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Chapter Text

Graduation is not the end of the semester, especially not for the first years. Hence, what remains of the Student Council is finishing up some last-minute organization and documentation. Even for the six of them, it’s a daunting task, but they’ve tried to delegate the chores evenly.

Maria has spent the last forty-five minutes trying to determine where exactly in the Council library this wayward book goes and explaining to her fellow Student Council members why it shouldn't.

"I really do think this book belongs somewhere like the Ministry instead," she says again, and Geordo bites back a sigh.

"Be that as it may, it was donated to the Academy, and we don't have the authorization to hand it over unless the Ministry itself requests it," he explains. He takes the book from her and flicks the spine experimentally before setting it on the table. "I fully trust ourselves to be responsible enough."

Maria reaches out and drags the book halfway between them before Geordo grabs it from the other end. "I don't think having a book that can answer a question about the future is a good idea. We're all going to want to ask just one little question, and don't pretend like you don't know what it is."

"How I wish," Geordo starts through gritted teeth, still holding onto the book Maria was trying to catalog, "that you all would just control yourselves. Why, if I'd shown as little respect for my fiance as -"

"We all wish you'd care a little less for Katarina," Alan interrupts. This little back-and-forth between Maria and his twin had ceased to be amusing.

"A lot less," Mary mutters, and Keith nods darkly, almost itching to get his hands on the book himself. Sophia looks to be contemplating reaching out and grabbing the thing herself.

Only, Maria's suddenly not in the student council room anymore.

Instead, she's in an empty hallway, just off one of the lecture rooms. It's that part of the afternoon where this section of the Academy is nearly ghostly silent, and more so after exams. Reorienting herself takes but a minute, and Maria tries to head back to the Student Council.

She's halfway down the hall when Katarina turns the corner, and Maria can’t help the soft smile she feels already forming.

"Lady Katarina," she calls, and Katarina starts moving towards her determinedly. Maria catches a glimpse of something at her side and freezes.

Instinctively, Maria glances over her shoulder, concerned, only to find nothing there. So she turns back around and takes in the scene again, puzzled.

Lady Katarina, sprinting full speed towards her with a dagger at the ready, her face twisted up into a genuinely fierce sneer.

The moment the knife sinks deep into her side, Maria realizes.

Oh. This is not my Lady Katarina.

"Filthy commoner," she hears over the rush of blood in her ears, and the pain sets in. The knife slides out wetly, and crimson blossoms along the pink of her dress. "I won't let you take him from me." Somehow, as Maria collapses to the hardwood, Katarina leans even closer and whispers, "Cavorting around with my fiance and that bastard brother of mine was only ever going to bring about your doom."

Maria tries to speak, but something of a gurgle comes out instead. Katarina laughs, cold and vicious, and her breath dusts against Maria's cheek in a poor mimicry of the intimacy Maria craves.

She drops the knife and steps away. As if on a casual stroll to tea and not like she hasn’t just struck a precise blow to Maria’s heart. Maria watches her from the floor, the taste of blood stronger on her tongue than she has ever known it before.

Katarina makes it back to the end of the hall, and then something weird happens, like Maria is watching two separate events simultaneously.

She watches Katarina slump back against the wall, her hand instinctively pressing over her neck even as blood leaks and sprays through her fingers.

She watches Katarina thrown violently back into the wall, having heard the sick snap of bones and noticing how her body contorts just wrong.

Somehow, Maria sees Geordo emotionless, blood dripping from his sword as he slashes at Katarina again, and Keith, face twisted in rage as his earth golem staggers forward.

Somehow, Maria knows Katarina is dead, and she screams.

---

One second, Maria is there, book in hand. The next, she has flickered out of existence. A third, before they can even react, and she blinks back into reality, slumping down immediately where she stands and wailing, choking on her bile and tears.

The fourth, and they are at her side.

Mary doesn't hesitate, dropping to the floor beside her and immediately propping up Maria, one arm around her shoulders as her other hand tilts Maria's head up to assess her face.

"Maria, what happened? Are you okay?" Alan asks, squatting next to Mary. She just shakes her head, sobbing.

Keith bends over to offer his handkerchief, and Maria's hands crackle involuntarily with magic as she shoves him away, backing further into the bookshelf.

"Don't," she spits at him through her tears. "Just give me a minute and wait over there."

Sophia taps her on the arm cautiously, pointing at Maria's side. "Are you injured?"

"No," she says, immediately knowing it to be true despite the slash and liberal coating of drying blood on her side. "I'm just… shocked."

"Was it the book?" asks Sophia, something dark and almost knowing in her eyes, and Maria hesitates.

"I don't see how it could be anything else," Maria confirms after thinking it over for a few moments.

"Was it that surprising?" inquires Geordo, more than a little concerned yet smug amusement in his voice, as if she’s simply hysterical, and him so sure of what she's seen. He's still over by the table, the book lying innocently behind him.

Maria takes a deep breath, trying to control her ire. "Considering I just witnessed you murder Lady Katarina, I'd say so," she bites out with just a touch of vindictiveness, watching as he pales and falls back into his chair.

Mary makes an absolutely feral noise, the kind that promises immediate and painful drowning, and both Alan and Maria clamp down on her arms to hold her in place.

"Explain," Geordo croaks out, and Maria does.

Chapter Text

"There's no way any of that is gonna happen," argues Alan immediately when Maria finishes recounting her ordeal. "Freakish future-telling book or no."

Sophia nods in agreement, though she still looks concerned and unsure. "Lady Katarina adores you, Maria. She'd never assault you in such a way."

Keith hasn’t said a word, pallid and stone-faced for once, his face usually so expressive and now empty. If he wasn’t clutching his handkerchief so tightly, Maria doubts she would have thought he had heard her story at all.

She feels a little guilty for her reaction earlier. "Truthfully, I agree. And I certainly can't picture Lord Keith lashing out like that, much less against Katarina and on my behalf."

"And yet," Geordo bites out icily, staring Keith down with an eyebrow raised, "between the two of us, only one has actually attacked Katarina previously in the exact manner Maria described."

