Tabitha decides to come clean about the tome she found in the library to Louise. Shocked by the realization that the blue-haired girl and her beloved familiar will have to be intimate to sever the ties that bind, Louise makes an important choice.
Then, later that evening, Fouquet is visited in Tristania Palace's dungeons by a familiar shadowy figure.
Tristania - Part III - Louise's Decision
As she knocks on the door to the chamber that Louise and Michael share, Tabitha's heart begins racing. She hears one of them inside, and the sounds of movement suggest that someone is perhaps changing their clothes. As Tabitha waits for the right moment to knock, she closes her eyes and takes a few calming breaths.
She can do this. She has to. She is the one who caused all of this.
Accidentally, or not.
As the bluenette reaches over to knock, however, the door creaks open.
Tabitha opens her eyes with a light exhale as Louise stands before her with a raised brow. The young ladies stand facing each other for a moment, the air thick with tension.
"Oh, Tabitha, it's you," the pinkette remarks, folding her arms.
"I need to speak with you, Louise. Can we walk together... maybe?" the blue-haired mage requests, her voice soft.
Louise looks at Tabitha curiously before nodding.
"I suppose so, yes," she responds, closing the door behind her.
The two young women make their way through the halls of Tristania Palace in silence, their footsteps echoing in the empty space. Tabitha takes in the sights and sounds of the world around her, trying to focus her attention on anything except for the feeling in her stomach and the words that are struggling to leave her mouth.
As the two pass a large stained-glass window, Tabitha clears her throat softly.
"...Where is Michael? Is he not in your room?" Tabitha asks, trying to find the courage to broach the subject that had brought her there in the first place.
Louise shrugs, a slight frown tugging at the corners of her lips.
"He left the throne room before me, so I don't know where the idiot is," she explains with a hint of displeasure lacing her tone. "He could be anywhere, knowing him."
"Oh, I see."
The silence settles between the two as the blue-haired girl ponders her next question. She bites her lip as they near the end of the hallway, the orange evening sunlight streaming through the tall, thin windows and painting the marble floors in brilliant colors.
Tabitha tries to steady her voice once again before finally saying: "I may have found a solution... to mine and Michael's... problem."
Louise raises a pink eyebrow.
"...Go on."
"I found a book in the royal library," Tabitha starts, choosing her words carefully. "An old one... It contains methods, olden methods: The kinds used to sever magical bonds."
Louise turns her attention to Tabitha and raises an eyebrow.
"You found something, I assume?"
The bluenette's heartbeat quickens at the shortness tinging her classmate's question. She glances sideways, trying not to let her voice shake as she answers, "I... I may have. However, it requires Michael and I to follow certain steps."
Louise frowns, "What do you mean, 'follow steps'? Is it difficult or something?"
Tabitha looks over at Louise, her lips drawn into a thin line. She holds her gaze, her heart pounding even harder in her chest, as she replies, "Well... not exactly, it's very easy, actually..."
"What's the issue, then?" the pink-haired girl asks, looking confused and irritated by the apparent delay in receiving a satisfactory response.
Tabitha averts her gaze again.
"Well... The ritual involves the use of sex magic..."
The words die on her tongue and she turns her gaze back to the ground as she feels Louise's bore into the side of her face. She does not dare look back up, however, fearing that if she does so then the girl may erupt into a screaming tirade.
A tense silence stretches out between the two young women as Tabitha struggles to keep herself calm, her stomach knotting as she anticipates what reaction might follow.
"...This book you found... I want to see it," Louise says, breaking the silence, her voice sounding strained and distant.
"It's in my room," Tabitha informs the pinkette, her gaze now fixed squarely on the buckles of her shoes. "I... I can go get it if you'd like, and-"
"No."
Louise's voice stops the girl mid-sentence. She glances up, only to find that her companion is standing at her side, staring directly into her eyes with fearsome determination. Tabitha stares back at her in surprise, unable to form a reply as the young noblewoman takes hold of her arm in an iron grip.
"We'll go together," she says in a voice that leaves no room for argument before she begins dragging Tabitha back the way the two came by the wrist.
"I-I can just go and get it for you," Tabitha stammers out, but Louise doesn't acknowledge her and simply pulls her along at a brisk pace, causing Tabitha to have to scurry to keep up.
