I prefer seeing the crack of dawn. My mind wakes early and greets new days with quiet joy. By the time I finish dressing, my uniform is neat and my dark, thick curls fall in defined waves from the braid I slept in. I trim my eyebrows with careful magic, then dab Blanche's tinted balm across my lips, cheeks, forehead, and chin. The color warms my face without shouting for attention. I look adequate, and that feels like a small victory. It is still strange and pleasant to have female friends my age. I loved my home village people, but there was a lack of room for feminine desires, beauty products, and want-nots. Still, there is something new and exciting about sharing mornings, cosmetics, and whispered stories with other girls.
The commoner dorm hallway is quiet when I arrive. I rap on the door with steady confidence.
The door opens, and Aurore stands there, his voice low and rough with sleep, a cowlick greeting the day with more energy than him. "You are awake very early, and..."
His dark eyes stare down at me, maintaining their unreadable context.
"I prefer seeing the crack of dawn," I reply. "More importantly, I couldn't wait to walk to class together...all of us."
He steps aside to let me enter. "Please excuse the dorm. We decided to bake pasteries for our breakfast."
"It already feels like a home to me, and I enjoy the faint smell of baked goods," I say, softly inhaling the warm scent.
When he walks toward the hall, I lift a hand. Spark a small heat, and water spell to wet my palm.
"Aurore. Hold still, please," I tell him.
He pauses and looks at me. "What. Why?"
"Because your hair is sticking up. One moment while I fix it."
"…Is it?"
"Yes, very much so."
I smooth the stubborn ducktail down. He is a head taller than me, so I rise onto the balls of my feet to reach. The closeness feels nearer than necessary, and I pretend not to notice.
"There you go," I say. "Handsome once more."
His ears turn pink immediately. "Thank you, Miss Ruisselet."
"Just Juniper, thank you, I reply. "You are welcome. Let me know if you need another favor."
"…I will try," he says, disappearing down the hall a little faster than before.
The bathroom door opens almost immediately afterward.
"I've lost my shoe! Has anyone seen my shoe?" Singe announces, panic rising in his voice.
"It's in your hand, Singe," Aurore says. Closely behind them.
"Oh!"
Aurore gently takes the shoe from Singe's hand and places it on the floor.
"Carefully, step in, Singe."
Singe steps into it with immediate relief.
"Wait! My tie is missing! Has anyone seen my tie?"
"It's around your neck," Aurore says. "Let me fix it for you."
"Oh."
Aurore ties it neatly.
"What would I do if you were not here, Aurore?" Singe asks.
"I am only doing this for you once, alright," Aurore replies.
"Thank you, Brother," Singe insists.
By the time Blanche steps from the girls' room, she looks ready for the day. Her curls frame her face softly, and her lips carry a light plum shade that complements her complexion and quiet allure.
"Blanche, your lip color is so lovely. Is it new?" I ask.
Blanche nods. "I saved this shade for new beginnings. I like to tell myself it is lucky, and that every misfortune eventually invites better fortune. It also smells of cinnamon, which makes the color more interesting. No one expects cinnamon when they see plum."
I stare at her with admiration. "Remarkable, Blanche. You are a genius in your own right. Truly. And the spice is such a fun surprise. How do you even come up with these ideas?"
Blanche's eyes soften, and she looks away slightly.
"…Thank you. You flatter me too much, Juniper. I will show you the recipe after class."
"I cannot wait," I say. "It is so exciting to finally have girl friends who like beauty products."
Blanche thinks for a moment. "Were there no girls in your hometown?"
I laugh lightly. "There were girls, but their version of fun was hog tying and horse racing. They see mud as dirt, not as a facial to soften the skin."
Blanche exhales in recognition. "Ah. I understand. I was often surrounded by the same type of women."
In unison, we slump our shoulders in shared defeat.
Blanche then lifts a small cloth-covered basket on the kitchen counter.
"I have a pastry for you," she says. "Strawberry flavored. It is made with Espoir's flower and herb butter from last night."
I accept the croissant. It is flaky and warm, dotted with strawberry bits, and scented faintly with floral butter. I take one bite. The strawberry cream coats my tongue in rich sweetness, and my thoughts fizz like small bubbles. Blanche watches patiently for my reaction.
Instead of answering, I pull her into a tight embrace, carefully holding the croissant away from her hair.
"You are dangerous," I say. "Feeding me pastries this early."
"You needed breakfast," Blanche replies, giggling like air was lace and soft feathers falling. "And we made extra with you in mind."
"I needed this breakfast," I say. "And now I want to bring you all the meat you could ever want."
Blanche's expression shifts to concern. "Please do not take too much from your kitchen and get yourself in trouble, Juniper. We are well fed. Meat is lovely, but not at your expense."
I squeeze her tighter. "When you say it like that, I want to buy you all the meat in the world."