"How dare you," Keith rasps, utterly infuriated and flinging himself across the table at the third prince with surprising speed. Maria can only watch in helpless surprise as Keith, snarling with a touch of frenetic neurosis, full-heartedly attempts to seemingly strangle Geordo with his own cape.

The door bursts open suddenly, and what's left of the Student Council is treated to Katarina's confused expression as she takes in Keith's hands fisted in Geordo's cape. The third prince is leaning forward and propping himself up with the table to prevent the aforementioned strangulation, even as Keith continues to bend backward over it, seemingly pinned. Abruptly, Katarina's eyes clear, and she shuts the door behind her with a decisive snap.

"Not that I don't approve, and I'm happy for you both," Katarina starts, an odd flush creeping up her cheeks, "but, um, should you really be doing this during Student Council hours? With… witnesses?"

Sophia snickers suddenly from her seat at the far end of the table, though Maria has no idea why, and Keith untangles his fingers from the fabric of Geordo's cape. 

"You're right, dear sister," replies Keith, and he makes a show of smoothing out the wrinkled red beneath his fingertips. "The sentiments I hold for the Prince are best expressed in a more… private setting." 

Keith's eyes are promising a lot more dirt in unpleasant areas involved in Geordo's future, but Sophia is now losing it entirely and has ducked under the table, cackling. Maria looks at Alan, and he shrugs, equally bewildered.

Mary takes a polite sip of her tea, eyes scalding over Keith and Geordo, and somehow Maria knows that she also hasn't forgotten what the third prince has said.

---

They meet again during Student Council hours the next day, an unspoken agreement in place - both not to discuss the book around Katarina and that it was to remain in Maria's possession overnight. Given that she has already experienced its horrors, she cannot deny the iota of sense in it. 

Even though the book has yet to react again, she loathes to touch the thing and places it as far away as possible when they settle in at the table.

“So, what’s the plan? Because I think we need a plan,” Sophia starts. She’s sitting primly at the Student Council table, with her hands steepled in front of her, in fine contrast to her behavior yesterday.

“We’re not doing anything,” Geordo replies, with all the care of a man utterly sure of himself. “Because nothing is going to happen.”

“No, try again,” says Sophia patiently.

“For what it’s worth, I agree with Sophia,” adds Keith, raising his hand.

“Of course you would.” Maria is stunned to realize that Prince Geordo is practically sulking.

She clears her throat. “Perhaps a vote? I think we need to do something, at least.”

“As do I,” Mary declares.

Alan shrugs, then admits, “I want Katarina safe, though.”

The grin on Sophia’s face is one of a predator smelling blood. “We’re all in agreement, then,” she says happily, and Geordo sighs.

“This isn’t necessary,” he insists.

There is often, Maria thinks, a weird duality to Sophia. The one who is most shy in her desires, who craves to express them. Yet from the incident with the Book of Desires, as they have taken to calling it, perhaps Sophia is one of their group that knows most ardently what she wishes.

The events with Katarina's unnatural sleep and Sirius's - Raphael's - dark magic have only further emboldened Sophia, though not in a way Maria would have expected. She's more outspoken, certainly. She's also far more likely to guide the group through certain viewpoints in such a way that Katarina usually grasps with surprising alacrity, even before the rest of them. Her willingness to discuss other things than schoolwork and novels has grown as well.

And when it comes to protecting Katarina, Sophia is unyielding .

"We can go back and forth over this issue all day, but the fact remains, we need to take it seriously that at least one of us has seen a future - or futures," Sophia amends, "where Katarina dies."

"And that's not happening. I won't allow it." Mary stands up and slams her hand onto the table, crushing the book underneath a tad viciously. "I refuse . I wish to see this future myself if I must." 

Mary's already blurred out and back in before any of them realize it. She comes back paler than Maria did and thankfully not as bloodstained, and Maria curses herself for putting the contemptible thing back out on the table. Mary shoves the book away angrily and glares at Maria accusingly.

"You left out the part where you seduce both Geordo and Keith."

"What?!" Maria practically yelps, even as she hears Keith doing the same.

"That's… no," insists Keith, now looking incredibly red and possibly flustered. "I'm flattered, but…."

"Likewise," Maria blurts out, sagging in relief. She turns to Geordo and nearly flinches at the contemplative look he's giving her.

"There's no accounting for fictitious tastes, I suppose," he says airily as if to wipe away his assessment of her, and Maria isn't sure if she should be put at ease, further concerned, or mildly insulted. 

Though after a moment of reflection, the thought of Geordo's possessive ardor directed at her is enough to make her grateful not to be the object of his affections. Especially when he's too willing to kill for it. But then, is that so different from his behavior now?

Chapter Text

After Mary's little jaunt and revelation, everybody had seemed more than willing to drop the discussion for another day since, despite book evidence to the contrary, no one actually was planning on killing Katarina. Sophia had protested but eventually conceded that perhaps the ramifications of that are best left for another day. They did still have Student Council duties, unfortunately.

It's only the click of the lock that has Maria tiredly looking up, having assumed that everyone truly was leaving after another afternoon of getting end-of-school affairs in order. She had been looking forward to maybe an early night and actually getting some sleep if her brain had finally stopped being horrified long enough after the visuals from yesterday.

Instead, Mary is resting against the door, arms crossed and staring at her.

"Lady Mary?" Despite herself, Maria can't help feeling a touch of nervousness. Mary certainly never treated Maria as lesser, but she knew the woman was fierce in several ways.

Mary's eyes drift to the table and the book. "I know Sophia adores the things, but I've never been the most pleased with books. Almanacs and maps, certainly, but books in general…." She curls her lip as she approaches and sits down next to Maria. "And this year, they've given you and me far more trouble than I believe they're worth."

Indeed, Maria doubts that Mary and herself will forget their previous encounter with a magical book this year so quickly and doubly wishes she could do so after this new incident with the apparently cursed volumes of Sorcier. Between everyone's desires and a murderous future, this is not quite the tale of first love Maria expected to be woven for her tapestry of life.

