Henrietta attends an emergency meeting chaired by Headmaster Osmond concerning Fouquet's theft of the Staff of Destruction.
Later, Michael comforts a worried Louise and goes to supper with Siesta
...
I also have a couple of questions for my readers.
Firstly, if this story's rating increased to M and the romantic story elements became a little more intense, would you be okay with that?
And secondly, which girl do you think best fits with Michael right now? Or, would you perhaps like to see his relationship with a specific girl blossom further?
Feel welcome to share your answers to each of these questions in a review or PM!
Emergency
Princess Henrietta attends a meeting of academy instructors chaired by Headmaster Osmond.
The old mage discusses Fouquet's theft the Staff of Destruction from its rightful place in the vault during the Familiar Exhibition.
Despite requests from several senior mages and advisors that she return to the royal palace, the princess thought it only right she remain at Tristain Academy. Especially with manhunt for Fouquette now in its second day and there having been no sightings of her so far.
Worse, Henrietta grapples with guilt over the whole terrible situation.
After all, this might not have happened had so many guards not been transferred to her protective detail during her royal visit.
Clearing her throat and standing from her chair by Osmond's desk, the future queen raises her hand to speak.
"Given the responsibility I feel toward this unfortunate incident, I feel it only prudent to offer a suggestion. So that we might broaden our search for the missing staff," says the crown princess.
Osmond nods his head and asks her to continue.
"Well sir," Henrietta says. "I believe enlisting several skilled students to aid with finding the staff may prove useful," she goes on. "Should the faculty deem doing so prudent, of course."
Osmond considers the suggestion with a deep hum, and then nods his head.
"A fine suggestion, Majesty," he muses with a thoughtful expression on his face. "However, I would politely advise that we only employ such a strategy once we have a credible lead as to the staff's location. The woodlands surrounding this institution are vast, as I'm sure you are aware."
Humbly taking her seat at the dismissal, Henrietta gives the old mage a subtle nod.
"But of course, Headmaster."
Just then, the door to Osmond's office squeaks open and Professor Colbert steps through.
Eying the younger mage with curiosity, Osmond links his fingers into a loose clasp.
"Ah, Jean. Please do come in," he encourages young man. "I trust you bring news regarding our ongoing search?"
Professor Colbert gives a single nod as he sits down.
"Thankfully, Headmaster, I do," he replies.
Henrietta's tummy flutters hopefully.
"Oh?" she says. "You've found the staff, then?"
The older man shakes his head.
"I'm afraid not, your highness. However, I do believe we have a lead as to the whereabouts of Fouquet."
The entire room falls into silence.
After a second or two of this, Osmond stands to his feet and places his palms upon his desk.
"Tell us everything, Jean," he commands in a soft but stern voice. "It is essential that we recover such a powerful artifact at once."
Colbert stands from his seat. Clearing his throat to speak, he folds his arms behind his back.
"Of course, sir," he says. "I have just returned from re-examining the trail of destruction left behind by Fouquet's towering golem. And, as it so happens, I found a set of tracks breaking off westwards through the trees. They begin near to the earthen mond where Princess Henrietta's guardsman concluded their search yesterday."
"Fascinating," Osmond breathes out. "And what did these tracks suggest?"
"Well, Headmaster, I followed them until I reached small clearing. There, I found what appeared to be the cloak worn by Fouquet; it was nailed to a tree with a dagger and had this note in its pocket."
Reaching inside his coat, Colbert takes out the paper missive and unfolds it.
Osmond holds out a hand, at which point Colbert crosses the room and hands the note to him.
Henrietta's stomach twists nervously as the headmaster's eyes dart across the parchment's surface.
"This is... most concerning," the old man muses.
"What does it say?" Henrietta asks, leaning forward in her seat.
After a moment's hesitation, Osmond passes the note over to Henrietta.
Taking a short breath in and out, the princess reads, "To whomever may find this message, I have taken the Staff of Destruction into my possession and will only consider returning it for a substantial sum of coin. If you wish to negotiate further, meet me in the woods just outside the town of Lenore at sundown two days hence. Come with a small group, or do not come at all. -Fouquet."
Henrietta looks up at Osmond, her eyes wide with alarm.
"Is it a trap, sir?" she asks.
Professor Colbert nods his head.
"I would certainly say so, Highness," he answers.
"I concur," agrees Osmond with a look of apprehension. "There is little reason to believe that this thief would ever agree to give up the staff freely."
"Which gives way to a fundamental question," Colbert continues, folding his arms. "Who among us willing to spring this trap in a bid to see the staff safely returned?"
