She had a means of finding her mother. Had this been yesterday, she was sure she'd be on a horse already, riding it to death as she used the magic tool to point her in her mother's direction.

That was yesterday.

Today, she was calm, cold and rational, and hope was to be tempered with reason. As such, she tested if the magic tool would actually direct her towards her mother.

From the way its head was hesitantly looking left and right, its stubby arm reluctant to point at any particular direction, Maria did not think things were promising.

"It DID say it had a variable success rate," Rafael said, but he looked grim as he did so.

"I suppose it should come as no surprise to me mother does not feel very strongly towards me," Maria said blandly.

"Don't assume the worst," the Third Prince said. "Larna Smith?"

"I should have realized," Larna Smith said. She was frowning thoughtfully. "You said she's in the clutches of a Dark Magic wielder, right? It's possible that woman's Dark Magic is interfering with Alexander. We might need a more powerful focus of emotion."

"More powerful than her daughter?" Lady Hunt said. "What could be stronger than the bond between mother and child?"

For a moment, there was a frustrated silence.

Then Katarina said, "Anne, you try it."

Everyone blinked, staring at Katarina, who for some reason was staring intently at her maid and badly suppressing a grin.

"My lady?" Miss Shelley said, looking surprised.

"Why don't you try it Anne?" Katarina said, clearly trying to look innocent and just managing to look like she was trying not to look smug. "You're friends with Mrs. Campbell, right? I mean, you write a lot of letters to each other… all the time… every day. I'm sure you have some sort of deep emotional connection… as friends. Just try it. What's the harm?"

Maria had to wonder if Katarina had ever managed to get away with anything when she was younger. She was absolutely horrible at controlling her face. Miss Shelley was staring at Katarina with wide eyes and mouth ajar for some reason though. Perhaps she hadn't thought her mistress had realized she'd been spending so much time on personal correspondence? Had she been stealing paper and ink from Katarina or something?

"Here, Miss Shelley," Maria said, offering the magic tool to her. "It is worth the attempt."

Miss Shelley– she'd definitely been caught out about something, her cheeks were gaining bloodtinge– reluctantly reached over to take the magic tool. As she touched it, its head snapped to face a particular direction, and it raised its arm to point– before wavering slightly, but pointing at a more narrow general direction.

"It's… working?" Lady Hunt said, sounding surprised.

Maria let go, and as she did, the magic tool's movements became more uncertain. It was still pointing in the same direction but somehow it seemed to be less sure of itself.

"And it's back to having trouble," Prince Alan said. "It seemed to work better when both of you were touching it, right? Or did I see that wrong?"

"No, I saw that too," Rafael said. He turned to Larna Smith. "Can that work? Give it two focuses of strong emotion for that person?"

Why was Katarina squealing like that? Maria never understood why she sometimes squealed loudly in that manner, but this seemed a very strange time for it. And it was not only she who thought so. Miss Shelley was growing very red at her mistress's inappropriateness, averting her face from secondary shame.

"I guess," Larna Smith shrugged. "I mean, we saw it happen just now."

"It's still uncertain, though," Prince Ian noted. "Is there no way to increase its capability?"

"Well, I suppose–" Larna Smith began coyly.

"My blood," Maria said. "I am a much more powerful Dark Magic wielder than Sora. If the magic tool used my blood, its magic should grow greatly, perhaps enough to either overcome any interference or at least perform its function with greater sensitivity."

"I cannot confirm a matter that is a Ministry secret," Larna Smith said, looking both impressed and annoyed. "Incidentally, Lady Maria, have you ever had your blood drawn?"

After performing Ministry secrets that quite definitely did not rely on using blood or mixing it with quicksilver, the magic tool was pointing with greater certainty... but only if both Maria and Miss Shelley held it.

"That's a very good sign," Larna Smith said. "And of course it will grow stronger as we get closer, wherever that is. It shouldn't take long to figure out where your mother is, Lady Maria!"

"Lady Campbell," Maria corrected half-heartedly. "And do not be silly, Larna Smith. We can find where my mother is being held now."

There was a collective blink. "We can?"

Maria nodded. "All we need is ship's compass, and a good map. For best results, we should take readings from the opposite ends of my lands."

Everyone looked at her blankly.

