Intelligence, Destiny, and Perseverance

By: KitKat411

Author's Note: Haha. Ya'll are right, I guess. My Author's Note is a lot longer than my story. (By the way, I'm finally learning the difference between "then" and "than.") Sorry about the really long Author's Notes. I probably shouldn't be apologizing, but I feel a bit guilty…but if you don't like 'em, don't read 'em. However, I will try to keep my ranting to a minimum. (No promises, though. Sometimes I just have to rant.)

Oh, and to Nadrom-sorry if I spelled that wrong: No, this story won't all be in italics. I was just reading over the "fluffy" stories in this section of FanFiction, and I though, "I want to write one of those too!!" (Insert whiny voice.) However, I am seemingly incapable of writing anything other than "emo rants," so the italics are my screwed up, cynical, twisted version of a fairy tale.

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Yes, the princess had realized that fairy tales didn't exist. However, that theory had one slight flaw:

She had a knight in shining armor.

"Franziska!" The word was loud and pompous, and even at three years old Franziska knew who was calling her. That voice sent shivers down her spine and made her want to hide under the bed in fright. Even at three, Franziska knew well enough to be afraid of her father. Accompanied by her nanny, Franziska feebly tottered down the stairs to the front entranceway, where her father was standing.

Franziska noticed her father first, of course. He was large where Franziska was tiny, tall and sturdy where Franziska was short and small. Even at three, however, Franziska already was beginning to show some of her father's characteristics. They both were somewhat arrogant, and both Franziska and her father were firm in their decisions. Even when choosing what to wear in the morning, Franziska was final in her choices and would not be changed. Her nannies were often afraid for this little girl, the little girl who would surely always be under her father's wing.

After her father, however, Franziska noticed the reason why she had been called downstairs. There was a boy there, a boy of about nine years. He had almost grey h air and grey eyes, and those eyes were filled with a wide-eyed panic. Franziska, unaccustomed to seeing anyone remotely close to her age, peered at him curiously. He looked normal to her, not like he was under the "von Karma curse." He looked as if he belonged on a playground, not in the library like her. He looked afraid, wary even, but not trapped. So what was he doing here?

"Franziska, this is Miles Edgeworth." Her father's voice was clear-cut, without any emotional attachment. "His father…had a tragic accident. His father and I were peers, so I invited Miles here to live with us until he is grown. He is my new apprentice, and so you will treat him with as much respect as you give me. Is this understood?"

It didn't take much to stun Franziska, even at three, but this news shocked her to the core. She was her father's daughter. She was supposed to be his apprentice. He was her mentor! He was her father. Didn't her father realize this? Didn't this Miles Edgeworth realize this? Miles was not supposed to disturb her and her father's relationship. Franziska was to be the von Karma heir, not Miles Edgeworth. "Miles von Karma"? If she weren't so stunned, the young von Karma would have snorted. This boy did not deserve to be mentored by Manfred von Karma. Only she did. Only she was special enough.

But Franziska did not voice these protests aloud. "Yes, Father," was all she said instead.

"Good. Then you can show Mr. Edgeworth here to his room then, Franziska. He'll be staying in the guest room, down the hall from your own."

Franziska nodded, and spoke English to the young boy, who looked confused. After all, everyone around him was speaking in German.

"Miles?" Franziska spoke, and the boy nodded. "Follow me to your room." She led the boy to his room, and pointed inside. "Father has already explained this house to you, yes?"

Miles shook his head 'no.' Franziska sighed. "Fine. Then I will. This is the von Karma household, if you were not dim-witted enough to know that. Manfred von Karma is a perfect prosecutor, and I will be also. So will you, Edgeworth, if you know what's good for you." She showed him the large mahogany desk in the corner of the guest room, and pointed at the neat stack of books beside it. "These are law books. You are expected to study them, to learn them, and to memorize them. Father often comes in to quiz you, and you better be prepared for the tests. If you are not…well, you will see. If you have questions about these books, ask me.

Breakfast is served promptly at seven every morning, lunch is served at noon, and dinner is served at seven in the evening. If you are late, you do not eat. It's a simple system, and one which you will quickly become accustomed to." Finally, Franziska showed him a dictionary. "I am under the assumption, of course, that you do not speak a word of German?"

