When Maria heard that Katarina Claes had missed a day's classes because she was sleeping and wouldn't wake up, she'd made a tasteless joke– to herself, since she had no one to share it with– that Claes was finally done fattening herself for winter and had gone into hibernation.
On the second day, her harem were clearly worried. A doctor was summoned, reportedly the most acclaimed doctor in the kingdom.
On the third day, Maria was summoned to her side to use her Light Magic on her, in an attempt to see if this would ease the Lady Claes' seeming affliction.
When she arrived, she had to sigh. Even in her own bedroom, wearing admittedly more modest sleepwear than she had expected of the woman (even if they were for some reason eggplant themed), Klaes was wearing the latest noble fashion. Dark smoked seemed to emanate from all her pajamas, effervescing even through the blanket. Honestly, the vanity of this woman.
She wondered what she was doing, doing favors for this woman whose entanglements she wanted to avoid. Oh right, Claes was a duke's daughter and Maria was a peasant, and so completely in her power.
Well, she supposed she had to try. The woman's maid was staring at her like Maria was a Blood Saint walking through a hospice, hoping for a drop of the blood in her veins. Given how tightly the maid was clutching at her skirt, it seemed like she was ready to rip it out with her fingernails.
Oh dear, the maid was another one of Claes' lovers, wasn't she? No wonder she was so desperate. Was Claes really that goo– no Campbell, don't let your mind wander into such dungeons! That way lies dark and unknowable eldritch truths not meant for the minds of mere mortals! Stop before you start drawing nonsense like that lunatic Caryll!
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Maria called upon her Light Magic. For all that she was attending the academy because she possessed magic, she had learned laughably little about how to use it. They had lessons on thermodynamics, fluid dynamics, petrology, hydraulics, volcanism, and even the weather, but those were meant to provide foundations for those who wielded the four common magics. Lessons meant to be a foundation for Light magic was limited to, at best, theoretical anatomy, and Maria probably knew how the insides of humans looked better than the teachers. Her knowledge wasn't theoretical, after all.
Still, people seemed to be expected to know how to use their magic instinctively. Perhaps nobles were expected to teach their own children control? Considering how young she had been when she'd begun using her magic, which was even before she had recovered her memories of her previous existence, that would certainly why, say, the third prince hadn't accidentally burned the capital down when he was younger. Perhaps she should count her blessings that Light Magic was what she had been imbued with instead of, to take a random example, the power to incinerate a town. Or drown it. Or drop it into a massive sinkhole. Or asphyxiate any she could see. Yes, a very good thing, Light Magic. She'd rather not be party to four atrocities in only two lives, after all.
However, this meant that all her light magic was self-taught and lacking in subtlety. Or variation. Or the knowledge of whether it was supposed to have subtlety and variation in the first place. Especially since the way she'd always done it always seemed to work, which was to have her hand glow with a radiance only she could see– for Light Magic was, again, absolute eyeball jars at making actual light– place it on Claes' hand, and generally wishing for her well-being and health.
She'd barely managed to do that, disturbing the dark smoke wafting from Lady Claes, when Prince Alan impatiently said, "Are you doing anything? What's taking so long?"
Maria reminded herself that defenestrating a prince of the realm was unlikely to do her any favors. "Yes Prince Alan, I have begun."
Prince Alan frowned, but thankfully it was one of his accent frowns and not something more dangerous. "It just looks like you're just touching her."
"That is because, as I explained during the practical exams, Light Magic is completely useless at producing light," Maria repeated patiently, trying to bring her concentration back to Claes as the eldritch light from her hands dimmed at her distraction. "I would be very helpful if I can concentrate without distractions, if you please."
The prince snorted, but turned away. "Why is it called Light Magic, then?" he muttered.
"I have no idea, your highness. Perhaps it doesn't eat very much so it can fit into its favorite dress."
