A Village in England, 1618
"I've seen you around the village." Jill said, the sound of slicing flesh stopping as she spoke.
The man she addressed stood upon a desolate knoll beneath a storm-blackened sky. She had come up here to the gnarled hanging tree to sate her appetite on justice's leavings, but this human had taken to menacing the corpse that hung there. That had intrigued her enough to stay her thirst for vengeance.
It was the same human who had killed her partner. The same man with a handsome, starvation-drawn face she'd followed and watched and tested. She'd stayed her claws when she found him taking his frustrations out on the reeve's dog with a knife. She'd seen the pus-yellow bruises on the man's back, his belly, his legs, places the villagers would not see.
Slowly, awkwardly, the bruised man turned to view the newcomer. It was a woman his age, wearing a dark gown, his squalid little village's thatched roofs indistinct behind her.
Jill smiled at him. "I think he's dead." She pointed out.
The man stared her down, his expression without emotion. His skin was pale, his eyes wide, his fist still clutched around the knife. "I don't remember you."
Jill shrugged. "Well, I remember seeing you at the fete. With your mother, smiling together?"
The man didn't move, caught between shielding his handiwork from view and stepping forward to close the distance.
Jill raised her eyebrows. "I saw how she beats you at night."
She saw the flicker of fury fly across his face, breaking through the brittle impassivity.
She grinned back. "You hide it well. Much like your bruises. Tell me, why does she hit you?" Jill added.
He shrugged off the questions. "What're you doing up here?" He asked brusquely.
"Satisfying my curiosity, amongst other things." She replied.
"Like what?" The man asked.
"You killed... my man, let's call him," Jill explained, "For a while, I thought about getting my revenge. Eating my fill. But," She raised a hand as he backed into the corpse that swung behind him, "I've watched you for a time longer, and I think we've more in common than initially thought."
"You're a monster." The man said, realising.
Jill's laughter bubbled up from her throat as she stepped forward. He moved away, allowing her to draw the flap of the dead man's jacket away to reveal the clotted cuts in the man's abdomen. By the jagged tears, she could see a lot of rage had gone into this desecration.
"And you're a human. No mean feat, what you achieved - and look how you are rewarded. Your mother beats you, and the villagers regard you poorly for that. What's more, your kind don't last overlong. You killed wolves and you died under your mother's thumb, that'll be your legacy," She sighed disappointedly, rounding on the man, "But with my help, you could outlast your tormentors, maybe even get your own back on them. It will cost you something dear, something irreplaceable, but-"
"What must I do?" The man asked, indecently fast, a forced, plastic smile surfacing.
Jill smiled darkly as she studied the man's eyes, knowing this would be the last time she'd see them so bright and hopeful. "What is your name, human?" She asked.
"Jack." He said quietly. He raised the blood blackened knife.
The motion gave Jill pause. He was clearly driven by instincts and rage, but that could be harnessed. He was willing to follow her into the dark, after all. That was all that mattered. She could tweak his behaviour along the way.
"Well then, Jack, you won't need that knife pointed at me. Don't discard it! We're going to visit your mother. One last time."
London, Day 6
She found him in the banquetting hall, unsurprised to find his mood had worsened.
Edwin Barnes was leaning back in his chair, holding the very thing that had made him, his eyes gazing at it from behind the borrowed flesh. The blade was black with dark life. The handle was worn, the tang rusty. The edge had dulled from all the cutting and the flensing. Around him, the servants worked, setting the long tables with silver cutlery.
"Well, I'll be off to speak to Remilia, to make sure Morgen's progress in dissuading her pursuit isn't wasted." Jill started.
"Good." He replied.
Jill smiled bravely. "We are to arrange a feast, the maid is back with us, and yet you seem... despondent."
Edwin Barnes managed a shrug. Taking it as a sign, Jill lowered her head and made to excuse herself.
"Struggling to recall." He blurted out.
"Pardon?" Jill asked, turning back.
His plastic smile was still present on his face, but he hid the eyes with the brim of his hat. "Lot of time. Lifetimes. Difficult to stay grounded."
Jill hesitated. "So what will you do?"
Edwin pointed that malicious expression her way. "My, no suggestions, Jill? I thought you always knew the path."
Jill held her temper in check, looking at the creature that had once been human, once loved her, who she had paraded around the cities and towns they'd menaced through time as her husband, her lover, her betrothed, now her brother. Now - like all the other times he'd thought to discard her - she watched her words. "I wouldn't dare to presume."
He averted his eyes. "Tonight, we will feast. I will feast."
Jill nodded, the prophecy from the vampire's lips in Trafalgar Square still echoing in her head. "I shall arrange it that our men will pick up a slew of worthy objects. You'll have your pick."
Edwin's rictus grin began to ease. "Go on. You want to ask."
Jill swallowed. "What of Remilia Scarlet?" She asked.
