Agnès stifled a groan as she rubbed her eyes, trying not to shift in her chair. The study she was in was very well furnished, with a small library worth of books lining the wall behind the ornate desk in front of her, but she was in no mood to be taken in by such things. The past 24 hours had been nothing but her trying to wrangle the various authorities in the city to stop being stupid and do what they were supposed to do in a crisis situation, on top of keeping an eye on her charge. So far she had been managing, but just an hour ago she had been informed that her people ran into a major problem in doing their own job, something with was causing her to scowl at the man on the other side of the desk. "I keep telling you, we need my people to investigate! The Musketeers have trained to protect the Royal Family from any avenue of attack, so they know how assassins think! My people are the best well equipped to get the bottom of this, and refusing to let them do their job is the highest order of idiocy!"

High Judge Francis Martel however was not moved. "And I keep telling you that it's not going to happen." The older man was broad and heavy, very much adding to the impression that he was an immovable object. "Some of us feel that the Musketeers are needed to protect the Royal family and you don't have enough soldiers to spare, especially after the attack. Besides which, the Albionesse delegation raised concerns about the… competence of your order. Normally this would barely be even considered coming from the representative of a foreign nation, but I must say they do have a point considering the condition we found the captured assassins in when you handed them over."

"We didn't touch them! They did that too themselves!" To be sure, when she and a few of the other musketeers had tried to interrogate the assassins who had survived, they could barely get anything out of them, most either saying nothing or just muttering incoherently. However, while Agnès was not exactly opposed to making things more physical to get what she wanted, she knew that there was a time and place where it was actually effective and this wasn't it. Unfortunately, several of them tried to take very permanent measures to keep from taking, mostly smashing their heads into things and trying to goad the musketeers into killing them. One man tried to bite off his own tongue (though he subsequently learned the fact that it was impossible, as you pass out from blood loss long before you make it all the way through).

Martel's mouth pressed into a thin line, showing his skepticism. "Sure you didn't." His expression softened a little. "Regardless of how it may have happened and considering the current hold on matters, the Regency Council feels that it would be best to appease the Albionesse delegation as much as possible until we get the current situation settled." He gestured helplessly. "Personally I'm not quite as opposed to your objection as some of the others on the council, but I suspect that you have rubbed a number of them the wrong way over the years, and they're taking their chance to slight you."

The knight captains held back several choice curses as her shoulders tensed. Immediately after the attack Princess Henrietta was too… out of sorts to properly command, so an interim Regency Council was formed to handle things, done at the behest of her mother. Queen Marianne had technically abdicated after the death of her husband, but she still held a few powers of the state, one of which being that she could appoint a council if her daughter was indisposed. Agnès loathed this as she felt now was the worst time for such a thing; what the city needed right now was decisive leadership and a strong front, not a bunch of nobles with conflicting ideas and agendas. She was talking to Martel because he was the only one of them she could stand.

The worst of it was that Princess Henrietta could fix this instantly by simply declaring herself fit to rule and dissolving the council. There was nothing stopping her… except her own fear. Agnès's mouth twisted as she resolved to try to talk to the princess again, but the last time they had simply yelled at each other. She put those thoughts to the side and said "So, what, you're doing nothing then? You're just going to assume these assassins fell out of the sky?"

"Of course not. The city guard has been placed in charge of the investigation-"

Agnès snorted. "Andrews couldn't figure out where his own ass was if he didn't have to sit down on occasion."

The look Martel gave her made it clear he did not appreciate her comment. "Such as it is, I think that you should be grateful that we are investigating at all. I have any number of nobles who think that they know better than me demanding why we have not already accused Germania formally for this disaster. "

The Musketeer Captain had to pinch the bridge of her nose. "You can't possibly believe that they were actually Germanian soldiers just because they wore Germanian army uniforms! They could have gotten those anywhere, which is to say nothing of how sloppy that execution was for a military unit! Even if for some insane reason Germania was so offended by this accusation that they would try to kill the princess in broad daylight, I would have expected them to do a better job of it."

