mrrr.”
“My, my. Our little lady is trying to tip the odds in her favour, doc.”
“No more food. Your nutritional requirements have been met.”
“Mew!”
“Repeating the request does not alter the evidence.”
Berry’s ears tilted sideways.
Her tail thumped once.
“MEEEEW!”
Aventurine gasped and drew her against his chest.
“Daddy is being cruel to you, isn’t he, Princess?”
Ratio’s gaze snapped toward him.
“Vasha…”
Berry immediately rubbed her cheek beneath Aventurine’s chin.
“Oh, now you’re being affectionate.”
“Mrrrp.”
She reached for the plate again.
Aventurine pulled her safely back.
“Ah-ah. Sympathy has its limits. I have points at stake.”
Berry stared at him in betrayal.
“…Don’t look at me like that. I’m on probation.”
“Mew.”
“Take it up with management.”
Ratio raised an eyebrow.
“At least one of you is beginning to understand the rules.”
Aventurine laughed and looked around the kitchen.
Breakfast for three—well, technically two, despite Berry’s objections. Ratio at the stove. Berry warm and disgruntled against his chest.
For a moment, it was dangerously easy to imagine this becoming ordinary.
Tomorrow morning.
The morning after that.
He could learn where Ratio kept the coffee. Berry would demand breakfast five minutes early. Ratio would complain when Aventurine put something back in the wrong cupboard.
His gaze drifted toward the stairs.
Upstairs, his bag remained packed.
Six days.
Aventurine rolled the thought away as easily as the coin between his fingers.
“Come now, Princess. Let’s allow Daddy to finish breakfast before we both lose points.”
“Mrr…”
He smiled and scratched beneath her chin.
For now, that would have to be enough.
=========
Ratio had barely finished his breakfast when his phone rang.
He glanced at the screen.
His expression changed immediately.
“Excuse me.”
Aventurine watched him step aside.
“Ratio speaking.”
A pause.
“You obtained the results already?”
Whatever followed had the professor’s full attention.
Within minutes, Ratio stood and disappeared briefly down the hallway.
When he returned, Aventurine nearly whistled.
Ratio had traded his relaxed morning appearance for a long white coat, the dark blue beneath it fitted neatly across his chest. Gold details caught the light at his collar and waist, while his glasses completed the transformation from eccentric cat father to distinguished professor.
Aventurine let his gaze travel over him once.
My.
Apparently Professor Ratio came with a work uniform.
Aventurine approved.
Ratio reached for his work bag.
“Running away from me already?”
“A complication arose at the laboratory.”
“Serious?”
“Merely inconvenient.”
Aventurine studied him.
He was still learning how to translate Professor Ratio.
Merely inconvenient could mean a misplaced document.
It could also mean the laboratory was on fire.
Somehow, Ratio looked equally capable of using the phrase for either.
Ratio adjusted one sleeve.
“I also have a lecture this afternoon. I may not return until evening.”
Aventurine glanced toward Berry.
“…So Her Highness and I have the castle to ourselves.”
Ratio paused.
His ruby eyes moved from Aventurine—
to Berry—
then back to Aventurine.
A brief look of realization crossed his face.
“…Yes.”
Aventurine smiled.
Ratio’s eyes narrowed.
That smile did nothing to improve the situation.
Unfortunately, he had neither the time nor the alternative to reconsider it.
“I expect to return to my home in the same condition in which I am leaving it.”
Ratio checked the time and put on his shoes.
“Such little faith, sweetheart. The cards haven’t even been dealt and you’re already betting against me.”
“That was not reassurance.”
Aventurine flicked his coin into the air and caught it neatly.
“I intended to show you the rest of the apartment this morning. We will do so when I return.”
Ratio pointed toward Aventurine.
“Until then, do not reorganize anything.”
“Wouldn’t dream of changing the table before I know the game.”
“Do not enter my study or my kitchen without reason.”
“Ah. Two cards I’m not permitted to turn over.”
“Precisely.”
“Your secrets are safe from me, Professor. I still have your statues to occupy my attention.”
