Chapter 130: The beast in us all.

Goetia ran his fingers along the surface of the stone.

His eyes did not part from the marks as he spoke.

"A single strike?"

Jeritza spoke behind him. "Yes."

He was marginally impressed by the damage that had been inflicted upon the wall as a result of that, but the specs of blood he had found tracing the inner lining of the gashes was enough to curb that. It might have dealt some decent enough damage, but there was little doubt in his mind that the pain was not quite worth it in the end.

Especially as he could only be left to assume how much harm had been dealt as a result.

And not purely physical.

Pulling back his hand, he turned around and faced Jeritza completely.

"What transpired?"

Jeritza watched him for some seconds before answering, some measuring spark in his eyes as though searching for a reaction. What he was looking for, Goetia did not know and did not think to look for, was evidently not found at the moment and he started to speak.

"I assigned Lysithea and her to train together." He said. "Once it became clear that there was a lack of progress on either side, I directed personally and pushed the pair of them to better results."

"Lack of progress?"

"Lysithea was using the standard pattern of attacks against Marianne to train."

Goetia nodded in assent, that would pose a problem for training. "And that resulted in the reaction from her?"

"Not initially." Jeritza shook his head. "That came later after she had been cornered. She lashed out and Lysithea avoided the blow narrowly, the girl struck the wall and dealt out the damage to it. Injuring her hand in the progress and then taking flight from the training field, Hilda joining her."

In concern, no doubt, but he was left to think of what would have occurred had Lysithea not quite avoided the strike.

He glanced over his shoulder at the gash in the stone, perhaps a centimetre deep at its thickest point and he was left with the comparison of Dimitri in terms of physical strength. Though that was unfair. He was sure the prince would have achieved a greater level of damage to the wall without suffering as much as her.

This was something else then.

"Any lasting injuries?"

Jeritza shook his head. "Exhaustion on account of Lysithea. I do not know for Marianne, yet it did not appear severe."

"Nor do the trace amounts of blood indicate serious harm, thus I shall defer to your experience as a first hand witness. The other students?"

"Concerned for the current absence of their classmate."

As expected.

"I shall deal with the matter henceforth." He informed Jeritza and strode past him.

He was very few steps away before the voice of the man carried forth behind him. "She was aiming to kill."

Goetia stopped for a moment.

"I doubt she knows it, but if she had not ducked the blow, Lysithea could have lost her throat on account of that slash. It was a rather well aimed attack."

There was an undercurrent of emotion within the mind of the man, something that swirled around within his words as he spoke. Yes, he kept them measured enough that they could well have been described as almost a warning, to himself or the students, but there was something else lingering in his mind that gave Goetia enough pause to determine there was a rather lethal level of pride in that.

Was such a thing worth showing pride over?

And where was the excitement to be found?

Once more, Jeritza was showcasing himself to be a strange individual, but so long as he kept his emotions in check and did nothing meriting his personal intervention in the matter, then Goetia would not ask further. Rather, that he had been informed of this not long after the matter had occurred was proof enough for him that there was some common sense under the bloodlust.

"I came to the same conclusion." He said in reply, then resumed walking.

He felt the stare on the back of his head all the way to the exit of the training field.

His left hand rose up and Flauros emerged from under his hair, leaping forth and landing upon his fingers, twisting around and gazing up at him, waiting for his command.

Imposing his orders, he jerked the finger and sent the bird into the air, it took flight from him and vanished from his direct line of sight after some seconds. In the same movement, he extended his senses from his current field and reached out across the length of the entire monastery.

He found nothing at first, therefore he extended his senses beyond that and into the town itself. Twitching when he discovered his target and turning on his heel, marching the way of them.

Perhaps he should have assumed as such already.

By now his grasp on their personality was enough to determine what their next course of action would be.

Claude watched with only a raised eyebrow as Lysithea tore into the baked goods.

Arms folded over his chest, he did not bother to keep the smile from his lips from forming as she became more ravenous as time went on. So focused she was that it quickly became apparent to him that she did not even notice that he was watching her and finding amusement in the way she ate.

That was probably concerning, he supposed.

But it was clear that there was something on her mind, it had been clear for a little while, especially as she was glaring as she ate, looking down at her food as though it had personally offended her.

The way she ate did little to dispel that notion.

Claude was fine with letting her do a little bit more.

Then she hiccuped.

And he laughed, because of course he was going to laugh.

Lysithea slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes flew wide and her cheeks turned bright red.

Oh she was glaring at him now, but it was hard to be intimidated by her at the best of times and now it was almost impossible because of the way she was currently hiccuping and had crumbs all over her lips. Pulling her hand away to revealed the icing covered frown and-

Claude ran out of breath and leaned forwards, catching himself on the table and wheezing, tears forming in his eyes as he struggled to contain the laughter, looking at Lysithea through a water tinged view as she had no idea what he had seen that made it all the more amazing.

"Ouch!" Her foot struck his shin under the table, jerking his knee into the underside and jolting it a little. Rapidly, he drew back his leg and felt his laughter die away. He was privately thankful for that otherwise he would probably never have stopped.