Blanche begins to squirm, shy and earnest. "I do not need that. Your friendship is already enough for me."
I step back, clutching my croissant and my chest. "Your sweetness is too powerful. My heart cannot withstand it."
Blanche hides her blushing face behind her hands and lightly punches my shoulder. "Stop it, Juniper. You are so embarrassing."
I grin at her, completely unrepentant.
Later, Blanche leans closer, lowering her voice.
"Singe was pestering Aurore with questions about fire magic and control," she whispers. "We did not even realize it bothered Aurore. Then the stove burst into flames and charred the first batch. Aurore apologized immediately. He turned completely red and looked so ashamed. Singe apologized for badgering him too, then told him he thought he was really cool. They had a wholesome moment together afterward, and Aurore began helping Singe stay focused. I think he felt a bit sorry for seeing he hurt Singe's feelings, but I suspect Singe was simply too excited to know Aurore."
I glance toward Aurore, who is fastening his satchel straps with his usual unreadable expression. It is difficult to imagine him flustered and surrounded by smoke.
"Tragic that I missed such a moment," I say softly. "He is rather handsome, do you not think?"
"It was unfortunate," Aurore says from across the room.
My heart jolts, but I hope and assume he only caught the first part.
I recover quickly. "Did Bariq forgive you? He seems to have authority in the kitchen, and it seemed he knew his spices from last night's dinner.'
Aurore considers this. "I am currently on a probationary period."
I press a hand to my chest. "So the true Kitchen Master reveals himself."
"Cooking is a sacred practice," Bariq says, adjusting the monocle over his seeing eye. "I will not allow anyone here to eat poorly. Or char, for that matter. Reasonable enough, Aurore?"
Aurore silently nods, respecting the other boy's role in the group. I give Bariq a thumbs up, then realize I chose his blind side. I switch hands quickly, and smile wide in hopes he didn't take it to heart. Bariq shakes his head in amused disapproval. Aurore stares at me for a moment. Blanche quietly raises her thumb beside mine.
After Blanche and I finish our third helping of croissants, we remain in the kitchen while the boys eat at the long table. Blanche asks about orientation, and I tell her about the pretty but sad boy who let me sneak inside. I describe the gold stitching on his uniform and the rare fabric. Blanche listens thoughtfully.
"Is Aurore good in your eyes as well?" she asks softly.
We glance toward the table where Aurore sits straight-backed and calm. I choose not to answer immediately, but Cerise notices our gaze. "Do not trouble yourselves with gossip, men," he says lazily. "From my older sisters' experience, gossip grows chest hair."
Blanche and I turn identical glares toward him. Cerise does not flinch. His doll-like features make the sly look almost eerie.
"We cannot all be without any at all like you, Cerise," I reply. "Pray tell, how do you stay so baby smooth for a boy?"
Cerise groans and covers his face with one large hand.
Singe gasps dramatically. "I will offer you my warmth, brother. I have plenty of body hair."
Bariq coughs into his hand to hide a laugh. Aurore looks at the ceiling, as though patience is a resource he must carefully ration. Blanche leans into my shoulder, giggling softly.
Blanche and I call down the hallway at the same time.
"Espoir!" We call.
A small head peeks out, eyes cautious and uncertain.
"Come eat with us, would you?" Blanche says sweetly.
"I do not want to bother anyone," Espoir whispers.
"You are not bothering anyone," I reply. "I am already on my third croissant. The herb butter you made is my new favorite, and we refuse to enjoy it without you."
Espoir looks at the floor for a long moment, then makes his way forward. He joins the boys beside Cerise. His clothes are neat, his braid redone, and a tiny plant embroidery rests on his blazer. It is subtle but not unnoticed. Blanche, Cerise, and I share small knowing smiles.
Walking around the shorter end of the long table, Singe stands beside a sat Espoir, and ruffles his hair warmly. "If anyone bothers you today, I will bother them back. I have your back, brother."
"…Yes. Thank you," Espoir answers quietly.
When it is time to leave, we gather into motion. The girls step out first. Aurore leads in silence, steady and composed. Bariq walks beside him, equally quiet. Blanche and I follow next to Singe, who is still chewing. Blanche wipes remaining crumbs from his cheek with her rose-embroidered handkerchief while he complains but does not resist. Behind us, Cerise allows Espoir to hold lightly to the back hem of his blazer, guiding himself forward with quiet trust. We move down the cobblestone path together. The sunrise pours warm light over the academy grounds. It feels like the day is unfolding in front of us, waiting to see what we will make of it.
As we walk, a thought settles in my chest. Panette is beginning her first day as well. I hope I will be there when she returns. Whatever awaits her in that special course, I want our dorm to be the place she can breathe again. A place where she can sit, eat, complain, cry, or simply exist without performing.