The power of the void is a potent thing. The magic of the Founder Brimir, once thought lost to time. One shard for each of the four nations that were created after his passing. One that snaked its way through each nation's royal lineages, and their offshoots. But what would happen if the lineage of the Void ran true? What would happen if instead of a girl with pink hair who called forth a familiar, but rather one with purple?
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Royal Zero (Familiar of Zero AU/SI)
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Chapter 1
Thanks to the people over at the Familiar of Zero Recs and Idea thread, I've gotten a decent grasp on what I want to do. Still working my way through the light Novels at the moment, as the anime gets the Ba Sing Sa treatment in Japan. But I shouldn't be running into an overwhelming majority of them for the first chapter.
I mean, I say that, but Henrietta being a void mage changes a lot of things when it comes down to the plot.
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Kirche scowled. Her and her big mouth. Why did she have to make a bet with Louise "the Lightning" Valliere? Sure, a wind dragon was far from the strongest type of dragon, but it was still a dragon.
The small pink hair girl ran her fingers across its scales, a grin that bordered between one of genuine happiness and smug satisfaction.
At first, Kirche had been excited to meet the heir of her rival family. Only until Louise turned out to be a spitting image of her mother, and all that entailed. Extremely talented, with no patience for slacking off, and little willingness to tolerate misbehavior in any of her peers.
Still, Kirche wasn't like some of her peers. She at least acknowledged, reluctantly, that Louise had a strong work ethic. She wasn't lazy, hoping that her family's name would be enough to just get through life. Guiche had been projecting pretty hard when he made those remarks, something Kirchie had no issue calling him out on.
But that didn't make the girl any less infuriating though.
Kirche watched as Louise gave her a smug grin but otherwise kept her mouth shut as the next student began the ritual.
No, it certainly didn't make her any less infuriating. But that was the fun part of the little game they played.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
"Princess, are you sure this is fine?" Agnes asked again, looking at her purple hair as they slipped through the underbrush.
"Yes. I can't cast the familiar summoning spell in the Capital, just encase something goes wrong," the Princess stammered out. Even from her current angle, Agnes could see the tight grip the princess kept on her staff.
She knew why the Princess was being so cautious with the spell. Agnes knew the secret of the Princess, sworn to secrecy on a matter that very well would shatter the nation if the truth came to light.
Princess Henrietta, crown princess of Tristian, heir to the throne, had no magic. None knew why. The Queen had been loyal to her oath, as was clear with the birth of the current Crown Princess.
Very few knew this secret. The youngest daughter of the Valliere family was one of them but had kept the secret out of friendship with the princess. They still wrote regularly, with Louise still having faith that the princess could use magic.
Part of their letters included ideas to try, cures, almost anything. But today was special. The day when a familiar was summoned. Which was why they were sneaking through the woods, in the middle of the night.
Agnes hated that. While she understood her intentions, it did little to change the fact that Louise simply made her job harder. Every so often, Louise would send a letter with advice, or ideas to try. Remedies and other such secrets gained at the Academy.
And of course, Henrietta, getting her hopes up, would have to try them. But they couldn't do it in the Palace, because they could be discovered. This meant she was forced to head out in the middle of the night, because if Henrietta hurt herself while Agnes was supposed to be watching her, then she'd be out of a job.
Of course, the odds of that happening were slim, but then again, she had been hired for a reason.
At last, they broke into the clearing, filled with holes and other scares from failed casts, as Henrietta began making the circle for the ritual, the letter from Louise clutched in her hand.
Henrietta followed the instructions for the letter. She couldn't fail. Not this time. Looking at her work, compared to the drawing provided to her by her oldest friend, she read the letter again.
Within, were the words she needed to summon her familiar.
"My servant that exists somewhere in this vast universe, my divine, beautiful, wise, powerful servant, heed my call, I wish from the very bottom of my heart and add to my guidance and appear!"
There was a pause, the wind stilling as the circle flared to life. Then there was an all too familiar thunderous boom, the explosion knocking Henrietta off her feet and into the grass.
No. She couldn't have. She couldn't fail again. She couldn't! Henrietta tried to stand, as Agnes stood before her, sword drawn.
Why? Why? Didn't she know she had to try again? It was the only way to know for sure!
"Princess," Agnes's voice was cold, even more so than usual. "There is something in the smoke."
Henrietta felt her breath hitch in her throat. Crushing despair turned to hope in an instant. She, too, narrowed her eyes, desiring to spot her familiar through the smoke.
From the smoke came a cough. A very human cough, rather than one that came from an animal. The smoke only began to clear, allowing Henrietta to get a good look at them.
Her familiar. Sandy blonde hair nearly reached her shoulders, held up by spinning, looping curls. Their eyes were closed due to all the dust, as they tried to blow away the smoke by waving her hand, the other covering her mouth and nose. She looked just a bit shorter than average.
The smoke cleared enough for Henrietta to spot the woman's clothes. They weren't like anything she had ever seen before. The shirt was large going all the way up her arms, and baggy enough to make the exact details of her frame uncertain. It looked as if it had a partial hood attached to it, which was currently bunched up against the back of her neck.
Her trousers were even stranger. The moonlight was strong enough that she could make out the color of her clothes. Both were blue, with the trousers looking to be made of a different material.
Finally, the smoke cleared enough for the woman to open her eyes, and uncover her mouth, revealing sea-green orbs, piercing in the moonlight. Henrietta felt herself shutter, preparing to walk towards her familiar, though Agnes stood between them.
"Where, am I?" The woman's voice was horse, looking around before her eyes fell upon them. It wasn't in Trisitianian, though. It was closer to Albionese, or, at least, an accent she was not familiar with. Would she need to speak Ablionese to communicate with her familiar?
Henrietta hoped not. She was out of practice when it came to speaking the language. She watched as her familiar blinked in surprise.
"I have no idea what I'm interrupting here," her familair's voice seemed cautious, eyes instantly flickering to Agnes's sword, even if it was now held in a much looser stance. "But I'm just going to go."
Henrietta's eyes widened, almost bugging out of her head. "No! Wait!" She shouted, dancing around Agnes's grasp despite her bodyguard's vocal protests. Her familiar turned around from the sudden racket, as Henrietta got closer.
While the moons shone brightly, it was still nighttime, and Henrietta's eyes were firmly locked on her familiar's face. She felt something snag as she tried to keep moving toward her familiar, her familiar eyes being replaced by the rapidly approaching grass and dirt. Henrietta threw up her hands in an attempt to stop her fall and waited for the pain.
Only for two arms to grab hers, preventing her from falling into the dirt entirely. Henrietta knew her knees were scratched up, but she could hide that well enough. She felt a heat build-up in her face, as the fingers let go.
"Easy," her familiar said, taking a step back from Agnes. "I only tried to stop her from getting hurt."
"Agnes, please," Henrietta looked at her bodyguards with the sternest look she could manage.
"Princess, please be reasonable. We have no idea who she is. She could be a treat," Agnes protested, as the woman continued to back away slowly.
"I summoned her as my familiar," Henrietta stood up, shaking off the branch that had caused her to trip and fall. "She is my responsibility." Henrietta watched as her bodyguard mentality began weighing her options.
"Fine. But if she does another to harm you, she will regret it," Agnes lowered her sword, so it was no longer pointing at her familiar.
"Of course. I would hope for nothing less," even though she knew her familiar wouldn't willingly do anything to harm her. Henrietta brushed off her dress. She was going to have to do something about the tear, ideally before tomorrow morning, but that was a problem for later. Henrietta took a moment to collect herself, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, and her excitement.
"Hello," she smiled, steeling her nerves.
"Hi," her familiar sounded cautious, waving her hand slightly. "So you do speak English."
"English?" Henrietta had never of such a tongue in her life. It sounds like Albionese, but her familiar had called it something else. Her outfit didn't look like one of Albionian make, commoner or noble. She hadn't been as familiar with commoner styles, and she doubted the royalty would change their tastes so quickly. "I have never heard of such a language."
Her familiar must have come from a strange place. The spell did call for a familiar from somewhere in the universe. Maybe she had summoned someone from somewhere beyond Halkgina? If she'd never heard of the language that had to be the case.
"That's, interesting," the young woman raised her eyebrow at Henrietta's words, her green eyes flickering around. "Then do you mind telling me where exactly I am? I think I'm a bit, lost, at the moment."
"You're in Tristian," Henrietta said, taking one more deep breath. "I summoned you."
There was a silence in the air, before her familiar pinched herself, hissing through the pain.
"Why did you do that?" She asked, eyes widening.
"Sorry, I'm trying to make sure I'm not actually asleep right now," her familiar painfully twisted her skin. "Because otherwise, I heard you say the words 'summoned me', and I refuse to believe my life has reached that point where that is a thing that would happen."
Henrietta looked at her familiar, completely and utterly baffled by her words. Individually she understood each of them, but what her familiar said made little sense to her.
"Sorry, but this is extremely surreal to me, and I'm operating on too little sleep as it is," she stopped twisting her flesh, at the very least, in favor of pinching her brow. "I don't want to seem rude, Miss?"
"Henrietta. Princess Henrietta de Tristian," Henrietta's first name didn't warrant much of a reaction from her familiar, but her title of Princess did. It wasn't like she was all that well known, but a reaction to her title as Princess was a sign she knew of its importance.
"Alright. Princess. Because why not," the woman rubbed her face. "Is there a way to send me back home, or something? Because I don't have any particular talents at killing demon kings, or whatever it is that's vogue these days."
Henrietta froze, body going stiff. The punch wasn't physical, or intentional, but Henrietta felt it impact her gut all the same. She'd summoned a person. A human being. A familiar was something simple, an animal, occasionally exotic or magical, but often mundane.
A human was not meant to be one of them.
And yet, here one was. One that naturally wanted to return home.
She was Henrietta's only proof that she was a mage. Summoning a familiar was proof, undeniably so, that one was a mage. Proof that she had done it. And that proof was human. Most certainly from another nation, nearly as certainly one she had never heard of. Henrietta had taken a person from their home.
Even in her success, Henrietta still proved to be a failure.
"I do not know if there is such a way," Henrietta looked away from her, no, the woman, beginning to form in her eyes. She missed her familiar's face as it contorted into numerous different expressions.
But she heard a deep breath in, and a deep breath out. Henrietta's head whipped around, returning to her familiar as she stood, eyes closed.
"And I'm guessing you didn't even know what you were summoning, Princess?" The woman said Henrietta's title, but it sounded, almost casual, coming from her mouth. Henrietta shook her head, still blinking out tears, as the woman's mouth became a thin line.
"Cardinal Mazarin may know something that could help," Henrietta offered softly. She summoned this woman. That made her well-being Henrietta's responsibility. She could deal with the consequences later. It was the best idea she could think of to not have the woman wander off. Only being able to speak something akin to Albionese put her at risk.
"That's a start," the woman said, before looking up at the sky, and letting out a whistle. "Two moons? Definitely not in Kansas anymore."
"Kansas?" Henrietta gave her a confused look.
"It's a line from a movie," the woman rubbed her head awkwardly. There was another weird word she didn't understand. Movie. What did her familiar mean by that? "It's about this girl that got caught in a tornado, and it sends her to a magical world where she has to find a Wizard in an Emerald city to get back home."
Those were again, words, the woman had been saying. But as sentences, they rushed past her head.
"Was there a tornado that brought you here?" Henrietta finally asked, uncertain what that was, as well. A wind storm? Would that mean she had mages back where she was from?
"Nothing that extreme," she cracked a slight smile. "Just a bright green disk I was curious enough to poke."
"Can I ask something of you?" Henrietta asked, fidgeting slightly.
"Sure?" The woman looked uncertain as she sounded, but Henrietta pressed on.
"Can I please finish the ritual?" She asked, heart nearly leaping into her throat.
"You haven't finished?" The woman gave Henrietta a confused look. "Do what you need to do, I."
Her words cut off, as Henrietta softly kissed her. In truth, it was a faint brushing of the lips. But it was enough for the magic to do its work. The young woman stepped back in surprise, a faint dusting of red covering her cheeks.
"Was that part of the spell?" another deep breath, this seeming to steady herself, before she winced in pain, clutching her left hand. Henrietta's eye's widened in surprise. Was it supposed to be painful? She'd never heard of anything like that! But in a moment, it passed, the woman waving her hand as if to shake off a fire, even if her face no longer read as if it were in pain, seeming to mutter things softly under her breath.
"I didn't think it was supposed to do that, Miss," Henrietta said, feeling the need to defend her actions. The young woman, whose name she had yet to learn, and even the politeness of asking for it forgotten in Henrietta's excitement.
"It's, fine just warn me next," the woman paused for a moment as if fully realizing what Henrietta had said. "Miss?"
"Sorry, I forgot to ask for your name," Henrietta said softly, shifting her feet. In the heat of the moment, such niceties had slipped away, despite all her training. She hadn't expected a human, but that shouldn't be an excuse for poor manners. The woman began to rub her brow, as if to soothe something building up.
"That, wasn't my point," the woman said, seemingly confused. "But why Miss?"
Henrietta looked at the woman's fingers. There was no sign of a ring, be it metal or made of some other cheaper material. Unless marriage traditions were vastly different, there would be no reason for miss to draw such a reaction. So was she married? Now that she had gotten a closer look, Henrietta realized the woman she summoned looked rather, bland, her odd clothes aside. There was no hint of makeup, and no jewelry, not even simple designs. And she, while looking to be at least a few years old than Henrietta herself, couldn't be old enough to be a Ms.
"Because you're a young woman," Henrietta offered tentatively, still unsure what was bothering the strange woman.
"A?" She looked down, for the first time, staring at herself, as if realizing something for the first time. It was strange, watching her face contort into all sorts of weird expressions, from shock to surprise, to horror, to amazement, all in the span of a handful of seconds. Slowly, cautiously, as if Henrietta was watching someone who was about to do something they had been told repeatedly not to do, poked her chest. There was a pregnant pause before the deep breaths began. In and out. In and out. But this time, it didn't seem like it would be enough to suppress what was bubbling to the surface.
"I do not recall, at any point, in the history of ever," she ground out, teeth grinding against one another. "Asking for a mammary!" The last words came as a near shout, barely contained by a sense of restraint, even if Henrietta had no clue what the woman could have possibly meant by that. She had to be misremembering her words. Because otherwise, she had said something about not asking for breasts.
Which was an abnormal thing to say in any situation. Was she saying she wanted to be, flat? No, that didn't make sense either. The wording made it sound like.
Henrietta's mouth made a silent 'o'. She wasn't the best at magic, or the most researched, not like Louise was. But even she knew enough to know that couldn't possibly be the result of the Summoning Ritual. Couldn't, and yet, it was the only thing that could reasonably explain such a reaction. It seemed like she ended up being a failure on multiple fronts.
"Well, at least after that, things probably can't get much," the woman's voice cut off, giving Henrietta enough warning as her frame began to slump forwards, before teetering over completely. Agnes barely had enough time to arrest the woman's fall, as she fell unconscious.
Henrietta took a deep breath in, before exhaling. Make that four times a failure. She summoned a person, kidnapping them. She did, something, to their body that they never asked for, though Henrietta was unsure of what exactly that thing even was. Then the person she summoned passed out for no reason. And finally, she still hadn't had the good graces to ask for the woman's name! Henrietta wiped the tears that had begun to form in her eyes.
Given how everything magical she had tried had ended in nothing but failure tonight, there was one thing left for her to do. She slung the woman's arm over her shoulder, helping Agnes carry the weight. Her bodyguard send her a look, one she quashed with a glare just as potent.
Henrietta refused to let all of tonight be a failure, even if it meant turning to her less, dignified strengths.
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I'll get chapter 2 out after this one before returning to a modified update schedule.
I mean, I say that, but Henrietta being a void mage changes a lot of things when it comes down to the plot.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Kirche scowled. Her and her big mouth. Why did she have to make a bet with Louise "the Lightning" Valliere? Sure, a wind dragon was far from the strongest type of dragon, but it was still a dragon.
The small pink hair girl ran her fingers across its scales, a grin that bordered between one of genuine happiness and smug satisfaction.
At first, Kirche had been excited to meet the heir of her rival family. Only until Louise turned out to be a spitting image of her mother, and all that entailed. Extremely talented, with no patience for slacking off, and little willingness to tolerate misbehavior in any of her peers.
Still, Kirche wasn't like some of her peers. She at least acknowledged, reluctantly, that Louise had a strong work ethic. She wasn't lazy, hoping that her family's name would be enough to just get through life. Guiche had been projecting pretty hard when he made those remarks, something Kirchie had no issue calling him out on.
But that didn't make the girl any less infuriating though.
Kirche watched as Louise gave her a smug grin but otherwise kept her mouth shut as the next student began the ritual.
No, it certainly didn't make her any less infuriating. But that was the fun part of the little game they played.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
"Princess, are you sure this is fine?" Agnes asked again, looking at her purple hair as they slipped through the underbrush.
"Yes. I can't cast the familiar summoning spell in the Capital, just encase something goes wrong," the Princess stammered out. Even from her current angle, Agnes could see the tight grip the princess kept on her staff.
She knew why the Princess was being so cautious with the spell. Agnes knew the secret of the Princess, sworn to secrecy on a matter that very well would shatter the nation if the truth came to light.
Princess Henrietta, crown princess of Tristian, heir to the throne, had no magic. None knew why. The Queen had been loyal to her oath, as was clear with the birth of the current Crown Princess.
Very few knew this secret. The youngest daughter of the Valliere family was one of them but had kept the secret out of friendship with the princess. They still wrote regularly, with Louise still having faith that the princess could use magic.
Part of their letters included ideas to try, cures, almost anything. But today was special. The day when a familiar was summoned. Which was why they were sneaking through the woods, in the middle of the night.
Agnes hated that. While she understood her intentions, it did little to change the fact that Louise simply made her job harder. Every so often, Louise would send a letter with advice, or ideas to try. Remedies and other such secrets gained at the Academy.
And of course, Henrietta, getting her hopes up, would have to try them. But they couldn't do it in the Palace, because they could be discovered. This meant she was forced to head out in the middle of the night, because if Henrietta hurt herself while Agnes was supposed to be watching her, then she'd be out of a job.
Of course, the odds of that happening were slim, but then again, she had been hired for a reason.
At last, they broke into the clearing, filled with holes and other scares from failed casts, as Henrietta began making the circle for the ritual, the letter from Louise clutched in her hand.
Henrietta followed the instructions for the letter. She couldn't fail. Not this time. Looking at her work, compared to the drawing provided to her by her oldest friend, she read the letter again.
Within, were the words she needed to summon her familiar.
"My servant that exists somewhere in this vast universe, my divine, beautiful, wise, powerful servant, heed my call, I wish from the very bottom of my heart and add to my guidance and appear!"
There was a pause, the wind stilling as the circle flared to life. Then there was an all too familiar thunderous boom, the explosion knocking Henrietta off her feet and into the grass.
No. She couldn't have. She couldn't fail again. She couldn't! Henrietta tried to stand, as Agnes stood before her, sword drawn.
Why? Why? Didn't she know she had to try again? It was the only way to know for sure!
"Princess," Agnes's voice was cold, even more so than usual. "There is something in the smoke."
Henrietta felt her breath hitch in her throat. Crushing despair turned to hope in an instant. She, too, narrowed her eyes, desiring to spot her familiar through the smoke.
From the smoke came a cough. A very human cough, rather than one that came from an animal. The smoke only began to clear, allowing Henrietta to get a good look at them.
Her familiar. Sandy blonde hair nearly reached her shoulders, held up by spinning, looping curls. Their eyes were closed due to all the dust, as they tried to blow away the smoke by waving her hand, the other covering her mouth and nose. She looked just a bit shorter than average.
The smoke cleared enough for Henrietta to spot the woman's clothes. They weren't like anything she had ever seen before. The shirt was large going all the way up her arms, and baggy enough to make the exact details of her frame uncertain. It looked as if it had a partial hood attached to it, which was currently bunched up against the back of her neck.
Her trousers were even stranger. The moonlight was strong enough that she could make out the color of her clothes. Both were blue, with the trousers looking to be made of a different material.
Finally, the smoke cleared enough for the woman to open her eyes, and uncover her mouth, revealing sea-green orbs, piercing in the moonlight. Henrietta felt herself shutter, preparing to walk towards her familiar, though Agnes stood between them.
"Where, am I?" The woman's voice was horse, looking around before her eyes fell upon them. It wasn't in Trisitianian, though. It was closer to Albionese, or, at least, an accent she was not familiar with. Would she need to speak Ablionese to communicate with her familiar?
Henrietta hoped not. She was out of practice when it came to speaking the language. She watched as her familiar blinked in surprise.
"I have no idea what I'm interrupting here," her familair's voice seemed cautious, eyes instantly flickering to Agnes's sword, even if it was now held in a much looser stance. "But I'm just going to go."
Henrietta's eyes widened, almost bugging out of her head. "No! Wait!" She shouted, dancing around Agnes's grasp despite her bodyguard's vocal protests. Her familiar turned around from the sudden racket, as Henrietta got closer.
While the moons shone brightly, it was still nighttime, and Henrietta's eyes were firmly locked on her familiar's face. She felt something snag as she tried to keep moving toward her familiar, her familiar eyes being replaced by the rapidly approaching grass and dirt. Henrietta threw up her hands in an attempt to stop her fall and waited for the pain.
Only for two arms to grab hers, preventing her from falling into the dirt entirely. Henrietta knew her knees were scratched up, but she could hide that well enough. She felt a heat build-up in her face, as the fingers let go.
"Easy," her familiar said, taking a step back from Agnes. "I only tried to stop her from getting hurt."
"Agnes, please," Henrietta looked at her bodyguards with the sternest look she could manage.
"Princess, please be reasonable. We have no idea who she is. She could be a treat," Agnes protested, as the woman continued to back away slowly.
"I summoned her as my familiar," Henrietta stood up, shaking off the branch that had caused her to trip and fall. "She is my responsibility." Henrietta watched as her bodyguard mentality began weighing her options.
"Fine. But if she does another to harm you, she will regret it," Agnes lowered her sword, so it was no longer pointing at her familiar.
"Of course. I would hope for nothing less," even though she knew her familiar wouldn't willingly do anything to harm her. Henrietta brushed off her dress. She was going to have to do something about the tear, ideally before tomorrow morning, but that was a problem for later. Henrietta took a moment to collect herself, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, and her excitement.
"Hello," she smiled, steeling her nerves.
"Hi," her familiar sounded cautious, waving her hand slightly. "So you do speak English."
"English?" Henrietta had never of such a tongue in her life. It sounds like Albionese, but her familiar had called it something else. Her outfit didn't look like one of Albionian make, commoner or noble. She hadn't been as familiar with commoner styles, and she doubted the royalty would change their tastes so quickly. "I have never heard of such a language."
Her familiar must have come from a strange place. The spell did call for a familiar from somewhere in the universe. Maybe she had summoned someone from somewhere beyond Halkgina? If she'd never heard of the language that had to be the case.
"That's, interesting," the young woman raised her eyebrow at Henrietta's words, her green eyes flickering around. "Then do you mind telling me where exactly I am? I think I'm a bit, lost, at the moment."
"You're in Tristian," Henrietta said, taking one more deep breath. "I summoned you."
There was a silence in the air, before her familiar pinched herself, hissing through the pain.
"Why did you do that?" She asked, eyes widening.
"Sorry, I'm trying to make sure I'm not actually asleep right now," her familiar painfully twisted her skin. "Because otherwise, I heard you say the words 'summoned me', and I refuse to believe my life has reached that point where that is a thing that would happen."
Henrietta looked at her familiar, completely and utterly baffled by her words. Individually she understood each of them, but what her familiar said made little sense to her.
"Sorry, but this is extremely surreal to me, and I'm operating on too little sleep as it is," she stopped twisting her flesh, at the very least, in favor of pinching her brow. "I don't want to seem rude, Miss?"
"Henrietta. Princess Henrietta de Tristian," Henrietta's first name didn't warrant much of a reaction from her familiar, but her title of Princess did. It wasn't like she was all that well known, but a reaction to her title as Princess was a sign she knew of its importance.
"Alright. Princess. Because why not," the woman rubbed her face. "Is there a way to send me back home, or something? Because I don't have any particular talents at killing demon kings, or whatever it is that's vogue these days."
Henrietta froze, body going stiff. The punch wasn't physical, or intentional, but Henrietta felt it impact her gut all the same. She'd summoned a person. A human being. A familiar was something simple, an animal, occasionally exotic or magical, but often mundane.
A human was not meant to be one of them.
And yet, here one was. One that naturally wanted to return home.
She was Henrietta's only proof that she was a mage. Summoning a familiar was proof, undeniably so, that one was a mage. Proof that she had done it. And that proof was human. Most certainly from another nation, nearly as certainly one she had never heard of. Henrietta had taken a person from their home.
Even in her success, Henrietta still proved to be a failure.
"I do not know if there is such a way," Henrietta looked away from her, no, the woman, beginning to form in her eyes. She missed her familiar's face as it contorted into numerous different expressions.
But she heard a deep breath in, and a deep breath out. Henrietta's head whipped around, returning to her familiar as she stood, eyes closed.
"And I'm guessing you didn't even know what you were summoning, Princess?" The woman said Henrietta's title, but it sounded, almost casual, coming from her mouth. Henrietta shook her head, still blinking out tears, as the woman's mouth became a thin line.
"Cardinal Mazarin may know something that could help," Henrietta offered softly. She summoned this woman. That made her well-being Henrietta's responsibility. She could deal with the consequences later. It was the best idea she could think of to not have the woman wander off. Only being able to speak something akin to Albionese put her at risk.
"That's a start," the woman said, before looking up at the sky, and letting out a whistle. "Two moons? Definitely not in Kansas anymore."
"Kansas?" Henrietta gave her a confused look.
"It's a line from a movie," the woman rubbed her head awkwardly. There was another weird word she didn't understand. Movie. What did her familiar mean by that? "It's about this girl that got caught in a tornado, and it sends her to a magical world where she has to find a Wizard in an Emerald city to get back home."
Those were again, words, the woman had been saying. But as sentences, they rushed past her head.
"Was there a tornado that brought you here?" Henrietta finally asked, uncertain what that was, as well. A wind storm? Would that mean she had mages back where she was from?
"Nothing that extreme," she cracked a slight smile. "Just a bright green disk I was curious enough to poke."
"Can I ask something of you?" Henrietta asked, fidgeting slightly.
"Sure?" The woman looked uncertain as she sounded, but Henrietta pressed on.
"Can I please finish the ritual?" She asked, heart nearly leaping into her throat.
"You haven't finished?" The woman gave Henrietta a confused look. "Do what you need to do, I."
Her words cut off, as Henrietta softly kissed her. In truth, it was a faint brushing of the lips. But it was enough for the magic to do its work. The young woman stepped back in surprise, a faint dusting of red covering her cheeks.
"Was that part of the spell?" another deep breath, this seeming to steady herself, before she winced in pain, clutching her left hand. Henrietta's eye's widened in surprise. Was it supposed to be painful? She'd never heard of anything like that! But in a moment, it passed, the woman waving her hand as if to shake off a fire, even if her face no longer read as if it were in pain, seeming to mutter things softly under her breath.
"I didn't think it was supposed to do that, Miss," Henrietta said, feeling the need to defend her actions. The young woman, whose name she had yet to learn, and even the politeness of asking for it forgotten in Henrietta's excitement.
"It's, fine just warn me next," the woman paused for a moment as if fully realizing what Henrietta had said. "Miss?"
"Sorry, I forgot to ask for your name," Henrietta said softly, shifting her feet. In the heat of the moment, such niceties had slipped away, despite all her training. She hadn't expected a human, but that shouldn't be an excuse for poor manners. The woman began to rub her brow, as if to soothe something building up.
"That, wasn't my point," the woman said, seemingly confused. "But why Miss?"
Henrietta looked at the woman's fingers. There was no sign of a ring, be it metal or made of some other cheaper material. Unless marriage traditions were vastly different, there would be no reason for miss to draw such a reaction. So was she married? Now that she had gotten a closer look, Henrietta realized the woman she summoned looked rather, bland, her odd clothes aside. There was no hint of makeup, and no jewelry, not even simple designs. And she, while looking to be at least a few years old than Henrietta herself, couldn't be old enough to be a Ms.
"Because you're a young woman," Henrietta offered tentatively, still unsure what was bothering the strange woman.
"A?" She looked down, for the first time, staring at herself, as if realizing something for the first time. It was strange, watching her face contort into all sorts of weird expressions, from shock to surprise, to horror, to amazement, all in the span of a handful of seconds. Slowly, cautiously, as if Henrietta was watching someone who was about to do something they had been told repeatedly not to do, poked her chest. There was a pregnant pause before the deep breaths began. In and out. In and out. But this time, it didn't seem like it would be enough to suppress what was bubbling to the surface.
"I do not recall, at any point, in the history of ever," she ground out, teeth grinding against one another. "Asking for a mammary!" The last words came as a near shout, barely contained by a sense of restraint, even if Henrietta had no clue what the woman could have possibly meant by that. She had to be misremembering her words. Because otherwise, she had said something about not asking for breasts.
Which was an abnormal thing to say in any situation. Was she saying she wanted to be, flat? No, that didn't make sense either. The wording made it sound like.
Henrietta's mouth made a silent 'o'. She wasn't the best at magic, or the most researched, not like Louise was. But even she knew enough to know that couldn't possibly be the result of the Summoning Ritual. Couldn't, and yet, it was the only thing that could reasonably explain such a reaction. It seemed like she ended up being a failure on multiple fronts.
"Well, at least after that, things probably can't get much," the woman's voice cut off, giving Henrietta enough warning as her frame began to slump forwards, before teetering over completely. Agnes barely had enough time to arrest the woman's fall, as she fell unconscious.
Henrietta took a deep breath in, before exhaling. Make that four times a failure. She summoned a person, kidnapping them. She did, something, to their body that they never asked for, though Henrietta was unsure of what exactly that thing even was. Then the person she summoned passed out for no reason. And finally, she still hadn't had the good graces to ask for the woman's name! Henrietta wiped the tears that had begun to form in her eyes.
Given how everything magical she had tried had ended in nothing but failure tonight, there was one thing left for her to do. She slung the woman's arm over her shoulder, helping Agnes carry the weight. Her bodyguard send her a look, one she quashed with a glare just as potent.
Henrietta refused to let all of tonight be a failure, even if it meant turning to her less, dignified strengths.
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I'll get chapter 2 out after this one before returning to a modified update schedule.
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Chapter 2
Sneaking in the same way they snuck out was a challenge. Trying to hoist an unconscious person up a rope was not exactly safe, even at the best of times. Trying to do so without rousing any of the guards even more so. Henrietta hadn't thought that far ahead when it came to her plan. Yes, she never intended to summon a human, but she wanted to return with a familiar. So she should have had a plan to at least sneak, something, back into the Palace with her.
But she did not. And given how dragging an unconscious woman through the halls, especially if they got caught, would raise several pointed questions, including ones from her mother and Cardinal Mazarin? Stealth remained the better of the two choices.
Unfortunately, she was going to have to answer questions one way or another. Dragging a stranger in with her would require answers, given the situation at hand. But that was a problem for the future. She had to deal with where to put the woman. While it appeared she was willing to sleep just about anywhere, doing such simply wouldn't do. She couldn't put them with the maids. While there was no shortage of beds, it was clear on the other side of the Palace, and everyone would quickly find out about the young woman's presence come morning. One way or another.
That left her room, or Agnes's, as the safest place to keep her. And while Agnes had a decently sized bed, it wasn't big enough to fit two people. Not without, well. That.
Thankfully, Henrietta was able to calm down the blush on her face before she pulled herself through the window. There was a spare couch in Agnes's room. As much as she would prefer to keep an eye on the woman personally, Agnes would never let her share a room with a stranger. And she'd have everyone else agreeing with her assessment.
Now they just needed to get her to Agnes's room, turn in for the night, and explain everything in the morning. She helped Anges pick the woman back up for the last leg of the journey. Everything would be just fine.
"I was wondering when you would return, Princess," an all too familiar voice came from around the corner, causing Henrietta's blood to run cold. "You can't keep sneaking out like this. Especially this late at night. Even with your bodyguard."
Cardinal Mazarin came into view, making his way through the door. He appeared to be content to continue to lecture her, only for his eyes to fall on the woman held between the two of them. He paused, words in his mouth forgotten.
"Henrietta, who exactly is that?" His voice seemed softer than before as if the man was surprised. Henrietta shifted her feet. She had not planned on this. She had accounted for everything. Out and back in before anyone noticed, with one familiar as proof.
"My familiar," it was the truth, but she knew it wouldn't be that simple. Nobody had summoned a human before as a familiar. There would be pushback for making such a claim, no matter if it was true. This would be the first hurdle. The first real test.
She looked up into the face of the man she knew most of her life, if not nearly all of it. The face that was often so warm and gentle, was blank. For the first time in her life, Henrietta could not read Cardinal Mazarin's face.
"Your, familiar?" She couldn't make out the tone of his voice. "She has a Rune? Can I see it?"
"It's on her left hand," Henrietta said carefully, measuring her response. Something was wrong here. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up on end. She had never seen Cardinal Mazarin act like this. She watched as he slowly looked at the woman's left hand, the mark on her skin clear in the flickering candlelight.
A hand he dropped as if touching it burned him.
"Take her to one of your rooms," he said briskly, trying to hide something. He looked shaken, but by what? Henrietta looked at the woman's left hand. What was so important here? What was so important about the Rune that would cause Cardinal Mazarin to act like this? "Do not let anyone see her, as much as you can. I will need to speak with all three of you in the morning. Everyone has had a long day, and needs some rest."
His face softened slightly. "Please, try to make the most of it."
He turned around, vanishing out the door, almost as silently as he arrived.
Henrietta found herself forcing down a shutter. She hadn't expected that to be his reaction. Cautious trust, maybe, but this? It was as if he had discovered a terrible revelation.
But her familiar wasn't bad. Just, weird.
"I can keep her with me, Princess. If nobody is supposed to know she's here, then my room would be safer," it wasn't like Agnes was wrong. Even if it wouldn't be as comfortable for her familiar. If the maids didn't wake her up, her sister certainly would.
And her sister would never keep quiet about something like that.
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Cardinal Marazini did not take his advice. While he did head to his chambers, it was not to rest. Even if he knew he should. Even if he already knew the answer. The runes merely confirmed what he long suspected, nay, knew. But he had to check again, to make sure it wasn't his memory playing a trick on him. Even if he knew deep down, it would only serve to confirm his suspicions And his fears.
The mark was unmistakable. Gandalfr.
The Left Hand of God.
It meant one thing, and one thing alone. That Henrietta was an heir of the Void. And everything that entailed. He could no longer lie to himself. He had always suspected, but never looked deeper, fearing for the girl's safety. The first Void mage to appear since the days of the Founder? She would be in no small amount of danger, if such ever came to light. The Church would know the signs, and to have such confirmed from them, would come at a considerable price. The new Pope was young. Very young. And Cardnal Marazini had little idea of how he managed to reach such a position. But he could not do so without some sort of ace up his sleeve.
While he could have taken the position, if he so desired, he had a place here, in Tristian. Helping lead the nation until Crown Princess Minette was ready to sit on the throne was important, given to him by her late father. Keeping Princess Henrietta safe was also important to him, but now, the situation had changed.
Cardenal Marazini could no longer ignore the truth staring him in the face. Henrietta, if her powers as an heir of the void became known, would be in grave danger, from both threats internal and external. While Princess Henrietta was more than content on letting her younger sister take the throne, many, if her powers became known, would prefer to have her in the position as crown heir, if not replace her mother outright. Externally? The Church was clear and present. While in theory, they should try to protect and recognize a Void Mage when one emerged, Marazin knew that the Church had many faults. Ones that could result in them trying to deal with a threat to their power, on the Pope's orders, or otherwise.
Then there was Albion. While the nation was in the grips of civil conflict, the relationship between the island nation and Tristian had grown chilly in recent years. Even if it was largely behind the scenes, many nobles had sensed the shifting stance of the crown and had already begun to look for new allies. While the rebels could attack anyway, if the royals managed to win the day, he could imagine Prince Wales being rather incensed over what he had thrown away.
Gallia was the nation on Tristian's southern border, and one of it's largest neighbors. He had little clue how the nation would react to such news. King Joseph, while considered by some to be an utter fool, was in reality, a much smoother political operator than most realized. The nation was in the middle of its revolution. But rather than one of conflict, it was one of renewal. Social, economic, and political reforms abound, making great leaps in magical theory and technology.
Reforms Cardnel Marazini suspected could be put to use in Tristian as well, even if many nobles considered King Joseph to be an utter madman. But such a move would serve well in addressing the growing tensions in Tristian itself, should it come down to it. Though Marazini knew that such reforms would be heavily resisted. Between the nations of Germania and Gallia, it was Gallia that he would prefer to reach out for a political alliance. However, there was little in the way that Tristian could offer Gallia. There was little doubt in his mind that an agreement could be reached, but without a political marriage to bind things together, there was a risk that Gallia could just not defend Tristian.
It would be a dishonorable move, and King Joseph did not seem like the type, but it would always be something raised as an argument by some against such an alliance. Given how King Joseph only had a single daughter, one before the passing of his wife. While his brother, Charles de Orleans, who was still in the line of succession, had a pair of daughters. Twins, if he remembered correctly. It wouldn't be impossible if such a marriage wasn't between crown heirs, but it would be an extremely controversial one. So that wouldn't be an outcome until he had little other option.
The last of Tristian's immediate neighbors was Germania. The much larger nation had several conflicts along Tristian's northern border, usually with the Valliere family over the years. While many and Tristian considered their northern neighbor little more than barbarians, there was wisdom in not caring where a good idea came from. Merely that it was a good idea worthy of implementing. And yet, despite that, it had always rankled many Germanian Emperors over the years that their nation was never considered one of the Brimiric Kingdoms. And the one who sat on the throne presently was no expectation of that long-running trend.
Though the current Emperor was also married. However, his eldest son and heir were not, and the Germanian Emperor was more than willing to offer his son's hand in marriage to either of Tristian's Princesses. It was an unenviable position for him to be in. Henrietta was a void mage, and while she had largely been prepared for a political marriage most of her life, that simple fact changed things.
Henrietta was much too important to spend in a political marriage at this point, even if she or anyone else didn't know it yet. But it wasn't as if Minette was ready for something like that, either. She may have been the crown Princess, next in line for the throne, but the young girl was all of ten years old. Princess Minette still had several years of growing up to do.
In the end, he could only hope that the conflict would rage for some time to come. If the Royal family won out, in the end, there would be little to fear, at least for a few decades. If the rebels won, then their fleets would likely be crippled for at least a few years, if not longer. Meaning it would take time before they were willing to commit to an invasion. While the Royals were on the back foot, they were hardly out of the war. It was possible they could turn the conflict around.
