Marie Adrianne Du Noelle paced around her cramped space in agitation, clutching a pen artifact in her hand. The others thought she was in the bedroom she had taken for herself at the inn, but she was actually a bit further inside, hidden away.
Inside her [Hidden Cupboard].
The first [Lady] skill she had ever gotten—one for someone who didn’t always want to be found inside the manor. For someone prone to procrastination and putting things off. Something needed doing? Hide away in the cupboard until a [Maid] finally dragged her out.
Not infallible—it could be spotted easily enough, but people tended to look past it unless they were specifically searching. A small, cramped and dark space, but one where you could just barely sit down in with a lantern and draw. A place of safety—retreat. If she had access to it, that was. Couldn’t have a cupboard in a cavern, really.
Marie had thought that having gotten back to civilization from the caverns, she would have been safe again. But no—the greater danger had been outside. And now… She gripped the pen artifact tighter.
Consequences.
She had not wanted to contact her family for some more time yet, but with matters like this, the [Lady] finally could not put it off any longer. She had no excuse.
Sighing, Marie sat down on her knees, then placed a piece of paper onto the floor of the [Hidden Cupboard]. She set the artifact down and activated it with her personal seal. A verdant green glow enveloped the pen, and it floated up into position, waiting for the signal.
It came almost immediately. The pen jolted—someone on the other end had picked it up.
Marie’s heart sank. They were waiting already—they know. It was inevitable, really. It wouldn’t be a pleasant conversation, so she had procrastinated on it. Until now—until disaster. The pen started writing, and the bad news started coming.
The [Lady] felt just a bit bitter at Fayette for this, but not much. This was a long time coming. She had simply run out of space to run.
She read the glowing letters as they appeared on the paper in a clear and elegant script which she recognized immediately—mother’s. And her heart sank with every word.
So, you finally make yourself known, fool girl? The damage is done already, word is out that you’ve been embroiled in a scheme. Not crown-level, but the other families are talking. A scandal. You cannot stay on the mainland. Come back at haste, and matters will be arranged. You will be sent off within the week.
No signature, but there was no mistaking the sender. Marie picked the pen back up to send a response the other way, but it stopped in place mid-way through her first stroke. She jolted back from the sensation and let go. Someone’s holding the other side.
She watched the pen hover there, waiting for clarification. Then the pen wrote again, and the clarification was quite clear indeed.
This is not a discussion. That was an order. You know the only answer.
Marie did know indeed, but she did not write it. Instead, she wrote two letters on the page, then underlined them.
No
Her heart was beating wildly. She had said no, directly. There would be consequences. But she had to do it, otherwise, her journey would have been for naught.
But that was where the [Lady] was wrong, the consequences were already there.
The pen started writing again, and this time she followed the words as they came, and each one was another hammer, trying to nail her coffin into place.
I invoked an [Engagement Contract] as soon as you disappeared. You are not the only young fool to have ever existed, and ones more clever have succeeded. But not you—stop. Come back. You are a Du Noelle. Do your duty.
Shaking, Mare jumped up and slammed the door of the cupboard open, finally stepping outside to the bedroom. For a moment, she just stood there, getting used to the brighter light of early morning and cold autumn air.
She almost grinned sardonically. So, mother went that far right away, right after I left. None of this mattered at all in the end, and she’s hurrying the process more now. Sent away within a week.
Marie did not debate her actions long; she had already sent in her answer—the only answer she could really give. If the timeline were not pushed back, she might have considered going back, then running off again when things actually started to happen.
But that would be just more running away, more procrastination. She had no more excuses to go on, so she had made her decision. No more going back. No more hiding away in a cupboard and hoping she was ignored.
But in her mind, she still needed something. A new excuse. A fault of hers. Being direct was just so... difficult.
Why could she do this now, when she hadn’t properly run off before? Was she really allowed to?
Heart calmed and face frozen, she turned and picked the pen-artifact back up from behind her, along with the paper, and let her [Hidden Cupboard] fade away. The door vanished, and only a small marking made with pencil was left on the wall. She smudged it, then turned to walk away.
That skill was the start of it, wasn’t it? A skill not proper for a [Lady] on its own, but one that could be advanced in the correct direction with [Skill Trainers] and the right guidance. Perhaps into a grand bastion skill for a fortress. She understood why her family had set her on that path, but she would step it no longer.
Marie walked forward, opened the door to the next room forward, and saw her hired hunters. No—that was wrong. Friends now, maybe. Her eyes lingered on the [Maid] for a moment longer than the others. Hopefully.