Osmond scratches the stubble on his chin thoughtfully.
Henrietta looks across the group of instructors. Almost all of them wear uneasy expressions in light of Colbert's question.
"Are none of you here at all willing?" asks Osmond, looking around the room.
No one says a word.
As the silence stretches, the headmaster's face contorts into a stern frown.
"Very well," the headmaster speaks up. "Colbert, can I rely on you for this task?"
The younger man bows his head and says, "Of course, Headmaster. It would gladly put Fouquet in her place for humiliating us while in the presence of royalty."
"Splendid," replies Osmond, clapping his hands together. "And, in with regards to Princess Henrietta's earlier suggestion, I would have a small group of students go with you. To aid in the staff's safe recovery, naturally."
"Students, sir?" asks Professor Colbert.
Osmond nods his head.
"Her Majesty made a very compelling argument for its employ," he says. "On this, we have just agreed. And, in light of the current, dire circumstances, our Academy stands in need of more able-bodied mages to aid the search."
"Very well, Headmaster," the Professor agrees, bowing his head. "You and I can discuss appropriate candidates once this meeting concludes."
Osmond nods his head too. Then he places his fingertips together and smiles at his staff.
"With that in mind, I see fit to bring this discussion of ours to a close. Instructors, you are free to go. And again, our warmest of thanks for your choosing to remain at the Academy to lend us your support, Princess," he says to Henrietta with a slight bow of his head.
The young royal shakes her head, flattered.
"It is truly my honour, Headmaster. On behalf of myself and Queen Marianne, I am more than happy to represent the crown during this time of dire importance," she responds.
With that, instructors begin standing to leave. Each gives Henrietta a respectful bow before departing the office.
Once all of them have gone, Osmond walks out from behind his desk and toward the door.
"Again, Majesty, you have shown exemplary grace in this meeting," he renarks, shutting the door. "Fouquet's actions reflect poorly on all of the academy."
The princess stands from her seat. She then bows her head.
"Indeed they do, as do they reflect poorly on myself," she states. "Had your guards not focused their attentions on protecting me, then the vault would have been properly defended," she goes on with a contrite look of regret. "Indeed, knowing my visit likely aided in this theft... Well, it pains me so."
Osmond's cheeks go very red.
"Your highness, it is far from your fault...!"
"Perhaps not in the eyes of the teachers and students. Unfortunately, however, I fear that the palace will view this incident far differently," she replies with a dejected shake of her head. "After all, the fact remains that far fewer guards were assigned to the vault when Fouquet struck."
At this, Osmond straightens his posture.
"Well then," he says. "Let it also be known that I bare you no ill will, Highness. Your safety was, and remains my top priority while you grace us with your presence."
Smiling, Henrietta nods her head.
"I thank you for that, sir."
Osmond smiles and lets out a chuckle.
"Not at all, your majesty," he replies, stepping aside as Henrietta begins to leave. "Again, please accept my sincere and humble gratitude. You are welcome to stay with us for as long as you please."
A short little while later, Princess Henrietta exits Osmond's study. Closing the door behind herself.
Two royal guardsman, who have kept close watch over the room, fall in at her sides.
Awfully pensive and preoccupied by her sense of guilt, Henrietta lets out a short sigh and begins on the way to her guest chambers.
"Perhaps I shouldn't have come here after all, as Miranda suggested," she whispers, clutching a hand to her chest.
The princess having departed, Colbert relaxes his posture and pushes his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.
"She will make a fine queen someday soon," he notes in a low, contemplative voice. "Such a noble, intelligent character."
Clearing his throat, Old Osmond nods.
"She will indeed, Jean. She most assuredly will."
A moment passes, and then he shuffles back toward his desk.
Closing his eyes, he reaches for his pipe and lights it up. Taking two small puffs from its bowl.
All the while, Professor Colbert watches him.
"Any decisions in regards to those students, Jean?"
Closing his eyes, the Professor takes in a deep breath and exhales it through his nostrils.
"As a matter of fact," he says, taking a seat in the chair by the desk. "I believe there is."
Intrigued, Osmond raises his eyebrows.
"Tell me," he urges. "To whom do you allude?"
"Miss Vallière's familiar, to be precise," Colbert replies. "Is it true that his performance at the Exhibition earned him, in fact, second place overall?"
The old man nods his head. "It is, yes. Succeeded only by young Miss Tabitha's display with her rhyme dragon, Sylphid."
Colbert smiles.
"I had already intended to tutor the young man between lectures," he explains. "Should he accompany me on this task, it may prove a useful informal training opportunity."
Catching his meaning at once, Osmond straightens himself.