But in the end, matters of foreign affairs could wait. Now there was a question, several questions, about Henrietta's new familiar. Where did she come from? How willing was she to protect Henrietta? Was she even capable of performing such a function, at least at a quality that compared to Agnes? Was he going to need to hide her? While few knew the runes of the Familiars of Brimir, precious few, in fact, but there was a handful, even outside the Church, who could acquire such knowledge. If they knew were to look. And while Marazini was certain that none resided in the Capital, much less the Palace, how much was he willing to risk Henrietta's safety?
Because if someone did manage to track Gandalfr back to Henrietta, as unlikely as such an event could be, it could prove a disaster.
For the first time in a long time, Cardinal Marazini felt the weight of his years crashing down upon his shoulders. Perhaps he should wait to see the young lady's character before he starts making plans of that nature. A glove would likely be obfuscation enough. It wasn't like most nobles even recognize Gandalfr, even if they saw it. Cardinal Marazini had time, it was time he could use to obfuscate the situation. For Henrietta's protection, she couldn't know the truth.
He was getting worried for nothing.
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This wasn't my apartment. The morning sun was too strong for that. The light poured through the windows, a foul and offensive thing.
It was safe to say, I was never, particularly a morning person. I only got up when the sun decided it was time to offend me, or when the screaming of the alarm clock forced me to deal with its baleful sounds.
Of course, that was largely secondary to a much larger problem. If this wasn't my apartment, then last night had not been a dream. Which was, not great. At all. It wasn't like I had rent, and bills to pay, a credit card payment coming up, and a whole lot of expensive cards ordered.
Then again, I looked down at my chest. Well, forwards, seeing as I was laying down on a couch, a sure sign of just how tired I was. If I had these, then who knew what else had changed about my physical appearance? And, well, that would make reclaiming my old identity considerably more difficult, now wouldn't it? Provided, there was, you know, a way back in the first place.
After all, the Princess had only promised that she'd ask this Cardnal Marazini fellow, not that he would have any answers. Damn specific wording, but what else was I supposed to do? My skills in foreign langue weren't good, if the Princess, who probably had quite a bit of experience in foreign languages, because, surprise, that'd be an important skill for someone of Royal status to have, then I wouldn't be talking with many other people. Hell, she didn't even call it English, so I had rolled impossible odds multiple times last night.
Either that, or there was magic afoot. And who am I kidding, there was magic already afoot. I raised my left hand, bringing it into my line of sight, staring at the mark now present. Runes of some sort, probably spelling, something, even if I had no idea what that something was. I could probably figure it out if I had enough time. Because clearly, something important was in play. Sure, real life didn't have anything to do with narrative tropes and themes, but the Princess did say that summoning a human was not supposed to happen. Or at least, hadn't happened before. Unless.
I groaned, putting my hands on my face. It was too early in the morning to even be considering crazy conspiracies, especially when I hardly had any information to go off of. But I was really not liking the mark. I thought this had been one of those "summon the hero to beat the Demon King" situations. If I knew it was a summon familiar, I would have kept my distance.
Thankfully, I didn't feel all that different, besides the whole, waking up in a strange new place in a magical world, thing. Oh, yeah, and I also can't forget that I also grew boobs. Because it wasn't as if Murphy decided to drop kick me in my now metaphorical balls hard enough already.
Grumbling, I propped myself up on the couch, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. The room was, smaller, and considerably less lavish than I would have expected from a Princess. I'd been put up on the couch, so this wasn't a guest room either, as there was a bed over on one of the walls.
"Good, you're awake," the woman's voice was heavily accented, different from the Princess's. I turned my head, resisting the urge to recoil. In hindsight, I should have seen that coming. Rooming me with the Princess would have been a security risk. Sure, I had no intention of hurting anyone, but they didn't know that now did they? And it wasn't like me not having any weapons made it okay, either.
Now, did I like being around the person who was just last night pointing a sword in my face for a little damn reason? No. No, I was most certainly not. But the fact she could mess me up was, well, likely part of the reason. At least until they were certain I could be trusted.
"Good morning to you too," I grumbled, stretching out my back. I'd take the couch over the floor, but the couch wasn't meant for a person to spend an entire night on it. Thank goodness I was able to sleep like a log.
Agnes was already fully dressed, complete with her armor and sword. I eyed the weapon on her belt cautiously.
"I was going to have to get you up myself if you didn't wake up yourself," she said, before throwing a towel at me, one that I barely managed to catch. "Go clean up."
"Thank you for your hospitality," I mumbled, largely to myself, as I went in the direction Agnes was pointing in, leading to a washroom. I understood why. I hadn't taken a shower last night, for self-explaining reasons. And without that shower, I likely stunk. Bad.
Nice to know Agnes had some degree of tact.
As for the washroom itself? It was quaint. Not too big, but respectable all the same.
But one clear thing was that I was going to have to invent the shower. Because this place seemingly didn't have one. Or, at least, nothing I recognized as one.
How do showers work, exactly?
I turned slightly, finding what only could be a tubular metal cage, still somewhat damp. Was this the shower? I looked over the crank attached to another metal cylinder. Was this the water supply? Well, I suppose there is only one way to find out.
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It was, without a doubt, the worst experience with a shower I think I've ever had. But at least it was a shower. That was better than nothing.
Unlike my clothes. A shower was lucky, but for those, I doubt the washing machine would be invented for a few years now. Which meant I was going to have to clean those by hand.
Wearing those again was probably not a smart move. Serviceable, yes, but the shirt likely had sweat on it, as it'd been a long day at work, and it had overnight to ferment.
Which left the other clothes. Agnes had taken some further courtesy, or, I hope it was courtesy, and left some pants and shirts out.
It took a brief moment to assemble an outfit that wouldn't offend anyone's sensibilities. Thankfully, no skirts or dresses, meaning I wasn't going to get a crash course on how to sit with those. At least, not today.
I double-checked to make sure my hair was dry, before stepping out into the room. Agnes was still there, standing dutifully near the door. The Princess was sitting on one of the couches, waving at me slightly as I entered the room. I returned the welcome display, but my eyes turned to the man in the room.
He was old. Not old, old, but old enough. His hair had already begun to go Grey.
This had to be the Cardinal. If it wasn't then I'd eat the man's hat.
"Cardinal Mazarin, I presume?" I offered, placing my old clothes on a windowsill.
"Indeed, child," the old man smiled softly. "Please, do, have a seat. And wouldn't it be an assumption?"
"Well, you're old enough to be of that rank, no offense," I offered, sitting down slowly on the couch across from them. "That and Princess Henrietta mentioned you previously. Logically speaking, you being Cardinal Marazini is the most likely outcome."
"I see," the man nodded thoughtfully. I looked over toward the girl in question. There was a brief flash on her face that I could barely make out. Disappointment? "You are correct. I am indeed Cardinal Marazini."
"It is an honor to meet you then sir," I took a deep nod. Sure, I wasn't going to kneel, but I was going to be respectful, at minimum.
"Thank you," he said. "But before we continue, there is a little problem that needs to be taken care of."
He pulled out a wand, and waved it briefly, to no, real effect. "That should fix our little communication problem for the future."
His voice had gone from a faint accent to being clear as day English.
"A translation spell?" I muttered, mostly to myself. Why hadn't the Princess cast a similar spell? Was it simply a more advanced spell? Or did it have something to do with her summoning me? "Thank you. That is very kind of you."
"Indeed. Henrietta said you wanted to go home, correct?" My ears quickly perked up. This quickly?
"That is correct," I leaned forward, hoping for good news.
"There are reports throughout Halkegenia's history of objects, sometimes even people, being pulled to our world from another," he said, fingers crossed. "However, many of these are allegedly tied to astrological events, and if these go both ways, we have never seen any proof of such."
That was. News.
"So they're tied to things like solar and lunar eclipses," something that yes, did have patterns, but had a significant amount of time between them, and only occurred for a short while. "And you have no way of knowing if the door even opens from this side."
I scowled.
"I mean, a door can be busted down if one has enough strength, or if one simply uses a key they can unlock it," I thought out loud. The door was open when it transported the goods, meaning a two-way trip was hypothetically possible. Risky, but possible. And it wasn't like someone was going to know when a portal on Earth would open either, if it was tied to astrological events on this side.
Plus, Earth was a big place. Halkegenia probably was too. There were a lot of places a portal could appear. Of course, there was the problem of time. Was it desynchronized?
"Blunt, and perhaps inelegant, but that is true fornon-magicall doorways," Cardinal Marazini's words reminded me of the other factor in play. Magic. These portals or transports might have been even on ground level. Easily accessible. But rather, up in the sky. So unless an aircraft came over and someone maintained it, I might be out of luck anyway.
"Plus, it isn't a guarantee that those are linked to where I'm from, either," I said, shaking my head. Out of one frying pan and onto the stovetop. Or possibly the inferno. "I mean, if there are two worlds, why could there not be more?"
"That is, something I did not consider," Cardinal Marazini frowned, scratching his chin. "I will do some research on the matter, then. I'm busy, and don't think I can promise much, however."
"That's fine, Cardinal Marazini. I'm not going to ask for certainties for things completely out of your hands," I did my best to smile, despite everything. "The fact you're willing to help me means a lot."
"And then there was the thing you were talking about, with your, mammary," Henrietta spoke at last, stammering over the last word. Agnes, to her credit, had the poker face of a God, as Marazini gave me a strange look.
"Yes, the fact this isn't the body I had before I got summoned is going to be another complicating factor," I groaned, resting my hands against my face. "But that's only going to be a problem when I get to that bridge."
If I get there.
"Interesting," Cardinal Marazini gave me a hesitant look. "I've never heard of a spell that does something like that. Ones that can change one's appearance, maybe, but usually an illusion, and they aren't this, persistent. They're typically tied to magical artifacts as well."
"It might be the time of day. Usually, the Familiar Summoning Ritual happens during the day, or perhaps there is more to the spell than we know. It was devised by the Founder himself, after all," Cardinal Marazini said. Founder? That had to be a person of fairly important, if not religious significance. "On that note, I do have a request from you."
"Yes?" I asked cautiously.
"When you go out in public, please wear a pair of gloves at all times," his words were serious, but that was. Not a request I saw coming.
"Can I ask why?" It was a small thing to ask, but it had taken me off guard. "I understand it's a minor thing, but I'm curious as to why."
"That is because the rune on your hand is very similar to one of the Rune's found on one the Familiars of Brimir," Henrietta gasped, hands going to her mouth in shock. "Otherwise known as the Founder. While many Bishops would be able to realize, while close, others are less informed, and could attempt to hurt the Princess as a result."
"That's more than understandable, Cardinal Marazini. I'll do everything in my power to remember that," I nodded. Yeah, I wasn't wholly buying that excuse. Oh, there was absolutely no doubt in my mind that Marazini wasn't lying about how the Princess could be in danger. That made perfect sense, even if he wasn't lying.
But the rune on the back of my hand just so happened to look close enough to an important religious figure that it could be mistaken for the same one? Yeah, I'm internally calling that out. Externally? I had no proof other than vibes and the simple fact that sounded incredibly suspicious and deflective. Since this guy was clearly an important individual regardless of further context, I was going to keep my mouth shut until I had proof. Proof and enough contextual information to make a judgment call or not on whether or not the good Cardnal's caution was warranted.
"In the meanwhile, it would be best to come up with a disguise, or at least an explanation for your presence," Cardinal Marazini said. "A human familiar is not something I've heard of before, and it attracts unwanted attention either way. Unless there is someplace else you'd rather be?"
I paused at the option. The offer was clear. If I didn't want to stay, I didn't need to. However, that was not so straightforward. Sure, a translation spell was worth its weight in gold, especially if it stuck around. That would be helpful in finding a job. But staying? Sure, I certainly could find work, I've worked in the customer service industry. But this was at minimum a roof over my head, even if I didn't stay here in this room, likely food, and working for the royal family had to pay decently, likely better than any job I could find outside the palace.
Sure, the man had to know that simple fact, that logically, this was the safest play I could make. But the option to be illogical was, appreciated.
"Thank you, but I'd rather stay here as is," I said. Facing facts, I wasn't exactly in a position where I wanted to take risks. I could scarcely say I was, pleased with things, but it wasn't like that would change either. I was stuck, and staying put was the safest option. And it had the most concentration of resources in helping me get back home. Henrietta smiled, leaping across from one coach onto me, as Cardinal Marazini shook his head, though he had a slight grin on his face.
"I could try for one of the guards," I said, not bothering to resist Henrietta. "Or failing that, one of the servants around the palace. Both would give me excuses to be close."
"An excellent idea!" Cardinal Marazini smiled, standing up. "I will take my leave. I'm sure you'll be able to sort things out between the three of you."
Agnes opened the door for him, and she grinned, an expression that sent chills down my spine. "I should be able to evaluate if you're up to the task of being a guard."
My body was going to be a bruise by the end of the day, wasn't it?
But she did not. And given how dragging an unconscious woman through the halls, especially if they got caught, would raise several pointed questions, including ones from her mother and Cardinal Mazarin? Stealth remained the better of the two choices.
Unfortunately, she was going to have to answer questions one way or another. Dragging a stranger in with her would require answers, given the situation at hand. But that was a problem for the future. She had to deal with where to put the woman. While it appeared she was willing to sleep just about anywhere, doing such simply wouldn't do. She couldn't put them with the maids. While there was no shortage of beds, it was clear on the other side of the Palace, and everyone would quickly find out about the young woman's presence come morning. One way or another.
That left her room, or Agnes's, as the safest place to keep her. And while Agnes had a decently sized bed, it wasn't big enough to fit two people. Not without, well. That.
Thankfully, Henrietta was able to calm down the blush on her face before she pulled herself through the window. There was a spare couch in Agnes's room. As much as she would prefer to keep an eye on the woman personally, Agnes would never let her share a room with a stranger. And she'd have everyone else agreeing with her assessment.
Now they just needed to get her to Agnes's room, turn in for the night, and explain everything in the morning. She helped Anges pick the woman back up for the last leg of the journey. Everything would be just fine.
"I was wondering when you would return, Princess," an all too familiar voice came from around the corner, causing Henrietta's blood to run cold. "You can't keep sneaking out like this. Especially this late at night. Even with your bodyguard."
Cardinal Mazarin came into view, making his way through the door. He appeared to be content to continue to lecture her, only for his eyes to fall on the woman held between the two of them. He paused, words in his mouth forgotten.
"Henrietta, who exactly is that?" His voice seemed softer than before as if the man was surprised. Henrietta shifted her feet. She had not planned on this. She had accounted for everything. Out and back in before anyone noticed, with one familiar as proof.
"My familiar," it was the truth, but she knew it wouldn't be that simple. Nobody had summoned a human before as a familiar. There would be pushback for making such a claim, no matter if it was true. This would be the first hurdle. The first real test.
She looked up into the face of the man she knew most of her life, if not nearly all of it. The face that was often so warm and gentle, was blank. For the first time in her life, Henrietta could not read Cardinal Mazarin's face.
"Your, familiar?" She couldn't make out the tone of his voice. "She has a Rune? Can I see it?"
"It's on her left hand," Henrietta said carefully, measuring her response. Something was wrong here. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up on end. She had never seen Cardinal Mazarin act like this. She watched as he slowly looked at the woman's left hand, the mark on her skin clear in the flickering candlelight.
A hand he dropped as if touching it burned him.
"Take her to one of your rooms," he said briskly, trying to hide something. He looked shaken, but by what? Henrietta looked at the woman's left hand. What was so important here? What was so important about the Rune that would cause Cardinal Mazarin to act like this? "Do not let anyone see her, as much as you can. I will need to speak with all three of you in the morning. Everyone has had a long day, and needs some rest."
His face softened slightly. "Please, try to make the most of it."
He turned around, vanishing out the door, almost as silently as he arrived.
Henrietta found herself forcing down a shutter. She hadn't expected that to be his reaction. Cautious trust, maybe, but this? It was as if he had discovered a terrible revelation.
But her familiar wasn't bad. Just, weird.
"I can keep her with me, Princess. If nobody is supposed to know she's here, then my room would be safer," it wasn't like Agnes was wrong. Even if it wouldn't be as comfortable for her familiar. If the maids didn't wake her up, her sister certainly would.
And her sister would never keep quiet about something like that.
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Cardinal Marazini did not take his advice. While he did head to his chambers, it was not to rest. Even if he knew he should. Even if he already knew the answer. The runes merely confirmed what he long suspected, nay, knew. But he had to check again, to make sure it wasn't his memory playing a trick on him. Even if he knew deep down, it would only serve to confirm his suspicions And his fears.
The mark was unmistakable. Gandalfr.
The Left Hand of God.
It meant one thing, and one thing alone. That Henrietta was an heir of the Void. And everything that entailed. He could no longer lie to himself. He had always suspected, but never looked deeper, fearing for the girl's safety. The first Void mage to appear since the days of the Founder? She would be in no small amount of danger, if such ever came to light. The Church would know the signs, and to have such confirmed from them, would come at a considerable price. The new Pope was young. Very young. And Cardnal Marazini had little idea of how he managed to reach such a position. But he could not do so without some sort of ace up his sleeve.
While he could have taken the position, if he so desired, he had a place here, in Tristian. Helping lead the nation until Crown Princess Minette was ready to sit on the throne was important, given to him by her late father. Keeping Princess Henrietta safe was also important to him, but now, the situation had changed.
Cardenal Marazini could no longer ignore the truth staring him in the face. Henrietta, if her powers as an heir of the void became known, would be in grave danger, from both threats internal and external. While Princess Henrietta was more than content on letting her younger sister take the throne, many, if her powers became known, would prefer to have her in the position as crown heir, if not replace her mother outright. Externally? The Church was clear and present. While in theory, they should try to protect and recognize a Void Mage when one emerged, Marazin knew that the Church had many faults. Ones that could result in them trying to deal with a threat to their power, on the Pope's orders, or otherwise.
Then there was Albion. While the nation was in the grips of civil conflict, the relationship between the island nation and Tristian had grown chilly in recent years. Even if it was largely behind the scenes, many nobles had sensed the shifting stance of the crown and had already begun to look for new allies. While the rebels could attack anyway, if the royals managed to win the day, he could imagine Prince Wales being rather incensed over what he had thrown away.
Gallia was the nation on Tristian's southern border, and one of it's largest neighbors. He had little clue how the nation would react to such news. King Joseph, while considered by some to be an utter fool, was in reality, a much smoother political operator than most realized. The nation was in the middle of its revolution. But rather than one of conflict, it was one of renewal. Social, economic, and political reforms abound, making great leaps in magical theory and technology.
Reforms Cardnel Marazini suspected could be put to use in Tristian as well, even if many nobles considered King Joseph to be an utter madman. But such a move would serve well in addressing the growing tensions in Tristian itself, should it come down to it. Though Marazini knew that such reforms would be heavily resisted. Between the nations of Germania and Gallia, it was Gallia that he would prefer to reach out for a political alliance. However, there was little in the way that Tristian could offer Gallia. There was little doubt in his mind that an agreement could be reached, but without a political marriage to bind things together, there was a risk that Gallia could just not defend Tristian.
It would be a dishonorable move, and King Joseph did not seem like the type, but it would always be something raised as an argument by some against such an alliance. Given how King Joseph only had a single daughter, one before the passing of his wife. While his brother, Charles de Orleans, who was still in the line of succession, had a pair of daughters. Twins, if he remembered correctly. It wouldn't be impossible if such a marriage wasn't between crown heirs, but it would be an extremely controversial one. So that wouldn't be an outcome until he had little other option.
The last of Tristian's immediate neighbors was Germania. The much larger nation had several conflicts along Tristian's northern border, usually with the Valliere family over the years. While many and Tristian considered their northern neighbor little more than barbarians, there was wisdom in not caring where a good idea came from. Merely that it was a good idea worthy of implementing. And yet, despite that, it had always rankled many Germanian Emperors over the years that their nation was never considered one of the Brimiric Kingdoms. And the one who sat on the throne presently was no expectation of that long-running trend.
Though the current Emperor was also married. However, his eldest son and heir were not, and the Germanian Emperor was more than willing to offer his son's hand in marriage to either of Tristian's Princesses. It was an unenviable position for him to be in. Henrietta was a void mage, and while she had largely been prepared for a political marriage most of her life, that simple fact changed things.
Henrietta was much too important to spend in a political marriage at this point, even if she or anyone else didn't know it yet. But it wasn't as if Minette was ready for something like that, either. She may have been the crown Princess, next in line for the throne, but the young girl was all of ten years old. Princess Minette still had several years of growing up to do.
In the end, he could only hope that the conflict would rage for some time to come. If the Royal family won out, in the end, there would be little to fear, at least for a few decades. If the rebels won, then their fleets would likely be crippled for at least a few years, if not longer. Meaning it would take time before they were willing to commit to an invasion. While the Royals were on the back foot, they were hardly out of the war. It was possible they could turn the conflict around.
But in the end, matters of foreign affairs could wait. Now there was a question, several questions, about Henrietta's new familiar. Where did she come from? How willing was she to protect Henrietta? Was she even capable of performing such a function, at least at a quality that compared to Agnes? Was he going to need to hide her? While few knew the runes of the Familiars of Brimir, precious few, in fact, but there was a handful, even outside the Church, who could acquire such knowledge. If they knew were to look. And while Marazini was certain that none resided in the Capital, much less the Palace, how much was he willing to risk Henrietta's safety?
Because if someone did manage to track Gandalfr back to Henrietta, as unlikely as such an event could be, it could prove a disaster.
For the first time in a long time, Cardinal Marazini felt the weight of his years crashing down upon his shoulders. Perhaps he should wait to see the young lady's character before he starts making plans of that nature. A glove would likely be obfuscation enough. It wasn't like most nobles even recognize Gandalfr, even if they saw it. Cardinal Marazini had time, it was time he could use to obfuscate the situation. For Henrietta's protection, she couldn't know the truth.
He was getting worried for nothing.
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This wasn't my apartment. The morning sun was too strong for that. The light poured through the windows, a foul and offensive thing.
It was safe to say, I was never, particularly a morning person. I only got up when the sun decided it was time to offend me, or when the screaming of the alarm clock forced me to deal with its baleful sounds.
Of course, that was largely secondary to a much larger problem. If this wasn't my apartment, then last night had not been a dream. Which was, not great. At all. It wasn't like I had rent, and bills to pay, a credit card payment coming up, and a whole lot of expensive cards ordered.
Then again, I looked down at my chest. Well, forwards, seeing as I was laying down on a couch, a sure sign of just how tired I was. If I had these, then who knew what else had changed about my physical appearance? And, well, that would make reclaiming my old identity considerably more difficult, now wouldn't it? Provided, there was, you know, a way back in the first place.
After all, the Princess had only promised that she'd ask this Cardnal Marazini fellow, not that he would have any answers. Damn specific wording, but what else was I supposed to do? My skills in foreign langue weren't good, if the Princess, who probably had quite a bit of experience in foreign languages, because, surprise, that'd be an important skill for someone of Royal status to have, then I wouldn't be talking with many other people. Hell, she didn't even call it English, so I had rolled impossible odds multiple times last night.
Either that, or there was magic afoot. And who am I kidding, there was magic already afoot. I raised my left hand, bringing it into my line of sight, staring at the mark now present. Runes of some sort, probably spelling, something, even if I had no idea what that something was. I could probably figure it out if I had enough time. Because clearly, something important was in play. Sure, real life didn't have anything to do with narrative tropes and themes, but the Princess did say that summoning a human was not supposed to happen. Or at least, hadn't happened before. Unless.
I groaned, putting my hands on my face. It was too early in the morning to even be considering crazy conspiracies, especially when I hardly had any information to go off of. But I was really not liking the mark. I thought this had been one of those "summon the hero to beat the Demon King" situations. If I knew it was a summon familiar, I would have kept my distance.
Thankfully, I didn't feel all that different, besides the whole, waking up in a strange new place in a magical world, thing. Oh, yeah, and I also can't forget that I also grew boobs. Because it wasn't as if Murphy decided to drop kick me in my now metaphorical balls hard enough already.
Grumbling, I propped myself up on the couch, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. The room was, smaller, and considerably less lavish than I would have expected from a Princess. I'd been put up on the couch, so this wasn't a guest room either, as there was a bed over on one of the walls.
"Good, you're awake," the woman's voice was heavily accented, different from the Princess's. I turned my head, resisting the urge to recoil. In hindsight, I should have seen that coming. Rooming me with the Princess would have been a security risk. Sure, I had no intention of hurting anyone, but they didn't know that now did they? And it wasn't like me not having any weapons made it okay, either.
Now, did I like being around the person who was just last night pointing a sword in my face for a little damn reason? No. No, I was most certainly not. But the fact she could mess me up was, well, likely part of the reason. At least until they were certain I could be trusted.
"Good morning to you too," I grumbled, stretching out my back. I'd take the couch over the floor, but the couch wasn't meant for a person to spend an entire night on it. Thank goodness I was able to sleep like a log.
Agnes was already fully dressed, complete with her armor and sword. I eyed the weapon on her belt cautiously.
"I was going to have to get you up myself if you didn't wake up yourself," she said, before throwing a towel at me, one that I barely managed to catch. "Go clean up."
"Thank you for your hospitality," I mumbled, largely to myself, as I went in the direction Agnes was pointing in, leading to a washroom. I understood why. I hadn't taken a shower last night, for self-explaining reasons. And without that shower, I likely stunk. Bad.
Nice to know Agnes had some degree of tact.
As for the washroom itself? It was quaint. Not too big, but respectable all the same.
But one clear thing was that I was going to have to invent the shower. Because this place seemingly didn't have one. Or, at least, nothing I recognized as one.
How do showers work, exactly?
I turned slightly, finding what only could be a tubular metal cage, still somewhat damp. Was this the shower? I looked over the crank attached to another metal cylinder. Was this the water supply? Well, I suppose there is only one way to find out.
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It was, without a doubt, the worst experience with a shower I think I've ever had. But at least it was a shower. That was better than nothing.
Unlike my clothes. A shower was lucky, but for those, I doubt the washing machine would be invented for a few years now. Which meant I was going to have to clean those by hand.
Wearing those again was probably not a smart move. Serviceable, yes, but the shirt likely had sweat on it, as it'd been a long day at work, and it had overnight to ferment.
Which left the other clothes. Agnes had taken some further courtesy, or, I hope it was courtesy, and left some pants and shirts out.
It took a brief moment to assemble an outfit that wouldn't offend anyone's sensibilities. Thankfully, no skirts or dresses, meaning I wasn't going to get a crash course on how to sit with those. At least, not today.
I double-checked to make sure my hair was dry, before stepping out into the room. Agnes was still there, standing dutifully near the door. The Princess was sitting on one of the couches, waving at me slightly as I entered the room. I returned the welcome display, but my eyes turned to the man in the room.
He was old. Not old, old, but old enough. His hair had already begun to go Grey.
This had to be the Cardinal. If it wasn't then I'd eat the man's hat.
"Cardinal Mazarin, I presume?" I offered, placing my old clothes on a windowsill.
"Indeed, child," the old man smiled softly. "Please, do, have a seat. And wouldn't it be an assumption?"
"Well, you're old enough to be of that rank, no offense," I offered, sitting down slowly on the couch across from them. "That and Princess Henrietta mentioned you previously. Logically speaking, you being Cardinal Marazini is the most likely outcome."
"I see," the man nodded thoughtfully. I looked over toward the girl in question. There was a brief flash on her face that I could barely make out. Disappointment? "You are correct. I am indeed Cardinal Marazini."
"It is an honor to meet you then sir," I took a deep nod. Sure, I wasn't going to kneel, but I was going to be respectful, at minimum.
"Thank you," he said. "But before we continue, there is a little problem that needs to be taken care of."
He pulled out a wand, and waved it briefly, to no, real effect. "That should fix our little communication problem for the future."
His voice had gone from a faint accent to being clear as day English.
"A translation spell?" I muttered, mostly to myself. Why hadn't the Princess cast a similar spell? Was it simply a more advanced spell? Or did it have something to do with her summoning me? "Thank you. That is very kind of you."
"Indeed. Henrietta said you wanted to go home, correct?" My ears quickly perked up. This quickly?
"That is correct," I leaned forward, hoping for good news.
"There are reports throughout Halkegenia's history of objects, sometimes even people, being pulled to our world from another," he said, fingers crossed. "However, many of these are allegedly tied to astrological events, and if these go both ways, we have never seen any proof of such."
That was. News.
"So they're tied to things like solar and lunar eclipses," something that yes, did have patterns, but had a significant amount of time between them, and only occurred for a short while. "And you have no way of knowing if the door even opens from this side."
I scowled.
"I mean, a door can be busted down if one has enough strength, or if one simply uses a key they can unlock it," I thought out loud. The door was open when it transported the goods, meaning a two-way trip was hypothetically possible. Risky, but possible. And it wasn't like someone was going to know when a portal on Earth would open either, if it was tied to astrological events on this side.
Plus, Earth was a big place. Halkegenia probably was too. There were a lot of places a portal could appear. Of course, there was the problem of time. Was it desynchronized?
"Blunt, and perhaps inelegant, but that is true fornon-magicall doorways," Cardinal Marazini's words reminded me of the other factor in play. Magic. These portals or transports might have been even on ground level. Easily accessible. But rather, up in the sky. So unless an aircraft came over and someone maintained it, I might be out of luck anyway.
"Plus, it isn't a guarantee that those are linked to where I'm from, either," I said, shaking my head. Out of one frying pan and onto the stovetop. Or possibly the inferno. "I mean, if there are two worlds, why could there not be more?"
"That is, something I did not consider," Cardinal Marazini frowned, scratching his chin. "I will do some research on the matter, then. I'm busy, and don't think I can promise much, however."
"That's fine, Cardinal Marazini. I'm not going to ask for certainties for things completely out of your hands," I did my best to smile, despite everything. "The fact you're willing to help me means a lot."
"And then there was the thing you were talking about, with your, mammary," Henrietta spoke at last, stammering over the last word. Agnes, to her credit, had the poker face of a God, as Marazini gave me a strange look.
"Yes, the fact this isn't the body I had before I got summoned is going to be another complicating factor," I groaned, resting my hands against my face. "But that's only going to be a problem when I get to that bridge."
If I get there.
"Interesting," Cardinal Marazini gave me a hesitant look. "I've never heard of a spell that does something like that. Ones that can change one's appearance, maybe, but usually an illusion, and they aren't this, persistent. They're typically tied to magical artifacts as well."
"It might be the time of day. Usually, the Familiar Summoning Ritual happens during the day, or perhaps there is more to the spell than we know. It was devised by the Founder himself, after all," Cardinal Marazini said. Founder? That had to be a person of fairly important, if not religious significance. "On that note, I do have a request from you."
"Yes?" I asked cautiously.
"When you go out in public, please wear a pair of gloves at all times," his words were serious, but that was. Not a request I saw coming.
"Can I ask why?" It was a small thing to ask, but it had taken me off guard. "I understand it's a minor thing, but I'm curious as to why."
"That is because the rune on your hand is very similar to one of the Rune's found on one the Familiars of Brimir," Henrietta gasped, hands going to her mouth in shock. "Otherwise known as the Founder. While many Bishops would be able to realize, while close, others are less informed, and could attempt to hurt the Princess as a result."
"That's more than understandable, Cardinal Marazini. I'll do everything in my power to remember that," I nodded. Yeah, I wasn't wholly buying that excuse. Oh, there was absolutely no doubt in my mind that Marazini wasn't lying about how the Princess could be in danger. That made perfect sense, even if he wasn't lying.
But the rune on the back of my hand just so happened to look close enough to an important religious figure that it could be mistaken for the same one? Yeah, I'm internally calling that out. Externally? I had no proof other than vibes and the simple fact that sounded incredibly suspicious and deflective. Since this guy was clearly an important individual regardless of further context, I was going to keep my mouth shut until I had proof. Proof and enough contextual information to make a judgment call or not on whether or not the good Cardnal's caution was warranted.
"In the meanwhile, it would be best to come up with a disguise, or at least an explanation for your presence," Cardinal Marazini said. "A human familiar is not something I've heard of before, and it attracts unwanted attention either way. Unless there is someplace else you'd rather be?"
I paused at the option. The offer was clear. If I didn't want to stay, I didn't need to. However, that was not so straightforward. Sure, a translation spell was worth its weight in gold, especially if it stuck around. That would be helpful in finding a job. But staying? Sure, I certainly could find work, I've worked in the customer service industry. But this was at minimum a roof over my head, even if I didn't stay here in this room, likely food, and working for the royal family had to pay decently, likely better than any job I could find outside the palace.
Sure, the man had to know that simple fact, that logically, this was the safest play I could make. But the option to be illogical was, appreciated.
"Thank you, but I'd rather stay here as is," I said. Facing facts, I wasn't exactly in a position where I wanted to take risks. I could scarcely say I was, pleased with things, but it wasn't like that would change either. I was stuck, and staying put was the safest option. And it had the most concentration of resources in helping me get back home. Henrietta smiled, leaping across from one coach onto me, as Cardinal Marazini shook his head, though he had a slight grin on his face.
"I could try for one of the guards," I said, not bothering to resist Henrietta. "Or failing that, one of the servants around the palace. Both would give me excuses to be close."
"An excellent idea!" Cardinal Marazini smiled, standing up. "I will take my leave. I'm sure you'll be able to sort things out between the three of you."
Agnes opened the door for him, and she grinned, an expression that sent chills down my spine. "I should be able to evaluate if you're up to the task of being a guard."
My body was going to be a bruise by the end of the day, wasn't it?
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Chapter 3
"Catch," was all the warning I got. I managed to grab the wooden sword by the hilt before it collided with my face. We were somewhere on the castle grounds. It was fairly small, in comparison to what I'd seen so far. That wasn't saying much, though, as there were several large trees around us, almost a wooded sanctuary built into the Palace itself.
Several weapon racks lined an inner perimeter, somewhat hidden. Most of the weapons were constructed of wood, but a few had metal ends. Surrounded by the tallest trees, was a dirt circle, standing out against the grass.
For the moment, it was just Agnes and myself. Henrietta, Princess Henrietta, I mentally corrected, had broken off to do something.
I took a few practice swings with the sword, keeping it in a firm, two-handed grip. A few basic sets of swings. Oh, I was years out of practice. And that implied I was particularly practiced to start with.
"Your feet are too close together," Agnes spoke, keeping her respective training sword in a loose, one-handed grip. I shifted my feet, spreading them out more as I took another swing at the air.
"Thank you," I simply said, as Agnes continued to observe me. One might criticize me for showing off in front of the person I was about to fight, but wasn't the skill gap obvious? The amount of time I've spent holding a wooden sword, much less a real one, could probably count in a single day, into a second if I was feeling generous. And what little practice I had was coated in nearly a half-decade of rust and grime.
When I had thrown the offers out, I was spitballing. Throwing out suggestions and finding what stuck. And it wasn't like I was anymore or less qualified to be a maid, or butler either. What was my closest equivalent to that line of work? Working as a grocery store sacker? Outside of faking basic niceties, there weren't much of a lot of transferable skills on that front.
But I might as well try. I wasn't counting on much, but the Runes on the back of my hand might do something. They had to be there for a reason. Yeah, yeah, it's real life, but it didn't need to be about narrative tropes. This was a sign of something. A human being the result of a summoning ritual sounded rare. Not as rare as the good Cardinal wanted us to think it was, but rare enough that he was able to get everyone to believe that this was a first-time-in-history sort of deal.
That was something to look into. Later.
Did this translation spell allow me to read, by any chance? I was going to have to test that one out for myself. Reading was pretty fun for me, and there was only so much you could learn about a place and why it was the way it was just by talking to people. Sometimes people just didn't know the answer through no fault of their own.
"Sorry, I'm late. I wanted to slip into something a little more appropriate," I turned to look at the source of the voice, before blinking. It was practically a suit of armor missing all but the helmet.
"Isn't that uncomfortable? I asked, taken by surprise. And shouldn't it have made a whole lot more noise as well? How was she able to keep quiet until she was right on top of us?
"Not really," Henrietta blushed slightly. "I'm used to it is all."
Used to it. Right. Add Henrietta to the list of people I'm never going to arm wrestle. Suddenly, a gleam appeared in the young woman's eye.
"I'm so sorry, but we haven't asked you what your name is yet!" Henrietta said. "We should correct this at once!"
That was a fair point. An oversight to be sure, but given the chaos, it wasn't like there had been a whole lot of time to devote to basic pleasantries. I went to open my mouth but paused.
My name was very much a guy's name. It wasn't one of those unisex names, and I was regretting my parent's choice of conventions, no matter how proud of it I was. Going by that name would draw attention, especially if I wasn't disguising myself as a guy.
"What? You don't have names where you're from?" I sent Agnes a glare. I already knew I was in for a physical beating when it came from her. I didn't need any further help in developing a grudge against someone who was one way or another, a possible coworker.
"No, it's just that calling me by my name going to draw a lot of unwanted attention. It's not a name that can be applied to either," I scowled. I mean, a female version of my name, was that even possible? I mean, Isabella was close, but Issac was closer to being the male version of that name than mine was.
"Well, we can't just call you nothing at all," Henrietta pouted. "It's disrespectful."
"Besides it can't be that bad," Agnes shrugged, my glare passing over her like water on a rock.
I rolled my eyes, telling them. They both stared back, giving me a confused look.
"That'd be a strange name, even if you were a guy," Agnes responded first, somewhat amused.
"Agnes!" Henrietta sounded aghast at the comment, even though I could tell she was judging.
"It's traditional Irish," I crossed my arms, doing my best not to huff in frustration. Of course, they didn't have Ireland here in this world, even if Henrietta was a name that faintly tickled at the back of my mind, like a scratch that I couldn't quite itch. "Can we just, put a pin in it for the time being? I'll try and come up with something in the meantime."
I didn't like having to toss my name aside, but at the moment, it was best that this whole from another-world business be kept to as few people as possible. For pragmatism's sake.
"Fine. Let's just get this over with" Agnes said, taking a few steps into the dirt circle. I mimicked her, keeping an even spacing. Henrietta let out a small little sigh of, was it envy, before stepping near the edge of the circle.
"The first to three hits wins," she paused for a moment. "And don't try to hurt each other too badly."
I had a feeling Agnes was the target for that remark.
"Begin!"
Agnes didn't waste a single second, closing the distance and thrusting forward. I parried, barely, deflecting the blow away before it could connect, before swiping with my sword, hitting nothing but air.
I barely managed to dodge the follow-up, the blade cutting through the air, missing by mere centimeters. Agnes gave me no tip to recover, forcing me on the defensive with a brutal series of thrusts, each clack of wood on wood sending tremors up my arms as I was already struggling to keep my guard up.
I pushed forward, trying to interrupt the attacks with a horizontal slash, one Agnes easily blocked. Despite me being able to leverage both my arms with my grip, Agnes was able to keep my weapon locked in place with only one of hers.
"You haven't dropped your sword yet," Agnes spoke as if she wasn't in a sword fight at all. Was she even sweating? "That's a better showing than I thought I'd get."
I felt anger begin to boil up inside me. Agnes was playing with me. This wasn't a fight, not for her. This was a joke, not even a warm-up for her. I wasn't being taken with any degree of seriousness at all.
