The room was modest, to say the least, and it carried the weight of her struggles. The shelves were filled with second-hand books, their spines cracked and faded, some with missing pages that had been hastily replaced or mended. He remembered how Amberine would negotiate with her seniors, charming them into parting with their old textbooks, saving her the need to buy new ones. It wasn't out of laziness or a lack of desire to learn—no, it was out of necessity. She simply didn't have the money.