Racing to the Rescue

But you know what to do (to do)

When it gets hold of you

~ Huey Lewis

Chapter 5

To admit wanting revenge is to admit you have been crushed and need to be rebuilt. Few are comfortable admitting that, even to themselves. ~ Laura Blumenfeld

Apparently having to rescue a family member from being abducted was accepted as a legitimate excuse to skip out on school for a couple of weeks; and, like the absolute gentleman he was, Nicol Fia Ascart had filled out and backdated the documentation for them despite the fact that he'd been short four of his student council minions for the duration. As soon as they signed the forms, the intrepid rescue party (and Keith) were in the clear.

That didn't mean that they'd get to avoid doing their homework though, and proving Keith had been abducted and abused was more difficult when Olivia had been lavish with her light magic to help him recover. By the time that they got back to Holfort, the bruises were gone and he was walking confidently on the leg that had been broken.

"So, are the two of you bonding over being rescued like damsels in distress by brave Sir Katarina?" Clarice asked Leon and Keith as they shared a desk in the Student Council library. "I wish I'd thought of that excuse for a romantic get-away."

Keith kicked his chair backwards and stormed out, face black and fists clenched.

Leon dropped his face into his hands as the second year stared after Keith in surprise. "I… was joking?" she said slowly. "What happened?"

"Clarice, I love you but your timing was terrible," the boy told her. He gestured for her to sit down next to him and leant over. "Look… one of the people who lured Keith away to be abducted was his estranged mother… birth-mother, not Duchess Claes. We're not sure if she was willing or not, and she was killed while we were rescuing him."

The redhead covered her mouth. "Dammit. That poor guy."

Leon nodded. "We're not spreading it around. He knows that you didn't know, but it's still bothering him. I think not least because we don't know if she was culpable for him being dragged off or just another victim."

"So it's true that dark magic was used on him?"

He exhaled slowly. "It's supposed to be an official secret, since the crown don't want rumours of that adding to the current instability, but yeah. I'm guessing the gossip is all over the academy."

Clarice nodded in agreement. "There's a run on temple talismans to invoke the Saintess to protect the bearer against dark magic."

"I should have guessed. Is Marie selling them?"

"Why, however did you guess?" the redhead asked. Lafan's money-making schemes were becoming infamous at the academy… although, to be fair they did generally seem to work. "Do you think they'll work?"

"I doubt it, but Olivia and Katarina are now officially the kingdom's biggest experts on dark magic that aren't under lock and key, so you'd be better asking them."

"Yeah… speaking of Katarina." Leon's girlfriend gave him a nudge. "What's with the rumours that she wants the hero's traditional reward off of you? Gerald doesn't think it's funny."

Leon put his face back in his hands.

"Seriously, I'm not really mad about you running off on a rescue mission," she added. "Maybe a little about Roseblade kissing you, but I knew what I was getting into when I decided to let a knight in shiny armour court me. But I really wouldn't have figured that she'd be walking into doors around you and other signs of being lovestruck."

"She's not," he groaned. "It's to do with how she gained… or perhaps nurtured… her light magic."

"Another secret?"

"Yes." Leon sat back in his chair. "Okay, let me pack my work up - and Keith's. I guess it's fair to tell you but this isn't the place for the conversation."

Leaving Keith's half-done homework stacked at the front of the library, Leon asked Sirius Dieke to let the other boy know where it was once he got back. Then he and Clarice headed off to the gardens.

The weather had a definite chill to it, and clouds threatened rain later in the day. Students were scattered around, enjoying their days off before the end of term exams. Some were using it for studying but being largely unsupervised, some were looking for their work ethic in various corners. Finally, the couple wound up out at the back of the campus, where an isolated vegetable garden was half-way harvested.

"Who is gardening for vegetables on the campus?" Clarice asked, looking at the rows of beans, carrots and a wheelbarrow that held some potatoes. "I didn't think we grew our own."

"We don't."

Leon would have explained more, but an overalled girl emerged from the shed at one end of the plot and waved at them. "Leon, Clarice!"

"...this does not explain anything," the redhead warned him. "Hello, Katarina."

"Shouldn't you be doing your homework still?" Leon asked the effervescent brunette as they reached easy conversation distance.

"I worked all night and got it done!" she exclaimed brightly. "Gerald's checking through it all before I hand it in."

"That's industrious," he admitted. He and Keith were still working on theirs, after all.

