Historia clutched the letter to her breast as her eyes were fixed on the ceiling.
"Will you attend today?" Ymir asked. In a rare mood, she sat on the bed like a normal person. "You missed the orientation yesterday."
Historia knew that Ymir could invade her mind at any given moment, but she didn't. Ever since she witnessed the torturing of that man—that beast—she barely had the heart to leave her room, let alone be within Leonhardt's presence. The woman would see through her if she hadn't already.
"I never applied for the Healing Church." Historia finally replied.
Ymir averted her gaze to the ground, thinking. It wasn't hard to connect the dots.
"Your sister loathes the Healing Church and their ambition to overthrow St. Valencia." Ymir quietly admitted. "Byrgenwerth would have never accepted. They haven't accepted anyone in years."
Historia shot up, glaring at Ymir.
"I would've rather lived my life without!" She threw the letter in Ymir's freckled face. It hit her with a pleasing crinkle of paper. "But you've somehow manipulated these bastards into seeking me out and bringing me into the fold! Had you not thought that this would put me in a bad situation?!"
Ymir's mouth formed a tight line as she only stared. It infuriated Historia.
"I am now a part of my sister's largest and most dangerous enemy! How could you—"
"Princess Historia," a knocking came from the servant. "You have correspondence from Miss Leonhardt. She directly spoke to me and implored that it was of high importance and that you should attend as soon as possible."
Historia shut her mouth as the letter was slipped under her door. She listened until the servant left before staring at Ymir. It seemed the entity was beginning to show signs of remorse and regret. Perhaps living amongst humanity was culturing and conditioning her into certain emotions. Historia could hardly doubt that Ymir actually felt shame for what she did—the woman never did!
Historia was too busy ripping open the letter to see or hear Ymir as she floated off the bed and went to the blonde's side.
"Historia," Ymir tried but Historia nearly jumped out of her skin. She cursed and slapped Ymir's arm.
"What did I say about sneaking up on me!?" Historia didn't mean to snap at her more, but she couldn't help it. Ymir had this knack for dragging her into all sorts of mischief and danger. Historia knew she didn't mean it, but it was hard not to be angry when she could die at any moment and Ymir wouldn't even get a slap on the wrists.
"What is it?" Historia gave an exhausted exhale, warning Ymir that this was one of her impatient days.
"I don't think you should fear your sister," Ymir gently held Historia's face in her large hand. "Ever since Old St. Valencia burned down, she has been ill in the mind. I do not say this to bash her, Historia, because you love her and so I must love her, too, but, you are next in line and it's best if you become aware of your lineage."
Historia was still. She knew Ymir hardly ever spoke so serious except when things were about to get awful.
"Ymir… don't do this…" she felt like crying all over again. That night was more than enough to frighten her. She didn't want to think today held anymore surprises. "You keep setting me up… I feel like you're intent on hurting me…"
In a flash, Ymir's hands were cupping Historia's face and forcing her to stare into golden eyes.
"Never. Now, don't ever accuse me of such things again, or I will feel like you're intent on hurting me." She said. With a slow lean, she gave a soft kiss to Historia's forehead. "Now, may I finish?"
Historia took a few seconds but she nodded in agreement as her thumb idly rubbed against the unread letter from Leonhardt.
"Your sister's future is uncertain, Historia, but I can garuntee yours. By doing so, I may be able to save your sister so I must ask, beg, implore—whatever sounds more earnest than that Leonhardt's!—that you trust me and walk this path I've made for you." Ymir's fingers brushed over Historia's skin countless times before releasing the blonde.
"Now," Ymir cleared her throat, moving away with a blush, "how about we get to this letter, yes? I want to see if Leonhardt scandalously poured her perfume into this one, too!"
Historia didn't want to admit it but Ymir was endearing in her own way. For being this awesome, fear-inducing being, Ymir was very easily embarrassed and shy of her own emotions.
"Of course," Historia felt a smile tug on her lips, earning a grin from Ymir as she pulled out the letter.
