Descendants.
Offspring, little ones, babies, parasites, social leeches, bottomless pits, incessant and annoying noise factories—in Plegia and Ylisstol they are called by different names. She could once dismiss the labels that other desert nobles gave to their unpleasant spawn, but at least she had enough humanity to not think of them as burdens. After all, as her mother would say, they were a good source of money, at least for their family.
Tharja knew this well. Her mother and aunts had always told her never to waste such opportunities for easy money.
"My dear child," she recalled her mother's words, a stoic, logical woman but firm and strangely emotional, according to her relatives. "Until you grow into the woman you must become, I won't let you make the same mistakes as those nobles who, with a smile and a promise of wealth, allow themselves to be bred like cattle. I will teach you to profit from the heartbreaking tales of love lost among these vulgar bourgeois," she remembered as she plucked a hair from her head. Young Tharja couldn't understand what her mother was doing as she also took a hair from her own head and placed both in a chalice. Her father did the same, letting the strange liquid bubble. They waited a few minutes until, from within the thick mixture, with special tweezers, they pulled out a pink strand.
"Mother? What is this?" Young Tharja asked, receiving the strand in her hands, bright pink in the center, though the tips—one black, one white—were intertwined.
"Children are the result of passion, of union, or of the violence between two beings," she said, kneeling beside her. "Women, as the bearers of life, are the white part of this union. Men, as the ones who surround us, are the black part under their grasp. You, my dear, are a rather unusual rarity in our family," she smiled with a touch of malice in her eyes.
"Am I?"
"Of course you are. This simple ritual proves it. The sample your father gave and the one I gave are intertwined with your hair, showing that we are both your biological parents, our blood and flesh," she said, holding her by the shoulders, whispering in her ear. "What many foolish nobles inexperienced in magic do not know is that we can not only determine the parentage of a child but also the conditions under which they were conceived," she said, showing her a small notebook.
"...blue for indifference, purple for hatred, red for violence...pink for passion, yellow for fear..." she read aloud.
"For decades, our family has been judged harshly for rituals, curses, or spells that other families cannot perform. This one, in particular, allows us to find a bastard child and prove their noble heritage. If it reveals an unfortunate color, it indicates that our fee will be twice as much if it's blue or pink. Another color indicates it will be four times higher than just determining the child's blood. You, my dear child, are a special case, as you are the only 'pink' among thousands of blue strands. However, your talent stands out among 'blues' who consider themselves superior. You threaten an outdated and obsolete family tradition that says 'blue' is superior to any other color. That is why we have raised you with such care in the shadow of your relatives' envy."
"My dear child, from now on, at your ten years of age, a trial will begin for you to learn everything your mother and I know," said her father as he knelt before her. "We hope that with time, you will forgive us for placing this heavy burden on your shoulders and that, in time, you will find someone who makes you have a 'pink' just like you."
In her short life, Tharja hadn't cared much about others' feelings. She respected her mother and admired her father, but it was the first time they had spoken to her this way. Seeing her mother's swollen belly, she could understand that her parents liked each other, but it made a bit more sense now why many of her relatives looked at them with a bit of 'disgust.' For sorcerers who could curse others, it was strange for them to have such a bond and inclination. Her father kissed her mother's hand as they separated to begin her lesson.
"Absurd!" she thought as she watched them. If they wanted to be a couple of fools in love, that was their problem! She had seen several times how nobles letting themselves be carried away by 'passion' was a bad idea, often ending poorly. She felt some shame in knowing her origin, but now it also made sense why her cousins looked at her with some resentment and envy.
"I just hope you never know the burden your clients bear with this ritual, my child," said her mother as she took the chalice again. "For under normal conditions, the burden your clients will carry will be too much for some, and for the children, it's a pressure that should not be taken lightly. You must understand the consequences of this ritual."
"I thought every ritual or curse had its cost," Tharja said, trying to change the subject. She couldn't stand her mother when she got sentimental. The woman smiled as she played with a small coin between her fingers.
"That's right, every ritual, curse, or spell has its cost. However, here the one who sets the cost will be 'the truth.' So prepare yourself to pay it if you fall victim to this ritual."
'The truth'? What a ridiculous concept, she thought at the time. Her mother was a fanatic of philosophy and metaphysical concepts, driving her ignorant clients crazy when they couldn't humiliate her, and even more so her relatives when her rhetoric or thought, despite being driven by 'emotion,' was often more pragmatic and logical than those of more serious family members.
"Hey, calm down, are you alright?" She remembered his face under the sun.
"...you... old witch!" she thought as he helped her to her feet.
He was kind.
His gaze was unconditioned, not like that of the prince who had offered her a place in his cause. There was no hatred, no anger, no animosity, or any negative feeling towards her. Was this person really Plegian? His clothes bore the seals of one of the most radical Grimleal groups, yet his eyes were filled only with concern and a kindness that reminded her of how her father looked at her mother.