Her face is already reddening, but she can't help asking. "You mentioned Keith and Prince Geordo and me. What exactly did you see?" Maria would rather face Raphael again than learn that Mary witnessed any intimate moments involving herself and the two men, despite said moments being fictional.

Mary's distaste turns into a playful smirk as she threads her fingers together beneath her chin. She rests her head on her hands as she leans towards Maria with an impish grin.

"Well, I didn't want poor Alan's brain to implode, so I left out the part where you charm the obliviousness out of him."

The squeak she lets out almost captures her level of mortification.

“And Sophia would never let you be if she knew of the way Master Nicol had taken to following you around like a dapper duckling.” Oh, Lady Mary is enjoying herself far too much.

Maria lets herself slump to the table, resigned to the ongoing torture. “Good heavens,” she mutters, as if in a daze.

“Really, it’s caused me to have to re-evaluate a few things,” Mary says briskly, and Maria creeps an eye open to peer at her. “To think, Lady Katarina being the only thing stopping you from being a complete tart was not the sort of revelation I was expecting.”

Maria slams her eye closed again and groans. Yes, this was her life now. Where is Sir - Raphael and his accursed paperwork when she needs him?

Mary lets out a final chuckle and then rubs Maria’s back comfortingly. “I apologize. You so rarely give me a reason to tease you.”

It’s friendly and not at all cutting, and Maria sits up after a moment, but still not quite willing to meet Mary’s eyes just yet. “I can… see it happening. If not for Katarina.”

“Pardon?”

"That first week, there was a moment. I was just walking down the hall. I happened to look over, and Lady Katarina was just looking back at me. She stopped right in the middle of the hallway and just stared. She looked… poleaxed. Like - this is going to sound ridiculous," says Maria, but Mary nods encouragingly. "Like her very understanding of her place in this world was dependent on figuring out me ."

"I felt… seen," Maria finishes softly. "For the first time in a long time."

"Ah. Katarina has that effect," says Mary, smiling wryly behind her teacup. "Though it sounds like it might be the first time Katarina shared in the reaction. I think you had it rougher than us, growing up without her. We all had each other as we moved about the noble circles, and if you ask her mother, Katarina usually made us look good by comparison if not association."

Mary looks up at the ceiling and sighs, but it's more chagrined than exasperated. "I also think it gives you a far better chance than the rest of us want to admit."

Maria barely avoids choking on her tea. "What?"

"Oh, don't misunderstand me," Mary chirps, "Prince Geordo is still the thorny underside of my rosebush, but no one expected someone new coming in this late to capture Katarina's attention as you have. It would be quite vexing if you weren't so charming and preoccupied."

Maria can only blink rapidly. "I didn't realize." She's not sure she does now, either.

"Oh, I'm aware. You, Alan, and Katarina are my favorite triplicity for a reason," Mary replies fondly. "But the fact is, you might be the dark horse here." Mary pauses. "Well, you or Sophia. She's been making odd moves lately, and no one else is really paying attention. Truthfully it's a little concerning."

Maria resolves to address her Sophia concerns with Mary another day. "What do I have in common with Prince Alan and Lady Katarina?"

Mary pats her hand. "You'll figure it out, especially before those two." Then she taps her fan against the table. "Just don't monopolize Katarina's time once you realize your way in, hmm? Unless Prince Geordo is around."

Perplexed, Maria opens her mouth to speak, then hesitates. 

But my in is sweets. 

Eyebrows still furrowed, Maria pointedly closes her mouth, much to Mary's seeming amusement.

Lady Mary has been more generous with her insight than usual this evening. It's only fair that Maria behaves a little more reticent, just to balance things out. If Mary wanted Maria to take this as anything less than a tacit suggestion to be just a tad more selfish, perhaps she should have been more explicit in expressing exactly what it was that Maria was too preoccupied to notice, especially in regards to Katarina. Maria surely would have corrected her then.

"I'll keep that in mind, Mary," she says finally, with just a trace of awkwardness, but Mary just gives her a simpering grin and pats her hand again before finally departing.

Chapter Text

Even with the brief glimpse of that other Katarina, Maria can't quite reconcile the two. Physically, yes, even their dress is the same. But nothing she's noticed indicates that these are somehow the same Katarina. The way they carry themselves and talk are two more big distinctions that Maria can’t quite wrap her head around. Maybe they are, but somehow they aren’t.

She's doing her rounds, checking that now vacant classrooms have been locked, materials put away, rooms cleared of possessions. 

She'd still been surprised when Katarina asked to accompany her and had glanced around the Student Council room instinctively.

Alan hadn't cared, of course, and Maria couldn't help but appreciate his considerable chill since it balanced out the deadpan stare Mary was drilling her with. Keith, predictably, was embroiled in a discussion with Prince Geordo, though he did wave lazily at them.

Sophia had… pointed at her eyes, and then Maria? She wasn't sure what that meant, but Katarina had clapped her hands, laughing at the gesture, before pulling Maria out of the room.

"And then Anne sighed at me again . Twice in ten minutes! That's a lot worse than when Mother sighs because she only does it once before - "

Maria stops listening because the quickest route to her next destination is down the upcoming hallway, and she has never desired to revisit a place less. She's contemplating just how to convince Katarina to take the longer route. Maybe if she just acts like the halfway isn't there?

Except that's precisely what Katarina herself does, without even pausing in her description of every live snake that has made its abode on the grounds of the Claes estate. Maria can only blink as Katarina, having firmly entwined her arm in Maria's elbow as they approach the dreaded hall, practically glides them passed. She's back to gesturing with her hands the next instant, as if she never noticed the hallway at all.

Was that… intentional?

---

It's definitely intentional.

She'd mustered up the courage to loop back by the hallway on their return, and Katarina had repeated her actions, clinging to Maria while asking her for the precise ingredient measurements of her cookies.

"I'll just have to come make them for you over break," Maria says, but her thoughts are less baking and more baffling.

Why is she just now noticing that Katarina avoids this hall?

