Michael arrives at Count Mott's estate with Kirche and challenges the nobleman to a duel for Siesta's freedom.
Louise and Montmorency race toward the estate in a bid to find Michael before he gets hurt, meanwhile.
Rescue
Kirche and I step out of a heavily forested side road and out onto an open dirt track. The path leads toward a sprawling mansion house. It's the sort of building you see out in the countryside back home in England. It's three floors high with an immense number of rooms.
A vast courtyard stretches out in front of the building and that is ringed with very fancy high stone walls. I make out distant hedge sculptures dotted across the courtyard, too.
I can't help but whistle, immensely impressed and astounded by the sights before my eyes.
"Now this right here is money," I remark, looking to Kirche. "I've never seen a mansion this big."
"Have you not?" she asks with a curious look.
"Nope," I reply, shaking my head. "They don't make them this large where I live, that's for damned sure."
"Count Mott has the largest estate in the region, and possibly this side of central Tristain," Kirche explains, stepping nearer the outer walls with her arm still linked through mine. "He's rumoured to have over fifty servants and almost as many horses."
"Damn, that's a lot," I comment, looking the massive estate up and down.
"There is an old proverb in Germania. Never judge a noble by his estate," she reveals, peeking my way with a playful smirk.
I can't help but chuckle and crack a smirk. "That's funny," I tell her. "Meaning he's probably compensating for something with the sprawling house and armies of servants."
Kirche snickers at my assertion.
Together, we step through the entranceway and into the courtyard itself.
Toby whizzes over to one of the many hedge sculptures, this particular one a depiction of a nobleman dressed in fancy clothes atop a horse, and stops in front of the thing as though admiring it.
"The count certainly has quite the garden," the book observes.
"Makes you wonder why he wants a single maid so badly when he already has this much to his name," I mutter under my breath disdainfully, frowning.
Kirche and I continue strolling down the cobblestone path leading into the manor proper. The closer we get the more I begin to hear voices.
The voices are loud, raucous, and boisterous. There are people laughing and discussing food.
"This must be one of his afternoon socials," Kirche assumes, eyeing the manor's upper floors. "I heard about them, but this will be the first I see for myself. Count Mott apparently hosts somewhat regularly to impress other noble families."
"Well, I'm sure it'll be a memorable occasion," I quip sarcastically, shaking my head.
The two of us approach the entrance, a grand oak door twice as tall as a normal man. Kirche grabs the door knocker and pounds it thrice against the door.
I frown and step back a bit, taking in the building. I can see the faint glow of lights and movement inside. Someone is coming.
"I hear footsteps," Kirche whispers, her ear pressed against the door.
The footsteps grow louder. The door begins to rattle. There's a loud, metallic clunk as the bolt slides aside.
The door opens, and I find myself staring down at a petite, blond haired young woman. She doesn't look any older than Louise.
"Greetings, Young Sir, Young Madam," she addresses myself and Kirche with a respectful bow. "Might I ask why you visit the Mott Household today?"
"We're here to speak with the Count," Kirche answers. "My friend here would like to talk to him about a maid that is newly entering his service today."
"Oh, I see. Very well. Who shall I tell him is calling?" the maid inquires.
"Tell the Count that Lady Kirche von Zerbst, of the noble House Zerbst, seeks an audience with him. She is accompanied by her companion, Mr. DeSilva," Kirche answers with a respectful bow of the head. "A young man whom resides at Tristain Academy, at present."
"Of course, Lady Zerbst. One moment, please."
The maid closes the door behind her, shutting me and Kirche outside. The two of us wait for what seems like a good ten to fifteen minutes before the door swings back open again. The maid is there, smiling politely for the two of us.
"The master has retired from luncheon will see you. Follow me," the maid instructs.
The two of us walk after her. The hall is decorated in expensive paintings, tapestries, and furniture. There is a chandelier hanging above us in the ceiling.