The judge gave her an exasperated look. "I'm not saying that the Kaiser himself sent them, but there is a very real possibility that this was done by a small number of soldiers who felt umbrage on their sovereign's behalf and took an extremely ill-advised measure to fix it. And though what you say about the uniforms is true, the same cannot be said about the gunpowder, which everyone knows the Germanian military has invested heavily in." Martel gave a worried sigh and looked off to the side. "The fact that this group was able to obtain it is almost secondary to how they used it. I fear that what it may inspire may lead to a repeat of the Age of Mourning."

Agnès pressed her lips together, silently agreeing with the man's dread. After the death of Brimir, the nations of man he had created had suddenly found themselves without a unifying leader, and as such began to slowly fall into warring between one another. They were minor skirmishes at first, but when mages became involved the situation escalated dramatically. This time was known as the Age of Mourning, when human civilization nearly tore itself apart out of sorrow and lost guidance from its saint.

Or at least that was how the church liked to put it. The more accurate truth of it was that humans were just coming to terms with the power that the Brimiric magic system granted them, and there were no rules in its use in warfare. The horrors this inspired on the battlefields were enough, but it got worse when things became vicious enough that mages started to sneak into enemy cities to attack civilians and infrastructure. When it came down to it, a sufficiently skilled or powerful mage could kill dozens of people on the street in a matter of seconds and disappear amid the chaos, causing untold harm before they were captured.

Eventually the Papacy gathered the leaders of each nation and helped negotiate the Halkeginian Accords, the first set of rules regarding what magic could and could not be used during both war and peace. It outlawed many dark magics that had been created and well as a number of practices which caused 'the cruel loss of innocent lives', the banning of mage assassins being one of them. This was not to say that normal assassin were tolerated either, but training and using a mage as an assassin was treated as a much more serious crime due to the sheer amount of damage one could cause. The Brimiric nations had agreed to this as they wanted to avoid the bloody escalation that would result if they didn't.

Of course, Agnès didn't believe for one second that mage assassins didn't exist. They were just subtle and discreet enough that no one could say for sure if any of their kills were caused by magic, as well as limiting themselves to single targets. And so long as there wasn't too much chaos or disquiet caused by it most nobles were willing to pursue other methods of 'justice' rather than trying to make a potential scandal. Everyone knew going back to the large, messy, killings would be bad for everyone.

And yet, that was exactly what someone had done, just in a way that no one had expected. Gunpowder was still relatively new in Halkeginia, and tightly controlled by the militaries of the various nations on the continent. It was true that gunpowder had been used for simple explosives rather than in cannons or firearms before, but it was a relatively uncommon practice (After all, there were mages that specialized in demolition). But now someone had used it as a guerrilla weapon inside of a major city, and Agnès was suddenly worried about if they were truly ready for the kind of threats this would lead to.

Eventually Agnès shook her head to rid herself of such thoughts and said "I don't believe it's going to come to that. Regardless of who or what was behind this, I'll reach out to my contacts in the various Halkeginian militaries, see if I can't get a meeting set up. No one I know wants the continent to burn in unbridled warfare, so I'm sure we can reach a consensus on how to deal with this in the future."

Martel nodded. "That is good to hear, but that don't address my current point. What little evidence we have does seem to support the theory that Germanians were behind this, working independently or not. The case certainly isn't helped by the fact that the final assassin used a blunderbuss, a popular weapon with Germanian cavalry."

"And Albionesse dragoons." Martel blinked in surprise, and Agnès continued. "Since the start of the civil war, there has been a high demand for firearms in Albion which numerous smugglers have supplied, most of their stock coming from Germania. It's not much, but it has been enough for the dragoons to be outfitted with blunderbusses." It also went without saying that the dragoons were working with the Reconquista. Say what you will about them, but the Reconquista was good at using its human resources, and it was all too happy to embrace the aid of commoners. The dragoons were never particularly important to the mostly air power based nation, so it seemed likely that they had switched sides for an increase in status.

The man in front of her raised an eyebrow. "I… see. Are you sure of this?"

Agnès snorted. "If there's one thing I knew, its guns. Besides which, I managed to get a good look at the weapon before I was politely told to butt out, and it was a lighter model that the dragoons favor."

