Before Temperance could respond, a small figure darted between them, followed by another, and then another, the careful order of the gathering briefly interrupted by a cluster of children who moved with the unselfconscious energy of those who had no interest in ceremony beyond what it allowed them to do.
“If you fall now, you will be made to sit still for the remainder of the morning, and I assure you that will be far worse.”
“I was not going to fall,” the child said, with complete confidence.
“You were absolutely going to fall,” she replied, though her tone softened as she released him, smoothing his sleeve with the same instinctive care she had once reserved for herself.
Temperance watched the exchange for a moment, something quiet and observant settling into her expression, as she took in the way her friends moved now, not as they had before, notas young women navigating expectation and uncertainty, but as something more grounded, more certain, their attention divided easily between conversation and the small lives that orbited around them.
“You have multiplied,” she said, after a moment.
Charity followed her gaze and smiled.
“We have been busy.”
“That is one way of describing it,” Alethea said, though without disagreement, her attention shifting briefly toward another child who had begun examining something he clearly ought not to be examining.
“They are very determined,” Temperance said.
“They are relentless,” Charity corrected. “Which, I have been informed, is a trait they did not inherit from me.”
“They inherited it from their fathers,” Alethea said.
Temperance smiled, though her gaze lingered just a moment longer, something thoughtful passing through it as she watched one of the children tug at Charity’s sleeve and receive, without hesitation, her full attention in return.
“You look at ease,” Charity said suddenly, her focus returning just as quickly, her expression sharpening slightly as though she had only just noticed it. “Which is not what I expected.”
“What did you expect?” Temperance asked.
“Nerves,” Alethea said. “Possibly a well-constructed argument as to why you should not go through with this.”
“I have already made all of those arguments,” Temperance said.
“And?” Charity asked.
“And I no longer believe them,” she replied.
There was a brief paused and Alethea studied her more closely now, something shifting in her expression that suggested recognition rather than surprise.
“Oh,” she said softly.
“Yes,” Temperance said.
Charity’s smile changed, “We had prepared ourselves to be needed.”
“You are needed,” Temperance said. “You are simply no longer required to prevent me from making a disastrous decision.”
Temperance’s gaze moved between them, the familiar rhythm of their voices settling into something steady and grounding, and for a moment she allowed herself to simply stand there and take it in without trying to step outside of it or observe it from a distance.
Across the room, Albina had moved away and now stood with Elias, the two of them positioned close enough to suggest intention rather than accident, their conversation animated in a way that drew occasional glances from those nearby.
“He looks very pleased with himself,” Temperance said, her attention shifting.
“He should be,” Charity said. “He has managed to secure your mother’s approval, which I understand is not easily done.”
“That is not approval,” Temperance said. “Rather, the beginning of it.”
As though aware of being discussed, Albina glanced in their direction, her gaze settling briefly on Temperance before shifting, with deliberate casualness, to Elias, who leaned slightly closer to say something that caused her expression to change in a way that was both restrained and unmistakable.
