"Maria, we need to talk."
"I'm not helping you marry Lady Katarina," she said instantly. "I'm not part of this nonsense, and will simply be a horrified spectator."
"That's not what we're here to talk to you about!" Lady Mary exclaimed. She pointed at herself, the two princes, Lord Keith, and both Ascarts. "Besides, all of us are here. Why would you think we're here to talk to you about m-marrying Lady Katarina!"
Maria politely ignored how Lady Mary's nose had started dripping blood as Alan handed her a handkerchief. A dark brown handkerchief, of a color that would conceal, to draw an example at random, dried bloodstains. It was still strange to her how blood dried into a strange crust instead of solidifying into coldblood, but many things were strange in this life. "I thought perhaps that all of you had concluded you could not win individually, decided you valued your friendships regardless of other matters, and decided to forge an alliance together to pursue your goal as a unified group in jolly cooperation rather than piecemeal and competing."
Nearly everyone recoiled at the suggestion save the Ascarts. Lord Nicole maintained his inscrutable helmface as always, while Sophia simply tilted her head, and blood starting trickling from her nose. Lord Keith shuddered, eyes growing distant and unfocused for some reason. """Excuse you, Maria Campbell?-!""" several people exclaimed.
"Clearly, I am incorrect," Maria said as she settled back in her chair. "My mistake. What did you wish to discuss, then?"
After the council of war had recessed to allow everyone to refresh themselves with a repast, she had been released from post of protecting the king so that she may have a meal before everyone convened once more in the afternoon. Maria sighed to herself at the time flowing past that she could be using to eat. Really, couldn't they be having this discussion over a meal? It certainly wouldn't the first time they had done so.
Instead of getting to the point, however, everyone seemed to be stuck on her statement.
"Why would you possibly think we would do such a thing?-!" Lady Mary and the Third Prince exclaimed simultaneously, their words eerily echoing each other exactly.
"What in the abyss is wrong with you, Campbell?" Prince Alan exclaimed.
"…" Lord Ascart said loudly.
"…" Sophia said, her nose still dripping blood.
"Please… stop telling me how you'd all be willing to sleep with each other to marry me…" Keith whimpered, sounding haunted.
Everyone paused and looked at Keith.
"Keith? Are you all right?" Sophia asked.
"So many… they're forming alliances… finding tastes in common… spending time together… Katarina is encouraging it…!-!-!-!-!" Keith said, shuddering. "I'm not allowed to stop smiling… my face is in so much pain… women keep trying to get me alone and have me look down their necklines at their chests… they kiss when they know I'm watching…"
Smoothly, Maria got to her feet, took two brisk steps toward Keith and placed her hand on top of his head, glowing with the eldritch radiance of Light Magic. Keith's voice trailed off as his face relaxed, and he let out a sigh, reaching up and rubbing his cheeks. "Oh, that feels so good…" he groaned. "Thanks, Maria."
"How do you feel, Keith?" Maria asked. "Do you feel any strange urges?"
"Strange urges? Well, I kind of want to not smile any more today…"
Maria nodded. "Any academic impulses? Perhaps a desire to plumb the depths of magic? Maybe an inclination to refine your dirt dolls, perhaps to some form of independent entity? A strong urge to read, perhaps from the archives of long-dead dukes or noted scholars?"
"No… I'm feeling fine, why are you asking all these—Maria, why are you holding your sword like that? Or at all?"
"I'm ascertaining whether you've gone insane. The way you curled up and started rocking back and forth was concerning."
Keith looked down and finally seemed to realize that he had, in fact, pulled his knees up to his chest. With great dignity, he lowered his feet to the floor. "Ah. Sorry, it's just… it's been a long week."
"So we gathered," the Third Prince said. Now that Keith was shown to be fine, the concern on his face became a smirk. "So, having ladies as consorts isn't doing it for you, Keith? Should we tell my Katarina she needs to go among the lords now?"
Keith bared his teeth in an expression only Katarina Claes would think was a smile. "At least my idea of flirting isn't telling girls they're too ugly for anyone else to want to marry them."
As the two began to shoot at each other, Maria smoothly got to her feet and casually began walking towards the door. She said nothing, brought no attention to herself—
—and unfortunately found the door covered in a thick layer of ice.
"Nice try Maria, but you're not getting away that easily," Prince Alan said from behind her, cutting through the bickering between his brother and Keith.
Maria sighed, and resignedly turned around to return to her chair. "I'm missing lunch. You all realize that, do you not? If my resulting Katarina-like hunger impairs my ability to protect his majesty, it will be your fault."
"This isn't the time for levity, Lady Maria," the Third Prince said. "We need to speak to you about Katarina."
Maria started to stand up again. "As I said before—"
"Oh, sit down," Mary said, looking exasperated. "This is important!"
"You say that about anything related to my squire," Maria pointed out.
"And your squire is exactly what we wish to talk to you about," the Third Prince said.
"So you have already said."
"We're not repeating ourselves. The fact that our dear Katarina is your squire is what we wish to discuss with you."
Maria became still, and her face became utterly smooth. The only betrayal of emotion was a single eyebrow rising slightly. "Oh?"
"Given the circumstances, we believe it's time that you cease letting Lady Katarina think she's your squire," the prince said.
"We get it," Lady Hunt interjected, "Lady Katarina was having fun at your place, and you were able to use it as an excuse to teach her all sort of things that admittedly she should probably have learned already—"
"Thank you for that, by the way," Lord Claes interjected.