They pass the stained glass window and return to the end of the hall in which their guest rooms are located. Louise's grip on Tabitha's arm does not slacken at any point and as the pink-haired girl pushes her into her room, Tabitha feels sick with nerves.
As Louise shuts the door behind her and steps away to cross her arms and wait, Tabitha glances nervously between her classmate and the old grimoire sitting at the foot of her bed. Her cheeks redden and she hesitates as she looks back at Louise, who gives her an impatient glare.
The young bluenette reluctantly takes a seat at the foot of the bed and picks up the book with trembling hands.
As she does so, Louise approaches, standing at Tabitha's side and looking down at her expectantly. The bluenette's breath hitches at the sudden closeness of her friend's presence and her eyes flicker briefly over to Louise's face. The pinkette's gaze is focused on the open page before Tabitha, her expression one of deep concentration.
Tabitha stares at her a few seconds more, feeling as though she's waiting for a trap to spring before she slowly begins to read.
"At the peak of purest pleasure, their love for one another, their bond, their connection, and their unified souls shall reach an unforgettable plateau..." she whispers, feeling her throat begin to constrict and her cheeks flush bright crimson.
The feeling in Tabitha's chest tightens painfully as she forces herself to continue, the words echoing in the silence.
"And here in this crucial moment, when the seed of the one - untainted by potion or poultice - fills the womb of the other, shall all they have built together come crumbling down. For as they scream each other's names, they will become born anew..." Tabitha swallows hard, her eyes scanning over the ancient words once more.
As the bluenette glances up, she realizes that Louise is no longer looking at the page. Her gaze is instead locked on Tabitha, and her eyes are wide with surprise.
No, beyond that, even. Bewilderment. Absolute shock and surprise.
"There...must be another way, another method other than you and Michael- You and my familiar doing... that... together," the mage utters in a small, fearful voice: Almost as though she's trying to convince herself that another solution exists.
Desperate to both placate Louise and explain the gravity of their situation, Tabitha flicks a few pages back with shaky hands and gestures toward another rite with an index.
"Not without much preparation," she clarifies with a nervy undertone as Louise's eyes lower to the new page. "And even then, there are risks, see?"
Eyes popping at what she reads, Louise clutches a hand to her chest and gasps.
"If you were caught doing such things on school grounds... You would both be expelled!" the pink-haired girl exclaims with alarm. "You would be seen as degenerate and shameful."
"And as Michael's mistress, the blame would be yours to shoulder," Tabitha adds with a single, curt nod, closing the book and placing it into her lap. "It is for this reason I sought you out, Louise."
A flash of panic crosses the girl's expression for a split second as she registers this before she composes herself again.
"...I understand," the girl mutters, pushing out a thin exhale and folding her arms.. "...The last thing I want is for you or Michael to remain joined. B-But to indulge any of the dreadful things either of these pages suggest..."
"Are absolutely out of the question, yes," Tabitha agrees, feeling the knot of tension in her chest begin to relax ever so slightly. "Which leaves one single, practical option."
Tabitha pauses before continuing, choosing her next words very carefully.
"And that option is for Michael and I to be... intimate, Louise," the bluenette specifies, her cheeks heating ferociously as memories of what transpired at the Halfway House flash through her thoughts.
"It is for this reason I've come to you," the blue-haired girl finishes, bowing her head apologetically and avoiding meeting Louise's gaze.
Tabitha hears the noble's breath hitch again as she takes in her words, before she finally speaks once more, her tone unsteady and full of conflicting emotions.
"Tabitha, is there really no other way...?"
The blue-haired mage looks up at her companion, her lips pressed tightly together, before slowly shaking her head.
"The grimoire has some alternatives listed in the appendix, but all of those lacking utter depravity are far too complicated, even for me," Tabitha informs her as the pinkette's gaze drops down to the carpeted floor of her room.
The two sit in silence for a short time as Louise mulls over what Tabitha has told her. Tabitha, for her part, watches the noble anxiously, waiting for some response - any response at all.
"Can you not alter the ritual, at least...?" Louise asks, her cheeks blossoming to an adorable shade of pink. "Can you not find something else you both can do together that isn't... well, that?"
Tabitha's heart kicks with sinful delight in her petite chest.
