An American Geek in a Halkeginian Court Chapter 22: Wind of Fate II, a familiar of zero fanfic

Wind of Fate, Part II

"Plannin' for yer own estate, then? Or yer master's?" Annabelle asked the next morning, when Jason tracked her down.

"Wha-? Oh, no, no!" he hastily denied. "This is for one of her friends, trying to figure out a charity project for women who've fallen on hard times." Although, like the conscripts, if they have the option to leave the city, maybe find someplace where they won't be judged by past mistakes- "That said, if some of those skills are more suited to country or farm life than city life, that'd be okay."

"Aye, if they just happen t' be findin' themselves somewhere freshly assarted of orcs, aye?" The head laundress tapped her nose and winked.

"Uh-" Hell with it, let her think what she wants. "Sure, that's fine." Besides, since Louise is a younger child, she might need an orc-infested estate from Henrietta to have her own place one day. Couldn't hurt to know what'll be needed.

"Knew it!" Annabelle smirked. "But, familiar-man, 'tis not a matter of larnin' one task an' bein' done with it. Here at th' Academy, 'tis fine, with enough maids to go 'round. Mebbe 'n th' city, too, for all I reckon. But reestablishin' farms gone fallow, well, a man might work from dawn t' dark, but my mammy always said a woman's work is ne'er complete, and I haven't known her t' be wrong yet. A farmwife starts her day by . . ."

Jason looked at the mess of gun parts that lay scattered over the work table. "Okay, I guess that won't go together like that."

"Indeed," Mr. Colbert agreed with a hint of sarcasm. "Jason, I think I would like to work on one of my other projects at the moment. Why don't you take these up to your master's room and see if you can't figure out what went wrong?"

"Uh . . . yes, sir."

The parts weren't heavy, all in all, just intricate, so it was no problem to carry them up the stairs in a sack.

No, the problem was that Louise hadn't finished her afternoon's makeup assignment from Madame Chevreuse, and she was already using the table to study on.

"What are you doing up here?" She asked, a bit crossly. "I thought you were supposed to be putting together all the pieces of your new pistol design."

"We were," Jason agreed, pulling up a chair and sitting down next to her. "But the trigger stuck, and when I pulled it hard, trying to get it to work, the whole thing fell apart."

"So why aren't you fixing it?"

He smiled sheepishly. "That's my homework assignment for the afternoon. Figure out what went wrong while Mr. Colbert does something productive with his time."

"Oh." Louise took out her wand and Levitated her work over to the bed. "I'm tired of trying to figure out how to solve that scenario. Let's take a look at your pistol parts."

Jason blinked in surprise, and opened up the sack on the table. "Okay. When I saw you were still working I figured I'd need to wait until you were done."

"I might be done already, if we'd been in class and I could have asked her to clarify the problem." Louise scowled. "Instead of serving drinks to men who only wanted to get their hands on my bottom or inside my costume."

"We did find what her Highness needed, though."

"Eventually. It would have been over a lot faster if we'd have just looked at the tax collectors to begin with."

"Yeah, but we didn't know something was up-"

"Jason," Louise growled, "stop talking about that and show me how these pieces are supposed to go together."

"Right."

He kept the pieces inside the mouth of the sack – no need to scratch Louise's table by fiddling with steel bits directly on the surface – but it didn't take long to get the revolver parts assembled.

"Where's the barrel?" Louise asked. "Don't guns need a barrel?"

"Once we know what we're doing with the trigger, we'll add the barrel. Right now we just need to get this to work without falling apart."

"What is it supposed to do?"

"Okay, we start off with the hammer closed, like this. Pull it back halfway, and it unlocks the cylinder so you can load it." Jason swung out the cylinder, and showed her the six holes where the rounds would be inserted. "This is why it's known as a 'revolver', because the cylinder revolves every time you discharge, bringing the next round up and ready to shoot."

Louise stared at the demi-gun in his hands. "A pistoleer won't need to pull out another pistol, once he discharges the two he's carrying? Or look like a fool trying to reload before the closest enemy mage kills him?"

He gave her an odd look. "No. Is, uh, is that your parents' description?"

She nodded. "One of Mother's peeves is that many nobles don't practice with Shield until it can stop at least two bullets. And Father agrees with her! The year Eléonore summoned her familiar, when she returned home that summer they made her practice and practice until she knew Shield well enough to stop three bullets, and she never planned to be a mage-knight! They even made Cattleya learn Shield well enough to stop two bullets."

"So they're going to want you to learn as well? Good for them."

Louise hunched. "If I ever make it to Line."

"You'll get there. Probably sooner than anyone expects." Jason tried to pull her in for a quick hug, but she leaned away, and a few seconds later he let her go. "Anyway, to actually fire, you pull the hammer all the way back, so that when you pull the trigger, it releases the hammer, which snaps forward and releases some sparks from the firestone into this little tube, which hits the back of the round. If everything goes right."

He took a deep breath. "Except the hammer gets stuck when it's pulled back, and while I can ease it forward if I push hard enough, when I pull the trigger like this-"

The revolver came apart with a sudden TWANG!, and the pieces went all over the inside of the sack.

"A pistoleer would be even more embarrassed if that happened," Louise noted.

"Yeah. So now I've got to figure out why it's sticking, and my design notes aren't helping."

"Why not?"

"Ah-" Jason flushed, and handed Louise his notes. "See for yourself."

She looked down at the illustrations, then peered at the revolver pieces with a furrowed brow. "None of these look anything like what you drew."

"Yeah, that's 'cause I can't really draw. Shouldn't matter, I took a couple of semesters of drafting in high school, but," he coughed, "the class was all computer-based. We didn't get taught how to draft by hand."

"'Computer'?" Louise repeated. "Is that those clockwork minds of yours?"

"Uh-huh. We weren't supposed to be artists, we were supposed to be learning to design things, so they cut out the hand-drafting part a few years before I took the classes." He paused. "Class size was pretty big, too. That might have had something to do with it, not needing to store projects on paper."

"So you can't even see what these pieces are supposed to look like," she concluded in a slightly disgusted tone.

"Yeah. Mr. Colbert had about the same reaction. Twenty years of education and-" Jason broke off. "You know, it's even possible that he already knows the problem, and he's having me do this as a lesson on the importance of understanding the logic of what you're building."

"Well, if that's the case, I'm not putting up with a familiar who can't finish what he started. So put that back together, and tell me what each piece of the puzzle does while you do it."

He shrugged. "Alright. 'S as good an idea as any."

So he went through the process of assembling the demi-revolver, explaining how each part was supposed to work together, from the trigger mechanism to the-

"Son of a puppy's mother," Jason breathed, looking at two parts that were supposed to slide past each other. Instead they were catching, overlapping by not even a millimeter. "No wonder I couldn't find it when I was looking at each part. They're almost the right size."

Louise finally smiled. "So you can show Mr. Colbert how to fix it?"

"Hell, if I can find a grindstone I should be able to fix it myself. This is not something that needs magic to correct."

"That's good. So now, help me figure out how to solve this scenario-"

She broke off as there was a rapping on the window.

"'"Surely," said I,'" Jason quoted. "'"Surely that is
Something at the window lattice.
Let us see then what thereat is
And this mystery explore."'"

"Don't be silly," Louise chided, pulling out her wand. "It's no mystery! Princess Henrietta's still the only one who knows she can send me a bird like this."

"That was from a poem, actually," he said as his little mistress let the messenger bird inside and claimed the letter it carried.

"Well, this isn't a time for poems! It's been almost a week, and I've been anxious to find out what's happened!"

She opened the letter and began reading:

"'My Dear Friend Louise Françoise,

"'I hope things have been quiet for you and your familiar. There has been no hint of your involvement that I have heard, and by Brimir's grace we may well keep the whole adventure from both your parents' and Mother's attention.

"'It has not been quiet here. Arresting de Montferat caused quite the uproar, not least among those who only saw his pretense of piety at the cathedral. Unfortunately, I must count my Royal Mother among that number. She was even more upset than she had been about the carriage! Nonetheless, by the time that my doings came fully to light (save your involvement!), Agnes had already led three raids on Reconquista nests.

"'And that is greatly to the good of both my fortune and Tristain's. The Regency Council was preparing to release Turenne de Montferat and require me to apologize to him. In front of the full Court, even! But the Reconquista prisoners that were taken, and the evidence that was wrung from them, quickly swayed opinion in the other direction. Count Motte and his little toad of an assistant have also been invaluable, deciphering de Montferet's ledgers to produce a truly alarming tale of theft. Convincing the Regency Council that stealing from commoners is a problem might have been more difficult in happier times, but when it was revealed that Reconquista's programme for the tax collectors they were subverting was of more such theft, the Council was convinced. For now, at least.

"'There might have been more raids, but they were halted while Mother expressed her disapproval the second time. Fortunately, when the evidence from the prisoners came out, it was deemed wise to continue them under the direction of the Captain of the Guard, and Agnes was released from the detention she had been placed under. Unfortunately, the other nests were empty, showing signs of having been abandoned very quickly, and we must suppose that the other Reconquista agents had learned of the earlier raids, and made whatever escape they had previously prepared.