Ratio gave him a long look.
“Reminder: use only the cloth I provided.”
“Naturally, sweetheart.”
Ratio appeared unconvinced then his attention shifted to Berry.
She had followed him to the door and now sat beside his feet, staring up at him.
“Mrr?”
Ratio’s expression softened.
He bent slightly, one hand already reaching toward her—
then seemed to remember Aventurine was watching.
“Ahem.”
He adjusted his glasses.
“Berry. Behave yourself while I am away.”
“Mew!”
“And be a good girl.”
His hand descended anyway, giving her a brief scratch between the ears.
“I will return this evening.”
“Hey, doc.”
Ratio glanced up.
Aventurine crouched beside Berry and slipped one arm beneath her, lifting her carefully against his chest.
Berry settled into his arms without protest.
The usual teasing smile was gone.
“Don’t worry about her,” Aventurine said quietly. “Go take care of your work. I’ll stay with the lil’ one.”
He adjusted Berry slightly when she shifted, one hand supporting her securely.
“She’ll be safe with me.”
Ratio went still.
Aventurine had spent most of the morning treating his trial like a wager—points to win, odds to improve, rules to negotiate.
But there was no wager in his voice now.
No joke.
He simply held Berry as though being entrusted with her meant something.
Berry looked perfectly content with the arrangement.
Ratio’s gaze lingered on them for another moment.
“…Very well.”
It was not quite I trust you.
Not yet.
But Aventurine suspected it was considerably closer than yesterday.
Ratio reached for the door.
“Call me if anything is amiss.”
“I will.”
This time, Aventurine did not turn it into a joke.
Ratio noticed.
Another glimpse beneath the peacock’s many layers of plumage.
How curious.
Then he left.
=====
The door clicked shut.
Silence.
Berry stared at it.
Father was gone.
She knew this part.
Sometimes he disappeared through that door for a little while.
Sometimes he disappeared for much longer.
Berry did not approve of the longer version.
“Looks like it’s just us, Princess.”
Ah.
Right.
The new human.
Berry twisted in his arms.
He understood immediately and lowered her until her paws found the floor.
Good.
He was learning.
She circled his feet once, brushing her side against his ankle.
Then she pawed him.
Tap.
“Hm?”
Berry walked away.
Three steps.
She looked back.
The new human had not moved.
“Mew.”
He raised an eyebrow.
Berry walked several more steps.
Looked back again.
“…You want me to follow you?”
Obviously.
“Mew!”
A smile tugged at his mouth.
“An unofficial tour, then?”
Berry did not know what a tour was.
But he was finally following.
Excellent.
She raised her tail and continued.
“Lead the way, Princess.”
First: the important place.
Berry jumped onto her favourite cushion, turned three times and collapsed directly into the warm patch of sunlight.
Perfect.
The new human stared at her.
“…This is what you wanted to show me?”
“Mrr.”
Berry stretched until her toes spread.
He laughed.
“Ah. Prime real estate.”
Precisely.
His attention wandered to the book beside her.
Father’s.
“…Though apparently your father visits too.”
Berry blinked slowly.
Of course.
Father sat here.
Father read here.
Sometimes Father became warm enough to sit on.
Therefore, this was a good place.
The book was irrelevant.
She allowed herself another moment of warmth before jumping down.
There were other important things.
The new human needed educating.
—
Second: the waiting place.
Berry trotted down the hallway.
The new human followed more quickly this time.
“Where to now, Princess?”
She stopped at Father’s study.
“Mew.”
“…Ah.”
The new human stopped too.
“Absolutely not.”
Berry looked up.
“Mrr?”
“Don’t give me that look. Your father specifically prohibited unnecessary entry.”
Too many noises.
Berry knew this room.
Father went inside.
Sometimes he came out quickly.
Sometimes he stayed inside for many, many naps.
Berry was not supposed to go in by herself.
But when Father was inside, sometimes Berry went in too.
There was Father’s chair.
There were flat things he liked to look at.
