After breakfast, they were shown to their office, and despite Joanna's lurking fear and dread, she was pleased to see that they weren't getting shoved off to a bare room with a single candle and a rickety table, with so little ink provided they might need to resort to using their own blood. Instead, the room, while unusual, was comfortably furnished, with nice, sturdy desks with drawers for papers, supplies and snacks, as well as lamps for light, with more oil hidden in a discreet cabinet. Judging from its size, it appeared to be a former bedroom, the three desks arranged so that they would not feel crowded. There were even wooden folding screens, of the sort ladies used to change clothes behind, standing decoratively along one wall should they wish to divide the room into privte offices, which seemed a bit much. Next to the door was a table bearing a large pot and cups for tea, a large jug of water, and, strangely, bottles of what appeared to be fruit juice of some sort, in buckets of ice as if they were wine.

"I apologize for the juice, but it is the only other beverage we have, unless you wish to ask for milk," Lady Campbell said, having guided them to the room herself. "I do not drink… wine, and so have little in stock at the moment, due to the storm. Do you have a preference?"

"Oh no, that's all right, your ladyship," Joanna said. "I'm fine with this. Accountants aren't encouraged to drink on the job anyway."

The Sevenights twins nodded in agreement.

"Very well, then. I shall leave you to it. One of the maids will be waiting nearby if you need anything, and if there's a matter that needs my urgent attention, have her inform me. I will meet you at lunch," Lady Campbell said.

Joanna stood awkwardly for a moment, but, the other two were already moving to the two desks that faced each other, so she took the third, putting down her purse as they lay down their briefcases and took a set of files from the bunch that had been left on one of the desk. Each set of files dealt with a different town in Lady Campbell's lands, and Joanna took the set that remained, carrying to her desk. The folder had the name 'Raven's Nest' on it, which she supposed was the town's name. She read the summary. Farmers, a lumber mill, an inn, blacksmiths, carpenters… it all looked very straight forward.

Taxes were divided between taxes to families and taxes to businesses, with a small number of unmarried, single people who paid individual taxes due to not having any close local family, creating three separate categories. Joanna decided to start with the last category first, just to see what she might have ahead of her. The file she picked was on a local man who was self-employed and had put down his profession as 'experienced local guide'…

The morning faded to a dull monotony as Joanna through familiar piles of paper, taking tentative notes. A few had already filed their taxes ahead of time, quite comprehensively, and Joanna set those aside for more thorough examination later. Guidelines for them to follow had been left with the files, directing them on how to proceed. Lady Campbell didn't have any nobles under her, only commoners. A few moderately well-off commoners, but still commoners, so they didn't have to worry about the tangle of exceptions and addendums when it came to noble taxes. Not that Joanna, at least, wouldn't have been able to handle calculating those exceptions and so on so forth, but given how little time they had, it was helpful that she didn't have to.

The work was wonderfully familiar. Almost, the storm, the rain, the lightning and thunder faded into a dull background hum, with only the occasionally exceptionally loud sound jarring Joanna from the familiar work. Almost, she could ignore the ghostly cries and laughter of children in the wind, as if she was haunted by the Storm Rays who flew in the storm's skies.

By the time they were informed it was time for lunch, and were to attend her ladyship once more in the small dining room, Joanna was beginning to feel very silly about last night and this morning as the morning of normalcy pressed upon her. Clearly she had been made excitable by tiredness the night before and being in a new place. So she was clearly misremembering the carriage not having a driver, and all these laughter and cried of children were some manner of auditory hallucinations brought on by stress!

Leaving the office was a shock, however! The day had not gotten any brighter, with the storm still so thick, and so leaving their brightly lit offices for the hallways, with their lone candles and only the chandelier at the atrium was like stepping into an ancient tomb or long lost crypt. Joanna was sure she was not the only one moving at a pace just short of wishing to run, following after the maid.