Edwin's mouth became transfixed as he seemed to stare Jill down. "I want to."
Jill smiled sadly. "I know you do."
"I've made preparations." Edwin pointed out.
"I know." She could see the faraway look in his eyes, saw how his fingers drummed the chair's arm.
"You told me you would protect me." He mused.
"I did. I would." She promised.
"She put hands on you," He added, the dim light in his sockets darting her way, "And that, I can't abide."
Jill hesitated, the corners of her mouth drawing downwards. It had been a long time since she'd heard anything like that from his frozen lips. "I didn't... know that had-"
"What do you think you're doing, eavesdropping?!" He shouted past her awkward admission, the staff in their black-and-grey uniform behind him flinching at his sudden fury.
Jill turned around, seeing the servant girl/ She was still dressed in the blue and white french maid's outfit the Scarlet mob had made her wear. It made her stand out against the sea-weed green carpet and wine-red walls of the hall. At the sound of Edwin's voice she wavered mid-step, a silver knife slipping from the bundle of cutlery in her slackening grip.
"Well?!" Edwin snapped as the girl stooped to retrieve it. Jill watched her straighten, knowing the steps, how the silver-haired girl would scrabble for the right answer, an answer that didn't exist, and Edwin would needle her with barbed comments, maybe even get rough with her.
This time, the servant maid stood, her thousand-yard stare focusing on Edwin.
Even the servants had stopped moving, watching and waiting to see what their lord might do.
"Stop looking at me!" Edwin bawled.
The servant girl did not stop, her eyes watching as Edwin's hand flew to his pocket. There was a click.
In an eye-blink, Edwin was on her, a closed, gloved fist sending her to the floor before he lashed kick after kick down at her. The servant girl's chest recoiled from a well aimed blow, her arms curling around to protect herself.
"You'll kill her." Jill warned.
Edwin landed another blow, the toe of his shoe spearing into the soft belly of the servant girl.
"Brother, stop! We need her!" Jill cried out, going forward.
"She smiled at me! Did you see it?!" Edwin screamed back at her.
Jill's gaze flitted from him to the girl. She was going into convulsions.
No, she wasn't. Her fist - still clutching the silver dinner knife - was shaking hard.
"I didn't," Jill admitted, her mouth agape, her dark eyes watching Edwin, "But she must live, if we are to remain here. Everywhere else, time marches on-" She trailed off, realising Edwin was too busy whispering menacing words into the servant girl's ear.
"-You disloyal, clumsy whelp-bitch, you dare to interrupt my sister and then challenge me? How dare you? Speak up!"
Jill saw the servant girl's chin lift, her mouth clamped shut, her silver eyes at first still seeing some far off place before they locked onto Jill. The maid had appealed to her before in the past, but never vocally, her grey eyes pleading with her to make it stop. There was no cry for help in them this time.
Jill saw red in them this time.
"Dear brother, send her to the kitchens. Get her from my sight." Jill rushed out.
"You heard her," Edwin snarled, cuffing the back of the girl's head as he arose, "Go and do something useful. Prepare the cells, pay the drivers, go to Prosechtikos, I don't care.
And burn those clothes and put on a proper uniform! You're a maid, not some Whitechapel trollop!" He shouted after the servant girl as she shakily but silently got to her feet and walked away.
"Jack?" Jill asked aloud.
"Edwin, call me Edwin, don't confuse me, not more than..." Edwin swallowed, a hand going to the side of his head, fingers kneading the mask back into place.
"Edwin, go to her." Jill said.
"What? What on earth for?" Edwin snapped.
"Her eyes were bleeding. Go check on her." Jill hissed.
"You think I'd be stupid enough to actually-" Edwin began.
"I don't think anything, go and check!" Jill barked, regretting her tone instantly. She saw his hand once more drop to his left jacket pocket, and realised that she may have finally lost control of him.
She issued a warning growl, feeling her canines lengthen.
That had been enough. Edwin had frozen, giving her a scowl and a snarl before going after the servant girl, leaving her to wonder what came next.
The examination was quick, cursory, unfeeling.
"No bleeding. Good. Should hate to see harm come to you." Edwin sighed airily, jerking the girl's chin to the side, seeing the already darkening bruise on her cheek.
The servant girl stared back, whatever human emotions that ran beneath the surface under tight control.
"Seems I taught you well." Edwin murmured, his rictus grin seeming to ease.
"Thank you for saying so, master." The servant girl said evenly.
"We shall have to talk about your earlier disloyalties." He told her, hoping to see some twitch of apprehension or a twinge of pain.
She gave him nothing, her grey eyes staring back at the distant stars set in his sockets.
"...But it can wait, until after the feast is over. Who knows? If you perform adequately, we might overlook your infidelities."
The servant girl dared to close her eyes, bowing her head. "Yes, master."
