An American Geek in a Halkeginian Court

by Inner Legions

An American commits cultural appropriation against a hapless Japanese youth. Typical, just typical. WARNING: CONTAINS RAW, GRAPHIC KIPLING. May only be suitable for mature readers.

34. Developments I

Developments, Part I

There was a sudden surge of awareness, and Louise found herself awake.

Blinking blearily, she sat up to find Princess Henrietta standing at the bed, wand out. She blinked again. It felt like she hadn't had nearly enough sleep after last night, but if the princess's wand was out, had she used Awaken? Instead of the other methods that she found so diverting?

"I know it's early," Henrietta said in a surprisingly subdued voice, "but I thought you might wish to bathe before breakfast."

Brimir, yes! After reentering Bruxelles, they'd only taken the time to leave instructions for Agnes before hurrying back to the Palace and heading to bed. There'd been no chance to wash up, and the prospect of a private bath before having to face anyone else almost made up for not being able to sleep in.

So Louise took only the time to gather up the morning dress and the culottes that she'd planned to wear that morning before following her oldest friend once again to the princess's private bathing room. And the warm water almost lulled her into a doze, but if she did that then a wave of watery mischief was sure to rouse her.

Except that Princess Henrietta didn't raise any such wave, and when Louise realized what wasn't happening she took a good look at her friend for the first time that morning.

Who was busy washing her own body, yes, and it wouldn't do any good to look down and scowl at the disappointing comparison – Brimir have mercy and provide Cattleya's growth spurt and not Eléonore's, when it finally happened! – but the princess kept shooting little glances across and . . . Void Above, was that trepidation in her gaze?!

"What's wrong?" Louise finally asked.

Henrietta gave her a final look, then took a deep breath and cast Discreet Room. "I've never heard you scream like that," she replied quietly.

And she wouldn't have, no. As hair-raising as her princessly mischief had been sometimes, it had never caused that kind of frustrated rage. Not even when they'd been caught and punished.

No, Louise had only screamed like that after dealing with Eléonore, and had only made the mistake of doing it in her sister's presence the first time, instead of waiting until she was alone.

And whining about it only made it worse – but this was her friend, not her terror of an oldest sister, and maybe-

"Wales was being awful to Jason," she pointed out, "and you weren't helping!"

Henrietta grimaced. "Your familiar . . . if I hadn't urged him to speak his mind, I would have to label him insolent myself. That was shockingly blunt of him."

Louise scowled back. "That's just how he speaks. Like a parvenu who hasn't learned courtly manners yet." Then she smiled sheepishly. "Perhaps I should have taken the time to instruct him, but I've been trying to catch up with everything I was supposed to have learned during First Form."

"One difference between Jason and a parvenu like Count Motte is that the Count has cleared his own estate," the princess pointed out. "He kills orcs, and he leads men to victory against orcs. Anyone would allow that he's entitled to boast."

"Jason grappled that draugr three times!"

"But it's not something we can speak of in public," Princess Henrietta replied gently. "Yes, he's earned the right to be knighted as a Chevalier, but I need to be able to justify it. And it seems his initial introduction to Prince Wales was not so felicitous as his introduction to me."

"No, it wasn't so bad," Louise corrected. "I think Wales was amused by him. But it all went wrong when Jason argued that we should destroy the letter rather than risk it being stolen from you by Reconquista's spies. That angered the prince." Although he'd seen the sense of it in the end. Had something else happened between the two?

Henrietta frowned. "I wasn't happy to learn of its destruction either, although after hearing about the brigands seeking you out I must concede that your familiar was right to worry." Then she brightened up. "And at least Wales remembered everything I wanted from him!"

Louise held back a groan, and pulled wet hair away from her face to give the princess a fulminating look.

Said princess continued quickly. "And whoever you pick to marry Jason should be grateful as well, since he's aware of a groom's duty to please his bride! Looking at his face, she won't be expecting that!"

Which was worth a scowl all on its own. Her familiar wasn't . . . true, he wasn't handsome. And for all that he washed regularly and used his array of soaps, his experience with the cosmetic arts was clearly lacking, or else he would have known how to compliment her efforts that one evening she'd spent with him and his maid. But despite his face seeming so dull, she'd soon learned to spot the twinkle in his eyes when his sense of humor was awake, and that made him much more pleasant to look at.

His improved condition since arriving certainly didn't hurt either, but the thought some tart of a commoner enticing him to . . . no! Besides, this was clearly a ploy to distract attention from Prince Wales!

"You are planning on visiting the Academy to meet him again, aren't you?!" Louise demanded, directing her scowl towards Henrietta.

Who offered an innocent look back. "Well, I could hardly come out to visit Jason! Not after Agnes warned me away from him."

Her Highness's Protestant agent?! What- "What does Agnes want with Jason?!"

The princess laughed. "She did offer to train him, remember? She says there's nothing more than that, but I wonder if she might not change her mind . . ."

Except that this was nothing more than another distraction! "And how would Agnes react to you visiting Prince Wales?"

Henrietta hunched slightly. A telling hit! "At least Wales is of the appropriate station for me. He's even superior to Prince Atma in that regard!"

Louise resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Superior or not, you're bethrothed to Prince Atma, and you said you weren't going to change that!"

A slight wince escaped the princess. "Yes, but . . . you said my cousin was being awful, and you're right that Jason was not meriting of any scorn after such bravery, but-"

She shook her head sadly. "Prince Atma is always awful. Even to his favored concubines, from what Agnes uncovered."

Hearing that made Louise want to wince, but she had to be strong and not give in. "You still made a treaty of betrothal with him. Unless you're planning to break it so that you can marry Wales after all-"

Henrietta hung her head, hiding her eyes behind her plum tresses. "Brimir, I wish I could!" she replied, her voice low yet intense. "Truly, if it were possible . . . but now that Reconquista has taken Albion and must next look our way, it's more impossible than ever!"

"Then you should avoid your cousin, and not sneak to the Academy to visit him! I know it's hard," and Jason was right, it would be even harder for them now that they'd so happily lain together, or at least Mother had warned of that particular consequence for such foolishness, alongside the others, "but Headmaster Osmond's counsel to him to wait until you were bearing an heir was the course of wisdom. If you're caught now-"

"I won't be caught!" the princess replied vehemently, her eyes still hidden.

"Sometimes you are!" Louise countered. "And this is your biggest secret ever! If anyone catches a hint of it and comes looking-!"

Princess Henrietta finally looked up, with pleading eyes. "I can't help it!" she exclaimed. "What if you had to marry someone awful, like . . . like Count Motte or Turenne de Montferat?"

"I, I wouldn't-" But it wasn't easy to continue. Marriage between nobles couldn't take place without consent, but a mage declared inexprimé might find herself with few options indeed, and needing to accept any offer, no matter how repugnant. Not that Mother or Father would ever cast out any of their daughters: Cattleya would have been shuffled off to a convent to face a quiet death in whatever comfort could be found in prayer, were that the case! But if Jason hadn't discerned a path to magic that finally worked-

"No, you're lucky in your parents, that way," Henrietta agreed. "But if all went wrong, and you did have to . . . would you truly be able to refuse him?"

Louise blushed, giving her friend a mortified look. "He- I- he wouldn't-!" The princess couldn't have seen her indulging her . . . indulging her familiar's desire to hold her and kiss her, in their mutual relief at surviving. She'd put a stop to it at the first hint of rustling bushes Levitated aside by the returning royals, after all. And if she'd clung to her pillow yet again after going to bed, she hadn't uttered a word about a fluttery little wish springing up that they'd had a little more time alone together in that clearing as she'd drifted off to sleep. But somehow her childhood friend had known-!

"Maybe he wouldn't, but if he was there and willing – nay, eager! - how could you say no to Captain Wardes?"

There was a distant rushing sound, and for a moment she felt dizzy. Princess Henrietta hadn't been talking about-?

"Aha!" Henrietta cried triumphantly. "You would be tempted, wouldn't you?"

The recent memory of the warmth of Jason's skin, her face buried in his bare chest, hit Louise hard enough that she swayed. "N-no!" she protested, and for once it was pure embarrassment tangling her tongue, and not fury at all. "J-Jean-Jacques would never lower himself like that!" Although her familiar had almost seemed to approve of the affair between the two royals, so would he . . . no!

"Perhaps not. The good Captain is the soul of honor and propriety, after all." Then the princess suddenly stepped forward and embraced her friend. "But we've never been entirely proper," she murmured huskily. "And I cannot regret giving myself to the man that I would have married, if the fates had not been so cruel."

Louise sighed and nodded as she returned the hug. But she felt a certain reluctance to continue on the topic and face more teasing about J-

About Jean-Jacques!

"Did Agnes say anything about the dragon hides?" she asked, hoping her friend would permit the conversation to be diverted.

"There was a report waiting for me when I woke up," Henrietta allowed. "And you needn't worry. Apparently it could cause prices to drop sharply if all the harvested parts are sold immediately, so Agnes will offer them a little at a time. Which means that there will be a surplus of the hide for some time to come, and if I choose to send some to you once it is properly cured, that shall be entirely my concern."

"Oh. That's wonderful!" And enough to perhaps make her a bit envious. She had a stipend from her parents, of course, but rarely used it. Any purchases she made would ultimately be reported to them, so going to Menenville on a weekend risked being chided by her family for frivolity.

Except that she still had the bulk of the funds left over from the secret mission to Bruxelles, along with the tips that she'd made! She'd become so used to her self-enforced austerity that she hadn't once thought of using them after returning to the Academy!

"Louise?" the princess asked. "Is something wrong? You stiffened, and-"

"No, no!" She pulled back slightly so that she could smile at her Highness. "I hadn't thought of it, but I have quite a bit of écu remaining from living at the Charming Faerie Inn. It's – it's nice to have funds that we needn't account to our parents for, isn't it?"

Henrietta smiled back. "That it is! I've told Agnes to use some of it as she sees fit, but I shall have to give thought to how I might use the rest. Perhaps-"

She was cut off by a small chime. "And there is the warning for breakfast. Captain Wardes will be joining us again, I fear."

Louise nodded, her heart picking up slightly, her stomach suddenly filled with butterflies. But surely Jean-Jacques wouldn't be stern with her again, so there was no need to feel apprehensive!

---

"Little rose, are you well?" her fiancé inquired solicitously, frowning. "You seem . . . withdrawn."

She started to reply, after taking care to allow no hint of irritation at the pet name to color her response. But then a yawn forced its way out of her, and she was left speechless, flushing at her inability to hide her lack of sleep.

"I'm sure she had trouble sleeping, knowing the dire straits that the Tudors were in," Henrietta interjected. "They could be fighting Reconquista even as we speak!"

"Perhaps," Jean-Jacques murmured, his eyes narrowed and intent as his gaze swept over the both of them. His regard felt almost predatory, and Louise had to suppress an impulse to look away . . . but he merely looked down at his food and began eating.

Then she felt a wave of energy, and looked over to see that her Highness had her wand pointed at her below the table. The barest wink passed between them.

"With the sulfur they secured, surely they can hold out a bit longer!" Louise declared before busying herself with her own meal. Which took but one hand on her wand, so her other was free to make a sign that they'd worked out as children long ago.

It meant, "Does nanny know?" Or more broadly, "Have we been found out?" They'd had to come up with it, after their minders had employed the trick of getting them to confess by feigning that the other had already confessed to whatever mischief they'd been up to.

Henrietta replied with the sign that meant, more or less, "They have their suspicions, but I've kept quiet and so should you!"

Which meant that she could expect a genteel interrogation over breakfast, so Louise stiffened her resolve and began to prepare vague responses that she might need to offer to her fiancé.

And a tiny part of her couldn't help but grumble that she needn't have concealed anything from Jason, were her familiar the one with suspicions. Yes, it would have been awkward at first, but then he'd have started thinking of ways to help Henrietta and Wales in their situation. Even if his ideas proved to be painful ones, since her Highness was betrothed to the Imperial Heir, and the situation was one that absolutely could not come to light.

It was a shame that the princess felt that she couldn't speak frankly with anyone on the Regency Council. Their very refusal to treat her as someone who was starting to mature was only driving her to act on her own. And now some of her decisions would be taken as proof of immaturity if they came to light, but who could she have turned to for the guidance of the hard-won wisdom of life's experience? Even in the smaller details – such as the error that had Agnes's strength out of proportion to the capacity of her body – her Highness could surely have avoided trouble if she'd had an older mage to talk to, who wouldn't then report her to her royal mother.

Except! "You said you'd sent a letter to Mother," she began, and watched Henrietta's eyes widen slightly. "Has she been able to offer insight into your studies?"

The princess blinked, and Louise could only hope that she'd received the hint.

"The Duchess Vallière is a Wind mage," Jean-Jacques observed, a bit sharply. "How would she be able to offer instruction?"

"I have no end of spells to practice, here at the palace," Henrietta replied, "but the question of which to study, and their utility that might not be readily apparent – or even their drawbacks! – are best discerned through experience. And my royal Mother has so little time to spare these days, but she has always relied on the Duchess. Shall I not seek to benefit from her as well? Especially when the quiet life of running the Vallière domains permits her that much more time to spare?"

Louise strangled a giggle that tried to escape. Her parents had servants who could handle the details of administering the Vallière lands, but that did not mean they lay back and took their ease. But at least the princess did seem to have caught her suggestion.

Jean-Jacques grunted, and she braced herself for the commencement of his interrogation-

But while the Captain of the Guard held them under penetrating regard as they ate, he said nothing more on the subject.

---

When they finally finished, Princess Henrietta stood and smiled sadly. "I confess, last night I wrestled with my own fears for Albion's situation. I was to take lessons this morning, but I think I shall nap instead until luncheon. The tutors could be at your disposal, if you wish-?"

Louise shook her head as she fought the urge to yawn. The spell that the princess had used on her to buoy up her energy seemed to be fading quickly. "No, thank you. I think I shall seek a nap as well."