She'd gladly take Michael's thick, girthy manhood and plunge it far down the back of her throat a second time if she had to - with or without any pressing matter demanding it. Oh yes, would swallow every single spurting rope of the blonde's white, creamy seed if she thought it might offer a solution.
Pulled free from the notion by a short, sharp twinge of reality, Tabitha pushes out a shallow exhale and shakes her head.
"Mine and Michael's union would already be severed had our pleasures on the road to Tristania proven sufficient, no, Louise?"
Louise nods and lowers her head, biting her lip.
"...I suppose it would have, yes."
Tabitha's gaze flicks between her friend's troubled expression and the grimoire on her lap, feeling her chest tighten as she presses a nervous fingertip to the space where her womb resides.
"The ritual requires that our two souls become one," she utters in a quiet tone, a tremor of emotion creeping into her voice. "In every sense of the world."
Tabitha's lips press tightly together, before she continues, "For it to be successful, Michael and I must reach such a point..."
"I know what is required, okay...?!" Louise almost hisses, causing the mage to blink up in surprise. "And I can't, Tabitha. I just...can't...!"
The bluenette frowns.
"Louise...?"
"You love Michael, and I... I love Michael..."
Tabitha feels the color drain from her cheeks, her blood freezing in her veins, as her classmate begins to choke out a response in a pained and trembling voice.
"A-And for you to have him, to enjoy him in such a way that I as his mistress cannot..."
A hot, sharp sting prickles at the corners of Tabitha's eyes as the pinkette continues, the sound of the girl's voice becoming so distressed it brings her eyes to well and dampen with tears.
"I would not be able to live with such a thing, Tabitha, so please... I-I..." Louise stammers, clasping both hands over her heart as though her chest is about to explode.
Tabitha's gaze remains on her companion. Her eyes remain on her, watching in wide-eyed silence as the pink-haired girl shudders with intense emotion.
"Louise?"
Louise doesn't move or acknowledge Tabitha's words. She just stands there with her arms around her torso, clutching at her shoulders as though she's cold. Tabitha stares at her, unsure what else she can say or do that will not make things even worse.
She reaches up to wipe at the corners of her eyes with the heel of a hand, her chest aching as she watches the noble shake like a leaf.
"Louise...?"
Louise flinches as she feels a tentative, gentle hand touch her forearm. Her gaze falls downwards, down to Tabitha, as the young woman slowly stands before her and offers up a gentle smile.
The pink-haired girl stares back at her quivering, fearful eyes, her lip trembling. Tabitha looks into Louise's eyes for a long moment, before she pulls her classmate into an embrace.
A short, sharp breath escapes Louise's throat before Tabitha tightens her arms around Louise's back.
"If you are angry, Louise, I understand," the bluenette says in a low, gentle tone. "I only sought a solution, however, as you asked of me."
"I know you did, but..." Louise tries to say, only for her words to catch in her throat as she feels a hand running up her back in a soft, comforting gesture.
"If you do not want me to do it, then I will not," Tabitha affirms, her voice low and caring as she rubs her classmate's back with a palm. "As Michael's mistress, the choice rests with you, after all..."
The pinkette lets out a small sob at this, the sound muffled into Tabitha's shoulder as she rests her face on it. Tabitha smiles faintly and tightens her embrace.
"...Would you prefer Michael and I remain joined for the time being?" the blue-haired girl asks. "Until something else presents itself...?"
The pinkette says nothing in response to this, only pressing herself further into Tabitha's chest with another sob. Tabitha feels Louise's hands ball up against her back.
The two stay like that, embraced in each other's arms for a minute or two. Louise, after a while, manages to relax, and the trembling subsides from her shoulders as the minutes pass by.
"The two of you- You may remain as you are, for now..." Louise utters, her words slightly muffled.
Then, in the following moments, the pinkette pulls free of Tabitha's embrace and composes herself, clearing her throat as she does so. The noble wipes away any remnants of moisture from the corners of her eyes, and Tabitha looks her over in fashion.
Count Vallière's youngest daughter swiftly averts her gaze, choosing to get up from her place at the foot of the bed and spin around on her heels so that she faces the door.
"I-I'm returning to my room, Tabitha. And... please," the dainty mage follows, glancing over her shoulder with an anxious, uncertain look on her face. "...let Princess Henrietta know that I won't be attending our hero's meal tonight."