"This is a really nice place," I remark, taking it all in.
"I can think of few who can match Count Mott when it comes to wealth," Kirche informs me with a smile.
"Might you be one of them by any chance, Kirche?" I ask her in a low tone.
"Well, yes," she admits with a small giggle.
I can't help but shake my head at the fact.
"The Count will see you shortly. Please, follow me," the maid beckons, and we do.
She leads us to the far end of the corridor. We stop in front of another large, heavy door. The maid pushes it open and we step into a spacious study. The room is lavishly furnished and several stacks up books sit atop a very flashy wooden desk across from the door.
I place Toby beneath my arm and step inside with Kirche after being ushered.
Count Mott stands by a large crackling Fire. Siesta perches by a writing desk off to his side.
The maid looks shocked and surprised as I walk into the room. She says nothing, though.
I notice a couple other maids off in the background. One has a tray with a cup and a pot on it. They're watching everything unfold.
"Welcome to my humble abode, my lady von Zerbst," the count greets, bowing. "What brings a fine young lady like yourself and your... friend," the Count adds somewhat coldly, "to my home today?"
I frown but remain quiet so Kirche can speak. This Mott guy's stuck-up, I sense it.
"Thank you, Count," Kirche replies, stepping forward. "I have come here today on behalf of a dear friend, here, Michael," the redhead explains, gesturing toward me. "He has a humble request to make of you regarding the new addition to your household, Miss Siesta."
Siesta flinches slightly her mention, her cheeks reddening.
"Oh, and what might that be?" Count Mott inquires, a curious smile curling his lips.
I bow my head somewhat reluctantly for Mott. I'll have to play the formal card if I want any chance of getting what I'm after here.
Think professional, Michael. Like the times you attended corporate interviews. Or the couple of times you had dinner at the captain's table aboard the cruise ship with dad.
"I know you've just taken Miss Siesta in, Good Count, but I'd like for you to release her from your service. So she can return with Miss Kirche and myself to Tristain," I explain as politely as I can, honestly hating every second of it.
I don't even bother asking him to release Siesta to me alone. I'm a nobody here.
Count Mott lets out a small, amused laugh. He seems pleased with my request, as though this is all some sort of game.
"So, you're telling me that you'd like to take a maid off of my hands, is that correct?" he asks, grinning.
"Yes, sir," I nod. "She's a good friend of mine and immensely valuable to Kirche," I answer, the last part a lie to try and add a little weight to the argument.
"And just who are you exactly, young man?" Mott asks me something smugly, almost mockingly. "Miss von Zerbst here, I heard of through her uncle, Count Rudolph, whilst on royal business to Germania last year. Yourself, however..." The Count narrows his eyes. "Well, I am clueless as to who you are."
"Michael DeSilva," I tell him, introducing myself. "I'm... acquainted with Louise de la Vallière."
I catch Kirche smirking at my improvised background.
"Ah, a friend of the young Valliere girl," Count Mott laughs. "So, a peasant then, hm?"
Shit. He's seen through me!
No, actually, hold on. Commoners and peasants can't use magic. Maybe I can fool him!
I extend one of my arms and prepare to snap my fingers.
"With all due respect, Count, a commoner wouldn't be able to do this."
I snap and ignite a small fireball within my palm. It's hot enough to warm the skin, but not to burn. I can see Siesta's face light up upon seeing it, the first real spark of hope on her features since Kirche and I entered the room.
"You can use magic? And without a wand, too?" Mott gasps, shocked.
"Yes, Count Mott," I nod. "As you can see, I'm no commoner. I'm a student at Tristain Academy of Magic, and I would greatly appreciate it if you'd be willing to hand over Siesta to me and my friend, Miss Zerbst."
"So, a mage," Count Mott notes with a nod. "Hmm. Well, I suppose I could consider the request. However, the problem remains that she is already contracted as a maid within my household."
I take a deep breath in and out, steadying myself for what's to come.
