With a cheerful song on her lips, the joyful Mata Hari gently shined the top of the bar counter. Carefully and delicately, she made small and smooth circular motions until the surface reflected like a mirror. She smiled at her image before quickly readjusting the top of her salon uniform. The assassin loved looking beautiful and tempting, but she definitely did not want to appear as a total floozy. She was, after all, Chaldea's appreciated social butterfly, but she still maintained her new ideal image.

She gazed up towards the French table, where her partner Sanson was personally delivering the dinnertime drinks to the rest of their co-workers. He would be back shortly, but she had no cause for worry unless someone ordered a difficult or highly unusual mix. All those times practicing with their mutual lessons had surely paid off, and both had wound up better for it. The trade certainly did wonders for her confidence, even if she always appeared completely unfazed by anything on the outside.

Upon hearing gentle laughter and approaching feet, she turned to the approaching couple with a smile. The Egyptian assassin's new off-shoulder dress hugged her body and had a daringly high side slit that teased her bare leg as she strolled. Though she loved being fashionable, the view was always reserved for the man in the tailored black suit beside her. Mata Hari giggled, "Well if it isn't the Pharaoh Cleopatra and Emperor Caesar come to grace me with their royal presence! Shall I be flattering you two with the usual this evening?"

"If you please, Mata Hari," Cleopatra responded for both of them with an appreciative smile. Without a moment of hesitation, she playfully bowed to them to lure out their laughter. Quickly, she skipped over to the wines and prudently picked out one of the Italian brands. "I hear Rome's expedition was fruitful this afternoon."

"Yes, yes. You are correct," Caesar offered with an upbeat tone. "Nero found a rare dress she wished to have retailored. I'm afraid I can't say much more since she swore Romulus and I to secrecy."

"I'm sure she'll be boasting to me about it soon enough," Cleopatra mused, making the three of them chuckle. "Or maybe I could coax my dear Caesar into letting something… accidentally slip to me."

With smooth movement, Mata Hari picked two wine glasses from the rack while she glanced at the two whispering lovers. She found herself watching unconsciously as a mix of allure, adoration, and playful begging filled Cleopatra's eyes. Caesar stared back fondly, with a teasing glint in his own eyes as he continued to keep the promise to his fellow Roman. Despite not budging, their tiny smiles and chuckles wrote a novel for the bartending assassin.

After placing the glasses on the table, Mata Hari poured the fine red wine into them. Carefully measured by eye, but done within seconds, the glasses mirrored each other perfectly as the couple picked their glasses in opposite hands. Cleopatra smiled, "Thank you. You're such a dear."

"I hope your evening shines well, Mata Hari." Caesar raised his glass to the bartender, who curtsied with a giggle.

"You're always welcome! Enjoy your night, you two!" the bartending assassin replied as the two began walking away. They chuckled lightly between each other as Cleopatra moved slightly closer to the bigger man. Mata Hari's eyes wandered downward as his chubbier digits reached for their opposite to gently hold. She didn't even care if Sanson saw the glint in her eyes as he returned.

The longing and envious emotion in her eyes as she stared at the couple's now intertwined hands mirrored the pure wish of her heart.

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

Fragment 53: Radiance of her Heart

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

"It'll happen one day. Don't lose your hold on that hope."

"Oh, I know… but thanks, Sanson," Mata Hari responded softly as she gently sighed. "I'm just getting a little impatient is all. I'm allowed to be, no?"

"You have a right to be after so long, but your wish can be answered with further patience," the white-haired assassin offered as he gently speared his salad beside her. "I hope all the trouble washes away when he waltzes through that door and picks you up in his strong yet gentle arms."

Mata Hari giggled. "Marie's exact words sound very funny and a little awkward coming from you, Sanson."

"It does… but it returned your smile, or am I wrong?" The man merely smirked. "Even if he doesn't come through the doors, who knows. Maybe it's someone already here and you don't know it yet."

"Me? Chaldea's playful matchmaker… not knowing?" she teased with a giggle. "I doubt it… I would think I should know, if anyone."

"Perhaps… but the melody of the heart can always take one for surprise with its next notes," Sanson shrugged, making Mata Hari pleasantly roll her eyes.

"You're letting Mozart get to you too it seems…" she chuckled, but smiled. "I keep an open mind about it too, but thanks for the encouragement."

"You're very welcome. Consider it another form of repayment, since the patrons I handle no longer feel like they're talking to a robot."

While subduing another giggle, the female assassin smiled warmly at her partner before she turned back to her own garden salad. She never expected the often stoic Sanson could be such a good friend, but once one broke past the harder shell, that's the sight that awaited. She found it curious she's made quite a few peculiar dear friendships, just like she did with Ishtar, but she was glad it happened. As one, Sanson was one of the few who knew intricately of her wish, and all the emotions and tears that came with such a simple desire.

Compared to several others, her wish was far more grounded in reality. There was no desire to undo something in the past or to create something entirely new. It wasn't some grand wish that could save humanity or anything; She was merely simple girl with rather ordinary ambitions. Just by being in Chaldea, she had the chance of obtaining her small and somewhat secret wish without the need of any grail, magecraft, or magic.

Mata Hari merely wanted a loving family.

Her only marriage had been a disaster at best. It had ended in a divorce, but it suited her better than her former counterpart. It was a marriage born out of possible boons rather than love, and that had been her biggest regret in life. The man's show of appreciation was questionable at best, especially considering the domestic abuse involved; Marie has a very sharp opinion about personally teaching that 'uncivilized brute' a lesson should Chaldea ever encounter him.

Time with her children was also a mixed memory at best. She had lost one of her dear children to illness, and then her ex-husband took their daughter away so she would never see them again. She had accepted it, since he was always a better father than a husband, but not without endless nights filled with tears. Her life had collapsed, and she was found even further back than where she started. Even still, she held onto that optimism stubbornly.

Perhaps that's why she got so desperate back then. Just struggling to earn a living to get her dream, she had erupted with fame for her exotic dancing. Just barely getting by at first, she was gradually elevated to international status. She still clutched dearly to the idea she would finally find the real man of her dreams and raise a proper family with him, but it would not come to pass. Regardless of what she did, fate was certain to ensure she would never get that loving family she always sought.

With her terrible past life in mind, it was no surprise why she was so enthusiastic about her new life. Her former troubles were now just bad memories among countless others with tragic pasts. With so many heroes with more disparaging backgrounds finding their own pockets of euphoria, she couldn't bring herself to feel depressed. She would do what she could to help brighten their lives through the little things, and brought herself happiness by doing so. Even if she couldn't do as much on the battlefield, she was always optimistic she could be helpful in others ways.