Jean-Jacques followed as Henrietta walked with her to her guest room, but didn't accompany them inside. Which allowed the princess to cast Discreet Room once more.

"I'm almost certain that he knows of our absence, but he hasn't said anything," the princess said as Louise changed back into her chemise. "Which is just as well. I've already healed myself, but still . . . and now he seems determined to follow me everywhere!"

"If he suspects that you went out without any protection, I'm not surprised!" she retorted. "Keeping you safe is his job." And she ought to be on her fiancé's side, at least a little bit.

"I preferred how Agnes approached the task," Henrietta grumbled. "Captain Wardes takes his orders from Her Majesty and Cardinal Mazarin, not me."

"But you said the Regency Council is starting to respect you more-"

"Yes, but what does respect mean?" the princess demanded, jabbing at the air with her wand. "Less than I hoped it would, I can tell you that. I fear your familiar was correct, they do expect me to give up my ruling authority to 'those who know better'." She gritted her teeth. "Sometimes I almost hope Atma Tharoor does bring an army and carry me off to that gilded cage he keeps his concubines in, simply to spite them all!"

Louise gasped. "You don't mean that!"

"No, I don't. But it would be something to see the shock on their faces, as all their designs became as naught." Henrietta took a deep breath and smiled determinedly. "I've had another letter from your parents, clarifying some of the details of the revived Undine Knights. They offered some very sound suggestions . . . and were you serious when you suggested asking your mother for advice?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if she and Father know of the spells you used to make Agnes stronger," Louise pointed out. "And if they do, they probably know how they were supposed to be applied, so that her muscles don't outstrip her bones and all."

"I shall bring it up with her then," Princess Henrietta declared regally. Then a gleeful smile broke the royal facade. "And the Undine Knights shall be organized soon. In a few weeks, the courtiers and cadets will be sworn in and shipped off, and your mother already knows to search them for the cosmetics and other contraband I'm certain they'll think they've a right to."

"Until they meet my parents' discipline." It was worth a giggle. "I should almost feel sorry for them."

"Only because you haven't had to deal with them, much." Then the princess's eye acquired the thoughtful gleam that those who knew her well soon learned to be wary of. "Nor have you had the chance to spend much time with Captain Wardes, your recent trip notwithstanding. I should arrange for the two of you to spend time together before you return to the Academy, so that you can continue to renew your acquaintance."

And if he weren't being so difficult, if he'd remained as gallant and charming as he'd been when setting out to La Rochelle . . . "I'm not certain now is the best time," Louise demurred. "Not while he's upset with us both." Besides, the suggestion had been otherwise quite reasonable. Which only meant there was a hidden motive in the offer, one that she wasn't supposed to spot.

"Oh, but every woman needs to learn how to manage her husband, when he's in some silly mood over nothing important!" Henrietta said earnestly. "Now would be the perfect time for you to start!"

But how was Jean-Jacques supposed to be managed? The very notion was worth a flat, disbelieving look in reply.

"What? You think I don't have your best interests at heart?"

Which hadn't been at all what Louise was thinking of, but it was enough of a clue to let her guess her friend's motive. "I think," she said slowly, "that if Jean-Jacques is busy attending to me, then he isn't scrutinizing your every move."

"That would be a benefit, wouldn't it?" Henrietta smiled impishly. "If you could distract him enough, he might even help me get Agnes back, in order to spend more time with you. It would be good for both of us!"

And normally she would be ready to help, but . . . "No, not right now," she said, shaking her head. "Let him calm down, first, so that we may renew our acquaintance under less-strained circumstances."

"I don't know if he ever calms down," her Highness replied, pouting. "But I'll let you off today, if you don't feel up to spending time with a handsome man who wants nothing more than to pay court to you." She smirked. "You know that he asked to accompany you to Albion, don't you?"

Louise shook her head again. "No, I hadn't known that." Had that been Jean-Jacques's idea of courtship? Yes, it had started wonderfully, seemingly out of a child's tale, but every since they boarded the Eagle she'd found him must less enchanting, and their interactions since returning to Bruxelles had been far less pleasant, as she'd already complained to her familiar. But she didn't want to go into that, so: "I'll think about it," she promised, then yawned theatrically. "But I truly do need that nap now."

"Very well," the princess sighed. "I'll devise another way to get Agnes back."

"And be careful," she urged. "We can't afford to be caught, not this time! Not with so much depending on you."

Henrietta grimaced wryly, but nodded before putting a determined smile on her face and exiting gracefully.

Leaving Louise to flop down onto the bed and reach for . . . but then she drew her hands away from the pillow she'd been snuggling with.

As handsome as Jean-Jacques was, tall and lean and graceful in the deadly sense of one who knows the swordwand, as dashing as he was in his fashionable clothes, as happy as she was to see that even in the palace he didn't wear the cosmetics in the modern Gallian style, that seemed to paint an obscene leer on every man's face . . . it was mortifying to admit it, but right now she couldn't see herself hugging him, or burying her face into his chest for comfort. She just felt . . . uneasy at the thought. In an entirely different way from how she'd felt when Jason had first embraced her, with none of the scary-adult thrill that she'd come to enjoy.

And the comparison made her flush, because if her familiar asked her to press herself against him, or even made the shocking assumption that he could without asking (as he had before!), she would not demur in indulging him. Not after his bravery last night.

Nor would she feel uneasy, pressed against his bare chest. It had been nice, last night. And when he'd kissed her it had been . . . nice. Tingly, and thrilling like his hugs, but his hugs weren't scary anymore, and this hadn't been either. More like the beginning of that kiss with Jason that she'd dreamed of, before their mouths opened and-

And if their Highnesses hadn't returned so soon maybe she would have dared to attempt the open-mouth kiss. Just a little, to see if it might truly be as she'd dreamed.

Except that she'd promised herself that she wouldn't risk shame by playing at la danse d'amour with her familiar anymore. But when her lips had accidentally brushed his, she'd been caught off guard by the strength of the thrill that had shot through her, and even before his hands had captured her face in their gentle caress she'd been hoping that he would take the mistake for intent and-

And then, even knowing that it could only cause trouble later, she hadn't cared. Her familiar was safe, and if he needed to be rewarded for his bravery, then she would care for him like a good master ought, Hel take it!

Louise sighed, and pulled the pillow to her. She was going to need to train Jason in court etiquette. His bluntness and his sincere concern for her – he never pretended she didn't have problems, he comforted her until she was ready to face them and then he helped her defeat them – were wonderful but his openness would see him destroyed at Court.

And the Germanian Imperial Court was known to be even more ruthless. Being able to politely lie with a straight face was often the only way to avoid making enemies of the mighty and the influential. Yes, Princess Henrietta had chosen to permit his casual manner and his Protestant-like accusations, but it had been a close thing, and the princess had already prepared herself somewhat by her association with Agnes. Outside of eccentric mages like Mr. Colbert, no one else would be nearly so tolerant.

Even through Henrietta was right, and it was refreshing to have someone who cared so little for rank that he'd befriend both a princess and a maid (and somehow value their friendship equally!), it couldn't continue. Jason had even offended Prince Wales in some way, and surely it wasn't anything he'd meant to do. There would have to be instruction in deportment, and soon.

Besides, they wouldn't have to keep it up in private. She wouldn't want him to, now that she'd seen his look of wonder and delight turned her way-

Louise blanched. The way he'd looked at her, just before kissing her in the clearing, that thrilled her so, and made her giddy and foolish in relief? Suddenly she remembered where she'd seen it.

It had been at the Charming Faerie Inn, back when Jessica had cheated, cornering him while wearing that forsaken Bustier. The memory of the look of purest longing that he'd kept shooting the scheming and conniving commoner still made her grit her teeth and glare. That look had been like the stories of falling in love at first sight, which Mother had made sure that she knew were nothing more than silly fantasies for little girls.

But she'd known Jason all spring, and so when he'd given her so similar a look it was hardly his first sight. And she'd been too content in his embrace to want to turn him away.

Louise needed to face the facts: She was in danger of developing an infatuation for her familiar. Just like the most depraved villains haunting the books Siesta and the other maids liked to read.

Of course, he was a man, not a beast, but that wasn't supposed to matter. Half the time, the wicked plans of such wretched villains involved some absurd scheme to change the familiar to human form – or, once or twice, to adopt the form of the familiar instead – but such schemes never worked out.

Although, it suddenly occurred to her, none of them had ever involved Headmaster Osmond's Mirror of Truth, that he liked to bring out for masquerades.

(She certainly wasn't looking forward to seeing the reactions of the First Form students at their first Academy masquerade, when the Headmaster demonstrated just how capable the Mirror was. And the thought of the Headmaster actually seducing one of the attendees, and then waking up together the next morning, was vile and disgusting she most certainly should not share the notion with Henrietta for the two to giggle over like naughty children. Nor was she smirking now. At all. No, her lips weren't twitching in the slightest, thank you very much.)

. . .

(It also didn't make her heart race to think of adopting Cattleya's form at the next masquerade and then retiring early to her room, where she might surprise Jason with an impressive bosom of her own. Not one bit.)

And, Brimir, if she was in danger of developing an infatuation, it was all too possible that her familiar had already developed such inappropriate desires for her in return, and had only been holding back because he knew how unacceptable it was.

That night that he'd helped rub the salve into her legs, when he asked if she wanted to raise her skirt again for him, to let him rub the salve in, would he have-?

She wasn't entirely certain, but she did know that she'd had a sudden impulse to raise it to her waist, and close her eyes again, and then let him rub salve wherever he pleased.

Which had been such a dangerous thought that in the following days she'd tried to figure out how to reestablish the boundaries that were supposed to exist between nobles and commoners, without having to confront him outright. Because every time she got angry with him, she seemed to end up in his arms (even, ultimately, when Nicole had performed that treacherous sneaking vile-!), and that's what she needed to avoid, if their passions were turning awry.

Even still, it had hurt to walk away from the chance to have a turn at whatever game Siesta had been so enjoying, as the maid sat next to Jason. But it had seemed to do the job of letting Jason know that there was a boundary, because afterward he hadn't been encouraging her to be as close to him-

Louise blinked furiously as a tear escaped one eye. She wasn't going to cry herself to sleep over whether or not her familiar harbored vile lusts for her! She wasn't that kind of mage! She wasn't!

Brimir, she should have taken Henrietta up on that offer to spend time with Jean-Jacques. He was more handsome than Jason, anyone would agree, and surely his cool manners would warm again towards her as they became reacquainted . . .

But it wasn't Jean-Jacques's chest and shoulder that she imagined pressing herself against, as she lay there. Not the scent of him that she recalled, that had been such a relief to drink in after the terror of kidnapping. Neither his gaze nor caress, the memories of which helped her relax and finally drift off.

No, not Jean-Jacques at all.

---

"Wake up, young familiar."

Jason twitched awake, escaping a nightmare of spreading blood and eldritch glowing . . . but the imagery fled from his waking memory, and he was pleased to let it go. And as he sat up and stretched, his bones no longer felt fragile, as they had after Henrietta had finished healing him. Guess we just needed a good night's sleep for her work to finish.

Headmaster Osmond was there, standing at the foot of his air mattress, waiting with a patient expression, so he scrambled to his feet even as he fought a yawn.

"You seemed troubled in your repose," the old man stated. "A bad dream?"

"I was revisiting the battle, I think," Jason replied, shaking his head to clear it before rubbing his eyes to remove the dried rheum. "Not something I'm terribly keen to do, honestly . . . er, did you get a report on that?"

The Headmaster nodded. "I stayed awake until 'Josephus' returned and spoke with me. He was impressed by the tally of your slain, scattered among the trees."

He was? Didn't exactly act like it, afterward. Which would sound too much like whining if spoken aloud. "I wasn't exactly fighting fair, sir. There's, uh, a phrase my people have, 'defeat in detail', where you engage as small a group of the enemy as you can, so that you have the advantage of numbers and overwhelm them, before moving on to the next small group of foes, until you've defeated them all."

Osmond stroked his beard. "That is not a phrase I'm familiar with, but it does nearly describe how I will act to scourge Reconquista, if I must. But if your people have codified it as a tactic, would they not know to counter it as well?"

"Yeah." Jason offered a wry smile. "So did the kidnappers. I didn't get more than a third of them at most before the survivors grouped up and pinned me down." His smile then turned smug. "Which let Louise come from behind and . . . take the rest down in twos and threes with her explosions while I . . . held their attention. Her practice sessions with speed and accuracy have paid off nicely." Okay, at some point we need to introduce MMO terms to the local lexicon. 'I held aggro while she AoE'd them down' would have been so much more concise.

"It was well done that she defeated them so swiftly," the Headmaster agreed. "If they'd stayed alive to support the draugr made from King James' corpse, the skirmish might have had a very different outcome."

"I know, they were herding me towards it when Louise intervened. I guess they figured it'd be able to take me down without them taking any more casualties."

"Ah. That was a detail that 'Josephus' was not able to supply." Osmond then gestured to the table. "I imagine you are quite thirsty, after your ordeal."

Two tall glasses of something awaited them, and upon seeing them Jason realized that he was feeling parched indeed. A sip, once he sat down and reached for his beverage, proved the contents to be a combination of a light wine and a not-quite-frozen lime sherbet. The mixture was cold, tart, extremely refreshing, and he managed to down a quarter of the glass before brain-freeze threatened.

Then he jumped up from the table and rushed to the restroom as his bladder sent its demands for relief.

Which left just the rumble in an empty belly that made itself audible as he returned and sat back down.

Headmaster Osmond smiled faintly. "Mr. Ryise reported that you were badly injured facing the draugr, and the required healing was extensive. I've ordered a pot of invalid's stew prepared for your luncheon, and I would advise that you eat as much of it as you can, to replenish your body."

"I've had to get after Louise to take care of herself," Jason replied. Then he chuckled ruefully. "Never thought I'd be the one on the receiving end again, once I finished my time at the university. But her Highness did good work."

"She has proven a talented healer, for all her youth," the Headmaster allowed. "Although her study of the spells to restore injured bones seems lacking, from what I observed while you slept."