Which is why I forced down that anger, smothering it. Agnes was trying to get a rise out of me. I was already out-skilled, understrength, and outsmarted when it came to the blade. Getting mad would just make me reckless, causing me to make more mistakes than I already was.
"Thanks! I'm doing better than I thought I would, too," I tried to smile back, before letting out a gasp of pain as Agnes's fist drove into my gut. Her sword came down on my shoulder, a light tap in comparison.
"Don't talk unless you have a plan," Agnes criticized, going back into a casual fighting stance. I scowled, moving my hand away from where she punched me. The pain was starting to dull already, but there was no doubt in my mind it was going to bruise.
I just needed to stay calm. That's the only way I had even a ghost of a chance. Quite frankly, I'd consider it a win if I managed to score a single hit by the time she got to three. And she already had one point.
I took a fighting stance, sword held tightly in my hands. Just one point. That's all I'd be happy with. Just a single one.
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Everywhere hurt. Sweat ran down my face, getting into my eyes, the salt causing pain. I just wanted to land a single hit. But I hadn't even managed to touch the slightest bit of her clothes.
I shouldn't be surprised by the poor performance, but it still stung anyway. I knew Agnes beat me out in experience, but the gulf between us was a chasm.
"Not the worst performance I've ever seen," Agnes said critically. "But also far from even a low standard."
"You have some form of training, but it's clearly both something you never practiced much, and you practiced too long ago for anything beyond the barest basics to stick. Your stance is inconsistent, you telegram your swings too much, and you overextend your reach the majority of the time, leaving yourself open. Your entire style, and calling it such is me being generous, can be described as leaving yourself open," Agnes scowled, the message being sent loud and clear.
"And still not the worst display you've ever seen?" I did my best to take Agnes's words in stride. It wasn't like she was wrong. I had little idea how to fight with a sword, and she had been toying with me the whole time. If I were to join any guard group, I'd need to know how to fight. Guarding the Princess, or the royal family in general, was a position that demanded skill and competence in equal measure.
Not to mention loyalty. How many Roman Emperors had lost their thrones to backstabbing ambitious guards?
"That is not saying much," Agnes replied tersely. Not exactly. All it meant is she ran into people who were somehow less capable than I was. Which, given that humans could be humans, wasn't saying a whole lot.
"I was more expecting stories, actually," I shrugged, stretching out my body as it groaned in protest.
"No," she said simply, placing her wooden weapon back on the training rack. "Now ten laps around the path. The entire path."
My muscles let their protest to such an order be known, but I could barely stop the grin from growing on my face. A run? I did those just about every day. Sure two miles wasn't a whole lot, but it helped keep me active. Meaning this was something I could succeed at.
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Sweat poured down my face as the sun continued to bombard me with its oppressive rays of heat. I was still making good time, at least I thought I was. Not much worse than how fast I usually ran, at least.
But I was going to need water sooner or later. Anything to keep me hydrated would be greatly appreciated right now. Something besides my sweat. I didn't need any more salt in my system.
I kept a good, constant pace as I came around the bend, feet aching. It felt good to run the stress out, even if I didn't have any good running shoes on. Sure, I'd managed to trade my shoes for something that would take the hits better, but I was used to running shoes.
But alas packing my bags hadn't exactly been an option. Nor was how far I could run comfortably the real point. Rather, it was a matter of how long I could run, and possibly how far, if they knew how long this makeshift track was. Sure, I wasn't trained to run a marathon, but I ran on a nearly daily basis, so it wasn't like I would be out of shape.
Agnes was testing my endurance. Thanks to my daily runs, I wasn't going to be bad at it. But there was a difference between regular exercise, and having a soldier's fitness. That would be true pretty much regardless of Era.
I haven't exactly been counting the number of times I've gone around, either. Probably about ten or so, by this point. It wasn't like the general area was big, either. More of an indoor garden, just without a glass ceiling, or anything else above. But no, just an outdoor training area, built into the castle. I wanted to ask why. It was unlikely to be a well-hidden secret, either.
"That should be enough," I heard Agnes say over the sound of my own feet. I wanted to continue, if simply out of spite. I could go for a few more laps, but everything was a test. Agnes wasn't just testing me on how well I could do physically, but also on how well I could listen to orders.
Was I sure where Agnes fell in the chain of command, or even if she technically was a part in the first place? No. But unless she asked me to do something criminal, there wouldn't be a whole lot of resisting for me. Asking questions would simply invite more work. Actual complaints, even more so.
I came to a stop, breathing deeply as I slowly walked in a circle, helping my body cool off. If only I could get a towel to eliminate all this sweat. I'd use my shirt, but parts of it were also drenched. Already. Usually, I'd just throw it in a washing machine, but that was not an option anymore.
Ignoring the fact I didn't like to go shirtless even before. Now, it just went from an I don't want to, to probably some type of public decency violation. I wasn't going to risk that.
"Hungry?" Henrietta asked, smiling. My stomach rumbled against my wishes, bringing a blush to my face. But it wasn't like I'd skipped past breakfast already, and everything that entailed.
"Yes, I am," I said, lowering myself to sit on the grass. "And thirsty." Something was needed to replace all the water I was expending. Despite the heat radiating off my body from the physical workout making me not want to eat, did I have a choice? I needed calories and water, badly.
"Do you think you can tell us about where you're from?" Henrietta asked innocently. I gave a brief moment of pause.
"Sure," I said and simply began to talk.
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"It contextualizes a few things," Agnes admitted, watching the person Henrietta had summoned as she ran her way through the exercises, barely passing on stubbornness alone. She had seen far worse displays of physical activity, yes, but at the same time, they were far from the minimal standard. But with what they'd told Henrietta and herself, it started to make sense.
The world they had been summoned from was vastly different. There was no magic, meaning nobles and monarchs, at least, in a form easily recognizable, did not hold much in the way of power. Technology ruled the day, at least, in the part of the world this particular person was used to. It seemed outlandish, and yet, she hadn't sensed a single lie.
"But she's trying her best," Henrietta protested, as Agnes felt the need to rub her forehead.
"Henrietta, you are more qualified and capable than she is," Agnes said, trying to put things as bluntly as possible. Though that wasn't exactly fair, as Agnes knew that Henrietta, so long as magic wasn't involved, could beat more than a fair share of younger members of the guard in a fight as well, but she needed to beat into Henrietta's head just how underqualified her familiar was for such a task.
It was clear to Agnes the summoned person had at least, a faint degree of training, and wasn't a lost cause. But it would take a considerable amount of time to bring them up to even a minimal standard. Placing them immediately in a position they were very clearly underprepared for was simply asking for trouble. Trouble that wouldn't be worth it by any stretch of the imagination. Keeping a low profile was the best option for now. And appointing someone to a position they weren't qualified for was the exact opposite of that.
"Can you at least try with one of the muskets? She might know how to use those," Henrietta begged as Agnes suppressed the urge to scowl. It had to be this one out of all the jobs she could have taken. Sure, their guest had admitted their grandfather had taught them how to shoot, but given how their world was supposedly more technologically advanced, that might not be the lifeline Henrietta was hoping it was.
"I'll consider it," Agnes said simply, with Henrietta hugging her. The things she had to do for this job. Agnes didn't think it would work, but it was better than the alternative of Henrietta sneaking off and getting herself hurt. Or worse.
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I looked at the gun Agnes held in her hands. I'd spend the entire day running, doing pushups, situps, everything. My body was sore and tired, and my muscles were already planning an overthrow of the rest of my body.
By this point, I was completely and utterly exhausted.
As for the firearm itself? It was old. Very old. Well, by my standards, anyway. It either dated to around the American Revolution or the Civil War. I wasn't exactly a gun expert. Point was, it was some type of musket, and I had no idea how to fire one. And that was certainly what Agnes wanted me to do, based on how she had dragged me to what could pass off as an old gun range.
"You know this gun is old enough to be considered a family heirloom where I'm from, right?" I said, looking at the weapon incredulously. Outside of the basic rules of gun safety, and that pulling the trigger made it fire, I had no idea how to use the thing.
"Just, try, alright?" Agnes unamused by this either, rubbed her hand against her forehead. Something was frustrating the woman, and I doubt it was a lack of effort. Sure, I'd embarrassed myself plenty today, but I at least tried.
"Fine," I mumbled, picking up the pouch of bullets and gunpowder. I wasn't going to point the weapon at anything I didn't intend to hit anyway, plus or minus the broadside of a barn. I strapped both onto my person, before my fingers wrapped around the gun barrel, lifting it up. Was this thing even loaded? Unlikely, as that simply was poor firearm safety. But you always treat a gun as if it's been loaded. Even if you knew for certain it hadn't.
It wasn't, however. I could feel that it wasn't. The barrel was empty, with no powder, nor bullet, to be found within.
How did I know that? I didn't have any idea. I just simply did.
Three targets were in front of me, and I needed to hit all three. How do I even load this weapon in the first place? I didn't know. But my body did.
My body was on autopilot. As if it knew every step of the process. Powder. Bullet. Target.
The smell of gunpowder filled my nose, and yet I stopped myself from choking. Straw exploded off the target. A hit, though not the center of mass. Reload, next target. Correct. Another blast of straw, this one closer to the center. Correct. Reload. Center of mass.
Three shots. Three hits.
Then the autopilot came to a screeching halt, and I nearly gasped, precise knowledge filtering out of my mind. I felt, winded, even more so than I had during all of today. My knees quaked as if they were struggling to keep me standing.
What just happened? How did I? I placed the firearm down carefully, before turning to Agnes, who wore a face of utter shock. Not that I could blame her. I was just as surprised as she was.
"How?" Agnes said, slackjawed, as I shrugged. That was new. I'd never done anything like that before. Even with a more modern weapon, with a scope, I still had issues hitting the broad side of a barn from the inside.
"I don't know. It's just as much of a surprise to me," my voice sounded hoarse. I'd already felt as if I'd run a marathon, and this was nearly adding a second lap on top of that.
"I guess the question is if you can recreate that with other weapons," Agnes gave me a look, one that crossed curiosity with something much more predatory. "We need to spare again using real swords."
"That sounds like a terrible idea," I muttered, even if she did raise a good point. Could it be recreated? Was it just guns? What were the conditions? The limits? Without a doubt, whatever that was, was useful. No doubt. But how far did it go?
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"We stop when you want to stop, or first blood," Agnes said, holding her sword. Henrietta stood off to the side, looking somewhat nervous. The sword in my hands felt heavier, this time one made of metal, rather than wood. Both my hands firmly gripped the leather-wrapped hilt. Normally, this would make me nervious. I'd never handled a real word in my life. But Agnes?
She had been onto something. The sword was heavier, and it felt heavier. But at the same time, it felt lighter, as if I had the strength to use such a weapon.
"Ready when you are," I said, firmly keeping my ground, Agnes taking the opportunity to begin. She opened with a thrust, exactly like our first match, but this time, I prayed the strike with ease, my body flowing like water as I retaliated. Agnes skillfully blocked, dodged, and weaved her way through my strikes, before launching her counterattack. I was forced on the defensive, blocking and dodging several strikes, before slashing. Agnes backstepped out of harm's way, and get I advanced, trying to back her into a corner.
We traded blows, attacking in blocking in turn, as each of us tried to reach an advantage. Though I already knew what Agnes's was. Time. And I think she knew so, too. I was tired. I'd been physically active the entire day, something Agnes knew. Sure, this new power of mine was putting gas in the tank. But I was burning through fuel faster than it could be added. I could already feel my muscles scream at me, even though whatever it was giving me the boost. I wasn't going to be able to hold out for long at this rate.
If I was going to win, I was going to need to win fast.
Which meant attacking.
I threw a series of blows toward Agnes, hoping to break my way through her guard. Unfortunately, Agnes was still my superior, deflecting and dodging her way through my attacks as I burned through more and more energy, despite my muscles screaming in protest. We looked blades, Agnes giving me a toothy grin, before punching me in the gut.
At the same time, my foot connected with her stomach. While Agnes's punch hurt, my kick created space, and it knocked the wind out of her lungs. I tried to close the range to take advantage of the opening, as I could tell I was just about on my last legs, but Agnes recovered quickly. One thrust was all I needed. Just one, small cut. I brought my sword back.
Only to feel a sting of pain on my cheek.
By seconds, Agnes beat me to it, landing first blood. I stopped my attack, as that would be poor sportsmanship, and let myself fall backward as the power receded. And once it was gone, every part of my body felt as if it was on fire. Everything hurt, all the way down to my toes, and my heart was pounding against my ribcage like a chest burster.
"Are, you okay?" Henrietta looked down at me, concerned.
"Just, give me a minute. Give my body enough time to figure out if it wants to combust or not," I muttered, trying to take my mind off the pain.
"You might want to find a better place to lie down. It may be a scratch, but you don't want that to get infected," Agnes offered me a hand up, with I reluctantly took. Not because she was wrong, but because the cool dirt felt nice. I needed a shower. Or a bath. Or both.
"Does that mean she passes?" Henrietta clapped her hands together excitedly.
Agnes and I had the same response.
"Absolutely not!"
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"It's going to draw too much attention," I explained, as Henrietta pouted. I'm not sure why she thought that would help her get her way, but I wasn't budging on the matter. And neither was Agnes. "The disparity is simply too great and draws way too much attention."
"But then just keep a weapon on you," Henrietta said, still not happy.
"It seems to only work if I'm holding it. And something easy to hide, like a knife, if dangerous to run with," I didn't say for myself or anyone around me, but having a weapon during physical exercise training would draw a different type of attention. Not to mention having a real weapon during a fake weapon spare would also be suspicious.
"Henrietta, we both agree it would be best to wait until they're skilled enough to join legitimately, to avoid suspicion. And I think the Cardinal would back us on such a decision as well," Agnes said, wrapping a special healing bandage around her stomach. I had one to match, as the punches Agnes left there had already started to bruise, but I'd returned the favor. The cut on my face was also bandaged. Frankly, I could probably play it up.
Henrietta looked like she wanted to protest, but finally seemed to give up.
"So your second plan is to join in the servants at the castle, right? I could train you up in the meantime," Agnes offered.
"Yes, and thank you for your offer. I'm more than willing to accept," I had no intention of turning aside additional help. If I could bring myself without this ability to something of partiality, there was no telling what I could do with it. "Plus, the wounds might help me sell a sob story as cover."
Agnes seemed to smirk at the comment, as if getting thanked for beating someone up was a funny concept to her.
"Well, at least I get to see you in a maid uniform now," Henrietta said.
Oh.
I did not think that through as well as I thought I had.
Several weapon racks lined an inner perimeter, somewhat hidden. Most of the weapons were constructed of wood, but a few had metal ends. Surrounded by the tallest trees, was a dirt circle, standing out against the grass.
For the moment, it was just Agnes and myself. Henrietta, Princess Henrietta, I mentally corrected, had broken off to do something.
I took a few practice swings with the sword, keeping it in a firm, two-handed grip. A few basic sets of swings. Oh, I was years out of practice. And that implied I was particularly practiced to start with.
"Your feet are too close together," Agnes spoke, keeping her respective training sword in a loose, one-handed grip. I shifted my feet, spreading them out more as I took another swing at the air.
"Thank you," I simply said, as Agnes continued to observe me. One might criticize me for showing off in front of the person I was about to fight, but wasn't the skill gap obvious? The amount of time I've spent holding a wooden sword, much less a real one, could probably count in a single day, into a second if I was feeling generous. And what little practice I had was coated in nearly a half-decade of rust and grime.
When I had thrown the offers out, I was spitballing. Throwing out suggestions and finding what stuck. And it wasn't like I was anymore or less qualified to be a maid, or butler either. What was my closest equivalent to that line of work? Working as a grocery store sacker? Outside of faking basic niceties, there weren't much of a lot of transferable skills on that front.
But I might as well try. I wasn't counting on much, but the Runes on the back of my hand might do something. They had to be there for a reason. Yeah, yeah, it's real life, but it didn't need to be about narrative tropes. This was a sign of something. A human being the result of a summoning ritual sounded rare. Not as rare as the good Cardinal wanted us to think it was, but rare enough that he was able to get everyone to believe that this was a first-time-in-history sort of deal.
That was something to look into. Later.
Did this translation spell allow me to read, by any chance? I was going to have to test that one out for myself. Reading was pretty fun for me, and there was only so much you could learn about a place and why it was the way it was just by talking to people. Sometimes people just didn't know the answer through no fault of their own.
"Sorry, I'm late. I wanted to slip into something a little more appropriate," I turned to look at the source of the voice, before blinking. It was practically a suit of armor missing all but the helmet.
"Isn't that uncomfortable? I asked, taken by surprise. And shouldn't it have made a whole lot more noise as well? How was she able to keep quiet until she was right on top of us?
"Not really," Henrietta blushed slightly. "I'm used to it is all."
Used to it. Right. Add Henrietta to the list of people I'm never going to arm wrestle. Suddenly, a gleam appeared in the young woman's eye.
"I'm so sorry, but we haven't asked you what your name is yet!" Henrietta said. "We should correct this at once!"
That was a fair point. An oversight to be sure, but given the chaos, it wasn't like there had been a whole lot of time to devote to basic pleasantries. I went to open my mouth but paused.
My name was very much a guy's name. It wasn't one of those unisex names, and I was regretting my parent's choice of conventions, no matter how proud of it I was. Going by that name would draw attention, especially if I wasn't disguising myself as a guy.
"What? You don't have names where you're from?" I sent Agnes a glare. I already knew I was in for a physical beating when it came from her. I didn't need any further help in developing a grudge against someone who was one way or another, a possible coworker.
"No, it's just that calling me by my name going to draw a lot of unwanted attention. It's not a name that can be applied to either," I scowled. I mean, a female version of my name, was that even possible? I mean, Isabella was close, but Issac was closer to being the male version of that name than mine was.
"Well, we can't just call you nothing at all," Henrietta pouted. "It's disrespectful."
"Besides it can't be that bad," Agnes shrugged, my glare passing over her like water on a rock.
I rolled my eyes, telling them. They both stared back, giving me a confused look.
"That'd be a strange name, even if you were a guy," Agnes responded first, somewhat amused.
"Agnes!" Henrietta sounded aghast at the comment, even though I could tell she was judging.
"It's traditional Irish," I crossed my arms, doing my best not to huff in frustration. Of course, they didn't have Ireland here in this world, even if Henrietta was a name that faintly tickled at the back of my mind, like a scratch that I couldn't quite itch. "Can we just, put a pin in it for the time being? I'll try and come up with something in the meantime."
I didn't like having to toss my name aside, but at the moment, it was best that this whole from another-world business be kept to as few people as possible. For pragmatism's sake.
"Fine. Let's just get this over with" Agnes said, taking a few steps into the dirt circle. I mimicked her, keeping an even spacing. Henrietta let out a small little sigh of, was it envy, before stepping near the edge of the circle.
"The first to three hits wins," she paused for a moment. "And don't try to hurt each other too badly."
I had a feeling Agnes was the target for that remark.
"Begin!"
Agnes didn't waste a single second, closing the distance and thrusting forward. I parried, barely, deflecting the blow away before it could connect, before swiping with my sword, hitting nothing but air.
I barely managed to dodge the follow-up, the blade cutting through the air, missing by mere centimeters. Agnes gave me no tip to recover, forcing me on the defensive with a brutal series of thrusts, each clack of wood on wood sending tremors up my arms as I was already struggling to keep my guard up.
I pushed forward, trying to interrupt the attacks with a horizontal slash, one Agnes easily blocked. Despite me being able to leverage both my arms with my grip, Agnes was able to keep my weapon locked in place with only one of hers.
"You haven't dropped your sword yet," Agnes spoke as if she wasn't in a sword fight at all. Was she even sweating? "That's a better showing than I thought I'd get."
I felt anger begin to boil up inside me. Agnes was playing with me. This wasn't a fight, not for her. This was a joke, not even a warm-up for her. I wasn't being taken with any degree of seriousness at all.
Which is why I forced down that anger, smothering it. Agnes was trying to get a rise out of me. I was already out-skilled, understrength, and outsmarted when it came to the blade. Getting mad would just make me reckless, causing me to make more mistakes than I already was.
"Thanks! I'm doing better than I thought I would, too," I tried to smile back, before letting out a gasp of pain as Agnes's fist drove into my gut. Her sword came down on my shoulder, a light tap in comparison.
"Don't talk unless you have a plan," Agnes criticized, going back into a casual fighting stance. I scowled, moving my hand away from where she punched me. The pain was starting to dull already, but there was no doubt in my mind it was going to bruise.
I just needed to stay calm. That's the only way I had even a ghost of a chance. Quite frankly, I'd consider it a win if I managed to score a single hit by the time she got to three. And she already had one point.
I took a fighting stance, sword held tightly in my hands. Just one point. That's all I'd be happy with. Just a single one.
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Everywhere hurt. Sweat ran down my face, getting into my eyes, the salt causing pain. I just wanted to land a single hit. But I hadn't even managed to touch the slightest bit of her clothes.
I shouldn't be surprised by the poor performance, but it still stung anyway. I knew Agnes beat me out in experience, but the gulf between us was a chasm.
"Not the worst performance I've ever seen," Agnes said critically. "But also far from even a low standard."
"You have some form of training, but it's clearly both something you never practiced much, and you practiced too long ago for anything beyond the barest basics to stick. Your stance is inconsistent, you telegram your swings too much, and you overextend your reach the majority of the time, leaving yourself open. Your entire style, and calling it such is me being generous, can be described as leaving yourself open," Agnes scowled, the message being sent loud and clear.
"And still not the worst display you've ever seen?" I did my best to take Agnes's words in stride. It wasn't like she was wrong. I had little idea how to fight with a sword, and she had been toying with me the whole time. If I were to join any guard group, I'd need to know how to fight. Guarding the Princess, or the royal family in general, was a position that demanded skill and competence in equal measure.
Not to mention loyalty. How many Roman Emperors had lost their thrones to backstabbing ambitious guards?
"That is not saying much," Agnes replied tersely. Not exactly. All it meant is she ran into people who were somehow less capable than I was. Which, given that humans could be humans, wasn't saying a whole lot.
"I was more expecting stories, actually," I shrugged, stretching out my body as it groaned in protest.
"No," she said simply, placing her wooden weapon back on the training rack. "Now ten laps around the path. The entire path."
My muscles let their protest to such an order be known, but I could barely stop the grin from growing on my face. A run? I did those just about every day. Sure two miles wasn't a whole lot, but it helped keep me active. Meaning this was something I could succeed at.
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Sweat poured down my face as the sun continued to bombard me with its oppressive rays of heat. I was still making good time, at least I thought I was. Not much worse than how fast I usually ran, at least.
But I was going to need water sooner or later. Anything to keep me hydrated would be greatly appreciated right now. Something besides my sweat. I didn't need any more salt in my system.
I kept a good, constant pace as I came around the bend, feet aching. It felt good to run the stress out, even if I didn't have any good running shoes on. Sure, I'd managed to trade my shoes for something that would take the hits better, but I was used to running shoes.
But alas packing my bags hadn't exactly been an option. Nor was how far I could run comfortably the real point. Rather, it was a matter of how long I could run, and possibly how far, if they knew how long this makeshift track was. Sure, I wasn't trained to run a marathon, but I ran on a nearly daily basis, so it wasn't like I would be out of shape.
Agnes was testing my endurance. Thanks to my daily runs, I wasn't going to be bad at it. But there was a difference between regular exercise, and having a soldier's fitness. That would be true pretty much regardless of Era.
I haven't exactly been counting the number of times I've gone around, either. Probably about ten or so, by this point. It wasn't like the general area was big, either. More of an indoor garden, just without a glass ceiling, or anything else above. But no, just an outdoor training area, built into the castle. I wanted to ask why. It was unlikely to be a well-hidden secret, either.
"That should be enough," I heard Agnes say over the sound of my own feet. I wanted to continue, if simply out of spite. I could go for a few more laps, but everything was a test. Agnes wasn't just testing me on how well I could do physically, but also on how well I could listen to orders.
Was I sure where Agnes fell in the chain of command, or even if she technically was a part in the first place? No. But unless she asked me to do something criminal, there wouldn't be a whole lot of resisting for me. Asking questions would simply invite more work. Actual complaints, even more so.
I came to a stop, breathing deeply as I slowly walked in a circle, helping my body cool off. If only I could get a towel to eliminate all this sweat. I'd use my shirt, but parts of it were also drenched. Already. Usually, I'd just throw it in a washing machine, but that was not an option anymore.
Ignoring the fact I didn't like to go shirtless even before. Now, it just went from an I don't want to, to probably some type of public decency violation. I wasn't going to risk that.
"Hungry?" Henrietta asked, smiling. My stomach rumbled against my wishes, bringing a blush to my face. But it wasn't like I'd skipped past breakfast already, and everything that entailed.
"Yes, I am," I said, lowering myself to sit on the grass. "And thirsty." Something was needed to replace all the water I was expending. Despite the heat radiating off my body from the physical workout making me not want to eat, did I have a choice? I needed calories and water, badly.
"Do you think you can tell us about where you're from?" Henrietta asked innocently. I gave a brief moment of pause.
"Sure," I said and simply began to talk.
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"It contextualizes a few things," Agnes admitted, watching the person Henrietta had summoned as she ran her way through the exercises, barely passing on stubbornness alone. She had seen far worse displays of physical activity, yes, but at the same time, they were far from the minimal standard. But with what they'd told Henrietta and herself, it started to make sense.
The world they had been summoned from was vastly different. There was no magic, meaning nobles and monarchs, at least, in a form easily recognizable, did not hold much in the way of power. Technology ruled the day, at least, in the part of the world this particular person was used to. It seemed outlandish, and yet, she hadn't sensed a single lie.
"But she's trying her best," Henrietta protested, as Agnes felt the need to rub her forehead.
"Henrietta, you are more qualified and capable than she is," Agnes said, trying to put things as bluntly as possible. Though that wasn't exactly fair, as Agnes knew that Henrietta, so long as magic wasn't involved, could beat more than a fair share of younger members of the guard in a fight as well, but she needed to beat into Henrietta's head just how underqualified her familiar was for such a task.
It was clear to Agnes the summoned person had at least, a faint degree of training, and wasn't a lost cause. But it would take a considerable amount of time to bring them up to even a minimal standard. Placing them immediately in a position they were very clearly underprepared for was simply asking for trouble. Trouble that wouldn't be worth it by any stretch of the imagination. Keeping a low profile was the best option for now. And appointing someone to a position they weren't qualified for was the exact opposite of that.
"Can you at least try with one of the muskets? She might know how to use those," Henrietta begged as Agnes suppressed the urge to scowl. It had to be this one out of all the jobs she could have taken. Sure, their guest had admitted their grandfather had taught them how to shoot, but given how their world was supposedly more technologically advanced, that might not be the lifeline Henrietta was hoping it was.
"I'll consider it," Agnes said simply, with Henrietta hugging her. The things she had to do for this job. Agnes didn't think it would work, but it was better than the alternative of Henrietta sneaking off and getting herself hurt. Or worse.
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I looked at the gun Agnes held in her hands. I'd spend the entire day running, doing pushups, situps, everything. My body was sore and tired, and my muscles were already planning an overthrow of the rest of my body.
By this point, I was completely and utterly exhausted.
As for the firearm itself? It was old. Very old. Well, by my standards, anyway. It either dated to around the American Revolution or the Civil War. I wasn't exactly a gun expert. Point was, it was some type of musket, and I had no idea how to fire one. And that was certainly what Agnes wanted me to do, based on how she had dragged me to what could pass off as an old gun range.
"You know this gun is old enough to be considered a family heirloom where I'm from, right?" I said, looking at the weapon incredulously. Outside of the basic rules of gun safety, and that pulling the trigger made it fire, I had no idea how to use the thing.
"Just, try, alright?" Agnes unamused by this either, rubbed her hand against her forehead. Something was frustrating the woman, and I doubt it was a lack of effort. Sure, I'd embarrassed myself plenty today, but I at least tried.
"Fine," I mumbled, picking up the pouch of bullets and gunpowder. I wasn't going to point the weapon at anything I didn't intend to hit anyway, plus or minus the broadside of a barn. I strapped both onto my person, before my fingers wrapped around the gun barrel, lifting it up. Was this thing even loaded? Unlikely, as that simply was poor firearm safety. But you always treat a gun as if it's been loaded. Even if you knew for certain it hadn't.
It wasn't, however. I could feel that it wasn't. The barrel was empty, with no powder, nor bullet, to be found within.
How did I know that? I didn't have any idea. I just simply did.
Three targets were in front of me, and I needed to hit all three. How do I even load this weapon in the first place? I didn't know. But my body did.
My body was on autopilot. As if it knew every step of the process. Powder. Bullet. Target.
The smell of gunpowder filled my nose, and yet I stopped myself from choking. Straw exploded off the target. A hit, though not the center of mass. Reload, next target. Correct. Another blast of straw, this one closer to the center. Correct. Reload. Center of mass.
Three shots. Three hits.
Then the autopilot came to a screeching halt, and I nearly gasped, precise knowledge filtering out of my mind. I felt, winded, even more so than I had during all of today. My knees quaked as if they were struggling to keep me standing.
What just happened? How did I? I placed the firearm down carefully, before turning to Agnes, who wore a face of utter shock. Not that I could blame her. I was just as surprised as she was.
"How?" Agnes said, slackjawed, as I shrugged. That was new. I'd never done anything like that before. Even with a more modern weapon, with a scope, I still had issues hitting the broad side of a barn from the inside.
"I don't know. It's just as much of a surprise to me," my voice sounded hoarse. I'd already felt as if I'd run a marathon, and this was nearly adding a second lap on top of that.
"I guess the question is if you can recreate that with other weapons," Agnes gave me a look, one that crossed curiosity with something much more predatory. "We need to spare again using real swords."
"That sounds like a terrible idea," I muttered, even if she did raise a good point. Could it be recreated? Was it just guns? What were the conditions? The limits? Without a doubt, whatever that was, was useful. No doubt. But how far did it go?
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"We stop when you want to stop, or first blood," Agnes said, holding her sword. Henrietta stood off to the side, looking somewhat nervous. The sword in my hands felt heavier, this time one made of metal, rather than wood. Both my hands firmly gripped the leather-wrapped hilt. Normally, this would make me nervious. I'd never handled a real word in my life. But Agnes?
She had been onto something. The sword was heavier, and it felt heavier. But at the same time, it felt lighter, as if I had the strength to use such a weapon.
"Ready when you are," I said, firmly keeping my ground, Agnes taking the opportunity to begin. She opened with a thrust, exactly like our first match, but this time, I prayed the strike with ease, my body flowing like water as I retaliated. Agnes skillfully blocked, dodged, and weaved her way through my strikes, before launching her counterattack. I was forced on the defensive, blocking and dodging several strikes, before slashing. Agnes backstepped out of harm's way, and get I advanced, trying to back her into a corner.
We traded blows, attacking in blocking in turn, as each of us tried to reach an advantage. Though I already knew what Agnes's was. Time. And I think she knew so, too. I was tired. I'd been physically active the entire day, something Agnes knew. Sure, this new power of mine was putting gas in the tank. But I was burning through fuel faster than it could be added. I could already feel my muscles scream at me, even though whatever it was giving me the boost. I wasn't going to be able to hold out for long at this rate.
If I was going to win, I was going to need to win fast.
Which meant attacking.
I threw a series of blows toward Agnes, hoping to break my way through her guard. Unfortunately, Agnes was still my superior, deflecting and dodging her way through my attacks as I burned through more and more energy, despite my muscles screaming in protest. We looked blades, Agnes giving me a toothy grin, before punching me in the gut.
At the same time, my foot connected with her stomach. While Agnes's punch hurt, my kick created space, and it knocked the wind out of her lungs. I tried to close the range to take advantage of the opening, as I could tell I was just about on my last legs, but Agnes recovered quickly. One thrust was all I needed. Just one, small cut. I brought my sword back.
Only to feel a sting of pain on my cheek.
By seconds, Agnes beat me to it, landing first blood. I stopped my attack, as that would be poor sportsmanship, and let myself fall backward as the power receded. And once it was gone, every part of my body felt as if it was on fire. Everything hurt, all the way down to my toes, and my heart was pounding against my ribcage like a chest burster.
"Are, you okay?" Henrietta looked down at me, concerned.
"Just, give me a minute. Give my body enough time to figure out if it wants to combust or not," I muttered, trying to take my mind off the pain.
"You might want to find a better place to lie down. It may be a scratch, but you don't want that to get infected," Agnes offered me a hand up, with I reluctantly took. Not because she was wrong, but because the cool dirt felt nice. I needed a shower. Or a bath. Or both.
"Does that mean she passes?" Henrietta clapped her hands together excitedly.
Agnes and I had the same response.
"Absolutely not!"
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"It's going to draw too much attention," I explained, as Henrietta pouted. I'm not sure why she thought that would help her get her way, but I wasn't budging on the matter. And neither was Agnes. "The disparity is simply too great and draws way too much attention."
"But then just keep a weapon on you," Henrietta said, still not happy.
"It seems to only work if I'm holding it. And something easy to hide, like a knife, if dangerous to run with," I didn't say for myself or anyone around me, but having a weapon during physical exercise training would draw a different type of attention. Not to mention having a real weapon during a fake weapon spare would also be suspicious.
"Henrietta, we both agree it would be best to wait until they're skilled enough to join legitimately, to avoid suspicion. And I think the Cardinal would back us on such a decision as well," Agnes said, wrapping a special healing bandage around her stomach. I had one to match, as the punches Agnes left there had already started to bruise, but I'd returned the favor. The cut on my face was also bandaged. Frankly, I could probably play it up.
Henrietta looked like she wanted to protest, but finally seemed to give up.
"So your second plan is to join in the servants at the castle, right? I could train you up in the meantime," Agnes offered.
"Yes, and thank you for your offer. I'm more than willing to accept," I had no intention of turning aside additional help. If I could bring myself without this ability to something of partiality, there was no telling what I could do with it. "Plus, the wounds might help me sell a sob story as cover."
Agnes seemed to smirk at the comment, as if getting thanked for beating someone up was a funny concept to her.
"Well, at least I get to see you in a maid uniform now," Henrietta said.
Oh.
I did not think that through as well as I thought I had.
Chapter 4
To Louise de la Vallieire,
I hope this letter reaches you in good health and cheer. I know you completed the summoning ritual recently and must be very busy with schoolwork. However, I feel it is prudent to inform you that I succeeded in summoning a familiar. As such, I cannot thank you enough for your aid in this endeavor. Truly.
As for my familiar? They are, strange. I'm unsure of how much detail I can go into with this letter sadly. Cardinal Marazini wants this kept on the quiet side of things. But how could I keep such a secret from you? For all the help you gave me, I feel like I must tell you the truth. I owe you that much, at the very least.
However, I would like for you to meet them someday soon. At your convenience, of course. I do think you'll get along with them just fine. I even think Agnes is taking a shine to them (but don't tell her I said that).
I won't try to keep you from your studies for long. I just wanted to let you know that your help was a great success!
Thank you once again from the bottom of my heart,
Henrietta de Tristian
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Louise looked down at the letter. She was surprised and quite pleased. Louise had always known Henrietta was a mage. Nobody had listened to her, and now she had proved them wrong. A familiar was the ultimate sign of a mage. Nobility didn't tend to summon them, but Louise figured her plan would work all the same.
But the Princess's letter raised several questions. Why was Cardinal Marazini keeping things hidden? And why was Henrietta being so vague?
Could it be some rare or exotic familiar? One they didn't want having attention drawn to it? Like a Rhyme Dragon? Yes, that had to be it. It had to be something strange and exotic, something that if the average person would know, it would be dangerous to the Princess. That had to be the reason.
She would have to come to see this familiar. It wasn't as if Henrietta was giving her an open invitation to do so. At her convenience, of course. Louise would love to do nothing more than clear her schedule and fly up to the palace this very minute, but at the moment, she had classes for a few more days. And the show for newly summoned familiars was approaching as well. She had to come up with some type of plan for that.
It wasn't like she was going to get second place or anything. Nobody had summoned a familiar as majestic as her wind dragon, after all. But why leave a competition to chance? She'd go up to the capital once she had a routine down for it.
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I sniffled, resisting the urge to rub my nose. Damn dust. Given the size of this palace, there was always going to be some form of dust, mess, or just things in need of cleaning. Nor was I far from the only maid. From cooking to cleaning, there were probably more than a hundred servants in the castle. Some of us carried out our duty in the open, while the others had different, subtler, but no less important tasks.
Which, as a new maid, I was not trusted to do yet. Perfectly fair, in my mind, even if Henrietta wanted me closer. But working up to that position is something I'd rather earn, if only for the sake of my own stubbornness and pride.
Still, the deal was decent, for medieval standards. A day off a week, decent pay, doubly so given a roof, and food was provided as part of the package. And a decent amount of work to help keep my mind off things.
Work that felt like it was both too much and insufficient, all at the same time. Of course, there were other downsides. Henrietta, as it turned out, was a bit of an oddity. She treated people without magic, or commoners, with plenty of respect. That was not a common treat, as it turned out. Most just ignored us, but more than a few had no problem trying to find their way into various servant girls and their pants.
I hadn't seen a case personally, especially of someone willing to use far less, charming, measures to get what they want. But I wouldn't be surprised if there had been even worse acts than what I'd heard. Power was a drug, and not a pleasant one, either.
Thankfully, I'd avoided attracting anyone's attention so far. Which was a bit odd. Yeah, I wasn't some statuesque stunner or anything like that, but I wouldn't consider how I looked right now unattractive. A bit shorter than Agnes and Henrietta, though not by much. My chest, now that I had to look at the clothes that weren't baggy, was probably modest.
Though given how most people in this world had a chest size that was yes or no, with very little middle ground? With the overall answer leaning toward yes?
But that was mostly a hypothetical problem. As more or less a new hire, I was stuck with several of the younger maids, those still in their teenage years. And the youth of the hypothetical yesteryear was weird. Not so much that they wanted to talk about guys a whole lot, that was something I don't think ever changed.
It was just, I don't know. Gossipy? Chatty? Maybe it was just me and my social skills not being up to snuff, but I didn't understand it. And why did it let two girls continue to whisper like I wasn't just a few feet away? If you're going to ask me a question, then ask it, please.
I largely ignored it, as it was just them going 'You ask her, no, you ask her', over and over again. If they were too busy fighting each other over who was the one to ask the question, then odds are, it was a question they knew I wouldn't like. And if they weren't going to ask, then I had no reason to try and make them. No matter how curious I was.
There was a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye, reminding me of my second, problem? No, problem was far too harsh of a word. More like, recurrence. Henrietta's very own mini-me.
Not that I'd call either of them that to their respective faces. Crown Princess Minette was a spitting image of her older sister but certainly didn't have the personality to match. While I'd heard a few of the older maids talk about the things Henrietta got up to with her only playmate, those stories were spoken in a considerably different tone than when they were talking about Minette.
