“Miss Jade, you shall be in charge of these children,” the man in the white robe said as he led her into a room off the corridor. “I apologize that you must use this space as a temporary classroom. You may rearrange the furniture as you see fit.”

  He appeared to be in his fifties, his expression warm and reassuring. “Do not concern yourself overly. It’s a simple task. Teaching them the alphabet and a few basic words will suffice.”

  Jade Yang - or rather, Jade Lysmere, now that she found herself in a body new to her - nodded, her shoulder stiff with nerves. “Ok-I mean, yes. I will. No problem.”

  The White Robe let out a quiet sigh. “Miss Jade, you truly must improve your manner of speech. To be able to read with such proficiency, yet speak so carelessly…” He paused, shaking his head. “It does make one wonder what befell you beneath the water, Miss Jade. May Pater Lucis bless you with wisdom.”

  “May the Light bless you too, Father Rochester,” Jade replied, bowing slightly.

  She waited until he had gone at least ten paces before releasing a long breath. Then she knocked, pushed the door open, and stepped inside.

  The noise in the room died instantly.

  It was small. Judging by the simple desks and chairs, it had likely been meant for a few members of the clergy - somewhere to complete paperwork or study holy texts. At most, it could comfortably hold ten people.

  Now, there were nearly fifty children crammed inside.

  They stood awkwardly among the furniture, careful not to touch anything, their clothes worn and their dances smudged with dirt. Nervous. Confused. And, if Jade was being honest with herself, in need of a proper bath.

  From their height, she estimated their ages ranged from eight to fourteen. The older children looked weary - some sorrowful, some plainly uninterested - while the younger ones stared at her with wide eyes, curiosity shining through their uncertainty.

  The sight stunned her for a moment.

  She cleared her throat and forced a smile. “Good morning, everyone, I’m Jade Ya-ehm-I mean, I’m Jade Lysmere. You can call me Miss Jade. I’ll be in charge of you for this… um, semester. Yes. Semester.”

  “Good morning, Miss Jade,” the children replied, though the greeting was uneven and poorly timed.

  They watched her closely.

  She appeared to be a woman in her twenties, her dark brown hair pulled into a bun and secured with a long stick - what they assumed was a hatpin, though none of them had seen a hatpin being used as such before. Her hazel eyes were gentle, but she stood stiffly, unease written plainly across her posture.

  Her clothes - an odd mixture of garments given by nuns and cast-off donations from farm women - made her seem closer to them than most adults they knew outside of parish. Yet her accent, her bearing, and the way she held herself suggested a status still above their own.

  “Ok- I mean, alright,” Jade said, rubbing her palms together. “Uh, first, let’s make some space.”

  She looked toward the taller, studier children. “You guys - could you stack the tables and chairs against the wall? Just over there is fine.”

  Fortunately, the plain tables held no papers or personal items. The last thing she needed was a scene involving accusations of theft or damage.

  Once the furniture had been moved, she had everyone sit on the floor. When the room finally settled, Jade stepped in front of the blackboard - a roughly painted slab leaning against the wall, clearly awaiting proper installation.

  She picked up a piece of chalk and wrote out the alphabet, uppercase and lowercase in careful rows.

  Jade turned back to the children and cleared her throat again, trying to suppress the awkwardness rising from deep in her chest.

  Gosh, my fingers were trembling. The chalk nearly slipped right out of my fingers!

  She gathered herself and spoke in the most genuine tone she could manage. “Um, as you can see, I’m new to this whole… teacher thing. And you guys are new to being students too. You’re nervous, I’m nervous, so - well - don’t worry. We’ll figure this out together, alright?”

  “Yes, Miss Jade.”

  This time, the response came with smiles. A few of the children relaxed, and Jade felt the tight knot in her chest loosen slightly.

  “Today, I’m going to teach you a song,” she continued. “The alphabet song.”

  She remained blissfully unaware that someone was observing the lesson through the window.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  “So that is the lady you saved from the River Lysmere?” Lord Theodore Ashborne asked, his tone curious. As the eldest son of the Earl of Wexleigh and patron of the Domus Ragged School of Wyrnfield, he carried himself with practiced ease. “She sounds rather foreign. Perhaps from a land far beyond Floland?”

  “I believe found her would be the more accurate phrasing,” Father Rochester, the chief clergy of the domus replied mildly. “She was clinging to a log and struggling toward the riverbank when I noticed her. Had I arrived later, she might well have made it ashore on her own.”

  “Any peculiarities since you took her in?” Lord Ashborne asked, glancing back at the classroom. Inside, Jade waved her arms as the children sang along, their voices rising in an uneven but enthusiastic chorus. “Teaching through song - an interesting approach. If it proves effective, I may recommend it to other schools.”

  “Aside from her manner of speech, which is somewhat… rustic for a woman so clearly literate,” Father Rochester said, smoothing his moustache, “she appears unfamiliar with her surroundings. She was also unusually alarmed when she discovered we drink without boiling it.”

