Mag/Juliette | The Roast | university location | 7.30am
Squires worthy of having wonderful things said about them probably didn’t miss training sessions to sit in coffee shops. She felt a bit ashamed, thinking of it. Perhaps she ought to have pretended she was ill this morning, after all, but the thought of being cooped up in her house, likely with a white mage in attendance… it hadn’t borne even thinking about. Besides, she was a dreadful actress, and she knew it.
The offer not to berate her was thus surprising and unexpected, and she found, as she looked down into her coffee, that she did not know what to say to it. Clearly she would not get by on subterfuge; it was obvious that the knight had grasped the fact that Juliette was not meant to be here this morning.
And how did one answer an admission of that sort? After all, one was expected to say one was fine even when one’s life was a shambles, but… perhaps it was not such a terrible thing, as her elder had said it first: “I… have also been better,” she replied at length, before attempting a small smile, though the attempt likely wasn’t entirely successful. “But I, too, will be… well.” At least, she certainly hoped so.