"Wow, I didn't think my question would stump you that much."

“I’m sorry?” Maria shakes her head. “I didn’t quite hear you, Lady Katarina.”

Katarina looks at her with concern as she guides them down the hall. “It can wait. Are you okay, Maria?”

“Just a little tired.”

“Well, let’s get you back to the Student Council so you can sit down.”

A bed would be preferable at this point, and it’s tempting to ask Katarina to take her to one. She’s not sure how their friends would react, though, so that’s not happening, and she lets Katarina lead her back to their friends.

---

"Hey," Alan says, and Maria shoots upright in her seat as a few cold droplets hit the back of her neck. She blinks blearily at him. "Seriously, go rest those eyebags, Campbell."

Beside him, Mary facepalms. "Don't be rude, Alan. Especially not to Maria."

Maria thinks he is going to scowl, but instead, he simply looks at Mary in confusion. "I'm just trying to help. She's being stubborn." He crosses his arms. "You'd be this out of sorts if you saw Katarina get shanked and smashed too, Mary."

Maria can't help the surprised noise. "Did you not…?" She trails off, but Mary shakes her head, contrite yet noticeably relieved.

"I missed that part of the confrontations. I was too far away to see anything clearly except Keith's golem." That part of the Academy houses the lecture halls, bigger than their standard classrooms, so the hallways are longer too. Mary must have been towards the other end, Maria assumes.

Keith looks down at the table again, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes, and Maria winces. There’s some purpling under his eyes as well, and though his clothes still look meticulous, his hair is a tad more rumpled than usual, so he’s probably in the same boat she is. Maria wonders if he’s gotten any more sleep than she has, especially after what Geordo revealed the day before yesterday.

She clears her throat. "Mary brought up an interesting point the other night. Master Nicol was still a student here during her interaction with the book."

"But he's graduated," Keith says immediately, clearly startled, and Maria nods. 

"Wait," Alan interjects. "Then what's the stupid thing showing if it's not the future?"

"I don't know." Maria shrugs. “But figuring that out seems like the next logical step.” She hesitates. “There’s something else. Lady Katarina avoids that hallway.”

“Are you sure?” Keith looks even more concerned at that.

“She practically dragged me past it earlier today, as if it doesn’t exist. Lady Katarina didn’t even look in that direction.”

Mary taps her fan in her hand thoughtfully. “She’s never attended any of the lectures in that hall, either. Even when that agricultural specialist she was excited about was here.”

“I’m sure my sister just realized he was more a businessman than a farmer.” Alan gives him a disappointed frown, and Keith admits, “Okay, probably not.”

The four of them are silent for a few minutes. Maria assumes the others are processing Katarina’s strangely knowing behavior. She’s halfway to nodding off again when Alan stands up.

“I’m going to let Geordo and Sophia know. They’re the brains around here, after all.”

“Alan, we’re the top six students of our year, dear. We’re all brains,” Mary says, smiling affectionately. “It takes at least that many - plus Master Nicol - to keep up with our Katarina.”

Alan huffs. “You knew what I meant.” He gives Keith a friendly pat on the shoulder and exchanges a weird handshake with his fiancee that looks more like a fist bump in Maria’s blurry eyes. He’s halfway through the action of leaning over her when Maria blinks up at him sleepily, and he freezes. “Go to bed, Campbell,” he orders before straightening up and heading out the door.

Chapter Text

Waking up to his sister is an event Keith welcomes, no matter how it occurs or how little sleep he got the night before.

Katarina pokes him in the chest again, the way she used to analyze grubs in her garden. “You’ve been neglecting your big sister.” Behind her, Anne is holding her head in exasperation at her behavior, but she’s also smiling.

He thinks of Anne like a sparrow sometimes, remembers far too often how the bird had not an ounce of power against his brothers but had protected its young even when it risked being broken and bleeding. 

If Anne is that sparrow, caring for Katarina, then he knows that she would shield his sister with her very body if it came down to it. So, naturally, he has to look out for both of them. Of course, just by pure luck, Katarina usually does a good enough job looking out for all three of them. She’s a veritable force of nature, far more than his earth magic at its prime. 

---

Were it not for the fact that they all love Katarina, he’s not sure he would understand any of his friends. For the longest time, he could only look and see danger, yet another person that might steal his first real experience with sunlight away. Keith gets along better with the girls. He doesn’t understand them, necessarily, but he can interact with them a lot easier. 

Geordo, Alan, Nicol. They’ve all been close and had their own friendship. Keith had hoped, perhaps, that Sirius - oh, but it made sense now that Raphael would have kept his distance.

Maybe Keith should start a social club for maligned and suspected bastards. He could be president and give Raphael a break from the paperwork by making him treasurer or something. Maria can be his vice president. Keith supposes he could give Mary an honorary position as secretary if he must, though her sisters don’t trouble her much nowadays. Anne is a given; Keith would not leave her behind in this endeavor like she was an unwanted turnip.

Katarina. He would say he knows her best, but Keith also feels like he understands her the least, compared to their friends. He can see their motivations, sometimes, can predict their decisions with startling clarity, like the stream they would fish in when little. But Katarina is mud, thick and opaque and tacky until it gets all over his clothes and down into his heart where it doesn’t harden. Instead, it preserves, beating, beating, each beat nestling a little more stably into its place until it can’t be wiped away without scraping painfully.

---

Objectively, Katarina is the best thing to ever happen to him. She had taken his poor malnourished heart and tended to him with all the care she would show any vegetable, until Keith has no choice but to flourish. He would have willingly become her clay just to see Katarina smile as she sculpted him. Keith supposes that, in a way, she did, just not as heavy-handed as he had grown to expect by that point as a child. Her insistence that he always mind his manners around ladies shaped him, and he had molded himself to her expectations.

Subjectively, she’s also the best thing to happen to him, that’s still true, too - but she also brought Prince Geordo into his life, which is a blight upon his field Keith struggles to reconcile every day. 

Geordo is not vermin - though it is a very near thing, sometimes.

