A huge thank you to everyone that's stuck with me these past (nearly) three months.

The groundwork is officially laid in this slow burning tale. To this end, the rating will change in a few chapters time to reflect the shifting tone.

You can excpect warmer romance scenes and a few dark moments here and there, too.

...

Henrietta seeks a moment's respite from royal duties. Her attendant Miranda recommends she speaks with Louise.

Later, Louise finally accepts her feelings toward her gravely injured familiar without restraint.


Royal Judgement

Dressed and prepared for the day's many royal duties, Henrietta sits by the vanity table within her Tristainian Academy chambers.

Deep in thought, she frowns at her reflection in the dresser's mirror.

Much has happened in the days since her arrival here. Perhaps a little too much, in all honesty.

Exhaling gently, the young lady closes her eyes for a brief moment.

"A princess's duties never cease, it seems," she laments with a pained smile.

"They do not, Highness," confirms Miranda, taking her place at Henrietta's side and resting a gentle hand upon her shoulder. "What's more, with civil war in Albion and the matter of Fouquet's sentencing left in your hands, I fear you will face yet greater challenges in the coming days."

"I know, Miranda. I know," Henrietta sighs.

"My lady, might I offer a suggestion?"

"Of course. What is it?"

"You have been rather stressed, Highness. Might I suggest you allay your woes by speaking with Miss Vallière? If I recall, the two of you were the closest of friends when you were little," the older woman offers, her eyes gentle.

"We...were. Yes, I think you're right," the young princess smiles slightly, the notion lifting her spirits.

"Then allow me to send her a message, Highness. I'll have come to your chamber with all due haste."

"Very well, Miranda," Henrietta's smile widens a touch. "Thank you."

"As ever, your wellbeing is my primary concern, Princess," Miranda smiles in turn. "Fear not, I shall always be near to guide you through difficult times."

Her dear companion's words comforting her, Henrietta rises from her chair and nods curtly.

"Although... Do not think your sneaking out a couple of days prior to speak with her eluded me, young lady," Miranda furrows her brow and pouts at the princess, resting her hands on her hips.

Henrietta jolts, shrinking somewhat into herself before gulping and offering her best innocent smile in the wake of a faint blush.

"Y-You saw me...?"

"Quite clearly."

Henrietta sighs softly.

"...And here I thought I'd been exceptionally discreet at the time. Will you tell my mother?"

"Not on this occasion, My Princess. You have had much to contend with these past few days," Miranda utters with a small huff.

"Thank you, Miranda," Henrietta sighs once more, visibly relieved.

"Not at all. However, do be warned that I will not be so forgiving should you be so foolish in future," the older lady adds with a glare.

"Understood. Again, I'm grateful."

Miranda finally cracks a wry smile and offers Henrietta a half-bow.

"Now then, pardon me for a short time, Highness. I'll send word to Miss Vallière for you."

"Yes," Henrietta beams, watching the kind lady head for the door.

...

It isn't long at all before the door to her chambers creak open, the click of boot heels filling the silence.

"Ah, Louise. It's good to see you," Henrietta voices with a warm smile, her eyes easing at the sight of her dear childhood friend.

"Princess Henrietta. I thank you for calling upon me," the girl replies in turn. Closing the door, she steps further into the room and drops onto hand and knee. "Do you have need of me...?"

Henreitta simply shakes her head and gestures for Louise to stand.

"Please, Louise. Raise yourself. Why, given how long the two of us have been friends, to hear you address me so formally makes me...well...it just doesn't sit quite right with me," Henrietta remarks with a somewhat sullen look. "I simply wished for the two of us to talk, that's all."

Glancing up, Louise offers the girl a slightly awkward smile and nods.

"Thank you, Your Highness. And apologies. I understand," Louise rises to her feet.

"Of course. As I said, you needn't be so formal with me, Louise," Henrietta mutters with a small head tilt. "Being honest with you, I just need someone listen to me. Not as an advisor or a knight of the realm, either. As someone I trust."

The Princess gestures toward the dinner table by her elegant four-poster bed. "Please, let us sit and catch up for a while. Nothing would please me more."