"Are you prepared to include him, Jean?" he asks carefully. "Should you do so, Miss Vallière will doubtless insist on going with him, also."
Colbert does not respond to this observation immediately. Instead, he shifts his position.
He then clears his throat, ready to approach the topic of Miss Louise... tactfully.
"...I had considered Miss Vallière's... ineptitude, I assure you," he replies softly. "Which is why I will likewise extend invitations to two of her more skilled classmates. Miss von Zerbst and Miss de Gallia, to be exact. So that they might provide additional support where the Vallière girl cannot."
Osmond turns his eyes skyward and chews on the stem of his pipe.
A grin tugs at the corners of his mouth as at Colbert's decision.
"An astute decision, I must say," he muses in approval. "Have the group come to my office tomorrow morning and we will inform them of the situation regarding the missing staff."
Colbert bows his head and responds with a single, crisp, "Of course, Headmaster."
Osmond gets out his chair and nods his head. Taking a final puff from his pipe, he straightens his back with a short groan.
"And with that, Professor. I'm afraid I must return to my duties," he tells his colleague. "Princess Henrietta's comfort and safety remain pressing matters, I'm sure you understand."
Colbert dips his head politely. Afterwards, he heads for the door.
"Naturally," he remarks.
"Good day, Headmaster," he follows, turning the handle.
"And the same to you, Jean."
Wiping a hand across his brow, Colbert walks out of the office.
Wrenching the door shut, he lets out a loud, exasperated breath.
"You have no idea the trouble you have caused us, Miss Longuevuille," he murmurs darkly.
I help Louise out from the bath. She carefully climbs down the wooden steps with one of her dainty hands in mine. It's always surprising how small her hands are compared to my own.
Slipping down from the last step, her soft soles hit the ground with a tiny slap.
One hand still clasped in my own, she looks up at me with bright pink, bashful cheeks.
"Dry me please, Michael," she instructs, her voice barely above a whisper.
Taking her towel, I spread it out. Then I scoop her petite body into my arms and pull the fabric around her. Drying her front, she looks up at me with those glimmering pink eyes.
"Make sure you get it all, too. I don't want to catch a chill, you know."
Biting the inside of my cheek, I nod.
"Don't panic, I'm on it," I answer.
Louise had me wash her body the other night. Now, she has me washing and drying her.
The part of me that doesn't feel uncomfortable over all of this feels like a damn slave!
I've never had someone treat me like this... and I'm fairly certain anyone else would get paid for it.
Actually, scratch that. Not in this world they wouldn't.
My cheeks flush with red as I attempt to keep my eyes off Louise's body.
Or, more specifically, her butt.
While she isn't all too developed in most areas, she has a rather a nice behind.
Oh- Dammit, Mikey, quit looking!
Swallowing hard, I shake my head. Then, thankfully, my heartbeat steadies.
Now dry, I offer up a fresh nightgown to Louise. She lifts her arms up into the air and, taking her nightgown, I slip it on for her. My fingertips grazing her flesh as I work it over her frame. She draws it down once her waist is exposed, folding it where necessary as she moves her arms through the holes.
With my mistress dressed, I grab a fresh towel from the table beside the tub and finish drying myself down the rest of the way. Taking my white shirt, I slip it on and fasten up the buttons. I then grab my trousers from their place on one of the hanging racks.
Louise gives a huff at my feet.
"What?" I ask, looking to her. "Did I do something wrong?"
Her brow twisting, she shakes her head and replies, "No, you didn't. I'm just in a bad mood, I suppose."
"Oh?" I murmur, folding my arms. "The crazy crap with Fouquet earlier?"
Louise lets out a heavy breath. "Of course... Poor Henrietta looked simply beside herself with sadness. I know her; she probably blames herself for all of this," she sighs, lowering her gaze.
I finish putting on my trousers. Afterwards, reaching out a hand, I gently grasp Louise's shoulder and do my best to soothe her.
"Hey, now," I smile. "What makes you think that?"
Louise's face twists again, this time as though she's about to cry.
"Because," she whimpers, blinking back her tears. "The palace is a very strict place... And the princess has been stuck between its politics since we were small," she sniffles.
Reaching up, Louise pulls the collar of her nightie up to her nose and blots her eyes with its rim.
Wincing at her pain, I reach forward and pull her into an embrace. She seems more than happy to hold me.
"Well, whatever happens, I'm sure you'll do whatever you can to help her through it, right?" I ask, squeezing her.
"Y-yes," the petite mage snivels into my chest.
Stroking my hands through her silky-soft hair, I smile against the crown of her head.
"That settles it, then. You'll be fine."