She thought that if she could slip away after the battle, she would return to her family and have a chat with her mother about the absurdity she had done. Her mother had given her a platinum coin to survive or to offer to the gods in some simples rites.
¿A simple rite? There were only a few who could use that coin as an "offering" for the simple rites they practiced. She wasn't dying (yet), didn't need to bribe anyone, and despite having a figure that incited men, she was definitely not pregnant to offer it for a safe birth. There were other minor things for simple rituals, but only marriage remained.
The old witch had used divination and apparently had succeeded in predicting that her daughter would find her dream match.
Now was she to join the same group of credulous fools who got sappy and put up with it? She could hear her mother and sister mocking her from afar if they ever found out that the always serious and stoic person she was would now voluntarily join a simple rite.
At first, it seemed like just an obsession. She checked herself to make sure it wasn't a curse that the fool had on others, but this fool was simply a good strategist, a good and caring tactician. She hated the fact that he was socially adept, always having that silly girl with pigtails behind him and that dancer looking after him in his study. That fool was so obtuse that even after the war, he couldn't see the signs of those silly girls trying to flirt with him, especially that silly pigtail girl who regularly slept on his lap when he fell asleep under that oak tree in the royal garden.
"I can offer my services," she murmured to Sumia, the current queen. Many nobles at the time had complained about her presence. Even her mother had threatened Chrom at some point, asking if she was a political prisoner, she had to defuse the issue. Chrom only wanted her there out of that silly sentimentality of 'unity' as a member of the Shepherds, but he was one of the few who defended her. Sumia was one of those few. However, there was that fool who always made her heart race.
"Well, she's important. If it weren't for her, I wouldn't be here," Robin would say to every foolish noble who complained about her presence or to every ridiculous maiden in love with him who complained about how she always followed him closely. Even though the pigtail princess herself complained, he never gave in. Like Tharja's mother, this fool of a man, who her old self would have found incredulous, ridiculous, even annoying in some sense, couldn't help but make her smile every time he defended her, even when many called her just a stalker. "She... is just passionate," Robin would laugh. "Our group has many passionate people, doesn't it? She's perfect in this group."
She remembered those wonderful years by his side. She always felt something within him that she didn't like, but only on rare occasions did she perceive what she now knew was Grima. The way Robin could excellently conceal such a malignant power as Grima's without anyone noticing was one of the reasons why she was so obsessed with him. How could this fool of a man pull off such a feat? He coudlnt make himself more interesting.
Then came Morgan.
A noisy, annoying girl at times, who often interrupted her and did things that drove her crazy, only to then fix her nonsense. A foolish girl from a foolish man.
Was she also a fool for wanting to involve herself in that foolish family dynamic? Of course, and the worse of that, is that by the end of the war, she didnt mind at all.
And then, he disappeared.
That fool almost broke her heart, not just hers, but Morgan's, Lissa's, Chrom's, all their friends'. She hated the fact that he had so much influence over her.
"We need to check this..." She remembered Cordelia's words the night before. She looked nervous outside her room. She had stepped out for a moment to bring snacks to her room with that girl, and Sumia had accompanied her to make sure everything was okay.
"I wouldn't want to think these sweet girls are frauds... but Frederick insists on this... and following the protocol Robin left... we can't refuse this in front of the others," Sumia said, disappointed in herself.
"Excuse me?" Tharja commented, not knowing exactly what to do.
"You said you could offer 'your services,' right? We want this to be quick, safe, and above all, private," Sumia said, looking around before approaching and using her hand so only Tharja could hear her, "It upset me at the time that you said you could... make sure to know who the child belonged to... it certainly bothers me a lot that you questioned the lineage of Lucina and Cynthia back then... but now, with everything that's happening... we just want to be sure."
"We?" Tharja said as she looked at Cordelia, who seemed ashamed.
"I know... she's my daughter, I know, I have no doubt," Cordelia said, clenching her fists, "It's just that... in my family, we've always had trouble having children... that Severa tells me we're a big, happy family... when the lack of children is the biggest reason some family ties break..."
The 'perfect' pegasus knight, doubting something? She couldn't figure out what, but seeing that they had a small jar with red and green hair, she couldn't help but feel a pang.
Now she hated having a conscience.
Was that the 'price' to pay that her mother talked about? What this ritual cost? She wasn't entirely sure, but she had some questions before continuing.
"Does Nowi know?" Tharja asked, seeing the amount of hair in the jar. Their faces said it all.
"She was a bit upset, but she agreed to follow the procedures Robin left and that you suggested for anything related to this," Sumia said. "In her own words, she has no doubt that she's her daughter, but she's disappointed that we don't want to believe in them."
"It's not anything like that," Tharja said, trying to calm the queen—wait, she was trying to console her? Had Robin really destroyed her main line of work? "It's just a precaution, after all, Cynthia was deceived by that guy pretending to be Chrom when we found her, so this is just insurance to protect the children and their parents."Robin had definitely destroyed her primary line of work. Her family would be mocking her for worrying about her clients or contractors. She pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind; there was no point in worrying about it now.
