Chapter 3

After Henrietta closed the door to her room, she turned and saw Cardinal Mazarin standing there waiting for her. His lips were pursed tightly together, which she knew from experience meant that he had something to say, but would not without being commanded to out of respect for her rank.

"You seem bothered by something," Henrietta said. "What is it?"

"It is not my place to say, Your Highness," Mazarin replied stiffly.

"Yes, but you will anyway," she said primly, "or else you shall have to explain to the nobles why you look like you are so constipated when we get to the party."

Cardinal Mazarin sighed. "Your Highness, we've discussed before about minding your tongue."

"In public," Henrietta corrected him, smiling mischievously. "But as far as I can tell, it is only the two of us here in the hallway at present."

"It still makes for a bad habit."

"As does saying that you should not say something when you clearly want to say it anyway. It's really quite annoying, actually." Henrietta rolled her eyes. "Go on, Cardinal. Speak your mind."

"Yes, Your Highness," Mazarin said as they began to walk down the halls. "Then, if I may be so bold, I must say that I do not approve of how you behaved by your familiar. You are his master now, in truth, and it is vital that you establish a clear hierarchy between the two of you, lest he grow to become unruly and difficult to control."

"Are we speaking of Alex or my new pet dog?" Henrietta said sarcastically, looking around in mock wonder. "I do not want another servant. I have hundreds of those already. I want a friend, for in this world I have only one, and these days it is rare that I see her, let alone speak with her."

"You wish for a friend, I understand," Mazarin said. "But would you allow a friend to speak to you so insolently?"

"Why, yes, I would," Henrietta tittered. "It would be quite refreshing to have someone speak to me with such unabashed audacity."

"A poor choice of words on my part, it would seem," Mazarin bemoaned. "Then allow me to reiterate: you cannot allow him to speak to you in such a way again. It will cause nobles and commoners alike to question your dignity as princess of Tristain."

"Perhaps you should wear the crown," Henrietta said. "Clearly, you are better suited to rule than I."

"Such jests do not suit you, Your Highness."

Henrietta gave Mazarin a sidelong glance. "I wasn't entirely joking."

"Your Highness..." Mazarin sighed wearily. "Regardless of how you feel, I implore you to at the very least be wary around your familiar. We still do not know what he is, and the fact that he hides it from us leads me to believe that he may be dangerous."

"Chances are very good that he is," Henrietta agreed, thinking back to how Alex had devoured that bird when he was a small piece of slime and wondering how much more he could do now that he was human-sized. It honestly sent a shiver down her spine thinking about it. "But I do not believe he will harm me."

"Why is that, Your Highness?"

"When I spoke with him, I did not get the impression that he was altogether angry about having been summoned here," Henrietta said. "Bewildered, perhaps, but not angry. He will not harm me because he has no reason to."

"A reason!" Mazarin scoffed. "A serpent taken in from the cold and nursed to health at the bosom will bite you regardless. It is in its nature."

"Cardinal, forgive me for what I am about to say, but you are old and set in your ways," Henrietta said. "Alex is not like other familiars. He is as capable of thought as you or me or any other human being. If nothing else but for this, we must treat with him differently than we might other familiars."

"Yes, he is not like other familiars." Mazarin turned his head to look at her evenly. "So why do you assume to know him so well already?"

Henrietta pursed her lips and glowered at Mazarin. "Enough," she said harshly. "I'll hear no more about this."

"As you say, Your Highness."

Before they left the Academy's dormitories, they found a servant and had her send for food and water back to Henrietta's room. Then they headed for the courtyard, where all the nobles and their new familiars were already gathered. They were the last to arrive, purposefully so, because she was royalty, so of course she had to come last. Henrietta thought it was a ridiculous custom, but since it was expected of her there was nothing she could do about it.

Perhaps one day I should show up before anyone else, just to see what happens, Henrietta mused only half-seriously to herself.

The herald waiting by the Academy's main entrance made to announce them. The large double doors opened and closed behind him. If she strained her ears, Henrietta thought she might be able to pick out his words from the other side of the door, but before she could try Mazarin had already bent her ear towards him.

"Do not forget, Your Highness," Mazarin said. "This is a good chance for you to meet with the current heads and future scions of many different noble families. I urge you to stay on your best behavior."

"Yes, yes, I know," Henrietta sighed. "Do not worry. I shall play the part of the perfect little princess."

Then the doors opened, and Henrietta squinted slightly as the bright sun shone down on her. She took five steps forward and three steps down as a round of applause rose up before her. She smiled at them, then raised one hand for silence.

"My lords and ladies," Henrietta began. "Thousands of years ago, when the Founder Brimir still walked the earth, the world was a much harsher, more primitive place. Man warred against man with spears and stones; dangerous beasts prowled the earth, hunting man as prey; the very land itself was violent towards us. Life was short and brutal then, for even Founder Brimir was still yet only human then. Those that he could save were limited by how far he could reach out with his hands.

"But the gods were good and they did not forsake mankind. They gave Brimir the power of the Void, and he in turn blessed us, his most loyal followers, with the gift of magic, and he created for us the very first spell: the summoning spell. Thus, we were given the means to tame the wild beasts; to traverse over land and sea and air; to rule the land that once sought ruin us; and, in time, to create the kingdoms that stand proudly today.

