Maria woke up in her bed, being held by another woman.

It was her mother.

For the moment, she simply enjoyed the feeling of her mother holding her, of the peace and comfort of–

No, it was summer, it was too damned hot!

Reluctantly, Maria extricated herself from her mother's arms, noting she had forgotten to open a window. She curbed her instinct to check for marks that still bled, but those instincts were struck on the head by the heat and the wooden floor under her feet. No, no, this was definitely not Cainhurst. Mother loved her. It was nothing like Cainhurst. Hesitantly, she kissed her mother's brow, taking in the scent that wasn't blood but just mother, and went downstairs to make breakfast.

If she were honest with herself, a little of Cainhurst's constant lake breeze would have been nice at the moment. Stupid summer heat!

When her mother woke up, however, Maria was there by her side to let her know none of it had been a dream.


This second childhood of being with her mother was strange to Maria. Bereft as she was of any good memories to base her behavior on from her previous life, the lady let the child take charge, and some of the things in the memory of the child was simply… inappropriate for two women their age! Bathing together would be too embarrassing, no matter how much it would feel good in this heat!

Fortunately, Rafael's presence helped. He was always polite and a perfect gentleman, and he seemed almost eager to ingratiate himself with her mother. Had she not seen his memories, Maria would have been disturbed and concerned. However, she knew that he was almost like her: having been deprived of a mother's love after having it so wonderfully, there as a void in his heart that had filled with vengeance. With that vengeance fulfilled, it was empty again, wanting to be filled anew.

"I think my mother likes you," Maria said when they'd had time together.

"Really?" Rafael said, brightening.

She tapped his forehead in gentle reproof. "Though try to control yourself. I don't need Dark Magic to see how eagerly you try to have your fill of her."

Rafael blushed, spluttering protests. Maria chuckled. "Hush. I'm not accusing you of anything."

"It sounded exactly like you were," he said.

"How nonsensical, former-Head Clerk," Maria said. "As if anyone could replace your mother."

A pained look crossed his face, and she laid a hand on his cheek. "Hush. None of that. Remember her last words: live and be happy. Only then will you truly have your vengeance for what that woman took from you. You will always have a mother. But you are also allowed a mother-in-law. That they are to hate you is a silly notion, born of silly fiction or willful malice. Rejoice, Rafael Walt. For the world is a wonderful place where you may have the love of two mothers, and need not eclipse one with the other."

Rafael froze. "Mother… in-law?"

"Truly, I am a shameless woman to tempt you with such base desires," Maria said. "Such presumption on my part, to foolishly assume that you would be tempted."

He swallowed. "Miss Campbell… are you trying to tempt me with the possibility of your mother being my mother-in-law?"

"I fear I have become as much a pimp as I once wrongly assumed Lady Claes of being," Maria said. "How can you stand to look at me?"

Rafael suddenly laughed. "Wait, did you actually think Lady Claes was a pimp?"

"Well, she did keep asking who among her retinue I found attractive, and I thought she was trying to seduce me," Maria said.

"As I understand it, a pimp gets a cut," Rafael said. "What do you get out of it?"

"I get to see someone love my mother as she deserves to be loved," Maria said.

She suddenly found herself in Rafael's arms as he held her tight. "How are you this wonderful?" he whispered into her ear.

"Complete amateurish ignorance," Maria said and meant it.

She would learn from Rafael about how one was supposed to love their mother, until she could figure out how to properly give her mother the love she deserved for the love Maria so selfishly wanted.

"You're always so humble. You have wonderful beginner's luck then," Rafael said, drawing back. He was smiling his wonderful smile. "I think you might be a natural at this. Possibly even a prodigy. So. Mother-in-law."

Maria felt her bloodtinge rising. "Yes."

"Presumably, that will involve… paperwork. That we'd have to do. Together."

Rising so much. "Yes."

"I'll look forward to it," Rafael whispered.

Then they went back to spend time with Maria's mother.


The blacksmith finished her commission.

He was a large man who looked like he could beat someone to death by clubbing them with his anvil, so muscular was he. This was right and properly blacksmith-y. He was versed in ways of metal, and while his grandfather or great grandfather had built the town's elevator's and lever-operated gates in the ancient style, he was the one who maintained them. His hammer was rumored to be infused with Titanite, which he had hunted himself from the rare Crystal Lizards that hid in the mountains.

