Heroine? Saint? No I'm an All-Works Maid (And Proud of It)! Vol 5

Prologue

OUR STORY BEGINS ON AUGUST 31ST—though, really, if you believed the clock, it was already September. While the Summer Ball continued in relative tranquility elsewhere, the powers that be convened to speak on a most important matter, a matter of security.

For you see, monsters had appeared within the capital itself.

“I, Vice-Chancellor Cloud Leginbarth, shall preside over the night’s deliberations. His Lordship, the lord chancellor, will provide a summary of events.”

Marquess Georic Reclentos stood at the count’s cue. “The victims of the attack included my own son, Maxwell Reclentos; his partner, Lady Luciana Rudleberg; and the pair joining them, Sir Lectias Froude and Cecilia, a young commoner. Including the coachman, there were five people present at the time of the ambush.”

The room stirred at news of the involvement of the lord chancellor’s firstborn. A sharp look from His Lordship quickly returned the room to silence.

“According to my son,” Georic went on, “he and his party heard a lupine howl while aboard a carriage bound for the Rudleberg estate. Upon inspection, they discovered no less than five intruders from the Great Vanargand Wood—stalker wolves—hunting them. The wolves attacked at once, assaulting the driver. Fortunately, a skilled combatant from House Rudleberg sensed something amiss and rendezvoused with the carriage. The coachman yet lives.”

“A skilled combatant? Of House Rudleberg?” Murmurs rippled anew.

Long now had trouble nipped at the Rudlebergs’ heels. Ever since the Spring Ball, their first and only daughter, Luciana, lay at the center of some commotion or other. It was common enough for whispers about the infamous house to swirl, but the distinct absence of that reprehensible epithet on anyone’s lips was indeed odd. The patriarch of the Ignobles, however, was not present tonight. Though a count, a respectable rank by any measure, he was new to the Royal Chancery, and that did not confer the requisite prestige necessary to attend such a gathering. Doubtless, even if he had come, Hughes would have scurried home upon hearing what had become of his daughter.

“According to those present, one of the wolves survived what should have been a fatal injury,” Georic continued.

Yet more murmurs. An attendee posed the obvious question. “The guard. Was he a mage?”

“Weapons were appropriately charged with mana, yes.”

“What are we to make of this, then?”

“That these stalker wolves were impervious to conventional attacks, even those utilizing magic.”

“Ridiculous!” an attendee blurted.

“I’ve heard better lies from merchants!” blustered another.

“These reports are erroneous.”

Many more protests of a similar nature rose from the nobles. Vanargand was indeed great—the greatest blightland in all the world, in fact—but monsters invulnerable to magic? That would be a like a flame impervious to water.

“Silence!” roared the king. The clamor quieted to reverence at His Majesty Garnard von Theolas’s bellow. “Proceed, Lord Chancellor.”

“Your Majesty. The monster, thought slain, rose to its feet and regrouped with its pack. Here I have one of the two weapons the assailed used to defend themselves, a ceremonial silver blade, stowed in the carriage as a mere charm for safe passage.”

“A silver sword. Ceremonial. Not even meant for use?” one of the lords scoffed.

Another said, “I’ve heard of no such practice.”

It seemed their peers hadn’t either. Georic stifled a scoff of his own. I’m perplexed myself.

“Three of the five victims fought back, including my son, the Rudleberg guard, and Sir Lectias Froude,” he continued. “The commoner, Cecilia, illuminated the battlefield with her spellcraft, offering them a substantial advantage.”

“Three men against five monsters from the Wood? Preposterous. And Sir Froude was unarmed, for heaven’s sake!”

“It’s not so far-fetched.” A noble countered the contrarian. “The boy may be new to his blue blood, but he earned his knighthood for slaying a stray beast that slipped by the sentries at Vanargand. A born fighter, that one.”

It seemed there’d be no quelling the disruptions, not after an event as unprecedented as this. Speculation buzzed on the tips of everyone’s tongues.

An attendee raised a hand. “Lord Chancellor, if magic was ineffective against the stalker wolves, what became of them?”

“Forgoing details, they were defeated,” Georic replied.

“Without magic?”

“We can say nothing definitively save that the lashes left by this blade were the only ones that made the beasts bleed. Silver infused with mana, it seems, was the key. Not a single wolf escaped alive.”

“Weapons of silver,” one lord sneered. “It’s absurd.”

“Frankly, I’ll take this information as a stroke of good luck,” his neighbor said.

“Then you’ll be happy to front the costs of mass-producing these weapons? To say nothing of the practicality of such a metal.”

“Lord Chancellor, it seems to me that if fortune does indeed favor us, she smiles upon you in particular. T’would appear your charm served its purpose in ensuring your house’s safety.”

“Yes,” the marquess replied plainly. “It would.”

He recalled his son’s words. A “family tradition,” he’d said. “A sword for every carriage,” Maxwell had claimed, and with the most innocent of smiles.

We have no such tradition, Georic thought. That can only mean Maxwell placed the sword in his carriage in advance, which would imply he had prior knowledge of the attack. That he would lie to me in such a way, knowing he couldn’t possibly fool me… My son, what manner of secret are you hiding?

The marquess doubted not the veracity of Maxwell’s report, but it was a simple thing to surmise there was more to it than met the eye. His son was keeping something from him, something damning, or perhaps simply unbelievable.

Mistrusted by my own son. Georic chuckled to himself, amused. How quickly they outgrow you.

“Following the monsters’ defeat, Reclentos knights arrived at the scene and escorted the affected parties home. My son hurried to the palace and relayed the information I have just shared with you all. This concludes the incident and brings us to the present.”

“Very good. Have it written up and officially archived,” the king ordered.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Georic bowed. “Archmage Sven Shaykrode, the assembly would hear your findings.”

“Of course.” Sven stood from his seat at the king’s side. “Doubtless this comes as news to no one, but since our realm’s founding, our great wall of stone has ever sheltered us from the creatures of the blight that roam the Great Vanargand Wood.”

Paltescia, the royal capital of Theolas, sat precariously near to the world’s largest blightland, which was a testament not to foolhardiness but rather to the defenses the city boasted. A massive bulwark had towered here since time immemorial, its exact construction date obfuscated in the historical record. It ran north to south, safeguarding the residents of the city from the evils of the neighboring Wood. Historians deemed it an anomaly, and many believed it might even predate the kingdom itself.

An ocean cloistered the Great Vanargand Wood to the south and east. To the north, the river that stymied the Rordpier tide took on that task. The wall to the city’s west sprawled the entire length of the landmass from empire to ocean, and it was thanks to this mysterious monolith that the residents of Paltescia lived in relative safety. It was thick enough for three men to stand comfortably shoulder to shoulder atop its battlements and taller than those men stacked atop each other. For those on the civilized side, the only glimpses they had of the looming doom opposite them were the canopies of ancient trees. And they liked it that way.

The denizens of the Wood were fierce. Not even a knight of the realm was allowed to set foot in that place. They could only ever keep watch, a perpetual vigil made from atop their stony protector, praying the sleeping giant did not stir.

In some ways, the capital’s nearest forest was actually the farthest. None were allowed entry, not even to gather ingredients, not even on a budget. No one!

“A breach or two every few years or so is normal,” the archmage went on. “These incidents are always caught early and swiftly resolved.”

The wall from which the Theolans monitored their friendly neighbor served more than a physical purpose. Within its enigmatic depths lay a room bearing a certain magic sigil. This sigil was the spell that powered the detection field that alerted the Theolans to any movement into or out of the Wood. This, too, had seemingly existed for as long as the wall itself, and the warden of the sigil was the archmage himself, a duty passed down through generations innumerable, a difficult one that required great talent and great stores of mana that only the kingdom’s most arcanely gifted could hope to shoulder.

Thanks to both the careful, ceaseless watch of sentries and the meticulous monitoring of the archmage, breaches were a rarity, and even if one occurred, they very seldom escalated into noteworthy incidents. It had all become very routine, and that made the recent affair all the more astonishing. It should have been impossible for monsters to appear in the heart of the city without any warning whatsoever. As the detection field could only be attuned to, and thus monitored, by one person, Sven had much to answer for.

“To the point,” he said, “my magic detected nothing out of the ordinary. The detection field was silent, and no guards have reported sightings of stalker wolves escaping past the wall. Granted, few would notice such a thing under the cover of night.”

“Is there any chance of you simply missing an alarm?” an attendee asked.

“I considered that, which is why I hurried to the sigil forthwith, and the records confirm that the field detected nothing. I can say with certainty that nothing passed through that field tonight.”

“What you mean to say is you and the watchmen both, simultaneously, failed in your duties,” someone said.

“The question is how they managed to escape our watch,” said another.

“Could they have come across the river? Or perhaps from the sea?”

“Someone ought to have seen something so peculiar.”

The assembly devolved once again. All of this implied the existence of beasts they could not be felled by ordinary means, beasts that could slip into the city unnoticed, bypassing every fortification and safety measure. With the realm’s security in question, chaos was an inevitability.

“The watchmen have reported their own findings,” Sven continued, “and they report no anomalies with the wall. Other monsters have behaved in typical fashion, those who draw near quickly losing interest and returning to the Wood.”

The wall, many theorized, had a tertiary function—natural monster-repelling properties, which would explain why the beasts seemed discouraged anytime they approached and why even airborne fiends never tried to soar past it. Unfortunately, the mechanisms by which this might be possible were still poorly understood by modern arcane studies.

Large, black double doors stood on the Paltescia-facing side of the wall. Grand and metallic, no one had ever opened them. Not in the present day nor, according to extant records, in recorded history. There was a hole of some kind on the exterior, presumably meant for a key, but no one had yet discovered such a key. It didn’t help that few were motivated to punch through their own defenses, and this disinterest extended to the monsters as well, who seemed especially repulsed by that section of the wall, refusing to so much as attempt to approach it.

The wall was almighty and impenetrable. Except when it wasn’t. There were always intrepid exceptions. These stalker wolves were surely just another example of that.

“Nothing more to report,” Sven concluded.

“Thank you, Sven. See that your findings are archived as well,” the king said. “Continue your investigation of the field.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Sven retreated with a bow.

Garnard nodded firmly, then cast his stern gaze over the attendees. “We are facing more than rumblings of instability, and not just within Paltescia but also all of Theolas. Conduct yourselves with the appropriate prudence.”

The assembly briefly boomed with loyal affirmations.

“I want the streets surveyed for potential threats. Every street. The entire city. Beasts do not discriminate based on blood. This is a threat to all life, highborn and low. Solicit the citizens’ aid if need be. See it done.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” The knight captain’s head dropped low.

“Should our coffers suffer, our lives will soon follow. Minister, confer with the Commerce Guild. Do what you can to ensure that trade does not slacken for this crisis. Consult and discuss.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty,” the minister of finance replied. “Lord Saison, contact the guildmaster as soon as we are adjourned.”

The portly man chortled. “It shall be done.”

The king next addressed the minister of foreign affairs, as the money-minded convened. “I entrust you with informing Princess Ciestine of the night’s affairs. There’s no sense in attempting to hide the unavoidable, doubly so if we’re to take the Rordpiers at their word about improving relations, ulterior motives notwithstanding. In any case, we owe it to her to be honest. Just how honest, I leave to your discretion.”

“I aim to please, my liege,” the handsome minister replied. His smile, warm and inviting, was misplaced in this den of anxiety.

“Headmaster,” Garnard boomed next.

“Majesty.”

“My sincerest apologies, but you will have to delay the coming semester at the academy until we can ensure the safety of the students. We may pick a date to resume classes at another time. Make the necessary adjustments to your curriculum.”

“It is for the best. I shall inform the students, but what of Princess Ciestine? Shall I send word myself?”

“Better it be the minister of foreign affairs.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” the minister chimed in. “I’ll see the news reaches her, Lord Ardora.”

“I would be much obliged.”

The king nodded again, satisfied. “Lord Chancellor, coordinate with the ministers to see to it that we consolidate and thoroughly record everything we’ve discussed here.”

“I shall, Your Majesty,” Georic replied.

Regal and imposing, Garnard regarded the entire assembly. “I will not have blood in my streets. Any harm that comes to our fine city is a scar upon our entire realm. Know this and observe caution in all things.”

Another resounding roar of loyalty.

“This assembly is adjourned,” Cloud announced.

“Sven,” His Majesty said as the formalities dissolved. “With me.”

“Majesty.”

The archmage followed his liege out of the hall. They came to the king’s private chambers, where Garnard dismissed all others, leaving just him and the mage.

He sank onto a sofa, his mask slipping ever so slightly. “No response from your field. None at all. How is that possible?”

“I failed you, Your Majesty.”

“Spare me the theatrics. Blame will not save us from the present situation. Investigate this anomaly as I have ordered, and we will find a solution.”

“Of course.” There was an unnervingly long moment of silence. “W-will that be all, Your Majesty?”

“Spring. Do you recall what you reported to me last spring?”

“Spring? Yes. You refer to the intruder I detected.”

“You remember. Good.”

“I considered it as well, Your Majesty.”

Their eyes met. They were of one mind.

“It was some time before the Spring Ball when you brought word to me of someone entering the Great Vanargand Wood,” the king said.

“And from the air no less, according to my readings,” Sven said. “My theory is they bounded in.”

“Is it related, do you suppose?”

“Perhaps. I’ve sensed nothing since that initial entry. Not even an exit. Which is to say this individual may very well still be there now, plotting something.”

“If they haven’t perished.”

“Assuming they haven’t, it’s possible they’re a skilled spellcaster. In which case, it isn’t entirely unthinkable that they might have nullified my field and orchestrated tonight’s attack via some form of magic.”

“A disquieting thought.”

The king furrowed his brow in restless contemplation, casting his eyes toward the dark night beyond the window. Sven joined him in his anxious gazing.

If the intruder truly is the mastermind behind what happened tonight, Garnard thought, a foray into the Wood is an inevitability. That accursed, untrodden land of death not even our ancestors dared set foot in…

A thick, stifling air suffused the king’s chambers, grim and sobering. Reality often was. Ironic that this was the exception. The only plot on this devious intruder’s mind was what to cook for dinner tomorrow.

Chapter 1:
Melody’s Metamorphosis

SEPTEMBER 3RD DAWNED UTTERLY ORDINARY in the Rudleberg household. Melody and Micah bustled about the kitchen bright and early.

“The water’s boiling now, Miss Melody.”

“Thank you, Micah. Keep an eye on the soup while I start on the tea, would you?”

“Can do! I can even taste-test if you like.”

“Okay, but just one spoonful. Silly girl.”

“Yippee! Mmmh, delicious!” Micah beamed in delight.

Melody cast her pupil a warm look before beginning the tea brewing process. Steam quickly started to billow from a small pot of water. The secret to her technique lay in the movement of the leaves, in making them “jump” about inside the water, thus circulating them and extracting more of the flavors and aromas that made her tea so delectable. But it was a delicate process. The best circulation occurred in highly oxygenated water, but the window for best results was brief. A fast, rolling boil was ideal, one left to bubble for some dozen seconds or so, but not a moment more.

The piping liquid went swiftly into a teapot (pre-warmed, of course, and filled with leaves). Setting the lid on it and trapping the oh-so important air that aided the “jumping” process, Melody twirled her finger and spoke the magic words. “Insulate and protect—Armatorante.”

A subtle yet crucial effect. With that word, she’d surrounded the teapot in a thin layer of air. The thermal conductivity of stagnant air was very low, which was why windows were often made layered with a thin gap between panes of glass to enhance the insulation. In short, Melody had ensured the pot would not cool overly quickly. She nodded, satisfied with her work.

“Old habits die hard, eh, Miss Melody?”

“Ack!”

Micah eyed her teacher in exasperation, her umpteenth spoonful of soup already past her lips. “Aren’t you going to the academy soon? Seeing you throw spells around willy-nilly is not doing much for my confidence in you.”

“I know. It was a lapse in judgment,” Melody whimpered. “It’s just so much better than tea cozies.”

A tea cozy was a kind of fabric cover that went over a teapot, insulating it to keep in the heat and safeguarding the taste buds from a lukewarm tragedy. Armatorante was a spell of Melody’s own invention, from the maid magic branch of thaumaturgy, meant to render such baubles obsolete. It also doubled as an excellent way to stay warm in the winter and cool in the summer, if the subject didn’t mind the minor side effect of suffocation. Unfortunately, coating humans in an impenetrable layer of unmoving air wasn’t conducive to breathing.

What it doubled as excellently, though, was a perfect way to murder someone. Oh, the dark underbelly that was Melody’s miraculous maid magic.

After the leaves had steeped for several minutes, Melody stirred the brew gently with a spoon to further homogenize the liquid, then transferred it through a strainer into yet another pot (also pre-warmed, of course). If she did not separate the liquid from the leaves, the tea would never stop brewing, gradually becoming more and more bitter, and though some unique individuals liked that just fine, the Rudlebergs were not among them.

“There we are,” Melody said upon completing the meticulous task.

“The soup tastes good too!”

“Excellent. I’ll just take those sips you pilfered out of your breakfast, if you don’t mind.”

Micah sputtered. “But I do mind! I’m sorry! Anything but that!”

“Then let’s learn from our mistakes, hm?” Melody replied with a giggle. She did find her youthful companion terribly endearing.

“Gentlesister, I’ve cleaned the estate,” announced Serena as she entered the kitchen.

“I’ve finished my patrol,” Rook added, “and polished His Lordship’s shoes.”

The guardsman served not only as the estate’s sole security but also as a valet-in-training. Shoe-shining was a quintessential task for the latter. Serena, meanwhile, had rendered the estate spotless all by her lonesome, and in seemingly no time at all.

“Good work,” Melody said. “It’s only because of the both of you that I can focus on my own tasks free of worry. Though I wouldn’t have minded if you’d left a little cleaning for me.”

“I would be happy to trade duties tomorrow, Gentlesister.”

“Oh, that would be perfect!” Melody clasped her hands in glee. Had anyone ever created a sister as perfect as she? Melody thought not.

Rook crossed his arms. “What next?”

“Right, yes. You and Serena bring His Lordship and Her Ladyship their morning tea, and don’t forget to dress them.” Melody handed Serena one of the tea sets she’d prepared. For indeed, this whole time she’d been brewing not one, but two pots of tea!

“Right away, Gentlesister. Rook, I trust you need no assistance with His Lordship?”

“No,” the valet-in-training replied.

Truthfully, he was still very new to the job, and his skills remained unpolished. Serena had taken over much of his instruction. It was a slow and steady process.

“I wish our lord and lady would consider separate chambers. Spare us the trauma.” Rook sighed, a veritable cascade of emotion for someone as stoic as he.

Serena could only grin wearily. “Her Ladyship is loath to utilize her own chambers, yes. She’d rather spend her nights with her husband, though I certainly understand the frustration of having to wait for her to leave every morning.”

“It isn’t our place to pass judgment on our master and mistress for their private inclinations,” Melody said primly. “It’s unique challenges like these that are the spice of any servant’s life, you know.”

Serena smiled. Rook snorted.

“It is too early for this kind of talk!” Micah protested. “Miss Melody, what about us? What’s our job?”

“Of course. My apologies. There’s nothing that gets my maid blood pumping more than an eccentricity or two! Right. Well, I’m going to serve this last pot of tea, if you’ll continue to see to breakfast, Micah.”

“Can do! A garnish here and there is all it needs anyway.”

“Then we all have our jobs.”

The retinue sounded off in understanding, then departed with bows. There was no official hierarchy among the Rudlebergs’ servants, but no one questioned that Melody was the de facto housekeeper.

Her wagon in tow, Melody set off for her lady’s bedroom.

“Good morning, my lady.”

“Morning, Melody,” Luciana mumbled through a yawn.

Melody gently placed a cup of that rigorously concocted liquid into Luciana’s barely functional hands. One sip, and the drowsiness visibly drained from the young lady’s eyes.

“Wow, that’s bracing.”

“I found mint in my usual forest, so I wanted to try an infusion of sorts. Is it to your liking?”

“It’s different, but I like the way it soothes the throat.”

“I’ll keep it in my back pocket then. If the craving ever strikes you, simply say the word, my lady. It takes only a drop of oil.” Melody smiled, displaying the bottle of mint oil in question. As she was wont to do, she had greatly downplayed her own feats. Extracting oil from mint leaves required a technique known as steam distillation, which utilized specialized equipment—equipment the Rudleberg estate was, needless to say, not equipped with. Melody’s solution, as ever, was magic.

“It sure got me wide awake.”

“I’m pleased you like it. Shall we ready you for the day?”

“Yes, please!”

And so their morning routine began. As Melody dressed her, Luciana spoke. “You’re visiting House Leginbarth today, is that right?”

“Indeed. My interview with His Lordship is today.”

Not so long ago, while they were on their way back from the Summer Ball, monsters assailed Melody and Luciana’s carriage—monsters from Vanargand, no less, who had no business whatsoever venturing so deep into the capital. If it weren’t for Maxwell, Lect, and the timely assistance of Rook—joined by Grail, of course—things could have taken a deadly turn. They’d survived the encounter, but it had irrevocably shaken Melody’s trust in the city’s safety.

Here arose an issue. She couldn’t follow her lady into the academy to ensure her well-being because she was a servant. If Luciana faced more danger, Melody wouldn’t be there to come to her rescue. Coupled with the maid’s failure to protect her mistress at the Spring Ball despite her powerful defensive charms, Melody was fraught with worry.

A solution came to her in the form of an invitation. Recalling an offer from Lect’s brother, Lyzack, Melody made a bold decision to apply for admission into Royal Academy as her alter ego, Cecilia, so that she might be forever at her lady’s side.

It’s inelegant, but my magic is the only thing that can affect the dark mana, she thought. When the devil drives, needs must.

That strange, dark mana made creatures impervious to normal attacks, even magic, transforming what would have been simple fodder for the likes of Lect and Rook into invincible opponents. Silver, evidently, functioned as a suitable substitute, but that was hardly reliable in the event of a mass attack like the one that night. Melody had had to use the Argento Brezza spell, sweeping away the mana enshrouding the monsters, just to turn the tides.

Melody had promised Serena, her mother, that she would become the world’s most perfect maid, and to her, ensuring her lady’s safety was part and parcel of that dream. To say nothing of how personally distraught she would be should Luciana come to harm.

Dressed in her short-sleeved dress, the lady asked, as Melody brushed her hair, “Is that man coming to fetch you this afternoon?”

“That man has a name, my lady. I urge you to refer to him as Sir Lectias, or Sir Froude at the very least. I taught you better than that.”

“He didn’t even come to your defense when you were so rudely insulted at the ball. As far as I’m concerned, he should count himself lucky I consider him a man at all. I’ll be cordial in public, but it’ll be a cold day in hell before I forgive his misdeeds.”

“You are an opinionated woman, my lady.” Melody sighed. Luciana always got so huffy whenever the conversation turned to Lect.

At the Summer Ball, their group had been introducing themselves to the night’s special guest, the empire’s second-born princess, Ciestine van Rordpier, when Melody (moonlighting as Cecilia) went utterly ignored. Lect hadn’t spoken up to defend her dignity, but then again, neither had anyone else.

Anyone else.

“Come to think of it, my lady, you didn’t say anything at the time either.”

Luciana sputtered and blubbered. “I-I was beside myself! I didn’t know what to say! Or how to say it!”

“I’m so hurt. Abandoned by my own mistress.”

“I’m sorry, okay?!” Luciana, unable to endure Melody’s tearful tone, whipped around and clutched her. “I’m sorry, Melody!” She buried her face in Melody’s dress and wept.

Melody needed a moment to collect herself after such a blatant overreaction, but quickly replaced her perplexed expression with a saintly smile. She stroked Luciana’s hair. “I can feel your sincerity, my lady. I forgive you.”

“You do?!”

“I do. So I ask that you extend the same courtesy to Lect, who you’ll recall also apologized.”

Luciana growled at that. “Fine.” Her scowl spoke to immense reluctance. “I’ll let him off the hook for that, but I still hate his guts! I’m not calling him by his name!”

“My lady. Really?”

“Really! I’m not doing it! Even for you!”

Sir Gutless can have Melody over my dead body! she declared silently. I don’t care how madly in love he is, that spineless wimp better keep his hands off our angel. Get outta here with that!

It was a good thing Luciana said such things in the privacy of her own mind because Melody would doubtless have had words about her unique choice of phrasing. The Jealous Witch stayed true to her name indeed.

“By the way, I heard you invented a bit of magic that turns you into Cecilia?”

“I have,” Melody replied, redoing the hair her lady had ruined in her hysterics. “Paula and I cooked up a brand-new spell for my maid magic repertoire yesterday when I went to visit. We thought being able to swap identities on a whim might be handy if I’m to attend the academy.”

“That sounds so cool! You’ve got to show me!”

“Right now? I suppose there’s no reason I couldn’t.” Melody retreated from Luciana a few steps, and with a casual cadence chanted, “Illusion theater—Teattrice.”

“Wow!”

In an instant, but distinctly not a flash, Melody was enveloped in white, and her form began to change. Quietly and without flair—that is to say, discreetly—she transformed, her hair spilling from its bun, her uniform billowing and shifting like water. The entire process took not five seconds. When it ended, the comely Cecilia stood before Luciana with her trademark golden hair, dressed finely but not extravagantly, as one might expect of a merchant’s daughter. Her hair was less elaborate, and her makeup was lighter, but this was indeed the girl who had graced the Summer Ball just three nights prior.

“How do I look?” she asked. “It’s a simple mishmash of Arcobaleno to dye my hair and eyes coupled with Ricucitura, which handles the dress part of the spell.” She gave a twirl that seemed to strike Luciana dead. “My lady?”

“How can this be?”

Worry crept into Melody’s mind. Her lady was clearly shaken, but by what? Had she overlooked something? Perhaps. But not in the way she expected.

“What happened to the tantalizing titillation?! Where’s the sensuality from before?!”

“I’m sorry?”

“Paula!” Luciana wailed. “How could you do this to me?!”

“What in the world has she done to earn your ire?!”

The white enveloping Melody’s body during the transformation was Arcobaleno’s doing, and Luciana astutely cursed Paula’s name for its inclusion. It had indeed been her idea, once she rejected the original rendition of the spell. Melody, utterly oblivious to the skin parade her lady lamented, could not fathom the depths of her sadness. Would context help? Doubtful.

Chapter 2:
Trepidation

“VERY NICE, MISS MELODY! I LIKE IT!”

“I appreciate you saying so, Micah.”

“I liked the old sequence, personally,” Luciana grumbled. “I feel robbed. Oppressed, really. As if society has deemed illicit what once was free.”

“You really sound like a lecher sometimes, Lady Luciana.”

“M-Micah! Take that back!”

After calming a hysterical Luciana, Melody found time for breakfast, but her new transformation quickly overwhelmed the conversation at the dining table. Before she knew it, she was back in her lady’s room, putting on a show for the other women in the retinue.

“You look lovely, Gentlesister,” Serena said.

“Thank you. Do you think it’s appropriate for visiting the Leginbarths?” Melody had no interest in Luciana and Micah’s censorship debate.

The transformation had turned her maid uniform into commoner’s garb, inspired primarily by the fashion seen in the inner quarter of the Lower District. She certainly made a far less striking impression than when outfitted for a ball, but her hair shimmered brilliantly, and a modest touch of makeup would distinguish her to the average eye well enough.

She twirled. Serena tapped her chin as she examined the ensemble. “The outfit will do, I think. Cecilia is meant to be a plain girl of rural, remote origin, so flourishes would be uncharacteristic. And you aren’t meeting the count in any public or formal capacity, so I would say you look sufficiently sharp.”

“That’s a relief.”

“That said, it might do to fancify your hair a little.”

“My hair?”

“Oh, I agree!” Micah chimed in. “I was just thinking she looks too much like Miss Melody when she’s not in uniform.”

“Now that you mention it…” Melody thought back to her most recent, and begrudgingly taken, day off. At work, she always wore her hair up, but that day, she’d let it down. She’d worn plain commoner’s garb as well. No other embellishments. Minimal makeup. Zero accessories. Truly au naturel. Cecilia’s current silhouette was a carbon copy. “You might be right.”

The change of hair and eye color ought to do the job, she thought. But one can never be too careful. I’ll regret not taking extra precautions if someone sees through my disguise.

Exposing her identity meant exposing her magic, and that would spell the end of life as Melody knew it. She could say goodbye to her dream, and as much as she cared for Luciana and her safety, there were some things she simply couldn’t sacrifice. No one at the academy would see Cecilia and think, “Melody on her day off,” but better safe than sorry and all that.

“But how to style it?” she mumbled to herself.

Luciana’s eyes gleamed. “Wavy is best, I say! You could match with me! Wouldn’t that be cute?”

“Now isn’t the time to pull punches,” Micah said. “I vote for pigtails like mine. Then no one will recognize her.”

“Pigtails on a girl like you is one thing, but Cecilia’s a grown woman. She would look ridiculous,” Luciana retorted.

“And you going to school with matching hair isn’t?”

Luciana hummed. “Then what do you suggest? Maybe we stick with the way it was at the ball? It certainly left an impression.”

Melody let the girls debate while she pondered the quandary herself. She’d studied fashion during her pursuit of all things maidly, but she faltered whenever the subject was herself.

Serena approached with a grin. “The academy is no ball. You would stand out terribly, and not in a good way, should we apply ourselves in the wrong areas. It’s all in the details. A twist here, a loop there… And just like that, she’s adorable.”

The others ceased their deliberations at once to oooh. Melody studied herself in the mirror and felt the two simple braids hanging by her ears.

“Discretion is doubly important if you’re to protect our lady,” Serena said. “This is enough to obfuscate your identity without drawing too much attention, I think.”

“It does make a surprisingly big difference,” Luciana commented.

“And it adds a certain je ne sais quoi that she didn’t have before,” said Micah. “I like it.”

Melody’s cheeks heated. She did not dislike the praise. “Thank you, Serena. Let’s go with this. Although, this doesn’t really change my silhouette very much.”

“With how bright your hair is, I highly doubt anyone would suspect you from behind,” Serena said. “Scrutiny is more likely to come face-to-face, so I thought it best to focus on such interactions. Anything too gaudy is bound to earn you the scorn of your more aristocratic classmates.”

“I can definitely see Lady Olivia taking umbrage with it,” Luciana said.

“Lady Olivia is the duke’s daughter, no?” Melody asked. “Of House Rincot’dor. We met her at the ball.”

“She’s the one who gave Lady Celedia an earful for her breach of etiquette. Seems to me she makes a point of hammering down nails, so I’d expect a visit if you made a spectacle of yourself.”

“I ought to thank her for that if I can earn admission, come to think of it.”

“I only hope it’s that easy.”

“Why wouldn’t it be, my lady?”

“Remember the Spring Ball? I attended with Lord Maxwell, and, well, let’s just say I certainly made a spectacle.”

“As if I could forget the legend of the Fae Princess.”

Luciana grunted. “Wh-what I mean to say is, she didn’t take kindly to that. She and I butted heads a little in the first semester, so don’t be surprised if some of that contempt carries over to the Angel. Cecilia made a bit of a splash herself, after all.” She crossed her arms and scowled.

Micah clapped her hands. “I remember now! I heard something about this when I joined you at the dormitory. Lady Rincot’dor’s grudge made it difficult for Miss Melody to befriend the other servants.”

“What?! It did?!” Luciana said.

“Micah!” Melody hissed.

“I had no idea! You need to tell me these things, Melody!” Luciana said. “Oh, if I’d known, the thwacks I would’ve given that girl with my harisen…”

“And that is precisely why I never told you, my lady. I would be a failure of a maid if I let my private affairs affect your school life. Besides, other than a few cold shoulders, there was no harm done.”

“Fine. If you say so.”

I better not hear about this happening again next semester, or so help me, she’s getting thwacked, Luciana swore. I’m not giving her a pass just because she helped Cecilia that one time.

All that aside, the girls finally settled on a look for Cecilia. Luciana’s petitions for an altered transformation sequence were heard, voted on, and promptly denied. The final tally: two to one. Micah and Serena versus the lone lady. Melody’s suffrage had been revoked on the grounds that she still didn’t fully understand what was at stake, despite Paula’s best efforts to educate her on the topic of public decency.

Micah and Serena returned to work, leaving Cecilia-form Melody and Luciana alone in her room. There was time enough until Lect came to pick Melody up for a quick tea break.

“Thank you for what you did in regards to Cecilia’s place of residence, my lady,” Melody said.

“Oh, that? It was nothing. Father took care of the formalities.”

According to the background they’d concocted, Cecilia hailed from a far-off march, which prompted the next question: Where did she live in the capital? The answer was simple: the Rudleberg estate.

“It all makes perfect sense,” Luciana said. “People saw how close we were at the Spring and Summer Balls, and obviously you would need somewhere to stay after coming from so far away. It’s only natural that I’d offer you a place here. The paperwork is a small price to pay when you’re going to all this trouble to protect me.” She beamed. “There’s nothing to thank me for.”

“Not having an address was a small complication when I began the process, and renting something I don’t intend to live in would be an utter waste. I considered Lect’s abode, but it’s hardly proper for an unmarried man and woman to live under the same roof, even if it were only for formality’s sake.”

“That’s exactly right, Melody. I wouldn’t have allowed it anyway. Not in a zillion years.”

“That’s not a word, my lady. Where in the world did you even learn it?”

Melody sighed. Luciana pouted. A classic combination. Then a knock came at the door.

“Gentlesister.” Serena entered. “Sir Lectias Froude is here for you.”

“Thank you for informing me. Is he in the foyer?”

“The parlor, actually. He said he had something to discuss before you depart.”

“Oh? What could that be?” Melody cocked her head. What could it be?

Serena and Luciana in tow, Melody made her way to the parlor, where she found the knight waiting.

“Hello, Lect.”

He was silent, simply staring at the girl before him, eyes vacant, a single thought on his mind. Pretty…

Incredible, the power two simple braids could have over a man’s heart. Melody, however, was ignorant to such masculine sensibilities and thus the effect she had. “Lect?”

“I-it’s nothing! Please, sit.”

“I don’t need your permission,” Luciana scoffed, answering for Melody. “It’s my sofa.”

“My lady, please. Manners,” the maid reprimanded.

Her lady huffed, throwing herself onto the couch with a sour expression. She had noticed that which escaped Melody’s otherwise keen eye for detail, and she was having none of it. Today would not be the day the Jealous Witch reconciled with the red-haired knight, not while his grubby little hands still grasped for her favorite maid.

Lect smiled crookedly, the best expression he could manage. Nothing had changed since the Spring Ball, and he’d have been a fool to expect otherwise.

Melody looked askance at her pouting, cross-armed lady and sighed. “I apologize on her behalf.”

“I take no offense,” Lect said.

“That’s what I thought,” Luciana spat. “Can we get to the point? You’re wasting Melody’s time.”

“I heard you had something to discuss. What might that be?” the maid asked.

“Right. Yes. I did.” Lect’s lips moved to form the words, but his voice refused.

Melody cocked her head again. Whatever this was about, it must have been awfully serious.

The silence persisted. And persisted. And persisted…

“If we’re here for five minutes again, so help me,” Luciana said.

“R-right! Sorry!”

It was only two minutes this time, down from his previous record back when he invited Melody to the Summer Ball at the Rudleberg demesne. Luciana did not appreciate the allusion.

Lect cleared his throat and collected himself. “Melody, do you sincerely intend to enroll at Royal Academy? All to protect your lady?”

“I do!” she said without hesitation. Her beaming smile betrayed nothing but honesty and resolve.

It was almost enough to make Lect hesitate. Almost.

“I deeply admire your spirit,” he said.

“Thank you.”

“But I can’t abide the risk. You’re an incredible mage, Melody. This I know well. That said, to defend oneself and to defend another are very different matters. I ask you this: Can you protect your lady?”

“Well…” Melody shrank beneath his austere gaze.

He was right. So right, in fact, that she wondered why no one had posed this question to her earlier. It was probably a consequence of her talents, both maidly and magely. Every task she set about doing, she accomplished without difficulty, always surpassing expectations, and those closest to her had witnessed these feats with their own eyes and learned not to doubt her.

“I can’t fault you for worrying for Lady Luciana, especially after the scare that night surely gave you,” Lect said. “However, I have to be forthright with you. I would be remiss not to. If I let you go through with this, you could very well put Lady Luciana in more danger. Or yourself. Melody, a layman who tries to be a hero is nothing but a liability.”

The knight looked at the maid dead on. She could say nothing in return.

Chapter 3:
Determination

MIZUNAMI RITSUKO HAD STUDIED SELF-defense. Melody could boast that much. But protecting another was not in her repertoire. Though a prodigy in all things, being a bodyguard naturally necessitated a partner, something she was not used to involving in her many studies. It was a skill set she had neglected out of complacency.

“I intend to petition His Lordship for a heightened guard at the academy and increased defenses,” Lect said. “After the events of that night, I suspect it won’t take much convincing on my part, all the more so if his daughter, Lady Celedia, attends.”

The academy wasn’t going to reopen until they could ensure the safety of the students anyway, but if they planned to make any changes to security, highborns and affluent persons could certainly expect to benefit. What use, then, would Melody have for Cecilia?

“Lady Luciana,” the knight continued, “would you want Melody at your side if it came at the risk of her life?”

“I wouldn’t,” the noblewoman replied without hesitation. Her bearing in that instant was truly noble. “That last thing I want is for her to put herself in danger for my sake.”

“My lady!” Melody protested.

“Sir Froude is right. I was so focused on the prospect of attending the academy with you that I lost sight of reality, of the dangers involved. I won’t risk losing you, Melody.” Her voice faltered and tears beaded in her eyes as emotion overtook her. “I won’t!”

Memories flooded Luciana’s mind. A terrifyingly short two weeks ago, her greatest fears had been realized. A great wolf brimming with dark mana attacked, and Melody had taken a lethal blow in defense of her lady. She’d stopped breathing. If only briefly, Luciana had lost her. The gaping wound in Luciana’s heart still ached with the immense grief and rage of that moment when she thought about it. It would never truly heal, never fully, and she hated that she’d nearly forgotten that fear.

Melody had a way of making it feel like everything would be all right. It was that effect which had poisoned Luciana, but Lect opened her eyes.

“I won’t go through that again,” she rasped. “Don’t make me go through that again!”

“My lady…”

Luciana clutched her skirt, seeming on the verge of breaking down into sobs.

Go through what again? Lect, meanwhile, was utterly perplexed by this seemingly unprompted outburst of emotion. Am I too late? Has she already put herself in harm’s way? Worse, I suspect. Lady Luciana wouldn’t have reacted this way if the situation wasn’t truly grave.

Though he could not fathom the events that had transpired at the County of Rudleberg, he and Luciana were in agreement for once, a miracle he would not risk squandering.

“Melody,” he said as the maid consoled her sniffling lady, “won’t you reconsider attending the academy?”

“I’m sorry, Lect, but I won’t.”

“What? But why?”

Melody continued to rub Luciana’s back. Lect had made good points, giving the maid much to think about, but her decision was unchanged.

“Listen to him, Melody!” Luciana said.

“Be calm, my lady. Lect, if I may have your attention.” Melody produced, seemingly from nowhere, a small black bead that rested in the center of her palm.

“What is that?” the knight asked.

“The wolves we encountered that night weren’t empowered by the usual sort of magic you see in monsters, but another darker form of mana.”

“Dark mana?”

“With it, beasts become resistant to all forms of attack—even traditional, magically enhanced ones.”

“How can that be? And how do you know all of this?”

“Because I’ve encountered it before in the Rudlebergs’ territory. My lady, the wolf we engaged there was invulnerable too, was it not?”

“Y-yeah,” Luciana replied between sniffs. “Rook and I tried to fight it, but nothing worked.”

“You fought a similar creature at your home?” Lect asked. “Does that mean we should expect to see more of those things all over the kingdom?”

“I’m not really sure,” said Melody.

Lect’s reaction was only natural. The Rudlebergs’ county was situated far from the capital. If invincible monsters were appearing even there, it made sense to see that as the start of an epidemic.

“What became of it? Did you defeat it?”

“In a sense?” Luciana said with an unsure lilt. “Maybe?”

“It departed,” Melody said. “Went back to where it belonged, my lady.”

“I see,” said Lect.

Escaped then, he surmised. Not even Melody was enough to stop such a creature. It’s no wonder Lady Luciana was in hysterics. I can only imagine how harrowing the experience must have been. That explains why their estate was in such horrible condition. The property damage these new threats are capable of is truly devastating.

The knight, understandably, hadn’t pieced together the full story. How could he, when the truth was quite literally larger than life? How could he know that the Rudleberg estate’s destruction was not the fault of monsters, but an earthquake of all things?

“Are your people okay?” he asked. “I recall your retinue having only one fighter.”

“Rest assured, that beast will never threaten the Rudleberg people again,” Melody said.

“That’s good then.”

So the beast didn’t escape without fatal wounds. That, at least, is a relief.

Communication was breaking down. Worse, it was doing so without either party’s awareness. Alas.

“I’m getting a sense of the bigger picture,” Lect said. “But where does that bead come into the story?”

“This is the dark mana that belonged to the stalker wolves who attacked us in crystallized form.”

“Crystallized mana, you say?”

Melody placed the bead on the table so Lect could examine it. An undiscerning eye would mistake the thing for a pearl. Any eye, in truth. The only evidence to the contrary was Melody’s word.

“I used a magic wind to carry the mana off the wolves, condensing it into that little ball there.”

“That’s why our attacks suddenly worked! It was you all along?”

“You can thank her now,” Luciana said.

One great mystery solved. I was utterly baffled at the time, Lect thought. I know Melody’s talents well, and yet she continues to surprise me. Every day since my meeting her has been a humbling one.

His eyes suddenly shot wide. He met Melody’s gaze as she nodded to his previous question. “You’re the only one who can contend with this mana. Aren’t you?” he said.

“That’s right. Which is why I won’t rescind my interest in attending the academy.” She hardly even blinked, indomitable. “I’m given to understand the monsters appeared suddenly and without warning. If the city discovered the means by which such an intrusion occurred, I might consider your suggestion, but until such time, no amount of security will ease my mind.”

It was Lect’s turn to waver. “I understand. But… But we have a solution. Silver weapons. The blade Maxwell wielded could hurt them. We could equip all the guards on campus with them.”

Before Melody’s coup de grâce, Maxwell’s silver sword had carried the battle. The palace would surely have heard about that.

But Melody shook her head. “You have a point, but consider: silver weapons.”

Lect had no rebuttal. Effective as they were in slicing through the dark mana, especially aided by the user’s magic, silver was a precious metal, one not easily procured, much less in the quantities needed to outfit a military. At most, they could grace small detachments tasked with defending nobles with such a privilege, but that would be all.

“You tell me these things because you care, and I thank you for that,” Melody said. She clasped her hands in front of her chest, as if words alone would not do justice to her true feelings. “But I refuse to sit idly by in a dormitory while my lady could be in mortal peril!”

In her eyes, determination shone. Her spirit blazed, naked and unashamed. So very unlike Lect’s.

“Melody,” he breathed.

Shame burned in his chest. At first, he’d gone along with her whims for lack of the nerve to do anything else. When he found any such nerve, he resolved to talk her out of her decision. Yet here he was, outmatched again, perpetually outshone by Melody’s single-minded devotion.

I won’t change your mind, he realized. Not as I am. So instead—

“Melody!” Luciana wailed.

The target of Luciana’s violent affections shrieked. The dam had finally broken, and Luciana was now a mess of tears, clinging to Melody right in front of Lect.

“Thank you, Melody! Thank you!” she cried. “You’re… You’re the sweetest, most caring person I’ve ever met!”

“My lady, your face! Lord, where’s a handkerchief? My lady, you mustn’t behave like this in front of a guest!” Finding that handkerchief, Melody started to dab and clean her lady’s face. Tenderly. As if comforting a child.

Lect detected hints of exasperation, but also patience, joy. Melody could not hide the smile tugging on her lips. In mere seconds, the gravity of the situation eased, and all that remained was a moment in time, a very Rudleberg moment.

Lect understood. This is what you fight for.

Melody hadn’t changed in the slightest since their first meeting. She trudged toward her dream of maidly perfection. She sought only the best for her mistress. With those nimble, dexterous fingers, she wove happy memories into the fabric of her family. It was what Lect loved about her. He’d loved her from the moment he laid eyes on her, though he didn’t know it at the time, but it was this girl before him that he truly adored. Not Celesty but Melody Wave, the girl who would be the most perfect maid in the world.

He shut his eyes, and after a moment of reflection, opened them again. “Very well. Let’s be off to the Leginbarth estate.”

“Thank you, Lect!” Melody paused in consoling her lady to offer a bright grin.

“It’s awfully quiet,” Melody said.

“The capital is on high alert,” Lect explained. “To call this a crisis would hardly be an exaggeration.”

Melody supposed that was fair. Their carriage rolled through silent Upper District streets. It was almost eerie how few people they had passed on their way.

“Everyone’s trying to stay put, I suppose,” she said.

“Not trying hard, I imagine. They’re understandably spooked. I wouldn’t be out myself if not for you.”

“That sword. Is it silver?”

Lect offered her a closer look at the elaborate blade leaning against his seat. “Borrowed from His Lordship. For safety, I was told. You were right to point out the impracticality of the metal. This is all I could get my hands on.”

“Will we see more monsters, do you think?”

“I wish I could tell you. His Majesty’s forces have been scouring the streets for any sign of them for three days, but nothing as of yet. I pray it stays that way.”

They said nothing more. Deserted, ghostly scenery rolled by in silence. Then they arrived.

“Greetings and welcome, Madam Cecilia.”

A butler met them. Melody curtsied in reply, satisfying the servant’s etiquette fee. He escorted them inside.

“This way to where His Lordship awaits.”

They came to an office, and the butler knocked on the door. “Madam Cecilia has arrived.”

“Enter,” rumbled a low voice.

The butler let them into a most unwelcoming atmosphere. Lect glanced at Melody. She seemed unfazed.

“Just Madam Cecilia, please,” the servant said.

“This is as far as I go,” Lect told her. “The rest is up to you, M—Cecilia.”

“I’ll see you after a successful interview,” Melody replied.

“I know you will.”

They shared warm, comforting smiles, and in she went. Lect stared at the shut door for some time.

“Well, look who it is,” came a familiar voice. It was Lect’s brother, Viscount Lyzack Froude, carrying a bundle of documents.

“Always busy,” the younger brother said.