Edwin turned from her and stalked out.
The servant girl returned to her chopping of the carrots, the knife sawing forcefully into the cutting board, the table now crowded by utensils and crockery.
Soon, Remilia would leave London. One day, mister Osbourne - her dear mister Osbourne - would die. On that day...
She retrieved the knife, her eyes following the flat length of it, her brow furrowing when she looked past its perfect edge to her reflection in the kettle, red-eyed and smiling.
"You hear me?" Edwin called over her shoulder, "Burn those clothes. I won't tell you a third time."
The gatekeeper's palm swept through the morning air before coming to a halt in front of her. Her cold, blue-eyed gaze stared down the plain of her fingers towards the interloper.
"Leave." She commanded.
The tall, rangy form of Jill Barnes approached, her long fingers clasped in front of her. "But I wish to see mistress Scarlet." She said, her figure painting a long shadow across the sun-lit cobblestones.
"To pour your poison," Hong Meiling pointed out, "and that I will not allow."
Jill Barnes began to smile, careful to stop the human lips she wore from curling too far. "You know what I am."
Meiling nodded. "Yes."
Jill could feel her skin draw tightly over her teeth, "You know the difference between us, as well."
Meiling nodded, as stonily as before.
"And so you still think to confront me? To kill me, even?" Jill asked.
Meiling's grim expression did not shift. "I don't need to kill you." She promised.
Jill's smile grew inhumanly large, her hands coming apart to spread to either side, her nails jutting from her fingers. "Oh, darling, I don't think you're even capable." A subhuman rumble rose from her throat as Meiling widened her stance.
The tension broke as the iron gates screeched open behind the gatekeeper. The movement made Meiling flinch, her shoulders sagging as she was undermined. Jill's smile began to shrink, her long fingers reuniting in front of her as she made to walk past the gatekeeper.
She paused at Meiling's shoulder.
"Seems your mistress wishes to see me, as well," Jill said sweetly, "Should talks fall through... I'll look for you on the battlefield."
Meiling glared sidelong at Jill as she was passed by. As the visitor's footsteps grew distant, she looked down the road towards the poor quarter of Whitechapel District, with the greater, grander part of London lurking beyond that.
"Please come home." She murmured the words half to herself as she felt the waves of sorrow rippling from the mansion and lapping at her back.
"Is Remi gonna be okay?" Flandre asked, her voice plaintive.
"She's been wounded. Badly." Patchouli sighed, her hands resting on the desk for support.
"Who? Who did it?" Flandre demanded, already imagining the perpetrator in the palm of her hand.
"She hasn't been attacked, Flandre," Patchouli murmured, her eyes searching the library rows for someone before returning to the tomes on her desk, "She's been betrayed, by the human."
Flandre's brow furrowed. "What? No, Sakuya wouldn't do that. She's nice to us!"
Patchouli slow-blinked, her eyes shadowed with fatigue, hearing Flandre's appeal for answers. "I think... I think Sakuya was made to hurt Remi."
Flandre shook her head, unable to reconcile with that. "But- why? Why'd she do that?"
"Leverage. She cares for someone here in London - and for Remi."
"Then why'd she hurt her? How did she hurt Remi? Remi's tough. She wouldn't let someone she doesn't know hurt her. She's too strong."
Patchouli's gaze slid over to Flandre, smiling sadly, knowing the girl had too many questions, and she herself had too little time. "In battle, she's hard to crack, outside of that... you'll recall she and the gatekeeper fought? Meiling tried to hurt her, if you remember."
Flandre nodded. "I do!"
"Remi used her ability to guarantee their meeting, and mine, as well. She's accustomed to cutting her way into people's lives. She's quite unused to people doing the same to her. I imagine that contributed to the pain- to have someone display an interest, only to turn against you when you've let your guard down.
Sakuya chose Remi, just as you did."
Flandre's face fell as she contemplated her own recent ruminations about her big sister. Patchouli cleared her throat as she picked up a book at random.
"Flan, would you stay here, keep yourself and Koakuma out of sight? I need to sit with Remi. Can't let her face down a werewolf alone."
"The bad wolf..." Flandre murmured almost to herself.
"Certainly an untrustworthy one." Patchouli replied, steeling herself as she walked down the carpet of Voile to rendevous with Remilia.
Patchouli's frown deepened when she laid her eyes on the meeting.
Jill laid back in her seat in the stark, red-and-white receiving room, the only ornamentation being a grandfather clock that stood alone against a doorless wall. The woman from the Chateau's eye flicked to regard Patchouli's approach, her eyelid lowering as she discounted her. Remilia - hunched forward with a sullen face and wings that hung low behind her - sat in a ruffled black and burgundy shift. The shimmering, pink-silk dress and matching mob cap that she'd fallen for a few nights ago was absent.
Remilia's eyes met Patchouli's, a wan smile on her small face.
