A/N: If you're familiar with canon, you've probably noticed that Jason isn't blundering into power-ups like Saito, or getting the same setting info. That's deliberate on my part: Some of what the kid got quickly handed in canon would let an intelligent familiar break the setting. This way it'll break slower.

On the other hand, some of it's because Jason's the wrong familiar. The Arbiter decided Saito fit the profile. It never got a chance to properly evaluate Jason.

Fugitive, Part I

Jason nodded thoughtfully as the row of targets swung back and forth on the chains they dangled from, in the field outside the Academy walls. "Not bad. I think you've only missed, what, twice today?"

Louise smiled and nodded. "That's right."

"Still no sign you're producing fire, though."

Her smile melted into a scowl. "I'll get it eventually," she growled.

"I'm sure you will. But for now, we need to up the difficulty again."

"Another five paces back, then?"

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well . . . the thing is, in combat your targets don't stay still. If you're dodging incoming spells, neither do you. We need to try to be a little more realistic."

She gave him a questioning look. "So do you want to go back to Mr. Colbert to ask for better targets?"

"Mmm. Rather not do that until we've done all we possibly can on our own."

"We?" Louise looked up at Jason with exasperation, hands on her hips. "You've just been using these afternoons to run around."

"Well, yeah. It's good exercise. And . . . aha! I have it!"

"Wha-?!" His little mistress broke off with a squawk as he picked her up by her waist and deposited her on his shoulders. Then he slid his grip down to her thighs, to hold her steady.

"What are you doing?!"

"This won't be perfect, but it'll at least provide more of a challenge for you."

"Let me down!" she insisted.

"No, not until we've given this a try. If you want to impress Henrietta, you need to train."

"But my skirt is bunching up! And-" Louise broke off. From the faintly mortified sound of her voice, she was probably starting to blush. Which made sense: Her skirt still provided a fair bit of modesty in back, but the front was bunched up against the back of Jason's head, leaving her hosiery-covered legs exposed against his chest. And, of course, there was the warmth and pressure on the fabric now pressing up against the back of his neck.

"No one's out here with us," Jason pointed out in a reasonable tone. "And I'm serious about the challenge. As long as I'm jogging you ought to have a harder time hitting the targets."

"I can run around myself!"

"In a skirt? Besides, I've been jogging, you haven't. You wouldn't have the endurance to keep it up for very long."

There was a fuming silence.

"Louise, let's just give it a try. If it doesn't work, we'll figure out something else."

More silence. Finally she rapped the top of his head with her wand. "Just get moving."

It was a little harder to get going – Louise was light, not weightless, and carrying her shifted his center of gravity noticeably – but all the exercise he'd been doing was definitely starting to pay off, and as Jason got up to speed, his little mistress started laughing with delight. Then she got down to business.

After several minutes he slowed down and stopped, breathing heavily, and let her slide off.

"That was more entertaining than I expected," she admitted, grinning, face flushed. "What's wrong? You aren't worn out already, are you?"

"I was – pushing myself – harder," Jason gasped. "Trying to go faster to – make it a challenge." He got his breathing to slow enough to start taking deep breaths. "And from what I saw, you were only hitting them about one time in four. So this should be good for you."

"What should I do now, while I wait for you to catch your breath?"

He shrugged. "Try stepping back five paces, like you said earlier. We can alternate back and forth between the two."

She nodded, counted out five paces, and resumed casting.

The afternoon light was just starting to dim when they heard a faint clatter of hooves and the squeak of axles. Louise Levitated herself up to get a look, and quickly came back down.

"That's Count Motte's banner approach," she reported, grimacing. "Take my hand . . . no, not my wand hand!"

As soon as Jason had a secure grip, she Levitated both of them up to her room. He couldn't help but notice that she was keeping the Academy walls between them and the visiting noble.

"Nicely done," he said as soon as they were through the window and he didn't have to worry about breaking her concentration. "That's the biggest load you've Levitated so far, and I didn't feel a thing. I think we can say you're solid on that one."