She got a few stares back as she stepped in, but the others soon went right back to what they had been doing. The room was holding a court session of sorts. Fayette, the accused, was kneeling on the ground by the beds in penance, and Mireille, the prosecutor, was pacing in front of her, furious.
For a moment, Marie shuddered, remembering the other trial scene she had seen. Just the aftermath though, it was all well over when she saw the bloody results. Hopefully, no heads roll this time.
The [Seamstress] was desperately trying to invent new expletives. “—You absolute acorn-headed half-oxen thief! Your sticky hands are bad enough, but the complete lack of sense—”
Marie tuned out of it and looked over at the table. The offending object: A finely ornamented blue gemstone that shone with magic to her eyes. One very similar to something she herself possessed.
Their party had been tracked here, and the question had been how. After a comprehensive search of their belongings, Marie had spotted the cursed thing. A noble’s personal command seal. A dead Noble’s command seal, taken off the body, with no wardings against scrying on it.
Marie silently walked to the table, then picked it into her hand. So cool and jagged. She closed her eyes and called forth to her power source, and the earth magic roiled on her skin. Not under it, just a bit over, behind a thin layer of protection, along the diagrams lain there. Always present, if not always visible. No risk of infection.
The [Lady] channeled it all into her right hand, at the same time closing it tight and ground the command seal to dust with the strength of bedrock. Only the screech of gem being torn down ran through the room—the others were staring silently.
Marie opened her eyes, calmly took out a small pouch from her bag with her left hand, then let the gemstone dust fall inside it. She deposited it on the table, then nodded at Fayette. “There. It can’t be tracked anymore now. Keep it safe, it would be very valuable to a [Mage].”
The [Maid] hesitantly stood up. “Really, again, sorry. Sorry my mess caught you up in it.”
Looking at the woman clad in black and white, Marie felt conflicted. Frustrated that it had come to this—but also strangely grateful. She had finally made her decision. If matters hadn’t been forced, maybe she would still be putting it off. No, she didn’t really feel angry at her.
Moreso, she felt a certain… tingling down her spine. She remembered how it had felt being forcibly dressed down by the [Maid] and paused, grimacing. Why is that always the first thing that pops into my mind?
Marie shook her head, forcing a look of sympathy into her eyes. She didn’t want to make Fayette feel more guilty and she was good at faking her expression—nobody had seen through her calm in the mines. Nobody saw her panic now.
Things had been forced, and she had made her decision because of that. No more putting things off.
Now she just really needed that excuse.
“I don’t blame you,” Marie finally said, shaking her head. “You don’t know of magic, so you couldn’t have known that you could be tracked. It is a very valuable thing, so I can understand taking it.”
Mireille started grinding on Fayette’s head again. “That’s the thing! This fool didn’t take it to use or sell for the value, I bet she just wanted to have another shiny thing in her collection—right Fay?”
The [Maid] and [Seamstress] mocked a small fight, somewhat playful, but stopped when they saw that Marie wasn’t reacting at all. The [Lady] was just staring. Forward, into emptiness.
“Hey, was it that bad? Did we mess things up that badly?” Fayette asked, rising back up.
The concern in her eyes warmed Marie a tad, so she laughed softly as she let herself fall back onto the bed behind her. She imagined it as a bottomless pit, but it was actually very soft. Not really dramatic enough for a moment like this. The [Lady] sighed.
Had they succeeded or failed in the end here? There was no more [Strike], but there was also no more [Lord] to manage things. A traitor had been taken out, but a lot of valuable property had been destroyed too. Her name had been soiled in a plot, but all the principal accusers were dead, along with any evidence they had gathered. More pursuit was unlikely to come. At least for quite a while. How could she make a calculus on all that?
But that was the thing, and that was why she was laughing. Because she had really known it from the start, all along. This whole adventure… a farce of a thing, an excuse. Solve an issue at a mine so I can get some respect from the family? Who was I fooling?
It had all been an excuse. A justification so she could run away for a while, play around at being a real [Lady], take some time off.
So she laughed, on and on—for how silly it was. And Fayette stared, silent.
“It doesn’t matter,” she finally managed to cough out, when a very concerned [Maid] put a cold hand on her forehead. She swatted the hand away, then sat back up, looking at the others. “It never mattered, from the start. Whether I succeeded or failed here. Not really.”
Fayette met her eyes. “But you knew that from the start, didn’t you?”