"Hey, bartenders! I'd like a round of Beamish Stout for my friends!" She stopped Sanson by quickly rising to her feet and placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Coming right up, handsome~!" Mata Hari playfully replied, causing the approaching trio to laugh. She quickly made her way to the mugs as Cu and his flanking fellow lancers came to a stop further down the counter. The trio wore black formal pants and white dress shirts for a more formal dinner meeting, though their accompanying vest was different; Cu had royal blue, Li wore red, and Diarmuid sported jade.

They talked among themselves as Mata Hari happily poured their glasses. Figuring they must have run out a touch too early, she decided to pour them a second round just in case; They had an overstock on the particular brand, and it'd be a shame to let it sit. Upon starting the second rounds, Cu cheered in delight, causing his other two companions to laugh. "Yeah! An extra! How generous of you!"

"Aren't I always~?" she teased with a giggle. Gripping the six handles between her hands, she easily brought the six large mugs to the lancers. She winked at their small round of applause, even if it was a task done with long-honed finesse. It helped the drink was pre-made. "Oh, stop."

"Compliments are compliments," Li shrugged before firing a little smirk her way. "But nothing beats the compliment of comparing wushu in battle!"

Mata Hari giggled nervously. "Are you asking for a spar? With this frail little flower? I'm not much of a fighter you know…"

"Don't be modest, Mata Hari," Diarmuid offered with a comforting smile. "Weak or not, you did become a servant. Someone found you worthy."

Appreciative of his words, Mata Hari smiled back sweetly at the Irish lancer. As often as many reassured her she was worthy of being here, she couldn't help but feel almost useless from time to time. The encouraging words were extra sweet coming from the handsome lancer, who had acknowledged himself he wasn't as powerful as many others either; His parameters were still leagues above hers though. Thankfully, there were so many here to support her just as she did all she could to care for them through the little touches of home and happiness.

"Which means she's more than capable of a spar!" Li pointed out, making the female assassin sign in exasperation as Sanson chuckled further away. "Ah… I'm only joking, but if you wish to have a fight, I never turn one down!"

"I'm not sure you have any other hobbies, Li," Diarmuid chuckled as he picked up his two mugs. "Thanks though, Mata Hari. We appreciate it."

"At least this gentleman has manners," she declared with a feigned and exaggerated expression of pain. She giggled as they laughed. "You boys be good now~!"

"No promises!" Cu laughed back as he grabbed his mugs with care. She winked at him, and he playfully winked back before briskly walking to catch up with Li and Diarmuid. Feeling satisfied, she walked back to her salad with an accomplished twinkle in her eye for bringing a little more cheer to someone's day.

With Sanson's words fresh in her mind, she couldn't help but notice how nonchalant she had become around so many handsome heroes. Then again, she was rather blasé about being surrounded by men considering her past profession. Not wanting to carry it into her new second life, she reserved herself and batted away occasional casual invitations from others, like Fergus. She had her new ideal image as a fun loving but self-respecting woman to uphold. Her wish was to be a housewife, not a tramp again.

She pondered if maybe her bartending partner had a point, and she was glossing over something herself. Did he see something she didn't? It made her second guess if her playful flirting had unintentional been leading others on by accident, but it didn't seem to be the case. Perhaps someone had unknowingly taken interest and she was in for a surprise? Maybe he was right under her nose? Or maybe she didn't notice his adva-

With a small sigh, she sorted her rampant thoughts; Her romance novels were certainly having their little effect on her. Sanson looked up as she was about to sit, but his eyes didn't look her way. Upon hearing the running footsteps of a small group, her eyes lit up. "Ah, looks like-"

"No! Sit, I got this~!" Mata Hari giggled enthusiastically as Sanson feigned irritation, but smirked. She quickly moved to meet the four approaching child servants with overflowing bliss.


¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ III ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨


While most in Chaldea kept showers, a few rooms recently had them partially replaced with custom bathtubs. Mata Hari was one of those that requested the service when it became available, because she adored bubble baths; It was always the perfect way to end her evenings. Her special preparations always ensured any lingering stress would melt away.

The suds formed a blanket on the surface of the steaming bath, covering the entire assassin and concealing her nude form. Lavender-scented warmth filled the air as it escaped from the bubbly tub. They were joined by a few bath side candles to provide light in the dimmed room. Soft violin music filled the bathroom from a lone, countertop radio to further enchant her private time. To top it all off, the cake's icing was simple: wonderful reading material.

Content with the evening, Mata Hari giggled as she flipped the page on her current romance novel. Beside her, a maple side table kept her bookmark and candles dry while her white silk nightgown and towel rested on a rack above it. Her toilet seat had a custom, fluffy white cover, even if she didn't need to use it. She merely liked decorating her living space, which was why the mirror had Broadway-style bulb lighting around its perimeter for a nostalgic throwback to her stage days.

Engrossed in her novel, she blushed lightly and withheld a squeal as she got to a romantic part. Though not as much of a book aficionado like Medusa, Mata Hari did enjoy her fair bit of reading. For the most part, she stuck to romance novels for obvious reasons. She did enjoy a good mystery book here and there; A detective series by Bill Pronzini that Hans offhandedly suggested seized most of her attention in that genre.

Some larger bubbles gently popped as a new track started. She slid herself up a little higher in the tub to ensure she wouldn't accidentally fall into a comfortable sleep and ruin her book. Her eyes snapped upon hearing a gentle knocking against the wall behind her, which made her giggle. "Yes, Arash?"

"Ah, so that's why you didn't answer your door!" the male archer chuckled through the wall. "I was wondering if you wanted to go boogie boarding with Arthur, Bryn, and I tomorrow afternoon?"

"Oh? Bryn's alone with you stallions? I better come to make sure nothing scandalous happens," she teased, making the archer laugh as she giggled. Sporadic bath time chats through the wall were always enjoyable when your neighbor was Arash. "Sure! I was going to sunbathe and read anyway."

"Great, see you then, Mari! I'll leave you to your bath in peace! I bet it's as steamy as your novel!"

Mata Hari blushed incredulously but laughed. "It's not an erotic novel you goofball!"

"Oh sure it's not! My mistake, Mari!" he teased one last time, making her sigh in exasperation. She couldn't keep the warm smile off her face as she turned the page.


¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ IV ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨


Fantasia Resort was quiet, with only a few scattered servants scattered throughout its massive area. The palm trees blew with the gentle wind, rustling their leaves though the attached coconuts clung strongly to their perches. A few cleaning robots were dusting off the boardwalk and ensured the wood stain remained even throughout its length. In the distant gardens, the assassin could barely perceive Frankenstein, Asterios, and Enkidu's gentle laughter among the rainbow patches.

Clad in a comfy white robe, Mata Hari stared out at the majestic ocean as it glittered in the following day's late morning light. Though she had often stared out at the blue waters, she had only seen black and white pictures that accompanied extravagant tales of the tropics. Ever since wading in the waters of a benign singularity many months ago, the romance of a tropical paradise became part of her wildest dreams. To be able to appreciate it whenever she wanted without having to leyshift was charming.

