Knawan Ysenna doesn't miss the signs of Orien's distraction the following day. "You've got something on your mind," she says mildly, watching as her assistant stares at the bookshelves, failing to do anything with the books in her arms. "My uncle wants to get rid of me," Orien says. "What did you say?" "He said I should get married. Or find some kind of partnership." "Ah, I see." Ysenna puts her pen down and rubs her chin in thought. "Because you come of age next year." "Yes. And since I didn't make it into the Lyceum, he wants me to do something else 'proper'." She stresses the last word with extra sarcasm. "I see." "I'm sorry!" Orien turns with sudden remorse. "I love working for you! But..." "But it's not a full-time, well-paid position," Ysenna says. "No. But..." Orien places the books back on the desk in front of her mentor, and gathers her courage in both hands. "Hm?" "I was thinking..."