Lavi takes to leaving the library door open: an invitation that has yet to be accepted by Allen or Kanda, but one that stands nonetheless. It allows him to hear the comings and goings of most of the house as well, thanks to the acoustics of the hallway, and this is how he knows that Allen's fiancée has arrived a few afternoons later.

Capitaine has already ushered them into the parlor by the time Lavi pokes his head around the doorway of the library. Convention dictates that he should wait to be summoned, but his curiosity has been building for days now, and it's too late to change his mind anyway by the time he strides into the room.

The first thing he sees is the plump old woman planted in a chair as if she grew there, hair as snow-white as Allen's knotted at the back of her neck. The girl on the settee is pretty, but bland: short chestnut curls on her forehead and tumbling down her back where they are gathered together, rosy cheeks, dark eyes.

"Oh—are you lost?" the girl asks him in French. "Are you working in the front gardens or the back?"

Lavi scratches his head and realizes that he doesn't even know where his coat is anymore as he looks down at his rumpled shirt and worn trousers. He laughs. "No, I don't believe I am lost at all; this is the parlor, right? I'm Lavi, er, Lavi . . . Bookman. A house guest of Mr. Walker. A pleasure to meet you; you must be Mademoiselle Bucher."

Lisette's eyes widen and the old woman is on her feet faster than Lavi thought possible, clucking her tongue—and channeling an indignant pigeon, from the looks of it—before Lisette can form a reply. "I'm sorry, Mr. Bookman, but it was forward of you to come in here without so much as an introduction."

"My apologies. I was eager to meet you both." Lavi grins and shrugs. "Don't mind me, I'll sit quite properly in the corner and behave myself until Allen gets here and we can proceed with the formalities, Madame."

The woman's shoulders relax minutely, and she nods grimly and sits back down, although she continues to exude waves of disapproval in his general direction. After a moment of studying him, her curiosity seems to get the better of her. "And did you grow up with Mr. Walker, then?"

Lavi takes a seat and hooks an arm over the back of his chair, buying himself a moment to think. "Er, in a way, yes. we went to . . . boarding school together. The three of us, that is." A wicked thought crosses his mind. "Perhaps Allen has spoken of Mr. Kanda?" He leans forward a bit. "He's a prince in his country, you know, but he's humble. He'd rather not have everyone know it." He has the feeling it will be known far and wide within days. "The Orient, yes, they like to send their most privileged children to England for a proper Western education. I should warn you that he failed to learn your fine language, I'm afraid."

"The English. Hardly a 'proper' education then," Mrs. Bucher mutters, and Lavi has to suppress a snicker. "Your French is . . . good enough," she concedes grudgingly.

His French is flawless, as a matter of fact, and he knows it, but just then Allen enters the room with Kanda a few steps behind him.

Allen smiles cautiously. "Oh. I see that you've already met Lavi."

"You must have some very attractive gardeners, Allen," Lavi says, and Lisette's cheeks go even ruddier while the grandmother looks horrified. Allen's nonplussed expression is comical. "I was telling Madame Bucher here about our days at boarding school together. Also about Kanda's princely heritage."

Kanda's brow furrows with suspicion at the sound of his name, and Allen closes his eyes and shakes his head. "Please excuse Lavi," he tells the Bucher ladies. "He suffered from a head injury in our, um, youth."

Lavi chuckles, amused. Kanda's reserved head incline is apparently a far more satisfactory greeting than Lavi's brazen entry, for he gets a smile from the grandmother. Then again, Lavi thinks dryly, Kanda is a prince now, whether he knows it or not.

Allen takes a seat next to Lisette on the settee. It occurs to Lavi that the space between them is more than mere propriety, but with Allen keeping his distance from everyone these days, it's hard to say. Kanda sits in the chair next to Lavi's.

The grandmother continues to glare at Lavi periodically while commenting on the weather and a slew of other mundane things. The rigid conversation of mixed company has never appealed to him, and he shifts in his seat, trying to look interested and only managing to memorize the number of concentric squares in the moulding on the wall behind the grandmother. Kanda's impatient fingers press Lavi's arm after several minutes, bringing his attention back.

"You'll pardon me," Lavi says, "if I translate for our dear prince. He's accustomed to being included in the conversation." He leans over to murmur in Kanda's ear. "You're not missing anything, trust me, Yuu." One corner of Kanda's mouth twitches at the name, but he lets his hand fall away from Lavi's arm.

Allen winces, fingers twisting together in his lap. "Perhaps we should speak English instead, then; I'm terribly sorry, Kanda."

"An opportunity for me to practice," Lisette says brightly. When she smiles her hand comes up to her mouth. Lavi can't tell if she is being shy or coquettish. "I like to speak it. It will be important when we travel, won't it, Allen?" The hand drops away from her face and reaches over for Allen's. "Mr. Bookman, you are . . . a scholar?"

Lavi decides at that moment, watching Allen's mannered smile, that he cannot bring himself to care much for Lisette. He resolves to try harder for Allen's sake. "Yes," Lavi says. "A scholar."

"My uncle left behind some rare texts," Allen explains. "Lavi will be studying them for . . . "

"For as long as it takes," Lavi interjects smoothly. "And Kanda has always wished to spend a season or two in the French countryside." Something relieved flits over Allen's face.

Madame Bucher sighs and presses a hand to her bosom. "My heart is troubling me today," she announces, her voice much louder in English. "It is one of the few ailments that French air cannot cure," she tells Kanda. Lavi can practically feel Kanda repressing a sigh of annoyance.

"I believe that Kanda and I were about retire to the library," Lavi says.

"We were?" Kanda mutters.

"Yes," Lavi says, standing and pulling Kanda to his feet. "I have a, um, Japanese text I need your help with. Quite urgent, as a matter of fact." He nods at Lisette and her grandmother.

"You and Lisette should take a stroll in the rose garden today," the grandmother informs Allen as they are leaving, and Lavi shakes his head as soon as they are in the hallway. Kanda follows him to the library and shuts the door behind them.

"And what did you think about that?" Lavi asks Kanda.

Kanda rolls his shoulders, then looks Lavi squarely in the eye. "That," he says, "was fucking obnoxious."

Lavi sighs. "Indeed it was."