By every account I'd heard, the young Princess could, if she wanted to be, especially in front of polite company. Other times, she could be a complete and utter hellion. Pranks, messes, all sorts of chaos.
Yet I hadn't seen a single case of such mayhem. Though that was because a decent part of her day was spent, seemingly observing me. If it wasn't for training, I'd see more of Minette than I did Henrietta. Which made me nervous. Sure, I hadn't seen her do anything, but reputations did exist for a reason.
Still, until something did happen, there wasn't a whole lot I could do. Approaching her might work, or it could cause her to do something, nor was I entirely sure about the proper protocol in situations like this. I was, by definition, a commoner, after all, as much as I would love nothing more to pitch the concept of nobility into a fire. But that wasn't exactly a practical solution.
All I could do was wait this out and hope that things didn't end up with me getting pranked, and try to avoid any fallout if I did.
"Aimee, I was wondering," I almost didn't respond to the girl's voice, nearly forgetting the name I'd picked out for myself. I turned my head to face her. Laura, I think she was. She was close to a decade my junior, and it showed in most ways. "Who in the Griffin Corps do you think is the most Handsome?"
I gave her a look, raising my eyebrow slightly. Still, her eyes are begging for an answer.
"No," I said simply, returning to my work. This was already a dumb conversation I had no interest in having. No matter how much Laura wanted me to.
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That hadn't worked either. Many of the younger maids had no problem revealing who they wanted to sweep them off their feet, whisk them away from a life of toll. Especially amongst themselves, when they thought they were amongst themselves, or that nobody could hear them.
So why was Aimee so tight-lipped? Minette pouted, despite it not being a proper expression. There had to be someone she was interested in. But she refused to talk about such matters, much like many of the older maids would.
And the arrival of the young woman was weird. They missed her in the confusion, barely, but it was her sister and Agnes that dragged her in. She was too far away to hear anything, even with her magic, but she did see it, in the faint moonlight. Aimee couldn't be interested in her sister, right?
She couldn't let that happen! The last time Henrietta was interested in someone, she got hurt really, really bad!
She could do something to drive Aimee away. It wouldn't take a whole lot to mess with her. But what would Henrietta say if she found out? Her sister was smart. Smarter than she gave herself credit for some days. But other days she could be really, really stupid. Like with Prince Wales, their cousin.
But Aimee wasn't a cousin. She didn't seem weird or creepy like the prince had. What if she was better than the prince?
What if Henrietta had found another rare someone who cared about her, and all she did was drive them away? Henrietta would be devastated by such an event. But at the same time, she needed to know if Aimee was a good person, or was simply good at hiding things.
She didn't talk about where she was from, for starters. Her hair was almost blonde, and her eyes were almost blue. An offshoot of the Tudor line, maybe a child born out of a relationship with a commoner? No, that couldn't be it. Besides, cousins were mean. No more of those.
Aimee didn't talk about who she liked either. Getting her to fess up to any feelings about any guy or girl felt impossible. She may have been at the same starting level as some of the younger maids, but she was a lot more mature.
Maybe she was going about this the wrong way? Maybe Aimee would be more comfortable talking about such things with someone her age or older? Minette frowned, recalling the duplicate she had delicately crafted. It was not quite as good as the one she had seen Viscount Wardes use, but the fact it had come this far was a matter of pride.
Still, she'd need to keep an eye on Aimee. Not until she knew for sure what her intentions and relationship with big sis were. And that Aimee wouldn't hurt Henrietta in the slightest.
Minette didn't want anything like that to happen ever again.
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"I think I've figured out what your problem is," Agnes said, as we traded swings with the practice swords, wood cracking against wood.
"And that is?" I gritted my teeth, blocking a swing.
"You think too much," her answer was straightforward, blunt, and as if to prove a point, she landed a blow on my arm. I hissed slightly from the pain. It wouldn't bruise, I didn't think. Not this time, but that might start becoming a problem sooner rather than later. Looking like I'd been beaten was not a good thing, and would lead to questions. Given how I wanted to avoid questions already, that was, not great.
"I, can see that," I said softly. With whatever power it was that I had, swords frankly ended up being the worst weapon for me. Strangely did best with weapons I had no idea how to use. Spears, axes, all the way up to firearms. This power was like an autopilot, but instead of a plane, it was weapons. I wasn't sure why though. If it was about improving skill, then a sword should be my best weapon. But instead, it was among my worst.
"And it's not just limited to that power of yours. You think too much with practice weapons as well," Agnes continued. Again, she wasn't wrong. I did have a tendency to mull things over far longer than necessary.
"And how exactly do I fix that?" I asked, taking a loose fighting stance as we began to circle one another once again.
"Focus. Discipline. Fighting isn't about instinct, but you must learn to read your opponent, from how they hold their stance, to how they're placing their shoulders, and from there, know what exactly to expect. It is a learned skill of prediction, one you must make at quick speeds or, you will lose your life," Agnes's swing came in fast and powerful, with me managing to block the blow. "Take note of how I swung. Where were my feet? Where were my shoulders? These are the signs you must learn to pick up on if you wish to be successful in combat."
"As for how you learn such skills? Practice," Agnes continued. "The only way you will improve is by practicing. Yes, you have bad habits, bad habits that will need to be broken, but the latest way to learn is through experience."
I blocked a thrust, throwing out a slash of my own. Agnes avoided the blow, launching another series of thrusts. I dodged and blocked my way through the assault.
"Another thing is that you can be forced on the defensive far too easily, while also being much too aggressive," Agnes continued her critique. "You have very little middle ground between your offense and defense. Sometimes the best offense is a good defense, while other times, the best defense is a good offense."
I advanced, trying to disrupt Agnes's offense with one of my own, only to be pushed back. Agnes was more than capable of being able to beat me back with trivial ease. As much knowledge could be gleaned from defeat, it was still frustrating. Like beating your head against a Dark Souls boss, or any game made by Fromsoft, really.
Expect this time, there was no health bar to measure progress. Just a solid brick wall that I wasn't going to be overcoming anytime soon. Thinking of Agnes as some type of Fromsoft boss was weird, but whatever, I guess. It's already been established that she could beat me until I was nothing more than a screaming bruise. Sorry, whatever magic I was on helped me bridge the gap by no small margin, but that was when and only when I was able to take advantage of it.
"We'll run through some basic drills next," Agnes said, still not breaking a single ounce of sweat, as if the effort bored her. "Afterwards, metal weapons."
"Which one?" I ask, already taking a stance.
"Your choice," Agnes said, a slight grin on her face. Great. That meant she already figured out what I would be picking, and prepared accordingly.
"You can do it!" I heard Henrietta cheer. It was nice that one person had some degree of faith in my abilities.
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Viscount Wardes watched from his vantage point. Nobody had seen him, and he intended to keep it that way. While he wasn't doing anything wrong per say, he did wish to know more about this strange new girl. The turnaround in Henrietta's mood was notable, and the fact it seemed to be tied to what appeared to be a new maid. That hadn't been a coincidence, even if most didn't care to put everything together.
Henrietta hadn't been this happy, or appeared in such good cheer for a while now. Not since her relationship with Prince Wales Tudor ended in disaster. He'd only had a little information about what happened. But if what he had heard was true, then the boy deserved far worse than the stringing up the Albionese Rebels would give him. It was a bit harsh of him to think in such a manner, but that boy had done a considerable amount of damage. Henrietta may not have been able to use magic, like most royals, but she was a kind person who deserved much better. But fairy tale romances were sadly, just that.
Louise, the daughter of his former mentor, had at least tried to help pick up the pieces in the aftermath, but she didn't have a complete picture of what went wrong. The Royal Family had been tight-lipped on exactly what happened, so it was unlikely that Louise even had part of the picture. Still, bless her heart, she did try. Even Minette tried, in her own special way, to help her sister.
But nothing had worked. Not entirely. Not until now.
Hence his immense interest in this stranger. He hoped it hadn't been some ill-conceived romantic trist. The last one ended in disaster, so why would Henrietta ever go for another? With a commoner girl as well? At least one could see the relationship with the Tudor boy as trying to make an alliance during trying times. With a commoner, many nobles would be far less willing to look the other way.
Never mind that several nobles he knew had little issue bedding commoner women, seducing then throwing them aside when they've had their fun. The hypocrisy for such judgments would be lost on many of his peers.
Thankfully, based on his observations, this is unlikely to be the case. An odd friendship, yes, but that appeared to be as far as things went.
And Henrietta truly could use more of those. Louise was doing her best, but distance would forever remain a problem until she graduated. Agnes, while closer physically, was trying to do her job first and foremost. And while Minette was trying her best, the crown Princess was only six. This was outside of her experience.
Having someone who wasn't torn up after her husband's death to talk to could prove help for Henrietta.
However, that was far from the only reason he had made such a journey. The young woman was interesting in her way, and rumors, at least this time, had proven correct.
Wardes watched as the wooden sword tumbled through the air, almost wincing slightly. Agnes outpaced the girl by an almost insurmountable advantage of skill. There was no shame in that, even if he had heard that the strange woman was able to keep pace.
A tall tale, given how skilled Agnes was, and he shouldn't be surprised it was false, but at the same time, he was a bit, for lack of a better word, disappointed. It would give him someone new to spar, and that was always exciting. He turned to leave before he noticed something. Agnes was heading towards the steel swords. Why? The balance was better, yes, but Agnes had shown she was capable of winning. What purpose did using steel serve?
This was not like the last duel between the two. Agnes pulled her punches then, and now, it was a much more even fight. Agnes and the maid danced in a flurry of blades.
Wardes felt his eyes widen. He could scarcely believe what he was seeing, but see it he was. How had this new maid from losing to Agnes handily, to making Agnes break a sweat? How was that even possible?
It shouldn't be. It defies all reason. Better with a real sword over a practice one? That, he can believe, but this was far too much to be that.
It was then he made it out. Frankly, at this distance, he shouldn't have been able to spot it, but in the evening light, he just managed to make out a faint, glowing mark on the back of the young woman's left hand.
He left then and there. He couldn't make out the marking that lay beneath the glove, but it didn't matter. The woman was a familiar. Of that, Wardes was fairly certain. The question remained. Whose familiar was she? Was she summoned by Tristian's void mage?
Or was Albion's void mage making their opening move?
I hope this letter reaches you in good health and cheer. I know you completed the summoning ritual recently and must be very busy with schoolwork. However, I feel it is prudent to inform you that I succeeded in summoning a familiar. As such, I cannot thank you enough for your aid in this endeavor. Truly.
As for my familiar? They are, strange. I'm unsure of how much detail I can go into with this letter sadly. Cardinal Marazini wants this kept on the quiet side of things. But how could I keep such a secret from you? For all the help you gave me, I feel like I must tell you the truth. I owe you that much, at the very least.
However, I would like for you to meet them someday soon. At your convenience, of course. I do think you'll get along with them just fine. I even think Agnes is taking a shine to them (but don't tell her I said that).
I won't try to keep you from your studies for long. I just wanted to let you know that your help was a great success!
Thank you once again from the bottom of my heart,
Henrietta de Tristian
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Louise looked down at the letter. She was surprised and quite pleased. Louise had always known Henrietta was a mage. Nobody had listened to her, and now she had proved them wrong. A familiar was the ultimate sign of a mage. Nobility didn't tend to summon them, but Louise figured her plan would work all the same.
But the Princess's letter raised several questions. Why was Cardinal Marazini keeping things hidden? And why was Henrietta being so vague?
Could it be some rare or exotic familiar? One they didn't want having attention drawn to it? Like a Rhyme Dragon? Yes, that had to be it. It had to be something strange and exotic, something that if the average person would know, it would be dangerous to the Princess. That had to be the reason.
She would have to come to see this familiar. It wasn't as if Henrietta was giving her an open invitation to do so. At her convenience, of course. Louise would love to do nothing more than clear her schedule and fly up to the palace this very minute, but at the moment, she had classes for a few more days. And the show for newly summoned familiars was approaching as well. She had to come up with some type of plan for that.
It wasn't like she was going to get second place or anything. Nobody had summoned a familiar as majestic as her wind dragon, after all. But why leave a competition to chance? She'd go up to the capital once she had a routine down for it.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
I sniffled, resisting the urge to rub my nose. Damn dust. Given the size of this palace, there was always going to be some form of dust, mess, or just things in need of cleaning. Nor was I far from the only maid. From cooking to cleaning, there were probably more than a hundred servants in the castle. Some of us carried out our duty in the open, while the others had different, subtler, but no less important tasks.
Which, as a new maid, I was not trusted to do yet. Perfectly fair, in my mind, even if Henrietta wanted me closer. But working up to that position is something I'd rather earn, if only for the sake of my own stubbornness and pride.
Still, the deal was decent, for medieval standards. A day off a week, decent pay, doubly so given a roof, and food was provided as part of the package. And a decent amount of work to help keep my mind off things.
Work that felt like it was both too much and insufficient, all at the same time. Of course, there were other downsides. Henrietta, as it turned out, was a bit of an oddity. She treated people without magic, or commoners, with plenty of respect. That was not a common treat, as it turned out. Most just ignored us, but more than a few had no problem trying to find their way into various servant girls and their pants.
I hadn't seen a case personally, especially of someone willing to use far less, charming, measures to get what they want. But I wouldn't be surprised if there had been even worse acts than what I'd heard. Power was a drug, and not a pleasant one, either.
Thankfully, I'd avoided attracting anyone's attention so far. Which was a bit odd. Yeah, I wasn't some statuesque stunner or anything like that, but I wouldn't consider how I looked right now unattractive. A bit shorter than Agnes and Henrietta, though not by much. My chest, now that I had to look at the clothes that weren't baggy, was probably modest.
Though given how most people in this world had a chest size that was yes or no, with very little middle ground? With the overall answer leaning toward yes?
But that was mostly a hypothetical problem. As more or less a new hire, I was stuck with several of the younger maids, those still in their teenage years. And the youth of the hypothetical yesteryear was weird. Not so much that they wanted to talk about guys a whole lot, that was something I don't think ever changed.
It was just, I don't know. Gossipy? Chatty? Maybe it was just me and my social skills not being up to snuff, but I didn't understand it. And why did it let two girls continue to whisper like I wasn't just a few feet away? If you're going to ask me a question, then ask it, please.
I largely ignored it, as it was just them going 'You ask her, no, you ask her', over and over again. If they were too busy fighting each other over who was the one to ask the question, then odds are, it was a question they knew I wouldn't like. And if they weren't going to ask, then I had no reason to try and make them. No matter how curious I was.
There was a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye, reminding me of my second, problem? No, problem was far too harsh of a word. More like, recurrence. Henrietta's very own mini-me.
Not that I'd call either of them that to their respective faces. Crown Princess Minette was a spitting image of her older sister but certainly didn't have the personality to match. While I'd heard a few of the older maids talk about the things Henrietta got up to with her only playmate, those stories were spoken in a considerably different tone than when they were talking about Minette.
By every account I'd heard, the young Princess could, if she wanted to be, especially in front of polite company. Other times, she could be a complete and utter hellion. Pranks, messes, all sorts of chaos.
Yet I hadn't seen a single case of such mayhem. Though that was because a decent part of her day was spent, seemingly observing me. If it wasn't for training, I'd see more of Minette than I did Henrietta. Which made me nervous. Sure, I hadn't seen her do anything, but reputations did exist for a reason.
Still, until something did happen, there wasn't a whole lot I could do. Approaching her might work, or it could cause her to do something, nor was I entirely sure about the proper protocol in situations like this. I was, by definition, a commoner, after all, as much as I would love nothing more to pitch the concept of nobility into a fire. But that wasn't exactly a practical solution.
All I could do was wait this out and hope that things didn't end up with me getting pranked, and try to avoid any fallout if I did.
"Aimee, I was wondering," I almost didn't respond to the girl's voice, nearly forgetting the name I'd picked out for myself. I turned my head to face her. Laura, I think she was. She was close to a decade my junior, and it showed in most ways. "Who in the Griffin Corps do you think is the most Handsome?"
I gave her a look, raising my eyebrow slightly. Still, her eyes are begging for an answer.
"No," I said simply, returning to my work. This was already a dumb conversation I had no interest in having. No matter how much Laura wanted me to.
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That hadn't worked either. Many of the younger maids had no problem revealing who they wanted to sweep them off their feet, whisk them away from a life of toll. Especially amongst themselves, when they thought they were amongst themselves, or that nobody could hear them.
So why was Aimee so tight-lipped? Minette pouted, despite it not being a proper expression. There had to be someone she was interested in. But she refused to talk about such matters, much like many of the older maids would.
And the arrival of the young woman was weird. They missed her in the confusion, barely, but it was her sister and Agnes that dragged her in. She was too far away to hear anything, even with her magic, but she did see it, in the faint moonlight. Aimee couldn't be interested in her sister, right?
She couldn't let that happen! The last time Henrietta was interested in someone, she got hurt really, really bad!
She could do something to drive Aimee away. It wouldn't take a whole lot to mess with her. But what would Henrietta say if she found out? Her sister was smart. Smarter than she gave herself credit for some days. But other days she could be really, really stupid. Like with Prince Wales, their cousin.
But Aimee wasn't a cousin. She didn't seem weird or creepy like the prince had. What if she was better than the prince?
What if Henrietta had found another rare someone who cared about her, and all she did was drive them away? Henrietta would be devastated by such an event. But at the same time, she needed to know if Aimee was a good person, or was simply good at hiding things.
She didn't talk about where she was from, for starters. Her hair was almost blonde, and her eyes were almost blue. An offshoot of the Tudor line, maybe a child born out of a relationship with a commoner? No, that couldn't be it. Besides, cousins were mean. No more of those.
Aimee didn't talk about who she liked either. Getting her to fess up to any feelings about any guy or girl felt impossible. She may have been at the same starting level as some of the younger maids, but she was a lot more mature.
Maybe she was going about this the wrong way? Maybe Aimee would be more comfortable talking about such things with someone her age or older? Minette frowned, recalling the duplicate she had delicately crafted. It was not quite as good as the one she had seen Viscount Wardes use, but the fact it had come this far was a matter of pride.
Still, she'd need to keep an eye on Aimee. Not until she knew for sure what her intentions and relationship with big sis were. And that Aimee wouldn't hurt Henrietta in the slightest.
Minette didn't want anything like that to happen ever again.
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"I think I've figured out what your problem is," Agnes said, as we traded swings with the practice swords, wood cracking against wood.
"And that is?" I gritted my teeth, blocking a swing.
"You think too much," her answer was straightforward, blunt, and as if to prove a point, she landed a blow on my arm. I hissed slightly from the pain. It wouldn't bruise, I didn't think. Not this time, but that might start becoming a problem sooner rather than later. Looking like I'd been beaten was not a good thing, and would lead to questions. Given how I wanted to avoid questions already, that was, not great.
"I, can see that," I said softly. With whatever power it was that I had, swords frankly ended up being the worst weapon for me. Strangely did best with weapons I had no idea how to use. Spears, axes, all the way up to firearms. This power was like an autopilot, but instead of a plane, it was weapons. I wasn't sure why though. If it was about improving skill, then a sword should be my best weapon. But instead, it was among my worst.
"And it's not just limited to that power of yours. You think too much with practice weapons as well," Agnes continued. Again, she wasn't wrong. I did have a tendency to mull things over far longer than necessary.
"And how exactly do I fix that?" I asked, taking a loose fighting stance as we began to circle one another once again.
"Focus. Discipline. Fighting isn't about instinct, but you must learn to read your opponent, from how they hold their stance, to how they're placing their shoulders, and from there, know what exactly to expect. It is a learned skill of prediction, one you must make at quick speeds or, you will lose your life," Agnes's swing came in fast and powerful, with me managing to block the blow. "Take note of how I swung. Where were my feet? Where were my shoulders? These are the signs you must learn to pick up on if you wish to be successful in combat."
"As for how you learn such skills? Practice," Agnes continued. "The only way you will improve is by practicing. Yes, you have bad habits, bad habits that will need to be broken, but the latest way to learn is through experience."
I blocked a thrust, throwing out a slash of my own. Agnes avoided the blow, launching another series of thrusts. I dodged and blocked my way through the assault.
"Another thing is that you can be forced on the defensive far too easily, while also being much too aggressive," Agnes continued her critique. "You have very little middle ground between your offense and defense. Sometimes the best offense is a good defense, while other times, the best defense is a good offense."
I advanced, trying to disrupt Agnes's offense with one of my own, only to be pushed back. Agnes was more than capable of being able to beat me back with trivial ease. As much knowledge could be gleaned from defeat, it was still frustrating. Like beating your head against a Dark Souls boss, or any game made by Fromsoft, really.
Expect this time, there was no health bar to measure progress. Just a solid brick wall that I wasn't going to be overcoming anytime soon. Thinking of Agnes as some type of Fromsoft boss was weird, but whatever, I guess. It's already been established that she could beat me until I was nothing more than a screaming bruise. Sorry, whatever magic I was on helped me bridge the gap by no small margin, but that was when and only when I was able to take advantage of it.
"We'll run through some basic drills next," Agnes said, still not breaking a single ounce of sweat, as if the effort bored her. "Afterwards, metal weapons."
"Which one?" I ask, already taking a stance.
"Your choice," Agnes said, a slight grin on her face. Great. That meant she already figured out what I would be picking, and prepared accordingly.
"You can do it!" I heard Henrietta cheer. It was nice that one person had some degree of faith in my abilities.
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Viscount Wardes watched from his vantage point. Nobody had seen him, and he intended to keep it that way. While he wasn't doing anything wrong per say, he did wish to know more about this strange new girl. The turnaround in Henrietta's mood was notable, and the fact it seemed to be tied to what appeared to be a new maid. That hadn't been a coincidence, even if most didn't care to put everything together.
Henrietta hadn't been this happy, or appeared in such good cheer for a while now. Not since her relationship with Prince Wales Tudor ended in disaster. He'd only had a little information about what happened. But if what he had heard was true, then the boy deserved far worse than the stringing up the Albionese Rebels would give him. It was a bit harsh of him to think in such a manner, but that boy had done a considerable amount of damage. Henrietta may not have been able to use magic, like most royals, but she was a kind person who deserved much better. But fairy tale romances were sadly, just that.
Louise, the daughter of his former mentor, had at least tried to help pick up the pieces in the aftermath, but she didn't have a complete picture of what went wrong. The Royal Family had been tight-lipped on exactly what happened, so it was unlikely that Louise even had part of the picture. Still, bless her heart, she did try. Even Minette tried, in her own special way, to help her sister.
But nothing had worked. Not entirely. Not until now.
Hence his immense interest in this stranger. He hoped it hadn't been some ill-conceived romantic trist. The last one ended in disaster, so why would Henrietta ever go for another? With a commoner girl as well? At least one could see the relationship with the Tudor boy as trying to make an alliance during trying times. With a commoner, many nobles would be far less willing to look the other way.
Never mind that several nobles he knew had little issue bedding commoner women, seducing then throwing them aside when they've had their fun. The hypocrisy for such judgments would be lost on many of his peers.
Thankfully, based on his observations, this is unlikely to be the case. An odd friendship, yes, but that appeared to be as far as things went.
And Henrietta truly could use more of those. Louise was doing her best, but distance would forever remain a problem until she graduated. Agnes, while closer physically, was trying to do her job first and foremost. And while Minette was trying her best, the crown Princess was only six. This was outside of her experience.
Having someone who wasn't torn up after her husband's death to talk to could prove help for Henrietta.
However, that was far from the only reason he had made such a journey. The young woman was interesting in her way, and rumors, at least this time, had proven correct.
Wardes watched as the wooden sword tumbled through the air, almost wincing slightly. Agnes outpaced the girl by an almost insurmountable advantage of skill. There was no shame in that, even if he had heard that the strange woman was able to keep pace.
A tall tale, given how skilled Agnes was, and he shouldn't be surprised it was false, but at the same time, he was a bit, for lack of a better word, disappointed. It would give him someone new to spar, and that was always exciting. He turned to leave before he noticed something. Agnes was heading towards the steel swords. Why? The balance was better, yes, but Agnes had shown she was capable of winning. What purpose did using steel serve?
This was not like the last duel between the two. Agnes pulled her punches then, and now, it was a much more even fight. Agnes and the maid danced in a flurry of blades.
Wardes felt his eyes widen. He could scarcely believe what he was seeing, but see it he was. How had this new maid from losing to Agnes handily, to making Agnes break a sweat? How was that even possible?
It shouldn't be. It defies all reason. Better with a real sword over a practice one? That, he can believe, but this was far too much to be that.
It was then he made it out. Frankly, at this distance, he shouldn't have been able to spot it, but in the evening light, he just managed to make out a faint, glowing mark on the back of the young woman's left hand.
He left then and there. He couldn't make out the marking that lay beneath the glove, but it didn't matter. The woman was a familiar. Of that, Wardes was fairly certain. The question remained. Whose familiar was she? Was she summoned by Tristian's void mage?
Or was Albion's void mage making their opening move?
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Chapter 5
"Things are proceeding as you designed, my master. The Loyalists are being pushed back, and soon their only stronghold will be their tomb. While our agents in Tristian have inserted themselves into many positions of power, the Queen is too busy mourning to notice our efforts and the Regent is unable to catch all of them."
"And of our agent, Fouquet? I do not believe we have gotten a report from her in some time."
I believe she has had some success stealing minor artifacts and our agents acquiring blackmail material. But she has yet to steal the Staff of Destruction, her main objective."
"If you need to, remind her, of who we have, and what happens if she fails, during your mission to Tristian, then I would see no issues."
"You are the most cruel, my master. And what should I do if she does fail?"
"If she fails to live up to the expectations she has set, then there would be no issue using her as an asset one last time. After all, where would you think they'd take one of the most famous theirs of our time if they were arrested? A mage of her capabilities would make for an excellent distraction, would she not?"
"So I have permission to use the ring, my master?"
"Within reason, yes. I'd rather avoid tipping too much of our hand so soon."
"Of course, my master."
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I was starting to get curious as to why there were so many vases and pots filled with water scattered throughout the castle. There had to be a reason for it. Some type of anti-fire system, perhaps? Water magic seemed like an effective solution to such measures, but I suppose it didn't hurt to have a backup plan.
Of course, in a world with magic, they could be signs of countless other things. Of what, I didn't know. Magic was completely out of my wheelhouse. I knew nothing of the specifics of how it worked, what rules it followed, and what its limits were. I'd learned about the basic elemental square of fire, earth, water, and wind, a nice little Avatar reference, only that a person could pick up all the other elements with skill and practice. But that was mostly through people talking about things around me when they think I couldn't hear them.
What? I was a maid. The amount of stuff you heard in an average day was, staggering. Nobody paid you any mind. You were just a servant, nobody important, who cared if you heard anything. The only thing that didn't make this fun was the complete lack of context I had for what I heard on an average day. This place leaked like a four-inch sieve some days!
Maybe that was just how medieval politics went. Either way, I don't think I'd heard anything all that interesting. Or all that dangerous for that matter. Well, nothing that was obviously dangerous, like plots to overthrow the Queen or things of that nature. Sure, she was, for better lack of a word, a mess, though that was a private thought, but regicide? That was something I'd blow the whistle on in a heartbeat.
Because it sounded like the international situation was an even hotter mess at the moment, and that wouldn't do anything to help stability. Plus, I doubt Henrietta would take having her mom die well. Most people don't, even if the relationship could be a bit, complicated. Plus, leaving the Kingdom to a child, one that would likely be depressed, even if the good Cardinal kept his position, wouldn't be great either.
But thankfully, I'd yet to hear any indication of such talk. There is probably a lot of corruption that should be tipped off to the proper people. Possibly corruption. I was, a bit unsure of if it was or not. By my standards, most likely, but I was from a completely different world, with largely different standards. It was best that I keep my head down, and don't stir things up. What I consider corruption might just be the norm. I wasn't familiar with how things worked in the period leading up to the industrial revolution, other than, expect murder in the court.
Things seemed more stable. Maybe this weird magistracy helped keep things stable? But I doubt it would last. The Industrial Revolution was likely inching its way forward, and all the social change that would bring with it. I might have been able to help get Tristian ahead of the curb. But I wasn't an engineer. Machines and all the necessary innovations that allowed the Industrial Revolution to happen weren't exactly part of my wheelhouse. I might be able to give pointers, such as building factories next to rivers until steam power took off, but beyond that?
Provided, you know, people listen to the weird servant girl. Which was not a given, thanks to the whole, nobles with magic thing. Henrietta probably would, and I'd probably talk about some of the things I heard from her at some point. I just needed to find the time. It wasn't like she had a lot of free time as Princess, I'd imagine. Even if she wasn't the crown Princess, there were probably a range of diplomatic functions and other important business she needed to deal with.
I let out a slight sigh, knowing nobody was around to hear the slight breach of propriety, as I watered the plant inside a beautiful vase. There were hundreds of these things, at least it felt like it, all about the castle. They were very pretty plants, too, with bright flowers. Either a gift from some far-off foreign country or something a bit more local. I had no way of really knowing which was the case.
Still, it was best to make sure all the plants got the necessary water. I know others were taking up the task as well, but that wasn't any excuse for me to slack off.
I took a step away from the vase, preparing to turn towards the door. Only for my back to hit something. My blood ran cold. I hadn't heard someone enter the room. Were they a Noble of some sort?
I turned around to apologize, only to find, nothing. There was no person standing behind me. That was strange. I could have sworn I'd bumped into something. Was it a ghost? I'd say that was impossible, but magic existed here, and so did things like griffins. Who was to say a ghost was far-fetched?
But would I have felt something physical? On Earth, the ghost hypothesis made that maybe, even at the best of times. But there was something there. A faint, nearly imperceptible flicker, that looked like it was fading in and out.
Okay, ghost or no ghost, that was probably a sign to leave. As in, right this very second. I immediately began heading towards the door, only to find something cold pressed against my throat. Fingers began to wrap their way around the back of my neck as I stood perfectly still.
Was I, going to die? Were they even speaking? Blood thundered in my ears and my heart beat like an engine. Think. Think! I needed to get whatever blade they were using away from my neck, then break their hold. Or was it to break their hold on the knife? I needed time, needed to think! I. I.
"Would you like paper or plastic?"
Oh God, those couldn't be my last words. I refuse to let those be my last words.
"What?" A voice said from behind me, grip loosening as I scanned the ground. That's, good enough, I suppose. I raised my foot, before stomping down. Hard.
The thing holding the back of my throat screamed in pain as my shoe found its foot, the blade falling away as I turned.
Objectively speaking, whoever or whatever they were, I was hopelessly outmatched. With a weapon, I could probably take them. But I didn't exactly have one of those on hand.
What I did have was a pitcher of water, a whole lot of adrenaline, and the element of surprise. And the ability to throw a punch.
"You little bitch! I would have left you alive," the voice, that of a man said, until the point where I'd cut him off. Smashing a pitcher against someone's face as hard as possible made it hard to talk.
If the first scream didn't tell somebody that something was going wrong, then the second certainly should have. Hopefully, that would get someone moving right along.
"You will die for that commoner," ice began to fill the room, even spreading out from the pitcher in my hand. I promptly lobbed it at the man, for all the good it would do. Of course, there would be magical assassins. Just my damn luck. Was there anything I could use, even as an impromptu weapon? The room was fairly bare. There wasn't much that could be useful. Except for a single spear.
It looked purely decorative, but what else was I supposed to do? Please let this work. Please let this work. I wrapped my fingers around the weapon.
Then the room exploded. The door came completely off its hinges, knocked aside by some type of weird, magical bullet. It caught the man by surprise as it impacted his chest, detonating in a windstorm that knocked me off my feet, tumbling against the tile floor. I tucked my head against my chest as I was sent rolling backward. Using the momentum, I slapped the ground with my arms, cutting most of the roll as I threw my legs over my shoulder, allowing what was left to carry me back onto my feet, if somewhat unsteadily.
Once my vision stopped spinning, I was able to look at what had happened. My assailant was slumped against the wall. He was, unconscious. Yeah, that was the case. Unconscious.
Standing in the middle of the room was a man, sword pointed towards the downed assassin. His hair was silver, almost grey, complete with a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. I couldn't get a good look at his eyes, but he wore a blue hat with a white feather in it. His outfit, outside of the black cape, was different shades of blue, from light to dark.
"Viscount Wardes!" in came soldiers wearing proper heavy armor, clanking reverberating off the walls. "We heard the commotion. What is going on here?"
"I believe one of the maids stumbled across an infiltrator and managed to distract him," the Viscount's voice was harsh, but there was an underlying smoothness to it. "He's injured, but alive. Take him to the dungeon and try and keep him that way. We'll need to find out why he is here, and who sent him."
"And what about the girl?" I'd long since slipped out of what could pass as a fighting stance, hoping to pass myself off as just a nervous and freaked-out member of the staff. Which, to be fair, wasn't going to be a hard sell.
Because holy shit, I nearly died! I. Nearly died. I could have died. I could have died so very, very easily right there. My breath hitched in my throat. I. I needed to breathe, needed to think, no not think. Breath. Just. Breath. In and out. In and out. I was alive. That was all that mattered.
"Are you okay?" the Viscount's voice broke through my thoughts, his eyes the same shade of silvery grey as his hair. He wasn't in my personal space, but I blushed all the same. In part, because I was embarrassed needing to be snapped out of my thoughts like that.
But also because he was, surprisingly handsome. Sure, he was probably several years my senior, based on the beard, but he wasn't exactly hard on the eyes, either.
"I'm unhurt, sir, if that is what you are asking," I said softly, shifting my feet. "I'm a bit shaken up is all. I'd, never experienced anything like that before."
"I see," the man paused for a moment. "May I ask exactly what happened? It might make explaining why this got a bit beat up a bit easier with the Head Maid."
A flick of his wand sword nearly made me flinch, as he levitated over the pitcher of water towards my hands. I winced, looking at it. The pitcher had no doubt seen better days, with the part I'd hit the man with bent completely out of shape, no part of the original surface remaining where it had been. Ice still covered the exterior, spikes of ice jutting through the metal, leaving everything but the handle irrecoverable. Maybe there was a magical fix?
"I was watering the plants, as instructed. As I finished, I bumped into someone, but I couldn't see anyone. When I was looking around, I saw something, flickering, near where I bumped into them. I went to leave, hoping to find someone, really, only for the man to hold a weapon to my throat," I started slowly, making sure to measure my words carefully. "He then held a weapon to my throat. I couldn't see what it was. It could have been a knife, but, I couldn't tell. He grabbed me by the back of my throat and, I think he might have said something, but I was scared. Panicking. If he did, I didn't hear it."
"I was panicking, and scared, and I didn't want him to kill me, so I stepped on his foot," I continued.
"You, stepped on his foot?" Viscount Wardes raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, sir. I think I was thinking that maybe, if I created enough noise, then maybe someone would rescue me," I said, still nervous. "Where you the one that created that wind?"
Was that the wrong question to ask? Was I even supposed to be asking questions like that?
"Indeed I am. Viscount Wardes, at your service," the man tipped his hat slightly, and this time I blushed for real. Shit. He's charming.
"Thank you for saving me," I bowed slightly.
"It is an honor. Though you have done the Kingdom a great service this day," Viscount Wardes returned the gesture, as I felt even more heat rise on my face. He was really charming. "Though I must ask, what happened after you stepped on his foot? I heard two yells of pain, and I don't think either came from you."
"I, panicked, and hit him in the face, with the pitcher," when I said it out loud, it sounded completely ridiculous. And yet, that was exactly what happened.
"I see," the tone of his voice sounded a bit, incredulous. Even if it was the truth. "Well, in that case."
He waved his wand, sword, thing, and the ice swiftly began to melt, as the pitcher began to return to its proper shape.
"I will make sure to tell the Head Maid about what has transpired, as well as the other necessary authorities. Aiding in the apprehension of an unknown infiltrator is no small feat. Thank you for your service, Miss," Viscount Wardes paused, asking for my name.
"Aimee, sir," I stubbled over the name, just about giving away my old one. Please let him interpret that as me being nervous about giving a noble my name.
"Aimee. I will try to remember that," the man nodded, heading towards the door. "And you can just call me Wardes if you wish."
"I, will try to remember that as well, Viscount Wardes," I tried to make myself sound as polite as possible. Viscount Wardes chuckled before he slipped out the door.
I looked down at the pitcher. Quite frankly, given what had happened, I would likely be able to wrangle my way into time off.
But that meant I'd have to think about what the absolute hell that was, and I'd rather not do that right now. So many people were going to get pissed off by this. I was supposed to lay low, not get into fistfights with magical, assassin, wizard, people. I mean, hopefully, Wardes would be willing to take most of the credit, because he was the one to do most of the work.
I made my way out the door. Work would help take my mind off things.
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That had proven, fairly unenlightening. Well, not entirely so. Aimee was incredibly polite, or at least was willing to behave as such. And if she was hostile then she was, at the very least, not working with whoever sent the assassin in the first place. That was something he would need to look into. If rebels were that assured in their victory, or this desperate to stir up trouble, then that was something to be addressed.
If not? Then there was likely a traitor, somewhere in Tristian. And that couldn't, and shouldn't, stand. Whoever sent him, Wardes needed to know. It could help determine who Aimee herself had been summoned by. Albion was fairly unlikely, now that he had given it some thought. But that could only mean one thing. Unless the Pope had sent their familiar, and she was the wrong gender for that, it meant that Tristian's void mage had summoned their familiar. But who was it? Henrietta seemed like an obvious choice, as she was around Aimee quite a bit, but that felt almost too straightforward of an answer.
Perhaps he had stepped in too soon? No, it wasn't worth it. Others had heard the fighting and were coming to investigate. This kept the secret of her skill just as hidden as it was before, and he would still be able to observe her.
He just hoped he was the only one who saw that whole fight.
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That's why big sis liked Aimee so much! She was some type of soldier maid or something! She just, beat up the int, intrud, the bad person! With nothing but a pitcher of water! She could have done it, but she was a water mage. Aimee?
Aimee was a commoner! Like Agnes! Agnes was good at keeping Henrietta safe. So that meant Aimee must have been like Agnes, but hidden. Hidden, but everyone could see her!
She should probably keep that revelation to herself. If that was what she was hired to do, then it would be best to not tell anyone. That would ruin the surprise, after all!
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"You!" Agnes pinched her brow. "At least you didn't get seriously hurt. You didn't get cut or stabbed, right?"
"As far as I can tell, no," I said, crossing my arms. "And before you say anything, my mother was a nurse. I know infections aren't something to mess around with."
"Or poison," Agnes said, and I paused. I hadn't considered that. Which made it a really good thing I double check to make sure I didn't get any scratches. I hadn't. Just bruises.
"Still checked," I grumbled, as Agnes just shrugged. Frankly, between the two of them, I'm not sure who was taking the news worse. Agnes or Henrietta. Okay, it was Henrietta. I wasn't exactly the strongest person in the world and had no shame in admitting that fact, but was starting to think Henrietta was strong enough to use me as a weight if she so desired. Her death grip around my midsection was both impressive and terrifying.
"One way or another, rumors are probably going to spread like wildfire, once this gets out, and it's only a matter of time it does," Agnes paced back and forth. I would have joined her, but I had a limpet currently attached to me.
