"Bad Mama!"
Mage Consul Lillet Blan did not have a lot of experience being castigated for her behavior. This was both on account of her being a generally good person who didn't often need to be called out, and on account of her being the kingdom's greatest magician and thus not someone whom it was wise to pick a fight with.
Her daughter Cressidor, however, had a strong sense of justice (which was probably at least in part due to Lillet's parenting, so she had only herself to blame), and no fear of being turned into a toad. Thus she had no trouble voicing her displeasure as they walked out of the fairground.
"But I just wanted—"
"You were being unfair, and you know it!" Cress was having none of Lillet's excuses. The expression on her face, with her cheeks puffed out and her pout of disappointment, reminded Lillet of when she'd been five or six instead of the ten-year-old she was; it was both amazingly cute and brought out a moment of fleeting nostalgia.
How fast can five years fly past, even though five days can last forever?
Lillet did not, however, take the opportunity to reflect either on the joys of parenthood or the unusual nature of her relationship with time. She had far more immediate issues to worry about at the present.
"Cressidor, I'm the Mage Consul. Under the law, that gives me the ultimate authority over the practice of magic in the kingdom."
"Mama, that's just sophit—sofa—"
"Sophistry," supplied Cressidor's other mother. "And you're right; that's the correct word for what Lillet is doing."
"You, too?"
Amoretta fixed Lillet with her crimson gaze. The beautiful homunculus was the living definition of the phrase "honest to a fault," except that she considered the fault to lie with the rest of the world, who had gotten so accustomed to dishonesty that they required the white lies of "tact" to avoid needlessly hurting people's feelings.
"When Queen Martelle made you the court minister responsible for the practice of magic, it was very clear that Her Majesty meant the use of the supernatural arts as well as knowledge of and protection from the creatures and powers that exist as part of magical reality," Amoretta's voice was firm.
Cress's nod was equally decisive.
"It doesn't mean you can bully a stage conjuror into telling you how he found all the aces after the volunteer shuffled the deck!"