The boy nodded, and Franziska almost rolled her eyes. "This is an English-to-German dictionary. Learn it quickly. Neither Father nor I like conversing in English, although we are both fluent.

Any questions?"

The boy said nothing for a moment, and then opened his mouth to speak. "Ah, Franziska," he asked her, a little worried, "this is only my first day here and I'm still terribly confused."

Now Franziska snorted. "And? What do you want me to do about it, Miles Edgeworth? Pity you? No, you do not deserve my pity. Learn quickly, Miles."

Miles Edgeworth looked a bit stunned. "How…you are only three…how did you learn all of this…so quickly, so soon?"

"I am a von Karma! Nothing less than perfection is expected of me!" Franziska walked out of Miles's room and returned to her own, where she opened her latest law book and began to study avidly.

The next few weeks passed in an uncomfortable silence. Franziska was again locked in her room, but by her own choice, not her father's. She just couldn't bear to stand the boy-the fool-who her father was now training. If she looked in the bottom of her soul, Franziska would have realized she was jealous of Miles Edgeworth, but the bottom of her soul was a place entirely unfamiliar to Franziska. It wasn't a place she visited often.

One day, however, the invisible wall between Franziska and Miles crumbled a bit. While copying out a particularly difficult paragraph from a law book, Franziska heard a knock on her wooden door. Surprised, Franziska went to open the door. The only other person who entered her room was her father, and he never knocked. Franziska opened the door cautiously.

"Oh," she said, "it's only you. Do you have a question, Miles Edgeworth?"

"No," he said, "not really."
"Oh," she said again, "well then, why are you here?"

"I was wondering if you would quiz me on evidence law." He asked her. "Manfred is prosecuting today, but I want to be ready when he returns."
Ignoring the way Miles Edgeworth was casually tossing around her father's first name, Franziska opened her door a little wider and let Miles Edgeworth enter. He looked around her room and his eyes widened. "Wow," he said, "for a three year old, this room is impeccably tidy. Do you have a maid or something?"

"No, Miles Edgeworth, I do not have a maid. Naturally, it is clean, however. How am I supposed to be perfect in a room that isn't perfectly organized?" She sat down at her desk and pulled out a book on evidence law. "And I'm not three anymore. My birthday was last Thursday. I am four."

"Wow," Miles said, and Franziska soon realized that this was the boy's favorite word. "I'm sorry, Franziska. I didn't know about your birthday. Did you do anything special? Did you get any nice gifts?"

Franziska scoffed. "Of course not. Father is prosecuting, and my birthday nearly always goes unnoticed by everyone. It took even me a day or so to realize that my birthday had passed. Birthdays are not celebrated here, Miles Edgeworth. They are not victories, nor are they perfect. Birthdays simply "celebrate" the fact that we have endured another three hundred and sixty five days on Earth. I do not find that to be a great accomplishment."

Miles looked down. "Still, though…my father would always celebrate my birthday."

"Your father was a defense attorney. Naturally, he would be soft and celebrate such things like birthdays. My father, on the other hand, is a prosecutor. He sends criminals to prison. I find that to be a little more important than a birthday party and a cake, Miles Edgeworth. Now," she said, pulling out a law book, "you wanted me to quiz you on evidence law, correct?"

She drilled him in the laws of evidence for the next three hours, until her father returned home. Her father had earned yet another "guilty" verdict, and Manfred von Karma was pleased, although "pleased" may be a little much. "Self-satisfied" would be a better definition of his mood.

The dinner that followed was a pleasant one, with Manfred von Karma recollecting the events of the day's trial and his "children" listening attentively. After dinner, Miles Edgeworth and Franziska returned to their separate rooms, and did not speak for the rest of the night.

The next morning, however, when Franziska opened her door to go and eat breakfast, she found a small, wrapped box in front of her door. Picking it up, Franziska realized that there was a small card attached to the box. She picked up the card, opened it, and read:

Dear Franziska,

Happy birthday.

Your brother,

Miles Edgeworth

"Fool." Franziska muttered to herself, although, again, in the bottom of her soul, she was happy. She stuffed the box under her bed where her father wouldn't find it, tucked the card into the sleeve of her dress, and went down to breakfast.