She smiled, clearly pleased at having her progress acknowledged.

"Anyway, I take it that this Motte fellow is bad news?" he continued.

Her expression turned a bit unsure. "Father didn't like it when he was given a position in the Crown Purse, but . . . I don't know. I just didn't think it was a good idea to let him see a Vallière alone with a man, even if the man is my familiar."

"So there's bad blood between the Motte family and the La Vallière family, then? Like with the Zerbsts?"

She shook her head. "There isn't a Motte family. He didn't have a title until Cardinal Mazarin selected him."

"'Cardinal'?" Jason tilted his head, concentrating. "Say that word again."

Louise frowned, but . . . "Iman."

"Again."

"Bishop."

"Again."

"High Priest."

"Again."

"Rabbi . . . what are you doing?"

"My language has a lot of words that can mean something like 'Cardinal'. I'm trying to see which ones won't fit."

"Why don't you just tell me the rest of them? Wouldn't that be faster?"

Jason blinked. "You're right, it might be. Um . . . Minister, Deacon, Priest, Parish Priest, Patriarch, Apostle, um . . . Prophet, Mullah, Levite, Disciple, Saint, um . . . Votary, Avatar, Savior, Messiah . . . I can't think of any more right now."

"That is a lot of words. Only two of them came out as Cardinal, though. They were . . . uh . . . Patriarch Mullah? Did you get that right?"

He nodded. "Yeah. So I'm guessing Cardinal Mazarin holds a high religious office, is effectively independent even if he supposedly answers to a religious superior or council, possesses vast political influence, but doesn't exhibit any overtly visible divine power or insight."

Louise slowly nodded back. "You understood that from the words his title translated as?"

"Well, that and . . . there was a rather famous Cardinal a few hundred years ago who was, for all practical intents and purposes, the ruler of the country whose king he supposedly advised."

"Cardinal Mazarin is Princess Henrietta's regent."

Jason blinked again. "Wait, you mean your friend is the heir?"

His little mistress gave him another nod. "She won't be crowned until the Regency Council approves or she gets married, but with the King dead, that's not far off."

"Except Mazarin holds the real power. And he appointed this Motte fellow, so his first loyalty is to Mazarin for his position . . ."

"And his estate."

"His estate?"

Louise rolled her eyes. "You can't be a Count if you don't have your own lands."

"Hmm. Hey, how common is magical talent?" That hadn't come up in Madam Chevreuse's class, so it was probably covered in the First Form curriculum. We still need to know how many mages there are vying for estates.

"Um." She paused, looking thoughtful. "Perhaps one in ten people could be at least a Dot, but not everyone can afford to get trained properly. Oh, and some commoners are hedge-mages, only able to learn some cantrips and maybe a single Dot, not matter how much they train. Remember that Nora girl, who tried to sneak into classes? That's probably what her situation was."

"So there are a lot of people out there who could be noble, but never have the opportunity because they can't afford training?" Jason asked, to clarify.

Louise shrugged. "If you're a strong Dot before you summon a familiar, any school of magic would take you as a student, and once you graduate you'd be a petty noble, at least. Otherwise, you'd have to hire your own tutor. Even some nobles do that rather than send their children to the Academy. Or maybe find a hedge-mage who needs an apprentice." Then she grimaced. "If you can't hope to get beyond Dot, a lot of what the Academy teaches would be wasted on you anyway."

Jason nodded, holding back a wince. So even if you're born with magic life can screw you over before you so much as get started.

Unlike most days, Siesta brought her own supper and joined Jason for the evening meal. He couldn't help but notice that she was practically bouncing with excitement.

"What's up?" he asked once he'd made some headway into his porridge. "You're acting like you're about to burst."

"Did you see the new Count come in today?"

"Oh. Yeah. Politics."