There's another sob. Louise then she pulls away.
Sniffling and dabbing her eyes, she points back toward the doorway.
"We're going, idiot," she manages with her red-rimmed eyes. "Get your cloak and shoes and hurry it up. And tuck your shirt in too," she adds.
If Louise is well enough to insult me, she must be coming around.
I smirk and smooth my wet hair back.
"Yes, madam," I reply while doing as instructed.
"Much better," she hums. "Follow me."
"Just a sec," I say to the pinkette.
Straightening my belt, I fix my collar in place and turn up my cuffs. I then slip on my shoes and tie the laces up. Lastly, I grab my cloak.
"I'm all done, Louise," I announce. "Okay to go?"
It takes her a short moment, but Louise bobs her head.
Following her out the door and into the hall, we move quickly down the corridor. Because it's pretty damn cold tonight!
Not as cold as last night, but still uncomfortable.
Louise was shivering like a leaf at one point. She fell quiet a little while after returning from dinner, and that's when she ordered me to draw her another bath.
"...Has your body stopped hurting now, Michael?" Louise asks, snagging my wrist and holding onto it.
"From the exhibition, you mean?"
She nods again.
"Yeah, it's eased off now," I assure the girl with a smile. "Still, it was worth it to put on a show for everyone. Well, for the most part," I chuckle.
I doubt the entire school with think of me like some backwards oddity now. My little performance hopefully went a long way in changing their minds.
Louise smiles a bit at that.
"Perhaps..."
Making our way through the halls and corridors, we arrive outside of Louise's room.
"... Although, I didn't think that listening to music from your strange Ipod thingy would let you pull off something so... dramatic," she snorts with a grin.
"Yeah?" I chuckle back at her. "Well, maybe it's all about focus or something. I dunno," I hum. "At any rate, we heading in, Princess?"
I offer her the tiniest of bows.
"...Cheeky," she breathes, slapping me on the shoulder.
"Woman, I've put up with your attitude for way too long," I tut, brushing her swipe away. "Can I get some damned recognition?"
Louise turns the handle and pulls open the door. Stepping back, she glances over her shoulder at me.
"Maybe, if you continue impressing me like you did today," she replies with a strangely... alluring smirk.
Walking into the room, Louise heads for the wardrobe near the window on the far side of her bedroom. Pulling out a fresh uniform and skirt for tomorrow, she lays it out at the foot of her bed. Folding up the fresh laundry she turns her eyes toward me.
"The door, please Michael," she prompts, flopping down on her bed like a starfish.
"Yeah, yeah..." I roll my eyes, securing the entryway.
Turning around, I see Louise resting at the side of the bed. "Comfy?" I chuckle.
The pink-haired girl nods.
"Very much so, yes."
Nodding, I walk over to the table next to her bed and light one of the candles. A soft flicker illuminates the room. The night breeze blows the curtains out and around.
"God, I miss my padded jacket right now," I grumble, hugging my arms around my middle.
Louise rises from her bed and sighs.
"Sit down, Michael," she pats the space beside her.
Doing as I'm told; I take off my shoes and sit down on the bed beside the pinkette.
Closing her eyes, the young lady rests the back of her head against my arm.
"It has certainly been a long day," Louise exhales.
"Very," I agree.
Yawning, my mistress cuddles up close to me.
"I do apologise for being a bit grumpy since we returned from the exhibition earlier," she says softly, her breath warm on my neck.
Draping an arm around her slender shoulders, I chuckle. "Don't worry about it. You're no worse than usual."
Her nose curling up, Louise then slides out from under my arm and socks me in the shoulder playfully.
"Idiot."
Giggling, Louise lets out a tired breath and sets her small hands onto her hips.
"Actually, Michael..."
A gentle rap against the door cuts the girl off from whatever she planned on saying.
"Go and get that, please," Louise gently urges, poking me in the small of the back.
Standing up, I find the latch and slide it up.
When I tug open the door, I find none other than Siesta standing out in the hall.
Her lips rise into a wide smile at the sight of me.
"Good evening, Michael."
A heartbeat passes before she ducks her head and curtsies. "Pardon me, but I come baring a message for Miss Vallière and yourself."
This gets my attention. Looking at the maid, I fold my arms and cock an eyebrow.
"Anything important?" I ask.
Having heard Siesta's voice, Louise nudges her way in to the side of me, a look of quiet frustration on her face.
"Oh, it's you, Siesta," she greets the maid with faint hint of... I want to say coldness.
Siesta sets her gaze on Louise and gives her another respectful bob.
