Impressive, Miss Clearwater had said. Evander was very grateful merely to listen here, and take her word for it - he knew so little about children that age that he would accept her expertise, and feel relieved that Charity was such an exemplary child. He ought to have expected no less, really - Evelina had been accomplished in her youth, and had always been the more reasonable sibling, a safe middle ground between he and his brother. To be frank, most of what he heard about other children about his niece’s age were their explosive, inconvenient and often unsettling bouts of uncontrolled magic... so in comparison Charity seemed twice as accomplished.

And if she was reading the Iliad, well. (Though... was that not a little gory for a girl of her age? It was war, after all: he could not think of a book that contained more death.)

But as long as Miss Clearwater wasn’t faulting either of them for it, Evander was content to stand quietly and let the two of them converse. He was pleased that Charity thus far seem interested in books and learning at all - that was something they had in common. If she had already been at a stage where she talked of nothing but hair ribbons and fashion plates, he would truly have been in trouble.

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