"Patchouli. Come and sit. We're past the pleasantries, and we're well into our business." Remilia said, a pleasantness painted over her words.
"Gladly." Patchouli remarked, seating herself, splaying her tome open.
"A pleasure to know you... Patchouli, was it? Like the plant?" Jill asked, her smile too eager for Patchouli's tastes.
"I am. You're Jill Barnes. What agreements have you both made?"
Jill threw Remilia a furtive look before considering the newcomer. "I'm... forgive me, I'm a little disinclined to go over old ground. You live here with miss Remilia?"
Remilia opened her mouth, but Patchouli spoke quickly. "I'm miss Remilia's accountant. Tell me what you've proposed."
Jill told her what had been agreed upon. It made Patchouli look to Remilia, perturbed. "Remi, is this so?"
Remilia stared tiredly back at her, giving her a half-hearted shrug. "It's not a large sum."
Patchouli began to respond until she saw the quenched fire in Remilia's eyes. She redirected her gaze to Jill. "We aren't paying for the property damage, miss Barnes."
"Oh, are we re-opening negotiations?" Jill asked with a pout.
"Correct. It is out of the question for us to pay for the damages you caused in attacking us or for compensation for 'pain and suffering'. What's your stance in regards to Remilia's demands made in the square?"
Patchouli saw Jill shift in her chair, whilst Remilia seemed to wake. It seemed Jill had been able to dictate terms without resistance whilst Remilia sat in her own melancholy. Patchouli would have no time to read during the meeting, it seemed.
Jill shook her head. "I... miss Remilia, I thought we'd agreed on matters. Does Patchouli here speak for you? I thought this was your decision." Jill said with knitted brow, her words making Remilia begin to squirm in her seat, her frowning visage turning on Patchouli. The wolf played on Remilia's already bruised ego.
Patchouli had to say something before she was dismissed.
"Miss Remilia has the final say, as always," Patchouli spoke directly at Jill, "I handle the boring, day-to-day details. Until then, please indulge me and answer my questions."
To Patchouli's relief, Remilia lightly nodded as Jill relented. "Well, I suppose I could see what my brother thinks of footing the bill. They're his demands, you understand-"
"What of the terms of the Scarlet Devil?" Patchouli insisted.
"Oh, mister Osbourne and Olivia de Vere?" Jill asked, simpering, "Miss Remilia, miss Patchouli, it is heartwarming to see you both grow fond of the local fauna, but they are ours. They're not up for safeguarding."
"If we were to take them home with us?" Remilia piped up, her tired eyes gaze meeting that of the werewolf.
Jill made a show of seeming to think on it. "Mmm... it is apparent that you've grown to care for them. Dangerous habit to indulge in, miss Remilia - showing empathy for our natural enemy. But I will indulge you, as a personal favour." Jill said at length.
"Rather, you could view it as a way for you to make amends for making an attempt on miss Remilia's life." Patchouli retorted coolly.
Jill pointed her restrained smile at the magician, finally registering her as a threat. "Very well." She conceded.
"You mentioned two of the three my mistress has an interest in. What of the maid?" Patchouli asked.
Jill made a show of looking bemused. "Why, what of the maid?"
Patchouli opened her mouth to retort, but it was Remilia's voice she heard. "I no longer have an interest in the servant girl. Do what you like with her."
"What?" The magician coughed, rounding on Remilia before Jill's voice drew her attention back.
"Why, it's incredibly simple, miss Patchouli. I'll admit, I was surprised myself," Jill put in, "Though I suppose it was only a matter of time before you discovered what she truly is."
That rekindled Remilia's attention. "We always knew she was a spy. We're not stupid."
There was a pause. Remilia's red-eyed gaze reconnected with Jill's dark visage, registering her doe-eyes and open mouth.
"I don't- your pardon," Jill started, "Nevermind, it's just that- I saw how you enjoyed her company, and didn't want to... sour anything."
Patchouli felt her lip curl as she caught the furtive, self-satisfied glance the werewolf threw her way. Jill hadn't misspoke. That had been calculated.
"If you know something I don't, you'd best tell me." Remilia demanded.
"I can't imagine she would like me to... talk about her condition." Jill spoke haltingly, making a show of rubbing at her own wrists.
"What condition? What's wrong with her?" Remilia asked.
"Perhaps," Jill sighed, "It would be easier to ask what is right with her."
Remilia leaned forward, a curiosity beginning to replace her lethargy, whilst Patchouli remained vigilant.
Jill put on her best conciliatory smile. "The leading experts today have a collection of terms for her condition; moral imbecility, moral insanity, psychopathic inferiority," She stopped briefly, as though to drink in the sight of Remilia's annoyed look before continuing, "To sum it up as best I can; she's a user, miss Remilia, stunted, devoid of empathy and a danger to everyone around them."