"They say he was given one of the estates that reverted back to the Crown, nobody really wanted it because it was ruined by then, and its been abandoned for decades, and now he's trying to turn it into a proper demesne!"

"Okaaaay. Siesta, I'm still having trouble seeing how this is something of any real interest."

"Ooh, you really didn't hear! There've already been three different brawls over it."

"Ah. Fights. I see the cause of fascination." Jason paused. "Why are there fights going on?"

"Oh! Because they need women, of course."

". . . What?"

Siesta rolled her eyes. "You're acting like you don't know anything!"

He shrugged helplessly. "I think I might not. Maybe start from the beginning?"

She sighed. "Fine. Count Motte was given his title and his lands last year, of . . . oh, you weren't here for that, were you?"

"No."

"Well, nobody at the Academy knew where his lands were to be, because he spent the winter at court, sorting out that scandal with the treasury. Everyone thought he'd be granted one of the demesnes with a steward to keep it from going fallow, but it turns out he got one of the abandoned ones! And as soon as the weather broke this spring, he went there with his retainers to clear out everything lurking in the ruins!"

Wait, someone was getting some live-action dungeon clearing done this spring? Cool! "Okay, I think I get it. So what's he doing here?"

"Remember how Fouquet stole the Staff of Destruction?"

"The . . . yeah, the staff. Didn't know that's what it was called. Powerful weapon, I take it?"

Siesta nodded. "They say you can kill a full-grown dragon with it, from farther away than any mage can hope to aim a spell. The Headmaster created it decades ago."

"Oh." Okay, we can see why Fouquet considered it a prize worth going after. "So what does the theft have to do with it?"

"Count Motte was sent here to audit the Academy, of course!"

"Ah." Jason paused. "How much trouble are we in?"

The maid looked thoughtful. "Not too much. You know the Academy is allodial, right?"

"No, but . . . would it matter? We're surrounded by Tristain, after all."

She nodded. "They say it still matters. So a landed noble, even if he's new to the peerage, had to be sent instead of a petty noble. Anyway, Count Motte must have just about finished clearing out his demesne, because as soon as he arrived, his retainers started trying to convince us to leave with them!"

"Huh?"

"You need mages and warriors to clear out ruins in a demesne gone fallow, but after that you need to bring in women so you can settle everyone down and raise families." She giggled at Jason's expression. "And everyone knows the Academy hires the prettiest commoners to be maids."

Can't argue about that last. "They didn't bring women with them to help clear the ruins?"

"Maybe some of the mages. But if you're campaigning against orcs, all the commoners have to be big and strong. Especially the shield line, but if some of the orcs sneak around anyone might have to be able to hold off an orc until their lord can kill it." Siesta shrugged. "You hear stories about commoner women who fight, but not in formation and not against orcs."

"Okay. So the count's men are recruiting, because Motte needs women." Jason paused. "Yeah, I can see how that would start fights. Or are you building up to something else?"

She shook her head. "And it could get worse tomorrow. The stable-hands and other men don't like these interlopers swaggering around, bragging about their kills, but a lot of us have sweethearts in Menenville. If they hear about all this, they'll be on their way to help drive off Motte's men."

He shook his head. "So three fights today, and more to come. Well, at least it's entertaining to watch." Then he tilted his bowl back to get the last of the pottage.

Siesta smiled and nodded. "I just wish we maids didn't have to move around in groups."

Jason set the bowl back down with a solid thump. "Come again?"

She grimaced. "One of the fights started because Lucie, you've seen her in the laundry, started flirting back with two of Motte's men, but when she refused to leave with them, they tried to drag her off. She screamed, they couldn't disappear with her fast enough to avoid getting caught, and now the Head Maid says we have to move around in groups whenever we're outside."

"Oh." And here we have another example of something we can't expect to be able to fix. Not unless Louise – damn, no, she's just a student. At least everyone's realized the need to be prudent.