"Plus Aimee needs a way to defend herself," Henrietta cut in, causing Agnes to turn around.
"Princess, I don't think maids are allowed to carry a knife capable of hurting someone outside of the kitchen," Agnes spoke calmly. "And knives are among the most concealable weapons out there. I don't see any way to amend the rules, either. Not after something like this. If simply out of the safety of you and your family."
"I know of one that's a bit more concealable, and not as deadly," I spoke up, their gaze turning towards me. "They're called brass knuckles. It's this band of metal that you can put your fingers through, and when you punch someone, you're hitting them with the metal, instead of the bones in your hand."
"That, sounds like an interesting idea," Agnes spoke first. "Though I've never heard of such a weapon."
"They aren't, particularly a soldier's weapon," I did know of some modification made a spike that saw use in trench warfare, but I wasn't looking for something with killing power. "They're more used when you need to hurt someone, rather than run the risk of letting them bleed out."
"Would it work with the runes?" Henrietta asked the question that was likely the first one on everyone's mind. And the answer was most likely.
"I wouldn't see why not, though I don't know if there are any blacksmiths that could make such equipment, and even if I could find one, you'd have to keep them hidden on your person," Agnes frowned. "Or just, hidden in general. I don't know what the reaction would be if you're discovered carrying those would be."
"I mean, we could lean into the rumors," I said, the two giving me confused looks. "Look, the cat's already out of the bag, and it's only a matter of time before someone finds it. So maybe we lean into that, as some type of bodyguard disguised as a maid. Nothing directly confirmed, but kind of in a tongue-and-check sort of way. Not even aim it at me specifically, but just a sort of, yes, some of the maids are trained to protect the Royal family, that sort of thing."
I could practically hear Henrietta's eyes sparkling, as she clapped her hands together. As much as she could, anyway, without losing her grip. Agnes, on the other hand, sounded exasperated.
"That sounds terribly fictitious."
"And of our agent, Fouquet? I do not believe we have gotten a report from her in some time."
I believe she has had some success stealing minor artifacts and our agents acquiring blackmail material. But she has yet to steal the Staff of Destruction, her main objective."
"If you need to, remind her, of who we have, and what happens if she fails, during your mission to Tristian, then I would see no issues."
"You are the most cruel, my master. And what should I do if she does fail?"
"If she fails to live up to the expectations she has set, then there would be no issue using her as an asset one last time. After all, where would you think they'd take one of the most famous theirs of our time if they were arrested? A mage of her capabilities would make for an excellent distraction, would she not?"
"So I have permission to use the ring, my master?"
"Within reason, yes. I'd rather avoid tipping too much of our hand so soon."
"Of course, my master."
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I was starting to get curious as to why there were so many vases and pots filled with water scattered throughout the castle. There had to be a reason for it. Some type of anti-fire system, perhaps? Water magic seemed like an effective solution to such measures, but I suppose it didn't hurt to have a backup plan.
Of course, in a world with magic, they could be signs of countless other things. Of what, I didn't know. Magic was completely out of my wheelhouse. I knew nothing of the specifics of how it worked, what rules it followed, and what its limits were. I'd learned about the basic elemental square of fire, earth, water, and wind, a nice little Avatar reference, only that a person could pick up all the other elements with skill and practice. But that was mostly through people talking about things around me when they think I couldn't hear them.
What? I was a maid. The amount of stuff you heard in an average day was, staggering. Nobody paid you any mind. You were just a servant, nobody important, who cared if you heard anything. The only thing that didn't make this fun was the complete lack of context I had for what I heard on an average day. This place leaked like a four-inch sieve some days!
Maybe that was just how medieval politics went. Either way, I don't think I'd heard anything all that interesting. Or all that dangerous for that matter. Well, nothing that was obviously dangerous, like plots to overthrow the Queen or things of that nature. Sure, she was, for better lack of a word, a mess, though that was a private thought, but regicide? That was something I'd blow the whistle on in a heartbeat.
Because it sounded like the international situation was an even hotter mess at the moment, and that wouldn't do anything to help stability. Plus, I doubt Henrietta would take having her mom die well. Most people don't, even if the relationship could be a bit, complicated. Plus, leaving the Kingdom to a child, one that would likely be depressed, even if the good Cardinal kept his position, wouldn't be great either.
But thankfully, I'd yet to hear any indication of such talk. There is probably a lot of corruption that should be tipped off to the proper people. Possibly corruption. I was, a bit unsure of if it was or not. By my standards, most likely, but I was from a completely different world, with largely different standards. It was best that I keep my head down, and don't stir things up. What I consider corruption might just be the norm. I wasn't familiar with how things worked in the period leading up to the industrial revolution, other than, expect murder in the court.
Things seemed more stable. Maybe this weird magistracy helped keep things stable? But I doubt it would last. The Industrial Revolution was likely inching its way forward, and all the social change that would bring with it. I might have been able to help get Tristian ahead of the curb. But I wasn't an engineer. Machines and all the necessary innovations that allowed the Industrial Revolution to happen weren't exactly part of my wheelhouse. I might be able to give pointers, such as building factories next to rivers until steam power took off, but beyond that?
Provided, you know, people listen to the weird servant girl. Which was not a given, thanks to the whole, nobles with magic thing. Henrietta probably would, and I'd probably talk about some of the things I heard from her at some point. I just needed to find the time. It wasn't like she had a lot of free time as Princess, I'd imagine. Even if she wasn't the crown Princess, there were probably a range of diplomatic functions and other important business she needed to deal with.
I let out a slight sigh, knowing nobody was around to hear the slight breach of propriety, as I watered the plant inside a beautiful vase. There were hundreds of these things, at least it felt like it, all about the castle. They were very pretty plants, too, with bright flowers. Either a gift from some far-off foreign country or something a bit more local. I had no way of really knowing which was the case.
Still, it was best to make sure all the plants got the necessary water. I know others were taking up the task as well, but that wasn't any excuse for me to slack off.
I took a step away from the vase, preparing to turn towards the door. Only for my back to hit something. My blood ran cold. I hadn't heard someone enter the room. Were they a Noble of some sort?
I turned around to apologize, only to find, nothing. There was no person standing behind me. That was strange. I could have sworn I'd bumped into something. Was it a ghost? I'd say that was impossible, but magic existed here, and so did things like griffins. Who was to say a ghost was far-fetched?
But would I have felt something physical? On Earth, the ghost hypothesis made that maybe, even at the best of times. But there was something there. A faint, nearly imperceptible flicker, that looked like it was fading in and out.
Okay, ghost or no ghost, that was probably a sign to leave. As in, right this very second. I immediately began heading towards the door, only to find something cold pressed against my throat. Fingers began to wrap their way around the back of my neck as I stood perfectly still.
Was I, going to die? Were they even speaking? Blood thundered in my ears and my heart beat like an engine. Think. Think! I needed to get whatever blade they were using away from my neck, then break their hold. Or was it to break their hold on the knife? I needed time, needed to think! I. I.
"Would you like paper or plastic?"
Oh God, those couldn't be my last words. I refuse to let those be my last words.
"What?" A voice said from behind me, grip loosening as I scanned the ground. That's, good enough, I suppose. I raised my foot, before stomping down. Hard.
The thing holding the back of my throat screamed in pain as my shoe found its foot, the blade falling away as I turned.
Objectively speaking, whoever or whatever they were, I was hopelessly outmatched. With a weapon, I could probably take them. But I didn't exactly have one of those on hand.
What I did have was a pitcher of water, a whole lot of adrenaline, and the element of surprise. And the ability to throw a punch.
"You little bitch! I would have left you alive," the voice, that of a man said, until the point where I'd cut him off. Smashing a pitcher against someone's face as hard as possible made it hard to talk.
If the first scream didn't tell somebody that something was going wrong, then the second certainly should have. Hopefully, that would get someone moving right along.
"You will die for that commoner," ice began to fill the room, even spreading out from the pitcher in my hand. I promptly lobbed it at the man, for all the good it would do. Of course, there would be magical assassins. Just my damn luck. Was there anything I could use, even as an impromptu weapon? The room was fairly bare. There wasn't much that could be useful. Except for a single spear.
It looked purely decorative, but what else was I supposed to do? Please let this work. Please let this work. I wrapped my fingers around the weapon.
Then the room exploded. The door came completely off its hinges, knocked aside by some type of weird, magical bullet. It caught the man by surprise as it impacted his chest, detonating in a windstorm that knocked me off my feet, tumbling against the tile floor. I tucked my head against my chest as I was sent rolling backward. Using the momentum, I slapped the ground with my arms, cutting most of the roll as I threw my legs over my shoulder, allowing what was left to carry me back onto my feet, if somewhat unsteadily.
Once my vision stopped spinning, I was able to look at what had happened. My assailant was slumped against the wall. He was, unconscious. Yeah, that was the case. Unconscious.
Standing in the middle of the room was a man, sword pointed towards the downed assassin. His hair was silver, almost grey, complete with a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. I couldn't get a good look at his eyes, but he wore a blue hat with a white feather in it. His outfit, outside of the black cape, was different shades of blue, from light to dark.
"Viscount Wardes!" in came soldiers wearing proper heavy armor, clanking reverberating off the walls. "We heard the commotion. What is going on here?"
"I believe one of the maids stumbled across an infiltrator and managed to distract him," the Viscount's voice was harsh, but there was an underlying smoothness to it. "He's injured, but alive. Take him to the dungeon and try and keep him that way. We'll need to find out why he is here, and who sent him."
"And what about the girl?" I'd long since slipped out of what could pass as a fighting stance, hoping to pass myself off as just a nervous and freaked-out member of the staff. Which, to be fair, wasn't going to be a hard sell.
Because holy shit, I nearly died! I. Nearly died. I could have died. I could have died so very, very easily right there. My breath hitched in my throat. I. I needed to breathe, needed to think, no not think. Breath. Just. Breath. In and out. In and out. I was alive. That was all that mattered.
"Are you okay?" the Viscount's voice broke through my thoughts, his eyes the same shade of silvery grey as his hair. He wasn't in my personal space, but I blushed all the same. In part, because I was embarrassed needing to be snapped out of my thoughts like that.
But also because he was, surprisingly handsome. Sure, he was probably several years my senior, based on the beard, but he wasn't exactly hard on the eyes, either.
"I'm unhurt, sir, if that is what you are asking," I said softly, shifting my feet. "I'm a bit shaken up is all. I'd, never experienced anything like that before."
"I see," the man paused for a moment. "May I ask exactly what happened? It might make explaining why this got a bit beat up a bit easier with the Head Maid."
A flick of his wand sword nearly made me flinch, as he levitated over the pitcher of water towards my hands. I winced, looking at it. The pitcher had no doubt seen better days, with the part I'd hit the man with bent completely out of shape, no part of the original surface remaining where it had been. Ice still covered the exterior, spikes of ice jutting through the metal, leaving everything but the handle irrecoverable. Maybe there was a magical fix?
"I was watering the plants, as instructed. As I finished, I bumped into someone, but I couldn't see anyone. When I was looking around, I saw something, flickering, near where I bumped into them. I went to leave, hoping to find someone, really, only for the man to hold a weapon to my throat," I started slowly, making sure to measure my words carefully. "He then held a weapon to my throat. I couldn't see what it was. It could have been a knife, but, I couldn't tell. He grabbed me by the back of my throat and, I think he might have said something, but I was scared. Panicking. If he did, I didn't hear it."
"I was panicking, and scared, and I didn't want him to kill me, so I stepped on his foot," I continued.
"You, stepped on his foot?" Viscount Wardes raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, sir. I think I was thinking that maybe, if I created enough noise, then maybe someone would rescue me," I said, still nervous. "Where you the one that created that wind?"
Was that the wrong question to ask? Was I even supposed to be asking questions like that?
"Indeed I am. Viscount Wardes, at your service," the man tipped his hat slightly, and this time I blushed for real. Shit. He's charming.
"Thank you for saving me," I bowed slightly.
"It is an honor. Though you have done the Kingdom a great service this day," Viscount Wardes returned the gesture, as I felt even more heat rise on my face. He was really charming. "Though I must ask, what happened after you stepped on his foot? I heard two yells of pain, and I don't think either came from you."
"I, panicked, and hit him in the face, with the pitcher," when I said it out loud, it sounded completely ridiculous. And yet, that was exactly what happened.
"I see," the tone of his voice sounded a bit, incredulous. Even if it was the truth. "Well, in that case."
He waved his wand, sword, thing, and the ice swiftly began to melt, as the pitcher began to return to its proper shape.
"I will make sure to tell the Head Maid about what has transpired, as well as the other necessary authorities. Aiding in the apprehension of an unknown infiltrator is no small feat. Thank you for your service, Miss," Viscount Wardes paused, asking for my name.
"Aimee, sir," I stubbled over the name, just about giving away my old one. Please let him interpret that as me being nervous about giving a noble my name.
"Aimee. I will try to remember that," the man nodded, heading towards the door. "And you can just call me Wardes if you wish."
"I, will try to remember that as well, Viscount Wardes," I tried to make myself sound as polite as possible. Viscount Wardes chuckled before he slipped out the door.
I looked down at the pitcher. Quite frankly, given what had happened, I would likely be able to wrangle my way into time off.
But that meant I'd have to think about what the absolute hell that was, and I'd rather not do that right now. So many people were going to get pissed off by this. I was supposed to lay low, not get into fistfights with magical, assassin, wizard, people. I mean, hopefully, Wardes would be willing to take most of the credit, because he was the one to do most of the work.
I made my way out the door. Work would help take my mind off things.
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That had proven, fairly unenlightening. Well, not entirely so. Aimee was incredibly polite, or at least was willing to behave as such. And if she was hostile then she was, at the very least, not working with whoever sent the assassin in the first place. That was something he would need to look into. If rebels were that assured in their victory, or this desperate to stir up trouble, then that was something to be addressed.
If not? Then there was likely a traitor, somewhere in Tristian. And that couldn't, and shouldn't, stand. Whoever sent him, Wardes needed to know. It could help determine who Aimee herself had been summoned by. Albion was fairly unlikely, now that he had given it some thought. But that could only mean one thing. Unless the Pope had sent their familiar, and she was the wrong gender for that, it meant that Tristian's void mage had summoned their familiar. But who was it? Henrietta seemed like an obvious choice, as she was around Aimee quite a bit, but that felt almost too straightforward of an answer.
Perhaps he had stepped in too soon? No, it wasn't worth it. Others had heard the fighting and were coming to investigate. This kept the secret of her skill just as hidden as it was before, and he would still be able to observe her.
He just hoped he was the only one who saw that whole fight.
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That's why big sis liked Aimee so much! She was some type of soldier maid or something! She just, beat up the int, intrud, the bad person! With nothing but a pitcher of water! She could have done it, but she was a water mage. Aimee?
Aimee was a commoner! Like Agnes! Agnes was good at keeping Henrietta safe. So that meant Aimee must have been like Agnes, but hidden. Hidden, but everyone could see her!
She should probably keep that revelation to herself. If that was what she was hired to do, then it would be best to not tell anyone. That would ruin the surprise, after all!
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"You!" Agnes pinched her brow. "At least you didn't get seriously hurt. You didn't get cut or stabbed, right?"
"As far as I can tell, no," I said, crossing my arms. "And before you say anything, my mother was a nurse. I know infections aren't something to mess around with."
"Or poison," Agnes said, and I paused. I hadn't considered that. Which made it a really good thing I double check to make sure I didn't get any scratches. I hadn't. Just bruises.
"Still checked," I grumbled, as Agnes just shrugged. Frankly, between the two of them, I'm not sure who was taking the news worse. Agnes or Henrietta. Okay, it was Henrietta. I wasn't exactly the strongest person in the world and had no shame in admitting that fact, but was starting to think Henrietta was strong enough to use me as a weight if she so desired. Her death grip around my midsection was both impressive and terrifying.
"One way or another, rumors are probably going to spread like wildfire, once this gets out, and it's only a matter of time it does," Agnes paced back and forth. I would have joined her, but I had a limpet currently attached to me.
"Plus Aimee needs a way to defend herself," Henrietta cut in, causing Agnes to turn around.
"Princess, I don't think maids are allowed to carry a knife capable of hurting someone outside of the kitchen," Agnes spoke calmly. "And knives are among the most concealable weapons out there. I don't see any way to amend the rules, either. Not after something like this. If simply out of the safety of you and your family."
"I know of one that's a bit more concealable, and not as deadly," I spoke up, their gaze turning towards me. "They're called brass knuckles. It's this band of metal that you can put your fingers through, and when you punch someone, you're hitting them with the metal, instead of the bones in your hand."
"That, sounds like an interesting idea," Agnes spoke first. "Though I've never heard of such a weapon."
"They aren't, particularly a soldier's weapon," I did know of some modification made a spike that saw use in trench warfare, but I wasn't looking for something with killing power. "They're more used when you need to hurt someone, rather than run the risk of letting them bleed out."
"Would it work with the runes?" Henrietta asked the question that was likely the first one on everyone's mind. And the answer was most likely.
"I wouldn't see why not, though I don't know if there are any blacksmiths that could make such equipment, and even if I could find one, you'd have to keep them hidden on your person," Agnes frowned. "Or just, hidden in general. I don't know what the reaction would be if you're discovered carrying those would be."
"I mean, we could lean into the rumors," I said, the two giving me confused looks. "Look, the cat's already out of the bag, and it's only a matter of time before someone finds it. So maybe we lean into that, as some type of bodyguard disguised as a maid. Nothing directly confirmed, but kind of in a tongue-and-check sort of way. Not even aim it at me specifically, but just a sort of, yes, some of the maids are trained to protect the Royal family, that sort of thing."
I could practically hear Henrietta's eyes sparkling, as she clapped her hands together. As much as she could, anyway, without losing her grip. Agnes, on the other hand, sounded exasperated.
"That sounds terribly fictitious."
Chapter 6
"I'm giving you a heads up, but the brat will be arriving tomorrow," Agnes's voice cut through the noise of clashing steel. To give myself credit, I didn't allow myself to be distracted by her words, even if they did confuse me. The brat? I doubt she was referring to the crown princess, so Henrietta's sister hadn't left the grounds, to my knowledge. Though with magic involved, it would be hard to tell.
Did it have something to do with the delivery from a few days ago? Henrietta got something, and she'd been excited ever since.
"You're going to have to be a bit more specific than that," I responded, parrying a swift strike from Agnes's blade. Agnes scowled, rarely a good sign in my experience.
"Louise de la Valliere. She's an old playmate of the Princess, and her family is close friends with the Royal line," Agnes maintained her annoyed expression. That was interesting. Sure, I had a small sample size to work with at the moment, but Agnes's dislike of most nobles seemed more and more rational. Outside of Henrietta, and Wardes, most nobles I'd had the displeasure of meeting were a combination of lazy, horny, dismissive, or assassins.
Well, a single assassin, but an assassin count larger than zero was still too many assassins.
And I still wasn't too sure about Wardes, either. The man had too much silver hair to be around my age. Of course, I doubt you could reach a position like Captian of the Griffin Knights without some measure of vetting.
Of course, the problem was in the name. Valliere. I tried to keep my head out of political posturing and power wrangling as much as possible, but even I knew that family name. Duchess de la Valliere, otherwise known as the strongest mage to exist in the modern age, if the stories were to be believed.
If there was a powerful mover and shaker that nearly commanded the same amount of respect as the royal family, if not possibly more, the Valliere family was the place to look. Of course, as I understood it, they were incredibly loyal to the royal family. And if they let their children play together, it was hard to imagine that not being true.
But I didn't have a whole lot more information on this sadly, though it seemed like I might get a bit more. But the fact Agnes was outright willing to call her a brat was, not a good sign. But it wasn't like Henrietta was in earshot, either. So did she not know that her bodyguard did not approve of her friend?
"So what's her deal, exactly? I don't know much about the movers and shakers around here, after all," I dodged, weaving out of the way of Agnes's thrust.
"Louise is the third daughter of the Valliere's. And she keeps making my job of keeping the Princess safe more difficult," ah, so this was a bit more than Agnes's standard distaste for nobles. "She's always sending up these cures, or spells for Henrietta to try. This means Henrietta has to try them, which either means something explodes, or she's vanishing into the woods for hours, or trying to collect all sorts of dangerous ingredients. And I have to go after her, making sure that whatever Louise has suggested this time doesn't get her hurt, or worse. And then, when it fails, which up until she summoned you, it always did, I'd have to deal with the damage done. Because she was trying to fix something that wasn't broken in the first place."
Oh, it was a bit more complicated than that. How exactly do I process this? Other than having the name of who exactly to blame for getting me summoned. It wasn't like there was a whole lot I could do on that particular front, as by all accounts she was Henrietta's friend, but I had my means.
All seriousness aside, it did seem like Louise wanted to help her friend. At least, that was my read on the situation. And that was worthy of praise. The number of nobles I'd met that would be willing to go to such lengths was considerably small.
Or in other words, didn't exist. But that didn't change the fact that Agnes wouldn't exactly be wrong. Such things would likely be dangerous. And given it was her job specifically to keep Henrietta safe? Louise's attempts to help would likely compromise said safety, even if Louise's intentions were good.
Though I was only getting Agnes's side of the story, at the same time, I believed it. It did sound like something a person would do, if simply because they didn't think things through. After all, stupidity was a general human trait, and it cared not for our imaginary boundaries.
"That seems complicated," I said. "Does she not know how risky the things she's asking for are, or is just too excited to realize what's happening?"
"Does it make a difference?" Agnes snapped back, blade blurring as I blocked several strikes. Which was a good point. What difference was there between malice, intended or otherwise, and stupidity?
Sure, intent does matter, to an extent, but Agnes would have had to deal with this, repeatedly. She would have had to deal with the fallout of failure, repeatedly, while Louise was, wherever she was.
Where exactly had this friend been this whole time, anyway? Henrietta had mentioned her a few times, but I'd never seen her myself.
"Fair enough," I parried another strike, keeping pace to the best of my abilities.
"Enough about Louise though. I've heard that the Viscount has his eye on you. Any reason why?" Agnes asked, nearly making me stumble. Was this an attempt to distract me, an honest attempt at conversation, or both?
"Wardes? I haven't noticed anything too different," I answered honestly, though I knew exactly the grapevine Agnes was referring to. "He's been asking some of the other maids about me, I know that much. I don't think it's anything romantic, like many rumors suggest though, if that's what you're asking."
"That's good, at least. You are fairly close in age, after all. So it's not a surprise such rumors are being told, and the Viscount is single as well," Agnes said as I nearly sputtered.
"Close to my age? Just how old do you think I am?" I shot back, launching a flurry of thrusts of my own.
"How old do you think he is? He's in his twenties like you are unless you're admitting that's old," Agnes teased, snickering all the while. Twenties? Really? How was someone that much of a silver fox in their twenties? How much stress did you have to be under to go gray at such a young age?
"I've never seen anyone going gray at such a young age. Read about it happening a few times historically, but never seen it for myself," I said, keeping up with her strikes. "And don't think I missed the dig at my age."
"You're the one who commented about twenties being old," Agnes wasn't going to let that go anytime soon, it would seem. It made for good needling material.
Part of what she was trying to teach me. While it wasn't as useful against more skilled mages, keeping them talking over casting spells was important. Getting under their skin, needling and ribbing them, and even just back-and-forth banter could be useful in disrupting concentration.
"You know it's impolite to tease a lady about their age, right?" My words were enough to force Agnes back a little way, taken by surprise. Though she recovered quickly, blocking a series of strikes.
"I thought it was impolite to ask a woman her age, not tease her on what she has chosen to reveal," Agnes grinned, as I scowled. I didn't have a good comeback for that.
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Louise looked out over the cityscape. From this high up, it looked like one of her mother's old maps. She could see everything. All the little streets, the winding alleyways, all the hidden paths one could take through the city. She hadn't gotten a few of the capital like this for some time now.
It was a wonderful feeling. It would be good to see Princess Henrietta after all this time. She enjoyed their letters, honestly, but there was nothing that compared with meeting the Princess face to face.
There was much to talk about, but the summoning of her own familiar and victory at the show felt small compared to Princess Henrietta's exploits. After all, such feats were to be expected from Louise de la Valliere.
But those who were in the know about Princess Henrietta's condition expected nothing of her. And while Louise knew better, it was good to have proof that nobody should have doubted the Princess in the first place.
Even if her friend's secrecy on the matter concerned her. They usually told each other just about everything, so the fact she wasn't willing to reveal anything in writing was odd. Though such letters could be intercepted. Even with the ink and magic used to keep such letters' contents a secret, it was far from foolproof, no matter how few knew the spell.
It would make sense to keep the information private, depending on how important such information was. But what exactly could it be that Princess Henrietta had summoned to warrant such secrecy? Even something powerful, like a dragon, wouldn't require, any of this to be necessary. So what had she summoned? A Ryhme Dragon, perhaps? Such were supposed to be extinct, but it wouldn't be impossible for some to remain, hidden away in unexplored corners of the world. And not having people looking to kill the Princess's family because they stupidly wanted magical reagents would be a logical explanation.
But could that be it? Louise frowned, even as her elevation became lower and lower, escorted in by two Griffion Knights. Not an unexpected experience. Air security around the capital was tight, even under the best of times, and with the rebellion in Albion, the situation certainly was not under the best of times.
The homeland of the former king was ripping itself to pieces. And the Royal Family was losing. Reports were hard to come by, but the picture was not a pleasant one, with their forces slowly being pushed back toward their last bastion. Rumor even had it that they wanted to export this new ideology through force. Tristian would be their first target, as the defeat of the Royal line would leave Tristian without its ally.
Though in truth, the alliance had been in the process of breaking down for the past two years now. There was a reason that Tristian was looking toward both Germania and Gallia for an alliance. Neither were minor military powers by any stretch, but both had come to share a rivalry for the past few years. Given their long land border, both nations were looking for an opportunity. And Tristian sitting between the two made an ideal ally to have.
Which meant tying Tristian to one of two powers that might be willing to go to war with one another in the future. Or dealing with war from Albion on their own, then possibly having to deal with the remaining two powers trying to force the issue while Tristian had been weakened fighting Albion.
Tristian's situation wasn't great, so she needed to prepare herself as much as possible. She had to be there to keep Princess Henrietta safe.
Cyciona touched down on the ground, claws scratching against the stone floor.
"It's good to see that the rumors coming out of the Academy were correct after all," a familiar voice rang out. "Though I shouldn't be surprised."
"Viscount Wardes," Louise bowed deeply, before smiling. "It is good to see you again."
A former student of her mother, Viscount Wales was a family friend. She didn't get to see him much nowadays, as he was naturally busy with his duties, and her studies. Louise would admit that she used to have a crush on the man, back when she was much, much younger. But she didn't get to interact with him much when she was a child, and that was ages ago.
"I find myself agreeing, Miss Valliere. It has been quite some time," Viscount Wardes bowed slightly. "I trust that your flight was, uneventful."
"It was quite a pleasant one, thank you," Louise smiled, petting the scales of her wind dragon.
"I trust that you are here to visit the Princess?" Viscount Wardes said calmly.
"Indeed. It has been far too long since we've seen one another face to face," Louise nodded.
"Well, we will have to confiscate your wand-sword, Miss Valliere. Due to recent events, security measures have been increased," Viscount Wardes words made Louise scowl, even as she complied with the order. She wasn't going to fault the guards for doing their job. But Henrietta had not mentioned any incident recently.
"I have not heard about anything about an incident," Louise looked around.
"It's being kept, quiet, at the moment, until we get more information out of who exactly it was that hired the individual in question. He's proving to be, uncooperative so far," Wardes said as he placed the weapon in storage.
"You'd think he wouldn't have that much professionalism, given how he lost to a commoner," one of the knights spoke. Louise raised her eyebrow.
"What do you mean, lost to a commoner?" Louise asked, even before she could fully understand the words that were being said. The knight in question immediately recognized his error, covering his mouth with his hand, but it was much too late, as Viscount Wardes sent the man a glare.
"I'm not at liberty to share all the details, but there was a break-in by an unknown hostile party, quite possibly backed by Albion's Rebels or other such agents. One of the maids stumbled across the situation through blind luck and managed to resolve it," Viscount Wardes continued to share a glare at the man, as the man in question tried to hide within his armor. "Though I request that you keep this secret. Henrietta, or the maid in question, Aimee, might be willing to tell you more."
"I understand," Louise nodded, even as her mind connected the dots. Break-in would be an under exaggeration. If violence would be necessary, the perpetrator was unlikely to be a petty crook. Even Fouquet would be stupid to rob the Royal Palace. That put assassination on the table, something that made her blood boil.
But one of the maids solved the problem? She'd believe it in a heartbeat if she had been told Agnes was the responsible party. She hated the woman, but Agnes was a skilled duelist and an intelligent fighter. She may not like Agnes but only a fool would underestimate someone just simply because they were a commoner. But someone who was completely untrained?
That was a different story entirely. An untrained commoner would have provided as much resistance as an untrained noble, simple as that.
"I do hope she received recognition for her service to the crown and country," Louise finally spoke, after careful processing. It was abnormal, certainly, but it was a better outcome than the worst-case scenario.
"I do believe she will, though there is much talk about how such will manifest," Wardes statement was vague. Perhaps she would have to seek out this Aimee if she had time. But Henrietta came first and foremost.
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"You requested my presence, Princess Henrietta?" I knocked lightly on the door. It was not often that Henrietta made requests for specific maids, but thanks to Agnes's heads up, I figured out what I was in for.
"Come in!" Henrietta's voice did little to hide her excitement. I opened the door, slipping through with ease. Only for one thing to become apparent.
Whatever was in the water? Cut both ways.
This had to be Louise. Agnes mentioned pink hair very excessively. But I wasn't expecting someone this short. She was tiny in all respects. Frankly, I'd call her childlike. She looked like a child, and yet she was supposed to be Henrietta's age?
And her outfit! It looks as if someone tried to combine a schoolgirl uniform with leather armor. And unlike Saber's dress armor, it didn't work all that well.
"You wished to speak with me, Princess?" I bowed slightly. I had no idea how Louise would react to me speaking as I usually did, so I cranked up my formality to the max.
"Of course! Aimee, this is my best friend, Louise!" Henrietta gestured to the small girl, as a faint blush dusted her checks. Then she looked at me, her eyes narrowed, as if she realized something.
"So, you're Aimee," she looked as if she was sizing me up. Trying to understand who I was and what I was capable of. "You're the one who dealt with the unfortunate accident?"
I felt heat rise in my face. The story had taken off like wildfire, with each iteration becoming more and more outlandish. What was, in reality, me successfully playing for time, and getting a few good hits in, had blown up into a straight-up one VS one, final destination, with Wardes interference being a form of mercy for the poor bastard.
The reality of the situation couldn't have been further from the truth, just a significant amount of blind flailing that managed to accomplish just enough for someone else to pull my ass out of the fire instead.
"I had a significant degree of help in the matter, despite what the rumors might say," a deep blush appeared on my face. Wardes deserved most of the credit. He wasn't to my knowledge, playing up his role in things, but he certainly wasn't downplaying mine, which was the problem. I was kind of hoping he would take a bit of the heat for me, by trying to take the glory for himself.
Sure, rumors would have been spread, but without someone like him to give them credibility they would eventually die out. But no. The good Viscount was taking as much credit as he felt was due, which left me holding a non-insignificant part of the credit. And with that type of push, came attention. As much as I didn't want said attention.
Thankfully, no award had materialized. Yet. As much as I knew that the cat was out of the bag, I didn't exactly take kindly to the fact that it was going to be spotted this soon. I was probably spiking the Cardinal's blood pressure, which wasn't exactly great either. Sure, magic was a thing, and that probably could help matters, but that didn't change that he was already balding. The additional stress on top of ruling a nation? Not exactly what I needed.
"Regardless. You've helped Princess Henrietta, and no matter how things went, have done the Kingdom of Tristian no small service," Louise spoke calmly as if she was still measuring me up. "For that, I'm quite thankful. It is nice that you have such a loyal maid, Henrietta."
"That wasn't what I wanted to talk to you about," Henrietta's face had a faint painting of red on it. "Remember how I told you that I summoned my familiar?"
I frowned. Was she, about to tell Louise? Was that, a good idea? Henrietta knew her for longer, and that made her a better judge of Louise's character than myself, but at the same time, that type of connection could lead to blind spots. Things that we were willing to ignore about your friend, just simply because they were your friend.
"Aimee, it's fine. I trust Louise more than anyone else in the world. She will keep this a secret," Henrietta said sternly, picking up on my tell of nervousness. Louise looked between the two of us, a puzzled look on her face. "I summoned Aimee as my familiar."
Louise's face went through a range of expressions from surprise, to shock, before landing on one particular expression. Curiosity.
"I know, it sounds crazy, but it's true," Henrietta was already preemptively protesting.
"Henrietta, I believe you. You, out of all people, would never deceive me," Louise said, as her eyes narrowed in towards me, piercing, like a bird of prey. "It's just that something like that has never happened before. It's a very special event, possibly the first time."
"Can I look at it? Your familiar rune, I mean," Louise's eyes sparkled as if enchanted by an unseen force. I knew the look. The hunger for knowledge. I wordlessly removed the glove from my left hand, Louise quickly snatching the offending limb. Her fingers were a lot smaller than mine, as she looked at the back of my hand with such intensity I thought lasers would shoot out of them.
"I've never seen runes like these before," Louise continued to stare at my hand, as even Henrietta looked closer, joining her shorter friend. "More runes are fairly simple things. But this? I don't recognize it, but it almost looks like some form of langue, if you ask me."
I looked down at the mark branded on the back of my hand. Louise was right. They kind of did look like some form of written script. Though I didn't have the foggiest, either. It looked vaguely, Nordic, maybe? Maybe I was thinking of the wrong culture there.
"Any idea what it does?" Louise asked, looking up at me.
"When I'm holding onto a weapon of some sort, it helps me fight better. It's like I know what to do with a weapon, and know how to act," I said, as Louise scratched her chin.
"I've never heard of a rune that grants powers like that," Louise seemed to be lost in thought. "I could try digging at the Academy library. It might have some information that could prove helpful."
"Thank you! I've been trying to do some digging here, but I haven't found anything so far," Henrietta pouted, as I took the opportunity to slip my glove back on. Sure, Louise had seen it, but there was no reason to create even more risk. "Do you know anything about travel from other worlds, too? I haven't found much luck on that, either."
"Other?" Louise said softly, looking back over towards me, before wincing slightly. "My condolences. On that front, one of my teachers might be of some assistance. Professor Colbert. He's been looking for something described as a metal dragon, that was supposed to have been from another world."
"A metal dragon? That sounds ridiculous," Henrietta said, though she sounded a bit nervous.
"Do you have an idea when this metal dragon first appeared?" I asked, scratching my chin. Sure, the idea of a metal dragon seemed ridiculous, because it was, but what about some time of aircraft? Something people called a metal dragon or a metal bird because that was the only thing that could explain what they were seeing.
"I'm not exactly sure," Louise frowned. "I'd have to ask about it. Why?"
"My home has several vehicles that someone from this one would likely call a metal dragon or metal bird. They are in the grand scheme of things, a fairly modern invention, around in the past century or so," I frowned. "If I knew what era it came from, I could figure out if our two worlds had a synchronized flow of time."
"But would you be able to fly it?" Henrietta asked, giving me a look.
"If it's a civilian aircraft, that's pretty unlikely. If it's a military warplane?" I looked down at my left hand.
"Then there is a decent chance I can."
A knock came on the door. "Princess, I have what you requested."
Agnes slipped her way through the door, carrying a bag.
"Aimee. You're here as well. Good. I have a bit of a surprise for you."
Did it have something to do with the delivery from a few days ago? Henrietta got something, and she'd been excited ever since.
"You're going to have to be a bit more specific than that," I responded, parrying a swift strike from Agnes's blade. Agnes scowled, rarely a good sign in my experience.
"Louise de la Valliere. She's an old playmate of the Princess, and her family is close friends with the Royal line," Agnes maintained her annoyed expression. That was interesting. Sure, I had a small sample size to work with at the moment, but Agnes's dislike of most nobles seemed more and more rational. Outside of Henrietta, and Wardes, most nobles I'd had the displeasure of meeting were a combination of lazy, horny, dismissive, or assassins.
Well, a single assassin, but an assassin count larger than zero was still too many assassins.
And I still wasn't too sure about Wardes, either. The man had too much silver hair to be around my age. Of course, I doubt you could reach a position like Captian of the Griffin Knights without some measure of vetting.
Of course, the problem was in the name. Valliere. I tried to keep my head out of political posturing and power wrangling as much as possible, but even I knew that family name. Duchess de la Valliere, otherwise known as the strongest mage to exist in the modern age, if the stories were to be believed.
If there was a powerful mover and shaker that nearly commanded the same amount of respect as the royal family, if not possibly more, the Valliere family was the place to look. Of course, as I understood it, they were incredibly loyal to the royal family. And if they let their children play together, it was hard to imagine that not being true.
But I didn't have a whole lot more information on this sadly, though it seemed like I might get a bit more. But the fact Agnes was outright willing to call her a brat was, not a good sign. But it wasn't like Henrietta was in earshot, either. So did she not know that her bodyguard did not approve of her friend?
"So what's her deal, exactly? I don't know much about the movers and shakers around here, after all," I dodged, weaving out of the way of Agnes's thrust.
"Louise is the third daughter of the Valliere's. And she keeps making my job of keeping the Princess safe more difficult," ah, so this was a bit more than Agnes's standard distaste for nobles. "She's always sending up these cures, or spells for Henrietta to try. This means Henrietta has to try them, which either means something explodes, or she's vanishing into the woods for hours, or trying to collect all sorts of dangerous ingredients. And I have to go after her, making sure that whatever Louise has suggested this time doesn't get her hurt, or worse. And then, when it fails, which up until she summoned you, it always did, I'd have to deal with the damage done. Because she was trying to fix something that wasn't broken in the first place."
Oh, it was a bit more complicated than that. How exactly do I process this? Other than having the name of who exactly to blame for getting me summoned. It wasn't like there was a whole lot I could do on that particular front, as by all accounts she was Henrietta's friend, but I had my means.
All seriousness aside, it did seem like Louise wanted to help her friend. At least, that was my read on the situation. And that was worthy of praise. The number of nobles I'd met that would be willing to go to such lengths was considerably small.
Or in other words, didn't exist. But that didn't change the fact that Agnes wouldn't exactly be wrong. Such things would likely be dangerous. And given it was her job specifically to keep Henrietta safe? Louise's attempts to help would likely compromise said safety, even if Louise's intentions were good.
Though I was only getting Agnes's side of the story, at the same time, I believed it. It did sound like something a person would do, if simply because they didn't think things through. After all, stupidity was a general human trait, and it cared not for our imaginary boundaries.
"That seems complicated," I said. "Does she not know how risky the things she's asking for are, or is just too excited to realize what's happening?"
"Does it make a difference?" Agnes snapped back, blade blurring as I blocked several strikes. Which was a good point. What difference was there between malice, intended or otherwise, and stupidity?