"—but the situation has changed! It's looking all but certain that Sorcier if going to be in a war with La Sable, so people are actually going to be expecting Lady Katarina to act like a real squire. It was bad enough that you let her follow you around on that horrible night, but if you let her play at being your squire any longer, people are actually going to expect her to be one!"
"Play at being my squire?" Maria said flatly.
"Well, not play, but you can't honestly think that Lady Katarina is really squire material," Lady Hunt amended. "She's Lady Katarina! She doesn't have it in her to hurt anyone."
Not a muscle twitched on Maria's body. Her head turned slowly to face Lord Claes. "And do you share this opinion as well?"
"I just don't want sister to get hurt," he said. "Look, I know how excited Katarina was when you were commissioning her sword and armor, and clearly she's worked hard at it—it's big sister, of course she'll work hard at it—but I've seen her sword. It has no edges, it doesn't have a point… practically a toy! Why else would you get her something so useless? You know as well as the rest of us that sister has no place in any sort of real fight, much less an actual battlefield. It doesn't matter how enthusiastic she is in your training, that's just not the kind of person she it. If she stays your squire, when the war starts she'll have to go to war with you! You need to let her go or fail her or reject her or whatever it is knights do when they tell a sure they're not good enough and should stay at home."
"Yeah! Lady Katarina's natural place is at home either reading novels or working on her farm," Lady Ascart said. "Sure, maybe she can fight, but even so, she shouldn't have to! This is Lady Katarina we're talking about! You know how clumsy she is. Sure, that sort of thing is probably funny in practice, but in real life that's the sort of thing that could get her hurt or killed!"
Wordlessly, Maria turned towards Lord Nicol, daring him to say anything. His pretty face never changed, but she got the impression he was actually thinking about his response. Eventually, he said, "I'm worried about Lady Katarina. I want her to be safe."
Maria waited, but that seemed to have exhausted his store of words. "I see."
"Do you?" Lady Hunt said. "Do you really? Do you really see the importance of not letting Lady Katarina get pulled into the war where she might get hurt?"
"You have made your arguments known, and quite clearly," Maria said flatly. "Thus, I see."
"Good," the Third Prince said, smiling in a satisfied way. "Then you should probably make an announcement as soon as possible so that it's clear to everyone that—"
"Was that all, then?" Maria said, getting to her feet. "If so, then I must be on my way. As I said before, I must partake of my repast so that I am sufficiently prepared for my duties this afternoon." Not waiting for an answer, she bowed, stiff and formal as was her habit. "Good day to you." She turned and strode towards the door. The ice slid out of her way, unbarring the door as she reached for the door knob.
"Don't forget to tell dear Katarina so she can stop being so—"
Maria pushed the door open, striding out with firm, forceful strides and leaving the portal ajar behind her. She didn't trust herself to close it.
"What was she so mad about?"
"Well, she does kind of need to eat so she can protect my father, Sophia, and we just cut into that time, especially since she still needs to get to the dining hall…" she heard the Fourth Prince respond to Lady Ascart's question.
Not Sophia. Not right now.
Maria was far too enraged.
The implicit insult to her honor, to her skills and her ability to teach those skills rankled, but it was nothing compared to the sheer anger she felt as hearing her squire's work and efforts so thoughtless disregarded. Letting her think she was Maria's squire? Playing at it? No place in a real fight, when she had… just last week… Claes had been there to see his sister…! Tell her she's not good enough and should stay at… at…! Clumsy?-! Funny?-! There was nothing laughable about—!
Maria forced herself to calm down lest she spontaneously become some sort of demon of hatred where she stood, but each angry footfall as she walked—not even really trying to head towards the dining hall, but instead simply trying to put distance between herself and her… friends… lest she do or say something regrettable—seemed to redouble her anger even more with every step. How dare they speak of her squire so, as if all that Katarina had endured had simply been fun and games, some sort of childish whim that Maria had been indulging! How dare those ignorant, pampered… casuls sit there and speak as if they knew anything of what her squire (!-!-!-!-!) had endured at Maria's hands! They had no right to impugn her squire's character so!
She did not scream. She did not rage. Maria did not slam her fist into the nearest stone wall, nor give voice to her feelings in any way. With effort, will, and stubbornness, she coldly buried the frenzied flame of her rage, and forced herself, against her every impulse, to consider their words not only rationally, but also from their own perspective. Their shallow, ignorant, foolish, stupid rat bastard—their perspective. Of course they thought that Katarina would be unsuited for the rage of war, that the most logical thing to do would be to get her to pack up and go home by having Maria tell her that her training was through.
And despite herself, despite her own confidence in her squire's abilities… a tiny part of Maria, the one that still vividly remembered the moment she realized that Katarina Claes was an idiot, even if she had revealed herself to be more than simply that, couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe… they were right.
It was a vile, treacherous thought, but as with all treason, it had found purchase in cold reason and calculation. Because for all that she knew that Katarina Claes did not simply play at being Maria's squire, that her squire hadn't chosen to walk this path simply for 'fun', that she had made this choice with both eyes open and had remained unbowed through all that Maria had been putting her through… the treasonous thought remained.
That Katarina Claes might have no business being in a war.
It was a terrible, insidious thought, one that had no place in the pride she had felt in seeing her squire try so hard and go so far. Maria knew how much Katarina had worked every day, how diligently the young woman had learned her lessons and done her drills.
Yet the vile thought remained. And it wouldn't go away.