Tabitha blinks and nods once as her companion bows her head curtly then makes several slow paces toward the door. She then reaches for the handle, stalls, and sighs heavily.
"...You may have Michael escort you to dinner if you can find the idiot. But please, don't tell him a word of what we spoke about here this evening... not one word..." Louise states with finality.
Tabitha blinks and bows her head, her chest filling with warmth and relief, before uttering in reply.
"Of course, Louise."
Her companion glances up at the bluenette with a nod, the beginnings of a smile gracing her lips as she slowly pulls the door open, her fingers resting on its handle for several long, lingering moments before she finally continues.
"And in return, I-I'd like for you to do me a favour," the pinkette utters shakily, her cheeks flushing crimson again. "A-As one noble lady to another..."
Tabitha blinks as Louise finally steps out the door into the hall and looks back, a dark shadow seeming to pass over the pinkette's features in an instant.
"...R-Request a sheathe be delivered to my room," Louise mutters in a barely audible voice, her lips trembling and her eyes downcast. "A-A very wide one."
And with those final words, Louise takes a short, sharp breath, swallows hard, then pulls the door closed behind her.
Tabitha stares at the wooden frame for several long seconds as the sounds of Louise's receding footsteps gradually fade into silence, before she slowly sinks onto the bed and flops down on her back with a heavy sigh.
"...A sheathe..." the bluenette murmurs to herself, feeling her cheeks blush crimson as she places a palm on her womb.
Tabitha closes her eyes and takes a deep, steadying breath as her thoughts heat with the memory of Michael's manhood plunging deep into the back of her throat.
"Very wide..." the bespectacled girl utters, a tingle shooting straight to her core.
Back through the palace gardens and several ornate hallways, I finally reach my destination: The door to mine and Louise's bedroom. Nodding to myself, I push through the entrance without so much as knocking, and, just as expected, I find Louise inside.
My pink-haired mistress sits cross-legged in the centre of a massive, four-post bed covered in luxurious blankets and cushions. She's dressed down to her white uniform shirt and plain pink panties and has the sheets and pillows gathered up in front of her, held up like a wall as she frowns.
"Hey, Louise," I greet her gently, flashing a small smile her way. "Back in time for dinner."
Louise blinks and lifts her head, peering over her pillow-wall at me.
"You may go ahead without me if you like, I won't be having any," she utters, a trace of sadness in her voice.
My smile fades as I close the door behind me, a knot of concern tightening in my stomach as I regard her.
"You sure? What's got you so knotted up, hmm?"
Louise sighs and shakes her head, looking away.
"Don't worry about it, Michael. It's nothing."
"It doesn't seem like nothing," I reply, crossing my arms as I approach the side of the bed.
I slowly pull myself onto the mattress beside her. The springs groan underneath our weight.
Louise looks back up at me and I notice her eyes are puffy, like she's been crying. My brow furrows in concern as the pink-haired girl offers me a sad smile.
"...And even if it isn't, what if I don't want to talk about it, idiot?" she says softly, averting her gaze and shaking her head once again.
"Then you don't have to, I guess," I shrug, returning her smile with a warm one of my own as I shift my position on the bed and rest against a pillow.
"Still, you seemed fine earlier, when I left you with Henrietta," I recall, touching a hand to one of Louise's dainty shoulders. "What's changed? You look like a rainy weekend in Manchester."
The girl, obviously caught off guard by the totally foreign turn of phrase I just chucked out there, gives a confused frown, looking over to me.
"Is that bad?"
"Very," I nod solemnly, biting my lip and holding back a smirk as I recall my last time visiting Manchester with Ryan and the lads. It pissed down with rain both days we were there.
Louise, as predicted, gives an incredulous stare, before rolling her eyes and returning her attention to the cushions and sheets in her arms.
"...Idiot."
"Yeah, well... seeing you sitting about in your shirt and panties looking all fed up's cause for concern," I inform her with a raised brow. "So, you'll have to forgive me."
Pressing her index and thumb to her temples and groaning deeply, Louise throws down the sheets in her lap and sighs.
"I-It's nothing you need concern yourself with, I've told you. You have a meal with Henrietta in thirty minutes, and Tabitha is already waiting for you, in her room," the mage tells me in a small voice, turning to look me in the eye again.
Can't say I'm convinced. Something's amiss here.