Sure, intent does matter, to an extent, but Agnes would have had to deal with this, repeatedly. She would have had to deal with the fallout of failure, repeatedly, while Louise was, wherever she was.
Where exactly had this friend been this whole time, anyway? Henrietta had mentioned her a few times, but I'd never seen her myself.
"Fair enough," I parried another strike, keeping pace to the best of my abilities.
"Enough about Louise though. I've heard that the Viscount has his eye on you. Any reason why?" Agnes asked, nearly making me stumble. Was this an attempt to distract me, an honest attempt at conversation, or both?
"Wardes? I haven't noticed anything too different," I answered honestly, though I knew exactly the grapevine Agnes was referring to. "He's been asking some of the other maids about me, I know that much. I don't think it's anything romantic, like many rumors suggest though, if that's what you're asking."
"That's good, at least. You are fairly close in age, after all. So it's not a surprise such rumors are being told, and the Viscount is single as well," Agnes said as I nearly sputtered.
"Close to my age? Just how old do you think I am?" I shot back, launching a flurry of thrusts of my own.
"How old do you think he is? He's in his twenties like you are unless you're admitting that's old," Agnes teased, snickering all the while. Twenties? Really? How was someone that much of a silver fox in their twenties? How much stress did you have to be under to go gray at such a young age?
"I've never seen anyone going gray at such a young age. Read about it happening a few times historically, but never seen it for myself," I said, keeping up with her strikes. "And don't think I missed the dig at my age."
"You're the one who commented about twenties being old," Agnes wasn't going to let that go anytime soon, it would seem. It made for good needling material.
Part of what she was trying to teach me. While it wasn't as useful against more skilled mages, keeping them talking over casting spells was important. Getting under their skin, needling and ribbing them, and even just back-and-forth banter could be useful in disrupting concentration.
"You know it's impolite to tease a lady about their age, right?" My words were enough to force Agnes back a little way, taken by surprise. Though she recovered quickly, blocking a series of strikes.
"I thought it was impolite to ask a woman her age, not tease her on what she has chosen to reveal," Agnes grinned, as I scowled. I didn't have a good comeback for that.
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Louise looked out over the cityscape. From this high up, it looked like one of her mother's old maps. She could see everything. All the little streets, the winding alleyways, all the hidden paths one could take through the city. She hadn't gotten a few of the capital like this for some time now.
It was a wonderful feeling. It would be good to see Princess Henrietta after all this time. She enjoyed their letters, honestly, but there was nothing that compared with meeting the Princess face to face.
There was much to talk about, but the summoning of her own familiar and victory at the show felt small compared to Princess Henrietta's exploits. After all, such feats were to be expected from Louise de la Valliere.
But those who were in the know about Princess Henrietta's condition expected nothing of her. And while Louise knew better, it was good to have proof that nobody should have doubted the Princess in the first place.
Even if her friend's secrecy on the matter concerned her. They usually told each other just about everything, so the fact she wasn't willing to reveal anything in writing was odd. Though such letters could be intercepted. Even with the ink and magic used to keep such letters' contents a secret, it was far from foolproof, no matter how few knew the spell.
It would make sense to keep the information private, depending on how important such information was. But what exactly could it be that Princess Henrietta had summoned to warrant such secrecy? Even something powerful, like a dragon, wouldn't require, any of this to be necessary. So what had she summoned? A Ryhme Dragon, perhaps? Such were supposed to be extinct, but it wouldn't be impossible for some to remain, hidden away in unexplored corners of the world. And not having people looking to kill the Princess's family because they stupidly wanted magical reagents would be a logical explanation.
But could that be it? Louise frowned, even as her elevation became lower and lower, escorted in by two Griffion Knights. Not an unexpected experience. Air security around the capital was tight, even under the best of times, and with the rebellion in Albion, the situation certainly was not under the best of times.
The homeland of the former king was ripping itself to pieces. And the Royal Family was losing. Reports were hard to come by, but the picture was not a pleasant one, with their forces slowly being pushed back toward their last bastion. Rumor even had it that they wanted to export this new ideology through force. Tristian would be their first target, as the defeat of the Royal line would leave Tristian without its ally.
Though in truth, the alliance had been in the process of breaking down for the past two years now. There was a reason that Tristian was looking toward both Germania and Gallia for an alliance. Neither were minor military powers by any stretch, but both had come to share a rivalry for the past few years. Given their long land border, both nations were looking for an opportunity. And Tristian sitting between the two made an ideal ally to have.
Which meant tying Tristian to one of two powers that might be willing to go to war with one another in the future. Or dealing with war from Albion on their own, then possibly having to deal with the remaining two powers trying to force the issue while Tristian had been weakened fighting Albion.
Tristian's situation wasn't great, so she needed to prepare herself as much as possible. She had to be there to keep Princess Henrietta safe.
Cyciona touched down on the ground, claws scratching against the stone floor.
"It's good to see that the rumors coming out of the Academy were correct after all," a familiar voice rang out. "Though I shouldn't be surprised."
"Viscount Wardes," Louise bowed deeply, before smiling. "It is good to see you again."
A former student of her mother, Viscount Wales was a family friend. She didn't get to see him much nowadays, as he was naturally busy with his duties, and her studies. Louise would admit that she used to have a crush on the man, back when she was much, much younger. But she didn't get to interact with him much when she was a child, and that was ages ago.
"I find myself agreeing, Miss Valliere. It has been quite some time," Viscount Wardes bowed slightly. "I trust that your flight was, uneventful."
"It was quite a pleasant one, thank you," Louise smiled, petting the scales of her wind dragon.
"I trust that you are here to visit the Princess?" Viscount Wardes said calmly.
"Indeed. It has been far too long since we've seen one another face to face," Louise nodded.
"Well, we will have to confiscate your wand-sword, Miss Valliere. Due to recent events, security measures have been increased," Viscount Wardes words made Louise scowl, even as she complied with the order. She wasn't going to fault the guards for doing their job. But Henrietta had not mentioned any incident recently.
"I have not heard about anything about an incident," Louise looked around.
"It's being kept, quiet, at the moment, until we get more information out of who exactly it was that hired the individual in question. He's proving to be, uncooperative so far," Wardes said as he placed the weapon in storage.
"You'd think he wouldn't have that much professionalism, given how he lost to a commoner," one of the knights spoke. Louise raised her eyebrow.
"What do you mean, lost to a commoner?" Louise asked, even before she could fully understand the words that were being said. The knight in question immediately recognized his error, covering his mouth with his hand, but it was much too late, as Viscount Wardes sent the man a glare.
"I'm not at liberty to share all the details, but there was a break-in by an unknown hostile party, quite possibly backed by Albion's Rebels or other such agents. One of the maids stumbled across the situation through blind luck and managed to resolve it," Viscount Wardes continued to share a glare at the man, as the man in question tried to hide within his armor. "Though I request that you keep this secret. Henrietta, or the maid in question, Aimee, might be willing to tell you more."
"I understand," Louise nodded, even as her mind connected the dots. Break-in would be an under exaggeration. If violence would be necessary, the perpetrator was unlikely to be a petty crook. Even Fouquet would be stupid to rob the Royal Palace. That put assassination on the table, something that made her blood boil.
But one of the maids solved the problem? She'd believe it in a heartbeat if she had been told Agnes was the responsible party. She hated the woman, but Agnes was a skilled duelist and an intelligent fighter. She may not like Agnes but only a fool would underestimate someone just simply because they were a commoner. But someone who was completely untrained?
That was a different story entirely. An untrained commoner would have provided as much resistance as an untrained noble, simple as that.
"I do hope she received recognition for her service to the crown and country," Louise finally spoke, after careful processing. It was abnormal, certainly, but it was a better outcome than the worst-case scenario.
"I do believe she will, though there is much talk about how such will manifest," Wardes statement was vague. Perhaps she would have to seek out this Aimee if she had time. But Henrietta came first and foremost.
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"You requested my presence, Princess Henrietta?" I knocked lightly on the door. It was not often that Henrietta made requests for specific maids, but thanks to Agnes's heads up, I figured out what I was in for.
"Come in!" Henrietta's voice did little to hide her excitement. I opened the door, slipping through with ease. Only for one thing to become apparent.
Whatever was in the water? Cut both ways.
This had to be Louise. Agnes mentioned pink hair very excessively. But I wasn't expecting someone this short. She was tiny in all respects. Frankly, I'd call her childlike. She looked like a child, and yet she was supposed to be Henrietta's age?
And her outfit! It looks as if someone tried to combine a schoolgirl uniform with leather armor. And unlike Saber's dress armor, it didn't work all that well.
"You wished to speak with me, Princess?" I bowed slightly. I had no idea how Louise would react to me speaking as I usually did, so I cranked up my formality to the max.
"Of course! Aimee, this is my best friend, Louise!" Henrietta gestured to the small girl, as a faint blush dusted her checks. Then she looked at me, her eyes narrowed, as if she realized something.
"So, you're Aimee," she looked as if she was sizing me up. Trying to understand who I was and what I was capable of. "You're the one who dealt with the unfortunate accident?"
I felt heat rise in my face. The story had taken off like wildfire, with each iteration becoming more and more outlandish. What was, in reality, me successfully playing for time, and getting a few good hits in, had blown up into a straight-up one VS one, final destination, with Wardes interference being a form of mercy for the poor bastard.
The reality of the situation couldn't have been further from the truth, just a significant amount of blind flailing that managed to accomplish just enough for someone else to pull my ass out of the fire instead.
"I had a significant degree of help in the matter, despite what the rumors might say," a deep blush appeared on my face. Wardes deserved most of the credit. He wasn't to my knowledge, playing up his role in things, but he certainly wasn't downplaying mine, which was the problem. I was kind of hoping he would take a bit of the heat for me, by trying to take the glory for himself.
Sure, rumors would have been spread, but without someone like him to give them credibility they would eventually die out. But no. The good Viscount was taking as much credit as he felt was due, which left me holding a non-insignificant part of the credit. And with that type of push, came attention. As much as I didn't want said attention.
Thankfully, no award had materialized. Yet. As much as I knew that the cat was out of the bag, I didn't exactly take kindly to the fact that it was going to be spotted this soon. I was probably spiking the Cardinal's blood pressure, which wasn't exactly great either. Sure, magic was a thing, and that probably could help matters, but that didn't change that he was already balding. The additional stress on top of ruling a nation? Not exactly what I needed.
"Regardless. You've helped Princess Henrietta, and no matter how things went, have done the Kingdom of Tristian no small service," Louise spoke calmly as if she was still measuring me up. "For that, I'm quite thankful. It is nice that you have such a loyal maid, Henrietta."
"That wasn't what I wanted to talk to you about," Henrietta's face had a faint painting of red on it. "Remember how I told you that I summoned my familiar?"
I frowned. Was she, about to tell Louise? Was that, a good idea? Henrietta knew her for longer, and that made her a better judge of Louise's character than myself, but at the same time, that type of connection could lead to blind spots. Things that we were willing to ignore about your friend, just simply because they were your friend.
"Aimee, it's fine. I trust Louise more than anyone else in the world. She will keep this a secret," Henrietta said sternly, picking up on my tell of nervousness. Louise looked between the two of us, a puzzled look on her face. "I summoned Aimee as my familiar."
Louise's face went through a range of expressions from surprise, to shock, before landing on one particular expression. Curiosity.
"I know, it sounds crazy, but it's true," Henrietta was already preemptively protesting.
"Henrietta, I believe you. You, out of all people, would never deceive me," Louise said, as her eyes narrowed in towards me, piercing, like a bird of prey. "It's just that something like that has never happened before. It's a very special event, possibly the first time."
"Can I look at it? Your familiar rune, I mean," Louise's eyes sparkled as if enchanted by an unseen force. I knew the look. The hunger for knowledge. I wordlessly removed the glove from my left hand, Louise quickly snatching the offending limb. Her fingers were a lot smaller than mine, as she looked at the back of my hand with such intensity I thought lasers would shoot out of them.
"I've never seen runes like these before," Louise continued to stare at my hand, as even Henrietta looked closer, joining her shorter friend. "More runes are fairly simple things. But this? I don't recognize it, but it almost looks like some form of langue, if you ask me."
I looked down at the mark branded on the back of my hand. Louise was right. They kind of did look like some form of written script. Though I didn't have the foggiest, either. It looked vaguely, Nordic, maybe? Maybe I was thinking of the wrong culture there.
"Any idea what it does?" Louise asked, looking up at me.
"When I'm holding onto a weapon of some sort, it helps me fight better. It's like I know what to do with a weapon, and know how to act," I said, as Louise scratched her chin.
"I've never heard of a rune that grants powers like that," Louise seemed to be lost in thought. "I could try digging at the Academy library. It might have some information that could prove helpful."
"Thank you! I've been trying to do some digging here, but I haven't found anything so far," Henrietta pouted, as I took the opportunity to slip my glove back on. Sure, Louise had seen it, but there was no reason to create even more risk. "Do you know anything about travel from other worlds, too? I haven't found much luck on that, either."
"Other?" Louise said softly, looking back over towards me, before wincing slightly. "My condolences. On that front, one of my teachers might be of some assistance. Professor Colbert. He's been looking for something described as a metal dragon, that was supposed to have been from another world."
"A metal dragon? That sounds ridiculous," Henrietta said, though she sounded a bit nervous.
"Do you have an idea when this metal dragon first appeared?" I asked, scratching my chin. Sure, the idea of a metal dragon seemed ridiculous, because it was, but what about some time of aircraft? Something people called a metal dragon or a metal bird because that was the only thing that could explain what they were seeing.
"I'm not exactly sure," Louise frowned. "I'd have to ask about it. Why?"
"My home has several vehicles that someone from this one would likely call a metal dragon or metal bird. They are in the grand scheme of things, a fairly modern invention, around in the past century or so," I frowned. "If I knew what era it came from, I could figure out if our two worlds had a synchronized flow of time."
"But would you be able to fly it?" Henrietta asked, giving me a look.
"If it's a civilian aircraft, that's pretty unlikely. If it's a military warplane?" I looked down at my left hand.
"Then there is a decent chance I can."
A knock came on the door. "Princess, I have what you requested."
Agnes slipped her way through the door, carrying a bag.
"Aimee. You're here as well. Good. I have a bit of a surprise for you."
Chapter 7
"Do they work?" Agnes asked as I flexed my fingers. I felt the strength surge through my body like an electrical current. I slipped the brass knuckles off my fingers, placing them back in the palm of her hand.
"They do," I nodded. "It's probably best not to try here, but thank you."
"That is, interesting," Louise looked at them as Agnes closed her fingers around them, slipping the knuckles back into the pouch she had carried them in with. "So it works with blunt implements as well. Could it work with just a simple stick picked off the ground, or does it require a bit more, craftsmanship?"
That was something I haven't considered. Could a branch be considered a club? Did I need to mold it or shape it in any way for it to be considered a weapon? And what would happen if it broke?
"No idea. I know it doesn't work with things like training weapons, so intent probably does matter. And I probably couldn't just break off the legs of a chair to use as an improvised weapon, and other such things," I scratched my chin. "Something to experiment with, I suppose, free time permitting."
"Yes, yes, an interesting idea to try later," Agnis looked around the room. "May I inquire about what the topic of conversation was about before I arrived?"
"It's quite fine, Agnes. Louise was just telling us about how one of her professors is hunting for a metal dragon," Henrietta beamed, a smile on her face. I decided to at least give this conversation some veneer of legitimacy, pouring her a cup of tea.
"A metal dragon?" Agnes frowned. "I've heard rumors of such a thing, though I know little."
"Professor Colbert is looking for it. He's heard rumors that it is from another world," I poured a cup of tea for Louise as well, and I could see a slight smugness in her expression. "Given the current situation, it does seem useful."
"Indeed. Though I'm guessing he does not have much in the way of leads when it comes to uncovering its resting place," Louise's smug expression vanished almost as quickly as it appeared at Agnes's words, as I quietly kept an eye on Henrietta. That was a barb, and it was not a subtle one. But I didn't see her try to chastise either of them. Did she not pick up on it?
"Professor Colbert is smart. He likely has leads I can ask him about, or offer my assistance in such matters if necessary," Louise shrugged. "There can't a be a whole lot of places one can hide such a thing, after all."
That was overconfidence talking. The world was a large place, after all. There were a whole lot of places one could squirrel an aircraft away. Especially if nobody knew what exactly it was they were looking for. Because it wasn't exactly going to look like the dragon they were no doubt imagining it would look like.
"And since it might be an artifact from your world, you would be able to give me a description of what it might look like, yes?" Louise said. That was, actually smart, but I didn't exactly miss the lack of please.
"I could draw a few pictures if it helps," I said, partially excited. The idea of actually being able to go back home was, exciting. If it could work. If being the keyword.
"That would be helpful, yes," Louise took a sip of tea. I scowled at the lack of a please but decided to find a pen and paper. When I meant pen, I meant quill, because ballpoint pens didn't exist yet.
"There are a few different designs from a few different eras of aviation history. The metal dragon bit implies it's of a later era, not one of the earlier ones, though I should probably cover bi-wing craft anyway," I roughly sketched one out, as the three looked over me as I did so.
"Oh my," I heard Henrietta faintly whisper.
"How exactly does something like that even fly?" Agnes asked.
"Physics. It's a bit above my pay grade, but the wings are designed to catch air beneath them, while the propeller provides the forward momentum so it can build up enough speed to get off the ground. A lot of early airplanes were built out of wood, cloth, and various other light materials," I said as I moved on to the next sketch.
Metal ones come in two different varieties in general. One retains the propeller. These could have as few as one to as many as four, and there might be a particular model with six, though I don't know if it was produced, or just only a design," I outlined a rough sketch of what might pass was a World War Two fighter and bomber respectively.
"So I assume the larger ones have more of these propellers, then? Interesting," Louise commented.
"The most modern aircraft, are jet aircraft. They've abandoned propellers for, how do I describe it?" Yeah, how exactly do put this for people who are living in a medieval-ish fantasy world?
"You know how cannons work, right? How you shot them and they recoil back?" I looked up at three perplexed faces.
"Yes? Agnes said, a puzzled expression still on her face.
"Imagine using that recoil as a means of propulsion, as using those explosions to constantly push yourself forward. That is roughly how a jet engine aircraft works," I looked up at still confused faces, though Louise and Agnes had a bit of a concerned look to theirs.
"That does not sound safe," Agnes commented, crossing her arms.
"I have to agree. That does not sound like a particularly safe, or sane, way to do anything," Louise huffed.
"I'm probably making it sound more dangerous than it is. It's just that beyond the generalities, I don't know a whole lot about combustion engines and jets. It's considerably more controlled than firing a cannon, even if we're still harnessing explosions in some capacity as a mode of transportation," I shrugged. Wait? Did I just make driving around in a car seem cool? I think I might have.
"It seems very interesting," Henrietta smiled. "I would like to know more at some point in the future."
"Of course, Princess. I can share what I know, but I fully admit that it won't be much," I said. Engines and vehicles weren't my thing. Rocks and fossils, on the other hand, were most certainly my thing. Fortunately, I had no idea how to use magic, and even if I did, necromancy was most undoubtedly illegal, likely for good reason.
But would animating fossilized bones be considered a form of necromancy?
Dumb thoughts to keep to myself, I do suppose.
"However, at the moment, it would likely be for the best if I am permitted to return to my other duties, Princess," I bowed slightly.
"Of course! I didn't mean to keep you for so long. I just wanted to introduce you to my best friend is all," Henrietta beamed, a warm grin on her face as Louise looked rather sheepish.
"Thank you for doing so. It was nice to meet you, Louise de la Valliere," that wasn't entirely the truth, but I was at least going to fake politeness. Nothing would come from me string the pot, as the saying went.
"It was an honor," Louise returned, which I took as a sign that it was already to slip through the door.
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"So she's the one who managed to deal with the assassin. I didn't think she would be so, mundane," Louise wasn't exactly sure what to think about the young woman. She didn't look imposing. Frankly, she looked soft, as if she hadn't needed to worry about anything. Her being from a different world would explain that, but still. She was Henrietta's familiar?
"Louise!" Henrietta gasped. "You knew about that?"
"I overheard talk from the guards while my wand-sword was being confiscated due to security concerns," Louise said. "Wardes pointed me towards Aimee, but I chose to visit you first, to get an understanding of what happened. I didn't quite expect our paths to cross so easily."
"Viscount Wardes mentioned her? By name?" Agnes frowned.
"Only after one of the guards mentioned this infiltrator lost to a commoner, yes," Louise said, turning toward her rival. "Is there something wrong with that?"
"Not, per se," Henrietta spoke, a glint in her eye that very much reminded Louise, that despite what much of the nobility said about her, Henrietta was still very much her father's daughter. "But Viscount Wardes does seem to have an interest, in Aimee. Almost a fixation, really."
Louise frowned. Viscount Wardes seemed like a perfect gentleman, even by comparison to the rest of the nobility. He did not seem like the type to seek out a mistress. Of course, he also wasn't married himself, which would make taking on a commoner mistress, redundant, to say the least.
"Is this about her directly, or her status as your familiar?" Louise asked, frowning slightly. One was arguably bad, and she'd rather not see either party involved in a scandal. But given that she had never heard of a human familiar before? That was rare, and rarity had value. Lots of value. Not only that, it had to be a sign of, something. Louise didn't know what, but there had to be more moving behind the scenes.
"We have no idea. Her being brought one was certainly sudden, but she has fit in well enough to avoid most suspicions," Agnes frowned. "Still, the interest is, unusual, to say the least. He was the one who ultimately apprehended the assassin after Aimee hit him in the face."
"I, think I'm missing more of the story than I originally expected," Louise looked towards her friend. "I was under the impression that Aimee was the one largely responsible for the man's apprehension."
"That is how Wardes does like to tell it, yes," Henrietta nodded. "Aimee insists that she survived off of nothing but luck and surprise, and while I wouldn't put it past her selling herself short, I highly doubt it was Wardes just luckily managing to interfere at the end of the fight."
"Of course, this is just mostly internally, as in how much of a reward Aimee deserves. Yes, she certainly does deserve one, that is without much contention," Agnes nodded.
"But she needs to stay outside of the center stage. Drawing attention to her is something that you don't particularly want to do, due to the oddities and questions that would ultimately be asked," Louise could follow the logic. "Having her be in the background keeps her out of focus, present, but overlooked. Nobody would recognize one maid as Henrietta's familiar, but once her recognition grows, it'll be harder for her to slip into the background."
"That is correct. Viscount Wardes, for reasons unknown to us, wants her thrust onto the center stage, possibly in front of the entire nation. Whether it is simply due to him feeling making her more renowned would make arrangements, easier to sell, to his peers, simple respect, or other motives, we don't know," Henrietta frowned. "I've asked my mother, the Queen, for permission to run a trial, of sorts. Regardless of the actual events, the perception of what happened is rather positive. I've floated the idea of having a group of combat-capable maids, as a last line of defense for the Royal Family, should all other options fail."
Louise blinked. There was a point to that. One could not have enough layers of protection, after all. It would be best to keep such an arrangement to as few people as possible, granted, such a measure would need the Queen or the Reagent's seal of approval. At least, to avoid any political fallout that might ensue. Louise knew Henrietta well enough to know her friend didn't have any aspirations for the throne, but most would assume such a group, if formed in utter secrecy, would be means of making a power play for the throne.
A stupid concern, but a valid one all the same. If it was someone other than Henrietta.
"And how did it go?" Louise asked.
"I think the idea has support. The idea of the reward being 'promoted to secret bodyguard' has some merit behind it," Henrietta sighed. "Though by that point I fear the secrecy would be used to keep everything swept under the rug. The Palace was infiltrated, and the other reason things didn't go wrong was through nothing more than good fortune. Even if the events need to be kept secret and internal, this is a problem that is going to have to be addressed, and soon. Good luck is not a bottomless commodity. There will be a point in time when it will be exhausted, and it will likely always be the exact moment you need it the most."
"Of course, that does have further upsides," Agnes said, a slight smug grin on her face. "There are many nobles who wouldn't give a commoner the time of day. Overlook their presence and disregard them as nothing to be concerned about."
"You're talking about spying," Louise raised an eyebrow. She wasn't, against the idea, at least in theory. Any noble who thought commoners had no will of their own or agency deserved what they got. But how necessary was such an operation? Surely, most nobles, despite their faults, would still be loyal to the crown, right?
They better be.
"If required. I hope it won't come to such a thing, but alas," Henrietta's words sent a chill down Louise's spine. Did she consider things to be getting that bad for that to be even on the table? Spying on the country's nobles to make sure they were not treasonous?
"Though that is a future concern at the moment," Henrietta beamed, returning to a much less dour state of mind. "I expect everything on that front to be wrapped up around just before the Diplomatic meeting."
"I've heard rumors about that. The one with Gallia, if I do recall?" Louise pressed. She had her own concerns.
"That is correct. King Joseph and his daughter, Crown Princess Isabella, will be in attendance," Henrietta smiled. "I'm unsure if his brother, Charles de Orleans, as well as his wife and children, will be in attendance."
"And what of King Joseph's wife, the queen?" Louise felt her question hang in the air.
"As I understand it, she is still too sick to travel," Henrietta said, shaking her head. "It has been a very long time since anyone has seen her in public. I'm surprised she's still alive."
"It's possible that she might not be," Agnes said, earning a glare from the two others in the room. "I know, it sounds cruel, but it is possible he simply, does not wish to remarry and uses the possibility of his wife's recovery to push off political pressures to do just that. It's a suspicion of mine, but I know how to keep it to myself when the time comes."
"Very well. There is a time and place for such speculation. Whatever the reasons may be, the Queen of Gallia will not be present," Henrietta said, a tone of voice making it clear that such a line of discussion stopped there. For both of them. "Which means whatever security issues exist will need to be resolved by that time. An assassin gets in while we are hosting the head of the Gallia Royal family and we'll be in more trouble than we are at present. Not to mention the risk this poses to the rest of my family as is."
Louise nodded. Of course, that was going to be a major concern of hers. The castle needed to be secured, first and foremost. Still, something like this had not happened in a long time. Maybe it was luck. Then again, Louise knew exactly where that type of thinking could lead.
"And there is the matter of Fouquet, the thief. Even if they haven't been seen with the same frequency as they've been known for over the past several months, they're still something to consider to be a problem. It's possible they could make a move against the palace itself, while the guards are busy," Agnes brought up, as Louise frowned. That was a fair point to bring up.
Fouquet was still at large. Quite possibly the strongest mage thief of this age. Certainly, they could easily claim such a title for themselves. They struck at seemingly random, managing to infiltrate manors to steal priceless artifacts from the Nobility. Their use of the earth element was subtle when it needed to be, and overwhelming if they had to fight.
Why a noble would choose to take up such a path was something Louise sometimes pondered. If they were so skilled, surely they could find a much better use for their magical talents, instead of being a simple thief.
"That is a concern as well," Henrietta let out a sigh. "There is so much going on, and I feel like everything will come to a head, all at once."
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"So she headed back to where she lives?" I asked as Agnes blocked a punch.
"Yes. She wasn't going to be able to stay for much longer, one way or another, and it is best to beat the sun," Agnes weaved her way around my punches without issue. In a world that didn't seem to be going through an industrial revolution, and hadn't invented electricity, I can see why flying at night could prove to be a risky proposition.
I still couldn't get over just how bright the stars were. I didn't know a single damn constellation, but they shone so brightly in the heavens. There was magic in mundanity, I suppose.
"Fair enough," I shrugged, keeping careful not to throw a full-powered punch. Though.
Agnes weaved out of the way.
"You're improving. The feint and the uppercut were excellent. But," Agnes twisted, grabbing hold of my arm, sweeping her leg into my feet, and throwing me over her shoulder. Instead, I rolled with it, blocking her overhand swing, before throwing yet another uppercut.
"I'm a bit surprised. Out of everything, it's those you're doing the best with," Agnes said, as I grinned.
"I think it's because I understand a lot of this stuff. How to punch, how to kick. So it's compensating less there, and that gives it more room for other things," I shrugged. It was my best guess, anyway.
Still, I didn't think brass knuckles would make for something so effective, and decent, as a weapon choice. I was going to cherish these things forever, that was for certain.
"Now, let's see how you're able to handle an opponent with a greater reach than yours," Agnes drew one of the wooden swords from the training rack.
"They do," I nodded. "It's probably best not to try here, but thank you."
"That is, interesting," Louise looked at them as Agnes closed her fingers around them, slipping the knuckles back into the pouch she had carried them in with. "So it works with blunt implements as well. Could it work with just a simple stick picked off the ground, or does it require a bit more, craftsmanship?"
That was something I haven't considered. Could a branch be considered a club? Did I need to mold it or shape it in any way for it to be considered a weapon? And what would happen if it broke?
"No idea. I know it doesn't work with things like training weapons, so intent probably does matter. And I probably couldn't just break off the legs of a chair to use as an improvised weapon, and other such things," I scratched my chin. "Something to experiment with, I suppose, free time permitting."
"Yes, yes, an interesting idea to try later," Agnis looked around the room. "May I inquire about what the topic of conversation was about before I arrived?"
"It's quite fine, Agnes. Louise was just telling us about how one of her professors is hunting for a metal dragon," Henrietta beamed, a smile on her face. I decided to at least give this conversation some veneer of legitimacy, pouring her a cup of tea.
"A metal dragon?" Agnes frowned. "I've heard rumors of such a thing, though I know little."
"Professor Colbert is looking for it. He's heard rumors that it is from another world," I poured a cup of tea for Louise as well, and I could see a slight smugness in her expression. "Given the current situation, it does seem useful."
"Indeed. Though I'm guessing he does not have much in the way of leads when it comes to uncovering its resting place," Louise's smug expression vanished almost as quickly as it appeared at Agnes's words, as I quietly kept an eye on Henrietta. That was a barb, and it was not a subtle one. But I didn't see her try to chastise either of them. Did she not pick up on it?
"Professor Colbert is smart. He likely has leads I can ask him about, or offer my assistance in such matters if necessary," Louise shrugged. "There can't a be a whole lot of places one can hide such a thing, after all."
That was overconfidence talking. The world was a large place, after all. There were a whole lot of places one could squirrel an aircraft away. Especially if nobody knew what exactly it was they were looking for. Because it wasn't exactly going to look like the dragon they were no doubt imagining it would look like.
"And since it might be an artifact from your world, you would be able to give me a description of what it might look like, yes?" Louise said. That was, actually smart, but I didn't exactly miss the lack of please.
"I could draw a few pictures if it helps," I said, partially excited. The idea of actually being able to go back home was, exciting. If it could work. If being the keyword.
"That would be helpful, yes," Louise took a sip of tea. I scowled at the lack of a please but decided to find a pen and paper. When I meant pen, I meant quill, because ballpoint pens didn't exist yet.
"There are a few different designs from a few different eras of aviation history. The metal dragon bit implies it's of a later era, not one of the earlier ones, though I should probably cover bi-wing craft anyway," I roughly sketched one out, as the three looked over me as I did so.
"Oh my," I heard Henrietta faintly whisper.
"How exactly does something like that even fly?" Agnes asked.
"Physics. It's a bit above my pay grade, but the wings are designed to catch air beneath them, while the propeller provides the forward momentum so it can build up enough speed to get off the ground. A lot of early airplanes were built out of wood, cloth, and various other light materials," I said as I moved on to the next sketch.
Metal ones come in two different varieties in general. One retains the propeller. These could have as few as one to as many as four, and there might be a particular model with six, though I don't know if it was produced, or just only a design," I outlined a rough sketch of what might pass was a World War Two fighter and bomber respectively.
"So I assume the larger ones have more of these propellers, then? Interesting," Louise commented.
"The most modern aircraft, are jet aircraft. They've abandoned propellers for, how do I describe it?" Yeah, how exactly do put this for people who are living in a medieval-ish fantasy world?
"You know how cannons work, right? How you shot them and they recoil back?" I looked up at three perplexed faces.
"Yes? Agnes said, a puzzled expression still on her face.
"Imagine using that recoil as a means of propulsion, as using those explosions to constantly push yourself forward. That is roughly how a jet engine aircraft works," I looked up at still confused faces, though Louise and Agnes had a bit of a concerned look to theirs.
"That does not sound safe," Agnes commented, crossing her arms.
"I have to agree. That does not sound like a particularly safe, or sane, way to do anything," Louise huffed.
"I'm probably making it sound more dangerous than it is. It's just that beyond the generalities, I don't know a whole lot about combustion engines and jets. It's considerably more controlled than firing a cannon, even if we're still harnessing explosions in some capacity as a mode of transportation," I shrugged. Wait? Did I just make driving around in a car seem cool? I think I might have.
"It seems very interesting," Henrietta smiled. "I would like to know more at some point in the future."
"Of course, Princess. I can share what I know, but I fully admit that it won't be much," I said. Engines and vehicles weren't my thing. Rocks and fossils, on the other hand, were most certainly my thing. Fortunately, I had no idea how to use magic, and even if I did, necromancy was most undoubtedly illegal, likely for good reason.
But would animating fossilized bones be considered a form of necromancy?
Dumb thoughts to keep to myself, I do suppose.
"However, at the moment, it would likely be for the best if I am permitted to return to my other duties, Princess," I bowed slightly.
"Of course! I didn't mean to keep you for so long. I just wanted to introduce you to my best friend is all," Henrietta beamed, a warm grin on her face as Louise looked rather sheepish.
"Thank you for doing so. It was nice to meet you, Louise de la Valliere," that wasn't entirely the truth, but I was at least going to fake politeness. Nothing would come from me string the pot, as the saying went.
"It was an honor," Louise returned, which I took as a sign that it was already to slip through the door.
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"So she's the one who managed to deal with the assassin. I didn't think she would be so, mundane," Louise wasn't exactly sure what to think about the young woman. She didn't look imposing. Frankly, she looked soft, as if she hadn't needed to worry about anything. Her being from a different world would explain that, but still. She was Henrietta's familiar?
"Louise!" Henrietta gasped. "You knew about that?"
"I overheard talk from the guards while my wand-sword was being confiscated due to security concerns," Louise said. "Wardes pointed me towards Aimee, but I chose to visit you first, to get an understanding of what happened. I didn't quite expect our paths to cross so easily."
"Viscount Wardes mentioned her? By name?" Agnes frowned.
"Only after one of the guards mentioned this infiltrator lost to a commoner, yes," Louise said, turning toward her rival. "Is there something wrong with that?"
"Not, per se," Henrietta spoke, a glint in her eye that very much reminded Louise, that despite what much of the nobility said about her, Henrietta was still very much her father's daughter. "But Viscount Wardes does seem to have an interest, in Aimee. Almost a fixation, really."
Louise frowned. Viscount Wardes seemed like a perfect gentleman, even by comparison to the rest of the nobility. He did not seem like the type to seek out a mistress. Of course, he also wasn't married himself, which would make taking on a commoner mistress, redundant, to say the least.
"Is this about her directly, or her status as your familiar?" Louise asked, frowning slightly. One was arguably bad, and she'd rather not see either party involved in a scandal. But given that she had never heard of a human familiar before? That was rare, and rarity had value. Lots of value. Not only that, it had to be a sign of, something. Louise didn't know what, but there had to be more moving behind the scenes.
"We have no idea. Her being brought one was certainly sudden, but she has fit in well enough to avoid most suspicions," Agnes frowned. "Still, the interest is, unusual, to say the least. He was the one who ultimately apprehended the assassin after Aimee hit him in the face."
"I, think I'm missing more of the story than I originally expected," Louise looked towards her friend. "I was under the impression that Aimee was the one largely responsible for the man's apprehension."
"That is how Wardes does like to tell it, yes," Henrietta nodded. "Aimee insists that she survived off of nothing but luck and surprise, and while I wouldn't put it past her selling herself short, I highly doubt it was Wardes just luckily managing to interfere at the end of the fight."
"Of course, this is just mostly internally, as in how much of a reward Aimee deserves. Yes, she certainly does deserve one, that is without much contention," Agnes nodded.
"But she needs to stay outside of the center stage. Drawing attention to her is something that you don't particularly want to do, due to the oddities and questions that would ultimately be asked," Louise could follow the logic. "Having her be in the background keeps her out of focus, present, but overlooked. Nobody would recognize one maid as Henrietta's familiar, but once her recognition grows, it'll be harder for her to slip into the background."
"That is correct. Viscount Wardes, for reasons unknown to us, wants her thrust onto the center stage, possibly in front of the entire nation. Whether it is simply due to him feeling making her more renowned would make arrangements, easier to sell, to his peers, simple respect, or other motives, we don't know," Henrietta frowned. "I've asked my mother, the Queen, for permission to run a trial, of sorts. Regardless of the actual events, the perception of what happened is rather positive. I've floated the idea of having a group of combat-capable maids, as a last line of defense for the Royal Family, should all other options fail."
Louise blinked. There was a point to that. One could not have enough layers of protection, after all. It would be best to keep such an arrangement to as few people as possible, granted, such a measure would need the Queen or the Reagent's seal of approval. At least, to avoid any political fallout that might ensue. Louise knew Henrietta well enough to know her friend didn't have any aspirations for the throne, but most would assume such a group, if formed in utter secrecy, would be means of making a power play for the throne.
A stupid concern, but a valid one all the same. If it was someone other than Henrietta.
"And how did it go?" Louise asked.
"I think the idea has support. The idea of the reward being 'promoted to secret bodyguard' has some merit behind it," Henrietta sighed. "Though by that point I fear the secrecy would be used to keep everything swept under the rug. The Palace was infiltrated, and the other reason things didn't go wrong was through nothing more than good fortune. Even if the events need to be kept secret and internal, this is a problem that is going to have to be addressed, and soon. Good luck is not a bottomless commodity. There will be a point in time when it will be exhausted, and it will likely always be the exact moment you need it the most."
"Of course, that does have further upsides," Agnes said, a slight smug grin on her face. "There are many nobles who wouldn't give a commoner the time of day. Overlook their presence and disregard them as nothing to be concerned about."
"You're talking about spying," Louise raised an eyebrow. She wasn't, against the idea, at least in theory. Any noble who thought commoners had no will of their own or agency deserved what they got. But how necessary was such an operation? Surely, most nobles, despite their faults, would still be loyal to the crown, right?
They better be.
"If required. I hope it won't come to such a thing, but alas," Henrietta's words sent a chill down Louise's spine. Did she consider things to be getting that bad for that to be even on the table? Spying on the country's nobles to make sure they were not treasonous?
"Though that is a future concern at the moment," Henrietta beamed, returning to a much less dour state of mind. "I expect everything on that front to be wrapped up around just before the Diplomatic meeting."
"I've heard rumors about that. The one with Gallia, if I do recall?" Louise pressed. She had her own concerns.
"That is correct. King Joseph and his daughter, Crown Princess Isabella, will be in attendance," Henrietta smiled. "I'm unsure if his brother, Charles de Orleans, as well as his wife and children, will be in attendance."
"And what of King Joseph's wife, the queen?" Louise felt her question hang in the air.