Wait, our bones seem just fine, now that we've had a full night's sleep. "They feel fine this morning, sir. Do I need to be careful with them for a while?" That might mean putting off experimenting with the powers we uncovered. Which would suck.

"No, I presumed that you would not object if I finished the work of healing you," Osmond responded. "You might have need of your full health soon, should her Highness call upon your master for aid once more."

"Uh." Brain freeze no longer threatened, so Jason had a bit more of his sherbet. And so far the slight alcoholic content didn't seem to be affecting him. "You think she might?"

"Classes have been dismissed, and Miss Vallière has completed her missed assignments, so she would have the time to spare. And since you and your master are already entangled in her Highness's secrets, I would be more surprised if you were not called upon before classes resume."

"Right. And secrets. Ugh. Okay, I don't have the status to chide Mr. Ryise, but do you?"

"You mean, did I make him aware that certain actions will make it nigh-impossible for me to provide further support, should they come to light?" Headmaster Osmond looked quite severe for a moment. "Chiding a prince can be a delicate undertaking, but fortunately I have had considerable experience concerning young nobles whose misdeeds have become difficult to ignore."

He sighed, and dropped the severe expression, suddenly looking every year of his obviously long life. "Not that it will stop him and his lover from meeting when they think they can keep their trysts hidden. But hopefully they will employ a great deal of care in the arrangement thereof. And if they do not take sufficient care, I am already pondering a more effective method of chastising their carelessness."

Jason raised an eyebrow. "Hope it works, whatever it is. So . . . ready to chastise me?"

The Headmaster eyed him, and stroked his beard again. "Is there need to?"

"If I'd told Louise what was going on before she and Princess Henrietta reached the ambush site, they would have been kept safe. Might not have gotten the power that lets me find her when she calls for me, but if his Highness and I hadn't needed to split up to keep the kidnappers away from their mounts we probably could have dispatched the living ones without involving the girls, and as long as the dragons were taken out the draugr would be stuck here on the continent. Doubt it could've gotten away with invading Bruxelles to get to Princess Henrietta."

"So you have already pondered how it might have gone differently, and without so much risk." Osmond gave him a steady look. "And your reason for taking that risk?"

"To try to keep Wales' continued survival a secret. Except-" Jason paused, sighing. "Except that looking back, once we were on the gryphon and flying out there keeping that a secret wasn't going to happen."

"I agree, by then it was a fool's hope. But I have seen from countless examples that wisdom takes time and often a good deal of suffering to develop. Your own suffering, if you continue to be as fortunate as you were last night, and the suffering of others if you are not so fortunate. Nonetheless it is well that a draugr is not loose to plague the hinterlands of Bruxelles until it is finally beheaded. So the risk you took, however foolish, secured that prize at the least."

"Okay." Can't say we're thrilled about the notion of gaining wisdom through our own suffering, but . . . better than gaining wisdom through the suffering of Louise, that's for damn sure. "How's Josephus doing? Isn't he going to be months behind everyone else in First Form?"

"Indeed he is," Headmaster Osmond agreed with a nod. "But the 'payment provided by the Ryise family' is enough to engage the tutelage of one of our more advanced Third Form students during the summer break. If he is diligent, he shall be caught up with his peers by the time classes recommence this autumn."

"Except that with his true affinity, he's going to have a harder time with Earth magic." Jason was not entirely successful in suppressing a smirk. "And he can't express any princely displeasure if he doesn't want to blow his cover. Bet he'll love that part."

Osmond's eyes twinkled slightly. "I will allow that he has been granted an opportunity to experience a perspective that a prince otherwise might not. And I shall be ready to emphasize lessons that he might otherwise ignore. Fortunately, most of his free time shall be spent seeking to begin to organize the Albionian refugees into militant partisans, and so his opportunities to seek out additional trouble should be limited.

"Now, as I said, I took the liberty of completing the healing of your bones. And after hearing Mr. Ryise's report of what happened when you released your weapons after the battle, I also took the opportunity to examine you for traces of unusual magic."

Jason blinked at the sudden shift in subject. "Louise was able to call me to her side, like you suggested. Second auxilum, or third, if you consider the translation auxilum and our growing ability to commune mentally to be separate auxilia."

"Or perhaps they are all expressions of the universal auxilia of familiars to discern what their masters wish," the Headmaster offered.

"Uh, I suppose I gotta know what she wants before I can actually do it. So yeah, could be. Anyway, this next one probably falls under protective auxilia: When I drew a weapon with the intent to use it on the kidnappers, it messed with my head pretty fiercely. Made me a lot more willing to-"

He broke off, fighting down a gorge that was suddenly trying to rise, as the memory of – of going for that one mage's joints so that he could then nail the man's throat to the ground by his own swordwand – came to the forefront of his mind.

"To slay?" Osmond asked gently.

Jason nodded, breathing deep to try to settle the sudden nausea. Another sip from his glass of sherbet-wine helped, fortunately. "Switches off when I let go, but I remember it all. Knowing they're people, but not letting that stop me because they went after Louise and that made them targets." He shook his head. "Sir, it pisses me off to think about them going after her, but I don't know that I could kill them again. Not without letting that power back into my head."

The older man regarded him calmly. "Would you?"

"If she's in danger? In a heartbeat."

Headmaster Osmond smiled slightly. "Then, since for the sake of your master you are not refusing to use what you've been granted, I will share my observation. There were noticeable traces of Fire magic fading throughout your body, concentrating mainly in your brain but flickering along the nerves."

"Fire, huh?" Jason took another deep breath. "Hold Person is a Fire praestum, and Numb is a Fire . . . cantrip, I think? Mr. Colbert said that Fire governs the nerves, so something that increases my aggression would be Fire as well." Hell, any passion. That lust spell Kirche used had to have been Fire, that's all she casts outside of cantrips.

"Aggression?" The Headmaster shook his head. "I do not think that the power you manifested was something so simple as inflaming your aggression. The remnants I could discern seemed far more sophisticated than that, for all that I've not studied any regimen of spells or potions that would result in the patterns I observed in my examination."

"Something sophisticated? Uh, did it leave anything behind?" Because if we're willing to use it to defend Louise, even though that could mean more killing – but isn't that normal, to be willing to fight to protect loved ones? Doesn't it make sense to use something that ensures we won't freeze up at a critical point? Like we almost did, hiding behind that tree?

"Everything you do leaves behind its mark, both in you and in the world around you," Osmond replied, which wasn't helping, but then he continued gently: "Nonetheless, I detected nothing gone obviously awry. Or grossly altered, as I have seen in certain instances in the past."

"Altered?" A memory popped up, of Henrietta offering to have him wrestle Agnes, confident in her bodyguard's chances of victory despite Jason having several inches and dozens of pounds over the admittedly tall and fit blonde. "Sir, if someone around . . . let's say around Kirche's height, but leaner? If she was strong enough to be confident of out-wrestling someone my size, what kind of alterations would we be talking about?"

The Headmaster frowned and stroked his beard yet again. "Do you have a specific person in mind?"

"Yeah, but I didn't see anything obviously wrong about her, so I was thinking about trying to get some magically-enhanced strength myself. Facing that draugr as an unmodified human sucked."

"I'm certain it was unpleasant. But are you willing to brave the consequences of altering your physique for battle?"

Jason blinked. "I get that a lot of things have trade-offs, and there's stuff I wouldn't want to give up. I'm pretty smart, for example, and I'd rather not risk my ability to think. Hell, one of the really useful things about that power when I was fighting was how it kept my head clear so that I could think about what I was trying to do."

Osmond nodded. "Then you would not wish a regimen similar to what is used to create the Imperial Guard of Germania."

"Uh, not without knowing what they are, what the regimen does, or what the costs are. And not even then, depending on those costs."

The older man looked almost startled for a moment, then chuckled. "Ah, yes. Forgive me, I'd forgotten that you are not, in truth, Germanian.

"The Imperial Guardsmen stand ten feet tall, are as strong as the mightiest ogre, and as fast as anyone half their size. But the rumors of how they are made speak of strange alchemies and blasphemous spells, and the Guardsmen are said to think only of the chance to do battle, and to bring glory to their Emperor on his marvelous throne."

Sounds like medieval Space Marines, only bigger, stronger, faster, and maybe a bit smarter. But there's so much more to the world than fighting. Jason shook his head. "No, thank you very much. Would you happen to know who I'm talking about? The woman with the enhanced strength?"

Headmaster Osmond frowned. "Not specifically. But this woman would not be here are the Academy, or I would know of her. And the spells that might be used are obscure, and have fallen out of favor. She was not the product of Germanian alchemy at all? No new experiment seeking a lesser enhancement for regular soldiers?"

"Uh, no, she's not Germanian. As far as I know. And she wasn't obviously mutated by the process. Just a lot stronger than you'd expect."

"Then, given that muscles are governed by Water, I would hazard a guess that this women of yours is in the service of Princess Henrietta."

"So you didn't explicitly know about her." Jason sighed. "Given her Highness's penchant for mischief, I don't know if she's supposed to be using those spells, but please don't get her in trouble over it? I'd like the chance to have strength approaching an ogre myself, since it seemed like her agent kept all her intelligence and free will."

The frown on the Headmaster's face deepened. "As strong as an ogre, you say?"

"Eh, it was more like she wasn't there yet, but was going to be."

"Then I should write to Her Highness straightway," Osmond replied. "Unless her studies in Earth, Fire, and Air are farther along than I thought, she may have pushed her agent's strength to dangerously unbalanced heights."

Jason raised one eyebrow. "The agent seemed sane enough."

"No, her mind need not be at risk," the Headmaster agreed. "But if her musculature has been strengthened alone, without a balancing regimen involving the other elements, then she may suffer from clumsiness, or at least a difficulty in exercising delicacy. And at full exertion she is likely to become short of breath, or even risk snapping her own bones."

"Huh." So hauling Nicole around didn't come close to what Agnes's enhanced strength is capable of. We want! "As obscure as these spells are, you not only know of them, you know the likely hazards of their misuse." But what do we have that he'd take in trade? Eh, can't hurt to ask. "So what would it cost to have you apply the non-Germanian regimen to me?"

Headmaster Osmond didn't reply for a moment.

"Which one?" he finally asked. "Even setting aside the Germanian arts of flesh-twisting, there are many possibilities." His lips quirked. "Although this is typically a conversation had with the master, and not the familiar."

It is? But then- "These spells work on both humans and animals?" Jason asked back, blinking. "There's enough of a difference between each species that I'm a bit surprised that's the case."

"No, no, you mistake my meaning," Osmond replied. "Most familiars do not develop as battle-companions, but some do. For every species of familiar that can, there are established regimens of spell and potion to enhance their auxilia and physical prowess. For example, Miss Zerbst sought out my secretary the very day she summoned her salamander, to make an appointment with me to discuss possible regimens for it.

"Yet she elected not to apply any of them for the time being: Eldrwyrm salamanders rarely breed in captivity, but a familiar is much more likely to."

"Are you saying that the regimens she was offered might have interfered with that?" Not very appealing, if getting boosted means becoming sterile. Or worse, impotent!

"Even the most balanced and subtle regimens can be expected to have some effects," the Headmaster confirmed. "And an Eldrwyrm salamander willing to breed would be worth more than one with sharper claws or a hotter fire. A crossbred salamander with Eldrwyrm heritage is far less difficult to handle, and would therefore be nearly as valuable, should Miss Zerbst choose to make the offspring of her familiar available."

Jason blinked again, and sipped a little more of his sherbet to cover it. A noble engaging in commerce? That's . . . actually, we're talking about the magical economy, so it's probably not a problem. "Okay, I do want to minimize the negative side effects. But if Princess Henrietta is going to keep calling on Louise to handle things that I probably shouldn't discuss, I'd really like to get some strength enhancements." He smiled wryly. "And if there's something that'll make me less clumsy as well, I wouldn't want to turn it down unless, again, it involves negative side effects."

Headmaster Osmond smiled again, but shook his head. "It would be best, first, to determine how your own auxilia will influence you," he said gently. "As I said, what I discerned indicated a quite sophisticated influence upon your brain and nerves, and two separate regimens can cause unexpected – and often undesirable – effects if mixed together."

He paused, frowned, and then continued in a quite serious tone of voice. "I have not had this conversation with your master, although I intend to soon enough, but as you are fully intelligent I will point out that the powers manifested by each familiar are almost always well-suited to the life that the master leads."

It took Jason a long moment to figure that out, and when he did he took what was honestly a gulp of the sherbet. "You mean to say, if my auxilia are centered around protecting her, I can expect her to head into danger fairly often. Yesterday won't be the only time I have to kill someone."

Osmond nodded, still looking very serious. "Most likely. You were chosen to be her familiar, and given auxilia suited to aid her, so you must expect that you will need to call upon them. However, as you are more than a beast, I will caution you as I plan to caution your master, and as I caution any student whose familiar is well-suited to battle: It is better for an enemy to perish than to let that enemy destroy what you love, but take care that what you love does not become unworthy of the blood on your hands."

A wave of denial rose up, and Jason started to open his mouth in heated response . . . but then the memory rose of the Reconquista mage pinned to the ground by his own swordwand.

"The men I killed were engaging in an act of war, during a time of peace," he finally said quietly, after taking another deep breath and another sip to help settle his stomach again. "Or at least they haven't declared war on Tristain that I'm aware of. So I won't blame myself for their deaths, no matter how sickening the memories are. But you're right, the one thing that you must never trade for your heart's desire is your heart itself."

"I've not heard it put in that manner before," the Headmaster responded, smilingly slightly once again, "but well stated. And I meant no criticism of either your master or who she is loyal to. As I will advise her, your devotion is admirable, so long as you are not blind in it."

Yeah, that makes sense. Blind devotion means you can't see when they're about to jump off into the abyss. "Wasn't my line, to be honest. Read it in a book." Memory, by Bujold, and we have it on our phone . . . and once we've got a working typewriter we should transcribe them. "So, no spells to make me stronger until we figure out what my newly-discovered powers are doing to me?"