"We have gathered here today to bear witness to the fine youths of the next generation take that same first step that Brimir and his followers took so many centuries ago. You have each, one and all, summoned fine familiars. Be proud, young mages. Stand tall. You have your familiars now. Soon, the crown and the nation will turn their eyes upon you to lead our country into the future."

A second round of applause came up from the crowd. Henrietta effected another smile and waved at them, and soon the nobles were mingling among each other in small clumps as they talked and laughed and spoke to each other of theirs or their children's newly summoned familiars.

Mazarin approached Henrietta.

"You did well, Your Highness," he said. "It was a fine speech."

"It should be. You wrote it." Henrietta waved over one of the servants holding a tray of glass wine cups and took one. She took a sip to wet her tongue, then set it back down. "Now then, let us go about and make the appropriate niceties. I trust once we are finished, you won't begrudge me the chance to speak with Louise?"

Mazarin dipped his head. "I wouldn't dream of it, Your Highness."

"Good." Henrietta looked around to see which nobleman or woman she should go speak with first. There were so many to choose from that she wasn't quite sure where to begin. Perhaps fortunately, then, she did not need to make that choice – someone else made it for her: a blond boy, with wavy hair, a rose in his breast-pocket, and a giant mole shuffling along by his feet. It was a rare move for a noble to approach her first in such a setting, and rarer still for one so young. Either he was uncharacteristically bold for one of his age or simply wasn't self-aware enough to realize how all eyes were on them now. "Who is that one, Cardinal?"

"He is Guiche de Gramont," Mazarin answered. "Third son of the Gramont family. He is said to be quite brash, which evidently is true, and a womanizer beside, but those are his only noteworthy traits. He is neither a particularly skilled mage nor will he be inheriting the Gramont properties in the future. He is of no importance."

"That is quite the harsh thing to say," Henrietta whispered.

"The truth often is," Mazarin shrugged. "Still, I suppose if nothing else you can use him to get into the good graces of his father. Merely smile at him, allow him to kiss your hand, and he will sing your praises forever."

"Or at least until I become old and wrinkly," Henrietta quipped.

"That is far into the future, and by then I mean to ensure that you have established your own power base," Mazarin said. "Whether he continues to follow you or not will not matter then. Quiet now, Your Highness. Here he comes."

"Your Highness." Guiche bowed low before her. "If I may say, that was a most marvelous speech that you gave. Truly, you have a way with words that would put even the greatest poets to shame."

"Thank you for your kind words," Henrietta smiled, "though I fear you overrate my humble abilities."

"No, no," Guiche insisted. "If I may confess, your words nearly moved me to tears, so powerful that they were. Truly, the gods may have given the Founder his Void, but they gave you an artist's soul."

Henrietta did not feel like standing there being praised to the stars, so, resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she decided to change topics. "You are Guiche de Gramont, are you not?"

Guiche's eyes widened. "You... know who I am?"

"Of course," Henrietta smiled sweetly at him. "Your father fought bravely in the last war. Is he here today? I wish to meet him."

"Y-your Highness," Guiche stammered. "You honor my family greatly. Unfortunately, my father could not come today due to an urgent business, but my eldest brother has come in his stead." He pointed over at a man in his mid- to late-twenties, who very much looked like Guiche, except more strongly built, with a trimmed beard that gave him a rugged impression, and was altogether more pleasing to the eye.

"I see," Henrietta said. "Well, you will give your father my regards, I trust?"

"Yes, of course, Your Highness."

"Good." Henrietta held out one white gloved hand for him, and now Guiche's eyes were growing misty. Henrietta wondered if perhaps she had gone too far. She prayed that he was not about to cry or fall on his knees before her. She definitely did not want the kind of attention that would bring. Thankfully, he instead took her hand with his own trembling one and lightly laid a kiss over her fingers.

"That's one," Henrietta sighed as Guiche left them. "Now for a hundred more to go."

"You exaggerate, Your Highness," Mazarin said. "You only need to meet with fifty or so. May I suggest that man over there next? He is the current head of the Grandpre family. That is his son there next to him, Malicorne."

"My, they're rather... large."

"A testament to the wealth of their lands," Mazarin said. "They hold one of the fiefs by Gallia, and they've grown rich and strong off the trade that passes through their territory. That said, they are not known to be particularly wise with their wealth, and they have racked up quite the tremendous debt to other families, in particular to the Guldenhorfs."

"How do you think I should approach them?"

"Like all nobles, they have a certain vanity to them," Mazarin said. "Absolutely do not mention their size. It will offend them irreparably. Suggest the possibility of a new trade pact with Gallia once you take the throne, and they will be greatly pleased."

Henrietta nodded, and they went over to greet the head and the scion of the Grandpre family.

"Your Highness," the two of them said, bowing as low as their bellies allowed.