“I can share if you like. Ah, but you were with Madam Cecilia, weren’t you? It’s the day of her interview.”

“Just began, as a matter of fact.”

“Drat. These papers will have to wait then. How did she seem? Confident? How do you judge her chances?”

“I’m not worried. Not about her.”

“No hesitation. You think very highly of her.”

“Yes. I do.”

Lyzack raised an eyebrow. The brother he knew would have blushed and gone mum. He’d only done the former this time. What could have had such an effect on him? Ah, love.

He let slip a sly smile. This was cause for celebration.

“Given any thought to returning to the classroom?” he asked. “You’ll not be able to meet often when she’s taking lessons. I can always put in a good word with His Lordship.”

“I’ll have to decline.”

The eyebrow went up again, higher this time. Lyzack thought his brother would jump at the opportunity. “You’re certain?”

“My efforts are better spent elsewhere.”

“If you insist. Well, my thoughts are with Madam Cecilia. I hope for the best. I’ve much to do, so I’ll be off. Tell me how it goes, won’t you?”

“Will do.”

Lect’s mind wandered as he watched his brother leave. Becoming an instructor again would let me see her more, true, but to what end? It’s time I stop chasing shadows and make myself useful. For her.

But what could he do for her? He’d given that question much thought on the ride here, and the answer was all too simple. Lectias Froude, knight of House Leginbarth, was uniquely qualified to solve one mystery in particular.

Celedia Leginbarth. You are not who you say you are. Melody’s—Celesty’s—place had been usurped, and Lect was the only witness to this crime. The truth of your identity, your intentions—I know not why you do what you do, but even if she doesn’t know it, I will not allow you to steal what rightfully belongs to Lady Celesty!

With strong, quick steps, Lect strode away.

Chapter 4:
Father-Daughter Meeting

“I AM HONORED THAT YOU WOULD TAKE TIME out of your busy day to see me, Your Lordship.”

Melody was nervous. Terribly nervous. After her parting remark to Lect, she had to make a good impression, lest she make a fool of herself. She concealed her doubts with a most perfect curtsy.

Cloud Leginbarth was scribbling something as she entered, frowning hard at the document beneath his pen. Only when she greeted him did he pause to acknowledge her. “Likewise. And my apologies. Things have been very busy of late. Could I trouble you to take a seat and wait a moment while I finish this?”

“Of course, Your Lordship.”

The count’s office was bigger than Melody had expected. Cloud sat at his desk at the far end of the room. To the left, a pair of sofas sandwiched a low table, where Melody presumed she should wait. She quietly sat down and did just that, accompanied only by the scritching of pen against paper.

The attack must have him terribly occupied, she thought.

Just as she was feeling guilty for intruding during such a trying time, another knock came.

“I bring tea,” said the butler, pushing a wagon. He poured Melody a cup. “Madam.”

“Thank you.”

The butler smiled in reply, then faced his master. “My lord, a gentleman does not make a fair lady wait.”

“I-I take no offense, really.”

“It’s a matter of principle, I’m afraid. Your coming was known well in advance, and it is the host’s responsibility to ensure the guest is attended to in a timely manner. Is it not, my lord?”

“I-I’ll be with you shortly,” Cloud stammered. The scribbling intensified.

Every butler I meet is so assertive, Melody thought. I wonder if Rook will ever be like that.

Ryan of House Rudleberg came to mind. She would not soon forget the sight of his lord, Hubert, the county’s acting bailiff, kneeling before him. Knowing when to remonstrate one’s employer was, perhaps, an important quality for such a position.

The scribbling stopped. “My apologies again.” Cloud stood and approached.

Melody stood as well, bowing respectfully. “They are wasted on me, my lord. I thank you again for seeing me despite your many responsibilities. It’s a pleasure and an honor.”

“Please, be seated.”

They did, one facing the other. The butler remained long enough to serve Cloud tea before departing, and then they were alone again.

Silence ruled the room for a time, save for the sound of Cloud’s breathing. It seemed slightly ragged, like he was as nervous as she, and he took a moment to collect himself. Melody thought that odd, but one very rarely found themselves with the composure for idle thought beneath the heavy gaze of a powerful nobleman such as Count Leginbarth, and she was no exception. She quickly forgot her curiosity and directed her attention to the interview at hand. The mystery of the count’s unease would remain unsolved this day. Alas.

The interview consisted of little that Melody had not already experienced during her consultation with Lyzack. Motivations. Interests. She answered each question with aplomb.

“Lamplight—Luce.” A number of tiny, candle-like lights rose from Melody’s hand and hovered around them.

Cloud had asked to see the spell that had impressed Lyzack and turned the tide during the monster attack, and he wasn’t disappointed. Far from it. “This would be a beautiful sight at night.”

“Yes, I suppose it would. Oh, but perhaps this might satisfy you.”

Melody snapped her fingers, and the ten lights became a spectrum of color. Reds, blues, and greens blinked around them, shifting with the flickering of the magic bulbs. In modern terms, it was a very Christmasy display.

I ought to show this to my lady later, Melody thought with the casual cadence of a magician proud of a new parlor trick.

To Cloud it was no mere trick, though. “My goodness, Madam Cecilia. You just might be a prodigy.”

O-oh. Oops. Are colors too much?

“My lord,” she said, “is this particularly special?”

“I’ve never seen anybody cast Luce at such a scale, to say nothing of altering the lights’ individual hues. Though perhaps they all simply thought it too frivolous to bother demonstrating. I can’t say, to be honest.”

“Th-that must be it. Yes.”

I need to go to class and learn what’s normal now!

Cecilia’s interest in studying magic was fabricated so she had an answer during the application process, but it was also very real. Melody needed a functioning knowledge of the arcane to better hide her true abilities. She was far too powerful for her own good, and armed with modern, Earthly concepts that elevated her exploits. Without an understanding of what the average person was capable of, she risked outing herself through simple ignorance.

The interview concluded without incident. Cloud shot furtive glances at the girl as he perused her resume. She certainly has the qualifications, he thought. Her talent for spell casting alone guarantees that. Still, I ought to put her through her paces to be sure.

“I’d like you to take a test, Madam Cecilia.” The count spread four sheets of paper out on the table between them. They were filled with word problems.

“What’s all this?”

“A mock exam, of sorts. I’m fully prepared to give you my endorsement, but there’s still the written test. I want to assess your academic readiness, so that I can be sure you won’t stumble when the time comes.”

“I’m to answer these questions then?”

“Indeed. This covers the subjects the academy considers part of its core curriculum: contemporary literature, mathematics, geography, and history. Other core courses include foreign languages, etiquette, and magic, but those won’t be on the test. They aren’t considered foundational, you see. I’ll return to work while you see to this. Speak up when you’ve finished.”

“I understand.”

Melody took up her pen, and Cloud returned to his desk. The scribbling became twofold.

Answers flowed from Melody’s fingertips as quickly as she read the questions. She’d already memorized all of the first-year textbooks so she could tutor her lady, making these cursory exams child’s play. It was important to remember that Melody Wave was a force of nature even without her incredible, logic-defying spells.

She was done in less than an hour. “Your Lordship, I’ve finished.”

“That was fast. Let’s have a look.” The count took her papers and studied them. His expression quickly hardened.

Oh dear, Melody thought. Did something slip my mind?

“They’re right. Every single question,” Cloud rumbled.

“Oh, thank goodness.” Melody put a hand to her chest and sighed.

“I’ll have no issues making your case, that’s for certain. Consider your interview officially concluded.”

“Thank you for your time, my lord.”

“The academy will be pleased to have someone so, er, talented among their number.” Cloud rang a bell, and the butler returned with his wagon. “We’ve finished. Fetch Lectias for me.”

“At once, my lord,” the servant replied. “In the meantime, more tea.” He replaced their empty cups with a pair of warm, steaming ones before taking his leave.

Silence again. Melody sipped her tea. Delicious. I do enjoy brewing a good cup from cheap leaves, but you certainly can’t go wrong with quality. I wish I could find some growing in my forest.

She giggled at the silly notion. As well-fed as that forest had kept her and her family, what did she expect for it? A garden of tea leaves ripe for the picking?

“Madam Cecilia,” Cloud said.

“Yes, my lord?” Melody cocked her head. The count seemed awfully troubled, but he said nothing more. “My lord?”

“You…”

“Yes?”

“I, er…”

The silence persisted. And persisted. And persisted…

Five minutes of pure, uninterrupted silence.

“Is everything all right, my lord?”

“Y-yes! Quite all right!”

Like lord, like vassal, Melody noted with amusement. Five minutes was a truly agonizing amount of time for a silence like this to last, but Melody was a very patient girl.

“Is it something to do with our interview?” she asked.

“No. No, not at all. I just…had a question for you.”

“For me? By all means, Your Lordship.”

“Do you,” the count began, voice faltering. “Do you know a woman by the name of…”

Melody blinked. What did the lord of House Leginbarth have to do with her? Where had he heard that name? Again, her curiosity lasted only a moment.

“I do, as a matter of fact,” she answered quickly.

“You do?!” Cloud planted his hands on the table and leaned forward.

Melody reeled back. Wh-what in the world’s gotten into him? And over her?

“Y-yes, my lord,” she said. “Serena works at House Rudleberg.”

“S-Serena?”

“She’s a very hardworking maid, and she’s been very kind to me during my stay with them.”

“Serena…” The count deflated, very much like a balloon, sinking back into his seat. Lethargy crashed over him like a wave. Here was the very definition of “downtrodden.”

“Are you well, my lord?”

“Yes. Yes, I’m fine. I apologize. Forget I asked. I was mistaken.”

“I-I see.”

“Have you no questions for me, madam?”

“For you? Oh, perhaps I do. How is Lady Celedia? She retired from the ball before I could tell her goodbye.”

“Right. She’s been feverish since that night, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Is her condition improving?”

“Somewhat. Much of her fever has passed, but we’re leaving nothing to chance. She is still resting.”

“That’s wise. I suppose I’ll refrain from seeing her if it would be a burden.”

“I will pass along your well wishes.”

Cloud averted his eyes. Another curiosity that Melody couldn’t linger on. It was time to leave.

“Thank you again for your time, Your Lordship,” she said.

“It was well spent. I will make your case to the academy. You should hear of an official examination date shortly. Best of luck to you.”

“I’ll do my utmost.”

“Lect,” the count said to the newly arrived knight. “See Madam Cecilia home safe.”

“Yes, my lord,” Lect replied. “Shall we, Cecilia?”

“I’m ready,” Melody said.

With a bow to the count, the pair departed the Leginbarth estate. On their way, Melody couldn’t help but ponder the experience. Why did His Lordship ask about Serena? What was he mistaken about? Perhaps she wasn’t who he thought she would be. I’ll have to ask her when I’m back at the estate.

If there were limits to obliviousness, Melody did not know them. She spat in their face at every opportunity, in much the same way she inadvertently spat in the face of the father whose name she had utterly forgotten. Such cruelty.

Cloud lay face down on his desk, alone. She doesn’t know Selena. Only a “Serena”… His lips twisted into a self-derisive smile.

Ever since learning Cecilia’s last name, he had held in his heart a hope beyond hope. Cecilia McMarden. She shared a surname with his beloved. If the two knew each other, speaking Selena’s name ought to have elicited some reaction in the girl.

But what was the hope, really? That Celedia was somehow, impossibly, not his flesh and blood? That this stranger was the true gift Selena had left to him?

No. It was an excuse, an explanation for his apathy toward Celedia. That was the hope.

And for my cowardice, I’m confronted with cruel reality, he lamented. The harsh truth that I am a failure of a father who cannot love his daughter.

What, then, was the difference between him and his own father, the one who had torn him from his one true love?

The count lifted his head just enough to gaze at the sky beyond the window, unaware all the while that his hesitation was the cause of his suffering, of the fact that his words had been so fraught as to allow “Selena” to be misconstrued as “Serena.” Such was the fate of the timid, the gutless, and the half-hearted. If only he’d steeled his resolve. Ah, hindsight. Perhaps Melody had been right to compare the count to his spineless knight.

This was an entire family of ignoramuses. Extremely talented, highly qualified ignoramuses. In the words of the late Selena—undoubtedly spoken from the great beyond—like father, like daughter. Cloud’s suffering was only just beginning.

Chapter 5:
Tindalos and the Deal

THE MORNING AFTER THE SUMMER BALL, September 1st, a young girl lay in bed at the Leginbarth capital estate.

“How fare you, my lady?”

“Fine, Sir Sable. It’s only a fever.”

The girl’s name was Celedia Leginbarth, a former commoner recently taken in by the count as Cloud’s long-lost daughter. It seemed the spell that had come over her last night had yet to pass, for her cheeks remained flushed. Sable Pufontis, the knight assigned to her, sat at the edge of her bed with worry creasing his face.

“But more importantly,” the girl said, “you say there were monsters in the city last night?”

“That’s right, my lady.”

“How frightening.”

Sable frowned at the frail fear in her voice. “I realize I oughtn’t worry you over such things when you’re still on the mend, but I thought it pertinent to inform you for your safety. I apologize.”

“I am grateful for your compassion, Sir Sable. How much damage did they do?”

“None at all, my lady. Rest assured. The fiends were swiftly slain.”

“I…see.” Celedia blinked as if confused.

Sable pushed on, oblivious. “It was Lect’s company they assailed. You’ll recall meeting them. He’s a valiant fighter who keeps all those under his charge from harm. I am glad to say there were no casualties under his watch, and I’m proud to call him my brother in arms.”

“No casualties. Yes, that is a relief.” Celedia smiled the kind of ethereal, cherubic smile that came only from youth and grace.

Sable’s heart skipped a beat, but he concealed that moment of weakness with a cough. “In any case, Royal Academy has delayed its next semester pending a few security concerns. I thought you ought to know.”

“That’s a shame. Or maybe a stroke of good luck. If the semester had started as planned today, I wouldn’t have made it.” Celedia giggled.

The knight chuckled. “Macabre, but true, I suppose. Though we can only say this because we know no one was hurt. I’d advise you not to repeat that to others. They may not interpret your words so charitably.”

“Of course. And thank you, Sir Knight.”

In his own insensitive sort of way, Sable couldn’t help but find the feverish red in her cheeks terribly beautiful when coupled with her smile. The knight left her alone, and Celedia asked her lady-in-waiting for privacy as well. To rest, she said.

When the room was empty, Celedia rose, her youth and grace replaced by something twisted. She clicked her tongue in frustration. This girl was many things—an anomaly, a strange amalgamation of the orphan called Leah and a being of darkness—but she was certainly not a Leginbarth.

Fate had brought together Leah and the thing called Tindalos, the eighth vessel of the Sangreal Project. Far to the west, in the kingdom known as Hemnates, a heist gone awry had put the orphan girl in contact with the being, which proposed a deal: Her body for a wish. It was a one-sided arrangement, one that ultimately cost Leah her freedom.

Leah was gone now. Asleep deep within her own heart.

“No casualties. Not a single one,” she hissed. “How? How did they subdue my mana and slay my hounds? Damn it all—ahem. Not very ladylike of me. Need to watch my tongue.” The thing calling itself Celedia covered its mouth, quickly donning its ethereal mask. “Leah wants to be Cecilia Leginbarth. Far be it from me to fail to uphold my end of the bargain.”

Celedia grinned sardonically but collapsed again into bed. “Limitations of the flesh. Likely a consequence of last night.”

In my true form, I could have seen through the hounds’ eyes and led the attack myself, it thought. Too burdensome for mortals, it would seem. Even in its thoughts, Tindalos maintained a cadence and eloquence befitting a noblewoman. It was truly a stroke of luck that the girl found me when my seal was broken and that she was such a uniquely perfect vessel. Indeed, it was nothing short of a miracle that Leah had not only the capacity to sustain me but the room within her to accept me in the first place. I must repay her generosity in kind. Mark my words, young Leah, your dream will come true.

Celedia turned in bed, reveling in nostalgia.

The sky faded quickly into darkness on the August evening when Tindalos discovered its new vessel. A shadow flickered against the eastern wall of an average Hemnetian home, warping as if cast by an unsteady light. From it emerged a pair of emaciated arms draped in ragged sleeves.

“Now, where are we?” the girl said. “I wasn’t particularly choosy about where I appeared, so long as it wasn’t that accursed cavern.”

Leah, or what was left of her after being consumed by Tindalos, eighth vessel and self-proclaimed Dark One, shut her eyes. It retraced her memory. A deep slumber subdued the orphan girl’s mind, but that was no matter to the Dark One. It could probe her thoughts all the same.

“The Kingdom of Hemnates. I’m not familiar with that name. What manner of technology is this? Has it regressed? Clearly, I’ve missed a good deal during my confinement.”

For that matter, it’s strange that the Fetter-Sphere was left neglected for so long, Tindalos thought. What of the scientists? Was the Sangreal Project truly completed? Has Vanargand truly been realized? Many questions. No answers. No matter.

Tindalos scoffed. Its survival mattered above all.

It found itself in a village. Behind it lay a rudimentary shelter made of stone. Before it, laundry hung out to dry. No signs of life. The residents were evidently away.

Tindalos glanced down at its own clothing. A ratty long-sleeved shirt and a dusty, hole-ridden pair of pants. “I can hardly fulfill Leah’s wish like this. A deal is a deal, after all.”

It nodded to itself, then approached the laundry line.

Several minutes later, the shadows at the base of a far-off tree a ways down the road began to shift. From them emerged a pair of emaciated arms and a head of silver. Tindalos reborn. Not as a dirty orphan this time but rather a plain villager. It had helped itself to a conveniently sized dress carelessly left out for the taking.

“Now then. What to…” Before the Dark One could gather its thoughts, its vision blurred. The ground beneath its feet spun.

Tindalos fell against the nearby tree, its legs surrendering. It thumped to the dirt and knew at once from whence this discomfort arose. Leah’s flesh was rejecting its mana. A minor annoyance, and not unforeseen. No mortal could hope to imbibe its brilliance without consequence. Its powers placed a great burden on the human body.

“I thought her vessel capable of enduring it, but it seems I acted hastily.” Tindalos clicked its tongue, frustrated by this sudden hurdle to its designs. It left its chagrin behind with a sigh. “We Sangreal are mighty. To have found someone capable of sustaining me is fortunate enough. I mustn’t expect too much. All the more so in my current condition.”

Tindalos was nothing more than magical energy—vast, negative energy coalesced in such massive quantities so as to gain sentience. The dissipation of that energy was tantamount to death, or as close a thing to death as such an entity could experience. Upon emerging from the Fetter-Sphere, Tindalos’s mana was scant and given to dissolution. As the saying went, beggars could not be choosers, and Tindalos was a beggar. It needed Leah’s body to ensure its very being was not scattered to the wind.

“I’ll have to fulfill her wish, whether I like it or not. For both of our sakes.”

Though hardly a fair one, Tindalos’s “deal” had served a purpose. It had been the incision into which it could insert itself, assuming control of Leah’s flesh and blood. It therefore had to complete the procedure, lest the deal be nullified and Tindalos expelled from its host. The incredible strength of human indomitability could not be underestimated, and though it often was by humans themselves, Tindalos would find itself without a vessel if it made that same mistake.

Leah’s wish—the terms of the deal—was to become another, Cecilia Leginbarth. Tindalos found this baffling. When they made their contract, their minds had melded, and the Dark One saw her memories. They’d been jumbled, interspersed with a third individual’s recollections, and those were strangely immersive. They felt almost omniscient, the way her choices and futures were laid so bare.

That girl, Tindalos surmised, was Cecilia Leginbarth, the one Leah wanted to be, but according to her memories, Leah and Cecilia were utter strangers. So why did Leah have her memories? This baffled Tindalos greatly. Was Cecilia Leginbarth even a real person? Was Leah simply an esper? Tindalos did not know. Tindalos had no way to know now that it had sedated the orphan’s mind.

A deal was a deal, though. If it wanted to remain in control, Tindalos had to fulfill its end of the bargain. Simply making the girl look the part of Cecilia Leginbarth was a good start, hence her new silver hair and lapis lazuli eyes.

Tindalos chuckled. Appearances are everything, after all. I must say, I commend the girl and her unequivocally selfish desires. Very much my specialty, those.

The entity failed to see the difference between jealousy and admiration. In any case, it needed more information. It delved into Leah’s mind as it rested against a tree.

Answers arrived in a rush.

According to Leah, Cecilia was this world’s “heroine,” the long-lost, illegitimate child of House Leginbarth, a Theolan lord. She attended Royal Academy. She did battle against Vanargand. She saved the world. She was the—

“The Saint?!” Tindalos bellowed. “Cecilia Leginbarth is the Saint?!”

For a Sangreal, the Saint was two things: solace and damnation. She was blessed with the power to return the negative energy that made up beings like Tindalos to its natural place in the world, the negative energy that gave beings like Tindalos their sentience, the negative energy that Tindalos would die without.

Beings like Tindalos did not like the Saint.

“Doubtless Garmr would leap at this opportunity, the sentimental dunce, but not I! And yet, she happens to be the one my host yearns for. Vexing.”

Upon further investigation, the girl called Cecilia Leginbarth did, indeed, possess the powers of the Saint beyond any doubt. With them, she could defeat the so-called Dark One, Vanargand, ridding the world of its malevolence.

“The scientists spoke of the ninth subject, Vanargand, as the most complete, the most realized, but the Saint is even mightier.” This amused Tindalos greatly. “They created us—they created them to be this world’s saviors, only to become the darling Saint’s prey. Oh, I do so love dramatic irony!”

Just how long had it been confined? Much had clearly changed in this world. The people had utterly forgotten the Saint, the Sangreal, and their roles.

Tindalos could contain its laughter no longer. They were made to be saviors. Not I. No, the Saint’s business is none of mine.

“And I’d prefer to keep it that way,” it murmured. “If it weren’t for the matter of assuming her identity… Clearly, I still require more information.”

Tindalos returned to the depths of Leah’s mind. There, it uncovered more about Cecilia’s personality, her relationships, her father—one Cloud Leginbarth—and the many gorgeous men she was to meet at Royal Academy. Among many other superfluous things.

It opened its eyes. “If I’m to become this fine lady, I suppose I ought to act the part.” Tindalos effected a melancholic, ethereal smile punctuated by a modest titter. It was the picture of the perfect heroine herself.

Seems the most important element of this role is cozying up to these special men of hers, Tindalos thought. Romance, is it?

According to Leah’s memories, these men were Crown Prince Christopher; his best friend and confidant, Maxwell; the knight and bodyguard, Lectias; a puppet of the Dark One by the name of Bjork; and Prince Schroden of the Rordpier Empire. Of those five, the heroine had to enter a relationship with at least one.

Quite the esoteric requirement, in my mind. Or hers, rather. I must be Cecilia Leginbarth in all things, even in the privacy of my thoughts. Strange though it was, Tindalos’s goal was set. Ahem. Now, if dear Leah’s recollections are sound, I suspect there’s already a Cecilia at the academy. She’ll need to be disposed of, and her companions’ memories altered.

Tindalos steadied itself as it rose. Its flesh appeared rested enough. “I must take care not to overexert myself. Use my powers sparingly.”

It stepped forward, and the dizziness returned with a vengeance. Tindalos dropped to its knees again. Evidently rest was not all this vessel needed.

“Hail!” someone shouted while the being was weighing its options. “Are you well?”

A man with long, dark hair tied up in a ponytail approached. Worry filled his eyes, replaced by shock once he got a better look at the frail girl.

Still cautious, Tindalos offered the man an ethereal grin. “You’re very kind. I’m a little fatigued, I’m afraid.”

“L-Lady Celesty… Is that you?”

“Pardon?”

Celesty? Tindalos had never heard that name before.

Silver hair. Eyes like the ocean. Ostensibly fifteen years of age or so, the dark-haired man thought. It must be!

The man was not the subtle sort, myriad emotions playing out in bluntly his expression. At last, he had found the target of his months-long search, fruitless until this very moment. He waited with bated breath for the girl’s answer.

He was met with only suspicion. “Who are you?”

The man returned to his senses at last. “My apologies, fair maiden. I come from Theolas, and my master, Lord Leginbarth, has sent me, his knight, on a very important mission. Sable is my name. Sable Pufontis. I ask again. Are you Lady Celesty, daughter of Lady Selena, who hails from Anavalez of the Avarenton March?”

“What happens if I say yes, Sir Knight?”

Tindalos was skeptical and slow to trust this stranger, but some of what he spoke of rang familiar. Theolas. Leginbarth. The count who was the heroine’s father. Could the being’s luck truly be so fortuitous?

“Huzzah!” the knight said. “I knew it to be true! You are the one I seek, my lady. I have searched high and low for you on behalf of your father, Count Cloud Leginbarth.”

“My father?” Tindalos did not recall giving the man an answer, and yet he had presumed one. It could not hide its befuddlement, but inwardly, it was most pleased. If Sable spoke the truth, this was the best possible thing that could have happened to it.

Leah’s memories told of knights who came in search of Cecilia’s mother who instead found Celesty and escorted her to the capital, where she would live at her father’s estate. This development fell in line with that premonition, but only mostly. It was meant to happen before spring, and she was meant to meet a red-haired knight by the name of Lectias Froude.

Curious discrepancies, but Tindalos wouldn’t look this gift horse in the mouth.

“Much time has passed since your mother’s passing and your departure on this sorrowful pilgrimage, but blessed be, I have found you,” the knight said. “At last, we meet.”

“Yes, I…I suppose we do.”

More discrepancies. The heroine in Leah’s memories had stayed put, wallowing in her grief until the knights arrived. This heroine, however, had departed on some manner of pilgrimage, apparently. So the real Cecilia had yet to take her place with her father.

But why “Celesty?” Tindalos wondered. Why is that what they called me, and not Cecilia? Leah’s memories were not entirely complete, not entirely trustworthy. But a name was only a name. No matter at all. It could not let this chance slip by. That blasted Saint has left the door wide open for me. Cecilia Leginbarth I shall become!

“His Lordship, your father, yearns to see you, my lady,” Sable said. “Let us away to the royal capital, your home.”

“I have…a father.” Tindalos brought tears to the corners of its eyes, an excellent display of emotion. She accepted Sable’s hand with a trembling, hesitant one.

Relief softened the knight’s expression for only a moment. “My lady, are you all right?” He examined her dreadfully thin wrist with grave concern. She didn’t look just malnourished; she looked positively starved. “My lady, where are your things?”

Celesty had naught but the clothes on her back, quite literally. Sable eyed her with a suspicion that she confirmed with downcast eyes. “I’m not quite sure. It was all here one second and gone the next.”

“You were robbed?!”

The girl only smiled in her sad, quiet way. Sable burned with fury. Bandits and scoundrels were ever wont to strike at the most vulnerable. All it took was a second of inattentiveness. Lacking even a single coin, Celesty would have been left to wander foreign lands all on her own.

No woman ought to experience such hardship, he lamented. Damned thieves. They should count their blessings that I was not here to cut them down!

It was an excellent act on Tindalos’s part, who was only so frail because Leah had been frail, living the hungry life of a street urchin. That it lacked any possessions was simply because it had only been free of its cavernous prison for mere minutes. In Sable’s defense, these were not easy conclusions to jump to.

Things moved quickly thereafter. Sable scooped the girl up and whisked her away to his base of operations, where his companions awaited, trusted partners he had recruited shortly after parting with Lect. Upon arriving and witnessing the unmistakable traits they had been told to look for, they waited on Celesty hand and foot. Tindalos acted the part of a flustered girl to perfection, performing a girl struggling to come to terms with her new noble status, and no one thought her anything else.

After sending word to his lord by letter, and once they had started on the road back to the capital by carriage, Sable said, “We’ll be passing through Anavalez, my lady. Shall we stop there?”

“I… Yes, let’s. Please.” Tindalos had to take a moment to remember what Anavalez even was.

Sable had made the proposal out of kindness, the sort of kindness that would have been a curse to any normal person attempting to steal the identity of another. After all, how could one hope to sell the illusion to one’s own hometown? But Tindalos was not a person, and certainly not normal.

The moment Tindalos came upon the village, a haze of dark mana wafted off its body. Without a means by which to visualize the energy, like the spells utilized by Anna-Marie or Melody, it was imperceptible to the naked eye. Thus the haze spread unabated, ensnaring the entire village in its shadowy tendrils.

“Welcome home, Celesty!”

“Made it back, eh? How was your trip? Fun?”

“Meaningful,” Celesty told her adoring public. “I’m glad to be back.”

The people were spellbound. Tindalos had become Celesty. Thoroughly.

And I always will be, Tindalos noted sadistically. Even if the Saint returns, she’ll find only strangers here.

It had used its sinister powers to alter the people’s perceptions and memory. As far as they knew, Tindalos was the girl they had watched grow from a babe to a woman—a past stolen, relationships usurped.

Doubly certain of their charge’s identity after the warm welcome by the Anavalez people, Sable and his company continued toward Paltescia. They would suffer a delay, however. Tindalos found itself bedridden, a combination of exertion due to its powers and simple travel fatigue. Beset by fever, all the entity could do was ponder ways to avoid such setbacks in the future, to little avail.

There must be some way, it agonized.

And so the time of their reunion came.

“H-hello,” the girl said timidly. “I am Celesty.”

Another perfect act, this time of a shy commoner with no concept of etiquette or noble customs. The sight of her clumsy bow was very convincing and heartwarming to a quietly watching Sable. He had anticipated quite the show from his lord upon being reunited with his daughter, an outburst of emotion, even a tasteless hug. Sable had prepared himself to scold his lord for such a display. It was no way to behave toward a young girl, after all.

But no outburst came.

“Welcome,” Cloud finally replied. “Welcome, Celesty. Full glad am I to have you.”

My lord? Sable watched in confusion as the count remained firmly seated at his desk and turned away from his daughter. Celesty shot nervous glances his way, but no further words passed between them.

Just as the knight opened his mouth to say something, anything, Cloud continued, “If you’re to appear in high society, we must consider the matter of your name. So as to safeguard your dignity, Celesty, I ask that you conceal that which your mother has blessed you with and instead refer to yourself as Celedia.”

“What?”

“That’s all. You must be exhausted after your long journey. You would do well to rest in your room.”

Cloud said nothing more.

“Celedia…”

The girl was still shaken by this development and the new name her father had given her. Even as Sable escorted her to her chambers, she muttered it beneath her breath.

“His Lordship is unmarried,” Sable explained. “The appearance of a child for a man of his standing can be a ruinous thing among the peerage. Given your mother’s common blood, a change of identity is a very reasonable measure, my lady.” He thought Celesty, now Celedia, reluctant to part with what she had been called all her life, what she had been given by her mother, but Tindalos’s mind was elsewhere.

Celedia. Celedia. Why Celedia? Not Cecilia? Celedia Leginbarth?

The count reacted appropriately, according to Leah. He was a bumbling man when it came to matters of the heart. Though his very soul burst at the seams with love for his lost paramour’s final gift, he lacked the means by which to express it, and so their relationship was initially a rocky one. It was all quite perfect.

Almost perfect.

A name is only a name, but how does that factor into Leah’s wish? Tindalos wondered.

“My lady?” Sable asked with concern. The girl had been very quiet and downcast.

When she looked up, a melancholic smile adorned her face. “Sir Sable, from now on, call me Celedia.”

“As you wish, Lady Celedia!”

How noble, Sable thought, that she would endeavor to satisfy her father’s wishes in spite of all that was surely plaguing her mind. However underwhelming a reunion it was, that’s to be expected. It will take time to mend years of estrangement. His Lordship knows not how to treat his daughter, nor my lady how to respond. Ah, but who better to bridge the divide than His Lordship’s loyal vassal? I shall be the carpenter they need!

Brimming with unfounded optimism, Sable shadowed his lady as they walked on, an act he would surely become intimately accustomed with in the near future.

The name can always be altered later, Tindalos thought. For now, I needn’t meddle with Father dearest’s mind. I’ll simply bide my time and see how events develop.

Thus, Celedia Leginbarth was born.

“Look! Look! Is it not perfect? I’ll make those snobs regret what they’ve done. Removing me from the head research team? Fools! Didn’t think I could manage a Sangreal without them, did they? Well look at me now!”

“The Saint? A waste of resources. The future is with the Sangreal. With enough of them, the negative energy can be contained and extracted easily enough. So what if a few pop? We can always make more. Now, enough of that. We’ve received proposals for potential military applications…”

“Let’s make a deal, shall we? My dear, sweet Tindalos.”

Celedia jolted awake. She didn’t remember falling asleep.

Rising slowly, the girl looked toward the window, where evening painted the sky. It was September 3rd, three days since she last came down with a fever. She felt her jaw, felt the beads of sweat rolling down her cheeks and forehead.

“Terrible dream.”

One thing the sweat had seemingly done was quell her fever. She felt less flushed too.

Catching her breath, which she realized was ragged, she stood and approached the window. “Irrelevant. All of it. Eyes forward, Celedia.” She turned her mind to the deal with Leah. Better that than where the nightmare turned it. “Fulfillment hinges on one thing: entering into romantic relations with one of the five men. But I’ll not be falling in love anytime soon, which means I’ll have to take the seduction route.” She giggled. “I like that word. They’re hardly men at all, really, so I’ll call them what they are. ‘Routes’ to be conquered.”

It was perfect, for these would not be relationships in the first place, only a means to an end. Any love would be a farce, and the Dark One certainly had no interest in romance. She would pursue these men, to be sure, but only to see them trampled underfoot, each and every one. This it swore as a twisted sneer stained Celedia’s face.

Still, she thought, there’s the matter of these discrepancies. What could they mean?

There was her name, for one thing, but why was the actual Cecilia not where she ought to be? Gone on a pilgrimage? Leah’s memories spoke nothing of the sort. If that weren’t mystery enough, the entire ball had been one enormous anomaly. Anna-Marie Victillium should have been a temperamental, foolish woman, but she had been the picture of grace, the perfect lady, not at all the antagonistic force of conflict facilitating relations with the routes.

And Ciestine van Rordpier, the Rordpier princess who came to study at the academy in place of the prince, Schroden. She’d had the bearing of her brother, but, crucially, was a woman. Would beguiling her count toward the prerequisite? Leah’s favorite had been Schroden, so this complicated matters significantly.

Then there was the perplexing incongruity that was Luciana Rudleberg herself, the girl who should have long been dead by Vanargand’s hand. She, too, defied Leah’s depictions, boasting fae-like elegance and ephemeral charm. Her attendance with the route known as Maxwell, of all people, doubly confounded Tindalos. He had been meant for Cecilia at this ball.

But perhaps most confounding of all was the appearance of Cecilia herself, a girl gold of hair and red of eyes. Quite distinctly not the heroine and yet bearing the heroine’s name. She had attended with the one called Lectias, and according to hearsay, she’d done the same at the Spring Ball months prior. That, at least, matched Leah’s memory.

That commoner, she ruminated. Who is she? The Saint, perhaps? Unlikely. I sensed hardly a thing from her. I would have felt something if that was the case.

Leah’s fragile mortal frame hindered Tindalos’s powers, including its ability to detect magic in its surroundings. Under such limitations, it was no wonder it had failed to see through Melody’s infallibly perfect mana control, or noticed that, despite what it had done to Leah’s own appearance, Cecilia was in a disguise of her own.

No matter. How much danger could one lowborn pose? Hardly any, especially if she isn’t attending the academy as she says. Perhaps siccing my hounds on them was a tad premature. In any case, she’ll not prove an obstacle so long as she knows her place.

“And if she doesn’t, she can be dealt with quickly.” Celedia giggled, a sinister, sadistic giggle hearkening back to the night she transformed the stalker wolves of the Great Vanargand Wood into her pawns.

It was short-lived.

Celedia looked down at the liquid that splashed onto her hand. One drop became two, then three. It would not stop. The liquid streamed, ceaseless and steady, from her own eyes.

“What is this? Why am I… Why are you doing this, Leah?” These tears were not Tindalos’s. And if they were not Tindalos’s, there was only one other they could belong to. “Why are you crying?”

It should have been impossible. How immense this emotion must have been if Leah could experience it even while mired in darkness. Tindalos could not fathom it.

“How long must this go on?”

Still, it would not stop. Nor did it show signs of stopping. A trickle became a river as unknowable sadness poured from the depths of a slumbering soul. It took Tindalos many moments to deduce that this arose in response to its intended course of action, and only once it revoked any plans for murder did the torrent abate.

Celedia collapsed again into her bed, exhausted, like a baby who had sobbed itself to sleep. Strange that crying had that effect.

“There goes the tried-and-true method,” she grumbled into her sheets. “You are a one, Leah.” What might have happened had her attempt with the wolves gone to plan? She didn’t want to entertain that thought. To think that tears could be the Dark One’s undoing. “I’ll have to conduct myself with care at the academy. In time, though, they will be mine. I will conquer every route before me, and I will be this world’s heroine. I will make it…so…”

The grumbling ceased, replaced by the gentle breaths of a girl who had cried herself to sleep.

Chapter 6:
Exam Day Approaches

THE NIGHT FOLLOWING MELODY’S INTERVIEW, the academy’s headmaster, Mace Ardora, played host to a visitor.

“Do you think me a free man simply because we’re on hiatus? Do you think I’ve suddenly landed a windfall of spare time because we aren’t in session? That I’m not up to my neck in tedious scheduling minutia? Look atroublesomet me. Look at these bags under my eyes and tell me I’ve the time for this… What was it again? A girl you want considered for admission? Are you out of your brilliant mind?!”

Count Mace Ardora, thirty-three years of age, medium build, medium height, was an exceptionally average man with exceptionally average, short brown hair. His one and only noteworthy trait might have been the unruly mess of cowlicks blessing his head, though he would have called them a curse. He kept his hair short explicitly to conceal them.

The target of his ire was a comparatively exceptional man, his every feature distinctive in its own right. With hair of brilliant silver, deceptively warm, brown eyes that bore the glint of a keen mind, and a bulky musculature that ill-befit a dignitary, no one would mistake him for another. His brawny hands lay clasped over one knee, one leg crossed over the other. Even in the face of adversity, he was the picture of composure. Who else could it be but Count Cloud Leginbarth?

“You expended your last favor on your daughter, Count. She was trouble enough,” Mace continued. “I don’t know where you keep finding these girls, but enough is enough. They’re simply popping up like mad! I finish with one, and you’ve already brought another! Is this some new proclivity of yours?! Collecting daughters, are you?!”

“Madam Cecilia is…not my daughter.”

“I’ve absolutely no interest in uncovering why that pains you so much. Trouble in paradise, I presume. Too many women, not enough affection. A tale as old as time. My deepest sympathies for you and your familial harem. Moving swiftly along…”

“She isn’t my daughter,” Cloud insisted. “Only a remarkably talented young lady who deserves an education.” The count averted his gaze. Evidently, he was capable of feeling guilt.

Mace, excruciatingly cognizant of his old friend’s sincerity, grabbed fistfuls of his hair and let out a low, poignant growl. “This is the last time, you hear me? For old time’s sake. But being headmaster isn’t all fun and games, you know, so stop expecting this from me. I’ll have everything together in time for the next semester, but you owe me one.”

It was no mean feat to ascend to headmaster at such a young age. The man could bear the weight of this added responsibility, and Cloud knew it well. He nodded staunchly. “Of course. I’ll have a nutritional tonic delivered to you in the near future.”

“You’re damn right you will, but if you think that’ll buy me off, you’ve got another thing coming, Cloud! Your time will come. Best not forget.”

“Right. Thank you, Mace.” His stony mask softened like clay into a warm smile.

“Yeah, yeah. You never play fair. Honestly.”

“Hm?”

“Forget it! Now, this girl. She must be quite the catch if you’re this insistent about her.”

“I’m not sure any testimony I give will do her justice. Expect to be surprised.”

“Really, now?”

Mace, having only skimmed the girl’s resume, had not yet realized this was none other than the enigmatic Angel of the Ball. Cloud could not wait to see what his friend made of her. The exam couldn’t come soon enough.

You wipe that smirk off your face, Mace quipped internally. He did not share, nor did he appreciate, the count’s smug enthusiasm. Take a walk in my shoes, and we’ll see how long you keep up that attitude!

It was the afternoon of September 6th, three days after Melody’s interview with the count.

“Here you are, Melody. Sorry it’s nothing special, but I think I’ve gotten better thanks to you!”

“There was hardly anything for me to improve on, but I’m happy to help.”

Paula, Lect’s sole maid of all work, set a steaming cup of tea before Melody, her brown braids swaying. The latter was at the former’s estate, currently waiting in the parlor.

“Thank you,” Melody said. She took a sip. “Delicious. Naturally.”

“Oh, you. You’ll make me blush.” Paula rubbed the back of her head shyly, red tinging her cheeks. A compliment from Melody hit a bit harder when it came out of uniform.

The maid was off-duty today. Much to her chagrin—ahem, appreciation, the presence of Serena, Micah, and Rook meant she could afford a few holidays. Which the Rudlebergs had to force her to take, but nonetheless.

“I’m sorry to take up your time while you’re working.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Master’s signed off on it, so no harm done. I enjoy our talks.”

“As do I.”

They’d scheduled this little get-together well in advance—on the way back from the Leginbarths’ on the day of the interview, as a matter of fact. Upon hearing that Melody had the day off, Lect clumsily bumbled his way through explaining that he, too, would be free that day, and then gracelessly posited the idea of them spending the time together. In her magnanimity, Melody had agreed, cluelessness substituting for the knight’s ineptitude.

“Where’s Lect?” she asked. “I thought we were to have tea together.” Melody glanced around curiously.

“Did you, now? Are these the beginnings of a spine I’m witnessing? But I’m afraid he’s out at the moment.”

“Oh, is he?”

“Lord Leginbarth summoned him shortly before you arrived. Nothing seems to go right for that poor man.”

“That’s awfully sudden. Do you think they’ve made progress investigating the monster attack?”

“Difficult to say. The messenger didn’t seem particularly harried. I imagine he’ll return soon. In the meantime, you and I can catch up.”

“Yes, I suppose so. You were so busy with the dress that we never really had time to talk before, did we? Let’s right that wrong and get chatting, shall we?”

“About makeup!” the girls harmonized.

Melody, a frenetic fanatic for all things maid, and Paula, a fashionista extraordinaire, made for a dangerous duo when the conversation turned to cosmetics. Paula had a passion for dress and glam to match Melody’s book smarts, and together, they concocted a cacophony of femininity. It was almost a normal conversation by Melody’s standards.

An hour or so later, a knock came at the parlor door. The cacophony quieted.

“It’s Lectias. May I?”

“Oh, hello, Master. When did you return?”

“I called for you from the foyer and no one came.” A sigh issued through the door a moment before the knob turned and the owner of that exasperation followed. Lect entered with a tired expression and a letter in hand.

Melody stood and smiled. “Welcome back.”

“Thank you, Melody,” the knight replied.

Paula could scarcely hide her shock. This was the part when her master should have blushed and blubbered, but he’d replied with a complete sentence like a normal human. He was even smiling!

So he is growing a spine. But the question is, where did it come from? she wondered. Lect’s improvement put an innocent sneer on Paula’s face. Well, we’ll see how long it lasts. I’m just here for the entertainment. Don’t disappoint me, Master.

“I’ll go prepare some more tea,” she said. “Master, you have a seat.”

“Right. Thank you.” Lect glanced at the pair of sofas, noting the position of the tea cups already present, and consequently where he could sit. Melody and Paula had sat opposite each other, meaning he would have to sit next to one of them. The decision was obvious.

He made a beeline for the spot next to Paula, positioning himself diagonally across from Melody. The girls smiled, and the knight promptly looked away. Blushing, of course.

Paula judged this sequence of events most harshly. Not quite there yet, but maybe one day. Progress is progress, I suppose. The world’s least reserved all-works maid exited the parlor.

Lect and Melody faced each other.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here to greet you when you arrived,” Lect said. “I was summoned rather suddenly.”

“Duty calls. I understand. Why, if my lady willed it, I’d be at her side in a flash and a quick cast of Ovunque Porta.”

“I-I see. In a flash, eh?”

A summons from her lady meant more maid work. It would be a cold day in hell before Melody refused more maid work. Lect’s prospects were scant as ever.

“It’s strange you’d be called away on your day off, though. Was it urgent?” Melody asked. “Ah, but feel free not to answer if it’s confidential!” She waved her hands in a fluster. A knight had to be discreet in matters concerning their lord or lady. Not her most prudent question.

Lect chuckled. “It’s nothing of the sort. The opposite, really.” He handed her the letter. “It’s for you.”

“For me?” Melody took it and promptly studied the contents. “Is this from the academy? A date for my examination?”

“That it is. It was delivered to my lord, likely because of his endorsement. I was tasked with passing it along to you.”

“And that’s why you were summoned. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was on my behalf.”

“It was no trouble. Keep reading. When’s your testing date?”

“Yes, of course. Seems…in two days?”

Clear as day, the letter read September 8th, astonishingly soon, far sooner than Melody had anticipated.

My interview was on the third, she recalled. Presuming His Lordship spoke with the academy on the fourth at the absolute earliest, and today being the sixth… The eighth can’t possibly be feasible, can it?

“Lect, do cases like mine typically move this fast?”

“Not at all. My understanding is that His Lordship and the headmaster are old friends from their days at the academy. In all likelihood, they expedited your paperwork.”

“I thought as much.”

I’ve no intention of taking any of this lightly, but now I especially can’t afford to flunk this exam!

Melody shot to her feet. “I’m sorry, but I must leave.”

“I understand. A lot to prepare for.”

“Indeed. I intend to borrow my lady’s textbooks and thoroughly review them until the day comes!”

Lect stood too, grinning wearily. He wished they could spend more time together, but he couldn’t feign any surprise at this turn of events.

Just then, Paula returned with tea. “Sorry for the wait. Oh? What’s everyone doing on their feet?”

“I’m sorry, Paula, but I must go,” Melody said.

“What? Why? So soon? What did he do? Has he already resorted to violence?”

“Violence?”

“Paula,” Lect groaned. “That’s just plain hurtful.”

“Maybe a little. My apologies,” Paula said. “So why are you leaving? Who am I supposed to serve this tea to?”

“I’m very sorry. I’ve just learned when I’m to take my exam for the academy, and it’s only two days from now,” Melody explained. “I really must be going.”

“Two days? Goodness, that’s sudden, but I suppose I can’t blame you. Promise me we’ll do this again sometime, okay?”

“Of course. I had a lovely time.”

“We’ll prepare you a carriage,” Lect said.

“Oh, I couldn’t—”

“I insist. The streets are still unsafe.”