Wheezing, he plucked one of the handkerchiefs from the table and tossed it her way, making a gesture towards her face.

She eyed the handkerchief and hiccuped once more, clenching her jaw so hard that he was worried she might break it. Knowing her, she would probably prefer that to what was happening at the moment. Then she stopped, he saw her amazing little brain kick into high gear as her fingers glanced over the skin above her upper lip and under her nose.

Freezing, she drew it back.

Revealing the jam which had formed a rather cute moustache.

And she was now looking his way again with murder in her eyes.

Oh dear.

Gripping either side of the table with such force her knuckles went white, he could feel her winding up a long kick.

He held up his hands in surrender and hoped that it would be enough for her to accept he was now a downed opponent and there was no honour in striking one of those.

…Unfortunately this was Lysithea.

And she did not care.

The table thudded once more and he rolled his lips inwards to fight back the muffled grunt of pain.

"...Maybe Jeritza should be teaching you high kicks instead." He spoke through the pain, already sure there was a bruise forming under his trouser leg. "You'd certainly flourish at that, wouldn't you? I can attest to its success."

"Be quiet." She almost hissed at him but then caught herself and just sighed, wordlessly snatching up the handkerchief and furiously wiping her face clean before offering it back towards him, then stopping and taking it back and setting it down beside her. "...I'll have it cleaned and then returned."

"I don't mind doing that myself." He replied, then shrugged and smirked. "But if you want to do the work for me, then who am I to argue?"

His amazing humour failed to earn a laugh.

So he tried something else.

"I promise I won't tell his princeliness about the jam-stache."

Lysithea went bright red that time and it certainly wasn't from anger.

He jolted his chair back and glanced down, seeing the tip of her foot just shoot past the spot where his leg had been moments prior. Putting on a triumphant smirk and laughing it the way of Lysithea as her leg came back down, he slid back forwards and dropped his arms onto the table.

"Alright." Chuckling, he waved a hand back and forth. "I didn't invite you down here to tease you, sprinkles."

Lysithea looked unconvinced. "I only came because you swore to cover the cost."

"And I will." He wasn't sure what to make of the insinuation that he was anything but a man of his word. "But I was just letting you know that we are here for more than just you destroying an entire pantry worth of sugar."

Lysithea pressed down on the table and started to stand up.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" Hastily cutting in with raised hands once more, he waved her to sit back down and hoped that she would actually do it this time.

She eyed him for a moment, the warning in her eyes stronger than before, then she took a seat and folded her arms.

He supposed that he was on some very thin ice as far as jokes went, then again it was clear that she wasn't in the mood at the moment. So he could very much understand that he might have pushed a little too far. He was just lucky that she was not quite the same as her teacher, otherwise she would have erupted at him in a rather loud and very public shouting.

"So what's bothering you?"

Lysithea raised a brow. "Excuse me?"

He gestured to her. "You're worked up about something and I'm asking what's the matter. There's no tricks here, no hidden questions and no wordplays. I am asking, honest to my family, very genuinely about what it is that has you bothered."

"...I am fine."

"Physically, yeah." Claude nodded his head. "Close call, but those have happened every now and again."

He stopped and thought. "Maybe not from Marianne of all people, but I guess everyone would react differently when you come at them swinging. You can be quite the intimidating sight when you get worked up, you know?"

Pointing a finger, he wiped any smile he had on his face. "That's not a joke either, by the way. Not sure what it says that you're more intimidating to me than half the people who really should be but…well…here we are."

Lysithea raised a single brow. "That speaks volumes for your character than it does for me that I somehow strike you as intimidating."

Yeah, and she definitely wasn't currently puffing out her chest and sitting up a little bit taller in her seat right now.

Ignoring that, he tented his hands on the table and inclined his head. "So come on then. This is me being so serious that not even Lorenz could find something to complain about right now."

"Of that I am doubtful." Lysithea huffed with a roll of her eyes, then pursed her lips before she exhaled and slumped her shoulders. "...I'm annoyed."

"Mmmmh."

She glared at him for that, which was probably fair. He did make it sound like a very sarcastic hum.

"Marianne, right then and there, just proved that she is better than me at physical fighting. She carved a mark in the wall!"

"Yes." Claude nodded. "I was there. Very scary stuff. I'll need to ask Dimitri if he can do something like that…Tell him to grow out his nails and then we can compare. I'm willing to bet he could make a deeper mark in the brick than her-"

"I thought you said you were taking this seriously."

"Force of habit." He replied with a shrug of the shoulders. "But yes. I'll try not to offend but you are not a very active person. We both know that and you're not stupid enough to not notice that. Hence why Jeritza is teaching you to fight like…well…"

The right word was on the tip of his tongue, but he was quite unsure of how best to say it without really sounding as though he was trying to insult her.

Oh well.

"A cutpurse."

Lysithea blinked and looked rather surprised. "Excuse me?"

"Maybe an assassin as well." Claude went on. "But mostly a cutpurse. Ending a fight quickly with a couple stabs to the thigh or around the arms. Going for the neck as well. Really quite nasty and more suited for people who don't do long fights…really, you'd be best of learning that sort of thing from Shamir. She gives me the impression."

