Sorry this chapter took so long. I ended up writing more than 17000 words over the last month and had to divide the latest part into two. I'm also busy juggling a handful of projects and part-time jobs.

Anyway, I'm also opening a new poll over on my profile page and I'd really like your feedback.

Which Zero No Tsukaima heroine would you like to see visit Michael's world? Cast your vote and decide! Or leave a review. You may vote for up to two girls.

You will also notice that Louise is absent from the poll. Don't worry, there are plot reasons surrounding her not being there.

...

Henrietta's trusted maid, her resolve shaken, is threatened with a most depraved form of punishment to keep her in line with Wardes' wicked plot. Meanwhile, Michael and Kirche bond over music whilst practicing magic together.


Tristania - Part V - Threats & Deception

I wake up to the sound of a rooster crowing in the distance and the gentle warmth of the sun filtering through the curtains. Louise's slender arms are wrapped tightly around my waist, her fingers lightly curled into my chest as if she doesn't want to let go of me.

Flashes of the intense (and honestly pretty dirty) foreplay we enjoyed until the early hours flash through my thoughts, and smiling, I brush a gentle hand through her wavy candyfloss locks.

"Absolutely have to brush my teeth before anything else, damn," I decide with a soft chuckle.

My eyes drift upward to the canopy of our four-poster bed and I smile.

Seriously, I feel more at ease with Halkeginia the longer I'm here.

The lack of hustle and bustle, at least compared to my native Kent or nearby London, is honestly something of a treat.

Plus, I'm getting used to the lack of social media: The nagging need for an internet connection has passed, even.

I've forged real, genuine bonds with people over the past month or so: The kind of deep emotional links I honestly found hard to build after Anna and I broke up. Relationships based around genuine friendship. Some of them came about through pretty chaotic events, true, but they're no less special for it.

Each of the girls race through my thoughts.

Siesta. Kirche. Tabitha. Even Montmorency. And, of course, my mistress herself, the short, lovable pain in the backside that she is.

And, as if she knows I'm thinking about her, Princess stirs in her sleep and softly mutters "Mine" whilst pressing her small chest up against the bare skin of mine.

Smiling, I lift a hand to brush the side of her face with my thumb and press a light kiss to the crown of her forehead, eliciting a satisfied hum from the dainty noble.

The rooster crows again and I can't help but smirk as she lets out an irritable huff. She then peels herself from my chest with a grumble and sits up in the bed with scruffy hair and droopy eyes.

"Morning, love."

"Uuuuu..." she whines softly. "That darn bird is far too loud..."

I smile, gently grasping her small hips in my palms as she turns to me.

"Ratty as ever first thing, I see," I tease her as she squints at me in annoyance.

"Hands off, you, I have to pee," she complains as she scrambles up off the bed whips out a white porcelain pot from under it and stumbles in the direction of the adjoining privy chamber: The small room leftwards from our bedroom door.

She heads through the door and I hear her place the chamber pot on the stone floor.

"Charming as ever, Louise," I say with a soft laugh, shaking my head.

I get out of bed and collect my discarded shirt and trousers from their spot just before the privy's exposed archway, kneeling to scoop them up. The light tinkle of Louise relieving herself drifts through the door into the bedchamber.

I sigh in light of Louise's openness and slip on my shirt.

"You know, in my world, we shut the door when we use the bathroom, Princess," I tell her with the slightest hint of humour to my voice, noticing my boxers a few feet from the dresser by the wall, across from the open doorway.

"Oh be quiet, Michael, I simply don't see the need," she huffs back through the door. "It isn't as though you peeping at me is a concern," the girl decrees, clearing her throat loudly. "Especially after that... lewd suggestion of yours I indulged last night," she adds, almost shyly.

I laugh.

"Lewd suggestions you practically leapt at trying, you mean," I correct her, stepping in front of the privy doorway. Doing my best to look away from Louise despite her indifference, I grab my boxers and slip them on as Louise continues peeing.

"S-Shut up, you pervert...!" Louise counters as the flow of her stream slows to a tiny trickle. "...I just wanted to know what it felt like, having someone else do it for me, I mean..."

Back still turned to the girl, I look down at my open palm and flex my digits, a reminder of the particular thing Louise permitted me, no, practically begged me to help her with last night.

"Hey, hey, ease up there, Princess, it's fine," I say to Louise with a soft, almost teasing tone as she begins wiping herself dry with one of the many rags placed by an urn.

I sigh.

"Honestly though," I add in a less sarcastic voice, "...You're fine, right? You're not sore or anything down there, are you?"

The soft rustle of the rag halts as Louise, from the sound of things, shifts a bit in the chamber, still facing away from me.

"A bit," the girl admits with a slightly nervous tone of voice as she sets the cloth down. "B-But it isn't too uncomfortable or anything of the sort, I promise. I'm just..." The girl pauses and sighs deeply.

Noting her change in demeanour, I turn around and face my pink-haired master, who, despite her earlier assurances, blushes the faintest tint of pink upon her familiar's gaze being trained upon her whilst she's squatted in such a vulnerable position.

"...I'm just surprised at myself, at all of this," she continues in a quiet voice. "That I have been so... willing to discard my morality as a noblewoman, and that doing so has felt so..."

"Enjoyable?" I pose with a smirk and a raised brow as Louise gets back up onto her feet and carefully nudges the partially filled chamber pot aside with one of her dainty feet.

She glances away, her face red with embarrassment. She then forrows her brow as if in an attempt to hide her emotions.

"I suppose so..."

I shrug, flashing a genuine smile.

"Thought so. And, knowing you, Louise, heck, probably most folks if what you say about Tristain being so reserved is true, I'm willing to take a shot in the dark with something: A guy asking how you're feeling after we got so hot and heavy feels pretty strange, am I right?"

Louise, her face still flushed a faint red, blinks in surprise at my deduction before nodding her head with a slight pout.

"Mm. I don't imagine a man, not least a nobleman of Tristain would be too... sympathetic... about the sensitivities of a noble lady after the fact..." Louise explains with a frown as I lean my head in toward hers. "At least, that is how Éléonore once urged me to view such matters."

She pauses as I do, then flinches as I plant a kiss on the cheek.

"Well, I'm not Tristanian. I know, shocker. And even if this sounds a little harsh, your sister's probably just upset because her marriage fell through," I tell my master, keeping my tone gentle so I don't upset her.

I let my lips linger on Louise's soft skin as she shifts back and forth on her feet, unsure of how to react. Eventually, she simply sighs in acceptance.

"You're likely right, but still... Here I am, merely seventeen, enjoying the touch of my familiar - who is not a man of noble birth or a Tristanian in any way - before I'm so much as wed," she continues, glancing back toward me as I pull my lips from her cheek and release her from hold.

And, having finally found out Louise's age after having lived in Halkeginia for a little over a month, a large, powerful wave of relief crashes over me.

Exhaling deeply, all tension living in the back of my mind over the things we've been doing together fades away.

Girl's legal tender, at least in the UK. Now, if this were the States, it'd be quite a different story.

Her eyes full of curiosity, Louise stares at my serious look.

I lean my head in against hers again and rest my hand on the crown of her head, smiling gently as I ruffle her pink hair.