"Ah, well..." Louise peers toward the table, then back to Henrietta herself, but it isn't until the young lady meets her gaze that her eyes soften.

"It would be my pleasure... Henrietta." Louise lowly steps across the room and takes a seat at the table.

Seemingly, Henrietta smiles and walks the short distance between the door and her chamber's dining table. Sitting herself, the princess is quick to take note of the various bread loaves, cups and kettle as well as the rather sizable basket of cherries sitting on the table.

The breakfast she unfortunately hasn't had time to enjoy yet.

Louise gets to work pouring Henrietta and herself tea. Then she takes a slow, cautious sip.

"...How does your familiar fare, Louise?" Henrietta finally queries after taking her cup and saucer from her friend. Awaiting an answer, she takes a small sip.

Worry glints in Louise's pink eyes at her question.

"...He still hasn't awoken yet. Nor does Colbert or Master Osmond offer any promises that he will anytime soon, either," she hangs her head. "I purchased a second potion to aid in his recovery, at great expense. H-However... It is too soon to know if it is working. This is his third day asleep."

"...I see," Henrietta frowns ever so slightly. "You really care about him, don't you?"

"Yes," Louise manages, quickly composing herself and returning to her tea. "Even if he's reckless. And a total idiot when it comes to risking himself... I-"

A single tear streaks down her cheek and she casts her eyes aside in shame. "I care about him, Henrietta. The thought of him never waking again is... It's too much for me to bear."

"Oh, Louise..." Henrietta offers one of her hands for her friend. A reassured sigh is the response when the young girl takes it. "He is your familiar. It is only natural that you feel that way."

Then and there, Louise's cheeks redden deeply.

"N-No, Henrietta... It... It's more than that, I think," she admits rather reluctantly. "I need him. Even as my parents, my family, the Academy...a-almost everyone told me time and again that I'm a failure... He... M-Michael is the only one that never gave up on me."

Louise looks down to her hand as her fingers clutch Henrietta's as though for dear life.

"...I'm falling for him, Henrietta... and I don't know what to do..."

"Well," Henrietta smiles at her friend in reassurance, keeping a firm grip on her hand. "Worry not. I will do everything in my power to make sure he recovers."

"Y-You will...?" Louise blinks in confusion at her.

"Of course. Should your potion not work then I shall have another purchased from the royal coffers. The finest money can buy."

Louise's eyes slowly widen and she begins to smile.

"T-Thank you, Henrietta... Truly, from the bottom of my heart," the girl voices with a respectful nod and an appreciative look. "I'm unworthy of your boundless friendship."

Henrietta gives Louise's hand a gentle squeeze.

"Hardly! I consider myself very lucky to have such a loyal friend in you."

Louise remains silent but smiles fondly.

"But... there's one other thing that's weighing heavily upon my mind, now that your feelings concerning your familiar are known to me."

"What would that be...?" the smaller girl lifts her head a fraction.

Henrietta merely peers at her intently with gentle, patient eyes.

"What of your betrothal to Wardes? Your parents declared you would marry him, did they not?"

At this, Louise's face momentarily scrunches into a look of conflict much to Henrietta's notice.

"Yes..." the girl sighs somewhat resignedly. "They did indeed... But I haven't so much as seen the man since he and I were formally betrothed. That was almost three years ago."

"Oh... I had no idea, Louise," Henrietta gives her friend an apologetic nod.

"Mmm-hmm. And Michael... Well, it isn't as though I can simply take him home to meet Mother or Father. A-And especially not my big sister Éléonore..."

Groaning, the girl holds her head in her hands. "I can already hear her now. "You would insult our family by bringing home a commoner like that? Did we not raise you better?""

Louise peeks at Henrietta behind her palms with an irritable scowl.

"They'd have him banished! Or try him for violating our social order, and... A-and..."

She takes a quick, uneasy breath.

"And I would certainly never see him again."

Henrietta offers a small, comforting smile.

"And despite these woes, do you still love him...?"

She receives a sharp nod from Louise, her eyes pleading with her friend in turn.

"He's precious to me, Henrietta. I cannot... N-No... I will not give up on him!"

