Hello, ITalkToSky here.
I wrote this chapter on my flight back to Thailand. It was quite a mess. Twenty hours on the plane tends to make people quite cranky, not exactly conducive to writing.
naufalrakha0104: What is extremely strange about their history is that they are still stuck in what is essentially the medieval age after 6000 years. Like compared to our world, we went from inventing wheels to spacecraft. The church is doing something behind the scenes to keep the thing stable for that long. It is not an original idea, but it is probably the most reasonable. Ironically, their technological backwardness spelled their doom. They had no technology to mine windstone that was accumulating under their continent, threatening to tear it apart.
B266: Glad you enjoyed the story. I am taking some liberty with Charlotte's character, since she is almost a blank state in canon.
00000
Day of the Void, 3rd week, Tristian Academy of Magic, Tristian
The novelty of an entirely new world wore off quickly. This surprised Charlotte as much as it didn't. The existence of a parallel universe sounded like something meant for Brimir. Mortal was not meant to know of it. Fish in the pond was not meant to learn of the oceans. Their limited perspective was ill-suited to comprehend their actual place in the universe. Yet, what about it?
There was a world so similar yet so different. But what about it?
The chance of her setting foot on the other side was unlikely at best. Lunaire said so. Up until his lucky accident, there had never been definite proof of a parallel universe. A solution to cross over would probably not appear within her lifetime or never at all. So, apart from the history of their respective worlds becoming a rather fetching conversation topic, her life changed little.
That morning was the same as any.
Charlotte's blue eyes fluttered open. The sun was not visible. Only its light scattered off the far-off cloud, coloring the horizon red. A lesser girl would have succumbed to the temptation to throw the blanket back over her head and go back to sleep, but not Charlotte. Instead, she began clenching and unclenching her hand. Slowly, the numbness receded, replaced only by bone-deep ach in her wrist. It was getting worse. At this rate, Charlotte suspected that holding the pen would be beyond her in a mere few days.
After getting her wrist to move to her satisfaction, Charlotte made her bed and got dressed immediately. She would not be caught running about in her nightgown in case of an emergency. Instead of the set from the dresser however, Charlotte wore the uniform from the day earlier. There was no point soiling a fresh set in the next part of her routine.
Making her way out her room, Charlotte took a flight of stairs down to the living space. Through one of the seldomly used doors, she appeared on the rampart. The Tristain Academy of Magic consisted of one central tower, surrounded by five outer ones in the shape of a pentagram. The dormitory was housed in one of the vertex towers. A part of her questioned the wisdom of placing the vulnerable student population on the first line of defense in case of a siege, but that was neither here nor there. The outer rampart was deserted in the morning and that suited her purpose just fine.
Charlotte rolled her shoulders and stretched out her limbs. She fell into the exercise regime taught to her by the squires during her tenure at a minor knightly order. Her muscles were uncooperative, but she coaxed them to full motion just when the sun peeked above the horizon.
Then she took off running.
Charlotte could not claim that running was a permanent fixture in her routine. On deployment, there were times when she had to conserve energy rather than wasting it on training. But when things at the academy fell into place, she began allocating time in the morning to build stamina.
One, two, and three laps, Charlotte ran back and forth atop the rampart. By distance alone, she could almost make it around the entire academy. Then, the door to the dormitory tower opened, revealing a woman with striking red locks.
"Ara, Charlotte, what a coincidence!"
Charlotte planted her staff on the ground to collect her composure. Her reply was strained. "Good morning, Kirche."
"Morning to you too." Kirche glanced over at Charlotte's glistening forehead. "Getting some exercise in I see. Mind if I join you."
Inadvertently, Charlotte swept an appraising glance over Kirche. She had only seen Kirche in action during that one fight and never observed her closely since. Outwardly, the buxom girl was very well proportioned. But Charlotte could not quite tell if she was all that toned. Her long sleeve shirt and thigh-high boots concealed most of her skin.