"Is something wrong, Michael...?" she wonders with a raised brow.

"Oh, no, not at all, Louise, it's just," I reassure the girl with a widening smile, "...Let me throw something out there though, for interest's sake."

I shift my fingers and run my fingertips along her scalp. Louise shivers lightly against my touch. Here, my heartbeat picking up as I prepare to ask what's on my mind, I lift my eyes toward the privy ceiling.

Actually, applying my world's laws and custons to Tristain might be a little out there.

Best I just calm down a bit and ask Louise straight. No stressing.

"At what age here in Tristain are two people allowed to... get involved with each other like we have?" I pose, still choosing my words with care as my fingers stop against her temple. "I'm asking as a guy from a completely different world."

Louise's eyes widen. "...Michael, I don't quite understand... A person's age matters in your world?"

"Absolutely," I reply without hesitation.

"Ahaa," Louise mutters, dipping her head in understanding as a small blush returns to her cheeks. "A person being wed matters most in Tristain, not their age: If they're of noble birth, at least."

Okay, that right there sets a... concerning standard, to put it mildly. Real concerning.

"So, there isn't one...? What about commoners?" I press.

Louise shakes her head.

"There is in a manner of speaking, Michael," Louise begins with a cautious undertone, as though she gleens the displeasure I have. "Typically, one may be... intimate, once they're ripe to sire children, and in a commoner's case, prepared to work: The start of one's teenage years in Halkeginia."

"Wow, back it up for a sec!" I say in a voice of surprise and worry as Louise flinches at my sudden hike in volume. I obviously startled her. "Like, thirteen...?! Really?!"

I know it's a different world at all, but dammit. Hearing this sort of thing's pretty sobering...!

"Yes, thereabouts," Louise confirms, taking on the appearance of someone trying their very hardest to find the right words in light of my near slack-jawed astonishment. "Although there can be... consequences for older, worldlier suitors seeking out those vastly younger than they."

Dammit... This rabbit hole's getting deeper.

I raise a nervous brow.

"...Indulge me."

Louise nods, her expression hardening a touch.

"Unwritten courtship rules protect us nobles: It is typically seen as taboo if a highborn father offers his daughter's hand to a person more than fifteen years older. Doing so brings great shame and dishonour. A couple of extreme cases have even resulted in duels to the death."

My eyes widen and my heart kicks in my chest.

Oh shit! I mean, that's something, but a fifteen-year gap...?!

"All right, as ever, you upmarket folks are covered. What about everyone else...?" I ask. A part of me fears the answer I'll get, too.

Louise presses a digit to the side of her cheek and ponders.

"Peasant fathers take matters into their own hands if such taboos transpire. This is especially if it is a daughter who is mistreated," she explains with a light sigh and a slight tilt of her head as her features soften. "Or that is how Éléonore explained it to me, by way of our servants, at least."

"Vigilante-style, then? Fair enough, I can accept that," I respond in an approving tone, nodding. "Though I'm guessing commoners don't have a leg to stand on if a noble does the wronging, right?"

Louise shakes her head somewhat nonchalantly.

"You have the right of it, yes."

"...Uh-huh, got it," I respond, trying to keep the displeasure in my voice at a bare minimum.

"Michael?" Louise begins with a small, uncertain voice as my fingers slip away from the crown of her head and I stand up straight, my gaze drifting in the direction of the privy's stonework archway.

"Don't stress over it, Princess, it's fine: Just my world and yours kind of clashing again, really," I explain in a low, somewhat gloomy tone of voice before taking a few steps back and folding my arms. "You mentioning your age a minute ago got me thinking, that's all," I add, trying my best to offer my mistress a reassuring smile.

She smiles back at me with a hesitant gaze, then glances in the direction of the door behind. "Well... I should wash my face," Louise decides as she walks back into the bedroom proper and I follow after her. "And I should get dressed as well."

I nod my head, eager to move past the revelation my mistress shared just now. "Yup, sounds good. Once you're done, I'll do the same," I respond in a tone of voice as close to upbeat and relaxed as I can make it. "I'm absolutely making the most of the running water here, even if it's cold."

Louise gives a small hum of approval and walks over to her large satchel at the foot of the bed. Kneeling, she brings out a fresh pair of panties and a shirt for herself, and a clean pair of boxers and a shirt for me, too.

I smile in appreciation and she glances up at me with a look that absolutely says "You're welcome, you big oaf."

My mistress gets to her feet, leaving my boxers on top of the bed before she steps into her fresh underwear and begins sliding them slowly up her petite, slim legs.

"You dressing yourself today Louise, or do you need me?" I ask, removing yesterday's boxers and putting on the clean pair my master selected for me.

Louise smiles softly as she brings the dainty white panties around her perky backside with a gentle twang, and slips them into place before moving on to her shirt. "I'll do it by myself today Michael, thank you. You may focus on dressing yourself."

I give a thumbs up. "Understood."

It takes Louise about two minutes to pull on her clean white blouse, and less than half of one to fasten up her black uniform skirt with its golden clasps and lace the black socks of her academy uniform up to her thighs.

"We getting a bath tonight then, Louise? Before we leave?" I ask her with a small smile.

Louise blinks as though the thought didn't occur to her, then smiles back and nods her head with a confident "yes".

Answer provided, I reach for my trousers again, quickly fastening the button on the waist and moving to put my shoes.

I then step around Louise and collect my academy jacket from its spot at the edge of the bed.

A short, sharp rap at our bedroom door causes my mistress to flinch. She turns with a look of surprise on her face. "I wonder who that could be..." the girl ponders aloud.

I shrug and make for the door, grabbing the handle.

"Well, we'll soon find out, I guess."

Opening the door, I'm met by the sight of a certain well-endowed Germanian with fiery red hair.

"Oh, morning, Kirche," I say with a slight smile. "Something up?"

She fires back with a wink and a smile that's almost predatory in nature.

"Good morning, Michael~" The tall woman practically coos with a light purr, her sultry gaze shifting over my chest as I hold the door open for her. "I trust you slept well last night?"

I give the redhead a short nod as she lets out an alluring giggle.

"Well enough, yeah," I answer in a somewhat awkward tone, the faintest tinge of heat colouring my cheeks. "Er... Louise is just getting dressed if it's her you're after."

"Oh?" Kirche answers in a low, seductive voice, leaning in closer to me. "Actually, darling, it's you I want. I came to see if you would perhaps like to practice magic together?"

I glance back to Louise.

The pinkette, having heard Kirche's request loud and clear, frowns.

"Is that all you intend to do with my familiar, von Zerbst?" she follows with a light huff.

Kirche smiles and dips her head. Then, stepping into the room past me, she strolls on over to Louise's spot by the bed.

"Of course, my dear," the taller girl says as she places a hand on Louise's shoulder, her soft lips curling into a small smile.

Her highborn rival lets out a grunt of annoyance.

And an anxious twinge bubbles up in my stomach suddenly at her doing so. The last thing I want is to hear these two squabble so early in the damn morning.

To my surprise, however, Louise gives an approving nod. She still looks pretty irritated, though,

"...Fine, the two of you may go if you so wish," the dainty mage consents, moving back from Kirche a couple of paces and folding her arms. "I had intended to seek out Henrietta this morning anyway, to see if she requires my help with anything further while I am still here."