"Of course Count Motte can be a problem for the Academy," Louise pointed out that evening when Jason brought the subject up. "The Crown pays part of the bill for students who have enough talent to be worth training, but who come from impoverished families."

"Ah." A thought struck him. "What happens if someone from a commoner family has powerful magic?"

His little mistress rolled her eyes. "Then someone else was too much a coward to acknowledge one of their by-blows. If they have enough to be worth teaching by the best in Tristain, they get taught. The more Lines and Triangles loyal to the Crown, the better."

"Not Squares?"

"Don't be silly! A Square wouldn't just be taught, they'd be taken into the peerage as soon as they pledged their loyalty." Louise shrugged. "If they haven't already, by the time they attain Square. It's not easy."

"Right. But back to this audit that's going on-?"

"The Academy is the best. But it isn't the only school for magic, and some of the others would love to be able to hire away the teachers here. The Headmaster can afford to pay Triangles to teach. If the Crown cuts its support, people may think the Academy is starting to decay."

"Ah. So the Headmaster has a strong interest in convincing Count Motte that this theft is unlikely to be repeated." Another thought struck Jason, and he smiled cynically. "Or, I suppose, to convince Count Motte to report that the Academy is secure."

She looked thoughtful. "Count Motte was the one who sorted out that Purse scandal, last year. Offering him a bribe might not be wise."

He frowned. "So why did your family oppose his appointment, if he's too honest to bribe?"

Louise looked uncomfortable for a moment, then shrugged it off. "It's not that. It's that he was appointed by Cardinal Mazarin."

"I-" Jason broke off and paused. "I'm not sure I follow. A good choice is a good choice, right?"

Louise nodded. "But!" she then said, flicking her wand for emphasis, "Cardinal Mazarin shouldn't be making that kind of decision on his own. He should've consulted Princess Henrietta."

"Oh. Chain of command issues. Has that been a problem?"

Louise nodded again. "The royal line comes through Queen Marianne, but her husband Henri was crowned jure uxoris, and she let him reign. Then, when he died three years ago, she appointed Cardinal Mazarin to be Henrietta's regent, formed the Regency Council, and went into mourning." She frowned. "When she did that, Mother mentioned that Her Majesty never had the stomach to rule on her own."

"Okay. And the princess?"

"Father says, how is she supposed to learn to rule if Cardinal Mazarin decides everything for her? It's good that he's loyal to Tristain, it's good that he's wise, but unless he thinks he can persuade Henrietta to marry him he's never going to be the King. Henrietta will be crowned, she will reign, so she needs to start learning how to make her own choices. The Cardinal needs to learn to step back and advise his future queen, rather than decide things for his vulnerable and inexperienced princess."

Jason nodded back, slowly. "That's . . . pretty well thought out. But Count Motte is here now, and-" He cut off once more as a thought struck him. "Did the Count happen to bring any mages with him? Maybe looking for Academy-trained wives and husbands?"

"Wives and-" Louise broke off and snorted. "That's what they were doing over by the Third Form tables, before the teachers made them leave. They must have cleared out the d'Challant ruins already."

"So the gossip goes. Nobody talked about it?"

"A few men approached the Second Form tables, but Zerbst started flirting with them, and she left with them about halfway through the meal." Louise rolled her eyes. "Merciful Brimir, it was just like when she first arrived!"

Jason was halfway through breakfast the next day before he registered Siesta's dispirited demeanor as anything other than tiredness.

"What's wrong?" he finally asked. "Did someone get badly hurt?"

The maid picked at her food for a while before responding. "It's nothing," she finally uttered dolefully, and then sighed.

"Yeah, I don't believe you," he responded. "If you don't want to talk about it, that's up to you, but I'm willing to be a sympathetic ear. And if it's something that can be fixed, I'm willing to try. Hell, I can go to Louise if you need some heavyweight noble action."

Siesta flinched, just a little bit, and refused to say anything else.