Berry was not supposed to sit on them.
She did anyway.
There was also a flower.
Flower smelled interesting.
Flower tasted better.
Father disagreed.
But Father was not inside now.
No Father.
No pats.
No play.
The room was boring without him.
Berry walked three steps to the side and climbed into her bed.
Yes.
Father went through this door.
Berry waited.
Father came back through this door.
This was the waiting place.
The new human looked from her bed to the closed door.
His face changed.
The smile went away.
Berry watched him.
Strange.
When Berry was unhappy, Father gave her pats.
Sometimes he brought her toys.
Then Berry felt better.
Toys were good.
Berry looked down.
Her mouse was beside his foot.
Perfect.
Berry looked at the mouse.
Then at the new human.
He was still looking at her.
She lowered her head and bit the mouse.
Squeak.
Then she looked up at him again.
Toy.
For him.
The new human looked down.
“…Is this for me?”
“Mrr.”
Yes.
He understood.
He picked up the mouse.
Berry watched.
The new human wiggled it.
Her eyes locked onto it.
Her body dropped instantly into a crouch.
Oh.
Moving mouse.
Even better.
The new human blinked.
Then laughed.
“Oh, so you just wanted to play?”
Not exactly.
The mouse moved again.
Berry’s tail twitched.
“All right, Princess. I’m good for a round at the table.”
He tossed it.
Berry launched herself after her prey.
She caught it.
Kicked it.
Bit it.
Killed it magnificently.
Then brought it back and batted it toward his feet.
The new human laughed.
“Again?”
Obviously.
“Mew!”
—
After several more successful hunts, Berry left the thoroughly defeated mouse at the new human’s feet.
Enough.
He looked happier now.
The toy had worked.
There were still important places to show him.
Berry raised her tail and continued down the hallway.
“Oh, we’re moving on?”
“Mew.”
The new human followed.
“I’m coming, Your Highness. Lead the way.”
Good.
He was learning very quickly.
Third: Father’s chair.
Berry jumped onto her usual corner and settled immediately.
Father’s smell lingered there.
Books.
Tea.
Soap.
And Berry, naturally.
The new human looked around.
“So this is where the great Professor Ratio spends his evenings.”
“Mrr.”
His attention moved to the square things Father liked to look at.
Then the things hanging on the wall.
Humans liked putting shiny things on walls.
Father had many.
Berry found them considerably less interesting than the string on his reading glasses.
Then the new human crouched.
“…What is that?”
Oh.
That.
The new human reached beneath the chair and retrieved the yellow thing.
Squeak.
Berry’s ears perked.
She knew that sound.
The yellow thing usually lived beside Father’s big water place.
Berry had found it there.
She had carried it here.
It was better here.
The new human looked at the yellow thing.
Then at Berry.
“…He takes rubber duckies into the bath, huh?”
Apparently this was important.
“Oh, to think the great Veritas Ratio has an adorable side to him.”
Berry began washing her paw.
The new human put the yellow thing down.
Good.
Perhaps Berry would move it somewhere else later.
Then the new human noticed Father’s exercise equipment.
He stopped.
“…Of course.”
Berry continued washing.
“Eight doctorates weren’t enough. He had to collect biceps too.”
Berry had no idea what a doctorate was.
She did, however, know what Father’s arms were for.
They picked her up.
Therefore, they were adequate.
The new human wandered toward Father’s heavy things.
He crouched and wrapped one hand around one of them.
Then he lifted it.
His eyebrows rose.
“…My. You don’t play around, do you, Professor?”
Berry stopped washing.
What was he doing?
Those were Father’s things.
Father picked them up.
Father put them down.
Picked them up.
Put them down.
Many times.
Berry had never understood why.
Not food.
Not prey.
Not even comfortable to sit on.
Yet Father played with them often.
Now the new human was doing it too.
Strange.
Perhaps this was how humans played.
It did not look very exciting.
Mouse was better.
Mouse squeaked.
Mouse could be chased.
Mouse could be killed magnificently.