"My lord," Henrietta dipped her head slightly in response. The elder Grandpre reminded her of a large snowman she and Louise had once built back in their childhood. He was wide all throughout, but especially around the waist, making his head seem unnaturally small in comparison. His extra chins trembled whenever he spoke, and he had breasts larger than Henrietta's own. His son wasn't quite as bad, but he too had a wide waist and puffy cheeks that pushed up at his already squinty eyes. An owl rested on his shoulder, hooting in protest when its master bowed, flapping its wings irritably to keep balance. "You have summoned a fine familiar. You are of the wind element, then?"

"Yes, Your Highness," Malicorne said bashfully. "Though I'm only a dot mage."

"There is no shame in that," Henrietta said. "Even the renowned Karin the Heavy Wind started as a dot-class mage."

"Yes, thank you for your kind words, Your Highness," Malicorne said shyly, but looking pleased.

"And I thank you as well, Your Highness," the elder Grandpre said. "Oft times I tell my son that he must be more confident in himself – confident! – for he is the proud heir of the Grandpre family. Alas, he still suffers from the fright of people, and women especially. Why, I thought he might never have taken the stage when it was his turn to summon a familiar before his peers."

"Father, not in front of Her Highness, please?" Malicorne complained.

Henrietta smiled. "I'm sure he will grow up to be every bit as brave and as confident as you, my lord."

"Thank you, Your Highness," the elder Grandpre said. "By the by, speaking of familiars, you have, if I may say, summoned a most... ahhh... unusual one."

"He certainly is quite different," Henrietta agreed. "His name is Alex Mercer."

"Mercer?" The elder Grandpre looked confused. "You would give a mere familiar a surname?"

"I did not give him his name," Henrietta explained. "It is the name he gave me."

"It... speaks?" The elder Grandpre scratched his triple chin. "I see. Most unusual, indeed. Are you quite sure it is safe to be around it?"

"Quite sure," Henrietta said curtly. "On another matter, I wish to speak to you of the conditions of your lands."

"We've ruled our land as fair and just as all my predecessors have, since the earliest days in Tristain's history," the elder Grandpre bristled.

"I've no doubt about that," Henrietta said, smiling again now. "I am not questioning your administration. But you see, once I rise to the throne, I plan on negotiating a new trade pact with Gallia. If all goes well, we will be seeing a new influx of merchants yearly, many of whom will by necessity have to pass through your lands on their way to the capital. I am merely concerned that having so many people coming in and out of the country will rapidly deteriorate the conditions of the roads and security of your fief."

The elder Grandpre blinked his beady eyes in surprise. "Your Highness, forgive me for my rudeness. The conditions of my roads are good. I have several unlanded earth mages in my employ who are responsible for its upkeep. As for security, I can hire as many extra mercenaries as necessary to maintain order."

"I am pleased to hear it," Henrietta said, and prepared to end the conversation there. However...

"But if I may, Your Highness," the elder Grandpre frowned, "will this pact truly go through?"

"What do you mean by that, my lord?" Henrietta said, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"I've heard some... troubling rumors," he said hesitantly. "You are to be wed to Emperor Albrecht of Germania, yes?"

"I am," Henrietta said. "I would have thought that this would be a well known fact by now. The engagement was officially announced last month, after all."

"Yes, well, they say that once you are married, it is the Emperor that will rule Tristain," the elder Grandpre said. "If so, will he allow such a trade pact to pass? Is it not more likely that he will seek to restrict our independence?"

"You are truly a most loyal countryman, my lord," Henrietta smiled. "Fear not. While we are to be wed and our countries allied, Emperor Albrecht shall not interfere with our country's rule. Such is the terms of our agreement. Tristain will remain its own sovereign country." Though as to the future, once I have borne him our heirs, who can say?

"I see!" the elder Grandpre clapped his hands together. "In that case, we shall look forward to the future, Your Highness. May you always be so fair and wise."

"And you, my lord," Henrietta said, smiling at them one last time before leaving. She gave Mazarin a sidelong glance and spoke quietly, "So, who's next?"

"I would recommend meeting the Montmorency family."

"They are that famous family of alchemists, are they not?"

"Yes, Your Highness," Mazarin said. "It is good that you remember them."

"They are the keepers of Ragdorian Lake," Henrietta said. "I had a very good time there once, several years ago."

"I see," Mazarin said. "In any case, their influence has been waning as of late due to some ongoing issues with the Spirit of the Lake and a recent split between them and the Alchemists' Guild over some difference in opinions with their leaders, but you would do well to meet with them anyway. Now, you must keep in mind that the Montmorency family are a particularly prideful lot, and not without cause. You would do well to praise their skill in alchemy, perhaps by saying something along the lines of how once when you were dreadfully ill in your youth you used one of their potions and was fully cured that very week."

"Have I truly been that ill before? I can't seem to recall."

"Not as far as I'm aware of, but it is a fiction that suits our purposes."

"Of course it is," Henrietta sighed. "The language of politics is deceit, was it?"

"Indeed," Mazarin said. "Now, after you've met with the Montmorency family, you'll next want to speak with..."

Once Alex was alone in the room, and silence pervaded the place, he found himself lost in thought once more.

So, he thought as he sat there, still leaning against the bed's headboard, magic is real.