"'Subsequently I had to defend myself from the charge of hastiness, in not going directly to Captain Wardes with my evidence, so that he might have coordinated raids on all the nests. However, I pointed out that the loss of the first courier would have alarmed them, and that I did what I could with those I could count on to listen to me, rather than assume I was having some manner of princessly hysterical fit. I will not claim that all were pleased with my argument, but nonetheless my efforts proved fruitful, and the official efforts did not!

"'Speaking of the first Reconquista prisoner, it may interest you to know that it is now accepted that he was laid low by Brimir's intervention. He was carrying a nobilum of unknown ennobling, that ought to have protected him from any spell, no matter what you laid him low with. (We have found several such, and both I and Mother are now carrying one, along with Captain Wardes and many of the Regency Council. We don't know how many spells they will protect against before they expire, but once the secret of ennobling them is unraveled, I am certain all such questions will be answered.) That his warding nobilum failed precisely when you needed it to . . . I confess, I am rather inclined myself to see Brimir's hand at work.

"'The task of rooting out Reconquista will be slower from now on. As Agnes warned, they are now on their guard, and will take more stringent measures to keep hidden. But at least the Regency Council is now aware of the need, and I am not forced to desperate expedients. (Yes, you were a desperate expedient, for all that the result was a splendid one. Do not frown! As my mother relies on yours, so too can I rely on you.)'"

Louise set the letter down for a moment, scowling at it.

"I thought she told you not to frown," Jason said, trying not to grin and failing miserably.

"Yes, but-" She scowled even harder, before shaking her head and resuming.

"'I have also spoken with a Captain Braonáin. I do not think you have ever met him, although when you do, I am sure you will agree that he has the most charmingly provincial Albionian accent. His opinion, given in confidence, is that conscripts taken from the slums make poor soldiers, on the whole, for they are given neither to hard work, nor discipline, nor obedience to lawful superiors. Still, he did allow that they are an untapped resource, as the farmers of Tristain are not, and that their conscription would not hinder the harvests in the coming months.

"'Unfortunately, training them in civilian skills would have to wait, for slum-bred commoners are also scrawny and generally unfit in comparison with the county-bred folk that Captain Braonáin says are the ideal for conscription. A strengthening regimen would be required simply to ensure that they can wield spear and shield for the duration of a battle. And it may be expected that they will prove resistant to instruction, so that the skills of combat and formation will take more time to teach as well. If your familiar has any foreign knowledge that would prove helpful in this regard, I would be most pleased to receive it.'"

Louise looked up from the letter. "Well?"

Jason blinked. "Motivating soldiers. I dunno . . . no, actually, I might know, at that."

"Then how?"

"Okay, the first part is, you have to keep them away from women at all times during their normal training. This will make them want women more. Er, to lie with women, that is."

"Yes, I know how commoner men behave. As bad as the boys panting after Zerbst, or worse."

"Right. This means keeping them locked up, or at least mostly locked up, in their training camps. 'Cause they will try to sneak out and find the nearest whores."

Louise rolled her eyes, but didn't say anything.

"The next part is, the ones who perform well get passes to enjoy a day off during the weekend. The liberty passes need to be obtainable with effort, so that after a few weeks the conscripts are counting on their opportunity to get away from training and find women."

Jason smirked. "Then you have the sergeants start to hold entire platoons responsible for each others' performance. The platoon earns weekend liberty together, or it fails together. The natural leaders of each platoon will show themselves by their efforts to get the platoon in order."

Louise frowned. "You think it'll be as easy as that?"

"Easy?" He shook his head. "No, it won't be easy. And if Tristain's military is used to country-folk for its commoner conscripts . . . I may have to write down some descriptions of basic training, how to break down the conscript and rebuild him into a soldier. Just in case Henrietta needs to adjust how training is done."

"Why would she be doing that?"

"Well, it's gonna be her regiments, right? Raised on her new-found prestige? She's gonna need to be there from time to time, inspections and everything. Hmm. Better point out that promises to the conscripts is a bad idea until they've been through their first battle."

Louise frowned again. "I didn't realize her Highness would have to involve herself personally."

"Doubt it'd work, otherwise. Remember, we're talking about implementing radical ideas. If someone who believes in them isn't riding herd, people will just ignore the strange notions and do as they've always done. And that means throwing away the lives of the slum conscripts."

"Oh."

"But it ain't all bad. Get the trick with weekend liberty to work, and you can use it for those civilian skills as well, when there's time to train for them."

Louise nodded thoughtfully, then started reading again. "'The notion of training them in skills for maintaining barracks and field-camps may prove more fruitful, Captain Braonáin allowed. But again, convincing the conscripts to receive training may be the more difficult part.' Which you just covered, if your idea for motivating them works at all. 'He was amused by the prospect of distracting the more intelligent conscripts by training them to work with machina, and allowed that it might not be the worst program for keeping bored soldiers out of mischief. The possibility of discovering and training hedge mages shocked him, but he did also allow that if such minor talents are wide-spread, they could prove useful.

"'Does Jason know of a machina that might be devised here-and-now, that I might use as an example of useful machina, to quiet those who will inevitably claim that I am merely enamored of the toys of the Germanian Emperor?'"

Jason blinked. "I can think of some, sure. I'm . . . she wants a useful one now?"

"At least something she can talk about. Like the ice-cream machine Mr. Colbert put together for you."

"That was nice of him, to indulge me like that, but it's still a luxury item. To do something useful . . . I'd have to suggest a machine that does something commoners do, only better, to make sure I'm not trying to compete with mages."

"But don't you already have some ideas for that? Isn't that why you're working with Mr. Colbert?"

"Yeah, sort of. But we really need to roll them out at once, from the harvester to the sewing machine."

"Mm." Then Louise's eyes widened a bit. "Jason, if you can invent a machine that harvests, can you invent one that plants seeds as well?"

"Uh, yeah. Different machine, but I wouldn't be surprised if it'd be easier than harvesting, to be honest."

"That would be a good pair of machines to tell her Highness about! Planting and harvesting need commoners the most, so if you help Mr. Colbert invent them, we won't need as many commoners on each farm!"

Jason froze.

"I'll let her know when I write back! Here, the letter is almost done. 'I am sorry to say that Agnes was also correct about being reassigned, after Mother found out about me borrowing the flying carriage. I'll make sure to get her back, soon, but for now Captain Wardes has been charged with my safety, and he is much less tractable, so in retaliation I am not taking him into my confidence as Mother would say I ought to.

"'At least the Regency Council is now finally waking up and realizing that I am their princess, not their poppet.

"'I have written your parents on the subject of reviving the Undine Knights. I expect a swift reply, and I hope that I have laid out my reasons clearly enough that they will be persuaded to accept. If they reply in the affirmative, I shall begin the task of persuading Mother to agree.

"'All-in-all, I am most excited to see how things unfold, now that Tristain is finally beginning to take action to protect us all from Reconquista.

"'Yours faithfully,' etc. etc."

Louise looked up from the letter. "Is something wrong?"

Suddenly realizing that he hadn't moved at all since she'd spoken of needing fewer commoners, Jason shook himself. "Sorry. Just struck by a thought."

"Another one? Would her Highness want to hear it too?"

"I . . . Mr. Colbert worked out a process for better steel. He's pretty sure he can devise a machine that commoners can use to run the same process. Steel's much better for cannon than iron, and with this process it should be much cheaper than bronze, too. So steel cannons should be possible, soon. That might be better for the immediate future than some farming equipment."

"Then you think I should tell her that, instead of the farming machines?"

"Yeah." Jason nodded, then nodded again. "Yeah, that's probably best. She's stirring things up by focusing on the Reconquista threat, so she needs to be able to show how machines can help Tristain be ready to fight. I'll talk with Mr. Colbert about it tomorrow, and if he agrees we'll see about getting the steel machine made."

"Good." Louise paused. "Are your plans for that recovery program ready? We ought to send those to her as well, if they are."

"Uh, I suppose they're worth looking over. If she can slip them to Agnes, even better. See what I might be missing."

"Then we'll include those as well. In the meantime, now that I've helped you figure out what's wrong with your pistol, you can help me work out Madam Chevreuse's scenario!"

We won't need as many commoners, Jason thought, as he lay on his mattress that night, thoroughly unable to get to sleep. No, little mistress, we won't. Introduce harvesters, and it won't take long before someone wants mechanical planters, like Louise suggested. And motorized plows. Hell, those are probably already possible. Create a nobilum that revolves, attach it to an axle, you've got the start of a horseless carriage. Probably have to Empower it too often to be useful for everyday travel, but . . . for something that would only see intense use during a short time of year? Might be doable.

On the other hand, if we don't introduce the harvester, then we have hand-picked crops – cotton, flax, whatever – trying to feed industrial-scale clothing production. The countryside commoners would be reduced to chattel slavery within a generation.

So we're going to be on track to automating most of the labor needed for farming. Maybe not this year, maybe not this decade, but within a generation. So the displaced farmers flock to the cities. Do we try to set up factories to absorb the displaced labor? With nobles already looking down on commoners like they do?

He started to groan in frustration-

Then bit it off as Louise made a curious noise. He held his breath, waiting to hear how she was going to respond . . . but she only sighed, and her breathing stayed slow and regular.

Hell with it. Maybe a walk will settle our head enough to nod off.