“They are. That’s why I’ll leave the way I came. Gateway—Ovunque Porta.” A plain door appeared in the middle of the parlor. “It isn’t the most proper way to take my leave, but circumstances being what they are…”

“You never quite get used to it, do you?” Paula mumbled in awe.

“Well, I, er, suppose it’s safer than by carriage.” Lect’s brows rose, but mostly in surrender rather than shock. “I can’t deny that.”

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Melody said. “If you’ll excuse me.”

She opened the door and passed through it into her room at the Rudleberg estate, turning back to wave one last time.

The door vanished the moment it shut behind her. With her letter in hand, she flew from her room.

“My lady, I require your textbooks!”

She’d scarcely made it down the corridor of the servants’ quarters before crying out to her lady.

Chapter 7:
Helicopter Papa

“ILLUSION THEATER—TEATTRICE.”

A white light enveloped the girl as her hair and clothes transformed in a blink. Melody became Cecilia, complete with Serena’s braids.

It was September 8th, the day of the exam, the test that stood as the final hurdle standing between Melody and admission into Royal Academy. She proceeded to the foyer to wait for her carriage. The matriarch of the house, Her Ladyship Countess Marianna, already awaited her there. And Luciana, of course, but that went without saying. Serena made four. Micah and Rook were cleaning up after breakfast. Melody’s big day had garnered quite the audience.

“Has His Lordship already gone?” she asked.

“The Chancery has had no end of work since the attack,” Marianna replied. She rested her cheek in her hand and breathed an airy sigh. “Being a landed nobleman, Hughes has been given his fair share, though personally I find his early mornings and late nights rather worrisome.”

“Melody, who’s coming to get you? Is it him again?” Luciana asked.

“Manners, my lady. We spoke of this,” Melody reprimanded. “And seeing as Lord Leginbarth is my sponsor, I imagine it will be someone from his house who escorts me. I would presume it to be Lect.”

The letter notifying Melody of the date of her exam had laid out such details, including that she would be escorted to the test-taking location, though not by whom. If not Lect, perhaps it would be His Lordship himself, but that seemed unlikely at best.

“Well, now I’m of a mind to join you,” Luciana said. “I can’t rightly leave you alone with that animal.”

“My lady, please. He has a name.”

“Good for him!” The lady huffed. “To me he’s him. He, him, that, this, those—whatever I feel inclined to address him as, really.”

Luciana was simply untenable when it came to Lect. Nothing Melody said or did seemed to change that. The poor maid was at a loss.

Then a shriek burst from the kitchen. “No! Bad Grail! You get back here!”

Confusion rippled through those gathered in the foyer as footsteps pounded closer. To no one’s surprise, little Grail came pattering in with a sausage clasped in his jaws. They watched him dart toward, past, and then away from them, vanishing before anyone could process what had just happened. Micah followed shortly after, shoulders heaving, and stopped to catch her breath.

“Is everything all right?” Melody asked.

“Miss Melody!” the girl whined. “I was organizing our ingredients when Grail came and snatched up a whole sausage.”

“Again? He’s become quite the glutton since we got back from the county. Where is Rook?” He could catch the pup easily.

Micah scrunched her nose. “That jerk doesn’t even care! ‘Just let him have it,’ he says. I keep telling him that’s how he gets spoiled!”

The miniature maid-in-training was positively fuming. Melody frowned in the direction Grail had scampered, then sighed.

Serena copied that frown with one of her own. “Micah, take a moment. I’ll find him. It shouldn’t take me but a second, but be prepared to greet guests should they arrive.”

“You’re the best, Miss Serena!” Micah watched, eyes shining with emotion, as her superior went off to bring peace to the estate.

Around the time Micah’s breathing had steadied, a horse’s neigh issued from beyond the door, followed a few beats later by a knock.

“Oh gosh, they’ve arrived!” Micah said. “Here I go!” Melody had become Cecilia, and Cecilia was not a maid, leaving Micah as the only servant present capable of receiving guests. She tottered over to the door nervously.

“Our paths cross at last. Fie, foul beast! Your days are numbered!”

“Luciana, dear, put your fan away,” Marianna said. “And what do you mean ‘at last?’ You and Sir Froude spoke not one week ago.”

“I’m setting the stage, Mother.”

“My lady, who keeps teaching you to say these things?” Melody quipped. “I mean, er, no fighting, everyone.”

“So sorry to interrupt,” Micah said. “But Lord Leginbarth is here.”

“Perfect. Tell her, Lect… What?”

“What?” echoed the Rudlebergs.

The man Micah had invited in, the man standing just past the door, was not the fiery-haired knight. This man had silver hair, bulging muscles, and a grizzled complexion. It was none other than Count Cloud Leginbarth himself.

“Good day, Madam Cecilia,” the count rumbled.

“G-good day, Your Lordship. I’m honored you’ll be my company for the day.” Melody was not so taken aback as to forget her curtsy. Neither were Luciana or Marianna, though they did not hide their shock quite as well.

“Welcome, Lord Leginbarth. I am Marianna, wife of Hughes Rudleberg.”

“I trust you’re well, Lady Marianna. We last met at the Spring Ball, no? My sister tells me you’ve become quite close ever since. I must offer my thanks for your companionship. She has developed reclusive tendencies since the passing of her husband, and I suspect their vanishing of late has much to do with you.”

“It is I who ought to be thankful, My Lord. Lady Christina and Lady Haumea’s tea parties have been a great source of comfort in this city with which I’m still so unfamiliar. I offer thanks on behalf of my husband as well. The Royal Chancery has been very good to him.”

“That is excellent to hear. I pray that continues, and that you’ll continue to be a friend to my sister.”

“I have every intention of doing so, Your Lordship.”

The count’s eyes went to Luciana next.

“This is my daughter, Luciana,” Marianna said.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Lordship,” Luciana said. “Indeed, I am Luciana, daughter of Lord Rudleberg.”

Melody had trained her well. Her curtsy was polished. Fancy Luciana was truly a masterwork, her brilliant smile the crowning jewel. Somehow, she had barely missed formally meeting Cloud at both the Spring and Summer Balls.

“Well met, Lady Luciana,” the count replied. “I’ve heard much about the Fae Princess, and even more about the Hero Princess, savior of the crown prince.”

“Y-you flatter me.” The young lady hid her shyness behind her fan. How convenient that it was already out and at the ready. The poor girl must have been utterly flustered.

“Now, we shouldn’t dally. Shall we, Madam Cecilia?”

“Yes, my lord,” Melody said. “Your Ladyship, Lady Luciana, I’ll return shortly.”

“Good luck,” Marianna replied with a genial smile.

“S-stay safe,” Luciana said, hiding a snarl behind her conveniently splayed fan. She did not fear Lect, but a count? Of Cloud’s standing, no less? She had met her match here. There would be no joining her precious Melody this time, and this irked her immensely.

“Let’s be off,” Cloud said.

“With pleasure,” replied Melody.

Soon after, their carriage rolled away, bound for Royal Academy. Silence cloaked the foyer in their wake. The Cloud Leginbarth had been standing here among them just moments ago.

“What’s gotten into everyone? Where is Gentlesister?” Serena said.

Grail yipped and howled in Serena’s arms. It was only one blasted sausage!

Even if anyone could have heard the pup’s wails, they would not have cared. Now was not the time.

Hooves clopped against stone, the only sound disturbing the interior of the carriage for some time.

“May I ask a question, Your Lordship?”

“You may.” Cloud tore his eyes from the window to meet Melody’s when she spoke. His demeanor was calm, almost strangely so.

“Why you, my lord? I expected Sir Lectias.”

Cloud’s calm wavered. “You mean to say you would have preferred him?”

Most men would have blanched at the power behind his words, the change in his mien. But not Melody. Not oblivious Melody.

“I’m sorry? No, my lord, I only meant that Sir Lectias is the only vassal of your house I’m familiar with. I never dreamed you would trouble yourself with this personally.”

“Oh. I-I see.” Cloud’s tension deflated like air leaving a balloon. Not even Lect was spared the sting of Melody’s cruel apathy.

“I thought surely you would have been busy. You’re certain I’m deserving of your time?”

“You were deserving when I interviewed you, and you’re being tested today because I endorsed you. It’s only right I should escort you.” Cloud diverted his gaze toward the window yet again, signaling the end of their conversation.

“Very well. I thank you again, Your Lordship.”

He’s a very dutiful man, Melody thought, casting her eyes out the opposite window.

Every odd couple of seconds, Cloud caught himself sending Melody furtive glances. What am I doing? he admonished himself. Truthfully, her escort for the day had been Lect, until the count impulsively decided at the last minute that it would be him instead. I simply had to see her again.

There could be no more doubt. In this girl, this utter and complete stranger, he felt Selena. He felt something he did not get from his own flesh and blood. This, he could no longer deny.

Truly I am a loathsome man, he lamented. How he wished this carriage ride could go on forever, that he could imbibe this peace endlessly.

I’m reminded of my past life, Melody thought. When my father and I rode a Ferris wheel together.

She had been quite little at the time, but it had been very much like this. Quiet. Calm. Scenic. She remembered the feeling of safety as her father watched warmly over a young Ritsuko. She felt many of the same things here. Perhaps it was the cramped nature of the carriage, similar to a Ferris wheel’s car. And that peace infected Cloud as well.

Suddenly, Melody blinked with realization. She was calm. And that meant she hadn’t been calm before. She’d been far more nervous than even she realized.

Strange, she thought. Maybe it’s His Lordship. He has my same hair. It reminds me of my old home.

Still she did not recall her father’s name. Ah, Melody. Classic Melody. Clearly she needed to reread that letter her mother had left after her passing.

The carriage stopped. They had arrived.

“Thank you for this, my lord,” Melody said.

“Oh. I suppose we should alight. Your hand, Madam Cecilia.” Cloud offered his, a certain surreptitious obliviousness in his eye that greatly resembled Melody’s.

They’d come straight to the front door of the academy’s main hall. There, the headmaster waited with the deputy headmaster and three first-year head instructors.

“Welcome to Royal Academy,” one of them said.

“My thanks for seeing us, Headmaster Ardora,” Cloud replied.

“Cecilia McMarden, my lord,” Melody introduced herself. “It’s a pleasure and an honor.”

Headmaster Mace Ardora swiftly escorted them into the hall. “The examination process is threefold. This morning you will take the written portion, while this afternoon we’ll assess your magical aptitude, as well as conduct your interview. Would that I could offer more in the way of preamble or hospitality, but time is of the essence. You’ll begin at once.”

“I understand.”

“Very good. One of our head instructors will proctor each step of the exam. You are to obey them and heed their every instruction. Lord Leginbarth, I expect we’ll be occupied until evening. You may return to your estate if it suits you.”

“I will remain,” the count replied simply.

“If…you insist. You’re free to avail yourself of my office. Instructor Bauenveil, she’s yours.”

“Yes, Headmaster,” one of the head instructors replied.

“Well, Madam Cecilia. Best of luck to you,” Cloud said.

“I’ll endeavor not to disappoint, my lord,” said Melody. She saw the headmaster and Cloud off with a smile.

Then it was just her and the big, burly, thirty-something beast obstructing her path. Really, he was just standing there, but the man was gargantuan enough to be misinterpreted.

“I am Regus Bauenveil,” the beast said. “Head instructor of first-year Class A and proctor of the written exam.”

A slender woman with dark-green, neatly done hair stood next to him. “I am Elstela Neilson, head instructor of Class B. I will be proctoring the magic portion of your exam.”

Next approached a dagger-eyed man with clean, parted brown hair. “Class C head instructor, Cheradio Klinhut. I, along with the headmaster and deputy headmaster, will be conducting your interview. I’m given to understand you impressed Lord Leginbarth in private, and his recommendation certainly speaks to that, but I intend to judge your qualifications objectively and stringently. You would do well to leave your complacency at the door, madam.”

“Of course. Thank you for your time, Instructors,” Melody replied with a curtsy most perfect and unfazed.

Despite their best attempts at intimidation, this maid was made of steel.

“What the hell are you doing here?” the headmaster asked.

“Am I not allowed here?” Cloud said.

The headmaster and the count retired to the former’s office, the deputy headmaster having exited after serving tea.

“I endorsed her,” Cloud said. “I should think it only proper that I see this through.”

“Under what law? Any man of your standing would have sent a representative. Unless you mean to tell me you went to all this trouble on a personal whim.”

Cloud neither confirmed nor denied.

“What are you doing, man? How can you afford to be here? What of your work?”

“I’ve finished all that needs doing today.”

“You’re a piece of work, Cloud. Don’t tell me you’re having untoward fantasies about a girl the age of your daughter.”

“Mace, that was a poor jest.” Cloud fixed the headmaster with a look that could cut steel. In his eyes raged the furious flames of an incensed parent, and Mace swore he could feel that fire physically licking at him.

The headmaster flinched. “D-duly noted, old friend. Forget I said any such thing. So, how do you intend to busy yourself until evening?”

“By waiting here.”

“Unfortunately, I’m not as blessed with freedom as you. I’ve too much work to bother entertaining you.”

“Pay me no mind then. What of lunch, by the way, if Madam Cecilia is to be here so long?”

“We aren’t going to starve the girl, Cloud. You’d best not be about to ask me for permission to eat with her.”

“Well, I… No, actually. I wouldn’t want to distract her.”

Says the most distracted man in all the city! Mace was beside himself. Who was this shy, diffident man? Certainly not the Cloud he knew. I’ve never seen him so temperamental. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was no better than…

The phrase “a mother hen” sprang to mind. Somehow, he managed to keep from screaming it at the count, but something was clearly off, despite the composure Cloud skillfully displayed. What was more, this was nothing like last time. When he’d come to finagle his daughter’s enrollment, the man had been a steel trap. What in the world was the meaning of all this?

Is she actually another daughter of his? Mace wondered. But they certainly didn’t seem to behave like family.

This whole situation reeked. Unfortunately for Mace, he was already neck deep in the landfill.

Chapter 8:
Examinations and Deliberations

THE WRITTEN EXAM FOR ENROLLMENT INTO Royal Academy consisted of four subjects, each plucked from the school’s core curriculum: contemporary literature, mathematics, geography, and history. The test taker tackled each subject back-to-back, forty minutes given for each, with ten-minute breaks in between. Material could include anything relevant to the test taker’s presumed grade level, meaning regardless of the semester one might enter after the exam, the test taker had to be prepared for content from any semester. Those who sought a Royal Academy-level education had to display Royal Academy-level aptitude and dedication.

This wasn’t to say the academy discriminated against those less academically inclined. Book smarts weren’t a prerequisite, simply a barometer for how well a prospective student might keep pace in a typical classroom setting. Ultimately, they would consider all aspects of the examination process, even intangible ones such as character, drive, and the like.

“Begin,” Regus Bauenveil boomed.

Melody took her written exam in the head instructor’s own classroom, Class A, sitting alone squarely in the middle of the room. Her first test lay before her: literature. Regus situated himself at the teacher’s podium, where he kept a firm, watchful eye over his charge. Most of his students found this particular charade unnerving and distracting, but Melody was not most students.

Answers poured from Melody’s pen. The questions were familiar, in the sense that they were structured the same as a typical exam back on modern-day Earth. There were passages to read, and the exam tested the student’s comprehension of subtext and authorial intent in those passages, as well as their rote knowledge of vocabulary.

I expected to write essays, given this world’s western tendencies, at least in comparison to where I came from, Melody thought. But these questions are all fairly simple. It seemed it wasn’t her critical thinking skills the academy sought to measure, but simply whether or not she met a certain baseline of literacy. This should be no problem.

Melody felt a little smug. She’d been more than prepared for essays, but comprehension problems were her specialty. Her pen was on fire.

Approximately twenty minutes later, Regus stood. Melody, never quite letting the head instructor out of sight throughout the exam, figured he needed to use the restroom, but then he sauntered toward her. Perhaps he meant to warn her or remind her of something? Melody decided not to waste time minding him.

Regus approached, circled behind her, and stood there. For several minutes.

I-is this part of the exam? she wondered.

Melody wanted desperately to know what was happening at her back, but there was nothing for it but to continue. Many more minutes passed before Regus quietly returned to the front of the classroom.

“Time is up,” the man declared.

With a soft sigh, Melody raised her head as he came to retrieve her test.

“Your ten-minute break begins now. Be back at this desk when it ends.” Regus slipped the papers into an envelope and exited the room with them.

Well, I answered every question and even managed to review them, Melody thought. I’m fairly confident, but it was an entire world ago that I last took a test. I’ve lost a bit of my nerve.

To confidently and brazenly complete each question with aplomb, only to have inadvertently made a humiliating mistake, was ever the fate of the intrepid test taker. Melody could only pray she had made a minimal amount of such errors.

Ten minutes later, it was time for the mathematics exam.

“Begin,” Regus announced.

Nothing subjective about numbers. I can breathe a little easier.

Answers came faster than ever. Truthfully, the mathematics taught at Royal Academy’s first-year level was only about junior high level by Japan’s standards. The world’s greatest prodigy had already mastered, and subsequently grown bored of, such trivialities by the tender age of six.

Again, Regus rose and stood vigil behind her. And again, he left her without a word. Melody and her steel-trap mind continued nonetheless until the forty minutes were up.

Geography was next, followed by history. Neither proved any particular issue, and so ended the written exams.

The instructor stood behind me during every one, Melody noted. I can’t imagine why.

Afterward, Regus escorted her to the staff dining hall, where she took an hour for lunch. Then came the magic exam.

“I trust you’re ready,” said Elstela Neilson, replacing Regus as proctor. “Follow me to where we shall measure your magical aptitude.”

“Yes, Instructor.”

The woman led her to an outdoor field, like the kind used for athletics except surrounded by walls.

“This isn’t something we normally test, Madam Cecilia, but we understand you’re a bit of a mage. We’d simply like to ascertain your capabilities.”

“U-understood.”

Melody dreaded this part more than any other. She could not afford to expose the secret of her true capabilities, and she still had absolutely no idea what constituted normal. She had to take great care not to exceed expectations by too much.

“Lord Leginbarth informs us that you can conjure ten castings of the Luce spell at once. Let’s begin with a demonstration, if you would. I’d like to see you move them to the best of your ability.”

“Yes, Instructor.” She’d had practice giving this particular show, at least. “Lamplight—Luce.” Melody turned her palms up, and from them emerged, like foam from the sea, ten magic bulbs of light. Then she spread her arms wide, and they fell into orbit around her.

Elstela was speechless. Simple though the Luce spell was, to cast it ten times with such ease was no mean feat, nor was commanding them all to move. And they didn’t simply move as one either. They each drew their own orbit around the girl, chaotic but not erratic, steady, uniform. She made it look so easy, but to individually manipulate separate spells, and without error or collision or any manner of imperfection? Plus, the orbits were changing in real time.

Elstela was speechless. Simply speechless.

“I-Instructor Neilson? Is this what you wanted?”

“Oh. Ahem. Yes. Thank you. You may dispel them.”

Melody clapped her hands, and the bulbs popped like miniature fireworks.

“Oh my…” Elstela said.

“Pardon?”

“D-don’t mind me. Have you anything else in your repertoire?”

“I’ll, um, see what I can do.”

Melody agonized. How to stay inconspicuous? If casting spells all at once is special, I suppose I’ll take things slow.

She began by casting Luce.

“Cecilia, you’ve already—”

She continued to conjure a simple water bubble. Then a flame, then a small cyclone, then a stone. Slowly, of course. She cast them one after the other. All at once.

Elstela blinked.

“How is this?” Melody asked.

“G-good. You may dispel them.”

Melody waved her arm like the conductor of an orchestra, and the miniature spells gleamed out of existence.

“That will conclude the magic test,” Elstela said.

“Thank you for your time, Instructor.”

“And, Cecilia, you’re entirely self-taught. Is that correct?” Elstela asked.

“Yes, Instructor. I’ve no real understanding of where my abilities stand in comparison to others, so I’d like to study properly. From the basics.”

“I see. Well, I personally hope to see you in Applied Arcane Studies in the near future.”

“Thank you!”

Next, after a short break in Class A, Melody was escorted to her interview.

Melody announced herself as she entered a new room in the school. The headmaster, deputy headmaster, and Class C’s head instructor, Cheradio Klinhut, sat facing her side by side at a long table, just like every other cliché interview or audition in existence. Some things went beyond the bounds of worlds. The headmaster instructed her to sit, and she did so gracefully.

“Let’s begin with your background,” he said. “Why do you want to enroll at Royal Academy?”

There wasn’t much to this interview that Melody had not already experienced with Lyzack and Cloud. It did much to quell her nerves and help her answers appear natural yet thoughtful. She spoke primarily to the deputy headmaster, while the headmaster stoically stared, and Cheradio glared.

I don’t think the intention is to frighten me, but I can certainly sense the roles at play here. The only interviews I’ve ever taken were for part-time jobs in my past life, plus the one with Lady Luciana. Gosh, I hope this is going well.

Ritsuko had died at only twenty, and this was a far cry from applying for a job, so those experiences weren’t particularly helpful. Besides, the matter with Luciana hardly counted for a number of reasons. Melody thought she was doing well, and her etiquette was on point of course, but without knowing how exactly they were grading her, even she couldn’t help a flutter of nerves.

“That will be all,” the deputy headmaster said.

“Thank you for your time.” Melody lowered her head before standing. When she lifted it, she met the headmaster’s eyes.

“We have everything we need, Cecilia McMarden,” he said. “We will deliberate, and you should hear our decision in the coming days.”

“Thank you. I look forward to hearing from you.” With a bow, she exited the room. Cloud was waiting for her outside. “My lord.”

“Well done. What did you make of it?”

“I’m fairly confident in the written portion, but the rest has me a bit nervous.” Her smile was half a grimace.

Cloud had to fight to keep his hand from her head. “By my estimation, you have nothing to worry about.”

“I can only hope.”

“You’re exhausted, no? I’m told you’re free to go. Allow me to escort you back to the Rudleberg estate.”

“You’re too kind, my lord.”

At last, it was time to go home. Back to her lady.

Several hours after Melody’s departure, when night draped Royal Academy in thick darkness, a meeting took place. The matter at hand: Cecilia’s admission.

Headmaster Mace Ardora scowled upon hearing her written results. “Am I understanding you correctly?”

“Yes, Headmaster,” replied Regus Bauenveil. “I’ve gone over them numerous times, and Cecilia McMarden has indeed earned a perfect score. In all four exams.”

Mace massaged his temples. “And the content is correct?”

“Naturally. The questions are fair and comprehensive.”

“We’re certain there was no cheating involved?” the deputy headmaster said.

Regus was quick to respond this time. “I suspected this myself and monitored her closely. Every stroke of her pen was sincere. The dishonest do not move with such confidence. I can say with certainty that she did not know the contents of the test prior to the exam.”

“Which can only mean she already has functional mastery over all the education the academy might provide her, at least at a first-year level,” the headmaster said. “Which begs the question, what good does admission do her?”

“Much,” Elstela said. “Cecilia McMarden must be admitted, Headmaster.”

“Elaborate, Instructor. How did her magic fare?”

“I can offer no objective scale with which to measure her, given the nature of spell casting, but believe me when I say the girl has staggering potential.”

“Do her talents know no limits?”

“As I understand it,” said the deputy headmaster, reading off of a written report, “she can cast ten, albeit simple, spells at once?”

Elstela leaned forward solemnly. “She can cast spells simultaneously—of different elements.”

“That can’t possibly be true.”

“It is. I saw it with my own eyes. Fire and water. She manipulated both at once. Concurrently.”

“This girl,” the headmaster breathed. “She’s a diamond in the rough.”

Many mages possessed affinities for multiple elements. That much was not strange. But even the most practiced mages seldom produced opposing elements together. It wasn’t a physical impossibility, but a practical one, akin to writing two different novels with a pen in each hand. Cecilia had done this with ease, and with five elements at once: fire and water, air and earth, plus light.

Indeed, they’d been simple spells, but they spoke to incredible talent. Indisputably.

“My fellow educators,” the headmaster said, “we may very well be in the presence of the next archmage. Instructor Neilson, Applied Arcane Studies is your field of expertise. What say you?”

“It will all depend on how she’s nurtured going forward, but I cannot deny the possibility. There’s also the matter of how much mana she wields, but given her lack of fatigue after what I witnessed, I would confidently estimate it’s a vast reservoir.”

“I see. Instructor Klinhut, how would you grade her interview?”

“I paid close attention to not only her answers, but her etiquette as well,” Cheradio said. “She’s clearly accustomed to speaking before those above her station. And her posture… Exquisite. The Angel truly lives up to her name.”

“The ‘Angel?’”

While the other instructors nodded, the headmaster cocked his head to the side.

“Haven’t you heard?” The deputy headmaster blinked in disbelief.

“Headmaster,” Cheradio said, “did you not attend either the Spring nor Summer Balls?”

He did not mean to glare. It was simply the way his eyes were configured, but it looked (and felt) an awful lot like glaring.

Mace recoiled. “I-I came down with something during the former. The latter, I simply arrived late. A, um… A broken wheel on my carriage, you see. Terrible luck.”

“Which is to say, you spent the evenings working,” Regus said.

Mace said nothing. He could not defend himself against the truth.

“It truly is a mystery how a man of such efficiency can stay so perpetually busy,” the deputy headmaster said.

“Well, it’s simple. Look where we are now. The man can’t seem to say no. It’s an endless cycle, I tell you.”

“Which would explain how he somehow hasn’t a clue who the Angel is, of all people.”

“One of you really must explain to me who this ‘Angel’ is and what she’s done to earn such a title,” the headmaster demanded. “You’re saying it’s Madam Cecilia? But she’s a commoner.”

“She attended the balls under the auspices of Sir Lectias Froude,” Elstela explained. “And every one has been a treat. She absolutely dazzles with her dances. Her most recent one with Princess Ciestine was especially bewitching.” The instructor sighed wistfully at the memory.

“You mean to tell me she can dance too?”

“I struggle to imagine we’ve much to teach her about it, frankly.”

Mace went back to massaging his temples as he recalled Cloud’s words, his warning to “expect to be surprised.”

Congratulations, old dog, you’ve done it, he admitted. I am well and truly in awe. Full marks on the written. Archmage-levels at magic. Impeccable etiquette. Skilled enough at dance to steal every ball she attends. Heaven above, how can one girl do so much?!

There was perfect, and then there was superhuman. Mace didn’t know whether to be impressed or terrified, but he finally understood why the count had been in such a hurry to enroll her in Royal Academy.

“So, all in favor of Cecilia McMarden’s enrollment—”

“Aye,” the entire room chorused.

“Thought so.” It certainly wasn’t bad news, just flabbergasting circumstances. “Now, where to put her. Princess Ciestine and Lord Leginbarth’s daughter are unfortunately joining Class A already, so perhaps a different class?”

“She really ought to be there, given her talents, though it’s certainly frustrating. Class B just recently lost a student, so if I was certain she could thrive there, I would suggest leaving her with me,” Elstela said.

“Right, her. Mana sickness, was it?”

“Such a shame too. She had a very bright future.” Elstela rested her cheek against her hand and sighed.

“Class C could fit her comfortably as well, but it’s true Class A would better befit her academic prowess,” Cheradio said. “Even with three additions, they would still be the smallest class, no?”

“Which is to be expected, given it’s His Highness’s,” the deputy headmaster agreed. “Still, the question is whether it would be proper to include Princess Ciestine, Lord Leginbarth’s daughter, and the Angel in his company all at once.”

“Cecilia McMarden is endorsed by Lord Leginbarth, is she not?” Regus spoke up after a quiet moment of thought. “In which case, is it not likely she and Celedia Leginbarth are connected in some way?”

That woke the room up.

“It’s true the count might have intended for them to attend the academy together, given the rushed nature of this arrangement,” the headmaster said thoughtfully. “Granted, he never said so himself.”

“Perhaps he intends to raise Cecilia to be his daughter’s lady-in-waiting,” Elstela proposed.

“It’s plausible,” Cheradio said. “I hear Lady Celedia lived as a commoner until His Lordship adopted her. She would be without connections among the peerage and require someone to assist in her daily affairs.”

“A role Madam Cecilia could fulfill perfectly,” the headmaster said. “In theory.”

And yet that isn’t at all how it seemed when he and I spoke, he thought. It was logically sound, but without hearing it from Cloud’s own lips, Mace hesitated to state it as fact. He crossed his arms and contemplated.

“You needn’t agonize, Headmaster. I’ve no qualms with taking her,” Regus said.

“You’re certain?”

“Not to imply she would be any trouble at all, but it would be a boon to ensure our most prominent students are all in one place. Is that not the purpose of my class? To better monitor persons of note?”

“His Highness, the perfect lady, the duke’s daughter, the Fae Princess. They aren’t enough for you?” Cheradio teased. “How avaricious.”

“I’m more than happy to share next semester if you really wish, Instructor Klinhut.”

Cheradio wouldn’t take the bait. He tactfully declined.

“Well, there’s hardly any need for debate if Instructor Bauenveil insists,” the headmaster said. “All in favor of placing Madam Cecilia in Class A?”

“Aye,” the room said.

“It’s settled. I’d like her acceptance letter sent within the next few days, addressed to the Leginbarth estate.”

“Headmaster,” Regus said, “would it not be more efficient to send it to the Rudlebergs?”

“Oh, yes, which is exactly why that’s not what we’re doing! I will make that man know my pain!”

“How unprofessional,” Elstela chastised.

“It’s the least he deserves for robbing me of sleep these past two nights. Why must my complexion suffer while his prospers?!”

“That is an easily rectifiable problem, is it not?” Cheradio said.

“This meeting is adjourned! I’m going to bed!”

“I actually have documents that require your attention before the day is out,” the deputy headmaster said.

“Damn it all, I yearn for sleep!”

In summary: Melody was officially a student at Royal Academy. What a joyous day.

Chapter 9:
Academy Bound

TWO DAYS AFTER THE EXAM, ON SEPTEMBER 10th, Lect paid the Rudlebergs a visit. A letter had arrived. Cecilia’s result was in.

He and Melody sat in the parlor. Joined by Luciana, of course.

“Why don’t they just send it directly here?” Luciana said. “It would be less trouble.”

“A, um, good question, my lady.”

The trouble is likely the point. Melody remembered the bags that hung under the headmaster’s eyes. Doubtless she was the cause, so she could stomach a little passive aggression in retaliation.

Lect handed her the letter. “Read it carefully.” He’d come with a sizable box as well but had yet to explain its purpose. It could come later.

“Thank you,” Melody said. “Gosh, I’m on the edge of my seat.”

“Let’s hurry and open it!” Luciana said.

Melody did, slowly and carefully. Lect waited with a patient grin. “Let’s see now. ‘Cecilia McMarden is…hereby accepted into Royal Academy.’” Melody looked at Luciana, who was rereading the letter over the maid’s shoulder. Their eyes met. “I did it, my lady!”

“You did it! Congratulations!”

“My lady!” Melody shrieked. “Nobles do not throw themselves at… Oh, fine! Just this once!”

“Yippee!” Luciana’s grip on the maid only tightened. Melody even hugged her back for once. Now was the time for joy, not admonishments.

Lect gave them a moment before clearing his throat, so as to remind them of his presence. He feared Luciana might never let go otherwise.

“M-my apologies,” Melody said. “I got a little carried away there.”

Luciana huffed. “Way to ruin it. Anyway, does it say what class you’ll be in?”

“Oh, yes. I ought to check. It says…Class A.”

“That’s mine! We get to be in the same class!”

“My lady!” Melody said. “Once was more than enough!”

“Psh, says who? There’s that stick in your butt again.”

“Says me! And you have got to cease with these vulgarities!”

Lect could only sit and grin while the girls tussled before him, a tangle of arms and unrequited love. Once it became clear they wouldn’t settle down anytime soon, he placed the box on the table between them. “Congratulations, Melody. This is for you.”

“My lady, I am begging you!”

“Fine,” the lady relented. “What is that? A gift? If so, shove it.”

“My lady!” Melody exclaimed.

“I would suggest you don’t ‘shove’ this anywhere,” Lect said. “She’s going to need it.”

“Oh? May I open it?”

Lect nodded, so Melody did, finding a uniform inside.

“Is this mine? But if you had this, then you must have already known that I’d been accepted.”

“We received two notices, actually. One for His Lordship and one for you. He informed me before I departed.”

“I see. That makes sense.”

“So are you going to try it on?” Luciana asked. “You should try it on. To make sure it fits and all.”

“A wise idea. I’ll have to order a replacement if anything is off.”

“You heard her, Sir Froude. Thank you for your visit, but your company will no longer be necessary. Farewell. Goodbye. See you never.” Luciana beamed.

Lect grimaced. “I, er, still had business to discuss.”

“Don’t be rude, my lady,” Melody said. “What business might that be, Lect?”

Luciana promptly sank into a sulk.

“There should be another letter,” the knight said. “This one is unrelated to your admission, if you’ll take a look.”

“Another letter? Oh. Would you look at that. ‘Notice of Term Resumption?’”

That revived Luciana. “Is the second semester starting?” She peered down at the envelope in her grasp.

“On…September 14th, it says.”

“Only four days? Don’t we get any time to breathe?”

“The city’s knights have prowled the streets for ten days and found no sign of monster activity,” Lect said. “They’ve increased patrols in the outskirts as well, but have reported no disturbances.”

“So we’re not on high alert anymore?” Luciana asked.

Lect nodded.

“Well, it’s a relief to know the capital’s safe,” Melody said.

“I suppose there’s still time to call off your enrollment,” the knight teased.

“Wh-whether or not that’s necessary is yet to be seen. I will protect my lady!”

Luciana swiped up the letter and waved it irritably. “So why haven’t I received this same notice?”

“It will likely come within a day or two,” Lect said. “Melody’s case is particularly extenuating, so the academy probably wanted to ensure she could get her affairs in order swiftly.”

“If efficiency is their goal, I don’t see why they can’t send her things to her own place of residence.”

Melody and Lect smiled innocently. They could see.

The Rudleberg estate was only the first of many to receive letters from the academy that day. Notices subsequently reached the residences of the other students.

“The second semester. At last.”

Anna-Marie Victillium held her letter high, craning her head back as she read. We finally have all five love interests in the capital…kind of. Prince Christopher, Maxwell, Lectias, Bjork, and Schroden—replaced by Her Highness, Ciestine. A colorful cast from all walks of life. Plus, we have a real candidate for the heroine who isn’t Melody or Luciana.

Celedia Leginbarth. She hadn’t run into the crown prince like Melody or faced the Jealous Witch like Luciana, but she did meet the most important heroine condition: being Cloud Leginbarth’s daughter.

Is she the Saint, though? I just don’t know.

Narratively speaking, she had to be the Saint, but practically speaking, so much of the story had changed that Anna-Marie couldn’t be certain she’d undergo the necessary awakening. In the lore of The Silver Saint and the Five Oaths, the Saint’s power explicitly was not hereditary. So what was it exactly? Herein lay the source of Anna-Marie’s suffering.

The lore book was pretty vague about the entire thing, she thought. Basically all it says is that the silver hair isn’t actually related to the Saint’s power in any way.

Resplendent, argent hair was the trademark of the heroine, and even her predecessor, giving rise to the notion that silver was the mark of the Saint. However, Anna-Marie recalled a compendium of extended information on the game’s setting that claimed the opposite.

She stood to gaze out her window. “The plot’s proceeding, despite deviations. The monster ambush is proof of that. The Dark One is out there, which means it will be unleashed someday. We need the Saint.” Silver weapons could only help so much. They could not fell the Dark One itself with such tricks. “I’ve got my eye on you, Celedia Leginbarth.”

There was another with the potential Anna-Marie sought. One Cecilia McMarden. The girl bearing the heroine’s name. Her hair was blonde, but she’d attended the Spring Ball with Lectias, as per the game’s narrative, and been present for the ambush. As far as Anna-Marie could tell, she was just as likely to be the Saint as Celedia.

But unless she enrolls at the academy, she’s out of the running.

Royal Academy was the main setting of the game, where the heroine would laugh, cry, fail, succeed, overcome, and ultimately slay the ancient evil for good. One day, she would even marry her beloved—one of the male love interests—but none of this could come to pass if she wasn’t a student. Cecilia was not, and thus merely one of the substitutes Anna-Marie had theorized about.

The second semester will reveal a lot, particularly with how she interacts with Schroden… Ciestine, rather. Assuming she gets events. Granted, neither role was being played by their lead actors, but there was nothing for it. Anna-Marie shook her head. What-ifs will get me nowhere. It’ll all work out. I will see a happy ending!

Anna-Marie looked up into the sky, crumpling the letter in her determined grasp.

“Resuming at last, is it? I really must offer my sympathies to the academy’s faculty. How many scheduling hoops will they jump through before they forget which way is up, do you think?” Ciestine said.

“I think that’s a rather flippant thing to say about circumstances that very much affect you, Your Highness,” her lady-in-waiting, Kalena, said.

Ciestine clutched her notice of resumption. In her free hand, she held a glass of wine…-looking fruit juice. The handsome princess made even the simple act of sitting into a portrait of grace. She might have preferred wine, in truth. Nothing but cultural convention, not even Theolan law, prohibited drinking alcohol at any age, but seeing as she was here in an official capacity, Ciestine saw fit to abstain. To the best of her abilities, anyway.

Inclined at an angle, supported only by a single elbow, her legs crossed, Her Highness cut a disheveled yet alluring figure. One Kalena might have scolded her for if she had any reason to believe the princess would listen.

“It seems they’re accepting dormitory residents starting tomorrow,” Kalena said. “You are to move the day before the semester begins.”

“I’d move today, if only they’d let me. They’ve had me locked in this palace for ten days now. For good reason, I suppose, but I yearn for something new. I’ll be staying in the Upper Hall, I presume?”

“The top floor of the women’s Upper Hall, Your Highness. I assure you, preparations for the transfer are proceeding apace. To that end, I will be absent in the coming days.”

Ciestine chuckled. “Yes, of course. Many servants’ brains to pick. Much gossip to hear.”

Kalena needn’t have answered. Beyond a mere lady-in-waiting, she was also a skilled spy whom Ciestine had trained well. All to usurp her fool of a brother, Schroden. There was much groundwork to lay if they were to sabotage their hosts.

“Your Highness, I assume it doesn’t bear repeating that my eyes and ears can reach only the palace and the city streets.”

“Right. The academy will be my responsibility. Do what you do best; I know you will.”

“Naturally, Your Highness.” Kalena retreated with a bow.

When the servant was gone, Ciestine placed her glass on the table before her and sank more deeply into the couch’s cushions. She reached toward the ceiling, grasping at nothing.

“So ends our brief moratorium. It finally begins.”

There is much to do, she thought. Secrets to unfurl. Temptations to whisper. Seeds of unrest to sow. But if I’m to wield information as a blade, I must whet my edge among my peers. Surpassing Christopher in academics would be a start. She realized her hand was trembling. A mocking smile flitted across her lips. I’m nervous. How unlike me. I needn’t be. This kingdom will fall—for the empire.

A different smile intruded into her thoughts: Cecilia’s. Why? They had danced at the Summer Ball, a cryptic competition, and Ciestine had lost.

“Next time, things will be different,” she had said.

“We’ll see about that,” had been Cecilia’s reply, accompanied by that smile, that brilliant smile that spoke of both innocence and joy.

I suppose that’s the last I’ll be seeing of her. Cecilia wasn’t a student, so it was unlikely their paths would cross again. Doubly so because the girl was a commoner. I do hope she deigns to attend the next ball. F-for our rematch, of course.

Why she was making excuses to herself, she did not know, but it softened the trembling of her hand.

“Is your health holding up, my lady?”

“Yes, Sir Sable. Thank you. I’m very glad to have made it in time for the next semester.”

Celedia, having just read the notice, gave the knight one of her melancholic smiles.

At last, I will fulfill my promise to you, Leah. Every route to every man’s heart is mine for the conquering! I, Tindalos, will crush them all! Er, beguile? Charm? Yes. Quite.

“Oh, I just can’t wait!” Celedia gazed at the notice, eyes filled with anticipation.

Sable was happy for his lady.

Chapter 10:
Cecilia Moves Out

THE ARENA OF LEARNING THAT NEIGHBORED the royal palace bustled on the morning of September 14th, the first day of the second semester at Royal Academy.

The Rudlebergs joined the cavalcade of carriages weaving through the streets of central Paltescia. Rook drove through the school’s gate and onto the academy grounds, transporting Luciana, Micah, and Melody (currently Cecilia). Micah was in uniform, of course, but Luciana and Melody had yet to change. Classes would begin in the afternoon, and they had to finish situating themselves before then.

“You’re certain I should arrive in the same carriage as you?” Melody asked. Or, rather, Cecilia McMarden asked. She harbored ample misgivings about the optics of riding with a noblewoman.

“Positive,” Luciana replied. “I say you can ride with me, so you can ride with me.”

“You mind the most trivial things, Miss Melody,” Micah said.

“Careful, Micah. We’re officially on campus now, so watch what you call her.”

“Right! So sorry about that Miss Ce—Madam Cecilia!”

“I worry about you sometimes.”

Luciana eyed Micah languidly. Ever since hiring her, Melody and Serena had been trying to get her to drop the “Miss,” and to this day she hadn’t broken the habit. Serena, frankly, had given up. Melody was not about to force the issue and simply smiled at the silly girl.

“I’ll get used to it, I promise,” Micah said. “And don’t you worry. With me and Rook here, Lady Luciana’s room is in good hands, Miss Melody!”

“There’s no hope for this one.”

“What?! Why not?!”

That Micah hadn’t even realized her slip of the tongue only worried Luciana more.

Melody sighed. Her mind was entirely elsewhere. “My lady, I really think I ought to—”

“No,” Luciana said flatly.

Melody shrank down with a whimper. But was it merely the carriage casting doubt upon her brilliant mind? Oh, no. This misgiving had taken root all the way back on the night of August 31st—technically the early morning of September 1st—when Melody made a bold declaration.

“By day, I’ll be Cecilia the student. By night, I’ll be Melody the maid, always at my lady’s beck and call! Who says I can’t wear two hats?”

The Rudlebergs did, as a matter of fact.

Melody’s original plan had been to attend the academy as Cecilia, playing the part of a normal student so as to ensure her lady’s safety, then moonlighting as a maid at all other hours of the day, but the Rudlebergs quickly shot that down. Luciana was over the moon about spending her school days with her favorite maid, but even she viewed this proposed double life as a step too far. Still, Melody tried to convince her lady. Oh, how Melody tried, pontificating on the importance of being at her side at all times and ensuring her needs were met, and even pointing out that when you really thought about it, she worked from dawn to dusk already, so replacing her afternoon hours with studying at the academy wasn’t really placing any extra burden on her.

But the Rudlebergs wouldn’t hear a word of it. They acknowledged the technicality about work hours, but while Melody was accustomed to maid work, she was not accustomed to being a student while also guarding Luciana. They would not be known as the cruel employers who worked their maid to the bone.

It was a great mercy upon Melody’s soul that she’d at least managed to secure permission to work in the evenings after school. She would not have survived the ordeal otherwise.

“Listen, I… Okay, I don’t really understand where you’re coming from,” Luciana said. “But attending the academy was your idea. You can do a little work when classes are over.”

“Okay,” the maid demurred.

“Don’t worry, Miss Melody!” Micah said. “Miss Serena forced me to take an accelerated course on dorm service, so I’m better than ever! I even got a sixty on my tea-making!”

“Up from forty-two,” Luciana said.

“I tried real hard! I had to! Or else.” Micah’s eyes suddenly went blank. Luciana carefully looked away.

“Sometimes I forget they aren’t actually sisters,” Melody muttered.

“Sometimes I remember how nice she was when she first hired me,” Micah said.

Micah’s training had been slow and steady at first, but following Melody’s enrollment plan, things took a turn. Without Melody on maid duty, Micah had to see to Luciana’s dorm room. Serena could have taken up the mantle, but then who would look after the estate?

Enter: the Dorm Service Crash Course. An intensive, three-day lesson on all things related to domestic work in a dormitory setting that took place from September 11th to September 13th. With a curriculum inspired by Melody’s own notes from her first semester on the job—and a fair yet firm hand—Serena put Micah through her paces and then some. To Melody, it was a magnificent three days wherein she had the entire estate’s responsibilities all to herself. To Micah, it was nightmare-inducing. Today she was feeling fine, though, so all’s well that ends well.

All of this to say: Micah was a new maid. Though not at all efficient, she could manage Luciana’s room just fine. It was a bittersweet thing for Melody.

“Oh, how can I rejoice in my colleague’s growth when it comes at the cost of my own work?” Melody said. “Curse these conflicting feelings!”

“How can you say that, Miss Melody?! After everything I went through!” Micah said.

It was only thanks to the clopping and clacking of other carriages rolling by that the girls’ chatterings weren’t overheard by the entire campus.

“Volume, Micah,” Rook mumbled wearily. This, too, would go unheard.

A while later, they approached the dormitory and parked the carriage on the shoulder of the road. Others continued to filter by as Melody alighted. Luciana would continue on toward the Upper Hall while she went by foot to the Common Hall.

Now that she was in public, she fully donned the mask of Cecilia McMarden, bowing to her generous host, Luciana, daughter of Count Rudleberg. “Thank you for your company, my lady, and the honor of riding alongside you.”

“I’ll see you this afternoon, Cecilia. In homeroom.”

The carriage trundled on. Melody started walking when she could no longer see it. She clutched a rather fine leather trunk in both hands. Handmade, of course, out of the pelts of boar-like monsters from the Great Vanargand Wood.

Melody sat on the bed in the room the hall supervisor showed her and let out a breath. “Here we are. Safely moved in.”

It was her first time in the women’s Common Hall, which she found quieter than expected. The supervisor had said most students finished their move the day prior, many even having remained all throughout the summer recess. Commoners traveling from farther out often didn’t visit home even during summer recess, so the Common Hall never fully closed. The vast majority moving back in had families in the capital, hence the inundation of last-minute carriages.

The supervisor, a woman by the name of Marissa and wife of Baron Noble of the Robe, had said Cecilia was her first arrival all morning. With all her own children grown and graduated, supervising the women’s Common Hall was her means of finding new fulfillment. Naturally, the supervisors of the noble halls were nobles themselves, so it was only proper that, even for the Common Hall, the head administrator ought to be on somewhat equal footing. Melody had heard all of this, including that Marissa was in fact a widow, that her eldest had been granted a title, and that she lived in the dorm herself, all on the way to her first-floor room.