They couldn't say much more; their intentions were clear. They just wanted to know if they were their daughters or not. At first, Tharja thought that perhaps because they were from another world, the results wouldn't come out as expected. Or at least, that's what she would have thought if she hadn't done this with Lucina.
In her pettiness and just because Robin couldn't stop worrying about the future, she tried to remove the tactician's doubts. If she could prove that this woman was lying, then those 'Future Past' things could be dismissed as mere fantasies. When she did the test, thinking it would fail simply because they might not share blood, she was surprised when that bright pink strand appeared. She couldn't believe the significance of that ritual. Now that she was caught in this mess, she had a bigger problem.
Her damned conscience.
Did she care about this group? Had they settled in her heart? She hated to admit it. She hated the fact that she cared about the feelings of the perfect knight. She hated the fact that, if she found out that Nah wasn't a 'pink strand,' it could destroy Nowi. It was just luck that she mentioned to Sumia that she could know who was whose child, not the circumstances.
Maybe the weight had become heavier because it gnawed at her inside just to think about doing the same to Morgan. Given how she was and how much she loved Robin, obviously, she had to be pink, but that possibility that she wasn't was what bothered her the most.
'The truth will reveal the price to pay.'
Her mother's words now resonated stronger than ever. Would it be like this for the rest of her life? Bringing bad news to strangers wasn't difficult, but it was impossible to do so with people she knew. She had lied to herself and others to limit the suffering of her friends and acquaintances.
Her old self would be disgusted to see her new self worrying about others. Being in that group was definitely toxic to her work and her specialization.
She couldn't sleep that night. She knew she had to do her job. It didn't bother her to perform that ritual to confirm someone else's lineage, but thinking about the implications was something that did. Her friends didn't deserve bad news.
"My friends…" she sighed as she disdainfully looked at the jar. Now she understood better than ever why her family members were so unsocial with others, even with their own family members. Even now, she thought she should just tell them that they were their daughters so she wouldn't have to bear the guilt she felt. But again, she shouldn't have to lie in the first place.
So with not much else to do, she just did the minimum—a simple test to determine their relationship. Any sample she had of Robin was about to run out, and being honest with herself, she knew the others would be more than pleased to know they were used to bring him back rather than in some inheritance ritual. So she just went with the ritual without Robin´s sample.
In the morning, after preparing everything, she just wandered around her private lab for a few minutes. Why was she so nervous? She bit her nail, unable to cope with the fact that sooner or later, she would have to do the ritual. She stopped dead after growling as she looked at the samples. "This is ridiculous, just do it already!" She took Cordelia's and Severa's samples but stopped dead again. Her hand refused. She looked over her shoulder—the comb Robin used had barely anything left, just enough for about four more summoning tests if she didn't use them. After that, she'd have nothing. She looked back at her hand, still refusing to let go of the samples. "...Arrrgh! YOU... YOU FOOLISH WOMAN! YOU OWE ME! AND I'M GOING TO MAKE YOU PAY DEARLY!" she shouted, raising her arms as she cursed the pegasus knight. Taking what she needed from the comb, she let go of the three strands of hair into the chalice.
Well, her heart was racing as she waited for the effect. After a few minutes, she started searching with tweezers.
"...damn lucky," she said with a sigh, placing that pink strand next to the chalice, with the black and white tips on the sides. It was as that girl had said; it couldn't be any other way. "...well... one down…" Now she could see what she feared most—the sample from Nowi and Nah.
Thinking about what she saw from her past, Nowi was a sweet girl. She was a burden to her, noisy, childish—definitely, if the pink didn't come out in her test, it would be something she'd have to keep secret. With a sigh, she let the strands of hair fall into the chalice.
"Remember, this test is only for humans," her mother's voice echoed as she unsuccessfully tried to avoid the disaster.
Well, the explosion was more noise than anything else. Opening the window, she had to tap her ears a couple of times to regain her hearing. She sighed as she saw Sully in one of the windows. She rolled her eyes, realizing who had witnessed her little slip-up. Honestly, she didn't feel like hearing her teasing.
With less smoke in her lab, she could see that the chalice was broken. Although Manaketes are famous for their large amounts of magic, she didn't expect such a reaction. At least she didn't regret seeing the same result in her ritual as she had with Cordelia.
"Tch... pair of lucky fools…" Tharja murmured with a smile as she bit her nail.
"Come on! Forgive me! I didn't want that to happen! I promise!" Morgan pleaded to an 'angry' Olivia. Olivia only glanced at her for a moment before looking away with a pout. After the morning's spectacle, they had barely managed to finish practice, eat, and prepare the bar at the amphitheater. Now that night had fallen, the dancer had suggested the previous day that Morgan stay with her, but now she couldn't even look her in the face.
Despite Morgan's apologies, Olivia wasn't really angry with her; she just couldn't look her in the eye because of the embarrassment she felt.