The night breeze was pleasant outside, crisply cool and flavored with spring, and Jason wandered around until he found a spot where the grass was especially thick. There he sat down, leaning back to get a good view of the night sky.

The stars were . . . well, he already knew how bright they could get, away from the lights of the cities. Anyone who'd camped out in the country learned that, sooner or later. But it was still disconcerting to look up at a night sky that had none of the constellations he was used to.

"Which isn't the point, tonight," he muttered out loud. "If we're going to end up reducing the need for farmers, as long as the nobles own most of the arable land they're gonna have to head to the cities or starve.

"Hell, maybe we should do it now, free them up for conscription, give them a chance for skill training-"

And be indirectly responsible for getting a lot of them killed off. Just like the slum rats Henrietta's going to try to have turned into passable soldiers. But these aren't career criminals we're thinking about sending off to war-

Is that the excuse we're telling ourself? That people born into and stuck in a dog-eat-dog situation don't matter as much? Because we can talk about giving them a better chance all we like, a lot of them are going to die and that's already going to be on us-

"Dammit to hell!" he shouted, burying his head in his hands. Then, groaning: "Damn me to hell. If I haven't already-"

"Jason?" came Siesta's voice from not too far away. He looked up and turned his head to see the maid walking towards him, her white nightgown touched by the mingled red and blue-white light of the moons.

"What's up, Siesta?"

"I heard you shout," she replied. "What's wrong? What are you doing out here so?"

He looked back down into his hands. "Couldn't sleep. Came out to watch the stars." Then, shaking his head: "I'm not going to be good company tonight."

Siesta was silent for a moment. Then she finished walking over and sat down next to him, close but not quite touching. "Maybe you need some company anyway."

"I-"

"And don't tell me otherwise!" she interrupted tartly. "Besides, friends don't track owed favors, isn't that what you said when you did me a favor I can't ever pay back?"

"I still say I won't be good company. But if you insist . . ." Jason trailed off, shrugging. "What are you doing up so late, anyway?"

"I fell asleep while I was soaking, and it was already dark when I woke up." Siesta yawned. "The first couple of weeks after the students leave are always busy, cleaning up everything as thoroughly as possible, so I was extra tired."

"And you're staying out here to keep me company instead of going to bed?" He shook his head again. "You're a better friend than I deserve."

The moonlight was more than enough, with his night vision, to catch her smile.

But it was followed by an awkward silence. She seemed to be waiting for him to speak, but he really didn't want to repay her kindness by burdening her with the horror that he could see looming in the more likely futures.

So talk about her, idiot. When you're having a tête-à-tête you keep the focus on your date. Uh, partner! Uh! Conversational partner! "I think you mentioned that your grandfather said there should only be one moon in the sky? Did he also complain about the stars?"

Siesta nodded. "They aren't where they're supposed to be, according to him. For example, there's supposed to be one star that always points north, if you can find it. But I never could."

"No, you wouldn't be able to. You can't see that star from Halkagenia." Or rather, if Polaris is visible from here, it doesn't occupy the same spot in the sky as seen from Earth. "I guess Halkagenia doesn't have its own North Star, then?"

Siesta shook her head. "It must be nice, having a star you can always navigate by."

"For those who know how to look," Jason nodded yet again. "Not as many these days who learn, sadly."

"Oh." She paused. Then: "Do you miss home? Grandfather Takeo missed the food he used to eat, but no one could ever make his meals the right way, and he didn't know how to prepare them himself, so he had to get used to our style of eating." Then she giggled. "Except he always insisted on eating with two sticks held between his fingers. We all used to laugh about it while we were growing up."

Her giggles cut off, and Siesta's expression turned contrite. "But now you've given some more recipes to Chef Marteau, and you don't even get to eat them yourself! I'm-"

"It's fine," Jason interrupted, reaching up and patting her shoulder. The one next to him, not on the other side of her, because this wasn't a date and he wasn't doing the arm-around-the-girl gambit! "Men my age are supposed to go out and find our own place in the world. I'll admit that I didn't expect to come quite so far, and I didn't expect to be anyone's familiar, but I'm happy enough."

"You don't seem very happy tonight," she observed. "And Miss Vallière has seemed shorter-tempered, more like she was before she summoned you. Have you been fighting?"

"What?" He shook his head quickly. The recent up-and-down that Louise had been displaying wasn't fighting, not really. No matter how nervous it was making him about the choices she was going to have to make about their relationship, sooner or later. "No, this isn't anything to do with Louise, not directly. Just . . . no matter what I do, it seems like something awful will happen as a result."

"That's not true!" Seista objected. "You helped me, and nothing bad happened. You helped the Charming Faerie Inn, and nothing bad happened!"

"Well-" Jason started to interject.

"And you came back from that secret mission just fine, so nothing too bad happened with that, either!"

"We got lucky, yeah, but-"

"So you don't go around making bad things happen!" she concluded happily.

He pushed down a twinge of irritation. She didn't know the context, and how could he explain-? "The things I'm starting to work on with Mr. Colbert? they could be important, if war breaks out, but once some of them spread out of my control-"

Siesta burst into fresh giggles. "You really don't think like a commoner. Control isn't something we can expect to have, when the nobles are involved."

"Yeah, that's the-"

"Besides, if you're inventing things like that ice-cream machine, how bad could it be?"

The irritation surged, and he fought it down a second time. She doesn't know about the supertomato apocalypse. And it's not easy to explain without being able to point to history. "Trust me, Siesta, you don't want to know the answer to that question."

She laughed again. "Don't be silly! You're making machines to help people! What's the worst you could do?"

Jason gritted his teeth as his irritation and frustration at her not getting it rose up a third time, and this time he didn't hold it back.

"Fine!" he snapped, scowling at her. "The worst I can do? The very worst case is that I help develop something that ends in the destruction of Halkagenia and home. I'd be the first person in recorded history who could truly say, 'Now I am become Shiva, the destroyer of worlds'." Then he looked away, laughing bitterly. "Or I could figure out a way to merely wipe out Halkagenia. That'd be only one world, I'd have to join the piker's club instead."

"You're not going to destroy anything!" Siesta said, all trace of laughter wiped from her voice. Then, very quietly: "Are you?"

"I hope not." Jason stared straight ahead, into the darkness. "But magic is one thing, and the deep truths of nature that permit machines like my phone to function are another, and I can't say what'll happen when they're fully paired together, each illuminating yet deeper secrets of the other. It's hardly impossible that the union of magic and technology will lead to the destruction of entire worlds. Bathed in the raw flames of creation, their denizens flashing to the finest vapor before they have so much time to even whimper in fear. And those who cause it will watch, feeling nothing, convinced that theirs was the only logical choice in the matter. For they will be as gods."

He paused, then continued in a sing-song:

"'A hatch opened up and the harvesters said,
"We're sorry to learn that you soon will be dead.
But though you may find this slightly macabre,
We prefer your extinction to the loss of our job."'"

"Jason!" Siesta cried. "Stop it!"

He turned to look at her. Her eyes were wide, and she was leaning away from him, her expression terrified.

He winced, his sense of irritation swiftly replaced by guilt.

"I'm sorry," he apologized gently, shaking himself. "It's not certain. It may not even be likely: Protections can surely be devised as well. But I have to live with the fact that no matter what I do, whatever I introduce, there'll be people who use it to help themselves at the expense of others. I just have to hope that solving the problems I can think of, and that I think I know how to, doesn't result in even worse problems."

"But you can't truly destroy Halkagenia, can you?"

"Well, no. Not without finding a way back to my homeland. The tools I brought with me aren't nearly enough to risk that."

Her smile was shaky, but Siesta did smile as she righted herself, and then put a hand on his shoulder. "So solve the problems you can, and trust us to be able to handle the rest."

He sighed. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, but . . . I dunno. We're going to need a lot of commoners trained to build, maintain, and repair machines. If that doesn't happen, if machines are something that only a few are taught to handle . . ."

"What could happen then?"

"Machines . . . end up being better at growing food, if you do it right. You don't need nearly as many people on the farms. And here, let me rephrase that from a noble perspective: 'You don't need nearly as many commoners.'"

Siesta looked puzzled for a moment, but then her eyes widened. "Oh. You think the nobles would-"

"Some would. Some wouldn't. Back when the use of machines to make clothing was being developed, the man who pioneered the technology was careful to treat his laborers well, providing good pay, food, and shelter. But those who copied his machines didn't bother to treat their laborers well. And because their expenses were less, they did better for themselves."

Jason laughed again, just as bitterly. "The hell of it is, having machines do the work that they can do better than people does make things better for everyone else."

"Like clothing becoming more affordable?"

Jason nodded. "Yeah. Except there, if I introduce all the machines at once, I don't create a demand for unskilled commoner labor and then later destroy it. And because I'll be introducing them, I can influence how they're spread to try to minimize the prospects of taking unfair advantage of others.

"But when it comes to farming, there are already commoners working the fields in large numbers. So when the machines are able to do the work – and Mr. Colbert is a genius, he designed the ice-cream machine in one morning – the nobles who own the land will find it to their advantage to oust most of the commoners. People whose families have been working the land for more generations than anyone can remember."

"But it still makes things better for everyone else?"