Nevertheless, it would not distract her from her current voluntary task, but that was no chore by definition.

Taking off her sandals with a deep breath, she buried her toes into the sun-kissed sand. Grains cascaded over her delicate feet as she relished the comfortable embrace of paradise around her feet. Giggling, she took a few steps forward to renew the feeling, never once getting tired of doing so after many weeks. A gentle breeze lifted her waterfall of chestnut locks to whirl gently beside the assassin, but she allowed it. She only placed a hand softly by the lone orange tiger lily to ensure the flower didn't fall from her hair.

Three quiet snap of a working camera shutter made the beautiful woman smile. She gently turned around with a smile as pure as snow, garnering more attention from the nearby photographer. As she held a friendly wink, earning yet another shot, Mata Hari giggled. "I'm not even ready yet, George."

"You could've fooled me," the rider responded with a chuckle. He lowered his camera and quickly readjusted the strap that held it around his neck. The DSLR laid limp against his white polo which was tucked into khaki shorts. After reaching to a pouch on his leather belt, he quickly pulled out a soft lens cloth and swiftly, but prudently, wiped the front element.

Mata Hari enjoyed the sight of his gentle smile as his own bare toes wiggled in the soft sand. Saint or not, the rider was more evidence that it was almost impossible to ignore the sensual seduction of the tropics. It warmed her heart every time she got to see one of Chaldea's saints enjoying themselves in their own hobbies or luxuries. Unlike the rest, however, George had been the only one to pursue his pure interests without any coaxing from others. As he put it, he was merely inspired by the camera's astounding ability to preserve a moment in time.

Chaldea's foremost photographer held his device up again, focused carefully on Mata Hari, and snapped a quick shot. He nodded in satisfaction with a chuckle. "It didn't make a difference, so I believe my mind was playing tricks on me. Sorry for the small delay, Miss Zelle."

Humming gently, Mata Hari only winked as she gently undid the belt of her robe. "Alright, Mister George. I'm ready for my close up."

Both laughed at the reference to a peculiar movie they had watched together as Mata Hari discarded her robe. She gently tossed it onto a nearby blanket as the swimsuit clad assassin pondered which pose she should take first. Her exotic bikini was complete with elongated side ties and accentuating frills. An alluring body chain raced from her neck down the front of her body to embrace her waist gently with sapphire accents. Her chosen wardrobe complimented her curves perfectly, and was finished with a translucent cerulean waist cloth gently tied around her hips.

Gently, she laid down with one side against the sandy beach. She let out a tiny, blissful moan as she fixed her posture on the warm, tropical bed. She smiled happily towards George as she slid her topmost knee towards the sand with practiced ease. With one hand holding her head up and another resting atop her body, she gazed into the lens as she shifted her expression between photo bursts. For one set it was blissfully carefree, and another took on a slightly inviting look.

She was beyond confident George would pick the best choices for the swimsuit calendar Gabrielle suggested. He nodded in approval, "All you're missing is a tail and you're a perfect mermaid!"

"Why thank you~!" the assassin giggled as she shifted her posture. George snapped more photos as she took a half-seated position with her feet placed softly on the sand; The rider waited as she fixed her waist cloth gingerly. With her knees bent, and her arms supporting her upper body, she arched her back and tossed her head back. Her closed eyes reopened after a small burst of photos before looking at the camera with a brilliant smile.

"You're very natural at this. It's almost as if you've done photo shoots before," George suggested, making them both chuckle as she changed to a new position.

Hearing the snap of a camera was nostalgic to her, though it used to be a lot louder and brighter due to her era's photography. She had posed many times for different photographers, and a portion of her work was conclusively risqué. It was empowering to be the subject of a camera, and every photo did wonders for her self-confidence. Even if there were many who cried out against her old photos and used them against her, including her ex-husband, she secretly savored it.

Now that her bosom was larger, thus eliminating her self-conscious dismay over them, there was no more doubt remaining about being in photos. Sure, many could argue she was just turning herself into a sexual object, but it was never like that to her. For a woman who wanted nothing more than to be appreciated and loved after so many sins against her, it was her slice of satisfaction. In front of the camera, with a dedicated and pure hearted photographer, she felt beautiful and glorious, and that extra confidence in herself was what mattered.

"How about we get you wading for a bit?" the rider asked, making her quickly giggle as she stood back up.

After ensuring her flower was still perfectly placed in her hair, she sashayed towards the gentle waters as George's camera flared to life. She smiled as the warm waters occasionally licked her feet upon wet sand. With the sea gently lapping against the shore, thanks to George's request to turn down the wave machine temporarily, Mata Hari was safe to gently walk into the waters without getting splashed. She did not see George continuously turning his camera and adjusting the lens as she did, snapping all the while.

With her back still to the rider, she continued to offer poses that marked the near-impossible line between allure and innocence; She walked it flawlessly. "Beautiful, Miss Zelle! May I trouble you to let your hair catch the wind again?"

As a small wave pushed past her calves, Mata Hari gently flicked her hair into the blowing wind and spread her arms wide. With laughter that echoed gently over the sea, she relished in George's snapping shutter. Her body chain glistened in the sun as she gently swayed her hips to make the waist cloth flap. She turned to the photographer with a smile more precious than diamonds, which quickly flowed into angelic laughter as she witnessed the rider's current posture.

George was flat on the ground with his camera vertical in an attempt to get it as close to the sand as possible. There was a conch shell partially between him and her, and he was clearly trying to get it in the photo somehow. Some wet sand clung to his own brunette locks and clothes, but he looked completely unconcerned. His expression only offered a tiny smile as he snapped a few more pictures.

Lowering his camera, George stared at the back screen and sighed while shaking his head. "Not quite what I hoped."

"Oh? Did I do something wrong?" Mata Hari asked politely as the wind gently caressed her hair and waist cloth.

"Oh, most certainly not you. You're an angel," George complimented, making her smile even brighter since it came from a saint. "Rather, it's me. I can't seem to find the proper angle."

"To be fair, George, you say that all the time when taking portrait pictures," the assassin offered with a warm smile. "They've all come out wonderful, even the ones when you first started. Everyone appreciates your work, especially Mashu who has been learning from you."

"I'm still learning myself," the rider humbly admitted with a small shrug. "But thank you, I appreciate the kind words. Shall we continue?"

Mata Hari winked. "Just as soon as you get the sand out of your own beautiful hair."

George looked at his clothes and chuckled, making the assassin join him with her own bright laughter; He quickly grabbed photos of that too. As he lowered his camera again, he shook his head and stood up. While brushing some of the sand off him carefully, he stated, "I believe the more alluring shots I'll reserve for you to give out personally, if you desire to do so. Your joyous smile is superior in my opinion, because it's always wonderful seeing you so happy."