She was ashamed that such private things about Robin had come out, especially since she felt a bit responsible for what might happen at the castle if word got out. The thought that Robin had come up with that nickname, "gardenia bud," made her cheeks flush, and the warm sensation that spread through her body just from imagining Robin embracing her, their noses touching, and him whispering that nickname was more than enough to make her feel all giddy.
"Sumia has definitely rubbed off on me. I've fantasized about that so many times," Olivia thought as she tried to stifle a squeal at the recurring fantasy. "It's your fault, Morgan," she thought again as the girl continued trying to apologize.
"Ah! I know!" Morgan ran all over the room, looking for various things. Olivia sat down in her hammock, wondering what she was planning now.
She couldn't help but find it endearing how the little girl left her coat on the back of a chair, pulled various things out of her pockets, took out some sweets, and presented her masterpiece—a few biscuits with jam and cream. "Look! I'm giving you my sweets, just please stop being mad at me," she pleaded with teary eyes, pouting.
"..." Olivia just sighed, gently pulled her into the hammock, and hugged her tightly.
"O-Olivia?"
"Waaaaaaaaaaah! Forgive me, Morgan! I know my shyness often keeps me from doing certain things, but I didn't want to force you to give me your sweets!" Olivia thought, clearing her throat before taking a biscuit and eating it shyly.
"Olivia? Are you still… are you still mad at me?"
"Morgan, just let it go," she sighed. "I'm not mad at you… I'm just… a little sad that you had something so precious from your father and didn't tell me."
"Well… it's not that I didn't tell you, not just you… it's just that not many people know about this," she said, eating a biscuit too.
"What?"
"Aversa told me that the best thing I could do was hide Dad's journals so that his memory would be safe. She said that many Grimleal fanatics that were left after the war might want to destroy his legacy, or some 'fools' might try to copy his mentality and behavior to imitate him and deceive others who didn't know him. So technically, you're one of the few people who know about the existence of this journal."
"...haaaaaaaaaaaah…" Olivia just left the rest of the dessert on the plate and rested her head on Morgan's. "Morgan… never change," she whispered.
"Huh? What happened? What did you say?"
"I said it's not good for your health to eat so many sweets."
"Uncle Gaius says otherwise," she remarked while popping another slightly smaller biscuit into her mouth. Despite having Morgan in her arms and with her back turned, Olivia could see her face reflected in one of the mirrors in the room. The carefree way she ate was undeniably adorable. "Besides, these are biscuits Aunt Maribelle gave me, so they must be healthy."
"Maribelle cooked for you?"
"She always does on these days," she said with a slight tone of disappointment in her voice. "When she gives 'human slang' lessons to Aunt Panne, she comes to the castle to cook for Aunt Lissa and leaves us some snacks. Since she's preparing to become the attorney general, she hasn't... well, she didn't have much free time. Now that I think about it… she's been spending more time at the castle than in the past few weeks."
"Interesting..." Olivia said as she began to play with Morgan's hair. "What do you think of Maribelle?"
"She's strict," Morgan stuck out her tongue, recalling some unpleasant moments with her. "She scolds me a lot when I'm not walking properly, or even when I'm asleep on the bookshelf or under the bed. She uses a cupcake to wake me up and then proceeds to scold me."
"Morgan... why are you in those places in the first place?"
"I play hide and seek with Lucina, but those spots are really comfortable! She even says so herself!"
"Lucina?"
"Little Lucina, obviously," she pouted. "Big Lucina is kind of... serious. Even little Lucina scolds her when I'm playing with her! I don't know why she makes those faces when little Lucina falls asleep with me, especially in the royal garden. Sometimes with the early morning breeze, I just can't help but lie down and take a nap."
Thinking about the little princess, Olivia obviously knew why Lucina wasn't angry but jealous. The thought of her younger self taking advantage of the situation and cuddling up with Morgan was something the princess probably envied. "Well... maybe you should spend more time with Lucina. You might find fun things to do together if you try... As for Maribelle, have you done anything with her?"
"Nope, just sometimes during the classes she gives Panne. In fact, lately she's been asking me to accompany her..."
"And why is that?"
"I don't know. She said she needed to make sure I don't 'get too cheeky' since apparently, I have that 'bad girl look' when no one's watching."
Olivia was stroking her head, feeling it at her fingertips as she gently pampered her. Maybe it didn't hurt anymore, but she could still feel the tender skin on her head where she had received that wound.
She felt guilt, a lot of guilt.
Tharja had told her several times that it was something no one expected, and even if she absolved her of all guilt, Olivia couldn't help but feel that she had failed to protect someone so valuable to the group. Maybe those excuses were just things Maribelle was saying to keep her close. After all, Olivia had heard nasty rumors about certain nobles who were starting to lurk around the castle and trying to meddle in Chrom's affairs. She missed the simplicity of Ferox, but she certainly couldn't live apart from this group at that point, especially from the beautiful girl in her arms. She sighed and then kissed the spot where she had felt the wound.