"Yeah. That's always the justification. It helps more than it harms. A lot of the time it's even true. But the people who get pinched are often the ones who can least afford it. Especially when many new machines become available all at once."

"So what will you do about it?"

The look she was now giving him . . . what did we ever do to deserve her faith?

Oh, right. We saved her. And didn't leverage that to gratify ourself. "I don't know. It's already starting to get out of my control: Louise has some idea of what's immediately possible, and Princess Henrietta has a fainter idea, but even that's . . .

"The hell of it is, the only thing I can count on is that people will use machines for their own immediate benefit. Some may hold back from using them if it's at the expense of others, but that won't last more than a generation or two. So I have to figure out how to make sure that using machines works best when you have a mutually beneficial arrangement. And I haven't come up with a plan for how to do that."

He was working himself back up to full gloom when her arms went around him, and she pressed her side against his, laying her head on his shoulder.

"Siesta?"

"You'll figure it out," she replied. "You may not see it now, but you'll find the way to make machines so that it's best for people to work together. And even if some nobles do use machines to hurt commoners, you'll figure out how to make certain that they don't become the example that everyone follows."

Jason shook his head. "I hope your faith in me proves justified."

"It will be," Siesta assured him, sleepily, leaning on him a bit more and letting her arm slip down.

His arm went around her back to keep her from falling over, and by the time she felt stable she was breathing evenly, and even snoring the tiniest bit.

He let several minutes pass by, figuring she'd come out of her doze soon enough. Besides, it was hardly unpleasant to have her cuddling up against him. And he missed how Louise had been more and more ready to cling to him for comfort at the Charming Faerie Inn.

If we'd figured out some way to keep sharing a bed with Louise, we could have talked this out with her tonight. Maybe we should have woken her up for it anyway. For all that it's gratifying to hear that Siesta believes in us, our little mistress might have come up with some decent ideas. So we probably should figure out a way to bring it up with her.

Hell, maybe we should just join her under the covers tomorrow night, and say that we need some comfort while we talk.

And maybe, just maybe, that'll break our little mistress out of whatever it is that's causing her to bounce up and down on how she's treating our relationship.

And Jason hardly wanted to end this little interlude with the warmth of a woman comfortable enough around him to fall asleep by his side. But Siesta wasn't Louise, and he really wanted it to be his little mistress snuggling up to him in her sleep-

Hell with it. Louise is asleep, Siesta's asleep, and we ought to be asleep. Figuring everything out will have to wait for another day.

"Time for you to go to bed, sleepy girl," he said, poking her.

She blinked slowly in response. "Jason?" she mumbled, still sounding more than half asleep.

He lifted her slightly, as he shifted into a kneeling position. "Come on. Gotta stand up, gotta get to bed."

She muttered something indistinct, then closed her eyes and went limp.

Jason caught her before she fall down, and heaved her to her feet as he stood up with a grunt. And then had to keep supporting her weight, as her legs stayed limp, her body slumping against his.

"Come on," he urged, shaking her slightly. "You don't have to stay awake. Just long enough to get to bed."

"-tired," Siesta muttered in reply. "n't wanna. Warm."

"Fine. I give up," he sighed, shaking his head before ducking down to pick her up in a bridle carry. Dammit, if someone sees us . . . but pretty much everyone should be in bed by now, and the guards will be at the Academy, not out in the buildings where the servants live.

She mumbled something indistinct, then her head leaned against his chest, and she sighed in seeming contentment.

"Just keep sleeping," Jason murmured, suppressing a chuckle. "Hush little baby, don't say a word/Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird/If that mockingbird don't sing/Papa's gonna buy you a golden ring/And if that golden ring turns brass/Papa's gonna buy you a looking glass . . ."

He crooned his way through as many verses as he could remember, and some he made up on the spot, until he was at the door to the maid's dormitory.

You know, last time we were here they were all ready to welcome her back, and just dying to hear all the scandalous details. Maybe we should just wake Siesta up and let her get to bed on her own?

But then he looked at her face, sleeping peacefully against his chest, and Jason suppressed an impulse to curse. Instead he eased the door open, and-

"Was wonderin' where she'd got herself to," Annabelle said quietly, getting up from where she'd been sitting and apparently waiting. The head laundress's eyes narrowed as she gazed consideringly at him.

He felt his cheeks heat up. Dammit, we weren't doing anything!

"Thought she might still be lingerin' in the baths, but it seems not." Annabelle folded her arms as her look sharpened into something stern, if not quite a glare. "It's m'job to be knowin' where th' maids get off to, familiar-man. If'n ye've a tryst planned, I'll thank ye an' her not to be keepin' th' secret from me, in the future."

"It wasn't planned, and it wasn't a tryst," Jason replied, just as quietly.

"No? Ye bring her in all worn out an' asleep, an' ye say ye didn't have aught to do with it?" Now Annabelle was glaring. "Familiar-man, d'ye think I've not heard every lie there is, once a man's had his fun an' starts to worry about th' chance of a babe resulting?"

That felt entirely unfair. He'd been good, even when the girls had made him read that wretched-

"Aye, now there's the blush of a man who knows what he's been about." The head laundress nodded. "Familiar-man, 'tis no great shame as long as ye take responsibility-"

"Annabelle," Jason growled, "we were not," he paused his mind cast about for a suitable metaphor, "playing at barley-break! I couldn't sleep, I came down to try to clear my head, and she'd apparently dozed off while soaking. We ran into each other by accident, we spent some time talking, and then she dozed off again. That's all."

"Ye expect me to be believin' that?"

Jason gritted his teeth. "Okay, one, do we smell like we've been rolling around on the grass and all that? Two, I'm pretty sure Siesta's still a virgin, so presumably you could check her maidenhead. Although I'm not going to. And three, don't try to saddle me with a responsibility that isn't mine. I will use my little mistress to get me clear of anything that tries to do that."

Annabelle's glare increased for a moment. Then she shook her head. "I'll be talkin' with her when she's awake, an' if she says otherwise, familiar-man, then master or no I will see ye held responsible."

It was an effort not to grind his teeth together. "Fine. For now, let's just get her to bed."

"Aye."

The dorm wasn't pitch black, like it had been just before the surprise party had welcomed Siesta back, when she'd been hiding from Count Motte, so Jason was able to follow Annabelle to the room with Siesta's bunk without difficulty.

Then, before opening the door, she turned to Jason with another sharp look. "Will ye be stayin' to help her undress, then?"

His cheeks flushed yet again, but he rolled his eyes. "If she managed to fall asleep while we were talking, she's not going to want to wake to get dressed for bed. I'll just put her to bed in what she's wearing."

"Mm." Annabelle opened the door. "See to it, then, but be quiet. Others need to be getting' their rest as well."

Jason nodded, and slowly eased his way into the room, following her at a tiptoe as she made her way to an empty bunk. Fortunately, it was the bottom bunk of that particular stack.

"Here ye are, familiar-man," the head laundress whispered. "Set her down gently."

He carefully knelt down, then bent over, easing Siesta into the relatively small space that the bunk bed permitted. Which caused his head, as he bowed it to keep from bumping into the bunk directly above, to dip down into nuzzling range of her torso.

Cheeks blazing, he jerked his head back, and saw stars as he hit the bunk above.

Annabelle smirked as Jason retrieved his arms from underneath Siesta and started rubbing the back of his head. "Siesta!" she whispered. "Your lover is leaving. Don't you want a good night kiss?"

"n't have a lover-" the sleeping maid mumbled. Then she shifted slightly, and her breathing became regular again.

"Mm." Annabelle shot Jason a more neutral, considering look as she led him out of the dorm. "Maybe ye weren't after breakin' barley," she mused, closing the door. "But I'll talk with her all th' same. If she's finally havin' a beau, there's things she needs t' be reminded o'."

Jason suppressed a sigh, and made his escape as quickly as he could.

The hell of it is, he mused to himself a little later, back in his little mistress's room and lying on his air mattress, if Louise were about to get an estate, it'd make a lot of sense for her secretary or majordomo or whatever it is we look like to outsiders . . . anyway, it'd make sense for us to look for a wife among women who have housekeeping training. And it wouldn't be unreasonable to expect us to at least try to parlay Siesta's gratitude over the Motte incident into something more. So we can't justify being too annoyed with Annabelle for presuming.

But that doesn't mean she's right. Louise said it's going to be years until she marries, so we should have at least until she's engaged to win her heart.

He snorted. Given that everyone seems to be shipping us with either Siesta or Jessica, I suppose we'll know that we've failed with Louise when she starts shipping us with one of them. Or both, like she suggested back at the Inn.

Jason smirked. Yeah, when hell freezes over. Stay jealous, little mistress. Stay jealous.

The next morning, in his designated dining room just off of the kitchens, Jason was getting Louise seated when Siesta showed up with a well-laden tray. She set it down in the middle of the table, and then bounded around the table with a smile, bright eyes, a spring in her step, and then on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on the bottom of his cheek.

"What are you so happy about?" his little mistress demanded, suddenly glaring(with bloodshot eyes), as he froze, flushing.

"Jason was so sweet last night!" Siesta gushed in response. "And I'm sorry Annabelle jumped to conclusions, but the way she said it did sound like how some of the staff here carry on-"

Louise's glare intensified. "Just what did my familiar do last night, exactly?"