He was not surprised he was having a difficult time accepting this fact, even after he had seen the proof with his own eyes. Although he had seen his own fair share of the truly horrific and bizarre, the idea that magic was real was a concept so far removed from his common sense that, more than disbelieving it, he wanted to actively reject the idea. Even now, just repeating that sentence in his head was hard for him to do.

This was not to say that he didn't believe that magic was real now. Rather, he couldn't believe that he believed.

At least with the Blacklight and Redlight viruses, they operated in a way that he could understand through established science, even if they did stretch and twist the boundaries of what was considered possible. But magic?

Alex closed his eyes and shook his head.

He could feel his body getting stronger by the minute now. His damaged tissues were regenerating, his weakened bones reinforcing themselves, and healthy cells were replacing the dead ones. Reflexively, he began to curl and uncurl his hands into fists, clenching harder and harder every time. Soon, he found himself well enough that he could pull the blanket off of him and climb out of bed with smooth, easy motions. As he stood, he rolled his shoulders, lightly working his body and testing just how far he had recovered. His store of biomass was still low, but it would not hinder him too much in a fight. Satisfied by what he found, he took off the clothes Henrietta had him put into and shapeshifted his body out of the nude.

His skin crawled as thousands of little tendrils unraveled, rewove, and changed colors all along his body. Within seconds, he was in his usual attire of a pair of dark blue jeans, a grey hoodie, and a black leather jacket over it with a red design on the back, which pulsated softly with a bioluminescent glow.

By this time, ten minutes had passed since Henrietta had left. The door knocked, and Alex knew it must be the servant Henrietta had said she would send. Without a word, he went over to the door and opened it, startling the girl on the other side.

The servant girl was dressed in a plain black and white dress uniform, and held a tray of food in hand. She had black shoulder-length hair and eyes so darkly brown that they appeared black. When she saw him staring down at her, she quickly averted her gaze, and one foot slid back half a step. It was an unusually frightened reaction, even while considering how he was glaring at her.

Alex realized then that this girl, too, must also know that he was not human. That caused him to scowl. Was there anyone here that didn't already know that now?

Seeing him scowl seemed to frighten the servant girl all the more. "I... I was sent by Her Highness," she said timidly, though it felt like she was actually saying Please don't eat me! "M-may I come in?"

Alex nodded and stepped aside. He saw the girl's throat move as she visibly swallowed a lump in her throat and entered the room. She set the tray down on the table and poured water from a jug into an empty glass cup for him with trembling hands. All throughout, she kept throwing what was meant to be surreptitious glances over in his direction. He noticed them all, but said nothing.

"Will there be anything else you need?" the servant girl said as she straightened her back and faced him.

"No," Alex replied. "Thanks. You can go now."

Breathing a sigh of relief, the servant girl then hastily left the room. Alex went over to the table and sat down.

The meal was a simple yet hearty affair of fluffy, freshly baked bread, hot beef and potato soup, and a side of steamed vegetables. Alex ate it all quickly. Although consuming still living creatures was the fastest and most immediate method of healing himself, he could still digest and extract nutrients from food like ordinary humans. It was a much slower and more inefficient way of recovering his strength, to be sure, but right now anything would help. And until he had a better grasp of his current situation, he thought it would be best not to go around scaring the natives any more than he already had by consuming a person or animal. That would only create more enemies for him.

After he finished eating, Alex decided to leave the room. So far, the only thing he knew about this world was what Henrietta had told him. He wanted to see more of it for himself. Besides, staying cooped up in the room, lost in his own thoughts, was stifling.

Alex wandered around the Academy without any real sense of direction. He could hear, at points, the sound of people outside, and he presumed that was where Henrietta had gone for the party. He did not feel like joining them, however. There were too many people there, too much attention. So instead, he took an opposite path, eventually taking him to the rear exit of the school. Constructed haphazardly against the Academy's castle-like walls outside was what Alex at first assumed to be an old wooden shed, but quickly realized it was actually someone's workshop when he saw the boxes of tools and scrap wood and metal outside.

Curious by how out of place this workshop was compared to the medieval grandeur of the Academy itself, he entered the little hovel, pushing the door open with a rusty creak. The inside of it was cramped with rows upon rows of shelves laden with strange contraptions and doodads. Hidden behind these shelves, close to the rear of the workshop, Alex could hear the sound of someone working with hammer and wrench. He wove his way through the mess and found a balding man in dusty brown robes hunched over a table. He made for a peculiar sight as he labored over some large metal contraption, which was easily as large as the man's torso. The wand that was set beside a greasy rag and the hammer whose noise Alex had heard earlier suggested that this man was a mage like Henrietta, yet he could not have been any more different from her if he tried. He was worrying over some loose gear when Alex made his presence known by clearing his throat.

The balding mage practically jumped in surprise as he whirled about and faced Alex. He blinked owlishly at him from behind a pair of round spectacles. Then his eyes widened in realization.

"Oh," he said, licking his lips. "You're the princess's familiar, are you not? What are you doing here? Are you lost?"

"I'm just looking around," Alex replied. "Didn't know that someone was still in here."

