"She was found how?" Siri– er, Rafael Walt said as he followed the Third Prince towards the Ministry's Medicinal Magic secure wing.
"Hung upside-down from the front gate, practically naked, covered in cuts, bruises, insect stings, salt and lemon juice," the Third Prince repeated as he led the way. He turned to the younger man, raising an eyebrow. "That is the biggest smile I've ever seen on the face of a human being, and I've known Katarina Claes for over half my life."
"Am I smiling?" Rafael said. "I didn't even notice."
"You should have gotten your vengeance sooner, you're much more interesting to talk to like this," the Third Prince said.
"I'll take that in the spirit in was given," Rafael said. "Salt and lemon juice? How do we know?"
"Well, the fact she smells like lemons, for one thing," the prince said. "She was completely covered, there were salt crystals clinging to her like someone had handed Katarina a salted pretzel… huh, I didn't think it was physically possible for your smile to get any bigger, but somehow it did. Doesn't that hurt?"
"It's a good pain," Rafael said. "No one saw anything? Heard anything? Wouldn't the screams of agony, pleading and arrogant declarations have been heard for a long way?"
"As your concerned acquaintance, I really recommend you stop smiling for a while, I think your skin is tearing," the Third Prince said.
"No, I'm not letting anyone take this away from me," Rafael said. "Would you let anyone tell you to stop enjoying it if Lady Claes… well, did something for you in general?"
"I suppose…" the Third Prince conceded. "I see you've taken to calling her Lady Claes."
"Yes, Maria was very… intensely insistent," Rafael said. Wonder of wonders, his smile actually got smaller, if only to make room for wistfulness. "How has she been, by the way?"
"She's convinced Katarina to spend all her free time at the student council room by bribing her with cookies," the Third Prince said. "As it turns out, Campbell makes excellent sweets, and uses them decisively. With Katarina there, Campbell can keep everyone working on paperwork for as long as she likes."
"Is that why you're not worried about being gone? Maria keeps everyone too busy to make move on Lady Claes?" Rafael said.
"Yes," the Third Prince said, though the frown he wore said he'd rather be there. "Has… Campbell always been that… I want to say nurturing, but I'm not sure it fits. She's been making sure Katarina wears a hat when she's out working her field. Something about preventing sunstroke."
They passed a doorway flanked by Royal Guards in their distinctive black armor, and in the Medicinal Magic wing. Most of the building was lecture halls, small laboratories, reference libraries and offices, but there was also a patient ward, used for people that could only be treated by the ministries advanced or experimental techniques, or by one of the rare Light Magic wielders employed by the ministry, a number that was now one less since it turned out one of them had been working with the Marchioness.
There was also a much smaller, secured patient ward reinforced for prisoners who need to be healed. This was where they were heading. Thankfully, the Marchioness possessed no magic, but just in case she had given herself Dark Magic among her crimes, they had her secured as such. Chained to the bed, no one allowed within touching distance, eyes blindfolded, hands secured inside metal mitts to prevent touching.
She was asleep when they entered, but despite this she tossing and turning fitfully, her chains rattling from all the movement. Spots of blood on her bandages and the patient's robes she wore indicated where her wounds had reopened.
"We would have used Campbell's ingenious transfuser idea to keep her fed and watered without anyone having to get close to her," the Third prince said, "But as you can see, she's restless, so there goes that idea."
He turned towards Sirius, who was staring at the woman, smile gone. He frowned. "Are you all right?" he asked.
"Who's made contact with her since she was found?" Rafael said, face slightly pale.
"Why? What is it?" the prince said.
"Because… because…" Rafael swallowed. "I can see dark smoke wafting from her body. I… I think she's been exposed to Dark Magic."
Maria ignored the suspicious look Lady Hunt was directing at her. Lady Hunt seemed to be suspicious of her constantly, these days. Just because she happened to be correct that there was something to be suspicious about this time was no reason to let her know it.
Fortunately, a hunter learned very quickly how to get blood out of their clothes. As pleasant as the experience of being covered in blood was, it stained very easily. Thankfully she knew enough alchemy to be able produce the special detergent hunters used, allowing her to clean her clothes and get the smell of blood and, more importantly, offal off of her in time for this morning's classes. The detergent was merely one of several things she was trying to produce with alchemy, but it was for now the most useful. At least until she had enough money to commission a smith.
Still, the feeling of Lady Hunt's gaze boring into hers was getting a little annoying…
"Are you done with your paperwork, Lady Hunt?" she said, not looking up. "Then I suppose you can look over the candle order for the graduation party."
Without waiting for a reply, she slid the folder to the edge of her desk for the other girl to take. Maria ignored the way small wisps of dark smoke were wafting from her hand. The remnants of Dark Magic were lasting longer than they had in her tests, but she supposed the rather strong feelings she had about the formerly-Marchioness Dieke would account for that. How simple a matter it was to acquire Dark Magic, merely killing someone upon that strange sigil. Even a dead man was sufficient.
The school was filled with all sort of rumors about what had happened to the Marchioness. Some said bandits, others mentioned political enemies who had her hunted down, of secret uncaught allies of her who had turned against her for fear of being revealed. Other, more outlandish rumors spoke of crow-men from the stars, or mushroom people from beneath the earth having taken her to their ash palaces floating on poison lakes for a hundred years of torture before spitting her back out.
Honestly, the things people would come up with. Mushroom people! Everyone knew all there was beneath the earth were Pthumerians, living corpses, giants, old beasts, evil spirits, giant tick-women, and dogs.
"Ma– Miss Campbell, have you heard from Ra, er, Mister Walt lately?" Lady Claes suddenly said.
Maria looked up. Sure enough, she'd finished the cookies Maria had baked already. How is this girl's blood not thick as syrup? "No, Lady Claes, but I'm sure he's fine." Mainly because she sometimes snuck out and over to the ministry building to make sure Rafael was still alive and well in the room they'd provided him there. They should really improve their security, it was unsafe that someone could climb up the outside to the third floor and peer into a window for however long they wanted. Especially on a full moon. None of the guards even looked up! It was disgraceful. "Have the princes said anything that would make you think otherwise?"
Maria quickly passed her glance over the other memvers of the student council. Lord Claes still had a pile of paperwork in front of him, Lady Ascart was making calculations with an abacus, and Lady Mary was muttering over the folder Maria had given her. Hmm, much work still to be done.
Maria opened the drawer of the President's Desk she had commandeered. She'd have to remember to make more tonight… "More cookies, Lady Claes?"