Humans could learn a few things from cats.
“Mew?”
He lifted the heavy thing once more.
“One moment, Princess.”
No.
Berry jumped down.
Enough playing with Father’s things.
The tour was not finished.
She trotted toward the hallway and looked back.
“Mew!”
The new human sighed and carefully returned the heavy thing to its place.
“All right, all right. I’m coming.”
Good.
—
Finally: the best place.
Berry returned to her cushion.
The sunlight had moved, but enough remained.
She jumped up and began kneading.
Left paw.
Right paw.
Left.
Right.
Good.
Once the cushion was sufficiently prepared, she turned twice and looked back.
The new human stood nearby.
“Mew!”
He raised an eyebrow.
Berry pawed at the empty space beside her.
“…For me?”
“Mew mew.”
Yes. Him.
He hesitated.
Humans did that too much.
Then he sat beside her.
“My, what an honour.”
Berry immediately pressed herself against him.
Warm.
She turned twice and tucked her back against his stomach.
“Oh…”
The new human went still.
Berry looked up.
Why was he scared?
Father went still like that sometimes too.
Sometimes he rubbed his forehead.
Berry knew what to do then.
She purred.
Purring helped.
So Berry began to purr.
The new human slowly relaxed.
“Princess, you’re too good to me.”
An arm curled around her.
Oh.
This was better.
His fingers scratched beneath her chin.
Much better.
Berry pushed into them.
“You like being the little spoon, don’t you, Princess?”
She did not know what a spoon had to do with anything.
But this was comfortable.
“Mrr.”
“You’re making it very easy to get used to this.”
His hand moved slowly along her back.
Good.
The new human was proving surprisingly trainable.
“Careful, my Lady Luck.”
His voice had become quieter.
“You keep this up and I might start thinking I’m welcome here.”
Berry’s ear twitched.
More human noises.
She understood only one important thing:
His hand had stopped.
Unacceptable.
Berry pushed herself more firmly against him.
The hand started moving again.
Better.
She closed her eyes.
Warm human. Good scratches. Excellent sunspot.
Perhaps there would be treats later.
Berry drifted happily to sleep.
=====
The front door opened sometime that evening.
Berry’s head rose immediately.
Aventurine looked up from the sofa.
Ratio stepped inside, looking considerably less immaculate than he had that morning. His coat hung over one arm, his work bag over the other.
Berry hopped down and trotted toward him.
“Mew!”
Ratio’s expression softened.
“Yes, Berry. I have returned.”
His voice held a warmth Aventurine was beginning to recognize as reserved almost exclusively for his daughter.
“Welcome home, doc.”
Ratio paused.
Just briefly.
Then his gaze travelled across the sitting room.
Aventurine had apparently made himself quite comfortable in his absence. A cup of tea rested on the table, while several of the sofa cushions had somehow migrated into what could generously be described as a nest.
Ratio raised an eyebrow.
“You seem to have made yourself comfortable.”
“Courtesy of your daughter. Excellent tour guide.”
Berry rubbed against Ratio’s ankle.
“Berry did?”
Ratio looked down at her.
“I gather the kitchen was her first destination.”
“Oh, she showed me much more than the kitchen.”
Aventurine’s smile widened.
“You’d be surprised what an excellent guide she is, doc.”
Ratio’s eyes narrowed.
“That does not reassure me.”
Aventurine laughed.
“I thought I told you I would show you around.”
“And keep all your little secrets to yourself? Where’s the fun in that?”
“I have no idea what you think you discovered, but I strongly advise against elaborating.”
That only made Aventurine laugh again.
“Want anything, doc? Water? Something cold? I would’ve offered dinner, but you did say the kitchen was off-limits.”
The casual offer caught Ratio off guard.
He could not remember the last time he had returned home to someone waiting in the sitting room, much less someone asking whether he needed anything.
For years, coming home had meant silence.
Tonight there was a cat winding around his ankles, a cup of tea on his table, and a blond menace nesting among his sofa cushions as though he had always belonged there.
An unfamiliar picture.
