The morning room was warm, the fire having been lit early to ward off the winter chill. Outside the window, the snow had begun to melt, leaving ugly, muddy patches on the gravel drive.
"Read this," Jane said, tapping a line on the page of the notebook.
Morwenna leaned in, squinting slightly at the script. The words were French, and she recognised them immediately. She could follow the meaning without any effort at all, it settle neatly into her mind as if it had always belonged there.
But when she tried to speak, her tongue faltered.
"Je… je suis…" She hesitated, her brow furrowing. "Allée? Allé?"
"Allée," Jane corrected gently. "You are a girl, after all."
Morwenna repeated the word under her breath, testing the shape of it. "Je suis allée au parc."
"Good. Now write it."
She picked up the pencil, and this time, there was no hesitation. Her hand moved steadily across the paper, forming each letter with a slow but precise care. When she finished, the sentence sat clean and correct on the page.
Jane watched her, looking thoughtful. "Your comprehension is quick. It is faster than I expected."
"I can read it," Morwenna said, her frown deepening. "I just cannot say it."
"That will come with time. You simply need practice."
They continued their work at the table, a notebook open between them while Jane's tea sat forgotten at her elbow.
"Again," Jane prompted.
Morwenna drew in a breath. The words gathered in her throat, stubborn and uncooperative. "Je… m'appelle… Morwenna."
Jane nodded. "That was better. But the 'r' is still too hard. Soften the sound from the back of your throat."
Morwenna tried again, focusing on the vibration. "Je m'appelle Morwenna."
The sound still scraped uncomfortably, but it was less harsh than before.
"Good. Now write it."
She set the pencil to the paper, a task that came easily to her. Her hand moved with growing confidence, the letters flowing one after another without a pause. Her eyes recognised the patterns, and her fingers seemed to remember the strokes.
It was her speech that lagged behind, her mouth stumbling where her mind did not. She wrote the sentence three times, each version clean and correct.
Jane glanced over the page. "Your writing is far better than your speaking."
Morwenna scowled at the notebook. "My tongue is stupid."
Jane laughed softly. "No, ma petite. Just untrained." She reached over and closed the notebook. "That is enough for now. I want to tell you something."
Morwenna looked up, her interest piqued.
"Your debut ball. We had planned to hold it when you turned five, right after the second bath." Jane's expression flickered at the mention of the ritual that had led to the coma.
"We postponed it completely. You weren't ready, and we certainly weren't ready. So we will hold it this year instead, when you turn six."
Morwenna's eyes widened. "Six. That is in April."
"Yes. Your birthday party won't be just for the family this time. We will invite many people." Jane pulled a piece of parchment from a drawer. It was a list, with names written in her neat, elegant hand.
"The Greengrasses and the Flints. We are close with them. The Malfoys, the Parkinsons, and the Rosiers." She paused. "Sylvaine is a Rosier, of course, but she is already family. This invitation is for the main branch."
Morwenna looked at the list, seeing names she recognised from the films and books of her other life.
"The Bones, the Macmillans, the Longbottoms, the Browns, and the Bulstrodes."
Morwenna frowned at the parchment. "Only the British families? What about the French ones?"
Jane raised an eyebrow, her mouth curving into a knowing smile. Morwenna felt her ears grow warm and tried to keep her face neutral, but she failed miserably.
"Of course we will invite the French families," Jane said. "The Delacours, the Valcourts, the Beaumonts, and the Flamels."
Morwenna's eyes lit up at the mention of the Delacours.
Jane laughed and reached over to pinch the girl's cheeks. "What? You still don't remember much, but you really don't want her to escape your claws, do you?"
Morwenna squirmed, her face turning a deep red, though she didn't pull away. "I just want to reconnect with her. Talking face to face is better than letters."
Jane released her and tapped her nose playfully. "I really don't understand where you picked this up from. You are far too smooth for your age, even before the bath."
Morwenna's cheeks flushed even deeper. "It isn't my fault," she said indignantly, crossing her arms.
"Besides, they like me back. And Fleur didn't even say no." She let out a huff and looked away, pretending to be truly angry.