As she beamed with a light blush at the compliment, George took another picture.


¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ V ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨


The salon's side of the kitchen was mostly vacant since it usually began operation after lunch. Besides Codsworth or Leandre who occasionally came by out of curiosity for what they were crafting, it was only a few servants on their side. The aromas of countless different food wafted through their section, mixing with the clinks and clangs of food prep. Mata Hari hardly noticed since she was paying close attention to the servant beside her as the redhead slowly walked the assassin through her process.

Mata Hari remained fixated on Boudica's garnish preparation while keeping her hands folded in front of her red, pink-heart speckled apron. She had changed from her intricate designer swimsuit into tight jeans and a loose, white off shoulder shirt. It was casual enough to wear, but something she also didn't mind getting dirty by accident. Beside her work uniform, she preferred her dresses remained safe from more daring situations.

Boudica was a different story in her jade halter dress, but that spoke volumes of her confidence in her workplace. Even her white apron was pristine and untouched as she gently held the manipulated strawberry by its stem. With her other hand on a garnishing knife, she carefully made a few incisions at key points, being sure that Mata Hari could visibly see. Even Codsworth, who floated by briefly to peer at the rider's flawless precision, opened its mechanical irises in appreciation.

"If you make another careful cut on the other side, you should have the foundation for the outside petals," the redhead happily explained as Mata Hari's eyes twinkled. The rider placed the flat of the knife against one petal and slowly bent it outward. "After just a simple nudge, it takes a proper shape!"

"That's so wonderful," the assassin breathed as she held up her own strawberry. With her own knife, she slowly began trying to work the food as Boudica happily watched over her. She appreciated the small tutoring on this specific food subject since it was something she desperately wanted to learn. "I can't wait to have this for my own dishes!"

"You're going to make a future husband very happy one day when you do," Boudica winked, making both girls giggle. Mata Hari quickly came to a stop before she made a mistake with the strawberry. She let out one last bashful chuckle before carefully attempting to mimic Boudica's rose garnish.

"And my children too, I hope," she added with a pleasant sigh. Even if servants couldn't have children themselves, there's always the adoption route; Atalanta secretly made her jealous of having such cute yet powerful kids.

Boudica happily laughed as Mata Hari started work on another strawberry rose. "You're still claiming the next orphan child servant Chaldea may get?"

"Of course~!" came the instant, jubilant reply with a matching smile. "I'll smother them with love and affection in everything I do! I'll make them feel warm and fuzzy!"

"If they consent to it, I hope. Although… unless they're pure evil, I don't think they'd mind you as a mother," Boudica flattered with an adoring smile. "Always so dedicated and chipper… Oh. Um, you-"

Mata Hari sighed in dismay. They had gotten so wrapped up in their talking she accidentally cut off too much of one outside petal. She stared at the ruined rose with a small pout, but the rider beside her giggled, "It has a longer shape now, but you can still make it a tulip. Want to learn that today too?"

Her mood instantly shifted as she nodded happily. "The next garnish for my repertoire? Anything to improve my home cooking~!"

Truthfully, Mata Hari was also great at cooking, but it was done out of love in mind. The idea of having a loving husband come home to such a carefully crafted dinner felt like such a motherly touch. Garnishing quickly became one of her top interests, but she merely kept putting the idea off since she was currently single. She had decided against delaying it further after coming to the silent acknowledgement someone who made her heart flutter may arrive soon, or she may unexpectedly come to love one within Chaldea.

She was hardly the first to have an appreciation for cooking initially based on pleasing a loved one.

At a counter further away, Tamamo reached around Kiyohime's teal sundress to pluck some whipped cream off the table. The berserker did the same to grab some graham crackers, but was careful not to get any crumbs on Tamamo's pink striped sweater or tail. The duo had claimed a portion of a side counter to work on a personal food project between the two of them. Both best friends remained huddled by each other while they worked in relative silence, making Mata Hari smile at their heartwarming relation.

Kiyohime walked away to get something, allowing Mata Hari to finally glance their secret creation. On a large plate sat a sugary treat in perfect detail. Partially covered in frosting and detailed by countless candy, the small structure stood proudly as Tamamo gently carved a graham cracker siding into bricks with a knife. Mata Hari smiled, "Oh! A gingerbread house? What's the occasion?"

Tamamo's sad smile caught the two of them off guard. "It's for Nursery Rhyme… She cried for a whole hour."

"Oh no… What happened?" Boudica asked as she gently put her garnish knife down. The teal-haired friend quickly came out of the pantry and sighed.

"That new caster happened," Kiyohime huffed with a scowl as she walked back over with a tub of more frosting. Boudica expression turned serious as the berserker practically ripped the lid off the container. "He just had to arrive, didn't he?"

"Is Mephistopheles really as bad as they say?" Mata Hari asked with curiosity and concern. It was absolutely strange and awkward to ask that question, but she couldn't help but hope there was a slither of some good in the devil caster. Though she never encountered him in any of her deployments, she's heard a few stories here and there of his chaotic nature; He even betrayed all of them during the singularity when they brought home Shiki. Regardless, everyone who was summoned had to agree to come here, so hopefully... just maybe…

"He's terrible," Tamamo spat as their once joyful moods crumbled to dust. "He put up a front that he's loyal and respectful, then he went and burned one of Nursery Rhyme's favorite books…"

"He what!?" Boudica growled while her hand holding the garnishing knife trembled.

"That caster also tampered with some of the new wardrobes at the Clothing Department overnight. Some dresses Nero and I got were ruined among many others!" Tamamo snarled with contempt. "If I get my hands on that… that…!"

Kiyohime gently rubbed her caster friend's should as she exhaled in pure aggravation, "Sorry… I don't want to talk about it anymore. I can't make a gingerbread house while riled."

"Let's just drop it then… I hope it comes out well," Mata Hari offered and silently apologized, making the two best friends present a tiny smile of acceptance and gratitude. They turned back to their work in an attempt to restore their previous moods. The assassin and rider did the same as Boudica began teaching her about tulips to put down her own rising anger. Thankfully, it was already proving to be a solid distraction for her since the petals were thin and close.

Slowly but surely, the mood restored itself to a fragile balance within the kitchen.


¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ VI ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨


After this week ended, when May began, there was going to be a break from summoning. The quartz supply was maintaining itself, but Roman wishes for a significant amount of reserve energy in preparation for the final confrontation. Any excess energy generated by the dormant system would also allow tiny quartz fragments to be converted into a motherload of apples. It was a necessity, but so was gathering potential reinforcements, so the summoning window remained open for a few more days.

It was enough to let three servants arrive, which unfortunately included a troublesome caster, whose eerie laughter echoed in the hallway.