There are days when Keith wants Geordo entirely out of sight, and days when he would like nothing more than to punch until he sees blood dribbling from the corner of Geordo’s smug mouth into the dirt. 

Keith is a very powerful earth mage. He can’t lose control, because it would be disastrous.

And sometimes, there are days when Geordo is tolerable, and his hair is truly golden. He’s not waving his engagement to Katarina about like a quarrelsome neighbor arguing that actually, the surveyor said his property ended five feet into Keith’s field.

Keith is a very powerful earth mage. Any attempts to move the field must be made so carefully, precisely.

Upsetting Katarina would only push her towards one of their friends. At best, Sophia, who he suspects would understand and respect the deep sibling bond they share. At worst, Geordo, who just barely managed to beat Keith to first.

The fact that Keith would have never been the Claes heir without Geordo is irrelevant.

Keith hasn’t been sleeping well. And he’s tempted more every day to give up ironclad control and surround his field with a ring of earth. He is, after all, a very powerful earth mage.

---

He'd thought, initially, that Maria would balance them out a little more. Even in the Student Council, her presence might make them a little more even.

Alan, Katarina, and Mary never back down and charge headfirst into anything, the baying hounds that pursue and never stop.

Geordo and Nicol - and Raphael - all prefer to analyze and wait for their moments to strike from above like a bird of prey. 

Keith and Sophia are the rabbits. They freeze up if cornered, alone and frightened. He’d thought, based on the bullying, that Maria would be the same.

And then Maria had to make the boneheaded choice to confront Raphael alone - a poor decision Katarina ended up unknowingly repeating, and that sealed it.

The hounds had another one.

The fast friendships with Katarina and Mary - Katarina is understandable. But Mary, Mary is wary about letting anyone new too close these days, always calculating and his staunch ally against Geordo’s brutish machinations. She gets along very well with Alan, too, though Maria doesn’t seem to understand that yet. It’s not that she’s reticent with the rest of them, and Maria gets along with everyone with almost the same level of charm as Katarina.

And now Sophia is leaving him behind too. She’s not freezing up as much, hesitating less, and being more direct. It makes Keith feel that much more disappointed in himself, that he can only subvert instead of express. He’s cursed (blessed) with an unfortunate handicap to furthering his relationship with Katarina; to fall even further behind is something he can’t abide by, he decides.

Katarina is still smiling at him, and he decides. He will despise it with every inch of his being, but he has to see it. 

Keith needs to get his hands on that book.

Chapter Text

It’s only been three days since Maria watched Katarina die, but she feels like she’s running out of time. 

There are only a few days left before the Student Council - and Katarina - are set to return home, paperwork finally finished for this academic year. If they’re going to solve the mysteries of this book, it needs to be soon. 

The taste of blood in her mouth every time she wakes up pales in comparison to the vice of fear slowly gripping her heart. Why does Katarina always seem to be the target?

Sure, it’s only been one effort and an incoherent mess of a book-induced fictional attempt, but they’re fifteen. And now that Maria is hopelessly entangled with this group, she’s hoping it’s not an indicator of the rest of their lives.

Well, it probably is, but at least she has friends now.

“So, what are our options?” asks Mary. “Since none of us are going to just… walk away from Lady Katarina.” Maria thinks she almost sounds disappointed.

“Nope,” adds Alan. “I do think we need more backstory, though. How did things get to this point in the book-world?”

Mary taps her finger against her chin. “Well, Prince Geordo and Lady Katarina are still engaged, from what I could gather. But Keith, you, Nicol, and Geordo were all in love with Maria. That Katarina hated Maria and tried to kill her over Geordo. Then Geordo - or Keith,” she pats his hand as Keith stiffens next to her, “murdered Katarina. For some inexplicable reason.”

“Jealousy’s a pretty strong emotion,” reasons Sophia. “Not worth killing over, but people have done it.” She makes a disgusted face, sneering. “Crimes of passion if you must.”

There’s a moment of silence before Alan snaps. “Fine, I’ll say it. Most of us would kill for Katarina. Obviously, not each other, but we’re not going to hesitate to drop a body or two for her protection. And we’re certainly not going to kill her, either. So why is this world different?”

Maria thinks about protesting then clears her throat. “Is it possible those are our worst selves?”

Sophia’s face lights up. “Yes! A mirror-verse! We’re all probably hostile and opportunistic over there.” She pauses. “I’m going to look dreadful with a goatee, though.”

“A counterpoint,” interrupts Geordo, shooting Sophia a confused look. “Perhaps there’s just an origin of change that affects all of us? Considering that Keith has yet to attempt to murder that Geordo.”

“Or Mary,” Alan adds immediately, and Geordo’s eye twitches.

“Or Lady Hunt,” he agrees.

“You’re very murderable,” notes Mary brightly, leaning forward to grin at him. “Or, other Geordo, I mean.”

Keith clears his throat. “Murderability of the… alternate third prince aside, I think it’s clear that we need more information. Perhaps if I - ”  

“I don’t think that’s wise,” Maria interjects, scooping the book up before Keith can touch it. “Given the knowledge Mary relayed, it seems I was an active participant in the events leading up to that… incident. Accordingly, it threw me right into that role. I don’t think you should be subjected to that, Keith.” She shoots a look over his shoulder. “Nor you, Prince Geordo.”

Keith swallows with some difficulty, curling his reaching fingers and averting his gaze. “You’re probably right. Perhaps later, maybe, but. I’m not ready to face that possibility just yet.” He mutters something Maria can’t understand, though.

“It can wait,” Geordo agrees politely, with a distracted look of contemplation in his eyes.

"Guess that leaves me then," Alan states.

"I could - " starts Sophia, but Alan very distinctly sets his feet on the floor so that his boots make a loud thump! She blows a raspberry at him in response.

---

“Sorry for being rude,” apologizes Alan as soon as he’s back, and Maria just blinks at him. “Right, never mind.”

“So?” she prompts, impatient.

“It was weird,” Alan says immediately, locking eyes with Mary. “You were pretending to be in love with me, and I don’t think I care for it.”