Martel was silent for a long moment, contemplating what she had told him. The man was able to tell that she wasn't just making it up: he had been a judge for much of his life, and telling whether or not the person in front of him was lying was a skill he had honed over the years. And the implications of what she was telling him... "That is an… interesting fact, though it does raise some questions." He said slowly. "I will be sure to let the current investigators know what to look out for, but unfortunately that doesn't change the fact that there is nothing else to be done, at least by you." He paused for a moment. "Of course, I may have been told there is a chance that things could change if the Albionesse delegation changed its opinion of you Musketeers… and a good way to do that would be not brush them off when they ask to reschedule the trial."

Agnès's mouth pressed into a thin line. So that's what they really wanted. "The princess has been too busy saving the life of the man who aided us in the attack." The musketeer had seen firsthand that Georgius's resistance to magic was no exaggeration before, but she had not expected that it extended to healing spells as well. Either the man couldn't control it or he wasn't in the correct state of mind to do so when he passed out. Regardless, after going through all of the royal mages, it turned out that only the princess combining her magic with her mother had the magical power needed to affect him at all, and even then their most powerful healing spells were reduced to less than dot spells in power. Henrietta had been spending the past day exhausting herself using her magic to heal whatever minor damage she could and keeping him hydrated. "If you're suggesting that she let him die-"

"I'm suggesting that she take a day off so she can answer these allegations." Martel interrupted, his voice hard again. "This soldier can survive for a day without her at his side, especially since I have heard that the man is recovering relatively well."

Agnès stiffed a little at that. "I wasn't aware that Georgius's current state was common knowledge."

"It's not, but I like to stay informed and there are more than your own personal guard attending to him." The judge replied. "Brief as it was, the man's appearance made quite the impression on the populous and nobility. The lack of information has also spawned any number of rumors, ranging from him being a visiting Romalian knight to the first male musketeer in you corps. I think you can blame your similar capes for that one."

Agnès let out a mirthless laugh at that, but she also recognized that Martel was trying to fish for some information himself. She wasn't sure how many people know just what Georgius was (something she wasn't quite sure of herself), but for the short term she felt it was best to play it close to the vest. "He's working for me, but not officially. That's all I can say at the moment."

Martel's mouth twisted a little at that, but he let it drop. "Regardless, for everyone's sake I do hope that he recovers soon. Tristian needs its princess, one way or the other."

There was nothing else to be said after that. Agnès shortly thereafter left the judge's study, the knot of frustration in her gut no smaller than when she entered. In truth, Georgius waking up probably would be the best way to start untangling this mess, if only because the man seemed to have an uncanny knack for having things happen around him. If nothing else, maybe his old fashioned charm could convince the princess to take control once again.

I can't rely on that though, even if he's healing spectacularly well, she thought to herself. I don't know when he'll wake up, so in all likelihood it will be too late to get any of my people investigating this before any leads run cold.

Not unless I do something a bit… unorthodox, she thought, a plan starting to form.

A day later, Agnès predictably found her charge in the infirmary.

While the palace proper didn't have such a facility, there was always a contingent of both musketeers and city guards on the grounds, and as such they had their own garrison. Most of those who were injured in the assassination attempt had either been healed to where they could leave or had died, but there were still a few cases that required the attention of surgeons. One such case was currently towards the back of the long building, and Agnès walked past the rows of beds to join a group of people clustered around one. "How is he doing?" she asked the closest doctor.

The man turned and gave a shrug. "The same, for the most part. As far as we can tell most of the damage has been healed fairly well, and he's be steadily regaining blood. In my opinion he could wake up at any time now, though I couldn't tell you when for certain."

Agnès grunted and moved past him, looking down at bed which rested the man who had been getting involved in many interesting things of late. Georgius lay stripped to the waist, a number of bandages covering his abdomen. He had been slowly becoming less pale over the past two days, and Agnès fully believed the doctor's prognosis. The fact that she didn't understand how it was possible was a different matter.

