Good News

"If you're feeling well then you're required in the city to do official work regarding the charities and the solstice festival. Your father was considering investing some money into the orphanage to thank the deities for your healthy recovery," Frederick blurts, words running faster than his mind can think.

From years of informing her of her everyday duties since she became old enough to take the responsibilities of an heir, he's learnt to memorise the tasks before she emerges from the door.

Myra pauses in her tracks, which shocks him once and another time when she whips around at rapid spid and smacks him in the face with her hair.

"You said the city?! I get to go out?" Myra squeaks, voice so loud that it could travel through the entire corridor and wake everyone in the building. She hushes herself only when

Frederick makes a surreptitious glance around and curls his shoulders nervously. She grapples onto the man's shoulders and practically shakes him with so much intensity that he begins to go pale in the face.

"Yes, of course but you'll be with me and the guards. And Mariene will be following you out today because she has an arts assignment which requires going out." Myra pulls away from the flustered butler and dusts her hands to compose herself, instead turning back around to continue on her march to the dining table.

She does this with a wide grin on her face, quite excited to be able to go out again.

It bothers her that she'll be out with the youngest daughter, knowing they have a rather tense relationship overall. It may be better than what she has with Roseann—which is purely business, it seems.

However, it would be bad if she couldn't gain the trust of her siblings in the future as their help could be more vital than she'd thought.

Myra realises she might need to keep a diary for this. She sways her hips while she walks with a little jump in her step, forgetting any ill feeling she'd woken up with at all. For once, it turns out she's one of the first few at the breakfast table.

"Am I too early?" she questions, raising an eyebrow in question. Frederick stretches an arm weekly and pulls in a breath.

"My Lady, they're in the garden. That's what I've been trying to tell you while you were rushing all the way here," he corrects, huffing with his last ounce of energy within his limbs.

Myra turns around calmly, accepting her mistake before scuttling off again in the correct direction. The poor old man almost falls on his knees before he's forced to follow the boisterous young woman and reluctantly holds onto his last bit of willpower.

Myra strides into the garden where her family's seated on the table, busied with light conversation and the objects in their hands—Jalen, with his usual fidget toys and Mariene this time with a sketching pencil and paper which she's hiding under the table.

Her father looked proper as he did every morning, a stern expression on his face. She wondered if the old man could ever look unkempt or frazzled even in his panic, but it seems his hair is always plastered to one side of his head with gel.

"Good morning," she greets brightly, earning suspicious stares from her siblings who hadn't seen her since she passed out.

"Good to see you alive, sister," Jalen greets with a coy grin on his lips. It surely wasn't a wish she'd expected from her dear siblings upon just gracing her presence after an unfortunate spell. She forces a smile, swallowing a coil of discomfort to maintain her uplift attitude.

"Good to see you as well," Myra replies simply before averting her attention to her father. "You have a pleasant smile on your face today, father. I take it that you received good news?" she smiles, fixing her dress skirt against the chair.

The duke nods, blotting the corners of his mouth with a napkin to rid off invisible tea stains, which are unnoticeable even in broad daylight. He raises a hand to usher the butlers to the table with piping breakfast waiting to be served.

"I just got news that the situation in the Far East has been brought under control and Cole will be safely returning home by daybreak tomorrow. I heard that the matter was caused by spies sent from the Bougainvillea house, trying to destroy the land near the forests so we wouldn't be able to establish our orchards"

Myra furrows an eyebrow at the news, wondering how the later part of the news could be positive at all. "A foolish mentality, really—thinking that burning our camps would edge us into selling unclaimed property once we sent the soldiers out. They know what they have could not compete against our quality fruits," the duke explains haughtily, snorting with some kind of arrogance while he finally rests his hand against the table.

The siblings exchange surprised stares, sparing not more than smiles as well at the pleasant news of their brother's return.

While everyone is rather detached, trying to survive on their own accord rather than upholding the survival of the entire family, the respect held towards Cole is unmatched.

He has always been the person to take majority responsibility since he was in his early teens so the younger ones were given the option to pursue other options. After hearing of his achievements, Myra feels almost unfit to take over the house with him.

"I heard you have business for me to deal with at the orphanage. Why is it that you suddenly decided to make a generous donation for the children there?"

The duke wipes a bead of sweat from his eyebrow and looks up with certainty, "Well, considering we have numerous occasions to celebrate at once, I find it's only appropriate to give back to those who do need help. The orphanage has been under my care for a while."

"Father makes sure the abandoned children have a home and offers them jobs at the Ruskin orchards here once they're old enough so they can make a living," Mariene speaks up, unlike her usual self where she'd rather let the others do the explaining on her behalf.

Although it's rude for the youngest to voice her opinion without being given permission, the duke lets it slide upon being slightly flattered.

While the youngest had said no praise on top of her explanation, he felt as if he was doing something good, and Myra found that her father was quite charming to be so generous.

Breakfast tastes distinctly sweeter, perhaps because the fruits have been harvested under better conditions or that Myra's happier than most mornings.

Upon finishing her food, Myra sits back and glances towards the headlines of the papers, which mentions matters of the festival. A screech of the chair breaks her out of her momentary reverie.

Quickly dabbing the corners of her lips with the napkin, she stands with her hands holding the flamboyant skirt of her dress.

Because she's leaving for the city for the first time as a Ruskin lady, it's absolutely necessary that she looks her best, else her father would simply not allow it.

"Be responsible and handle the matters appropriately. I will need your updates on the contracts that I had Frederick put you with when you return," Duke Ruskin explains, walking shortly in front of Myra.