“Charming,” she mutters but equally perturbed. “And Katarina?”

“Oh, very dead,” he adds.

Alan turns to face Geordo, who looks resigned at this point. “Did you have to stab her the second time?” The odd way he mimes the thrust would remind Maria of a child poking a frog with a stick, were it not for the image of Katarina’s blood spray superimposing itself from her memory.

“I,” replies Geordo stiffly, “would never stab her at all.”

“You absolutely despised her. Not without reason, though,” adds Alan. "Kat - other Kat - refused to break off your engagement. You didn't put up much of a fight against it until Maria showed up. And that felt unnaturally wrong, let me tell you. I nearly beat you up several times for going after Maria."

Geordo hums and cuts him off, completely irritated. He makes a casual gesture in her direction.  "Well, if you want to pursue Maria in this world, by all means."

"No!"

"Absolutely not." Alan and Mary say at the same time, trading looks.

"No," Alan repeats stubbornly. "Maria is like… family?" He scrubs his fingers through his hair. "Ugh, I wish Nicol was here to help me explain."

Sophia smiles at Alan, clearly touched by the unwitting comparison, but Maria sits frozen.

"Sophia, words," begs Alan as he tugs at the collar of his coat.

"I think you explained it well enough," Sophia says gently, prying his fingers loose from their stranglehold at his throat.

The softness of her friends, in comparison to their stations, overwhelms her, and Maria excuses herself, quickly making her way outside. It's not the first time, and she's quite sure it won't be the last either. 

Less and less frequently, they catch her off guard. A lifetime of wariness around people works against her. Especially since, before the Academy, the kinds of nobles that would stop by the Campbell house every so often to try to claim her were her only interaction with the higher born. Only Ministry interference had kept Maria with her mother. 

While Maria had wanted to find kinship at the Academy, she hadn't expected to find a closeness that could be considered familial. She doesn't have experience with a sibling bond. Even Mary, whose sisters are notoriously difficult, has more familiarity with the subject than she does.

Her mother begged her father once, just after Maria’s light magic manifested, for the chance to prove her fidelity. She'd promised him a son, one that matched Maria's abilities, consummate proof of her loyalty. Hesitantly, he'd agreed. 

Her father had disappeared not long after, driven away by his own lack of faith, and no sibling was ever born.

She's sitting under the tree where Geordo first found her, contemplating Alan's words, when Raphael walks up to her. Maria only notices when he blocks out the sunlight.

"Are we planning the revolution already?" Raphael quips, "or does something else have you thinking so hard, Miss Maria?"

"Master Raphael, you're going to get yourself arrested again if you keep greeting me like that."

He laughs, dropping his disguise as he sits next to her. "Never in public and in my appearance, I assure you, Maria." Wordlessly, he pulls a steaming teapot from his satchel and hands her a cup. "A magical tool," Raphael clarifies when he notices her curious look. "And please, just Raphael. We're not that different, after all. Murderous impulses aside."

"Can you make a person murder someone else?" She blurts, and Raphael blinks. 

"You are literally the last person out of our Student Council that I expected to ask me that." 

"With dark magic."

"Assuming I still had it in my possession…." Raphael furrows his brow, thinking. “And the person I was influencing already loathed the target, I suppose it is possible.” He holds out a biscuit wordlessly, and she snaps it in half. Raphael grins as they compare the two and his piece is marginally larger. “I’ve always been of the opinion that while dark magic manipulates the mind, light magic does so with the body. Neither works with something that isn’t there, only enhances what can be,” he continues.

“You’ve thought about this a lot, then,” Maria comments, chewing thoughtfully.

“Of course. Great minds are necessary for innovation. If you have them, the bodies will follow.”

“Please stop plotting insurrection while we are together,” orders Maria, and he grins sheepishly.

“Just this once,” he promises. Raphael lifts a hand in greeting as the others approach.

“Oh, you’re here early,” Mary frets, setting her own tea tray down. “We really need your assistance.”

“Nicol will be along soon, he had a few things to finish up. And not to worry, Lady Hunt. Miss Maria was just asking if I could murder someone for her,” Raphael replies cheerfully, smiling brightly behind his teacup.

Sophia leans in suddenly, and Maria can’t stop herself from backing up against the tree. Her friend claps her hands as she straightens back up.

“Well, I don’t see a goatee yet, so I think we’re fine for now, right Maria?” she says, winking, as bubbly as Raphael.

"The day's still young," Maria ventures timidly, and Mary practically coos. Maria blinks as Alan starts laughing, bent over. It makes his typically sharp and cool features look softer. She's seen him laugh several times like this over something Katarina has done, but never because of her. It's nice, Maria decides, tamping down on the lingering emotions from earlier.

"Ooh, Raphael, you have to help me nurture that hidden vicious streak," says Mary, swapping her teacup for one with his tea instead.

"I'm retired," he shoots back immediately. "But maybe a little, just to help her get some even footing." Alan and Sophia stop laughing.

Maybe Maria has been too optimistic about their hopefully murder-free futures.

Another thought occurs to her.

"Where are Lord Keith and Prince Geordo?"

Chapter Text

He hasn't gone as far as she feared, merely stopping around the corner to lean against the wall outside the door. Maria doesn't say anything as she mimics his position. Despite every ounce of his usual control, there's something entirely raw about his unrestrained panting.

“It hasn’t quite felt real, I suppose,” Geordo finally admits softly. “But seeing it….” He trails off and flexes his fingers instead, looking perhaps as if the weight of his sword was still there. 

"You shouldn't have had to see that. "

"No." Geordo shakes his head. "This was necessary, at least on my part. It's been grating this past year. Like my friends suddenly see me as this depraved being waiting for a moment to pounce. Kiss or kill, it doesn't matter. We'd all grown up together, and I thought they understood me better. But after this, I'm not sure they're quite wrong anymore."

"I think I was," says Maria, and Geordo shakes his head.

"I wasn't including you; you’re too sweet to think poorly of anyone."