"Just me," the mage nodded. "This is my own personal workshop. Pardon the mess. No one ever comes this way. Oh, but I should introduce myself. I am Jean Colbert, a professor here at the Academy. I teach the course on fire magic for the second and third year students."

"My name is Alex Mercer." Alex pointed at the metal contraption. "What's that you're making?"

"Do you really want to know?" Jean said as he set aside his wrench and began to gesticulate enthusiastically. "This is a device of my own invention – it doesn't quite have a name yet – that will revolutionize the world! The basic principle is that by filling it with oil in this housing chamber here and then igniting it, we create an explosive energy that is captured by this tube over here and funneled over to these pumps here, causing them to move. This in turn causes this wheel that I've attached to the pumps to spin on its own, without the need for a horse or some-such to pull at it." Jean paused suddenly, and he seemed to deflate all of a sudden as the excitement escaped from him. Sighing, he scratched his head, leaving a black oil stain on his scalp. "Well, that's the theory, at least. To be honest, I haven't quite worked out all the kinks from the design yet. But I'm getting close! I can feel it! If I can just get this work before the party, I'll have something I can present to Her Highness. If I can impress upon her the applications of a device like this, I may even be able to obtain a royal grant to fund my research."

"I see," Alex said. "But the party has already started, you know."

Jean blinked at him. "What? That can't be. It can't have been even an hour since the summoning."

"Don't know about that," Alex shrugged, "but the princess left for the party about thirty minutes ago."

"What!?" Jean exclaimed. "Oh... oh dear. I'm late. Excuse me, but I must be leaving. I'll need to wash up and get dressed. Oh, dear. I hope I'm not too late." He grabbed his wand and quickly headed for the door, pausing only just long enough to call back to Alex: "You may stay, if you wish, but please do not touch anything. They're all rather delicate."

After Alex promised that he wouldn't touch anything in the workshop, Jean Colbert left. Once he was gone, Alex glanced back at the table. In many ways, their conversation had proved to be most enlightening, and he was glad that he had come here. He felt that he knew much more about this world now. Still, he couldn't help but find it strangely amusing that in this world it would be a mage who had apparently created its first ever engine.

Every minute felt like an hour for Henrietta, and every conversation felt like a repeat of the one before. They would make niceties, she would stroke their ego one way or another, and they would do the same. Then they would ask her about her familiar before she found a way to end the conversation. By the time Mazarin allowed her to take a small break from meeting with the nobles, her mouth was a desert from having had to talk so much. She gratefully quenched her thirst with more wine, delighting in its cool fruity taste, as Mazarin continued to instruct her on who next she should meet with, that monster.

"Cardinal," Henrietta interrupted him before he could hit his stride. "You promised I would be given time to speak with Louise, but at this rate the party will be over before I get the chance."

"These will be the last, I swear," Mazarin replied. "There are two young ladies who I'd like you to meet. They are foreigners, so I do not yet know how useful they will be to you in the future, but one in particular you ought to meet today."

"Very well," Henrietta said. "Who are these two ladies you speak of?"

"Tabitha of Gallia," Mazarin said. "And Kirche von Zerbst of Germania."

"I've heard of the Zerbst family," Henrietta said. "They're well known for the rivalry with the Valliere."

"Indeed," Mazarin said. "They are also among the most prominent noble families in Germania, and powerful enough that even the emperor must tread carefully around them."

"Not unlike the Valliere," Henrietta mused. "What advice have you for when I treat with her?"

"None, I'm afraid," Mazarin admitted. "If what I've heard of the Lady Kirche is true, the two of you could not be more unlike. Even your elements are diametrically opposed; she is of the fire element to your water."

"Then for what purpose would you have me speak with her?"

"To discover who she truly is," Mazarin said. "Is she merely the lascivious yet magically talented foreigner so many of her peers and teachers say that she is? Or is there something more to her? If so, you must find out whether or not it is possible to establish a close personal relationship with her. Having an ally who is well acquainted with Germanian politics will prove useful to you once you are married."

"I see," Henrietta said. "And what of Tabitha? From which family does she hail from?"

"That I do not know," Mazarin admitted.

"You don't know?" Henrietta echoed, shocked. "How can you not know?"

"There is no information on her," Mazarin said reluctantly. "All I could learn was her given name and from which country she hails from, and that she is evidently rather fond of books."

"Then why would you have me meet her?"

"Because she is by far and away the most skilled mage here in the Academy, more so, dare I say, than even many of the teachers here, despite her youth," Mazarin said. "She has summoned a wind dragon for her familiar, which marks her as a triangle-class mage at the very least, and she will undoubtedly become a square-class mage in the near future, if she is not one already."

"How can a mage with so much potential be an unknown?" Henrietta frowned. "Do you think she's a spy?"

"Possibly," Mazarin said. "But if so, she is not a very good one. A proper spy would hide their true strength, and from what I've heard she spends more time reading than anything else. Perhaps she is the product of an illicit love affair. A bastard. Whatever the case, speak with her, Your Highness. Find out what you can. If she is not a spy, it may be possible to recruit her into our own forces by offering her a title and land. She would prove to be a great asset."

"Very well," Henrietta said. "Let's get this over with."

