"You are telling me not to do something. That is all Julian ever does."
The observation was direct, without hesitation. Eleanor held her gaze for a moment, then allowed it to soften just slightly. She knew how it felt to have Julian tell her no over and over, and it was no surprise to her that Lily disliked it just as much.
"I am only thinking," she said.
"About what?"
"Nothing that concerns you. You have done nothing wrong, I am simply not feeling well."
"Then will you read to me when you feel better?"
"Of course."
Lily accepted that, though not entirely, her attention lingering on Eleanor as though she were trying to understand something that did not quite make sense to her.
Eleanor hesitated again. She did not want to withdraw completely. That was not what she intended, but she could not step into that role as easily anymore, and could not allow herself to fill a space that had not been offered to her.
Eleanor returned her gaze to the book, though she did not open it immediately, her thoughts more aware now of the distance she was trying to maintain and how easily it was misunderstood.
Beside her, Lily sat a little more quietly than before, and for the first time since Eleanor had arrived at the estate, the space between them did not feel effortless.
They remained side by side on the bench, not entirely uncomfortable, but it was undeniably different. Lily did not usually sit still for so long, and under any other circumstance she would have filled the space between them without hesitation, saying whatever came to mind, asking questions or inventing stories. Now she seemed to be holding something back.
Eleanor was aware of the shift, aware of the way something that had once required no thought now demanded careful attention. She had wanted distance and had chosen it deliberately, yet she had not expected it to feel so awful.
"Eleanor," Lily said at last, her voice quieter than before.
Eleanor looked at her immediately and answered gently,
"Yes?"
Lily hesitated, her fingers twisting together in her lap before she spoke again.
"Did I do something wrong?"
The question landed softly, but it struck far deeper than it should have. Eleanor felt a sharp guilt rise before she could temper it, and she answered too quickly at first, the words almost overlapping.
"No, no, not at all, Lily, you have done nothing wrong." She steadied her tone as she continued, making sure the reassurance carried properly. "Nothing at all. You must not think that."
Lily studied her, still uncertain, her gaze searching Eleanor’s face as though trying to find the truth.
"You are different," she said again, not accusing, only confused. "I thought maybe I had made you cross."
Eleanor closed the book and set it aside, giving her full attention, unwilling to let even the smallest doubt remain.
"You have not upset me," she said, more carefully this time. "If I seem quiet, it is only because I am thinking. It has nothing to do with you."
Lily considered that, not entirely convinced but willing to accept it for now.
"Then what are you thinking about that is so demanding?"
Eleanor paused, knowing she could not answer that truthfully without placing something far too heavy on a child who had done nothing to deserve it. She softened her voice instead, shaping something simpler, something kinder.
"I am only a little tired today," she said. "That is all. You need not worry about it."
"But I do worry. You are my friend, and sometimes… sometimes it feels as though you are family, too."
Eleanor felt her throat tighten at that, for it was what she had begun to think too. Lily watched her for a moment longer, then gave a small nod, the tension in her easing slightly as she accepted the explanation.