The room was plainer than Luciana’s. Far plainer. But certainly livable. There was a bed, a chest for storage, a desk, a closet, a simple kitchen, and even a bathroom. Well, sans a bath—that was shared. Still, this was without a doubt comparatively lavish, especially when one considered that in past years, commoners hadn’t had a bath at all. Students had to commute to a separate bathhouse in the city to properly groom themselves, and they certainly couldn’t do without when among aristocracy.

Baths were indeed a luxury in this world. Most commoner households did not have them, and it was only thanks to the visionaries Anna-Marie and Christopher, with their exceedingly Japanese senses of hygiene, that the academy at last graced the commoner dorms with them. Not that Melody would ever know any of this.

She opened her trunk and began unpacking. “I’d better hurry. I’m taking longer than I thought I would.”

Marissa had been kind enough to give the new student a tour of the facilities, which hadn’t been particularly swift. Luciana had likely already arrived at the Upper Hall.

Melody hung her uniform in the closet, the final item in her trunk. “Teattrice—release.” She was enshrouded in white, and then transformed into her maidly self once again. “Gateway—Ovunque Porta.”

A plain door appeared. Melody quickly turned the knob and scurried through.

“Sorry I’m late!” she said.

“Oh, welcome back, Melody.” Luciana was already relaxing in her Upper Hall dorm with a cup of tea.

“My sincerest apologies. I was delayed. Now, where am I most needed?”

Melody brimmed with excitement. She’d spent all morning as Cecilia and done nothing in the way of maid work. There wasn’t long until class started, but she was itching to get even a little in before then.

“Melody,” Luciana began, “I want you to listen, and don’t get upset, okay?”

“Whyever would I get upset, my lady?”

Luciana couldn’t bear to meet the maid’s gaze, which only perplexed Melody further…

Until Micah arrived to end the stalemate. “My lady, I’ve finished tidying your room.”

“What?!” Melody’s mouth hung agape.

“Oh, you’re back!” Micah said.

“M-Micah, would you be so kind as to point me to whatever luggage remains to be unpacked?” Melody said.

“Nothing! We got it all done!”

“Nothing? Y-you did all of it?”

“Sure did. I’m telling you, Miss Serena’s crash course really worked wonders. I finished in record time! Rook made it easy, taking care of all the heavy stuff, especially now that he remembers how to use magic. Not that he’s anywhere near your level, but even a little certainly comes in handy.” Micah puffed her chest out proudly.

However long Melody’s tour had taken, it shouldn’t have been enough for them to finish everything without her. That they had was commendable. Rook handling the heavy lifting and Micah the organizing had been an excellent division of labor, and together they, well, still didn’t rival Melody but were a force to be reckoned with all the same. Micah had even served Luciana tea. Just what had Serena taught that girl?

Melody brimmed with pride. So much…pride? “I was too late.” She fell to her knees.

“Melody?!”

“Miss Melody!”

She had the look of a tragic hero who had arrived a second too late. Such was the calamity of having no work to busy oneself with. To Melody, anyway.

“Micah, which room are you—” Rook blinked. “What’s happening?”

“I-I could go for another cup of tea, Melody!” Luciana said. “One of yours!”

“I’m still only at sixty points!” Micah said. “I’d love some pointers!”

“I’m still needed? Truly?” Melody rasped.

What’s happening? Rook could only wonder.

Chapter 11:
New Arrivals

“DELICIOUS AS EVER,” LUCIANA SIGHED.

“Thank you, my lady.”

Failing to assist with any of the unpacking, Melody instead gave Micah an impromptu lesson on tea brewing, then set about making lunch. Classes would begin after lunchtime, so students were expected to eat beforehand. Thankfully, it was just the distraction Melody needed to shake off her funk.

“Oh, I ought to be going. If you’ll excuse me, my lady,” she said.

“Already?”

School began at two, and it was only noon, far too early to be rushing about.

“I’m a new student, so I’m to see the head instructor before class.”

“Oh? That’s a shame. I was looking forward to walking together.”

Melody giggled. “I would love to on any other day.”

“I’m taking that as a promise.”

Acknowledging her lady, Melody promptly returned to her room, where she transformed. “Illusion theater—Teattrice.”

A few minutes more, and she was wearing her school uniform. A cursory inspection revealed nothing out of place. With her Royal Academy-issued bag in hand, she departed.

As she was locking the door behind her, the next one over opened. A girl with dark-green hair that flowed to her shoulders in waves let out an uninhibited yawn before noticing Melody. A pair of sleepy, golden eyes studied her. Melody greeted the girl with a simple hello.

“I thought I didn’t have a neighbor,” the girl said.

“I just enrolled. Cecilia McMarden. I’ll be in Class A.”

“A new student in Class A? But I heard there were only two of those, a princess and a count’s daughter.”

“It was a, um, sudden arrangement.”

The girl hummed thoughtfully. “Then you’re not just any new student. You must be pretty smart if you made it through the exams. I’m Carol Misweed. Same class as you.”

“What a coincidence. Pleasure to meet you, Carol.”

“Maybe it’ll even happen again. Anyway, I’ve gotta get going.”

“One moment, please.”

“What?”

The edge to Carol’s tone didn’t escape Melody’s notice, but she’d be remiss to let her go. “There’s something in your hair.”

“My hair? I don’t… Oh, shoot. The worst place to get paint.” A splotch of red pigment contrasted brilliantly with her dark hair. It was completely dry. “Darn, and it had to be oil-based. I can’t even wash it out. The bath won’t be open.”

Carol fiddled with the lock in irritation. One had to wash any kind of paint out of hair promptly, but oil-based paints were especially troublesome when they air dried. Getting it to uncongeal wasn’t easy without special paint thinner, but that was bad for the hair for other reasons.

I suppose she could cut it out, but her hair is already short, and the clump is right in the middle, Melody thought. That won’t do at all.

Carol didn’t. Think, that is. Wasn’t in the habit of it. “Off it goes.”

“What? You’re just going to shear it off?”

“Wouldn’t be my first time. It’s almost time for class. Gonna be late.”

Melody rushed to stop her as she turned back toward her room. “W-wait! I, er, happen to have just the spell!”

“You what?”

Carol somehow doubted that, but Melody, despite her better judgment, felt that this was a reasonable thing to risk exposing her magic for. A tragedy in the making, this was.

Just the part with paint, Melody thought. Carefully. Subtly.

“Spick-and-span—Lavanemergenza.”

A magic bubble enveloped the afflicted lock of hair, glowed, then vanished with a glimmer and a pop. Not a trace of paint remained, and Carol was left in mild shock.

Carol felt where the paint had been. “Wow. Handy spell you’ve got there.”

“Yes, um, I suppose it is.”

“It definitely is. Thanks a lot.”

“I’m glad I could help.”

“Anyway, see you in class.”

Carol went on her way. Melody remained for a split second before remembering her own business.

“Right. Better get going.”

“Excuse me. It’s Cecilia McMarden, enrollee.”

“Ah, good.” Class A head instructor Regus Bauenveil approached Melody as she entered the faculty office.

“Good morning to you, Instructor.”

“And you, McMarden.”

“Thank you again for this opportunity.”

“You’re most welcome. Follow me, if you please.” Regus escorted her to a parlor off to the side of the faculty office, where she took a seat on the sofa at his insistence. “You are only one of three students I’m to add to my class today. Do you know of them?”

“Princess Ciestine and Lady Celedia, is that right?”

“Indeed. Once they arrive, we’ll go to the classroom together, and I’ll introduce you all at once. I ask for your patience in the meantime.”

“Of course.”

Regus returned to the office. Ten or so minutes later, the door opened again. Melody stood.

“Wait here, if you would,” the instructor told the new arrival.

“Of course,” the girl said. “Good morning, Princ—” She gawked.

“Good morning, Lady Celedia,” Melody said.

Sporting the exact same first-year uniform as Melody, the good lady Celedia Leginbarth stood flummoxed. Her gentle bearing and grace seemed to abandon her the moment she laid eyes on her company.

“Lady Celedia?”

Celedia remained frozen only a step beyond the door, her eyes narrowing. Was it something Melody said? Had she not smiled brightly enough?

Regus, towering behind Celedia, regarded her curiously. “Is something the matter, Leginbarth?”

“Oh, um, it’s nothing,” she finally replied, clumsily recovering her trademark grin. “We meet again, Madam Cecilia.”

She joined Melody on the couch. Regus took this as his cue to leave once again.

Celedia smiled at Melody. “I’m so sorry for my prior behavior. I was simply so shocked to see you.” She tittered a little stiffly.

“I’m shocked to be here, frankly. This was all very sudden, you see. I apologize for the fright I seem to have given you.”

“Think nothing of it. I’ve clearly still much to learn about poise.” Her smile turned melancholic. “But I recall you implying at the ball that you had no intention of attending the academy. What changed your mind?”

“It started with the attack. Monsters assailed us on our way home.”

“I heard, yes. How dreadfully frightening. You’re unharmed, yes?”

“I am, thanks to the valiant Sir Lectias and Lord Maxwell.”

“That is a great relief.”

“Your concern means so much. This event was something of a wake-up call for me.”

“How so?”

“I realized my own weakness, that I’m not as strong as I thought. I thought to apply here, so that I might study magic more thoroughly.”

“I-I see. A wake-up call indeed.”

One that was all my damned fault!

Celedia’s eyes glazed over, much to Melody’s confusion.

Before she could ask what was wrong, the door opened again. They stood at once. This visitor would not be a surprise.

“Good morning, Princess Ciestine,” they said together.

“And a good morning to…you?” The second-born princess of the Rordpier Empire, Ciestine van Rordpier, was dressed in a man’s uniform, which she wore exquisitely despite her gender. Her smile, too, was exquisite, but it faltered when she noticed who was joining Celedia. A single eyebrow went up in mild shock. “Madam Cecilia, yes?”

“I’m honored that you would remember me, Your Highness.”

“I would sooner forget my own name than the dance we shared,” the princess said. “It gladdens me to see you again.”

“I’m humbled and overjoyed to be in your presence.”

“R-right this way, Your Highness!” Celedia suddenly said, inserting herself between the two.

“You’re too kind, Lady Celedia.” Ciestine sat on the sofa, the other two joining her shortly after.

“I will call upon you when it’s time,” Regus said. “Can I offer you tea while you wait?” He directed this question specifically at Ciestine. It didn’t behoove instructors to practice favoritism, but when one of your students was a princess of a foreign nation, sometimes you made an exception.

“Thank you for asking, but don’t trouble yourself. It won’t be long anyway.”

Regus shot Melody and Celedia looks. They both declined as well. Even if they were thirsty, the decision had been made for them by the royalty in their company.

“It will only be a moment,” the instructor said before leaving.

And then there were three.

“A mere two weeks it’s been since our last meeting, my ladies.” Ciestine chuckled. “And now we’re to be classmates. I’m in good company.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Celedia said.

“The feeling is mutual,” Melody said.

“You especially, Madam Cecilia, are a surprise. What made you decide to enroll?” the princess asked.

Melody gave the same answer she’d given Celedia.

Ciestine furrowed her brow. “It was you they attacked. I had my suspicions.”

“You did?”

“It caused quite the commotion. Monsters in the capital. Even a foreigner has ears to listen and a mind to connect the dots. Information has a way of circulating to the most unlikely places. I’m just thankful no harm befell you. Silver linings, eh?”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself, Your Highness.” Melody and the princess shared a moment of empathy, then she noticed Celedia making a face. “Is something the matter?”

“I’m sorry,” Celedia said. “I was simply wondering. You said you chose to study here so you could learn to defend yourself, which is understandable of course, but this is hardly an easy institution to enter. How did you enroll so quickly?”

“Oh? I thought Lord Leginbarth might have told you.”

“My father?”

“It was only thanks to His Lordship’s endorsement that I was able to enroll.”

“He endorsed you?”

“That’s right.”

“He endorsed you…”

Celedia became strangely distant. Ciestine could read her, though. The girl was dejected that her own father had gone to such lengths for a classmate without telling her. His own daughter. Doubtless she felt a tad alienated. Ciestine could relate. In the past—and the present too, really—she’d often been snubbed by her own family. Oh, the affected smiles she had to wear.

So perhaps it was sympathy that urged her to say, “I’m sure he was simply busy with the monster matter.” Meager consolation though that was.

“Yes. You’re right. In truth, we’ve only shared a single dinner together since my arrival. He’s very busy, I’m sure.”

“Y-yes. Of course.” Ciestine could not bear the brunt of the girl’s melancholy and so looked away.

So, she thought, Lord Leginbarth is the sort of man who doesn’t dine with his own daughter.

There, Celedia thought simultaneously. That should do it, no? Pity might be my way to this one’s heart.

While the princess was arriving at conclusions, the girl was remembering that she was a walking sigh. Cecilia’s interference had messed everything up, and Celedia had to recover somehow. She searched her memory for all the ways the heroine might act in such a scenario. Melancholically, of course. Innocence was like a drug when paired with misfortune, one that the princess would imbibe, ultimately leading to their inevitable romance, cementing Celedia’s place as—

“It has been a difficult time, hasn’t it?” Melody said. “I’m staying with the Rudlebergs, you see, and His Lordship, my host, has been positively inundated with work at the Chancery. Why, even leading up to the ball, he lamented how little time he had to so much as dine with his family. I can only imagine how Lord Leginbarth has it, being the vice-chancellor.”

“Oh. Well. That does sound harrowing,” Ciestine said with a hint of realization.

Excuse me?! Celedia fumed.

Melody rested her cheek against her hand and sighed, leading Ciestine to surmise that there had been more truth to her consolation than lie. Celedia was about ready to explode with frustration.

How can one girl be such an incessant nuisance without even being the Saint?! Wretched little…! So intense was her anger that she was reverting back to Tindalos.

“It’s time. With me, please,” Regus announced.

If I could brutalize this girl, I would, but so help me, I will be rid of you one way or another! I’m the heroine, you filthy mortal!

I’ll have to lay low at first, Ciestine schemed meanwhile. Become a part of the class. Gain connections. For the Empire.

I will protect my lady! proclaimed Melody. Dark mana, red mana, blue mana, I don’t care. Nothing’s touching a hair on her head!

Class A was about to become quite the motley gathering.

Chapter 12:
The Part Where Character Intros Are a Whole Thing

CLASS A WAS ABUZZ WITH TALK BEFORE homeroom officially began.

“To think we get to meet Princess Ciestine in person. Oh, I simply can’t wait.”

“How tragic it is that someone so handsome wasn’t born a man. Or perhaps it’s a blessing. That way we can be as close to her as we please.”

“I’m interested in Lord Leginbarth’s daughter, personally. We never got to speak at the ball.”

“I only caught a glimpse of her, and she was certainly beautiful.”

Anna-Marie strained her ears as she read. Or pretended to read. The words on the page exited her brain as quickly as they entered. No surprise that those two are the talk of the school. A substitute love interest and a maybe-heroine. If nothing else, you can count on them being hot.

Coupled with the fact that the former was a princess and the latter was a daughter no one knew the vice-chancellor even had, their popularity was a given. The commoners in the class, not coming from affluent backgrounds, were only just hearing the rumors, and their shock was evident.

“I-is it true, Lucif? An imperial princess? Oh gosh, I’m so nervous now.”

“You needn’t be. Treat her as a classmate, or you run the risk of patronizing her, Perriand.”

“I know that, but it isn’t that easy.”

“Not to worry,” Luna reassured a commoner girl. “We had the honor of meeting her at the ball ourselves, and she’s a very amiable individual. Isn’t she, Luciana?” No response came. “Luciana?”

“Huh? Sorry, what?”

“Why are you staring at the door?”

“Oh, um, just wondering when they’ll show up is all!”

Luna giggled. “Impatient as ever, I see.”

Talk of the new enrollees was on everybody’s lips. Even Anna-Marie caught herself glancing toward the door. They’ll be here soon. And when they arrive… Her eyes darted to Christopher, who was currently mingling with the duke’s daughter, Olivia Rincot’dor—and enjoying every second of it. He would be womanizing while I’m here trying to stay focused. He is so in for it after class. She had to use her book to hide a nasty frown. Anyway, I need to be on my game. Get close to the two newcomers so I can learn more about them. Lady Celedia the maybe-heroine especially.

Finding the heroine—the Saint, rather—took precedence over any potential love interest. In a perfect world, Celedia would be the Saint, making Anna-Marie’s life considerably easier, but she couldn’t be sure.

Appearance-wise, she fits the bill. Silver hair. Blue eyes. She can only be the heroine. But why doesn’t she feel like her? Anna-Marie had half convinced herself it was because she wasn’t used to seeing her in the flesh, as opposed to through a screen, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. It was one of many inconsistencies making her doubt whether Celedia was who she seemed to be. If she awoke to her powers, it’d be so easy to tell, but the conditions for that are, well, not exactly easy to trigger.

As far as she knew, the Saint could only awaken by doing battle with the Dark One, and it happened gradually in the game over multiple encounters, typically involving Bjork operating under the Dark One’s influence. In the final battle, Cecilia would awaken fully.

In summary, Anna-Marie didn’t know how to test her theories without throwing the girl to the proverbial wolves, and that was a risk. If Celedia wasn’t the Saint, she’d invariably die.

Not that I could do that even if I wanted to. Who knows where the Dark One is? Anna-Marie had debated this problem at length with Christopher. Fruitless conversations, every one. All they could do was carefully and meticulously investigate the girl. I’m not going to happen upon a solution by arguing with myself, that’s for sure. After school, we’ll know more. It all comes down to Princess Ciestine. If Lady Celedia is the heroine, you, Your Highness will be the key. If Christopher ever stops drooling over Olivia, that is!

Just then, Regus Bauenveil entered the classroom. The students quieted and scurried back to their seats. Ciestine and Celedia followed the beastly man.

Anna-Marie locked on to them. First trial: introductions. Come on, show me what you’ve…got? Her confidence wavered. A third new arrival joined them, a whole entire third girl trailing behind the first two and leaving Anna-Marie dumbstruck. What? What am I looking at?

“My name is Cecilia McMarden. I am honored to make your acquaintance.”

What is she doing here?!

All of her plans went to the wind. As they were wont to do.

Regus, Ciestine, Celedia, and Cecilia entered the classroom in that order. The first two new students inspired curious whispers and a boisterous hum, but when the third arrived, those murmurings stalled, unsure. Even the nobles among the students hadn’t heard about the third new student, not even Anna-Marie or Christopher.

Melody’s eyes naturally gravitated to Luciana. It hadn’t taken her even a second to locate her. The lady poked her fingers ever so slightly over her desk and gave a furtive wave and a giddy grin. Melody next spied her neighbor, Carol Misweed, seated beside the window and staring idly through it. She gave no indication that she’d even noticed Melody, save for the hand she’d raised slightly off her desk. A greeting?

Melody smiled. Two people had already taken the time to acknowledge her.

The sight smote the classroom. How brilliant. How enigmatic.

“Isn’t that the Angel?” someone whispered.

The nobles stirred. This was the mystery girl who’d descended upon the Spring and Summer Balls, delighting and bewitching all with her dances. Though that intruder had overshadowed the Spring Ball, and monsters the Summer Ball, those privileged enough to have borne witness to the Angel’s beauty wouldn’t soon forget it.

“It is,” someone said. “She danced with Princess Ciestine at the Summer Ball.”

“And the Fae Princess at the Spring Ball. Oh, it was so very lovely.”

“She arrived hand in hand with her at this most recent ball, didn’t she?”

“With matching dresses too. Words don’t do it justice.”

A low murmur too hushed and indistinct to pick up from the instructor’s podium suffused the classroom. Instructor Regus did not care how quiet the commotion was, though, and cleared his throat like a boom of rolling thunder.

“Silence. You will show respect.” Silence fell. The classroom was Regus’s to command. “These are your new classmates. Introduce yourselves, please.” He looked at Ciestine first, his intention obvious.

Ciestine smiled and stepped forward. “I am Ciestine van Rordpier, second princess to the Rordpier Empire, my homeland. I come to your vaunted institution with hopes of sowing peace between our nations. I wish to get to know each and every one of you, regardless of status. So please, stand not on ceremony.”

The princess flashed her teeth, and so blinding was that smile that many of the women couldn’t help but wail in what was, in all likelihood, not agony. Schroden’s stand-in did not lack his effect on women.

Ciestine withdrew, and Celedia took her place. Her smile was weaker and seemed to arrive with greater difficulty. “I am Celedia, daughter of Count Leginbarth. I must say, I’m rather nervous about being here, but I hope we can be friends. Please forgive me in advance for my missteps.” She offered a clumsy bow.

Though she garnered no wails, several men couldn’t help but sigh, captivated by her innocence and taken prisoner by the overwhelming urge to protect this perfect, defenseless being. Such power from a mere maybe-heroine.

Before retreating, Celedia cast her gaze back to Cecilia. Dark, hazy tendrils slithered over Celedia’s skin. I’ll do a little tampering with her. Ensure her introduction is disastrous.

First impressions were everything, after all. If Cecilia failed here, it would spell the end of her nonexistent social life. All Celedia had to do was mess with the girl’s head a little, and she’d bring about her own downfall. A simple task.

Or so she thought.

What is this feeling? I’m hesitating. As if… As if I know I’ll fail. Tindalos felt it. Not as Celedia. It was deep and instinctual, a fight-or-flight instinct telling it to fly. But why? Is she…? Can it be?

Had the Sangreal found the Saint? Was this phenomenon those instincts at work? Celedia examined Cecilia more closely, searching for signs of mana, but found nothing.

A trick of the mind then? What did I feel just now?

Celedia stepped back for Cecilia. At last, it was her turn.

“My name is Cecilia McMarden. I am honored to make your acquaintance,” she said, and not a word more. Then she bowed, and when she rose again, a smile graced the classroom.

All felt its blessing, men and women alike. All thought the same thing, regardless of gender. Pretty…

Indeed, an angel had descended upon them. Beauty was not in short supply at this gathering of high society, but this was a masterpiece that all could appreciate.

Anna-Marie clutched her face, pinching her nose. I-I’m gonna pop a blood vessel! She’s so friggin’ cute! This girl’s charm stat is busted! Ciestine and Celedia were plenty pretty, to be sure, but Cecilia was in a league of her own. So much grace and elegance packed into one little smile. What if we just said she was the heroine? Can we just do that, please?!

How perfect that would be. If only.

Melody recoiled as she took in the state of the class. As heads cooled, gazes heated, particularly the men’s. Melody remained blissfully ignorant of that last, but not Luciana. She was keenly attuned to such looks, and they were testing her patience.

The Angel was a commoner, a mere commoner, someone well within the grasp of noblemen with ideas. Ideas and desires.

Oh? This could work out excellently, Celedia thought. A sneer clouded her heart. A little dark magic to elicit their illicit desires, a few dire experiences, and Cecilia would flee the academy. Her mana surged, preparing to set this plan in motion.

“An addendum,” Regus said all of a sudden, “Cecilia McMarden is here under the auspices of Lord Leginbarth.”

Just like that, the dark desires dissipated. Being sponsored by Count Leginbarth was tantamount to being his ward. The students of Royal Academy could intuit what would happen if they did anything to someone under the protection of one of the most powerful men in all the realm.

A chill passed through the few men who’d come close to turning their thoughts into reality. They laid not even their eyes on Cecilia anymore.

“We have an understanding,” Regus said.

It would not be easy wrangling a class boasting three new charges of such distinction, but if anyone could do it, Regus could. Class A boasted no shortage of such intimidating gatherings.

“You’ll find your seats in the back,” he said.

The girls headed to the very back of the classroom and took their seats. The air in the room shifted over the next several seconds. No one quite knew how to feel about this new arrangement and the three powerhouses looming behind them in a neat little row.

It was pure awkwardness. That was the name for this feeling. Christopher and Anna-Marie could feel it too, but they endured it relatively well, since they’d seen this coming from the start. Still, it was hard to ignore the uncanniness of the three standout desks that had clearly been crammed into the room at the last second.

Regus paused. “Shall we shuffle seats?”

He was met with resounding approval.

“What? But why?” Melody said.

“Why indeed,” Ciestine said.

“Strange, isn’t it?” Celedia said.

Quite the trio they made.

Chapter 13:
A Humble Gathering

THUS THEY CHANGED SEATS. BY LOTTERY. IT was up to fate now.

“We’ll begin with the enrollees,” Regus said. “Come and draw.”

The confused trio of girls approached, not really understanding much other than that they would change seats after only just receiving them. They came to the front of the classroom and drew lots. The other students did the same, gradually filling the seats and following the chart drawn on the blackboard.

Unfortunately, Luciana and Melody did not find themselves particularly close to one another. Melody ended up in the dead center of the room and miraculously far from literally all of the people she knew. Looking to her right, she could see Luciana, somehow neighbors with Luna yet again. To her left, Ciestine. Back right, Anna-Marie. Back left, Celedia. Possibly the worst outcome of the entire lottery, however, was the cosmic cruelty that placed Anna-Marie and Christopher next to each other yet again.

“It seems not even luck itself can keep those two apart,” someone commented.

“We’ve a royal wedding on the horizon,” someone else added.

The royal couple answered such remarks with smiles, of course. They kept the screaming tactfully to themselves.

For a mercy, Melody was not entirely alone. She sat next to someone, just not someone she could claim to know. “Hello again, Carol.”

“Neighbors again, huh? Sure, I guess. Hey, Cecilia.”

Melody noted the disinterest in the girl’s voice, but after their encounter in the Common Hall and the wave she’d given earlier, Melody refused to call the girl rude. I would have preferred being close to my lady, for safety’s sake, but I won’t complain about this.

Poor Luciana’s puppy dog eyes went entirely unnoticed. Conversely, the look Luna was giving Luciana went just as unremarked.

Regus was simply relieved to see this temperamental bunch apparently appeased. “This ought to work.” The newcomers were nicely dispersed, and everyone seemed pleased with the new arrangement, excepting those next to the women of interest, but that was to be expected. “Now, let’s begin our belated homeroom.”

Orientation officially began. There were two things of particular note for first-years embarking on this new semester, the first being electives. Thus far, they’d taken electives on an interim basis, observing the second-years’ lessons and narrowing down their selections. Come October, the electives would officially enroll the first-years. Students had to apply to each of their desired electives’ head instructors by the end of September.

Electives ran for the full year. Courses would go all the way until September of a student’s second year, whereupon the student could enroll in new courses. Students were free to change subjects, and indeed many electives included a mix of first- and second-years.

“In short, have your applications filled out and ready to submit by October,” Regus said. “They will not be accepted after the deadline. Do not miss it.”

The second item of note concerned an event known as the Festival Ball, a Royal Academy-sponsored function taking place at the end of October. In short, it was a fantasy otome game’s take on a school festival.

The balls Melody had attended—the Spring and Summer Balls—had only involved the upper crust, sponsored and held by nobility as they were. The Festival Ball was open to all students, high and lowborn alike, and the student council and a collection of representatives from each classroom handled the planning of the event. Before the nighttime dance, the festivities included all-day events and entertainment hosted by the classes, and even electives.

“You must choose your representatives by the end of September, as well as state what you intend to host. Preparations will begin in October and typically take the majority of the month,” Regus explained. “You’ve time to think, but do try to come to a consensus promptly.”

Electives and a festival, Melody thought. I’m here to protect my lady first and foremost, but it is exciting getting to take part in school life. She smiled, remembering her high school days and the festivals they would put on. Naturally, she was a perpetual proponent of the cliché maid café. A proper café with proper maids, of course. Long skirts. Not a sliver of visible skin. I recall everyone treating me differently after that lesson on brewing tea. I wonder why.

Always hellish, Melody’s teaching style, in this life and the last.

Regus hoisted a bundle of papers onto his stand. The thud it made captured everyone’s attention.

What’s this?

“Don’t tell me…” someone whispered.

“Again?” another hissed.

The bold ones let out audible groans. The discontent spread like a wave through the classroom, missing nobody but a confused Melody.

Regus’s eyes narrowed. “That concludes everything you need to know about the coming semester. Now, I’d like to ascertain just how many of you used your summer recess effectively.”

A test? On day one? The instructor did not look in a joking mood, and Melody’s classmates were already languidly preparing their writing implements. A glance at Luciana revealed her doing the same. Right. They held early midterms last semester too, on account of the late start.

Perhaps this was more of the same, given the similar circumstances. They couldn’t just skip exams, Melody supposed. She retrieved her own implements as test packets consisting of every subject made their ways around the room.

“We will conduct every test at once,” the instructor said. “You have one hour. Pace yourselves. You may begin.”

“Pens down.”

Someone howled. “Come back, summer! I’ll do better this time, I promise!”

Melody set her pen down, and someone quickly collected her test. Now, she could only wait for the results. I think I did well. I suppose we’ll see.

“I will post your results tomorrow,” Regus said. “Your rankings will be public. This concludes homeroom. Dismissed. Remember your curfew.”

With the instructor’s departure, a measure of calm returned. Conversations about what people intended to do with the rest of the day bubbled up. With no electives to attend today, some headed toward other adventures instead.

“Mecilia!” Luciana wailed. She looked one bad word away from a mental breakdown.

“Yes, Lady Luciana?” Melody continued cleaning up her desk.

“We aren’t next to each other!”

“And that’s something worth sobbing over?”

“Heck yes it is!” Her cheeks puffed up like a child throwing a tantrum.

Melody chuckled. Beside her, a chair scrapped over the floor, and Melody found her neighbor standing. “Leaving, Carol?”

“Got things to do,” Carol said.

“I see. Take care.”

“If there are things at the academy I need to ‘take care’ about, we’ve got bigger problems. Excuse me, Lady Luciana.”

“Misweed,” the lady acknowledged.

The commoner girl left quietly. Apathy seemed her modus operandi, but she didn’t forget her manners in regards to nobility.

“You know her, Cecilia?” Luciana asked.

“We’re dorm neighbors. I said hello to her this afternoon.”

“We haven’t talked much. I don’t really know her myself.”

“She’s a good person. Why, she even waved to me like you did when I entered.”

“Hm.” Luciana stared in the direction Carol had gone. “I guess she’s just a little dry.”

“Luciana, have you told her?” Luna asked.

“Good day, Lady Luna,” Melody greeted. “I’m glad to see you again.”

“Cecilia, good day. Quite the two weeks it’s been, hasn’t it? I was aghast when I heard you were the ones attacked in that carriage. I’m thanking my lucky stars nobody was hurt.”

“As am I. Thank you for your concern.”

Luna returned her attention to Luciana, her patience visibly fraying. “So? Did you tell her or not?”

“Oh!” Luciana yelped. “I nearly forgot!”

“You’d forget your left foot if you could.” Luna shook her head.

“Tell me what?” Melody asked. There shouldn’t have been any more classes. She intended to walk her lady home, of course, but had she forgotten something else?

Luna beamed. “We were talking about maybe holding a social.”

“A social?”

“Seeing as you’re new here, we thought it might be nice to get all our friends together. Make sure everybody knows everybody.”

“That would be lovely, but right now? You don’t need to prepare?”

“It won’t be anything that involved. Starting tomorrow, we’ll all attend our electives, and it’ll be that much harder to get together. So we were hoping to do it as soon as possible, unless that conflicts with your schedule.”

“Not at all. I’d love to attend, Lady Luna.”

“Oh, good! But full disclosure, we’re in the middle of recruiting as we speak.”

“I-I see this was a very recent idea.”

“Well, we did put it together while Instructor Regus was giving his spiel,” Luciana confessed.

Luna giggled. “I’m so glad we wound up next to each other again.”

“If I can’t be next to Cecilia, I’m definitely glad I got you! Am I lucky or what?” Luciana crossed her arms and puffed up. Luna and Melody could only laugh.

The two ladies split up, heading in opposite directions to go invite Lucif, Perriand, and even Luciana’s childhood friends Beatrice and Milliaria from the other classes. Luciana returned with the latter two in tow.

“Hello again, Cecilia,” Beatrice said. “I must say, I was surprised to hear you’d enrolled.”

“Likewise,” Milliaria agreed. “I’m glad you did, though.”

“I’m happy to be in your company again, my ladies,” Melody replied.

“Salutations, madam. I am Lucif Gelman. Pleasure.”

“I-I’m Perriand. It’s nice to…meet you.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet both of you,” Melody said. “Please, call me Cecilia. We’re all common folk, no?”

Introductions out of the way, Luna said, “That’s everyone. We’re all okay with this group?”

“A larger one is bound to become unwieldy,” Beatrice said. “Do you think we can still reserve a salon?”

“I’m afraid those have all been snatched up.” This voice came from outside the group.

“Your Highness!” Luciana exclaimed.

Prince Christopher stood just outside the group, shadowed by Anna-Marie, Ciestine, and Celedia.

“Good day, Your Highness,” Luna said, curtsying.

Melody and the others followed suit.

Christopher grimaced. “I can never be rid of formality, can I? Even here.”

“I meant no offense. You were saying something?”

“Yes, the salons. I happened to reserve one myself some days ago, and it happened to be the last one available. I’m afraid you’ll have no luck.”

“Goodness, I see,” Luna said. “Thank you for letting us know. I’m sorry, everyone. It seems this idea was too sudden after all.”

“That’s okay, Luna,” Luciana said. “We can do the social in my room.”

“Your room? Then I suppose that means I won’t be attending after all,” said Lucif, the only man of the group.

“Oh, right. Men aren’t allowed in the women’s dormitories. Um, okay, what now?”

“If I may,” Anna-Marie spoke up. “You’re welcome to combine with our social.”

“Yours?” Luciana said.

Anna-Marie grinned. “Our intention was to get to know the new enrollees, but it escaped me that Madam Cecilia would be among them, embarrassing as it is to admit. I was hoping to include her in any case, and that’s when I heard you all discussing your own plans.”

“The salons are plenty spacious,” Christopher added. “It should take only minor finagling to fit the five of you.”

“Your Highness, you’re certain we’re worthy to be in such company as yourself and Her Highness?” Melody asked.

A gathering that included royalty, a marquess’s daughter, and the vice-chancellor’s daughter was quite an imposing one, not at all the sort of place commoners had any business being anywhere near.

Ciestine stepped forward. “Positive. Are we not classmates within these halls? As I said, stand not on ceremony. It is the only way we can foster a true relationship. Wouldn’t you agree, Prince Christopher?”

“Wholeheartedly,” he replied. “I would make the same invitation to every one of our classmates if I could without making it sound compulsory. I’ll dream small this once. You’ll allow me that, won’t you?”

Under the blinding incandescence of not one but two handsome, beaming grins, Beatrice couldn’t help but wince. Under her breath, she cursed the sudden loss of her sight, though thankfully no one heard her.

“This is agreeable to you, Lady Celedia?” Ciestine turned to her.

She wavered before managing a smile. “C-certainly. I would be glad to get to know you all.”

Inwardly, beneath her melancholic joy, she cursed the sudden and meddlesome appearance of complications to her designs, though thankfully no one heard her.

“Well, Madam Cecilia, yours is the only opinion we’ve yet to hear,” Christopher said. “Will you join us?”

Melody glanced at Luciana. She and the others nodded. “We would love to.”

“Excellent. Let’s prepare the venue at once.”

Chapter 14:
The Social

IT ONLY TOOK ABOUT AN HOUR TO MAKE THE necessary adjustments, and then they were off to the salon. “Salon,” as it happened, was a French word originally referring to a kind of reception room for guests, like a parlor, eventually coming to mean a gathering of highly esteemed persons. At salons, cultured individuals would come to discuss the sciences, the arts, and everything in between. The Kingdom of Theolas, being an aristocratic society, was no stranger to such forums. Indeed, even Royal Academy boasted facilities for such events, such “salons,” according to an otome game.

The facilities mimicked a typical noble’s manor. Students wishing to make use of them, in the name of fruitful discourse, could reserve individual salons, each equipped with a kitchen and restroom and other necessities so as to prevent awkward intermingling between disparate groups. Tea would typically ensue.

As with anything in Theolas, the salons, too, were at the mercy of social hierarchy. Status and purpose of use could limit the kinds of rooms available.

The opposite held true too, of course.

“Holy cow,” Luciana muttered.

The “room” they were escorted to was not a room at all. They had commandeered the entire building. And though it was still technically smaller than even the humble Rudleberg estate, it was far too large for their purposes.

“I suspect this has been waiting here all this time,” Luna murmured.

Given that the crown prince was, well, the crown prince, and that he was to become classmates with one Princess Ciestine, it stood to reason that they would have words to share, and thus be in need of a venue in which to do so. Any other noble of high enough standing to demand such a thing, primarily dukes, would have thought it prudent to cede their claim. And so the building had likely been left vacant for just this occasion.

Eventually, they came to a particular room containing a fancy buffet. Servants lined one of the walls, bowing and welcoming the group as they entered. This earned many points with Melody. She supposed this was a special salon staff, and she immediately fixated on the maids among them.

We have these people to thank for transforming what was supposed to be a modest tea party into such a grand spectacle, she thought in amazement. Such excellence. Such humility. The very picture of servitude. Oh, how I wish I could have joined them.

“Everything okay with you, Cecilia?”

“Yes, my lady. At your service, my l—”

“Your what?”

“Nothing, Lady Luciana. So sorry, Lady Luciana.” Melody abruptly remembered where she was, and who she was supposed to be.

The servants handed out glasses. Once everyone had one, Christopher stepped forward and raised his. “Now, modest though this may be, let this meeting of friends begin! After our final guest arrives, of course. What are you waiting for, old friend? Come in!”

The door they’d just entered through opened again and in stepped a man Melody recognized at once.

“I tried to tell you I have no place among you first-years,” he complained.

“And we’ll not rehash the argument here. It’s a friendly get-together, not a formal function.”

“Lord Maxwell!” Luciana exclaimed.

Indeed, Maxwell Reclentos, the second-year who was the crown prince’s closest friend, and also the man many presumed to be the next lord chancellor, joined their gathering. Reluctantly, though with a hint of amusement, he greeted his underclassmen. “Good day, Princess Ciestine,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“Likewise, Lord Maxwell. I heard tell of your bravery, and I’ve been dying to hear the tale from your own lips.”

A whimsical sigh rose from some of the girls, led by Beatrice. Two monuments to beauty met face-to-face. In a shoujo manga, this moment would have been framed by flowing roses.

Christopher raised his glass again. “Once more, with feeling. To a meeting of friends! Let us savor this short respite and make merry!”

The other glasses rose with a resounding, “Cheers!” And then they drank.

Needless to say, there was no alcohol. Royal Academy was a place of learning, after all.

The scattered, varied conversation centered on the new enrollees. Which was to be expected, as they were the only three present not already acquainted with everybody else. Groups naturally formed around each of them.

“Medical Chemistry and Medical Science. Fascinating choices for electives.”

“M-my father studies them. I, um, want to do the same,” Perriand said.

“That’s a lovely goal.”

“What about you, Cecilia? Have you decided what to take?”

“Applied Arcane Studies, I think, but that’s all I know for sure.”

“There’s so many electives it makes it hard to choose, doesn’t it?” Perriand said. “I’m still trying to decide if I want to take any others or use the time to study and immerse myself more.”

“I hadn’t considered that. I suppose I’ll have to now.”

“I-I’m only thinking out loud. Don’t let it weigh you down.” Perriand cast her eyes down, which was ironically where they were most visible through her long bangs. Still, this was her at her most talkative. Speaking with a fellow commoner helped soothe her terrible nerves.

“So, is she coming back? Is she withdrawing from the academy?” Luciana’s volume shot up high enough to invade Melody’s conversation.

“She isn’t withdrawing, to the best of my knowledge,” Beatrice replied. “It’s a…hiatus, I’ve been told, but it very well could become permanent.”

Melody turned to them. Perriand too, her curiosity piqued.

“Is someone withdrawing from the academy?” Melody asked.

“No, no, it’s only a hiatus for now, I’ve been told,” Beatrice said.

“It’s someone from her class,” Luciana said.

“What happened?” asked Melody.

“A classic case of mana sickness, I’m afraid,” Beatrice said.

“‘Mana sickness?’” Melody cocked her head. She’d never heard of such a disease.

“It’s, um, technical name is exogenous manawave hypersensitivity,” Perriand explained.

“Do you know very much about it?”

“Yes, well, only that it’s similar to anemia. Symptom-wise, that is. Lethargy. Chronic vertigo. Difficulty walking. It can also cause insomnia, and in its late stages, it can leave someone completely bedridden.”

“That sounds horrible. ‘Exogenous manawave hypersensitivity,’ you called it? Then I take it mana has something to do with the onset?”

“That’s right. It’s a very localized phenomenon. The ambient manawaves of certain places propagate at wavelengths that degrade some people’s health. Prolonged exposure worsens the symptoms.”

Melody looked toward Beatrice. “And that’s why this girl had to leave?”

She nodded solemnly. “She’s a commoner. It began over the summer, and it got to the point where she couldn’t get out of bed, like Perriand said. They thought it was syncope at first, given the heat, but she got worse and worse until they finally diagnosed her.”

“Is there no medication that can help?”

“Not with any degree of reliability, with our current understanding of such things,” Perriand said. “The only thing that helps is leaving the area where onset occurs.”

“A hiatus is more than understandable in that case.” Luciana hung her head sadly.

Beatrice shook her head in disappointment. “It’s such a shame. She was so smart and dedicated. I certainly hope a hiatus is all it ends up being, but…”

“What can you do if your body simply tells you no?”

“Instructor Neilson says it’s common to lose a student or two to mana sickness every few years. It’s no wonder, with the Great Vanargand Wood so nearby.”

“A blightland as big as that, it certainly makes sense.” Luciana crossed her arms and nodded.

Melody’s eyebrows rose. “The Great Vanargand Wood. I’ve heard of that. Where exactly is it?”

All three girls looked at her in confusion, the kind of look one directs at someone making a tasteless joke. Melody returned their stares with confusion of her own. There was no humor on her face. She did not, in fact, know where the Wood was.

Still not quite believing her, Beatrice pointed awkwardly. “To the east. Right next to the capital. Across the wall that stretches north to south. You should have seen it when you came in. Did you not?”

“The east, you say?”

But the only forested area I know to the east is… Pieces clicked together. Her mind flashed back to the first day she became her lady’s maid. They had been short on funds, so she’d thought to forage and hunt for their food. Up she’d flown, and to the east she found it: the woods that would become her stomping ground. The wall had appeared a thin line from so high up, especially contrasted against the mass of towering greenery, so she hadn’t even noticed it. So the forest I use. It’s…

“Having fun?”

Melody squealed and jolted. The man behind her flinched.

“Oh, Your Highness. My apologies,” she said.

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“The fault is mine for being distracted. I was lost in thought.”

“What do you say we both take part of the blame and call it even?”

“I would accept those terms.” Melody smiled, relieved by the prince’s kindness.

That the prince’s cheeks flushed red was a matter of course, for this was the same sight that made a classroom swoon.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked again.

“I am. I couldn’t ask for better company.”

“Excellent. You know, I’m still not quite over the shock of having you with us. You told us at the ball that you weren’t a student, but you must have been in the middle of the examination process at the time, is that right?”

“Oh, no. I took the exams six days ago.”

“Pardon? Six? Did you say six?”

“Yes, that’s right. On September 8th.”

Christopher blinked. For this, much like the blush, he could not be blamed. “You tested on the 8th, and they expedited you so you could attend on the 14th?”

“It would seem so. I can only imagine the trouble the faculty went through.”

“Yes, I… As can I. That explains some things.”

“Oh?”

“Forgive me. Talking to myself.” He smiled wearily.

Right as Luciana saw her chance to enter the conversation, a new participant inserted herself between Luciana and her goal.

“Long time no see, fair lady. It feels like just a few hours ago we were speaking in the faculty office.”

“Princess Ciestine,” Melody greeted.

The second princess of Rordpier was newly free from her conversation with Anna-Marie and Celedia, who followed her. Next in her sights was Cecilia. “I just couldn’t wait to see you again,” she said with a playful lilt.

Melody giggled. “I can see that. I’m always happy to talk with you, Your Highness.” And she meant it. Few could match Ciestine when it came to ballroom dancing.

“Apologies for intruding, Prince Christopher, but I hope you don’t mind me joining.”

“Not at all,” the prince replied.

Any sparks that may or may not have flown when their eyes met was merely a trick of the light.

“Say, Madam Cecilia, have you any interest in horseback riding?”

“Horseback riding?”

An odd, guttural grunt of surprise intruded. Human in origin, it seemed to come from all around. Yet when Ciestine searched, she found nothing out of place. Nobody betrayed a hint of anything but geniality. Not Christopher, not Anna-Marie, not Celedia, and certainly not Luciana, who glowed with an aura of tranquility and inner peace.

“Er, anyway, yes,” the princess continued. “Do you know how?”

“As well as anybody else, I suppose.”

She had ridden horses as Mizunami Ritsuko during her long-winded and all-encompassing journey toward all things maidly, but she hadn’t kept up with the skill in this life. Perhaps it would come back to her once she got back in the saddle, so to speak.

Ciestine grinned. “Well enough to join me for a ride this weekend?”

“Together? With you, Your Highness?”

“I’ll go too!” blurted two voices at once.

Luciana and Celedia leaped between Melody and the princess. They looked at each other for a beat, surprised at their unintentional chorus, before Luciana fixed her eyes on Cecilia and Celedia on Ciestine.

“Cecilia, I really think you should take me! I can’t ride or anything, but I can sit behind you!” Luciana pleaded.

“Your Highness, I implore you to allow me to join you!” Celedia said. “I’ve always wanted to ride one of those majestic steeds, but I haven’t the skill. I would be honored to experience it at your side.”

Melody and Ciestine recoiled. “No” did not seem an available option beneath their demanding petitioners’ pleading gazes.

“I, um, have no objections,” Melody told the princess.

“N-neither do I, I suppose,” Ciestine said. “Then we’ll make it the four of us.”

“Yippee!” the assailants cheered. They even shared a high five, earning them some suspicion that they’d coordinated this. They quickly fled from each other after coming to their senses.

What am I thinking?! Celedia admonished herself. Touching hands with a girl who very well could be the Saint?!

What am I thinking?! Luciana admonished herself. High-fiving the girl who snubbed Melody and hasn’t even apologized?!

They might have made better friends than they thought.

Ciestine chuckled. “You may have won in the ballroom, but on horseback? You just might have met your match.”

“I don’t fully understand the terms of this competition, but if it’s a fight you want, it’s a fight you’ll get,” Melody replied.