They found Kirche and Tabitha together, sitting on a bench over by the edge of the courtyard. Tabitha wore an unremarkable blue dress, while Kirche wore a sleeveless black one so daring that it set even Henrietta's cheeks aflame. It had a plunging neckline that revealed nearly everything between Kirche's neck and navel, especially the valley between her ample bosom. On the lower half of her dress, a long slit unabashedly revealed her left leg up to her waist, bared save for the pair of black high heel shoes on her feet. She wore a golden ornament shaped into the figure of a serpentine dragon on one of her arms, letting it wind up and around her upper arm until its head rested on her shoulder.

Seeing her made Henrietta acutely aware of her own wear, and she realized how truly Mazarin had spoken. At a glance, they could not possibly be more different. Where Henrietta had smooth white skin, Kirche had a lusty brown one. Where Henrietta had chestnut-colored hair, Kirche's was a vivid, fiery red. Where Henrietta walked with practiced grace, Kirche lounged on the bench with a cat-like ease. Where Henrietta wore a dress that did not reveal even a speck of her skin, Kirche wore the dress of a harridan – and the boys loved her for it. A dozen or so of them were fawning over Kirche, keeping only just enough distance to respect the personal space of Tabitha's dragon, which slept behind the two girls.

Henrietta shook her head. What is there that I could possibly talk about with this person? Mazarin said that I should see if there's anything more to her, but what more could there be? The girl has already revealed so much.

With the boys' backs turned to Henrietta and Mazarin, it was Kirche who noticed them first. She raised one hand to interrupt the boys and then waved at them, sending them away obediently. Henrietta was impressed by that. She wished that she could do the same thing to the nobles who circled around her like vultures all the time: wave one hand and shoo them away without a word. What a dream.

"Your Highness," Kirche smiled, not even rising to meet her. To her side, Tabitha stood up, bowed, then sat back down, all the while never lifting her eyes from her book. Henrietta could almost feel Mazarin's displeasure at such a brazen act of disrespect radiating from her back. "Please, sit." She sidled closer to Tabitha and patted the newly opened space on the bench with her hand. "It's quite hot today, so it's best to be off your feet."

"I thought Germanians were more accustomed to warmer weather," Henrietta said as she took the offered seat beside Kirche.

"Oh, we are," she laughed. "I was thinking of you, Your Highness. You must be sweltering under all those layers."

"I am used to it," Henrietta said. "I see that you are quite enjoying the breeze."

"Do you like it?" Kirche smirked as she glanced down at her dress. "The boys love it."

"I noticed."

"Many of the older gentlemen as well." Kirche tilted her head back and laughed, a sultry, sensual noise. "They thought no one would notice when they looked my way, but I did. As did their wives. No doubt they are in for an earful when they return home."

Henrietta frowned. "I would hardly think that is something to be so amused over."

"You Tristanians," Kirche shook her head, still smiling. "If you think someone is beautiful, admire them. If your heart is in love, then follow it. That is passion. That is what it means to be alive. What is so wrong with that?"

"Not all of us can afford to be so free," Henrietta said bitterly, and then sucked in her breath as she realized with widened eyes what she had just said. "No, never mind. Please forget I said anything."

Kirche arched an eyebrow as she glanced sideways at the princess, her smile now gone. "I hear we're to be countrymen soon."

"Yes," Henrietta replied warily.

"I am sorry to hear that."

"Are you?"

"I am, truly," Kirche said. "I believe that no one should be forced to marry someone they do not love, yet men of power never seem to agree with me. I left my home because my father thought to marry me off to some old man for their lands and wealth, forgetting that he married my mother for love. But you do not even have that option to flee. I would not wish your fate upon any woman."

"And what fate would that be?"

Kirche paused, and for the first time she seemed to make an effort to consider her words. Slowly, she said, "You will be desired, but not valued. Lusted for, but never loved. And you will share the bed of a man with a dozen women, an object sold for wands and guns for the sake of those whose faces you've never seen. You will not be happy."

"You would speak so ill of your own emperor?" Henrietta said, shocked.

"I would say many things about His Imperial Majesty," Kirche smiled wickedly, "but I fear it would offend your Tristanian sensibilities."

At this, Henrietta couldn't help but laugh too. "You are a bold one, certainly. Were you a Tristanian, it could even be grounds for your arrest."

"Oh? And would you arrest me if I were?"

Henrietta stared at Kirche, and smiled. "No, I do not think I would. As it turns out, I quite enjoy you."

"I aim to please, Your Highness," Kirche gave a mock half-bow. "Though it is usually men who say such things to me."

"Is this a line of conversation that would be appropriate for a princess?" Henrietta asked sarcastically.

"Not in the least," Kirche replied promptly.

"Then I'm afraid I must be leaving now." Henrietta stood up. "Let us talk again another time."

"Yes," Kirche said. But as Henrietta made to leave, the Germanian suddenly reached out and grabbed her by the hand. Henrietta turned and looked at her curiously. "There will come a day when I will return to my homeland to challenge my father's decision to wed me off and come into my inheritance. If, after that day, you should ever need a Germanian to talk to, you will always be welcome in my home."

