Garfield procured a set of garments tailored to his proportions and preferences for the reasonable sum of one gold and three silver. With that amount, he acquired a plain white button-up shirt, a dark blue button-up pullover, trousers matching the same shade as the pullover, and polished black boots. To complete his new appearance, he donned a black ivy cap. He quickly assessed his reflection in the boutique's mirror.
He lightly tugged on the hem of his pullover, then cast his gaze downward at his boots before stretching out the crisp fabric of his white shirt.
"Looking sharp," Mr. Kenway remarked with a warm smile, standing behind the boutique's counter.
Garfield, who rarely received words of praise, allowed a faint smile to grace his face. He made his way toward the counter, preparing to pay the elderly merchant. As he retrieved the necessary coins from his pocket, he hesitated momentarily.
"What is it? Are you dissatisfied with the garments…? I could bring out others," Mr. Kenway asked, his tone laced with concern for his customer's satisfaction.
Garfield quickly waved both hands, shaking his head in dismissal.
"No, that's not it. Are you certain it's only one gold and three silver? This attire seems far more costly than that," he replied, his brow furrowed in unease.
"To be perfectly honest, it is more expensive than the price I quoted… though not for children. Were an adult to purchase the exact same ensemble, it would cost around two gold and four silver. But as you are still a child, the price is reduced."
Garfield paused, his eyes drifting over his attire. He could not shake the feeling that he was underpaying for something of such quality.
"Do not trouble yourself—your payment is the correct price for children's wear… Well, unless you were an adult attempting to pass as a child," Mr. Kenway jested, breaking into a hearty laugh.
Garfield gave a small nod, then withdrew the coins from the pocket of his new trousers and handed them over to the elderly man.
"Thank you, sir."
The man smiled kindly.
"No problem—go safely now," he replied.
With that, Garfield departed from Kenway's Boutique and made his way home. The brief journey deepened his understanding of the words spoken by the man who had once rescued the kitten. That man regarded all who hailed from the Middle District as kin, and Garfield could now see the truth of those words. The warmth and sincerity shown to him by Mr. Kenway transformed him from a boy who failed to grasp the man's meaning into one who could at least begin to understand it.
As the years passed, Veronica visited Garfield whenever Francis came to deliver remnants to the young boy. With each visit, the bond between brother and sister grew ever stronger. Garfield found himself wishing for her company more and more. After his training sessions, the two would converse for hours on end. For the first time in his life, Garfield had formed a true connection with another person, and for the first time, he realized he had grown to love someone.
Everything was going well—until, three years after his training began, Veronica's visits ceased abruptly. Garfield could not fathom why she had suddenly stopped coming, so he confronted Francis.
"Lord Damian has decided it would be best for both of you to stop seeing each other."
Garfield scowled, his anger evident, though unanswered questions still burned in his mind.
"But why?!"
"Lord Damian said it would be best if Veronica didn't distract you during your training and also…" Francis began, then faltered.
"Also, what?" Garfield pressed.
Francis averted his gaze, unable to bring himself to say what lingered on his tongue.
"Also what, Francis? Tell me!" Garfield demanded.
"Lord Damian said you are not to meet with any member of the Redgrave family until you prove yourself—not only to him, but to all the nobles."
A wave of sorrow washed over Garfield's face, quickly replaced by anger, and eventually a mixture of both. The one person he had grown to love had been torn from him, and he was powerless to stop it. He sat on his bed, gripping his hair before lowering his gaze to the floor.
Francis, feeling the weight of sympathy, began to approach to offer an apology—but halted when he saw the despair vanish from the boy's face. Garfield lifted his head, his eyes no longer clouded by grief, but ablaze with resolve.
"Before, I did this because I wanted a better life… but now it's different. I will do this so I can be accepted by my father."
The boy rose to his feet, clenched his fists, and declared with a confident smile:
"You have given me an incentive, Lord Damian, and I will use it as fuel to ignite my fire! I will grow stronger, and I will be accepted—count on it!"
Snap! Snap! Snap!
Amelia snapped her fingers, pulling Garfield from his reverie. They sat in the meeting hall, at the designated table for first-years.
"Are you listening?" she asked.
Garfield smiled faintly and nodded.
"Of course."
"Good. As I was saying, we should think of someone who could be our master," Amelia continued.
They pondered for several minutes, until Garfield spoke up.
"What about your brother? He has the means and could still train us."
Amelia shook her head in refusal.
"No, not my brother. He likely won't agree—he's usually busy, and I don't want to burden him."
"I doubt he'd see it as a burden. He might even enjoy spending more time with his sister," Garfield countered.
Amelia hesitated. Deep down, she knew her brother was their best option—and perhaps their only one. She considered Darren as well, but dismissed him almost immediately. Though capable as a trainer, he lacked the wealth required to serve as a proper master. After several moments of contemplation, she came to her decision.
"Alright, I'll ask my brother. But I'm still not certain he'll agree," she admitted.
"Don't worry—I'm sure he will," Garfield reassured her.