“Hold those horses,” Christopher interjected, a shame though it was to stand in the way of such sportsmanship. “As a representative of the kingdom that hosts you, Your Highness, I must ask you to conduct yourself with prudence. It’s a matter of security, especially with monsters about.”

“I have every confidence that your realm is secure. We need nothing more than a small cohort for formality’s sake, no?” Ciestine’s lips curled into the shape of a smile, but also something much more. They spoke to a tenacity Christopher could read well.

After a period of tense silence, he was the one to surrender. “Very well. I’ll speak with the court, but I insist you venture no farther than the royal family’s personal ranch, not far from the city walls. We will provide a guard, and I’ll attend as well.”

“Why, you’d do us the honor?” Ciestine said.

“In that case, might I invite myself as well?” Anna-Marie spoke up.

“Another joins the fray,” Ciestine said.

“Well, seeing as you and Madam Cecilia are riding in pairs, I’d be remiss to send His Highness off all by his lonesome.”

Beatrice squealed, and would have kept squealing if Milliaria hadn’t thrown her hands over her mouth. Things were getting steamy between the royal couple.

“Thick as thieves, are you? Fine by me,” Ciestine said.

“Then it’ll be the six of us this weekend,” Anna-Marie said. “Prince Christopher and I, you and Lady Celedia, Cecilia and Lady Luciana. You’ll make the arrangements, Your Highness?”

“Of course,” Christopher said.

“This promises to be a most exciting outing,” Anna-Marie said with a titter.

Well, this certainly ballooned, Melody thought. I haven’t ridden a horse since the ride I took with Schue at the county, but I’m looking forward to it.

And on the social went until it came to a quiet conclusion.

Chapter 15:
Behind the Scenes

REWINDING TIME TO SHORTLY BEFORE THE beginning of the second semester…

“A social?” Christopher repeated in his room in the palace.

“Imagine a tea party but more formal,” Anna-Marie said.

“I’m hosting a ‘social.’”

“At my vehement insistence, that is, smitten by Schroden’s handsome looks as I am. You basically have to if you want me to stop throwing a tantrum.”

“You serious?”

“Not me me! The game me! Don’t get it twisted!”

The Anna-Marie of the game was truly a testament to vice and stupidity: the villainess herself, the self-proclaimed rival to the heroine, Christopher’s fiancée, a selfish, indulgent, and generally idiotic woman serving as the crucible for conflict. She’d been paired with the prince at a young age, and it was love at first sight, which made for excellent momentum when the goal was a wedding. But Anna-Marie wasn’t gifted with much but looks, and the scorn of others eventually twisted her into the shape she would take in the narrative of the game.

Needless to say, someone of such poor character was quick to fall for Schroden. And she did, when he appeared, ultimately twisting her own fiancé’s arm into hosting a get-together so she could make eyes at another.

“Anna-Marie.”

“Not me! Game me! Can not stress that enough!”

“I mean, yeah, I get that part, but you still want me to host the thing?”

“I did say that, yes. It will be me, you, Maxwell, and the heroine, and we’ll say we’re doing it so you and the prince can deepen your understanding of one another.”

“But why, though?”

“Look, I don’t know. We don’t even have a prince. It’s Princess Ciestine. But if she’s meant to essentially be Schroden in everything but identity, then this event could be very useful to us.” She explained how Prince Schroden would invite Cecilia on a horseback ride during the social, using that as an avenue to get more information on Christopher.

“Right, you did mention that. So whoever Ciestine invites is the one?”

“Exactly. We’ll get to see who gets treated as the heroine.”

One of the most likely suspects was the would-be mid-boss, Luciana, who was certainly a stand-in at the very least, but Celedia, Leginbarth’s daughter, had complicated matters.

“But if Schroden’s goal is to undermine Theolas by getting to me, what would justify inviting Celedia? She’ll have only just enrolled too.”

“Something we’ll have to consider. Granted, we don’t even know if Ciestine’s goal is the same as Schroden’s. Like I said, this event could be useful. Could be. But we have to try it to know for sure.”

Christopher was inclined to agree. This world had deviated from what it was supposed to be but still chugged along the same tracks the game had laid out for it. And where those tracks led was, inevitably, destruction at the hands of the Dark One. They needed the heroine. They needed the Saint. No matter what.

“Okay,” he said. “So we’ll figure it out at the social. Celedia or Luciana.”

They nodded to each other with solemn resolve.

Returning to the present, the night of September 14th…

The social wound to its conclusion. Only Christopher, Anna-Marie, and Maxwell remained in the salon.

“Seems my presence was wholly unnecessary,” Maxwell drawled.

Christopher replied with an equally dry smile. “You barely spoke to anyone but Lucif.”

“He has worthwhile things to say. He’ll go far. I’m glad to have met him and to have offered him some solace in a room full of women.”

“Luciana’s group certainly tilted the balance,” Anna-Marie agreed.

“If it weren’t for Lucif and me, this little gathering would surely have inspired rumors that you were searching for a fiancée in earnest. I’ll accept your gratitude now.”

“Y-you’ve certainly got it,” Christopher said. “In any case, the princess has chosen Madam Cecilia. Thoughts, Anna-Marie?”

She mused. “If we’re to take her at her word, then her invitation was personally motivated. Revenge, of sorts, after her loss at the Summer Ball.”

“How does one ‘lose’ at a ball anyhow?”

“I’m not exactly sure myself. Their dance was certainly beautiful, but hardly a competition from my perspective. Perhaps it’s a private matter.”

“So then it was an earnest invitation? No ulterior motives?” Christopher crossed his arms and contemplated. Anna-Marie joined him.

“The social in your dreams was a more modest affair, was it not?” Maxwell asked, breaking the silence. “There was already a Saint present, one who’d established a relationship with the two of you. The prince ingratiated himself with her as a means of getting to you. Am I recalling that correctly?”

“Right,” Christopher said.

“But we have no Saint. There is no convenient individual the princess can cajole for information. So I wonder if perhaps she simply targeted the one who intrigued her the most. If extracting information was her goal, Anna-Marie ought to have been the most logical choice.”

“Me?” she asked.

“You have the most to divulge about him, do you not?”

Anna-Marie considered that. “That never occurred to me, but you’re absolutely right.”

“This supposed ‘Dark One’ is indeed a threat, but mind that you don’t lose sight of the real world in favor of portents. Just because you were safe in your dreams does not necessarily mean it will be so in reality.”

“Right you are. Again.” She nodded in understanding.

Maxwell nodded in return. “I also feel I should reiterate my position. It isn’t appropriate for a second-year such as myself to entangle himself too intimately in the business of underclassmen. Would that I could help more, and I do intend to offer as much assistance as I can, but I must entrust the investigation to you. They are your classmates, after all.”

“You weren’t much help to begin with,” Christopher said.

“And whose fault is that?”

“N-not mine! How was I supposed to know Madam Cecilia would be there? I didn’t even know she enrolled!”

“She was a surprise, to be sure,” Anna-Marie said. “Why didn’t we hear anything about her?”

“We couldn’t have. Not a chance. She took her entrance exam just six days ago, way too soon for anything to have reached our ears.”

“Six days? What manner of sorcery…” Shock and disbelief creased Anna-Marie’s mouth into a frown.

“She seemed plenty surprised about it herself. Someone bent over backward to ensure she was accepted in time for the new semester.”

“She was endorsed by Lord Leginbarth, remember?”

“She was?” Maxwell asked.

“She was, according to the instructor, which can only mean she and the count are connected somehow,” Christopher replied.

“Her partner at both balls was Sir Lectias, a knight sworn to House Leginbarth,” Anna-Marie recalled. “Perhaps that’s where the link is.”

“Could she be the Saint?” Maxwell asked.

Anna-Marie’s frown deepened. “If we believe our dreams, the answer is an unequivocal no. And yet…”

“We can’t trust those dreams of ours anymore,” Christopher said. “Too much has changed.”

“Then it’s possible?” Maxwell asked.

“Thankfully, His Highness and I will be there to study her more closely this weekend,” Anna-Marie said. “We’ll hopefully attain a deeper understanding of who Cecilia is.”

“I hope so as well.”

Anticipation weighed heavily on the trio, and yet all they could do was wait for answers. When would they come? Nobody knew.

Meanwhile, on the highest floor of the women’s Upper Hall dormitory, Ciestine was sprawled on her bed, having failed to change out of her uniform.

“That’s unbecoming, Your Highness.”

Ciestine’s face remained buried in the blankets and she pretended to not hear her lady-in-waiting. Good lord, what have I done?! Regret plagued her. No, not regret, but conflicting feelings nonetheless. Why did I ask her? Why Madam Cecilia? Why not Anna-Marie? She was the logical choice!

Christopher’s little gathering had been sudden indeed but offered exactly what she needed. If she was to spearhead the downfall of Theolas in place of her brother, she required intel above all else. And the crown prince was a prime source of that intel. She’d planned to woo Anna-Marie so as to get closer to him.

Yet I’ve found myself inviting Madam Cecilia. Why? Why, damn it?

Even after the plan changed and the social grew, she didn’t pivot, cozying up to Celedia and the marquess’s daughter. She was supposed to extend the invitation to the latter, to Anna-Marie, so that she could work her wiles and weasel into the girl’s heart.

But when I saw her speaking so candidly with Christopher… Well, Anna-Marie will join us regardless. This is salvageable. I haven’t ruined anything quite yet.

She rose, satisfied with her flimsy excuses, and relayed the situation to Kalena.

Meanwhile yet again, on the second floor of the women’s Upper Hall dormitory, Celedia was enjoying a most pleasant bath.

Excellent. Just excellent! At last, things will proceed according to Leah’s memories. Fragmented as they are, she remembers this particular horse ride quite fondly. Schroden will say, “How do you like your first ride?” And then I’ll say, “It’s curious how much the world can change from a different vantage point. I could gaze from here forever.” And just like that, Schroden will be mine. Assuming Ciestine shares his sensibilities, I suppose.

But that was no matter. No matter at all. She was closer than ever to bringing Leah’s wish to fruition, and nothing would tear her down from this high…except maybe learning that a certain ditzy maid and the prince himself had already had their exchange.

Chapter 16:
A Sleepy Maid and a Curious Micah

MELODY RETURNED TO HER COMPLETELY dark room in the Common Hall post-social and promptly collapsed onto her bed. It was just past six in the afternoon. The dining hall would have been serving dinner, but finger foods had ruined her appetite.

“Lord, I’m exhausted,” she sighed.

Her first day at the academy had consisted of socializing with a prince and princess, and an entire meet-and-greet. All worthwhile experiences, but tiring ones nonetheless.

Melody stared at the ceiling for several seconds before lurching up again. “There’s no time for spacing out! My lady needs me!” She sprang to her feet, chanting, “Teattrice—release! Now, Ovunque Porta!” In a matter of moments, Cecilia became Melody, complete with her maid uniform, and a door appeared in the middle of her dark room. “It’s maid time! To my lady’s room!”

The door knew where to go without any declaration of destination, sort of like an “Everywhere Door” from a certain nondescript children’s cartoon.

Melody leapt through the door. “My apologies, my lady! I’ll start on dinner right away!”

“Melody?”

She froze. She’d popped out into the dining room to find Luciana and Micah already present. Melody had hurried, presuming her lady would be hungry, but here she was, already holding a bowl of soup.

“Miss Melody, you really have to stop with those doors!” Micah said. “They’re bad for my heart!”

“Oh, um, I’m sorry.” She couldn’t deny she might have gotten a little ahead of herself. “My lady, I see you’re already eating.”

“Micah had it ready and waiting when I returned. I ate a bit at the social, but I was thinking I could use something a little more filling!”

“Prince Christopher’s people sent word, so I settled for something light. Soup felt right,” Micah explained.

“I-I see,” Melody stammered. “You’ve, um, truly come far, Micah.”

“Thank Miss Serena.” The girl looked up and away. “Thank her and her crash course.” Far, far away.

Serena! Melody shuddered inwardly. Just what did you do to her?!

The taste of one’s own medicine was always bitter.

Melody slouched. Once again, Micah had beaten her to the punch, but there were other things she could do. She raised her head. “I’ll draw a—”

“The bath is ready,” muttered Rook.

“Nothing. I’ll draw absolutely nothing.”

Though perhaps not as efficiently as Melody, Rook’s magic made preparing warm baths trivial. Thus vanished another of the maid’s meager hopes. She just couldn’t catch a break, it seemed. Serena had truly turned Micah and the valet into a well-oiled machine. A self-sustaining machine. A very specialized machine, granted, as they’d been trained for dorm work specifically, but together they could do everything Melody could. Or most things, at least.

Serena was the perfect automaton indeed. Being a loose copy of Melody herself, she was not only a formidable maid but an excellent teacher as well.

“M-Miss Melody, we haven’t prepared a change of clothes yet, if you’d like to take charge of that,” Micah said.

“Can do!” The smile that lit Melody’s face was like the glow of heaven upon a wasteland, a ray of hope in a bleak, devastated world. “She’ll need someone to see to her while she bathes, and someone to dry her hair when she finishes. And—”

“We’ll, er, be busy cleaning dishes. If you would.”

“I would! Come, my lady! Your bath awaits!”

“Melody,” Luciana said, “I’m still eating.”

“Of course. My apologies. I’ll just make sure everything is ready.” Melody left the dining room a little red in the face.

Luciana cocked her head as she watched her go. “Is it just me or is she being weird? Her first day must have worn her out.”

“Something tells me there’s a little more to it than that.”

Like how she’s a workaholic going through withdrawals, Micah thought. That’s a maid maniac for you. As far as she was concerned, Melody didn’t just like maids, she lived maids. Breathed maids. This girl was codependent with maids. If this is how she gets on the first day, I’m terrified of what the future holds.

Some time later, after Luciana’s bath, Melody was brushing her lady’s hair as it dried.

“All done,” she said.

“Thanks as always,” replied Luciana.

“Next shall we—”

“You shall go to your room and rest.”

“I’m sorry?”

Luciana pivoted in her chair to look back at her. “You’ve had a busy day. You’re tired. I can tell. Things are only going to get busier when classes start tomorrow.”

“But, my lady, I—”

“You’ve been weird, Melody. You need to rest. So rest.”

Melody wanted to argue, tried to, but she could not when her lady looked at her like that. “As you wish. If you’ll excuse me.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow. We can walk to class together.”

“Of course. Tomorrow morning, then.”

“Tomorrow morning!” Luciana smiled with genuine excitement.

Melody returned the expression, hoping hers did not look too forced. “I’ll take my leave, my lady.”

“Sweet dreams, Melody.”

Melody returned to the Common Hall via Ovunque Porta. Once alone, she chanted, “Illusion theater—Teattrice,” just on the off chance that someone came to visit. In all places except Luciana’s room, she had to be Cecilia.

The clock read just past nine. She had to bathe and ready herself for bed, but she couldn’t bring herself to do any of it. Her body sagged with weariness.

“I suppose my lady was right. I am tired.”

A sigh escaped her. Classes started tomorrow. She couldn’t neglect appearances now of all times. So although it grated on her, she forced herself through a bath, even if only for a perfunctory soak.

“Well,” she breathed when she returned, “that was refreshing at least.” She did feel a little better.

She changed quickly and got into bed, shutting her eyes. Tomorrow will be the real test. I would be the kingdom’s worst bodyguard if I fell asleep on the job. I need to make sure I’m rested.

And off she drifted. And drifted. And drifted…

This isn’t working.

She did not stop drifting until well into the night.

It was the next morning. Or near to it, rather. The sun had yet to surface.

Melody woke, as she always did at this early hour, and yawned. She stretched as she rose and padded to the window. She opened the curtains, but the room did not lighten. September nights were indeed long.

“I might’ve slept a little late,” she mused. She had been banned from performing her morning maid duties, after all, but circadian rhythms were hard to break, and she wasn’t of a mind to slip back into bed after she’d just crawled out of it. She twirled, surveyed her room, and put her hands on her hips. “Well, cleanliness is next to godliness, after all.”

Not that there was anything to clean in a brand-new room, but Melody was desperate for any maidly crumb she could scrounge up. She got to tidying, but even taking it slow so as not to wake her neighbor, she still completed her chores in short order. Next, she occupied herself with reading textbooks. She didn’t have an appetite for breakfast for some reason.

When she exited her room, she bumped into her boldly yawning neighbor, who was on her way back from the dining hall.

“Oh,” the girl said. “Morning.”

“Good morning, Carol.” Always sleepy, Melody noted.

“Little early to head out, isn’t it?”

“I suppose so. I promised Lady Luciana I would walk to school with her.”

“And naturally that means you have to drag yourself all the way over to her, huh? Nobility.”

“I’m going because I want to, actually.”

“Yeah? Whatever you say. Have fun.”

“Thank you. See you in class.”

Carol disappeared into her room with a wave. Melody smiled, her early morning nerves easing somewhat.

It wasn’t long before she reached her destination.

“Good morning, Lady Luciana.”

“Good morning, Melodilia.”

Her lady was already up, dressed, and waiting for her.

“You don’t have to be in disguise in here, do you?” Micah asked. “Good morning, Miss Melody.”

“Micah, it’s Cecilia,” Melody said.

“That girl will never get it right,” Luciana lamented. “One of these days she’ll slip up in public, and it’ll be a whole disaster.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll be careful,” the girl groused. “Wait, Miss Melody, why are your eyes red?”

“Are they?”

“She’s right,” Luciana said. “They do look a little pink. Everything okay?” She peered at the maid, concern replacing her desire to reprimand Micah for continuing to use the wrong name.

“I suppose I didn’t sleep particularly well.”

“Is that all?” Micah said. “Are you the type who needs a specific pillow to fall asleep? Surprising.”

“A lot’s happened in the past day, Melody. You must’ve been more on edge than you realized,” Luciana said. “You don’t have to come here in the evenings if it’s too much. I mean it.”

“Don’t even joke about that!” Melody cried. “I’ll be here tonight! I promise!”

“Dinner’s all you then,” said Micah.

“Oh, thank you!”

“Why does it sting worse when your coworker’s actually glad about you foisting work on them?”

Some time later, Micah and Rook saw them off safely.

“I sure am a maid,” Micah muttered when her mistress and mentor were gone.

“Is this a revelation?”

Micah looked up at the expressionless, yet somehow dumbfounded, Rook. “Just wondering what I’m doing here.”

“Are you unfulfilled?”

“No, that’s not quite what I’m getting at.”

Micah had been wondering something almost since the moment back in the slums when she’d regained her memories. It had to do with her name. She’d called herself Micah because, well, her name had been Maika before. But that was all she knew. Everything about the body she inhabited was a blank, including her birth name.

Another curiosity. Micah had lived a long life, but all she could recall about her past life was her childhood. Those memories did not include a pink-haired girl with pigtails who appeared in The Silver Saint and the Five Oaths, to say nothing of Bjork rescuing such a girl. It was thanks to him that Micah had found a home at the orphanage and then employment with the Rudlebergs, where she met Serena and the heroine and so many other people. And yet…

I’m totally meaningless in the grand scheme of the story, she thought. All she’d done was offer a few passing remarks about the absurdity of Melody’s abilities. What had she actually contributed? She’d known the monster attack would happen, and she hadn’t lifted a finger. Granted, I knew she would be okay, but even if she was in danger, what could I have done to help? Just makes me wonder.

Why was she even here?

This wasn’t an existential crisis, per se, but rather genuine curiosity. Why had she been reborn in this world if not to affect it? If God was real, why choose her of all people? Why place her in this role? Not the heroine. Not the villainess. Not even a noble. She was just a poor orphan. She couldn’t hope to enroll at Royal Academy, and she had no special powers to speak of.

She was just Micah. Plain, old Micah.

There must be something I can do, right? She flinched as the Uovo del Mago hanging at her chest trembled. And when is this thing supposed to hatch? Feels like a protracted jump scare waiting to happen.

It was supposed to birth some sort of companion to aid Micah in spell casting, but it also contained the essence of a monstrous wolf distressingly similar in nature to the Dark One. That latter part somewhat dampened Micah’s enthusiasm about getting to use magic.

This thing’s not going to try and eat us all as soon as it’s out, right? I’m really trusting you here, Miss Melody. She heaved a sigh.

“Work needs doing,” Rook said.

“Right. Off we go.”

Micah eyed him as he returned to his room. Rook. She had given him that name to hide his true identity—Bjork Quichel, the fourth love interest of The Silver Saint and the Five Oaths, an identity that not even he knew. The valet-in-training suffered from amnesia, but at the Rudleberg demesne, he had remembered how to use magic. This all but confirmed that one day he would realize the truth.

But what is he going to do once he does?

Another question. Another answer she could only wait for.

Chapter 17:
“New Game Plus” Girl

A GIGGLE BUBBLED UP BESIDE MELODY AS she walked through campus.

“Something on your mind, Lady Luciana?” she asked.

It was only with immense effort that the lady kept from skipping. She was in an excellent mood indeed this morning. “Just thinking how thrilled I am that I get to walk to school with you from now on, Melilia!”

“Oh, you and your hyperboles,” Melody laughed. “Your safety is still my number-one priority, but I am always glad to be with my mis…you. With you, Lady Luciana.”

“We’ve got to have lunch together, okay? We can, right? Not as a maid and her mistress, but just classmates!”

“Certainly.”

“Yes!”

Normally, Melody would be too busy serving her lady to dine with her, as a maid ought to be. This was nonnegotiable for any self-respecting servant, but Cecilia wasn’t a maid or servant and thus enjoyed the privilege of dining with Luciana. This put Luciana over the moon.

As they approached the classroom, the clamor coming from it swelled like a cresting wave.

“What’s all this about?” Luciana said.

“Something must have happened.”

As they entered, Luciana greeted her friend, who’d arrived moments earlier. “Good morning, Luna.”

“Morning.”

“Good morning to you,” Melody said.

“To you as well, Cecilia,” Luna replied.

When Melody spoke, several eyes, mostly those closest to the front of the classroom, instantly locked on to the commoner girl.

Melody blinked under the sudden rush of attention. She met a few of the gazes directed her way, but her classmates only held her eyes for a moment before awkwardly turning away. The buzz slowly quieted to a hum.

“Um, was it something I said?” Melody asked.

“Maybe it’s a bad morning,” Luciana theorized.

Luna sat at her desk and pointed. “For some people. The test results are out.”

“Already?” Melody said. They’d taken the test less than twenty-four hours ago. First her admission exam, now this. Her admiration for the faculty rose another tick.

“Let’s take a look,” Luciana suggested.

“Yes, let’s.”

They approached the blackboard, where Christopher and Anna-Marie were analyzing the test results. Luciana and Melody offered the royals greetings.

“Lady Luciana,” Christopher replied. “Madam Cecilia.”

“Good morning, both of you,” said Anna-Marie.

The royal couple hadn’t been hard to find amid the sea of students. They seemed in good spirits this morning.

“Here to see how you fared?” the prince asked.

“And hope it isn’t any worse than last time,” Luciana said.

Christopher grinned. “I’m afraid it’s too late for me.”

“Your ranking dropped? Yours, Your Highness? Was the top spot usurped by Princess Ciestine?”

“See for yourself.” He made way for them.

Melody and Luciana peered at the rankings. In first place, Cecilia McMarden. One hundred points. Second, Christopher von Theolas at ninety-six points, tied with Ciestine van Rordpier. Fourth, Anna-Marie Victillium at ninety-three. Fifth, Luciana Rudleberg. Ninety-one. In sixth, at ninety points, was Olivia Rincot’dor.

“Wow,” was all Luciana could muster. Awe for the girl who’d crushed this competition superseded any disappointment Luciana might have felt toward herself.

“Is that me in first?” Melody said.

“A perfect score.” Awe was quickly warping into disbelief.

I knew she was smart, but smarter than Prince Christopher? Luciana thought. Are you serious?! Melody had tutored Luciana in the past. She was well aware of her vast intellect, but it was only now, faced with numerical objectivity, that she truly began to fathom just how vast that intellect was.

“Color me impressed, madam, but I suppose I ought to have expected no less from a special case like you,” Christopher said.

“Y-you flatter me, Your Highness. This was a fluke, though, I’m certain of it.”

“Humility is overrated, dear,” said Anna-Marie. “Nobody stumbles their way into a perfect score. Congratulations.”

A shy grin spread across Melody’s flushed cheeks, made worse by Luciana’s renewed cascade of praise.

Meanwhile, beneath her ladylike composure, the gears in Anna-Marie’s head groaned. What is this, girl, your second go-around?! Are we on New Game Plus or something?!

In the game, the protagonist’s test results reflected two things: affection levels with the love interests and five stats consisting of Knowledge, Fitness, Artistry, Magic, and Propriety. Each stat was paired with a particular core subject. Contemporary literature and mathematics with Knowledge; geography and history, confusingly, with Fitness; foreign languages, also confusingly, with Artistry; matters of etiquette with Propriety; and arcane studies with Magic.

Every day, by prioritizing certain subjects or studying during downtime, the player could improve these stats. This, in turn, would alter the ease with which the player could secure certain routes. The higher the stat, the better the result on a corresponding exam, the more affection one gained with certain love interests. Christopher’s associated stat was Knowledge, Maxwell’s was Artistry, Lect’s was Fitness, Bjork’s was Magic, and Schroden’s was Propriety. High stats meant more date events with the respective character. Thus, how the player chose to study, grow, and prioritize in terms of academics was a core part of game progression—“prioritize” being the operative word.

Assuming Cecilia is the heroine, a perfect score can only mean she’s already maxed out every single stat. She’s got the whole smorgasbord of men to choose from! No, but seriously, who is this girl?! That crap’s not easy!

It was technically possible to hit the cap on every stat in the game, but that typically happened in the final of the game’s three years. Needless to say, it was impossible to achieve in the second semester of the first year. Doing so essentially put the heroine in a pseudo-harem state, unlocking every single date event with every single character.

Not that they even gave us a harem route!

Given that the plot of The Silver Saint and the Five Oaths centered around the heroine finding true love, and even swearing an oath on it, thus awakening to her powers as the Saint, polyamory simply wasn’t an option. The bond demanded by the mechanics of the game necessitated a staunchly monogamous relationship.

It’s almost as if she’s done multiple playthroughs. It’s the only way her stats could be so high. But the game didn’t offer that feature. And then there’s… Anna-Marie shot a glance at the silver-haired girl hovering a ways away.

Celedia Leginbarth sullenly studied her rank on the board. Twenty-ninth. Forty-four points.

Barely passing, Anna-Marie contemplated. That tells me her stats are basically the bare minimum, but the heroine’s supposed to rank in the top three. Celedia’s grade left a lot to be desired. No wonder she was so downcast. Realistically, though, that’s about what I’d expect from a commoner raised by a single mother who only recently rose to nobility. It’s honestly a miracle she didn’t place last.

Damn it all! Celedia cursed inwardly. Leah’s memories tell me that this was my chance to soften up the men, but there was no time to prepare! No time, damn it! How am I to understand these silly human principles on my first blasted day?! I mean, er, how vexing. Oh, I am aghast and crestfallen. Yes, quite.

A pang of immense sympathy struck Anna-Marie at the (excellently crafted) look of anguish on the girl’s face. I feel you. I feel you so hard, Celedia. Back when I was a normal high school student, I wasn’t half as smart, and every test was a death knell. Keep your chin high! If I could pull it off, so can you!

Compared to Christopher and Melody’s natural gifts, Anna-Marie was painfully ordinary. It was only the threat of complete annihilation that pushed her to neglect her role as the pitiful villainess and actually apply herself. The respect and admiration she enjoyed now had been hard-earned. It hadn’t been easy, but she’d done it, so by all rights, Celedia the maybe-heroine could do it too.

Celedia, however, was not telepathic and was thus ignorant to Anna-Marie’s encouragement. Cecilia, the girl with the heroine’s name. She’s bested me handily. Is she after the same role as me? I must do something about her.

“Full marks? How is that possible?” someone whispered behind Celedia.

It was the first of many notes of doubt.

“How is it that a commoner who’s only just enrolled can do what not even His Highness can?”

“It’s certainly unbelievable. We could never, not unless we cheated.”

The three students chuckled at the preposterous notion, but it sparked an idea in Celedia. That’s right, she thought. How awful that you would stoop to such measures, Cecilia.

Dark, invisible mana oozed from the girl, seeping through the classroom.

Melody froze. For a split second, her vision went completely black. A blink later and all was normal, but she wasn’t seeing things, of that, she was sure. Just like at the ball, she recalled.

“Cecilia,” Luciana said. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, um, something happened to my—”

“A perfect score? How is that possible?” Someone’s voice cut through the chatter in the room. The two boys and one girl behind Celedia wore expressions of incredulity.

“It isn’t possible. That’s the thing. Nobody just does that.”

“Do you think she cheated?” the girl asked.

“How else could she have done it?”

“Huh?” Melody recoiled. The group spoke as if in private, but were blatantly loud enough for others to overhear. They shot poorly concealed looks at the target of their ire. And it wasn’t just them. Nearly the entire classroom turned their anger on Melody now. Luna, Anna-Marie, and those closest to her seemed the sole exceptions, blankly befuddled by the sudden change in tone among their peers.

Celedia snickered to herself. Perfect. It’s a simple matter to amplify the jealousy already budding in their hearts. Little risk to my body too. I’ve dulled the do-gooders’ senses so they can’t go to her defense. Now, show me! Reveal the shadows lurking in your hearts to Tindalos, the Dark One!

Outwardly, the girl acted surprised. If she could have, though, she would have raised her arms and cackled maniacally.

A separate group added their voices to the menacing cacophony.

“The girl in first cheated?”

“How would she have done that, though? Wouldn’t she have had to know the questions ahead of time?”

“Who’s to say she didn’t cheat on the enrollment exams too? She’s endorsed by Lord Leginbarth, after all. What if they gave her special treatment? She could’ve had advance knowledge of yesterday’s test.”

Melody couldn’t find the words to defend herself. Where was this coming from? How could they leap to such ludicrous conclusions?

Luciana, meanwhile, couldn’t grit her teeth any harder without breaking one. Melody? Cheating?! Who do these people think they are?!

“Excuse you—”

“Cease this childishness at once!” A harsh, stern voice cut through Luciana’s protest like a knife.

The strange stillness in the room shattered. The instigators and the befuddled alike whipped toward that voice as if suddenly woken from a deep sleep, only to behold an irate Olivia Rincot’dor standing over them like a mountain, the book she’d been quietly reading lying flat on her desk.

What is the meaning of this?! Celedia was flabbergasted. How could one girl’s voice dispel the effects of her magic?

“As soon as you’re bested, you accuse. Disgraceful,” the duke’s daughter spat. “On what grounds do you found these claims? Are the students of the vaunted Royal Academy truly so base? Disgraceful. Truly disgraceful. I am ashamed to call you my peers!”

Apologies and admissions of guilt resounded at once, so infectious that Melody, Luciana, and even Celedia joined in.

“To whom should you be directing such words?” Olivia snapped, her daggerlike eyes focused on the instigators.

One such instigator turned to Melody at once. “We deeply apologize, McMarden. We had no business doubting you without evidence.”

The remaining two instigators similarly apologized.

“Um, thank you,” Melody said.

The next group followed, each accuser voicing their deepest regrets. Eventually, things returned to normal.

“You have my apologies as well,” Christopher said. “It was my duty to reprimand them, and I failed.”

“And mine,” Anna-Marie added. “Twice now, counting the ball, I didn’t speak up for you when I ought to have.”

“Please, it’s not either of your faults,” Melody said. Reparations from a prince and a marquess’s daughter were far too much for her to accept.

“What in the world got into them? I didn’t think they were the type to be so rude.” Luciana, for her part, was still fuming.

Melody was more dumbstruck than anything else. What had gotten into them?

Wait a minute, Anna-Marie thought. Could this be the Dark One’s doing? I vaguely remember a mini event where something like this happens.

Certain mini events in the game had little to do with the love interests or the main story. Typically, they took the form of students under the Dark One’s influence antagonizing the heroine. Unlike cases like Bjork or Luciana, whom the Dark One puppeted, these incidents involved individuals afflicted with dark mana, which amplified their negative emotions and imparted a distaste for the Saint.

What just happened fits the bill, but this particular event doesn’t happen on a fixed date, if it happens at all. The students affected are all nameless background characters. It’s impossible to say for sure. Argh, and I just gawked the whole time!

She and Christopher had not been immune to Celedia’s mana. No one had, save for Melody, being the Saint, and Luciana, protected by Melody’s magic. And, curiously, a third person: Olivia Rincot’dor.

That woman. She meddled last time too, Celedia thought. Did my manipulation not affect her? She examined the girl’s mana. Nothing out of the ordinary. Slightly more than average but not particularly noteworthy. So she isn’t the Saint. Then why? I can’t make use of these powers with an anomaly like her around. Curses!

Celedia eyed Olivia closely, but that was all she could do at present.

“Morning everyone,” a latecomer said with a yawn. “What’s going on?” Carol regarded the classroom with groggy confusion. Perhaps thanks to her lackadaisical attitude, her arrival hit like a sedative, easing the lingering tension in the room.

Melody realized she hadn’t done much but stand here since the incident began. She hadn’t even thanked Lady Olivia!

But Instructor Regus entered then, and homeroom began. Thanking would have to come later.

The instructor passed the marked-up tests around. Melody received hers while mentally devising plans to catch Olivia before the day was out. Beside her, Carol received her test with a grimace. Melody glanced at the board and spied the words “27th: Carol Misweed, 51.”

“Review and revise those questions you missed,” Regus said. “I want your corrected exams by tomorrow.”

A groan rose from the class, a futile protest.

Melody sighed. “I never got to thank her.”

“It happens. There’s always tomorrow.” Luciana walked at her side, the sun dipping low to bathe them in a sedate sunset as they went. Naturally, as her guard, Melody was accompanying Luciana back to her dorm.

At every turn, something had blocked Melody from her objective. Between classes, the lady was always mid-conversation. At lunch, she found Olivia had already left. This series of bad luck continued until school was over, and her chances evaporated.

It’s almost uncanny, she thought.

With heavy steps, she delivered her lady home, then returned to the Common Hall. Her day was not over just yet.

“It’s maid time! To my lady’s room!” Indeed, it was maid time. She set aside her grief at her missed opportunities, instead focusing on all the fun to come. “A delicious dinner is on the way! Just you wait!”

Fulfilling her promise to Micah this morning, Melody prepared her lady’s meal with gusto. The time flew, as it was wont to do, and soon Luciana had finished her bath and readied for bed, which meant it was Melody’s turn to retire.

She stood at the magical door leading to her room. “Regrettably, I must take my leave now, my lady.”

“Good night, Melody.”

The maid put her lady behind her and passed through the door. Complete darkness greeted her on the other side of the portal. She let herself adjust to it for a few seconds, then sighed.

“If only I were allowed this luxury in the mornings too.”

A knock came. “Cecilia, are you there?”

Melody perked up. “Carol?! O-one second!” More quietly, she whispered, “Teattrice.” She quickly donned her student persona and trotted to the door. That had been close. “So sorry about that.”

“No, I know it’s late. I just wanted your help with something.”

“My help? With what?” Melody looked down at the papers in Carol’s hand and understood. “Revising your test?”

Carol gripped the bundle anxiously. Instructor Regus was a rigorous teacher, assigning such demanding homework on such short notice. “There are a few problems I just can’t figure out, and, well, you got full marks. Would you mind?”

“Not at all. Please, come in.”

Melody invited her in and they set to work. Carol had figured out most of the answers already, but several particularly tricky questions remained. The solutions weren’t immediately obvious based on the material they’d studied in class. Melody walked Carol through each one. Math, it seemed, was her nemesis.

“Hopefully that illuminates some things,” Melody said.

“Oh, I get it.”

It had taken an hour, but it was an efficient hour. Melody had experience from tutoring her lady. Carol absorbed her explanations with relative ease.

“Phew. Thank you again for the help. You’re a lifesaver, Cecilia.”

“I’m glad I could be of assistance.” Melody beamed. She lived for this, after all.

Carol smiled in a self-mocking way. “I really don’t know why I’m like this. I’ll never work in the palace at this rate.”

“Is that your goal?”

“Not exactly. It’s not important. Forget it. Thanks again. I’ll pay you back sometime soon.”

“Oh, you don’t need to do that. Just know you can always ask again if you need to.”

“I’ll try to resist the temptation to move in. Anyway, good night.”

“Good night.”

It was after nine o’clock by the time Carol departed. Time for bed. Melody bathed and changed into her sleepwear.

“I didn’t sleep much last night, so I’ll settle down a little early. Oh, I completely forgot about dinner.” After seeing to Luciana, she’d come home, helped Carol with her homework, and had little time to do much else. The dining hall wouldn’t be open at this late hour. If she wanted to eat, she’d have to cook for herself. “Not particularly in the mood. Must be fatigue. I had a bite while taste-testing my lady’s meal at least. Bedtime it is, then.”

Some days were simply like that. Exhaustion overcame hunger, and Melody slipped under her blankets. She had another busy day of guarding her lady tomorrow, so she drifted off. And drifted. And drifted…

Here we go again.

She was in for yet another restless night.

Sometime earlier, while Melody and Luciana were returning to the dorms, Olivia Rincot’dor arrived at her own room.

“Welcome home, my lady.”

“Thank you. I intend to study once I’m situated. Prepare some tea, would you?”

“At once. Will you be changing first?”

“Later. I’ll have my tea in the living room. Call for me once it’s ready. I’ll be resting in the meanwhile.”

“As you wish, my lady.”

Olivia strode into her bedroom. Free from the watchful eyes of her lady-in-waiting, she threw herself onto the bed.

What a positively vexing day. My mind won’t let go of what happened this morning. Accusations. Baseless accusations. All because one girl had scored well on a test. Had she not stepped in, things could have boiled over. She’d been glad to intervene, really. She detested that her peers had not only denounced the achievements of another so quickly but believed unfounded gossip on top of that. Still, it put a severe damper on Olivia’s mood. I have just the thing for this, thankfully.

Olivia stood and reached under her bed, retrieving a long, slender case. Glistening embellishments adorning the graceful black case promised valuable treasure within. She placed it on the bed and opened it. Inside lay the broken remains of half a silver sword.

Olivia approached the window with the broken sword, then threw open the curtains with one hand, twilight pouring into the room. The sword shimmered resplendently in the faint light as she held it up.

“How beautiful,” she breathed.

Bathing in the evening sun, it truly was. Olivia shut her eyes, remembering the morning’s incident. She could almost feel the sword’s intrinsic glow.

“You are broken. Imperfect. Unfit for the purpose for which you were made. And yet you are beautiful. How I wish you were me.”

Invisible to her, an argent incandescence radiated from the cross section of the shattered blade. Brilliant particles of platinum wafted up into Olivia’s chest and through her very being, where they vanished.

Olivia opened her eyes, a warm smile on her face. “How is it that you bring me so much peace? Curious. My lingering misgivings have all but disappeared. Why is that, I wonder?” She waited for an answer that would not come. “Perhaps even more curious is why I find myself speaking to you so. ‘You,’ I say. To a sword.”

As she turned back to replace it in its case she heard a snap. A fragment of the blade clattered to the floor.

“What?! H-how?”

How indeed. Olivia had taken such care of the relic. She didn’t recall ever bumping it against anything or treating it recklessly, but with no other recourse, she placed it in its case and hid it under her bed again.

In her hand, she held the fragment that had fallen. “What do I do with this? Can it be repaired?”

“My lady, your tea is ready.”

“Ah! C-coming!” With a jolt, Olivia slid the piece into her uniform pocket and exited her bedroom, doing her best to act natural.

In her pocket that shard would stay, a sort of charm. Unbeknownst to Melody. Unbeknownst to Anna-Marie. Unbeknownst to all who might have taken an interest in such an item.

Chapter 18:
Melody and the Art of Art

BY SEPTEMBER 17TH, MELODY HAD BEEN attending Royal Academy for four days. That day, on Melody’s suggestion, she and Luciana were in the art room to observe the Fine Arts elective. Luciana had made great strides in ladyship since coming to the capital from her humble, rural home to the north, all thanks to a certain maid’s guidance, but a true lady had to have an eye for the finer things, things that, unfortunately, were rather foreign to House Rudleberg.

Luciana had never touched an instrument. She couldn’t sing. She’d never painted. In game terms, her Artistry stat was nonexistent, but Melody sought to rectify that. Arguably, by way of shock therapy.

“Are you sure about this? I’ve never even held a brush.”

“Worry not, Lady Luciana. I may not have a creative bone in my body, but I’ve mastered the relevant techniques. I’m confident I can teach you the ways.”

“How can you know ‘the ways’ and not be creative?”

“It’s all in the wrist.”

“So you can make art, but…aren’t creative?” Luciana’s head fell to one side.

Melody grinned and shrugged. “Putting things to paper isn’t necessarily synonymous with artistic ability.”

“Huh. I’ll take your word for it. I’m counting on you when we get there.”

“Of course. It won’t be long now… Oh?” In front of the door to the art room, Melody spotted someone she recognized. “Carol?”

“Oh. Cecilia. And Lady Luciana.” None other than Carol Misweed loitered before the art room.

“Are you here for Fine Arts too?”

“What a coincidence,” Luciana said, simply happy at the prospect of another friend. “We were just about to sit in on the class ourselves.”

But Carol looked away coldly. “I was just passing by.” And then she left.

“Odd,” said Melody. “Is she okay?”

“She probably had the wrong room,” Luciana said. “Anyway, let’s head over.”

Melody wasn’t convinced but followed along anyway as Luciana knocked on the door.

“Thank you for having us today, Instructor.”

“It was my pleasure. It was your first time with us, no? Did you two enjoy yourselves?”

“Yes, well, other than the picture I ended up making. I’m a little ashamed of that part.”

“Are you? I think it came out excellent.”

“Please, Instructor, you’re flattering me.”

Only Luciana, Melody, and the instructor remained in the empty art room. The other students had already left for their next class, but the lady and her maid had no other plans for the day, so they stayed behind to help straighten up.

“I like it quite a lot too, Lady Luciana.”

“Not you too, Cecilia! You’re embarrassing me!”

Luciana’s blush was an addictive thing. This, Melody knew, and the instructor learned.

Today’s lesson had been on watercolors, a very freeform medium. Unlike oil-based paints, watercolors were easy and less time-consuming to use, so students painted whatever struck their fancy. Landscapes, still lifes, anything at all. Melody and Luciana had settled on capturing the campus itself, and for her first time painting, Luciana had done an admirable job. Objectively, of course, it was lacking, but still admirable in the attempt.

“Perspective and lighting can be tricky things, but you captured a certain lightheartedness that comes through quite well,” the instructor said.

Luciana wasn’t sure what any of that was supposed to mean. Something good, apparently.

“Come to think of it, I haven’t seen your painting yet,” she said to Cecilia.

“Oh, um, it’s right here.” Melody shyly revealed her work.

Luciana had only two words: “Holy cow.”

It was like a slice of the campus itself had been pressed and preserved on a sheet of paper. Perfect photorealism. Luciana gawked at the skill on display, and the instructor seemed lost in thought.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised,” Luciana said. “I didn’t pick your brain much, since we were told to draw whatever we wanted, but you weren’t kidding when you said you were good enough to teach. What do you think, Instructor?”

“Yes, er, ‘good’ is right. She’s certainly talented, but…”

“But?”

The teacher peered at Melody’s painting, her eyes narrowing in thought. Melody didn’t seem at all surprised by this reaction.

“I’m afraid this is all I’ve ever been able to produce, Instructor,” Melody said.

“I see,” the instructor said. “Then you’ve already identified where you have room for improvement.”

“I have. To little avail, I’m sorry to say. Nothing I do ever seems to change the result.”

“A shame. You’ve certainly got technical expertise.”

“I-I’m sorry, but I’m confused,” Luciana cut in. “What’s not good about Cecilia’s painting?”

“It isn’t ‘not good.’ It’s very good. Just…”

“Art isn’t about simply copying what you see,” Melody said. “Not entirely.”

“Then what else is it about?” Luciana asked.

She never got a straight answer to that. Because an answer didn’t exist, and neither Melody nor the instructor quite knew how to convey this. Luciana simply had to make peace with her incomplete understanding.

“By the way, there was a girl outside your classroom before the lesson began,” Melody said, changing the subject. “Carol. Is she not in your class?”

“Carol,” the instructor repeated. “Ah, Misweed? Here again, was she?”

“Again? Does she typically attend your class?”

The instructor shook her head sadly. “She’s never gotten further than the door. I see her there on occasion. I’ve invited her to join, but she always refuses.”

“So she didn’t have the wrong room,” Luciana said. “Then what was she doing out there? Why won’t she come inside?”

Neither Melody nor the instructor had an answer.

“She certainly seems interested, but perhaps something holds her back,” the instructor said. “Whatever it is, it’s impeded her for some time.”

When we first met, actually, she had paint in her hair, Melody recalled. She hadn’t given it much thought, but clearly she’d been painting in her room. The girl was more than merely interested, so why didn’t she take the class?

“You’re her classmates, yes? If it isn’t too much trouble, could you give this to her for me?” the instructor asked. She handed Melody an application form. “Maybe all she needs is a little push, a vote of confidence. Would you mind terribly?”

“Not at all. I can speak with her,” Melody said.

Later, upon seeing Luciana home and returning to her own dorm, Melody visited Carol’s room next door.

“Carol, it’s Cecilia. Do you have a minute?” No response. She reached for the doorknob, purely out of curiosity, and found the door unlocked. It creaked open. “Carol? You left your door unlocked. Are you…?”

Though she found the room lit, she received no response. Melody searched for any sign of the room’s owner to no avail. What she did find, sitting out in the open, froze her to the spot.

A canvas sat on an easel bearing a half-finished painting. Melody felt drawn to it, hypnotized by it, gasping as she crept near. It depicted Royal Academy as seen from the front. Passionate figures—students—littered the paths between the buildings.

Before Melody knew it, a word sprang to her lips. “Beautiful.”

“Can I help you?”

“Carol!” Melody whipped around. The girl did not look pleased. “I’m sorry. The door was open. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Sure. It’s fine. You wouldn’t have come if you didn’t need me for something.”

“More like, um, I have something for you. The Fine Arts instructor wanted me to give this to you, along with an invitation.” She handed Carol the application form.

She took it, blinking in surprise, but her aloofness soon returned, and she spun away. “Don’t want it. I’m not enrolling.”

“But look at what you’ve done. You’re so talented.”