The maid stopped, eyes a bit wide. "Oh! It's not what it sounds like. We were so busy cleaning yesterday, that I dozed off in the bathhouse."

Jason winced as his little mistress whirled towards him in her seat. "You were in their bathhouse?!"

"No, no!" Siesta hastened to protest. "I'm sorry, I'm not explaining it well. I'd just gotten out, and I was going to go to bed, but then I heard Jason talking to himself."

"You heard him talking to himself from all the way down here." Now Louise's expression and voice were that of a judge listening to the suspect dig herself deeper.

And since she's a noble, that might not be an analogy.

"I couldn't sleep, so I went downstairs to take a walk and hopefully clear my head," he put in as he sat down.

Siesta quickly nodded. "He was so worried about the machines he's designing, and making sure that they're used for . . . what was that you said, Jason? 'Mutual benefit'?"

He nodded as well. "Yeah. Some of the earlier days of machines in my peoples' history? There are things I don't want on my conscience."

Some of Louise's suspicion seemed to fade. "You're a commoner, so you shouldn't have to worry about that," she uttered sympathetically, leaning over in her chair to give him a quick consoling hug. "But you do come up with useful ideas, even if it's not your station. And it's good that you're trying to come up with plans that will resist corruption."

Then she tugged on his sleeve and bared her teeth. "And nothing else happened, after that?"

"Ah-" he started, warily eyeing the rather short distance between her teeth and the skin of his arm.

"Oh, no!" Siesta quickly put in. "We were just sitting, and talking about how the stars are different where Jason's from, and . . . I must have dozed off, and then I woke in my bed, and I felt so refreshed!"

Louise blinked at that, and rubbed her eyes blearily.

Jason held his breath. If you have just convinced her that she needs to have a certain over-sized teddy bear back in her bed- "I helped her back to the dorms, where Annabelle was waiting, and she thought what anyone would think, but she said she was going to ask Siesta in the morning-"

He shut up as his little mistress turned suspicious eyes back on him-

"And then when I woke up, Annabelle wanted to know the same thing, but I told her you treated me like a lady," the maid confirmed. "Just like the last time, even if the other maids still don't believe it!"

"Like last time?" Louise repeated. Then she slumped down a bit, resting her head against her familiar's arm-

"And she said if I wanted to watch the stars with Jason, I needed to let her know first, so she wouldn't worry."

His little mistress stiffened, her grip on his arm tightening. "You were 'watching the stars'?"

Jason sighed. "Yeah, I know, that sounds like a euphemism in my language as well. But the stars are different around here, compared to back home. Siesta's grandfather apparently used to complain that the north star, Polaris, isn't in the skies of Halkagenia."

"He called it 'Hokkyokusei'," Siesta nodded. "But that means 'north star', too."

Louise scowled at them both, before starting to mutter: "You shouldn't-"

Then she broke off, grimacing. "If you can't get to sleep, I can start keeping a sleeping draught in my room, so you don't have to go wandering around outside."

"I slept well enough after clearing my head," Jason replied mildly. Then, smiling very slightly: "Heck, maybe the three of us should go out tonight and watch the stars together, just before bed."

Louise froze, not even blinking. "You . . . both of us?" she finally asked in an incredulous voice.

"You haven't been sleeping well," he replied in a very reasonable tone. "And if a short sojourn in the soft grass and the night air let Siesta get such a good night's rest-"

The maid smiled brilliantly. "I could bring some books you haven't read before, if Miss Vallière is willing to provide light to read by."

For her part, Miss Vallière stiffened. Again. "Books?!"

"Some of the Pierre de Vos series," the maid quickly clarified.

But Louise's baleful look did not abate. "And I suppose that if I say no, you'll just sneak out again with Jason regardless." Then she sighed, relaxing her hold on his arm slightly. "I suppose I must join you, if only to ensure my familiar stays out of trouble."

He chuckled. "Trouble? Siesta, would you get me in trouble?"

She paused for a moment, looking unsure. Then she giggled. "I'm sure I won't, with Miss Vallière around!"

"Heh, fair enough. I guess we'll be by once the sun goes down and the stars come out."

Louise still didn't look entirely happy, but nodded. "Now let's cease wasting time! We all have things to be doing after breakfast!"

She did not, however, let go of Jason's arm, even after Siesta set their portions in front of them.

He looked down at his little mistress. Despite her words about hurrying, she still wasn't letting go, and her expression was rather possessive.

She might not be planning on giving our arm back while Siesta's still in the room. Which means-

"Need me to feed you again, little mistress?" Jason asked in a carefully mild tone.

"Mm," was the only response. (From Louise. Siesta was clearly fighting back a giggle.)

"Alright, but no biting this time."

She looked up at him with a challenging glint in her eyes, and bared her teeth in a rather sweet smile. If it weren't for the aforementioned teeth, that is.

Dammit.

"It's later in the morning than I expected," Mr. Colbert noted when Jason finally showed up at the teacher's lab suite.

He shrugged, setting down the bag of revolver components and flexing his hand. (He could still feel his little mistress's nibbles from breakfast. She'd been . . . enthusiastic.) "That's 'cause it took me a while to find someone with a grindstone. Didn't realize how much of the metalworking the professors handle at the Academy."

"Using magic is faster, and as I've mentioned, with the proper spells the metals may be tempered better than any commoner smith can manage." Mr. Colbert smiled slightly. "Where did you find one?"

"Next to the stables. For when there's farrier work to be done, I gathered."

"And what were the results of your labor?"

Jason held up the demi-revolver, cocked the hammer, and pulled the trigger: The hammer flew forward and the demi-revolver stayed in one piece.

"Well done. You seem to have found and corrected the flaw."

"Yeah."

"And what have you learned, from this experience?" Mr. Colbert asked.

"This was a test, wasn't it?" Jason groaned, sagging.

The professor smiled again.

"Alright, alright. I learned . . . I need to make sure each piece fits together, as the gun's being built?"

"Indeed. The weakness of an elegant gun, with many parts to it, is that they must all work together for the gun to function. If even one part does not fit properly, then the gun will not work. It may misfire, or jam, or even come entirely apart as you witnessed yesterday."

"Right, right. And of course, the parts of one gun aren't going to be any good if you try to fit them to another gun."

Mr. Colbert raised one eyebrow. "That should go without saying. Is it otherwise, where you're from?"

Jason nodded. "One thing we came up with was the precision to make guns perfectly alike, so that parts can be mixed and matched between different guns of the same model. Makes fixing a gun easier, anyway, since you can just swap out a damaged part for a spare."

This time both of the teacher's eyebrows shot up. "And how is this precision obtained?"

"Uh, machines. I mean, people guide them, but they make the parts to the specifications of a program, and . . . it's not something we're going to be able to invent right away. But it's something to think about. And when there's time, I'll show you how to create logic circuits, which are the very beginning of computers. That's something I do know how to do. Er, mostly."

"I should be interested to see that," Mr. Colbert allowed. "And I have not had the opportunity to see what your 'phone' can do, as you promised to demonstrate."

Jason blinked. "You know, I'd forgotten about that. You won't be able to read the instructions, you know. But I can show you the games on it, anyway."

"I'll look forward to it. But for now, I have some gunpowder and some larded paper on a table to your left. Prepare some ammunition, and let us see how the revolver handles it."

Although, once he was at the table, he had to offer a chagrined smile to the professor. "I, uh, don't actually know how to make rounds of ammunition."

"Then this will be a good experiment, will it not?"

"Yeah." He looked back down at the table. "No bullets, just blank rounds?"

"Gunpowder only, yes. We're interested in seeing how the revolver reacts to firing. We'll add bullets to the ammunition after we've fitted the revolver with a barrel."

"Okay. Makes sense."

"Besides, as we discussed, larded paper is a guess on your part. So let us avoid bullets flying around my suite from the inevitable misfires."

"Right." At that, Jason shut up and got to work.

If the process of making bullets with waxed paper had ever been on one of the documentaries he'd seen, he couldn't recall it. And so he fumbled around all morning, trying to figure out how to actually make the damned things. But by lunchtime, at least, he'd managed to make a few that might actually fit into the revolver.

"I think we're gonna need specialized tools for paper cartridges," he noted after calling Mr. Colbert over from a separate project to see what he'd managed. "Probably something with a wooden rod, so that we're not risking sparks around gunpowder."

The professor nodded thoughtfully. "That may be a good idea. In the meantime, load your weapon and let us see how well the revolver handles these rounds."

The smallest one fit well enough. But when Jason lifted the demi-revolver up, aiming it towards a blank wall, cocked the hammer, and pulled the trigger, nothing happened.

"Uh, maybe the sparks didn't burn through the-"

BANG!

He flinched and stared at the gun in his hands, as a cloud of smoke rose to the ceiling.

"I rather suspect they hadn't, up until the moment of discharge," Mr. Colbert calmly agreed. "Unfortunately, that's much too long a delay. Any mage or pistoleer will have far more time than they need to cast a spell or discharge their own weapon."

Jason nodded. "That's why we need to figure out blasting caps. Or come up with a back for the paper cartridge that burns through in an instant."

