Chapter Text
“I’m an expert in all areas of life, including romance. Of course I’m dating somebody, you fool.”
The crack of her whip registered before her words did. Franziska von Karma was far more used to the snap of solid leather than she was to hearing herself speak of romantic endeavors. To be honest, this was probably the first time she had ever heard herself discuss such matters.
That was because the matters in question were foolish. Romance was nothing but a distraction in times of desperation. They were a means to an end, a non-tangible feeling to hold onto to bring one back to the light. Franziska von Karma never strayed from the light. Franziska von Karma was never to be found in a time of desperation.
Franziska von Karma was perfect, and it was only then that she began to see this as a problem.
The lie tumbled out of her mouth faster than she expected, to the point where she surprised not only the fool sitting across from her, but also herself.
This was not a good lie.
This was a very bad lie.
An awful, imperfect, foolish lie.
Not to drag the point, but this lie was not some one-off remark ensuring victory and success, this lie was one that was surely going to worm its way into not only her life, but the lives of those around her. This lie would affect her job, her social standing, her success. It was a bomb waiting to go off, and it only took one remark to set it alight.
Before she gave her brother any time to respond, she stood up from where she sat, cracked her whip once more and said her goodbyes.
“Remember when you faked your death, Miles Edgeworth? We should discuss that next time.”
She turned on her heel once, shoulders squared. Franziska paused and faced Miles again, lips pursed in preparation for a short remark.
“Fool.”
Satisfied, she stomped towards the exit, hoping that finality lingered in the air.
Despite her confident composure and the thunderous clicking of her heels, her head was spinning.
———
The woman spun her whip around her hand, pacing across her hotel room. How she ended up discussing romance with her idiotic little brother was a mystery. Quite frankly, the entire conversation up until her foolish remark was a blur. Not that it mattered. No amount of context was going to explain her actions. She had backed herself into a corner; Franziska had no reason to lie to her brother, turning a normal conversation into an act of foolishness.
Her current line of reasoning went as such: If Miles Edgeworth was to find out that he was lied to, not only would he be mad (his penchant for the truth was annoying, especially so in this situation) he would also regard Franziska as a fool. There was no discernible motive vis-a-vis the lie, and if her brother were to unspin the web of lies that Franziska didn’t even mean to spin, she would fall so far from grace that she would have to pull a Mimi Miney, and completely change herself, inside and out. Also she would have to murder somebody, but that truly was the least of her problems.
So there was only one solution (besides the Mimi Miney thing and all associated ideas). Her web of lies was to turn into an unimaginable labyrinth, woven of false romantics. Miles Edgeworth was to fall prey to this labyrinth, and never even consider the fact that his big sister, whom he looked up to and admired very much, would lie to him.
Her first step in constructing this metaphorical maze was simple. She needed an associate.
...Unfortunately, her tendency to push others away in favor of work left her with little options.
Adrian Andrews was out of the question and it DEFINITELY wasn’t because Franziska still harbored guilt over how she treated her ex-friend. Kay Faraday might as well have been a child.
And that concluded her list of friends.
Most of her co-workers were men, and Franziska wasn’t willing to lie to THAT extent. - not to mention how unprofessional it would be. There was a good chance that the aforementioned web was going to snap before it was truly spun.
Franziska very rarely met women in her field of work, and the only plausible name that came to mind was Lotta Hart. She gagged at the thought. Was there truly no other woman existing in a way to Franziska that would make the situation a strictly personal m-
Wait.
———
“DO NOT FLATTER YOURSELF, PHOENIX WRIGHT.”
Nick held the phone about five feet away from him, squinting in visible pain each time the woman on the other end spoke up.
Maya didn’t even need to hear the woman’s voice to know that it was Franziska von Karma, the true Demon Prosecutor. Most people would have her brother hold the title, but they didn’t know Miles Edgeworth like Maya did. Edgeworth was, emotionally, an idiot. He never knew what to do with things that weren’t business related. To some, this inability to deal with personal matters made him seem horrific. To those around him, it made him seem like Edgeworth.
Franziska, on the other hand, did not have such issues. She was blunt and to-the-point. She didn’t shy away from issues that made others uncomfortable. No, Franziska von Karma charged forward. Not in a way that was reckless — the word ‘reckless’ implied she didn’t think things through — in a way that was almost annoyingly calculated.
“Phoenix Wright, are you still there? For your sake, I hope not.”
A cough left Phoenix (assumedly by accident, judging by how his face had turned three shades redder), and Maya suppressed a giggle. Eager to escape the mundanity of the office, Maya leaned forward in her seat, tilting her head towards the phone that sat oh-so-far away from Nick.
“Phoenix Wright, you absolute fool of a man. You foolishly foolish joke of a lawyer. I did not call to speak with you. I called to speak with your subordinate.”
Nick opened his mouth to speak (on purpose this time), but Miss von Karma continued.
“It’s called the Wright Anything Agency, not the Phoenix Wright Hotline. One does not call this number to speak with YOU. They call this foolish number so that they can talk to any member of your ragtag defense team, NOT JUST YOU.”
Nick closed his mouth. It was clear that there was no way he was getting a word in, and any attempt to do otherwise would result in Franziska von Karma ignoring logic and whipping Phoenix through the phone.
“What you are going to do now, Phoenix Wright, is hand the phone to Miss Maya Fey. If Miss Maya Fey is not present, hang up immediately. Even a fool such as yourself should be able to handle such simple instructions.”
Phoenix looked at Maya with confusion and terror in his eyes. For being the smartest man she knew, he sure was dumb. A fool, one might even say.
Maya laughed to herself. Jesus, she was hilarious. Double entendre without even trying.
The confusion in the eyes of her friend only became more apparent.
She took the phone from him, amazed at his weak grip. Pearl could probably beat him in an arm wrestling contest. Apollo could probably beat him at an arm wrestling contest. Not that Nick would enter one. He would be all mysterious about it, trying to imitate Mi-
Franziska’s voice brought her out of her musings.
“Is this Maya Fey? If it is not, Phoenix Wright, so help me god, I will whip you till your skull has collapsed in on itself.”
“Sorry! Hi, this is she. She is Maya. I am Maya! Hi!” Maya wasn’t sure if a smile was able to be conveyed over the phone, but she tried her best to communicate it.
“Hello Miss Fey. I have a proposal.”