Carol grimaced. “I’ve done the bare minimum. Anybody with a brush could do this much.”

“I don’t think that’s true at all.” The issue here was obvious. Carol thought very little of herself. “What you’ve created here is stunning. The students you painted—they’re alive. Your painting is alive. Not at all like mine.”

“Yours? Oh. Right. You sat in on the class. Show me. I want to see.”

“W-well—”

“You stole a peek at mine. Fair’s fair.”

“I-I suppose so.”

Melody returned to her room to retrieve her painting and presented it to Carol, who studied it for a moment before scoffing. “Boring.”

“I know.” Melody had no intention of arguing, nor was she hurt by the scathing criticism. Her art was always dull. Lifeless.

“It’s technically impressive. You’ve perfectly replicated your subject. But it’s only that—a replication. There’s no emotion in it. Nothing of you. Frankly, I’m impressed at the sheer objectivity of it.”

“I’ve always struggled with art. No matter how I study and practice, every piece I create comes out less a work of art and more a…visual transcription.”

“That’s what this feels like. You might see something like this in an architecture textbook. It’s certainly drab and detailed enough.”

For as long as she could remember, even all the way back to her days as Mizunami Ritsuko, art had been the one thing she could not master. As a child, she’d earned awards for her technique, but only her technique. And she suspected much of that had to do with her being so young at the time.

I’m sure if I entered those kinds of competitions at the age I am now, I would lose spectacularly, she thought.

Her talents could impress the layman, someone like Luciana, but true creatives could see through the facade. People like Carol could tear her work to pieces, and Melody thought they’d be right to.

“So believe me when I say your work is beautiful,” she said. “The boys and girls here, they look real, like they really belong on campus. I’m jealous of you, Carol.”

“Hm. Miss Perfect is jealous of me. One sec while I savor this.”

“By all means. And there’s more where that came from if you enroll in that class, you know.”

Carol frowned. Something had to be holding her back if she was still hesitating.

Just when Melody had resolved to give up on the matter, Carol finally said, “Fine. I’ll think about it. On one condition.”

“What? There are conditions?” Melody had been the one to butt in, granted, but how deep into Carol’s business was she going to go?

Carol jabbed a finger at Melody. “I’m going to think about it, and in the meantime, I want you to model for me.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You. Model. For me. For a painting. Do it and maybe I’ll enroll.”

“I-I’m not sure how me modeling for you fits into the narrative.”

“I haven’t had any real opportunities to study anatomy, being cooped up in my room all day. I won’t need you for much. Just come see me after school so I can get a rough sketch done.”

“I, um, suppose that’s a reasonable arrangement.”

“We have a deal. See you tomorrow then. Bye now.”

“W-wait! Carol!”

The girl shoved her into the hallway, throwing the door shut behind her. Melody stood there stupefied for several seconds. Then it hit her.

“This is going to eat into my maid time!”

But it was too late. Melody had sealed her fate, and she could only regret it now. Regret and lament it.

Chapter 19:
The Horseback Date:
Ciestine Versus Cecilia

SEPTEMBER 20TH MARKED THE BEGINNING of the first weekend of the semester. The skies dawned clear and the weather fair, a perfect day for a date.

“Miss Melody, you look so cool!”

It was the day Melody had promised to go on a ride with Ciestine. With a bit of maid magic, namely the Ricucitura spell, she transformed her outfit into attire better suited for horseback. Micah happily drank in Melody’s high ponytail, a new and refreshing look for her, as well as the red blazer that matched her eyes. White, form-fitting pants gripped her slender legs, guiding the eye down to a pair of tall, black boots. The sporty ensemble accentuated her slim frame exquisitely.

“Thank you, Micah…” The final syllable bled into a long yawn.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look tired,” Luciana said. “Were you up late last night?” She gave the maid a worried look.

Melody covered her mouth demurely. “No, just struggling to fall asleep lately.”

It doesn’t help that I still wake up so early, she added silently.

“You might be running yourself ragged. They say fatigue can affect your sleep, after all. Must be from juggling school and maid work. Should we cut down on your evening duties?”

“What?! No! Heavens, no! I’ll take better care of myself, so please, no!”

Luciana chuckled. “Exactly what I wanted to hear. I’ll hold you to that.”

“I bet it’s going to be so fun,” Micah said. “I wish I could go.”

“I’d let you if I could, but someone has to look after the room.”

Micah’s shoulders fell. “Rook gets to go.”

“S-someone has to be on guard duty too, okay?”

Rook was waiting quietly, sword hanging at his waist, ready to leave at a moment’s notice.

“I’m sorry, Micah. We’ll see if we can’t find you a souvenir.” Melody gasped. “Er, but our destination is a ranch. Will there be anything suitable there?”

“Forget it,” Micah said. “I’ll take gossip instead. Keep your eyes on the prince and Lady Anna-Marie. I want all the details on how they get along today.”

“I-I’ll do my best.”

It was a tall order for the queen of obliviousness.

Melody, Luciana, and Rook left for the front gate, where they would meet the others. Rook guided a horse behind them as they walked, the very same horse that pulled the rental carriage Luciana had taken to the academy. Since she went home on the weekends, she essentially had the carriage on constant reservation. The Upper Hall housed the steed in the stable, and Rook took care of it as one of his responsibilities.

Some might say it would have been cheaper to purchase the carriage outright. They would have been right.

“That’s the horse you’ll be riding, right?” Luciana asked him.

“Yes, my lady. I’ll be some ways back, so as not to disturb you.”

“Mm-hmm. And Lord Leginbarth is providing yours?”

“That’s right,” Melody said. “Word reached His Lordship, and I received a letter conveying as much to me some days ago. We can expect to meet the horse once we rendezvoused with the others.”

“It really should have been us providing your mount, seeing as you’re our charge. I suppose I ought to pen a letter of thanks later, shouldn’t I?”

“I’ll see to it myself. In any case, His Lordship seems to have taken up much of the responsibility for me when it comes to the academy.”

“That makes sense. He did endorse you, after all. But sheesh, so complicated. I wonder if His Lordship considers it his duty for having backed your enrollment.”

“It’s very humbling, to say the least.”

Count Leginbarth was a dutiful man indeed. Perhaps suffocatingly so, Melody thought.

When they arrived, Christopher, Anna-Marie, and Ciestine, already waiting at the gate, stood ready to greet them.

“Good morning, everyone,” Luciana called out, speaking for her party. “Were we late?”

Christopher shook his head and grinned. “Not by a second. We were simply early.”

“I take full responsibility. I couldn’t wait a minute longer,” Ciestine said.

“You can hardly be blamed for feeling a little stir-crazy, Your Highness,” said Anna-Marie.

Ciestine scratched her cheek, fidgeting like an embarrassed child. The red in her face betrayed that she was fully aware of her juvenile giddiness. “At any rate, I see you’ve dressed for the occasion,” she said to Cecilia. “You’re looking sharp.”

“Thank you, Your Highness. You look rather dashing yourself.”

Anna-Marie wore one of her typical everyday dresses. A black blazer finished off Christopher’s horse-riding attire, while Ciestine donned a blue, swallow-tailed affair. Not quite as practical as Christopher’s choice of dress but certainly more elegant. Melody’s outfit leaned toward practicality, though the wearer was more than comely enough to satisfy the precedent set by Ciestine.

“Is this who you’ll be riding?” Melody asked, admiring Ciestine’s horse. “Such a beautiful creature.”

“Well, thank you. Hear that, Sheltante? She thinks you’re beautiful.” The Rordpier princess patted the horse evidently named Sheltante, and it nickered its approval.

Her Highness would look like quite the Prince Charming astride that, Melody thought. Or princess, rather.

The stallion’s coat was bright white. And, indeed, he was a male.

“Where is your steed, Madam Cecilia?” the princess asked.

“Lord Leginbarth is providing it. I presume it will arrive at the same time as Lady Celedia. Ah, speaking of.”

Right on time, Melody spied three people and three horses making their way over. A red-haired man rode one mount while guiding another by the reins. A second man with darker hair tied back in a ponytail rode the third horse, a girl with silver hair mounted in front of him. Celedia Leginbarth. The man with her had to be her guardsman, Sable Pufontis.

“So that must mean that’s…Lect?” Melody realized.

Upon arriving, Sable helped Celedia down, and she promptly curtsied. She wore a dress, but a simple one meant for outdoor activity. “Good morning, all. Princess Ciestine, I’m in your care today.”

“It’s my honor, my lady.”

Meanwhile, Melody approached the red-haired man. “Hello, Lect.”

“Cecilia. Greetings.”

“What are you doing here? Guarding Lady Celedia?”

“No. Guarding you, as a matter of fact.”

“Me? But I’m only a commoner.”

A count’s daughter, actually, Lect quietly corrected, not that it mattered in this particular instance.

“Danger does not discriminate,” he said. “His Lordship’s orders, so I’m sorry, but I’ll have to ask you to swallow your misgivings for the time being.”

Melody blinked. Not only was she getting a horse, but Lord Leginbarth had also sent a personal bodyguard. Perhaps she was House Leginbarth’s charge at this point.

She couldn’t exactly refuse, even if she had a reason to. “Very well. Then I’ll gladly accept your generosity.”

“Good. You’re safe with me.” Lect nodded reassuringly. Not without a blush, of course. Melody’s smiles never stopped having that effect on him. “This is to be your steed for the day. Her name is Leliquiole.” He handed her the reins of the plain, chestnut mare. “She’s mild-tempered. I think you should have no difficulty riding her.”

“Understood. Hello, Leliquiole. I’m Cecilia. Nice to meet you.”

The horse snorted in reply, shutting her eyes in contentment as Melody stroked her. Lect was glad to see they got along and that he’d turned down his brother’s offer to be an instructor again.

I couldn’t have been here if I were busy teaching, he thought. His lord’s orders placed him here today, aligning his personal goals with his pre-existing duties. Teaching would certainly have put him and Melody in contact more frequently, but this arrangement allowed him to be of genuine use to her, to be more than a passive observer. He liked to think so, anyway.

He glanced at Celedia, who chatted cheerfully with Ciestine. Had he not known better, he would have figured her for a normal girl. But she was a thief, a stranger posturing as his lord’s daughter. Only he was privy to this truth. It wasn’t so long ago that he’d sworn with great passion to uncover her true identity and oust her from the life she did not deserve.

But I’m powerless at the moment. I haven’t a clue how to pry her secrets from her. Lect was not a schemer. He wanted to help, to do something, but he was at a loss as to how. If I bring the matter to my lord, his next question will be why I doubt the girl, and then I’ll have to reveal Melody’s identity and rob her of her dream… Lect gritted his teeth.

His best bet was to stay as close to Celedia as possible. Being her personal guard would have been a good start, but that job belonged to Sable, and Lect couldn’t exactly object, seeing as Sable had found the girl in the first place. His only recourse was sabotage, a route he was loathe to take against his brother-in-arms. And thus his wheels spun, on and on, going everywhere but anywhere.

“What to do?” he growled.

“Say, Leliquiole, what do you think he’s muttering about over there?” Melody asked the mare.

The mare snorted, for it did not know.

They were on their way before long, Christopher with Anna-Marie, Ciestine with Celedia, and Melody with Luciana.

“Our destination is my family’s ranch,” the prince said. “Just northwest of here. It’s about an hour’s journey by horse.”

Christopher took the lead, setting a leisurely pace. Melody and Luciana trailed at the back of the pack. Behind them, a ways away, Rook and Lect followed. The prince and princess’s guards kept watch at all angles, remaining just out of sight. Ideally, there would have been more of them, but after stubborn insistence, they’d agreed to a small, elite squad of nobles. It helped that the capital was today, as on most days, traditionally peaceful.

They passed several travelers along the way, but those encounters dwindled as they exited the main highway and made for a byroad that led to the ranch. Some fifty minutes later, the ranch finally came into view. Horses, still dots in the distance, darted and played in expanses of fenced-off greenery.

By the time they could make out individual buildings, they were on the final leg of their journey. About five hundred yards remained. The road itself was quite spacious, with enough room for three to ride shoulder to shoulder, presumably to facilitate the passage of carriages.

Faced with such a perfect venue, Ciestine could hardly contain herself. “What say you to a race, Madam Cecilia?”

“A race?”

The princess brought Sheltante to a stop, so Melody did the same with Leliquiole.

“It’s the perfect place to put our steeds’ speed to the test, don’t you think? Sheltante would be right at home, and I do want to give the old boy the chance to stretch his legs.”

“That’s understandable, but why does that mean we have to race?”

“Because it’s fun! You bested me in the ballroom, but I’m a better rider than dancer, if I do say so myself. Indulge me, won’t you?”

I certainly don’t mind, but does Leliquiole? Melody wondered. According to Lect, she was a mild-tempered horse. That didn’t exactly scream “competitive” to Melody. She feared she might not meet the princess’s expectations.

She stroked the mare’s neck. “Feel like running, girl?” Leliquiole neighed, lurching her head toward the white stallion next to her, almost as though in challenge. “I see. Very well, Your Highness. You have a match.”

“My thanks! Prince Christopher, if you’d be so kind as to be our judge.”

“You and your stallion are quite alike in spirit,” Christopher joked. “Anna-Marie, I’ll hurry to the end so I can ascertain the winner. Wait here and give them the start signal, would you?”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

Anna-Marie slid down and took a position off to the side of the competitors. Christopher cantered to the end of the road and stopped at their improvised finish line. When he was ready, he raised his hand.

“Seems all is in order. Is everybody ready?” Anna-Marie asked.

“I am,” Melody answered. “Lady Luciana, we’re going to be flying, so hold on to me and don’t let go, okay?”

“Can do! You’re not ever gonna pry me off!” the lady boasted.

“Lady Celedia, it seems our competition has opted to ride in tandem. I do hope that’s agreeable to you, in the name of fairness,” Ciestine said.

“O-of course! Don’t hold back, Your Highness!”

“I’ve no intention to. Hold on tight, now. We don’t want you to fall.”

The competitors put some distance between their steeds, so as to avoid collisions, then brought them to the starting line Anna-Marie had drawn in the dirt. Melody and Ciestine gripped their reins. Behind them, legs draped gracefully over one side of the saddle, their respective maidens clung tightly to their waists. The guards kept a watchful eye from far back.

“On go,” Anna-Marie said. “Three, two, one…go!”

With a crack of the reins, they were off. Neck and neck, dust trailing behind them, the white stallion did battle with the chestnut mare.

“Go, go!” Luciana cheered, cackling like a little girl. “Kick their butts, Cecilia! Run like the wind, Leliquiole!”

Celedia shrieked. “I-I’m falling! I’m falling!”

Ciestine and Melody were completely silent, their minds on the race, but the laughter and screams were loud enough to reach Anna-Marie, even as the horses sped off.

Poor Lady Celedia, she thought. Lucky Luciana.

Five hundred yards was nothing for a horse. The race ended in an instant. When it was over, the swallow-tailed jockey raised her fist in the air, the white stallion reeling back with a great cry.

“The winner is Ciestine!”

Chapter 20:
The Horseback Date:
Plumles and Memories

THE RACE ENDED IN CIESTINE’S VICTORY. The image of her with her fist thrust into the air, confidence oozing off of her, brought to mind a young, fiery boy more so than a princess.

The entry to the ranch was as spacious as the road, and it took their horses a while to slow down. They trotted along together as they did.

“It seems you’ve won the day,” Melody said. “Congratulations, Your Highness.” Sweat glistened on her forehead. She’d ridden to win.

As had Ciestine. She grinned, beads of sweat rolling down her face. “Thank you, but it was hardly an easy feat. I regard my horsemanship highly, and you kept pace the whole way.”

“You won by a whole head, but Leliquiole did her best.”

“Only a head, and you riding her for the very first time. Your seemingly endless talents are truly humbling, Madam Cecilia. Truly humbling.”

“Yeah, she’s kind of the best,” Luciana gloated. “Cecilia can do anything and everything!”

Ciestine blinked at the doting declaration. “My apologies to you, Lady Luciana, for presuming your consent to this contest as well.”

“Not necessary, Your Highness. I rather enjoyed myself. I’ve never ridden so fast before!”

But I’ve flown faster! she added silently. Back when she visited her home over the summer recess, Melody had flown her to the estate, and that had been leagues faster. Then again, horseback was an altogether different kind of speed. Luciana didn’t discriminate.

Ciestine’s relief was short-lived. She remembered the arms locked around her waist and twisted around. “L-Lady Celedia. Are you all right?”

“F-fine,” Celedia whimpered. The world was still spinning around her, and it was only thanks to her iron grip on Ciestine that she hadn’t toppled off the horse altogether. But who knew how long that would last.

“I oughtn’t have pushed you, knowing how fragile your health is. I’m sorry, Lady Celedia.”

“I’m fine. Really, I’m fine. I just…need a minute. I beg you.” The girl slumped against the princess’s back.

Ciestine felt her weight, the heat emanating from this frail noblewoman, and it didn’t register one bit, given the circumstances, because they were both girls.

Celedia cackled anyway, silently, victoriously. This nausea is by no means an act, but it serves me well. Leah’s memories tell me that physical contact is a surefire route to the heart. Your, urp, affections are mine!

Perhaps they might have been, were Schroden her target. All Ciestine felt for the girl was innocent sympathy. Tindalos, however, unaware of the complicated intricacies of gender and attraction, was all but assured of its success. Perhaps it would have succeeded indeed. One day. A day far from this one.

Sometime later, when she’d had time to recover, Celedia managed to untangle herself from her savior. “Thank you, Your Highness. I feel much better.”

“That’s good to hear. I’m sorry again for all but forcing you to participate. It must have been an ordeal.”

“I don’t mind an ordeal or two when I’m spending time with you, Your Highness.”

Celedia had fully set her sights on Ciestine. Why? Process of elimination. The prince came with too many obstacles, considering their difference in status and the existence of Anna-Marie. They’d been two parts of one whole at the ball, like a long-married couple, and Celedia had the sense to recognize a losing battle when she saw one.

Her next potential option was Maxwell, but he was highly inaccessible due to being a second-year. They should have interacted more by now, according to Leah’s memories, but they hadn’t seen each other since the social.

Then there was Lect and Bjork. She didn’t know the first thing about either of them. She ought to have gotten to know the former somewhat, being a daughter of House Leginbarth, but the mandatory dorm system at the academy precluded her from being home very often. It didn’t help that Lect wasn’t even her guard. She’d taken Bjork, too, out of the running early on. Supposedly a puppet of Vanargand, Celedia had no means of tracking the man, and therefore no means of conquering him.

Thus, the crosshairs landed on Ciestine, who should have been Schroden, but Celedia was operating under the assumption that conquering one was tantamount to conquering the other. She had to be prepared to charm the princess at every opportunity.

“It gladdens me to hear you say that. How did you like your first ride?”

This is it! Celedia shrieked to herself. This was the line she’d been waiting for, the exact question Schroden would have asked her were he here. A difference of tense aside, it was close enough to Leah’s recollection to satisfy Celedia.

She put on the best, most ethereal and melancholic smile she could muster. “It’s curious how much the world can change from a different vantage point. I could gaze from here forever.”

She took in the ranch around them. From horseback, it made quite the vast and impressive sight. She’d merely observed the obvious with her statement.

Schroden’s heart may have skipped a beat, just as it had in the game, urging him to speak the next line, which would be an invitation to continue their little retreat. But it was not Schroden sitting in front of Celedia. It was Ciestine.

“I’m glad you managed to find some measure of enjoyment. Shall we gaze a little longer?”

“Huh?” Celedia yelped.

Ciestine spurred Sheltante toward the fields where his equestrian kin galloped freely. “Reaffix your grip! I’m going to pick up our pace!”

“A-affixing!”

“If you’ll excuse us, Madam Cecilia, Lady Luciana.”

“Have fun,” Melody said.

“Safe travels, Lady Celedia!” Luciana called after them as they galloped away.

Melody giggled. “Oh, Sheltante. Such a boy. Not like our Leliquiole. Graceful and calm. Let’s take our time, shall we?”

Leliquiole nickered her approval.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with a lady who’s a little rough around the edges,” Luciana said. “Don’t you think, Leliquiole?”

Again, the mare nickered approvingly.

“Well, which is it? Lady Luciana, you’re confusing the issue.”

Leliquiole slowly carried them away as the maid and her lady smiled at each other.

Elsewhere, the third couple, Christopher and Anna-Marie, watched on from horseback. Neither knew what to make of what they’d just witnessed.

“Well?” Christopher asked.

“I don’t know,” Anna-Marie sighed. “She invited Cecilia, but she said the line to Celedia. That’s what Schroden says to the heroine on their date.”

“Well, then we know for certain she’s his stand-in.”

“She’s a bad one. Be consistent. Have the right dialogue with the right person. This is telling us jack about who the heroine is.”

“So the jury’s still out for both of them. Great.”

They weren’t supposed to race in this scene, but it boded well for Cecilia being the day’s main character. Then again, Ciestine had shared the all-important line with Celedia, which was both tantalizing and infuriating to those who wished the princess would make up her mind.

Anna-Marie and her beloved prince shared a furtive sigh.

“I may have forgotten myself. My apologies, Lady Celedia.”

“N-no, Your Highness. I’m fine. I’m…urp.”

“I am so sorry.”

Everyone sat gathered on a blanket at one end of the field for a picnic. When Ciestine came back after her romp with Sheltante, however, Celedia had been afflicted with a severe case of horse-sickness. She leaned against the princess for several minutes until the nausea passed.

“Thank you, Your Highness. I feel well again.”

“I am deeply sorry, Lady Celedia.”

“How about we all reset with a cup of tea?” Anna-Marie suggested.

A group of women—ladies-in-waiting, evidently—passed cups around. Lunch had been prepared in advance at the palace, and it seemed it wasn’t just guards who had followed them but an entire retinue.

I was so focused on the ride that I didn’t notice. Ladies-in-waiting. Real, royal ladies-in-waiting! Melody’s eyes sparkled with admiration and envy. How skillfully they served, even in an unfamiliar environment. How gracefully. To Melody’s starved, maidly heart, these women were a feast but also a curse. How I wish I could have joined them.

Melody quickly reprimanded herself. It was rude to think such things when she was here on an invitation.

Lunch was a picnic staple: sandwiches paired with an assortment of sides meant to be eaten with a fork, including a lovely array of vegetables cut into bite-sized pieces. It made for a strong first impression. The traditional cries of deliciousness rang out.

“It’s quite a nice change of pace, eating by hand like this in the outdoors,” Ciestine said, stuffing her face with a sandwich.

“Geh!” Luciana groaned.

“What is it?” Melody asked.

“I thought this was a cherry, but it’s so sour. What is it?”

“Cherries? Ah, you mean the plumles. They do look like cherries, don’t they? But no, they aren’t sweet in the slightest.”

The plumles Melody referred to sat among the vegetables. They were red, round things very much like cherries.

“They’re included with meals sometimes as palette cleansers,” Anna-Marie explained. “I’ve no taste for them, personally.”

“You’d have to be crazy to.” Luciana scrunched up her face.

Melody laughed, reminded of the expression of someone eating a whole pickled plum.

“It’s not funny, Cecilia!”

“I’m sorry. I was just remembering. My late mother wasn’t a fan of plumles either.”

“She wasn’t?”

“Not in the slightest, but ‘where there’s sour, there’s power,’ as she would always say. She’d force herself to eat them, and the face she’d make was a lot like yours just now. That’s why I’m laughing.”

“How odd,” Celedia said. “I simply wouldn’t have eaten them.”

Melody smiled. She did not disagree. It’s nice, she thought, getting to speak with others about her.

The topic of conversation soon shifted to the race from earlier.

“I must say, your proposal for a contest was awfully sudden,” Christopher said.

“My thanks for indulging,” Ciestine replied. “I was outdone one too many times by Madam Cecilia, but I apologize if my competitiveness caused you any undue stress.”

“Outdone? How so?” Melody asked without a whiff of artifice.

Ciestine sighed in defeat. “At the ball, for one. And then again on our most recent test. I was aiming for the top spot, I’ll have you know, only for you to go and score full marks.”

“Even without Cecilia, you still would have been tied with His Highness,” Anna-Marie said. “I didn’t think a perfect score was possible, frankly.”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

Melody’s head swiveled as she looked between each of them. “It was a fluke, honest.”

“You’re too humble,” Ciestine said. “Regardless of how you feel about it, I’ve lost to you twice, and though I intend to improve my studies, as well as brush up on my dancing in anticipation of a rematch some day, my impatience got the better of me. I had to best you at something.”

“Hence the race.”

“Indeed. I must say, it was a bitter victory, hard-won despite me riding my favored steed while you rode one you’d never met. As I said, madam, you humble me. The world is indeed a rich tapestry.” She shook her head in resignation.

Inside, though, the princess burned. I intended to make an impression, both at the ball and in the classroom, yet she outshone me twice. She, a commoner.

In order to topple Theolas, Ciestine had to become bait, an obvious threat with supposedly villainous intentions. Once everyone focused on her, her entourage could safely gather intel, but they’d so far had little success, even at this early stage of the plan. It didn’t help that two other students dulled Ciestine’s mystique as a strange, new student. She’d failed to take the top spot on their first test. Then the monster attack eclipsed the mystery of her masculine clothing and princely bearing. All of this meant that a Rordpier princess was not the most noteworthy thing on people’s minds at the moment.

It’s only the first week. I can salvage this. How I hate to be outdone. Bitter though it had been, a victory was a victory. It pleased Ciestine. An opponent who’s always one step ahead of me calls to mind that reprehensible Schroden. In which case I may come to hate her as I hate him. I…hope I do not though.

Cecilia had a good heart. That was the difference between her and Schroden. But failure put Ciestine in a tough spot, recalling her painful childhood. She did not want to associate the girl with her brother, but what could she do about it?

Glimpsing the smile on Cecilia’s face, she took solace in the fact that the girl was who she was. Regardless of what her heart decided.

“I had great fun today, Your Highness. Thank you for inviting me.”

“Thank you for accepting. Let’s do it again sometime.”

“Absolutely.”

As the day waned and the sun sank toward the horizon, Ciestine, Christopher, and Anna-Marie departed for the castle with their guards in tow.

“Excuse me, Lect,” said Sable. “I’ll escort Lady Celedia home.”

“Of course. I’ll bring the horse with me.”

With that, only Melody, Luciana, Lect, and Rook remained.

“Thank you for lending me Leliquiole,” Melody said to the knight. “Pass my gratitude along to His Lordship too, if you have the chance. And thank you, Leliquiole, for being so sweet. It was a pleasure.” She stroked her temporary partner’s muzzle, and said partner snorted contentedly.

Lect smiled at the sight. “Well, I’m off to return her to the stable.”

“Right. I’m sorry we didn’t have a chance to talk much today.”

“I was on duty, in any case. A boring day is a good day for a guard. I’ll be glad to report to my lord that all was… Cecilia? You look unwell.” Lect peered down at her.

“Oh. Do I?” Melody set a bewildered hand on her cheek.

“The journey must have left you fatigued. You’d do well to return home and rest.”

Luciana rushed up to Melody. “What’s that? Cecilia doesn’t feel well?” She studied Melody’s complexion closely. “You do look a little pale. We need to get you back to your room. Take it easy for the rest of the day.”

“What?” Melody sputtered. That sounded an awful lot like “take a day off.” “I’m fine, my lady, really.”

“I hate to agree with Sir Gutless, but you do look sick,” Luciana said. “You said yourself that you haven’t been sleeping well. You need to go to bed early tonight.”

“B-but… Okay.” Melody knew better than to argue with her lady when she was worried.

“Off we go, Cecilia.”

“Of course. Thank you again, Lect.” She bowed to the knight, then followed Luciana and Rook back to their dorms.

Lect watched her go. Out of concern, of course. She looks more frail than normal. Have her shoulders always been so narrow?

Melody split from her lady after a short way to make for the Common Hall, leaving Rook to escort Luciana to her room. Now would have been when she prepared for work, but she was under strict orders to rest, which wasn’t a hard sell after a full day of horse riding.

She bathed and promptly slid into bed.

Can’t…sleep.

It wasn’t until late in the night that she finally drifted off.

Chapter 21:
Angel Emergency

PENCIL SCRATCHED AGAINST FABRIC. CAROL Misweed scowled as she etched out a rough sketch of her subject.

It was September 21st, the evening of the day after the horse ride. Students were just beginning their second week at the academy, and Melody had been sitting like a statue in her chair for over an hour now. But a promise was a promise. Carol hadn’t spoken a word the entire time Melody modeled for her, though, giving Melody plenty of time to think.

I knew she loved art. I’m still a little embarrassed about being a model, but that’s a small price to pay if it gives Carol the confidence to chase her dreams.

How could Carol suffer an hour of intense focus if she didn’t love what she did? In her, Melody found a glimmer of the incredible things passion could do to people.

And she yearned.

Must be nice.

Melody yearned for passion, the privilege to pour her all into something. She’d struggled through this past week, going without her maid duties for so long. This arrangement had been her idea, but that didn’t make it any easier to endure.

I completely underestimated just how hard this would be, she thought with a sigh.

“Let’s take a break. You’re distracted, Cecilia.”

“Oh, am I? Okay. Sorry.” She couldn’t deny it. Her mind had been wandering. She let her posture loosen as Carol rose and stretched. “How is the sketch coming? Well?”

“Hell.”

“That’s… Wait, what?” Carol was so dry that Melody almost thought she was hearing things. “Is there a problem?”

“I’m not sure. It’s like I can’t find it. I’m not seeing you, Cecilia.”

“I don’t follow.” Melody stood and approached the canvas. The sketch was lovely. The girl sitting in the chair was drawn beautifully. And yet… “It looks like something I would draw.”

In other words, Melody got no emotion from it. There was none of Carol in it.

The artist nodded in agreement, glaring at her work. “Exactly. It’s like I’m drawing a ghost or using a doll as reference. I just can’t see it. You, that is.”

“But I’m right here. What do you mean you can’t see me?”

“Right, but something just feels…off when I try to portray you. It’s like I’m drawing nothing, like the girl called Cecilia doesn’t actually exist. I’ve never had this happen before.”

Melody’s chest went tight—because Carol was exactly right. The girl called Cecilia McMarden didn’t exist.

She’s truly an artist. She saw straight through me to my truest self. I’ve heard only the best are capable of that.

Indeed, Melody was convinced all over again of Carol’s talents. It would have been a shame for her not to hone them in class, a true tragedy.

“Carol, our deal was that you would think about enrolling if I modeled for you, yes?”

“Er, yeah. But just think.”

“Right. And did you ever intend to do anything other than ‘just think?’”

She said nothing, but her pursed lips said everything. Carol averted her gaze.

“Why?” Melody pressed. “Why won’t you take the class when you so clearly have an interest in it? You visit often, don’t you?” She simply could not fathom it. Had Royal Academy offered a Maid Studies course, she would have already applied thrice over.

Carol could only withstand a few moments of Cecilia’s pleading gaze. “My father was a painter, an unsuccessful one. I’ll just come out and say it—he was destitute, though I never knew it growing up. He’s the one who taught me, and learning from him are some of my fondest memories, but I only have those memories because of my mother. She was the one who supported the family, at least until she finally overworked herself and became bedridden. My father had to stop painting at that point.”

She went on to explain how her father was forced to find work so her mother could recover, and that had ended his artistic dreams. Whenever he took up the brush, he would feel its poignant weight and remember how he had nearly lost those he cared about most. Even once they were financially secure, he couldn’t bring himself to take up art ever again.

“He tried to make his passion his work and lost everything because of it,” Carol continued. “If he’d settled for a decent job and kept art as a hobby, he might still be painting. Mom still looks through his pieces sometimes, and I can tell how sad it makes her. She wishes he hadn’t stopped.”

She smiled joylessly, likely a mirror of her mother. “Anyway, I learned everything I know from my father. Everything. He was a good teacher, I guess. I like drawing, but I have no intention of living off it. How could I ever tell him of all people that I plan to repeat his mistakes?”

Mistakes, a word flung out to try to hide the respect she clearly held for her father.

“That’s what you meant when you mentioned working in the palace,” Melody surmised.

“It’s not my only idea, but I hear it pays well. Just something to aim for. I probably can’t get it with my grades, though.” She huffed a sigh. She’d been giving it her all, and seemingly for nothing if last week’s test was any indication. Twenty-seventh out of thirty-three students wasn’t a confidence-inspiring ranking. “In any case, if I’m taking electives, I’d rather them be something practical and attractive to employers. I’m sorry for stringing you along.”

“It’s okay. Really. I was mostly only conveying the instructor’s wishes, but I do admit I’m a tad disappointed. I understand, though. The decision is ultimately yours.”

“Thanks, Cecilia. I appreciate that.”

Melody smiled, despite the conflicting emotions flashing through Carol’s expression. She’d already made her decision, and she had plenty of reason for it. It wasn’t Melody’s place to sway her one way or the other. She’s clearly not entirely convinced herself, given how frequently she loiters outside the art room, but I can hardly shove that in her face.

She had to respect Carol’s choice. There was nothing else for it.

“What do you intend to take for your electives?” Carol asked.

“Me? Applied Arcane Studies is the only one I know for certain. I’m still testing out the others with Lady Luciana.”

“Lady Luciana. Always Lady Luciana, huh?”

Carol did not seem surprised, and Melody grinned.

Obviously, Melody intended to enroll in anything Luciana did, as was her duty as her lady’s bodyguard. Luciana had insisted that she take whatever she wanted, but all Melody wanted was to ensure her lady’s safety, which meant taking the same classes as her. Thankfully, Luciana also intended to take Applied Arcane Studies.

“Arcane Studies. You can use magic, if I recall,” Carol said.

“I’m apparently quite good at it, according to the instructor.”

“Surprise, surprise. She’s good at everything.”

“But I’m entirely self-taught, so I lack a fundamental understanding of the basics. My hope is that the class will show me where my abilities stand compared to others.”

“You’ve taken the class once already, haven’t you? Any breakthroughs?”

Melody became distant all of a sudden. “I learned that casting spells of opposing affinities simultaneously is exceptionally difficult.”

“For you?”

“Not particularly, no.”

“Had a hunch.”

A dreadfully awkward silence fell, soon broken by a snicker. Then a chuckle. Then Carol outright cackled. “You really are Miss Perfect! You’re so ridiculous it’s hilarious!” She hugged herself as laughter overcame her.

“Well, I don’t find it that funny!” Melody said with a pout.

“I sure do! You can’t tell me this isn’t absurd!”

Carol went on laughing, and Melody went on blushing. Nothing she said seemed to quell Carol’s raucous howling, but eventually it did subside into giggle fits.

Carol wiped her teary eyes, sane again. “Wow, that was funny. I can’t remember the last time I laughed that hard.”

“Your actions are hurtful, you know. This is a genuine problem for me.”

“Right, sorry. It’s just, we’re worrying about completely opposite things. You can do everything, so your future prospects are basically limitless. Must be hard, having so many options.”

“Not at all. I already know with complete certainty what I want to spend the rest of my life doing.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“Not telling!” Melody gave Carol the cold shoulder with a pout, but Carol found it cute instead of off-putting. It reminded her that even Miss Perfect was only human.

How can someone as vibrant as her be so colorless? Carol wondered. It’s a mystery. She squinted as she studied Melody, her creative blood boiling. She would find this girl’s hue, so help her.

“Ready to get back to modeling?”

Break time was over, and Carol seemed free from her prior gloom. Melody ceased sulking as well. “Yes. My schedule is free, so we have the entire evening.”

My lady made sure of that when I told her what I had promised. Her lady was a kind mistress, Melody knew that, but she craved the apron dearly. Oh, I wish I could work.

“Cecilia. Focus.”

“Yes. Of course. So sorry.”

I need to stop getting distracted, Melody scolded herself. Think happy thoughts.

She thought happy thoughts for another two hours. And still.

Carol hummed. “It’s just not happening. What am I missing?”

“I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”

Several drafts later, Carol still hadn’t finished. In her own words, she had managed to draw only ghosts.

I know exactly what the problem is, but I can’t help her, Melody grieved. Am I really a “ghost” when I’m Cecilia? What does she mean by that?

“Thanks again, Cecilia. Good night.”

“Good night.”

Alone again, Carol studied the girl depicted on her canvas. I just can’t get her right. Or maybe I’m getting her just fine, and this is who Cecilia is, but why does it feel so…wrong?

Cecilia McMarden, a beauty of angelic proportions, a genius in the classroom and a master in the ballroom, and a kind girl, one so earnest Carol sincerely doubted she could be anything other than who she portrayed herself as. She wasn’t much of an artist, but she’d certainly mastered technique. Based on their previous chat, she could even ride horses.

Could someone really be so perfect?

She’s as good as it gets as far as models go, but all of my depictions are lacking something. Color. Hers. It’s like…she’s faded. Like a ghost. Carol was all but convinced of this theory. Cecilia was an incredibly charming girl. The only possible explanation for why her visage appeared inadequate on the canvas was that Cecilia herself was missing something. But what exactly? A ghost is empty. Nothing. So does that mean Cecilia feels empty too?

Carol gulped. Cecilia was already mesmerizing. Overwhelmingly so. Was this really her at her lowest?

I might regret saying this, but I’m curious to see her when she’s shining. I need to paint her at her peak. How vibrant those hues would be.

Next door, inaudible to Carol, her subject lamented. “I want to be a maid!” Such was her pain.

Melody suffered yet another restless night of a forgotten dinner and sleeplessness.

Melody failed to stifle a yawn. “Goodness, excuse me.”

Ciestine chuckled. “I’ve never seen a faux pas so adorable.”

Melody blushed. She sat in first period on the next day, September 22nd, in order to attend a dance lesson with all of the first-years.

The end of October marked the beginning of the school festival, aptly titled the Festival Ball, a function wherein students could mingle and make merry, commoner and noble alike, without regard for status. A lowborn might find themselves dancing with aristocracy at such an event, so today’s lesson was very much for their benefit. The class would meet several times like this leading up to the ball.

Acknowledging that everyone was starting at different skill levels, the class was divided into advanced, intermediate, and beginner groups. Melody, the vaunted Angel, naturally found herself in the advanced group, and when it came time to pair up, Ciestine was quick to proffer her hand.

“Late night?” the princess asked.

“Oh, no, I’ve simply had trouble sleeping. I’m quite all right, though.”

“Hm. Your complexion tells a different story.”

“Does it? I feel perfectly fine.”

“You know best, but please, lean on me should you need anything. I don’t want to see you overexerting yourself.”

“I will. Thank you, Your Highness.”

They smiled at each other, attracting somehow even more attention from the rest of the class. They were a natural legendary pair. There would be stories told of the show they put on at the Summer Ball, and here they were together again. All present eagerly anticipated an encore.

“All pairs, at the ready,” the instructor announced. “Music beginning shortly.”

Melody and Ciestine faced one another, held hands, and prepared to waltz. Even some from the intermediate group couldn’t help but steal glances at them. The beginner group, composed primarily of commoners who would not have known of the Angel’s ascension into legend, cast them the fewest looks. There was one among them, however, who could not tear her eyes away.

That’s my conquest! Celedia fumed. You get your hands off her!

Her blue blood still fresh, Celedia had next to no formal training, and so found herself among the common folk. She could but watch from afar as Ciestine rubbed shoulders, and a little more, with another.

Celedia panicked. Following Leah’s memories, she had played her part well during the horse ride, spoken the appropriate lines, and gotten the appropriate responses, which meant she should have been all the closer to ensnaring the princess (in lieu of the prince). But all that work had done little to change the nature of her interactions with Ciestine. Something precluded Celedia from meaningful progress, and that something was hardly a mystery.

It’s that dastardly homewrecker! That little harlot shamelessly holding hands with Her Highness right in front of me!

Cecilia had been an obstacle from the very first moment Ciestine invited her on the ride. The race, curiously absent from Leah’s memories, had similarly been all about Cecilia. Who else could Celedia’s enemy be but her?

So long as she’s around, my conquest will not advance! I need to do something. Celedia glared venom at the girl. She had only one recourse. I need her gone by any means necessary.

Mana whirled within the Dark One like a vortex of vile, black tar. She could not kill Cecilia, lest she risk Leah’s dormant ego unleashing a torrent of tears. Neither could she risk the burden such extreme use of her powers would place on her mortal body.

But no longer can I allow that girl to stand in my way!

Enough games. Celedia would put Cecilia down here and now, consequences be damned. Her vessel contained enough mana to render the task trivial. The moment the music began, she would strike. Just before the wretch began her dance, she would fall, never to rise again.

Dark mana coalesced in Celedia’s palm. The instructor raised the magical implement from which the music would play.

“On my count. One, two—”

Perish, Cecilia! Celedia thrust her hand at the girl.

But she never managed to launch her attack.

“Madam? Madam Cecilia?!” Ciestine grabbed her.

Before Celedia could do a thing, Cecilia was already collapsing.

“Madam Cecilia!” Ciestine shouted. “We need assistance! She isn’t responding!”

“What’s wrong with her?! Cecilia?!” cried Luciana.

Anna-Marie came running. “Give her space! I’ll check her respiration and heart rate. Prince Christopher, a stretcher!”

“On it.” The prince was quick to act.

Chaos erupted. Celedia just stood there. What? Why? That wasn’t even me! She had cast no spell, yet Cecilia had fallen. What in the name of all that is twisted and unholy just happened?! Shock was quickly reverting the lady back into the beastly Tindalos.

They whisked away Cecilia away in a flash. And that was that.

Elsewhere…

“Serena?! Goodness, are you okay?!”

The doll crumbled to her knees. She’d been serving tea to her mistress, Marianna, at the Rudleberg estate when a sudden weakness came over her. She clutched her chest as the countess rushed to her side. “Gentlesister?”

She cast her eyes in the direction of Royal Academy. Melody had not built her an alarm function of any kind, nothing that should have told her when Melody was in danger, and yet, somehow, she knew.

“She needs me. Celesty…”

Chapter 22:
The Maid Maniac Has a Midnight Visitor

THE MOMENT MELODY FORCED HER HEAVY eyelids open, harsh light invaded her pupils. The jolt helped her regain her senses somewhat.

Where am I? she thought groggily. Melody tried to open her eyes fully, but found she could only manage to get halfway. Is this…the infirmary?

She lay in a bed. A drawn curtain provided some privacy. Melody was conscious enough to note that the room felt very much like a typical nurse’s office on Earth.

Amid her daze, the curtain flew open. “Cecilia’s awake! Madam, she’s awake!” Luciana called out.

“And she likely doesn’t appreciate the shouting, Rudleberg,” a clinician said. “McMarden, how do you feel?”

“What happened?” Melody groaned.

“You passed out during dance class. Can you remember anything?”

The clinician’s words finally awoke something in Melody. “I do now. Just before we began, everything suddenly started spinning.”

“And then you fell right over,” Luciana said. “Scared me half to death.”

“Your friend here stayed with you the entire time,” the clinician said. “It’s late afternoon now. The school day has ended.”

“Goodness, I…” Melody muttered.

“Can you move? Stand?”

Melody tried but could not so much as sit up in bed. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I can.”

“I see. Lethargy, vertigo… Anemia-like symptoms. Not another one.”

“Another what?” Luciana said. “Do you know what’s wrong? Is it not anemia?”

“Are either of you familiar with the condition commonly known as ‘mana sickness’?”

“That’s, um…”

“Exogenous manawave hypersensitivity,” Melody answered.

“Full marks, McMarden,” said the clinician.

“That’s when your body disagrees with the local mana and it makes you sick, right?” asked Luciana. “That’s not what Cecilia has, is it?!”

“It’s a possibility. Nothing more. It comes to mind because we just recently had a student who had to leave because of it, but we would need to test Ms. McMarden to be certain. I would recommend it. The royal court regulates the magic tool necessary for the test. I can petition them at once.”

Luciana nodded her approval, anxiety tightening her expression.

Melody couldn’t stay in the infirmary forever. She had to get back to the Common Hall somehow.

“Rook’s coming with the carriage,” Luciana told her.

“Is that proper?”

“It’s fine. I got permission.”

Rook arrived shortly and parked the carriage just outside. He took one look at Melody’s frail state and frowned, then lifted her out of bed. “Let’s be off.”

“Right. Thank you again,” Luciana said to the caretaker.

“I’ll be in touch once the equipment’s arrived,” the clinician said.

Rook gently placed Melody into the carriage, and off they went.

Micah, hearing the news, made for the Common Hall at once to ensure Melody had a tidy place in which to rest. It took little explaining for Marissa, the dorm supervisor, to unlock the door for her.

“Make sure the bed’s made, prepare a change of clothes… Will she have an appetite, I wonder? Some pudding or yogurt would be perfect right about now.” It was a lot to handle last minute, but Serena’s crash course had prepared Micah for this. Still, as Micah worked, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. “Hm. Can’t quite put my finger on it. Something with the room. Oh! I should make some porridge. That would do the trick. These rooms come with a small kitchen, I…think?”

Micah rifled through the kitchen. Much banging and clanging ensued. Then she emerged, sullen. “Miss Melody…”

“Micah? Are you here?”

The maid-in-training, her rambling thoughts cut short, darted to the door, through which Luciana entered, followed by Rook carrying a despondent Melody. He placed Melody in bed, where she simply lay, still lacking the strength for anything else. Rook then exited the room so the girls could get Melody properly changed.

“How are you feeling?” Luciana asked. “Any better?”

“Not particularly, no. I’m sorry, my lady. I can’t lift a finger.”

Micah approached from behind, interrupting Luciana’s worrying by offering her an empty cup. “Could you fill this, my lady?”

“Sure. Fare Acqua. But couldn’t you have just fetched some from the jar?”

“I would, if it weren’t empty. Which it is. Completely bone dry.”

“What? Empty?” How was that possible? How did anyone, in the course of day-to-day life, manage to completely drain their water reserves without refilling it?

Micah mixed two powders into the water, then addressed Rook, who’d returned after Melody was dressed. “Lift her, would you? Miss Melody, drink this. Slowly, please.”

Rook helped incline Melody forward enough to do as Micah asked. When Melody drank, she found the concoction first sweet, then salty. Sugar and salt. A simple solution for rehydration. She fed it to Melody one sip at a time over the course of several minutes until the cup was empty, then let her rest.

Soon, the fog clouding Melody’s mind cleared. She could move her fingers, then lift her arms. The effects didn’t quite reach her torso yet, but she was making progress.

“Look at you!” Luciana cheered. “Way to go, Micah!”

“Thank you. I’m feeling better already,” said Melody.