Sensing her gaze, the redhead huffed. "I will let you know. I come from a military family. Unlike those delicate flowers, I do get off my rear and move about. How else can I maintain this magnificent figure?"
It took some confidence to describe one's own figure as magnificent. But Kirche was not wrong. There was a reason why the boys could never leave her alone. The uniform accentuated her hourglass figure well. Slim where it should slim. Curve where it should curve. Even a girl could objectively see the appeal, if they were not so envious.
Kirche's words carried no heat, but Charlotte still lowered her head contritely. "Sorry."
Their exchange died as soon as it started. No conversation starter rose to the top of her mind, leaving Charlotte to stare aimlessly at Kirche. She knew that she needed to do something to clear the awkwardness, but her lips refused to budge. In the end, Kirche stepped up to the task.
"Let's get moving then. Don't want to miss breakfast." Kirche unclasped her cape and set it down in the corner.
And off they went.
Tristainia, Tristain
It was a mystery of the ages.
The morning run seemingly took everything out of Kirche. She was a daughter of a military family alright, but it was still short of the knightly standard. Charlotte may have gotten carried away a little. This was the first time anyone accompanied her on an exercise in a long while. Her legs trembled like a newborn doe after the last lap. She barely made it back to her room. When they reconvened at breakfast after freshening themselves up, she still appeared utterly exhausted. Only her ravenous hunger drove her to devour her food with unladylike haste.
Then, as per their prior arrangement, they boarded the carriage to Tristainia. During the trip, Kirche draped herself across the seat like a discarded coat and promptly fell asleep. The disconnect between her seductive and slovenly demeanor was somewhat endearing.
It had nothing on the way she acted after the carriage stopped, however.
Kirche practically sprung to life. All traces of exhaustion vanished like snow in midsummer. Charlotte didn't want to admit it, but she was rightly spooked when Kirche suddenly dragged her off the carriage. The redhead rattled off unfamiliar names of shops so quickly and fluently that it may have been incantations. Charlotte did not have time to think. As soon as Kirche finished her list with a question on where they should go, she immediately answered it on her own.
If an outing with a friend was an experience like this, Charlotte wished it was a rarer occasion. Once a year would be just right. Maybe once every two years even. Being practically dragged through the crowd of Tristain's capital was not an enjoyable experience, especially with her diminutive stature. Charlotte could not see where she was being dragged off to.
"Kirche."
"We are almost there. Just hold on to my hand."
Frustrated, Charlotte contemplated using levitation spell to get her out of the crowd, despite doing so being a faux pas in the capital. Thankfully, the crowd thinned considerably after the two girls rounded a corner away from the main street. Kirche navigated the winding side passage with ease. Before long, the narrow alleyway ended. Charlotte took in her surroundings. From the neatly trimming trees lining the sides of the street and the occasional carriages with fanciful emblems, she assumed this to be the noble boulevard.
"Look, that store over there. It is apparently very popular among the Tristainian. Come on Charlotte, we are wasting daylight."
Charlotte was under the impression that Kirche had never been to Tristainia. If that was the case, her sense of direction was impressive. She only had words of mouth and perhaps a rough map to go on, yet she navigated the city so smoothly like a bloodhound. Charlotte didn't recall them stopping even once, nor did Kirche have to ask anyone for directions.
Whatever the case, Charlotte was not given much breathing room. Kirche was off again with the smaller girl in tow. Next time, Charlotte resolved to work Kirche twice as hard. No, thrice as hard. Perhaps then, she would not be so energetic.
Cling. Cling.
Hastily, Charlotte was coerced through the door. Her honed instinct kicked in immediately after entering a new space. Charlotte tensely surveyed her surroundings. Clothes of all shapes, sizes, and colors hung from racks across the space. Many modestly dressed women busied about at the direction of their supervisor. A dressmaker shop, Charlotte concluded. Kirche mentioned wanting a replacement, rightly so, as the previous one was utterly shredded. Noting the lack of threat, Charlotte relaxed and began taking in the sights.