"Chef Marteau?" Jason asked, surprised. "Um, not to be rude, but, where's Siesta?"

"I should not say," the chef responded, setting down Jason's lunch. "Interfering with the will of nobles is never wise." Then he turned to go.

The hell is going on, anyway? "Okay, wait. I could tell something was wrong at breakfast, but Siesta wouldn't give me any details. And now you're saying that nobles are involved. So if crossing a noble is a bad idea, I need to know what's going on, just so I don't accidentally cross any myself."

Chef Marteau stopped. "What you are not told, you cannot feel a duty to share with others."

"Duty? Why would-" What could she have done? Killed someone? We doubt that. "Okay, you want to speak of duty? Last I knew, Siesta had a duty to handle the requirements of a strange, difficult, and exotic familiar. Namely me. Whatever is going on is clearly interfering with that duty. Now what is going on, and what do I have to do to get my handler back?"

That got Marteau to turn around. He smiled sadly. "I think I believe you. But even if your master supported you, no student could stand up against a Count."

"Count? As in Count Motte? What's he-" Jason broke off, dread spiking his stomach. "They got to her, didn't they? His warriors, they cornered Siesta and some other maids and made off with them."

"Ah! If it were only that!" the chef flung a hand in the air dramatically. "It's the eyes. Her family are the only ones with such an exotic slant." The back of his hand was now pressed against his forehead. "Siesta has no end of admirers, but the Count saw her, and declared that she would leave the Academy to serve as his personal maid."

"And he can just say that?!"

"They say the Headmaster is not enjoying the scrutiny of this visit. To end this troublesome audit, one maid must seem a small price to pay to an archmage."

"Yeah, but she was my handler first." Jason's eyes narrowed. "Alright, where are they keeping Siesta?"

He was not expecting Chef Marteau to step forward and envelop him in a bear-hug. "So brave!" the chef declared. "So prepared to go into battle to protect your girl!"

Uh, she's not exactly our girl. He felt his cheeks heat, and tried not to squirm. "So where is she?"

"You need not worry." Chef Marteau dropped his voice to a whisper. "Tonight, when all retire, she'll leave the Academy and make her way to her home, in Tarbes. She'll surely be safer there."

"So what if Count Motte flat out demands to take some of the maids with him?" Jason asked Louise as he was setting up her targets that afternoon. Today, just to be safe, they'd picked their spot to be clearly visible from multiple windows, including Mr. Colbert's classroom.

"He'd have to get the Headmaster to agree, at least."

"Which he can presumably force with the threat of an extended audit."

"It could work,"she said thoughtfully, taking aim at one of the targets, "but the Academy would have a harder time hiring afterward, if contracts of employment were openly broken."

"What if it were just one maid?"

She waited to respond until her Firebolts, or more accurately the explosive miscasts, hit all the targets and set them swinging. "Concocting a story to save face would be easier, I suppose." Then she gave him a faintly suspicious look as they stepped back five paces from the targets. "Which maid?"

"Siesta," Jason admitted. "Word is, the Count is much taken with her eyes."

Louise rolled her eyes. "So are some of the students, by the jests they whisper to each other." She shuddered, before starting another round of casting. "So vulgar."

That made him pause. "They know her?"

"No, they just know there's a 'slant-eyed maid with raven hair', and make revoltingly crude claims about what she's willing to do." His little mistress gave him another suspicious look. "Is she?"

"Uh-" His brain locked up for a moment. "You know, suddenly some of her earlier nervousness around me makes a lot more sense, if she's heard the same kind of rumors. And no, she isn't free with her favors. She's just pretty, and apparently exotic, and boys will make up crude lies when they don't have anything real to brag about."

Louise snarled as she missed one of the targets, and started over. "'Apparently?'" she asked between casting.

"She wouldn't seem so exotic to my generation, back home. Pretty, yes, but black hair and tilted eyes aren't unknown. Blue and green hair, that's unusual where I'm from. Hell, we have blondes and redheads, but your hair is a lot closer to pink than any redhead back home."