Patchouli glanced sidelong at Remilia, concerned to see that the mistress seemed content to sulk and let Jill's claims about Sakuya go unchallenged.
"Jack, my... companion, warned you earlier of the girl's propensity to slack in her work. That is the mildest symptom of her condition. She is self-interested, and is given over to enjoying violence, and imagines inflicting all kinds of pain, from physical to emotional.
Is it... fair to assume you've come afoul of that particular tendency of hers?" Jill asked.
Remilia nodded in confirmation.
"I am so sorry that happened, truly," Jill said with a smile that Patchouli wanted to slap, "Though perhaps - if you'd allow me to be bold - it is best that this happened, that you were lightly wounded before she could inflict a deeper betrayal later-"
"Where did you say this need to commit emotional vandalism came from?" Patchouli said forcefully, unable to let this go any further. She was not overly fond of Sakuya, but she prided herself as a woman of science, following fact before theory, trusting in evidence over hearsay. She had seen Sakuya's conduct through her crystal ball, and the contrast with Jill's words was positively jarring.
"Oh- I didn't, miss Patchouli." Jill said coyly.
Patchouli maintained the cold face. "Care to comment, then?"
Jill took longer than normal to answer. "Alright," She stalled, "Though I doubt it will avail we three here... Her home life was a wretched thing. Her parents were as vicious as any superstitious human, beating her roundly for slights real and imagined. Unfortunate, but it hardly excuses her behaviour."
"Funny," Patchouli said, throwing a glance to the languid Remilia, "I recall she spoke fondly of her parents."
"Oh," Jill faltered before she recovered with a shrug, "It's hardly a topic to discuss with one's employers. I suspect the maid told you she got on well enough with them so as to avoid any discomfort."
"Ever more peculiar then, as I imagine that tragic tale about her parents beating her, that's a story that would garner much more sympathy from my mistress who is currently far removed from her family. Why do you suppose she chose not to share her past, if she's devoid of empathy and moral value, if she wouldn't factor Remilia's feelings?" Patchouli asked, trying to keep her distaste from becoming visible.
"I can only speculate." Jill chuckled.
"Please do." Patchouli cut in coldly.
Jill threw her a half-lidded look. "For all her sadistic interests in deceit, she's simply not very good at it. She doesn't possess the high intellect necessary to pull it off."
There was no point on pressing further. Patchouli shrugged as she leant back. "Certainly possible, and a very unwise move to damage your reputation with the person you plan to ingratiate yourself to. 'Can't lie your way home', after all." Patchouli replied at length, her gaze boring into Jill's eyes.
She saw Jill's throat soundlessly move and a small smile spread along her maw. "Quite so." She agreed.
Patchouli stared her down a moment longer. "We certainly can't rule out that she was made to act this way. We already established she was spying for your lot-"
"You think I'd be stupid enough to strike so personally at miss Remilia? When I seek peace between our houses?" Jill replied archly.
Patchouli stared into the werewolf's gloomy, black eyes. "No. You weren't the one to issue the order." She surmised.
It was there, if only for a split second. The electric pause, the widening eyes, the halted breathing. "Now that would be an interesting story," Jill smothered the crack in her composure with a fiery grin, "You fancy yourself a conspiracy theorist as well as an accountant? You've more than one string to your bow, it seems."
Patchouli smiled slightly in return. "You find ways to keep busy when you're housebound," She answered evenly, restraining the urge to preen and show off, "But! Fun though it is to craft theories with you - you mentioned psychopathy? Julius Koch?"
Jill seemed cautious now. "Yes." She said, seeming to drag the word from her own lips.
Patchouli clicked her fingers. "If we are to parrot his words, perhaps we should investigate the maid's story more thoroughly."
"How do you mean?" Jill asked, feigning annoyance to disguise her dismay.
"Koch tells us to that a comprehensive account of the subject is needed before we can begin to identify psychopathy, though I reckon it's a good practice for any investigation; put simply, I can't take your story on your word alone - no offense meant," Patchouli said blithely, "But I'd like to verify what's been said. The human's upbringing, background, environs, treatment, and should her account vary from yours... well, the truth will out, one way or another."
There was an uncomfortable silence that followed that pointed implication. Jill's smile - the sickly sweet expression she wore when making conversation, jokes, threats and promises of carnage - was gone now.
"Well? Let's arrange a meeting!" Patchouli pushed.
"You presume much, Patchouli." Remilia warned.
Her friend's words took Patchouli off balance. Jill took the oppurtunity to press them. "Yes, I was under the impression you would be leaving tonight or tomorrow. Hardly time to allow this... game, that your companion proposes." Jill said, as calmly and as caring as a marksman placing their shots.
"Remi-" Patchouli controlled herself, "Miss Remilia, you- I was under the impression I had a few more nights, that I had more time to complete my duties. Please, indulge me in speaking with the human-"
"It's not necessary to go to such troubles over a human." Remilia cut her off, her gaze refusing to meet the magician's.