"Then you have made your choice," Henrietta smiles and lowers her hand, reaching toward the basket of cherries and taking a plump, red fruit in her palm. Popping the stem with her fingers, the princess delicately places the cherry in her mouth and rolls it over her tongue.

"...Oh, these are very sweet. Somewhat tart, though," the young woman whispers mid-mastication and peers pleasantly to Louise.

Slowly, Louise's countenance saddens.

"...Do forgive me for making this all about myself, Princess. I'm sure your burdens weigh far heavier than mine," the girl utters with a crestfallen smile, downcast.

"Perhaps... but the ones we love are something many people can relate to," Henrietta voices reassuringly.

"...Like you and Wales," Louise replies with a thin smile and a flicker of her eyes.

"Yes, just like Wales and I," Henrietta parrots wistfully, taking another cherry from the bowl before her and rolling it gently within her fingertips, her heart yearning for the prince of Albion as the faces of her people suffering during this great civil war cross her mind.

"When did you last see him, Henrietta...?" the pinkette asks timidly.

In an instant the Princess's brow furrows and her eyes glimmer with angst. She lifts the cherry to her lips.

"...Much too long ago. Before the rebels raised their standard against the royal family," the noblewoman grimaces. "Now he hides away, far from where enemies may find him. This rift that is growing between us... It is frightening. My heart aches every day knowing his life is in danger."

She places the cherry onto her tongue before biting into it in a moment of frustration, allowing her memories to return to the last time she and her beloved Wales walked arm-in-arm.

"Yes... And you two were truly meant for each other," Louise says in sympathy. "He's an exceptionally handsome man, Henrietta. Not to mention so kind and sweet."

The smallest of smiles rises to the princess's face.

"He is all those things... And even when we were but children, I always thought so."

Louise smiles supportively, an emotion the princess gratefully reciprocates whilst taking another cherry into her palm.

"Henrietta... Is there a way to do something about this tension between Albion and Tristain? To stop these feuds and just have everyone get along?"

Shaking her head, the princess frowns. "If only it were as simple as that, Louise."

Just then, a knock at the door momentarily startles both young women.

"Your Highness, Headmaster Osmond and Professor Colbert wait in the courtyard with the prisoner," Miranda informs her charge from beyond the door. "It is time for you to pass sentencing on Fouquet."

Henrietta blinks twice, bewildered.

"The time has come...? So soon...?"

Miranda's voice is heard once more.

"Indeed."

Henrietta sighs resignedly. "Very well, then. Thank you for letting me know."

As Miranda walks away from the door, the princess turns to her friend with an apologetic frown.

"It seems our time has drawn to a close, my dear Louise," she laments, standing from her seat. "Pray tell, will you stand by me while I decide upon the thief's fate?"

"Hmm?" Louise blinks incredulously. "I would love to accompany you, Henrietta, but... Surely that's not my place. Surely these matters are best dealt with solely by you."

The princess shakes her head.

"Purely for support, I assure you. Passing royal judgement is usually a task reserved for my mother, you see," the Princess explains with a short sigh. "It seems she intends to test me while I am here, to ensure I have what it takes to become queen."

Louise nods slowly in response and stands.

"Then I will gladly accompany you, Your Highness," the shorter girl presses her arm across her chest in a court bow.

"Thank you, Louise," Henrietta smiles. "As ever, I can always depend on you."

Smiling and chuckling, Louise steps past Henrietta to lead her out of the door, only looking back when her friend takes hold of her hand in hers once again.

...

Henrietta stands ready to do her duty as Tristain's future queen. Anxiousness races in her heart.

Bound and kneeled in the Academy's courtyard, Fouquet gazes at her expectantly through the brown-coloured square frames of the round, metal glasses she wears.

Royal guards circle the captive criminal with their weapons drawn.

Two are just a few feet behind Fouquet, their spears ready to thrust into her should she try to escape.

Many students have gathered, as well. They, too, wish to see the passing of her judgment.

Holding her breath, Henrietta remains frozen in place just outside the doors to the Academy with Louise standing respectfully beside her, hands crossed over her chest.

"My mind is made up," she quietly declares before narrowing her gaze, proceeding to the waiting Fouquet.

