56: Sometimes, it's better to skip Breakfast.
Putting unsettling questions to its origin aside, Gareth's cooking wasn't terrible. A bit on the bland side, but it was nowhere near some of the atrocities that came out of Emilia's pot. At worst, I'd compare it to Green Peas Day.
"And… done!" Prelati says, brushing off his hands. "The carriage is all good to go - not to brag, but my Item Creation skill is pretty terrific! This illusion ought to fool - well, if there are any fairies or clairvoyants around, it'll be useless against them, but it'll work on just about anyone else!"
"On that subject, just how on earth are you this powerful anyway?" Mozart asks somewhat sullenly. "Weren't you just some random serial killer?"
"Haha! Well, that's my legend, but in actuality, I learned magecraft from a certain batch of Lake Spirits, one of whom learned from Merlin himself. You could even think of me as a distant member of Arthur's court - you'd be wrong, but it would amuse me, so please do!" He explains.
"W-wait, do you mean that you learned from-?" Gareth starts to ask.
"Ah, actually, the experience was super traumatic, so I'd rather not talk about it if that's okay." For once, Prelati seems genuinely unsettled. "No clue how someone like Arty could handle those guys."
"...Arty?" Mash mutters.
"Hey, the Lake fairies are Sir Lancelot's family, so-!" Gareth starts to protest.
"And look how he ended up! That guy crushed your head with his bare hands - do you really think he was all there, mentally?" The Caster hisses, face twisted into a scowl. Something seems to squirm furiously in the blackness behind his eyes. "You understand he was crazy, right? Everyone on good terms with Fairies has to have lost their minds at least once or twice!"
(Mash glances at me nervously.)
"Th-that's…" Gareth flinches, averting her eyes.
"-Ah, sorry. I didn't mean to say it like that." Prelati immediately returns to his usual grin, all hatred seeming to vanish. "What I meant to say was:" He gives a shrug and shakes his head, continuing in a singsong voice. "-Look how Lancelot ended up! That guy crushed your head with his bare hands - do you really think he was all there, mentally~? You understand he was crazy, right? Everyone on good terms with Fairies has to have lost their minds at least once or twice~!"
…Oi, he just said the same thing in a meaner way.
"You just weren't satisfied with the effort you put into being an asshole!?" I shout, taking a step forward, fist clenched. And to think, for a moment I almost felt sorry for him-!
"...It's fine." Gareth says, halting my motion. "It's fine!" She says a bit louder, standing up straight. "I already forgave Sir Lancelot. Even before I had been summoned, on the throne, I already decided to forgive him, And…" She trails off, mumbling something under her breath.
"Heh. Hehehahaha! I-is that so?" The Alchemist doubles over with laughter. "Pfft… pfft… bwahahaha!" He falls even more, pounding on the ground, and then rolling back and forth on the ground spewing mocking laughter. "That's great! That's amazing, you really mean it?"
"Yes." the Lancer replies, utterly unfazed.
"Hahaha! -the… the best! You Round Table Knights, are just the best!" Prelati keeps laughing between heavy breaths, splayed out on the ground. "I love this…" he hops to his feet. "Ah, this is going to be the best adventure ever! I'm so excited, I can't wait! Quick, everyone, get in the carriage, we've gotta get moving, there's no way I can hold this excitement in otherwise!"
…Is this guy really worth having around?
As I enter the Illusion-protected carriage, it's truly infuriating that the only possible answer I can come to is yes.
"Good work, everyone - at this rate, you should reach Lyon by noon." Olga Marie says - though, her line delivery is completely unconvincing. Is she still pissed about yesterday? "Now, let's go over the plan one more time so Natsuki doesn't end up saying 'Oh right, there was something like that, wasn't there?' again."
"Hey, that's slander! I've never forgotten anything in my life!" I shout in feigned outrage, prompting an angry sigh. Come on, take the bait, take the bait-!
"Except the time that you forgot about telepathy with servants, and the time you forgot about your Mystic Code, and the time you forgot that Servants sympathize with their legends, and half a dozen other times I don't feel like mentioning!?" She shouts. Checkmate.
"Oh right, there were events like that, weren't there?" I deliver the punchline.
"..." The Director opens her mouth and closes it a few times, a small high pitched noise escaping her mouth. Mozart gives me a high five as we giggle like children.