"Mm. Wait here." The older man stepped deeper into the maze of projects scattered about, but soon returned with another demi-revolver, and offered it to Jason. "Load one of your rounds into this, and see how it performs."

Jason nodded again. As before, he loaded it, pointed it at a blank wall, cocked the hammer, pulled the trigger-

BANG!

He stared at the incomplete gun in his hand, then turned his gaze to Mr. Colbert. "You know you just provided proof that you knew exactly what was wrong with the first revolver, and not only how to fix it so that it wouldn't fall apart, but actually work as intended."

"Is that a surprise? I did tell you that I'd studied the manufacture of guns, and had made my own attempts at an elegant new design."

Jason uttered a rather frustrated noise.

Which got an amused chuckle in response from the other man. "Now, I suggest that you break this one down, and see if you can tell me why it discharged immediately, when the original wouldn't."

"Yes, sir." We may be smart enough that in a crowd of hundreds there's a decent chance we're the smartest. But Mr. Colbert's probably got just as good a chance at being the smartest in a crowd of thousands. Gonna have to get used to that.

The professor watched closely as Jason sat down and started to disassemble the revolver. "Are you trying to see if I'll get it right away?" he asked, not raising his head.

"I am interesting in see if you spot the difference quickly."

He nodded, and pulled out the closed tube that contained the firestone on one end. "This is a bit longer, and the mouth of the tube looks very thin. Sharp, even. I'm guessing it punctures the back of the cartridge, so that the sparks from the firestone can reach the gunpowder immediately." Then he frowned. "Didn't we discuss the possibility, right after Louise and I returned?"

"We did. Well done: You worked it out as quickly as I expected."

Okay, that felt just a bit patronizing.

But Jason limited himself to rolling his eyes. "Sir, it had to be something like that. I was using a cartridge I'd just made, after all. Anything that didn't get sparks through the paper wouldn't have worked."

The professor nodded. "True enough. But in my experience, when people don't know how something was done, their first thought is to assume the action of some spell or dweomer."

"Wouldn't make a lot of sense to have revolvers that only a mage can use properly, Mr. Colbert. Y'all already have magic, after all."

"Mm. Perhaps. Still, I must offer congratulations. I wasn't entirely persuaded that your ideas would work when you first told me of them, but this has been an excellent start. I shall refine the fit of the revolving section to the rest of the revolver in the next several days, and then we shall see about a true test-firing. For now, let us focus on devising the best way to make paper cartridges. And then we shall see how much luck we can have with the loading mechanisms for the rifle and the shotgun."

"He didn't send you back with an assignment this time, did he?" Louise asked sharply, when Jason returned that afternoon.

"No. Why, what's up?"

"I want you to help me finish this afternoon's problem as quickly as possible."

"Oh, okay."

"That way we'll be have to have an early supper, and then I'll go down to the bathhouse. You stay here and wash up, and make sure you're done quickly. But be thorough!"

"Uh . . . Louise, what's going on?"

She looked at him like he'd lost his head. "We're meeting Siesta to watch the stars tonight, remember?"

"Yes, but we saw her just a few hours ago at luncheon. We'll see her again at supper."

"Jason!" she hissed. "You will not shame me by presenting anything less than a clean appearance! Do you understand?!"

He threw up his hands in quick surrender. "Alright, little mistress! I'll do as you say."

She responded by giving him a scathing look. "You'd better. I'll be inspecting you when I come back up, and if you aren't clean enough I'll Scour you until you are."

Jason laughed nervously. "I thought you hadn't quite drilled the explosions out of those yet."

"Then it's good that I still have some balm for bruises, isn't it?!"

At that point he clued in, and had to fight the urge to smack himself. Dunno what she'd call it, but this is a lot like pre-date jitters. Stop arguing with her, you idiot, and help her make sure the preparations go well.

"Good enough," Louise allowed grudgingly.

Since he was currently bent over to the point where she could grab his head and inspect behind the ears, turning him this way and that, Jason thought it best not to reply.

She abruptly let him go, and stalked over to her vanity mirror, where a pale, creamy dress awaited. It wasn't altogether dissimilar from her chemises, although it was somewhat more elaborate than the nightgowns.

"So, I was gonna ask," he started. "Before you grabbed me for inspection, that is. Is this the gown you were gonna be wearing to that one ball?"

"No, of course not," Louise didn't quite snap. "I wouldn't risk getting grass stains on that. This is just an evening gown."

Then she sighed. "I ought to have some fire colors added to it, now that I know my affinity, but I haven't had the time, not with spending a month in Bruxelles."

"Which is an excellent reason to not have had the time," Jason pointed out. "Although . . . I remember Jessica talking about colors for you, but you had green hair at that point. Assuming fire colors are red, yellow, and orange, would any of those go well with pink hair?"

Louise frowned, thinking. "My hair is almost the same shade as Mother's, and she likes to wear purple, to match Father. But she also wears some white, to announce her Wind affinity. I might try white or pale cream for my blouse, and then red for my skirt."

Then she scowled. "If I were going back home, I'd just ask Mother and Cattleya. They'd know what goes well with pink." Her look turned a bit wistful. "And I'm sure Cattleya would love helping me try on different colors."

"Sorry."

"No, no, it's not your fault," his little mistress grumbled. "And if I was going home, it'd be because I was a failure once again. I get to stay at the Academy and work to catch up with the rest of Second Form because the Summoning Rite worked." This, however, was followed by a sigh. "But I do miss Cattleya."

Louise followed her pronouncement by seizing the evening gown, holding it up against her, and looking at it in the mirror. "This shade goes well with my hair, at least." Another scowl: "But it's late enough in the day that my underthings aren't comfortable anymore."

Jason blinked. "Then you don't have to wear them, if you don't want to."

She whirled around and shot him a suspicious look.

A few seconds too late, he realized how that sounded, and flushed. "I mean, your undergown and your hosiery, those are both comfortable enough, right?"

His little mistress nodded, still looking suspicious.

"So wear those, but without the culottes or brassiere. That should guard your modesty well enough, right?"

"Perhaps," she admitted slowly.

Here, how's this for sneaky? "Or would you like to wear one of my shirts underneath your chemise instead?"

Her eyes widened, and Louise looked surprisingly taken with the thought, but then she shook her head. "No, then we'd have to bring one for Siesta to wear as well, if she wanted it."

We would? To . . . wait, this is some sort of girl thing, isn't it. Better not to ask.

His little mistress nodded decisively. "I'll just do like you said, and leave my brassiere and culottes behind. Now," she looked up at him with narrowed eyes, "you haven't applied a scent yet. What scent do you want to use?"

Jason blinked. "Scent? I, uh, I don't usually use perfumes."

Her eyes narrowed further.

Apparently that had been the wrong answer. "Uh, maybe . . . do you have anything in mint?"

"Attar of mint? Like your fire-wash? I don't have that, no."

"Ah. Should I just use my mouth wash as a cologne?"

"That's-" Louise stopped and quickly turned back around, but in the vanity mirror he could see her flushing a bit. "Your breath smells like mint after you use it, so it'd smell like you. I suppose that will do."

"Alright."

For herself, his little mistress chose something that smelled of citrus. By the time she was changed, the sun was setting, and by her orders Jason was in his only white t-shirt and his nicest jeans.

He'd kept his back to her while she dressed, at her request, but finally he felt her hand grab his arm, and he took that as permission turn towards her and see how she looked.

There wasn't anything particularly blatant about her preparations. The only thing he could tell for certain was that she'd applied something to her eyes so that they didn't look tired. Nonetheless Louise looked, for the lack of a better word, nice, as she gazed up at him hopefully. (And perhaps a bit uncertainly.)

"Not bad, little mistress." He smiled and leaned forward to give her a quick hug. "Not bad at all."

"Let go of me, before you rumple this dress!" But that was definitely a smile on her face as they left the bedroom.

In no time at all they were Levitating hand-in-hand through the air, outside the Academy walls towards the servant bathhouses, where Siesta had said she'd be waiting.

"So, is this what happens before you go to a ball?" Jason asked. "Making sure everything is perfect?"

"If I was going to a ball," Louise retorted, "I'd have spent all afternoon preparing for it, and there'd have been at least two maids helping me get ready. This is just-" She broke off, frowning.

"Spending some time with a couple of friends?"

"Friends? My familiar and a commoner? I don't-" Then she broke off again, frowning harder.

"Come on, is it truly so hard to accept that we're your friends, even if we're not nobles?"

She looked away. "I was supposed to make friends with the other students, not with commoners."

"So? Would it mean nothing to you to turn around, take us back to the tower, and cancel tonight?"

Louise didn't reply, but they were about to land beside the servants' bathhouses where Siesta was supposed to be waiting, so Jason didn't ask again.

The maid was not waiting at the entrance for them. But then another maid stuck her head out the door, and her eyes lit up. "Siesta's beau is here!" she turned her head and yelled back inside. "With his noble!"

There was a chorus of giggles inside, and then someone snapped their fingers. Lights came on, revealing Siesta waiting.

Jason had been expecting her to be in something a chemise, but no, the staff had apparently come up with an evening gown that was only a little plainer than Louise's. Her hair had been brushed until it fell around her shoulder like a gleaming midnight silk waterfall, her face shone (had to be understated cosmetics again, even if he could no more tell what they'd done than he'd been able to with his little mistress's face) and from the interior of the bathhouse wafted a faint smell of roses.