Their employer was there waiting for them, dressed in the same ensemble as before. Lunch was a strange but warming soup broth in which small cuts of meat, vegetables, mushrooms, and some sort of long, stringy strands of boiled dough floated. It was apparently a recipe from the distant land of Ashina,

"I recognize you have only just begun, but have any problems come up in your examination?" Maria asked, her disquieting maid standing behind her. The dark-haired woman should have looked silly with most of her face hidden behind a curtain of her hair. Instead, she was disturbing, the single narrow triangle of pale flesh below it giving the unnerving impression they were being watched through a partly open door. "Are you comfortable?"

The accountants pointedly did not look at each other. "The accommodations are adequate, your ladyship," Amber said neutrally. They were likely being resined up before some outrageous demand was made that would start hinting at the lady's illegal activities. "And everything looks good so far with the papers I've been looking over."

Lady Campbell nodded. "I see. How are your hands? Are they cramped?"

Joanna's hand twanged in remembered pain from previous tax seasons. "N-no, your ladyship," she said. "We haven't had to do that much writing yet."

Again, the nod. "Very well. I shall leave you to it. Please remember to inform me should anything arise, no matter how minor."

"Of course, your ladyship," Jade said. They wouldn't actually. No noble wanted to be interrupted for minor trifles.

"Dinner shall be early tonight, after which you are free to rest," Lady Maria said. "If you intend to continue working, however, please note the overtime and I will adjust your pay accordingly."

That was almost outright bribery! There was no doubt about it now. While a noble paying their taxes was a sign of some sort of illegal activity, such generous pay was almost certain proof!

They should milk this for all it was worth before they contacted the authorities! Besides, with the storm howling outside, there was no way they could give any sensible pretext for leaving.

But first chance they had, they had to find a way to warn the proper authorities about this illegal operation! They didn't know what it was, but it obviously couldn't be anything good! What other explanation could there be? That she actually was scrupulously honest and only wanted to charge fair taxes on her people?

Even in Joanna's head it sounded absurd.


Maria Campbell felt the Dark Soul, or the dead gods, or perhaps some unknown Great One was mocking her. She'd finally managed to get accountants to ease her workload, first for the preparations for tax season, and then hopefully for the accounts of the estate, the Nightflower Workshop and the Arsenal Workshop, allowing her to find time for other things… only for this storm to trap her in her own house, keeping her from doing those other wings like training her squire (the training area was so muddy even the other knights were staying indoors, and Katarina was working on her correspondence), training her wards in basic swordplay (and that had to wait until the children were back to class so they could use the atrium), or doing anything else but accounts.

She sighed. She couldn't even try and convince Rafael to ravish her, as he'd been caught in the Ministry and was probably staying there for the duration of the storm. The horses had gotten sick from traveling in the storm with the accountants, and even though Maria had used Light Magic to heal them, it would be cruel to send the animals (not beasts, beasts were something else) out into the storm again, when Rafael would probably be comfortably ensconced in the Ministry's dormitories.

In fact, the storm had left Maria with so few options for what to do (she'd already finished the estate accounts and her own taxes that morning) that she had attained a state of rarity: Maria Campbell was currently bored out of her mind. She couldn't even find a chair to sit in and nap, since the howl of the storm was reminding her painfully of the cold winds surrounding Castle Cainhurst, and she did not want to sleep with that place strongly in her mind. It was only the children's comforting presence that had let her drift off to sleep the night before as she and the children had slept on blankets on the floor. Apparently it was not only her who had trouble sleeping with the sound of the storm, the children reminded of too many cold nights sleeping in terrible weather. With their presence, however, she had fallen asleep remembering the research hall, which… well, it wasn't a pleasant dream, but it was much better than remembering Cainhurst.

As she wondered how to occupy herself beyond scraping the bottom of the sewers for Yharnam rats and doing more sword drills, a thought occurred to her. Mother, and Miss Shelley, had retired to her house because of the storm after breakfast, and they were probably as bored as she was. It was with slightly guilty overtones, but perhaps she should visit her mother, spend time with her… perhaps they could bake something together…?

The thought made Maria brighten. It had been a long time since they'd cooked or baked together, back during that time Rafael had first visited… the more she thought of it, the more it seemed like a good idea.