She turned her attention to the one leaning over him at the moment, and a small frown settled onto her face. She wasn't exaggerating when she had said that the princess was spending almost all of her time trying to heal Georgius, but that didn't mean she actually approved of it. Henrietta had barely even noticed Agnès's arrival, as she was intensely focused on the small ball of water hovering over Georgius's head. Her mother Marianne stood on the other side of the bed, softly chanting as she pointed her own wand at the orb, adding her own power to the spell. Combinational Magic was a skill only know to Royalty and rarely used, so Agnès was a little surprised at just how… subdued the spell was.

The wand in Henrietta's hand moved slightly and a thin stream of water from the orb extended down towards the man's mouth. As the stream drew close it started to fray and break apart, but an increase in chanting from the queen and a deep breath from the princess caused it to stabilize and it pushed past Georgius's lips. Agnès couldn't see it, but she knew that Henrietta was carefully trying to regulate the man's breathing and throat muscles, so that the water would end up in his stomach and not his lungs. She also knew it was a very bad idea to interrupt, so she waited until the process was complete.

Eventually the ball of water was depleted, and by the end of it the princess and her mother were breathing heavily and had a light sheen of sweat. Queen Marianne let out a weary sigh. "I am afraid that is all I can manage for today my dear. I must retire for the evening."

"Thank you, mother." Henrietta said, and the older woman moved to leave. As the queen moved past the knight captain, Henrietta finally seemed to notice Agnès's presence. "Oh, I didn't see you there. How did it go?"

Agnès's mouth twisted. "Not well. I was given a bunch of flimsy justifications for it, but the real reason is that some people put their pettiness before their common sense and don't like me very much. Plus the Albonesse are whining about it too, though Martel more or less admitted that this was meant to pressure you into going back to court."

A scowl settled on Henrietta's face. "Well, I can't exactly do that, can I?"

Agnès sighed. "No… but you can't keep using him as an excuse. Especially considering that the man is being very inconsiderate and making a miraculous recover."

Nervousness briefly crossed the girl's face before she looked to the side. "Yes, well… I suppose I will have to get it over with at some point. Just… I can't right now."

Agnès held back a grimace. At first she had been all for using Georgius's recovery as an excuse to postpone the trial, but that was because she had wanted time to learn about the assassins, in case it was as relevant to the Albionesse as she suspected. Unfortunately, Henrietta on the other hand was clearly afraid, and was using it as an excuse to shirk her duty. She had never suffered an assassination attempt before and while she hid it well the event had clearly shook her up. She barely left he garrison for the past two days, both to occupy herself with a task and so that she was constantly surrounded by guards.

Were the princess one of her soldier Agnès would have simply berated her until she either started doing her job or quit, but 'quitting' wasn't exactly an acceptable outcome in this context, so the knight captain felt lost. For the time being, she decided to change the subject. "Where is the Vallière girl? I need to speak with her about something."

Henrietta let out a sigh and pointed behind Agnès, causing the woman to turn. Louise was currently lying on one of the nearby beds, fast asleep. "I told her that she could use one of my guest rooms, but she refused to leave his side." The princess remarked. "Admirable, but I do wish we hadn't found her asleep in her chair this morning. I had to move her to an actual bed myself."

The knight captain's mouth twisted a little. She needed to talk to the young mage, but it wouldn't do to have her be exhausted. Maybe I could let her rest until- The thought was cut off as one of her musketeers approached her and whispered something into her ear. Agnès sighed and rolled her eyes. Never mind, they're here. "Well, it seems that I need to borrow her for a bit. In the mean time I want you to follow your mother's example and get some rest. In your own bed."

The princess shifted. "I… am fine to remain here. After all, what if Georgius needs me-"

"He'll be fine, trust me." Agnès interrupted. "We still have a mundane doctor to look after him, and besides which you can't do anything to help without your mother present as well."

The princess still looked uncertain, but then a hand fell on her shoulder from behind and Agnès was surprised to see it belonged to Cardinal Mazarin, the spiritual leader inside the palace. He was also another member of the Regency Council. "Do not worry," Mazarin said. "I am sure that she is right. Besides, I shall be sure to be by his side when you are not to pray for the Founder's blessing." Agnès raised an eyebrow at that, which the man noticed before answering the unspoken question. "I have something of an… interest in this young man, and I wish to see him healed."