Marie tried to fall back down on the bed, but the [Maid] grabbed her by the shoulder, keeping those emerald eyes locked on. “I think you did know, back then when we talked. Does it matter? You did something here”
The touch at her shoulder was distracting her thoughts, but still, the [Lady] had to admit it—it really didn’t matter. It had been fun. She had met new people. She had leveled.
What was my original plan anyway? Maybe I had thought that I could go back after a while, beg forgiveness, and run away again once the talks got more serious? Bleh.
She looked down from Fayette’s eyes and tried to say the words, but it was still just so hard… But she had made her decision, even if some part of her mind panicked at the thought.
Her voice was soft, but she was sure the [Maid] heard. “Just.. Give me an excuse. Help me think of some, would you?”
The [Maid], let go of her shoulder and started fixing up her hair—it had gotten tangled up against the bed. Her scalp tickled. “An excuse? What for?” Fayette asked.
“Just… It would make me feel better, and more secure. Can I really do this? No, more like… why can I do it? They’ll be after me, you know.”
Fayette took her hands off, giving her a look. “A groom on the chase?”
“For starters, of course,” Marie said, then continued, just a tad bitter. “Do I need to find someone else and get married first? Isn’t that how your scenarios and stories tend to go? You’ve read lots, right?”
“Damn all the scenarios,” The [Maid] said, giving her head a pat. Then the [Maid] pointed at herself. “I’ll drive all of them away.”
Marie hid a smile, those words… So familiar. She could almost close her eyes and imagine a young [Maid in Waiting], giggling with her as they talked over similar topics. A different [Maid]—or even… a sister? Do I have the right to those words anymore?
But this [Maid]… was very different. Marie opened her eyes and narrowed them at Fayette, some mocking doubt in them. “And what exactly will you do? When a [Lord] comes calling?”
The morning light flashed on Fayette’s eyes, like the glint of a knife—half as sharp as the [Combat Maid’s] voice “I’ve dealt with others.”
And then Marie felt shivers. Tingles up her spine. Yes, there was the difference, the edge of danger. Frightening, but also thrilling in a way. She remembered the sight. A [Maid] walking back under a crimson moon, blood splattered on her uniform, crossbow bolt in her thigh.
Peeking down, she saw only the [Maid’s] long dress and apron, but she could remember the bandages that had been worked in under there. So much blood. But the [Doctor] was good, and she had those strange pills…
And the [Maid] had not reacted at all to the crossbow bolt, not after returning from that site of execution, the plaza of headless bodies. She had not spoken of what had passed there.
Marie breathed deep, calming the tingles of danger in her body. Is this how [Dangersense] feels? Sharp, but oddly reassuring too. She bit her lip—it really was working, she felt a bit better already. She could almost get the right words out, but maybe just a bit more…
“Right—there’s one excuse. I think that one’s fine. I think I’ll need a few more though—I’m still a [Lady]. Duty to house and people and all that. Can I really just run off from all that?”
Mireille stepped forward, giving her a knowing look. “Think hard on what family exactly you owe duty to. Not everyone deserves it. Aren’t there those more deserving?”
Marie flinched back—right, she had told her. I wonder, where are those two right now? How would I even search? But even with them… a [Lady] with no backing—
“Then I’d truly be an outcast,” she mused. “You’ve seen that my family name has power—I’d be throwing it all off. What use would I be then?”
“Not really power of your own then, is it?” Olivia said, also looking at her pointedly. The [Doctor] raised a lecturing hand up. “Do you think the first [Ladies] sprang into being all connected like that? If you want power, grab it and hoard it, but don’t rely on things loaned—they don’t last.”
And then Marie began wondering what the gloomy woman’s story was, and why she always ended up drinking so much. She looked back to Fayette, then to Mireille, then nodded. I wonder when I really became part of this? Stopped being just a weird client for them? Down in the cavern? Or in that sauna… A weight was being lifted, but it was not quite there yet.
“Besides, you helped the [Miners] here,” Fayette said, then paused for a moment. “I think so at least. Who could you help overseas? Not your house’s people at least.”
Marie let out a long sigh, then almost chuckled. “Alright, I think all that covers it. Duty, family, danger—let it all sod off!” she looked to the side, peaking at Fayette, a playful grin almost forming. “Shall we go for three? That’s how these things are best, right? One more excuse? Do you have something tucked in that apron of yours?”
It didn’t really matter; her decision was made. But excuses were nice, like a cupboard she could hide away in. A bit more time before she had to clean her room or get cleaned up. Until a [Maid] forced her to, that was.
But when the [Maid] smiled at her and dug into her apron’s big magical pouch, the [Lady] began to feel anticipation and excitement. So maybe it did matter after all. More than in just excuses.