She went down to the kitchen where preparations for dinner were already underway and began to get the ingredients. Flour, eggs, butter, sugar, salt, jam, some fruit…

Maria whistled as she packed the ingredients in a suitably waterproof container– a small barrel, the edges of the lid sealed with beeswax– ignoring the strange looks her kitchen staff were giving her. It was most improper for her to be there, but… well, she'd used to be a commoner, she was allowed to act like it in her own manor. She visited the linen closet and took four towels. Three she left next to the door closest to her mother's house so she, and later mother and Miss Shelley had something to dry off with when they came for dinner. The fourth she placed on the lid of the barrel as added protection as she covered it with her leather cape and stepped out into the storm.

Her hat, coat and cape shed the rain, but she still hurried as she headed for her mother's house. Lightning flashed and thunder rolled as she hurriedly used her key to open the front door and quickly closed it behind her, wincing at the bang. She took off her hat and coat and hung it on the rack next to the water catch to drip dry before taking the barrel with her ingredients to the kitchen– which was empty, meaning her mother and Anne were probably upstairs– and setting it on the counter. Taking the towel, she used it to dry her face, arms and other places.

"Mother?" she called, only to grimace in annoyance as thunder rolled over her words. Well, her mother would appreciate her yelling from the kitchen like a lout. Folding the towel neatly and draping it over the back of one of the chairs, she left the room and climbed the stairs. The stairs creaked under her feet as she climbed, but there was a lot of creaking going on. In fact, over the wind– or perhaps because of the wind– something sounded like it was creaking constantly. She hoped this didn't result in anything getting damaged…

On impulse, Maria checked her old room, then winced. It was dusty, and smelled musty. Well, that would give her something to do while the storm happened: clean up her old room, chose the things she would move to her new room after the storm…

Shaking her head, she went to greet her mother. "Mother?" she called, then rolled her eyes as thunder devoured her words again. Yes, some higher power was definitely mocking her, she reasoned.

The creaking of the house was louder as she walked to her mother's room and saw the door was slightly ajar. "Mother," she called to announce herself, and was slightly relieved there was no coincidental thunder as she pushed the door open…


Joanna Harker was jolted from her study of accounts, taxes and tax records as an unearthly wail sounded, so loud it pierced the sounds of the storm. It echoed, reverberating heart-wrenchingly, and the shiver didn't so much run as stampede up and down her spine.

Maria's wards, women (and three men) who had lost their homes, their lives, their innocence, their dignity, their will to live, and had only recently found those things being returned to them, heard the sound, and recognized it. They knew that sound, one way or another. It was the sound of a heart breaking, of innocence lost, the sound of ultimate suffering…

Maria's younger wards, children who felt they were living a dream and had pinched themselves often only to find that, no, it was real, heard that sound, and instinctively wanted to go to it. It was the sound of someone in pain, and their innocent hearts, slightly scarred, mildly contused, and a few befouled by the most unspeakable horrors humanity was capable of, could not let another feel this terrible pain that thy had been saved from. Somehow, they knew, she they called mama was hurting…

The cry echoed across the grounds, reaching the ears of the knights, whether on patrol in the weather, or waiting their turn to patrol later, and each felt an instinctive sense of failure. No one living should need to make that sound. To hear someone undergoing such suffering made them feel like they had failed at some fundamental level, for a knight was supposed to protect against such horrors…

However, Katarina Claes, sitting at her desk and writing letters to her friends– Anne had pointed out since she wasn't seeing them as much anymore that they would appreciate getting letters– looked up, a strange expression on her face. "Huh," she said, as if to herself. "I guess Maria found out. I told you to tell her, Anne… "

Shaking her head at the silliness of useless lesbians and the gravity-warping oblivious denseness of Main Characters who couldn't see the blatantly obvious when it was right in front of them– thank goodness that as a villainess she didn't have that problem!– she went back to her correspondence, wondering what sort of silly, coincidence-laden, 90's-era sex comedy-esque hijinks this would lead to…


A/N: No segment tomorrow, I moved it to today because the weather was so bad I couldn't write original fiction. Apparently, i can write fanfics at any time but Original stuff needs ideal working conditions... So today is a Maria Day, and tomorrow i write about eldritch Powerful Rangers...