The same thing went on for a week, with Manuela categorically refusing to acknowledge Elisabeth, and Elisabeth growing more and more frustrated with each passing day. Every time she asked the girl a question, the student would obediently stand up and answer without hesitation, but she would not spare her a single glance. Fräulein von Bernburg was conscious that her position as a teacher would absolutely grant her the right to scold Manuela for her openly disrespectful attitude. Yet, she knew all too well the reason behind the girl's behaviour, and she also knew she was responsible for it. This went beyond all considerations of a teacher's right to discipline their student. Despite her best efforts, she no longer considered Manuela a mere student and conversely, Manuela did not seem to fear her authority anymore. Their relationship had effectively shifted into something else she could not quite identify the nature of yet, but it was there, and she knew it would never go back to the way it was.

On a Saturday night, she decided to take matters into her own hands and asked that Manuela stayed behind after class. Seeing Kleist hover hesitatingly in the doorway as the others were leaving the room, she dismissed her with an impatient nod towards the door. "Thank you, Kleist, you may leave."

The girl did a quick curtsey and went straight to the door, shutting it behind her.

Manuela, now alone in the room with her teacher, stood awkwardly by the board with her head low.

"Are you planning on continuing this little game for long?" she asked sharply.

At the words, the girl lifted her head in alarm and fleetingly, their eyes met before she lowered her head again dramatically. "A game, Fräulein von Bernburg? I'm not playing games."

Elisabeth wanted to be angry at Manuela, but she found her almost comical resolve all too endearing. Slowly, she cupped the girl's face in her hands, hoping it would be enough to make her look her way. Again, the stubborn girl went out of her way to avoid eye contact, this time fixing the ceiling as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world.

"Manuela…" the teacher coaxed in a soft whisper. She could feel Manuela's determination slowly crumble as the girl inhaled and closed her eyes forcefully.

Elisabeth felt her strong jaw clench under her fingertips and she started caressing the soft skin of Manuela's chin with her thumb softly, almost curiously. Deep down, of course, she knew she was not playing fair and her touch was on the verge of inappropriate, but she felt a pull towards Manuela, something primal and instinctive making her unable to take a step back.

"Manuela, look at me," she urged again, her voice only a whisper.

"No," the student choked, and the teacher could see tears forming from under her closed eyelids.

"Please."

Finally, Manuela opened her eyes and for the first time in days, allowed their gazes to meet. Elisabeth let go of the breath she had not realised she was holding and smiled sincerely at the girl in front of her, still caressing her jaw and cheeks gently. Without a word, she wiped the frustrated tears away.

"I know you are upset that I slapped you. You have every right to be…," she admitted. Then, with a sigh, she added, "I am deeply sorry that I hurt you like this."

Manuela seemed to think for a moment. "I deserved the correction. If anything, I should be the one asking for forgiveness, for what I did to you. I understand it now. I promise this will never happen again," she finally said with disconcerting calm.

An unexpected sadness washed over Elisabeth upon hearing the words, although she should have felt relieved. Manuela was finally coming to her senses and now, she was the one being unreasonable. Trying to hide her disappointment, Elisabeth let go of the girl's face and attempted to smile.

"Good, Manuela. Good. You must understand that it is not right for you to expect… such things from me. I am glad you are finally coming to terms with that." Liar, she thought to herself. "You have to stop this nonsense. You need to focus on what is really important; learning, obeying and nothing else. Remember that you will not be here forever. You may be upset now, but in a year or so, you will be gone and none of this will matter to you any longer," she said, motioning vaguely at the room, or maybe at the space between them.

Although the teacher had tried to sound as convincing as possible, her heart was bursting in pieces at the very idea Manuela would, indeed, come to forget about her. The girl, however, wanted to shout, to throw herself at the other woman's feet and assure her that she would never let her slip from her memory, not in a million years. But instead, she clutched her fists and gave a constrained nod of acknowledgement.

"Go now."

Without another word, Manuela turned on her heels and left the teacher alone, none of them aware of how terribly the other was hurting at this very moment.

/

"So… What did Fraülein von Bernburg want to talk about?" asked Kleist during dinner. She had tried to contain her curiosity, but enough was enough.

"Nothing," the chestnut-haired girl replied automatically.

Huffing in exasperation, Yvette tugged Manuela closer. "I thought we were best friends, Manuela. You never tell me anything," she hissed.

Manuela threw a quick look around to make sure no one else was listening and nodded in a silent concession. Yvette deserved to know, and most importantly, she wanted to tell her.

"She just said… that I shouldn't expect anything from her…" Already, she could feel her cheeks burn in embarrassment as she saw Yvette's air of confusion.

"What exactly did she think you were expecting?" she asked with a perplexed frown.

Manuela took a deep breath and, bringing her voice to an even lower level, she admitted her misconduct.

"I tried to kiss her last week."

There was a beat, a split second of incomprehension. Then, as the significance of her friend's admission dawned on her, Kleist slapped a hand over her mouth in shock.

"Oh Manuela, no."

"Yes, yes. I know," Manuela muttered angrily as her cheeks turned an even darker shade of red. "You cannot tell anyone. I'm serious, Yvette."

Still overwhelmed by what she had just heard, Kleist shook her head vigorously. "Of course, you can trust me."

"Thank you," the other girl mumbled.

"But… I have to know. How did it all happen?"

"It doesn't matter. I was stupid and she rejected me. Of course, she did. How could she feel anything for me?"

Yvette placed a comforting hand on her friend's back. "Fräulein von Bernburg loves you very much, Manuela. Why would you think any other way?" she asked with a concerned frown.

"But don't you see? She loves me as she loves anyone here, in the same way that she loves you, or Westhagen, or Rackow. But I? I am in love with her!" Manuela almost shouted, slamming her hand on the table. Some girls around stopped their conversations and turned to her in alarm.

"Manuela!" Yvette scolded and sent a quick smile at her classmates to reassure them, before grabbing the other girl by the arm.

"Come on, let's walk to the dormitory together."

They strolled in silence through the corridors with their arms linked, both unsure of how to approach the other. Finally, Manuela took the first step as she stopped walking and forced Yvette to turn towards her in the same movement.

"I am sorry for snapping at you."

"Don't worry about it," her friend dismissed with a wave of her hand. "As for the rest… I don't really know what to say. But deep down, I think you know Fräulein von Bernburg only wants what is best for you."

Sighing audibly, Manuela had to concede that her friend was right. She also wanted the best for Fräulein von Bernburg and pursuing her, whether she returned her feelings or not, would only cause her trouble. But it did not hurt any less.