And then Fayette pulled out a book. Marie eyed it skeptically—not what she had expected. True, she does read, but what on earth… The [Maid] handed the book over to her, winking.
Fayette pointed at her two other friends. “Reason number three, I need you around! These two are no good, you see. They never discuss my books with me! Or like my real [Spicy Cooking]. But you read, right? And you have proper taste, unlike these uncivilized…”
Mireille crossed her arms, glaring at Fayette. “Marie, I think we need you too. Maybe you can knock some sense into this sticky-pawed fool. I swear she has no sense at all half the—”
Fayette poked the [Seamstress] on the nose, she poked back, and then the two really started bickering. Marie smiled at that—a nostalgic sight—then looked down at the book. A blue cover. Friend of the People – Volume 15.
She hummed to herself. I wonder what Fayette wants me to read? The book almost tingled in her arms, the excitement of something shared.
Marie decided to peek midway into the book, for a bit of a hint. She opened a random page and began to read from the top.
Therefore, removing [Lords] and [Ladies] from our society peacefully is impossible, as class conversion to more [Icon-of-the-People] oriented directions will not be guaranteed, and the hold of entrenched power is deep. Blood will be spilled, [Lords], [Ladies] and their servants, but it will be worthwhile in service of the—
She closed the book, then stared at Fayette. Stared. Then she really laughed, feeling the last ties fall off, and felt truly free. At peace. And blessedly, not alone.
I really am lucky to have found them—even if some have concerning reading habits.
She shook her head, then went to split off the escalating brawl. Fayette was already drawing out her broom, and Olivia was heading to the other room.
That night, she penned one last letter home. She looked over the resulting text with satisfaction, licked the tip of her pen-artifact, then broke it in half. The next morning, she crushed her personal command seal to dust and dropped it all down a river.
Let them come then.
—
Dearest Mother, Father.
I am running off to the colonies, as I have found the most wonderful man to wed. We have already done the unspeakable together, so I fear my chastity is ruined. There is no need to come searching. Best regards.
—Marie
Henriette du Noelle noted the lack of a family name in the signing. She did not sigh, get angry, or feel upset in any other way. Fools will be fools. And the blatant lies were… too blatant. She knew her daughter—and her unfortunate tendencies. Getting wedded by herself—fat chance.
She turned her head up and looked at the grim [Lord] sitting in front, marking down text as he listened to a ticking artifact. More bad news? Henriette felt a headache coming. She had already promised haste, but that the girl would go this far… She had miscalculated. Marie usually only put things off a few weeks at most. Where has she found a spine?
She coughed into her hand politely, then gave a brief bow when the [Lord] looked up. Very brief. Not one bit too low or long, she knew her etiquette. “My apologies, it seems the ceremony will be delayed. But I shall see the matter settled.”
The [Lord] grimaced. “I am really starting to reconsider whether this is all worth it.” He glanced at the paper, then hit a button on the ticker-artifact, pausing it. “There’s more bad news. The Nordic Union is making moves in Vinland again, and I really need to get back there—my men are waiting. Also seems there’s some restlessness in the people.”
“In the people?” Henriette asked, evoking a suitably interested tone of voice. “Even during imminent war?”
The [Lord’s] face was grim. “Seems they are starting to tire of a [Queen] so far removed from them, and of taxes taken overseas. Nothing major yet, but trouble like this brews like moonshine—a few years unattended, and things will get explosive.”
The [Lady] nodded. “Then we best hurry, I’m sure Marie will be of use to you. I know you know your classes.”
The [Lord] sighed and rubbed his mustache. “So be it. But I tire of your words.” He stood up, then began marching off—a true [Lord of Conquest]. Level 32. “I shall fetch her myself.”
New party member gained!
Marie Adrianne du Noelle
Class: [Stone Bastion Lady (Tier 2)]
Level: 22
Skills:
Household (3/4)
[Hidden Cupboard] - Rank II [Appraise] - Rank V [Boon of the Stone Bastion (+)] - Rank IIIWomanly Arts (3/4)
[Picture of Health] - Rank III [Control Conversation(+)] - Rank II [Waltz Partner] – Rank IVEarth Spellcraft (2/4)
[Earth Magic Affinity] - Rank III [Conjure Stone Spear] - Rank ICapstone skills (1/1)
[Elegant Tea Party]Free skills (4/4)
[Elemental Ink] - Rank II [Basic Monster Binding] - Rank IV [Disguise Identity (Basic)] - Rank II [Basic Ropemaking (Bedsheets)] - Rank I
Marie Adrianne Du Noelle paced around her cramped space in agitation, clutching a pen artifact in her hand. The others thought she was in the bedroom she had taken for herself at the inn, but she was actually a bit further inside, hidden away.