And, reading as much from my expression, Louise's features twist into a frown as her eyes soften.
"Honestly, I'm fine. Just..."
I watch Louise sigh and bite her lip, her eyes flickering across the bed, the sheets, the floor - anywhere but on me - before they settle on my hand, which sits idly beside me.
The pinkette hesitantly places her own over my fingers and gently squeezes them in her grasp. I don't move an inch - just watch her in silence.
"I took off my skirt to use the privy chamber, to pee," the noble tells me with a light, pink blush forming across her cheeks as I tilt my head curiously to the side. "...A-And, when I finished, I didn't feel like putting my skirt back on, or my stockings."
I nod, gesturing for her to continue, still seriously unconvinced.
Louise takes another shaky breath before continuing, "When I sat back down on the bed, I thought... 'I want to stay here, quietly'. 'I want no further worries or woes today'."
Okay, things are making a little more sense now.
"Still thinking about everything with Wardes, the engagement and all that?" I ask in a quiet voice.
Louise's lip quivers for a moment as I feel her grasp on my hand tighten, and she slowly nods.
"Mm," the girl hums softly.
"Gothcha, loud and clear," I tell her, moving my hand so that it wraps around one of Louise's dainty wrists as the girl bites her lip again.
"You go ahead and find Tabitha, okay...?" she asks in a meek tone as I look her in the eyes.
"Yeah, alright, I suppose so. Henrietta wants to thank us, so I'll play the part," I reply, shifting my weight on the bed to move.
But Louise shakes her head and looks at me with a pair of deep, pleading eyes, which halt me in my tracks.
"I'll be okay here, Michael, don't worry," the noble tells me, flashing me a small, strained smile.
I sigh, relenting to her wishes with a stern nod.
"Fine, fine. If you need me though, Louise, I'm always happy to listen: You know that," I tell her gently as the girl's grip on my hand slackens. "Now, you just get nice and snug, cheer up. I'll ask one of the maids to bring you a plate of something while I'm there."
Louise blinks as she looks at me again, a faint hint of colour rising to her cheeks.
"O-Okay, thank you..." the girl replies as I grin and reach over to ruffle a hand in her hair, making a mess of her fringe. "Ah! M-Michael, you dolt!"
"And don't be so hard on yourself," I remind her as I lean across to peck the top of her forehead and stand from the bed. "Whatever happens with Wardes, you'll always have me. You know that."
"I-I know," Louise mutters, a faint trace of a smile creeping onto her features as she averts her gaze.
Without another word, I make for the door and step out.
"Okay, next up, get Blue," I murmur to myself, looking directly across to her chamber's door.
Taking a moment to make sure Louise has returned to her comfortable, quiet little pillow fort and is no worse for wear, I then cross over to the hall's other side and give a short, sharp rap of my knuckles against the wood.
I pause for several seconds, waiting in silence.
Then, after several moments, the door to Tabitha's bedroom swings open and she steps out to greet me. Her heartbeat thumps gently in my chest through our bond, and her cheeks are flushed the faintest shade of pink.
The bluenette, who now stands before me wearing a pair of thigh-high black stockings and a plain white blouse - much the same as Louise - smiles at me, her blue eyes slowly and gently warming.
"...Shall we go, Michael?"
I grin, stepping up to the young woman and reaching a hand around to the small of her back, guiding her gently toward me.
"Sure thing," I reply as Tabitha reaches for my other hand, entwining her fingers with mine. "After you, Blue, if you know your way around, that is," I finish with a small chuckle.
Tabitha nods, her grip on my hand tightening the slightest bit.
"Once, when I was small," the blue-haired noble reveals.
I smirk, Tabitha guiding us down the corridor toward what must be the dining room. She shoots a glance in my direction as we make our way toward our destination, her eyes filled with a deep, comforting warmth as I sense a strong, affectionate emotion being transmitted through our link.
Several minutes of traversing Tristania Palace's winding halls leads us to a large set of closed double doors. Here, a pair of maids dressed in frilly formal uniforms address Tabitha and me with a unified bow.
"Forgive me, Sir, Miss, our colleagues are still preparing the tables for your meal," one of the two, a dainty lass with pigtailed white hair and rounded cheeks, explains. "Please wait just a little longer."
Tabitha and I nod.
"No prob," I answer.