Oh, and she was surrounded by a gaggle of giggling maids, who raised a cheer and chivied her towards her . . . dates.

"Here she is!" one of the maids cried gaily, giving Siesta one final push forward. "Ready to find out how soft a noble's bed-"

"Jason, take her hand now!" Louise snarled.

He did so, and his little mistress immediately grabbed his other hand again and cast Levitate, quickly raising them out of hearing range of the catcalls rising from the other maids.

"Where should we go?" she asked, sounding a bit strained. "Tell me quickly, it's harder to include someone not holding my hand."

"Other side of the Academy," Jason suggested. "So they don't have an easy time finding us for some more teasing."

Louise nodded, and grunted, and they picked up a burst of speed long enough to clear the Academy walls. Then she set the three of them down and swayed.

Jason caught her before her knees could buckle, scooping her up in his arms. "Are you okay?" Beside him, Siesta looked just as concerned.

"I couldn't have done that with a fourth person," his little mistress admitted, breathing deeply. "I should have had Siesta hold on to my arm, or something. That would have been easier, but-"

"I'm sorry," the maid apologized. "I haven't stepped out with anyone, and they're convinced that's what we're doing."

He blinked. "Even with Louise along?"

"You know what kind of books the maids like to read," Louise grumbled. "Here, let me down. We should find a hillock before the sky fades to night."

The stars were just coming out as they settled on a spot and sat down on soft, thick grass.

"What do we do now?" Siesta asked, sounding a bit uncertain. "I truly haven't stepped out with anyone before."

"My people have legends of various constellations, although we've already noted that the stars are different here," Jason responded. "Maybe you two could tell me some of the legends of Halkagenia's stars?"

Louise looked up. Then she looked cross. "Our necks will get sore if we spend too much time looking up, and I didn't bring a salve with me."

"That's fine." He waved his hand at the greenery they were sitting on. "The grass is thick and soft here, and we haven't been interrupted by any bugs, so-"

He leaned back and lay down, with his arms stretched out to either side. "This will be much more comfortable than putting cricks in our necks, that's for sure."

Louise and Siesta both turned to look at him with some incredulity.

"Y-you want us to l-lie down with y-you-" his little mistress began.

"Your choice," Jason interrupted. Then he grinned cheekily. "But I'm pretty sure you're each supposed to be chaperoning me with the other, so no worries."

The girls blinked, and stared wordlessly at each other for a long moment.

Then Siesta giggled, and lay down on his right side, scooting up next to him and laying her head on his shoulder.

Louise yanked out her wand again. "S-siesta, y-you-"

"I'm not worried, Miss Vallière," the maid interrupted, giggling again. "Jason's right, I can count on you to protect me if he has a sudden fit of uncontrollable lust."

That brought a very thoughtful look to the noblewoman's face.

"And he's right about the grass, too, it's thick enough that it's almost as soft as your bed."

Louise scowled. But after a long moment of fuming she put her wand away and lay down on Jason's left side, then carefully laid her head on his shoulder.

They lay like that in silence as the sky dimmed completely to night, and the stars came out.

"This is nice," Louise finally admitted, scooting close enough so that he could feel her pressed up against him, from her head all the way down to her foot. "It's been a long time since I've looked up at the stars."

"I thought nobles needed to pay attention to where the stars are," Seista replied, her breath tickling just a bit as she spoke up.

"For some things," Louise agreed. "But nothing that affects what I'm learning right now. And if it did, I'd probably use a calendar, or even have an astrolab ennobled if I wanted to be very precise. That way I wouldn't have to worry about the weather interfering when I needed to calculate the positions of the stars at a critical time."

"So do y'all use the stars for anything else?" Jason asked. "You don't have a north star, but that's not the only thing stars are used for. Aside from magic, of course."

"I think the priests use the stars to tell when we should add an extra day to Advent," his little mistress replied. "And maybe ships use them for navigation, I don't know."

"There's also legends about the constellations, like you said you have," Siesta offered. She raised her arm and pointed towards the horizon. "Do you see those three bright stars, all in a line? There are two more that you can't see, because they aren't up yet, but that's the First Wand."

Louise raised her head to look, then made an irritated noise. "Yes, it is," she muttered, before dropping her head back down on Jason's shoulder.

"Is there a problem with it?" he asked.

"Not at all!" Siesta assured him. "The very first wand was made by Brimir, when he chose who would be the first nobles and taught them magic. The legend says that nobles and commoners lived in harmony, in beautiful cities of silver and crystal that reached into the very sky, and nobody wanted for anything."

Louise made another irritated noise, and he could feel her hunching up, so he stroked her hair as best he could with his left hand. "What's wrong?"

"I never liked this story," she grumbled. "They were privileged to receive instruction directly from Brimir, and even if the commoners did become greedy, that was no reason for what followed."

"The commoners didn't become greedy!" Siesta protested. "The nobles forced them to serve, even though there was no want for anything!"

"You-" Louise started.

"Wait!" Jason interrupted, before she could get worked up over it. "It doesn't matter who caused it. What ended it?"

"The commoners were required to serve, after they . . . well, you just said you didn't want to hear it. But it was for their own good, just like today!"

Jason bit his tongue on his immediate reply. By the sudden huff of breath to his right, Siesta was doing much the same.

"The cities weren't so beautiful, after that," the maid continued after a moment. "But life was still a thing of wonder. Until one day, the Lord of Fire and the Lord of Water began quarreling over the love of Saint Lyzodael. She was a commoner, but so beloved of Brimir that the very rocks, waves, and the skies themselves all hastened to obey her every wish."

"She obviously wasn't a commoner," Louise broke in, "but the elements delighted in serving her, so she never needed a wand."

"Well, commoner or not," Siesta continued in a slightly tart tone, "the Lords of the elements fought over her, and in their fury the great cities that all had lived in fell, and so great was the fall that they shattered into dust, and couldn't be rebuilt without the four Lords of the elements working together. The people had nowhere to live, and no food to eat, save what they could hunt, and they began to starve.

"But the Lords could not trust each other, and could not make peace, and they fought as the nobles and the commoners around them died."

Louise was cringing against him again, burying her face against his chest, but she didn't say anything more to deny or correct the story Siesta was telling. He shifted his left arm to wrap around her and hold her to him, and she relaxed slightly.

"So how did it all end?" Jason asked.

"Saint Lyzodael had fled, for she couldn't bear to see others fighting over her. But when she found that the people were starving, she asked the wild, untamed earth to be fruitful. And the land brought forth grains, and fruits, and berries, and all those who had come to the Saint for succor were fed. But there were many more who suffered, so she led them to seek Brimir's oldest and holiest temple, the one building that had not fallen when the Lords went to war against each other.

"But when they arrived they found that the Lords were already fighting over the temple, for within was the First Wand, and he who possessed it could accomplish all things, even to the overthrowing of the other Lords of the elements.

"She cried for them to stop, but when they heard her plea, they believed that she was there to give herself to the victor, and began fighting all the harder. And so great was their fury that the temple of Brimir, the first and oldest, and now the very last, was laid low, and became as the fallen cities, dust that could not be restored.

"And upon seeing this, the heart of Saint Lyzodael was truly rent, and she wept, and called to the First Wand. And as the elements had always hastened to obey her, so to did the wand hasten to her hands, despite all the efforts of the Lords to seize it.

"And the Lords were astounded, but quickly called their enticements to Saint Lyzodael, of the marvels that they would work together, when she gave herself one of them, elevating him to primacy over the others.

"But the Saint had not forgotten the teachings of Brimir, that the elements were to work together for the benefit of all, and she commanded that the elements no longer serve the Lords. And because she held the First Wand, no wand would obey them ever again.

"And then she lifted the First Wand to the heavens, and cried to the Void above for Brimir to come back to the people, and show them mercy."

Siesta paused, and took a deep breath. "And because Saint Lyzodael was beloved above all others, Brimir set aside his Ascension, and returned to the people for a season. He taught them how to till the earth, and raise crops, that they might not perish in winter. He showed them how to tame animals, that they might carry burdens that no man could hope to. He taught them how to cut stone and hew wood, that they might craft shelters to ward away the rain and snow.

"And the people begged Brimir to restore the great cities that they had known all their lives, but Brimir refused. 'I gave you all things, that you might not know want, but you did not cherish what you were given, and cast them away instead,' Brimir told them. 'Now you must labor for what you possess, that you might understand their value.'

"To the nobles, Brimir said, 'You have bound the commoners to your service. Therefore I bind you to care for them, even to the very extinguishing of your magic.'"

"So as long as nobles are given magic," Louise broke in, raising her head briefly, "we're commanded by Brimir to care for the commoners."

Siesta nodded, then continued. "Then, when Brimir had finished teaching the people what they needed to know to survive, the Lords of the elements gathered to plead for mercy. They had learned the lesson of their folly, they said, and begged to have their magic restored, that they might once again lead both noble and commoner.

"But Brimir refused, telling them that their war had proven their lack of worthiness. So Brimir chose new Lords from among their kin, and charged them to avoid the folly of the old Lords, lest they pay the same price.