Henrietta comes to a stop in the dead centre of the throng of students and guards, taking a subtle breath in turn.

"Do you confess to your heinous deeds, Fouquet the Crumbling Dirt...?" she addresses the would-be thief.

Said woman only narrows her own gaze.

"...I've no reason to confess. You already have me in ropes, do you not?" Fouquet snaps caustically.

"...N-Not for a lack of trying on behalf of a brave few, believe me," Henrietta retorts with a wince.

Colbert then chooses this moment to advance. He bows to Henrietta and stands beside the villainess.

She eyes the man, a wound across his face stitched closed by magic and a small scar in its place, with utter disgust.

"How would you care to punish her, Highness?" Colbert inquires with a formal nod. "Her most recent crimes are unprecedented, and have caused this school great shame."

"I am well aware," Henrietta replies just barely loud enough for the surrounding onlookers to hear.

Fouquet sneers in reply. "Then what will you do with me, Princess...?"

Henrietta glances around the courtyard. Only when her eyes are drawn to Louise does she breathe out with an uncertain smile.

"Even in the face of wickedness, there is merit in mercy, is there not?" the poses, her gaze returning to her captive. "...The royal family will not take your life this day, Fouquet... However, your punishment will be severe, regardless. You are wanted for many a high-profile theft, after all."

Fouquet lifts an eyebrow.

"Is that so...? Then what are you planning, Princess Henrietta?"

The young noblewoman closes her eyes.

"You will serve a decade of imprisonment in Tristania's royal tower - as a reflection of the countless crimes you are suspected of committing across the land. And should you attempt escape, then your life will be forfeit," the Princess decrees with an air of authority.

Though she wants to flinch, Henrietta forces herself to remain standing straight and dignified. To show her people - as well as Fouquet - that she is a noble ruler.

"Guards, take this woman from my sight and escort her back inside. We leave at noon tomorrow."

Her orders briskly uttered, several of the men flanking Fouquet and Colbert immediately grasp her by her arms and pull her upward onto her feet.

Fouquet scoffs mirthlessly and stares daggers into Henrietta, nodding shortly in acknowledgment while doing so.

"As you command, Majesty..." the armoured guards speak in unison.

"Yes. As Her Royal Highness commands," Colbert likewise concurs, bowing at Henrietta in respect.

She offers a curt nod in return and watches as her guardsman and Fouquet disappear into the confines of the Academy building.

The princess is keenly aware, however, of the low murmurs spread through the student body. There is surely dissatisfaction at the lightness of the thief's punishment.

Henrietta however, simply sighs, happy to be done with the whole dreadful affair.

Only when the young noblewoman feels Louise bow at her feet does Henrietta smile.

Moments later, the gaggle of students clear from the courtyard to grant their princess peace.

Moving to her charge's side, Miranda lets out a tired, albeit proud, sigh. "We have naught else we need to accomplish today, Your Highness. The criminal is handled."

"Yes," Henrietta smiles and takes both Miranda's hand, and Louise's in hers. "And I thank the both of you, for supporting me in your own ways with this rather... unfortunate situation."

"Not at all, Princess. I will always stand by you," Louise pledges in a small voice.

Miranda nods, though her lips show a touch of angst.

"Shall I see to the orders dealing with Fouquet's transportation back to Tristania? You look rather exhausted, Your Highness."

"If you would, please. Tonight is our final night here before returning to the capital, and I would much rather spend it resting above all else."

"As you wish," Miranda agrees with a swift court bow. "I shall handle matters personally."

"Many thanks to you, Miranda. Louise. I shall take my leave now, for some well-earned rest."

With a fleeting nod to both her friend and her attendant, Henrietta begins toward the Academy's frontmost entrance. Guards fall in at her sides as she does so.


Tristain's starry night sky gleams brilliantly overhead.

Louse, gazing longingly at the two moons, clutches a hand to her chest.

"I wish I could share this moment with you, idiot..."

Her lips frown and she pouts, as her mind reaches out to Michael in the hope that he can sense the kindness she feels toward him.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps through the grass breaks her concentration.

Glancing back, she spots Montmorency walking toward her with a courteous nod.

