Melantriche woke startled. For a split second she thought she'd been tumbling from the sky, but now she was caught within the tangles of a fishing net.

...wait, no. It wasn't a net, but a blanket. And there was no fisherman staring down at her, but Lyra. She was fuzzy at first, and not easily seen without the sun to clarify her features. She was inches close to Melantriche's face, studying her with bewilderment and concern in her eyes. It took a moment for Melantriche to process the presence of another person being so close to her, and then she jerked in surprise.

"L-Lyra?!"

"You're naked." The woman commented in an as-a-matter-of-fact voice. "You were talking in your sleep, too."

Melantriche blinked. "You watched me as I slept?"

"Only for a little while." Lyra flushed and sat back on the stool she'd set at the edge of the bed. "I was worried, you see."

"What for?"

Lyra stood up and turned away as she went to fetch a new chiton for Melantriche to wear. She said nothing for a brief moment before saying, "No reason."

There was hesitation in her words, Melantriche knew. She aches to get the truth out of her, but not now. It was too early in the morning to prod now. She fell back into the sheets, mumbling nothing in particular. Lyra returned shortly from the back of the room with a long white robe in hand.

"But what about you?" Lyra inquires teasingly. "Hm, Lady? You went to bed without clothes? You know I heard from someone that that handsome Lord Belenis escorted you to your quarters last night."

Melantriche pulled the covers over her shoulders and flushed. "What are you insinuating, Lyra?"

"Oh, nothing." She giggled, gently pulling back the sheets, and out popped Melantriche's pretty red face, scowling. "Forgive me, Lady. I was only teasing."

"Yes, I'm sure." Melantriche grumbled as she crawled out of bed. She stretched and ignored the incoming chill from suddenly being out from underneath warm layers. Mornings in Athens were chilly, especially now that the summer season was almost over. And now that she was actually processing her surroundings, she saw that it didn't look like morning at all. There was hardly any sun outside, for thick masses of gray cloud were obscuring it. Verily, it looked ready to storm soon. Melantriche stared at the outside through the tiny window. Hopefully it wasn't because Lord Apollo was angered. The laundry would most likely not get done today. Lazily, she held up her arms and waited for Lyra to slip the robe around her. With a few twists and pins the robe was magically wrapped into a chiton. Melantriche rubbed her bare arms, but she didn't ask for a wrap, the wraps were too flashy and Melantriche enjoyed being dressed in simple things, so that they wouldn't hinder her weaving. Mother would disapprove, as always, but Melantriche no longer cared to listen to her when it came to what you should wear and what you shouldn't wear. After all, who would be around to appreciate her when dressed in finery? The slaves?

"But, if I may ask, why didn't you put on your nightclothes?"

"I just didn't feel like it." Melantriche yawned, "I was tired and it was a long day."

"Oh, I see." Lyra stood up and wiped some sweat from her brow, though what she was sweating for at this hour, Melantriche had no idea. "But nakedness besides, shall we go down to meet the others?"

Melantriche nodded. Tapestries weren't going to weave themselves.

Breakfast was simple: Some freshly baked pita bread dipped in watered wine and honey. In the gynaeceum, everything seemed so mundane yet pleasant. The women of the house, both free and slave, seemed equal here. They gossiped and joked as they spun wool and wove fine cloth as little children ran around squealing with excitement in their games. In the gynaeceum, nothing ever seemed troubling. It was peaceful, simple, and Melantriche liked it that way. Today, however, was different. When Lyra and Melantriche walked through the door, the usual buzz suddenly hushed, as if a great wind had interrupted it the way it interrupted the wheat sheaves in the fields. Everyone in the room, save for most of the children, stared at their young Lady with great anticipation, or it may have been anxiousness. Whatever it was, Melantriche didn't take kindly to it. She shivered in her chiton as she felt the eyes of many on her. What in the..?

Lyra coughed loudly, and the tension snapped just like that. The women resumed their work and Melantriche could finally breathe easily. Well, almost easily. When she stared up at Lyra, she saw a flash of nervousness in her eyes, which made her all the more suspicious. In a moment she'd ask her what all the hullabaloo was about, but for now she scanned the room, searching for her loom. She found it set leaning against the far wall corner, right beside a clear space on a sofa. Perfect. Melantriche poked Lyra and pointed to the spot.

"We'll sit there." Lyra nodded in agreement and so they went to settle down there. Melantriche set the loom in front of her. The tapestry was still set in it just as it was the day before yesterday. A spindle of red wool thread was stuck to its side. Melantriche pulled it out carefully and asked Lyra for a blue one. As she put in onto the spindle, she scanned the room once again. A frown crossed her face.

"Lyra, where's my mother?"

Lyra was also working on her own needlework, another patch of white wool for one of the new babies coming in. Today it seemed a little messy, which was strange, seeing as though Lyra was no fool when it came to making clothes.

"Oh, the Mistress? She's..." Lyra paused, as if to try and find the right word. "She's not feeling well today, so she is staying in bed."

Melantriche stared. Mother, ill? She'd never been ill before. At least, never ill enough to not be able to supervise the servants. A feeling of foreboding filled her.

"You didn't tell me she was ill."

"Forgive me. I forgot to say so."

"I should go visit her, then."

"I don't think you should."

Annoyance welled within Melantriche. Lyra was being abnormally prone to equivocating today. Not to mention everyone else's strange behavior. What was she hiding? "Why shouldn't I? She's my mother."

"Oh, don't misread me, Lady. It's just that she doesn't want anyone to visit her right now. She said so herself."

"To you?"

"To all of us. She gave us that announcement early this morning and left. I tell you, though, it was odd."

That certainly was odd. Melantriche mulled this over as she straightened out her thread, and the thoughts of her mother's attitude from the previous night lit up within her. Surely...

"Has this anything to do with last night?"

Lyra's hands stopped working for a split second. "Last night? What about last night?"

"I heard something happening downstairs last night. You were down in the kitchen, so I know that you know what happened. Was it an argument?"

A long pause. Lyra took out her messed up threads before replacing them with new ones. "No, Lady. It wasn't an argument."

"Tell me then." Melantriche pressed, scooting closer. She was going to get the truth out of Lyra whether she liked it or not. "I want to know about it."

"There was a break-in, you see. They didn't find any perpetrators, but one of the walls had been smashed through. Some of our ingredients we were saving for the feast were gone. You mother, the Mistress Leida, she had much to drink, and when she found there was a hole she swooned. And I became worried because we saw that you weren't at the feast, so..."

"That's why you were watching me this morning?"

"Yes."

"And that's why everyone acted strangely when they saw me?"

"Yes."

Melantriche processed all of this. A break-in? The walls of Greek houses weren't very strong, so the thieves could've gotten in relatively easy if they found the right spot to smash. But that also made no sense because the moon had been shining very bright then. It would've made things very hard for the thieves, and even more impossible considering that the house was far from empty. Perhaps they'd been trying to perpetrate their misdeeds while everyone was busy? It was strange, hardly made any sense, but Lyra never told a lie, and she seemed very sincere about it, so...

Melantriche shook her head. She was probably overthinking all of this. But she still wasn't at all convinced. If Lyra didn't want to be pressed any longer, then fine. But she would find out sooner or later what all of this was about.

Lyra quickly changed the subject before Melantriche could. "But enough of that. You were talking in your sleep this morning, you know."

Oh, that was right. Her dream. But she didn't remember having a dream at all.

"What was I saying?"

"I don't know. You were muffling your words. But it sounded scary. Was it a nightmare?"

Melantriche wracked her brain to remember. She couldn't recall anything, except for the fact that she'd woken very suddenly. And before that...

"I don't remember."