Now the girl opposite him was looking vaguely offended. "Are you accusing Shamir of-"

"What? No." Claude made a face. "I'm saying that she fights to end fights quickly. You know, make things quick and then move on. Teach would probably do something like that as well, but she's teaching the Blue Lions…Sparkles does the same but with magic. Just hits a guy with a magic spell and then…well…poof. Now there is a pile of dust."

And Claude had actually seen that happen.

Rather horrifying, all things considered, and very much set the tone for all future meetings.

Lysithea furrowed her brows before nodding her head. "I suppose…but that is not the point. Marianne…she could do better."

"A lot of people can do a lot of things better." Claude replied slowly. "They just aren't interested in that sort of thing."

"But she…" Visibly struggling for words, Lysithea looked as though she was going to try and strangle the air before her hands just lost their energy. Dropping down onto the table and curling up into fists. "...she just…she can do it. I know she can do it and she probably knows it as well. She could have knocked me flat on my back as soon as we started but she didn't."

"No." Claude nodded. "Because she's a quiet girl who likes to take care of horses and sometimes feeds the animals around the monastery. She's not a person who does violent things."

"Tell that to the wall."

"I will get right on that." He did not miss a beat. "Point is, do you think she was holding back because of you?"

"Maybe? I don't know…" Lysithea groaned, moving her hand and running it through her hair. She looked a bit older than she actually was now, not that he thought it was much of a compliment at the moment. "...I doubt she would even realise what she was doing until the end when I was right in her face."

Claude tilted his head. "Would you have preferred it if as soon as the training started she just threw you over her shoulder and then just never let you land a single hit? Playing around with you as though you weren't a threat?"

An exaggeration to be sure, but an amusing mental image nonetheless.

Lysithea did not share the humour, instead just scoffing. "I find that less appealing but I would have known. I would have been fine with that because…because I expected it. You are all better than me at that sort of thing. You should all be better than me at that sort of thing. You're taller, you're older."

She leaned forwards and looked hesitant for a moment, then spat out the word. "You're stronger. You're just…better at everything that I'm not. I should not be able to push someone back. I shouldn't be…"

Claude was starting to see the picture.

This girl really could not make up her mind, huh?

"...Marianne carved her fingers through a wall." Lysithea rumbled and frowned. "So why was she struggling as much as I was? At least there is something wro-" she abruptly cut herself short and drew in a sharp breath.

"...At least there is something different with me." She muttered and looked pained to make the next admittance. "At least I'm younger."

"I believe Petra is only a few months older than you."

She sent him a half-lidded glare. "She is a warrior princess from a culture that places importance on hunting."

Claude snorted. "You sound like Sparkles."

"The point-" Lysithea did not answer his accusation there. "-is that we cannot be compared. She has had the sort of training that I did not have."

"Neither has Marianne."

"She has the talent for it." Lysithea shot back. "The natural talent for it. She has to know that and yet she just…"

Claude shrugged. "Do you need to be able to carve up brick if you're feeding stray cats? Or petting horses?"

"...No."

He sighed and lowered his head. "You're jealous."

"I am not-!"

He looked back up at her with a flat gaze. "Yes you are. She's big and she's tough. Maybe you wouldn't use the strength the same way but she's not quite as bad as you are. You're small for someone your age and your stamina is atrocious. I'm not Manuela but I do watch and I do see things."

Neither of them said anything out loud after that, but Lysithea did not match his gaze for some moments.

"...But I suppose that's what eating all these sweets does to you."

He said instead.

Because he had some boundaries, she likely noticed it as well, but she said nothing more and gave no indication.

"...They're good." She argued back.

"They are." And he agreed. "But not everyone is like that. Does it really bother you that much that Marianne is doing what she wants to do rather than what she is good at most of the time?"

Lysithea went quiet.

But he had his answer.

The girl wasn't half as subtle as she might have liked to think at times and there was only one sort of thing that a girl who showed as much veiled dislike of her position would do in the future.

Well, he did get an answer at the very least and he could probably understand where she was coming from. Then again, the same would be true of most people around here. They all had something that they wanted to be doing and coming to the academy was nothing more than a means to an end.

Claude was, however, fairly sure that was how education was supposed to work anyway, so it wasn't as though it was some grand understanding.

Lysithea just grumbled under her breath. "It isn't fair…"

Now she really did sound like she was her age, but that did not make her point all that humorous.

"Probably not but there's a lot of things in life that aren't all that fair."

He was pleased with himself for not making a comment about his particular skin tone because it wasn't really about him and his experiences and, from the slightly bemused look Lysithea sent him, it was clear that the implication did not really land with her either. He doubted she would have thought of it, given that she had Goetia for a teacher.

"But I think you're being a little hard on Marianne in particular. You know she hasn't really done anything to deserve it."

Lysithea grimaced but did not argue his point, but was still clearly holding onto her feelings of jealousy which - as he understood - applied to a lot of people and a lot of things to do with health. It might have been why she was so reckless with her diet half the time which was a rather sad thought for him to have.

He tried not to let it show on his face.