"Olivia?"
"I think it's time for you to go back to the castle. I've kept you to myself for too long. You must be eager to be with your new sisters, right?"
"Well... yes... it's just... it's just that... I'm a bit nervous..."
"Nervous?" Olivia asked inquisitively.
"Well... yes... it's just that..." Morgan was playing with her fingers. "I don't want to... disappoint them. Severa and Nah seem genuinely happy to see me... but I don't know anything about them... so... I don't know how to talk to them," she continued with a nervous giggle. "I don't... know how to talk to them... I only remember Dad... I don't know if I was an older or younger sister... so I don't know how to act."
"..." Olivia stayed silent as she tried to process what she had just witnessed. "Is this Morgan being shy!?" she thought as she continued to stroke her head. "Oh Naga, Robin, you told us she looked really cute when she acted like this, but THIS IS TOO MUCH!"
"Olivia?"
"Ah, w-well, I..." Olivia coughed into her hand, trying to clear her thoughts. "Maybe you just need to... be yourself. Perhaps just a simple task between sisters, some sword practice, or just having a meal together to break the ice, don't you think?"
"..." Morgan stood up and sighed. "Aunt Olivia... you just gave me the same speech that everyone else has given me..." she said, looking a bit disappointed.
"Eh? W-what? But..."
"Well, I don't know, all the girls saw I was feeling down and said something similar... I know they don't know about the little scene at the castle, but... you said almost the same thing they did."
"Ugg..." Now Olivia felt even worse since she couldn't comfort her properly.
"Well... although... if you're saying it... I feel more at ease." Morgan moved closer to hug her from the front. "Thank you..."
"...Morgan... I..."
"Oh, enough already!" someone shouted. Both turned to see Lissa walking in with Gaius behind her, who seemed amused.
"Come on, it's not that bad," Gaius chuckled.
"Hey! I want in too!" Lissa shouted, joining the hug.
"What are you doing?" Morgan asked, feeling squeezed between the two women.
"Recharging my energy with Morgan's energy~" Lissa said happily.
"And then you ask why—"
"Don't you dare!" Lissa interrupted Gaius, pointing her fingers at him. "Don't you dare say a single word."
"..." Gaius grinned widely.
"Don't . ."
"...Bumble Bee~"
"Ngghhh!" Lissa hugged Morgan even tighter. "He's being mean to me! Say something, Morgan!"
"Uh? Why do you think Morgan w—"
"I know where you hide your honey and raspberry cookies around the castle," Morgan replied.
"...wow. wow... wooooow.!" Gaius raised his hands in surrender. "Wait, I think there's been a misunderstanding here, why don't we calm down and leave behind these threats of war crimes? Bubblegum, I think we've gone a bit too far, s—"
"I also know where the lemon candies that Lucina loves are hidden."
"!" Gaius began to sweat as Morgan looked at him with a teasing grin. "W-well, it's not like..." he fiddled with the lollipop in his mouth. "...well, I think we're venturing into dangerous territory here, so I'll wait outside," he said, slowly closing the door behind him.
"Mph! That'll teach him not to mess with me," Lissa said angrily. "Although, I don't know why they're saying those things now," she added, taking a step back from them.
"What things?" Olivia asked nervously, expecting to hear what she feared the girls downstairs might be saying.
"Well, some of your dancers started asking, 'Are you the bumblebee?' over and over when I went to the food area and asked for some sweet rolls," she said, crossing her arms in annoyance. "I don't know why they started saying that, but I didn't like it when Gaius started agreeing with them."
"Oh... well..." Morgan laughed nervously. "Maybe... that is...msmsmmm."
"Sorry? I didn't catch that."
"I said prppbntesmcpa," Morgan mumbled nervously.
"Morgan?"
"It's probably my fault," she laughed, while Lissa looked puzzled by her words. "I-it's just that we were reading Dad's notes, and some pages came up where he was saying he might take Gaius's advice and give nicknames to his friends! F-for example, Olivia is 'gardenia sprout,' you're 'bumblebee,' Cordelia is 'Wings,' Sully is 'Rose,' M-Maribelle is 'Cupcake,' and so on... isn't that funny? ha ha ha... haha... ha?"
"... and exactly where did you get this from?"
"Um..." Morgan timidly pulled out her father's notebook, and Lissa recognized the handwriting on the cover.
"...weeeellll... if it's you, I'll just forget about it~" She took Morgan's hand while waving goodbye to Olivia. "I think we need to talk about this. I'm sorry to take her away from you, but we need to discuss some things. I'm pretty sure Maribelle can give us a bit of time from her lessons to talk about this~" Lissa said as Morgan paled.
"W-well, I'll go later. I think we need to sort some things out for Ferox," she added before leaving, literally dragging Morgan by the arm.
Olivia could only pray for the poor girl's soul; maybe if she sent a message, they could prevent Lissa from monopolizing Morgan for the rest of the week.