"I appreciate that," Henrietta said, giving Kirche's hand a gentle squeeze. "Be well, my lady of Zerbst. We shall meet again."

"And you as well, Your Highness." Kirche released Henrietta's hand. "May fortune favor you always."

"What nerve!" Mazarin fumed as they left the Germanian at the bench. "The things she said... such insolence ought to be punished! It was a mistake, I made a mistake, to have you speak with her. If I had known just how rude she could be, I would never have directed you to her. It was a mistake, a mistake!"

"She seems like an honest person," Henrietta said. "Uncouth, certainly, but she meant no harm."

"Uncouth!" Mazarin scoffed. "Your Highness is far too forgiving. She is a wicked, depraved girl."

"She did make it difficult to stay there," Henrietta allowed. So difficult, in fact, that she had to give up on speaking with Tabitha, lest other nobles start to overhear their conversation and whisper ill things of her. "Regardless, what's done is done, and no harm has come of it. Go enjoy the party, Cardinal. I am going to go see Louise Francoise now."

Mazarin sighed as he bowed. "Yes, Your Highness. Please call for me should anything else arise."

"I will."

Once Mazarin was gone, Henrietta looked around the courtyard, searching for her friend. She found Louise standing off to the side, away from the main crowd of nobles, with her familiar standing beside her.

When he had first been summoned, Henrietta had not paid much attention to the familiar. Her sympathies had been with Louise. But now that she had another look at him, she could see how out of place he was compared to everyone else that was here.

He had the appearance of a young human boy roughly around their own age, but was possessed of foreign features unlike anything Henrietta had seen before. His skin was too pale to be a Germanian, but his coal black hair and narrow black eyes were unusual even in the rest of Halkeginia. Henrietta wondered if he came from Rub'al Khali, the land on the other side of elven territory, far to the south, and the only other place in the world where humans were known to exist. She did not think he did, however. She had seen traveling merchants from Rub'al Khali a few times before, and they looked nothing like him.

His clothes, too, were unlike anything she had ever seen before. His jacket was smooth as silk, almost glassy in texture, yet was obviously made of some other material she did not know of. His trousers were made of a roughspun cloth that had been dyed a deep, dark blue. It was similar to the pants that some commoners might wear, but the quality of its make was obviously too high for that. His shoes were made of soft, thick cloth, and were tied together at the front in big loops with strings.

Henrietta recalled what Alex had said. If he looks human, then it's probably because he is a human. She was still certain that he was wrong, but if by some unprecedented chance Louise truly had summoned another human being, then where in the world could one as strange as him come from?

Any further thoughts were cut off then as a group of Louise's fellow students approached her and her familiar. Henrietta kept a safe distance, near the refreshment table, and watched them.

From where she stood, Henrietta couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but their conversation appeared to start civil enough. Their expressions soon changed, however, and Henrietta could see that their conversation had turned sour.

Henrietta felt her temper rise. Once more, those other students were laughing at Louise, mocking her, even as she bit down on her lip with her face bright red, enduring whatever shame they were subjecting her to. She was so brave, so strong. Henrietta envied that.

She had not been able to do anything for Louise during the summoning ritual, but she could do something for her now. It was fortunate that Mazarin was not here to try to stop her with his words of caution. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Henrietta could almost hear her adviser's panicked voice calling out to her, telling her to desist in this course of madness. However, an imaginary Mazarin was so much easier to ignore than the real one. So she pushed the voice aside and kept walking forward, her steps swift with purpose.

"Are you all enjoying the party?" Henrietta said as she approached the group of students from behind with her most beatific smile.

The students turned around. For a brief moment, they still had their stupid, mocking grins plastered on their faces. Henrietta was not one wont to physical violence, but she thought that their faces looked like ones that deserved a strong fist. Then their expressions turned to surprise, then reverence.

"Your Highness," one of the students, a tall boy long, lanky limbs, said as they all bowed. "Pardon us. We did not see you. We are quite enjoying the party, thank you for asking."

"I am pleased to hear it," Henrietta said. "What are your names?"

"I am Olivier Gabriel Victoire de Adrennes," said the tall boy.

"My name is Ada Johanna de Crista," said the girl beside him.

"And I am Adrien Guillaume de Moreau, Your Highness," said the third and last boy. "It is an honor to meet you."

"Yes," Henrietta said. "It is always a pleasure to meet so many promising new students. I hope you'll all pardon me for intruding upon what seemed to be a private conversation."

"Not at all," Olivier said, his lips twitching with barely repressed giggles. "We were just... mmpf!... asking our classmate here about her, ah, familiar."

"Oh? Really? What a coincidence!" Henrietta clapped her hands together. "I was just coming over to talk to my friend Louise about the same thing."

"Your... friend?" Olivier repeated, and all three of their faces suddenly blanched.

"Why, yes," Henrietta smiled sweetly, feeling a sense of gratification from the way they began to squirm. "She was a playmate of mine in our childhood, and I've always thought most fondly of her since then. She hasn't told you about us?"

"Um... no."