I raise a curious brow; honestly surprised Louise gave in as quickly as she did.

Best I double check everything's alright here.

"You sure? There's no double-speak here, right?"

My mistress gives me a second reassuring nod.

"None, it is fine, Michael: Honing your skills is for the best. Just be sure you take Toby and your glove with you, and do not push yourself too hard either," Louise responds with the slightest hint of sternness to her voice, unfolding her arms. "I won't have a repeat of what happened with Fouquet."

I let out a low chuckle as Louise finishes speaking.

"Got it, don't almost drop dead this time," I reply in an amused tone, causing Kirche to snicker softly while my master rolls her eyes.

"That wasn't funny, Michael," Louise grumbles, turning and walks toward the door: Her shoes clacking against the stone floor below with each step. Here, stopping in front of me and locking her eyes with mine, the pink-haired mage pouts gently.

A tense second or two passes as though she's going to say something.

However, Louise simply sighs and twirls around to stir Kirche down.

"And you, von Zerbst," she begins, her voice taking on a tone of warning. "If I find lipstick marks on Michael where they shouldn't be-"

"...You'll do what, hmm? Explode me?" the Germanian retorts with a sly grin and a raised brow.

Louise, upon hearing Kirche's taunt, lets out a loud "Tch!" as her face reddens, and she storms out of the room with a flustered huff.

I crack a weak smile and shake my head.

"You get off on antagonizing her, don't you?" I ask Kirche in a dry tone whilst she comes to my side with a wiggle in her step.

"Only because she makes it so easy, darling," the buxom girl responds with a light chuckle, patting me on the shoulder with one of her smooth hands. "Now, shall we depart?"

I chuckle at Kirche's honesty. I then look back toward my bag of belongings, to the sleeping tome resting on top.

Nodding, I clap my hands shortly but sharply.

"Hey, Toby, time to go!"

"Mmhmmm..." the book groans softly, his front latch clicking as if in confirmation. "Ah, yes, good morning, young sir...! And you needn't worry about the Coordinator Glove, either. You left it between my index pages when we arrived."

With that, Toby rises into the air sideways and zips on over. Floating beside me, the book opens out its pages.

True to his word, the black silk glove waits there all of its glory.

"Thanks, Toby, I appreciate it," I say as he closes himself back up.

Kirche lets out a soft hum as she watches Toby float out of my room and into the corridor.

"Well now, isn't that something," she murmurs with an intrigued smile. "The book can fly, I see."

"Yeah, he can," I confirm as I slip the black glove onto my left hand, the soft, silken fabric cool against my skin. Then, breathing in and out, my magic courses through me like a powerful, rushing river. I follow up with a couple more cycles of breathing exercises. Just enough to draw on the energy flowing through my body.

"You are certainly getting used to the glove, I see," Kirche comments, impressed.

"Sure feels that way," I reply, dipping my head. "I'm in more in control of my abilities than when I first got here, for sure." I open out my hand and gaze into my gloved palm. Embers crackle through my fingertips for a quick second as I do. "Though I've still got a long way to go."

Kirche gives me an approving nod and offers me a hand, smiling alluringly.

"Shall we head to the courtyard again, near the hedge maze?"

I offer a thumbs up and take the redhead's hand into mine.

"Sure. Let's go."

Kirche leads the way down the halls of the palace, her hips swaying from side to side as we go.

"Hmmm, someone is far less... apprehensive toward my affections now, I see," the buxom redhead comments as she tightens her grip with a playful smirk, her tone of voice almost teasing.

I smile and let out a soft chuckle.

"Girl, remind me who said I should stop fighting Halkeginia's ways yesterday."

Kirche, her smile widening, giggles softly.

"That would be me, yes," she responds in a low, heated tone as we pass by two patrolling knights in armour. "Although, I wonder... does this mean I shall have you all to myself one night soon...?"

I roll my eyes, though I can't help but crack a small smile at her persistence. "Don't push your luck, Kirche, I've already got enough to deal with as it is."

We step out onto the palace's large front steps and I sigh in relief as a cool breeze washes over me.

Kirche lets out a low hum, then releases my hand as she looks out over the courtyard below.

"The hedge maze," she says softly, pointing down at the green labyrinth of greenery off to our left.

"Sounds good," I tell the redhead, taking her hand back into mine. We then begin down the steps together.


Louise bows before Henrietta's throne on hand and knee and lowers her head.

"Good morning, Princess, I was wondering if you need me at all today," the pink-haired mage explains with a formal tone - on account of Miranda perching a short way from her dearest friend. "Michael is busy honing his magic with von Zerbst, you see, and so I came to see you."

Henrietta, sitting on her throne, smiles and clasps her hands together for but a moment, releasing them thereafter.

"I do indeed, Louise. It would please me greatly if you would attend to me for the day, as my friend."

The young royal extends her hand to the girl and her expression only brightens.

"And please, you may cease being so formal," Henrietta adds, earning something of a sharp, displeased clearing of the throat from Miranda.

Louise looks up at Henrietta with a small smile and takes her hand.

"Thank you, Princess," the girl replies after standing and straightening out her skirt. "But I'm afraid doing as such doesn't feel right, no matter how many times you ask."

Chuckling and waving off Louise's concern with a light shake of her head, Henrietta stands from her seat of power and descends its few small steps.

"As you wish, Louise, I understand. In that case, if it is agreeable to you, I'd like for us to have tea together in my chambers," Henrietta asks her with an ever-soft smile, her blue eyes glinting affectionately. "Miranda, have the royal attendants set the table."

Miranda gives her charge a low bow and an "as you command, Highness," then turns around and steps out of the throne room as instructed.

A visible weight lifting from her shoulders, Henrietta lets out a sigh and rubs at her forehead for a moment: Then she reaches up and removes her tiara.

Her one remaining attendant in the room - the dainty pigtailed girl whom Louise sees is Elisa - quickly moves to the Princess' side to collect it from her. The maid regards Louise with a polite bow of the head afterwards. A gesture Louise returns.

Then pink-haired girl looks at her best friend - Tristain's future queen - and raises a concerned brow.

"Something weighs heavily on your heart, doesn't it, Henrietta...?" she wonders.

Her warmth falling away as the weight of Louise's words wash over her, Henrietta nods.

"And so you noticed... I fear I've been in a state of turmoil since last night, yes."

Louise smiles and offers Henrietta an open hand to grasp.

"You always talk over tea when something bothers you, Highness, you have since we were small."

The Princess of Tristain takes hold of her dear friend's hand. A small, but no less affectionate smile curves her lips upward and her eyes glint with joy.

"You know me well, Louise."

Louise smiles for Henrietta tenderly. Then she glances over to Elisa and regards her with a soft expression.

"And how do you fare, Elisa? It is good to know Her Highness is still in your kind, attentive hands."

The pigtailed maid flinches and freezes on the spot for a moment before letting out a sharp yelp and dropping to a hand and knee for Louise.

"P-Pardon m-me, Mistress Louise! I'm very well, thank you...!"

Chuckling, Henrietta places her hand on Elisa's head.