Kirche looks as though she wants to say something.
Stopping her, though, I douse my flame and take a step forward.
"Then I'll duel you for her, Count," I declare with a smirk. "If I win, you'll release Siesta to my custody. If you win, I'll leave and never trouble you again."
Mott laughs and claps his hands together.
"How amusing! Comical, even! Do you, a mere student, truly think you can best me?" the count mocks. "Why, I have won a dozen duels against the finest mages in the kingdom!"
"That's a shame," I sigh, shaking my head. "I'll have to break that streak for you, then. Let's settle this in the courtyard, Count."
"You have spirit, boy," Mott chuckles, rubbing his chin. "I will humour your challenge, but I have one condition of my own. If I win, I will enlist you until the end of this semester as an aid to find a valuable book for my collection. You will be an assistant, of sorts."
Siesta gasps at the count's proposal and looks fearfully into my eyes. "But Mister Michael, what about Miss Val-"
I raise my hand to quiet the maid, so she doesn't blow my cover when I'm close to freeing her.
"What kind of book, Count?" I ask.
"I am looking for a book known as the Grimoire of Passion," the haughty-ass nobleman explains whilst gesturing to a large oaken bookcase behind him. "It is a unique and one-of-a-kind tome depicting the beauty of the female form. I have searched Tristain far and wide for many years in a bid to find it."
Beside me, Kirche audibly gasps. It's soft, but I hear her because we're standing close together.
Whatever has her attention, it isn't as though I can stop and ask. Not whilst talking things through with Mott. He might change his mind if I annoy him.
"You know what, Count Mott? Sure," I agree with a firm nod. "I'll help find this 'Grimoire of Passion' for you if you win, and Siesta leaves with me and Kirche if luck's on my side."
"Very well," Mott declares, a triumphant smirk on his face. "Let us step outside into the courtyard then, shall we?"
I glance over at Kirche and motion her to follow. She nods.
"I'll go with you, Michael."
"Wass there something you wanted to say there, Kirche?" I ask the germanian girl at a whisper.
Her cheeks reddening a touch, she shakes her head. "It's nothing, I assure you."
Count Mott steps out of the study ahead of us.
Together, Kirche and I, followed closely by Siesta and the Count's other two servants, step out into the hall and follow after the count. He stops by the door. One of his two servants hurriedly rushes to his side and opens it. Then, smiling, he strides outside into the open air.
Siesta falls in beside me. She wears an especially nervous expression and has deeply flushed cheeks.
...
The count stops once he and I are in the centre of the courtyard. He turns toward me, his smirk still firmly in place.
I glance toward the house and see folks gathered by the windows. Probably those the count invited to lunch.
One among the onlookers, a young lady with curly white hair and powdered cheeks, watches intently whilst cooling herself with a paper fan.
"Are you ready to begin?" Count Mott asks, taunting me.
"I am, Count," I reply, nodding.
"Good," Mott grins.
He snaps his fingers, and the two servants at his sides stand well back.
One of them turns and runs back toward the house. And holy shit do they run fast.
"Where is she going?" I ask, turning toward the Count.
"Miss Marlene is fetching the paperwork to sign you into my service, of course," the nobleman explains.
I nod and force a smile, suppressing the urge to come out with a witty remark. "Understood."
Smug bastard. He's so confident he'll win.
Inhaling and exhaling again, I unclasp my cloak and hand it off to Kirche.
I then close my eyes and visualize a burning flame within my mind. It burns red-hot and crackles with deep blue light.
"Alright, Mikey boy, let's do this," I prompt myself with a snap of my fingers
Fire engulfs my hands and forms into two crackling orange spheres of magical energy. I'm ready.
"Let's dance," I declare, opening my eyes.
Count Mott laughs. He holds out his hand and a black, iron wand materializes within it. He points the tip at me.
"So be it. You've sealed your fate, boy," the count boasts.
"We'll see, we'll see."