The maid looks up at me, blinking, as does the other maid - a slender blonde. I shrug with a grin.
"Something amiss, ladies?" I ask.
They shake their heads, their cheeks colouring ever so slightly.
"N-Not at all, Mister Michael," answers the white-haired girl. "It's just that..."
The slender blonde clears her throat and speaks in the other's place. "We hear Her Highness Henrietta presented you with a royal sigil..."
"Yes," the smaller maid follows. "...Is it true?"
I chuckle to myself, free my hand from Tabitha's, and reach into my trouser pocket.
"That's right," I reply, taking out the lovely hand-sewn article and presenting it to the maidly duo.
"Incredible," the two girls say in unison.
The pair slowly look over the embroidered crest and exchange glances with each other. Then, with a polite bow, they address me with the most adorable of smiles.
"I-It's a pleasure to have you staying with us like this, Mister Michael," says the blonde, a flush creeping up into her cheeks. "And... Thank you so very much."
The white-haired maid nods in agreement, before gesturing for Tabitha and me to wait at the double doors at the end of the hallway before both heading off down the hall. The petite, white-haired miss lets out a girlish giggle as she turns to the blonde girl beside her, whispering something under her breath.
Then, after a moment, she spins on her heels to face me with her arms folded behind her back, and winks.
"It's Elisa, my name. I-It's a real pleasure to meet you, Mister Michael."
"Same to you, Elisa," I answer the girl with a small, friendly nod.
Her cheeks darkening at my being nice to her, the maid twirls back around and sets off running down the hall.
"Wait, Elisa, you dolt!" her friend shouts, following after her on clacking heels.
I shake my head at the sight of the two, return my crest to my pocket, and turn my attention back to Tabitha.
Silence flows freely between us for a good few moments.
That is, until Louise being so down in the dumps returns to the front of my thoughts.
"So, uh... Quick question for you, Tabitha."
Tabitha looks to me expectantly as the sound of my words causes the bluenette's heartbeat to thump a little faster through our bond. I sense her nervousness but choose to press on regardless.
"Louise seems pretty gloomy. Any idea what's up with her?" I ask the girl.
Tabitha frowns and shakes her head.
"No idea, sorry."
"Nothing, eh? That's fine," I say with a small sigh as I return my hand to Tabitha's, entwining my fingers with hers once more.
The girl returns a look of sympathy, biting her lip.
Her nervousness... I wonder if she knows more than she's letting on.
"You sure it's nothing-"
The dining hall's double doors slowly begin to open, cutting my question off before I can finish it. I sigh again.
"Ah well. Dinner time," I say under my breath.
A tall man dressed in a fancy chef's uniform stands before us.
"Your meal is prepared, Sir, Miss," the gent informs us with a polite bow. "And whom do I address at present, if I may be so bold, Mister DeSilva and Miss Vallière?"
I nod, releasing my hand from Tabitha's and pointing to myself.
"You're partway there, sir. I'm Michael, girl with me here is Miss Tabitha, one of your other guests," I tell the guy, glancing Blue's way for a second, and then back. "Miss Val- Louise, won't be joining us tonight, I'm afraid. She'd prefer dinner be sent to our room if that's alright?"
"Miss von Zerbst should, though," Tabitha adds in her usual, soft tone. "...I think."
The gent's eyes light up and he flashes us a warm smile.
"Of course, of course. Well then, Mister DeSilva, Miss Tabitha," he nods, taking a step to the side. "Do step right in: Take a seat anywhere at the centre table, Princess Henrietta should shortly arrive with Miss Miranda."
I thank the gent for his kind words, and then Tabitha and I enter the dining hall.
Louise, still in her panties, falls against the four-poster bed's silky sheets with a deep, pained exhale. Her arms lie loosely by her sides as her eyes remain glued to the ceiling high above.
The young girl bites her lip and runs the fingers of a single hand through her pink hair, her chest heaving up and down in slow, labored breaths.
"...Why didn't you just tell him, stupid?" the noble murmurs in a whisper to herself, shaking her head and letting her eyes slip shut.
In her mind, a dozen different outcomes present themselves: Tabitha not remaining true to her word and spilling her secret; Kirche having her way with Michael before their mission to Lenore. Or Tabitha.
Or, Goddess forbid, both girls at once.