Her entire life, Charlotte had never been to a dressmaker shop. The dressmakers were the ones coming to her. She remembered the group of strangers showing up before social seasons with volumes of finely illustrated catalogues.
A trickle of joy and melancholy bubbling up. Charlotte did not like the dressmakers, far from it. They were too fussy and took entirely too long with their measurements. But they made her mother very happy. She gushed with them about how stunning her daughter would look. Charlotte could not follow their conversation. But her mother was smiling. That was enough. Her reminiscence was interrupted when a rather tall matron came strutting over.
"Welcome, milady."
"A fine day." Kirche replied with the usual exuberant flair in her voice. "I heard that this shop offered the finest dress in Tristainia."
"Of course, as the purveyor of the Tristainian Royal Family, what else can we offer but our very best?" As she said so, her eyes swept them from head to toe. "So, what are we looking for today? Lady…"
Her voice trailed off. Subtly, her gaze swept them from head to toe. The gesture did not evade the notice of Kirche. She puffed out her chest and announced. "Kirche. Kirche Augusta Frederica von Anhalt-Zerbst. And she is Lady Charlotte."
The matron quickly retracted the gaze. Royal purveyor or not, a grand duke's daughter was more than qualified to set foot in this store. As for Charlotte who wore the noble mantle yet was introduced without her last name, the matron treated her with warry respect still. Anyone that could accompany Kirche could not be offended.
"Let's start with the catalogue first, shall we?"
The matron beckoned over an attendant. The younger woman came over with two small booklets. She handed one to the girls each. Charlotte accepted hers with a flat look, even while her internal thought was in turmoil. This really brought her back. She suppressed the trembling of her hand as she ran her fingers along the binding. Flipping over the pages, Charlotte chuckled softly. Oh, it really didn't change, she thought and immediately lost interest. There was barely any word to read in that booklet and the numbers just screamed 'too rich for you.'
Kirche, on the other hand, took to this like fish to water. It was astounding how long it took for her to get through that little catalogue. It was mostly illustration anyway. As if the pages contained hidden paragraphs, Kirche spent an inordinate amount of time poring over them. Occasionally, she would smile and giggle. Sometimes, she would gesture to the attendant, pointing out and discussing an article of clothing.
Yes, almost like mother.
The last thought jolted Charlotte in her seat. She shook her head. As if taking advantage of her lapsing thought, an attendant wheeled over a clothes rack. Charlotte frowned at the sight of it.
The store deserved the appointment as the Royal purveyor. The selection on display was certainly resplendent. The sheer volume of intricate laces, ribbons, and decoration on each of them attested to the amount of effort poured in by the artisans. The price tag started to make some sense. Not that Charlotte would consider ever spending her limited funds on them. There lied the root of her unease.
Most of the dresses on the rack were primarily in different shades of blue. Charlotte turned slowly to her right. The sight of grinning Kirche greeted her.
"…"
Was this a ploy to humiliate her, Charlotte thought. She had Kirche pegged for a straightforward woman. But then she was dragged here to a dressmaker shop that she could not afford and then put on a spot. Charlotte narrowed her eyes. A little humiliation meant little to her. She faced much worst harassment. But that would mean she needed to distance herself from Kirche. Though, she sensed no malice and only saw an expectant look on redhead's face. The petite girl sighed deeply. The twinkling in those golden-brown orbs only intensified.
"Not buying anything," Charlotte tugged at Kirche's sleeve and whispered.
"Oh, come on. We are already here."
Kirche forced her to say it. "No money."
"There is no problem. It is on me today."
"Absolutely. Not." Charlotte hardened her voice.
