Chapter Text
A lot of things had happened today that Franziska had not been expecting. Things she would never have even dreamt. Usually that would be a stain on the Von Karma name and a significant hit to her pride, but the sheer number of things that had occured, with little to no warning, gave her pause. Franziska felt it was safe to say she could not have seen this one coming.
The first thing that happened was that she had not won. She had not lost, either, but that was just as bad. An imperfect trial was practically a loss in of itself. Von Karmas were not imperfect. Von Karmas did not lose. It was all the fault of that stupid American lawyer- but, she digressed.
The next series of events transpired so quickly she was not sure they had happened at all.
1) Her little brother came back from the dead.
2) The stupid American lawyer attacked said little brother.
3) Scruffy managed to herd two stubborn, fully grown men into his car and drove away with the intent of mediating some sort of truce.
4) Franziska von Karma was left alone in a foreign police station with her nearest acquaintance being a small child.
She closed her eyes and counted down from ten- in French, just because she could.
She opened her eyes. Shit. The child was still there.
Phoenix Wright had been a fool to leave his… apprentice here. He must have foolishly forgotten her entirely, when that fool Miles Edgeworth walked in.
"What do we do now?" The little girl said, biting her thumbnail. She was sitting on a cleared space on Scruffy's desk, so that she was almost eye-level with the adults.
She had a point. "What indeed," Franziska muttered. She struck the ground with her whip in frustration. The little girl did not so much as flinch at the sound of it hitting the tiles. She only looked up at her with a frown.
"You shouldn't do that, you know. Mystic Maya says that violins aren't the answer."
...was she being lectured by a child?
"It is violence, small girl. Your…" sister? Cousin? Aunt? Franziska had no recollection of their relationship. "...mentor," she settled on, "means to say 'violence isn't the answer'."
The child nodded seriously. "Yes. A-salt is a process-cute-ah-bowl offense."
Franziska blinked. "That's… correct." She'd never met a child who knew such things at that age, besides herself and Miles Edgeworth. It seemed today was meant entirely for the unexpected. Her curiosity was piqued.
"Do you know what it means? A 'prosecutable offense'?" She asked, testing the depth of her knowledge. It was possible she was just repeating things she had heard in court without understanding them.
"Ummmmmm…" she bit her lip. "It means that Mrs. Franziska will try to put you in jail, right?"
Franziska could not help the smile that grew on her face. Her chest swelled with pride. "You are absolutely correct."
The child- what was her name? Penny? Percy? Penelope?- mirrored her expression, glowing with happiness.
"Remind me," Franziska said, tucking her whip under her arm as she shifted her pose toward her, "what is your name, again?"
"I'm Pearl! I'm from Kurain Village!" She said, swinging her legs.
"I see. Pearl Fey , is it?"
Pearl nodded emphatically in response, updo bobbing rapidly.
"Well then, Pearl Fey, I have a correction to make to your earlier definition. I do not try to put defendants in jail. I do, " Franziska said, smirking.
Pearl's bright expression dimmed into one of confusion.
"But Mystic Maya isn't in jail. And neither is the nice magician we helped," Pearl responded. "And you tried really hard to put Mystic Maya in jail. I haven't forgotten that, you know."
Franziska flinched. How humiliating, to have her failures rubbed in her face by a simple child.
"That is because the fiend Phoenix Wright got in the way," she said. Her fingers itched for her whip, but she would restrain herself. She would not let a mere child's words get under her skin.
"Yeah!" Pearl cheered, eyes gleaming. "Mr. Nick is a dee-fence attorney, which means he helps people like Mystic Maya. He's like her knight in shining armor!" She said, swooning.
"More like 'helps criminals go free'," she muttered, ignoring whatever that last part meant.
Even if he had been- right- about the Fey case. She gripped her forearm tightly.
"...Hey, Mrs. Franziska?"
"What is it?" She snapped.
Pearl Fey was frowning at the floor. Her hands were folded neatly in her lap.
"That man wearing pink- That was Mr. Eh-ji-worth, right?"