Louise sighs again, reaching a hand over to clutch one of the larger, fluffier cushions to her chest and holding it against her with a firm squeeze.
"...This is all happening too fast," the girl whines, pouting at the air. "And, Michael... You..."
Her thoughts wander to the tall, handsome man who, for all his cluelessness, has taken care of her in her time of need. Supported her. Loved her.
"You dolt, you should just... do something about this!" the young, pink-haired girl orders the air.
"...Something. I don't know!" she snarls, turning her gaze down to the sheets beneath her.
"Anything..."
And, when the soundless air does not grace the highborn girl with a reply, she scrunches her eyes shut and screams into the linens.
"This is so unfair!"
Several moments pass, with no answer.
Eventually, Louise's head falls back against the pillow and her eyes reopen, settling on the wooden, stately ceiling high above.
The sound of approaching footsteps across the hard, marble floor outside cut short the silence. The girl, who had been idly rubbing the pillow against her crotch for a small amount of time, lets go of the cushion and sits up with a jolt.
Louise blinks as a sharp rapping knock sounds at the chamber's entrance.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," the pink-haired mage announces to her guest with an annoyed grumble.
She rolls her legs off the side of the bed and places her bare feet down against the cold marble floor.
The knock repeats, sounding sharper this time. More urgent.
"Just a moment!" the young lady shouts, taking a deep, calming breath.
Louise pushes herself from the edge of the bed with a gentle heave and rises to her feet, her hands idly straightening her white, button-up shirt as she slowly paces over to the door.
Then, with one hand reaching for the polished brass and the other, the fingers brushing a tuft of fringe from her face, she slowly pulls the entrance open.
The maid waiting beyond it, her cheeks burning red, bows.
"M-Miss Tabitha told me you required this, milady," she states, a hand outstretching a small wooden box. "I'm sorry it took a while. Your... request... caught us off guard."
Louise, who stands before the woman in just her blouse and panties, accepts the box with a nervy smile, nodding as a tingle of nervous excitement rushes through her.
Small heart hammering as though a drum, the petite mage lifts the lid from the box.
Sitting on a fancy velvet cushion is a medium-sized glass jar. Inside the jar is a pink-purple phallic-shaped item: A sheathe suspended in transparent fluid.
Content that her request has been fulfilled, Louise places the lid back down on the box and abruptly clears her throat. The maid, who wears an expression of shyness beyond anything the noble girl has ever witnessed, flinches.
"O-Okay, thank you," Louise utters in a low voice. "I, um... You told no one, I hope...?"
The maid shakes her head firmly, causing a wave of relief to wash over the pinkette's heart.
"Absolutely not, miss. Please, take this opportunity to enjoy yourself," she tells her, and Louise's cheeks flush redder than the red heart printed on the box's front. "Oh, what I mean to say is- Forgive me, I'm being too bold..."
"I... It's okay," the mage stutters, shaking her head and returning her gaze to the container in which her special gift resides. "T-Thank you."
"Of course. Have a good evening, Miss Vallière," the maid replies with another small bow, turning to leave.
The noble girl offers the servant a silent, parting wave as the woman slips back down the corridor, her footfalls dulling with every few moments passed.
Once she's alone again, Louise shuts the chamber door, placing the wooden container with its glass jar into one of her bags, then hurries back to the bed and sits, her chest still pounding.
"O-Okay, Louise, you have it," she whispers, leaning down to remove her shirt and underwear before sinking back into the sheets. "N-Now all you have to do is..."
The nobleman's daughter swallows. Hard. Her entire body trembles.
"...Use it," the young woman mumbles. "With Michael..."
Biting her lip and scrunching her eyes shut, the pinkette's hands slowly, ever so slowly, slide down to her chest. She then brings her fingers around the two tiny buds on either breast, giving the tender flesh a firm pinch and eliciting a squeak.
She'll do it. She'll be brave and claim her beloved!
Before any of the others take their chance and strike.
Fouquet the Crumbling Dirt falls away from the bars of her cell in the depths of Tristania Palace's dungeon and presses her back to the cold, damp wall behind her with a shallow exhale.
For days upon days, the former noblewoman has laid in this filthy cell: A prisoner of Tristain's Royal Army and a prisoner to Princess Henrietta, heir to the Tristanian throne.
