Selah’s POV
When Mira arrived for our lesson the next morning, carrying a wooden tray with tea and fresh parchment, I sat down across from her at the low table near the window.
It was only as I pulled my chair forward that I realized just how long it had actually been since our last session.
Between the wall breach, the growing unrest with the council, my sudden move into Garrick’s quarters and that woman’s vicious attack, the days in between had been swallowed up.
It felt like a lifetime ago that I had been sitting in my old room, struggling to remember the basic hand shapes for simple things.
So much blood had been spilled since then.
Mira didn’t comment on anything that had happened lately, thank the Goddess.
She simply set the tray down, smoothed her dark skirt, and picked up more or less right where we had left off.
“Let us see what you have kept in that head of yours,” Mira said in her measured voice, settling into the chair across from me.
“Before we try anything new, show me what you remember from our last drill.”
I nodded, placing my hands on the table.
She began testing me on the basics, calling out words one by one.
WATER.
I brought my hand up, curling three fingers to my chin.
FOOD.
I flattened my fingers and tapped my lips twice.
YES.
NO.
STOP.
I got through the basic signs much faster than either of us expected.
My fingers moved with a smooth, fluid ease that surprised even me.
The muscle memory was returning quicker than I would have guessed, as if my hands had been waiting for the chance to speak even while my tongue remained uselessly silent.
Mira watched my fingers intently, a small nod of approval accompanying each correct movement.
“Very good. Your hands are flexible, Selah. That is a rare gift for someone starting so late.”
She tapped her knuckles against the wood, her dark eyes sharpening.
“Now, we push further today. Single words will keep you fed, but they will not keep you informed. You need to know how to string together a real thought instead of just gesturing at fragments and hoping people are smart enough to guess what you mean.”
She raised her own hands, demonstrating a series of short movements.
“We are going to form full, short sentences now.”
It sounded simple enough, but the moment we started, the rhythm I had built up fell apart.
It was slow and frustrating work.
My hands could get the individual signs right, but the order kept getting jumbled in my head.
I would sign WATER before WANT, or DANGER after GUARD, turning what should have been a clear warning into a confusing pile of hand movements.
And even when I managed to get the order right, my timing was so painfully slow that anyone watching me would have lost patience before I even finished the second word.
In an actual conversation, or in a fast-moving room full of angry guards, being this slow made the signs useless.
I huffed, letting my hands drop onto the wooden table with a sharp slap.
My fingers felt stiff and stupid.
“No, child,” Mira said gently, reaching across the table to physically adjust my left wrist.
“You are putting the action after the subject. Flip them. Watch my hands again. I NEED FOOD. Not FOOD NEED I. Try it again.”
I took a deep breath, lifted my hands, and tried the motion again, keeping my movements deliberate.
“Better,” Mira said.
“Again.”
Partway through our third attempt at forming a sentence about the weather, the door to the room creaked open.
Vera let herself in without knocking, as always, carrying a folded pile of fresh linens in her arms.
Usually, Mira would have given her a stern look and sent her right back out into the hallway so we could focus on the lesson.
But instead of dismissing her this time, Mira paused and looked at the younger maid with a thoughtful expression.
“Put those down, Vera,” Mira instructed, gesturing toward the side table.
Vera set the linens down quickly.
“No, stay,” Mira said, a faint glint of amusement in her eyes.
“In fact, you can help us. Selah is struggling with timing because she is only looking at me. She needs to practice communicating with someone in real time, rather than just doing drills with a teacher.”
Vera’s face lit up instantly.
She took to the idea with far more enthusiasm than the exercise probably called for, hurrying over to the table and pulling out a chair to sit beside Mira.
“Oh, this will be fun!” She declared, clapping her hands together.
“What do I do?”
“You sit there and react to what she signs,” Mira explained calmly.
“If she gets the order wrong, do not pretend you understand. Make her fix it.”
“Understood!” Vera grinned, leaning her elbows on the table and staring right at me.
“Alright, Lady Selah. Tell me something!”
I rolled my eyes at her eagerness, but I raised my hands anyway.
I carefully put together three signs, trying to ask her if she could bring more ink for my notepad.
Vera tilted her head, exaggerating her confusion on purpose.
She scrunched up her nose, widened her eyes, and scratched her chin like a confused puppy.
“Wait… you want me to write on a jug of water? Is that what you just said?”
I glared at her, letting out a sharp puff of air through my nose.
I lowered my hands, reset my posture, and made the signs again—slower this time, exaggerating the hand shape for INK.
“Ah!” Vera gasped loudly, clutching her hands over her chest as if she had just solved a grand mystery.
“Ink! You want ink! See? I knew we’d get there eventually!” She let out a bright, ringing laugh, clearly enjoying the fact that she was making me repeat the signs over and over again just for the fun of it.
I scowled at her and lifted my hand to make a quick, sharp sign for ANNOYING that Mira hadn’t even taught me yet, but my meaning was clear enough.
Vera just laughed harder, leaning back in her chair.
“Hey, I’m just doing what Mira told me to do. You have to be fast if you want to talk to people around here, Lady Selah. Nobody in this mansion stands still for long.”
“She is right, even if she is being loud about it,” Mira interjected smoothly, though the corner of her mouth twitched slightly.
“Again, Selah. From the top. Tell her you need a candle for the desk.”
I took another breath, forcing the annoyance out of my shoulders, and lifted my hands once more to speak.