"Mmm... that doesn't seem to be the case..." Maribelle murmured as she looked at the blackboard. Over the past few weeks, she had been using one of the teaching rooms Robin had implemented in the castle.
That disheveled man who made her sigh had suggested turning an unused room into a teaching hall. He had already made structural reforms to the castle, the garden, and the music room, but to Maribelle, the teaching hall was what she could call her 'baby.'
That man had already made several concessions to reform the land of Ylisstol and ensure that no place lacked natural resources, but implementing a teaching method? That was something Maribelle took pride in, not only because it was a personal challenge but because it excited her to be something more for Ylisse, to set a standard.
As Robin pointed out, the nobility had an education system that only covered language, grammar, arithmetic, and certain studies in science and magic, but beyond that, it didn't cover much. When she realized that many regions lacked this service, it was during a cordial conversation that she came up with this idea.
"Donnel..." she recalled Robin's voice as they talked about the boy. "He's a diamond in the rough, but unfortunately, even if we make these reforms, it'll take years for them to reach his village, not to mention others."
She fondly remembered those days, during the first anniversary after Emmeryn's death. Chrom, Lissa, and Sumia were supporting the nation, and she could monopolize Robin for herself during those days. At first, she wasn't pleased, but after hearing his plans and ideas, she found him more fascinating than any other noble, and that was saying a lot! She couldn't imagine anyone else as interested in science (except for a madman like Miriel) and education as he was. He shared her belief that all they needed was education to start improving things.
It took years to filter and identify the things that could be useful for both nobles and commoners, but now, she could begin with the first steps of her project. And what better way than to help one of her most needy friends at the moment?
"...Good afternoon," Panne greeted as she entered the room and joined her. "...Is this... new?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, dear, this isn't for you." She pointed to some papers with a pencil on the table. "For now... let's go back to basics, shall we? It's just that I got caught up in this."
"..." Panne simply went to the chair to look over the work she had been given.
They had started a few days ago. Maribelle wanted to use her to put her teaching theory into practice. Since Panne and Donnel were a couple, Yarne's arrival only cemented the fact that sooner or later, they would have to learn about each other's culture. On his side, Donnel returned to his farm with his son to teach him the basics. While he was out of town, Panne asked Chrom and Sumia for help to learn about the rules of the 'manspawn,' and who better than her to educate her precious friend? If she could educate a savage (Robin) in the most basic forms of nobility, Panne would be no problem. She had a sincere desire to learn, Maribelle knew that! Even if she kept her stoic expression.
"Excuse me, this is..." Panne brought her out of her thoughts again. She approached to see her doubt.
"...That's 'bow,' dear."
"I thought it was to show respect."
"No, well, yes, but those are the words I told you about that sound the same but can have different meanings, you know, homographs."
"...I see..." Panne continued reading. "Did you do this on purpose?"
"I just included it so you could see how sophisticated the noble language can be. The common people don't usually have this type of education, dear. Remember, I won't rest until you can identify these words in our letters," she said proudly with her chest puffed out. Panne only sighed, sensing that she was in for another long day.
"...You're being... what did Robin say? Condescending..."
"Ugh..." Maribelle bit her lip, thought about her words, and just sighed as she reviewed what she had said. "...I'm very sorry, dear. I must keep practicing how I address my friends."
"Heh.. don't worry, I'm just... practicing what Robin told me."
"Sorry?"
"Robin told me that one way to lighten the mood is through humor. Seeing how they make little jokes, I thought it would calm your heart."
"M-My heart?"
"Well, you were whispering Robin's name for quite a while before I arrived, so I thought you were doing some private activities or simply reminiscing. You didn't even notice I was late," she said nonchalantly while turning back to the paper.
"A-A... are you pulling my leg?"
"Robin taught me that being alone for too long can be bad, which is why he advised me to feel the warmth of Donnel's food. So I figured talking about him for a moment would be good for you. You didn't even notice that we've already solved this worksheet in the last class..."
... Oh, oh! I-I see! Silly me," said Maribelle, trying to regain her composure. "Goodness, I must have my head in the clouds if I let this tiny mistake slip by..."
"...Are you worried about Morgan?"
"Sorry?"
"I'm asking if you're worried about Morgan," Panne began, leaning closer to Maribelle's face. "When you went to see the nobles this afternoon, I could hear that your footsteps and heartbeat were calm, even when that manspawn got impertinent and demanded to see Robin. Talking with the other manspawns at the entrance didn't faze you at all, but only when you went to pick up the report about Robin's... 'other daughters,' I could hear how your heart started racing. When they mentioned Morgan, your heart beat just as it does when you talk to her, so I suppose these events have put you in a complicated position."
"...Your point, dear?"
"Manspawns complicate simple things too much," she said, taking a step back. "Especially those who think they're important." Panne took a sip of water while Maribelle felt like she was going to burst a vein.
"Those who think they're important?! Dear, you're…" Maribelle thought for a moment but stopped herself when she realized that the words she was forming in her mind were dangerously similar to those of the man who demanded to see Robin. "What is your point, dear?"