Mata Hari supposed it was only a matter of time before she ran into him. Carrying her current book in a beach bag beside her, and a swimsuit underneath her clothes, she was ready to enjoy the beach that afternoon. She was looking forward to spending time with Arash and his friends. Instead, she found the rather rude servant casually standing before Doctor Roman in the windowed hallway between the cafeteria and library. This encounter supposedly just started, since only a few employees had stopped to look on in concern for the acting director.

With new energy in her step, Mata Hari walked past the few employees and towards the clown-like figure. In varying hues of blues and reds, the outlandishly dressed Mephistopheles released the wrist of the slightly cowering doctor, who presently looked smaller in his usual Chaldean coat. The unbelievably pale servant's grin grew curious at the approaching, irritated assassin. With a slight tip of his unusual horned, red cap, the magenta-haired man laughed eerily as he fully turned to face her.

Arms akimbo and standing proudly in his heels and tights, Mephistopheles's voice shrilled. "Oh! A new customer! What a fruitful day this is becoming, quite so! I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting yet?"

"I find no pleasure in having to stop someone from harassing the poor doctor!" Mata Hari quickly countered before offering a quick reassuring smile to Doctor Roman. Her glare fell back on the caster. "I presume you're Mephistopheles? What do you think you're doing to Roman?"

"Doing? Oh! But I haven't done anything yet! Certainly not yet!" the caster openly admitted. "But I was certainly thinking about it, mind you. But it has to be creative! I could make it art!"

Mata Hari turned to the acting director, who straightened himself out with a frown and explained, "He said he wanted to play a game… and he was rather adamant about it."

While a kind soul at heart, there were still many things that could actually anger the bubbly and flirty assassin. People using their social class to get away with things was one, since her past was filled with the results of such actions. However, in Chaldea, anyone who purposefully went out of their way to extract entertainment from the despair of others was towards the top. She, who loved making people smile, would not tolerate the opposite which this man evidently desired.

She was always willing to give a new servant a chance, but he was clearly intent on ruining people's happiness. Though she didn't have a loving family, she considered Chaldea one on a different level; Mata Hari was not about to let someone mar it in any way. "I think you should just leave him alone, Mephistopheles."

"Oh? But I wasn't going to do anything yet I said! I was only considering after we played the game! Perhaps even broker a deal or two!" the man practically chuckled, making her blood boil.

"Why would someone like you come to Chaldea!?" She found herself spitting in anger, making Roman's eyes widen in surprise; An angry Mata Hari was a very rare sight. "Is that really all you're here for!? Tormenting others who are trying to get by!? Did you even take your summoned purpose into consideration!?"

To her surprise, Mephistopheles' expression fell blank. He quietly contemplated, allowing a silence to fill the air between them. It made Mata Hari a little nervous, because regardless of how angry she was, this man was still supposed to be the devil. She was one of the weakest servants in Chaldea, and she was likely a small bug compared to someone as possibly potent as him. As sudden concern filled her body, she pondered… What if he really was here just to destroy Chaldea? What if these games were just to entertain him and pass the time until-

"He did, Mata Hari." Interrupting both of them, Karna appeared in a shower of gold with his spear and armor on full display. Mephistopheles eyed the powerful lancer with notable concern. His gaze rested firmly on Karna's fierce grip on his lance, which made Mata Hari feel safer. "He took it into consideration, but his wishes remain selfish and cruel. He is befitting the name of the devil due to his ambitions."

With an angry gaze, she turned back to Mephistopheles. If Karna had just outright declared that, then this servant really had nothing else to hide. He had used the chance summon as a ticket to inflict more chaos on a new place… but something wasn't quite right. Despite the crimes he's committed already, Karna was not making a move. He merely eyed the devilish caster with a threatening gaze. "You are being given a chance to prove us wrong, Mephistopheles."

"Prove you wrong?" he asked in a rather even tone. For some reason, it was more unnerving than his eerie chortles.

"Mata Hari is right. You did agree to the summoning in order to arrive. Like us all, you were informed humanity is in jeopardy, and by arriving you will be working to save it," Karna stated firmly, but suddenly raised his golden spear so its tip rested near the caster's throat. To the outlandish man's credit, he didn't even flinch. "However, our history with you has already proven you aren't trustworthy. If a malicious devil is all you are, Chaldea's highest have declared you are to become an example and removed from Chaldea by any means necessary."

The assassin glanced towards Roman, who looked at Mephistopheles with surprising ferocity and determination. "We did. I was trying to inform you…. But you kept interrupting."

The caster's calm gaze turned between Karna, Mata Hari, and Roman. Slowly, more Peacekeepers were materializing around them to answer the call. She looked towards Roman and the caster, pondering if a weak servant like her could possibly save Roman from a possible impulsive attack. If he really was the devil who cared nothing but sewing destruction, he could go for a killing strike on Chaldea's highest official… but that's the thought that lit the lightbulb.

Karna was a praised hero who would do all he could out of selfless desire. He would have instantly put himself between Roman and the caster instead of leaving the window open… unless it was intentional. The lancer had a way to see into someone's heart, so if he was willing to take this risk, then it sent a message far louder than the dozen battle-ready peacekeepers or his poised weapon. Mata Hari turned back to Mephistopheles, wondering what possibly lay beneath the insufferable exterior.

Today, she wasn't going to find out. She instead remained surprised as the caster shrugged and raised a hand in mocking surrender. "I suppose there's no deal to be made out of this… I shall leave your poor doctor alone then."

In a total lack of fearless disrespect, the caster merely dropped his hand, turned around, and strolled by a perplexed Gawain and Tristan. Without even a wave or an apology, he began meandering towards the library in total silence. It was disconcerting, causing Karna to look towards Cursed Arm. Clutching his presence concealment cape, the assassin quickly disappeared into spirit form to likely shadow the caster.

"Thank you for stalling him, Mata Hari," Karna stated with a small smile.

"I just couldn't stand by and watch," she declared before quickly taking a few steps to the acting director. She carefully looked him over. "Are you okay, Roman?"

"A little shaken… but Da Vinci would say that's my usual," he joked, making many chuckle as Karna quickly motioned for the remaining Peacekeepers to come to him. As they began to discuss what happened, Roman turned towards two running servants and smiled. "Oh look. French Cavalry!"

"Maisie! Roman!" Marie called out as she and Mozart bolted to them. As her mood lifted, Mata Hari giggled, both at the warmness of the queen's friendly nickname for her and the fact that her white sundress was flapping shamelessly as she ran in heels. Mozart was following behind in his salon uniform, gently swatting at the flapping hem to ensure it didn't get too dreadfully high. "Are you alright!? I only just heard from Sanson as he returned from his break! I would have come sooner!"