"And finally, Brimir came to Saint Lyzodael. And she offered up her very life in contrition, for her temerity in calling him away from his glory. But Brimir lifted her up instead, and took her straightaway to the heavens, where she placed the First Wand among the stars, so that no Lord would be tempted to fight over it or her ever again."

Apparently finished, Siesta stopped talking, and let her head rest on his shoulder.

Jason stared up at the sky for a long moment, then turned to Louise. "Is that how the legend goes among the nobles, too?"

"Yes," she mumbled, then yawned. "The First Wand will remain until a mage comes who's as righteous as Saint Lyzodael, and then Brimir will cause the wand to descend from the heavens into the hands of the new Saint. And if the Lords of the Elements are wise enough to be led in righteousness, then the lost glory of Halkagenia will at last be restored, for the Saint will have the power to accomplish all things."

"I'm guessing that's not happening any time soon," he said. "The Lords of the elements . . . that's the same as the Blessed Realms, right? Water, Air, etc.?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Okay." That sounded more scriptural than legendary. Wonder how much of it's true? Like how it's turned out that the Bible's historical references are a lot more accurate than Enlightenment skeptics ever cared to admit?

Louise yawned again, breaking into his train of thought. "Brimir, I didn't know I was this tired. Siesta, did you bring those Pierre de Vos books?"

"Yes, miss Vallière," Seista replied, pulling a book out from her nightgown. "Do you want Jason to read one before you fall asleep?"

"Yes," Louise mumbled. "Let me cast Light, so-"

"That may not be necessary," Jason said, reclaiming his right arm so that he could take the book, open it up, and angle it to catch the moonlight. "Yeah, this is bright enough for me to read. Just relax and listen to the story."

"'lright."

"'The spilt blood was thick, and made the deck slippery as it poured from the scuppers into the ocean below. Pierre prodded the Romalian captain with the tip of his sword-wand. "What did you think to buy, through this futile resistance?" he asked . . .'"

By the rhythm of her breathing, his little mistress had dropped into a dose by the time Jason was barely a quarter of the way through the story. He moved his left hand to try to nudge her awake, but then she shifted, and sighed so contentedly that he didn't have the heart to disturb her.

She was fast asleep and snoring lightly by the time he finished.

"She hasn't been sleeping well, but I didn't think Louise'd fall asleep so quickly," he admitted, and handed the book back to Siesta. "I should probably get her to bed, but that can wait, if you want to stay out here and watch the stars for a little longer."

She smiled, but shook her head. "This has been nice," she said regretfully, "but our chaperone has fallen asleep, and that could lead to trouble if anyone finds out. And it is night, so it wouldn't harm me to go to bed a little early."

"Alright. Here, can I have a bit of room to maneuver?"

She nodded and stood up, which allowed Jason to roll over and get to his knees without waking Louise. Then he scooped his little mistress up in his arms, staggered to his feet, and offered Siesta a crooked smile. "Well, since she's asleep, I guess I'll walk you back to the dorms."

Siesta laughed, and linked her arm through his. "Lead on, brave hero," she said in a melodramatic tone, "and deliver thy fair maiden to safety."

He chuckled in reply. "Just one fair maiden? Which one of you am I not bringing to safety?"

That got a snort. "You'll be guarding Miss Vallière all night, but leaving me to the ravening gossips in my dormitory."

"Ah. Fair enough."

The walk wasn't terribly long – he jogged farther every day – and once they were on the paths just outside the Academy walls the footing became very even, with no danger of concealed animals.

There was no ambush as they approached the cluster of buildings outside the Academy walls, no sign of anyone waiting for them as they walked to the dorms. "Think we avoided the other maids?" Jason asked, at they reached the door.

"No," Siesta shook her head. "They're just waiting inside, to gossip about how the evening went."

"I see." He hesitated. She is a friend. "If you want, you can come with me, and sleep next to Louise tonight."

A very thoughtful look crossed the maid's face, but finally she shook her head. "No, that would just make the gossip worse. And I'd have to answer to Annabelle for it." She reached out and gave him a quick hug, pressing Louise between the two of them for a moment and smiling up at him. "But thank you for the offer. There's less for us to do for the rest of the summer, even with the maids who have gone home, so I'll have free time if you want to do something like this again."

Jason smiled back. "I think I might." He had a sudden impulse to lean down and kiss her cheek . . . but Louise was in the way, so it'd be awkward, and besides-

"Good night," Siesta said, smiling again, then turning away and going inside. And a few moments after the door closed, there came the faint but distinct sound of women's voices from within. She hadn't been wrong about the ambush.

He looked at the door for a long moment, then sighed and turned around, heading towards the gate of the Academy proper.

Maybe we should have kissed her, even if none of us were calling this a date out loud. But it felt horribly disloyal to even think it. Things had been awkward with Louise since returning to the Academy, but that didn't prove anything. Expectations had been different at the Inn, and they hadn't had to worry about propriety nearly as much.

He glanced down at his little mistress, still fast asleep, a look of contentment on her face as her head nestled against his chest.

"What do you want of me?" Jason whispered to her, as he passed the gates and entered the first courtyard. "What can you want of me? What will you want of me, when the hand is called and the cards are laid on the table? Because I am not a noble, and we're no closer to finding any more auxilia I might have."

He fell quiet until he arrived at the tower where they stayed. "I love you," he whispered as he made his way to the stairs. "As any young man loves the girl he seeks to woo and marry. And if we were back in the States? Anyone who saw how you act around me half the time would figure we were a couple."

Another sigh as he began the climb up the steps. "But we're not in Texas, are we? I'm your familiar, which makes me a favored pet. Or even a tool! Is that all you see me as?" He shook his head. "Or is it just all you'll allow yourself to see me as?"

Jason fell quiet again until he finished climbing the stairs, and made their way into Louise's bedroom.

"And if I ask that while you're awake," he whispered, very quietly as he laid her down on her bed, "propriety would require you to agree that I'm nothing more than a familiar to you. That I have your affection, but not your love. That there is nothing I may hope to aspire to."

Then he tried to straighten up. Tried. His little mistress had one hand firmly clasped to his shirt, and wasn't letting go.

So he wiggled out of the shirt, and changed into his nightclothes, and was about to settle down on his mattress-

"Jason?"

His name, barely more than whispered, was followed by a soft sigh.

And almost before she finished saying his name he was back up and leaning over the bed again. "Louise?"

She didn't respond. A slight smile had appeared on her face, as she clutched his shirt to her, but her breathing evened out again, and still she didn't respond.

That shirt could cause some awkward questions in the morning. Better to retrieve it now.

Of course, with her tight grip on his shirt, he needed both hands to slowly tease it away from her. Which meant letting his torso rest directly on the bed, kneeling on the floor next to it-

And thus, when he finally got his shirt free, and her hand began feeling around for it, Louise was able to seize his nightshirt before Jason managed to stand up.

He couldn't help but chuckle as he let his head slump back down to the bed. "See what I mean, little mistress?" he whispered. "If anyone saw this-"

"Jason," she sighed again in her sleep, rolling over to face him. Then her lips parted slightly as her other hand came over and seized its own share of his nightshirt.

Okay, this is getting ridiculous. Time to wake you up.

But as he opened his mouth, he hesitated. She hasn't been sleeping well. Do we really want to interrupt what could be the first full night's sleep she's had since coming back from Bruxelles?

And really, we already put in a good-faith effort.

It was still self-indulgent. He couldn't deny it. But it seemed like maybe it was also Louise-indulgent, even if she had exiled him back to the inflatable mattress.

So he rolled onto the bed, facing his little mistress (the geometry of her handfuls of his nightshirt making any other position awkward) . . . and his eyes were drawn once more to her lips. Still parted ever so slightly.

Now, that would be nothing but self-indulgence. Not to mention a disaster if she wakes up, you idiot.

Except that the last few times we've kissed her, it hasn't been a disaster. It was only during the Kirche incident . . . and then Louise's idea of 'punishment'!

Thus emboldened, he slowly wormed one arm under her head, until he was cradling her with his hand against her back. Then he free hand went to the back of her neck, pulling her head forward ever-so-slightly as his own head bent down-

Her eyes didn't pop open as their lips met, but it seemed like she was leaning forward a little, kissing him back. And then one of her hands let go of his nightshirt, snaked around to the back of his neck, and now she was definitely kissing him back. Almost like Jessica had . . . and when he brushed his tongue against her lips, her breath seemed to catch, and then she was – almost shyly! – tasting his lips in return! And then . . .

But her eyes never opened, and when it was over Louise settled her face and sighed into the hollow of his neck, her breath tickled just a little bit.

He held her close, waiting for some further reaction, some hint that she'd truly woken. But his little mistress seemed perfectly content where she was, and eventually he nodded off.

A/N: The legend I had Siesta recount was entirely made up on my part, so you won't find it anywhere. Nonetheless, it's based on historical events that took place a long time ago, but only in the history of this fic. I'm pretty sure that my idea of what happened in the thousand years following Brimir's life is quite different than what Noboru would have come up with, if he'd been pressed for details.

I will say that if you know the canon setting, I've given enough information about 'Saint Lyzodael' that you might be able to guess what she actually was.