"Oh? No perfume?" Ymir whiffed at the air. "Perhaps she realized she was too bold the first time! Poor Leonhardt!"
"Oh, you." Historia swatted at the air lightly to shut Ymir up from her teasing. She returned her attention to the letter and read as Ymir peered over Historia's shoulder.
Dear Historia,
Yesterday, I was concerned to see that you did not attend the orientation. I understand from your previous tutors that you were always punctual, so I send this letter in hopes it finds you healthy.
If you're well, I ask that you visit me at your little nook in the garden. I can see why it's your favorite. It will become a good friend of mine as I read St. Valencia's books.
- A. Leonhardt
Leonhardt's writing was beautiful with traces of foreign influences. It was excessively sharp like the iron fences that lined the graveyard, but it was also charming because of it.
Historia was actually surprised. Ymir didn't give some remark like she usually did. Historia peered over her shoulder to see Ymir intently staring back.
"No comments?" Historia didn't know why she asked. It wasn't like she actually wanted to hear one, but it was so uncharacteristic of Ymir to be so… quiet.
"Only one," Ymir let her feet fall silently to the ground as she stood, towering over Historia. Sometimes, Historia forgot just how tall Ymir was. It was breathtaking as it was panicking.
"Will you heed her pleas and begin?" Ymir frowned.
Historia hadn't answered Ymir's worries earlier on whether she'd follow the path Ymir had set for her. She didn't give her a clue on her decision either.
"She asks nicely enough." Ymir was upset by something. Historia could only grin a bit when it dawned on her.
"No, I won't." Historia said but she went to her dresser to get ready.
"Oh?" Ymir walked over, watching Historia search for the right dress. "But, you're getting ready… I thought you weren't going to visit her?"
"I am." Historia stated as she stopped. She turned to Ymir, and, with all her balance, she tiptoed up to cup Ymir's face. "But I am not heeding her pleas. I am walking this path you gave me. It's what you want, is it not?"
Historia could've died.
She honestly could have with the dangerous look Ymir's eyes glinted, but the reddening of her cheeks and her immediately cowering away from Historia's touch had told her otherwise.
"You are ridiculous!" Ymir got after her. Oh, how the tables turned! "You play with words like drunkards play their cards! How awful! I truly chose the wrong, sad orphan to grace my blessings to! Just awful!"
-x-x-x-
"Oh! She's pacing, Historia! Look at her!" Ymir hissed in mirth. "She must be thinking she got jilted once more!"
Historia chose to wore a simple blue summer dress. While there were many at court, her infamous reputation preceded her and gave her a generous amount of distance between her and the people. Nobody wanted to be associated with the ominous bastard that's foretold to ruin the great Kingdom of St. Valencia.
"Sarcastic as usual," Ymir commented on Historia's thoughts. "I will go off and speak with the guests while you two flirt."
"Ymir… don't do anything terrible." Historia warned her. Ymir gave her a charming wink before disappearing into thin air.
Historia shook her head but put her eyes forward again. She was barely able to see into the garden's nook, finding that Leonhardt really was pacing around. She could even hear some garbled mutterings coming from her.
"Thank you for being patient," Historia spoke up as Leonhardt's icy eyes shot up. Immediately, she straightened her back and squared her shoulders.
"Ah!" Leonhardt's voice was full of relief. "I'm glad you could make it, Princess… I was afraid that—well, I was afraid you wouldn't make it."
"I apologize for yesterday. I was feeling very sick." Historia lightly courtsied for Leonhardt. After all, she was an upcoming noblewoman. It would be rude not to. Historia smiled when she saw Leonhardt bow deeply in that weird fashion.
Leonhardt appeared to have reverted to her previous aloof self as she stood at attention.
"I want to congratulate you for being chosen to become a part of the Healing Church. Many seek it out but you seemed to have captured its fleeting attention. Perhaps fate has something for you," Leonhardt put her hands behind her back.