I extend both arms outward and try with all my might to focus the magical energy surging throughout my body. The burning orbs confined within both of my palms erupt into fiery coils and snake down the length of my arms.
As they do, my heart kicks hard in my chest and nearly takes my breath away.
My eyes shoot wide. It felt like a knife jabbed into my chest just now!
"F-Fuck," I utter beneath my breath, struggling to regain myself. I still don't have proper control over the magic Louise gave me. outside of a simple fireball or two.
Count Mott's grin widens. Oblivious to my pain, or simply choosing to ignore it, he simply laughs.
"Hahaha, how pathetic!" he declares, laughing. "Wand or no, it is clear to me you are yet an amatuer, boy."
I glare at the Count, but I don't give him the satisfaction of a response.
Instead, I close my eyes and focus.
Come on, Michael, you can do this. Sharpen your thoughts. Concentrate.
I breathe in. Then out.
There. That's better.
Opening my eyes, I raise one of my hands and point it directly at the count.
"Go," I command, and a blast of flames shoot forth.
They're much larger than the small balls of fire I was tossing around earlier. These are thick, almost like a firehose.
They hit the ground several yards in front of the count, and he leaps backwards, away from the attack.
"This level of conjuration, and without a wand, eh?" the count remarks. "Interesting... I will retract my earlier statement, for the moment."
Mott extends his arm and points his wand toward the ground. A blast of green wind erupts from the end of his wand, and the flames surrounding him from my attack extinguish.
I narrow my eyes and grit my teeth.
Hurts so much that I'm struggling to breathe. And I haven't taken a hit hit yet!
"I-I'm outclassed here, Kirche was right," I whisper, unease gripping me.
Still, I refuse to back down. I'm not quitting on Siesta.
Even if whipping up the magic to do so it tears me apart.
...
Her arms still fastened securely around Montmorency for support, Louise gallops nearer and nearer to Count Mott's estate with every passing second.
Her heart hammers and she has a horribly bad feeling all of the sudden.
"Montmorency, hurry! Something's wrong," Louise tells her companion.
"What do you mean, Louise?" Montmorency asks, her tone baring a hint of unrest.
"I don't know," pink-haired mage answers, shaking her head. "All I can sense is a deep feeling of foreboding. Like a sickness in my stomach all of the sudden."
Montmorency nods and urges her horse to ride even faster.
"Don't worry, we'll reach the mansion soon," the blonde reassures her friend.
"Thank you," Louise says, sighing gently.
Her gut, however, tells her otherwise.
"I hope you're safe, Michael," the petite mage whispers fearfully.
...
I'm still trying to gather my composure from that last attack I conjured when the Count comes at me.
He's quick, almost too quick. He leaps forward and extends his wand toward me, a bolt of wind bursting forth.
"Fuck!" I exclaim, shocked by the older man's surprising speed.
The magical blast hits me square in the chest and sends me flying backward.
My back smacks hard against the ground, and the air is knocked from my lungs.
Everything hurts. The pain's everywhere it can possibly be. It's hard to think.
Gotta get up. Can't surrender. N-Not done yet.
Gritting my teeth, I roll onto my belly and force myself up.
"Come on, come on," I groan.
Count Mott cackles nearby. He's still a ways away, but I can see him. He's coming closer, step by step.
"Pathetic. You cannot hope to defeat me, boy," he scoffs.
"I've still got one more trick up my sleeve," I tell him, smirking.
Only one, too. So, this had better work.
The count raises his hand. Wind gathers at the end of his wand.
"You have no tricks left. Behold the true power of my wind magic!"
The count releases the spell, and a massive cyclone erupts from his wand.
I'm blasted back and thrown through the air once again. I crash down, and this time, the pain is so great that it takes everything I have not to pass out.
"Michael!" Siesta screams.
"Michael! Hold it together, darling!" Kirche gasps, running up to me.
"Stay back, both of you," I manage. "He's coming."