  Lord Ashborne raised a brow, pulling his attention away from the hypnotising song of teaching the alphabet, “And why would that be? Does she simply prefer warm water?”

  Father Rochester frowned, recalling the scene with a wince - the shriek she’d let out was, in all honesty, quite unforgettable. “She claimed that diseases originate from unclean water, and that boiling renders it safe to drink. Much of her explanation escaped me, though I cannot deny that boiling does rid the water of the worms we occasionally pull from the river.”

  He paused. “As the effort was minimal - wood and coal being affordable - we adopted her suggestion. All drinking water now, including that drawn from the well, is boiled beforehand.”

  Lord Ashborne blinked, carefully masking his surprise as he looked once more at the young woman inside the room. “And she claims to remember nothing of her past? Save for her name?”

  “Yes,” Father Rochester said as they turned away from the window and began walking toward his study. “Her account is suspicious, yet she appears sincere. She volunteers for chores without prompting - though she is remarkably inept at them. She does not even know how to wash clothes properly.”

  He shook his head. “I suspect she comes from a wealthy household, family, or at least one where the lady of the house need not labour herself.”

  After a moment of thought, Lord Ashborne replied, “Based on the roughness of her hands, Father Rochester, I find myself unconvinced.”

  “It is possible she once lived in comfort before misfortune found her,” Father Rochester said with a sigh. “I would not be surprised if hardship drove some unfortunate souls to seek… an improper escape. If that is the case, perhaps it is best that she remembers nothing.”

  Lord Ashborne offered no comment and instead turned his attention to the purpose of his visit.

  “My lord, these are the expenses incurred since we established the school,” Father Rochester said, laying out a set of ledgers and receipts. He gestured to each as he spoke. “We hired Mr. Anderson as our primary instructor. He teaches in the larger classroom, which now occupies our dining hall.”

  “Ah, Mr. Anderson,” Lord Ashborne said with a nod. “I remember him well.”

  Mr. Anderson had once served as a valet - first to the Earl of Wexleigh, then to Lord Ashborne himself - until age finally persuaded him to retire. Lord Ashborne had granted him a generous pension, though it appeared the old man preferred usefulness over leisure.

  “Ten pupil teachers assist,” Father Rochester continued. “They received modest wages. At present, most expenses concern the construction of a proper classroom. Provided the weather holds, the work should be completed within three months, including the fireplace and hearth. All thanks to your generosity, my lord. It shines like a beacon.”

  “I see. Very sound arrangement,” Lord Ashborne said with a satisfied smile.

  The figures matched what he had observed at the construction site. Father Rochester had proven to be the right choice - honest, diligent, and sincerely invested in the welfare of the poor. A rare quality regrettably, among certain clergy elsewhere.

  Rochester tapped the final document. “Now, regarding Miss Jade.”

  It was her wage record - equal to that of the pupil teachers. Enough to live within the domus, but hardly sufficient for independence. A reasonable amount offered to an inexperienced schoolmistress.

  “Jade… Lysmere?” Lord Ashborne lifted a brow, “She had taken the river’s name as her surname?”

  “Everybody must have a surname for the records,” Father Rochester said with a shrug. “We offered ours, as we do for many orphans. I must say, choosing a river was rather clever of her.”

  Lord Ashborne rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he set the paper aside. “And her intentions? Has anyone come searching for her?”

  “No,” Father Rochester replied, shaking his head. “We spread word of her discovery. A few came seeking missing wives or daughters in the first days, but none matched her description. After that, no one returned. She wishes to remain here for a time - to adjust - before seeking work elsewhere. In exchange, she offers her service.”

  “She is no helpless damsel,” Lord Ashborne said, intrigued. “Quite the opposite of most young ladies I have encountered. Had they fallen into such circumstances, I suspect they would weep, cling to the nearest authority, and never question whether they were being aided or deceived.”

  “That is a harsh judgement, my lord,” Father Rochester said, frowning. “Men fare no better under such distress. The young gentleman we rescued months ago stands as proof.”

  “The young gentleman - ah,” Lord Ashborne said, suppressing a laugh. “Yes. Mr. Stanmoor did make your point rather convincingly.”

  The River Lysmere was broad and treacherous, prone to overturning boats when the wind rose. Ferries were the only safe means of crossing. Since Domus Lucis had been established in Wyrnfield parish, it had become the first sought when someone was pulled from the river.

  Jade - and Mr. Stanmoor - were neither the first nor the last souls Father Rochester would save.

  When the school affairs settled, Lord Ashborne took his leave and climbed into his carriage.

  “Father Rochester,” he said lightly through the window, “I find myself quite interested in Miss Jade’s next steps. It is oddly entertaining - like the beginning of a mystery novel. Might I trouble you to write to me when she makes her next move?”

  Father Rochester considered this, then shrugged. “I see no harm in it. I doubt Miss Jade would object to my sharing a few details of daily life with a correspondent.”

  “My thanks,” Lord Ashborne replied.

  As the carriage rolled away, none could see the thoughtful expression on his face as he drew out his pocket watch, his thumb idly brushing the glass.