"As I understand it, she is still too sick to travel," Henrietta said, shaking her head. "It has been a very long time since anyone has seen her in public. I'm surprised she's still alive."
"It's possible that she might not be," Agnes said, earning a glare from the two others in the room. "I know, it sounds cruel, but it is possible he simply, does not wish to remarry and uses the possibility of his wife's recovery to push off political pressures to do just that. It's a suspicion of mine, but I know how to keep it to myself when the time comes."
"Very well. There is a time and place for such speculation. Whatever the reasons may be, the Queen of Gallia will not be present," Henrietta said, a tone of voice making it clear that such a line of discussion stopped there. For both of them. "Which means whatever security issues exist will need to be resolved by that time. An assassin gets in while we are hosting the head of the Gallia Royal family and we'll be in more trouble than we are at present. Not to mention the risk this poses to the rest of my family as is."
Louise nodded. Of course, that was going to be a major concern of hers. The castle needed to be secured, first and foremost. Still, something like this had not happened in a long time. Maybe it was luck. Then again, Louise knew exactly where that type of thinking could lead.
"And there is the matter of Fouquet, the thief. Even if they haven't been seen with the same frequency as they've been known for over the past several months, they're still something to consider to be a problem. It's possible they could make a move against the palace itself, while the guards are busy," Agnes brought up, as Louise frowned. That was a fair point to bring up.
Fouquet was still at large. Quite possibly the strongest mage thief of this age. Certainly, they could easily claim such a title for themselves. They struck at seemingly random, managing to infiltrate manors to steal priceless artifacts from the Nobility. Their use of the earth element was subtle when it needed to be, and overwhelming if they had to fight.
Why a noble would choose to take up such a path was something Louise sometimes pondered. If they were so skilled, surely they could find a much better use for their magical talents, instead of being a simple thief.
"That is a concern as well," Henrietta let out a sigh. "There is so much going on, and I feel like everything will come to a head, all at once."
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"So she headed back to where she lives?" I asked as Agnes blocked a punch.
"Yes. She wasn't going to be able to stay for much longer, one way or another, and it is best to beat the sun," Agnes weaved her way around my punches without issue. In a world that didn't seem to be going through an industrial revolution, and hadn't invented electricity, I can see why flying at night could prove to be a risky proposition.
I still couldn't get over just how bright the stars were. I didn't know a single damn constellation, but they shone so brightly in the heavens. There was magic in mundanity, I suppose.
"Fair enough," I shrugged, keeping careful not to throw a full-powered punch. Though.
Agnes weaved out of the way.
"You're improving. The feint and the uppercut were excellent. But," Agnes twisted, grabbing hold of my arm, sweeping her leg into my feet, and throwing me over her shoulder. Instead, I rolled with it, blocking her overhand swing, before throwing yet another uppercut.
"I'm a bit surprised. Out of everything, it's those you're doing the best with," Agnes said, as I grinned.
"I think it's because I understand a lot of this stuff. How to punch, how to kick. So it's compensating less there, and that gives it more room for other things," I shrugged. It was my best guess, anyway.
Still, I didn't think brass knuckles would make for something so effective, and decent, as a weapon choice. I was going to cherish these things forever, that was for certain.
"Now, let's see how you're able to handle an opponent with a greater reach than yours," Agnes drew one of the wooden swords from the training rack.
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Chapter 8
Working for the castle wasn't easy, but I wouldn't deny that there were benefits. Well, benefits would be stretching it just a bit. But compared to a lot of other places I heard about, those who worked as part of the castle staff certainly got better treatment and pay, including even days off. Not many days off, granted, especially with the Gala quickly approaching. I wasn't even sure what I was nervous about the event for. I certainly wasn't going to be involved in any real capacity. Sure, the castle staff were expected to be on their best behavior and do their jobs, and while I was good, I wasn't purely at the top of the pecking order, either.
Maybe it was just my nerves. It would be a massive event, and important to Tristian's future. I still didn't have the handle on regional politics as much as I would like, but I could read a room well enough to know what was coming, it was big. Very big.
Part of the reason I was oh so willing to take the last day I could off. We were going to be busy, so I might as well enjoy one last day. The capital itself was an interesting sight to see. Growing up in the United States, and never being one to travel around much, I'd never got to see anything quite like it in person, but it gave off a distinct vibe of an old European City. One that would be found in old pictures and textbooks, a genuine medieval city, with a surprising amount of hustle and bustle.
I wasn't alone either. I'd mostly be dragged out, as despite us getting a solid bit of money, I was never one to spend money. I was very, stingy. Not to say I didn't have hobbies, but I doubted Tristian or any other nation on the continent had a trading card game market, and was certain that no video game market existed. I mean, that was a sign that I needed a new hobby, granted, but I barely had time for things like that, between work, training, and getting enough sleep to repeat the process.
But it was nice to get out on the town if one would. Enjoy the somewhat fresh air and the, rattling of chains? The noise snapped me out of my thoughts, as I noticed a throng of people to my right. There was faint muttering going on, as I cautiously approached the scene. What exactly was going on here? It wasn't like prisoners were a sight I was unfamiliar with, but I hadn't seen anything quite like this before. Did some high-profile criminal get caught recently, or something?
I managed to peak through the heads of the crowd, despite my height. I got a few glimpses as the prison carriage came down the road. The person inside was a woman, with long green hair that was stained with dirt. A pair of glasses, partially broken, sat on her face, which looked rather dower.
She was a prisoner, which would explain that. But I doubted most common criminals would be paraded through the streets like this. Or be under such heavy guard, for that matter. That didn't happen unless you didn't want someone escaping. That did narrow things down a bit if I knew enough about the big wig bounties. Fouquet was infamous, and a natural first guess. I'd almost equate them to a magical Robin Hood, but instead of stealing from the rich and giving to the poor, they only seemed to keep for themselves.
Which more or less killed any chance of my being a fan. But Fouquet's gender was unknown, a giant question mark that was part of the reason they made for such an effective thief. Nobody knew what they looked like, so nobody knew if someone was Fouquet or not. Scouting out manor was probably a whole lot easier if nobody had any idea who you were. I could admire that level of cleverness if nothing else.
But that was if, which could be very large if. I looked to see if there were anything I could use to determine who she was without resorting to asking any of the crowd. But no such luck. Between the bobbing heads in front of my and the fact I was still working my way through the written language, I wasn't having any luck deciphering anything. Which meant I was going to have to do one of the things I hated most.
Talk to strangers.
"Excuse me, Sir, but I can't see over the crowd. Can you please tell me what is happening?" I asked, doing my best to sound polite.
"You haven't heard? Fouquet was captured, at the Academy, no less," the man's voice was rough and smelled of smoke. I did my best to avoid gagging on the terrible odor.
"I had not," I said simply, processing the information. Fouquet? Being captured at the Academy? Was it that Academy, the one Louise went to? I wonder if she had anything to do with this. She certainly seemed like the type, but I couldn't see anything that pointed to her involvement. "Do they have any idea what she was after?"
"Some type of artifact, I hear. Something called the Staff of Destruction, though I doubt it's all the nobles make it out to be," he said, turning back around, as I frowned. Staff of Destruction? That sounded ominous. Something that ended in destruction was rarely if ever, a good sign, even if used for noble ends.
Still, that was something best locked up in a vault under lock and key. It was a good thing that wasn't running around on the black market somewhere. Whoever caught her, did a good job, at least preventing some dumbass from getting his hands on something devastating.
So why did I have such a bad feeling in my stomach about this? She was captured, and no longer in a position to do any more harm. Yeah, no, something about that I didn't trust. This close to the Gala? Maybe I was being paranoid, and the stress was getting to me. That had to be it. It was just nerves and stress. I wasn't even going to be all that involved. For Henrietta, it had to be a whole lot worse, even if she was used to such social gatherings by this point.
Everything would go just fine.
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"This is beginning to look more and more like a trap with each report I get," King Joseph looked at the written words. Normally, the capture of Fouquet would be a good thing. While he hadn't had enough evidence to link the thief to the Albion Rebellion, it was very clear that the most likely one to be holding their leash was, if not one of the high-ranking members, the ringleader themselves.
At the moment, the woman sat in Tristian's dungeon, in their most secure prison. Getting her out would be an impossibility, though he would love nothing more to interrogate her. If she could put him one step closer to the mastermind behind the rebellion, it would be worth it. Of course, his upcoming trip would be much more diplomatic, and while he did have agents, having them blow their cover just simply to extract the woman for information, while that he desperately wanted, she might not have, would be a waste.
Of course, a thief like that was not someone who simply 'got caught' while trying to break into a vault. It smelled of a setup. As if someone wanted her at the capital, without her willingly being there.
"I'm going to have to agree," Charles, his brother, spoke firmly. "And I suspect it's not the Pope this time."
That went without saying. The Pope being a Void Mage had proven to be a considerable snare in his plans, and as far as he could tell, they were the only two Void Mages active. Or, at the very least the only ones the other knew about. He and his brother believed they could stop the coming Windstone crisis that threatened all of Halkginia, without the bloodshed the Pope's plan demanded. The Pope, however, wanted to follow in Brimir's footsteps.
"No. I suspect it's Albion," though, in truth, it was going to be one or the other. Tristian was small and needed as many allies as it could in these trying times. They would not pull off something like this. They needed an alliance with either Gallia or Germania to help them survive the coming storm.
"Yes, that makes sense. And given the importance of this diplomatic meeting, you have no choice but to step into the trap anyway," Charles shared his frown.
"Unfortunately. I do hope it is my paranoia, but I wouldn't have survived as long as I have without it," Joseph shook his head. "Especially given how Isabella will be joining me. I'm concerned for her safety if something does go wrong."
"If you do not feel safe having her come along, perhaps she can stay with my family during your travels. Charlotte and Josette would love to see their cousin again," Charles offered. It would be a smart choice. The safer choice. It would give Isabella time out of the house, desperately needed time. As much as he understood why, staying inside with nothing but her infirm mother was not healthy.
"I promised I would bring her along," King Joseph shook his head. Perhaps it was not a smart thing to promise her, but he knew his daughter well enough. He knew, at the very least, the problems with obsessing over what might not have a solution, no matter how painful such things were. The last time he did so, it had nearly himself and everything he cared about to ruin. "What type of Father would I be if I showed her a ruler went back on their word whenever it was convenient to them?"
It was an excuse, and they both knew it. It would be trivial to send her somewhere else. But Joseph gave his word that he would do his best to raise his daughter. And that meant that if he gave his word, he was going to have to keep it. She was getting older, and it would only be a matter of time before the crown sat atop her head, rather than his. He could not fight a war against the march of time, no matter how much he desired such. But he would leave the world a better place, so she could rule a country that wouldn't need to be bleed dry, or face annihilation.
"Very well. I will see to it that no trouble comes during your time abroad. Hopefully, your trip remains a safe one, and there won't be any complications during the arrangement," Charles smiled slightly. Joseph gave his brother a brief nod in thanks. Once, in years thankfully long since passed, he never would have considered such a thing, back when the two were at each other's throats. Now, he recognized that Gallia was more than safe under his brother's aegis.
Ideally, it wouldn't come to that. Though while he certainly hoped for the best, and that no problems were to manifest on Tristian's soil, he wasn't going to operate off that hope. While Tristian had many knights, guards, and mages, he naturally would have his own, as well as his wit and skill. Fouquet was a concerningly placed piece on the board, that was clear, but he had little clue why she was placed where she was, or why. The rest of the board was shrouded in fog. Though it was likely his opponent was in a similar position, knowing that he was the King of Gallia, little more.
It was not an ideal position, having two opposing forces, stumbling around until they found one another. But it was one that cut both ways, leaving both sides at a mutual disadvantage.
King Joseph had to navigate his pieces as best as he was able. It was not as if he had eyes on the situation as is. Ideally, it would be for nothing. Even more ideal, is that he could use the time to discover who Tristian's Void Mage was. With the three others active, it was unlikely that Tristian's was in play as well.
He had heard word from his agents that the Void Mage in question was Henrietta de Tristian. This was, unfortunately, based on little but speculation. It mostly focused on an abnormal servant girl that Henrietta seemed to have developed a strong bond with, seemingly out of the blue. One that possessed fighting abilities that only manifested themselves when wielding a weapon.
That was the true hint. If it was the case, then the maid would be Gandalfr, the Left Hand of God. Sure, it was not enough to say for certain. It could be possible that the Princess was beginning to recover at last from her disastrous relationship with Prince Wales of Albion. He wasn't entirely sure which it could be. The idea that Tristian's Void Mage had been sitting under the nose of many of his agents for so long was both amusing, in a way, but concerning. If someone else, such as the Pope, had found out about her first, Joseph could have found himself backed into a corner, simply by numbers alone. Two Void Mages were a potent force to face, especially with both the right and left hands working in tandem. If he had his familiar, he might have had a fighting chance when it came to blows, but he had rejected Sheffield ages ago, especially after.
Joseph sighed, the weight of that mistake crashing down on him. He summoned Sheffield to try and save his wife, and it nearly cost him everything, including her. One day, he would love nothing more than bring her to justice, but his former familair had long since fallen off the map, and the last time he tried to summon her back, did not go well.
Hopefully, those still loyal to the crown in Albion were putting up enough resistance to keep the Void Mage's attention on them, rather than on the ongoing events of Tristian. But he was more than prepared for being wrong.
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"Remember. The Founder's Prayerbook and Ruby of Water are your two main objectives, with the Prayerbook taking priority. If you can kill any of the Royals, Tristian, or Gallian, it is a side benefit, little more. A pleasantry, but don't allow it to compromise your primary objective. Otherwise, carry out the operation as you see fit."
"Of course, my Master. Fouquet is already in her assigned position, and will be able to start a diversion so I can recover the book from its home, leaving Tristian and my former master none the wiser," the woman cackled cruelly. "Are you sure that you just don't want me to kill her, though? It would be so much easier!"
"No. I want her to suffer. Knowing that the power she could have used to reshape the world was so easily within her grasp, but is instead in my hands, will only be the beginning of her suffering."
"Of course, my Master. I will make sure your will is done."
Maybe it was just my nerves. It would be a massive event, and important to Tristian's future. I still didn't have the handle on regional politics as much as I would like, but I could read a room well enough to know what was coming, it was big. Very big.
Part of the reason I was oh so willing to take the last day I could off. We were going to be busy, so I might as well enjoy one last day. The capital itself was an interesting sight to see. Growing up in the United States, and never being one to travel around much, I'd never got to see anything quite like it in person, but it gave off a distinct vibe of an old European City. One that would be found in old pictures and textbooks, a genuine medieval city, with a surprising amount of hustle and bustle.
I wasn't alone either. I'd mostly be dragged out, as despite us getting a solid bit of money, I was never one to spend money. I was very, stingy. Not to say I didn't have hobbies, but I doubted Tristian or any other nation on the continent had a trading card game market, and was certain that no video game market existed. I mean, that was a sign that I needed a new hobby, granted, but I barely had time for things like that, between work, training, and getting enough sleep to repeat the process.
But it was nice to get out on the town if one would. Enjoy the somewhat fresh air and the, rattling of chains? The noise snapped me out of my thoughts, as I noticed a throng of people to my right. There was faint muttering going on, as I cautiously approached the scene. What exactly was going on here? It wasn't like prisoners were a sight I was unfamiliar with, but I hadn't seen anything quite like this before. Did some high-profile criminal get caught recently, or something?
I managed to peak through the heads of the crowd, despite my height. I got a few glimpses as the prison carriage came down the road. The person inside was a woman, with long green hair that was stained with dirt. A pair of glasses, partially broken, sat on her face, which looked rather dower.
She was a prisoner, which would explain that. But I doubted most common criminals would be paraded through the streets like this. Or be under such heavy guard, for that matter. That didn't happen unless you didn't want someone escaping. That did narrow things down a bit if I knew enough about the big wig bounties. Fouquet was infamous, and a natural first guess. I'd almost equate them to a magical Robin Hood, but instead of stealing from the rich and giving to the poor, they only seemed to keep for themselves.
Which more or less killed any chance of my being a fan. But Fouquet's gender was unknown, a giant question mark that was part of the reason they made for such an effective thief. Nobody knew what they looked like, so nobody knew if someone was Fouquet or not. Scouting out manor was probably a whole lot easier if nobody had any idea who you were. I could admire that level of cleverness if nothing else.
But that was if, which could be very large if. I looked to see if there were anything I could use to determine who she was without resorting to asking any of the crowd. But no such luck. Between the bobbing heads in front of my and the fact I was still working my way through the written language, I wasn't having any luck deciphering anything. Which meant I was going to have to do one of the things I hated most.
Talk to strangers.
"Excuse me, Sir, but I can't see over the crowd. Can you please tell me what is happening?" I asked, doing my best to sound polite.
"You haven't heard? Fouquet was captured, at the Academy, no less," the man's voice was rough and smelled of smoke. I did my best to avoid gagging on the terrible odor.
"I had not," I said simply, processing the information. Fouquet? Being captured at the Academy? Was it that Academy, the one Louise went to? I wonder if she had anything to do with this. She certainly seemed like the type, but I couldn't see anything that pointed to her involvement. "Do they have any idea what she was after?"
"Some type of artifact, I hear. Something called the Staff of Destruction, though I doubt it's all the nobles make it out to be," he said, turning back around, as I frowned. Staff of Destruction? That sounded ominous. Something that ended in destruction was rarely if ever, a good sign, even if used for noble ends.
Still, that was something best locked up in a vault under lock and key. It was a good thing that wasn't running around on the black market somewhere. Whoever caught her, did a good job, at least preventing some dumbass from getting his hands on something devastating.
So why did I have such a bad feeling in my stomach about this? She was captured, and no longer in a position to do any more harm. Yeah, no, something about that I didn't trust. This close to the Gala? Maybe I was being paranoid, and the stress was getting to me. That had to be it. It was just nerves and stress. I wasn't even going to be all that involved. For Henrietta, it had to be a whole lot worse, even if she was used to such social gatherings by this point.
Everything would go just fine.
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"This is beginning to look more and more like a trap with each report I get," King Joseph looked at the written words. Normally, the capture of Fouquet would be a good thing. While he hadn't had enough evidence to link the thief to the Albion Rebellion, it was very clear that the most likely one to be holding their leash was, if not one of the high-ranking members, the ringleader themselves.
At the moment, the woman sat in Tristian's dungeon, in their most secure prison. Getting her out would be an impossibility, though he would love nothing more to interrogate her. If she could put him one step closer to the mastermind behind the rebellion, it would be worth it. Of course, his upcoming trip would be much more diplomatic, and while he did have agents, having them blow their cover just simply to extract the woman for information, while that he desperately wanted, she might not have, would be a waste.
Of course, a thief like that was not someone who simply 'got caught' while trying to break into a vault. It smelled of a setup. As if someone wanted her at the capital, without her willingly being there.
"I'm going to have to agree," Charles, his brother, spoke firmly. "And I suspect it's not the Pope this time."
That went without saying. The Pope being a Void Mage had proven to be a considerable snare in his plans, and as far as he could tell, they were the only two Void Mages active. Or, at the very least the only ones the other knew about. He and his brother believed they could stop the coming Windstone crisis that threatened all of Halkginia, without the bloodshed the Pope's plan demanded. The Pope, however, wanted to follow in Brimir's footsteps.
"No. I suspect it's Albion," though, in truth, it was going to be one or the other. Tristian was small and needed as many allies as it could in these trying times. They would not pull off something like this. They needed an alliance with either Gallia or Germania to help them survive the coming storm.
"Yes, that makes sense. And given the importance of this diplomatic meeting, you have no choice but to step into the trap anyway," Charles shared his frown.
"Unfortunately. I do hope it is my paranoia, but I wouldn't have survived as long as I have without it," Joseph shook his head. "Especially given how Isabella will be joining me. I'm concerned for her safety if something does go wrong."
"If you do not feel safe having her come along, perhaps she can stay with my family during your travels. Charlotte and Josette would love to see their cousin again," Charles offered. It would be a smart choice. The safer choice. It would give Isabella time out of the house, desperately needed time. As much as he understood why, staying inside with nothing but her infirm mother was not healthy.
"I promised I would bring her along," King Joseph shook his head. Perhaps it was not a smart thing to promise her, but he knew his daughter well enough. He knew, at the very least, the problems with obsessing over what might not have a solution, no matter how painful such things were. The last time he did so, it had nearly himself and everything he cared about to ruin. "What type of Father would I be if I showed her a ruler went back on their word whenever it was convenient to them?"
It was an excuse, and they both knew it. It would be trivial to send her somewhere else. But Joseph gave his word that he would do his best to raise his daughter. And that meant that if he gave his word, he was going to have to keep it. She was getting older, and it would only be a matter of time before the crown sat atop her head, rather than his. He could not fight a war against the march of time, no matter how much he desired such. But he would leave the world a better place, so she could rule a country that wouldn't need to be bleed dry, or face annihilation.
"Very well. I will see to it that no trouble comes during your time abroad. Hopefully, your trip remains a safe one, and there won't be any complications during the arrangement," Charles smiled slightly. Joseph gave his brother a brief nod in thanks. Once, in years thankfully long since passed, he never would have considered such a thing, back when the two were at each other's throats. Now, he recognized that Gallia was more than safe under his brother's aegis.
Ideally, it wouldn't come to that. Though while he certainly hoped for the best, and that no problems were to manifest on Tristian's soil, he wasn't going to operate off that hope. While Tristian had many knights, guards, and mages, he naturally would have his own, as well as his wit and skill. Fouquet was a concerningly placed piece on the board, that was clear, but he had little clue why she was placed where she was, or why. The rest of the board was shrouded in fog. Though it was likely his opponent was in a similar position, knowing that he was the King of Gallia, little more.
It was not an ideal position, having two opposing forces, stumbling around until they found one another. But it was one that cut both ways, leaving both sides at a mutual disadvantage.
King Joseph had to navigate his pieces as best as he was able. It was not as if he had eyes on the situation as is. Ideally, it would be for nothing. Even more ideal, is that he could use the time to discover who Tristian's Void Mage was. With the three others active, it was unlikely that Tristian's was in play as well.
He had heard word from his agents that the Void Mage in question was Henrietta de Tristian. This was, unfortunately, based on little but speculation. It mostly focused on an abnormal servant girl that Henrietta seemed to have developed a strong bond with, seemingly out of the blue. One that possessed fighting abilities that only manifested themselves when wielding a weapon.
That was the true hint. If it was the case, then the maid would be Gandalfr, the Left Hand of God. Sure, it was not enough to say for certain. It could be possible that the Princess was beginning to recover at last from her disastrous relationship with Prince Wales of Albion. He wasn't entirely sure which it could be. The idea that Tristian's Void Mage had been sitting under the nose of many of his agents for so long was both amusing, in a way, but concerning. If someone else, such as the Pope, had found out about her first, Joseph could have found himself backed into a corner, simply by numbers alone. Two Void Mages were a potent force to face, especially with both the right and left hands working in tandem. If he had his familiar, he might have had a fighting chance when it came to blows, but he had rejected Sheffield ages ago, especially after.
Joseph sighed, the weight of that mistake crashing down on him. He summoned Sheffield to try and save his wife, and it nearly cost him everything, including her. One day, he would love nothing more than bring her to justice, but his former familair had long since fallen off the map, and the last time he tried to summon her back, did not go well.
Hopefully, those still loyal to the crown in Albion were putting up enough resistance to keep the Void Mage's attention on them, rather than on the ongoing events of Tristian. But he was more than prepared for being wrong.
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"Remember. The Founder's Prayerbook and Ruby of Water are your two main objectives, with the Prayerbook taking priority. If you can kill any of the Royals, Tristian, or Gallian, it is a side benefit, little more. A pleasantry, but don't allow it to compromise your primary objective. Otherwise, carry out the operation as you see fit."
"Of course, my Master. Fouquet is already in her assigned position, and will be able to start a diversion so I can recover the book from its home, leaving Tristian and my former master none the wiser," the woman cackled cruelly. "Are you sure that you just don't want me to kill her, though? It would be so much easier!"
"No. I want her to suffer. Knowing that the power she could have used to reshape the world was so easily within her grasp, but is instead in my hands, will only be the beginning of her suffering."
"Of course, my Master. I will make sure your will is done."
Chapter 9
"You!" Matilda snarled, despite herself. She wondered how she had ended up captured in the first place, but now, the answer was obvious. The grin of the woman before her seemed seductive and warm, but in reality, it was sadistic and cruel.
"I did warn you. If you did not retrieve the Staff of Destruction as promised, you would be used in, other ways," the woman laughed, seemingly uncaring. The thief known as Fouquet ground her teeth. Sneaking past all the guards in this place would have been a challenge, even for her. So how had she managed to slip by so easily?
This had to have been part of their plan. The Staff of Destruction was under too many seals, under far too much protection for an attempt to steal it to be anything other than a failure. She made an effort, Matilda really did, but it was going to be outright impossible. Was it that they didn't understand that? Or was it that they didn't care about how impossible or not it was?
Matilda scowled. She wouldn't be surprised by that. She wasn't serving Reconquestia willingly. If they simply had a gun to her head, she would have slipped away by now. The world was big, and there were plenty of places to hide. Hell, she might even give information that she had to the Queen. It might not do her a lot of good, but it was better than nothing.
But no. Reconquestia, or at least, those behind the movement, had hostages. And there wasn't anything she could do about it.
But she didn't think they would be this stupid! What good was a master thief while in prison? None!
"Don't make a face like that," the woman smiled, an icey grin that chilled Fouquet to the bone. Could she risk calling the guards? Should she? Would they even hear her? "While I do enjoy indulging my Master's cruelty, they're much smarter than most people assume they are. You of all people should know that."
Matilda continued to grind her teeth. She wanted nothing more than to punch that woman in her smug face. It wouldn't do her any good, as she didn't have her wand, and there was no telling how many magical artifacts were hidden beneath the woman's robes.
"Sure, you've shown that you can get to me, but that's not doing a whole lot," Matilda tried to fire back at the woman. "What good is a thief of my caliber in a cage? There isn't a whole lot to steal in a prison, but I'm assuming you know that, right?"
The worst part was the woman's grin only grew wider. Why? She was useless in here. There was no reason to put her in prison. Unless.
"There we go," the woman's voice cut through her thoughts like a knife, as she faintly clapped. "I knew you'd figure it out eventually. If the Staff of Destruction is as impossible to steal, as you claim, then we don't have much need for a master thief, now do we? All we need you for is one, little distraction."
The woman raised her arm, revealing a ring on her fingers as a light began to illuminate from behind her hood. Fouquet's eyes widened.
"Guards! Guards! There is an!"
There was a bright flash of light, Fouquet's words dying on her lips. Sheffield smiled.
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The day of festivities had arrived. And I, for one, was not prepared. I had no idea that so many people would be here. There were so many people, and every single one of them was extremely important. At least, they thought so. However, as one of the junior maids, I was kept away from the main gala. My job was more focused on cleaning other areas of the palace, as well as helping with cooking, and washing dishes.
Not exactly glorious jobs, but they were needed so I didn't have much to complain about. Frankly, it was better for me anyway. Being around that many people, that many strangers, would have been completely exhausting for me, and while I probably could keep it up for the entire night, there was no real reason to push my luck on such matters.
I did manage to catch a glimpse at a few of the VIP's. Joseph, the King of Gallia, didn't seem to live up to his whispered reputation of being a 'Mad King'. At least, the man looked completely sane. Maybe it was because I wasn't aware of any of the political background surrounding things. He could be pushing for commoners to have more rights, an idea that sadly, many nobles would find truly insane. Still, the blue hair was strange. Then again, Henrietta's family had purple hair, and Louise had pink, so that was only noteworthy by my standards.
But everything felt, normal. Mundane. Sure, there was a large party going on, but at the end of the day, that almost felt like usual.
Frankly, I don't think anyone saw what was coming. The rumbling nearly took me clean off my feet, as if there was an earthquake. Plates, pots, and pans fell everywhere. Several of the other girls around me tumbled over, unable to handle the sudden shaking while carrying plates full of food.
What the hell was that? Sure, I hadn't been here long, but Tristian didn't seem like earthquake country. Then came a bell, a loud gonging sound that managed to pierce through the walls. Was that, some sort of alarm? Then came a second quake, one less powerful, but still concerning. Could this be natural?
I didn't think so. I never really had to deal with earthquakes, so I didn't have any first-hand experience. But the panicked screaming from some of the girls told me that clearly, this was not a regular occurrence. And in a world with magic?
That left very few other options as to what exactly was causing this. It did leave other questions, however. Like why, or frankly, how. Why was some mage setting off earthquakes, and how was one of that caliber allowed to even get that close in the first place?
Or, was I missing pieces of the picture here?
What was clear was that an abnormal event was ongoing, one that proved to be a possible threat to not just myself, but several others. Including, well, the Princess, and the rest of her family. I had no idea what I could do on that front. If it came to fighting a mage, it was far from impossible. Agnes made that clear, as did my own previous experience. Even winning outright was possible, though that required several things to go my way. An Overconfident or an inexperienced mage would likely be my limit right now though, but it wasn't like both was an impossibility.
Though in this case, it likely wouldn't be. If one was capable of whatever this was, then they were likely powering, experienced, and worst of all, competent. Or simply put, well beyond my weight class that it wasn't even funny.
Of course, there were likely a whole lot of mages in the palace right now, that while not exactly being on that power level, were probably pretty damn close. Maybe at that level, if Karen of the Heavy Wind was in attendance. Which I wasn't sure about, either. I didn't exactly have access to a guest list.
But with the panic in the kitchen, with numerous maids running about. It was chaos, but an understandable chaos. Even if I couldn't do a whole lot against such an opponent, there had to be other things going on beyond just fighting whatever it was that was causing the earthquake. Who knows what else was happening? Because if the shaking was bad here, then it had to be worse elsewhere.
And if it was worse elsewhere, then there were all sorts of knock-on effects that this would have. Hell, they might not even be targeting the Gala itself. There was Fouquet, who was put in the Royal Jail just last week. Someone like that had to have powerful allies. A thief of her caliber would be quite the asset, and one wouldn't likely want to lose.
And if breaking Fouquet out resulted in other prisoners escaping? Then all that created was a purpose-built distraction for everyone else. They'd have to round up all the escapees, which were likely to be both violent and equally capable. It would take time, time that would allow Fouquet and whoever was breaking her out to make a getaway.
Sure, I couldn't prevent that, not by a long shot. And while most of the guards would ideally have most arrested short order, that was by no means a guarantee. The palace itself should be a place anyone would be reluctant to assault, but that was no guarantee either. Someone could be reckless enough to try and attack this place as some form of vengeance. And while Agnes was present, and more than capable of holding her own against such, ruffians, without assistance, that doesn't exactly mean she should have to deal with such on her own.
Stepping out into the hallway proved to be full of just as much chaos, the ringing of the bell even louder than it was before. Panic was in the halls, as I made my way through the crowd of people. Some of them only stared out the window, gawking at something I didn't see.
I took the time to spare a glance at the distance, a building was burning, flames illuminating the evening sky. And against the backdrop of the flames, something moved. It looked as if the walls were, arranging themselves, taking on a new form. Something towering and massive, almost like a monster.
I picked up the pace, making my way towards where I knew the Gala was, meeting stiffer and stiffer resistance as I went. Out of the corner of my eye, I managed to catch, something streaking through the sky. There was a crack of lightning, striking the incoming projectile with destructive force, splintering it apart, but parts rained down, still, respectable slabs that crashed through wall and ceiling alike. More screams, more panic, and I had to push through the crowd more and more. It took everything I had to avoid being trampled, to be washed away by the tide of people pushing against me.
By the time I made it into the Gala hall proper, it was somehow even worse. A telling statement, given how the majority of the people were mages, which in theory, should have been more than capable of putting up some degree of self-defense, but they were too busy panicking to do that. There were a few points of sanity in the chaos. King Joseph was thankfully one of them, doing his best to control his delegation and guards. As was the Queen herself, though she was less skilled than Joseph was.
But the picture still wasn't pretty by any means, as another quake nearly knocked me off my feet. I dared to look through the windows again and sorely wished I hadn't. The fires continued to rage, but it looked like whatever that thing was had begun to come closer and closer, like an unstoppable giant.
Because that wasn't concerning, that wasn't concerning at all! What even was that thing? Could it be stopped? Did someone manage to piss off some sort of Kiju or something? Yeah, I needed to figure out how magic worked if that was the type of stuff a powerful mage could produce.
Of course, there had to be powerful mages on guard of our own. Wardes being an example I knew about. Of course, I could imagine even he would have a hard time bringing something like that down.
However, my job was a different one. I needed to find Agnes and Princess Henrietta, and at least help getting her to a safe location. Yes, the Princess was skilled when it came to fighting, but this thing was not something that could be fought with just simple swords or guns. Getting her and her sister Minnette out of harm's way would be a high priority, regardless. But I couldn't see them. Of course, Agnes had probably been on the move since the first sign of trouble, no orders needed.
As I looked, a slip of purple caught my eye, going down one of the many hallways. Lacking any other options, I weaved my way through the crowd, coming to a long hallway. My eyes gleamed, spotting Henrietta as she moved with her sister down the hallway, with a group of guards to her front, Agnes leading the way. I moved to join them as there was a loud cracking noise. The ceiling came apart, rubble and rocks falling everywhere. I managed to close the distance, pulling back on Henrietta and Minette, rocks nearly falling on where they just stood.
"Aimee!" I heard Henrietta gasp in surprise, while Minette seemed shocked as well.
"Apologies, Princesses. Are you unharmed?" I bowed, trying to keep an air of respect. It was better the pain of a harsh tug upon one's arm than it was rock or mortar to one's head, but being nice would not hurt me here.
"No, I think we're fine, thank you," Henrietta turned toward the mound of rubble, and I knew exactly why. Not only were several guards trapped, provided they hadn't been killed, the same could be said for Agnes herself. "Agnes, are you okay?"
"I'm alright, Princess," her voice rang back from the other side, somewhat distorted by the rocks. Though there was a twinge of pain in her voice, at the very least, she was alive and conscious. "Aimee, if I heard your voice, then you need to get Princess Henrietta and Crown Princess Minette to safety, understand?"
"Yes Ma'am," I did my best to ignore Henrietta's snicker. "And where exactly would that be?"
"There should be a safe room in the lower levels, but given the situation, it might be for the best if you just evacuate the Palace for the time being," I nodded. I could understand an unwillingness to be indoors during the present situation, as both avoided death by a hair's breadth. But taking them out into the open had its own risks.
However, I trusted Agnes and her judgment. If she thought it was a better idea to break into the open, then there was a reason for it, even if I didn't know what that reason was.
"Please, follow me, Princesses," I bowed. "I will do everything in my power to get you to safety."
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
The halls had begun to thin out in terms of people, but there was a problem. With several parts of the ceiling caving in, the path I had to take to get the two out was now muddled. Almost like a winding snake, and I didn't like it. Not one bit.
Then I felt it as I turned the corner, a sudden pressure slamming into my chest, sending me sprawling. My shout of pain was breathless, the wind being knocked clean out of my lungs. I hissed, trying to force myself up, my hand already going towards my pocket, despite the pain.
"Well, well, well," a woman's voice came from where I had been hit from, just as Henrietta rounded the corner. To her credit, Henrietta immediately put herself between this attacker and her sister. The speaker had long, silky black hair, and her skin was pale, almost unnaturally so. "I didn't think I'd be so fortunate to run into Tristian's Princess and crown heir."
Something about her voice sounded twisted, almost sick. My fingers still felt for the brass knuckles in my pocket.
"Stay away from her!" Henrietta snapped, even though she didn't have a weapon to defend herself. The woman's laugh sent a chill up my spine.
"I'd do no such thing," her grin was a twisted thing, as she raised a ring on her hand. "You on the other hand? I'd never thought I'd get an opportunity to make the one who made my Master suffer pay. I'd imagine even a Void mage would have a hard time rallying the country if you killed."
She didn't get further, as my fingers slipped into the brass knuckle in my pocket. My pain became dulled, vigor flooding into my veins like a raging river. In one moment I accelerated, one hand going toward the ring on her finger, while the brass knuckle smashed into the side of the woman's ribs, knocking her back with a crunch.
"Go! I'll hold her off!" I shouted. Henrietta looked as if she were in a daze for a moment, before she shook her head, grabbing hold of Minette's arm, and taking off.
"Stay safe!" She shouted, back, and I could tell it wasn't a request, but an order. I kept my eyes on the woman, who was already standing back up, as I fished the second knuckle out, letting the ring I stole slip into my pocket.
"Most impressive, Gandalfr," the woman said, almost as if her body hadn't produced a sound that signified the breaking of bones. She raised her hand once again. "I suppose, it will be your turn to kill the crown princess instead!"
What? Seriously? That was her plan? I was very thankful I took that ring, then.
I closed the distance, throwing a punch towards the woman's head, but she dodged, a slight scowl on her face. Still, the name tickled the back of my mind. Gandalfr. It certainly wasn't my name, but it was being applied to me. Some type of title, maybe?
"Look lady, just surrender already," I scowled. Magical mind control rings were completely new to me as is. I had no idea what other tricks she had up her sleeve. If I could get her to back down, then I could just take anything that allowed her to cast spells, and find somewhere to tie her up. Instead, the woman just laughed, a dark sick sound, a noise that could only be created by someone who was insane.
"You think you stand a chance against me, young Gandalfr?" Her grin was madness. "I am Lifdrasir and Miodaitnir! You are merely his left hand, while I am the Heart and Mind of God!"
"I did warn you. If you did not retrieve the Staff of Destruction as promised, you would be used in, other ways," the woman laughed, seemingly uncaring. The thief known as Fouquet ground her teeth. Sneaking past all the guards in this place would have been a challenge, even for her. So how had she managed to slip by so easily?
This had to have been part of their plan. The Staff of Destruction was under too many seals, under far too much protection for an attempt to steal it to be anything other than a failure. She made an effort, Matilda really did, but it was going to be outright impossible. Was it that they didn't understand that? Or was it that they didn't care about how impossible or not it was?
Matilda scowled. She wouldn't be surprised by that. She wasn't serving Reconquestia willingly. If they simply had a gun to her head, she would have slipped away by now. The world was big, and there were plenty of places to hide. Hell, she might even give information that she had to the Queen. It might not do her a lot of good, but it was better than nothing.
But no. Reconquestia, or at least, those behind the movement, had hostages. And there wasn't anything she could do about it.
But she didn't think they would be this stupid! What good was a master thief while in prison? None!
"Don't make a face like that," the woman smiled, an icey grin that chilled Fouquet to the bone. Could she risk calling the guards? Should she? Would they even hear her? "While I do enjoy indulging my Master's cruelty, they're much smarter than most people assume they are. You of all people should know that."
Matilda continued to grind her teeth. She wanted nothing more than to punch that woman in her smug face. It wouldn't do her any good, as she didn't have her wand, and there was no telling how many magical artifacts were hidden beneath the woman's robes.