Remilia had a point. It wasn't necessary. It was only a human. Her miniscule lifetime was a speck in the grand scheme of things. The only unique thing about her was her unstable grasp on time and space, an ability Patchouli could replicate with the right incantations and concoctions. Patchouli tried to step back and focus on that fact, to reconcile with Remilia's decision, to perhaps try again later.
As Jill began to waffle, Patchouli tried not to remember the throb of her heart as Remilia had been paralyzed beneath London's stinking waterways, or how she had fled through the labyrinthine alleyways with lions at her heels, or Meiling lying in her fever beneath the Russian and his ghost.
She tried not to remember who it had been who had saved them, and who she'd saved in turn.
Patchouli could hear the grinding of her own teeth over Jill's insult-laced flattery.
"You made her do this." Patchouli heard herself grate out, knowing she should shut up, force her choler down and speak to Remilia alone when she was calm.
She turned to see that Remilia was surprised to hear her interrupt, that Jill was pleased to see Patchouli speak so clumsily, moving to retort. "I thought we established I was not-"
"One of you did! One of you made her speak to Remilia that way last night!" Patchouli snapped.
Jill smiled apologetically, though Patchouli could see the antagonism lurking behind the friendly facade. "Miss Patchouli, I can honestly say if such a scheme was suggested and enacted, I had no knowledge of it."
Patchouli struggled for a moment, her teeth nipping the inside of her lip. "Debateable. Will you deny knowledge of Sakuya's moulding at the hands of your Edwin, that she's beaten by him or your other companions? Why do we discount the possibility that Sakuya was acting under orders? Why do we ignore the fact they can reach out and touch Sakuya's only living attachment to this place, that they have leverage?!" Patchouli turned to Remilia, appealing to her to act, to rule over this, to do something.
"Sakuya this, Sakuya that, are we still talking about the maid?" Jill asked, feigning confusion as Patchouli stabbed a finger at her.
"I posit that your claims about Sakuya's state of mind are falsely based on conditions your treatment of her created! You have beaten her, indoctrinated her, collared her, even-"
"Really," Jill cut in, "this is absurd-"
"-Whatever you want to call it," Patchouli was standing now, growing louder, "So that she might do your bidding for fear of reprisal! And of course, you won't allow her to be killed! No, her magic is good for keeping all of London docile, fearful and believing of your dear Ripper and your henchmen, repeating... whatever cycle of events means the most to him, to them!"
"And?" Jill asked.
There was a pause.
"What?" Patchouli blurted out as Remilia stopped leaning on her hand.
Jill shrugged. "Your accusation is that Edwin has been beating 'Sakuya'? That we're holding all of London ransom? That we're being... monstrous, for lack of a better word?"
Patchouli blinked, her hands curling into fists.
Jill gave her a patronising look. "Since the dawn of time, monsters have tormented and eaten man. It is what we are - I am no different from miss Remilia in that regard."
Patchouli glanced sidelong at Remilia before she shook her head, "You don't know a thing about her-"
"I'm not done talking, witch," Jill replied, "I take umbrage that you think to... what, criminalise me and mine, for actions taken to survive? Who do you suppose gave us the idea to live like this?"
Patchouli held her tongue. Jill did not hesitate. "I have seen people burn their women at the stake for being suspected of casting magic. I have heard news of men killing one another - do they speak plainly, crying they fought for money, for greed, fear, contempt? No, it is always for God, for kings, for countries, unity, justice, peace - peace," Jill barked out the word, "Say what you like about our kind, miss Remilia, but you and I, we wouldn't be so crass or so craven as to dress up our acts of predation as some noble endeavour! Besides, what endeavour is more noble than survival?!"
"We are measured in our survival. You go too far." Patchouli said quietly, realising too late that Jill had diverted them.
Jill tittered at that. "Miss Patchouli, would it surprise you to know this economy of terror we have here... that was not just fuelled, but created by the humans? The witch-hunts, the wars, the eastern vampire purges, the bedside tales of murder and mayhem, the primordial terror of the unknown... all of that is giving way to science, discovery and 'enlightenment'. Progress and industry are underway, with society dressed and fashioned in the aloof manners of today's civilisation - but the fear is still there, along with the oppression and the hopelessness and the helplessness. The poor are shuffled out of sight to sleep on the floors of workhouses when they're not pressed into service as labourers. The abnormal and the atypical are either incarcerated or branded as mad and sent to the mental deficiency colonies. Children are put to work in collapsing mines or are caught up in the machines of the factories. Wealthy women are married off and become things for the husband, and should they be unlucky and be beaten, whatever pain they suffered is to be kept inside those four walls, with any outcry - any case of 'hysteria' - met with a one-way journey to the asylum - and Sakuya? As a servant, without a fraction of the rights... Well, whatever's happening at home, trust me when I say it's perfectly legal, according to the laws the humans created, not us!