Agnès found this a bit odd, but didn't bother questioning it as it seemed to do the trick. The princess did a last check of Georgius before she finally allowed herself to be lead out of the infirmary by a pair of musketeers. Agnès then turned back to the bed which the Vallière girl was sleeping in. "Hey, wake up." She said as she shook her.

The girl mumbled a bit and just rolled over. The knight captain quirked her lips before simply shoving her. The girl gave a yelp of surprise and flailed as she tried to sit up, but that only made it worse and caused her to go tumbling over the edge of the bed with a thud. Louise managed to pull herself back up and said "What?! What is so damn important?!"

"I need you for something, let's step outside." Agnès said. Louise glanced over at Georgius's bed, but the musketeer cut her off before she could ask. "He's going to be fine, he's just not awake yet. So if we could get moving…"

The two left the infirmary and walked out into the places grounds, Louise rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as they did so. "So, what did you want to talk to me about? I've already told you about everything I remember of the attack." She drew up short a little. "N-Not that I'm unwilling, mind you. I'll gladly answer any questions you might have."

Agnès was about to tell her that wasn't what this was about before she stopped. It looked like they had a minute or two before everyone was brought to her, so she decided to ask about something that had been bothering her for the past few days. "Alright. You can start by telling me what the hell Georgius is."

The girl blinked. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about how that man is somehow recovering from a gut shot with effectively no real magical assistance." Agnès said flatly.

Louise waved her hand dismissively. "Yeah, but so what? I mean, it didn't hit his heart or lungs or anything like that, so why wouldn't he be able to recover?"

The musketeer looked at the young noble for a long moment before she face palmed. "Girl, this isn't one of your tales from a story book where the hero can shrug off wounds like it was water. Men can die from 'just' getting stabbed in the shoulder, if they bleed enough or it gets infected."

Still, Louise did not look convinced. "Yes, but Georgius is getting medical attention. What's so special about his case?"

"Because he was shot in the gut. And not only that, he was shot with a .54 caliber ball from a Blunderbuss. If you're not aware, that is one of the most damaging types of muskets that exist outside of literal hand cannons, and Georgius's armor barely slowed it down. That alone should have shredded several of his internal organs in the area and possibly damaged his spine. And yet, somehow, the bullet 'merely' made a hole through his stomach and some of his intestines. Hell, if he had seen a surgeon immediately I have the feeling that he'd be fully recovered by now."

"Oh." Louise blinked. "Then, why-"

"Because he made it worse," Agnès said, anger seeping into her voice at just how stupidly the man had behaved. She had been able to find him and the assassin he had chased after she had heard the gunshot in the alleyway, and she had naturally assumed that was when he was shot, and by a much smaller firearm. It was only later that she found out the truth, that he had been injured by the first shot near the courthouse, though she still didn't know how that happened. By all account he had been out of the line of fine, but witnesses claim that he had moved just before the shot. She had heard rumors from the commoners that he had moved in front of the crowd to shield them, which sounded unfortunately likely considering the man. "Instead of doing the sensible thing and staying put, he immediately got into a chase with the assassin, plus some incident with the dragon stables somehow. This got his now shit-laden blood pumping through his entire body, poisoning the whole of him. And yet it wasn't even until I caught up with him that he was starting to feel the effects of it."

Agnès folder her arms and frowned at Louise. "That man should by all rights be dead five times over, and yet he is somehow recovering. So, I'll ask again: what is he?"

The girl hesitated, looking back at the infirmary they had come out of. She turned back and said "I… don't know. All he ever told me was that he was knight, and a 'Tribune', whatever that means. He doesn't really talk about himself unless I ask him directly."

"And he has a talent for understatement when you do." Agnès remarked dryly. "Yes, I got that impression too. How the hell can a man be so genuinely polite yet so damn infuriating at the same time?"

Louise let out a sigh. "Oh don't get me started. Every time I try to remind him that I'm the master of this relationship, he just smiles and does whatever I tell him to do, but I just know he only does it because he feels like and not because he thinks he actually has to! And then when I try to correct him he just says something like 'I know you're better than that, Louise'!"

"Well that's just silly," said a voice from behind Louise, coming from one of the women who just approached the group. "Why, anyone can see that you're not better than that, Vallière."

