Louis slipped quickly through the office doors, ducking his head low enough to keep himself hidden from any supervisors that might be lurking about. He was supposed to be heading toward the cafeteria for lunch, but how decent was lunch when you sat by yourself eating the goop that was served daily? He made his way through the maze of cubicles, hoping he didn't look too much like a hunchback as he passed the openings and small glass windows.

He had really been expecting more from this job, though he'd known his expectations were wild and probably ridiculous. After spending two years exploring the world, being contained to a few floors of the Ministry felt like prison, even if he was learning about the proper rules and regulations that came along with dealing with other countries. Louis had always been one to get off on his brains and charm, but here there was structure. It'd only been a week and he was already beginning to feel as if they'd locked shackles around his ankles.

Finally, he reached his destination and jumped into Adian Rosenberg's cubicle, "Lunch? Can you go to lunch now?"

Louis looked over the parchment sprawled across his friend's desk and muttered, "Yes, lunch should happen now."

It was a strange feeling, having to keep off your feet. Especially when being on your feet was what you did for a living. Estella's bones had settled, but because of the strange break the healers had recommended she keep her foot elevated and to not put much pressure on it for the next few days. The potions were working, but they had to work slowly to make sure everything was completely back together.

She winced as she wiggled her toes, the only part of her foot visible from the end of her pink cast. She felt silly for finding herself in this predicament and wanted to have someone to blame other than herself, but it really was only her fault. She had let one of the older students take on a class, and while trying to not so subtly watch the girl like a hawk, she'd stumbled mid pirouette and had gotten caught up in a nearby stool.

Estella let out a sigh of frustration and dropped her head back into the arm of the couch she was currently sprawled across. Her mother had graciously taken the children off her hands, Adamina had full control of the studio, and Caden was being a wonderful husband and running some errands. The house was a beautiful, eerie silent that any working mother would be grateful for.

It had only been twelve hours and she was miserable. Estella put a pillow over her face and let out a whine. This was torture!