Katarina nodded and then yawned. "I think I'm going to have to redo all the history though. Ann doesn't seem to like the founders of the kingdom very much and Gerald didn't think my first version would go down well."

Clarice gave her a confused look. "Anne? Your maid? You don't have her helping you with your homework, do you?"

"No, no!" Katarina waved the garden fork she was holding - fortunately not in their direction. "I wasn't supposed to mention her, never mind."

"And thus we get to the point I was going to explain anyway," Leon told the redhead. "Before we start worrying about cheating… although I don't think the academy actually has a rule against ghosts…"

"Ah! Where?" Katarina jumped, waving the fork around defensively.

"Against disembodied spirits helping students with their homework," Leon corrected himself.

"Leon, have you been working too hard?" Clarice asked him seriously. "Or did Roseblade drug you with something?"

"You don't have any issue with the idea that dark magic was used to abduct Keith, but a disembodied spirit is where you draw the line?" he asked her, grinning.

"I hate that I don't have a good answer for that," his lover grumbled. She perched herself on the wheelbarrow and crossed her legs. "Alright, try explaining it again. I'm listening."

Katarina went back to her carrots, mumbling to herself about ghosts. She seemed to be arguing with someone who wasn't visibly present. Leon had to admit that if anyone at the academy could get away with that, it was her - but even so, it'd be better if she got out of the habit.

"The bracelet she found in the dungeon - did you hear about that?"

Clarice nodded.

"Okay, well, when it was being cleaned up I discovered that it was being haunted by a spirit seeking to possess anyone who wore it," Leon explained. "Obviously I wasn't going to just give it back to Katarina like that, so I had it removed and trapped for interrogation."

"I have so many questions about how you did any of that, but go on."

"The spirit claims to be the legacy of the Saintess," he explained. "She apparently bound her last wishes somehow into her regalia, to carry her wish for revenge down the centuries. Over the years, the various bits of her regalia got lost, and the bracelet ended up in the dungeon. I don't know if she's really the Saintess at all, but she is remarkably knowledgeable in dark magic, light magic and the history of how Holfort was founded… albeit with some details that rather differ from official accounts."

"Thus her history homework problems."

"Thus, indeed, Katarina's history homework," Leon confirmed. "She claims that she and some guy called Lia, who I apparently look just like, did all the hard work - then Holfort stabbed Lia in the back and stole all the credit."

Clarice's brow furrowed. "But why would Holfort found the temple revering the Saintess if he betrayed her?"

"He'd apparently been trying to get into her panties," Leon said with a shrug.

The girl looked betrayed. "Why does this sound so very plausible? It's a betrayal of everything I was taught about the kingdom's founding!"

"You've met Prince Julius?" offered Leon. "He's apparently the spitting image of his illustrious ancestor."

The girl cringed. "Alright, but setting aside the accuracy of this evil spirit's claims - how did she wind up inside Katarina's head?"

Leon sighed. "At the time, the dark mage had seized control of me and was trying to use me to take over my ship. Katarina and the others had rescued Keith, but he was still unconscious - they had no way of knowing if he'd also been affected by the dark magic being used. It seems pretty possible he had been, from what they'd described. And at least one person had already been turned into a monster by dark magic. Things were not going well."

"So they decided to make it worse?"

"A bargain was struck," he allowed. "The spirit claimed - correctly, it would appear - that it could free me from the dark magic. But it needed someone to allow them the use of their body to do so."

"I can see not choosing Olivia, given she'd be the one way to check that dark magic was actually being removed," Clarice accepted. "And Prince Alan being a man would probably be an issue. But what about Violetta or Angelica?"

"I wasn't consulted, but the logic is fairly simple." Leon held up two fingers. "Firstly, Katarina's magic was weakest so giving the spirit access to it was the least risk. Which rather underestimates her other capabilities, but magic was the concern there." He lowered one finger. "And she's also the stubbornest person I know. She stands up to Duchess Claes on things like having a vegetable patch like this one. I don't think that the spirit ever had much chance of taking over."

"Thank you!" Katarina called.

"You're welcome!" Leon called back. "I was meaning to ask - didn't you harvest your vegetables so Olivia could make snacks for the festival?"

"That was summer vegetables! These are winter vegetables!"

"Ah. The more you know…" he muttered, sitting down next to Clarice on the wheelbarrow - it seemed weighted down sufficiently to support them both. "So, Katarina appears to have reached some sort of symbiosis with the spirit."

"Who is called Ann?"