Not an unpleasant one.
“…No, thank you for the offer. I intend to take a quick bath.”
Aventurine’s brows rose.
“Straight to the bath? Already? And here I thought we could play a round of cards and open a bottle from your collection.”
Aventurine tilted his head.
“Though, judging by Berry’s tour today, you don’t seem to be much of a drinker, doc.”
“I have little interest in voluntarily ingesting toxins. You, on the other hand, would benefit considerably from replacing some of those beverages with water and protein.”
Aventurine blinked.
“Someone’s bitey today. Rough day at the lab?”
“My assistants spent the afternoon being anything but assistive.”
Aventurine’s mouth curved.
“Ah. Too much contact with the outside world?”
“Among other irritants.”
“And now you need to wash the entire day off you.”
Ratio gave him a look.
“Precisely.”
Aventurine laughed.
“My condolences, Professor.”
“Your sympathy is unnecessary. Soap will suffice.”
“Fair enough.”
Another thought occurred to Ratio.
“You did not reward Berry with additional treats for her services as your guide, I hope.”
Aventurine pressed a hand to his chest.
“Oh, come now, doc. You have that little faith in me?”
Ratio raised an eyebrow.
Aventurine held his gaze for a moment.
Then he laughed.
“Relax, sweetheart. I didn’t overfeed your daughter.”
He gave him a wink.
“Her payment was strictly in praise and permission to face-plant into her tummy.”
“…Good.”
Ratio’s gaze dropped briefly to Berry.
Aventurine caught it.
His smile widened.
“Oh? Don’t tell me you’re jealous, Professor.”
“Of what?”
“Your daughter granted me tummy privileges.”
“I assure you, I am perfectly capable of burying my face in my own cat.”
Aventurine laughed.
“Though she drives a hard bargain.”
Ratio ignored him and disappeared down the hallway.
A moment later, the distant sound of running water reached the sitting room.
Aventurine glanced toward the hallway.
Apparently, the professor took his post-work decontamination very seriously.
Half an hour later, footsteps approached.
He looked up.
And very nearly forgot what he had been doing.
Ratio had exchanged his work clothes for a deep blue robe, loosely belted at the waist. His hair was still slightly damp from the bath, a few strands falling out of their usual immaculate arrangement.
Aventurine stared.
Really.
Some people spent fortunes constructing the illusion of effortless beauty.
Veritas Ratio apparently accomplished it by taking a bath.
Aventurine caught himself.
Behave.
He had already spent an unreasonable portion of breakfast studying the professor’s arms. There was no need to expand the research.
Ratio, mercifully, seemed preoccupied with something tucked beneath one arm.
Aventurine’s admiration died instantly.
The whiteboard.
“…Oh.”
Ratio raised an eyebrow.
“You appear considerably less pleased to see me now.”
“I preferred you before you brought the instrument of judgment.”
“How unfortunate.”
Ratio settled into the armchair and placed the whiteboard across one knee.
Berry immediately trotted over and sat beside him.
Aventurine eyed the marker in his hand.
“Is this the part where I learn whether I’ve disappointed the house?”
“This is an assessment, Vasha, not a sentencing.”
“Comforting distinction.”
Ratio uncapped the marker.
Professor mode.
Aventurine straightened almost instinctively.
“What were your primary responsibilities today?”
Aventurine blinked.
“My, are we having an oral examination now?”
Aventurine gestured toward Berry.
“Surely the results speak for themselves. Your daughter looks remarkably pleased with today’s nanny mission.”
Ratio glanced at Berry.
His eyes swept over her once.
Her coat was neatly brushed, smooth and free of loose fur.
That much was evident.
Everything else was considerably less useful.
Berry was sprawled beside Aventurine with the contentment of a cat who had already decided he could do no wrong.
Ratio raised an eyebrow.
“Her grooming appears adequate. Beyond that, Berry is hardly an impartial source.”
Aventurine faked a shocked expression.
“You’re accusing your own daughter of bias?”
“She was biased in your favour before the assessment began.”