"It's okay, Marie. Mata Hari saved me from some potential trouble with the new caster," Roman complimented as Marie hugged the assassin. It would take more than that to calm down her overly worried friend, but it had been a good outcome. The assassin felt accomplished, and looked extra forward to some beach time with the others.

However, as the process of relaxing the French Queen began, Mata Hari's thoughts lingered on her own personal judgement. Many have come to find their own niche in Chaldea, but Mephistopheles might be the first to prove otherwise. Regardless of her serious doubts, Karna seemed to see otherwise. If there was more to that chaotic devil than openly believed, then that obviously applied to others. It made her feel just a little bit better about her dance lessons this evening.


¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ VII ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨


With a bright smile, Mata Hari caught the wave while gripping her borrowed blue boogie board. She had opted for a more practical yellow bikini this afternoon; A wardrobe malfunction amongst the surf would not make for a fun story regardless of how comfortable she was being seen naked. After the rather aggravating incident earlier, she was glad to be at the resort cashing in on the promise of fun with the other three.

Unlike this morning, the waves had been dialed up further to offer better surf. A few employees and other servants were catching waves or playing among the rougher swells jubilantly. The sun shined against the many white caps, and glinted off the distant Babbage as if he were a lighthouse. The large caster remained by the docks testing out some sort of new underwater robot with a blue suit-wearing Edison. Mata Hari looked over curiously as her board slid onto the water-coated beach-

"Mari, look out!" The warning came far too late.

After she yelped, the two servant laughed merrily as Arash's boogie board collided with the assassin's own. Winding up slightly tangled with the cords, boards, and themselves, the two attempted to control their laughter as crashing waves gently pushed them around on the wet sand. Every time they got a bit more untangled, another wave would just make things a little more difficult; They were delays, rather than resets at least.

A rogue, large wave had knocked her back on top of the facedown, tanned archer in white swim trunks, making him chuckle. "The waves are our toughest enemies to date!"

"It'd be easier if you hadn't crash into such a delicate flower, Mister Kamangir," Mata Hari prodded with a warm smile.

"Oh, likely story for your lack of balance!" he teased the girl on top of hi- He winced, but laughed, as she pinched his side.

"You two are a mess," Brynhildr snickered as she sauntered over to them with Arthur at her side. The Valkyrie in a black one piece held her white board in one arm as her other hand rested lightly on her hip. The white swim trunks wearing saber beside her held his blue board over his shoulder by the cord.

Arthur chuckled as yet another wave caused Arash's cord to wrap around the assassin's ankles, making her fall forward once more onto his back. "Would you like some help?"

"We'll get up before Christmas," Arash grinned as a giggling Mata Hari rolled over to untangle her ankle from Arash's board. Though more waves threatened them, Arash finally had managed to untangle himself. After freeing her leg, Mata Hari stood up with the help of the archer's offered hand with a gentle smile.

"Why thank you, kind sir," she complimented as he flashed her a warm smile. The two were on incredible terms, and when together brightened a room so much it was practically blinding. It was a fun close bond she thoroughly enjoyed, and something that made her feel treasured and gratified. She just felt so at ease, genuinely playful, and comfortable around him in particular, as if she could do anything.

"Back out we go then. We've still got an hour until they turn it down," Arthur declared as he turned to the lancer to share a smile.

As Arthur and Brynhildr splashed into the coming surf, Arash turned to the beautiful assassin and smirked. "Care to race?"

She grinned and was about to nod when his expression fell. He turned away in embarrassment and pointed towards her top. "Sorry, Mari! Your swimsuit! It's…"

The assassin looked down with a slight blush, but quickly fell confused. Her bikini's flattering top was perfectly fine. It wasn't revealing or anyt- Arash bolted toward the surf while laughing, making her gasp in feigned offense as she quickly chased. "Arash! How could you lie like that!?"

"I didn't lie! I just never finished my compliment! The swimsuit looks beautiful on you!" he countered blissfully as his legs waged a war against the coming surf. "I'm a great actor though, huh? Maybe I should try out for Shakespeare's play!"

"I'll get you for that!" she jokingly threatened. With a smirk, she hurtled forward as fast as she could to catch up to him, knowing he was purposefully slowing himself down to let her do so; He was always the sporting gentleman. "I'm winning this race, Arash!"

"Not against me you don't, Mari!" the archer countered. However, she successfully caught up, and then their real race through waist deep water began. Still they chuckled and smiled at each other as they pushed through the oncoming surf. Mata Hari playfully used one arm to push him back, which Arash grabbed lightly to pull himself forward. She giggled and tried to break free so she could take the lead aga-

Another rogue wave slammed into them, but Arash didn't let go. Pushed by the force of impact, the wave carried them back towards the shoreline. They breached the surface to breath before the waves casually deposited them onto the wet sand. When the water retreated momentarily, Mata Hari was left strewn across his torso, pinning him down. They laughed upon seeing they were tangled with their boards and cords once more. Arash snickered, "So… come here often?"

As Mata Hari playfully slapped him, Arthur and Brynhildr smiled and shook their heads at the two while bobbing from the safety of deeper waters.


¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ VIII ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨


As Chaldea's only dance instructor, Mata Hari took exceptional pride in being proficient at a wide array of physical movement. Dance was but another window into the heart and soul, which was a truth she was well aware of since it shined true for her too. Though she was a master of one particular style, it seemed her legacy with the art of movement graced her with the aptitude to perform others with equal grace and talent. It was comforting, especially since her own bliss and satisfaction with her mastered dance was a partial façade.

Although exotic, alluring dances were her forte, they showed her own wishes to those that gazed deeper than her erotic gyrations. Though they were moves used to garner sexual interest, the truth was far more basic than that: She craved someone to notice and care… a loving mate who would hold her dear. At its most meaningful, sex was the most intimate two lovers could get. How ironic that one of her most famous masteries was to entice a fleeting feeling when she craved a far-longer and more heartfelt embrace.

Still, she could not deny that was part of what made her a heroic spirit, but it would not control her.

It was that expertise that led one particular servant to request a private lesson from her at Club Cove late at night. Mata Hari sat on the dance floor while the rest of the club was bathed in relative darkness. The spotlights rained down on the two cross-legged individuals, making them look isolated on their illuminated island. As she patiently waited for the other servant to speak, the assassin kept one hand rested on her yellow yoga pants as another adjusted her tight off-shoulder, white crop top.

Across from her, Medb remained quiet as she looked everywhere but at Mata Hari. She had her own pair of hot pinks yoga pants with a matching tube top that exposed most of her stomach. Nothing but silence had filled the room since the two sat down only a minute ago, with only the assassin having presented a warm welcome. Even as she smiled patiently at the rider, Mata Hari was secretly uncertain, concerned… and even curious.