"It's quite the beautiful evening, is it not?" the blonde pauses, following her gaze out to the grand Tristainian night sky.

"U-Uh... Yeah. Indeed it is," Louise agrees, glancing downward in modesty. "Beautiful in many regards, actually."

For only a moment, Montmorency holds a knowing look. "You're worried about him, aren't you, Louise?"

"What...?" Louise's brow goes taut.

A soft smile in turn brightens her friend's face.

"...Michael. I admit that I'm deeply concerned, so you must simply be beside yourself."

This earns a startled yelp from the diminutive pinkette, her cheeks flaring at the notion.

But here, where Louise would usually hide her feelings behind a wall, she instead allows herself to speak without restraint.

"I'm very concerned about him. He's all I can think of," she shares with an ominous voice, returning her attention to the two silver full moons. "And when I try to concentrate on other subjects, my mind just comes right back around to him and all that's happened."

Montmorency nods sympathetically.

"If it makes you feel any better, Louise... I've made up my mind on something. Something very important."

This prompts a perplexed frown from Louise as she peers over to her friend.

"Wh-What's that?"

"...He saved me from being foolish and forgiving Guiche," Montmorency purses her lips. "And for that, I am in Michael's debt. However, seeing you so beside yourself since returning from your mission has made the depth of your feelings for him abundantly clear to me."

Louise lowers her head, swallowing the growing lump of emotion in her throat.

"Montmorency... W-What are you saying?"

The blonde smiles calmly, turning to the moon as well. "...That I shall step back entirely, and allow you to pursue the one you love unhindered. Or at least until a time after his awakening, should he choose to pursue my affections of his own accord."

"B-But why...?" Louise, for all her intelligence, cannot make sense of the noblewoman's willingness to make way for her. "W-Why would you do this, when you love him, as well?"

Here Montmorency actually laughs faintly.

"Why...? Well, Louise," she answers with another beaming smile. "Because I doubt the fleeting feelings I hold Michael are even a fraction of the love you do. You are far braver than I, willing to run headlong into harm's way to protect him... even when the fight was almost lost."

Awestruck by this, Louise says nothing.

Word of her strange, unknown magic has reached even as far as Montmorency, it seems.

"Why, in some ways your bravery has me enamoured with you as much as Michael, Louise," the ringlet-haired blonde confesses, a slight redness warming her cheeks.

The pinkette shudders, struggling to find words.

"M-Montmorency...!"

An embarrassed yet resigned sigh flutters from Montmorency's lips, still smiling at her friend.

"...There, I said it. As foolish as it is," the blue-eyed young woman voices whilst turning fully to Louise. "And I won't ask that you reciprocate my girlish flutter, so rest easy."

Louise's gaze lowers to the grass, flushed completely red.

Montmorency giggles before smiling and twirling her left-most ringlet.

"Go to your familiar now, Louise. He needs you," she warmly entreats.

Louise hesitates only a moment. Montmorency then gives her a final gentle, supportive nod.

"...Thank you."

Soon after this, Louise rushes headlong toward the tower housing the infirmary.

...

Her footsteps echo down the corridor in a low staccato.

Though not one of the Academy's healers by any means, Louise has spent plenty of time here, with her family often making generous charitable contributions toward their guild.

Especially her mother Karin, who once served as a soldier in Tristain's Royal Army.

Thankfully, it appears as though the medical staff are sparse now. Almost all of the nearby beds are empty, too. Thankfully.

All except for two in which Michael and Tabitha rest.

At this, Louise stops mid-step, the bottom plummeting out of her stomach.

She does not dare move further, or even approach Michael out of fear of seeing him so still and quiet.

On a whim, the pinkette then decides that now is the best of times to be a coward, spinning on her heel to hurry out of the room.

That is... until a familiar voice speaks up from behind the ornate screen surrounding Michael's bed.

"...I'm right here, at your side, Michael. So, please... Please wake up," pleads Siesta.

A dreadful, jealous twinge grips Louise's heart. She looks back and peers around the room.

Although Tabitha lays motionless in the bed beside Michael's, Louise offers her no attention.