"Sorry, I'm trying to measure my words. Robin and Libra told me I tend to be blunt."
"Robin and Libra?"
"When we found out about Yarne, Cherche took charge of advising Donnel on how certain pack species behaved. I tried to talk to Robin, but I needed Libra's help because Robin wasn't sure if the things he could tell me were appropriate. Robin told me to think carefully before speaking because some things I say can be offensive to others. Libra tried to explain the basics of what a relationship between manspawns is. He gave me examples of good and bad relationships, including aspects like relationship dynamics, communication, sexuality, culture, and many other things. After a few months, he asked both of us to write down what we thought of each other... which we couldn't do at the time because I don't know how to write, and Donnel doesn't know many things he could write about me..."
Now that she thought about it, it was true that Libra had been more attentive to Donnel than to the others. She didn't particularly notice Robin's absence, but it was fascinating that the tactician everyone admired didn't know much about human relationships.
Her fascination and surprise lasted only a few seconds because if he were someone who could read the signs, half the group wouldn't be chasing after him or his adorable daughter. So it was a point in Panne's favor that, in a way, she perceived this better than Robin.
"Tell me, dear, what's the point of you telling me this? I'm glad you've adapted well to our culture... but…"
"What I mean is that I don't know much about relationships, but what I do know is that Robin and Libra showed me that it's better to be open. I did several experiments and exercises with Donnel; why don't you do the same with Morgan?"
How could Panne say such a thing? It wasn't possible, no, no, no, it simply wasn't something she could do. She opened her mouth to explain why she couldn't.
But she stopped and thought in silence about why.
Well, it was a matter of honor! "Honor?" She pondered for a moment. She wanted to talk more often with Morgan, wanted to scold Robin for being a womanizer, even wanted to smack him with her umbrella for putting the poor girl in such a situation just because he couldn't make up his mind. But it wasn't out of honor, at least she didn't consider it as such.
Was it because she was 'noble'? What exactly was 'noble' about it? She felt bad thinking about what the conduct of nobles was supposed to be and what was expected of them. Marrying someone whose blood wasn't even slightly blue and who already had a daughter wasn't the standard she had expected. Of course, it was an absurd reduction because there could be no nobler blood than Robin's for all he had done, and she wasn't just any girl; she was his daughter. So, in fact, it would be more noble to be open than to simply follow etiquette standards.
"As I said, these are things I don't understand about manspawns who think they're important," said Panne, snapping her out of her thoughts.
She smiled at hearing her words.
"You're right, these are things for people who think they're better than others, those who believe they're important. There's nothing less noble than denying the facts."
"Are you going to talk to the others about sharing?"
Maribelle felt that vein threatening to burst again, raising an eyebrow as she tried not to think ill of Panne once more, but she was simply too direct. "Pardon?"
"I heard Sully mention something about 'sharing,' so I suppose there's only one thing all of you could share. In Taguel packs, it was common for a male to have more than one mate, but I've never heard of him having nine mates, especially not with manspawns."
"Hey, wait a minute, you can't just—" Maribelle stopped and thought for a moment, then started counting on her fingers. "...Lucina, Sully, Lissa, Olivia, Tharja, Cordelia, Nowi...me..." She counted again. "...I... count eight..."
"Oh? You don't know yet? I think th—"
"WAAAAAAAH! Maribelle!" Morgan burst into the room, making Maribelle jump in fright. "SAVE ME!"
"D-DEAR!? What... what are you doing here?!" They heard footsteps, and the girl hid behind her, still clinging tightly to Maribelle.
"Aha! There you are, you damn brat of a—uh-oh! Miss Maribelle!" It was Edmund, one of the nobles from the southern towns, certainly one of the people she DIDN'T want to see even in a painting. "Wh-What are you doing in this area?"
Maribelle turned to calm Morgan, glancing around the room and noticing that Panne had apparently hidden. "Well, this guy really hates non-humans," Maribelle thought as she cleared her throat. "Tell me, what brings your presence here? And why are you harassing Morgan?"
"SHE'S A GIRL-STEALER!" Morgan declared, pointing at him.
"I AM NOT! AND YOU'RE NOT A CHILD ANYMORE!" The man said angrily.
"You just called me a 'damn brat,' you can't say no after calling me that," Morgan retorted with a pout.
"Ahem!" Maribelle cleared her throat again, this time using her fan to cover part of her face to hide her irritation.
"I-I... apologize for my impertinence, it's just that I thought the castle would be in better condition."
"Sorry?!" Maribelle asked.
"Well, how should I put it? Lately, the castle hasn't been living up to its position. I hear rumors that this brat ruined Princess Lucina's birthday, then invited strangers who, to my horror, seem to have something to do with foreign visitors, during a celebration like this? This brat has not only broken the castle's code and rules, but also seems to have no respect, just like her father!" With that, Maribelle felt a slight twitch in her eye.