"Please, you need not fret, Elisa," the royal princess assures in a soft, reassuring voice. "There is no need to prostrate yourself like that. You have been beside me for as long as Louise and I have known each other, after all."

Henrietta steps forward with her pink-haired companion at her side as the petite maid scrambles up to her feet, a soft blush on the girl's cheeks as she nods for her liege.

"U-Understood, Princess, thank you..."

Smiling, the royal glances up at Louise.

"Shall we be on our way?"

Louise smiles, bows, and presents her dearest friend an equally as affectionate gaze.

"At your leisure, Henrietta."


Me and Kirche have trained for hours and we even stopped for some afternoon tea in between.

Now, I need a little break. I'm worn out...

So, groaning gently, I extinguish the embers in my gloved hand and fall against the palace's front steps. Here, Toby drops into my lap. I then take my iPod from my trouser pocket and clutching it with my other hand, push out a wheezy exhale.

"Goodness..." Kirche comments whilst dropping down at my side, a thin sheen of sweat misting her gorgeous light brown face. Shuffling up close, she gives me a gentle, loving smile. "I had no idea your magical aptitude was that high, darling," the taller girl admits in murmur. "Not only have you improved in such a short amount of time, you are even a good deal more powerful now than during our fight with Fouquet, I can feel it."

I push out a limp chuckle. Kirche then lays her head against my shoulder and leans her weight into me. Partially because I'm tired and partially because I like her closeness, I don't protest. I just shrug slightly.

"Still hurts if I push too far, though, even with Toby and the glove," I confess with a huff.

The Germanian girl chuckles softly, the sound of it honestly soothing in my current state of near-exhaustion.

"Which is why I would advise you stop shortly, before you collapse and become bed-bound again."

"Can't disagree," I concede with a wheezy outward breath. "I feel like I'm about to drop here..."

"Then we'll rest for a while, like this, and you can hold me if you'd like..." Kirche suggests in a low, sultry voice that leaves me with no room for complaint. "It's fine, darling."

"Dammit, girl, you're persistent..." I chuckle softly. "...But, all right, you win. I could use a minute anyway."

The tall buxom woman at my side grins softly and shuffles into me a touch closer. I slip my arm around her slim, curvy waist, my gloved fingers pressing up against the bare skin of her stomach, and give her a gentle, comforting squeeze.

She shuffles her weight again, causing her to push out a pleased little "mmmmm" from the back of her throat.

"Truly, I appreciate the affection," Kirche tells me as a soft wind blows over us both, a feeling of comfort washing over me as a result of the breeze's gentle touch. "Being held by you like this... Well, it is honestly better than more intimate exploits."

My eyes widen a touch at her blunt, sensual honesty.

Turning in the redhead's girl's direction, I find her gazing at me with a small smile and flushed cheeks. "...That surprises you...?" she asks.

"After Halfway House, yeah," I reply, bringing my arm from Kirche's waist touching my gloved hand up to her face. Cupping the redhead's cheek, I tilt her chin up and brush her bangs from her face. A sudden rush of romantic warmth flares my chest as our eyes lock together.

"Aww, is it a crime for a woman to act upon her desires, my dear?" Kirche teases, leaning forward. Here, she brings our foreheads together and presses her large chest to mine.

I can only swallow, Kirche's closeness almost intoxicating.

"Dearie me... Cat got your tongue...?" the Germanian purrs.

I force a small, defiant frown. The only resistance I can muster.

"You just don't quit, do you?" I reply as my hand drops from her face. The buxom girl placing her palm against mine and returns it to her cheek, though.

Kirche's smile widens and her eyes half-close, a sly look forming on her face as her free hand wanders across to the iPod in my other hand. Taking the device into her palm, it still being attached to the pair of earphones threaded through my shirt, the girl taps the side of its touchscreen display with one of her perfectly manicured fingernails.

"No, I don't, just as you haven't left this strange trinket alone all day," she remarks.

My gaze softens and I can't help but offer the Germanian an awkward chuckle. "Heh, caught red-handed..."

Kirche giggles and, her eyes fixating upon the screen. A soft "Oho~?" passes her soft pink lips as her index finger taps the screen. "...This is some sort of music box, no?"

"Figured that out, did you?" I tease her softly in return, earning a slight huff as I offer Kirche one of my earphones.

Kirche takes the tiny earbud and places it into her right ear.

"Hmm, yes, I did," the Germanian woman hums with a teasing smirk. "I heard sounds coming from those black strings, the ones threaded through your shirt, darling," she adds, then glances back up at me with an amused look about her. "Might we listen to a ballad together?"

I smirk at that and raise a brow.

"A ballad? You want to hear my world's music?"

She nods and nudges into my side with a look of growing affection, her beautiful golden-brown eyes seeming to glisten a touch in the Tristainian afternoon sun.

"Indeed."

I offer Kirche a small bow of my as she slips her hand from mine. Her eyes fix on the iPod's small touchscreen.

"Let me see then..." I murmur while flicking through the list of songs stored on my device. "All right, being real with you, I'm not really into string music and pianos."

I pause for a moment, a flash of my past coming to life in my mind as I glance down at my device with eyes a million miles away: A bittersweet fragment of childhood.

Mum and I sit together in front of a grand piano. It's late at night. We're aboard the cruise ship she and Dad worked on, in the main lounge. The two of us are about to play for the few passengers who haven't yet gone to bed: Namely a handful of couples leaned by the bar cocktail bar.

She wears a lovely black cocktail dress and her wavy golden hair pools down her back like ribbons. As for me, I'm wearing a pressed white shirt and trousers with polished formal shoes. I'm smooth-faced, gentler, less jaded, and not much older than thirteen.

Dad, perched by the bar with a highball glass half full with rum and cola, raises his drink and lets out a small cheer for us.

Mum chuckles at his typsy antics. Then she turns smiles at me.

I still recall the smile, her smile, as bright as morning sunshine.

Next, she asks me the all-important question:

"Are we ready to start, Mikey...?"

And, as ever, I give her a thumbs up and-

No, no, best I forget about this. Recalling it still stings even today.

So, forcing a weak smile, I shake my head clear of the memory. I then look from the device to Kirche.

As if sensing something is wrong, the Germanian's expression softens.

"Is everything all right, darling...?"

I give a short, stiff nod.

That part of my life faded after cancer took Mum from us. Sure, a part of me wishes I could go back. It hurts too much though.

"Yep, it's all good," I assure the buxom redhead.

And yet, sitting here, disarmed by Kirche, a part of me feels safe opening up.

"Well... Actually, what I said about pianos... That wasn't entirely true, I mean, I used to play, but that was a long time ago," I explain in a somewhat soft voice, my fingers tracing against the back of Kirche's left hand as the two of us sit on the palace's front steps together.

She glances up from the device and raises a curious brow, her eyes gentle and almost inquisitive. "Really...? Is that so, Michael?"

"Sure is," I confirm with a small, somewhat painful smile. The hand holding my iPod begins tremble as I continue, "I'd stopped by about eighteen, though, so about a little over six years back. I haven't touched one since then."

From there, my other hobbies all amped up. Video games, cinema, and personal fitness became my main concerns. The piano slowly but surely disappeared from my life, and my outlook on life became just that little bit bleaker for it, I feel. Still, my love for many kinds of music never left me. Hence the iPod.