Cruelty - both human and monstrous - is alive and well, it's just better hidden and able to roam between the letters of law and behind the veneer of restrained etiquette. Would you condemn us for exploiting that for our own gain, for finessing it? Forgive me if I think that sounds like sour grapes."
Patchouli bridled, a spiteful suggestion about to leave her tongue.
"What's to become of the servant girl?" Remilia asked.
Jill looked thoughtful before she answered. "She will continue to live in our house and serve us. Naturally, we'll have to punish her for slighting you and getting your hopes up."
Remilia stared dully at Jill. "Good." She murmured.
"Have you gone mad?!" Patchouli exclaimed, her harsh words making Remilia flinch away from her. "Have you not been listening to me?! You're going to trust this viper just because her words fit what you're thinking about Sakuya?!" Patchouli shouted, catching the leering, self-satisfied smirk that flashed on and off Jill's face.
"I'm appalled to hear your companion speak so strongly and out of turn, miss Remilia," Jill said reproachfully, feigning astonishment, "For I assumed we were here to talk of peacefully going our seperate ways, not recriminations."
"Miss Barnes," Remilia started, having to tear her gaze off of Patchouli's stern expression, "For that reason, I would like a word with my colleague. If we might reconvene later? I'll send a message."
Jill made a point of looking put out. "Very well," She sighed, sliding from her chair as she stood, "Though I must remind you, tomorrow is your last day in our fair city, in accordance with our agreement. I thank you for having me, miss Remilia, and I hope dearly that we will conclude-"
"Oh, I don't have you yet," Remilia casually slung the warning, "But if the peace is broken, rest assured, I will."
Jill paused in her stride for the door, her pianist's fingers resting on the back of her chair, her eyes seeking clarity.
Remilia tilted her head as she recited the same prophecy she had made in the square. "'On the third night, you will hear nothing, as all the world holds its breath to see what you-"
In a blur, Jill lashed the chair forward. All Patchouli did was jut her chin upwards and a spike of wood corkscrewed from the table to spear through the splat of the chair, transfixing it in the air before it could strike the table.
Remilia's eyes had remained on Jill all the while, smiling tiredly as the chair's legs swung beneath the perforated body. "Just reminding you what happens, should you doublecross us." The vampire sighed, a ghost of a smile playing on her features. "The fairy maids will show you out, miss Barnes."
The vampire and the magician did not move until Jill was on the other side of the receiving room's door, the pair saying nothing until they heard the click of the latch hook into the place.
"Care to explain yourself?" Remilia asked.
The spear of wood coiled back into the table, the perforated chair bouncing off of the carpet. "That depends. Will you listen?" Patchouli countered icily.
Remilia threw Patchouli an annoyed look. "I didn't know the human maid was a contentious issue. If I recall, you were the one most set against keeping her."
Patchouli turned her stormy expression on Remilia. "Have you perhaps considered why my stance might have changed with her?"
"No? Enlighten me." Remilia said, knowing she was letting herself in for a lecture. She expected Patchouli's sermon to begin, for her to hypothesize and theorize and bombard Remilia with words, some of which she wouldn't understand. Patchouli surprised her with just a few.
"I want to know why." Patchouli said.
Remilia warily regarded Patchouli as the magician coldly continued, "I want to know why Jill felt it necessary to lie about Sakuya's parents. I want to know why Sakuya helped you, guided you out of danger, stood up for you and Meiling - despite it being in her best interest to see you undone - only for her to hurt you last night. And most of all, I want to know why you're deserting her now, after all she did for you."
Remilia felt flustered as Patchouli confronted her. "You heard what she said to me, didn't you? What she thinks of me-"
"Remilia, it can't be so simple! It's utterly out of character for her-"
"We've known her inside of a week!" Remilia countered, not wanting to think of Sakuya, the pain still raw, "How are we to know-"
"And in that week, she saved your life twice, at least!" Patchouli pointed out.
Remilia scoffed. "'Saved me'? The Scarlet Devil doesn't need saving! Especially from a weak human! Your words! She's weak!"
Patchouli sighed in exasperation. "She is weak! She is a coward! Who can blame her, with masters like that?! Yet for all that weakness, she's displayed strength worthy of recognition! The Scarlet Devil wouldn't let a good deed go unrewarded, would she?"
Remilia resisted the urge to show her teeth, wishing the witch would stop. "That time is long past! Were you not listening to miss Barnes? Sakuya is a psychopath! A danger-"
"Oh my God, Remi, should I follow your example?! Should I cease in testing my theories and stop casting new spells, do what you did and discard a friend on the word of one scheming wolf-hag?!" Patchouli's voice rose another octave.