"You're foolish continuing on like this. Come on, Michael, this is hopeless," Kirche protests.
"N-No," I argue, struggling to even speak. "I promised her."
I look to Siesta. She's standing a short distance away, her eyes full of tears.
Need to get up. I-I have to. Doesn't matter about the pain in my back. O-Or the stabbing in my chest. I need to keep going.
I push myself to my feet, and the count begins approaching. He's still a bit of a ways off, but he's getting closer.
"Well, well, you've certainly lasted longer than I would have imagined," the count admits, laughing. "Unfortunately, this is the end for you."
"I'll see about that," I manage, trying not to fall over.
A second later, my ankle gives. "Shit..."
"M-Michael," Siesta murmurs, taking a few steps forward.
"Michael DeSilva!" Louise screams, the sound of galloping hooves alongside her.
Mustering everything I have left; I turn my head.
I see Louise and Montmorency riding straight toward the gates.
"Oh, hello girls. How wonderful of you to join us," Count Mott laughs, turning their way in greeting. "A pair of beautiful young visitors like yourselves are most welcome.
"Louise," I groan.
"Michael," she gasps, obviously noticing how beat up I am now she's closer. "Oh, no. You're duelling again..."
"I'm not giving up. He hasn't won," I say between a pained growl, struggling to stand upright.
"You're being foolish, boy," the count remarks with a stuck-up scoff. "Your time is up."
"No, not quite," I argue, grinning.
It's a lie, though. I'm out. Casting another spell will feel like someone's ripping into my chest with a knife, I just know it.
I'm clueless as to how I know. I just do. I feel it. And I feel it bad.
And yet, I can't let Mott have Siesta. She's not safe with him. Even if it wipes me out.
"W-Why did you challenge him, Michael?!" Louise yells, jumping down from her horse and running over to me.
The count, seeing his additional visitors interrupting the duel, dispels his wand, and eyes the unfolding scene smug intrigue.
"Louise," Montmorency calls after the pink-haired mage, but to no avail. Her trembling eyes are fixed squarely on me.
"I had to give it a shot, for her sake," I manage, gesturing to Siesta with a pained growl.
"Michael," the maid chokes, tears rolling down her cheeks.
Kirche kneels at the other side of me and touches her hand to my shoulder. Her doing so stings.
Glaring bloody murder, Louise snarls at the redhead. "Get away from him, you idiot!"
Kirche's eyes widen. She recoils slightly, looking hurt. "W-What?"
"You clearly put him up to this, Kirche!" the pinkette snaps, her tone laced with venom.
I shake my head and cough dryly. A speck of blood stains the path ad I do. "N-Na, it wasn't Kirche, Louise. This was on me. I came here because I wanted to- had to try and return Siesta to the academy," I explain. "All Kirche did was help me because I asked her to. None of this is her fault."
"W-Well, yes, it's as Michael says," the redhead nods. "I-I just wanted to help him, Louise."
A glint of pain shows through in Louise's angry eyes for just a moment. "You promised you wouldn't intervene. Y-You lied to me, Michael..."
I close my eyes and hang my head.
"Y-Yeah, I did, I wasn't honest with you," I confess to Louise, owning my choice like a man should.
"Why?" my mistress demands, her tone pleading.
"B-Because... I didn't want to lose her, Louise," I explain. "Siesta's important to me, and this smug noble wants her. Figured I'd try and free her. B-But I guess I fucked up."
Vision blurry, I slump into Louise's arms. I blink and blink again. My eyesight clears, but it still hurts too much to move.
"M-Michael," Louise manages, her eyes trembling.
"Hey, I Would've done it again if you'd been in Siesta's shoes, too, Master or not," I tell the girl with a thin smile.
Louise blushes deeply, but she's not embarrassed. She's angry.
"That's a lie," she hisses.
"Think what you w-"
"I demand to know whom you two young ladies are, at once!" commands the count with a stern tone and folded arms.
