[center][h1]Nadalena Kofenstein[/h1][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][hr][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent]
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[sup] Ceremony Hall, Saint Hirst Academy for Fine Ladies [/sup][/center][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][hr][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent]
[i]Tilla Fitzgerald.[/i] [i]Room 2.[/i]

She didn’t recognize the name, but something in Nadalena urged her that this was not the most optimal of arrangements. Would it be like last year when she was grouped with the loudmouthed girl whom she couldn’t be bothered with remembering the name of or would this be fundamentally [i]worse[/i] somehow? 

Whichever the case, Nadalena wasn’t sure how to take the news without any relevant information worth remembering about the name coming to mind. Fitzgerald was a surname that fit a few select norms and as much as Nadalena could presume it meant her new roommate was some variance of Francian, Britannian, or a derivative colony of either. To think the academy would even be afforded by colonials that were not akin to their [i]szefowa[/i] nearly made Nadalena break character and smirk in amusement. Ignoring the thought, Nadalena continued to wait for further direction and for the ceremony to end proper; sitting, patient of what was to come of the rest of the morning.