"Louise, I… have a favor to ask of you."

"Anything, Princess."

"Please, Louise. Just call me Anne, as you always have."

"I couldn't!"

"But you did. In your room. Moments ago."

Louise cursed her exhaustion-induced lack of propriety. But… well… if she'd gone that far already… "Very well… Anne." Curiously, being able to call the princess by her old nickname sent an odd thrill up Louise's spine.

Henrietta clapped her hands together, quickly and joyfully. "You have no idea how happy that makes me." Her smile dropped into a wince. "Though, perhaps you'll be less inclined when you hear what I have to say."

Louise reached out, then hesitated. What do you want to do, Louise? Slowly but surely, her hand rested comfortingly on Henrietta's shoulder. "I… forgive me, but that could never happen."

Henrietta seemed a little happier, at least. "It's… somewhat private. You… know the situation in Albion?"

It was hard not to know it. "Reconquista," Louise said with disgust.

"From what our agents have gathered, the Albion crown are losing the war." Henrietta shook her head. "And from there, they believe that Reconquista will attack the mainland."

"No…"

"Yes. Tristain could not possibly hold against them. And so…" Henrietta took a deep breath. "I am engaged to be married to Albrecht III, King of Germania."

"Oh, Anne!" Louise put an arm around her friend, splashing the bathwater around. "Will you be okay?"

Henrietta's fists clenched tight. "I will do my duty to protect Tristain. There is one problem. I sent a letter to Prince Wales years ago. One that could threaten my engagement with Albrecht."

A love letter. "I… see."

"And… In spite of the years since we've last spoken, you're still the friend I remember. I… know I can trust you to retrieve the letter and destroy it."

Louise almost spoke without thinking, but then Musician's voice rose in her head again. What do you want to do?

No! It's… not just because of the Rule of Steel. Really! The princess… Anne… is my friend! She still thinks of a failure like me that way even after all this time! I will not betray her trust!

And… even if I'm headed into a war zone, Musician will protect me. This is something I can do. Something I can accomplish with my own two hands… right?

"I will not let you down," Louise said in a small voice.

"Thank you thank you thank you!" Henrietta said loudly, pulling Louise tightly against her.

"Anne! Princess!" Louise blushed brightly, trying to squirm away as Henrietta pulled her naked body against her own. "This is… inappropriate!"

Henrietta laughed and hugged tighter. "Are we not friends? We used to bathe together often, remember?"

"That was before!" Before you had breasts and I had hormones.

"Relax, dear Louise. We're both girls."

That's the problem!


Louise pushed her way into her room, looking like death had passed her by.

"That's an interesting melody on you," Musician commented from his pile of hay.

Louise cursed her own body as a blush worked its way to her face. Of course he'd notice. A strange but familiar-sounding instrument began playing. "What is that sound?" she asked, trying to change the subject.

"Saxophone. An instrument of emotional energy, lust, and love."

Louise couldn't imagine blushing any harder, but here she was, doing just that. "It's not what you're thinking."

He chuckled. "Of course it's not."

"It's not!" she insisted.

"And why couldn't it be?" The music was laughing at her; she was sure of it now.

"It… couldn't! She's the princess, I'm just a failure."

"Familiar matches the mage~" he said, denying her lack of self-confidence in a lilting tone.

"We're not that close!" she tried again.

"I'm sure Anne thinks you are, dear Louise."

She was a tomato now. "You… heard?"

Now her bastard of a familiar was openly grinning at her. "Musicians have good ears, you know."

"I can't! We can't! We're both girls! It's… forbidden!"

"Louise Françoise. I took the time to actually learn about your Founder the other day. I know for certain that it's not forbidden."

"But my mother-"

"Can go screw herself with a corkscrew."

There was a snort. Louise turned slightly to see Siesta holding her mouth and blushing with embarrassment. "How long have you been here?"

Siesta avoided her eyes and mumbled something.

"What?"

"…The whole time."

The horror. Louise turned to the cause of her mortification. "Musician…"

"What?" he asked oh-so-innocently. "The princess is a nice catch. It's not like it's the red-haired cowgirl."

"Red-haired cow- Kirche?" The music jumped in agreement, and Louise began retching at the thought of-

Siesta thumped her on the back a few times. When she could finally breath, she pointed at Musician. "Don't. DO. That."

He grinned. "Glad to see you're feeling better. Now. Mind filling me on world politics? Germania? Albion? Reconquista?"

Ah, the old 'change the subject to avoid trouble' technique. Only she'd be very pleased to change the subject right now. You win this time, familiar.


Louise carefully folded a blouse and packed it away. She moved away as Siesta did the same for one of her dresses. If nothing else, Louise could admit that having a live-in personal maid was a bit useful. Not to mention it kind of made her happy to work with someone else, even on something so mundane.

She looked over her shoulder at Musician, who didn't need to pack. He basically owned nothing as far as she could tell. Except maybe that battleaxe, which went… somewhere… when he wasn't using it.

The god swayed smoothly in an imaginary breeze, bending to a relaxing sound accompanied by an odd clicking. Well, at least she was getting used to his peculiarities. Though she still didn't know him all too well. A foreign deity with esoteric abilities who spent much of his time teasing and pranking others. Phenomenal amounts of power, no impulse control, but also no higher reason than his own desires.

But all that was surface-level. Who was he, really? Where did he come from? Which peoples did he preside over, and what were they like?

As much as he was a god of music, he was more than that. He appreciated beauty. He had some concept of conventions and moral code, which may have been part of the reason he'd called out Guiche for cheating back when he arrived. He liked her, encouraged her, helped her.

And when she'd told him about the situation in Albion, he'd almost seemed to recognize it. She didn't think he'd ask just to humor her. Did Albion exist on other worlds? Had he seen this situation before?

She remembered the vision she'd had, just days after he'd arrived. Worlds upon worlds all consumed by sin and insanity. Hundreds, thousands, each filled with trillions of lives. People who either rejoiced, dancing in horrible, ritualistic movements; or hid away, waiting for their last days to come in a sudden, literal symphony of apocalypse.

Was that the fate that awaited her world?

No. Not while she was still alive. Not while he was her familiar.

She would not let it happen.