"Just…" Claude shuffled and folded his arms. "...I suppose the most I can ask as a House leader is for you to be a little bit more patient with her. She's doing her own thing and it's tough for her. Being older doesn't exactly make you suddenly more mature or confident. That's the sort of thing a person needs to develop on their own."

Pointing to himself, he grinned. "Not everyone can be the pinnacle of emotional maturity and outstanding confidence like-"

Lysithea was sending him a dubious look already, which would make this next line all the funnier.

"-the illustrious, noble, and fairly amazing Prince Dimitri."

She kicked him under the table again, but he didn't mind because it was lighter than the last ones.

Then she grunted out a response. "At least you weren't boastful enough to say yourself."

Claude snorted. "I know how amazing I am without being told about it."

And then she was giving him that slightly irritated look, but it wasn't as bad as it otherwise would have been. Which probably meant he had managed to get her back into a decent enough mood. Even if he had returned to teasing her more than a little bit.

He spied something in the corner of his eye, flickering his gaze briefly to the front of the shop and through the window.

A flutter of golden, glittery hair moved away from the window and vanished from his line of sight.

Claude almost laughed at the rather obvious display, but instead kept his mouth closed and hummed to himself, looking down at the table and feeling no shortage of amusement at the current situation and how they were both rather alike. Though whether that was Lysithea rubbing off on him or the opposite, it likely didn't matter all that much at the end of the day.

It was still funny.

"Tell you what."

Lysithea raised a brow.

"How about I spar with you next time?" He suppressed a chuckle at the rather curious cycle of emotions that flooded over her face. It wasn't something he meant as a joke either, but that did not mean he couldn't have some fun with the suggestion. "Like-"

The door to the shop opened up, Claude felt his brows shoot right up his forehead as a blonde mop of hair strode into the room and quickly caught sight of the pair of them. The boy froze for a moment and then winced, clearly thinking he might have walked in on something that he probably shouldn't have done.

This was perfect.

Brilliant, one might say.

And Claude had a wonderful, amazing, splendid and dare he say inspired plan for how he would proceed.

"Hey Dimitri." He raised a hand and waved the boy over. "Come on, we were just talking about you."

Lysithea, probably not taking him seriously, just leaned back into her chair and folded her arms. Looking unimpressed as she stared at him and wholly ignorant to the blonde prince who was silently approaching their table.

"Really?" In a voice terribly flat, Lysithea looked him dead in the eye. "This right here is your problem. You show some glimmer of actual tact and skill as a house leader and then you drop all of it in favour of spinning your next joke. I am not going to be fool enough to react to it again and apparently you seem to thrive on the attention of the-"

"Am I interrupting?"

The further rant of Lysithea was cut off when she made a rather amusing choking nose and swung her head around, eyes wide and looking up at the prince.

"W-what are-how are you here?"

Dimitri blinked. "Well, I heard that you were involved in a training accident and wished to see if you were injured."

He stopped, then cringed. "I apologise for that phrasing, I mean I wished and hoped that it had not been too badly but it seems as though my concerns were unfounded…and it does explain why Goetia teleported me down to the town rather than allow me to continue on my way to the infirmary."

That last part was spoken as a quiet mutter, all while he rubbed his chin.

Claude, meanwhile, was trying to unpack the sentence but it depicted a hilarious scene.

That of Goetia teleporting back to the academy, finding Dimitri walking around looking for Lysithea, and then sending him all the way to the town and pointing in the direction of a cafe with no further context.

"I…" Lysithea coughed and sat up straighter. "I was not injured and it was more of a mishap."

Dimitri sported that winning smile of his and nodded, visibly relieved. "I could tell as much but did not wish to assume…apparently you were swinging a knife at someone and they swung back? I would not like to be the first to tell you this…but that is usually what happens in a fight."

Claude snorted and covered his mouth with his hand.

Lysithea kicked him again.

That was just blatantly unfair.

But nothing ventured and nothing gained.

"Say…Dimitri?" Claude kept his tone innocent enough, but he could tell by the little flicker in the eyes of the pair in front of him that they were already suspecting he was up to something.

Which he was.

"Lysithea was having some practice in some techniques of fighting-" He could already see the realisation come crashing down on the head of the smaller girl and the widening of her eyes and opening of her mouth was a clear indication of how mortified she was going to be. "-and I think that you would be a perfect candidate for her to spar with during the off hours when she isn't consuming library books for new insults."

Dimitri made quite the strange face, but did not look wholly against the idea.

"That…" He frowned. "...I am responsible for quite a few training accidents in the past and would certainly not wish to inflict harm by accident…"

Claude shook his head. "Shamir type fighting…actually, no, it's more like Teach type fighting actually."

Understanding flowed over the face of the prince. "Ah, I see. The nimble sort where you aim to land crippling blows quickly and with the element of surprise."

He turned and looked Lysithea over, then nodded his head. "Yes, I can see how that would be suited for her…well, I have no problems with providing her some help whenever she would ask it of me."

Claude leaned back and grinned.

His work here was done.

Lysithea kicked him under the table again.

…He was pretty sure he was bruised now.

But victory was worth a little pain.

Marianne tried and failed to keep the frown off her face.

Not much bothering with concealing her tears either.