Memories of her golem's defeat at the hands of that pesky Valière girl's void magic still haunt the professional thief, her heart racing and her mind screaming whenever she remembers that the young, pink-haired brat somehow bested her.
"Damn that girl, damn her," the earth mage growls, her voice trembling in a low snarl.
Just then, the damp, moldy air surrounding her drops to an icy coldness. The hairs on her arm stand on end as she feels her breath begin to mist.
Then, as Fouquet blinks and rubs at her eyes, a hooded figure steps into view beyond the iron bars of her cell as if appearing from the shadows themselves.
"Fouquet," the figure says, his voice one of familiar stoicness.
That of an ally, a friend of sorts.
"...You, what are you doing here?" the woman asks with a small scowl, her eyes flickering from side to side to check that the hall remains empty.
The man smirks, takes a step nearer, and taps an index against the bars.
"You needn't worry, Matilda, the guards are changing shifts presently," the shadowy man informs her in his deep, monotonous voice.
Fouquet gives an impressed frown and pushes herself from the wall, standing a little straighter.
"...And so you thought to check on little old me," the earth mage murmurs beneath her breath with a tiny, bemused smirk, eyeing the dark, hooded man's features as she paces forward. "How generous."
The man nods from beneath his hood and says nothing further for the moment.
"Who sent you, our master?" the captive thief presses in a low murmur.
Again, her friend gives a short nod.
Fouquet feels the faintest trace of relief wash through her mind, her lips curling up in a faint, sad smile as the figure before her folds his arms.
"Your defeat at the hands of Valière's youngest has caused him something of a setback," the hooded man says, his voice betraying a hint of emotion for a mere moment, before returning to the dull tone in which she has become so accustomed. "His plans will need adjusting."
Fouquet's eyes widen, her mind racing to understand.
"M-My defeat? Adjusting?" the earth mage repeats. "How was I supposed to know that the little cow possesses void magic of all things...?!"
The man raises a hand in silence and Fouquet falls quiet.
"I was not sent here to discuss past failings," the shadowed man replies as the sound of guards' heavy boots approaching in the corridor beyond echoes through the cold air. "Only that which will transpire next."
The former noblewoman gives an incredulous smirk.
"Which is what, exactly, the brat? Will you move on her?" she asks.
The dark man shakes his head, unfolding his arms as the footsteps draw ever nearer.
"No, Wardes shall pacify that particular... oddity, in due time, along with her fire-flinging Guardian," he informs Fouquet in a hushed whisper, raising a finger and tapping its end against his neck. "Our next steps shall be to target Prince Wales, and deal with the bothersome young princess, Henrietta."
Fouquet's eyes widen, her thoughts racing.
"...Wales? Then that means Albion's Royalists are-"
"Dealt with, correct," her ally cuts her off, the hooded man's face taking on a faint hint of amusement, visible even beneath his shadow. "Which means we now need only ascertain Wales' location."
"Then... let me help you, get me out of here and I'll-"
The man shakes his head.
"No, Fouquet, you will remain here until we deem you worthy of release," he replies, turning from her with a swirl of his black, flowing robes. "The mission will begin shortly. Until then..."
Fouquet clenches her fist and calls out as the footsteps of the guards outside reach the hallway.
"Wait, don't leave me here to rot in this cell! Please!" the former noble begs, tears brimming in the corners of her eyes.
No reply comes. Her friend, the hooded man, is already gone, his cloak melding back into the shadows, as if it had never existed.
The door leading into the corridor bursts open, and a quartet of guards with their weapons drawn enter in unison.
The closest of the group, a large man with a red, drooping mustache, brandishes his halberd at the lone, shackled woman and lets out a barking guffaw.
"Quiet in there, wench! We heard your screamin' just now," the man warns with a smirk, stepping up to the cell. "Now, you keep it down or you're not getting any supper this evening, eh?"
Fouquet, who remains with her back to the cell bars and her head lowered in a pained slouch, lets out a pained sniff and shakes her head.
"...Of course, forgive my outburst, it... will not happen again."
The guard sneers.
"Aye, make sure it doesn't."
The man spits at her feet and leaves her to stew, his three fellows in arms following in unison.
When the clanging echo of their footfalls finally fades from the chamber, Fouquet slides down to her knees in the corner of the cell.
"Dammit all..."
To be continued...
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