“I’m sure,” Micah said. She eyed her mentor with judgment. “Your brain definitely needed the sugar.”

“What do you mean?” Luciana asked.

“First, a question, if I may. Miss Melody, have you been eating breakfast?”

“Breakfast? Of course I…erm.”

“Dinner?”

“Dinner…”

“Melody? Micah? What’s this about?” demanded Luciana.

“Her kitchen? It’s completely barren. No water. No ingredients. No spices.”

“Barren? No water?!”

“This room feels like it belongs to a ghost. It’s not at all lived in. Miss Melody, I ask you again. Breakfast and dinner. When are you eating them?”

Sugar coursed through Melody’s synapses, drawing forth a picture of past events. The last week came to her with renewed clarity, as well as her eating practices—or lack thereof. “I…don’t believe I’ve eaten anything but lunch since moving into the dormitory.”

Luciana exploded. “You what?!”

Rook’s eyes went wide.

Micah massaged her temples. “I knew it.”

“You haven’t had breakfast or dinner one time?! Only lunch?!”

“It would, um, appear so,” Melody admitted sheepishly.

“‘It would appear so,’ she says.”

“I’ve been so groggy in the mornings, and I forgot in the evenings.”

“You have to be joking.”

“Miss Melody,” Micah interjected, “how has your sleep been? How many hours are you getting?”

“I typically fall asleep somewhere around two and wake at my normal hour,” she replied.

“That would be five. So three hours of sleep.”

“You’ve been running on three hours of sleep every day for the past week?!” blurted Luciana.

“And it was likely eating at her judgment, so much so that she never realized how bad things had gotten.”

“How does that even happen?” Luciana was, frankly, incredulous. Things were worse than bad.

“In short, Melody was sleeping and eating so little that it finally came to a head, and she passed out,” Rook summarized.

“Exactly,” Micah confirmed.

Rook frowned, disappointed.

“But really, though, how?” Luciana asked again. “Melody’s always so rigorous about her health.”

“We’re partly to blame,” Micah said.

“We are? How so?”

“Make no mistake, our intentions were pure. We wanted to lighten the burden of a new routine on Miss Melody, in my case by studying under Serena, and in yours, my lady, by mediating her relationships.”

“Right. I wanted things to be easy for her.”

“That was our mistake.”

“What?”

“In our overbearing concern for her, we lost sight of something important.”

“And that is?”

Micah didn’t answer, instead stepping closer to Melody. She asked perhaps the most absurd question possible in this scenario. “Miss Melody, would you like to take over my duties today?”

“Micah! You can’t possibly be serious!” Luciana couldn’t believe the cruelty. This wasn’t like Micah at all. Melody couldn’t even stand!

Or so she thought.

In what could only be described as an act of God, Melody shot up.

“M-Melody? Are you okay?” Luciana yelped as brilliant, silver light illuminated the room.

“Teattrice—release.”

White enshrouded Melody, who stood on the bed. Her silhouette began to change, the silver light dimming as it did. When the illumination died completely, what remained was the proud figure of that all-works maid Luciana knew so well: Melody Wave. Her once wan skin glowed with life, limbs previously fragile now vigorously animated, false features replaced with Melody’s truest smile.

“I thought you’d never ask!” she exclaimed. “Don’t you worry! I’ll take it from here!” Stepping down from the bed, she displayed a most perfect curtsy.

“Um, Melody, I’m sorry but were you not in the process of withering away just a minute ago?!” Luciana said.

“Not to worry, my lady. I got better. Somehow.”

“‘Somehow,’ she says!”

I remember the heroine learns healing magic near the end of the game, Micah recalled. She must have unconsciously cast it on herself just now. Of course, to everyone else without past life knowledge, this seemed like a miracle.

Melody apparently didn’t particularly care what anyone attributed her recovery to. “Now, my lady, where shall I begin?”

“But what just happened?! I’m getting whiplash here!”

“This is what happens when we don’t let her work,” Micah said. “We’re witnessing the rebound.”

“The ‘rebound?’”

“Miss Melody was deprived of vital maid nutrients. She cannot live without them, for she loves maids—nay, she lives and breathes maids. She depends upon them as an addict depends upon a vice. She has become no mere admirer, but a maid maniac through and through!”

“A maid what now?”

“I’m saying she’s so obsessed with maids that she can’t live without them.”

“My goodness! Wait, we already knew that.”

“Well, yes, but the point is that we smothered her with our affection. We tore her away from her maids. That’s what caused her health to deteriorate.”

“I see. I get it now. So Melody has to be a maid or she goes through withdrawal.”

“Precisely. A smoker doesn’t thrive without his vice. So it is with Miss Melody and maids.”

“That makes so much sense.”

“What am I listening to?” Rook mumbled. He regarded the two theorists as if they were speaking heresy.

“So what needs doing, Micah? Cooking? Cleaning? Sewing? Laundry?” Melody asked. “I’ll do it all! Don’t hold back! Melody isn’t just at your service, she’s on top of her game!” She put her hands together and held them against her cheek in a cloying gesture, her eyes glistening, cheeks flushed, lips full. She let out a dreamy sigh, the very picture of an innocent maiden in love.

Rook looked away. This was not for his eyes, nor those of any man.

Micah let out a squee. “You’re so adorable, Miss Melody! Your ravenous appetite for all things maidly only makes you that much more magnetic.”

“Okay, but what now? She looks like she’s about to spin out of control,” Luciana said.

“That’s a good thing. We need to let her get it out of her system.” Micah removed a tea set and tea from her bag and placed them on the desk. “Miss Melody, our lady would like some tea.”

Melody froze, her bubble popped, before noticing the tea set and donning her usual composed grin. “At once, my lady.” It was done in a flash. “Here you are.”

“Thank you,” Luciana said.

And then there was tea. Melody’s room lacked a proper table, so she had to make do with a small one. Luciana sat on the desk chair, Micah on the bed, while Melody and Rook stood for lack of other seating options, a bold move for someone who’d been bedridden moments ago.

One gulp, and calm washed over Luciana. “Nobody makes tea like you, Melody.”

“I’m flattered, my lady.”

“It’s good to see you back to normal,” Micah said.

“I’m impressed that you had a tea set ready to go.”

“Miss Serena taught me well.”

“What I want to know is what she taught you.”

“Are we going to return to the matter at hand anytime soon?” Rook interjected. They’d gone absurdly far off track.

“Right, sorry,” Micah said. “Anyway, as we can see, you can take Miss Melody out of maids, but you can’t take maids out of Miss Melody. Meaning…”

“She won’t last as a student,” Luciana surmised.

“Essentially, yes.”

“What?! Why not?” Melody blurted.

“If you prioritize your studies, it means forgoing your duties, and then we’re back to square one. You’ll become a liability to our lady’s safety if guarding her means you fall ill again.”

Melody groaned.

“Blunt,” Rook said.

“She deserves it for scaring us like this. There’s nothing wrong with having strengths and weaknesses.”

“Micah’s right,” Luciana said. “My heart nearly stopped when Melody fell unconscious. It reminded me of before… I was afraid we wouldn’t get her back this time.”

“My lady…” Melody breathed.

Luciana would never forget the day Melody had nearly died at the county. To say it had traumatized her would be no exaggeration. For her part, Melody could not bear to see Luciana come to harm.

“I sincerely apologize for the fright my actions have given you all,” Melody said. “However, I don’t intend to retire Cecilia. Lady Luciana’s safety is my number one priority, and to that end, I propose once again my idea to carry out both responsibilities at once!”

“No.”

“Not happening.”

“Not likely.”

“But why not?!” Melody cried. Neither Luciana nor Micah nor Rook would hear her.

“Because that’s how you pass out from physical fatigue,” Micah said.

“There’s no way we could keep up the farce either,” Luciana added. “Someone would discover your identity sooner or later.”

“And you know what that means for your maid life.”

“No!” Melody cried. “Anything but that!”

Living a double life was no easy feat. She managed it now, but as that balance became more precarious, complications would arise. Constant swapping inevitably meant more chances to slip up, and slipping up meant outing her magical capabilities, which of course spelled the end of her whole maid life. It was a very real possibility.

Color drained from Melody’s face as realization dawned.

“Melody!”

Melody stumbled and whimpered. Rook reacted swiftly to steady her.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Seems your recovery was only superficial,” the valet said.

“Sit, Miss Melody.”

She obeyed Micah’s suggestion and lowered herself onto the bed. She waited until the dizziness had passed before continuing. “It’s true. I’m more liable to make a burden of myself than safeguard my lady.”

“Couldn’t you use a clone of yourself to act as Cecilia? That way you could focus on maid work without arousing suspicion. Wouldn’t that solve everything?”

“Those clones are unreliable, I’m afraid. A single simulacrum contains very little mana and would vanish after only a little damage.”

“Hmm, that would certainly be a fast way to blow your cover, if somehow the disguise fell. Awfully risky,” Micah said.

“It would work well as a shield in a worst-case scenario. The clones might be worth keeping around, assuming we can mitigate the risks somehow.”

“So, um, if we’re just throwing out ideas…” Luciana began. She had one of her own. A revolutionary idea that promised to overturn everything Melody and Micah had considered thus far.

“Yes, my lady?”

“Do I even need protection?”

“My lady!”

Why would she would propose something so ludicrous while her maids were racking their brains over her safety? Did she need protection? Of course she did!

“This all started because of those monsters with the dark mana, right?” Luciana said. “But nobody’s seen hide nor hair of them since the attack. The city’s knights patrolled everywhere and found nothing. I just don’t see the sense in putting you through all this over danger that may or may not even exist, Melody.”

“B-but—”

“I’ll admit, I was thrilled at the idea of getting to attend the academy with you, but it’s hurting you more than it’s helping me. Seeing you like this, I just can’t be happy about it.”

“My lady…”

“Plus, well, I’ve been seeing a lot of Cecilia lately, but not a lot of Melody. Which isn’t to say Micah does a poor job. I just miss you is all.”

“My lady!” Melody covered her mouth, teary-eyed and brimming with emotion. To be wanted by one’s master or mistress—there was no greater honor for a servant. She could scarcely contain her joy, but anxiety swept in to temper it. “Thank you so much, my lady, but I worry for you. I don’t know what I’d do if something were to happen to you.”

“Then we simply have to make you not worry.”

“Pardon?”

It was so simple, Luciana thought. Melody was never worried about any dark mana. All this time, she was worried about me. When Prince Christopher was attacked at the Spring Ball, and Luciana took the blow for him, the strike was so powerful it shattered Melody’s defensive charms. Luciana had lost consciousness but was otherwise unharmed. Still, Luciana shuddered to think what might have happened had the assailant gone for her in her defenseless state. I might not even be here right now. Melody’s magic was strong enough to protect me even if the ballroom got blown to “smithereens,” and he’d shattered it entirely with a single blow. Doesn’t take a genius to figure out what would happen to me if I’d taken that hit head-on.

The incident certainly lingered in Melody’s mind as well. She feared the unknown, what might happen to her mistress unbeknownst to her. The idea that not even her magic would be enough to protect Luciana must have horrified Melody. The maid never let it show, but doubtless that dread clung to her heart like a shadow.

Just like the time I nearly lost her clings to mine. I’ll never forget that pain, and Melody is so kind. She wouldn’t forget the Spring Ball. She’d never allow that.

In that case, there was only one thing to do!

“Melody, I want you to take me to your usual woods tomorrow.”

“My usual woods?”

“M-my lady…” Micah stammered. She knew very well what Melody’s “usual woods” were, and that made her doubt her lady’s judgment.

Luciana smiled like she couldn’t have cared less. “I’m going to prove that you don’t need to worry about me.”

That’s right, Melody. We’re going to banish that fear of yours, one way or another. Our venue will be one she’s exceedingly familiar with: the Great Vanargand Wood! Luciana knew. Melody might not, but Luciana did indeed realize her maid’s stomping grounds were the world’s largest blightland.

Perplexed, Melody agreed. And so the plan was made. They would go tomorrow.

Once the others had left for the Upper Hall, Melody changed back into Cecilia and got in bed.

“I hope I can sleep tonight.”

She hadn’t in quite a long time. According to Micah, it was due to accumulated stress from her inability to do maid work. Though she had (literally) magically recovered, the source of the problem yet remained, and despite her sincerest desire, that cup of tea would be her only maidly task for the day.

I’m going out with my lady tomorrow. I ought to rest. But the urgency of her need for rest precluded the act itself. I mustn’t worry her again. Oh, what to do?

Then she heard it. A voice singing gently and melodiously. It cradled her, promising repose.

Is that…a lullaby? Where’s it coming from? Outside? But who would be singing at this hour? It did not sound far off. If she drew her curtains, she might have found the culprit, but rising from her bed was the last thing she wanted to do now. The lullaby was too sweet, too comforting, too familiar. I know this song. She sang it for me when I…was…

Her stress and anxieties melted away amid those sweet tones. Her eyelids drooped, and soon her breathing slowed, steadied. It was not even late into the night. At last, exhaustion washed over her.

The lullaby subsided shortly after Melody drifted to sleep, and her window opened quietly as someone entered. Darkness obscured their identity as they crept toward the sleeping girl and sat by her pillow. Slender fingers ran through her golden locks. Melody moaned and stirred.

Her eyes opened only slightly, but was she awake or merely caught in the torpor that preceded slumber?

The intruder gently covered her eyes. “Honestly, you’re such a handful, you know? You will waver. You will falter. You will stop and you will wonder and you will regret. You may even decide to turn back and walk another path. But know this: All is as it should be, so long as it is a path you’ve chosen, so long as you remain true to yourself. Remember. Remember the promises you’ve made to yourself. And walk.”

Melody would not remember those words come morning. In her daze, she could not recognize the voice that spoke them, but she did understand one thing: This intruder was welcome and not to be feared. The warmth from the hand over her eyes soothed her.

The voice resumed its song, heralding sweet dreams. This, Melody knew, for she was already in one.

“Good night…Mother.”

“Good night, Celesty. My sweet Celesty.”

A smile glanced across Melody’s mouth, and she slept, blissful and unaware of the lips that brushed her forehead in the darkness, of the loving smile on the intruder’s face.

The window shut again. Melody breathed, slow and steady.

Chapter 23:
For the Perfect Smile

MELODY AWOKE WITH A STRETCH AND a groan. It was a lovely morning, which was a rarity of late for her.

It was just about seven o’clock on September 23rd, and the sun was already high and shining.

“Seems I got some actual rest this time. I even fell asleep good and early. That’s just what I needed. But wait.”

I swear something happened while I was drifting off, she thought, but I can’t remember what.

It mustn’t have been very important then. Melody set it aside and readied herself for the day.

“Good morning, Melody.”

“My lady.”

Luciana arrived at eight or so, dressed in her uniform. After a quick greeting to Micah and Rook, they got down to business.

“As we discussed yesterday, in light of recent events, we’ll be relocating you until your health recovers,” Luciana said. “Now, let’s make this quick. Have you finished packing?”

“It’s all in the trunk. Is there anything else I’m forgetting?”

“Do you have a hood of some sort?”

“It can be arranged with Ricucitura.”

“See that you’re wearing it when we leave. You don’t look sick at all, and we can’t have people noticing that.”

“Very true. Understood.” Melody wove a mantle for herself and donned it.

Rook scooped her into his arms, while Micah grabbed her trunk. Luciana took the lead, stopping to greet Marissa.

“Madam, Cecilia’s things are in order, so we’ll be moving her to my room for the time being.”

“That’s for the best,” the supervisor said. “Easier to see to her in her poor state. Take care of her.”

Rook carried her to the carriage and placed her inside, and then they were off. With the window curtain drawn, Melody was at last free to drop the comatose act.

“I’m a little sad I couldn’t say goodbye to Madam Marissa,” she said.

Luciana quickly reprimanded her for her self-flagellating sense of propriety.

They arrived at the Upper Hall, where Rook once again hefted Melody into his arms. They trudged to Luciana’s room on the second floor, and finally Melody was free.

“Teattrice—release.” In a blur of white, Cecilia became Melody once more. “Now, this comes much more naturally to me.”

“Agreed. It felt empty around here without you.”

“Your words are too kind, my lady. So, you wanted to visit the forest I frequent, yes? For what purpose, might I ask?”

On paper, Luciana would be taking a hiatus from school to care for Cecilia. In reality, however, she’d be visiting Melody’s woods. She grinned giddily. “To whoop every single critter’s butt that we come across.”

“Excuse me?!”

“And I’m gonna keep doing it until you understand I don’t need protecting. Now, to the woods! Open up that door!”

Melody whimpered. “Okay, but we’re coming straight back if things get dangerous. Seeing as you’ll be joining, Benvenuti Porta.”

A grand set of double doors emerged from Luciana’s living room floor. They swung open, an ocean of green spreading out on the other side.

“The sooner you get the message, Melody, the sooner we can come back.”

“My lady, please be careful,” Micah said.

“We’ll have Melody’s quarters ready,” said Rook. “Good luck?”

“Thank you. I think.” Melody was not very inspired by their send-offs.

Thus, she and Luciana stepped into that notorious woodland, Melody’s “usual” one—the Great Vanargand Wood.

“This is where you get all our meat, huh?”

“My lady, do you genuinely intend to make this a hunting trip?”

“I’m not hunting, per se. Just fighting whatever wants trouble.” Luciana took out her fan and, with a bit of mana and a snap of her wrist, unfolded it. It instantly transformed into the torturous yet harmless Holy Harisen. “I came armed. I may not be able to take home any heads for the mantle, but I can definitely send them flying.”

“The fauna that prowl here are large and ferocious. Some can even cast spells. Please do be careful, my lady.”

She calls monsters “fauna,” Luciana noted. If your fauna’s slinging spells, you have, by definition, monsters on your hands. But she probably doesn’t know that since basically everything is harmless to her. It’s not like they cover that sort of taxonomy in class either.

“Exactly,” Luciana said. “If I can hold my own against beasts like these, then I should be just fine no matter what manages to get into the academy, right?”

“Yes, in theory, but what if monsters bearing dark mana appear again? That’s a different matter entirely, and precisely why I’m with you.”

“Monsters like that are vulnerable to silver weapons. We’re not totally powerless in that case, to say nothing of the defensive magic you cast on me.”

“Please, my lady, do not over-rely on such things. Their effectiveness is limited and may protect you from one or two blows, but I would not bet your safety on those spells.”

There it is. The Spring Ball’s still keeping her from trusting her abilities. Luciana smirked. These monsters aren’t the only things about to get thwacked. I’ll blow away all those insecurities of hers! Better run and hide, all you beasts of the Wood, because Luciana’s here, and she’s got a harisen!

“Off we go, Melody! Prepare to be thwacked and amazed!”

Proudly, Luciana marched onward.

“Hyah!”

Luciana lashed out as a monster appeared. Down went the tyrant murderbear, a massive and aptly-named ursine creature.

“Raaagh!”

Another monster leaped at them, and Luciana attacked with her harisen. Away flew the bighorn boar, a massive and aptly-named hog creature.

“They, um, aren’t putting up much of a fight, are they?” Melody said.

They’d been in the forest for two hours, and Luciana’s reign of paper terror had already left five victims in its wake. The Holy Harisen, in all its tortuously harmless glory, was Melody’s creation and designed to leave not a scratch on those it struck, but it packed a punch and, at times, a whole lot of pain. What it lacked in lethality, it more than made up for in ability to punctuate a point or quip in need of emphasis. Indeed, the skilled comedian took its impact as the cue for a well-timed pratfall, a principle evidently not lost even on beasts.

That was to say, the Holy Harisen was harmless but not incapable of swiping away the likes of bears and boars. The shock of the force coupled with the pain was enough to knock any potential danger unconscious and neutralize the threat entirely. Mysteriously, not even the objects they collided with upon being blown away seemed to hurt the creatures. Truly, it was the perfect deliverer of punishment.

“With this, I can be as violent as I want and still not hurt a hair on anybody’s head. They go flying, nobody dies, I’m completely inculpable!” Luciana giggled. “It’s great!”

“My lady, please don’t ever say that again.”

It was nearly evening now, the sky burning orange.

“My lady, night is coming on, and then the forest will only become more dangerous. Shouldn’t we be off?”

“Well? What did you think? Not a scratch on me, is there?”

“No, there isn’t. Frankly, I’m surprised. I didn’t anticipate that you would hold your own so well.”

“Thank you kindly. Maybe now you understand what should have been clear the last time we were attacked. I handled myself just fine, I thought.”

“Yes, I…I suppose you did. I don’t know how it never occurred to me before.” The incident at the Spring Ball had narrowed Melody’s vision, making it hard for her to see what was right in front of her.

That’s why I have to make the truth impossible to ignore! Luciana thought.

“We really should be going, my lady. We mustn’t be caught here in the darkness.”

“Not yet. We need to wait.”

Melody grimaced. “As you wish. Lamplight—Luce.”

The sun fell. Night cloaked the forest like a curtain, and darkness rushed in, fast on its heels. Only Melody’s spell illuminated the path, a miniature star bobbing before them, their only salvation and hope in this endless void.

Luciana eyed their surroundings closely, particularly the lightless pits her spell couldn’t reach.

“What exactly are we waiting on, my lady?”

“We’re not anymore.”

“What?” Melody was not a woodsman by any means, but she’d traversed this area enough to know when something was wrong. And something was very wrong right now. “Are you saying we’re surrounded?”

Quadrupeds, she sensed. Soft footsteps. Padded. Paws? Impressive deductions, but those were the limit of her abilities.

“My lady, I’ll cast more lights. One mom—”

“Don’t bother. Eyes forward, Melody. They’re coming.”

A creature thick with shadowy fur emerged from the darkness, a predator prowling out of the abyss. They recognized it at once. It had only been a few short weeks since they’d last encountered its ilk.

“Stalker wolves?” Melody said. “But Lect said they inhabit the Great Vanargand Wood. What are they doing here?!”

So close, Luciana thought. So close. It’s a good thing you’re so darn cute, Melody.

“My lady, I’ll—”

“You’ll sit back and watch,” the lady said.

“But where there’s one stalker wolf, there’s certainly more!”

“I’m aware. How does its mana look?”

Melody focused her own mana in her eyes and scanned the beast. “Normal. No dark mana. The same goes for the rest of the pack.”

“Just what I wanted to hear.”

“My lady, you can’t.”

Luciana did not balk at the trembling in Melody’s voice. She simply stood in front of the maid and spoke into the darkness. “I can. The strength you’ve given me is threefold. I’m invincible, Melody.”

“Threefold?”

“The first is this: my handy Holy Harisen. With it, I’m all-powerful. The second is all those dance steps you’ve taught me!”

Luciana darted toward the visible stalker wolf. Ever since her battle with Garmr, she was lithe as the protagonist of a shonen manga. It truly was stark, the difference that single encounter had made in her. The wolf had not marked this prey as particularly formidable, and for that mistake it would pay dearly.

“An ambush hunter being ambushed? You should be ashamed! Now, grovel!” Luciana appeared before the wolf almost instantaneously and brought her harisen down on its head. The beast was sandwiched between that crushing force and the ground beneath it. It convulsed and foamed at the mouth, incapacitated, though unharmed, of course.

“My lady!”

Luciana whipped around. While she was busy with the vanguard, the rest of the pack was bounding toward Melody. These wolves employed the same strategy used by the beasts that had attacked Celedia, a tried-and-true hunting method.

I have to fight! Melody thought. But my lady said…

This was about proving herself. Luciana had instructed Melody to stay back and let her do the fighting, an order that made Melody hesitate. A fatal mistake when one was prey. The four remaining stalker wolves salivated, assured that tonight’s dinner would be tender meat.

Oh, how wrong they were.

You think I didn’t do my research after your kin tried to kill me? Luciana taunted silently. She was too far away to make it back to Melody, but she wound up anyway, as if preparing a backhand. The Holy Harisen is a harmless implement, perfect for putting nuisances and fools in their places. And more.

“Who said it was just for hitting living things? Have a bit of wind! Air Thwack!” Luciana swung her harisen toward Melody and the pack like a samurai unsheathing his blade.

A great wave of displaced air rushed toward them, scattering the wolves quite literally to the wind. How was this physically possible? The Holy Harisen had only one purpose: to blow away anything in need of correction. It accomplished this admirably and without exception. Even if the subject happened to be a mass of air, it would be beautifully launched like a jet from a water gun.

The stalker wolves, caught in mid-leap, got quite a taste of that power and flew away howling. Some rode the fierce gale before plummeting to the ground. Others arrived at their destinations early, smacking into tree trunks. All were felled, and none rose again.

Melody had only one word for this display. “What?”

“Are you okay?”

“Y-yes, my lady. I’m fine. I must say, you’ve certainly mastered that tool. I wasn’t even aware it could do that.”

“Well…” Luciana explained the logic behind what had just transpired.

“So the Holy Harisen is capable of attacking from range?”

“Take a look at our assailants. There’s more.”

Melody guided the light to the wolves littering the ground. To her astonishment, several bore wounds, including legs twisted at awkward angles.

“But how? The Holy Harisen is torturous yet harmless.”

“Because the only thing I thwacked was the air. They were collateral damage, not my actual target.”

“Goodness!” Melody could scarcely believe it. Her harmless creation could actually damage opponents thanks to a loophole. “But wait, that doesn’t necessarily have to be long range. You could theoretically ‘attack’ the air between you and a nearby melee combatant, no?”

“Point-blank thwack!” Luciana giggled. “That’s gotta hurt. I have to hand it to you, Melody. The Holy Harisen is the perfect weapon! Harmless or torturous! This is great!”

“Let’s not forget that a proper lady is a gentle lady, hm?!”

“Never fret. Luciana Rudleberg the Fancy’s violent tendencies are reserved for scoundrels and enemies alone.” Her smile did not reassure Melody in the slightest. “Anyway, clearly I can defend myself pretty well, can’t I?”

“Far better than ‘pretty well.’ Against my better judgment, I must admit you’ve made your point in regards to the redundancy of a personal guard, my misgivings about a lady conducting herself in such a way aside. Incidentally, my lady, you said the strength I had given you was threefold.”

“That I did.”

“The first is the Holy Harisen. The second is grace. What is the third?”

“The third? Oh, that’s—”

It happened in the blink of an eye. A stalker wolf lunged at Luciana from behind, right in Melody’s blind spot, fangs bared and glistening.

“My—” Melody started. Too late.

I won’t make it!

Sensing something amiss, Luciana whirled at the last second. She instinctively raised her arm in defense, and the wolf’s jaws clamped tightly around it. Melody could do nothing to stop it. There was simply no way she could react in time.

The stalker wolves had won this game of tactics. There hadn’t been five, but six. The last lain in wait as a contingency. It almost seemed to sneer now that its time had come. If it leveraged the full force of its jaws and tore the limb off, it could enjoy a supple snack. The loss of its pack didn’t faze the monster. There would be more.

Foolish, simple-minded humans. So weak. So fleshy. This one had put up a fight, but she would bleed all the same. Even as the wolf reveled in its cunning, it sensed something amiss. There was no blood. Its fangs had not even pierced its prey’s arm.

“This’ll make a convenient demonstration,” she said. “This is the third reason I have nothing to fear. The ultimate shield—your magic, Melody.”

The wolf realized too late that its fangs had not even made it past Luciana’s clothing. She might as well have been wearing tempered steel.

“Did you think those nasty things would be enough to break my Melody’s charms? Know your place!” Luciana said as she raised her harisen.

Those were the last words the beast heard before succumbing to comedic justice. It couldn’t so much as whimper as it flew through the air. Luciana had attacked it directly, sparing its life, though it would doubtless have a few bumps and bruises come morning.

She brushed off her arm before displaying it for Melody. “See? The defense spells you maintain on my uniform are indestructible! Please trust in them. You keep me plenty safe just like this.”

Melody blinked. Luciana’s arm was utterly unscathed.

“I told you. You make me invincible,” Luciana laughed. “Your lessons already made me untouchable, but your magic’s the cherry on top. Nothing gets through. Paired with my Holy Harisen, well, you heard me. I’m invincible!”

Indeed, the bravado might not have been much of an exaggeration this time. Melody still said nothing, however, too awestruck for speech.

Luciana lowered her head and looked up at Melody from under her lashes. Her maid’s silence was making her bashful.

“So, um, what I mean to say is, I don’t want you to keep doing this to yourself. I’ll be fine. I miss my Melody, and I want her back. If you, er, are okay with—huh?!”

Tears streaked down the maid’s face. Luciana panicked.

I’m a maid, Melody thought. Not a guard. A maid. Maids don’t protect their mistresses. They certainly can, but that’s not what I’m meant to do. I’m meant to simply be there, to be by her side, to support her in all things.

“A-are you hurt? Was it something I said?” Luciana sputtered.

“No. Nothing of the sort,” the maid said. “Would you have me, my lady? Even still?”

“Do you even have to ask? I like Cecilia, don’t get me wrong, but I want Melody. I want my all-works maid back. I want to see you smile again, like I know you can!”

“I’m at your service, my lady!”

Melody smiled. Even as tears tracked down her cheeks, leaving her eyes red and swollen, Melody smiled. And oh how perfect it must have been. Luciana knew. Only Luciana. And she was of a mind to carry that secret to her grave.

Micah heaved a sigh of relief. “I’m glad things worked out, but how exactly does Melody intend to drop out of the academy?”

“The caretaker at the infirmary said she might have come down with mana sickness, so she’s going to be tested,” Luciana said. “All we have to do is confirm her suspicions.”

“Then she’d have reason to leave the capital entirely!”

“The only problem is how we’re going to trick the equipment.”

“Is there a way we can maybe learn more about how it works?”

Micah and Luciana racked their brains.

Meanwhile, Rook’s mind wandered elsewhere. “We’ll have to trick their eyes first, won’t we?”

Realization struck the girls all at once, but it hit Melody especially hard, right in her vibrant, healthy face. Sickness? None here. No, sir.

“Gateway—Ovunque Porta! Paula, teach me how to do makeup so I look sick!”

“Melody?! Good lord, I thought you were bedridden!”

“Who told you that?!”

One matter resolved, another born.

Chapter 24:
Casting Call for Lady Cecilia

“I’M SORRY, LORD LEGINBARTH, BUT I CANNOT permit entry, even for you. Men are not allowed in the women’s Upper Hall dormitory. Period.”

He grunted. “I thought as much.”

On the afternoon of September 24th, two days after Cecilia’s incident, Cloud Leginbarth, having heard the news, came to pay the girl a visit. The obstacle in his path was not unforeseen, however, and so his trip would have to end here at the dorm’s entrance, which was as far as men could venture into the women’s hall. Luciana had flatly refused his request.

And yes, the “no men” rule was contradictory since male servants were, in fact, allowed. Granted, they used particular entrances and corridors that ensured the only student a valet or butler might happen upon would be his mistress. The main entrance was reserved for students, female attendants, or male servants joining them. If they wanted to enter or exit on their own, they would have to make use of the aforementioned special entrance or face harsh punishment. Out of necessity, Rook was quite familiar with the peculiarities of the rules.

All that to say, not even the esteemed Lord Leginbarth would earn himself an exception.

“Might I know how she fares, at least?” he implored Luciana.

“She suffers from lethargy and dizzy spells. The infirmary’s caretaker suspects mana sickness.”

“Mana sickness? Say it isn’t so.” If it were, then forget Royal Academy. Cecilia wouldn’t be able to stay in the capital at all.

All her hard work to be admitted. All for naught! Lord Leginbarth lamented, massaging his wrinkled brow. There truly was no god in this world.

“They’ll be testing her in the infirmary tomorrow, Your Lordship. I can’t allow you into the hall, but if you like, you’re welcome to attend her diagnosis.”

“Yes! I will. I’ll be there.”

“I’m told they’ll be using special magical items for the procedure, and I’m admittedly a little nervous for her. What exactly does it entail? Do you happen to know, Your Lordship?”

“I do. You see…” Cloud had a detailed explanation waiting and ready, one likely meant for Cecilia’s ears.

Mana was present in all people, always circulating through the body in a regular pattern. The cessation of, or a malfunction in, this process, typically on a body-wide scale, caused mana sickness and led to the tell-tale symptoms of fatigue and vertigo.

“The equipment reads the flow of mana to provide a diagnosis,” he explained.

Luciana brought this information back to her room, where she shared it with Melody, Micah, Rook, and even Lect and Paula. The latter two got involved when Melody “approached” Paula about disguising her health with makeup. Melody had worried Paula might have been out that night, given the hour, but luckily, she’d answered Melody’s frantic call. As had Lect, of course.

As for how they knew about Melody passing out, Lect explained that word had reached his lord, Cecilia’s sponsor, and he happened to be around when the count received the news. Needless to say, having her barge in last night had given him a shock, but he was happy to see her well.

“I’m glad you’re not sick,” Paula said upon hearing the story that night. “But you went through all that trouble to enroll, and now you want my help getting out? No, I’m not refusing. It sounds fun, so how could I refuse?” It also offered a new way for her to strut her makeup skills, a new challenge. Cecilia couldn’t very well show up to her appointment looking just fine.

“So, His Lordship’s given us a little to work with,” Luciana said, back in the present. “Not Sir Gutless, notably, who could have saved us a lot of grief if he already knew all this.”

“My apologies. I’m an expert in neither medicine nor magical artificing. And please stop calling me Sir Gutless.”

“In any case, we now know how they conduct the test, and now it’s up to how well I can fool the equipment,” Melody said.

“Can you?” Micah asked.

The maid smiled at her. “Don’t you worry. I’m not so good at detecting other people’s mana, but controlling my own? That’s my specialty. I’m confident I can make it work.”

“And even if it doesn’t, we can always brainstorm other means,” the valet mumbled.

“Encouragement? From Rook? Why, thank you.”

“Just saying.” He looked away, but no one could tell if that look on his stoic face was embarrassment.

Once they’d exhausted themselves poring over every detail, Luciana addressed the room. “Let’s talk about our roles on the day of the test: I’ll be sticking close to Cecilia. Rook, you’ll carry her. Micah, stay behind to watch the room. Paula is on makeup duty. Sir Lect the Gutless can sit on his hands. Adjourned!”

“Objection!” the little maid blurted. “It gets lonely in here by myself.”

“I’ll manage,” said Lect, “but I don’t like the idea of being the only one doing nothing.”

“That’s the way it is. It’s not a conspiracy or anything,” Luciana said flatly. “You’ll play your part after Melody safely comes down with mana sickness.”

“There’s more after?” Micah asked.

“Of course there is. If Cecilia has mana sickness, then she can’t stay in the capital, can she? She’ll have to leave to recover. Who do you think is going to see her safely off to her destination?”

“Right. Left to his own devices, my lord’s sure to take on the responsibility himself,” Lect said, understanding at once. “We’ll have to assign her a chaperone ourselves.”

“Exactly. Remember, Cecilia doesn’t exist. If a third party runs off with her, there’s a chance we’ll be found out. We have to make the first move.”

“And how do we do that?” asked Rook.

Luciana took in the anxious faces arrayed around her. “House Rudleberg will decide Cecilia’s destination and escort. My father will have to pen a letter to Lord Leginbarth.”

“Will he accept?” Lect wondered.

“I’ll have to discuss the details with my father first, but I’m sure we can manage. Rumors will swirl around His Lordship if he isn’t careful.”

“Rumors?” Melody said. “What kinds of rumors?”

Luciana made a face. “This will sound rude, but in my opinion, Lord Leginbarth is overstepping his bounds when it comes to the attention he lavishes on Cecilia. He tried to come to the women’s hall just to see her. It’s well past time someone starts questioning what a grown man wants with a girl a third of his age.”

“You’re vastly underestimating His Lordship’s character, my lady,” Melody said.

“Tell that to the rumormongers once the mill starts turning. Doubtless he recognizes the way his actions have come across, and even if there are no rumors now, I’m certain he’ll withdraw once we explain the risks to him. That’s where you come in, Sir Gutless.”

“Me?”

“Even after he accepts my father’s terms, I have every confidence he’ll try to meddle. He did it during the enrollment process, and he did it today when he tried to visit. He’ll shrewdly deduce which accommodations we’ll struggle to provide—namely, security. I want you to volunteer for escorting Cecilia.”

“You make a good point,” Lect said. “Very well. I’ll do so.”

“Her destination will be our territory. It’s a small county but quiet, free of blightlands, and fairly suitable, a nice place to recover from mana sickness. Ideally, seeing as Cecilia’s hometown in the Avarenton March doesn’t really exist, we can justify it because it’s closer and a more controlled environment. Otherwise, Micah and Rook are in for a long trip.”

“Me?! Is that what my job is after the test?” Micah asked.

“Lord Leginbarth might show up when she leaves the capital. We need to make it look convincing.”

“I suppose we’re the only ones who can do it. Oh, all right.”

“So it will be me, Micah, Melody as Cecilia, and Lectias leaving for the County of Rudleberg,” Rook summarized.

“You can use Melody’s magic to send her back once the coast is clear,” Luciana said. “I want her back with me at the academy as soon as possible, after all. I’ll leave it up to your discretion.”

“Understood.”

“I’m sorry, everyone,” Melody said. “I’m causing so much trouble for you all, but thank you.”

The plan was set. Luciana roused the team with one final cheer. “Tomorrow’s the big day! Let’s pull this off!”

Luciana entered the infirmary, followed by a male servant carrying Cecilia. Her complexion was no better than when she’d passed out three days ago.

The nurse helped lower her onto a bed. “Good morning, Madam McMarden. How do you feel?”

“Good…morning. Dazed.” Melody pried her eyes slightly open but couldn’t focus on anything in particular, as if even that meager act were a struggle.

“I see. We’ll begin the examination shortly. Just relax.”

“Thank…you.” Tenderly, her eyelids fell shut.

Good lord, Melody, you could be an actress! Beneath Luciana’s meek expression, she couldn’t help but be impressed.

While they waited, another visitor arrived: Count Cloud Leginbarth.

He approached the bed, gasping when he saw Melody. “Madam Cecilia…”

“Your…Lordship?” Melody, master thespian, pretended to stir upon hearing the count’s voice. Her character: a tragic heroine beaten down by fate. Every word dripped with the appropriate innocence. “I’m sorry… After everything you…did for me.”

“No. Don’t apologize. None of this is your fault. Let us wait for the results before jumping to conclusions.” Cloud spoke to the girl as if she were his own, softly reassuring. He smiled in the same way.

I’m so sorry, Your Lordship! Melody wailed to herself. I wish I didn’t have to lie to you!

Ah, the struggling artist. Her inner self broke into a cold sweat, but not on account of the lie that actually mattered, the one about how she was, in fact, the count’s real daughter. Not that she knew that.

“We’re ready,” the clinician said.

The magic item was a crystal ball with little particles twinkling in its depths. The movement of the particles would mirror the flow of mana in the patient. Healthy flow would be circular, while abnormal flow would be irregular and erratic. The clinician affixed tubes from the sphere to each of Melody’s extremities and began the exam.

What Melody lacked in ability to detect mana in others she made up for with great talent in controlling her own. From the day she’d awoken to the mighty powers of the Saint, she wielded the magic masterfully. As long as it was in her own body, she could sense the changes, so when the device sent mana coursing through her, she felt it at once, and far more acutely than her own mana, since it was a foreign entity. From the exogenous currents, she learned that the device probed only surface deep and used the flow of mana there to simulate the motion of everything beneath, the results of which ultimately decided the diagnosis.

So all I have to do to fool it is move my surface-level mana like so.

“M-my goodness.” The nurse’s eyes widened, darting between the ball and Cecilia. The particles betrayed no order whatsoever. This case was severe. “I’m afraid that Cecilia McMarden has indeed developed mana sickness.”

Those present lowered their heads and held their silence.

Cloud ground his teeth until he could finally manage to say, “Your health takes priority, Madam Cecilia. You should leave Royal Academy for the time being.”

I’m so sorry, Your Lordship.

Cloud brushed the supposedly sleeping girl’s hair as gently, indeed, as if she were his own. Then he departed to inform the headmaster.

So Cecilia’s Royal Academy career met an unceremonious end.

Chapter 25:
Goodbye Cecilia, Hello Melody

SEPTEMBER 27TH WASN’T A SCHOOL DAY. A carriage sat parked in front of the Rudleberg estate, and a handsome, purple-haired man by the name of Rook rested on the box. Beside him, the knightly countenance of one Sir Lectias Froude was perched atop a horse. Micah, joining as an impromptu caretaker, sat beside the sickly girl at the center of this commotion—Cecilia. Today was the day she left for the Rudlebergs’ demesne to recover from her illness.

Negotiations had proven successful, so all the appropriate actors had assembled to play their respective roles. As expected, Hughes’s appeals for Cloud to take a step back had been met with reluctance, but a bit of counsel regarding burgeoning rumors and his purported feelings for the young girl quickly quieted the count’s protests. The prospect seemed to disgust him, frankly. The matter of security, too, proceeded exactly as Luciana had predicted, with Lect volunteering to fill the vacancy. All went as planned.

When it came time to leave, Melody played her part well and shared painful goodbyes with everyone. Poking her head out of the window, she donned a strained smile for Cloud. “Thank you for seeing me off, my lord.”

“I never doubted your gratitude, Madam Cecilia. Please, sit and rest.”

“When I’m better, my lord, I will return. And I’ll…”

“I know. That’s very kind of you to say, but you’ll have to recover first. I’ll be here when you do.”

“Right. One day.”

“One day.”

They smiled at each other, Melody’s expression forced and awkward, Cloud’s genuinely tearful. Then the carriage set off.

“Rest assured, Your Lordship, my brother who administers the county in my place will treat her well,” Hughes said. “I’ve already instructed him by letter to care for her.”

“Good. Very good, Lord Rudleberg.”

Cloud kept watching long after the carriage carrying Cecilia vanished down the road.

“Are you sure you should have made that promise, Miss Melody?”

The frail and gasping Cecilia shed her sickness in an instant and now sat upright next to a window obscured by curtains. “It would be terrible of me to leave things at that after all he’s done for me. There’s no risk or harm in ‘coming back’ on occasion under the pretense that my health has improved.”

“You have attended balls. A few days’ visit isn’t out of the question, I suppose.”

I truly regret it had to end this way, even if it was inevitable, Melody thought. There must be some way I can repay His Lordship’s patronage.

A ways down the highway, they came to a quiet place free of passersby. Once Lect and Rook gave the all-clear, Melody (back to her default self) and Micah alighted.

“Thank you for your help, Lect,” Melody said.

“I told myself I would support you from the moment you resolved to become Cecilia. I won’t break that promise, even now that you’ve decided to retire her.” He grinned sincerely.

“I’m sorry, but thank you.”

“So, this is where we split?” asked Rook.

Melody nodded. “Yes, I’ll be returning to the estate and joining my lady on her way back to the academy. You’ll all be finishing the journey, is that right?”

“It would be unwise of me to incur my lord’s wrath by returning early when I’ve been tasked with Cecilia’s safety,” Lect said.

“I’ve a letter for Lord Hubert from His Lordship,” Rook said. “Besides, Lord Hubert’s scheduled to visit to discuss the fallen estate soon anyway, so I’ll be bringing him back with us.”

“That’s a ten-day journey round trip, plus three or five days to get affairs in order,” Melody calculated. “Fifteen days in all.”

“Just about.”

“Too long!” Micah protested.

“But it’s no longer than our last trip,” Melody pointed out.

“Well, this time we won’t have you! And that means our standard of living just plummeted! I am not looking forward to roughing it without our cottage.”

During summer recess, on their way to Luciana’s childhood home, Melody had constructed an impromptu cabin. Without it, the travelers would have to either camp or stay at inns.

“I’m sorry, but only I can access it.”

“I know that, which brings me to my genius idea! In five days, you simply whisk us away to the county. We can work at the capital estate like normal until then.”

Melody blinked. It was a rather genius idea. She asked the men what they thought, and in roundabout, masculine turns of phrase, they implied that yes, they would vastly prefer to spend their travel time doing anything but traveling.

So it was that everyone returned to the estate together.

“Sorry to spring this on you, Serena.”

“It’s no trouble at all, Gentlesister. Although, I’ve never been to the county myself, so they’ll need you to open the way when the time comes.”

“Of course.”

“Melody!” Luciana called. “It’s time to go!”

“Coming, my lady! Well, I’m off.”

“Yes, Gentlesister.”

With a parting smile, Melody trotted toward the carriage carrying her lady. Serena looked on, admiring the vibrancy in her step, when suddenly her mind went completely blank. Her eyes dropped to the ground, but only for a moment. When she looked back up, her gaze shimmered like two lapis lazuli gems brimming with love.

Melody turned to wave one last time as she reached the carriage. “Be back soon!”

“Safe travels!” the doll called back. She waved daintily as the carriage rolled away. “Safe travels, my sweet Celesty.”

The carriage vanished. The doll dropped her hand, her eyes falling again before she twitched and lifted her gaze.

“Oh? Where did Gentlesister get off to?”

“Now that Micah and Rook are gone, it’ll be just you and me for a little while. Think you can handle that?”

“You needn’t ask, my lady.”

Melody—not Cecilia, but Melody the maid—set foot once again on Royal Academy grounds. She knew her path. She would not stray this time.

As she was re-familiarizing herself with her lady’s room, a bell chimed to announce a guest.

“On a day off? Who could that be? Sasha? Perhaps Lady Luna has business with my lady… Yes? How can I help…”

“Um, is Lady Luciana in? I’m a classmate of hers, Carol Misweed. I’d like to speak with her if she’s available.”

Carol? What is she doing here?

Cecilia’s neighbor in the dorm and in the classroom, Carol knew Cecilia well, but not Luciana. What business did she have with Luciana, then? It wasn’t for Melody to question. They had a guest, which meant it was time to serve.

Melody smiled and curtsied perfectly. “Our most humble welcome. I’ll inquire with her at once. One moment please.”

“Oh, um, sure.”

Carol was still trying to wrap her mind around it, even as the maid left to find her lady. She’d witnessed something unbelievable. Her artist’s eyes, ever in pursuit of the truth, had seen the answer she sought.

“How can this be?”

She’d yet to process it. Things had developed in ways she never could have imagined.

The maid returned shortly. “Thank you for waiting. My lady will see you. This way, please.”

Carol’s eyes were fixed on her back the whole way to the parlor.

“Hello, Misweed,” Luciana greeted.

“I’m, um, sorry for arriving without notice.” Though they were classmates, they were worlds apart in terms of status. Carol tensed.

“Don’t be! It’s a pleasure to have you.”