If Leonhardt had known of what Historia and Ymir had witnessed, she made no indication of showing. It made Historia nervous but she didn't let down her guard. Better safe than sorry. Who knew if Ymir would be around to save her.
"Let's go to the library. I've amassed tomes from my personal collection and what's available from the Workshop." She was already walking, leading the way for them.
Many servants gaped and stared at seeing the two walking together. Even some guests were baffled that anyone would approach the outcast Princess. Historia was used to such attention and gossip, but it was evident Leonhardt wasn't. As they rounded the corner into the more secluded chapters of the castle, Leonhardt flicked her cold gaze to Historia and then discreetly glanced over her shoulder.
"Princess," Leonhardt only stared at Historia in the corner of her eye as they were approaching the private library. "It seems that we attract a lot of attention. Are foreigners like me rare?"
Historia was surprised that Leonhardt hadn't heard more about her. It seemed like everyone she ever came into contact with already had a nasty impression of her, but… Annie didn't…
"Not at all, but for the Court? A little." Historia stopped at the doors as Leonhardt pulled them open with ease. It usually took the servants at least ten seconds to haul them open. "However, it isn't because of you. I'm not well liked."
"By the Court?" The huntress followed behind Historia before putting a hand on her lower back. Historia nearly froze if it wasn't for Leonhardt guiding her to sit at the main table. It was stacked with dusty books. Musty scrolls of old and new littered the bases of the towering tomes.
"No." Historia was amazed at all the new knowledge that was before her. It could take a month to get through it all. "By everyone."
Leonhardt was quiet as she observed. Historia wondered what the other woman was thinking, but her expression was unreadable.
"I see." Leonhardt finally said. It gave no light as to what she thought of Historia now. "It's a pity."
Historia frowned, waiting for Leonhardt to inquire further or to shun her like the others.
"You don't seem like a bad person." Leonhardt was unaware of the impact her words were leaving on Historia. She couldn't help but look away at the books as her mentor idly tapped on the table.
"These books will become second-nature to you. It might take a year for you retain all this information. I will only be available as long as the Court's season lasts. Afterwards, I will return to my homeland and you will be brought into the Workshop to finish your studies." Leonhardt smiled when Historia finally got the nerve to look at her again. "However, I have a prediction you'll excel in this literature. Your previous tutors praised your fast learning."
Historia almost laughed. She knew her tutors probably said awful things, too, because it wasn't uncommon for one of them to try and invite her to some poisoned treats. Ymir was happy to oblige and eat them when her tutors weren't looking. It happened so often that people began to whisper in fear that Historia was immune to poison—blood so corrupt that even evilness would dissipate at mere contact.
"I am an avid reader. I have my own research papers and theories," Historia mentioned. "Perhaps these skills will do well in what you ask of me, Leonhardt."
"I won't keep you waiting, then." Leonhardt's smile fell as she got up and strode to the window, gazing out of it. Historia immediately began with the oldest book she could find, appreciating that everything was categorized and dated so well. Leonhardt and the Workshop took their studies serious and Historia even felt excited to learn more, but the nagging guilt kept her true eagerness at bay. She could only think of what Frieda would say or think…
"Pardon," Leonhardt spoke up before Historia could get past the first page, "but, may I inquire as to why part of your city has burned?"
Historia stared at the window, too, wracking her mind for the most intelligent, concise answer she could give. There were several rumors as to what happened, but she knew that the Healing Church had secretly done the burning.
At her sister's command.
She couldn't exactly tell Leonhardt that, but she had an inkling that she might've already knew.
"The outbreak of Ashen Blood had led old St. Valencia into shambles. Many were perishing and turning into beasts because of it. It was quarantined by the Healing Church as they tried to save everyone through blood ministration and slaying the beasts, but we don't know what started the fires. The Healing Church said a rogue band of militia got cornered and released the flames." Historia said, watching Leonhardt for a reaction.
"Mercy on your people," Leonhardt breathed, "what destruction… what came of the Ashen Blood? Does it still persist?"
