[center][h2][color=92278f]Dot[/color][/h2][/center][hr]
[color=92278f]“Oh [i]gods[/i]”[/color]

Dot stood before the door to Suite 13, Room 1, red-faced with embarrassment. A noble boy for a roommate, [i]and[/i] some kind of marked special-treatment in the form of an enchantment, which may as well have been a sign made of fire saying: [u][i]‘SUSPISCIOUSLY DIFFERENT’[/i][/u]. She didn’t know what it did, or how to decipher it, but it took a great deal of restraint not to immediately grab something sharp and scrape it off. Her identity as an Alexandrian—and perhaps by extension, a royal bastard—might not have been the most well-kept secret, but it wasn’t her only one, either. The last thing she wanted right now was overt attention.

Well, no. The [i]last[/i] thing she wanted was a room with the prince. Instead they were neighbors. If that was fate, she’d be annoyed but unsurprised. If it was not fate, she would remember it. Liese was a comfortable choice by comparison, but despite their amicable introduction, Dot still had reservations about him. Sincerity did not preclude him from the sort of vileness she expected, even if it had not shown itself yet. 

But those were concerns for later. For now, it was best to get herself squared away, which likely wouldn’t be too difficult considering she had nothing left to her name but an empty coin pouch and the dirty shirt on her back. One of her other suitemates—Julian, she thought—came out of Room 4 briefly, and she nodded awkwardly to him before he retreated. She did the same, pushing into the room before the rest of the suite would come flooding in. 

Small. That was her first thought. Small, but not necessarily in a bad way. Small could be safe, it could be warm, and cozy. The only reference she really had was her room back home, which had been big, yes, but a thousand times more suffocating than this. Regardless of her roommate worries, the idea of sharing a space with someone brought her…relief. Countless times she had woken to the dark and empty. Isolation made her wrong. Ruined her. She would have taken Room 2, if it meant she wouldn’t be alone. 

She found uniforms on the beds. She’d change later; Liese knowing who she was meant that she wouldn’t have to sneak around to do it, at least. They didn’t look restrictive, but she’d still have to get used to moving in them as she did with all new clothing. It wasn’t just that dancing in dresses was different than dancing in trousers, it was different from one pair to the next, too. The type and quality of the fabric, the tightness of the waist, the tapering of the legs, it all mattered. The boots she could work with—if she could do aerials in the ratty things she had on, she could do them in these. 

Part of her wanted to crawl into the bed and sleep. She was tired and still a bit sore, but not more than she was hungry. A meal would give her energy, then maybe she could fit in a bit of training in the courtyard before calling it a day. After all, it never hurt to be prepared.