"I would advise caution," Headmaster Osmond agreed. "You have been working with Jean Colbert, and if he is amenable I would advise training under his direction as well, much like how your master has trained this spring."

"That . . . yeah, that sounds like a good idea." Jason paused for a moment. "Fine, I'll hold off on seeking out warrior boosts, but . . . okay, if there are multiple regimens, by any chance would a general enhancement of everything give the best overall results for the least negative effects?"

Osmond chuckled, with a hint of an elderly wheeze leaking through. "You can be remarkably tenacious when seeking something for yourself, young familiar."

"I will wait, sir, but as Louise complained last night, I ended up grappling that draugr three times. And honestly, that was the interesting part of the fight, figuring out how to take it down without dying, but if I'm gonna be a meatshield for her I want things to be as unfairly in my favor as possible."

The Headmaster chuckled again. "You already have an extra portion of a man's size, which since you have largely finished growing is fortunate. Her Highness's agent will likely need to focus on her strength in order to eventually match the might of an ogre, and so my recommendations to the princess will focus on helping her agent's body support that strength safely.

"But for you, yes, a more balanced regimen will suffice. Your muscles may be strengthened, your bones and tendons and ligaments toughened, your skin made harder to cut. The speed of your reflexes enhanced, your flexibility and precision increased, your endurance lengthened, and so on.

"The magnitude of the regimen's efficacy will depend on the sacrifices you are willing to make, but the strength of an ogre can be yours, in time. Nonetheless it will take time: Several castings of each of the appropriate spells at each shape, careful observation of the effects to be confident that they do not become unbalanced, and if you seek to avoid negative effects the ultimate result will be substantially less than what is possible."

"Sounds expensive." Jason scratched the back of his head. "And if the Germanians have treatments that work better, assuming you don't care about the quality of life of the poor bastard being treated," or in other words stuff for enlisted and junior NCOs, but not officers, "I guess that maybe explains why the classic spells became obscure."

"Such regimens were used more often, before the Easterlings brought their alchemical expertise to Halkegenia," Headmaster Osmond agreed, "but the expense meant that a full regimen, up to the use of Square elementari, was rarely applied even then. The sign that one was a trusted agent of the most powerful of mages."

Well, Louise is powerful, for all that she can't cast easily. "Which gets us back to the question of, what would you want in exchange, once I'm ready?"

Osmond gave him an arch look in response. "Young familiar, you are not my agent: Such an arrangement would be more appropriately sought by your master, when the time comes. However, you hardly require the attention of a Square in the beginning. Any competent Dot could learn and apply the initial spells of their appropriate element, if they had copies to study from."

"Mm." Jason frowned thoughtfully. "Does the Academy have them? For Louise to get copies from, once I get her to arrange this?"

"I suppose it would not be too much trouble, to permit Miss Vallière the opportunity to acquire such spells. Her family has become famously loyal to the Throne of Water, after all."

And by implication we can be trusted with power, because we're less likely to go rogue as long as we're attached to our little mistress. Except-

Well. It was a huge except, so he drank again from his cup and screwed up his courage. "Speaking of which, sir, if I may ask . . . you all couldn't know that I'd respect Louise's virtue when I showed up, and maybe I'm her familiar but I'm also a grown man in my early twenties. So-" he smiled sheepishly, "to borrow her occasional use of a dog metaphor, why wasn't I leashed until I'd proven my good will?"

A short pause ensued.

"Did you imagine that you were not observed closely?"

"Uh, what?"

The Headmaster smirked at his sudden expression of dismay. "It was a delicate process, especially as a noble maiden is entitled to her privacy. But I will reveal one secret: My familiar Mótsognir is a small mouse, and able to creep about unseen when he wishes."

Privacy, huh? Jason frowned. "Sir, with all due respect, I'm pretty sure that spying through your familiar does not count as preserving anyone's privacy."

The smirk on the old man's face widened to a grin. "Ah, but mice have poor vision. Barely enough to discern the color of a woman's culottes, should one manage to creep beneath a skirt to find out. But their hearing and sense of smell are both excellent, and I've found that increasing Mótsognir's intelligence so that he can act on his own initiative has been well worth the increased difficulty in communing with him."

"Act on his own-" Monty Python, the rabbit of Caerbannog! "His powers to include enhanced jumping, claws, and teeth? Perfect for a, er, sudden trauma to the groin?"

That last question was asked in somewhat sickly tones.

In response, Headmaster Osmond's grin became positively shit-eating. "My, my, young familiar. That is some fascinating speculation on your part."

Which is neither confirmation nor denial, because precisely how the spying little squeaker would have interfered isn't part of the secret he was sharing. "Okay, so there was a hidden test of character. But Louise was determined to treat me as a familiar, rather than a strange man, and I wasn't about pounce on her like a sex-starved lunatic. Plus it wasn't until the next day that we started to get along."

"Indeed. Mótsognir continued to observe you, of course." Osmond paused. "You may imagine my delight when he reported that the laundresses were able to understand you, that first night. Although it has been disappointing that you do not seem to understand the other familiars."

Jason blinked yet again. "Familiars can talk to each other?" Is that why it seemed so easy to read Sylphid's body language?

The Headmaster nodded. "So Mótsognir has reported. Unfortunately, while he is quite intelligent for a mouse, he lacks the full intelligence of a person, and so he has not been a practical means of conversing with them."

"Of . . . oh, that would be useful, wouldn't it?"

"Verily. Although I was concerned about the bouts of crazed laughter, after you returned to your master's tower."

"The-?" Jason stopped short, flushing, as the memory of sitting on the bottom floor of the tower, laughing hysterically, resurfaced. "Oh. That. It was a bit overwhelming, when it all came rushing in. A strange new world, the kind of extended adventure that my people can only dream of." And our assigned boss and meal-ticket was a very pretty girl, but maybe we shouldn't mention that.

"You were thrilled, and not panicked?" Headmaster Osmond's lips twitched. "I should not be surprised that a summoned familiar was content to remain. Nonetheless, I was concerned. But your master's miscast, that awakened your ability to understand each other, reassured me that she could look after herself if you descended into madness again."

"That-!" Pause. Sigh. "Fine. I suppose that's fair enough."

"And then, the next afternoon, your master enjoyed her initial success with Levitate. As a result of your counsel, no less. It was not anything I expected to happen, or at least not so soon, but it greatly eased the tensions between the Academy and Miss Vallière's parents."

"Her-?" Jason paused again. "Right. Of course that was important. Louise's sisters are already Lines, and she hadn't even qualified as a hedge-mage when she started classes. They must have been looking to the Academy as one last attempt to salvage her. And all she was able to do, that first year, were theory and practice exercises for her wand."

"She spoke of them, then?" Osmond tilted his head. "Not a year of practice in First Form, though. Miss Vallière joined us nearly two years ago, a month before classes resumed that autumn, for her parents knew that she would require extra attention. And indeed, she was singled out for much special instruction, and to the resentment and ridicule of many of her classmates. In the end, I was privately convinced she was a mage, but none of her trials and tests were successful."

He leaned forward, his face severe. "Her parents eventually spoke of removing her, so that she might marry quickly, but agreed to wait until we saw the results of the Springtime Summoning Rite. And then you appeared, and I saw little hope of keeping Miss Vallière at the Academy." He then leaned back, picked up his cup of sherbet, and waved it with a flourish. "However . . ."

However . . . are we suppose to pick up from there? "Uh, there I was, supporting Louise and she was finally having some success? Don't, um," they use magic here, not machines, "vary the casting that isn't failing?"

The Headmaster nodded with a satisfied expression, before draining the cup. "So I argued, young familiar. It helped that you have not abused your proximity to your master. And it was especially reassuring when Mótsognir reported that you begged Miss Vallière to preserve her modesty in front of you."

Jason followed suit in draining the rest of his cup, hoping his blush wasn't too obvious. After all, he got a brief view of Louise's bare torso almost every time he helped her dress for bed. And while he wouldn't complain as her final growth spurt hit and her figure matured, she did already have the (delightfully pert) bosom of a grown woman. Petite, but grown.

But again, not something to mention out loud. Or how 'pert' is equally apropos for her cute little ass, if her fairy costume wasn't lying about what was underneath. "My people have terms for men who won't keep their peckers under control. Most too vile to mention, but also 'trash', 'chav', 'thug', 'rockstar', 'reporter', 'rapper', 'actor', 'lawyer', or if you really want to be insulting, 'politician'."

Headmaster Osmond stared at him for a long moment.

Then began to chuckle once more.

"You have held yourself to stricter standards than many nobles might," the older man acknowledged, once his wheezing overcame his laughter and he had to stop to catch his breath. "Continue to aid Miss Vallière, and I shall be able to report to her parents that all continues to be well."

"It will be my honor, sir." Then, continuing thoughtfully: "I still have that scroll for Louise to try when she returns, but is there anything else regarding her magic that it'd be helpful to focus on? To set her parents any further at ease?"

"Hmm. I understand from Jean Colbert that your master has learned the majority of the cantrips that First Form students are expected to study," Osmond replied, equally thoughtful. "Nonetheless it is expected that a Second Form student, having discovered her affinity, should prove able to cast elementari as well."

"Ignite before classes resume. Got it." Jason nodded firmly, then set his empty cup down on the tray and smiled sheepishly. "Mind if I write down a summary of all this? Wouldn't do to forget something important."

"By all means."

Both cups were on the tray by the time a notebook and pen had been retrieved.

"So, to recap: Get Louise up to Dots. Train with Mr. Colbert. Plan out regimen for later. See about talking to other familiars. Healing is now finished-"

"Mostly," the Headmaster interrupted. "There will be some tenderness around your ribs for two or three days, due to the need to undo some minor errors on her Highness's part. Nothing that will impede you, though, aside from the discomfort."

"Mostly finished, then, and I can train under Mr. Colbert right away, yes? Yes. Josephus is settling in, a big meal is coming for lunch-"

"Or slightly afterward. The stew will need time to thicken."

Jason shrugged. "Late lunch, then. I'll probably nap until it shows up. Anything else?"

"Remember to give Miss Vallière the scroll to practice casting from."

"Right."

"I believe those were the salient points," Headmaster Osmond confirmed. He stood up and retrieved the tray. "I shall thus leave you to resume your slumber, young familiar."

Wait, except- "Uh, one last thing, sir. If anyone notices that you visited me this morning, what should I tell them?"

Osmond smiled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "You need not worry. Like Mótsognir, I can move about the Academy unseen if I wish." With that the old archmage hurried out of the room, his pace surprisingly spry for such an elderly individual.

The door had barely begun to close when the pen hit the table, as Jason leapt from the chair and dashed to the exit. No, you're not pulling a batman vanish on us!

But the Headmaster was already gone from the hallway by the time he got the door back open. There was no wavering in the air to hint at invisibility, no pop of air displacement from teleporting, and no rotating stones to mark a secret passage. The hall was entirely empty . . . save for a uniformed maid walking down the hall towards the stairwell.

She reached the end of the hall, and turned to the exit, revealing that she bore a tray.

With two empty glasses placed upon it.

There she paused and, apparently noticing Jason looking at her, turned a little more towards him, showing off a profile whose curves were quite generous, both fore and aft.

Then she winked at him, and sashayed her way out of the hall and down the stairwell.

He stood there for a moment, trying to deny the horrifying implication, before very quietly stepping back into Louise's bedroom and closing the door.

"That evil genius. He's not only got his familiar roaming around, he's had however long to master that shapeshifter Mirror of his. For all we know he can be anyone, anytime, anywhere. And where he can't be his mouse can sneak into. And he's made sure we know it."

Jason gazed longingly at where Louise kept her wine for visitors. Sweet oblivion, here-

No, no, never mind. Won't do any good to try to forget, and who knows what could happen if we get drunk again? Let's just go to bed.

Except what if the nightmare comes back?

Dammit, we can't . . . wait.

He made his way over to Louise's bed, leaned over it to the middle where she tended to sleep, and took a deep sniff.

This is pathetic. If anyone saw us-!

But there was no one else there, and for all that his little mistress hadn't slept in her bed for most of a week, and the bedding had surely been changed and cleaned during that time, a trace of her essence did seem to linger.

And even that tiny remnant of her presence was comforting. Soothing.

So Jason lay down in that spot, on top of the covers, and began a breathing exercise. In, hold, out. In, hold, out.

In, hold, out.

The reminder of Louise helped, perhaps, and soon enough he drifted off.

---

Something was off. Jason knew it, he wasn't denying it-

But didn't it make sense, that Henrietta would have needed to examine his little mistress for mistreatment, after she'd been kidnapped? Rape kits were a thing for a reason, after all.

And if Louise didn't bother to put her chemise back on before she came over to press herself against him, while the two royals disappeared for their tryst, he wasn't complaining. Nor was she, when he cautiously stroked the soft skin of her bare back. Indeed, she responded by pressing her body against him even more, their kiss deepening, and he felt himself swelling as-

A sharp pain in his side made him cry out. The discomfort made his, ahem, urgency collapse as his eyes opened to the sight of the bedroom, where . . . where Siesta was bent over him, her hand jerked back from where she'd apparently touched his side to try to waken him.

"They said you took ill last night!" she exclaimed, her face filled with concern, "but are you injured as well?!"

"It's, uh, it's not something I can talk about," he replied apologetically, rolling to his right side to face her a little better. "But I'll be fine, it's just some lingering soreness from where I was treated."

"Oh! I shouldn't have-!"

She bent over a little more, and pulled his shirt up. Then, before Jason could properly react to that, kissed the sore spot that now lay exposed.

Muzzy with sleep as he still was, his brain gave up, and demanded a reboot.

"Siesta-?" He began uncertainly.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you!" With that, she plopped herself down onto the bed, effectively trapping his right hand beneath her waist. Her left hand reached up to feel his forehead, while her right gently caressed the spot she'd just kissed . . . and then made its way up under his raised shirt to end up between his shoulder blades.