Fortunately, Charlotte did not judge Kirche wrong. This was not some elaborate ploy to humiliate her. Unfortunately, this was another can of worm. She was willing to go along with a lot, but she firmly put her foot down on this. The cheapest dress among these would cost her more than half her annual salary as a Chevalier. It was too heavy for a gift. They barely knew each other.
"It is not a big deal. I still owe you for earlier."
"That is nothing."
"It is not nothing." Kirche chided.
On the matter with De Lorraine and Charente, the two of them agreed that Kirche owed a favor. Charlotte wanted to hold that card for later. Cashing that favor for a dress was utterly unthinkable. It was calculating, but Charlotte had no leeway to be choosy with her means. She racked her head for anyway to downplay the matter.
"Kirche, no. Too much."
"On the contrary, this much is too little even."
"…" Charlotte's look grew stern. "Would have resolved itself."
Even if Charlotte succumbed to the momentary anger and fell straight into De Lorrain's plan, one exchange of spells would have cleared things up.
"It does not change the fact that you resolved it." Charlotte was about to respond, but Kirche cut her off. "Besides, you did let me have the satisfaction of revenge, didn't you?"
Charlotte wrung her hands together. She was at her wits end.
"Leave us." With a tone that permitted no disagreement, Kirche waved the attendants away. They lowered their heads and left without a word.
Without the hubbub around, silence enveloped the two of them. Kirche stare contained a mix of curiosity and interest. The meaning was lost on Charlotte however, as she was to busy maintaining her flat expression and churning away in her mind.
"Charlotte…is there something you want from me?"
That was it. The moment.
Charlotte could have played it off. Something in her gut warned her otherwise. Perhaps, she could have smoothed things over afterward, but it would not be the same. Despite the short time together, Kirche seemed like someone she could trust second to Lunaire, who had neither the means nor the motive to harm her. Losing her would be a great loss. Just as she prepared an answer, Kirche spoke up.
"Most noblewomen I knew would have accepted with a smile. They would keep taking and taking. Even after that, down the line, they would still insist that I owe them something. The fact that you refused the gift tells me that you do not intend to take advantage of me like that. You have something in mind for that favor, don't you?"
"…"
"What is it?"
Let it be known that the Grand Duke's daughter was not just a pretty face. Charlotte was not exactly subtle. She had no opportunity to learn the conniving way of high aristocracy. But Kirche struck to the heart of the issue yet still magnanimously decided to hear her out. That made the decision.
"I don't know."
"Hmm."
"Don't know yet."
"Now you got me curious."
Kirche read between the lines well enough. What Charlotte truly wanted was far more than a grand duke's daughter could grant. How intriguing. How fascinating. Kirche could not help but marvel at the girl. To think that such a thin frame concealed such a voracious appetite.
Was it wealth? Was it status? No, this little girl had no interest in such a trifle.
Gazing deeply into those blue eyes, Kirche caught a glimpse. And what she saw filled her equally with inadequacy and anticipation.
Wish.
A wish so desperate, so pure, and so far out of reach.
Kirche was no stranger to desire. She had coveted many things up till this point. But all her previous desire paled before such wish. Nothing short of death could stop Charlotte. If seeing this did not set her passion aflame, nothing would. Kirche wanted desperately to know of that wish. Even more, she wanted to see the height it would drive this little girl to.
00000
And there it is.
It might be slow going, but I want to really stress how hard-working Charlotte is. I don't want to go full training montage, but she is improving herself. She hits the gym and puts her wrist to work. Her carpal tunnel is not service related.
I want to develop the relationship between Charlotte and Kirche in a different direction. In the canon, it appeared that Charlotte tickled Kirche's motherly instinct. The way the redhead was looking out for her really sold that impression. However, Charlotte in this story is much more proactive and does not quite fit the mold of a little sister, who needs to be doted on. Her relationship with Kirche also started more unequal. So, the gel that will make them come closer had to be something different. I decided to make that awe. Kirche saw the kindling that would spread across Halkeginia. She wanted to witness it.