He shrugged. "She says it's her name. What else should we call her? Saying 'saintess' would cause no end of trouble, and she says she never claimed the title anyway. The entire temple thing was started by her little sister and King Holfort."

"And Katarina is occasionally getting lovesick over you because 'Ann' is still hung up on her old boyfriend?"

"It would seem so. I don't really want to get involved in her lovelife. No offence!" he called to Katarina.

"None taken!" She yanked some carrots out of the ground. "Ann's no help either, she just keeps laughing."

Clarice snorted. "So, when Roseblade kissed you for luck, did she say it was good luck she was wishing you?"

"...I don't think so."

"If she was kissing you for bad luck, it would explain a lot about this mess," the girl told him. Then she leaned over and pulled lightly on his jacket, turning him to face him. "In the future, let's stick to me being the one that you kiss."

"I have no problem with that."

Their lips met.

"Hey!" Katarina protested. "Stop that!" When they ignored her, the girl huffed. "Why is everyone being lewd on my vegetable patch. … Ann, you're not helping!"

While each term at the academy ended with a party, they were always different.

The party at the end of the first term divided students by year, so that they could form connections with those they'd be sharing classes with. The party at the end of the third term was divided between the special class and the general class, with families attending - it would be a social issue for so many gentry and the occasional common-born families to be around the nobility.

But the second term ended with a single party that was open to all students, because it marked the handing over of leadership within the student body. Nicol Fia Ascart welcomed everyone to the party with the student council members forming a reception line for everyone that attended - presumably just in case not everyone knew who they were. By the end of the party, Nicol would no longer be the president of the Student Council - it was assumed that third year students would need most of their attention during the last year for their final exams, so such onerous duties were handed off in advance.

Katarina, being a sweetheart, brought food to some of her friends when she noticed that they were staring ravenously in the direction of the buffet. Even with Ann inside of her, she seemed not to have realised that they were only doing so because she'd been there.

"Poor Nicol," Clarice observed once the greeting line was finally released. (Mary Fou Hunt had fallen upon Katarina like a starving but extremely genteel animal and was currently feeding her classmate from her own plate as if she expected the girl to collapse of neglect.)

Leon looked over and saw Clarice's cousin was almost surrounded by thirsty second- and third-year girls. The casualties of the entirely too good looking young man's charm were being discreetly moved off to seats by servants so that they could recuperate in fresh air. "He is rather besieged. I assume his lack of a fiancee has his parent's blessing?"

Given the pressure to marry, Nicol was one of the oldest boys at the school who wasn't engaged - certainly he had the best prospects of any third year that hadn't been locked into an arrangement. Being one of the youngest members of his year - he was still seventeen - gave him a little more manoeuvring room than most but even so, it was unusual.

Clarice nodded. "If it wasn't for that matter we can't discuss, I'd be pushing Katarina towards him. Gerald Rafa Stuart can find some other woman to stalk - did you hear how he got engaged to her?"

"I don't believe so." Leon knew what happened in the show and the game, but he'd never actually heard it from anyone in this lifetime. "They were fairly young, weren't they?"

"She tripped over her own feet and knocked herself out when they were on a play-date," the redhead told him. "Gerald, being a rather bratty eight year old, made a proposal that amounted to 'you're so disfigured that no one else will take you, so I'll marry you out of pity'. He'd prettied it up enough that she accepted, possibly she was still concussed at the time. I'd have thrown a vase at him."

"I would certainly imagine he didn't use those exact words or he would have been shipped back to his parents - were they still alive? - in a basket," Leon observed. That was a little exaggerated. "Disfigured?"

"It was during the gap between his mother's death and his father's," she told him. "And if you were able to check her face closely without her brother and Prince Gerald getting paranoid, you might be able to find a very faint scar on her forehead. Make-up hides it entirely."

"Nicol marrying her would certainly make Sophia happy," he observed.

"It would make Nicol happy," Clarice said confidently. "He's very lonely - Katarina's only the second person outside his family to treat him as something more than an ornament. But he lights up around her."

"How can you tell?"

"...you would have to know him fairly well," she admitted. "However, I'm not sure I'd be doing him a favour at the moment."

Leon nodded. "She seems to be getting back on balance."

"Could you get it out of her?" Clarice asked him, voice very quiet and almost hidden by the babble of girls around the next most eligible boy on the Student Council. Sirius Fou Dieke reportedly had a very full dance card, but many other girls wanted access to him during the window of opportunity before the dancing began.