"Apologies for the disturbance, Miss. Professor Colbert has requested Michael and yourself meet him at Headmaster Osmond's office tomorrow, at noon," the girl relays with a deep bow of her head.
Louise takes a beat to absorb this.
Then, with her frown firmly in place, she nods.
"Well, thank you, Siesta," she finally tells the girl, "We'll be there. Now, is there anything else?"
Siesta gives a tiny nod of her head.
"Actually, Miss... I was hoping I might invite Michael to the kitchens for dinner with Marteau and myself," she offers.
Louise gives the girl a quick look up and down. Biting her lower lip, she then exhales through her nose.
Finally, she looks to me.
"Well, I suppose you didn't get dinner, given it was too cold to wait by the steps for me like you usually do," she acknowledges in my direction. "So, if you wish to join them then I won't complain, just so long as you return as soon as you finish."
The smallest of smirks curves the maid's lips upwards. Her luminous eyes sparkle excitedly.
"Yes, of course, Miss Valliere," she obliges, a soft giggle leaking out.
Nodding, Louise gestures for me to go.
Sighing, I shake my head with a smile. "Be back soon, okay?" I tell her as I start through the door.
Louise raises a brow and folds her arms across her small chest.
"I would certainly hope so, Familiar. For your own sake."
Shutting the door behind me, I turn to see Siesta glancing at me with a bright smile. "You're in trouble," she seems to warn me as she chuckles to herself.
Shrugging and cracking a smirk, I offer Siesta a hand.
"I'm always in trouble when it comes to Louise," I comment.
Siesta's chuckle turns into something of a mischievous titter as she clasps her hand with mine and tightens her fingers around my own.
Then, together, the two of us begin down the hall.
"As far as I see it, Miss Vallière should consider herself lucky to have you," the girl tells me matter-of-factly. "Especially after what I heard of your performance at the Familiar Exhibition today."
"Oh?" I raise a curious brow. "What've you heard?"
Her stride carrying a certain spring, Siesta answers simply with a sidelong glance, "That you conjured amazing flaming spirals on the stage, of course!"
As ever, news spreads fast.
I don't recall exactly what I did, though. Really, I was just lost in the moment with my music. There are a few flashes of recollection, but they're a bit fuzzy.
While Siesta recounts the second-hand scene in detailed whispers, we head down the first-floor staircase together and step out near the dormitory exit.
"Flames like a dragon, they said?" I repeat back to the maid, a brow quirking upward. "Alright, I seriously don't recall doing anything that cool."
"Well, that's what my friend said," Siesta insists. "She watched you perform from the back of the crowd - between delivering plates to the kitchens earlier."
The corner of her lips pinching upwards, she presses out her lips.
"In any case, I'd like for you to conjure them again sometime," she suggests, turning and glancing into my eyes. "Perhaps... just for me?"
Upon seeing the way the maid gazes at me, I can't help but feel a little warm in the cheeks. Siesta's closeness, as well as the tenderness in her eyes, seriously snags my heart.
"I-I mean, I don't really know how I did it... but I suppose I can try again sometime, Siesta," I murmur as we turn onto the path leading toward the kitchens. "Since you asked so nicely and all."
Siesta looks like she's going to squeal with delight when she hears my reply, but, somehow, she controls herself.
"Thank you, Michael," she murmurs into my shoulder.
"You're welcome."
Shuddering against the chilly evening air, I bring myself nearer to Siesta's side.
The two of us continue on our way in contented silence, happily walking along side by side up to the kitchen's front entrance.
Releasing her hand from mine, Siesta grabs the door. Bringing it open with a polite bow of her head, she ushers me inside with the sugary sweet giggle.
"After you, sir," she urges with a wide, gleaming grin.
"Uh, sure thing," I reply with a quick, grateful smile. "Seriously, though, I should be opening the door for you."
Moving inside of the kitchen. I find it almost entirely empty. Except for Marteau.
The head chef looks up from a table covered by spread of breads, cheeses, and sliced meats with his usual hearty smile. Cups of tea wait in our usual seats, too.
"There he is, my champion!" he greets me warmly.
Siesta pulls the door shut behind herself and smiles.
Marteau's thick brown brows arch up his large forehead. "And Siesta, too!"
The fellow in chef whites claps his hands, his eyes bright and full of spirit.
"Nice to see you, Marteau," I greet him with a relaxed wave of my hand. "Those picky nobles still causing chaos your dinner menus?"
"Oh, like you wouldn't believe," the burly man huffs through his bulbous nose. "And, you'll be unsurprised to hear you mistress remains among the worst.
Laughing, I sit down in my seat across from the head chef.