He'd also never uttered a word against Maria or her mother. Recently, Maria figured it had something to do with his uncanny resemblance to one of Maria's classmates.

Maria looked at the finished product. She had not simply given him drawings and the down payment and left, of course. It was a thing he'd never built before, so she'd come by every day before seeing Rafael to check his progress. She had asked him to change one of the springs, for example, because the first two had been too hard.

What lay in front of her was… unwieldy for some hunters, herself included. A hollow tube of strong steel, smooth and internally even, without rifling– no time, no tools– with a simple lock that was intended as a matchlock but she could easily alter into a flintlock. It had a frizzen that covered the pan, meant to be moved aside by the lock no matter the configuration. It was by necessity a muzzleloader, as a simple system was less likely to fail. An primitive thing, it was based on memories of ancient weapons she remembered on display in Cainhurst and on simple weapons she had examined in the Hunter's Workshop. She'd also had a bullet mold made, which he was at it, to be sized to the barrel. It made simple lead bullets with a small cup at the bottom.

The smith and carpenter had already mounted it on the stock she had also commissioned. She picked it up, hefted it. It was slightly heavier for a weapon of its size, but then she had requested the firing chamber be thick, just in case. The only opening was the small firing hole, and even that made her wary.

"What's it for?" the blacksmith asked, looking quietly proud he had managed to build that mysterious thing in Maria's draft and puzzled that building it hadn't answered the question.

"It's a testing tool," Maria said. "For Alchemy."

"Alchemy, huh?" the smith said. "Guess you learned that at the Academy too."

"Mostly, we learn not to eat or drink anything even if it smells sweet. ESPECIALLY if it smells sweet," Maria said.

The smith nodded. "Sound advice."

"This is excellent work," Maria said, knowing it was the only complement that mattered. "Very fine tolerances. Impressive."

There was a small smile, of a professional whose work on the fiddly bits had been recognized.

"I might have a more complicated design in future, if you are willing," Maria said.

"I'll take a look at it," the smith said, but the glint in his eye was that of a hunter scenting prey.

"A good day to you sir," Maria said, and took her new weapon home.

On the way home, she bought some rough clay pots, cheap but thick, and ignored the potter's look and whispers. Her mother loved her. Great Ones and Old One and Ancient Demons and Gods take everything else.


That night, a sound like a tree trunk snapping in half echoed across the night. Few heard it and those who did hoped the thunder was a harbinger of some rain. Shortly afterward, it came again. And again. And again.

Sadly, no rain fell.

The moon was bright, the sky was clear, and Maria Campbell, smelling of smoke, skipped happily home, cradling money well spent, the sack she was carrying several pots lighter.

Maria Campbell slept the sleep of one who had finally let a long-held breath loose, her new prototype cleaned and oiled, drawings of an old friend on her desk…

That morning, Rafael came over for breakfast, and they had an enjoyable meal, just the three of them.


Eventually, summer break neared its ended. Despite her desire to stay home, Maria left for the Academy two days before the resumption of classes, hugging her mother as if she never wanted to let go and promising to write. There were things that she, as President-but-actually-Head Clerk, would need to see to, to ensure a smooth transition back to classes. Her mother had kissed her and hugged her and apologized for no reason and told her she loved her and asked her to visit if possible.

The Ministry carriage was swift, and all too soon she had to disengage her arms from Rafael to part as she was let off at the Academy while he returned to the Ministry. Humming, she returned to her rooms, putting away her clothes and taking her stash from the Student Council's storage.

As she headed for lunch, however, she found her way barred by a familiar face in white adorned with a cape, and bracketed on either side by imposing figures clad in black armor.

"Maria Campbell," the Third Prince intoned as Maria heard metal and men moving behind her. He brandished a writ, signed and sealed with the royal Darksign. "You are summoned to the capital to face the king's judgement!" He gave her a courtesan's smile. "You may fetch your formal clothes."

Damn it, she knew she shouldn't have tried quadrupling his paperwork! She had overreached herself!