"...I don't know, and experimenting would be dangerous."

They took glasses from a tray - a light wine that was barely more alcoholic than small beer - and looked for somewhere to wait until the dancing began, ending up in front of the doors that led to a small balcony.

"Lady Ades," Leon heard a familiar voice from the balcony. "Princess Hertrude." He paused and gave Clarice a questioning look.

The redhead winked and backed up slightly towards the curtain, staying out of view of anyone through the doors.

"Lord Arclight," two girls replied. Leon was able to tell that the Ades in question was Violette rather than Scarlet. What did Chris Fia Arclight want with his former fiancee or the Fanoss princess?

The swordsman wasn't slow to reveal his goals. "I am aware that we are not on the best of terms, Lady Ades. And I will not pretend that much - perhaps most - of the blame for that rests with me. However, I can at least recognise you for your accomplishments. By all accounts, you played a valorous part in the rescue of Lord Claes, and I salute you for it."

"Thank you, Lord Arclight." Violette's voice was cool, but not frosty. "My upbringing was perhaps unconventional, but I am pleased to have found a use for what I learned."

"Indeed, I do hope that you find happiness." A moment later, the blue haired boy returned to the ballroom through the door. He didn't seem to notice Leon and Clarice, instead making a beeline towards the little cluster that - as ever - surrounded Marie Fou Lafan.

The music fell silent, the signal that the party's main announcement was due. Violette and Hertrude came in through the balcony door. The princess spotted Clarice and Leon, giving them a little nod that, to Leon, suggested she knew they'd heard the earlier conversation. Violette barely seemed to notice them - she had the look that he had come to recognise as meaning that she had something on her mind. Was Chris' conversation having more impact than Leon had thought?

Nicol stepped up onto the ballroom's grand stair. "Ladies and gentlemen of the academy," he greeted them.

(A girl fainted, but measures were in place and it didn't disrupt anything. Everyone was used to it by now.)

"It has been my privilege to serve as president of the student council," the boy announced. "But today it is someone else's turn to take on that responsibility. As is traditional, my last duty is to share the decision of the academy's staff and the crown that our leader for the next year will be Lord Sirius Fou Dieke."

There was a round of applause, but no surprise. Sirius was popular and hard-working, besides which he was good-looking. Due to Gerald and Alan just barely missing the cut-off to enter the academy the previous year, he was from the highest ranking household represented in the second year's special class.

"Thank you," the young man said humbly as he went up the steps to meet Nicol. They shook hands in a brisk, manly fashion and politely ignored one girl's loud demand of "Kiss!" (She was promptly dragged out of the room by some of her classmates under the direction of Dierdre Fou Roseblade, presumably to be heckled to death. No matter how much some girls liked to fantasise about boy-love, the simple fact was that boys turning to each other meant that they were less available to marry - and both the incoming and departing presidents were currently available.)

Nicol retreated down the steps and Sirius turned to face them. "Ladies and gentlemen," he greeted them with a warm smile. "I look forward to leading you through the next year. However, my first responsibility is to lead you in tonight's dancing."

A number of ladies took deep breaths.

"Lady Violette Rafa Ades," Sirius declared clearly. "As your fiance, may I invite you to dance?"

"...what?" Clarice and Leon looked at each other, having exclaimed in unison. Both of them turned to Violette - as many other people around the room did.

The silver-blonde girl inhaled. Exhaled. Then she looked up at Sirius and nodded. She strode forwards onto the dance floor, with people moving out of her way. Only Alan failed to do so, apparently frozen in surprise. Only when Violette swept her hand to gesture for him to move aside did the prince make way for him.

Sirius met her halfway and as their hands met, the musicians began to play.

"They look good," Clarice observed.

"Handsome guy, beautiful girl - not you, of course." Leon shook his head. "But where did this come from?"

"Probably their parents." She shook her head. "I'm not saying it couldn't work, but this reeks of politics. Have the two of them even spoken to each other?"

"I don't know - but she's not on the student council and they have no classes together."

Once the first song was over, other dancers began taking to the floor. Sirius and Violette parted ways and girls clustered around the new student council president. Violette made her way back towards her previous place at the edge of the room.

"Congratulations," Hertrude gave Leon and Clarice a pointed look before turning to her previous companion. "I take it that this is a recent development?"

"Yes. My father wrote to me recently."

"Ah." The princess nodded in understanding. "I will also likely have little freedom of choice when it comes to my marriage - I may technically be sovereign but political demands are the price of our many privileges. I hope that you do not find Lord Dieke too repulsive."