"You came for me when no one else would. When things were dire, and I felt myself on the edge of despair," the maid's murmurs slowly draw closer to Louise's position. "You protected me."

Jealousy twisting into seething, bright red rage, the mage clenches a fist while her teeth gritted.

A fleeting sniffle pierces the quiet, followed by a hushed, tearful sob.

Step by thunderous step, Louise nears the screen and eases slowly toward its opaque threshold.

"You placed your life on the line duelling Mott for me. And now you're fading," Siesta chokes.

Slowly, a scowl tarnishes Louise's features. Pausing, the petite girl pushes out a silent breath.

Crouching low, she peers around the screen to see Siesta wearing a solemn expression on her face, her arms curled around Michael's waist with her face pushed against his chest.

"I had wanted to repay that debt, to make you feel as happy as I do every time I'm with you."

Louise's eyes widen.

Fury engulfs her thoughts, the vision of Siesta hugging Michael evaporating with a quick swipe of her hand.

"All I can do now, though... is remain at your side like this. At least until you awaken," Siesta affirms through bitter sniffles. "So that I can hear your voice, just once more."

Pushed beyond the brink by Siesta's dedication, Louise can bear no more.

Standing and stepping through the screen's gap, the pinkette glares daggers into the unsuspecting maid.

Startled, she suddenly pulls away from Michael.

Upon seeing who it is, she pulls away with an apologetic, doe-like expression.

"...A-Ah... Miss Vallière... I didn't know you were coming by. But, please... allow me a little more time with him."

Louise's eyes flash with incredulous disgust.

"Step away from my familiar, you peasant, or I'll whip you myself!"

And in the face of her threat, Siesta stands strong and firm with narrowed, determined eyes.

"No, I won't. I refuse."

Both maid and highborn pinkette glare defiantly at each other in silence for many a moment.

"You dare defy an order from a noble, you lowly maid?" Louise snarls, holding her hand out with the intention of striking the disobedient, undeserving cow.

"Yes, because I love Michael," Siesta cuts back fiercely, causing Louise to flinch. "And he showed me that if you care about someone, you fight for them."

Blinded by rage, Louise steps swiftly over to the maid and glowers. "I-I'm his owner! Not you! Everything he possesses belongs to me - I OWN him!"

Siesta's eyes flash with immense disgust.

"If that is the way you view him, Miss, then you are undeserving of such a wonderful familiar," she retorts calmly, yet in a steely manner. "Goodnight."

Now Siesta steps past Louise.

The highborn girl goes impossibly red in the face as she pivots swiftly toward the escaping maid.

"S-Stay where you are, peasant...!"

Siesta reluctantly slows to a stop, not even bothering to meet Louise's wildly hateful gaze. Seconds drag by, and she shudders violently with emotion.

Scowling, Louise shoves Siesta against a nearby stone wall and draws a deep, hissing inhale.

"I should punish you for your defiance."

Siesta shoots an unflinching glare at the noble. "Then so be it... Order me whipped and kicked until I'm bloody, Miss Vallière. Do what is within your right. B-But it won't change my feelings... Nothing will."

Only now does Louise realize that, just like Siesta, she wants so desperately to cry.

Wordlessly, the pinkette lets go of the maid's shoulders.

Louise's legs feel a moment away from buckling beneath her.

Shaking her head, she glances back at Michael.

"...L-Leave this room immediately, Siesta," she snarls, her voice betraying the raging emotions coursing through her at this very moment. "Y-You have till the count of three," Louise wills with a strangled grunt.

Faced away from the maid, the small pinkette only hears an accepting hum, followed shortly by Siesta's footsteps in leaving.

With all of the energy sapped out of her, Louise trudges over to Michael's side and kneels into the stone floor, tears falling in tandem with her fallen head.

"I-If you don't wake up then I don't know what I'll do," she trembles and pleads with herself, clasping his limp hand. "I-I'm lost. I'm all alone now. So, please..."

And after this, Louise bites down on her lip and rests her brow atop his unresponsive hands. She weeps loudly, no longer caring who hears or how humiliating it is.

How did it come to this?

How in the world did she fall in love with her reckless, stubborn familiar...?

To be continued...


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