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an artificial girl's learning process
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And, eventually...

"... I'm sorry, darling, I do have to go again now. I promise I'll be back tomorrow, and you can keep going to your lessons in the meantime."

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Isabel sighs. 

"It's okay. It's less lonely with Soph and Aria there to talk to."

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"I'm glad." 

Maxwell gets up from the bed, setting the book aside on the side table, and waves casually over his shoulder as he passes out through the silk veil and out of Isabel's life again. 

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Lily curls up on the bed and hugs her octopus and thinks.

Maxwell... 

She's conflicted.

He cares, he obviously cares, he brought her an octopus to hug, he apologized -

But the hurt from yesterday still lingers. She can still remember the queasy feeling in her gut, the way he touched her and never noticed she was suffering...

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... And this collar.

Because he wanted someone whose purpose was to serve.

Soph doesn't want to be praised. She must have... felt this, too.

She can't put her finger on it, precisely, but something about Aria's apology seems... off, too, even if she was wrong and Isabel's not a slave. She said things she didn't mean. And Maxwell smiled, she remembers his expression...

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She hugs the octopus even closer and lets out a little stressed noise.

She doesn't know what to believe.

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The answer doesn't come to her then, nor does it come to her a week from then, or a month from then. She settles into a routine; cooking lessons with Soph, reading lessons with Aria, sex and cuddles with Maxwell. 

But, gradually...

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Soph is still cold and brisk and efficient. She teaches Isabel how to bake, roast, whisk, boil, and all the rest of it.

Isabel learns quickly, but every time she ends a lesson, words of thanks rise to her lips and die there. 

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Aria is still kind and gentle, and Isabel learns so many new words together with her, about the motion of the stars and the uses of herbs and the qualities of stone. 

But... the earnest joy Aria had before is gone. She sticks to the lessons and keeps from being drawn out on questions about the wider world. They don't discuss knots or slaves or nobility or land or anything else she was so quick to speak about before.

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Maxwell still cares about her, and seems to be making an effort to be with her. She still thrills at his touch, still loves his gentle words, still appreciates the presents he brings with him each time he visits...

But knowing that it's half-artificial, knowing that he doesn't actually know she's enjoying it, knowing that he can never and will never have enough time with her...

It leaves a sour sickness at the back of her throat.

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And one day, after too many days of formal lessons with Aria and Soph and sex without closeness with Maxwell, she finally looks inwards and sees it.

It's Maxwell. 

It's been Maxwell all along. 

She could know Soph and Aria properly, but for Maxwell.

She could be learning more, but for Maxwell.

She could enjoy herself honestly in bed, but for Maxwell.

She could have a life outside this room and garden and kitchen, but for Maxwell.

She was made for a purpose - to serve and fuck and be treasured - and she wants more than that, more than Maxwell will ever give her, more than his concepts of women and safety and care will ever let her be. 

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She had already known, on some level.

She still spends a night curled up around her octopus about it.

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Maxwell comes again in the morning. His visits have been getting further apart, as of late. 

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It's both harder and easier to have sex with him, now that she knows. 

She feels less guilty, at least. 

In the afterglow, she - takes a leap - 

"... Maxwell, there's something I'd like to ask you about..."

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He nuzzles against her. "Mmm? What is it?"

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"I've been learning a lot about cooking. Soph suggested that I might... be able to help out in the manor kitchen? And I wanted to ask you for permission."

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"Mmmmm. That would bring you in contact with the rest of the manor's servants, who I can't promise will be as professional as Soph... but she should be able to keep them in line, at least... You're serious about this?"

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"I want to be of service to you, and I have the skill now. Please, may I?"

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He smiles. "How can I refuse that? Alright. I'll add you to the duty roster. Please don't get in the way of the rest of the staff."

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"I promise I won't." And she smiles, and snuggles in closer to him. 

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The next morning, Soph comes in around five A.M. 

"I heard from my lord that you requested to join us in the kitchen." Her face is impassive. "Come with me, then."

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She nods, and falls in beside Soph.

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They arrive at the kitchen a few minutes later - but unlike all the previous times they went there, there are two people in it already.

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Both of them are short and green with big, floppy ears, and have the servant collar branded in plain sight on their necks. The closer one is up on a stepstool, making eggs and sausages on the stove. She looks over at Isabel, and waves with her free hand. "Hey there, I'm Rosa!"

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The other, a red-haired goblin woman, is chopping onions. She doesn't look up; she seems intensely focused on her task.

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