Uh. Her interest in us is confirmed! And there wasn't anywhere safe to put his left hand. Against her side would be a hug, and further up-! Not with her chest pressing warmly against him through the thin fabric of the black dress of her uniform!

And up further still would mean her hair or her cheek, and her face was close enough that either one could be taken as an invitation to press herself forward and up to cover the distance and-

Sitting up was an awkward lurch, and he almost end up falling half on top of her instead when she didn't let go, but Jason's masculine advantage in size and strength proved enough to manage the feat, if only barely.

"I'm fine," he promised, pulling his shirt back down and patting her on the back. Then his stomach growled. "Although I wouldn't say no to lunch. Is it almost ready?"

"The pot's on the fire," Siesta replied. "That's how I found out, so I hurried up here as soon as I could!" Then her nose wrinkled. "And if you didn't wash up last night, you must be feeling poorly! Lie back down, and I'll help you clean up."

Help us . . . ! He did need to wash himself, but her offer was . . . let's face it, straight out of rule 34. If she's being this forward with Louise gone, then-

["Louise? Are you awake by any chance?"]

["J-Jason? I . . . yes, awake. I'm awake!"] For some reason she sounded rather breathless.

["Are you okay?"]

["I'm well!"] Louise 'yelped'. ["I had breakfast with Henrietta earlier, she's also well, and you're the only one who was seriously hurt. How are you?"]

["Much better, thank you. But, on a related note: Do any of Siesta's books feature a wounded or ill hero who recovers quickly enough to seduce his caring and very, very attentive nurse?"]

There was a pause.

["Louise?"]

Another short pause.

["I'm going to get a pegasus right now. I'll be there as soon as I can. Don't you dare let her do anything she shouldn't!"]

["I'll do my best. But please hurry."]

Well. No mention of those kisses before the royals interrupted us, but if she's feeling as jealous of Siesta as we feel about Jean-Jacques, that-

"Jason, lie back down!" the aforementioned maid demanded again, trying to pull on him to accomplish the task. Except that, for all that her adult maturity made her a bit heavier than his little mistress, she was still half his size at best.

So after a few moments of futile struggle, she scooted around, tossed her head to clear her face of escaping raven tresses, and looked up at him with wide eyes and a pout on her lips.

"Don't strain yourself, please!" she scolded. "Annabelle assigned me to care for you this afternoon, so let me do my job!"

And having such a pretty girl begging to attend to him, when it seemed like she hoped to attend to his every need . . .

If we're going to compare her to Jessica, that's best done when Louise is still too far away to interrupt.

The thought flashed across his mind in an instant, and his eyes darted down to Siesta's lips, glistening and slightly parted, just waiting for his attention.

And then she'll help us bathe, right? Shall we try to tell our little mistress that it was a false alarm, and she should go back to Bruxelles and Jean-Jacques?

His libido protested loudly, but he had already summoned Louise and it would not go well if she arrived and found either of them less than dressed.

And at least she is still willing to do whatever takes to rescue us from amorous quarter-Japanese beauties, even if it means leaving her fiancé's company at a moment's notice.

Smug thoughts aside, it was time to get up before said beauty took any more initiative, so Jason lurched to the side of the bed, dragging her with him, and stood up.

"Don't worry," he told her reassuringly. "The Headmaster said that I would be fine, just a bit of tenderness where my ribs needed some extra attention."

The pout didn't leave Siesta's lips as she stood up herself. "Why do you have to be one of the bad patients?" she demanded, crossing her arms to glare at him.

He rolled his eyes. "I told you, I'm fine." And how do we wash up without her 'helping'? Aha! "But speaking of the Headmaster, are there any nobilia that will light up slightly if vermin are nearby? Like rats or mice?"

"The-" Her eyes widened. "Are you worried about his familiar spying on you? Noble quarters are suppose to be private!"

"Yeah, and a rat bane means he'll know I'm using countermeasures. But if I can get some warning that what I say out loud is getting recorded and reported? Well, mice don't see terribly well. An unobtrusive nobilum means he wouldn't know that I know when his little squeaker is around and eavesdropping." Getting rid of olfactory evidence won't be feasible until Louise completes Freshen and Scour, but it's not like we're anywhere close to third base with her.

Siesta narrowed her eyes. "And what are you planning, while I'm gone?"

Jason rolled his eyes. "You're right, I reek, so I'll wash up. And then my food should be here soon, right? I'll be waiting for that, you can be sure!"

"Hmph. We'll see." With that, she marched out of the room, chin in the air . . . and perhaps a bit of an extra sway just below her waist.

He shook his head as he turned to the buckets and started stripping. Having a girl wrapped around us may have been all sorts of pleasant distraction, but until we get over Louise – if we have to, and after last night things are more confused there than ever – Siesta is the wrong girl. Besides, if Jessica gets word that we did kiss her cousin like she pretty much dared us to, then-

No. No fantasies about two quapa hotties sharing us between them. Especially not after Siesta's already said she'd be happy to use that stupid Bustier! Doesn't matter if she's coming back, so's our little mistress and duke's daughter trumps maid!

Although, as his resentful libido was complaining, sleeping with a maid was a lot less dangerous than sleeping with any young noblewoman with both a fiancé and parents that were known to be protective.

Shut up. If Louise is jealous, the best we could hope for would be for her to start crying if she found out we were sleeping around on her. We do not want that!

He washed up quickly, and managed to get dressed and sit down at the table, where his notebook and pen still lay from where he'd written out the recap.

Jason glared at them, thinking. The Headmaster gave us some good ideas, so . . . wait, is that why he was so reasonable, when he wasn't trolling us? Convince us of the worth of various projects, and until we've finished them our spare time is pretty effectively locked down.

And he'd probably like to be able to talk with familiars, like he said. Which is a way to curry favor both for ourself and Louise, once we work out how to do it. Start with Sylphid, if we can figure out where she goes when she's not hanging around Tabitha.

But in the meantime, our little mistress has improved her speed and aim, so there's probably going to be some diminishing returns on further practice soon enough, which means it might be a good idea to brainstorm some tricks she might try for extra practice.

Besides, her explosions had a hard time working against the draugr until we could hold its hand still for her to pop, so if we can cheat out some extra damage types beyond straight Force damage or whatever it is those explosions inflict-

He picked up the pen, bent over the notebook, and started writing.

---

Louise woke up with a gasp, her body shuddering with echoes of pleasure. Her face burned with mortification, and her only consolation was that no one was there to witness the proof that she was turning into that kind of mage.

It was even worse than waking up in the middle of the night after Jason had read that book to her and his maid, and discovering that she'd somehow rolled on top of him. At least he hadn't woken up to discover her like that, and the dream she'd woken up from had been vague enough that the person who'd been holding her and making her feel excited and happy could have been anyone.

(And since he hadn't woken to catch her, she'd been able to feel clever and mischievous once she'd calmed down, rather than mortified. She'd been clinging to Siesta when she woke up in the morning, anyway, so obviously she'd rolled back off sometime in the night.)

But this dream was far clearer, and had cast Captain Wardes as the villain who'd captured her and was taking her somewhere – the dream had been unspecific – until Jason had come to rescue her.

But this time, Henrietta had needed to remove all his clothes to tend his wounds, and then Louise had needed to remove her own clothes as well. And when Jason had woken up, and they kissed, his hands had . . . and then she was happily pressing herself to him, and somehow she could kiss him and still join him there despite him being so much taller, and it didn't hurt (or even feel like much of anything, was that because she didn't know how it should feel?) but she could feel it swelling and swelling and-

And now she wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep and try to finish the dream. As much as she'd rather deny it, part of her clearly longed to be that kind of mage, no matter how vile and forsaken and depraved it would be to carry on with her familiar.

The whole situation was becoming absolutely unacceptable. Not only would it be an embarrassment for her family if she canceled the betrothal with Captain Wardes – no, with Jean-Jacques, in this time of waywardness she needed to take special care to think of him as the man, not the captain – but Jason would never be suitable for her in her parents' eyes.

She'd even tested him at the Inn, out of a vague sense that it would be good if he proved to have magic (and Brimir, was she harboring a hidden passion for him even then?) but whatever his auxilia were, they were not the noble magic of the elements.

Although he clearly possessed some magic, wicked and lascivious, if their bond as master and familiar was affecting her like this. Maybe in his fingers, the way it had felt when he'd rubbed the salve into . . . oooooh!

This was absurd! How could she conceive a passion for someone who'd met her by landing like an over-sized pile of pig's lard at her feet?! Even if he was looking better these days. Even if he had been such a comforting presence, sleeping next to her at the Inn, not the same as Cattleya but letting her sleep just as well. Even if she had grown to enjoy how he smelled, especially the few times she'd worn his shirts.

Was that the problem? Had she become so used to how Jason smelled that any other man no longer smelled right? Such foolishness on the part of her nose was doubly absurd, commoner men always smelled at least somewhat vile unless they'd had time to bathe recently!

Except Jason went to the trouble to wash up daily. His sweat, that carried his scent to her every time he exercised, never had time to turn sour and rancid (and of course he used her pot de chambre instead of the inferior commoner methods, so he never smelled of his own filth). So to begin with, she needed to be careful and disciplined, and use Freshen liberally to rid her Academy bedroom of any lingering scent, and make doubly sure he didn't hold her again-

That thought was enough to send a bolt of almost physical pain through her, and bring another tear to her eye. And so did the notion of Siesta lying in Jason's arms, enjoying his embraces since Louise would have no more use for them. She didn't know how she'd do it, but she would have to keep him from succumbing to such blandishments until she was able to introduce him to Cattleya.

(Or some other noblewoman willing to look past his unfortunate heritage and see the brave, clever, and caring soul underneath, if her sweet and kind sister declined. But wherever might she find a noblewoman wise enough to see past the surface to the worthy man within?)

But for now she had to face the matter at hand. It was clear that she couldn't afford to indulge herself with thoughts of Jason. The pillow that had represented him was easy enough to shove away. It couldn't disobey her and sneak back into her bed while she slept . . . and her treacherous lips were not going to smile at the thought of her familiar finally disobeying her that one night!

And she was not going to imagine demanding that he read of the maids' books to her one evening, just the two of them, her face buried into his chest to hide her blushes at the debauchery of the tale, only to raise her head to shyly meet his gaze after he finished and maybe utter one of the clever phrases employed by the heroine in jesting defiance before her paramour seized her wand and-

["Louise? Would you happen to be awake?"]

["J-Jason?"] she 'stammered', blushing furiously and very grateful that he couldn't see her through their bond. ["I . . . yes, awake. I'm awake!"]

There was a short pause. Then: ["Are you well?"]

Hel take it, why had he interrupted just then? And how flustered had she sounded? ["I'm well!"]

Except the way she'd 'said' it, he wasn't going to buy that unless she distracted him. ["I had breakfast with Henrietta earlier, she's also well, and you're the only one who was sorely wounded. How are you?"]

["Much recovered, thank you. But on a related note: Do any of Siesta's books feature an ailing hero who recovers quickly enough to seduce his caring and very, very attentive medica?"]

The tone of wry exasperation made Louise's eyes widen. Yes, Jason had been better behaved lately. But she'd been the first to kiss him, or almost as good as, last night. If he got it into his head that she might welcome more of la danse d'amour . . . and if he was complaining about Siesta then he clearly would rather be under the care of someone else!, and there wasn't anyone else except for-

No, she wasn't going to grin like a love-struck loon. Not at all! Stop that! This was wrong, there was no cause to go around smiling like a foolish little girl because she'd been careless enough to let him entertain hopes again-

["Louise?"]

Brimir, this was clearly too complicated to sort out at a distance.

She sprang out of bed and started getting dressed. ["I'm going to get a pegasus right now. I'll be there as soon as I can."]

And even though it was high time to set the boundaries in explicit fashion, that didn't mean he could shame her by behaving like a dog in heat. So continuing with ["Don't you dare let her do anything she shouldn't!"] wasn't about soothing any depraved jealousy in her heart, it was just ensuring that Jason upheld the standards expected of any Vallière retainer.

["I'll do my best. But please hurry."]

And that easing in her chest wasn't relief that he still harbored foolish notions for her. She wouldn't let it be. It was that he understood what was expected and wouldn't do anything to shame her or her family.

She nodded firmly to herself as she left the bedroom to seek out Henrietta and make her excuses. It was good to have resolved everything in her heart before she faced Jason. That way she wouldn't betray herself when it came time to speak frankly with her familiar.

---

"You have to leave so soon?" Her Highness looked forlorn.

Louise nodded apologetically. "I'd hoped to stay another day or two, but-"

She stepped forward to embrace her friend and whisper in her ear. "Jason is having a problem with a maid who harbors foolish notions about him. He needs my help to keep her away."

"I see," came the murmured reply. "So you're leaving to go to another man, without making so much as one appointment to let your fiancé spend time courting you."

She flushed beet red, stiffening and pulling back . . . only to see Henrietta giggling at her.

"You tease too easily!" the princess chided, giggling again.

"I-I-" But her Highness hadn't meant anything by it. She wouldn't offer such insult, to seriously accuse Louise of harboring such vile and profane intentions towards her Brimir-given familiar. The accusation of a commoner lover might even grounds for a noble maiden to demand a duel, to clear the slight to her honor. Such jests could only be excused between the closest of friends, and that was what they were. It was mere teasing, nothing more, and certainly not an accusation that was perhaps a little less untrue than it ought to be.

So she rolled her eyes, giggled back, and gave Henrietta another hug. "Take care," she whispered. "Take great care. Tristain depends on it!"

"I know." And if there was sadness in the princess's voice, who could blame her?

There was hardly any more delay – Jason's sandwiches were truly a gift from Brimir, when one had no time to sit down for a proper luncheon! - and soon Louise was winging her way south towards the Academy.

And once she had that conniving maid out of the way, it was time to stop dancing around la danse d'amour.