It was my form of escapism when too busy to watch a movie, stream on YouTube, or visit the gym.

Now, it's more of a connection to the world I can never return to. An anchor, even.

Anyway, I'd better get out of my head with this shit.

"...So, you want to listen to some music from my world, right?"

Kirche nods in affirmation, her fingers gently brushing against my own.

I can't help but swallow and then take in a short breath as the redhead smiles. "Indeed, I would like that very much."

I give Kirche a small smile back, though I can't help wondering how she'll react.

"...You know, it won't be anything like what you're used to, so I don't know how much you'll like it."

The tanned woman chuckles, her fingers brushing over my own in an affectionate, playful way.

"Simply choose something that you like, Michael, dear," she responds to my concerns in a kind, gentle tone.

My fingers skim across the screen of the iPod as I scroll through its selection of songs. I feel the slightest touch of warmth as my cheeks heat up, partly out of anxiousness and excitement.

"All right then, let's do this," I breathe with a faint chuckle. Then I flick over to the rock section of my collection, stopping as my index finger pauses above my Synthrock playlist. "Okay, we'll try this one first. It's by an artist called 'Meteor' and the song's name's 'Destroyer'."

Kirche's eyes widen a bit at the song's title.

"...Destroyer, hmm? Very well, play it."

With that, I place the other earphone into my ear and hit the play button on the small screen, and as the first electronic beat begins rising, a slight smirk pulls at my lips.

I can feel a pleasant heat growing inside me and, before long, my body tingles from head to toe, as if a cool breeze had passed through my very soul.

Then, as the electric guitars kick in, Kirche's eyes widen even further. Her body shivers ever so slightly, causing her ample chest to quiver.

I look her over with an inquisitive flare and see a strange mixture of awe, excitement, and confusion upon the redhead's beautiful face.

"That's an electric guitar," I explain, then chuckle, amused by her reaction.

"An... electric... guitar...?" Kirche repeats the phrase as though the words sound alien to her.

I nod in confirmation.

"Yep, that's right."

Kirche tilts her head as her expression shifts into something curious. "Hmm... it sounds... pleasing," the redhead decides with an approving smile and a little hum.

The buxom, busty redhead then closes her eyes for a moment as she listens to the music.

I can tell she's enjoying it.

"If you really do like this kind of stuff, I've plenty more," I tell her with a hint of playfulness as my lips curl into a grin. "Synthwave, electronic tracks, guitars and rock music, they're my jams."

Kirche giggles and presses into my chest again and I let out a gentle laugh.

Then, with the song finishing, the redhead takes out the earphone and hums as if pondering. "I found it a refreshing change, Michael," she remarks in a soft, thoughtful voice. "But what I liked the most about it, I think, was how much it felt like you..."

Okay, I was not expecting that at all. Her liking the song or comparing to me somehow

"Humour me, lass," I encourage with a gentle chuckle. "How's that then?"

Kirche stands from the steps and offers me her hands. I take them. Toby then rises from my lap and I climb to my feet with the Germanian's help.

I gaze into her eyes, the afternoon sun seeming to glisten within them. The girl winks at me and raises my gloved left hand to her cheek

"The song, it is so very full of energy, intense and powerful, just as you were when we fought Fouquet together," she tells me as her other hand grips my right arm. "But, more than anything else, it's like your inner spirit. I felt something stir in my heart and soul as I listened."

I let out a soft laugh and offer the redhead a gentle nod, her fingers gently gripping my arm, and mine holding both of hers in return after I slip the iPod away. "Heh, thanks, I guess. And speaking of Fouquet, you might not have noticed, but I had my music playing when we all fought that golem."

Kirche hums alluringly. "Is that right?"

"Sure is," I reply. Looking out to the hedge maze ahead, I stretch out my arms and roll my head, then turn back to the lovely Germanian. "One more quick round of training, then we'll call it a day, yeah?"

Kirche smiles back at me, then looks me up and down slowly. "It would be my pleasure," she murmurs, taking my hands once again into her own and squeezing them gently. "And thank you for your most invigorating music, Mister DeSliva..."

The busty girl leans in close and kisses me softly, her lips brushing over my cheek before pulling back and whispering in a voice barely louder than a whisper:

"...I am quite in your debt."


Henrietta smiles sadly while she and Louise take tea in her chambers. Ever diligent, Elisa waits beside the pair with arms folded behind her back.

"And now you know why my heart is heavy, Louise Françoise. With Albion's royal family all but defeated, nought save my marriage to Wales will prevent war..."

Exhaling deeply, the princess gazes at the blue gemstone ring on her finger: The Ruby of Water, an heirloom gifted to her by Queen Marianne some years prior. Its silver body glitters in the evening sunlight that floods in through the royal's bedroom's high windows.

"I just cannot stand the idea of all that bloodshed..." Henrietta mutters with a soft voice that wavers in volume. "But alas, I still do not know where Wales is, or where I might find him."

"Your Majesty... if I may, perhaps Lord Wardes might have a way of finding him?" Elisa offers, causing Henrietta to look over at her. "He is a man of status and vast influence, after all."

Out of the corner of her eye, Henrietta notices Louise visibly wince at the mention of her fiancé. The princess' brows furrow and a soft "Mmmm," passes her lips. She then drums her fingers lightly upon the tabletop whilst pondering her faithful maid's suggestion.

"Indeed, I suppose he is..."

Henrietta looks between the ring on her finger, its blue stone shimmering as though attuned to her, and then Louise, who wears a dour look. She repeats this cycle a couple of times more and then shifts her gaze to the pigtailed servant.

"...We shall hold off on enlisting his help for now, I think," the royal decides with a short, firm nod.

Elisa gives a quick but no less humble bow of her head.

"Yes, Your Highness," the girl utters in agreement. "Of course, my apologies if my offer seemed... rash, my lady..."

Henrietta offers the girl a weak smile and raises her free hand reassuringly.

"You're fine, Elisa. Do not be so concerned," the royal answers before returning her attention to Louise. Her pink-haired friend now stares intently at the cup in her grasp.

"...I'm sure we can find him without Lord Wardes," Henrietta remarks, trying her best to sound more upbeat. "This way, you and Michael needn't worry about any undue stress."

"Indeed..." the princess' companion utters in return, gazing out the toward the window absently. Her eyes linger there for a couple of moments. And a couple more. She then looks back and sips from her tea before adding a quiet: "I appreciate that very much..."

A few seconds pass and a long, deep breath fills Henrietta's lungs as the young royal mulls over her beloved friend's plight. As she does, her heart thuds softly in her chest.

"I've asked myself a few times..." Henrietta finally whispers as her gaze meets Louise's once again, a quiet sigh escaping the young noble, her pink eyes glistening. "...How I might do more to help you, Louise. Especially after seeing you dedicate yourself to me so earnestly."

Her words earn her a slightly quizzical glance from her companion, and Louise sets down her tea.

"...Princess?"

A soft smile creeps across Henrietta's face.

"You needn't play coy in light of Elisa being here, Louise Françoise. As women, none of us are strangers to love, I am sure."