She paused her casting and looked over at Jason with an unreadable expression. "Truly?"

"Yep. You're the first natural rosecrown I've ever met. Guess that makes you the exotic beauty."

Louise flushed, and turned back to cast, but couldn't quite suppress the smile that played at her lips.

"But getting back to Siesta," he continued, pleased to see the effect of his flirtatious compliment, "what if she doesn't want to go with Count Motte?"

His little mistress didn't respond for a long moment as she thought it over. "If the Headmaster gives her up," she finally said, "then I don't see a way for her to avoid being taken by the Count."

"Her home is a place called Tarbes. What if she goes there?"

Louise shook her head. "Tarbes is days away. If Count Motte has the Headmaster's cooperation, he'll just demand the tracking spell that was used on Fouquet. If he can't get it, he can just run her down anyway."

"Oh. Shit. There's no way to block that?"

"If I knew how the spell worked, I could try to devise a counter," she replied. "If my Mix wouldn't damage the components so badly."

"You are getting there with Mix," he pointed out encouragingly.

"But I don't know how the Headmaster's spell works." Her eyes narrowed. "You want to save your maid."

"Well, yes. You and she are the two friends I've made since arriving, and I don't want to see anything bad happen to either of you. So can you think of anywhere she might be able to go, that she'd be safe from pursuit?"

Louise turned away, and didn't respond.

Finally Jason stepped over to her. "Little mistress? What is it?"

"You know as well as I do that students' rooms are warded for privacy," she muttered sulkily.

"Oh. No, I didn't know that." His voice took on a tinge of hopeful speculation. "Would that work against tracking magic?"

"It might." She whirled around and glared up at him. "Y-you want m-me to h-hide that maid up in my b-bedroom, d-don't you?" she demanded.

He smiled sadly back down at her. "I know it's a lot to ask, but I can't just stand by and let Siesta be raped. Yes, little mistress, I'm asking."

"W-where would she s-sleep? On your m-mattress?"

No, because we're not trying to score reward-sex. "Look, if she's too filthy a commoner to join you in your bed, I'll sleep in one of the chairs and, yeah, she can use my mattress."

Louise's scowl deepened. "Make sure you bring up extra buckets tonight," she finally grumbled in acquiescence.

"Can do." Jason paused. "So how do we get her up to your room without anyone noticing?"

"You could tell her . . . no, if someone sees you with her they'll want to search my room."

"Yeah. Can't do anything to draw attention to ourselves . . . actually, I think I have an idea."

[Un-][Contact] he sent for the fifth time that evening, lurking in the bathhouse.

[Received] came Louise's reply.

The servants' bathhouse wasn't the best place to watch the roads, but it did have a good view of the maids' dormitories, and that's what he needed.

Be nice, of course, if Siesta would hurry up and make her move. The men's side reeked no matter the time of day.

But then a figure about the maid's size slipped out of one of the doors of the dorm.

[Contact][Possible] he sent. A patch of moonlight caught the figure's face as it scurried towards the north road. [Contact][Confirmed][Siesta]

[Received] came the reply. A few seconds later, [Courtyard][Clear][Come]

And indeed, the courtyard was devoid of possible witnesses as Jason slipped back to the tower and up the stairs to his little mistress's bedroom. If all continued to go well, she'd Levitate herself and Siesta up the outside and through the window without anyone noticing.

And indeed, both girls were there when he arrived, although the maid was looking rather nervous when he walked in.

"This was your idea," Louise immediately declared. "You explain it to her."

"Okay." He turned to Siesta. "First, just to get it out of the way: Do you wish to enter Motte's service?"

She shook her head.

"Didn't think so. But Louise says that Count Motte had more than one way he could catch you before you reached your village, so your plan to flee wouldn't have worked."

"Oh," she replied faintly, her eyes widening in sudden distress.

