“Geography? Physics?” The girl’s smile returned.“Ah yes,” she said. “We don’t have them.”Lucian looked from the girl to the books. There was French and English. Music too. Etiquette and a book called Grace.“I see ... I guess we get those on computer?” he asked. “iPads, maybe?”She frowned, looking from Lucian to Harper, who shrugged.“No,” she said. “We, ehm, we don’t have those classes.”The boys already sat around the table in the small breakfast and lunch hall. They welcomed him with a lot of noise, calling him the Amazing Runner.News spread fast.There was a salad with crunchy bits, and a smoothie. There also was a lot of iced water – and pills. Dessert was fruit and yoghurt.And now they were here, he and Harper, sitting on a bench across the big lawn – digesting. On the grass were groups of girls, lazing or studying, talking and laughing. On a distant lane he saw a number of joggers again, ponytails dancing.“So you’ve been here for a while?” he asked the black-haired boy.Harper. The birds and animals knew, though, and she had learned to understand their speech, feeling herself surrounded by their sympathy and encouragement as she slowly made her way to winter in the far south, safe from the harsh winters of her own kingdom and where she might be able to survive without shelter for her nakedness.Once she had become inured to the changed conditions she now lived in, and in particular when her previously tender little feet had become toughened by walking over all manner of rugged surfaces, she had learned live by her own efforts. The discovery of her own self-sufficiency had given her great happiness - such as she had never felt before. The realisation that she did not need an army of servants to provide for her, but could look after herself was a source of great pride, if no great surprise, to a young lady who had never, in any case, had a low estimation of her abilities.One cause of sorrow was the absence of her childhood friend Martha, with whom she had.
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