"...In all seriousness, I do remember all of it. Sweep into Lyon, grab Siegfried, and get out before anyone realizes we were there. It's simple enough even a child could remember it, Director."
"That's right. It's such a simple plan that it's impossible to get wrong unless you do it deliberately - do you get what I'm saying, Natsuki? No side trips. Even if the enemy shows up, and is doing something awful, you're to keep your eyes on the mission. Do I make myself clear?"
For a moment, I contemplate just agreeing with her to get her off my back. But in the end, lying is bad, right?
"...I can't promise something like that, Director."
"Tch. Of course you'd say something like that." She scowls.
"Sorry for-" I cut myself off. There's no point in apologizing if I'm not actually sorry, right? No, the right thing to say here is- "Thanks for being so understanding, Director." I grin.
"Ah?" She pauses, scowl vanishing into total confusion. "You're… welcome? I mean, o-of course I am! I'm the most understanding employer in the world! Ah… good luck?"
The transmission cuts off there.
"...Well, that's not good." Prelati mutters as the Carriage rattles down the road.
"Your familiar reached Lyon?" Jeanne asks, and receives a nod in response. "What's wrong?"
"Seems like we're a bit late. Berserk Saber beat us there. I don't want to alarm you guys, but it looks pretty grim. Siegfried's putting up a pretty good fight, but… damn. There goes my familiar." He sighs.
"Berserk Saber… What do we know about him?" I ask.
"I've seen their Noble Phantasm, but it's [Fleur de Lys], so the knowledge is basically useless. They could be literally any French Noble all the way back to the Merovingians and it wouldn't be a surprise. And I'm talking any French Noble. I can't even tell whether they're a man or a woman from a glance!" Prelati sighs and kicks his legs, cheeks puffed out in annoyance. "Of course, as far as parameters go, they're a monster. No physical stat lower than B-rank. As expected of the Saber class, really!"
"...Can you describe their appearance?" Marie says suddenly, a slightly disturbed look on her face.
"Blonde hair, blue eyes, with a turquoise overcoat of some kind and a pink lily-shaped cloak." Prelati says. "I don't remember the rest too clearly…"
"No, that's enough." Marie sighs. "It is her then… d'Eon, how could it come to this…?"
"Ah, the Chevalier d'Eon. I see, I see! I guess you would recognize them, huh?" Prelati chuckles.
Marie says nothing, eyes downcast - for a few moments, after which her bright smile returns to her face. "So be it! I'll just have to pin her down and charm her until she switches sides! I love her after all, so it can't be helped."
"...Queen of White Lilies indeed." Mozart mutters with a grin, which turns to a small frown. "But, charming them to swap sides… is that truly possible, I wonder?"
Lyon is another ruin. We make our way through melted streets, and forests of impaled corpses - it seems this place was hit even before La Charite. There's not even smoke, nor a cloud in the sky. Just a calm landscape of horror, silent save for the crows, utterly at odds with the warm sunlight and gentle breeze shining on us.
"It's here." Prelati says as the carriage draws to a stop. "This is where my Familiar was when it was destroyed, so there should be some sign."
"-No need for a sign, can't you sense them?" Mozart says as the door swings open. "Right there."
He points to a corpse sitting against a building - a corpse, which slowly rises to its feet in response. She - or is it he? - is already a bloodied mess. The right quarter of her torso has been gouged out, staining the turquoise coat and white shirt a deep red. Her face is a dented mess, the left half all but flattened, eye missing. Of the fingers on her remaining hand, three are bent backwards, twitching slightly. One of her feet is twisted backwards. And yet, the Chevalier d'Eon stands, and smiles warmly.
"Ah, your Highness. Did you see it?" She asks, madness glinting in her remaining eye. "I defeated him- the Dragonslayer, Siegfried. I did what Berserk Archer, Berserk Lancer, and Berserk Avenger couldn't, and finished him off - Isn't that wonderful, Your Majesty?"
A/N:
TFW Gareth's cooking kills Siegfried indirectly. Shoulda skipped Breakfast, that hour spent cooking/eating really mattered here.
Using feminine pronouns for d'Eon because Marie would have known her as a woman, and from actual historical record that seems to be what d'Eon preferred in the latter part of her life.