"So that's where we come in," he continued. "Student privacy warding should prevent the Headmaster's tracking spell, and we probably managed to evade notice, so as long as you stay here until the Count leaves, this could be your best chance to stay safe."

She brightened for a moment, but then looked uncertainly from him to his little mistress and back again, before blushing slightly. "But you . . . will we all be . . . sleeping together?"

Louise immediately glared a warning at him.

"No," he assured them both. "Siesta, you'll sleep on the bed, with Louise. That thing on the floor is my mattress, it's where I sleep."

"Oh."

He tried not to take it personally that she looked relieved by the assurance. "Anyway, meals are going to be interesting, since we don't want anyone knowing we've got an extra person, but we'll try to sneak supplies up here. Water, at least, won't be any trouble."

Siesta nodded quickly. "Um, I packed some travel rations, so I'll be fine for a while."

"Okay, good. Hopefully Motte'll be out of here by then. For now, it's late so we should probably wash up and try to get to sleep."

The process of washing up was straightforward, if awkward: Jason sat in a chair facing the wall while the two girls performed whatever late-night ablutions they preferred, and did his best to avoid thinking about what might be going on behind him.

Then it was his turn to wash down, and judging by her occasional giggle, Siesta may not have been as disciplined.

Although it's not like we're a feast for the eyes. Scandal's how the servants entertain themselves, so if she feels safe enough to giggle at the situation, that can only be a good thing.

"What are those?" the maid asked a little while later, when he pulled out his toothbrushes.

"Toothbrushes," he explained. "I only have the two, but if Louise will provide the hot water to rinse mine off when I'm done?"

His little mistress scowled, but agreed.

Shortly after that, there was one final snag.

"I don't have anything to wear to bed," Siesta admitted.

Jason lifted one eyebrow. "Tarbes is days away. How were you planning on sleeping?"

"I was just going to keep this on," she replied, tugging at her traveling outfit. "It wouldn't be as comfortable, but I didn't want to weigh myself down with a lot of clothing."

"Fair enough." He looked over to his little mistress. [HELP][INQUIRY]

"Fine," his little mistress grumbled. "You can use one of my chemises."

Although that had its own issues. As a late bloomer, Louise was still short and girlishly slender, only barely beginning to fill out. Siesta, by comparison, was four or five inches taller, proportionately broader, and . . . noticeably more generously proportioned. The borrowed chemise strained at her bosom, dipped in to clasp her waist tightly, flared out again as it hugged her hips, and no matter how she tugged it barely came down to her knees.

She could give Kirche serious competition at a swimsuit contest. Maybe not quite as blatantly voluptuous, but . . . we should stop staring now. "That'll do for tonight," he decided while Louise fumed. "Do you have bedclothes in your dorm?"

Siesta nodded.

"Alright, maybe we can sneak you something at some point tomorrow. For now, time to turn in."

A/N: Hitting a still target is one thing. Hitting a moving target, or when you yourself are moving unpredictably? Much harder.

Yeah, Motte was made up by the anime to show Siesta getting closer to Saito, since in the light novels she gets closer to him by feeding him when Louise won't. Easy to write, harder to show in an anime. In this fic, Motte will have a role beyond this arc.

Student rooms may all be warded for privacy, or it might just be VIP rooms. Heck, being important enough for something like diplomatic immunity goes a long way towards explaining why Kirche can get away with what she does.

New Terms: 'Allodial' isn't new, but it is somewhat obscure, especially in English. Essentially, it refers to resources (such as land) that you own yourself, without owing fealty to any higher noble for it. After William the Conqueror, well, conquered England, he laid royal claim to all the land, and so legally there weren't any allodial estates in England anymore. Still could be a thing on the Continent, though.

Magic Items: Staff of Destruction. A singular talisman of great destructive power, able to fell a dragon at considerable range. (Yes, it's what it was in canon. Fouquet has had precisely the same success at using it in canon as well.)