---

The trouble with brainstorming by himself was that Louise wasn't around to shoot down the unworkable ideas. Or at least make him come up with solutions for whatever objections she came up with. (Although if some of them worked, Mr. Colbert would probably be impressed by their lethality.)

So eventually Jason's thoughts turned back to the subject of girls.

The thing is, we may not know when Siesta decided to try to catch us, but today pretty much confirmed that's what she's up to. Which means we have to address it at some point, because it's not fair to string her along while we're trying to see if we still have a chance with Louise.

Of course, the last girl we said no to was Elena, and the only reason we can say it worked out okay was that we were never really friends, so pissing her off wasn't a big deal. Losing Siesta's friendship would suck. But we gotta figure out how to turn her down gently, unless our little mistress turns us down, 'cause she was literally trying to wrestle us back down onto the bed with her.

On the other hand, what do we do – not who, but what – if Louise does push us away again? Let's face it, as long as Jean-Jacques is in the picture that's all too possible. And once they start planning the wedding, familiar or not he'll probably want us kicked out the door. The meal ticket's been nice, but we can't count on keeping it for much longer. We need to plan for the worst, just in case.

If we're allowed to hang around the Academy, Mr. Colbert might hire us as an assistant. We could help him continue to reinvent things, maybe even get that Germanian title one day. Dunno if we'd still want it, without needing it as a stepping stone to court Louise, but the status could still prove useful.

But the good Captain Viscount Wardes might well demand that we leave the Academy, so that he doesn't have to worry about us sniffing around his fiancée. And other noblemen who look us over seem to see us as orc fodder. So unless we want to spend the rest of our life fighting them without the benefit of exp, levels, and enough hit points to survive getting shot a few dozen times, we need something else.

Which means . . . well, the Charming Faerie Inn. They're prospering, Jessica sure wouldn't mind having us back, and if we introduce Hindu numerals that might help out a lot. Aren't Roman-style numerals supposed to be a complete pain in the ass to work with if you're doing anything more complicated than addition and subtraction? Or at least that's what L. Sprague de Camp claimed in Lest Darkness Fall, and wasn't he one of the ones who liked to do his research? If that's the case, being able to do basic arithmetic in our head will make us look like a mathematical genius.

Speaking of math, when did double-entry bookkeeping become a thing back on Terra? If they haven't invented something like it here, that's something we could also try to parlay into . . . well, money. This particular route probably locks us out of the nobility entirely.

Of course, bookkeeping could prove helpful no matter what, so-

A quick sketch of credit and debit columns proved that he remembered enough from that high school semester to at least fake it.

The door opened, and Jason turned in his chair to see Siesta returning, carrying a large steaming pot with both hands, a small bag slung over her shoulder. The pot was set down on the table with a thump, and the savory smell rising from it brought the reminder that he hadn't eaten since yesterday, and was in fact on doctor's orders to pig out.

"Your stew was almost ready," she said, setting the bag down on the table next to the pot, "but it took a little while to find a circumspectus that I could take."

With that she pulled a carved wooden mouse out of the bag and set it down. The wood was very pale, almost white, and it had tiny bits of quartz for eyes. "When a mouse or rat is nearby, its eyes will light up, or at least until it needs to be Empowered again. We use them to know when the rats' banes in the servants' rooms are failing and need to be refreshed, but a long time ago someone realized that it would also reveal mice and rat familiars that were lurking around."

He raised an eyebrow. And the Headmaster has already learned exactly what details his familiar can glean if it peeks up a woman's skirt. "One in every room of the baths, I'm guessing?"

Siesta nodded. Then she pulled a bowl, a ladle, and a spoon out of the bag. "Are you ready to eat?"

Jason looked down at his notebook. "Uh, lemme jot down a few more things first."

She nodded again, came around to his side, and- "I can't read any of that! Those aren't even letters."

He looked up over his shoulder at her. "Yeah they are. Don't you remember me writing with them for a bit when you were teaching me how to read in your language?"

She blinked. "They're your language? Why are you writing something only you can read?"

"Because I'm the only one who can read this. Until I teach someone else to speak and read English, it's about as close to an unbreakable cipher as you can get."

"Why do you need a cipher?" Siesta asked, looking a bit disgruntled.

"Maybe because most of my friends around here are girls?" Jason replied, smirking.

Her eyes narrowed, and she punished him with a blow to the shoulder. Which was a bit more solid than any hit Louise had ever managed, but still nothing to complain about. "What are you writing about, anyway?"

He shrugged. "Mostly ideas for how to help Louise train her magic. Which is the real reason I need a cipher, because some of these could end up being a big surprise for someone who's up to no good."

"You mean if you two have another secret mission?"

"Uh . . . I can neither confirm nor deny the possibility of us acting as secret agents for anyone. And please don't gossip about the possibility, rumors along those lines could be dangerous."

"I won't," Siesta promised. "But the servants all know you were doing something secret last month in Bruxelles."

Jason shrugged again. "Can't help that. Just, keep it all at the Academy. We don't need word spreading, and eventually ending up being heard by someone smart enough to find out what the commoners know."

The maid nodded, then picked up the bowl and ladled a serving into it. "Now, are you ready to eat?"

"Hang on." A few more scribbles and, "Alright, close enough. Here, that smells wonderful."

But Siesta only smiled, picked up the spoon, dipped it into the bowl, and said, "Open wide!"

He blinked. "I think I can feed myself, thank you."

"No, no, you're recovering!" she insisted, smiling wider as she brandished the business end of the spoon in his direction.

"Stop playing around and give me that!"

She pouted, shook her head, and moved the bowl out of his reach as well.

Jason rolled his eyes in exasperation. ["Louise, what's your ETA?"]

["What's an 'eeteeay'?"] his little mistress replied after a short pause, sounding confused.

["Right, sorry. How long before you arrive?"]

["Oh. No time at all, then!"]

With that, the window opened, and he turned to see her Levitating just outside, her pink hair flowing in the breeze, the admittedly badass pose only heightened by her haughty expression as she entered her bedroom and touched down.

Siesta looked a bit disgruntled. "You're back so soon, Miss Vallière?"

"When I learned that my familiar was injured? Of course I returned!" Louise turned her head to regard the pot. "I left an order for a late luncheon after stabling the pegasus. Is that it, already?"

"No, it's supposed to be all for me," Jason replied. Nice off-the-cuff cover sentence. "I'm guessing supper as well, 'cause I don't see how I can eat it all at one sitting." He took a sniff. It still smelled amazing, but not entirely familiar. "What's in it?"

"It's mostly what you usually eat, vegetables and grains boiled down together," Siesta assured him, "but with plenty of kidney and liver added to help build up your blood."

He grimaced – organ meats were not particularly appealing – but the stew did smell good enough to give it a go. Honestly, his usual diet stew didn't smell nearly as good. "Alright, I probably need the meat. But would you hand it over already? I'm hungry!"

"You're hurt!" she insisted, backing away and still holding his food! "You should be resting, instead of trying do things for yourself."

"No, I'm recovering-!"

His little mistress interrupted, smirking all the while. "This is how you do it," she announced, gesturing imperiously for the bowl. "Jason: Heel!"

The sudden command left him gaping at her for a moment. Then his stomach rumbled, and – Hell with it, Siesta carried it all the way up here without burning her hands! – he took hold of the pot on the table, lifted it to his mouth, and began to guzzle from it directly.

It was hot. Uncomfortably so. But not enough to burn his hands. And the stew managed to be surprisingly tasty, for something full of organs that filter toxic crap from the rest of the body.

Several swallows later, his hunger pangs were easing. So Jason set the pot down, wiped his mouth off, and smiled at the two disappointed girls. "I wouldn't have said I liked liver or kidneys before, but that just might be the tastiest food I've had since arriving here."

"Better than what you ate at the Charming Faerie Inn?" Siesta asked, sounded confused. "Didn't you introduce their new dishes?"

"Eh, might just be me being hungry and needing to build my blood up," he replied.

Louise was still frowning at him, so he made eye contact. ["Yes, little mistress? Something to say?"]

She grimaced. ["Why didn't you cooperate with me?"]

["I'm your companion. If you want to train a dog, go buy one."]

She chose not to reply, but instead scowled and looked away.

Siesta glanced between the two of them, then tossed her head. "I sent a message about that minstrel you wanted," she said when Jason glanced her way. "If the bird flew well I may get a reply tomorrow."

Louise's head quickly turned back to regard them both suspiciously. "Minstrel? What minstrel?" she wanted to know.

The raven-haired maid adopted an expression of wide-eyed innocence. "Jason offered to read to me if I'd ask Uncle Scarron to find a good minstrel for him. He didn't tell you?"

Nostrils flared as pink eyes threatened death to evildoers and wayward familiars. "Y-you r-read her one of h-her b-books?!"

She was very nearly shouting by the end.

Oh shit what do we – if we try to explain the context she'll – wait, this is Siesta trying to stake out territory, isn't it?

"Jason!"

Right, figure it out later, distract now!

"A very interesting read," he replied in an utterly dry voice, so as to not stammer. But his little mistress's glare intensified, so he hurried on. "A beautiful princess is trapped in the clutches of a depraved Germanian nobleman, and a brave Albionian hero is able to rescue her. In the end, nothing, hmm, untoward happens to her."

["And we both know that's absolutely not the case in real life."]

Louise twitched, the flush on her face changing from fury to embarrassment, and for some reason she broke off eye contact and looked away.

"In any event," Jason went on, "I also promised that I'd read a story for two of you from one of my books, once you got back from Bruxelles."

Rose-colored hair whirled once more as his little mistress turned back again to give him a puzzled looked. "One of your stories?"

"And I've been wondering what kind of stories you like," Siesta put in with a saucy smile.

"High adventure, derring-do, and farce if it's not too mean-spirited," he responded.

She pouted. "That's all?"

He regarded her with a raised eyebrow. "I'm sorry, did you think I would admit to anything unbecoming in the company of women?"

"You hold to noble standards in your diversions?" Louise asked, sounding a bit relieved.

"Uh-" Jason broke off. "Actually, where I'm from nobles have a reputation for unrestrained lechery."

"Like Germanians, you mean." His little mistress shook her head. "The tales of Easterling art are . . . even Zerbst would blush at them, surely!"

The memory of the busty redhead at the Goddess Temple Inn, stepping out of the water without any attempt to cover herself, was not a prudent one to use to counter Louise's claim. Besides, there were better data available. "Perhaps more like Count Motte."

Her mouth shut, her gaze turned downward, and she didn't seem inclined to argue further.

"Anyway," he went on, "I'll be happy to read to you both, but can I finish lunch first? And isn't there a lunch coming up for you too, Louise?"

She nodded slowly, still looking downward.

"Now, I've proved I can feed myself directly from the pot, so can I have my bowl and spoon so I can eat without making a mess all over my face?"

Siesta sighed dolefully, but surrendered the eating implements.

---

There was enough stew left over for his supper, even after stuffing himself, so Jason put the lid back on the pot once he finished and stood up.

"Alright," he said, stepping over to the buckets and using a bit of the remaining water to give his face a quick wash. "Louise, looks like you're about done yourself, so shall we get started with the story?"

His little mistress hesitated, then quickly glanced up and nodded, before returning to the pastry that was her dessert and finishing it up with quick bites.

"And you'll come sit with us on the bed like last time, won't you?" Siesta importuned.

As an idea, it has its attractions, but . . . ["Could you pull rank and demand to sit in the middle, like last time?"]

Louise twitched, then swallowed the last of her dessert and stood up. "Yes, he will. Here, I'll go in the middle."

The maid didn't look entirely pleased, but didn't object out loud.

Jason didn't say anything either, as he climbed into the bed on his little mistress's right side. She was avoiding meeting his eyes, she was being rather reticent both verbally and telepathically, and he was having a hard time figuring out how to approach whatever the issue was.

Because if the issue is how we were kissing again last night, there is no safe way to approach it. 'Bout all we can do is hope the humor in this story translates well enough to distract her.

"Alright," he said when they were all arranged. "Some quick explanation. Go high enough and the air thins to nothing, the sky turns blacker than night, and not only do the stars become brighter than anything that can be seen from ground, other stars are revealed that were too faint to be seen at all.

"Go farther still, a very great distance, and the sun recedes until it is no more than one star among countless others, and it becomes evident that within this great nothingness many stars are paired with their own worlds."

Louise inhaled sharply.

"What is it, little mistress?" Jason asked, looking down at the top of her head, wishing he dared to wrap an arm around her and have her lean against his shoulder.

"You're speaking of Brimir's holy Void," she said, in a tone of wondering awe. Then, with the air of quotation: "'Other lands have I spoken of, under strange skies and alien suns, and there are others yet to be revealed, for all dwell within my Void, worlds without end.'"

He blinked. "I . . . hadn't realized that you knew of other worlds." Dammit, if we read the local equivalent of the Bible, would we have gotten details on wormhole magic? Even if it's lost knowledge, if the Headmaster is doing research along those lines with the artifacts he hoards-

"Well, you are foreign, so you wouldn't know of them," she responded, a touch condescendingly.

It was hard not to laugh.

"But we lost the right to travel to those other lands and worlds when the First Lords were forsaken," Siesta quietly commented.

Louise made a discontented noise. "That's true," she grudgingly admitted. Then she glanced up at him for a moment. "But how do your people ascend to the Void? Airships can't travel to where the air thins for very long. The higher you go, the faster your windstones are exhausted, and even if you're above the White Isle you can't ascend that much higher."

"Fire, to use the very, very short explanation," Jason replied. "A lot of fire. Made with mundane alchemy, and there's a book called Ignition that I had back home that goes into some rather hair-raising details. I wish I had a copy on my phone, to show Mr. Colbert, so he'd have some idea of just how dangerous things can get when experimenting with engines.

"Now, the truth is, my people haven't developed the tools to travel beyond the governing of our own star. We have guesses about what might work, but each guess requires so much work to try out that it's been slow going. Anyway, the story I've picked out," he continued, holding up the phone for a moment, "makes some pretty unlikely guesses about what it might be like, because those guesses made it easier for the author to write adventure."