Inside her [Hidden Cupboard].
The first [Lady] skill she had ever gotten—one for someone who didn’t always want to be found inside the manor. For someone prone to procrastination and putting things off. Something needed doing? Hide away in the cupboard until a [Maid] finally dragged her out.
Not infallible—it could be spotted easily enough, but people tended to look past it unless they were specifically searching. A small, cramped and dark space, but one where you could just barely sit down in with a lantern and draw. A place of safety—retreat. If she had access to it, that was. Couldn’t have a cupboard in a cavern, really.
Marie had thought that having gotten back to civilization from the caverns, she would have been safe again. But no—the greater danger had been outside. And now… She gripped the pen artifact tighter.
Consequences.
She had not wanted to contact her family for some more time yet, but with matters like this, the [Lady] finally could not put it off any longer. She had no excuse.
Sighing, Marie sat down on her knees, then placed a piece of paper onto the floor of the [Hidden Cupboard]. She set the artifact down and activated it with her personal seal. A verdant green glow enveloped the pen, and it floated up into position, waiting for the signal.
It came almost immediately. The pen jolted—someone on the other end had picked it up.
Marie’s heart sank. They were waiting already—they know. It was inevitable, really. It wouldn’t be a pleasant conversation, so she had procrastinated on it. Until now—until disaster. The pen started writing, and the bad news started coming.
The [Lady] felt just a bit bitter at Fayette for this, but not much. This was a long time coming. She had simply run out of space to run.
She read the glowing letters as they appeared on the paper in a clear and elegant script which she recognized immediately—mother’s. And her heart sank with every word.
So, you finally make yourself known, fool girl? The damage is done already, word is out that you’ve been embroiled in a scheme. Not crown-level, but the other families are talking. A scandal. You cannot stay on the mainland. Come back at haste, and matters will be arranged. You will be sent off within the week.
No signature, but there was no mistaking the sender. Marie picked the pen back up to send a response the other way, but it stopped in place mid-way through her first stroke. She jolted back from the sensation and let go. Someone’s holding the other side.
She watched the pen hover there, waiting for clarification. Then the pen wrote again, and the clarification was quite clear indeed.
This is not a discussion. That was an order. You know the only answer.
Marie did know indeed, but she did not write it. Instead, she wrote two letters on the page, then underlined them.
No
Her heart was beating wildly. She had said no, directly. There would be consequences. But she had to do it, otherwise, her journey would have been for naught.
But that was where the [Lady] was wrong, the consequences were already there.
The pen started writing again, and this time she followed the words as they came, and each one was another hammer, trying to nail her coffin into place.
I invoked an [Engagement Contract] as soon as you disappeared. You are not the only young fool to have ever existed, and ones more clever have succeeded. But not you—stop. Come back. You are a Du Noelle. Do your duty.
Shaking, Mare jumped up and slammed the door of the cupboard open, finally stepping outside to the bedroom. For a moment, she just stood there, getting used to the brighter light of early morning and cold autumn air.
She almost grinned sardonically. So, mother went that far right away, right after I left. None of this mattered at all in the end, and she’s hurrying the process more now. Sent away within a week.
Marie did not debate her actions long; she had already sent in her answer—the only answer she could really give. If the timeline were not pushed back, she might have considered going back, then running off again when things actually started to happen.
But that would be just more running away, more procrastination. She had no more excuses to go on, so she had made her decision. No more going back. No more hiding away in a cupboard and hoping she was ignored.
But in her mind, she still needed something. A new excuse. A fault of hers. Being direct was just so... difficult.
Why could she do this now, when she hadn’t properly run off before? Was she really allowed to?
Heart calmed and face frozen, she turned and picked the pen-artifact back up from behind her, along with the paper, and let her [Hidden Cupboard] fade away. The door vanished, and only a small marking made with pencil was left on the wall. She smudged it, then turned to walk away.
That skill was the start of it, wasn’t it? A skill not proper for a [Lady] on its own, but one that could be advanced in the correct direction with [Skill Trainers] and the right guidance. Perhaps into a grand bastion skill for a fortress. She understood why her family had set her on that path, but she would step it no longer.
Marie walked forward, opened the door to the next room forward, and saw her hired hunters. No—that was wrong. Friends now, maybe. Her eyes lingered on the [Maid] for a moment longer than the others. Hopefully.