A blush spreads across Louise's face, and she blinks, as though trying to shake off the question. "H-Henrietta...!" the pinkette sputters in reply, and Henrietta's smile only widens in the face of such an outburst, a knowing chuckle escaping the royal's lips.

"Her familiar is so special to her that she cannot imagine herself being without him..." the princess reveals to Elisa in a quiet voice, before placing her tea down on the table and clutching Louise's now trembling hands.

Her maid, blushing deeply at this news, brings one of her own hands to her cheek and stares wide-eyed at the young women sitting before her. Louise's face is now flushed scarlet red with embarrassment.

"O-Oh, I had no idea Mistress Louise was..."

"H-Henrietta...!" Louise whines, looking from Henrietta to the maid with wide, imploring eyes, a mixture of panic and anger flitting through the young woman's gaze. She looks between her childhood friend, to the maid, and back again. "Stop that, please...!"

"Now now, Louise, you needn't be so bashful," Henrietta teases.

Having perhaps a little bit too much fun, she glances up at Elisa and the young girl flinches.

"What of you, Elisa?" the royal inquires with a sly little smirk on her face, "is there someone you care for?"

The young maid gasps softly at this, and her entire body shakes for a brief instant as if caught red-handed in the act of some foul crime. Then she quickly lowers her head.

"I...I... I'm... I..." she stammers out in reply. "...No... I mean..."

As she speaks, however, a strange feeling fills Henrietta's chest and, before long, tears begin forming in the corners of her eyes.

Joy. Love. Fear. Stress. Anxiousness. All of the emotions she keeps tightly in check because of her duty as a ruler-in-waiting. A role that she both cherishes and quietly, in the deepest and most secret part of her heart, wishes she could step away from.

Alas, Tristain's princess stands from the table and, letting go of Louise's hands, the young royal turns to Elisa with a warm smile on her face as the tears flow freely down her cheeks.

And, bewildered by such a powerful sight, both of the other girls in the room fall silent.

"...Forgive me... both of you," Henrietta finally utters, looking between both Louise and Elisa before continuing: "I am simply... overwhelmed in light of carrying such heavy burdens as I do. It is only around the two of you that I can be myself: That I can step away from the weight of leadership."

Louise, rising from her seat, opens her mouth to reply. "I... I understand..." she says in a low tone, only for the pinkette's voice to trail off when her friend shakes her head and gives a weak shake of her own.

"I thank you, dear friends," the future queen responds, looking between Louise and Elisa. "And no matter what I face, I know I can trust the two of you to always remain at my side."

Henrietta's words cause Elisa to tremble a bit.

"...Thank you, Your Highness," the white-haired girl replies softly after a long pause, bowing low to the ground with a hand to her chest. "It is my greatest honour."

"As is it mine."

Louise speaks softly, as well, her expression earnest.

"...You may rely on me for anything, Henrietta. I'll not hesitate to help, and Michael, too," the Valliere vows with a hand pressed to her chest and eyes glinting with the utmost determination. "Even if he is, well, Michael."

The remark earns her a chuckle and a soft shake of the head from Henrietta.

"I appreciate your kindness, Louise, truly."

Taking in a long, deep breath, the young princess returns to her seat, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she sits.

"That aside, I have yet another favour to ask of the both of you," the royal begins, glancing from Louise to Elisa before continuing. "I'd like for the three of us to spend time together like this again before my wedding to Prince Wales, so I might enjoy myself."

"Of course, Your Majesty."

"Certainly."

Louise and Elisa's responses come simultaneously, each girl smiling back at the princess as they answer in unison.

However, Henrietta notices the smallest hint of unease colouring Elisa's features, and her heart aches as it often does for the maid. Despite such a jovial suggestion, the girl - small of stature but strong of heart - still grapples with her father's disappearance.

The princess offers a gentle bow of her head.

"I do not wish to make you uncomfortable, Elisa," Henrietta reassures the girl, who trembles at the sound of her name. "So, please, if you are struggling at all then feel free to speak your mind."

"Y-Your Majesty..."

The young maid's words falter, and her expression grows conflicted.

"I...I...I just..."

A brief moment passes before she looks up at Louise and Henrietta with a tearful look, her lower lip quivering.

"M-Might I be briefly excused please, Your Highness?"

Henrietta offers a nod and motions with her hand.

"Of course, dear. Take whatever time you need."

"Thank you, My Princess."

Bowing low once more, the white-haired girl turns and heads for the door to the bedroom.

The minute the door closes behind her, Henrietta glances toward Louise, who frowns a little.

"...I do hope she is all right," the pinkette mutters softly.

"As do I..." the princess concurs with a sigh, slowly sipping from her cup of tea.

For a brief moment, Henrietta gazes absently down at the contents of the tea.

And in the quiet space between them, Louise turns her face away, deep in thought herself.

Finally, with the warmth of a comforting drink washing over her senses, Henrietta exhales contentedly and brings herself to smile with as much warmth as she can muster. Then, her attention returning to her companion, the young woman raises the cup and takes another sip before looking back at Louise.

"Say, Louise..."

"Yes?"

The pinkette pauses for a moment after whispering her reply, and Henrietta's smile widens.

"Do you remember when you and I were little, and how you stayed here at the palace with me on festival weekends?"

"Oh yes, I remember those days fondly..." Louise replies with a sweet, innocent chuckle.

At this, Henrietta's lips pull into a happier smile, her mind drifting back to a simpler time.

"And the mischief we caused in the kitchens during the harvest festival that one spring," the princess recalls with a warm, heartfelt chuckle.

"Please don't remind me of that one..." Louise answers with an embarrassed laugh, and a frown, before continuing more confidently. "Your mother was most cross with you for asking the bakers to bake a cake shaped like a unicorn," she continues with a giggle before turning to gaze wistfully toward the nearby window.

It isn't long before her demenour darkens ever so slightly, her mind seeming to drift a thousand leagues away.

"By the Goddess, I miss those days, Henrietta."

Louise then turns back, eyeing the young royal with a thoughtful gaze.

"Being the heir to all of Tristain must be exhausting for you..."

And those words - so painfully honest, as only a childhood companion might dare utter - earn a long, sad sigh and a solemn nod from the future queen.

"It is..." the girl whispers back softly, setting her cup of tea aside as the warmth of a painful memory burns itself into her heart. "I often find myself wishing that I was like you, Louise," the future queen then adds in a trembling voice, taking in a short breath as she lifts her gaze.

Louise, her eyes shooting wide with surprise, gasps softly. Her cheeks burn bright red, too. "H-Henrietta... You can't mean it, surely. Y-You know I'm..." Pausing, the pink-haired girl bows her head and forces out a stiff, shameful sigh. "...I'm useless."

Displeased by her nearest and dearest friend's low opinions of herself, Henrietta puffs out her chest and adorns a stern, almost matriarchal look.

"...Louise Françoise...!" the young royal chides in a motherly tone, before reaching to grasp her best friend's hands in her own. "You are not useless, not at all."

Yet again this day, Henrietta takes a steadying breath before delivering the words burning within her heart, her eyes gazing deeply into Louise's own with surety and strength.