Whether they were brought about by the events of the last hour or because her fingertips were in quite a bit of pain now and just bleeding, she was not sure it mattered all the same. Sending another glance over her shoulder to the door of her room where she could still see the shadow underneath the door frame.

Hilda was still there.

Still just waiting for her.

She had stopped knocking after the first few minutes - banging on the door and begging to be let in would be the correct way to phrase it - and had since just been standing there and occasionally speaking.

"Marianne…" Hilda spoke again, voice coming through the wood. "Just let me-huh?"

The shift in tone was enough for Marianne to tilt her head.

"Hey!" Hilda made an indignant grunt, there was a rather sudden scuffle coming from the other side of the door that had her frown deepen, raising her off hand and wiping the back of her sleeve over her eyes to remove the tears, squinting at the door and at the shadow underneath as it started to move around.

"Stop jumping in my hair and-did you just peck me?!"

Another sound was cutting through the sound of movement.

A rather high pitched sound.

Marianne knew what that noise was and quickly stood up, with furrowed brows and hesitant steps, she made her way towards the door as the sound of conflict continued. If it could be called that at all. Most of it was just Hilda giving some rather annoyed hiss and another complaint towards something, mostly of her hair.

She did sound genuinely upset.

Resting her hand on the lock, she twisted it and waited.

Clearly it had not been heard through the ruckus.

Pulling the handle, she creaked the door open just wide enough that she could peer her eye through and see what was happening on the other side of the door. Though whatever she could have been expecting was certainly not the image that greeted her when she did open the door.

Perhaps one of the most shocking sights.

That being Hilda with her hands covering the back of her neck and the top of her head trying to wave away the little flapping shape which was attempting to roost on her scalp. It was clear from the way the normally well cared for hair was all frazzled that the bird had managed to get some success in the process which Marianne could not fault.

But it…she didn't want to see this continue any further.

Either because of Hilda accidentally hurting Flauros or because of the little bird hurting her.

An accident was inevitable if this continued.

Cracking open the door just a little bit wider, she opened her mouth to speak, or make an attempt to insert herself into the midst of whatever was going on just so they would have something else to focus on beside one another.

The second she had done so, the bird shot towards her and a cry escaped her lips, ducking her head down as the little animal whistle right above her head. It did not quite register to her for a second or two, then it did and she was back on her feet and whipping her head around, already panicking about the idea of the little bird running amok in her room and flying into something and hurting itself.

Her eyes danced for the ceiling as the blur circled around over her head several times before dropping down towards the bed table and fluttering down into a comfortable landing. Hopping around back and forth, then turning its head towards her and tilting it to one side, giving another little excited cheep.

Marianne felt the invisible weight of panic loosen its hold on her shoulders.

Then she remembered the door.

It creaked behind her as it was opened up further, she could feel the stare on the back of her head.

"Marianne…I think of you as one of my best friends."

The voice was steady, but there was a slight hitch in her voice that told her Hilda was really struggling to keep it even. Very slowly, she turned around to face the pink haired girl. Whatever she was going to say died on the tip of her tongue when she actually caught sight of the state that Hilda was in.

The previous glimpse she caught hadn't been all that flattering.

And this was decidedly worse.

The hair looked a complete mess, strands of it dropping down right over her face while others were upturned and crooked, half pointing towards the sky. It rather reminded her of some sort of plant or bush than the usual style Hilda wore. Then she thought the comparison insulting and felt no small amount of shame for even making it in the first place.

Ducking her head and stepping backwards, but noting that Hilda hadn't actually come into the room yet.

Marianne waited for a moment, wetting her lips and then daring to speak.

"I…have a brush…"

She glanced up.

Hilda beamed a rather brilliant smile and strode into the room. "Thank you very much."

As the girl passed her by, she sent a sour glare towards the little bird sitting on the table.

Flauros just cheeped once more, looking rather pleased with themselves.

Marianne took that as her cue to get the brush for Hilda before the girl did something to the little bird, given how irritated she still looked. Moving across the room to the drawer where she kept it - the only brush she had for herself actually - and removed it, only to feel a weight settle on her shoulder, a quick turn of the head revealed that Flauros had decided to find a home upon her.

The expectant look made her feel a little better, more so as she reached up and moved her finger towards their head, a shift and the showing of the back of their neck was enough incentive she needed to give them a small rub. One which they seemed to find rather pleasing if the closed eyes were any indication.

Someone was staring at the side of her head.

She pulled the hand back and turned, wincing at the look that Hilda was shooting her way - or the way of the little bird - and then pouted rather deeply, folding her arms and huffing with a sour look aimed to the ground.

"They can get away with it because they're cute." Was a rather irritated grumble that was just about heard by her.

It wasn't as though that was the whole case but Marianne would not deny that it played a role in it.

But Flauros was very cute and was clearly after something.

"I think you might have startled them." She excused as she approached, Hilda gaped at her.

"I startled them?" Throwing up her arms, the girl continued. "They just flew in out of nowhere and tried to land on my head and then decided to peck my fingers when I tried to move them! I was the one who got startled there…I thought they never left Goetia's head anyway? What were they doing chasing after me?"

She paused for a moment, then blinked.