“Ah. So I already had the judge in my pocket.”
“Precisely why her testimony is inadmissible.”
Aventurine laughed.
“Fine. Ask away, Professor.”
Ratio uncapped the marker.
“What were your primary responsibilities today?”
Aventurine began counting them off on his fingers.
“Meals according to schedule. Fresh water. Grooming. Play and enrichment. Keeping track of her toys. Ensuring Her Highness does not consume anything she shouldn’t.”
Berry’s ears twitched at the mention of food.
“And?”
Aventurine narrowed his eyes.
There was always an and with professors.
“Keeping her away from places she isn’t permitted.”
“Such as?”
“The dining table.”
Ratio waited.
“…Your study.”
“Good.”
The marker moved.
Aventurine leaned forward.
“Was that worth a point?”
“Do not interrupt.”
“I merely wish to understand the scoring system.”
“You wish to manipulate the scoring system.”
Aventurine smiled.
“Those needn’t be mutually exclusive.”
Ratio continued writing.
“You lost one point this morning for providing unfiltered water.”
“Still haunting me.”
Ratio ignored this.
“You corrected the error when instructed. Feeding was otherwise adequate.”
Another mark.
“Berry received sufficient play and enrichment?”
Aventurine glanced at her.
“Your daughter conducted a rather extensive tour of the premises, after which I was required to participate in the repeated murder of a mouse.”
Ratio’s marker stopped.
“…Her toy mouse.”
“Naturally.”
“Your phrasing was needlessly alarming.”
“She was very convincing.”
Berry gave a small, pleased chirrup.
Ratio added another point.
“How much was that?”
“Sit back.”
Aventurine obeyed, though his eyes remained fixed on the board.
“Can you blame me? Hard not to watch the table when there are points at stake.”
Ratio glanced at him.
“You continue to describe an employment assessment as though it were a game of chance.”
“There are points and a prize.”
“Employment is not a prize.”
Aventurine glanced around the apartment.
His answer came more quietly.
“Depends on the stakes.”
Ratio looked at him.
Just for a moment.
Then he returned to the board.
“Did you groom her correctly?”
“Brushed her correctly at the correct time which was after lunch. She objected to approximately thirty percent of the procedure.”
“Normal.”
“I assumed so after she attempted to eat the brush.”
“Also normal.”
Another mark.
“Any unauthorized food?”
“Despite an aggressive lobbying campaign, none.”
“Good.”
Another scratch from the marker.
Aventurine watched his score creep upward.
“Anything else?”
The blond considered it.
“Checked beneath the furniture after we toured. Put her toys back. Cleaned her bowl. Kept her company.”
“Such as?”
“Meowing at birds.”
Ratio’s marker stopped.
“…You did what?”
“Meowed at birds.”
“I heard you the first time.”
“You should try it, doc. Strangely therapeutic.”
Ratio regarded him over the rim of his glasses… then the marker resumed.
“Anything else?”
“Apparently Her Highness decided I was working too hard on my first day.”
“Did she, now?”
“Mhm. Personally escorted me to the best napping spot in the house.”
Aventurine pointed toward the sunlit cushion by the window.
Ratio followed the gesture.
“Then she graciously permitted me to share it.”
“How magnanimous of her.”
“She even used me as a pillow. I believe that constitutes an excellent performance review.”
Ratio looked down at Berry.
Berry blinked innocently up at him.
His gaze returned to the cushion.
He could picture it easily: Berry curled against Vasha beneath the afternoon sun, perfectly content to sleep in the arms of someone who had been a stranger only days ago.
That was not inconsequential.
Berry did not manufacture trust for the sake of an assessment.
Ratio added one final mark.
“Was that for the nap?”
“No.”
“The bird conversation?”
“Certainly not.”
“Then what?”
Ratio capped the marker.
“Keeping her company.”
Aventurine’s next teasing remark never came.
For a moment, he simply looked at Ratio.
Before he could think of a reply, Ratio had already turned the board around.