"You have remained at my side through the most arduous of times, almost as though a sister: I could ask for no better companion," she tells Louise sincerely, before tilting her head with a bemused smile. "And, whatever the strange magic you used against Fouquet was, I am sure you will find ways to tap into it again, given time."

Those reassurances cause Louise to stare back in speechless shock, her cheeks flushing crimson.

"T-Thank you, Henrietta," the pinkette eventually replies, squeezing her childhood friend's hands comfortingly.

"But of course, my dear Louise," the heir to Tristain responds softly, smiling back into her childhood friend's eyes before rising up and adding: "And, returning to talk of our childhood, I am wondering something."

Louise raises a curious brow.

"Yes?"

"If you would like to stay here with me for the rest of the day, I'll not object," Henrietta offers, with a tender gaze and a kind, genuine smile. "We both have so very few chances to relax in one another's company these days."

"I... would be delighted to, my lady," Louise replies, bowing after a brief moment of deliberation. "If you are fine with it."

"Most assuredly."


The hour of midnight draws near and the time of the dreaded deed grows close at hand: The dreadful sin Elisa must commit to free her father from Felix's clutches.

Having just taken a bath and dried herself, the petite, pigtailed girl stands before the mirror in her chambers as bare as the day she entered this world.

In and out she breathes, deeply but shakily, her budding breasts heaving as she exhales and her shoulders trembling as she inhales.

"Father... Father... I..." she whimpers, closing her eyes and covering her face with her palms as her knees grow weak, threatening to give way.

Thoughts of her parent, so noble and caring, swirl about her mind, causing her heart to ache.

What will happen to him if I fail? she asks herself, her breathing becoming more rapid as the thought lingers.

Her throat tightens, and her whole body shudders with fear.

"...I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, Henrietta... Forgive me...!"

The pain of this fate is so great that even her pleas are as soft as a whisper.

But then, something changes.

The air grows colder and a chill runs down her spine.

And with it, an icy pang of fear penetrates the maid's fragile heart.

"He's here..."

Elisa's voice comes as a hushed whisper, her eyes snapping open as the realization hits her.

She's certain of it.

Felix has arrived.

Slowly, the maid forces herself to stand up straight, her breathing slow and steady as she collects herself.

Then, with a final, deep breath, she pushes her fears aside, reaches for the frilly white nightrobe hanging upon the wall, and slips it over her shoulders.

"Not having second thoughts are we, girl?"

Elisa's eyes widen as she spins to face the intruder, her heart leaping into her throat.

Standing there in the doorway is Felix, his dark cloak billowing about his form like some sort of spectre.

Atop his head is a thin, black hood, cast partially over his eyes to hide them from view, while across his face lies a pale, porcelain ballroom mask: The same mask that makes Elisa shudder fearfully whenever she looks upon it.

"...I find I have changed my mind on something this night," Felix utters in his cold and uncaring tone, a sinister smirk curling the corners of his lips upwards. "Should you fail in your mission to apprehend the princess tonight, I'll not kill you, or your father."

Elisa stares in stunned silence. "...Eh...?" the girl utters in response, her pulse quickening with her heart and her breath freezing in her chest.

Felix takes a couple of small, measured steps nearer, folding his arms behind her back. Elisa, as frightened as ever by his imposing presence, recoils with a nervous squeak.

"...After having seen all that you are before the mirror," the cloaked man continues, casting a sharp index toward the ornate silver mirror in front of which Elisa stood moments before, "I have found that a different punishment will be far more fitting..."

The maid, too stunned and bewildered for words, finds herself trembling.

But, after a couple of seconds, courage wells up within her breast, and she grits her teeth against her fear.

"...W-What do you mean?" she demands in return, her brows furrowing and her expression growing intense and firm. "Answer me!"

Yet, no matter how much force the maid musters in her voice, the agent before her pays little mind, with only a chuckle escaping the hooded man's lips.

"Do not purport to threaten me, Elisa, you are but a tiny, insignificant peasant," Felix breathes out in reply to the young maid's inquiry. "Though I will grant you the privilege of an answer since you asked."

The maid, her stomach twisting and her insides burning with indignation, lowers her head and clenches her fists with a scowl.

Felix steps nearer.

Nearer. Nearer still.

And with his every step, the fragile, white-haired maid backs away one step. Until, by the time Felix finishes, Elisa's back is flat up against the chamber's wall and she has nowhere else to flee.

It is here that Felix reaches out, and places both of his gloved hands upon Elisa's dainty shoulders. As he does, the young lady squeals out of utter fear for her life.

"...Should you fail, I will have you thrown to a band of pent-up skyship sailors, I think," Felix muses, gripping the maid's shoulder tightly. "Oh yes... Their desires and lusts shall be your sole reason for existence. That is until they become tired and cast you into the gutter with a swollen belly."

Elisa's blood turns cold.

"You... You can't...!" the girl replies, shivering as she speaks. "Men like that would... would...!"

Felix gives a single chuckle in the girl's direction, his grip on her growing harsher.

"Tear away your innocence as though shredding a fragile cut of silk, I know..."

Tears mist Elisa's vision as she swallows painfully. Felix's heavy, wicked presence continues to weigh down on her, dominating her very mind, body, and soul.

"Now, leave this room and fulfil your part of our deal, Elisa," the hooded man orders, releasing the maid from his grasp and vanishing on the wind in but the blink of blink of an eye.

For a brief moment, after a light gust of wind washes across the maid, all seems well.

And then, as swiftly as Felix arrived, the events of the last couple of minutes catch up with Elisa, and she falls to her knees with a choked sob.

"...There is no way out..."

Lowering her head, she closes her eyes and allows tears to fall down her fair cheeks, her entire body racked with grief.


Louise lowers deeper into the steaming waters of the wide, opulently designed bath graciously provided within her chambers. Exhaling deeply, she relishes the warmth and relaxation as they wash over her slender form, letting all her cares and anxieties disappear with steam. Her long pink hair lays loose around her shoulders, its locks cascading across the bath water like glistening, flowing ribbons.

Beside her, Michael sits with his eyes closed, sighing. For a long time, neither of the couple moves as they bask in the tranquil, intimate warmth of the tub.

That is until Louise is struck by a sudden urge to make conversation.

"How was your magic training with Kirche?" asks the pinkette, opening an eye and raising a brow. "The two of you seemed rather close when you returned earlier..."

Michael smirks and exhales gently.

"...That's a colourful undertone you've got there, Louise," the blonde remarks with a chuckle, a hint of playfulness colouring his voice. "You said I could go with her, so I did."

Louise rolls her eyes and then throws a playful splash of water at her lover's face in retaliation, yet the familiar seems largely unfazed by it.

"A good familiar wouldn't tease his mistress as you do, idiot," the petite noble whispers back with a small frown.

"A good mistress should have faith in her loyal servant then."

A short silence passes, and Louise casts a glance at Michael as his foolish little smirk widens.

Then, sighing, Louise raises a hand from the water and presses her finger to the tip of her blonde companion's nose with playful intent. Then, she sighs deeply and shakes her head.

"A good familiar would have politely refused Kirche's invitation..."

Michael chuckles at her reply, sitting the slightest bit more upright in the bath.

"Worried, are we...? You can check my dick for lipstick marks if you like."