"No." It felt bitter in her mouth as she glared down at her book. She was reminded why she hated the Healing Church. "The Healing Church had found a cure after a month of the burning. Thanks to my sister's funding, it would have not been possible, but, instead, she was blamed for the burning and the Church was praised as a savior…"
Leonhardt was quiet for a while.
"Mm. That's unfortunate… I will personally see to it that the issue gets resolved within." Leonhardt swiveled on her heel and went to the corner of the library where a trunk was hidden in the shadows. She unlocked and opened it, rummaging through the books and trinkets within until she produced a stack of papers. She went to Historia's side, placing them right in front of her.
"I was asked to overlook this manuscript by a colleague. I enjoy reading but not of these sort of things. Perhaps you can gain an edge over your peers by helping the man publish his findings?" Leonhardt offered, pushing the papers closer to Historia. "But, do tell if I'm overwhelming your workload. It's an offer you can decline."
Historia didn't know what the research was on. The stack had no label or title. Only a date and a hastily, illegible name written on the front.
"I accept." She took it as a chance to prove her intelligence and, maybe, impress Leonhardt. The desire to overachieve and become great amongst the Healing Church was overwhelming Historia now. She wanted nothing better than to rule it and make it succumb to her sister's will. They had wronged them too many times, abusing Frieda's generosity and selflessness.
Frieda had only asked one thing of them…
Leonhardt put a hand on Historia's shoulder.
"Excellent. Hopefully, those papers will be more interesting to you than me. Now, I excuse myself. I must attend a luncheon with some dignitaries."
Historia didn't know what to start first—reading or editing the manuscript? Her learning was time sensitive due to Leonhardt's schedule, but the unknown manuscript was being awaited upon.
Historia rolled her shoulders, exhaling.
"Study." She moved the research off to the side and began to pore over her new studies.
-x-x-x-
"Frieda?" Historia opened the door and closed it behind her. She pressed her back against the doors, waiting for the response, but Frieda was quiet. She never really spoke in this room.
"I wanted to tell you something, Frieda." Historia continued, hoping her sister was actually listening.
At the other end of the dimly lit room was a bed. Frieda sat at the edge of it as her hand ran through Levi's hair.
It had been a long time since he was awake. He had slipped into a deep, undisturbed slumber that he could not wake from. The wounds that Grisha had inflicted upon him were dire and the surgeons didn't attend to him fast enough.
For years, he laid here in silence, sleeping into eternity. He only moved when the servants would bathe or feed him the concoctions the Healing Church produced. The medicine and sustenance only helped prolong his sleep and ensured he didn't die from starvation and dehydration.
Years.
Years of nothing.
Yet, Frieda remained. Every day, she visited her would-be King and prayed for mercy and hope. She had given her all to try and have Levi return to her—she threw her pride out the window, gave the Healing Church funds, watched them backstab her and turn the public against her, and all for what?
To find a cure to awake Levi.
Instead… the Healing Church found cures for all diseases and pains and limitations. All except Levi's.
It was practically a spit in the face. It felt as if they were intentionally torturing Frieda day in and day out by pretending they were searching. Historia used to think they were doing their best, but naivety was short lived.
"I…"
It caught in Historia's throat.
How could she say she had joined the very thing that had ruined Frieda's life?
Maybe…
Perhaps…
It wasn't the Healing Church, but herself that did it.
If Historia hadn't shown up, maybe things would have gone differently. Maybe Levi and her sister would've been happily wedded and with children.
"What is it?" Frieda asked but never took her attention of her fiancé.
"I… I wanted to say that… the Court this year is really beautiful… the best it's ever been."
A low chuckle came from Frieda.
"Yes, yes it has."
"I just wanted to tell you that… Goodnight, Frieda."
"Historia?"
"Yes?" She stopped in the hall, looking back into the darkness where her sister was.
"Don't be afraid to tell me things. Okay?" Frieda's voice was haunting and sad.
"Of course."
Further and further, Historia wrapped herself in the web of lies she had to maintain, unknowing to what spider Ymir was conjuring.