She looked him up and down, trying not to use any personal insults. He had struck a deep nerve, not only by calling Robin 'disrespectful,' but also by daring to insult Morgan? IN HER PRESENCE?! "Edmund..." She stroked Morgan's head, who lowered her gaze. "I hope you have some basis for saying that Robin has no respect for our rules and for King Chrom, I really hope these aren't just special allegations..."
"Of course not! We have records that haven't been filed! Documents that haven't been reviewed! We even need to talk about this nonsense of economic triage!" He said as he pulled out some papers from his pocket. "What is this nonsense about renewing the roads? I understand the income we get from relations with Ferox, but this ridiculousness of 'reforesting the roads'? 'Assigned croplands'? 'Rotational farming'? Not only has he wasted the crown's capital, but he also doesn't show his face! I've been requesting an audience with him for weeks, but it seems like I'm being ignored. I'll have to request a civil hearing and arbitration to see how much he's scamming us!" He pointed at Morgan. "Although I doubt he'll show up, it's been a while since he did, and it seems like he abandoned this child as w—"
Maribelle snapped her fan shut, making him step back. "My lord, I suggest you understand my advice that it's a very bad idea to finish that sentence. I strongly urge you to measure your words in front of me," she said as she took the papers from him and began to flip through them.
"W-What?! What are you doing?! These are n—"
"Hush! Stay quiet while I'm attending to this. You're outside of my hours, and you're certainly not doing yourself any favors by acting like this, considering that Robin isn't available right now. Who better than the prosecutor to review these accusations?" she said as Morgan stuck her tongue out at him. Maribelle gave her a light tap on the head with her fan. "Dear, you'll get wrinkles."
"Yes, miss," Morgan said as they waited.
Maribelle read the papers while she could hear the annoying sound of Edmund's breathing. "By the way, why are you alone, Morgan?" she asked as she read.
"This girl-stealer set a trap!" She pointed at him again. "We were at the castle gates, and several nobles were bothering Lissa. Some even wanted to take her out to dinner, but they didn't listen! Others were trying to get me to eat something, but this girl-stealer took advantage when Lissa sent me to Lucina's room to intercept and chase me!"
"I see..." Maribelle kept reading, this time giving Morgan a pat on the hand to stop pointing. Fortunately, she understood what she meant while Edmund seemed even more upset. "Taxes, grievances, positional taxes, paternity claims?" Maribelle was now more frustrated than before.
"That's why it doesn't get past the mail; they're just trivial things," commented someone. Edmund, being a short man, found it too insulting that a certain thief was using his head as a support for his arm. Gaius smiled while, before the noble could say anything, he approached Maribelle.
"How did you let this guy chase Morgan for this?" he whispered to her.
"Sorry, a little bee made me run," Gaius replied, making Morgan look away.
"Did you try your bee hive idea again?! Now of all times?!" she whispered angrily as Gaius raised his hands.
"I'll explain later."
"EXCUSE ME?!" Edmund crossed his arms. "Sorry that your conversation interrupts my trivial situation, but if you don't want—"
"Save your empty threats, Edmund," Maribelle sighed, taking a sheet and beginning to write. "Look, we don't have time right now; we're busy. But if you want to schedule an audience with the respective nobles to discuss this matter, I'll gladly do so. I hope your inquisitor has gathered all the evidence for the absurd things you've brought to me because I won't tolerate you wasting any more time than necessary," she said as she handed the sheet to Gaius and returned his papers to Edmund. "Is that clear? You have a week to start formulating your case. It's that or it will be dismissed."
"Eh... I... well..." He looked at her, then at the papers, at Gaius, and then back at the papers. "...Is this some kind of trick?"
"YOU GOT WHAT YOU WANTED, NOW LEAVE, YOU ANNOY ME!" Maribelle shouted as the noble tried to protest. "LET ME REMIND YOU THAT YOU'RE IN A SECTION OF THE CASTLE, FOLLOWING THE GRANDMASTER'S DAUGHTER WITHOUT AUTHORIZATION TO BE HERE. FREDERICK WOULD HAVE EVERY RIGHT TO PUNISH YOU FOR BREAKING THE CASTLE RULES." With that said, the noble quickly left before he could say anything else.
Gaius seemed frustrated, upset for letting Morgan go through something like that. Maribelle was angry, trying to think of what to do next.
"Disgusting..." Panne said, emerging from her hiding spot.
"Tell me about it," Gaius sighed. They now had another problem on their hands. If Sumia planned to make another trip to find Robin's potential future husband, this meeting was going to upset her by forcing her to postpone that trip.
Only a miracle could lift the spirits of the thief and the noble now.
"ah-kit-chu!"
Everyone turned to Morgan, who repeated the sound.
"Dear?" Maribelle asked as Morgan pulled out a handkerchief.
"Sorry... allergies... to stupidity," she said while blowing her nose. Maribelle and Gaius couldn't help but laugh at being witnesses to Morgan's absurd sneezing style.
Chapter 8: Standars.