The maid from earlier steps out into the courtyard maid jogs to the count's side with a piece of parchment in her hands. The other maid joins her, taking her place at the count's other shoulder. Both wear blank expressions.
I glance at the girls, a distraction from the pain. Both are pretty young women with innocent faces and wide eyes. Both also wear skimpy outfits.
"I am Louise Françoise le Blanc de la Vallière," Louise declares, standing and facing the count. Kirche holds me whilst she does..
"Montmorency," the blonde states, not bothering with the full introduction.
The count laughs, amused. "Ah, yes, the youngest daughter of Duke Vallière. The young man here said he was a friend of yours," Mott notes with a superior smile.
Louise looks like she's ready to kill someone.
Breathing in and out thinly, she clutches a hand to her chest. "...He is my servant, Count Mott," the pinkette explains with a stern and serious tone. "And whatever his transgressions, I beg you forgive him."
Louise lowers onto hand and knee and bows.
"Louise, what the hell are you doing?!" I yell, wincing in agony.
The pink-haired mage turns and shoots me a look. "Shut up," she commands of me, her expression fierce.
I'm surprised when she then looks back at the count and speaks.
"P-Please, Count Mott. Don't punish this young man, and I'll do anything you ask in return."
"Worry not, girl, you may rise," Count Mott says, gesturing for her to do so with an outstretched arm. "This duel was agreed between he and I, as one magic-user to another. What's more - and despite his dubious background - he has addressed me with the proper respect deserving of my station. There will be no punishment."
I watch in silence as Louise rises to her feet, her expression still hard.
"However, the terms must be honoured. Your subordinate has lost to me, and he must submit to my conditions, as is proper," Mott continues.
"Which are, Count Mott?" Louise inquires with a raised brow.
"I-I agreed to surrender myself for rest of this school semester, to help him search for a rare book," I reveal to Louise, biting my lip and exhaling with a wheeze
"What?" Louise asks, her eyes widening and her voice cracking.
"The Grimoire of Passion," I explain. "H-He has some sort of weird obsession with it."
"B-But you're mine, Michael!" Louise declares, her eyes radiating hurt and surprise. "Y-You can't simply surrender yourself to someone else."
"I can't abandon Siesta, either," I retort.
Louise glances at the maid, her gaze lingering for a moment. "Y-You fool," she then murmurs, turning away.
"A-Actually, Count," Kirche speaks up cautiously. "I may be able to help you with this matter..."
"Oh? And what do you mean, Miss Zerbst?" the count questions, a grin on his face.
"That book Michael was talking about," the Germanian student begins, letting go of me and stepping forward. Montmorency kneels beside me and offers a supporting shoulder in Kirche's place. I take it gladly, offering her a tiny smile as thanks.
"Yes?" Count Mott presses. "Do continue, Miss von Zerbst."
Kirche clears her throat. "It's actually something of an heirloom within my family, you see."
The redhead opens out her cloak and brings out a small paper parcel from an inside pocket.
"And it just so happens that I am the custodian of this item."
I let out a shallow groan and and laugh bitterly. So, this is why Kirche reacted strangely in the study earlier! Fuck sakes, I'm an idiot.
Count Mott's eyes shoot open. "Is this a jest, girl?"
Kirche shakes her head. "Not at all. I would be willing to hand this item over to you, Count, on a few simple conditions."
"Oh?"
"Yes," Kirche follows, nodding. "You agree to release Siesta from your service, and never have anything more to do with her. Then, I would like you to provide Michael with a healing Elixir. Thirdly and finally, I would like you to prepare a return carriage ride to Tristain Academy for all my friends here Michael especially, as he is injured."
"Is that all?" the Count asks, his eyes fixated on the paper packet in Kirche's hands.
"What about the horse?" Montmorency asks, eying the white stallion's side standing by the outer walls.