"Louise? Oh, I believe it."
Marteau wedges a sizable piece of bread and meat into his mouth, and hums.
Siesta sits down beside me.
Finished chewing, the chef reaches over and gives me a strong slap on the shoulder.
"Well, what are you waiting for, lad? You've got all of this food! Dig in!"
Bubbles of hunger twist around inside of my stomach.
"Thought you'd never ask, Marteau," I say, slapping a few slices of cheese onto my plate and digging in.
What feels like a good fifteen to twenty minutes sees me wolf down plenty buttered bread, and meat slices from the ample selection.
Wiping a crumb from the corner of my mouth, I look up at Siesta's glowing, gleeful face.
"So, what were we talking about before?" I ask the girl curiously, shifting a piece of ham around on the tip of my fork.
"I believe we were talking about the magic you performed at the exhibition, silly," she giggles.
Flickering her long eyelashes, she prods my arm with the tip of her forefinger.
"Oh, right..." I chuckle. "Forgot about that, blame the food."
"Aye, Siesta's co-worker Francesca wouldn't stop going on about it all morning!" Marteau booms between stabbing a thick slice of what looks like salami with his fork. "Way I see it, lad, you should've had a crack at that golem while you were at it, too."
I laugh off the cook's seriously insane suggestion.
"Noooooo... You clearly didn't see the size of that damned thing! It was huuuuge!"
Lifting my arms as far as they can stretch out, I motion the size of a boulder with my hands.
"Plus, Louise would've killed me!" I chortle. "Not I didn't wear myself out with that performance, anyhow."
Laughing softly, Marteau takes a bite out of his meat.
Siesta takes a tiny sip of her tea, and peers over the rim of her cup, nodding. "I for one am glad you didn't, Michael. I would've been beside myself had you gotten hurt."
"Aww! Now would you look at that, Michael? Our Siesta's simply head over heels for ya!" Marteau grins as he pats my shoulder. "Better get a ring on her finger already!"
"C-Chef, please! Don't say things like that...!" Siesta squeaks, almost choking on her tea.
I turn an amused glance on the girl.
"Oh...? So, I'm not marriage material, hmm?" I tease, raising a brow.
Siesta swallows her tea and shakes her head frantically.
"It's not that!" she squawks, her ears looking flush. "...I just- Well, what I mean to say is-" The maid holds her head in her hands and whines. "Goodness, I don't know what I want to say..."
Marteau and I break out into a united laugh, clanking our cups of tea together before sipping.
When I'm finished, I give Siesta a soft pat on the shoulder.
"Don't worry, Siesta," I reassure her. "I'm only teasing; I bet you'd make a great wife."
Almost spilling her tea for a second time, the maid shoots me a pleading glance and blushes.
"Micheal...!"
Setting down his plate, the head chef chuckles and points the prongs of his fork at the two of us.
"Don't mind me, lad. Our Siesta is a pretty one, that much is for sure," he comments, crossing his thick arms across his toned middle with a toothy grin. "Which is all the more reason I'm thankful she has a good fellow like yourself standing in her corner."
Shrinking a little from the praise, I rub my nose and share an awkward glance with Siesta.
"Thanks, Marteau," I turn back to the chef and give him a thumbs up. "You know me by now, I'm not one for giving up on people."
With that, the two of us nod at each other, knowing full well some of the situations I've landed myself in since arriving in Tristain.
Looking to Siesta, I smirk as I see her staring at me with those big lovely eyes of hers.
"Wanna walk back with me to the dorms?" I offer. "Louise is bound to get mad if I'm gone too long."
Siesta puts down her tea and tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Then she nods.
"But of course, I'd be happy to go with you, Michael!" she chirps.
The girl scoots her chair out.
I extend a hand, helping her to her feet.
Marteau chuckles and gestures toward the door.
"Off with the two of you... before it gets even colder out there," the Head Chef instructs, polishing off a chunk of cheese with gusto. "As always, Michael, it's a pleasure."
I make a small, polite bow to the chef and turn around, quickly linking my arm through Siesta's.
"Take care of yourself, Marteau," I wish the man a good evening as the two of us make our way out into the night.
Cold air greets me, hitting me in the face as I start up the path. I do my best to focus on the warmth and gentleness of Siesta's arm against my own. It's also relaxing just spending time with her like this.
Actually, it's more than that. There's a real homely, comforting feeling to the evenings she and I share.
Pressing in closer to the girl, I shut my eyes and keep walking. I can't tell how much of my food coma is to blame. Regardless, I continue ahead.
"Would you like to get married someday, Michael?" Siesta asks affectionately, resting her head against my shoulder.