Jane simply ruffled her hair. "Fine, fine. My baby is already grown up and full of opinions."
Morwenna's face went redder still, and she rolled her eyes. Then she reached out and tugged on Jane's sleeve. "Mom, can you help me write the letter to Fleur? I want you to check if the wording is correct."
Jane raised an eyebrow. "Only Fleur? What about your godmother, Viviane? And your god-grandmother, Elara?"
Morwenna added hurriedly, "Of course, both of them too. And for Grand-père Nicholas."
"That's better," Jane smiled.
. . .
Morwenna picked up her pen and stared at the blank page. "What do I say?"
Jane leaned back in her chair. "Start with a greeting. Tell her you received her letters and explain why you didn't write back."
Morwenna nodded and began to write.
Dear Grande sœur.
She stopped and looked at Jane. "Is this right?"
"Yes. Continue."
I received all of your letters. I am sorry I didn't write back.
Morwenna frowned. "That sounds too cold."
"Then add the reason why."
There was an accident during my second bath ritual. There were many side effects, and one of them is that my memories are jumbled. I can't remember many things. I couldn't remember you. I am sorry.
Morwenna looked at her mother, who gave a supportive nod. "Good. Keep going."
I was bedridden for three months, followed by another month of recovery. After that, I had to relearn many things. I only saw your letters this week. I am very sorry.
"Now tell her about the ball," Jane prompted.
I will have my debut ball on my birthday, April 26, at Keith Manor. I am asking my parents to invite your family. I hope you can come.
Morwenna set down her pen. "Is that enough?"
Jane read the letter over. "One more thing. Tell her you are learning French again."
Morwenna picked up her pen once more.
I am learning French again. My reading and writing are fast, but my speaking is slow. My tongue feels stupid. I hope you won't laugh when we meet.
She signed her name at the bottom:
Nimue.
Jane looked at the finished letter. "Good. I will send it with the afternoon post."
Morwenna wrote three more letters.
The first was to Viviane, a short and apologetic note explaining her silence and recovery before inviting her to the ball.
The second was to Elara, thanking her for the bracelet and for staying to help when she was needed.
The third was a brief, formal invitation to Sylvaine, and the fourth was a letter of thanks to Nicholas for saving her life.
Jane sealed each envelope with wax, pressing the Keith crest into the dark green seals. Morwenna watched the wax harden until the door opened and Jack walked in. His expression was a mix of seriousness and something else she couldn't quite identify.
Jane looked up immediately. "What happened?"
Jack placed a heavy envelope on the table. The wax seal bore the Gringotts crest alongside a second, purple sigil. "We received a letter from Gringotts."
Jane took it, her eyes scanning the front. "It is addressed to Morwenna."
Morwenna stared at the writing on the front:
TO: MISS NIMUE KEITH
CLASSIFICATION: PRIVATE AND CONFIDENTIAL ACCOUNT CORRESPONDENCE — PERSONAL DELIVERY ONLY NOT TO BE OPENED BY ANY PARTY OTHER THAN THE ADDRESSEE
Jane held it out, and Morwenna took it. Her fingers were steady, but her heart was not. She broke the seal and pulled out the heavy, ornate paper.
***
GRINGOTTS WIZARDING BANK
EST. 35 AD, Founded Under Chieftain Gringooed
DIAGON ALLEY, LONDON
Account Reference: ALBERICH VAULT — THIRD CONFIRMATION
Correspondence Reference: APC/TH/1986/001
Date: 20th January, 1986
Dear Miss Nimue Keith,
Gringotts Wizarding Bank writes to you on a matter of account importance. This letter concerns you directly and has been addressed to you alone.
You hold an account at this bank that was established on your behalf long before your birth. A stipend attached to this account has been accumulating since you were born. The conditions required to release it have been met, and you have full and immediate access to this stipend upon presenting yourself at Gringotts.
No guardian signature is required, nor is any Ministry notification necessary. The account predates the current Ministry of Magic by a considerable margin and is not subject to its oversight in any form.
This account, however, is not the only matter that requires your attention.