"Oh, yes," Kirche notes. "Of course. The horse. I shall follow the carriage and ride him home, you needn't worry."
"Hmmm," Mott muses, rubbing his chin.
"Come now, Count," Kirche insists, holding the package out. "Do we have a deal?"
Mott nods his head and holds out a hand, snapping his fingers. "You have my word, Miss Zerbst. Now, please, the book. So I may check that it is indeed the item I seek."
The Germanian student hands over the paper parcel. "A done deal."
Count Mott carefully unwraps it and examines the Grimoire of Passion with a giddy grin.
"T-This is it! Marvelous. Truly marvelous!" Clearing his throat, the nobleman looks to the maid over his ride-hand shoulder, whom holds the parchment contract, and nods.
"As you command, Count Mott." She tears the piece of parchment, bows her head, and hurries off again toward the house.
"Very well. You all have my word. Siesta is free to leave," Count Mott declares.
The maid's eyes widen, and her jaw falls open.
"T-Truly?"
"Yes, Miss Siesta," the count answers with a firm nod. "You're free to leave."
Fresh tears leak from the maid's eyes. She falls to her knees, sobbing. "Thank you!"
"Now, if you would all step inside, the servants shall prepare an elixir and a carriage. We'll have you back at Tristain Academy just after nightfall."
"Very well," Kirche replies with a nod. "And do enjoy your tome, Count."
The nobleman opens out the grimoire and takes it into both hands. Asian girls with sultry expressions wearing swimsuits decorate the front cover.
I can't help but chuckle, even though it hurts.
"It's a damned porno mag," I say in a low voice, shaking my head. How in the Hell something like that ended up here is anyone's guess.
Can't complain, though. It's saved my ass! Siesta's, too.
"You've got your prize, Count," Kirche tells the haughty-ass nobleman.
Mott doesn't even glance her way. "Indeed, Miss Zerbst. You may rest assured that I will enjoy it."
...
I knock back the healing elixir Mott provided and lay back against the seat inside the carriage.
Louise wears a face like thunder and hasn't spoken to me since we pulled away from the estate's courtyard.
I don't blame her. I can only imagine how angry she is right now.
Siesta, sitting beside her, has been staring at the ground this whole time.
Montmorency, apparently tired after out after the spirited ride here, snoozes across from me with Robin perched on her shoulder.
Kirche rides the horse Louise and Montmorency brought with them behind the carriage.
"So, is anyone going to talk, or...?" I begin, looking toward Louise.
The pinkette doesn't even glance at me.
"Not right now, Michael. Please, let me calm down a little," she says.
I nod and glance out the carriage window.
It's already nighttime. Again, this world's two moons large white glow in the star-dotted sky.
"I-I can't thank you all enough," Siesta then murmurs, breaking the silence.
"I'd thank Kirche, honestly. She's the one who saved you," Louise mutters coldly, glancing my way out of the corner of her eye. "All this idiot did was get himself hurt again."
"You didn't have to come rushing to my rescue, you know," I remind her.
"That's enough," Louise snips, glaring. "Please, Michael. Just do as you're told for once and be quiet."
I sigh and turn back to the window. "You got it, Louise."
I won't joke with her right now. As convinced as I am that helping Siesta was the right thing to do, lying to Louise like I did was out of order.
That, and the hurt in her eyes when I confessed to it honestly cut kinda deep.
She's right, sometimes.
I am an idiot.
Our ride stops in the academy courtyard and the driver gets off. It's been a long, quiet journey home.
Louise quickly disembarks the carriage and storms off in the direction of the dormitory wing without so much as looking at me. Montmorency follows her without a word to me, either.
Kirche, with a maid's guidance, walks the borrowed horse borrowed horse off down the path. But not before glancing back over her shoulder and flashing me a wink first.
"Goodnight, handsome," she purrs, blowing me a kiss.
"Night, Kirche, and thanks," I say, bowing my head.
Satisfied with my farewell, the redhead trots off with the maid in tow.
