Chapter 259: Chapter 259- Patience

The next morning, soft light filtered into the room, illuminating a scene of controlled chaos.

Julian stood still, patiently allowing Clarissa to attempt taming his straight, stubborn hair. Despite her best efforts with a brush, sections of it would inevitably fall back into their natural, slightly unruly state. "I’m sorry, Julian," she murmured with a warm, apologetic smile. "It just wants to do its own thing."

Next to them, Zoe sat perfectly still on a stool while Celestia, her expression as cool and impassive as ever, worked on her hair with a comb. "You are too pampered, Zoe," Celestia stated, her voice devoid of any warmth, though her hands were surprisingly gentle.

Zoe didn’t protest or even speak. She simply let out a soft, contented hum, "Hmm~," and leaned slightly into the soothing motion of the comb.

Across the room, Emma was hopping on one foot as she pulled up her trousers. "Well, maybe Zoe just never learned to do it herself because she’s always had someone to take care of her," she chimed in cheerfully.

Veronica, who was fastening her bra with sharp, efficient movements, scoffed. "That’s exactly the problem. We can’t let her depend on others forever. We need to be stricter."

Emma giggled, shooting Veronica a teasing look. "Sounds like someone’s jealous they aren’t being pampered."

"That is not it at all!" Veronica retorted, her cheeks flushing slightly with indignation.

Celestia, finishing with Zoe’s hair, gave a final, definitive nod. "Veronica’s point, however, is valid. Zoe, you must learn to be more self-sufficient starting today."

Zoe responded with a flat, noncommittal nod, her expression unchanging.

Aya, who was still pulling on her underwear, her face tinged pink with her usual shyness, spoke up softly. "I-I think we should take it slowly. If we push her too hard all at once, she probably won’t be able to manage any of it." Her voice was hesitant but caring.

Clarissa finally gave up on Julian’s hair with a soft sigh, letting it fall back into its natural state. She placed a gentle hand on Aya’s shoulder. "Aya has a point. Patience is key."

At Celestia’s command for self-sufficiency, Zoe had simply blinked, her expression as unreadable as ever. She stood up from the stool and picked up her wrinkled shirt, holding it out to Celestia in a silent, expectant gesture.

Celestia’s icy composure didn’t crack, but a single, perfectly sculpted eyebrow arched upwards. "No."

Veronica crossed her arms, a triumphant smirk on her face. "Good. She needs to learn."

Zoe stared at Celestia for a long moment, then at Veronica, before letting her arm drop. She then attempted to put the shirt on herself, managing to get her arms into the sleeves but failing miserably with the buttons, her fingers fumbling clumsily.

Aya, now fully dressed, watched with nervous eyes. "S-see? It’s harder than it looks for her."

Emma giggled, "She looks like a confused puppy! It’s kind of adorable."

"Don’t encourage her, Emma," Veronica scolded, though she made no move to help either, believing in the tough love approach.

It was Clarissa who finally stepped in. With a warm, patient smile, she gently guided Zoe’s hands. "Here, like this, Zoe. One button at a time. You can do it." Under Clarissa’s tutelage, Zoe managed to fasten two buttons before her interest seemed to wane.

Julian, now fully dressed and looking on with his usual detached expression, finally spoke, his voice cutting through the minor drama. "Her combat instincts are flawless. Her spatial awareness is better than any of ours." He looked directly at Celestia and Veronica. "It’s not a lack of capability. It’s a choice. She prioritizes what she deems important. Everything else is... background noise."

Zoe, having given up on the buttons, simply left her shirt half-open and reached for her boots.

Celestia considered Julian’s words, her cold gaze softening a fraction as she watched Zoe. "A flawed priority system, then. But one we must correct."

"Maybe we just need to find her motivation," Emma suggested cheerfully. "Like, if we tell her she can’t have pudding until she dresses herself!"

Veronica rolled her eyes. "Don’t be ridiculous."

As the others continued to debate, Aya quietly moved to stand beside Julian, her shoulder almost touching his. "You... you understand her quite well," she murmured, her voice soft.

Julian glanced down at her. "I observe. It’s what I do." His tone was neutral, but the way his gaze lingered on her for a second longer than necessary sent a familiar warmth to Aya’s cheeks.

The moment was broken by Zoe, who, having managed to put one boot on the wrong foot, stood up and took a step, only to stumble directly into Veronica.

"Oof! Watch it, you clumsy—!" Veronica caught her, irritation flashing across her face before turning into exasperated resignation. She steadied Zoe, then, with a long-suffering sigh, knelt down and began fixing her boots.

"Honestly," Veronica muttered, "it’s like babysitting a gifted but utterly helpless child."

Zoe, now stable, placed a hand on top of Veronica’s head, a rare, almost imperceptible hint of something resembling gratitude in her eyes. Veronica froze for a second, a faint pink dusting her own cheeks before she swatted Zoe’s hand away. "D-don’t touch my hair!"

From the doorway, Clarissa smiled softly. "See? We all take care of each other in our own ways."

Julian let out a quiet "yea," the closest he would get to agreement, before turning towards the door. "Let’s go. We’re wasting daylight."

They found Miss Beatrix waiting for them, her posture rigid and her arms crossed tightly over her chest. The tap of her foot on the floor was the only sound that greeted them.

"You’re late," she stated, her voice flat and laced with a deep, weary disappointment that only a former teacher could muster.

Clarissa immediately stepped forward, offering a graceful, apologetic bow. "We’re so sorry, Miss Beatrix."

Celestia, offered a crisp, factual explanation. "Our departure was slightly delayed due to an incident involving a certain individual." Her sharp, icy gaze slid pointedly towards Julian, a clear indictment.

Julian, completely unfazed, met her stare and then looked back at Beatrix with a shrug. "There’s no harm in waiting a little while."

Beatrix’s eye twitched. She let out a long, slow breath, the sound of a woman clinging to the last shreds of her patience. "I have been standing here for thirty minutes. Thirty. And you say there’s no harm in waiting?" She pinched the bridge of her nose, a familiar gesture of someone battling a headache. "It seems the concept of discipline has completely evaporated from your minds."

"Now, now, Miss Beatrix," Emma chirped, stepping in with her signature sunny disposition, trying to defuse the tension. "Let’s not make a big fuss. The more we talk about it, the later we’ll be! So, let’s just get going, okay?"

Julian nodded, already turning towards the main doors. "She’s right. There’s no point in dragging this out any longer."

A low, incredulous mutter escaped Beatrix’s lips as she watched Julian lead the way, the very picture of unapologetic calm.

"You’re the one who dragged it out in the first place..."