"Wait…is this because I ran out of class? Is this is what he's going to do now? Send little birds to chase me down?"

Marianne shook her head and handed the brush over. "I don't think he'd do something like that."

Hilda eyed her for a moment and then sighed, reaching out and-

Marianne's breath hitched as Hilda clasped her wrist rather than the brush and then flipped her hand over, exposing her fingertips in the process. She snapped her eyes shut to avoid looking at the expression that Hilda was making, but she could guess what it was, pulling slightly at her arm to free it.

But there was nothing that could really be done about it.

Hilda had already seen.

"...Look at your poor fingers." Hilda said in a soft tone of voice, pulling once again and this time making an effort to drag her whole body across. "Come on, take a seat down here and I'll try and save your nails…look at these cracks in them."

Marianne ducked her head low but surrendered to the movement, finding herself seated on the bed while Hilda stood up and moved across the room, guessing as much from the footsteps and the scraping noise that soon followed. Though a quick opening of the eyes revealed that it was just Hilda moving a chair.

Now seated in front of her, Hilda brought forth her arm and held it out expectantly.

Though Marianne was more staring at the little purse that was in her other hand.

She blinked twice and tilted her head.

Hilda just chuckled. "I always bring my nail kit with me to training in case something like this ends up happening…though I had nightmares about something like that happening to my nails, I never would have guessed it would happen to someone else first."

Marianne opened her mouth to apologise.

"Still, good thing that I had it, right? That would have been pretty bad if you needed to wait any longer to get this done…especially with these fingers of yours."

Hilda was frowning as she made a beckoning motion with her outstretched hand.

It was not like she didn't know what was going to happen, Hilda was obviously going to treat her hand.

But it was…

…How was she supposed to explain that Marianne didn't actually want her hand to be treated?

It was hard to explain in a way that would be understood and she knew for a fact that Hilda probably wouldn't listen to her if that was truly the case. She would probably barely get out a few words before being ignored and being helped anyway.

With great reluctance, she brought up her injured hand and dropped it down into the palm of Hilda.

If she had noticed the hesitance, she did not comment on it and instead brought the hand up and started to look over the fingers, her eyes softening all the while before she brought in a sharp intake of breath.

"That looks like it stings a little. I've had some grazes like that before…actually, did you even wash this? That wall looked pretty dirty and it's kinda old."

She hadn't really had the time.

Honestly, she was just more thinking about putting as much distance from herself and everyone else on account of the shame she felt.

With her question being met with silence, Hilda sighed and sat her little purse on her lap, flipping it open and revealing a small host of tools there. It was somewhat impressive in a strange way to see just how prepared the girl was for something like this, but it just served to make Marianne feel all the more ashamed of herself.

"How…" The words felt like lead in her throat, fighting back the urge to crawl away and hide her face. "...How's Lysithea?"

Hilda blinked. "I don't think you hit her, if that's what you're worried about and I…sort of shooed away anyone who was coming here."

Marianne blinked, Hilda huffed.

"Well, I didn't think you would have appreciated a whole crowd of people having a conversation about that right in front of your door…but given that no one really important came around to speak, it's probably fine. This sort of thing happens kind of often, doesn't it? Like that time Ignatz accidentally cut his cheek with the bow string?"

Marianne did not think that was much the same.

Ignatz probably wouldn't have died from that little accident.

…If she had been a little bit faster than Lysithea…

The thought was like a flood of poison through her head and she just folded in on herself a little bit more.

Hilda noticed it, because it was obvious.

Because Marianne, even when she tried to be small, could not help but draw attention to herself and make the whole thing worse.

The attention she did not want, the type she wished would leave her alone, was the type she had dumped on her again and again without ever being able to shake it.

Hilda was silent about it though, but there was no amount of silence that would have concealed the look that was in her eyes. The look that told Marianne that Hilda was concerned for her.

As if she was the one who deserved any of the worry.

That should have been saved for the person she almost hurt.

"Hey, don't worry about it." Hilda said with that smile she wore and with those words that were always so genuine.

Perhaps that was the worst thing about it.

Hilda really did believe what she was saying.

"It happens. A couple slips here and there, its your first time doing it so you'll be fine with it all in no time."

So she could know how to hurt people on purpose?

It was not something that she thought out loud but it was something she knew. Already she was aware of how to hurt - how to kill - and she had done it all before. She had killed people before, they all had, and she never considered how it would have been until now, but then it all came crashing down on her head.

She had never been in any real danger but she was lashing out as if she had been.

As if she was so desperate for life against a wooden knife.

It was training.

And she had nearly hurt someone over that.

She didn't want to go back and do it but she knew that she would be forced to, either by her own mind or by another. Because she did not wish to draw attention to herself.

Everyone else was doing it, everyone else didn't seem to have these problems, so what right did she have to go out of her way to make everything more uncomfortable for all of them? None at all. So she would keep her silence, as she always had, and just endure all of it until…until she didn't have to anymore.

It was only a couple of years.

She could last that sort of thing for a couple years, surely.

"I think you're lucky here."

Marianne stared.