Sighing, I lean by the carriage. Siesta climbs down from inside of it and stands close to me. Her eyes quiver with emotion and her smile is the brightest I've ever seen it.
"Michael," she utters softly, her voice wavering.
"Yeah?" I ask, stepping closer.
"T-Thank you. For everything."
I smile a bit. "Hey, it's no problem. That's what friends are for, right?"
The maid blushes a little and nods. "Right."
She steps closer and hugs me tight.
"I'm sorry, Michael," she whispers, her head pressed to my chest. "For the trouble I caused you."
I stroke her hair and give her a gentle squeeze.
"It's alright. I'd do it all again for you if I had to," I admit with a chuckle.
Siesta pulls away and looks up at me, a shy smile on her face.
"R-Really?"
I nod.
"Course I would."
The maid blushes harder and averts her eyes.
"H-Hearing you say that that means a lot to me."
"Well, it's the truth," I tell her.
Siesta glances at me and smiles.
"M-Michael...?"
"Yeah, Siesta?"
"There's... something I'd like to ask you," the maid begins, her cheeks pinkening.
"What's up?" I ask, my brow raised.
"Join me in the carriage for a moment, so I can tell you in private," the dark-haired girl implores, her big blue eyes full to bursting with tenderness.
"Sure," I agree, climbing up into the carriage and taking a seat.
Siesta sits down and takes hold of my hands, smiling.
"What did you want to tell me, Siesta?" I ask, curious.
Cupping my cheek and pressing her ample chest to mine, Siesta leans in close. "N-Nothing really, nothing at all. I just wanted you to myself for a moment longer."
Closing her eyes and snaking an arm around my waist, she purses her lips and leans her face nearer mine. An offering.
My heart leaps into my mouth and I feel my own cheeks burn hot.
"S-Siesta..."
The maid chuckles and re-opens her eyes. "You've done so much for me, Michael. It's only natural that I'd show you how grateful I am."
Closing her eyes again, Siesta parts her soft lips a little and gently presses them to mine with a whimper.
I close my eyes and lean into the embrace, holding the maid close as I return her kiss.
Siesta moans and deepens our shared moment, her tongue teasingly probing my lips.
I tease back and part them a little, allowing her warm wet tongue to meet my own.
We moan into one another, kissing passionately as I cup her cheek and run my other hand through her soft hair.
"Michael," Siesta purrs, pulling away from me with a gentle smack of our lips.
"Well, I haven't kissed like that for a very, very long while," I admit with a deep exhale, my heart hammering.
"Neither have I," the maid replies with a shy smile.
I stroke her hair, gazing into her captivating blue eyes. They wetten with joyful tears.
Siesta giggles and leans forward, hugging me again.
"I'll never forget what you helped do for me today, Michael," the girl pledges with sincerity.
"You'd better not," I tease, grinning.
Siesta kisses me once more on the forehead, and then stands.
"Well, I should probably return to the servant's quarters and go to bed," she tells me, stepping back and climbing down the carriage steps. "Goodnight, Michael, and sleep well."
"Goodnight, Siesta," I say, waving after the young woman.
A few moments later, the carriage door shuts and I'm alone.
"Damn," I mutter, sighing. My lips still tingle from the kiss Siesta and I shared.
I run a hand through my hair and chuckle.
"Tristain is a quirky place, that's for damned sure," I remark with a small, sleepy smile.
Sitting back, I gaze out the carriage window at the moonlit courtyard.
"Michael DeSilva!" screams Louise from her bedroom window into the courtyard. "Get in here, now!"
"I guess there's no rest for the wicked," I say with a groan, standing up. "Coming, Princess."
Opening the carriage door, I hop down and stride toward the dormitory wing.
I'm ready to see this day finally end.
I sigh, my chest the slightest bit heavy with guilt.
"And I'll make it up to you for lying, too, Louise. Promise."
To be continued...
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