Luciana’s beaming smile only made Carol shrivel further. Agh, what am I doing?! Get it together!

But before she could broach the subject at the forefront of her mind, the maid reappeared. “Would you care for some tea?” She placed a cup before the girl.

“Oh, um…”

“Drink,” Luciana insisted. “You’ll never have a better cup than this, I assure you.”

“O-okay. Oh! You’re right. It’s delicious.”

“Isn’t it? The most delicious in the world, I say. Melody does it best.”

“So your name is Melody.”

“That’s right,” the maid replied. “Melody Wave, attendant to Lady Luciana, at your service. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Madam Carol.” Her curtsy was utterly perfect and charmingly beautiful.

“Pretty…” Carol breathed.

Luciana grinned giddily. “The prettiest. The prettiest maid in the whole dang world, I say.” Her chest puffed up with pride, and Carol stared.

“My lady, vocabulary.”

“She’s passed the test. Anyone who can appreciate my Melody is a friend. What do you say, Misweed? Oh, but that’s awfully stuffy. Can I call you Carol?”

“I…didn’t know you were like this,” the girl said.

“Only with friends, which is what we are from now on!”

“R-right.”

“Mind yourself, my lady. You’re confusing her,” Melody reprimanded.

“She’ll get used to it. So, Carol, are we in agreement?”

“I suppose?” she replied.

“Wait, you came for a reason, right? Melody, more tea.”

“I did, yes. Erm…”

Carol had indeed made the trip for a reason—because Luciana knew something she needed to know. But now she hesitated, unsure what she needed to do here. She’d forgotten what she was going to say. Her eyes darted around the room, searching for her scattered thoughts.

Then it hit her like divine providence. It came in the form of an elegant maid with lustrous black hair pouring tea for her lady. That was all. That was all she’d seen, and yet revelation struck her like a bolt from the blue.

Carol shot to her feet, clasping her hands over her mouth. A chill ran down her spine. She shuddered. Her eyes widened.

When the last drop of tea fell, sending ripples through the liquid and disturbing its calm surface, she knew. The scene before her was perfect. Colorful. Vibrant. Emotion emanated from the clinking of the tea set, the fragrance in the air, that singular drop. Carol knew at once what she needed.

“That’s it. That’s where the color was.”

“Carol? Carol?! Are you okay?!”

The girl collapsed back into her seat, her breathing ragged. She clutched at her chest, but not in distress. The pounding within was steady and comforting. After a moment, she stood again.

“Carol?” Luciana repeated.

“I need to draw. I must preserve this, this color, before I forget!”

Luciana and Melody jumped at the sudden spike in volume.

“I’m leaving!” Carol said.

“What about the thing you needed?!”

“Don’t need it anymore! I’m sorry, but I must hurry back and paint!”

“Paint what?! I’m so confused!”

Carol paced toward the door, undeterred. Melody watched her go in a daze, but just before leaving, Carol stopped and spun back toward her. “Try to stay corporeal, Melody. This is your palette. Don’t forget it.”

“M-my palette?” Melody looked down at herself. All she saw was black and white. Even her eyes and hair were dark. How could such a monochromatic ensemble elicit such a comment? Perhaps Carol saw something Melody did not.

Carol sprinted the whole way back to her dorm. “Mana sickness,” she scoffed. “She left. She left! So I go to hear the story from Lady Luciana, and who do I find?! And positively glowing! This is incredible! It’s amazing!”

But how will I portray it? Am I even good enough? she thought. Am I worthy of capturing such beauty, such pure, unadulterated love for life?!

Perhaps not. Perhaps not even by a long shot. Yet the desire to try burned within her, a longing born of that black-haired maid and the tea she served her blonde mistress.

I want to paint!

Carol returned to her room, took up the application form sitting forgotten on her desk, haphazardly scribbled on it, and flew back outside.

Epilogue

THE SAME DAY CECILIA DEPARTED FROM Royal Academy, the usual suspects gathered in Prince Christopher’s quarters.

“In like a whirlwind and out just as fast.” Christopher stared off into the distance.

“Just who was she?” Anna-Marie rested her cheek against her hand and sighed.

“I hardly said two words to the girl, so I’m of no help.” Maxwell sipped his tea, unbothered.

The topic of conversation was, of course, the enigma herself, the mystery girl who’d shown up, enrolled at Royal Academy, lasted two weeks, and vanished into thin air. Cecilia McMarden.

“Name, ability, character, bearing. She had it all. She could have been our Saint,” Christopher said. “Only to be done in by mana sickness.”

“She was an anomaly in every sense,” Anna-Marie said. “The gods giveth and the gods taketh away. But this does seem a bit cruel for even precocious immortals.”

“She’s to recuperate in the Rudlebergs’ demesne, yes?” asked Maxwell.

“It’s a quiet place free of blightlands, I’m told.”

“But she’s from the Avarenton March, isn’t she? Shouldn’t she be going back there?” Christopher said.

“She lived with her mother, who’s already passed. It seems she has no living relatives. Perhaps she has friends to rely on, but even so, a count can provide far better care.”

“Rumor has it they’ve paid off their old debts, I suppose. What with the count working at the Chancery now, they’re surely found a measure of financial stability. Madam Cecilia’s not likely to be a burden.”

“I’ve heard differently,” Maxwell said.

“Oh?” Anna-Marie said. “And what have you heard?”

“My father tells me they’ve recently suffered an…‘earthquake’ or some such in their county. Supposedly the earth shook with great force, destroying their estate.”

“Goodness! And what are the damages exactly?”

“Entirely material, for a mercy, though they’re struggling to find the coin to fund building a new manor.”

“That’s a miracle. Well, insofar as there was no loss of life. They truly are a cursed family when it comes to matters of money.”

“Where’s Madam Cecilia going to recuperate then?” Christopher asked.

“They’ve a smaller, temporary estate at the ready,” Maxwell replied. “They’re using it in the interim. It’s a bit cramped, though, and not at all fit to serve as a full replacement.”

“Such are the demands of aristocracy. Appearances and all that. If they were a few steps lower in the hierarchy, doubtless they would’ve never been called ‘Ignobles’ in the first place. Bit of an unimaginative epithet, that.”

“Being landed with a county of all things certainly places undue pressure upon them, especially considering there are a number of nobles among the peerage in situations far more dire.”

“We are a petty, jealousy-driven breed,” Anna-Marie agreed. She clapped her hands twice. “But we’re getting off topic.”

“So we’re certain, then, that Madam Cecilia isn’t the Saint?” Maxwell asked.

“Not certain. We can never be certain, but if being in the capital is fatal to her, that certainly lowers her chances considerably. We suffer constant bombardment by the Great Vanargand Wood’s manawaves, and given the Saint’s ultimate purpose, it stands to reason that she should have a measure of resistance to the Dark One’s mana.”

“Making Lady Celedia our next prime suspect?”

“Even she seems unlikely at this stage, but she’s all we have.”

“What about Lady Luciana?” Christopher said. “She’s stood where the Saint ought to have plenty of times before.”

“We can count nobody out while we’re missing so much vital information, but personally speaking, I think she’s a long shot.”

“Why is that?” Maxwell asked.

“Because I have a theory that she’s still the Jealous Witch.”

“How so? By your own telling, she’s nothing like how you dreamed her. Hardly the dour girl you described.”

Anna-Marie shook her head. “I think we’re seeing the good rendition of the Jealous Witch, a happy rendition, one who’s experienced none of the tragedy or strife of the bad Jealous Witch. She hasn’t dealt with the poverty, or the shame of missing the Spring Ball, or a father who’s turned to crime. She was never assimilated by the Dark One. It all might as well be a bad dream, and the girl who woke up in her place is a kind, virtuous girl who happens to be a tad possessive.”

“A Merrily Jealous Witch, as it were.” Maxwell grinned, remembering the smile she would grace him with on ball nights.

“Possessive is right,” said Christopher. “We saw glimpses of that with Madam Cecilia.”

“They were hardly apart for a single second, even during lunch,” Anna-Marie said.

“And when she was invited on that horse ride, Lady Luciana practically forced herself into the equation.”

“She looked awfully content clinging to Cecilia’s back, didn’t she?” Anna-Marie, too, grinned, remembering.

Maxwell perked up. “We’ve deviated again.”

“So we have. Though that’s mostly the fault of the critically low amount of information we have to work with.”

“Things would move a good deal faster if only we could find the right girl,” Christopher groaned.

“Would that there were a surefire way of identifying her,” Maxwell said.

“Our next big indicator comes at the end of October,” Anna-Marie said.

“The Festival Ball,” Christopher muttered.

“Indeed. Our visions say Bjork Quichel is due to make another appearance on behalf of the Dark One at that time, but…”

“The blade sealing it has been broken. The upper half is being held in the palace, but this is all different from what we foresaw. There’s no telling how things will play out. Still, that’s our next target date.”

“The Festival Ball is open for students of all years, so I ought to be of more help there,” Maxwell said.

“We’re counting on it, Max. Try not to bleed into the background like at the social.”

“I reiterate, that was your fault for failing to understand social etiquette when you insisted I join.”

On the meeting went, deviating and derailing at random. Not that there was any dire need for such a meeting while their jigsaw puzzle was still missing so many pieces.

On a balcony on the Upper Hall’s highest floor, the Rordpier princess gazed upon the city below. It was a lovely view. Shame that she wasn’t in the mood to enjoy it. Instead, she found herself counting carriages, wondering which one she might be in, remembering her smile.

Ciestine leaned against the railing and sighed. “Don’t think we’ve settled the score already, spoilsport.”

She’d lost the dance to her, then forfeited the top spot on the exam to her. In both instances, she’d given her all and been overwhelmingly trounced.

How I looked forward to proving my superiority to you one day, only for mana sickness of all things to steal you away from me. Their reunion was further away than ever now that merely existing in the capital harmed the girl. But she attended the Spring and Summer Balls, and her health seemed fine. Perhaps if the stay is short enough, I can expect her at the Winter Ball? Ciestine cut herself off from such self-consolation. It’s a good thing she left. Makes it all the easier for me to ingratiate myself and sow unrest throughout the kingdom.

Paltescia was ground zero for that plan. Were Cecilia to stay, she’d almost certainly get caught up in some plot or another. Ciestine didn’t want that for her.

Yes, she told herself. This is good. With her gone, I’ll surely steal the top spot in class. The gloves can come off now that Christopher is my only opponent.

The second semester had scarcely begun. She had all the time in the world to garner attention, and the first step would be the midterms. Followed by…

“The Festival Ball. I ought to get a head start on scheming.”

Ciestine sneered haughtily. Beneath her sprawled a city that knew no peace.

Celedia had returned to her home at the Leginbarth estate that day, as the academy was not in session. She was in a fantastic mood.

Sable regarded her with joy as she sauntered through the garden, giggling. I was worried that her first week had treated her harshly, but it seems her spirits have improved markedly. Excellent.

Little did he know the true source of Celedia’s mirth. That horrid Cecilia’s finally out of my hair! Oh, joyous day! I didn’t even have to sully my own hands to make it happen. Fortune truly smiles upon me!

Just as she’d thought to kill the girl herself and deal with the consequences, Cecilia had done her a great favor by falling ill all on her own. Celedia had indeed been ready to endure as many tears and feverish days as it took to be rid of that homewrecker, but fate had sided with her that day.

The gods themselves have decreed me the heroine! Or I’m sure they would if I believed in them.

Thus she meandered through the garden, excited about her prospects, until a messenger approached with word from her father.

“He wishes to have dinner together?”

“If it pleases you, my lady.”

“It does. I’ll look forward to it. Tell him so.”

“At once, my lady.”

The servant disappeared, and Celedia sneered. It’s essential that I repair my relationship with Father if I’m to be the heroine. He’s been so distant, but suddenly he wants to dine together? This is my chance. Oh, your leaving is the gift that just keeps on giving, Cecilia McMarden.

Sable regarded his lady’s swelling spirits with great joy indeed.

Count Cloud Leginbarth sat sullenly in his carriage on the way back from seeing Cecilia off. Why does it hurt so much? Why do I hate to part with her so?

The memory of her smile wouldn’t leave him. Though they had met only a handful of times—twice at both balls and several times during the enrollment process—the girl had his heart in a vice grip. And not in the way a woman he fancied might, not at all, yet he did find himself drawn to her, and supposedly it was earning him a reputation among his peers. He was thankful to Count Rudleberg for opening his eyes to that.

A man of my age, fawning over a young girl. A stranger no less. What am I thinking?

Cloud knew what he felt for the girl was innocent, but the moment he had to defend himself from accusations it would already be too late. He doubted whether even he would believe such claims were he in his accuser’s shoes.

My newfound objectivity reveals a new problem as well.

And it had to do with Selena’s parting gift: Celedia. His beloved had called her Celesty, but he deemed it unwise for her to keep her commoner name after joining high society, so he’d given her a new one.

I would have called her Cecilia, but I could hardly steal another’s name. Unfortunate timing.

It was a rather outlandish series of events, looking back on it. A complete stranger calling himself a knight suddenly appeared and whisked away a young girl for the sake of a man claiming to be her father. And then that “father” treated her coldly, bade her to abide by unfamiliar rules, and refused to so much as dine with her. Any girl in her position would have spent her first night in tears.

To simply provide was not enough. He could not merely exist and presume that to be sufficient for his own daughter.

And what am I to tell her then? That I doubted I could love her as a father ought to? Ridiculous.

Cloud had been all but certain his love for Selena would transfer directly to their daughter. Even now, that affection flowed within him like water, cascading like a great waterfall. He thought there would be more than enough to spare for his own child.

Yet I feel nothing. I’m an utter failure as a parent.

He’d kept Celedia at a distance, but Cecilia’s departure represented a chance for him to make changes. Make amends.

“I’d like to have dinner with Celedia tonight,” he told his butler. “Tell her so.”

“At once, my lord.”

Shortly after, he received her assent.

We’ve arrived at the starting line, he thought. Familial love can be nurtured.

He worked until night fell and dinnertime arrived. Then he and Celedia stood face-to-face in the hall.

“Thank you for the invitation, Father.”

“Of course. Please, sit.”

“Yes, Father.”

They sat across from one another and waited. And waited. Waited on food.

This crushing silence, Cloud bemoaned. Celedia simply smiled at him. I believe it’s my duty as a father to attempt conversation.

“So,” he began, “how has the academy been? Enjoyable, I hope.” A neutral question. Tried and true.

Celedia’s smile held far too much melancholy. “Princess Ciestine invited me on a horse ride, actually. I rode behind her.”

This pricked Cloud’s conscience, for he already knew about the ride. He’d provided a horse and sent Lect as a guardsman for Cecilia. He’d pried all the details out of the knight upon his return.

Good lord, the rock I would climb under if I could, he moaned inwardly. I’m absolutely aghast, in hindsight, that I had more interest in Cecilia than Celedia. He sent a silent thanks to Lect for putting up with him.

“But I wasn’t at all used to the swaying, I’m afraid, and got terribly nauseated,” Celedia continued.

“I see.”

Celedia went on, Cloud encouraging her to do so with intermittent responses.

This is fine for now. Awkward though it may be, these are the first steps. Slowly and steadily, I’ll learn to love her. Rest easy, Selena. I shall not disappoint you again.

Cloud sipped his wine, content with his humble progress. They continued to converse for some time, but this peace was fragile. It would soon shatter.

The count was mid-drink as the main course arrived. Oof. That’s enough, perhaps. I kept drinking to fill silences and lost track of just how much I was having. Ought to be more careful… Oh?

A servant set down a plate. A bright and succulent fruit that looked an awful lot like a cherry garnished his cut of meat. But this was no cherry—it was a plumle, infamous for its lip-puckering sourness. It brought to mind a particular phrase: “Where there’s sour, there’s power.”

He’d first heard that one day while visiting the servants’ dining hall. Selena was on break eating lunch, a single plumle left on her plate, which she forced herself to eat whole. She hated the things, but always put health before comfort.

“One mustn’t be picky when one’s diet is at stake!” she’d declare before the inevitable puckering.

Cloud treasured the fond memory, one from before they’d fallen in love. He chuckled at their long-lost innocence.

“What’s so funny?” Celedia asked.

“Oh, just this.” Cloud gestured to the plumle with his eyes. Celedia still looked confused, so he said, “When your mother worked here, she ate these just about every day.” Celedia was silent again. “You surely witnessed the same thing when you lived together, no?”

“O-oh! Yes! It was indeed a habit of hers.”

“I thought as much.”

Cloud speared a chunk of meat, then followed it with the plumle. An intense, almost bitter sourness filled his mouth, and his lips tried to pucker, but his manners were better than to let it show.

Poignant, he thought. How I wish your mantra had been right, Selena. If only you’d stayed healthy enough to see me again.

“Every day, she ate them,” Celedia continued. “I remember how she loved them dearly.”

Cloud chuckled. “You do, do…you?” His fork hand froze in midair.

She “loved” them? Did I mishear? No, Celedia said she “loved” them.

“What’s wrong, Father? Lost your appetite?”

“N-no. Well, maybe a little. Just ruing that such a fine meal would conclude with a plumle. I’m not fond of them either, frankly.”

“Sour isn’t a flavor profile you prefer? Interesting.”

“I clearly lack the fortitude your mother had.”

“You’d certainly need a strong taste for them to consume them as often as she did!”

There were no two ways about it. Celedia was claiming Selena ate plumles out of a love for them.

But the Selena I know ate them only because she believed them healthy, Cloud thought. Did she perhaps come to like them? Maybe she pretended for our daughter’s sake? Or is Celedia simply misremembering? That must be it. Perhaps it never came up in conversation and Celedia merely assumed from observation that they were a favorite of hers.

Despite his rationalizations, Cloud’s confidence had been irreversibly shaken. He reached for his wine glass, desperate for the relief the all-powerful ichor promised.

It would never reach his lips.

“Speaking of plumles, you’re familiar with Cecilia, yes?”

The count froze again. “What about her?”

“It’s the funniest thing.” Celedia covered her mouth and giggled. “Her late mother ate them rather often too. She despised them but claimed ‘where there’s sour, there’s power,’ or some such. Isn’t that silly, forcing yourself to eat something you hate?”

The glass slipped from Cloud’s fingers and shattered against the floor. Wine spattered the count’s pants.

“Oh my goodness!” Celedia exclaimed. “Father, are you all right? Father?”

Cloud registered neither the girl’s words nor her concerned gaze. He rose, rubbing his brow as if fighting off a headache.

“My apologies,” he said. “I was nervous about this and drank a little too much. I need to get changed, and then I think I’ll retire for the night. Continue eating as you please.”

“O-okay. Very well. Rest easy, Father.”

He did not answer. He hurried away, but not to retire to his bedroom. Rather, he veered toward his office. His pace quickened and his stride lengthened until he was nearly jogging. His breathing went ragged, but not because of any physical strain.

By the time he threw his office door open, tears streamed down his cheeks. The first thing he did was lock the door behind him. Next, he fished out the portrait of his beloved and propped it on his desk. The torrent spilled ceaselessly from his eyes.

“Why? Why, Selena?” he sobbed at the painting. He clutched his face, gripping too hard, as if enduring ferocious pain. “Damn it all, why? Why does her mother do as you do, speak as you do? Our daughter is Celedia, is she not? Is she not?! Why?!” His cries died in his throat as the fear of being overheard choked him.

Cecilia. Her hair. Her eyes. He couldn’t stop picturing her and all the things that didn’t evoke Selena in the slightest. And yet… Why?

Why do I see you in her, Selena?

Cecilia McMarden—who are you?

Bonus Story:
Deception Begins at the Heart

IMMEDIATELY FOLLOWING MELODY AND Luciana’s foray into the Great Vanargand Wood…

“You’re late! We were worried!” Micah cried.

“Sorry! We didn’t mean to tarry so long,” Luciana said.

“Our apologies, Micah,” said Melody. “Hello again, Rook.”

“Welcome back,” the valet replied. “Have you arrived at a consensus?”

Micah fixed her eyes on the maid, equally if not more curious.

Melody nodded with a smile. “Our lady has demonstrated that she requires no extra protection, so I will be returning to my maid duties. I’m sorry to have worried you all!” She bowed her head in apology.

Micah sighed, relieved. “Thank goodness. This work’s no fun if I don’t have you to measure up against.”

And this life’s no fun when I don’t get to watch everything the heroine does! she added. I’ve gotta see Miss Melody’s Academy arc close up!

Frivolous? Perhaps. But if Melody was a maid maniac, Micah was an otome game geek. The same could be said for Anna-Marie, incidentally.

“I’m glad things worked out, but how exactly does Melody intend to drop out of the academy?” Micah asked.

“Violence?” sincerely proposed Rook.

“It isn’t a jail break,” Melody said. But how was she going to slip out of this situation she’d gotten herself into? “I suppose I could always drop out?”

Micah frowned and crossed her arms. “After only two weeks? You’d be no better than a new hire quitting on the second day.”

“V-very true. That would be terribly rude to all the people who made my enrollment possible, not least of all Lord Leginbarth.”

“What we need is a scenario where you’re forced to leave. That’s the path of least resistance.”

“Violence would make that easy, I think,” Rook said.

“Why are you like this?!” Micah blurted. She stood as the final bulwark against his madness.

As they agonized among themselves, Luciana sat back, comparatively unbothered. “You’re all thinking too hard about this.”

“You have an idea?” Melody asked.

“I didn’t come up with it exactly, but the nurse at the infirmary gave us a pretty good excuse.”

“I’m sorry, but that part is still so fuzzy for me.”

“Mana sickness,” Luciana said matter-of-factly. “Remember Beatrice talking about her classmate having to withdraw because of it?”

“Ah, yes. Exogenous manawave hypersensitivity.”

“Exo-whatous hyper-whatitivity?” Micah hadn’t been at the social or the infirmary. This was all Greek to her.

“A condition that crops up when the local ambient mana makes you sick, basically,” Luciana explained. “Similar to anemia, it causes weakness, fatigue, dizziness—generally, it makes it hard to live.”

“That sounds a lot like what happened to Melody,” Rook muttered, remembering the sight of her in the infirmary bed.

Micah lit up. “I get it!”

Luciana nodded smugly. “The caretaker at the infirmary said she might have come down with mana sickness, so she’s going to be tested. All we have to do is confirm her suspicions.”

“Then she’d have reason to leave the capital entirely!”

Faking an illness. Luciana and Micah looked quite proud of themselves for that, but Melody glanced worriedly between them.

“With a diagnosis like that, no one would think twice about her withdrawing,” Luciana said. “Not even Lord Leginbarth would argue. What do you think, Melody?”

“I think, um…”

She thought. Did she have any other choice? I hate to deceive the academy and His Lordship after everything they’ve done for me, but I can’t stay enrolled if I want to keep being a maid. What else can I do?

Nothing, as far as she could see. Try though she might, she could concoct no scheme less morally questionable.

She sighed in surrender. “I hate to lie, but it does seem our best option.”

“The very existence of Cecilia McMarden makes you dishonest, Miss Melody. You crossed that bridge long ago.”

“Erk, right you are, Micah.”

She’d prettied it up with the pretense of ensuring her lady’s safety, but the very act of fabricating a whole human and enrolling in the academy via unvirtuous means was already ethically dubious. In a sense, Melody was simply reaping what she’d sown.

I’ll have time for regrets later, she thought. We have to focus on the matter at hand.

“The only problem is how we’re going to trick the equipment.” Luciana rested her chin on her hand as she pondered that quandary. “The caretaker said there’s some kind of magic item they need to conduct the diagnosis. Our best bet is to make it render the wrong verdict, if possible.”

“Do you know how it works, my lady?” Micah asked.

“Not in the least. Maybe we can learn more somehow?”

“Worst case scenario, we’ll have to rely on Miss Melody’s raw magical talent to improvise in the moment.”

“L-let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Melody pleaded.

The girls chittered and chattered about how they might trick the unknown device. Rook watched from a distance until finally speaking what had been on his mind all this time. “We’ll have to trick their eyes first, won’t we?”

Realization struck the girls all at once. Luciana and Micah looked straight at Melody’s vibrant, healthy face. Sickness? None here. No, sir.

“She doesn’t look sick at all!” Micah exclaimed.

“I completely forgot. She’s right as rain,” Luciana said.

“The hood solved the problem well enough when we moved her,” Rook said, “but she can’t take the test with that on.”

“O-oh gosh, oh no. My lady, what do we do?” Melody sputtered. “Wait! I’ve got it! Excuse me!”

“Excuse you?” Luciana parroted. “Where are you going?”

“Gateway—Ovunque Porta! Paula, teach me how to do makeup so I look sick!” A plain door appeared, and Melody disappeared through it in a fluster. “Paula? Are you there?”

That gateway led directly to the Froude estate, Lect’s home. It opened into the parlor. When Melody went through, she entered the hallway.

“Paula!” she said. “There you are.” It was already late, so it was good luck that she happened to be around. The Froude maid’s eyes widened into saucers. “I’m sorry for barging in. I haven’t even informed Lect, but it’s urgent. Paula? P-Paula?!”

Snapped out of her stupor, Paula threw her arms around her friend. “Melody?! Good lord, I thought you were bedridden!”

“Who told you that?!”

Paula patted and rubbed Melody’s back. Then another wild card entered the mix.

“Paula?” Lect said. “What are you still doing here? I thought you were leaving.”

“Master! I caught a Melody!” she cried.

“Excuse me?!”

“You too?!” blurted the maid as the knight darted toward her. She hadn’t expected these reactions. “H-how did you two know I’d fallen ill?” Melody—Cecilia, rather—had passed out only yesterday, and if word spread at all it made little sense that it would have spread to these two specifically.

“My lord heard what happened,” Lect explained. “He is your sponsor, after all. I happened to be present at the time and heard everything. It was pure chaos, the amount of appointments he rescheduled so he could come visit you tomorrow.”

“His Lordship is coming to visit me?! But I’m staying with my lady, ostensibly so she can take care of me. I highly doubt he would make it past the front door of the women’s Upper Hall.”

“‘Ostensibly?’ Then what’s really happening?” Paula asked incredulously. “You worried me half to death, you know.”

“I’m sorry. The truth is…” Melody revealed the whole sordid affair.

“What? So after all that hard work and trouble, you’re going to leave? And after only two weeks?”

“I am. And I’m terribly embarrassed and ashamed, but it seems the life of a maid is the only life for me.”

“Melody, you’re so maid-brained it’s terminal.”

“Oh, stop,” she giggled.

“That wasn’t a compliment!”

“I’m especially sorry to you, Lect. You put me in contact with Lord Lyzack, set everything in motion, and helped me so much along the way.”

“I will never begrudge any decision you’ve made in earnest, Melody,” Lect said. “In any case, miraculous recoveries aside, it’s still true your health has taken a tumble. Putting some distance between yourself and the source of the decline sounds wise to me.” He’d been against her attending the academy in the first place, and besides, her health was what mattered most.

“He’s right,” said Paula. “You have to remember to look out for number one sometimes. So go tell those brainiacs you’re through.”

“That’s actually what I need your help with,” Melody said.

“Oh, really?” Paula said. “State your request. I’m all ears.”

“Can you do my makeup to make me look sick?”

Paula blinked. It wasn’t the request she’d expected, but it sounded reasonable on second thought. Melody’s skin was far too flush and healthy for a sick person.

Suddenly, she found herself fascinated. Makeup not for the sake of beauty but for deception, to make one unsightly rather than eye-catching.

“Now that sounds fun,” she said. “Heh, my brush hand’s already itching!” She flashed a grin full of teeth. “I’ll make you into a walking corpse so convincing it’ll scare the pants off Lady Luciana and anyone else waiting for you back home!”

“D-do show some restraint, please.”

“This isn’t a game,” Lect admonished.

Paula giggled. “Oh, trust me. I know.”

Just like that, class was in session.

Those waiting back home in the Upper Hall were not amused.

“I can’t believe her,” Luciana said. “Up and leaving all on her own.”

“It’s already been an hour. She didn’t even say where she was going,” Micah said.

“She shouted something on the way out, but the door shut behind her, and I couldn’t pick up half of it.”

They stared at the empty space in the room where the gateway had previously stood and heaved simultaneous sighs. It seemed they’d be waiting for answers for some time yet.

Rook, ever the stoic, spoke up. “Would it not be more productive for us to prepare dinner for our lady?”

“Huh? Oh, right.”

“I completely forgot about eating,” Luciana said. “Now that you mention it, I am a little hungry.” Between Melody’s episode and the romp in the Wood, dinner had slipped her mind. Thanks to Rook, however, it returned to the fore.

“So sorry, my lady. I’ll get right on that!” Micah apologized.

“Thanks!”

Just as the little maid was on her way to the kitchen, the door reappeared in the living room.

“Miss Melody!” Micah said. “She’s back.”

“Good grief,” Luciana groaned. “Vanishing like that. Where did she even go?”

Dinner went out the window yet again as Luciana and Micah took their positions, ready to ambush Melody as soon as that door opened. It peeled back slowly, and Melody appeared.

“Melody?! Are you okay?!” Luciana said.

“M-my lady…” Melody tumbled lifelessly to the ground, barely catching herself on one knee. She tried to stand, but her complexion was deathly pale and her breathing ragged, just like yesterday.

“Miss Melody, what happened?! How did you get like this?!” Micah frantically asked.

“Melody!” Luciana caught her just as the strength left her arms and she toppled toward the ground. She hadn’t the vigor even to hold herself up anymore.

“My lady,” Melody gasped. “I’m so happy I got to look upon you…one last time.”

“What do you mean ‘last?!’ Don’t say that! Don’t you dare say that!”

“Miss Melody! Your magic! Use your magic! Heal yourself like you did before!”

“Ah, Micah,” she wheezed. “Watch over her…for me.”

And then she went limp in her lady’s arms.

“Melodyyy!”

“Miss Melody!”

No sooner had they been reunited than they said their final goodbyes. It was all so sudden. In their confusion, all Luciana and Micah could do was sob.

“It can’t be! How could this happen?! Why?!” Luciana cried.

“Miss Melody!” Micah shouted.

Their wails echoed harshly in Rook’s ears, but all he did was sign in irritation. “You forgot your hands and arms.”

“Oh. Oops.”

Luciana looked down to find a wide-awake and very much alive Melody in her arms. Micah joined her in her incredulity.

Melody examined her extremities. Rook had a point. “Paula!” she called. “We need to do my limbs.”

“Ah, of course. Silly mistake.”

“Paula!” Luciana shouted.

“And Sir Lectias?” Micah said.

An amused Paula and a guilty-looking Lect emerged from the gateway.

“Get a grip,” Rook lambasted. “If something happened to her, the door would have vanished.”

“Oh,” the girls said.

Melody rose from her lady’s arms and bowed. “My apologies for the fright, my lady, Micah. I simply couldn’t forego such a perfect opportunity to put Paula’s makeup to the test. Thank you kindly for your participation in this little charade.”

“I’m still irked that something so obvious gave it away,” Paula said. “I worked magic on your face, I thought.”

“The hands show age,” Rook said. “I should think they would show sickness as well.”

“Fair point. I’ve got to get practicing!”

Those two got on surprisingly well. Lect found it unexpectedly difficult to get a word of moderation in.

“You’re terrible! I was shedding actual tears!” Luciana fumed.

“Same!” seethed Micah. “That was not a funny joke! Not at all!”

“I-I’m sorry, but we can’t afford any mistakes when the day comes,” Melody said. “I’m really, truly sorry.”

Logically, she was right, but emotionally, the girls weren’t ready to admit that. They settled for moaning and pouting and stamping their feet in protest.

It was thanks to this little incident—Paula and Rook’s deliberations, Luciana and Micah’s humiliation—that Cecilia McMarden’s act was perfected. So it was that she was diagnosed with mana sickness, and nobody suspected a thing.

Lect alone was left decidedly jobless. Not exactly sure what I’m doing here.

Extra Story:
Luciana Moves In—Second Semester Edition

THE FIRST DAY OF THE SECOND SEMESTER AT Royal Academy kicked off on September 14th. Of the many carriages weaving through campus, one in particular pulled aside. A fair, golden-haired girl gracefully alighted from the coach, then faced the passengers who remained inside, smiled, and said, “Thank you for your company, my lady, and the honor of riding alongside you.”

It was Melody, of course, disguised with the help of her Teattrice spell.

“I’ll see you this afternoon, Cecilia. In homeroom,” Luciana replied, poking her head out of the small window.

There they parted ways, Melody making for the Common Hall by foot while Luciana and her retinue continued to the Upper Hall by carriage. Luciana had been dreading this all morning. She pouted.

“Think of the time and effort we’d be saving if they’d only let us room together.”

“Think of all the trouble there would be if they let Miss Melody, a commoner, into the Upper Hall, my lady,” Micah pointed out.

“I know that,” Luciana grumbled. “Also, Cecilia.”

The little maid’s hands flew to her mouth. “Right. Cecilia.”

It would have been an easy arrangement, tucking Melody away in her room, Luciana thought. But there were others to think about, namely the marquess’s daughter, Anna-Marie, and the imperial princess. Nearly every noblewoman sharing the living space had their sights set on those two, and should some lowborn commoner thwart their attempts at schmoozing, there’d be hell to pay. Maybe worse. In any case, some would not look kindly on a commoner’s presence in the dorms. Of that, Luciana was certain.

She thought back to last semester and the nasty affair her now-friend Luna Invidia had masterminded, the terrible things they’d accused her of. Luciana was not an esteemed count’s daughter, but she was a count’s daughter all the same, and even she’d suffered the sting of stratified society firsthand. She did not want to think how much worse it would be for a girl unprotected by any status whatsoever, especially a girl as pretty as Melody.

But there was one thing she feared more than even those unspeakable possibilities. The things I would do to those people… She gripped the folding fan in her skirt pocket. Luciana had absolutely zero confidence in her ability to control herself should any harm come to Melody.

“My lady, um, you’re glaring. It’s scaring me.”

“Oh, goodness me.” Luciana tohoho’d.

“That’s not helping! You’re still glaring!”

“Ahem. Sorry about that, Micah. You know how I get when it comes to cleansing the world of Melody’s enemies.”

“Excuse me?! How did we get to that?! Calm yourself, my lady!”

“Oh, I’m calm. Don’t you worry. Turmoil is the huntress’s weakness. I’m very calm.”

“Who teaches you these things?!”

The carriage was no quieter for Melody’s absence.

“Micah,” Rook grumbled, “please stop shouting.”

Some time later, Luciana and co. arrived at the Upper Hall. The streets were clear here, the carriages instead gathering at the dormitory’s front entrance. It hadn’t been a particularly long ride from the Common Hall—the latter being closest to the academy’s gates, followed by the Lower Hall, then the Upper Hall—but the distance was practical just as much as it was symbolic. Most commoners commuted to the dorms on foot, while nobles, who had more luggage, needed carriages. Were their dorms situated nearer to the gates, the traffic congestion would be unbearable.

Of course, this arrangement also meant a shorter commute for the infamously sedentary upper class. But as far as the tactful academy administration was concerned, that was a happy coincidence.

In any case, Luciana had safely arrived at the Upper Hall.

“A pleasure to see you again, Lady Luciana Rudleberg.”

“Likewise, Lady Reuentetta. I’m looking forward to another fruitful semester.”

Lady Saleira Reuentetta, the humble wife of a viscount, supervisor of the women’s Upper Hall dormitory, was ready and waiting inside to receive residents. Her pale-purple hair was done up in a way that made it look particularly full. Joining the modest woman was another who appeared to be a servant (based on her dress, she seemed a lady-in-waiting or some other kind of clerical assistant). Including Micah, that made a party of four in the lobby. Rook was bringing the carriage around so he could begin transporting luggage through the servants’ entrance. Micah wished she could help, but Luciana was a lady, so appearances and all that.

“You’ll be staying in your old room again,” said Saleira. “Will you be needing an escort?”

“Thank you, but my maid ought to remember the way.” Luciana glanced her direction and Micah nodded.

Saleira nodded as well. “Very good. Here is your key, and do try not to misplace it.”

The servant presented it to her, and Micah accepted it for Luciana.

Wow, Micah thought. You know, sometimes I forget I’m technically part of high society until we do stuff like this. Thank God for Miss Serena’s crash course! Had such a scenario not been explicitly included in the curriculum, she might have found herself at a loss and therefore embarrassed. To say nothing of the shame it would have brought Luciana. Micah was truly glad for her teacher’s thoroughness. But if I never have to take that course again, it’ll be too soon!

Beneath the little maid’s practiced smile, tempered in fires unknown, burned a firm determination. A determination to never weather Serena’s lessons again.

With yet another ritual complete, Saleira clasped her hands at her chest and heaved a sigh.

“Lady Reuentetta?” Luciana questioned.

“Excuse me. It’s my nerves. I’m simply relieved to see every resident safely returned.”

“I was the last to arrive?” The lady blinked in confusion.

Saleira put a hand to her cheek and grinned. “Why, yes. The majority of your peers settled their affairs yesterday. Some have been here as long as three days now.”

“They came that soon? Only a day after receiving notice of when the semester would resume?”

“It’s a necessity when so many have so much luggage. Most would struggle to complete their move in time for classes if they came so late. I was up to my ears in residents until today, in fact.”

“I-I see.”

“But then I saw we were still missing one, and I worried something had happened to delay you. It’s a great relief to see I was wrong.”

“I-I’m very sorry to have troubled you, in that case. I never foresaw this causing confusion, so I, um… I’m so sorry. I’m so embarrassed.” Her cheeks burned in testament.

The supervisor giggled behind her hand. “You needn’t apologize, Lady Rudleberg. You’re right on time, and you get the privilege of situating yourself without all the hustle and bustle. As a matter of fact, I would probably keep this a secret or you might become the target of their envy.”

“I suppose?”

“Success and failure are up to interpretation when you really think about it. And if you think you’ve failed in some way, well, you’ll find no better institution in which to learn from your mistakes.”

“Yes. You’re quite right. Thank you!” Luciana returned the supervisor’s kind, beaming smile with one of her own.

“Oh, Rook. You’re already here. Thanks.”

The valet grunted in response, having beaten Luciana and Micah to the room on the second floor. A pile of luggage lay behind him. Servants used specific keys that connected directly to dedicated corridors for them. Rook had obtained one such key for the purposes of unloading the carriage. Thanks to Luciana packing relatively lightly for a noblewoman, it hadn’t taken him long at all.

Luciana blinked. “That was fast.”

“Hey, yeah, there’s no way he had enough time for more than one trip,” Micah realized. “I know we don’t have much compared to other nobles, but it’s still two or three trips’ worth.”

“He can enhance his physical abilities with magic, can’t he? It must be that.”

“I guess, but there’s still the issue of how he could have physically carried it all at once, no?”

“You’re right. Hm. Now I’m curious.”

“I feel we’re touching on forbidden knowledge.”

The girls leered at the luggage pile with suspicion. Rook simply observed them, waiting for them to realize. They could just ask me.

He sighed and waved at the pile. “Come to me, gales. Be as arms—Bracci-Vose.”

The girls yelped as a whirlwind picked up in the middle of the living room, sending their hair fluttering and their skirts flapping precariously. The breeze wasn’t actually strong enough to commit any crimes, but they protected their dignity regardless.

“Rook!” Micah snapped. “Who taught you to use magic like some—oh. What?!”

Bags hovered around Rook. The wind continued to whirl as he stood at its center.

“Is this spell yours?” Luciana asked, still clutching her skirt.

“Melody’s,” Rook corrected. “I saw her do something similar and thought it looked handy. She helped me adapt it to my own purposes.”

“So this is, like, a totally original spell you invented?!” Micah asked incredulously.

“Rook dabbles in maid magic!” Luciana gasped.

“I’m a valet-in-training,” he corrected. He did that a lot.

“Butler bewitchery! That’s so cool!”

“I have no intention of branding it as such.”

And so was born butler bewitchery. The source of Bracci-Vose’s inspiration was actually Allungare la Mano, Melody’s spell based on force magic. Rook’s variant used wind.

“I don’t fully understand the mechanisms of her spell,” he said, “so I asked her if we could recreate it in an element I can cast with.”

“So it only looks like they’re floating, but the bags are actually being lifted by a bunch of invisible arms?” Micah squinted in an attempt to discern them. She failed.

“Here,” Rook said. “Stream—Fare Acqua.”

“Oh! I can see them now!”

Water coursed through the arms, giving them shape. It appeared as if the valet had five extra limbs growing out of him, each carrying a bag.

“It’s like they’re all filled with mini whirlpools,” Luciana observed.

“Really fast ones too,” said Micah.

“I create a layer of air to maintain the general shape of the arm, then circulate the wind inside to give it strength,” Rook explained.

“So the faster it whirls, the stronger the arm?”

“Essentially.”

“Wow! That’s so awesome! It’s like magic!”

“It…is magic.” Rook lacked the mental faculties to comprehend Micah’s whimsy.

“So this is how you carried everything in one trip,” Luciana said. “It really is amazing, but what would be better is if this draft let up.” She gave the valet a level look, still clutching her skirt.

“Right. Sorry. It’s a work in progress.”

In its final form, Bracci-Vose would be localized, but Rook couldn’t control the wind perfectly and thus the gale around him. For that same reason, it was highly mana inefficient, a far cry from Melody’s all-powerful Allungare la Mano.

“So what you’re saying is Melody is in a league of her own,” Luciana said.

“A league exclusive to her for all time, I fear,” Rook replied.

“She’s not a good role model, Rook. At least not for this,” said Micah. “Don’t let it get to you.”

Rook could only grin and accept the little maid’s painful consolation. They were all in the same boat when it came to weathering the tsunami of Melody’s esteem-shattering shows of prowess and the impossible standards she set. Rook ought to have been proud of his ability to cast wind and water spells concurrently, but his superior had already shattered that ceiling. It wasn’t special anymore. Not to them.

“Now that that’s settled, let’s start unpacking so I won’t be late for class,” Luciana said.

“Right. Rook, could you let the bags down?”

He dispelled his magic, lowering the bags gently to the floor.

Micah waited for them all to touch down before facing the others. “All right, let’s get started. You remember what the marks mean, right?”

“I do,” Rook replied.

“Good. Then use those to take the bags to their assigned rooms. I’ll handle Lady Luciana’s bedroom, and you prioritize the kitchen. We’re not going to make it in time for tea at this rate.”

“Right.”

“My lady, you can rest in the living room if you like. I’ll start on tea as soon as the dishes are ready.”

Micah was an instruction-giving machine. One might think they’d planned this in advance, but doubtless this was yet another boon born from Serena’s Dorm Service Crash Course. Indeed, what a labor that class had been. Whatever it had been. It’d certainly made quite the maid out of Micah.

“I could help with unpacking in the bedroom, you know,” Luciana protested.

“No you can’t, my lady. Because letting you help wasn’t in Miss Serena’s instructions. Might I interest you in the living room? It’s the perfect place for a lady to luxuriously lounge. As a lady should, my lady.”

“Okay, I get it,” she groaned. “I could help a little.”

Micah’s eyes shot open, her tone turning frantic. “And what if Miss Serena hears I let you do that?! What if she sends me back to training?! I can’t go back! I can’t go back, my lady!”

“O-okay! Okay! I understand! Wait in the living room! Lounge luxuriously! On it!” It was all Luciana could do after seeing the tears forming in poor Micah’s eyes. It reminded her of the lessons Melody had put her through before she started at the academy.

What in the world did they do during those three days?!

But Luciana would never know. No one would. Except for Serena and Micah.

And so, by Rook’s magic pairing with Micah’s newfound maid ability, the dorm room came together quickly.

“I was too late.”

“Melody?!”

“Miss Melody!”

For all their efforts, they crushed a fellow maid. Utterly crushed her. But in their defense, what else were they supposed to do?

Afterword

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING THIS volume of Heroine? Saint? No, I’m an All-Works Maid (And Proud of It)! Atekichi here, and I still can’t believe we’ve really made it to number five.

This time around, our protagonist finally makes it to Royal Academy as a student! Imagine all the crazy otome game shenanigans Cecilia could get up to…if she didn’t drop out immediately. I’m sorry to everyone who was actually excited. To be honest, I waffled over that development for a long while and even planned on keeping her around for the full three years at first, but then I had a thought.

Would Melody really put up with not being a maid for that long?

The answer was obvious. Even in the name of protecting her lady, the mad maid maniac couldn’t possibly live with being a maid merely on the side. This ultimately led to our current state of affairs, Melody leaving without having done anything noteworthy.

Some of you may have certain feelings about this, but I’m personally extremely satisfied. After all, what is this story about if not one girl’s obsessions with domestic servitude? If Melody had stuck around to carry out her academic career, no doubt the plot would have flowed as ordained by the game, but who’s the protagonist in that case? Cecilia, not Melody.

Personally, I’m extremely excited to write about all the maid shenanigans that await in her future. And eventually freeing Papa Cloud from his endless torment.

Someone put me under a rock.

Anyway, thank you again for reading! See you again in Volume 6! Right? Thought so. Bye!

From the Creators

ATEKICHI

Melody becomes Cecilia and begins her career at Royal Academy. What manner of heart-pounding, romantic encounters will she face in this classic otome game scenario? I wouldn’t get your hopes up. Why? If her priorities weren’t already obvious, just look at the cover!

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Heroine? Saint? No I'm an All-Works Maid (And Proud of It)! Vol 5

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 2:
Trepidation

Chapter 3:
Determination

Chapter 4:
Father-Daughter Meeting

Chapter 6:
Exam Day Approaches

Chapter 7:
Helicopter Papa

Chapter 8:
Examinations and Deliberations

Chapter 9:
Academy Bound

Chapter 10:
Cecilia Moves Out

Chapter 11:
New Arrivals

Chapter 12:
The Part Where Character Intros Are a Whole Thing

Chapter 13:
A Humble Gathering

Chapter 14:
The Social

Chapter 15:
Behind the Scenes

Chapter 16:
A Sleepy Maid and a Curious Micah

Chapter 17:
“New Game Plus” Girl

Chapter 18:
Melody and the Art of Art

Chapter 19:
The Horseback Date:
Ciestine Versus Cecilia

Chapter 20:
The Horseback Date:
Plumles and Memories

Chapter 21:
Angel Emergency

Chapter 22:
The Maid Maniac Has a Midnight Visitor

Chapter 23:
For the Perfect Smile

Chapter 24:
Casting Call for Lady Cecilia

Epilogue

Bonus Story:
Deception Begins at the Heart

Extra Story:
Luciana Moves In—Second Semester Edition

Afterword