"I thought badly of all nobles and royals, and then I met you, and Katarina, and everyone else," Maria replies dryly and remarkably candid with him for the first time. "But the prince giving me directions when I was about to climb a tree was the first to treat me kindly when he had no reason to do so."

"Thanks to Katarina's influence," Geordo points out.

"Did she ask that of you?"

Geordo pauses. "She used to call me black-hearted and cruel when she thought no one could hear. I… refused to let someone think such negative things about me without cause and adjusted accordingly. It became easier over the years."

"Being kind?" Maria asks. Most people do seem to struggle with that in her experience. She files Katarina's description away for another day, despite her instinct that Geordo isn't being entirely honest.

"Pretending to be. I am indolent with improving this aspect of my humanity, though I've taken greater pains not to show it around Katarina." He makes a weak, helpless gesture that looks wrong against his royal finery and bearing. 

Maria shrugs, now further convinced. "Is it not the same thing?"

Geordo shakes his head immediately. "It's not."

Maria hums, not sure how to persuade him. She's certain neither of them is currently up for a philosophical debate of ego versus self-esteem, much less kindness and expressions of love. "We'll just have to disagree on that for now," she says, and he chuckles, a lighter noise than his drained appearance a few minutes ago.

“You really do fit in better than I expected of you,” notes Geordo, and Maria is back to being unsure if she’s been insulted or not. She’s still pondering this when he startles her by reaching out and rubbing her head affectionately. “Thank you, Miss Maria.”

Raphael rounds the corner and pauses. He squints as Geordo's hand retreats, then shakes his head when Maria shrugs helplessly at him. "The others have managed to calm Keith and get him cleaned up." 

---

Keith looks noticeably better than the last time Maria saw him before she went to find the third prince. So, frankly, he still looks like a man haunted, but not one in the throes of an anxiety attack, at least.

"Geordo," Nicol says, standing from his position next to Keith, and Maria startles, having missed his presence entirely. The corner of his mouth twitches just the smallest amount at her jump. 

"You're mad at me," intuits Geordo immediately, and Nicol hums in response.

Maria clears her throat and focuses past them, where Alan is quirking a brow at her while Keith leans into his side, still situated in the corner on the floor. She shoots a look at the fourth prince in response, and he nods once. Maria’s pleased to see that Keith takes a sip from the water glass that Mary is holding out for him.

Maria promptly scoops the book up from the table and Sophia’s reaching fingers, who pouts at her.

---

"So, people keep seeing Lady Katarina's death every time the book is activated. And despite being a future-telling book, this has not changed despite repeated viewings," summarizes Raphael, once everyone has calmed down.

"We're still no closer to figuring out how to protect Lady Katarina," Maria adds.

"I think I might have an answer," cuts in Sophia, next to Nicol. Geordo inclines his head, and she continues, pulling out her journal, "I read once about a book that told the future, but only as it should naturally occur. In fact, a noble used to use it to run a sort-of gambling con."

"How so?"

"He'd bet against other nobles on the outcome of, well, everything. A ruling by the king, the harvest for next year, the outcome of a tournament. They'd bet outrageous sums on literally anything. Eventually, people would even pay him to make predictions for them. In reality, he would just ask the book and it would show him. "

Geordo nods thoughtfully. "That could be a really lucrative venture. So what happened? I've never heard of this noble."

Sophia waves a hand. "It was a long time ago, before we were born. And, eventually, he lost a bet worth everything."

"That sounds like a noble, arrogant and greedy," notes Raphael. He smiles demurely. "Present company excluded, of course."

"What was the bet?" Mary asks, and Maria notices that her fan is gripped tightly. 

"The next ruler of Sorcier," says Sophia, and Alan whistles. “The man believed that forces outside of the natural order of fate had interfered and proclaimed that only an unnatural intervention not of this world could interrupt what was preordained. He cited his failed prediction as one such instance and claimed to have used his book to find proof.”

Sophia paused.

“Under the order of the King, he was promptly arrested and beheaded for fomenting treason.”

“Our father, then,” Geordo comments, nodding in satisfaction at Sophia’s confirmation.

“He claimed that another of the Stuarts was supposed to ascend to the throne had the intervention not happened. And that the future predicted by the book would corroborate his statement.”

"This book is likely from his estate then," says Nicol. 

"Most likely," agrees Sophia. "And it's showing us what should have happened, not what will."

"But if it was already supposed to have occurred, as we know by Nicol being present, why is it still showing up as a future?" asks Keith. 

Sophia shrugs. "Maybe all the book knows is that it's supposed to happen but hasn't yet?"

Alan snorts. "So it's broken then."

Sophia shrugs again at that.

Maria clears her throat. "And you think some otherworldly interference course-corrected our lives?" It isn't that she entirely disputes the concept. Maria is more than willing to accept some sort of intervention if it keeps Katarina alive and healthy - mortal, divine, or otherwise.

"No. I think one of us - or Katarina herself - changed it." Sophia leans forward as if to drive her following words home. "I don't have any evidence. Less than, even, but I'm almost sure of it."

Raphael taps on the table. "Present company is the next generation that will literally guide the future of this nation. I suppose it's not impossible, through force of will and desire. You - we all - definitely have the strength of character to manage it."

“And we’re all secretly a bunch of feral hellions,” Mary adds.

Alan facepalms. "Why do people think I'm the wild one in this engagement when you constantly say nonsense like that?"

"Because I'm also the charming one," replies Mary, and Maria feels a burst of affection for her. "And you never discourage me."

"I know better," mutters Alan. "Soph, you're saying we basically pulled off a miracle and bamboozled fate. That's a flimsy argument at best."

Sophia pins him with a look. "Do you have a better idea, Alan?"

"No. But I want to be sure before we, y'know, risk Katarina."

Maria doesn't have to look around to feel how everyone sobers at that.

Chapter Text

Raphael is giving her a scrutinizing look as he pours the tea, habit ensuring not a drop is spilled, and it makes Maria itch. She’s torn between ignoring his stare entirely and immediately addressing it when he speaks.