"Ooh, this is trigonometry, right?" Katarina said. "You're going to write down where Ugly Bear points at your mother at two different points on the map, then draw where those lines meet and that's where your mother is!"

There was a beat.

"Er, yes, exactly Lady Katarina," Maria said as everyone stared at Katarina, then at the Third Prince. "It will be rough, since the magic tool is not yet very precise, and the maps aren't exact, but it should give us a good indication of our eventual destination."

"Yay, I guessed right!" Katarina cheered. Everyone kept staring at the Third Prince, as if wanting to know how Katarina had come to a sensible, technical conclusion before him.

"Um, yes," Maria said. "I'll go and call Ghirardeli. I recall a ship's compass in one of the rooms upstairs…"

As Maria went to do just that, she heard, behind her, Larna Smith saying, "L-Lady Katarina, have you ever considered working at the Ministry? Perhaps a research or laboratory position?"

An Alice Interlude

When Alice awoke, she found herself in a room she'd never seen before. She couldn't move her arms or legs. From what she could see, she had been bound with rope, and was laid down on a bed.

She remembered the sound of breaking glass… the sounds of violence coming from below as she'd locked the door to her room and tried to lean her weight against it to barricade it… someone crashing into the door repeatedly, finally battering it open, and two women entering her room… there'd been pain, and her memories stopped short there. From that point on, her recollections were hazy, but filled with pain. That was all she could remember…

Just as Alice started to look around fearfully, trying not to cry or scream, the only door to the room opened. A woman she had never seen before entered the room.

Upon noticing that she had woken up, the woman's eyes narrowed and she walked toward Alice slowly. "Been a while." The woman walked up to the bed and looked at Alice with a twisted smile on her face. Messy hair, scarred hands and a hateful gaze… Alice could practically feel their hatred as a physical thing, a spiritual heat on her Dark Soul.

This woman... she didn't remember ever meeting such a person. Alice tried not to whimper, tried to get her fear under control. She didn't understand what was happening, didn't understand what was going on…

Perhaps that upset the woman. Their face seemed more and more displeased.

"What, too good to say anything? Not good enough to talk to decent people, you noble-fucking slut?" She practically spat out the words in Alice's face, then actually did spit for good measure, the spittle landing on Alice's ear.

Alice flinched. She tried to speak, tried to understand…

"P-please… why…?"

The moment she said that word, a streak of pain flashed across her face. The woman, now red-faced, had slapped Alice with the full force of her arm.

"Shut up, slut! You don't get to talk, not anymore! All these years, all your lies, casting him aside… spreading your legs for…" The woman was incoherent as she raised her fist once more, striking Alice. "We see you! We see you sleeping with that noble! You were never good enough for him, not like I was!"

With her arms and legs restrained, all Alice could do was endure the beating as the woman flailed and ranted at her, both her emotions and strikes uncoordinated and seemingly random. Yet they still both hurt, as the wild flailing struck at her unprotected body, as the words that she'd thought she'd inured herself to years ago were thrown at her face again and again. Duly, it occurred to her this woman must be someone she knew, someone who lived in her town…

With her face contorted by hate and rage, Alice didn't recognize her. She must have been someone she'd once known, but when many people had turned their face away from Alice and Maria, when they'd rather whisper behind their backs and throw insults and rumors… it was no wonder she'd stopped bothering to recall who people in the town were.

As Alice hazily entertained those thoughts biting down to keep from crying from the pain the still-nameless woman, who was still railing on her in an equally hazy way... Alice became aware of another woman standing behind her tormentor, near the door. Her black hair had no order to it — it just flowed. She appeared to be almost the same age as Alice's daughter, or at least near there.

She was smiling. She was smiling as the red-faced woman continued pummeling Alice with fists.

It chilled Alice, that innocent, child-like smile. For the eyes above that smile held no warmth or empathy or compassion or even recognition. The girl might as well have been smiling at a piece of meat being prepared for cooking.

Her innocent smile sent shivers down Alice's spine

Ah... what will become of me? Will I never see her again?

Alice closed eyes, thought of her daughter, her quiet, intense, strange, but loving daughter. She tried to draw strength from her, from memories of her tall, unflinching gaze.

A dark part of her, who had heard the strange stories circulating about her daughter, prayed they met her blade.

Steeped in pain, Alice tried to endure as the small, subtle smile of the woman she had come to love floated in her mind.