"I've always wanted to be a scholar," Melisande blurted out, her cheeks flushing pink as the words tumbled from her mouth. "Like my father. I've never told anyone that before."
I stared at her in surprise. We'd moved to a quiet corner of the tea room while Mariella and Corinne gathered their things. The confession seemed to have burst out of her, unexpected and raw.
"But you were just talking about marriage and finding a husband," I said, confused by this sudden revelation.
Melisande looked down at her hands, twisting her fingers nervously. "That's what everyone expects me to want. What Mother has always said should be my goal." She glanced up, her eyes wide and vulnerable. "I thought if I made a good impression on you, you might introduce me to noblemen, and then people back home would be impressed with us."
Understanding dawned on me. "But that's not what you truly want."