"I cannot say that I am aware of any particular defects that he has, though I am also unaware of his virtues - by way of barely knowing him at all."

"That seems a remarkably quickly arranged engagement," Clarice observed. "Usually the couple should at least meet long enough to have some idea of who they are marrying before it's put on paper."

Violette's eyes did not meet anyone's. "I would not wish to sound ungrateful for the time my father the duke has put into forging this marriage alliance." She looked back over her shoulder for a moment, at the auburn-haired young man she'd been told to join her life with. "Although I would have been grateful for more than a few hours to grow used to the idea before it became public knowledge."

"A few hours?" Leon asked, wondering if he could encourage Scarlet to cast fist a few times at her father.

"The letter arrived at breakfast," Violette told them. "Excuse me, I need some fresh air."

The three of them watched her depart through the doors.

"I believe your family managed to conquer Count Olfrey's domain and make yourselves counts at his expense," Hertrude said conversationally to Leon. "Given his proximity to my own lands, it was of some concern."

"We did, yes."

"And your new and old domains bracket the Ades'," she continued. "Does your father have any ambitions to become a duke?"

"He's not really happy about becoming a count."

"Pity."

Clarice nodded. "I've met his son and Auld Rafa Ades has three really nice children. I can't imagine where that quality came from."

Hertrude's rooms were almost back to the state they'd been in when she arrived, months ago. That had been long enough that she'd become comfortable in them, adding personal touches such as ornaments or just leaving her paperwork out - nothing sensitive, but things that were more convenient to keep to hand.

Now all that was packed away, because with the term ending she would return to Fanoss. She felt, as she entered her room, that she should be happy about that.

She was leaving behind the kingdom that had been her family's enemies for generations. She was going back to see her sister, the servants of her household and the lords who had pledged to serve her.

And yet, she was melancholy as she walked through the door. Perhaps it was Violette's sudden betrothal - she wouldn't go so far as to call the girl a friend, but under other circumstances she might have. If Leon had accepted her challenge as anything but a joke…

Well, the prospect of the Bartfords ruling a swathe of the northern kingdom would actually be rather bad for her, she admitted privately. Such a combined domain could field a powerful fleet and would have every reason to defend their western extremity from Fanoss. Fortunately, that very possibility could make them a secession risk and thus King Roland would never allow it.

Thoughts of Violette's engagement were swept from her mind as the princess entered her main room and found a familiar masked and cloaked figure standing at her desk.

"My god," she murmured. "You do have a habit of walking into Fanoss maidens' personal quarters as if you owned them."

The figure wheeled, and she thought to her pleasure that she had caught him off guard - a petty revenge but perhaps all she could manage. The guards around her right now were fewer than in Castle Fanoss, and their failure would be more public and humiliating here than back there.

And somehow, just as he had caused no injury to her or to Hertrauda before, she thought that he would be similarly careful now. He was a thief, not an assassin.

The intruder sketched a bow towards her. "And yet again, you come upon me unaware, your highness. I salute your stealth. Would you care to run away with me for a life of crime and adventure? I think you might have potential."

"Thank you, but no."

"Alas, rejected once more." He sidestepped, towards the window and revealing the desk - upon which Hertrude saw an unfamiliar casket left upon it.

"Did you steal that from someone else?" she accused lightly, indicating it. "Or are you making a delivery?"

"The latter."

"I could still scream," she warned as he took another step towards the window. "I think Holfort would be incredibly embarrassed that someone pierced the security around the academy."

"My fair princess, such a scandal as a man entering your chambers might also stain your own reputation. I beg that for your own sake that you refrain - even if it might make you feel better."

Still, he took no further steps and watched silently as she walked to the desk and flipped up the lid of the casket. It was unlocked, and what she saw inside was a mix of her hopes and her fears.

Fragments of metal, ancient alloys that could no longer be reproduced, lay on a crimson layer of silk. Enchantments shattered when the instruments that bore them were ruined beyond any repair. What forces could have done that, Hertrude did not know, but as she lifted one part of what remained she felt the faintest hint of the majesty she had once touched upon in experimenting with her family's legacy.

The Flutes of Fanoss had been destroyed.

"Does it satisfy you?" she asked savagely, "To have blasted so conclusively our one trump card? The one thing that kept King Roland and his companions from breaking our truce and conquering Fanoss? My knights would die almost to the last to keep such savagery from my people… but with the numbers Holfort can deploy, die they assuredly shall."