Gringotts has conducted a preliminary assessment in accordance with the founding terms of a separate set of accounts also held in your name. The results of that assessment indicate that you meet the criteria specified by the accounts' founder.
We wish to be precise: this is a preliminary finding, not a confirmation. The founder's terms require that confirmation be conducted in person, at this bank, in the presence of your designated account manager. Until that confirmation is completed, the full scope of what is held for you here cannot be disclosed in writing.
What we are able to say is this: the accounts in question are significant. There are things held in trust for you at this bank that have waited a very long time.
It is customary for households of your lineage to hold a formal introduction following a second magical maturity. Gringotts had intended to write to you after such an occasion was recorded, but no such occasion has been recorded. We do not presume to know the reason, and it is not our place to ask.
We note only that nine months have now passed since your second magical maturity, and the founding terms require that this letter reach you within a defined window following that milestone. We can delay no longer. We write, therefore, in the hope that this letter finds you in good health, and that whatever circumstances attended your second maturity have left no permanent harm. We pray that is so.
You are requested to present yourself at Gringotts at your earliest convenience. Upon arrival, present this letter at the main desk, and you will be attended to directly. You may come alone or accompanied. Your parents are welcome to accompany you to the bank, and we would not suggest otherwise for a visit of this nature.
If you choose to bring a family member, please be advised that certain elements of the account business will be conducted privately between yourself and your account manager, in accordance with the terms of the account's founding. This is standard procedure and should not cause concern.
We look forward to meeting you, Miss Keith.
Yours in the tradition of honest dealing,
Threndak
Senior Account Manager
Temporary Alberich Primary Accounts Division
Gringotts Wizarding Bank, London
***
Morwenna read the letter twice, then a third time. When she finally looked up, Jane was watching her closely. Jack had moved to stand beside her mother.
"What does it say?" Jane asked.
Morwenna handed her the letter. As Jane read it, her eyebrows rose. "An Alberich stipend." She looked at Jack. "And an other vaults."
Jack took the parchment, his eyes moving quickly across the page. "The goblins do not summon lightly,"
Morwenna's mind was spinning. Three vaults, a stipend, and an inheritance test.
"How about tomorrow?" Jack suggested. "We can go to Gringotts first, and then to Dr. Meadows to update your records."
Jane nodded. "I agree."
= = =
I will be putting the crests for Evans, Keith, and Alberich either in a picture chapter, a separate auxiliary chapter, and also in the comment section here.
I also updated the Keith crest design. At first, it was described as a massive ancient oak with a silver serpent winding around it, roots spreading outward, and a crescent moon above the canopy. It had a very grounded, old magic kind of feel.
Now it has been changed completely.
The new design centers on a basilisk coiled into a perfect circle, forming an ouroboros as the outer border of the crest. Inside that circle, a phoenix rises. The basilisk does not consume the phoenix. It contains it. That contrast is intentional and reflects the Keith nature, controlled power, patience holding something intense within.
The basilisk itself is thick and heavy, its scales silver with a deep green sheen. Its head sits at the top, jaws open as if about to swallow its own tail, with a single glowing red eye. Inside the circle, the background is a deep forest green.
At the center, a phoenix burns brightly with wings fully spread. The colors are vivid, red, orange, gold, with a white-hot core. Above the basilisk's head, there is a small silver crescent moon, subtle but deliberate.
For the Evans crest, the concept is more restrained and symbolic.
It uses a single large crescent moon as the central element, set against a deep midnight indigo, almost like velvet field. Inside the crescent, there are small details. At the base, a coiled dragon, and at the tip, a high elven motif like a stylized vine or star.
The moon reflects Morgana's connection to old magic and hidden identity. The Evans line was hunted, so concealment became part of their nature. It also ties into the idea that the moon follows its own path.
As for the Alberich crest, it is a blend of both lineages.
It features both a full moon and a crescent moon on the same field. The full moon represents completeness, the density of the soul. The crescent represents what is incomplete, the part that they didn't have.
There is also a star, but not a solid one. It is only an outline, like a hollow shape rather than a filled symbol. It represents something vast that is still forming, something not fully realized yet. That empty space is intentional and reflects the Alberich nature more than a solid symbol ever could.