She got a few stares back as she stepped in, but the others soon went right back to what they had been doing. The room was holding a court session of sorts. Fayette, the accused, was kneeling on the ground by the beds in penance, and Mireille, the prosecutor, was pacing in front of her, furious.
For a moment, Marie shuddered, remembering the other trial scene she had seen. Just the aftermath though, it was all well over when she saw the bloody results. Hopefully, no heads roll this time.
The [Seamstress] was desperately trying to invent new expletives. “—You absolute acorn-headed half-oxen thief! Your sticky hands are bad enough, but the complete lack of sense—”
Marie tuned out of it and looked over at the table. The offending object: A finely ornamented blue gemstone that shone with magic to her eyes. One very similar to something she herself possessed.
Their party had been tracked here, and the question had been how. After a comprehensive search of their belongings, Marie had spotted the cursed thing. A noble’s personal command seal. A dead Noble’s command seal, taken off the body, with no wardings against scrying on it.
Marie silently walked to the table, then picked it into her hand. So cool and jagged. She closed her eyes and called forth to her power source, and the earth magic roiled on her skin. Not under it, just a bit over, behind a thin layer of protection, along the diagrams lain there. Always present, if not always visible. No risk of infection.
The [Lady] channeled it all into her right hand, at the same time closing it tight and ground the command seal to dust with the strength of bedrock. Only the screech of gem being torn down ran through the room—the others were staring silently.
Marie opened her eyes, calmly took out a small pouch from her bag with her left hand, then let the gemstone dust fall inside it. She deposited it on the table, then nodded at Fayette. “There. It can’t be tracked anymore now. Keep it safe, it would be very valuable to a [Mage].”
The [Maid] hesitantly stood up. “Really, again, sorry. Sorry my mess caught you up in it.”
Looking at the woman clad in black and white, Marie felt conflicted. Frustrated that it had come to this—but also strangely grateful. She had finally made her decision. If matters hadn’t been forced, maybe she would still be putting it off. No, she didn’t really feel angry at her.
Moreso, she felt a certain… tingling down her spine. She remembered how it had felt being forcibly dressed down by the [Maid] and paused, grimacing. Why is that always the first thing that pops into my mind?
Marie shook her head, forcing a look of sympathy into her eyes. She didn’t want to make Fayette feel more guilty and she was good at faking her expression—nobody had seen through her calm in the mines. Nobody saw her panic now.
Things had been forced, and she had made her decision because of that. No more putting things off.
Now she just really needed that excuse.
“I don’t blame you,” Marie finally said, shaking her head. “You don’t know of magic, so you couldn’t have known that you could be tracked. It is a very valuable thing, so I can understand taking it.”
Mireille started grinding on Fayette’s head again. “That’s the thing! This fool didn’t take it to use or sell for the value, I bet she just wanted to have another shiny thing in her collection—right Fay?”
The [Maid] and [Seamstress] mocked a small fight, somewhat playful, but stopped when they saw that Marie wasn’t reacting at all. The [Lady] was just staring. Forward, into emptiness.
“Hey, was it that bad? Did we mess things up that badly?” Fayette asked, rising back up.
The concern in her eyes warmed Marie a tad, so she laughed softly as she let herself fall back onto the bed behind her. She imagined it as a bottomless pit, but it was actually very soft. Not really dramatic enough for a moment like this. The [Lady] sighed.
Had they succeeded or failed in the end here? There was no more [Strike], but there was also no more [Lord] to manage things. A traitor had been taken out, but a lot of valuable property had been destroyed too. Her name had been soiled in a plot, but all the principal accusers were dead, along with any evidence they had gathered. More pursuit was unlikely to come. At least for quite a while. How could she make a calculus on all that?
But that was the thing, and that was why she was laughing. Because she had really known it from the start, all along. This whole adventure… a farce of a thing, an excuse. Solve an issue at a mine so I can get some respect from the family? Who was I fooling?
It had all been an excuse. A justification so she could run away for a while, play around at being a real [Lady], take some time off.
So she laughed, on and on—for how silly it was. And Fayette stared, silent.
“It doesn’t matter,” she finally managed to cough out, when a very concerned [Maid] put a cold hand on her forehead. She swatted the hand away, then sat back up, looking at the others. “It never mattered, from the start. Whether I succeeded or failed here. Not really.”
Fayette met her eyes. “But you knew that from the start, didn’t you?”