Hilda was looking over her nails with a thoughtful face. "Most of the damage is right at the tip of them and a little bit of filing will have them nice and smooth. I can't see any real cracks that go right to the bed but…there should be a couple solutions I have for nail repair. Those are quite the big thing back in the Alliance…not sure about the Kingdom, but probably. Dorothea talked to me about all the Empire makeup and stuff."

All alone in her own little world, rambling on so innocently.

Marianne was jealous that she could be so carefree, but she just smiled ever so slightly because it felt like it was the right response to give so that Hilda didn't seem as worried anymore.

"I'm more worried about these fingers of yours though. Look at all this peeling skin and you…" Hilda trailed off and sighed. "We'll get you something or I can just find someone to heal it up."

She paused.

Marianne tensed as Hilda doubtless came to some conclusion.

"How come you didn't heal your fingers?"

She did not know how to answer.

Lie?

That felt wrong and ugly.

The truth?

Just as unappealing in her own mind because it was just begging for a reaction.

She didn't want to be seen as begging for-

"Ah, you probably just forgot in all the excitement, right?"

Hilda all but dumped an excuse on her lap and just accepted it, nodding her head up and down and believing her own words.

It was so easy and convenient for her.

So Marianne did not do anything to change her belief on why she had not bothered to heal herself.

"I think we should have another get together with Lysithea, maybe do something that she normally likes…ooooh! Maybe bake something? Though…well…"

What?

She was sure she heard wrong but it was impossible not to think as much, instead she tensed and once more went to nestle her finger into Flauros feathers, something they embraced without protest and leaned into. The comforting action slowed her just a little bit enough for her mind to catch up.

"I'm…I'm not sure Lysithea would want to be around me at the moment."

Hilda huffed. "Because of a little mistake? She'd probably be upset if you made a big deal out of it. I'd say she'd probably accuse you of trying to baby her or something along those lines. She's really touchy about her age, isn't she? And then she goes and acts her age without realising it."

Marianne didn't so much think on that as much as she was focused on something else.

She really did not want to be around Lysithea so soon after nearly hurting her in the first place.

It felt odd and wrong.

It felt disrespectful for her to just be so casually showing up too

Flauros gave a single loud cheep, their head facing the door.

Both of them turned to the bird and then to the direction they were screaming in.

There was a series of knocks, then silence.

Hilda looked at Marianne, the unspoken question on her lips.

Marianne thinned her lips, then slowly nodded her head.

"Come in!" Hilda called out.

The door creaked open ever so slightly and a head emerged from the gap.

Goetia glanced into the room, his eyes lingering first on Hilda and then moved towards her.

"How goes her treatment?"

Hilda answered. "Her nails are gonna need a bit of work done."

Goetia hummed. "Once you have finished, I was to undertake the task of feeding the many stray animals that have found a home within the monastery."

Marianne blinked very slowly at that.

"And the task would proceed at a more efficient pace if I were to have assistance in that matter. A purely optional objective for you. I will be by the ruins of the pond should you decide to join me."

He paused for a moment.

"That is all."

And then he just retreated back through the doorway and closed it behind him.

She wasn't quite sure what to say to that.

But it sounded a little more peaceful, she supposed.

"We should do that." Hilda replied. "I know you love the cats."

She did.

"And I think it would be a little funny to see him doing something cute like that." Hilda continued onwards before smiling to herself for some reason. "I know Dorothea would love to hear about Goetia feeding small animals. Do you think he'd try and meow at the cats as well?"

…Marianne sometimes did that.

And she honestly could not say.

So she just kept her silence.

She was good at that.

In the end Goetia was right where he said he would have been, a strip of cloth in his hands all bundled up and smelling vaguely of meat.

He turned his head to them before they were even able to speak in greeting, or at least something Hilda would have done.

"You can find the enthusiasm to feed strays but cannot muster the same energy for morning training?"

And just like that, Hilda froze up like a statue and just stared with wide eyes, looking visibly shocked as to how she was supposed to respond.

"Hmph, no matter." Goetia decided. "This is productive in its own capacity. Come. The cats have been congregating in one of the newly repaired sections of the monastery, east of the hall."

Moving before either of them could say anything.

Though she was more aware of the fact, by this point, that Flauros had yet to leap from her shoulder and throw themself back to Goetia. That would have been what she would have expected them to do the second they caught sight of them and yet there was nothing. The little finch just remained nestled in the spot near the crook of her neck.

Not that she wanted to draw attention to it or was complaining.

But she would admit she was a little worried about what would happen when the cats caught sight of the little bird. Now more than a little conscious about the safety of Flauros, all she could do was hope that Goetia was keeping the safety of the bird in mind.

They rounded the next corner, as he said, it was full of cats.

Perhaps a dozen of them which had once been to other sections of the monastery were all now gathered around this little spot. Marianne knew the reason for it though, a lot of those areas had been damaged and the cats had probably been frightened off. They might go back eventually, but it wasn't something that could be recovered from quickly.

Goetia stopped and turned to the pair of them, the little bloody cloth in his hands levitated upwards from his palm and folded open, revealing small strips of raw meat that looked to be off cuts at best.

But the cats would still love them, Marianne knew as much.