"Why would people tell stories that make impossible guesses?" his little mistress asked, a frown clear in her voice.

"Because some of us have the hunger to visit other worlds, to walk beneath those alien suns your Brimir mentioned." He paused, a familiar wave of melancholy passing over him. 'Space, the final frontier.' Piss-poor sci-fi, if we're being honest, but Stewart's Shakespearean voice in the opening credits was-! "We'll live, grow old, and die with our heads turned upward, staring at stars we'll never be able to visit ourselves . . . but the stories help. A little."

Jason shook himself. "Anyway, think ships, but instead of water or air, they travel through the Void. Sealed tight, to keep the air in, and with great engines of fire to permit them to travel. Oh, and you know how I said I liked farce, sometimes? That's what this is, a farce of circumstance. If things seem silly, well, that's how the story was set up, to justify events becoming very silly.

"So. A Ship Named Francis. Chapter One: Siberia is a Concept. 'Sean Tyler tapped on the open door to the sickbay and . . .'"

---

"'. . . "Tester," a nasally voice said over the enunciator, "spare us this day from Your Tests.

"'"Please, Tester, don't let any of the airlocks blow out . . ."'"

By the time Jason was done quoting the list of disasters that Chaplain Olds prayed to avert (and incidentally refreshing the awful possibilities in the minds of the crew), imitating the nasal whine of the chaplain all the while, both girls were shaking with helpless and slightly horrified laughter.

And when he got to the end of the section, where Tyler wondered just how much worse it could get, Siesta snorted.

"That always means things are about to get worse," she explained, when he glanced over at her.

"Ah," he replied. "The local storytellers already know about that trick."

She started snickering again. "'Tester, spare us this day,'" she replied, trying for a nasal voice herself, and that set Louise off laughing again.

---

"'. . . "He didn't know if it was the reactor alarm or not," he said, giggling helplessly. "He's the captain, and he didn't know. Hah-hah. Hah-hah, hee. Uhn hah, Oh My God . . ."'"

The girls proved that they'd heard enough to learn the pattern, for they joined Jason for the next line without prompting.

"'"Tester, spare us this day from your Tests . . ."'"

---

There was a pause after Jason finished the story.

Then: "Is there more?" Louise demanded.

"Weeeeeeell," he replied, then hesitated. "Not about those characters specifically. It's a side-story for a much, much longer saga."

"So, you'll be reading us that, next." Siesta said. It was not a request.

"Tell you what, I'll read Let's Go To Prague. Same saga, but different characters, and it'll be a bit closer to the kind of adventures Pierre the Pirate sometimes has . . ."

---

"More!"

"Yes, more!"

"Sorry girls, I'm afraid the full saga is too long, even to get started on." Hell, with the novels clocking in at 100K+, they might think they're too long to try to read on their own. "That said, when Mr. Colbert has a working typewriter I'm going to try to transcribe some of the books stored on my phone, and these'll be among them. If I can find the time, 'cause we're probably going to be training hard this summer."

The maid pouted and tossed her hair, clearly disappointed, but then Louise looked over and up at her. "He'll find time," she promised.

"Wonderful!" Siesta got off the bed and stood up. "If you're done reading, are you ready to eat some more? They said it was best if you had the entire pot."

Jason glanced out the window. It was later in the afternoon than he'd realized: Once the girls started providing a laugh track, the reading had slowed down considerably. "I suppose I could eat. We're not going to have any silliness about whether I can feed myself this time, right?"

The stew had cooled, and was considerably less appetizing, but he managed to finish it by the time a light supper arrived for Louise and Siesta. And holy hell, had she arranged to try to hang out with him all afternoon, just the two of them? (Before he'd gotten his little mistress to come back and act as a chaperone, at least?)

It seemed so, and she lingered for as long as she could before reluctantly taking her leave, carrying the remnants of the meals with her.

Which left Jason and Louise alone together, except his little mistress had continued to act subdued and uncomfortable, once the amusement of the stories wore off a bit. Which was not an auspicious sign for what was to come, so his heart began pounding, and his mouth suddenly felt dry to the point of choking.

Speaking of which, that stew was full of liver, kidney, onion, garlic, and our mouth probably tastes like a sewer right now.

So he got a drink of water to rinse his mouth out, brushed his teeth, and gargled mouthwash.

Louise, seeing that last, went as still as a statue.

Something about her expression made him want to delay just a bit longer, so he took the mouse statue and set it on the windowsill. Its eyes weren't glowing, so at least they had some expectation of privacy. Whichever way the evening went, that was probably a good thing.

But all in all, his activities didn't take nearly enough time to settle his heart back down.

He stared at her, not knowing what to say, and she stared back, equally quiet.

But after last night, we can't go back to pretending nothing's going on and stealing affection from each other.

Finally: "The Headmaster suggested training under Mr. Colbert, to see what I can do with the powers I unlocked last night."

His little mistress nodded carefully. "That seems wise."

"And about last night-"

"Jason!" Louise interrupted, with a pained expression.

Except she didn't seem to know how to go on.

So he went on himself. "You might have to punish me once more, little mistress, because I must confess that I'm very tempted to go over there and kiss you again."

Her expression grew even more pained . . . but then she snorted, almost despite herself. "Don't make me want to laugh!" she pleaded.

"But I like it when you laugh," he told her in a husky voice.

She winced. "Jason, we-"

This was not going well, but there wasn't any turning back now. "So, Louise, I need to know if I have your approval."

She froze, with a sharp intake of breath.

He waited for her to respond.

Soon she reddened, shut her eyes and bowed her head, her mouth moving but making no sound.

He continued to wait, his heart pounding harder than ever, scarcely daring to breathe.

Then his little mistress raised her head, eyes opening . . . were those unshed tears? "To . . ." she started, and her breath caught in what was almost a sob. "T-to even s-suggest such a sh-shameful . . ."

DAMMIT TO HELL!

"Yes, of course," he replied as his heart plummeted, so she wouldn't have to actually say her rejection out loud. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"Jason!" she snapped, glaring at him through teary eyes, her face flushed with rage.

Oh. Oh shit. This is about to go worse than we'd ever feared.

"I-I, I . . . y-you impossible man!" she shouted, panting for breath in the intensity of her fury. "I a-am-"

Then, despite moving her mouth, her voice cut off and she seemed unable to speak.

"Don't hurt yourself," he told her. And we are not going to cry! "I'll just-"

"Stop!" Louise commanded in a harsh whisper, her face more crimson than ever. "I am," she went on, still in that terrible whisper, her throat evidently not cooperating, "v-very . . . tempted to, t-to-"

'Tempted'? What? "Little mistress?"

She shut her eyes again – and yes, those were tears that her eyelids squeezed out, to trickle down her face – and looked away. "I am v-very," she gasped, and then continued in such a soft whisper that he could barely hear her, "tempted t-to . . . to g-grant it!"

Grant 'it'. Wait, grant approval? You mean that wasn't rage that was making you blush? The leaden weight of his broken heart lifted from his stomach in an instant.

Grinning so broadly it made his cheeks hurt, Jason walked over to her, as quietly as he could but with a definite spring to his steps, and knelt down so that their faces were level with each other. He reached out, and if she trembled when his hand cupped her cheek, a moment later she gave out a shuddering sigh and let him guide her head to face him once more.

"So tell me, Louise," he murmured, his voice husky once more, "how tempted are you?"

Her eyes opened, and she gave him a hopeless and tear-stained look, long and longing-

-then cupped his cheeks with her hands, and leaned in.

The instant their lips brushed, she flinched back, trembling once more. But then her expression firmed, and she leaned back in and this time did not flinch.

His other hand went around to rest at the base of her neck, and her hands were gentle velvet as they snaked around to cling to his back and neck, and if their mouths were both closed it didn't matter, because this wasn't about titillation. This was communication. Confirmation. Commitment.

Finally they broke for air. Her eyes had closed again, but when Louise opened them, and saw him smiling at her, his heart giddy and soaring, she lunged for him once more, this time pressing herself to him in as tight a hug as she could manage as well.

And as soon as Jason tightened his embrace of her to match, she leaned forward and went partly limp, apparently wanting him to hold her up.

Finally she pulled back from his lips, just far enough to rest her forehead against his.

"This can't be happening," she mumbled. "It's impossible!"

"Before I was summoned, I'd have said that everything that's happened this spring is impossible," he responded. "But if you mean us, I am not sorry it's happening, my little . . . my dearest little lady."

She slumped against him even more, her lips brushing his again but her weight becoming more than a little inconvenient to support. So he got to his feet, picking her up in a bridal carry as he did so, and sat down on one of the chair, with his little mistress cradled firmly in his lap.

"There," he smirked. "If I'm going to hold you up, this will be much more convenient."

Louise looked up at him through her eyelashes with a demure expression. "Convenient for what?" she breathed, proving that she hadn't forgot a thing about how to do a 'bedroom' voice from the Charming Faerie Inn.

His smirk broadened, and when he tilted her head back he could see the answering smile playing at her lips, before they parted as his descended upon her.

She tasted like the chocolate that had coated her pastry.

And part of him wanted to push forward with all the urgency of a thirsty man spotting an oasis in the desert. But she didn't need to be forced beyond her comfort zone, not when he could gently show her how lips could be used to tease and excite, and if she liked it maybe he could offer the very tip of his tongue-

["It is as nice as I'd dreamed!"]

Jason's eyes widened in surprise. (Not enough surprise to pull away, though.) Then they widened further as he felt her tongue dart forward, almost shyly, to softly probe his lips. ["You've dreamed about kissing me?"]

Perhaps it was his imagination, but it felt like there was maybe some increased heat coming from her cheeks. ["I . . . Jessica did it first, the cheat!"]

["She-?"]

["That last day at the Inn, she kissed you and it looked almost like she was eating your mouth!"]

Don't laugh, it'll break the kiss! ["Are you saying I should have offered you a goodnight kiss, after we returned?"]

["'Offer'?"] Louise pulled back just far enough to give him a mock-scowl. ["No well-bred noblewoman would offer to kiss a commoner."]

He blinked. ["Uh-"]

["And especially not offer to kiss like a lover. But you didn't seem to notice me using your fire-mint wash, or how I made sure my wand was too far away to grab if you held me down-"]

She broke off, giggling at his appalled expression, and pressed her lips back against his. ["And now I've succumbed to the vile blandishments of my lecherous familiar! If only my wand weren't too far away to seize, that I might defend myself!"]

Jason snorted. ["I think you've been reading too many of Siesta's books."]

Louise giggled again, against his lips, but then sighed. ["We truly shouldn't be doing this. Only the most depraved nobles try to carry on with their familiars."]

She did not, however, pull back.

["Isn't that because almost all familiars are beasts? Where I'm from, lying with beasts is considered exceptionally perverse too."] Hell, even furries mostly want to have sex with people in animal costumes, rather than the real thing. ["I'm not your pet, I'm your companion. The difference matters, I think."]

She made a growling little noise with her throat, before breaking off and burying her face in his chest. "Even as a commoner, this is going to be impossible. We, we can't-"

"I can't be your dirty little secret?" he interrupted, after a glance over at the mouse statue to verify that the Headmaster's spy remained absent. "Wales and Henrietta are making it work, at least for a little while."

"You aren't dirty," Louise grumbled. "Or little."

"Well, no," Jason replied with a chuckle. "Would it be better if I was?"

"It would be easier." She raised her head slightly to give his neck a tiny nip, apparently an excuse to run her tongue lightly along his stubble. "Why do you have to be so obsessed with keeping clean? Is that the only matter your rule was concerned with?"

"My 'rule'?"

"Your discipline. As a scholar."

"Oh." That sounded almost monk-like. Are commoner scholars connected to the clergy, around here? "To be honest, not so much. It's just that this spring I started living with a woman, so keeping myself clean became very important."

She twitched. "That was for me?"

"Well, so I wouldn't be offensive by my very presence. So, yes. In essence."

"But," she looked up at him with an exasperated expression, "you brought soap for your body, and soap for your hair, and soap for shaving, and soap for your armpits, and even soap for your teeth! And then you rub your body with spirits afterwards, and you even have that fire-mint wash to clean the rest of your mouth!"

"Yeah, they're different things that need cleaning, so different kinds of . . . okay, yes, staying clean is important where I'm from. I just didn't do all of it as frequently, when I was living by myself."

Louise rolled her eyes. "Obviously. You almost looked ready to throw up after you brought up the buckets the first time."

"It was good exercise, although I didn't need buckets to fetch water to wash with back in America. But that's not what I meant by 'dirty little secret', and I think you know that."

She scowled. "Jean-Jacques Wardes is the right kind of man for me to marry. You . . . convincing my parents to approve will be impossible!"

"Yet here we are," Jason replied mildly.

"I know! But once they find out-!" Louise shook her head and buried her face in his chest again. ["They won't support us! You know they won't!"]

["I know, which means I'm going to be your dirty little secret for at least a while. But doesn't her Highness want to give me some sort of title as a freelance knight?"]

["Yes, she'll make you a Chevalier as soon as she has a reason she can make public. But that's not enough to be able to-"]

She broke off and raised her head, suddenly looking doubtful. "You said you wanted my approval, but do you mean-?"

"I mean that I love you," Jason murmured, stroking the rose waterfall of her hair, "and even if we have to keep it a secret for now I want to court you, and as soon as I have enough status I want to marry you, your betrothal to Jean-Jacques be damned!"

Louise nodded, took a shuddering breath, and gave him a quick kiss before resting her head against his shoulder. "But my parents aren't just petty nobles holding a single estate. Even if I'm not their heir, you'll need to be more than just a Chevalier to be able to court me publicly."

"I figured. Good thing I get to cheat by hanging around you as your familiar."

She snorted.

"But once I'm on that bottom rung, I can present some of the things I'm working on with Mr. Colbert to the Germanian Emperor, and be rewarded with a title that way."

Her eyes widened. "A Germanian title? How, how long have you-?"