This, at least, managed coax a snorting chuckle from him, even as the other members of Claes' harem crowded around the bed. At least none of them were actually touching Claes or her. She wasn't sure what would happen if someone other than her was touching the person she was using Light Magic upon, and she had never dared find out by experimentation. It smacked too strongly of the Choir's practices.
Maria ignored them, focusing only on Claes and her magic. It always seemed so strange that no matter how bright the eldritch light of her magic glowed, even when it glowed with the brilliance of a bonfire, that she was never blinded.
Behind her, she heard Hunt step close to the Third Prince. "Are you sure there wasn't anyone else?" she heard the woman say softly. Most wouldn't have heard it, but between her noble upbringing and her Hunter training, Maria had learned to distinguish and discern even subtle whispers, lest they be a sign of a bloodthirsty beast. Hmm, blood… "Doesn't the ministry have more experienced wielders of Light?"
Maria began to hum. Most people thought this would prevent her from hearing such a conversation. Most people would be wrong. That was why she did it.
"Campbell was closer and faster," the Third Prince responded quietly, apparently confident Maria's humming would drown them out. "The sooner whatever this thing is that Katarina's under gets healed, the better."
"I'm not objecting to the practicality and you know it," Hunt said. "I'm objecting to the participant! There's something wrong with that girl, or weren't you listening when you insisted she speak up?"
"She's a commoner. It's to be expected she has incorrect ideas about the nobility," the Third Prince said.
"And the Book of Painted Aria?" Hunt said. "Or are you going to tell me that has incorrect ideas about the nobility too?" Hunt challenged.
"What choice do we have, Mary? If there's even a fraction of a chance this can help Katarina, we have to try it."
"She was bathing and drinking from a pool of blood!" Hunt said in a hiss that was almost audible. Certainly noticeable, as Lord Ascart turned to see what the noise was.
"Do you know something, you two?" Lord Claes demanded. He'd actually sat on his hands to keep from touching his sister when Maria had said she needed no interference. "What's so important you have to talk about it now?"
"It's nothing, despite Mary insisting it is," the Third Prince said, and despite him being somewhere behind her, Maria could almost feel the look he was no doubt directing at Lady Hunt. "We were just about to drop it anyway."
Lady Hunt said nothing, but Maria could feel her glare of 'This isn't over' through the back of her neck.
It was always nice to be reminded there were factions in Lady Claes' harem. She still hadn't figured out a way to use that information to keep Lady Claes away from her, but the reminder was always useful. Maria continued on her her work, trying not to think of others that had previously been in her care, and who had never gotten better, only worse…
An hour later, even after constantly bathing Lady Claes in the eldritch light of her magic, the situation remained unchanged.
"I am sorry, your highness," she eventually had to say when she began to sway in tiredness. This had been the longest she had used her magic, and it surprised her how much it had drained her stamina and focus so. "I've failed you."
"Yes, you did," the Third Prince said, sounding almost accusatory. "But you tried, at least. Thank you for your assistance, Miss Campbell."
"Then I shall take my leave," Maria said. "I'm sure the doctors would not wish me underfoot as they begin to prepare Lady Claes for intravenous infusion."
The Third Prince blinked. "Intravenous infusion?" he said.
"Yes. Isn't that how you were going to supply Lady Claes with nutrition while she cannot–" indulge her appetites, she just barely prevented herself from saying, "feed herself?"
"I'm… not familiar with the procedure," the Third Prince said slowly.
Maria frowned. Odd. Was medical learning even further behind in Sorcier than she realized? "It was spoken of in the ancient texts about the Marvelous Kingdom of Friedonia, a medical procedure they used to keep someone supplied with food and fluids despite extended unconsciousness, sometimes for months or years in the worst cases." And used by the Healing Church for more targeted medical infusions using only miniscule amounts of blood.
The Third Prince was suddenly before Maria so quickly he might have been her old teacher. Maria nearly Quickened out of the way on instinct. "Campbell," he said with such an intensity Maria expected him to start raving about Old Blood, "I need you to tell me everything you know about this procedure. Now."