"Truly you can be such a stupid, vulgar, annoying commoner at times!" Louise fires back, although, despite her outburst, an involuntary little giggle sneaks past her lips.

She smothers it down quickly.

Michael, however, only laughs.

"Relax, Princess, you're the only one who's had her hands on me that way since Halfway House," he assures her, his smirk turning somewhat teasing before closing his eyes again. "I introduced her to the iPod while we practised, and we shared a little kiss, that's it."

At this, Louise raises one hand to her chest. She frowns for but a moment, and then decides to let her the small twinge of frustration at her core fizzle out.

"...Alright, that is... Well, I can accept that," the pinkette murmurs after a moment's contemplation, clearing her throat. Her cheeks then light up just the slightest bit more. "I'm willing to trust you."

Silence briefly falls as Louise gently leans back against her familiar's chest and allows her head to rest against his neck. His mere presence relaxes her, eases her tension, and fizzles her woes away.

"How were things with Henrietta?" asks Michael, glancing down at the woman leaning her head against his shoulder. "Not too bad, I figure, given you only got back an hour ago."

She nods with an agreeing sigh. "We had a wonderful time..." begins the pink-haired noble with a slight smile, her heart beating fondly." And I must say, talking like we did, almost all day, was overdue."

"I'll bet, given she's the princess and all," her blonde companion responds.

Louise hums softly in reply, her lashes lowering. Her gaze drifts downward into the bath's warm waters. She finds herself absently toying with the ends of her hair with her free hand, her fingers curling around its glistening pink strands.

"...All in all, I would say this has been a fruitful trip," the dainty mage decides.

Michael chuckles. Then, turning his head slightly, presses a light kiss to Louise's cheek.

"...That include Halfway House, hmm?"

A little surprised, the pinkette stiffens, but only momentarily. She then flushes bright red.

"...No."

Another laugh answers her denial, and Louise finds her heart rate quickening with anxious anticipation.

"...Easy there, Princess," Michael whispers, raising his left hand from the bath's warm waters and gently stroking the back of her head. "If you, say, lay a smooch or two on Siesta once we're home, I won't go holding it against you or anything."

The delicate aristocrat suppresses a small sputter at the very notion. Then, feeling silly for being drawn into more of Michael's teasing, she pouts.

"...Siesta is there for your satisfaction above all else, you dummy," the pink-haired mage argues back in a dry and matter-of-fact tone. More to mask her shyness than anything. "You know that."

Michael pauses, then shrugs.

"Kirche's right, teasing you is way too easy," he follows with a chuckle.

Feeling the familiar could do to ease back on his antics, Louise lets out a low, exasperated huff.

And, realizing the line he has crossed, Michael brings an arm around Louise's slender middle and pulls her to him a little more snugly. It's a tender, affectionate gesture, and the kind of Louise deeply enjoys.

"...It's best I just shut up and give you another kiss, isn't it?" the familiar poses knowingly, his smug, teasing expression not so much as diminishing a fraction.

Louise looks up at him and smiles with wicked, evil intent.

"...If you would prefer I don't bring out my riding whip one of these days, then yes..."

Michael lets out a small, nervous laugh.

"You, girl, are terrifying. Gorgeous... but a little terrifying."

Shyly, Louise averts her gaze, her lips settling into another gentle little pout.

"J-Just shut up and satisfy me already, you fool...!" the noblewoman demands with a flustered gasp.

With a smirk, the blonde mage pulls his pink-haired companion closer to him, laying a soft, teasing kiss upon her neck. This suave act earns a small, shuddering gasp from her rose-coloured lips.

"...Can do, Louise," the otherwordly familiar utters with heat.


Elisa checks the hall is empty of observers.

Finding naught but a barren hallway, she brings out the vial of Sunno Mushroom elixir and dabs a couple of drops into Miranda's tea.

Then, breathing outward anxiously, she corks the vial and slips it back into her apron's pocket.

There is... no going back for her. Not now.

"You can do this, Elisa... you must."

Breathing in and out several times to steady herself, the girl picks up the serving platter upon which Miranda's tea rests.

Another breath follows. In and out. A second, and a third.

Then, once the jitters calm and her breathing steadies, the pigtailed servant shoulders the door to the Royal Study and steps inside.

Miss Miranda sits at a large desk strewn with messy parchment papers. Eyes held by writing, she scribbles hastily with quil and ink.

"Your evening tea, Miss Miranda," Elisa announces with a gentle dip of her head. She then offers up the lone porcelain cup and saucer, the two sitting neatly atop a polished silver platter, to Henrietta's advisor.

Miranda cracks the faintest hint of a smile and makes an elegant, dismissive wave with a single gloved hand.

"Set it over there please," the greying woman commands, gesturing briefly toward a second table littered with trinkets and tomes - her other, even messier writing desk in the royal study. "I'll take a sip once it has cooled."

"A-As you wish."

Obeying without delay, Elisa moves over to the cluttered work area of this silent, lonely abode.

The night air fills her lungs, rich and intoxicating with life and scents, and the stars in the distant sky glitter brilliantly. Each is a bitter contrast to the bleak, painful feelings swelling in her chest at this moment.

This is the darkest chapter of her young life: The moment of her deepest shame.

As Elisa sets the tray down, a melancholy sound slips past her trembling lips, as does a tear from her clenched eyes.

Silently, and with her back turned away from Miranda, the maid dries her eyes and collects her composure as best she is able with a soft, trembling breath.

"Will that be all, Miss Miranda?" the young maid then wonders, reaching into the folds of her nightgown and retrieving a velvet handkerchief. Then she delicately dabs at her eyes and puts the item away again.

That question pulls Miranda from her writings: She briefly glances up from a detailed map of northern Tristain that had garnered her complete attention.

"...Yes," the elder mage responds simply with a curious tilt of her head as she asks in return: "...Are you quite all right, child?"

Her brows furrowed, the mage rises to her feet, her gaze never once wavering from the young maid.

Elisa shivers as the caretaker draws closer, and the woman's attention fixates on the quiver of the girl's shoulders.

"You have seemed quite out of sorts as of late, Elisa. You have my word, if something is the matter, you may tell me," Miranda offers with a soft exhale, halting only when close enough to discreetly pat the girl's shoulder. "Despite what our mistress might sometimes say, I am not a dragon."

A sharp pain stabs into the young girl's heart, her chest wrenching in agony.

And through all of this, Elisa forces a smile.

"...I assure you, all is well, madam," the maid offers softly, stepping back and bowing.

Convinced, Miranda's concern subsides, and she offers a soft dip of her head in reply. Then, after clearing her throat, she motions Elisa toward the study door.

"Very well, you are dismissed, then. But please, be sure that you see Her Highness before heading to bed."

Elisa's heart shrinks further but she bows nonetheless.

"As you wish, I will do just that," the maid declares in a calm, controlled manner, forcing her internal unrest into the pit of her stomach as she speaks. "Please rest well, Miss Miranda."

Raising a gloved palm, the elder mage offers an understanding nod. She then returns to her reading with renewed vigourTo and a newfound glint in her eyes.

No more words pass between Miranda and Elisa. Only silence. It is as if a spell was cast.

To be continued...


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