"Sure, you've shown that you can get to me, but that's not doing a whole lot," Matilda tried to fire back at the woman. "What good is a thief of my caliber in a cage? There isn't a whole lot to steal in a prison, but I'm assuming you know that, right?"
The worst part was the woman's grin only grew wider. Why? She was useless in here. There was no reason to put her in prison. Unless.
"There we go," the woman's voice cut through her thoughts like a knife, as she faintly clapped. "I knew you'd figure it out eventually. If the Staff of Destruction is as impossible to steal, as you claim, then we don't have much need for a master thief, now do we? All we need you for is one, little distraction."
The woman raised her arm, revealing a ring on her fingers as a light began to illuminate from behind her hood. Fouquet's eyes widened.
"Guards! Guards! There is an!"
There was a bright flash of light, Fouquet's words dying on her lips. Sheffield smiled.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
The day of festivities had arrived. And I, for one, was not prepared. I had no idea that so many people would be here. There were so many people, and every single one of them was extremely important. At least, they thought so. However, as one of the junior maids, I was kept away from the main gala. My job was more focused on cleaning other areas of the palace, as well as helping with cooking, and washing dishes.
Not exactly glorious jobs, but they were needed so I didn't have much to complain about. Frankly, it was better for me anyway. Being around that many people, that many strangers, would have been completely exhausting for me, and while I probably could keep it up for the entire night, there was no real reason to push my luck on such matters.
I did manage to catch a glimpse at a few of the VIP's. Joseph, the King of Gallia, didn't seem to live up to his whispered reputation of being a 'Mad King'. At least, the man looked completely sane. Maybe it was because I wasn't aware of any of the political background surrounding things. He could be pushing for commoners to have more rights, an idea that sadly, many nobles would find truly insane. Still, the blue hair was strange. Then again, Henrietta's family had purple hair, and Louise had pink, so that was only noteworthy by my standards.
But everything felt, normal. Mundane. Sure, there was a large party going on, but at the end of the day, that almost felt like usual.
Frankly, I don't think anyone saw what was coming. The rumbling nearly took me clean off my feet, as if there was an earthquake. Plates, pots, and pans fell everywhere. Several of the other girls around me tumbled over, unable to handle the sudden shaking while carrying plates full of food.
What the hell was that? Sure, I hadn't been here long, but Tristian didn't seem like earthquake country. Then came a bell, a loud gonging sound that managed to pierce through the walls. Was that, some sort of alarm? Then came a second quake, one less powerful, but still concerning. Could this be natural?
I didn't think so. I never really had to deal with earthquakes, so I didn't have any first-hand experience. But the panicked screaming from some of the girls told me that clearly, this was not a regular occurrence. And in a world with magic?
That left very few other options as to what exactly was causing this. It did leave other questions, however. Like why, or frankly, how. Why was some mage setting off earthquakes, and how was one of that caliber allowed to even get that close in the first place?
Or, was I missing pieces of the picture here?
What was clear was that an abnormal event was ongoing, one that proved to be a possible threat to not just myself, but several others. Including, well, the Princess, and the rest of her family. I had no idea what I could do on that front. If it came to fighting a mage, it was far from impossible. Agnes made that clear, as did my own previous experience. Even winning outright was possible, though that required several things to go my way. An Overconfident or an inexperienced mage would likely be my limit right now though, but it wasn't like both was an impossibility.
Though in this case, it likely wouldn't be. If one was capable of whatever this was, then they were likely powering, experienced, and worst of all, competent. Or simply put, well beyond my weight class that it wasn't even funny.
Of course, there were likely a whole lot of mages in the palace right now, that while not exactly being on that power level, were probably pretty damn close. Maybe at that level, if Karen of the Heavy Wind was in attendance. Which I wasn't sure about, either. I didn't exactly have access to a guest list.
But with the panic in the kitchen, with numerous maids running about. It was chaos, but an understandable chaos. Even if I couldn't do a whole lot against such an opponent, there had to be other things going on beyond just fighting whatever it was that was causing the earthquake. Who knows what else was happening? Because if the shaking was bad here, then it had to be worse elsewhere.
And if it was worse elsewhere, then there were all sorts of knock-on effects that this would have. Hell, they might not even be targeting the Gala itself. There was Fouquet, who was put in the Royal Jail just last week. Someone like that had to have powerful allies. A thief of her caliber would be quite the asset, and one wouldn't likely want to lose.
And if breaking Fouquet out resulted in other prisoners escaping? Then all that created was a purpose-built distraction for everyone else. They'd have to round up all the escapees, which were likely to be both violent and equally capable. It would take time, time that would allow Fouquet and whoever was breaking her out to make a getaway.
Sure, I couldn't prevent that, not by a long shot. And while most of the guards would ideally have most arrested short order, that was by no means a guarantee. The palace itself should be a place anyone would be reluctant to assault, but that was no guarantee either. Someone could be reckless enough to try and attack this place as some form of vengeance. And while Agnes was present, and more than capable of holding her own against such, ruffians, without assistance, that doesn't exactly mean she should have to deal with such on her own.
Stepping out into the hallway proved to be full of just as much chaos, the ringing of the bell even louder than it was before. Panic was in the halls, as I made my way through the crowd of people. Some of them only stared out the window, gawking at something I didn't see.
I took the time to spare a glance at the distance, a building was burning, flames illuminating the evening sky. And against the backdrop of the flames, something moved. It looked as if the walls were, arranging themselves, taking on a new form. Something towering and massive, almost like a monster.
I picked up the pace, making my way towards where I knew the Gala was, meeting stiffer and stiffer resistance as I went. Out of the corner of my eye, I managed to catch, something streaking through the sky. There was a crack of lightning, striking the incoming projectile with destructive force, splintering it apart, but parts rained down, still, respectable slabs that crashed through wall and ceiling alike. More screams, more panic, and I had to push through the crowd more and more. It took everything I had to avoid being trampled, to be washed away by the tide of people pushing against me.
By the time I made it into the Gala hall proper, it was somehow even worse. A telling statement, given how the majority of the people were mages, which in theory, should have been more than capable of putting up some degree of self-defense, but they were too busy panicking to do that. There were a few points of sanity in the chaos. King Joseph was thankfully one of them, doing his best to control his delegation and guards. As was the Queen herself, though she was less skilled than Joseph was.
But the picture still wasn't pretty by any means, as another quake nearly knocked me off my feet. I dared to look through the windows again and sorely wished I hadn't. The fires continued to rage, but it looked like whatever that thing was had begun to come closer and closer, like an unstoppable giant.
Because that wasn't concerning, that wasn't concerning at all! What even was that thing? Could it be stopped? Did someone manage to piss off some sort of Kiju or something? Yeah, I needed to figure out how magic worked if that was the type of stuff a powerful mage could produce.
Of course, there had to be powerful mages on guard of our own. Wardes being an example I knew about. Of course, I could imagine even he would have a hard time bringing something like that down.
However, my job was a different one. I needed to find Agnes and Princess Henrietta, and at least help getting her to a safe location. Yes, the Princess was skilled when it came to fighting, but this thing was not something that could be fought with just simple swords or guns. Getting her and her sister Minnette out of harm's way would be a high priority, regardless. But I couldn't see them. Of course, Agnes had probably been on the move since the first sign of trouble, no orders needed.
As I looked, a slip of purple caught my eye, going down one of the many hallways. Lacking any other options, I weaved my way through the crowd, coming to a long hallway. My eyes gleamed, spotting Henrietta as she moved with her sister down the hallway, with a group of guards to her front, Agnes leading the way. I moved to join them as there was a loud cracking noise. The ceiling came apart, rubble and rocks falling everywhere. I managed to close the distance, pulling back on Henrietta and Minette, rocks nearly falling on where they just stood.
"Aimee!" I heard Henrietta gasp in surprise, while Minette seemed shocked as well.
"Apologies, Princesses. Are you unharmed?" I bowed, trying to keep an air of respect. It was better the pain of a harsh tug upon one's arm than it was rock or mortar to one's head, but being nice would not hurt me here.
"No, I think we're fine, thank you," Henrietta turned toward the mound of rubble, and I knew exactly why. Not only were several guards trapped, provided they hadn't been killed, the same could be said for Agnes herself. "Agnes, are you okay?"
"I'm alright, Princess," her voice rang back from the other side, somewhat distorted by the rocks. Though there was a twinge of pain in her voice, at the very least, she was alive and conscious. "Aimee, if I heard your voice, then you need to get Princess Henrietta and Crown Princess Minette to safety, understand?"
"Yes Ma'am," I did my best to ignore Henrietta's snicker. "And where exactly would that be?"
"There should be a safe room in the lower levels, but given the situation, it might be for the best if you just evacuate the Palace for the time being," I nodded. I could understand an unwillingness to be indoors during the present situation, as both avoided death by a hair's breadth. But taking them out into the open had its own risks.
However, I trusted Agnes and her judgment. If she thought it was a better idea to break into the open, then there was a reason for it, even if I didn't know what that reason was.
"Please, follow me, Princesses," I bowed. "I will do everything in my power to get you to safety."
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
The halls had begun to thin out in terms of people, but there was a problem. With several parts of the ceiling caving in, the path I had to take to get the two out was now muddled. Almost like a winding snake, and I didn't like it. Not one bit.
Then I felt it as I turned the corner, a sudden pressure slamming into my chest, sending me sprawling. My shout of pain was breathless, the wind being knocked clean out of my lungs. I hissed, trying to force myself up, my hand already going towards my pocket, despite the pain.
"Well, well, well," a woman's voice came from where I had been hit from, just as Henrietta rounded the corner. To her credit, Henrietta immediately put herself between this attacker and her sister. The speaker had long, silky black hair, and her skin was pale, almost unnaturally so. "I didn't think I'd be so fortunate to run into Tristian's Princess and crown heir."
Something about her voice sounded twisted, almost sick. My fingers still felt for the brass knuckles in my pocket.
"Stay away from her!" Henrietta snapped, even though she didn't have a weapon to defend herself. The woman's laugh sent a chill up my spine.
"I'd do no such thing," her grin was a twisted thing, as she raised a ring on her hand. "You on the other hand? I'd never thought I'd get an opportunity to make the one who made my Master suffer pay. I'd imagine even a Void mage would have a hard time rallying the country if you killed."
She didn't get further, as my fingers slipped into the brass knuckle in my pocket. My pain became dulled, vigor flooding into my veins like a raging river. In one moment I accelerated, one hand going toward the ring on her finger, while the brass knuckle smashed into the side of the woman's ribs, knocking her back with a crunch.
"Go! I'll hold her off!" I shouted. Henrietta looked as if she were in a daze for a moment, before she shook her head, grabbing hold of Minette's arm, and taking off.
"Stay safe!" She shouted, back, and I could tell it wasn't a request, but an order. I kept my eyes on the woman, who was already standing back up, as I fished the second knuckle out, letting the ring I stole slip into my pocket.
"Most impressive, Gandalfr," the woman said, almost as if her body hadn't produced a sound that signified the breaking of bones. She raised her hand once again. "I suppose, it will be your turn to kill the crown princess instead!"
What? Seriously? That was her plan? I was very thankful I took that ring, then.
I closed the distance, throwing a punch towards the woman's head, but she dodged, a slight scowl on her face. Still, the name tickled the back of my mind. Gandalfr. It certainly wasn't my name, but it was being applied to me. Some type of title, maybe?
"Look lady, just surrender already," I scowled. Magical mind control rings were completely new to me as is. I had no idea what other tricks she had up her sleeve. If I could get her to back down, then I could just take anything that allowed her to cast spells, and find somewhere to tie her up. Instead, the woman just laughed, a dark sick sound, a noise that could only be created by someone who was insane.
"You think you stand a chance against me, young Gandalfr?" Her grin was madness. "I am Lifdrasir and Miodaitnir! You are merely his left hand, while I am the Heart and Mind of God!"
Chapter 10
'Oh shit'.
Words I could have been saying if I had the breath to spare. But given the torrent of flame that engulfed the position I had been standing in moments beforehand, I didn't have anything to spare.
"I was expecting this to be more entertaining, Gandalfr!" the lunatic taunted, though I didn't fall for suckers bait. Yes, she outranged me. She outranged me by quite a bit. But closing the range didn't seem like a good idea. Every instinct in my body screamed to keep away from her. Whatever it was this 'Heart and Mind of God' did, I could conclude. I ducked under a rock as it sailed over my head, scowling all the while.
Magic. Whatever it did, 'it' was magic, and it was a whole lot of it. Well, not pure magic. There was no wand, no staff, or even blade in use by this woman. It was all rings and amulets, various trinkets and baubles. She wasn't a mage. Likely wasn't. But with all the stuff she had and could bring to bear? The line between mage or not was largely hypothetical.
But there was no way in hell this wasn't energy-intensive. There had to be some type of magical battery for her to sustain such an onslaught. I just needed to figure out where it was.
I hucked a rock in her direction, weaving behind another piece of cover as the crumbled ceiling I had been hiding behind exploded in a bolt of lightning. Nothing indicated I had hit her, or even gotten close.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are," I tried to keep my breath silent, as much as possible. Even more impressive than the magic was the fact she was still standing. I'd landed a solid hit on her ribs, probably even broke something, and yet she still didn't seem to notice the injury. Had I misjudged it? Or had she already fixed the damage with magic? Neither was impossible, but I knew I heard something crack, and I could be reasonably certain that something wasn't armor.
I slunk through the rubble, keeping out of sight. She was looking for me, but it looked as if she'd lost track of me. I wasn't exactly silent, but between the crackling of the fire, the groans of the ceiling as walls, and the sound of fighting that got even closer and closer with each passing minute? Made for an excellent cover for my sculking about.
That was another problem, though it was one I could do much less about. For now, I needed to be sure this nutcase stayed away from Henrietta. I waited for the exact moment, springing from cover in a heartbeat. If she wasn't surprised, she certainly did act like it, as I grabbed hold of her arm, pulling it up and away from her body.
My right hand found its target, an uppercut straight into her armpit. This time, the pain was obvious, with her letting out a scream of pain. I couldn't tell if it was simply because I broke the bone, or if I had simply knocked it out of its socket. Then came her other arm, landing underneath one of my ribs, before a blast of wind knocked me backward. I was able to roll, pushing myself back to my feet, only to watch as the woman's bones seemed to twist and contort back into shape. A cruel smirk grew upon her lips, before she launched a fireball in my direction, sending me scrambling for cover.
Right. Magic. Magical goddamn bullshit. The worst part was, I wasn't even sure Agnes's advice of getting the mage talking would work here. Provided she was a mage in the first place. I hucked another decent-sized rock, hearing it clatter against the ground in another miss.
"That's adorable," she taunted as I scowled.
"Oh, you can bite my ass," I ground out, staying on the move so she couldn't easily pinpoint my position. Provided she wasn't playing with her food, an event I simply couldn't rule out.
"How rude. Are you sure the Princess taught you any manners?" I was tempted to flip her off from behind cover, but that defeated the point.
"Oh please. Manners? Why exactly would some twisted psycho like yourself give a damn about manners? You're the one breaking into a palace to kill people, jackass," I shot back, before shifting my weight again as the woman cackled.
"That wasn't my assigned task," the woman let out a tisk as if she were disciplining me. "Sure, getting unwilling fratricide would be pleasant for me and my master, but it certainly isn't our goal."
"I'm guessing the whole stone thing outside wasn't your distraction, either?" I ground out, pushing aside her whole master talk. What the hell did that mean, anyway? Was she bound to follow someone's orders somehow? By magic? That was the only thing I could think of at the moment.
"It was, actually," another ball of flame engulfed my former hiding spot as I growled. She wasn't tired out, and I was running out of cover. Which was, not great. If I completely ran out of cover, I was hosed. And my attempt to break her arm was met with only temporary results at best. The only remaining, even possibly workable option, was to try and bludgeon her into unconsciousness so she couldn't use whatever it was that fixed her bones the first time.
Just attacking did not sound like a good idea. But in the end, what choice did I have? My cover was going up in smoke when it wasn't being blown away or blasted to pieces. So if I was going to do something, I was going to have to act soon.
I grabbed another small rock off the ground, peaking my head out from behind cover. Gripping it to the point my knuckles began to pale, I hurled the improved projectile with all my strength. It flew through the air, connecting with the woman's head. I dashed forward, grabbing the woman's head, bringing my knee up as I yanked down her face to meet it. Once. Twice. Three times.
She grabbed at me, fingers clawing for something, anything to hold on to. I released my left hand, before pushing her head towards the ground with all the strength I could muster. Even then, she tried to grasp at me, as my foot lashed out in a kick, sending her form across the room.
My body quaked, and with the adrenaline beginning to die, I began to notice things. How my body was covered in sweat. The various cuts and burns that now covered my skin. The dull pain of everything hurting all at once. The smoke filled the air at an ever-increasing rate. The urge to just lay down and rest.
I looked over to the woman. Was she, unconscious? She didn't look like she was moving. At least, not anymore. Should I, grab her? She probably had a lot of information, but I had no idea when she'd return to consciousness. Nasty concussion and broken nose aside, how much had I hurt her, anyway?
I coughed, inhaling smoke. Leaving her here wasn't a good idea, but my muscles were screaming at me for breathing. I don't think I could carry her out, even if I wished to do so. I should probably get out while I still had the time.
BOOM!
I heard it before I felt it. Before I could see it. I didn't even think I screamed in pain as a lightning bolt slammed into my chest, knocking me off my feet.
"That was almost impressive," the woman, no, human-shaped monster, cackled. "I'll admit, I felt that. Maybe if you had just a bit more skill, you might have had a chance."
She paused for a moment. "No, most certainly not. The fact you thought you had a chance. How adorable."
There was a clacking of feet, my eyes struggling to open as I felt a weight on my chest.
"Hand over the ring, girl, and I'll make sure you live through this," there was a madness in her voice. "Maybe. But you'll have to kill your master to do it."
I grabbed hold of her leg, before using my free arm to bash into her vulnerable knee. Bones twisted and cracked, but still, she remained almost unphased.
"I was trying to be polite, you know. But it seems like you don't have manners," she giggled at me. "What a shame, I figured we could be such …"
I felt something warm fall on my chest, as her voice cut off suddenly. A moment later, the pressure on my chest was gone. I took a moment to open my eyes, only to see.
The King? What was he doing here? Why was he here? What had happened to?
Oh. She was holding her throat, as blood drippled between her fingers. However, her fingers left her neck slowly, the bleeding having stopped.
"Sheffield, what have you done to yourself?" The man asked with a look of pure disgust written on his face. He, knew this woman?
"My former Master," this time her voice was contorted in nothing but hate and fury. "How, unfortunate, the fire didn't claim you already."
"The sentiment is shared, for once," King Joseph kept his blade up, ready to strike. "Whatever you and your new master's plan is, it ends now."
She let out a cackle, a sound that almost dripped with pure poison and insanity. "Of course, you think that, my old Master. But my new Master? No, no. I'm not so easy to kill now, don't you see? He's showered me with so many wonderful gifts."
There was a faint twitch on Joseph's face that I couldn't quite place. Acknowledgment that she was right, that even hurting her seemed impossible, as far as getting anything to stick went. Or maybe it was something else.
"Ops, I wasn't supposed to tell you that," in a moment, she went from laughing mad to giggling like a schoolgirl. This lady was stark, utter, mad. She was, insane. There was no other word for it. A stark, raving mad, quite possibly immortal nutcase. Pain radiated throughout my body, as I tried to gather the strength to stand. The air was still filling with smoke, and it made it hard to breathe, even as low to the grand as I was.
I felt my fingers grasp for something, anything, I could make use of. Once I found it, I picked it up and threw it at her. It was never going to hit. Even if I lobbed it with all the strength I could muster there was no way it could strike her, much less inflict an injury worth of note.
But it didn't have to.
"Would you stop throwing rocks at me you insolent!"
"Haste!" As she turned towards me, King Joseph spoke a single word. Then the man blurred, his sword once again burying itself in her throat, followed by more. Arms, chest, legs, cuts, slashes, and stabs, rained down on her in a brutal onslaught. I couldn't follow the movements, merely the dance of blood that surrounded the two. With one final thrust, Sheffield fell to the ground. King Joseph stepped back, not sheathing his sword, keeping his eyes on her.
Each second felt as if it went on for minutes, the silence filled with the crackling of flames. A crackling that was drowned out by her laugh as her body began to stitch itself back together. I pushed myself back onto my feet, focusing on the sound of her laughter. Joseph, on the other hand, heard something over it, darting back just in time as part of the ceiling came crashing down on top of her.
But even as the stone fell, I could still hear her laughter. Even after, I could swear I heard her, still cackling like a lunatic.
Or that could have been my body's strength giving out on me. I coughed in an attempt to force the smoke out of my lungs, as the world seemed to dim. Smoke. Needed to get lower, away from the fumes. Needed to prevent the toxin from entering my lungs. Needed to.
Thump.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
"Your maidservant is very brave," it was a true statement, and saving the young woman's life would at least earn some degree of good grace from her Master. The Princess's heart was just as large as he heard it was, given her concern for everyone caught up in the attack. But little of today had gone as expected. He knew there would be some form of trap. He doubted the events were a coincidence, though he had little proof that it wasn't. There was a fine line between expecting the unexpected, and paranoia.
His agent's suspicions had proven correct. That Henrietta was the Void Mage he had been looking for. Tristan's Void Mage. But today, complicated matters. He had an idea of what Sheffield was here for. However, the odds of her getting to the Void Relic at this point were small. Even if he couldn't kill his former familiar.
Part of him scowled internally at the thought. What had Sheffield been willing to do to herself? The how was obvious. The Mind of God, allowing for the use of magical artifacts, mixed with the Heart of God, which was bottomless magical energy, a wellspring of power. Combining the two Runes, and you had a threat that very few things could match. Especially if one was willing to sink to the depths that Sheffield was willing to. She was likely far from as unkillable as she put on, and the fire would ideally do the trick. Far from painless, but it would work.
He was lucky to show up when he did. There was no doubt in his mind that Sheffield would have killed the newly minted Gandalfr otherwise. And the results would not be pretty. Enough that they could have smothered his plans to stop Albion's descent into madness and the Pope's willingness to retread on the path of Brimir's mistake in grief.
While he would have done so anyway, it still was part of a means to an end. One Void Mage was utterly mad. The other? Willing to slaughter hundreds of thousands, if not more. He needed allies, and while his brother was smart and clever, there was only so much they could do with a single Void Mage without a familiar in play. That Void Mage being a teenager was, less than ideal, but it was the option he had, whether he liked it or not. And it was not as if she had her advisors. The Cardinal was a capable and competent man, to have been able to keep the secret for such a long time.
However, that was a discussion that would have to wait. The situation on the ground was far from resolved. Part of the palace was wreathed in flames, only being beaten back by the Queen herself, with the help of a few other mages, had created a rainstorm above the palace, drenching the flames.
But there was still the golem. How Sheffield had managed to acquire the services of a mage of such caliber was unknown, but he had every reason to believe it wasn't willing. That had proven to be the biggest problem, including the many escaped prisoners running amok. A golem of that size wasn't impossible to deal with, but it had managed to stay standing, weathering the storm of attacks launched against it with strange ease. The mage was perched atop its shoulder, using part of the stone as cover.
And with a handful of criminals also providing cover, possibly forced along by the same means as the golem summoner, it was difficult to get an angle on the target. A firearm at sufficient range might do the trick, but to pull off an accurate shot at that range would be difficult.
Unless. The Gandalfr might be able to pull off such a shot.
But the girl was currently being healed by Crown Princesses Minette. And even if her healing was enough to return the girl to a conscious state, that didn't mean she'd be able to shoot, much less fight. He was surprised she managed to remain standing for so long with her injuries. None of them looked immediately life-threatening, but that was to say nothing of the injuries he couldn't see.
Not to say that the ones he could see were pleasant. Parts of her uniform, clearly not an outfit designed for fighting, and been blasted, burned, or cut away, and had taken parts of her skin with it. Cuts and burns were the most prominent injuries, mostly burns, and while Minette's magic was doing what it could, she was young, and under considerable stress. A more advanced healer would be required to fix the worst of the burns. However, the Queen was busy putting out the fires, and many other healers were sorting out the other injured.
Truthfully, he was surprised she had remained conscious for that long. Still, things could not be maintained much longer. The golem, and this rate, its master, would need to go. Too much had been destroyed, and there was still Sheffield to possibly worry about in the aftermath of this chaos. At least what happened could be spun as an attempt to kill both rulers, giving a better excuse for an Alliance.
Suddenly, there was a loud crack, the sound of a gunshot echoing through the air. Joseph watched as the mage on the golem's shoulder suddenly fell off, the golem starting to crumble away into a harmless pile of dirt. A griffin dove towards the ground, managing to grab the mage before they splattered against the ground. He recognized the man riding on the griffin's back, even at a distance.
That was good. While many would be baying for the death of the mage involved, they had information. Information that was worth its weight in gold. They had been shot, of course, so they weren't out of the woods yet. But if they managed to survive, then he would try and get every ounce of information out of them that he could.
He needed to know who Albion's Void Mage was. Sheffield had made a mistake. One that she tried to laugh off, but it was information that he knew would prove most valuable. Even a gender was more information than he had at the moment, even if it was vague. While it could be any number of descendants born from the loyal line, illegitimate ones by volume, the fact that they were male was telling. However, that might not be the case. King James had many sons, though significantly fewer were among the living than was the case a few years ago.
Had one survived where they were otherwise believed to be dead? Or had something even worse come to pass?
Words I could have been saying if I had the breath to spare. But given the torrent of flame that engulfed the position I had been standing in moments beforehand, I didn't have anything to spare.
"I was expecting this to be more entertaining, Gandalfr!" the lunatic taunted, though I didn't fall for suckers bait. Yes, she outranged me. She outranged me by quite a bit. But closing the range didn't seem like a good idea. Every instinct in my body screamed to keep away from her. Whatever it was this 'Heart and Mind of God' did, I could conclude. I ducked under a rock as it sailed over my head, scowling all the while.
Magic. Whatever it did, 'it' was magic, and it was a whole lot of it. Well, not pure magic. There was no wand, no staff, or even blade in use by this woman. It was all rings and amulets, various trinkets and baubles. She wasn't a mage. Likely wasn't. But with all the stuff she had and could bring to bear? The line between mage or not was largely hypothetical.
But there was no way in hell this wasn't energy-intensive. There had to be some type of magical battery for her to sustain such an onslaught. I just needed to figure out where it was.
I hucked a rock in her direction, weaving behind another piece of cover as the crumbled ceiling I had been hiding behind exploded in a bolt of lightning. Nothing indicated I had hit her, or even gotten close.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are," I tried to keep my breath silent, as much as possible. Even more impressive than the magic was the fact she was still standing. I'd landed a solid hit on her ribs, probably even broke something, and yet she still didn't seem to notice the injury. Had I misjudged it? Or had she already fixed the damage with magic? Neither was impossible, but I knew I heard something crack, and I could be reasonably certain that something wasn't armor.
I slunk through the rubble, keeping out of sight. She was looking for me, but it looked as if she'd lost track of me. I wasn't exactly silent, but between the crackling of the fire, the groans of the ceiling as walls, and the sound of fighting that got even closer and closer with each passing minute? Made for an excellent cover for my sculking about.
That was another problem, though it was one I could do much less about. For now, I needed to be sure this nutcase stayed away from Henrietta. I waited for the exact moment, springing from cover in a heartbeat. If she wasn't surprised, she certainly did act like it, as I grabbed hold of her arm, pulling it up and away from her body.
My right hand found its target, an uppercut straight into her armpit. This time, the pain was obvious, with her letting out a scream of pain. I couldn't tell if it was simply because I broke the bone, or if I had simply knocked it out of its socket. Then came her other arm, landing underneath one of my ribs, before a blast of wind knocked me backward. I was able to roll, pushing myself back to my feet, only to watch as the woman's bones seemed to twist and contort back into shape. A cruel smirk grew upon her lips, before she launched a fireball in my direction, sending me scrambling for cover.
Right. Magic. Magical goddamn bullshit. The worst part was, I wasn't even sure Agnes's advice of getting the mage talking would work here. Provided she was a mage in the first place. I hucked another decent-sized rock, hearing it clatter against the ground in another miss.
"That's adorable," she taunted as I scowled.
"Oh, you can bite my ass," I ground out, staying on the move so she couldn't easily pinpoint my position. Provided she wasn't playing with her food, an event I simply couldn't rule out.
"How rude. Are you sure the Princess taught you any manners?" I was tempted to flip her off from behind cover, but that defeated the point.
"Oh please. Manners? Why exactly would some twisted psycho like yourself give a damn about manners? You're the one breaking into a palace to kill people, jackass," I shot back, before shifting my weight again as the woman cackled.
"That wasn't my assigned task," the woman let out a tisk as if she were disciplining me. "Sure, getting unwilling fratricide would be pleasant for me and my master, but it certainly isn't our goal."
"I'm guessing the whole stone thing outside wasn't your distraction, either?" I ground out, pushing aside her whole master talk. What the hell did that mean, anyway? Was she bound to follow someone's orders somehow? By magic? That was the only thing I could think of at the moment.
"It was, actually," another ball of flame engulfed my former hiding spot as I growled. She wasn't tired out, and I was running out of cover. Which was, not great. If I completely ran out of cover, I was hosed. And my attempt to break her arm was met with only temporary results at best. The only remaining, even possibly workable option, was to try and bludgeon her into unconsciousness so she couldn't use whatever it was that fixed her bones the first time.
Just attacking did not sound like a good idea. But in the end, what choice did I have? My cover was going up in smoke when it wasn't being blown away or blasted to pieces. So if I was going to do something, I was going to have to act soon.
I grabbed another small rock off the ground, peaking my head out from behind cover. Gripping it to the point my knuckles began to pale, I hurled the improved projectile with all my strength. It flew through the air, connecting with the woman's head. I dashed forward, grabbing the woman's head, bringing my knee up as I yanked down her face to meet it. Once. Twice. Three times.
She grabbed at me, fingers clawing for something, anything to hold on to. I released my left hand, before pushing her head towards the ground with all the strength I could muster. Even then, she tried to grasp at me, as my foot lashed out in a kick, sending her form across the room.
My body quaked, and with the adrenaline beginning to die, I began to notice things. How my body was covered in sweat. The various cuts and burns that now covered my skin. The dull pain of everything hurting all at once. The smoke filled the air at an ever-increasing rate. The urge to just lay down and rest.
I looked over to the woman. Was she, unconscious? She didn't look like she was moving. At least, not anymore. Should I, grab her? She probably had a lot of information, but I had no idea when she'd return to consciousness. Nasty concussion and broken nose aside, how much had I hurt her, anyway?
I coughed, inhaling smoke. Leaving her here wasn't a good idea, but my muscles were screaming at me for breathing. I don't think I could carry her out, even if I wished to do so. I should probably get out while I still had the time.
BOOM!
I heard it before I felt it. Before I could see it. I didn't even think I screamed in pain as a lightning bolt slammed into my chest, knocking me off my feet.
"That was almost impressive," the woman, no, human-shaped monster, cackled. "I'll admit, I felt that. Maybe if you had just a bit more skill, you might have had a chance."
She paused for a moment. "No, most certainly not. The fact you thought you had a chance. How adorable."
There was a clacking of feet, my eyes struggling to open as I felt a weight on my chest.
"Hand over the ring, girl, and I'll make sure you live through this," there was a madness in her voice. "Maybe. But you'll have to kill your master to do it."
I grabbed hold of her leg, before using my free arm to bash into her vulnerable knee. Bones twisted and cracked, but still, she remained almost unphased.
"I was trying to be polite, you know. But it seems like you don't have manners," she giggled at me. "What a shame, I figured we could be such …"
I felt something warm fall on my chest, as her voice cut off suddenly. A moment later, the pressure on my chest was gone. I took a moment to open my eyes, only to see.
The King? What was he doing here? Why was he here? What had happened to?
Oh. She was holding her throat, as blood drippled between her fingers. However, her fingers left her neck slowly, the bleeding having stopped.
"Sheffield, what have you done to yourself?" The man asked with a look of pure disgust written on his face. He, knew this woman?
"My former Master," this time her voice was contorted in nothing but hate and fury. "How, unfortunate, the fire didn't claim you already."
"The sentiment is shared, for once," King Joseph kept his blade up, ready to strike. "Whatever you and your new master's plan is, it ends now."
She let out a cackle, a sound that almost dripped with pure poison and insanity. "Of course, you think that, my old Master. But my new Master? No, no. I'm not so easy to kill now, don't you see? He's showered me with so many wonderful gifts."
There was a faint twitch on Joseph's face that I couldn't quite place. Acknowledgment that she was right, that even hurting her seemed impossible, as far as getting anything to stick went. Or maybe it was something else.
"Ops, I wasn't supposed to tell you that," in a moment, she went from laughing mad to giggling like a schoolgirl. This lady was stark, utter, mad. She was, insane. There was no other word for it. A stark, raving mad, quite possibly immortal nutcase. Pain radiated throughout my body, as I tried to gather the strength to stand. The air was still filling with smoke, and it made it hard to breathe, even as low to the grand as I was.
I felt my fingers grasp for something, anything, I could make use of. Once I found it, I picked it up and threw it at her. It was never going to hit. Even if I lobbed it with all the strength I could muster there was no way it could strike her, much less inflict an injury worth of note.
But it didn't have to.
"Would you stop throwing rocks at me you insolent!"
"Haste!" As she turned towards me, King Joseph spoke a single word. Then the man blurred, his sword once again burying itself in her throat, followed by more. Arms, chest, legs, cuts, slashes, and stabs, rained down on her in a brutal onslaught. I couldn't follow the movements, merely the dance of blood that surrounded the two. With one final thrust, Sheffield fell to the ground. King Joseph stepped back, not sheathing his sword, keeping his eyes on her.
Each second felt as if it went on for minutes, the silence filled with the crackling of flames. A crackling that was drowned out by her laugh as her body began to stitch itself back together. I pushed myself back onto my feet, focusing on the sound of her laughter. Joseph, on the other hand, heard something over it, darting back just in time as part of the ceiling came crashing down on top of her.
But even as the stone fell, I could still hear her laughter. Even after, I could swear I heard her, still cackling like a lunatic.
Or that could have been my body's strength giving out on me. I coughed in an attempt to force the smoke out of my lungs, as the world seemed to dim. Smoke. Needed to get lower, away from the fumes. Needed to prevent the toxin from entering my lungs. Needed to.
Thump.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
"Your maidservant is very brave," it was a true statement, and saving the young woman's life would at least earn some degree of good grace from her Master. The Princess's heart was just as large as he heard it was, given her concern for everyone caught up in the attack. But little of today had gone as expected. He knew there would be some form of trap. He doubted the events were a coincidence, though he had little proof that it wasn't. There was a fine line between expecting the unexpected, and paranoia.
His agent's suspicions had proven correct. That Henrietta was the Void Mage he had been looking for. Tristan's Void Mage. But today, complicated matters. He had an idea of what Sheffield was here for. However, the odds of her getting to the Void Relic at this point were small. Even if he couldn't kill his former familiar.
Part of him scowled internally at the thought. What had Sheffield been willing to do to herself? The how was obvious. The Mind of God, allowing for the use of magical artifacts, mixed with the Heart of God, which was bottomless magical energy, a wellspring of power. Combining the two Runes, and you had a threat that very few things could match. Especially if one was willing to sink to the depths that Sheffield was willing to. She was likely far from as unkillable as she put on, and the fire would ideally do the trick. Far from painless, but it would work.
He was lucky to show up when he did. There was no doubt in his mind that Sheffield would have killed the newly minted Gandalfr otherwise. And the results would not be pretty. Enough that they could have smothered his plans to stop Albion's descent into madness and the Pope's willingness to retread on the path of Brimir's mistake in grief.
While he would have done so anyway, it still was part of a means to an end. One Void Mage was utterly mad. The other? Willing to slaughter hundreds of thousands, if not more. He needed allies, and while his brother was smart and clever, there was only so much they could do with a single Void Mage without a familiar in play. That Void Mage being a teenager was, less than ideal, but it was the option he had, whether he liked it or not. And it was not as if she had her advisors. The Cardinal was a capable and competent man, to have been able to keep the secret for such a long time.
However, that was a discussion that would have to wait. The situation on the ground was far from resolved. Part of the palace was wreathed in flames, only being beaten back by the Queen herself, with the help of a few other mages, had created a rainstorm above the palace, drenching the flames.
But there was still the golem. How Sheffield had managed to acquire the services of a mage of such caliber was unknown, but he had every reason to believe it wasn't willing. That had proven to be the biggest problem, including the many escaped prisoners running amok. A golem of that size wasn't impossible to deal with, but it had managed to stay standing, weathering the storm of attacks launched against it with strange ease. The mage was perched atop its shoulder, using part of the stone as cover.
And with a handful of criminals also providing cover, possibly forced along by the same means as the golem summoner, it was difficult to get an angle on the target. A firearm at sufficient range might do the trick, but to pull off an accurate shot at that range would be difficult.
Unless. The Gandalfr might be able to pull off such a shot.
But the girl was currently being healed by Crown Princesses Minette. And even if her healing was enough to return the girl to a conscious state, that didn't mean she'd be able to shoot, much less fight. He was surprised she managed to remain standing for so long with her injuries. None of them looked immediately life-threatening, but that was to say nothing of the injuries he couldn't see.
Not to say that the ones he could see were pleasant. Parts of her uniform, clearly not an outfit designed for fighting, and been blasted, burned, or cut away, and had taken parts of her skin with it. Cuts and burns were the most prominent injuries, mostly burns, and while Minette's magic was doing what it could, she was young, and under considerable stress. A more advanced healer would be required to fix the worst of the burns. However, the Queen was busy putting out the fires, and many other healers were sorting out the other injured.
Truthfully, he was surprised she had remained conscious for that long. Still, things could not be maintained much longer. The golem, and this rate, its master, would need to go. Too much had been destroyed, and there was still Sheffield to possibly worry about in the aftermath of this chaos. At least what happened could be spun as an attempt to kill both rulers, giving a better excuse for an Alliance.
Suddenly, there was a loud crack, the sound of a gunshot echoing through the air. Joseph watched as the mage on the golem's shoulder suddenly fell off, the golem starting to crumble away into a harmless pile of dirt. A griffin dove towards the ground, managing to grab the mage before they splattered against the ground. He recognized the man riding on the griffin's back, even at a distance.
That was good. While many would be baying for the death of the mage involved, they had information. Information that was worth its weight in gold. They had been shot, of course, so they weren't out of the woods yet. But if they managed to survive, then he would try and get every ounce of information out of them that he could.
He needed to know who Albion's Void Mage was. Sheffield had made a mistake. One that she tried to laugh off, but it was information that he knew would prove most valuable. Even a gender was more information than he had at the moment, even if it was vague. While it could be any number of descendants born from the loyal line, illegitimate ones by volume, the fact that they were male was telling. However, that might not be the case. King James had many sons, though significantly fewer were among the living than was the case a few years ago.
Had one survived where they were otherwise believed to be dead? Or had something even worse come to pass?