The man watched her and then shrugged. "Look beneath the silk," he suggested.

Hertrude gave him a puzzled look and then replaced the fragment in the casket. With some reverence - even ruined, the fragments were a treasure of her house's history - she took the silk at both sides and lifted it, finding it folded such that it let her easily keep the metal shards contained. When she had set them down on the desk, she found that still within the casket's interior lay a folded parchment.

The princess removed it and unfolded it, recognising by its stiffness that this was no recent document. Years old, like those she had studied in the archives of her home or in the back corners of the academy's library. (Which came embarrassingly close to exceeding the finest collections of her homeland.)

"And this would be?" she asked.

"A treasure of House Holfort, if a minor one." The man must be smiling. His tone betrayed it. "They won't notice it's gone, I left them a very good forgery in its place. And since there should be a copy of this in your archives and yet I found none, I felt I really ought to make good the lack."

The girl read it. "Lies."

"Are they?"

"My ancestors," she snapped, "Rebelled against the tyranny of the Holforts."

"I have no doubt." He bowed again. Mocking her. "And I will readily admit that the rulers of this kingdom are no more immune to tyranny than they have been to folly, corruption and many another flaw that may be ascribed to rulers. But that treaty, offered and accepted, does indeed spell out the tyranny to which a certain forefather of yours objected."

"Holfort's knights ravaged my homeland!"

"I know."

"They slaughtered my people."

"They did indeed."

"They betrayed us, cheated us, stole from us."

"Yes, yes, and yes." He seemed to grow before her, a mischievous goblin becoming an ogre of fear. "And can you place your hand upon your heart and swear to me that Fanoss did none of these things? You may pile all the wrongs of the world in one place, but they will never be a right, Princess."

"This can't be!" She flung the parchment away, as if it was venomous.

But if that was so, she was already poisoned. Because the words, once read, could not be unread.

"Faced with Duke Adrian Rafa Fanoss' refusal to cease warring upon his neighbours," the masked man decreed mercilessly, "King Jasper Rafa Holfort did offer him complete independence from the crown authority, so long as he paid recompense for the lives lost, fortunes stolen and entire islands shattered in his greed to enrich himself at his neighbours expense."

He took a step forward, Hertrude took one back.

"And with the wealth Adrian, hereafter Sera Fanoss, yielded to free himself from the tyrannical demand that he should not prey upon his neighbours, the Holforts established fortresses upon the islands between themselves and your home isle - and the greatest of those fortresses they placed in the care of Lord Field, thereafter a marquis of Holfort and the greatest march lord of the region."

Crouching, he lifted the parchment and placed it on the desk next to the ruined flutes. "Both of these are parts of your heritage, your highness. How do you think that the threat of using the greatest summoning of monsters that the flute can manage to destroy entire islands would stand if it had not been done, at least once?"

Strength fled her legs. Hertrude dropped to the floor. Tears began to pour down her cheeks. "You already took my revenge from me, can you not leave me even this?"

He walked away from her, towards the window. "Your parents turned away from that path, Princess Hertrude. It was brave, and it killed them, but they had all the facts and they made a difficult decision. I respect that. Now you have all the facts, and can make your own choice. I will not tell you to do as your parents did, nor as your advisors wish you to. All I can tell you is that the choice is yours and that once made, you will have to live with it."

"You have done me no kindness," she called bitterly as he reached the window and flung one leg over the sill.

"I'm the sort of asshole that sneaks into a girl's room and steals her father's legacy," he pointed out. "But… I do think that if I were a father, I'd want my children to live for my sake, not die for it. Take that for comfort, if it helps."

And then he was gone.

Hertrude buried the heels of her hands against her eyes and doubled over, sobs chasing the tears as they poured out of her.

"Damn you, Carmine Sandiego," she cursed, elbows resting on the carpet. "Damn you all. Why do this to me? Why do you have to be such a miserable thieving, cheating scoundrel? Why did my parents have to die? Why can't Hertrauda and I have one single comfort!? Why!? Why? Why!"

And when her tears were spent, when she had no more sobs to give, Princess Hertrude Sera Fanoss was left only with clarity as her companion. She rolled over, lying sprawled on the floor with her arms outstretched.

"Damn you too, Leon Fou Bartford," she said quietly, thinking of the views on revenge she'd heard from the boy most often assigned as her escort here at the academy. "How dare you be right!?"