"You live under my roof, you eat my food, and now you think it fit to question how I run my house?! To question how I do things?!" Remilia shot back, her hackles rising.
"Then tell me why I'm-" Patchouli's answering retort was drowned in a cough-choked shout.
Remilia recoiled, her expression turning to a shocked, open frown. "Patchy, I'm-"
"Ginger tea," Patchouli hacked, waving off Remilia's concern, "Kitchen dresser..."
Remilia nodded, hurrying away. By the time she had returned with a mug and tea-stained saucer in hand, Patchouli was reclining in her chair, making a conscious effort to relax. She took the proffered mug, nodding in thanks. She took a sip - it was no cure-all, but she could feel the vapours calm her airways.
"Thank you, miss Remilia." Patchouli murmured, taking in an experimental breath.
Remilia nodded, "You're welcome, Patchy." She said shyly, her red-eyes scrutinising Patchy intensely; she'd chosen not to call her Remi. "I didn't know we had any of this ginger tea." She added quickly.
"Sakuya brought a stock in, on my account." Patchouli breathed.
Remilia hid the twinge, realising it was an unworthy thought even as it flitted through her head; that even now, during an asthma attack, she suspected Patchouli of promoting the maid and proclaiming her virtues.
Patchouli made no outward sign that she guessed at Remilia's thoughts, gesturing weakly to the gored chair Jill had been sitting in. "Sorry about your chair."
Remilia smiled meekly. "I have many like that one. I'm... sorry, for upsetting you."
Patchouli didn't answer right away. She didn't answer for a long time, in fact. The silence prompted Remilia to go on. "W-what were you saying, before-"
The mildest frown appeared on Patchouli's face, the setting stopping Remilia's words. "In the heat of the moment," Patchouli stressed, "I was going to ask what I was still doing here."
Remilia swallowed, uncertain what to say, feeling a dreadful chill run down her spine.
Patchouli seemed to catch her apprehension, "I know I earn my keep by way of transporting the mansion. Cooking up infusions. Casting spells. Studying the magic of our enemies. Fortifying the mansion. I was hoping that when you invited me to become your advisor, it didn't come with conditions. That I could speak freely around you, counsel you, warn you."
Remilia looked on, frustrated, but kept her silence.
Patchouli's expression was dour as she regarded Remilia. "I know you don't want to leave Sakuya here."
Remilia shook her head, beleaguered. "I don't want to talk about this, Patchy."
Patchouli's shoulders sagged. "We don't have a lot of time to not talk about it, Remi. Sakuya doesn't have a lot of time."
Remilia nodded numbly. "I hear you. I do. I just... don't know if such a discussion is worth having. We have a ceasefire, and I've talked to Jill about leaving the human here. Mister Osbourne's taught me that a noblewoman has obligations, that she must keep her word when she gives it. If I give up this battle to avoid a war, that's... right, isn't it?"
Patchouli stared at her. "Do you genuinely believe that, or is that more palatable than the possibility that you're letting your fear govern your actions?"
Remilia's eyes were heavy as she stared at Patchouli. "I'm heading to bed," Remilia said quietly, slipping from her chair and wandering towards the receiving room's doors, "I'll let Koakuma know you got excited."
Patchouli cleared her throat. "Please, do that."
"Hey, Patchy?
Are you going to leave?" Remilia asked.
She knew Patchouli disliked such questions being asked, but Remilia felt she needed to.
Flandre was her sister, Meiling was sworn to her, Koakuma was a lesser devil and the maids were hers, but Patchouli was not so clearly defined. She acted upon request, not beholden to orders. There were times when Patchouli demanded her privacy within the library and other times she'd surprise Remilia with a new spell, entertain her with a fable or share her food - that Remilia had paid for - with her.
She was at the same time her closest and most distant companion.
Patchouli met Remilia's anxious gaze with a lethargy-laden look. "What do you think?"
Remilia wordlessly smiled in response before she left, leaving Patchouli's attention to list towards the grandfather clock, her eyes widening when she saw where the hands lay.
"Koakuma!"
"It's nine o'clock."
Hong Meiling didn't quite know what to say to that.
The silver haired gentleman glowered at her, as though she was responsible for whatever slight he so obviously felt.
Meiling smiled uncertainly as she thought best how to respond. "It is." She agreed.
Mister Osbourne stared her down. "My lessons begin at eight o'clock, and not a minute later."
Meiling's eyebrows rose. "Oh- Oh! You're the tutor! How do you do?" She beamed, bowing low.
Mister Osbourne's frown lightened, disarmed by the warmth and respect Meiling gave him. "I'm rather disappointed that I have to call upon the countess personally; we had an arrangement, she and I. Tell me, is she inside?" He asked, levelling his cane towards the mansion.
When he saw Meiling's expression freeze, his own temper quelled as he spoke again. "Here, what happened?"