Lillet Blan was many things: a Royal Magician of the palace's magical staff; a prodigy who'd gained her abilities not through genius but by hard work and study, falling through the loops of time for centuries even though she didn't remember it; a woman devoted to her family who sent a substantial portion of her salary home to pay for her little brother to attend school; an equally devoted lover to her homunculus girlfriend.
She was also a teenager.
"It's not fair!" she complained, somewhere into the third hour of work at her desk.
Amoretta Virgine, the homunculus in question, set a cup down at Lillet's right elbow. Fragrant steam rose from the hot tea inside.
"What's wrong, Lillet?"
"This!" Lillet waved her hand at the pile of papers in front of her. "Why on earth do I have to waste all this time on things that I already know how to do?"
"I don't understand."
"Master Freixenet has me filling out this paper on various functions of intermediate-grade sorcery."
"Oh, is that the test, then?"
Lillet pouted, nodding.
"I feel just like when I was studying basic theory at the Magical Society. Only then, the tests were on things I was learning."
Amoretta smiled to herself, thinking that it was cute in its way to see Lillet being petulant. It wasn't, of course, that Lillet didn't genuinely understand what was going on or why she was being tested. It was just the effect of several hours of mind-numbing drudgery on an active mind.
"You know that Master Freixenet requires every new appointment to the Royal House of Magic to undergo these tests," she said, to remind Lillet that the irritation and boredom had a point.
"I know," Lillet sighed.
"Without an accurate gauge of your ability, he can't decide which Royal Magician can be assigned to which projects that the Crown needs to accomplish," she went on.
"Yes, yes. Tell me something I don't know," Lillet muttered.
"All the Court Society ladies are wearing mantles over their dresses this season, but it's only because Lady de Sangri likes wine too much and spilled some over her daughter's dress in their carriage on the way to Prince Aidan's engagement ball. All the debutantes consider Helen de Sangri to be a leader in fashion, so they all started imitating her, not realizing that she was only covering up the stain."
Lillet blinked at Amoretta, her violet eyes wide and uncomprehending.
"What?"
"You said to tell you something that you didn't know, and I was fairly certain that you didn't know that, since you don't follow fashion and I only heard it accidentally myself when Mistress Absinthe's apprentice was—"
"Amoretta, I didn't mean literally! It's just an—"
Amoretta couldn't hold back her giggle any longer; it bubbled up out of her, and a moment later Lillet laughed too, realizing how she'd been taken in.
"Thanks, sweetheart, I needed that, even if it was an awful joke. And thanks for the tea, too."
"You're welcome." She leaned in, brushed Lillet's hair back, and kissed her on the forehead. "Would you like me to have Gaff bring us up some dinner?"
"Yes, please. It's going to take me at least another three hours to get through all of this." Sighing heavily, Lillet moaned, "I knew this job has responsibilities, but I thought that once I'd graduated from magic school I'd at least be through with homework!"