Medb was many things she was not. A royal Celt with a mean streak the size of Asia, she also had the battle prowess and a makeshift army to back her claims. She had witnessed how forceful she was during the fifth primary singularity, and those vicious and cruel smiles were hard to forget. There were many initially worried she was going to cause an uprising if she ever appeared in Chaldea; It was a miracle Gabrielle had forged an instant, close friendship with the harsh queen with towering ambitions.

It was why it was not too baffling seeing Medb sitting with an almost ashamed frown while she refused to make eye contact. She was a proud Celtic ruler, yet she had openly asked for private lessons on something many thought she was a master of: seduction. Medb, the often openly sexual and overbearing Irish woman, had asked Mata Hari for private strip tease dance lessons. Of course, being the friendly servant that she is, Mata Hari would never use it against her.

If anything, she felt she finally had a chance to get to understand a possible secret side of the infamous queen. After dealing with Mephistopheles earlier, perhaps there was more to her than she revealed; Gabrielle had surely found it. Pushing aside her own personal judgement and bias against domineering social elites, she spoke up with a friendly tone, "Thank you for coming, Medb. I promise I won't tell anyone about this."

Her choice words finally allowed the rider to make contact with Mata Hari. There was a hint of suspicion, but it was overpowered by relief and hope. "…Truly promise? I won't hesitate to kill you outright if you decide to wrong me in some way."

"Not a word to anyone," Mata Hari reassured with a bright smile. None of it was fabricated, since the assassin genuinely felt no fear after the supposed threat. There was only slight annoyance. Any form of open hostility against another servant in Chaldea was met with almost immediate force by the Peacekeepers, so the threat was basically meaningless. If anything, it meant a servant was openly discarding and abandoning their chances to fulfill their own desires by risking death… unless that wish was to maim another servant.

Thankfully and without a doubt, Mata Hari had guessed right as Medb relented and sighed. "…Thank you. Only Fergus and Gabby know I don't know how to do any seductive dancing."

"I'm guessing one of them convinced you to ask me?" she asked carefully.

Medb clicked her tongue. "…Fergus did. It came up one time after a late night together when I asked if it would help set the mood or spice things up."

"That's fair. I won't push any further," the assassin nodded politely before smiling. She was being more well-mannered than she anticipated, which was already a relieving sign. "Well, let's get to work then! I locked the doors and placed signs so no one would bother us."

With another sign of relief, Medb nodded her head. "Then let's get this over with... If it's fruitful enough, I might come back to learn more… but this is just a trail run!"

"That's fine~!" Mata Hari chimed. She'd get right to the point so as not to potentially play with her temper. "We'll stick to basic stuff at first then. Things you can do without poles or any other sort of prop. First though… can you tell me if there's any sort of body movement you do? Besides sex I mean."

Mata Hari stared as Medb hesitated to speak. It soon became apparent it was not an unwillingness to share but a lack of subject to do so. With a small nod, the assassin relieved the rider of any growing irritation, shame, or embarrassment. "Okay! Then, first and foremost, though, the fewer and more revealing layers of clothes the better, but that's something you probably already know. So let's get to the real treats for the guys~! We'll do standing moves for tonight."

The assassin got to her feet quickly, followed by Medb as the assassin placed her hands on her own hips. "When doing any exotic dancing, it's all about natural movement of the body. Your goal is to entice and tempt. One of my oldest instructors taught me that one of the easiest ways to understand how to do so is by trying to look as inviting as possible."

"So get into a sexy position and flaunt a teasing smile?" Medb asked bluntly.

"Not quite…" Mata Hari corrected. "You want to give off the impression they can't have you just yet… that you're in total control. That's why it's a tease."

"I'm usually the one in control anyway," she responded with a scratch of her head.

Mata Hari withheld a giggle. "What I mean is, you want them to feel like they're not allowed to touch you, and that's mainly what drives them crazy. You're offering yourself to them, but you're not… like you're some kind of forbidden fruit. You want them to start imagining things by providing the fuel with your body movement, gestures, and expressions."

"…So just swaying the hips like I usually do when walking and offering a teasing smile?" This was clearly not getting through to her as fast as she thought, especially considering her style was very blunt and forward; Was she always that frank about getting right to sex? Perhaps if the verbal explanations were just burning time and yielding poor results, then…

"Hmm… Let me try explaining differently," Mata Hari suggested. She fished a small remote out of her pocket and aimed it at a tiny music player by the side of the dance floor. After a click, saxophone music filtered into the air, making Medb raise an eyebrow and chuckle.

She stopped as Mata Hari quietly began gyrating her hips. She gracefully swayed her hips while beginning to twist her upper body and legs in motion, forming figure eights with her movement. Slowly, she let her hands slide across her tight pants and up her stomach before moving back down. Hoping Medb was more visually oriented, she started a rather routine performance as a clear example. "It's all about teasing hints and building anticipation. Don't rush so you can be painfully slow to them."

Medb watched attentively with crossed arms as Mata Hari, with an inviting glint in her eye and a gentle bite of her lower lip, slowly slipped a her hand beneath her crop top. She slowly slid it back out and down her bare stomach as she exhaled. As it passed her pants, she allowed the thumb to gently catch the top of her yoga pants. After gliding her other hand up her thigh, she did the same with the opposing thumb. With every rotation of her hips, she let the pants creep a little lower to reveal more of her black thong with every passing second. Finally, Medb was nodding in understanding.

"Okay, so you learn best visually," Mata Hari observed as she slowly brought her movements to a halt. She lifted her pants back up to their former position with a smile. Compared to the few other times she taught it, this was a rather quick and blunt explanation of how to do it. To be fair though, these were still basics. "Sometimes it helps getting inspiration from movies and others as well, but you don't need to get complicated. Just let everything flow naturally from one move to another while keeping their agony in mind."

"I like the sound of that," Medb chuckled, causing Mata Hari to giggle as well. Taking it as a cue, the assassin continued.

As the teacher began gyrating her hips once more and letting her hands wander slowly as she caressed herself, Medb began to copy her. She followed along smoothly, making the assassin seriously question the idea she never did slow teasing; Medb may have been too eager to get to the point, but knew what to do. "Yes! Like that!"

Medb's smile grew the more the two kept going. With her gentle coaching, the rider attempted to slowly lower her own pants through her body motions. On the third try she finally nailed it, since the previous two were much too quick; She was appearing a little too willing and hasty. On the other hand, she had inviting and sultry gestures with her hands down perfectly, which was a staple in this particular style.

Mata Hari had giggled and clapped in approval when she even tested a choice playful subtle moan or two. "Great! You're doing well!"

Ten minutes... Half an hour... She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but Medb was a rather quick learner so long as it was done visually. Mata Hari would perform a move, and Medb would quickly follow and have it down pat by the third try. Though the rider was also flawless with her sultry gazes and seductive expressions, her motions just needed a tiny bit more refining. Regardless, it was the genuine smiles and excited laughter between each completed set the dance teacher cherished most.