"Mm... I'd like to," I smile, knowing that Anna was the person I'd considered the most for it.
And equally knowing my not getting engaged to her likely played a part in her banging Steve.
I shake my head.
Don't think about it, Michael.
Instead, I concentrate on the two of us, on the here and now.
"What about you, hmm?" I quiz, re-opening my eyes and tilting a glance at her. "Think you'd be down with taking the plunge?"
Siesta squeezes my arm with a warm, flirtatious trickle of laughter.
"Well..." She gives a small chuckle. "I believe I'd definitely consider it, should the opportunity ever present itself."
Hearing that, my stomach sinks. And I know the Hell why.
Actually, screw it.
The more I open up about my fears, the more it'll help me get my shit together.
Or, at least, I hope it will.
Snuggling in, I listen to Siesta's breaths and try to take comfort in her presence. All the while, a tiny voice in the back of my mind telling me I don't really deserve the tenderness and gentleness of this moment.
Don't I?
Probably not. Yet, here it is anyway.
Fuck sakes, Mikey, stop questioning everything and just speak!
"Hey, Siesta... If you loved someone enough to want to marry them, and they... didn't want to marry you, would it make you love them any less...?"
"Don't be silly, silly," The maid says gently, rubbing her cheek against my chest. "No matter what, I would still love and adore them for who they are. As long as they remained faithfully by my side, I would never stop caring about them."
An overwhelming weight lifts from my shoulders upon hearing that.
Maybe I'm not to blame for how things turned out with Anna. And, maybe I shouldn't nail myself to a wall over how our relationship ended like it was entirely my fault.
Yeah, it's okay feeling scared over entering into a new relationship. That's fine. Before you even consider heading down that road, though, just quit wallowing in self-pity.
Starting right now.
"Siesta," I say with as much certainty as I can.
Stopping outside the dorms, I turn and take Siesta by the hands.
Her breath catching and her eyes fluttering in surprise, the maid looks up into my eyes.
"Yes, Michael?" the exhales, searching for some indication of what I'm about to say next.
Tightening my grip on her hands, I manage a small smile.
"You being honest just now... It's helped me square away some crap I've grappled with for a good long while," I thank the girl.
"...It did? I-I mean... I did?"
Nodding, I wrap her in an embrace.
"Look, I know you like me, Siesta, a lot. And... I'm not ready to tackle that yet. But, after how much you helped fix me just now..."
I breathe a deep sigh, knowing full well what I'm about to put to her is more than a little selfish.
"I really want to kiss you, as my way of saying thanks," I tell the young maid.
Noticing how this only causes the beautiful girl to blush scarlet in my arms, I let out a chuckle.
"...That okay?"
The maid reaches up and takes my face into her delicate hands.
"W-well... yes, it is," she confirms in a whisper.
Bringing Siesta in close, I press my lips against the girl's forehead, then onto her cheek, and finally her mouth. Closing my eyes, I savour the tender warmth and taste of her.
Siesta embraces me once more, sliding her slender arms around my waist. Shivering all over, I can't be sure if it's from the cold or excitement, but I don't care.
After months of living in agony back home, I'm finally free.
When our kisses finally end, I go on resting my forehead against Siesta's. Feeling warm in the cheeks, and a little dazed, I have to resist the urge to pull the girl in for another.
Smiling a bright, ear to ear kind of grin, she gives a little giggle.
"Oh, Michael, that was wonderful," Siesta announces, seeming ready to melt in my arms.
Her lips then curve upwards as she nuzzles her nose into my chest and looks up at me.
"I only wish I could go on standing here forever like this with you."
Holding Siesta close, I stare back at the young maid with a smile of my own.
"Afraid I don't trust myself enough to stay out here with you much longer," I confess with a chuckle.
The girl's cheeks burn furiously at my admission.
"Th-that makes two of us," she stammers, letting out a sigh.
My heartbeat hammers against my chest at a million beats per minute.
Reaching up with her dainty hand, she runs her fingers through the long, wavy threads of my hair. She smiles dreamily. Her eyes widening all the more when she feels me wrap a bit of her dark, beautiful hair around my own finger.
"And here I thought you were all sweet and innocent, Siesta," I whisper.
Smirking, I place my hand on the small of her back and tug the girl's body in flush against mine. Arousing a thrilled sort of squeal, the maid clings to my neck.
With a start, she pulls back. Flushing even deeper than before, the maid laughs and shakes her head.
"...M-My older cousin is quite the flirt, as I told you," Siesta manages with a small pout. "I-I fear her attitude may have rubbed off on me a little bit."