"Shut up Kirche, no one asked you!" Louise looked back to yelled at the taller redhead behind her before turning back to Agnès to complete her thought. She then stopped, her eyes widening as her brain caught up. "Kirche?!" She yelled as she spun. "What are you doing here?!"

The fellow student put a hand on her chest in mock hurt. "Oh, is that how you greet the one here to help you? I would have thought that you would be more grateful Valerie."

"Agreed." Added the smaller blue haired girl standing by her side, though she hadn't bothered looking up from her book to say so.

"I invited them." Agnès said, cutting off further argument. "The reason for which being that I have a mission for all of you."

Louise immediately at that. "A-another mission? Of course I'll do it, but why-!"

"Because this is more than a one person job." The musketeer interrupted again. "The short of it is that because of political bullshit the Musketeers are not allowed to investigate the assassins. As you might imagine this doesn't sit too well with me, but me and my women are being watched, so I'm bringing in you lot to do the job for me. To be honest, I'd prefer to have someone more professional, but time is of the essence and you are the best I can get that I know are both competent and will keep your mouths shut about it."

She looked at Kirche. "She's here because she comes from a Gemanian military family, one whose fortune is partially based in arms manufacturing. It's a long shot, but if Gemanians really are involved, she may be of use in finding leads as to how the assassins managed to get their hands on gunpowder."

"And even if they're not, I shall punish them for trying to sully the good name of my country." Kirche said, her tone more serious than usual. "You're not the only one with a stake in this anymore Vallière. There is a not inconsiderable chance that this could result in war between our nations if handled poorly, and while I would normally not be opposed to my family showing up your family on the field of battle I refuse for it to be because some third party manufactured it."

Agnès grunted before looking at Tabitha. "She's here mostly because Miss Zerbst refused to go without her, but she's also one of the highest ranking students in your grade. I have a feeling that she will be useful to you." In truth, something about the bespectacled girl put Agnès on edge. She was just a bit too calm, a little too detached from what was going on around her. And the way she had dismissed Agnès back at the caravan implied that she was more than a mere introvert.

Tabitha nodded. "Help." She said softly.

Agnès finally turned to the dark haired maid standing behind them. "And she's here because…" She trailed off and blinked in confusion. "Actually, I have no idea why you're here. Or who you are." A pause. "Who are you?"

"I-I am Siesta de Tarbes, Si-Dame!" The maid said nervously. "I was brought along by Miss Zerbst as her personal servant."

The knight captain idly chastised herself for how she didn't notice the maid until then, but she shook her head and said "Sorry, but this is too important for an ordinary civilian to be involved in. Unless you can bring something useful-"

"I can, I can!" Siesta suddenly exclaimed, very eager not to be sent home for some reason. "My uncle owns an inn in the city, and he's always had an ear out for any rumors that he could find useful. I promise that if anyone has heard anything about these men, he will have."

Agnès frowned, wondering if she should believe the girl. Judging by the surprised look on Kirche's face it seemed that the red head hadn't known this particular fact. Still, the musketeer's gut said the maid was probably telling the truth, and besides which she didn't want her wandering off now that she knew about this little side mission. "Alright then, I guess you're in too then. Now, I want the four of you-"

"Wait," Louis interrupted. "The four of us? What about my familiar? Won't he be a part of this mission too?"

Agnès shook her head. "No, for several reasons. The first of which being we don't know when he will wake up and this has to be done as soon as possible. The second is that Georgius has become something of a… notable figure in the city since his protection of the princess. Not much is known about him, but he was very visible and rather distinctive looking. If any of the assassin's associates see him snooping around they'll likely go to ground. And the last reason, well, how do I put this…"

Tabitha was the one who helped her out "Too honest."