"Really." Henrietta effected a great sigh. Then she turned to Louise, who had an uncomfortable look on her face, and reached out and held her hands, giving them a gentle, reaffirming squeeze. "It has been far too long, Louise Francoise. I have sorely missed your company. Come. We simply must catch up with each other." She glanced over at the other three, letting them know she was looking at them, watching them sweat. "I am most keen to hear how you have been, whether you've been... happy or not."

"Yes, Your Highness," Louise mumbled.

"Will the three of you join us?" Henrietta said to the other students. "I think Louise and I would both like it very much if you would."

"N-no, Your Highness," Olivier stammered. "Please forgive us. Our... um... our families are waiting for us."

"A pity," Henrietta sniffed. "Very well. It is not my place to get in the way of a son or daughter's filial duty."

"Yes, thank you." Olivier and the other two hastily bowed and left.

Once the three of them were gone, Henrietta began to giggle. Soon after, Louise joined her, albeit reluctantly.

"Your Highness," Louise said. "I thank you for your help, but you should not waste your effort on one such as I."

"On one such as I," Henrietta echoed and rolled her eyes. "Come now, Louise. Have the years apart diminished our friendship so dearly? Do not speak to your closest friend so coldly, I beg."

"Your Highness is too kind," Louise said. "But if the other nobles learn that you threatened them for the sake of one such as myself, then I..."

"How was she threatening them?" the familiar boy interrupted. "She didn't say anything that sounded like a threat to me. Besides, even if she did, those guys were a bunch of jerks."

Louise sighed and rubbed her forehead. "It was in between the lines, Saito. The princess was saying that if they continued to harass me, she would punish them for it. And what did I say about speaking out of turn?"

"Yeah, yeah," the boy groused.

"Ahem."

"Yes, mistress." Saito rolled his eyes and fell silent.

Henrietta smiled in amusement. "Louise, for your sake, making enemies out of a few minor houses means nothing to me."

"But it would pain me to see you give up even a single gold coin for my sake," Louise insisted. "Please, for the sake of the love I bear you, do not do such a thing again."

Henrietta threw her hands up in the air. "You sound just like Mazarin. Have you spoken with him at all of late?"

"No, Your Highness. I only have your best interests at heart."

"Do not say so," Henrietta said bitterly. "I am so tired of hearing my advisers and courtiers say how they only have my best interests at heart. How could they, when they do not know what weighs upon my heart and soul, nor what lifts me up in my most trying times? If what you say is true, Louise Francoise, if you still have any love for me in your heart, then I ask you to call me as you did in our youth."

"Out here?" Louise looked around worriedly. "It would be inappropriate to address Your Highness with such familiarity."

"We are far enough away that no one will hear, if you speak quietly. Say it, Louise. I urge you to say it."

"... Ann."

An enormous smile painted over Henrietta's lips. It was all she could do from pulling Louise into a great hug. Instead, she said, "Thank you, Louise. You do not know how much it relieves me to hear you say that."

"You're welcome, Ann," Louise said, sounding embarrassed.

"By the by, are your parents here?" Henrietta looked around the yard. "I have not seen them today, and I was hoping to say hello."

A shadow fell over Louise's face. "They were... busy. They could not come today. Eldest sister, as well."

Henrietta's smile slowly turned into a frown. How foolish I am. If the Duke and Duchess Valliere were not here, nor their eldest daughter to substitute for them, it was because they had decided not to come. Henrietta berated herself. She had known but forgotten that Louise was enrolled in the Academy against her parents' wishes. They did not believe she could make something of herself as a mage, and, though it burned Henrietta to admit it, they had a point. Years and years of education from the greatest private tutors fortune could buy had done nothing to improve Louise's magical talent. She was still a mage who could only create explosions. She was still, to them, nothing but a zero.

And so, to avoid having the entire family be shamed in public, they did not come. They abandoned Louise to suffer the humiliation alone.

"I see," Henrietta said, smiling weakly at her friend. "I understand. With a fief as large and as prosperous as theirs, it is only to be expected that the Duke and Duchess have very important matters to attend to."

"Yes."

"A shame, though," Henrietta continued hastily when she saw Louise fall further into depression. "I think they would be thrilled to see what you have accomplished. You've summoned a most unique familiar, just like me. It's almost like we're sisters."

"Your Highness... my familiar is not like yours."

"What do you mean?"

"My familiar..." Louise sighed. "My familiar is nothing but a mere commoner."

Henrietta blinked. "You're sure of this?"

"Yes."

"I... see."

"I'm sorry, Your Highness," Louise said, eyes downcast. "Please forgive my rudeness, but I think I'd like to be alone for the time being."

"I understand," Henrietta said quietly. "Be well, Louise."

"You too, Your Highness," Louise said. Then she bowed and turned to walk away, her familiar following closely at her heels.

Henrietta watched her back as she left, which appeared smaller than usual, and felt sad. Suddenly, a wild, rebellious thought seized her, and it caused words to rise up out of her throat, unbidden. "I'll write you a letter," she blurted out. "Once I have returned from Germania, I'll send you a letter with an invitation to the palace. Please come and see me. Let us talk again then."

Louise turned back around and stared at Henrietta. After a moment, she took in a deep breath and tried to form a smile. "Yes, I'll look forward to it. I'll see you then, Ann."