Marie tried to fall back down on the bed, but the [Maid] grabbed her by the shoulder, keeping those emerald eyes locked on. “I think you did know, back then when we talked. Does it matter? You did something here”
The touch at her shoulder was distracting her thoughts, but still, the [Lady] had to admit it—it really didn’t matter. It had been fun. She had met new people. She had leveled.
What was my original plan anyway? Maybe I had thought that I could go back after a while, beg forgiveness, and run away again once the talks got more serious? Bleh.
She looked down from Fayette’s eyes and tried to say the words, but it was still just so hard… But she had made her decision, even if some part of her mind panicked at the thought.
Her voice was soft, but she was sure the [Maid] heard. “Just.. Give me an excuse. Help me think of some, would you?”
The [Maid], let go of her shoulder and started fixing up her hair—it had gotten tangled up against the bed. Her scalp tickled. “An excuse? What for?” Fayette asked.
“Just… It would make me feel better, and more secure. Can I really do this? No, more like… why can I do it? They’ll be after me, you know.”
Fayette took her hands off, giving her a look. “A groom on the chase?”
“For starters, of course,” Marie said, then continued, just a tad bitter. “Do I need to find someone else and get married first? Isn’t that how your scenarios and stories tend to go? You’ve read lots, right?”
“Damn all the scenarios,” The [Maid] said, giving her head a pat. Then the [Maid] pointed at herself. “I’ll drive all of them away.”
Marie hid a smile, those words… So familiar. She could almost close her eyes and imagine a young [Maid in Waiting], giggling with her as they talked over similar topics. A different [Maid]—or even… a sister? Do I have the right to those words anymore?
But this [Maid]… was very different. Marie opened her eyes and narrowed them at Fayette, some mocking doubt in them. “And what exactly will you do? When a [Lord] comes calling?”
The morning light flashed on Fayette’s eyes, like the glint of a knife—half as sharp as the [Combat Maid’s] voice “I’ve dealt with others.”
And then Marie felt shivers. Tingles up her spine. Yes, there was the difference, the edge of danger. Frightening, but also thrilling in a way. She remembered the sight. A [Maid] walking back under a crimson moon, blood splattered on her uniform, crossbow bolt in her thigh.
Peeking down, she saw only the [Maid’s] long dress and apron, but she could remember the bandages that had been worked in under there. So much blood. But the [Doctor] was good, and she had those strange pills…
And the [Maid] had not reacted at all to the crossbow bolt, not after returning from that site of execution, the plaza of headless bodies. She had not spoken of what had passed there.
Marie breathed deep, calming the tingles of danger in her body. Is this how [Dangersense] feels? Sharp, but oddly reassuring too. She bit her lip—it really was working, she felt a bit better already. She could almost get the right words out, but maybe just a bit more…
“Right—there’s one excuse. I think that one’s fine. I think I’ll need a few more though—I’m still a [Lady]. Duty to house and people and all that. Can I really just run off from all that?”
Mireille stepped forward, giving her a knowing look. “Think hard on what family exactly you owe duty to. Not everyone deserves it. Aren’t there those more deserving?”
Marie flinched back—right, she had told her. I wonder, where are those two right now? How would I even search? But even with them… a [Lady] with no backing—
“Then I’d truly be an outcast,” she mused. “You’ve seen that my family name has power—I’d be throwing it all off. What use would I be then?”
“Not really power of your own then, is it?” Olivia said, also looking at her pointedly. The [Doctor] raised a lecturing hand up. “Do you think the first [Ladies] sprang into being all connected like that? If you want power, grab it and hoard it, but don’t rely on things loaned—they don’t last.”
And then Marie began wondering what the gloomy woman’s story was, and why she always ended up drinking so much. She looked back to Fayette, then to Mireille, then nodded. I wonder when I really became part of this? Stopped being just a weird client for them? Down in the cavern? Or in that sauna… A weight was being lifted, but it was not quite there yet.
“Besides, you helped the [Miners] here,” Fayette said, then paused for a moment. “I think so at least. Who could you help overseas? Not your house’s people at least.”
Marie let out a long sigh, then almost chuckled. “Alright, I think all that covers it. Duty, family, danger—let it all sod off!” she looked to the side, peaking at Fayette, a playful grin almost forming. “Shall we go for three? That’s how these things are best, right? One more excuse? Do you have something tucked in that apron of yours?”
It didn’t really matter; her decision was made. But excuses were nice, like a cupboard she could hide away in. A bit more time before she had to clean her room or get cleaned up. Until a [Maid] forced her to, that was.
But when the [Maid] smiled at her and dug into her apron’s big magical pouch, the [Lady] began to feel anticipation and excitement. So maybe it did matter after all. More than in just excuses.