DAY ONE
Feeding and water: +1
Grooming: +2
Play and enrichment: +2
General care: +2
Following instructions: +1
TODAY: +8
Ratio drew a line beneath the assessment.
TOTAL: 13 / 50
Aventurine stared.
Thirteen.
His eyes moved automatically to fifty.
Then back to thirteen.
The distance between them suddenly looked considerably larger.
“You look troubled.”
“Just calculating my odds.”
“You have completed only the first full day of your trial.”
“And I’m still thirty-seven points short.”
“Yes. After one day.”
Aventurine glanced at him.
Ratio capped the marker.
“Your performance improved as the day progressed. There is no reason to assume that improvement will cease tomorrow.”
Aventurine was quiet.
“Is that encouragement, Professor?”
“It is an observation.”
“Mm. Sounded suspiciously encouraging to me.”
Ratio gave him a flat look.
“Do not make me reconsider it.”
Aventurine laughed softly.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, doc.”
“Good. You have six days remaining. Use them.”
Ratio fished something from his pocket.
“One further matter.”
Aventurine looked up suspiciously.
Ratio placed a small gold duck sticker beside the score.
Aventurine blinked.
“…I still get the duck?”
“I can take it back if you don’t want it.”
Aventurine stared at the little gold sticker.
Then he smiled.
Not the polished smile he gave strangers.
Something smaller.
“Careful, Professor. Keep rewarding me like this and I might become difficult to get rid of.”
“Reach fifty before becoming presumptuous.”
Ratio set the board aside.
Berry meowed.
Aventurine glanced down at his Lady Luck.
Then at the little gold duck beside his score.
Thirteen points.
Six days remaining.
The odds could certainly be better.
Fortunately, poor odds had never frightened him.
=====
Later that night, Aventurine found himself in an unusually good mood.
Sleep, as usual, refused to cooperate, but for once he didn’t particularly mind.
He checked the time.
Two in the morning.
Topaz was probably still at the office, buried beneath another mountain of paperwork.
He reached for his phone and dialled her number.
She answered after several rings.
“Aventurine? Why are you calling at this hour?”
“Would you believe me if I said I missed you guys?”
“Ew. Please cut the act.”
Then her voice changed.
“You’re not in trouble, are you? You’re not hurt?”
“If nearly suffocating in fluffy fur counts as an injury, then yes. Otherwise, I’m fine.”
“Fluffy fur?”
Aventurine glanced around the room.
His bag still sat beside the bed, unopened.
“Found myself a job.”
There was a pause.
“…A job.”
“Temporary one. Cat nanny.”
Another pause.
“You’re a cat nanny?”
Aventurine laughed under his breath.
“Try not to sound so impressed.”
“I’m trying to understand how you declined my offer to look after my Numby, yet somehow—”
Topaz stopped herself.
“Never mind. Are you at least somewhere safe?”
Aventurine’s gaze wandered toward the closed bedroom door.
Somewhere beyond it, Berry was probably curled up with her father.
“Yeah,” he said, quieter. “The safest I’ve been in a long time.”
Silence.
Then Topaz exhaled.
“Good.”
A faint sound came through the other end.
Footsteps.
Topaz abruptly went quiet.
Aventurine frowned.
“Topaz?”
A familiar, silken voice drifted through the call.
“A cat nanny?”
Aventurine went still.
Topaz sighed.
“…Jade.”
A soft laugh followed.
“How interesting.”
Aventurine closed his eyes.
Of course.
“Not bad for an ex-slave, right, Jade?”
“I’ve always known you could do anything once you put your mind to it, boy.”
Aventurine rolled his eyes.
“On that touching note, good night, Topaz.”
“Yeah. We’ll talk again.”
He ended the call.
Across the city, Topaz lowered her phone.
Jade stood nearby, her expression thoughtful.
“What do you think, Miss Jade?”
Jade’s smile deepened.
“I’m happy for him. It seems our Aventurine has finally opened a new chapter in his life.”
The words were kind.
Somehow, Topaz could not find any warmth in them.
To be continued…