The musketeer snorted. "Yeah, that'll do. This is a mission that requires at least a bit of subterfuge, of which I think we can all agree is not in his nature. So, with that out of the way, I already have a list of potential smugglers in the city who-"

"Ah, actually," The maid interrupted, looking nervous as Agnès scowled at her for being cut off again. "I was wondering if we could see Sir Georgius before we left. All I heard was that he was injured, but…"

Agnès held back a sigh. "He was injured pretty badly, but he's recovering extremely well. However, like I said he's still unconscious and we have no idea when he'll wake up, so there's no need to-"

This time it was Kirche that interrupted her. "No, I'm with the maid on this one. We did not come all the way here to simply ignore the man of the hour. Besides which, is it not reasonable to assume that the knight will awake when in the presence of such a beautiful woman such as myself?" She said coyly while placing her hand on her ample chest. "And if that doesn't work, well, I may be so daring to reverse the normal roles of this story and give him a rousing kiss from his slumber."

"You- you can't do that!" Siesta suddenly insisted. "It is most improper, and he wouldn't appreciate it coming from one such as you!"

"Oh?" The other girl said, cocking and eyebrow as she smirked at the maid. "So I suppose that you would want the honor instead?"

"What!? I- but- well…" The maid stuttered, becoming flustered at the accusation.

Louise grit her teeth and narrowed her eyes at the read head. "I shouldn't be surprised that you're still trying to throw yourself so shamelessly at my familiar." She gave a huff. "Of course even if your stupid plan held any kind of merit he would have already awoken by now. The princess has graciously been tending to his wounds ever since the incident, and she is far more beautiful than you could hope to be."

If anything, Kirche perked up at this news. "Really? The brave knight is being tended to by the kind hands of princess he saved? How delightfully romantic. Even a man with a will such as his will find his heart racing when he awakes. And that is when I will strike!"

This of course only made Louise angrier. "D-Don't you dare imply something so scandalous involving the princess Zerbst!"

As the two started to bicker, Agnès felt her eyebrow twitch. This may have been a mistake, she thought to herself.

He didn't know how long it had been. All he knew was darkness and pain. Was he dead? Was this the Throne once more, and it was punishing him for escaping its grasp? Or was his time alive a dream to begin with, and it was merely chastising him for his thoughts? He could not tell. Regardless, images of his second life flickered through his mind, the people and places he had seen. Words spoken when he first appeared, the feel of his old sword in his hand, the sight of dead eyes staring up at him with an unnatural light.

But there were more, images of things he could not have seen, and all of them involving his master. There was an image of herself and an older man with long grey hair on a boat in a lake, then one of a younger version of her playing with Princess Henrietta , and then another of her being scolded by a taller blonde woman. The images were fragmented, without context, but more often than not he saw her in distress, in despair at her own short comings.

You are more than your perceived failures, why can't you see that?

Eventually though, the images faded away, and the pain that filled his being started to lessen. He did not how long it was till then, but he started to hear a voice.

"…and may you watch over him in his time of need. O Father of mercies and God of all comfort, our only help. We humbly beseech thee to behold, visit, and relieve this man of his afflictions. By your light and your kindness shall he be made whole."

It was unfamiliar, both the voice and what was said… but not unpleasant. In fact he found it soothing in a way, and he felt his body start to relax a little.

"Though I know not the curse afflicted upon him, your child has done good work, and so we humbly beseech that the holy magics of Brimir will no longer be turned away."

No, wait, that wasn't right.

Georgius let out a groan as he shifted, his eyes fluttering open blearily. Everything was blurry at first, though he could make out the shape of someone leaning over him. "Praise be, you are awake. I advise you to take it easy my son, for you've been out for some time."

"Wha… what?" Georgius managed to say, shaking his head and blinking to clear his vision. When his sight returned he managed to take stock of his surroundings, finding himself lying in a bed in a room filed with similar beds. It was not hard to recognize an infirmary for the soldier. He turned back to the person by his bedside and saw an older man with a pleasant smile wearing white robes and a purple sash draped over his shoulders. "I… what happened?"

"You contracted sepsis." The older man said frankly, though his voice lost none of his concern. "Yours was a bad case when you were brought to the healer, and when it was realized that magic could not touch you… well, no one was expecting much. That was a little over two days ago. However, you have proven incredibly resilient, and through the combined power of both the princess and the queen they were able to give you relief, if only slightly."