"We will move onto the dogs after this. Ensure the food is disrupted evenly."

He stopped for a moment and seemed to consider something.

"Though I have prepared excess in the event that you are convinced to offer more than a single portion."

Hilda giggled at that. "You mean in case they make cute little cat eyes at us."

Goetia glanced at her. "I would not have phrased it as crudely as that…but you are not incorrect. I am familiar with the phenomena, their vocal calls have altered themselves to mimic the frequency of crying infants for that precise reason."

That didn't sound true.

…Was it?

Hilda tilted her head and furrowed her brows. "Is…is that a joke?"

Goetia raised a brow. "It is not. Keep that in mind when they call you. They have learned how to draw your attention for a very specific-"

He cut himself short.

A rather loud and long meow went out, the three of them looked down.

A furred tabby was rubbing around his legs, brushing up against his black skirt and somehow failing to leave a single hair on the attire. The cat danced around him a few more times before sitting back and looking up at him, eyes glancing to the bloody cloth in the air and then back to him.

Goetia looked up and stared at them with a pointed expression.

As though to say 'like this.'

Wordlessly, he picked up a little strip of meat and then leaned down right in front of the cat.

It rather greedily snatched it from between his fingers and then scurried away with its prize, but the action was enough for the other cats to look up from where they had been. Either sleeping or grooming, the scent had roused them.

Suddenly a dozen sets of eyes were fixed on her.

And then they were moving towards them.

Marianne felt them brush up against her legs and heard their begging little cries, she could feel their desire for food and attention rather easily.

Despite herself, she felt that little bit of warmth settle in her gut and refused to move out.

She picked up some scraps of meat and started to hand them out, all while Hilda was a little more vocal in the background.

"Hey! Claws out of my socks and-oi! Don't snatch from my fingers like that."

Marianne could hear her and glanced the way of it, though despite the complaining she could see that the girl was smiling.

Which was nice.

This was calming.

Goetia was beside her before she realised it, not saying anything but just standing beside her.

It was hard to feel intimidated by him when he was in the middle of scratching a cat behind the ear, however.

Yet he just kept that stoney expression all the while, making it hard to tell if he was actually enjoying himself either.

"...If you should feel the urge to feed the strays at any point en masse, I shall set aside a time and date for you to have the means to do as such."

Marianne just blinked, opening her mouth.

Goetia cut her short. "This is a declaration, not a suggestion."

She closed her mouth and nodded her head.

Evidently she was being forced into this.

And she could not help herself, not even in this moment of serenity, from saying something that would ruin the mood.

"I didn't mean to." It was all she could manage and nothing more than a hushed whisper, the sort that Hilda would not overhear.

But he would.

Because he just seemed to know.

Goetia hummed in acknowledgement, only at first. Then he said, "I inferred as much. You do not have the inclination for purposefully inflicted violence against your peers."

He spoke like he was just brushing it away but she did not want him to do that, yet she would rarely get what she wanted in the end. She would just need to accept what it was.

"Is…Is Lysithea…?"

"She is currently fleecing Von Riegan of his earnings." It was an offhand comment which was accompanied by him feeding another cat, so random and out of place that she was rather lost as to what she was doing for a moment.

Little Harry used that as his chance to swipe an extra helping from her hand and then dart away before she could take it back or stop him.

She just sent a forlorn look his way before glancing down at the one he had stolen from.

Just for that, she gave them one of the larger pieces of meat.

Emlin was a growing girl.

She opened her mouth to speak again-

"How often do you partake in such activities as this?"

Then blinked, he had cut her off before she could say anything else but it felt rude to not answer the question.

"...A few times a week. I try to visit them at least once a day but they aren't always around when I go looking."

"Mmmm." He just hummed and handed out another slice of meat.

"Lysithea-"

"Is alive, well and uninjured." Goetia interrupted. "And your insistence on dredging the matter up continually after it has already been resolved is alarming. Are you wishing to have inflicted more harm on her?"

Marianne felt her face go cold, eyes locked onto the side of his head.

He chose that moment to turn and stare at her with a raised brow. "I shall take your horror as proof that it is not your intention. You do more harm to yourself with this behaviour. You have done nothing that is irreversible and, if the potential is what so worries you, then you can merely resolve yourself to control your reactions when in danger to avoid such lapses in the future."

It was not that easy.

Could not be that easy and the way he was just trying to sweep it away, like it didn't matter, was just…

She could not think of the word for it so she just stared in silence.

Goetia lowered his raised brow. "Humans make mistakes. They make accidents. It is common. They cause harm where it is not intended. They try again until they choose a different outcome…"

He shrugged and looked away.

"Or they repeat those mistakes. Ultimately the choice remains yours as to which you shall be…But I am far from inclined to allow the latter outcome to occur, if you are worried about such things. If you wish to control your emotions, then I might find some ways of offering aid…"

Another pause.

"Or seek out your peers for impulse control. You might find some with more experience than I."

This argument was her loss, even if she did not understand some of what he had said.

She knew, here and now, that he would not agree with her line of thinking no matter what she said.

In lieu of that…she returned to what they would both understand.

And that was feeding the cats.

…This was, at least, something she was good at.