And then Fayette pulled out a book. Marie eyed it skeptically—not what she had expected. True, she does read, but what on earth… The [Maid] handed the book over to her, winking.
Fayette pointed at her two other friends. “Reason number three, I need you around! These two are no good, you see. They never discuss my books with me! Or like my real [Spicy Cooking]. But you read, right? And you have proper taste, unlike these uncivilized…”
Mireille crossed her arms, glaring at Fayette. “Marie, I think we need you too. Maybe you can knock some sense into this sticky-pawed fool. I swear she has no sense at all half the—”
Fayette poked the [Seamstress] on the nose, she poked back, and then the two really started bickering. Marie smiled at that—a nostalgic sight—then looked down at the book. A blue cover. Friend of the People – Volume 15.
She hummed to herself. I wonder what Fayette wants me to read? The book almost tingled in her arms, the excitement of something shared.
Marie decided to peek midway into the book, for a bit of a hint. She opened a random page and began to read from the top.
Therefore, removing [Lords] and [Ladies] from our society peacefully is impossible, as class conversion to more [Icon-of-the-People] oriented directions will not be guaranteed, and the hold of entrenched power is deep. Blood will be spilled, [Lords], [Ladies] and their servants, but it will be worthwhile in service of the—
She closed the book, then stared at Fayette. Stared. Then she really laughed, feeling the last ties fall off, and felt truly free. At peace. And blessedly, not alone.
I really am lucky to have found them—even if some have concerning reading habits.
She shook her head, then went to split off the escalating brawl. Fayette was already drawing out her broom, and Olivia was heading to the other room.
That night, she penned one last letter home. She looked over the resulting text with satisfaction, licked the tip of her pen-artifact, then broke it in half. The next morning, she crushed her personal command seal to dust and dropped it all down a river.
Let them come then.
—
Dearest Mother, Father.
I am running off to the colonies, as I have found the most wonderful man to wed. We have already done the unspeakable together, so I fear my chastity is ruined. There is no need to come searching. Best regards.
—Marie
Henriette du Noelle noted the lack of a family name in the signing. She did not sigh, get angry, or feel upset in any other way. Fools will be fools. And the blatant lies were… too blatant. She knew her daughter—and her unfortunate tendencies. Getting wedded by herself—fat chance.
She turned her head up and looked at the grim [Lord] sitting in front, marking down text as he listened to a ticking artifact. More bad news? Henriette felt a headache coming. She had already promised haste, but that the girl would go this far… She had miscalculated. Marie usually only put things off a few weeks at most. Where has she found a spine?
She coughed into her hand politely, then gave a brief bow when the [Lord] looked up. Very brief. Not one bit too low or long, she knew her etiquette. “My apologies, it seems the ceremony will be delayed. But I shall see the matter settled.”
The [Lord] grimaced. “I am really starting to reconsider whether this is all worth it.” He glanced at the paper, then hit a button on the ticker-artifact, pausing it. “There’s more bad news. The Nordic Union is making moves in Vinland again, and I really need to get back there—my men are waiting. Also seems there’s some restlessness in the people.”
“In the people?” Henriette asked, evoking a suitably interested tone of voice. “Even during imminent war?”
The [Lord’s] face was grim. “Seems they are starting to tire of a [Queen] so far removed from them, and of taxes taken overseas. Nothing major yet, but trouble like this brews like moonshine—a few years unattended, and things will get explosive.”
The [Lady] nodded. “Then we best hurry, I’m sure Marie will be of use to you. I know you know your classes.”
The [Lord] sighed and rubbed his mustache. “So be it. But I tire of your words.” He stood up, then began marching off—a true [Lord of Conquest]. Level 32. “I shall fetch her myself.”
New party member gained!
Marie Adrianne du Noelle
Class: [Stone Bastion Lady (Tier 2)]
Level: 22
Skills:
Household (3/4)
[Hidden Cupboard] - Rank II [Appraise] - Rank V [Boon of the Stone Bastion (+)] - Rank IIIWomanly Arts (3/4)
[Picture of Health] - Rank III [Control Conversation(+)] - Rank II [Waltz Partner] – Rank IVEarth Spellcraft (2/4)
[Earth Magic Affinity] - Rank III [Conjure Stone Spear] - Rank ICapstone skills (1/1)
[Elegant Tea Party]Free skills (4/4)
[Elemental Ink] - Rank II [Basic Monster Binding] - Rank IV [Disguise Identity (Basic)] - Rank II [Basic Ropemaking (Bedsheets)] - Rank I