Georgius let out a breath as he considered this, mentally putting himself back together. He was a little surprised at how his magic resistance had blocked the healing spell, but considering the religion this land's magic was based around… well, he supposed that he couldn't just pick and choose in these cases. He would just have to trust his resistance was better to him than not. It also surprised him a little that Henrietta and her mother was able to affect him with magic, but he remembered that royals were supposed to be the most powerful mages in the world, so it was not inconceivable.

He then blinked as he realized the last thing that the man had said, and shakily pulled himself up into a sitting position. "Wait, curse? What curse?"

The man's smile fell a bit. "Ah, you do not know. I am afraid that almost all magic, save for the most powerful, has no effect on you. It made healing you an almost impossible task, and I consider it a miracle that you managed to live at all. Still, despite my prayers I am sorry to say I was not able to remove this curse upon you."

Georgius was silent for a moment, rather nonplussed by the man's reaction to his magic resistance. Eventually, he said "It is not a curse."

The man leaned back in confusion. "What? What do you mean?"

"It is not a curse." Georgius repeated. "It is a gift bestowed upon me by God for my faith in Him. It has saved my life on countless occasions when a spell tried to lay me low, and has allowed me to fight those that hurt and oppress others. In light of that, I will not bemoan my magic resistance because it proved inconvenient this time." His expression softened a little. "I do not mean to belittle your attempts though. I appreciate your concern, but it is misplaced in this instance."

The other man looked shocked at this, trying to get his head around what Georgius had said. "That's… you can't possibly…" he started to say before he recomposed himself. "Well, I suppose that I can see why you would think that, but I am afraid you are gravely mistaken. Though most do not have access to it themselves, to be so dulled to the touch of magic is something God would never do. Magic is God's gift to man, and why Brimir was sent to teach us this."

Georgius's eyes narrowed ever so slightly at that before he said "Are you a priest?"

"Ah, how rude of me," The man said as he bowed his head slightly, politeness overcoming his shock. "I am Cardinal Mazarin, and I suppose yes, I am technically speaking the currently serving priest to the royal family." His mouth then pressed into a grimace. "And, if I may be so blunt, I believe that you could do with a sermon young man, as you seem to have some strange idea about how God would reward his followers."

The knight was about to respond about how he doubted that before he stopped, a thought occurring to him. If this man truly was priest, then this would be the best chance he would get to learn about Louise's religion, and finally come to a conclusion on how to approach it. To try to reform or denounce, one must be done. "You would teach me of Founderism?" he asked.

Mazarin was taken off guard by this before his expression brightened. "Of course. It is my sacred duty to inform those of the way of God and Brimir. If you actually do wish for a sermon, I will be happy to oblige."

Georgius hesitated and looked around. "Where is my master?"

Mazarin shrugged. "Captain Agnès pulled her aside last night and I haven't seen her since. Other than that she has been with you this whole time."

Georgius thought about this for a moment before he pulled himself into a more comfortable sitting position. It sounded like Louise was in good care, so he could delay rejoining her for a little while longer. "Then yes," he said, turning his full attention to the priest. "Tell me everything."

A/N: This chapter has actually been done for a while now, but my beta has been out of touch for a variety of reasons. As such, this chapter is a little rawer that usual, and may be subject updates/minor changes when he gets back to me.

In any case, this one is mostly to give a bit of perspective on what happened and what's coming up next. I'd like to insure that the rest of the cast aside from George gets some attention and development, as I want this fic to be more than just 'George does everything meaningful and important'. Though George doing his own thing for a bit may result in a few ruffled feathers among the clergy… and by that I mean more than a few shouts of 'Heresy!'

Also, I hope that Agnès's explanation of George's wound helps explain why he went down. It was difficult to frame what exactly happened last chapter because it was from George's perspective, but this should give some context. And yes, that assassin was a very good shot to hit from that distance.

Oh, and to the many of you that commented about magic resistance and the scene in Fate/Zero with Saber and Iri, I actually knew about that scene as I was writing. That scene was never a solid case for me because Saber is capable of regenerating using her own prana, so I always figured that she was asking her 'Master' for the prana to heal herself. Regardless, it doesn't really matter in this case, as George's magic resistance come from a particular source and has its own set of rules for this fic.

Till next time.