Unlike seeing others smile happily for various reasons, doing so as a teacher was particularly rewarding. She felt she was passing on a valuable asset, regardless of its intent and purpose. Seeing the Celt Queen happily relishing in the lesson was also a relief, since she felt she had broken ice with her. As time continued to pass into the night, Mata Hari felt like she was possibly making headway into a new, unexpected friendship; First Ishtar, and now Medb. Her own confidence and satisfaction swelled.

They had gotten into more intimate, personal lessons since Medb seemed totally inspired and accepting of her trial; These lessons were certain to continue. "Alright, Medb~! Give it a go. Perform a small combination of your choosing!"

Mata Hari was leaning against a table with her hands planted on its edge as Medb sashayed up to her. As the temptress approached, she teased her pants down ever so slightly before slowly spinning around as she got to the assassin. Her back was enticingly close so the warmth of her skin radiated upon her own, but did not touch; They were teasingly close as the rider softly swaying from hip to hip as she lowered her pants further. After a teasing lick of her lips, Medb finally pressed her exposed panties against Mata Hari's hips as she slid her hands down the sides of her thighs. Quickly, she bent over completely, gripped her ankles, and let out a soft breath.

"A touch too fast, but great!" Mata Hari confirmed as Medb threw her head back, allowing her pink locks to flow across her nearly bare backside and part evenly. She sensually slid her hands back up her legs while her hungry look attempted to devour her teacher. Slowly, she spun once more before pressing her lower body against Mata Hari's by softly gripping the assassin's hips. The student locked the two together as Mata Hari glimpsed the rider's eyes that brimmed with unbridled desire.

"I'm just getting started..." With her lips ghosting across the side of her neck, Medb let out a warm breath as her hands caressed the small of her back. Moaning enticingly, Medb lowered her caress until the tips of her fingers disappeared beneath Mata Hari's the firm elastic band of her clothes, all while the rider's hips ground and swayed into her own. Painfully slow, the student's slender hands glided across her hips while dipping eagerly lower. Releasing a craving moan of unsatisfied lust, the rider pressed their bodies even closer.

Mata Hari bit her bottom lip but couldn't suppress the slight shiver as Medb's parted lips brushed under her neck. Their moments of shared laughter partially vanished from her thoughts as budding carnal desires crept into her mind, but her hands remained in check; She was the teacher, but her sultry student was making high marks. Between her alluring caresses, the teasing breaths against her skin, the inviting gaze, and the music further setting the mood, Mata Hari felt herself lured by the advance, which was a positive sign for Medb's progress.

"I'm certain this isn't all you want... is it, Fergus~?" Medb moaned as she gazed seductively into Mata Hari's eyes; She was doing so well too. Unfortunately, even with the rider's alluring smirk barely millimeters from her own lips, the assassin was suddenly filled with giggles, confusing and irritating the rider. "What's so funny!? I thought I was doing great!"

"I'm sorry! You really were! It's just... You finally called me Fergus for practice but it's probably hard to imagine me as Fergus if I'm not that tall! I should find a step or something," Mata Hari apologized, though to her relief, Medb was now laughing too.

"You want me to imagine you as Fergus? That's difficult! Fergus has a big chest, but yours is bigger!" she complained. The two momentarily paused before breaking out into raucous laughter. This was the first case for the assassin that strip dancing got her a new possible friend instead of a companion or client. She wasn't going to complain about that tho-

Lone clapping made the two stop and turn towards the doorway. Medb's anxious expression was replaced with reprieve, but Mata Hari flushed bright; Medb's hands, which were still grasping her hips beneath her pants, kept them pressed against each other. The newcomer only grinned happily by the door as he discarded his green presence concealment cloak on a nearby booth. Though he wore nothing but loose track pants, they seemed awfully tighter in one region. "When you asked about spicing things up, this was definitely not what I imagined, babe! It's way hotter though!"

"I'm learning well then, hun?" Medb winked as Fergus nodded enthusiastically.

"I'll say! That was sure got the fire started!" the blue-haired saber complimented with a thumbs up. "And don't worry! I made sure no one else was around while you two were preoccupied."

As Medb nodded in appreciation, Mata Hari smiled at her. "If Fergus is here to pick you up, I guess that's the end of your les-?"

"Oh no! Please!" Fergus grinned and gently waved with his hands. He casually took a seat by one of the nearby booth- He stopped and quickly decided on coming to one of the closer ones to the stage, making Medb laugh. "…You two continue! Don't mind me! I just want a great seat for this!"

As Mata Hari blushed incredulously at the happy saber, Medb turned eagerly to the assassin. Her hips began gently swaying again as her lips hovered daringly close to her own. Her alluring golden orbs gazed into her eyes as her breath tickled her lips, "So then... Should I continue where I left off, Dance Queen?"


¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ IX ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨


While brushing her hair, Mata Hari exited the bathroom after hanging her drying towel. With practiced grace, the silk nightgown clad assassin navigated her dim room to sit on her bed. The silhouettes of her different furniture and hanging picture frames flickered with the flames of her lone, bedside candle. It rested atop a maple nightstand along with an empty picture frame and her current novel. Though she could stay up and continue to read, her hair was finally dry after her usual bubble bath. All she wished to do was hopefully dream the remainder of the night under her warm quilted covers.

"Ah, what a night..." Mata Hari giggled to herself as she completed the last few strokes with her hairbrush. The lessons had continued smoothly, and Fergus had acted as a sort of happy judge from the front row. It was no surprise they invited her to enjoy some 'personal activities' afterwards, but she wasn't that promiscuous anymore; She was just Medb's secret instructor. Fergus' open, excited banter about their great performance earlier was an amusing way to end the night, at least. It gave her a few giggles even as she hummed her way back to her room while keeping a curious eye peeled for the so-called ghost.

She placed her hairbrush down on the nightstand beside the empty picture frame. As a fond smile graced her lips, she kept glancing towards it as she tucked herself in for the night. The assassin fluffed her head pillow gently before carefully arranging her hair. She then took the second, much longer pillow and placed it along the bed's length. With a sigh, she wrapped one arm around it and cuddled with the soft article.

Marie had been the one to gossip with her about the idea of using a pillow to replicate a person. It sounded strange, but after trying it, it felt strangely comfortable. It wasn't like cuddling a real person obviously, but was still comfortable. She simply let her imagination do the rest to lull her to sleep, just like it did to fill the empty picture frame.

Content with the day and ready for the next, she smiled at it one more time as she closed her eyes. Someday, it would no longer be filled only in her dreams. Sanson was right; She just needed to be patient and look ahead positively, one day at a time like she always has. With gentle breathing, she slowly fell asleep before mumbling warmly to herself.

"Good night, love."