Coming to the very tips of her toes, Siesta hugs my neck even tighter still.
"But- Ooh...!"
With every passing second, it gets harder to resist the sensations bombarding me. Every bit of Siesta – from her delicate, curves, to the delicious smoothness of her skin as it presses up against my own – makes me want nothing more than to stay.
It takes all the strength I can muster, but, finally, I manage to ease myself away.
Unsure whether I'm sad, or relieved, it's like I've just finished quenching my thirst after a marathon run.
Siesta shares the sentiment; the poor girl looks like she is just barely holding herself upright.
Despite that, her warm, serene, beautiful face blossoms into a wonderful smile.
"I adore you, Michael," the maid tells me.
"I... think I know that, now."
Blushing, I nod.
"I think I do, yeah," I admit with a slightly bashful laugh. "...But I need to get myself into a place where I'm ready to commit. Or, maybe I just need to have some fun after so long out of the game. And, if it's that second one, well... I couldn't bring myself to do that to you."
The same for Montmorency, too. And, perhaps most importantly, Louise.
Taking Siesta's hands, I hold them tight between us and work up a small smile.
"Not because I think it'd disappoint you, or anything like that. Because I care about you too much to hurt you in the same way I was hurt."
There's nothing but understanding in the maid's dark, sparkling, adorable eyes.
"If I made you feel unwanted then I'm really, really sorry..."
Shaking her head, the girl rubs her nose against mine.
"Michael... You are a kind person, and an equally lovely friend!" She holds herself in me and smiles. "Truly... I wouldn't mind waiting for a boy with a heart as beautiful as yours."
Gripping my hands tight, she stands a little ways back and then brings them together, planting a gentle, lingering kiss on the backs of my fingers.
Then, the wonderful woman smiles.
"Do go inside before it gets too much colder, and try not to let Miss Valliere give you too hard a time, 'kay?" she urges gently, tipping up her chin to offer me a playful smile.
Nodding, I set off through the dormitory building's doors.
Behind me, I hear the fading sound of the young woman's warm, precious chuckle.
While climbing the staircase leading to my and Louise's room, I can't help smiling the biggest smile in my recent life. To the point where my mouth aches a little.
Eventually relaxing my face as I reach the top of the stairs, I begin toward Louise's room.
"Who'd have thought being pulled into a literal other world would help glue my life back together?" I whisper to myself quietly as I reach Louise's door. "...Suppose I should get inside before I freeze."
Twisting the doorknob with a hand, I shove my shoulder against the door, opening it.
In the candlelight sitting lit at the windowsill, I find my petite pink-haired mistress sprawled across her bed. Arms and legs spread wide like a starfish; she snores gently. Grimoire Toby is placed next to her with his pages wide open.
Smiling at the sight, I step through the door and then close it behind me.
"Thanks for keeping her company for me, fella," I say, placing Grimoire Toby down onto the small wooden desk opposite the end of the bed.
The book doesn't answer, but instead, his cover hums with magical light for a second.
Walking over to the bed, I remove my cloak and drape it over Louise. With it off, I undo my shoes and socks, then I flick off my trousers.
Finally, I lift the covers and slide into my mattress bed.
Groaning softly, Louise stirs in her sleep.
"Michael...?"
I roll over and give a quick to the dainty mage
"...Yep, I'm back, Louise," I hum, smiling for her.
The girl lifts her body from her bed slightly, rubbing her eyes.
"What are you doing down there, idiot? You'll freeze," she states quietly, patting the spot beside her. "Come on up here and keep me warm, will you?"
Biting down hard on my lip to stop myself from snickering, I rise up from the floor and get into the four-poster bed.
"Orders, huh?"
Louise's queen-sized feels so darn soft, I am nearly ready to cry out with delight. Yet, somehow, I manage to show a little restraint.
"Yes, it is," Louise replies, peeling away my cloak and getting under her duvet. "Now, hurry it up."
"Be right with you," I chuckle, getting into the bed beside her.
After Louise blows out the candle, I wrap my arms around the petite girl's curvy frame and draw her body to my chest.
Although startled at first, my mistress relaxes pretty quickly and even cuddles up further in the process.
"This okay?" I ask, keeping a gentle embrace around the fragile girl.
"Yes. Go to sleep now, we can't wake up late when Professor Colbert needs us tomorrow"
I laugh quietly and reply back softly, "Night, Louise."
As I lay there holding the petite pink-haired girl in my arms, her small, soft breaths tickle my neck
Focusing on them for a few moments more, I feel myself relaxing.
Finally, my senses fade and I drift off to sleep.
To be continued...
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