Franziska frowned, unsure where this was headed.
"He would probably object to being described in such a manner, but yes, that was Miles Edgeworth," she said. This only seemed to make Pearl more upset.
"Mystic Maya said that Mr. Nick and Mr… um, the pink guy, were friends. Mr. Nick didn't want to talk about it, though, because Mr. Eh-ji-worth wasn't here anymore. Do you know that?"
Franziska snorted. Not friends, certainly. Her brother undoubtedly despised that man for leaving his career in ruin. But if Maya Fey had told her ward that they were friends for some foolish reason, then she would not contradict her.
"I have heard something to that effect," she said. Not a lie, but not entirely the truth.
Pearl's frown wobbled.
"Then why would Mr. Nick get so mad at him?" She cried. "Mr. Nick is a good guy. He hasn't hit anybody before, not even you, and you hit him all the time!" She burst into tears.
Ah. The worst case scenario. She took a meager step closer.
"Listen, little, girl… um, there, there," she said, tapping her back as lightly as possible. This was comforting, was it not?
She had never done this before. Comforting crying children was not a skill prosecution required. Even worse, she had no explanation for her.
The two possibilities that had presented themselves to her were as followed: Either Phoenix Wright had become enraged once he realized someone had tricked him, or Phoenix Wright had been so shocked at Miles Edgeworth's re-appearance that he lost control of his limbs.
Neither was sufficient.
First, Phoenix Wright was stubborn, but he was not prideful. He writhed in the mud like a maggot, digging up contradictions from the darkest layer of dirt. He should be well used to such a knock to his ego.
Second, Phoenix Wright had still been screaming- quite coherently- after he saw Edgeworth. Even when held back, he showed a solid commitment to hitting Miles that was not tempered by time to regain his senses.
Franziska needed to come up with something. Pearl Fey was still crying.
"Perhaps it was a joke…?" She said, not truly aware of what she was saying until it had already left her mouth. That was her genius idea? Papa would be rolling in his grave.
"A… joke?" Her sobs ceased, though she still appeared upset.
An opening. Franziska lunged for it.
"Yes, perhaps it was a… prank of some kind. An unsophisticated one, to be sure, but they may be laughing together at this very moment," she said, pressing on.
"You really think that?" Pearl asked.
Franziska grimaced internally. She was not a big proponent of lying to children, especially to one so clever, but the circumstances were desperate.
"Yes," she said, forcing a winning smile. "It is probably just too foolish for us to understand, as we are not foolish as they are."
Pearl sniffled. She began to clumsily wipe her face with her sleeve, but Franziska swiftly gave her a handkerchief to use instead.
"There, all is well now, is it not?"
Pearl folded the handkerchief into a neat square and placed it beside herself. Her face was still a little red, but it was quickly clearing. She beamed up at Franziska.
"Yeah! Thank you, Mrs. Franziska! Maybe you aren't an evil monster after all!" Pearl said.
Franziska flinched. Was that how Pearl Fey saw her…? She would avoid questioning her further, however, having just been through such a taxing event.
"Thank you."
Shortly afterwards, that fool Phoenix Wright burst into the police station. He doubled over, panting. He seemed to scan the room frantically, until he spotted them near Scruffy's workstation. His shoulders slumped in relief. He came up to them.
"Hey, Pearls," he said, visibly out of breath. He must have been running.
"Hi, Mr. Nick! Mrs. Franziska was just explaining your joke to me! I'm glad you don't really hate Mr. Eh-ji-worth," she said, leaning in conspiratorially.
He looked at Franziska. She raised an eyebrow. He smiled, a little sheepish, as though attempting to communicate some sort of gratitude.
"Yeah, it was just a misunderstanding. Don't worry about it. You ready to go?" He said, addressing Pearl. She nodded.
He helped her off the desk and they went out the door.
Perhaps the American was not so repugnant after all, if the little girl liked him.
Franziska would like to speak with her again, sometime.
She scoffed internally at the notion.
How foolishly sentimental
, she thought, but she could not find it in herself to be angry.