"Didn't know it was possible to buy a title until we captured de Montferat. Didn't know it was possible for a commoner to get one until Kirche let it slip when we were trading taunts this one time."

"Don't make me feel like I should be grateful to Zerbst," Louise growled. "Does Mr. Colbert know you're seeking a title?"

"He knows and approves, yes. He's even guessed that I'm hoping to win your hand. That said . . . I get that your parents wouldn't find a Germanian title to be all that impressive, since we mere commoners can buy them, but once the countries are united, would they have to respect it enough to . . . well, to not kill me for wanting to marry you?"

She didn't answer.

Which wasn't reassuring.

"Little mistress?"

"Nobles look down on Germania, because they've always had weaker mages, and their magic is weaker than ever with the Easterlings grafting themselves into the noble families, but their alchemy makes them a powerful nation despite that. If a Germanian came looking to court me or one of my sisters, my parents would probably run him off, but . . ."

She trailed off, looking very thoughtful. "That would be a grievous insult, once Tristain and Germania unite. They would have to respect the title and hope I'd turn you down."

"And I'd be hoping you wouldn't."

"But even if they couldn't order you away from me directly . . . my mother can be very frightening."

He shrugged. "I figured I'd have to deal with scary in-laws. As long as they aren't actively throwing spells at me, I think I can handle it."

Louise nodded. Then flinched and pressed her face into his chest yet again. ["It might work, especially if we don't have to depend on them for estates . . . but that means Henrietta will have married Atma Tharoor."]

["That's true. She said she was still going to, even after being with Wales."]

["I know, but if he's as awful as she says, he's going to make her miserable! I . . . I wish she could marry as it pleased her to."]

["Honestly, little mistress, so do I. Even if it would make getting a title that much harder. But she has made her choice, and I'm glad she made it before I met her."]

Louise responded with an unhappy noise, but her arms around Jason tightened a little.

"I'm glad I didn't know until after it was decided," she finally admitted, raising her head. "And that we didn't come to this before, either."

"Fair enough." He bent down to collect another kiss.

["But,"] she went on, ["what do I do about Jean-Jacques? I still . . . I haven't liked what I've seen of him recently, but when I remember how kind he was when I was younger . . ."]

Ah, the issue of young love. ["Want to hear a confession?"]

["A confession? What do you mean?"]

["When I was a little younger than you, there was this girl who I fell in love with. I was ready to plan my entire future around her, but then her parents moved far away, and I was convinced I would die of a broken heart."]

With his arms around her, Louise's flinch was very obvious. ["You're in love with someone else?"]

["Not anymore. A little while later I met another girl who was . . . well, she was quite fond of the magic tricks my Dad had taught me, and it wasn't that long before I decided I was over the first girl."]

["Your heart was that inconstant?"] Louise's voice was surprisingly disdainful. ["And what happened to her?"]

Hang on, aren't we breaking one of the rules? The one about mentioning previous girlfriends? Shit! Maybe this wasn't a good idea.

But he'd started, so he needed to finish. ["Ultimately? Nothing. We spent time together, but the year after that she had the opportunity to do something she'd wanted all her life, and that took up so much of her free time that she didn't have any left for me. So she stopped spending time with me. The break became official just before a holiday my people have to celebrate romantic love. In fact it became official when she refused to make plans with me for that holiday. And after that I spent some time moping around the house, until Dad took me out camping for a week, and we spent a lot of time fishing and talking about getting over people when things don't work about."] And that's a good stopping point. No need to go into the psycho we lost our virginity to as a college freshman. Sheesh, if we'd known about the hot/crazy matrix first . . .

Although his little mistress was also a redhead (or rosecrown, close enough) with a temper, but hopefully she'd prove an exception.

Exception or not, she was also looking up at him suspiciously. "So you think I should stop caring for Jean-Jacques."

"I'm not asking you to hate him," Jason said as mildly as he could. "But if you're not going to marry him, and I assume you aren't going to have a torrid affair with him-"

Louise rolled her eyes. "Until I officially break the engagement with him, you're the one I'd be having a torrid affair with."

"Okay, fine. But those two girls? I still wish them both well in their lives. Which no longer have anything to do with me. And once Dad convinced me to let them go, it took a lot less time than I expected before I wasn't in love with either of them. And yes, until then I hadn't truly given up the first girl, even when I was spending time with the second. But it's been years since I felt anything more than a bit of wistfulness for either one. Even before I met you, if one of them had suddenly re-appeared in my life I'm not convinced I'd want to fall back in love.

"So I guess that's my point, although Dad said it better. Gotta wonder if he practiced, first. Anyway, you will move on with your life, even if it doesn't seem like it'll be easy. But if you willingly say goodbye to those childhood dreams-"

She sighed. "I see what you mean. And it might not be that hard, either."

"It might not?" A note of something rumbled into Jason's voice. "Louise, what has he done?""

"Nothing much! He hasn't . . . I don't know where to begin."

"How about the 'nothing much' where he did anything you didn't want?"

"We already talked about that."

"Oh?"

"How he was pressing me, to tell him about you, or to marry him, or-"

She broke off, shaking her head.

He patted her back. "Right, you did tell me about that."

"And ever since we returned to the palace, the way he acts around me reminds me of Eléonore."

"Your sister? The one that's mean to you?!"

"Jason, please calm down!"

Her distressed cry alerted him to the fact that he was snarling, and tensing up quite a bit.

"Sorry about that. But I don't think I'm going to get along too well with your sister."

"No, you won't," Louise agreed. "And Captain Wardes was polite enough when we returned from Albion, but then after he learned that Henrietta's letter was destroyed he was furious, and ever since he's seemed . . . cold. It made me feel almost like a rabbit caught out in the open, with a hawk circling overhead." Her mouth twisted. "Her Highness kept encouraging me to spend time with him, but I haven't wanted to. Even though I knew we should reacquaint ourselves, as an engaged couple."

"Well, if he was fool enough to miss what should have been his for the taking," Jason replied with a smile, "I'll not complain. And that's something else Dad pointed out to me. People can change over the years and in ways you don't anticipate, especially if you stay apart. So he was gentle when you were children, but not so much anymore, and that can make it easier to say goodbye to those childhood memories."

"Mm. If he took me as seriously as you do, I'd have fallen in love with him all over again. Instead he wants to treat me like a stupid child!"

That got a chuckle. "His loss, my gain. Of course, he might have been warned about you and Henrietta getting up to mischief together. I mean, if I had to keep her safe I'd probably be pretty grumpy a lot of the time myself." Although given the need for security- "So how did the two of you sneak out last night, anyway?"

"Well, first we-" Then Louise shut up for a moment. "Maybe I shouldn't say. What if we need to use it again?"

"I'm not asking you to tell him- oh. You think you might need to get past me at some point."

She giggled at his tone, but nodded with a mischievous smirk.

Jason sighed. "You know, when I woke up today I didn't think I'd be feeling anything like sympathy for Captain Wardes, but you two are a menace to yourselves."

"No we-!"

Louise was quiet for a long moment. "Didn't you say you had a surprise for me when I got back?"

He chuckled. No real response? Fine, we'll allow the evasion. "Yeah, it's that scroll over on the armoire."

She nodded, pulled out her wand – wait, didn't she claim that it was out of reach when she was 'helplessly trapped' by us? – and Levitated the indicated scroll over to the table. Then, apparently noticing his quizzical look, shrugged unrepentantly. "I was already comfortable."

"Right." A small pouch slipped out as he opened the scroll – it turned out to be filled with tiny seeds – and Jason frowned thoughtfully as he scanned the spell that the Headmaster wanted his little mistress to try out. "Okay, this is called Flowering Bounty, and there's what I think is a little poem about the balance of the elements . . . but if I'm not mistaken this is actually three spells, not one."

"What?" Louise growled, but rotated to face the table.

Which caused Jason to wince silently as her hip ground into his lap. Their make-out session had him, er, standing at attention. Which so far she hadn't seemed to notice, but the forces she was applying just then were not how things were supposed to go together. As soon as she gets up we'll use a call of nature as an excuse to get everything untangled. Hopefully that'll be soon!

But not immediately. The first spell his little mistress tried – the simplest – caused the seed she'd targeted to explode.

"This next one," she scowled, "looks like a Square. I don't see how I can hope to cast it!"

"Try anyway?"

A second explosion.

Then came the third and longest spell – "What manner of crazed praestum is this!" – which took at least a minute for her to chant.

And resulted in the third seed flaring up and then crumbling to ash.

"That was different," Jason offered.

"I still failed!" Louise retorted. "What's the point of sending me strange spells to try if they never work!?"

"It's probably just a matter of practice, again," he pointed out. "And we'll be able to ask Mr. Colbert for help, when we see him tomorrow."

"I suppose." She sighed. "More work with cantrips, then."

---

The remainder of the evening went smoothly enough – and promising his little mistress a kiss for each improving cantrip made for a great deal of merriment – until it came time to prepare for bed. It then became apparent that Louise hadn't really thought things through.

She'd mostly undressed, and Jason turned back to her, chemise in hand as she shrugged out of her undergown . . . and for the first time in quite a while they noticed that she was standing in from of him wearing nothing but her culottes.

As she had done most every evening that he'd helped her dress for bed. All spring.

But for some reason, tonight it was impossible not to pay attention to the gently rounded curves, high and firm on her chest, the delicate pink-

And whoa! When she blushes it goes all the way down to her belly-button!

Jason couldn't help but smile. Just a bit. "So, little mistress . . . I'm going to guess that it is like having a boy in your room?"

Louise stared at him for a moment longer, blushing even more furiously. And then she whimpered as she quickly covered her chest with her hands and spun around.

He waited for her to say something.

Or think something at him.

Anything.

Finally he rolled his eyes. "Little mistress? It's okay." ["Yes, I think you're very pretty. But I'm not going to pounce on you like a starving man, even if I was staring just now."] "Can I go ahead and put this on you?"

She was silent for another long moment, and then: "Jason, you've been thinking about getting a noble title for a long time, haven't you?"

"Uh . . . yes, that's true."

["Does that mean you've been thinking a-about, about me all this time? N-not, not just as your master?"]

He blinked. ["To be honest, if this were like some of the adventure tales of my people, we'd have been lovers within a week of my being summoned. So I was . . . aware of possibilities. But it didn't seem like the familiar bond between us was forcing us into anything, so I figured I'd wait and see what happened."]

She stiffened. ["You didn't just wait."]

"You don't win anyone's heart by just waiting. Although I did try to walk softly around the subject. The noble-commoner divide alone was enough to be a problem." Jason tilted his head. "But we don't need to avoid talking about it anymore, Louise. So is there something you want to ask me?"

"I . . ." she shook her head.

Okay, brain, you're up. Puzzle this out. What do the clues point to?

. . .

Dammit, brain.

"Little mistress?" He tried putting a hand on her shoulder, but she flinched and he jerked it back. "Look, even if you can't spit it out it's obvious that there's a problem, but even with you turned around, well. Look, your back is also very pretty, and I could spend a lot of time happily kissing your shoulders, your neck, your spine . . . I just can't think very clearly while you're standing there like that, front or back. So can I please put this on you?"

She shivered as he spoke of kissing her, but then took a deep breath, and then slowly put her arms down. "Jason, I think I want to wear one of your shirts tonight."

Really? "Okay."

But something was obviously still bothering her, so after dressing her picked Louise up again and sat her sideways in one of the chairs.

"What are you doing?" she wanted to know, turning to look at him as he sat down in the other chair behind her.

"You seem tense, and I want to help you feel better, so I was going to rub your shoulders to help you relax. Your back too, if you wanted it."

"Oh." Louise bit her lip, then nodded and turned back around. "My shoulders first. I'll tell you if the rest is permissible."

"As you wish."

---

"Ooooh!"

"Uh, little mistress?" We've been keeping it gentle, that couldn't have been too rough!

"Keep going! And then, yes, rub my back when you're done."

"Oh." Jason smirked. "As you wish."

---

["You do have wicked magic in your fingertips!"] Louise accused, as she scooted into his lap and tilted her head upward to bestow upon his lips the punishment that his unholy efforts merited. ["What about my legs?"]

Um. Hell, we did it before. Just quit at mid thigh.

---

["You're stopping there?"]

["Since you aren't wearing culottes? Seems for the best. Here, hold out your arms, I'll get them next."]

---

Limp as she was in his lap, Jason could feel the quivers all along her body as he finished by gently stroking her palms. And since she wasn't looking at him, there was no need to suppress a smug grin. Intimate spots aren't only found at the private parts, after all. ["Just your scalp left, and then it's time to get you into bed."]

["My scalp?"]

["Yes, where all this lovely soft hair grows."] Which, gently lifted out of the way as he began the final bit of the massage, happened to leave her earlobes uncovered. Kisses behind which made her quiver all over again.

["You wicked, wicked familiar."]

---

Definitely a snuggler, Jason thought as he carried Louise to bed and tucked her in. Won't complain about it, even if she wasn't quite ready for second base. She likes us holding her, so when she is ready-!

He turned out the light, lay down on his mattress, closed his eyes . . . and then grunted as his little mistress dropped what had to be a substantial percentage of her weight on his chest as she lay down next to him.

"Wha-?" he wheezed.

"You know I've always slept better next to someone," she mumbled, burying her face into his chest yet again.

"Okay, but I don't think it's wise to-"

He cut off with no small sense of shock as the pull of her summons blossomed again in his mind – and there she was, right next to him, and it felt like he was exactly where he needed to be.

You fight dirty, Louise. Still, he truly didn't mind her being a snuggler, quite the opposite in fact, and if she was this insistent . . .

"Alright, little mistress." He bent down just far enough to give her a final goodnight kiss. "Sleep well."

Her wordless reply, a soft, contented, humming sigh, banished any lingering reluctance in his mind. And sleep soon followed.

---

A/N:

Magic Items: Circumspectus – detects vermin, such as mice. Including (hopefully) Headmaster Osmond's familiar.