“I’m actually insulted, you know,” he says casually, and she notices that he prepares Nicol’s tea perfectly without even looking at the cup, eyes still fixed intently on her. “Am I not worthy of seduction, Miss Maria?”

Maria nearly drops her tray. Her mouth feels particularly dry all of a sudden. “I’m - I’m not sure. I have little insight into the actions of my counterpart,” she offers weakly, and Raphael hums, a warm smile crossing his face.

“Perhaps,” he agrees. He sets the final cup on the tray, glancing up at Maria. “Or maybe I’m the one that should be doing the seduction this time. I can’t let you and Lady Katarina have all the fun.” His smile is still bright, but Maria startles all the same, staggered by his casual utterance.

A series of knocks at the kitchen door breaks Maria’s stupor, heat flushing through her cheeks as she spots Mary watching them. “I thought you might need a hand, Maria,” she says, but Mary’s eyes are locked onto Raphael’s as she approaches.

“N-no, I’ve got it,” Maria hurriedly assures, rushing from the room as the two redheads seemingly engage in a staring contest of some sort.

“I have something to discuss with you later, Miss Maria!” Raphael calls, and Maria hears Mary hissing at him behind her.

---

Maria shoots Alan a look as soon as she enters the room, and he grunts. “Nicol made a very persuasive argument,” he explains to her unasked question. “Mary didn’t like it very much. She left in a huff to find you.”

Maria nods. “She’s with Raphael in the kitchen.” Alan laughs.

“Yeah, she didn’t much like that either,” he says, still snickering. 

Maria hadn’t considered that Mary would still be bitter with Raphael over the previous events of this year, but it makes some sense. She had always gotten the impression that of their group, the ones to truly hold a grudge would be Mary and Prince Geordo - and, bizarrely, Master Nicol.

Except Mary had been fine earlier when she found Raphael and Maria outside, hadn’t she? She had been laughing with him, and they both enjoyed teasing Maria, after all. So what had -

“Oh, sweets!” Katarina cries from her place beside Alan, and Maria turns herself back to the reason she had started the conversation with him in the first place.

Katarina.

She’s pleased to see that the book is wisely on the far side of the table, undoubtedly far away from any potential mishaps that could risk their beloved friend seeing the worst aspects of most if not all of them. Raphael enters the room just as Maria slips onto her seat, nodding hello to Katarina's muffled greeting. He gives the book a poisonous look but makes no moves towards it, thankfully. Mary shows up at this point, looking none the worse and patting Maria's hand as she slides into her chair beside her. Whatever the issue was, it seems to have resolved itself for now.

---

"That book sounds terrifying," Katarina says immediately, once they fill her in on their current theory of the book. "What if viewing the future it provides locks it into place?"

"I never took you for one to believe in fate, Lady Katarina," Mary replies. 

"It's pretty pessimistic of you," notes Alan. 

"Honestly, I'm afraid of fate," Katarina says, looking at the sweet she's holding pensively. "The idea that no matter what you do, everything will end up following a set route, that might as well be death to me."

There's a pause as if they are holding their breath, waiting for her to explain, but she doesn't elaborate further.

“Regardless,” Geordo continues. “The future shown was… alarming. And after much contemplation, we figured it was best to see if you had any insight.”

“What exactly did you see?” she asks, clearly delighted to be included in this bit of student council work, and they all exchange nervous glances.

Oh.

They're not sharing looks. They're staring at Maria, waiting for her to elaborate. 

Logically, this should make some sense. Maria had the first experience after all. However, Maria can't help feeling some resentment personally that they're burdening her with this.

"The school year is over with, we've passed all the doom flags," mumbles Katarina to herself, and Maria sees Nicol trade a look with a puzzled Sophia. 

"I saw - " Maria bites down hard on her cheek, just enough to center herself. It's a technique reserved exclusively for when she absolutely cannot cry. Katarina is looking at her curiously, though something seems to be lurking in her eyes, which Maria forces herself to meet. Mary squeezes her hand in either support or sympathy. "I watched you die," she manages. "Killed by another."

"Oh, damn, that's still happening?!" Katarina mutters, and they freeze. Geordo sucks in a harsh breath.

"What," he urges in a harsh tone, and Katarina flinches, hand going to her pocket. Geordo rears back suddenly, looking as ill as Maria found him earlier. There's dawning comprehension mixed with dread across his features. "You knew it was me," he whispers, and his eyes track Katarina's as they dart over to Keith. "You knew about both of us," he amends, though there's a creeping apprehension settling into his very posture at the guilt on Keith's face.

“Why wouldn’t you tell us?” demands Keith, looking horrified.

“This isn’t a game, Katarina,” Geordo snaps, though he looks just as shaken as Keith.

“Geordo,” reprimands Alan, throwing an arm over Mary’s shoulder as she scowls at his twin.

Katarina isn’t looking at them anymore but instead studying the table, appearing deep in thought.

“You’re right,” she says slowly, an odd tone to her voice. “It’s not a game. You’re all real people.” Maria flinches as Katarina stands suddenly. "My friends even. And I'm real, too." 

Raphael's brows are furrowed now, and Nicol seems unusually tense. Katarina pulls a snake from her pocket in one smooth motion and tosses it onto the table. Maria can't help marveling at the attention to detail once she ascertains that it is indeed fake, still keeping Katarina in view.

But Katarina isn't looking at any of them, her eyes trained exclusively on the third prince. "Could you guys give me a few minutes with Prince Geordo?"

Maria startles to find that not only Mary had risen from her seat in protest, but Nicol as well. Keith, she notices, looks far too ashamed to think about insisting. Raphael has an unreadable expression as Katarina raises her hands. "Just a few minutes," she asks again, and none of them can really deny her, not when she has never asked for such a thing before.

The door slips shut behind them with the quietest click Maria can remember.

Chapter Text

She's walking along with Mary, arms entwined as they - somewhat impatiently - make circuits around the student council room when they overhear it.

"I told you before; you don't need to keep the engagement for my sake, Prince Geordo. My scar is completely gone."

Neither of them risks looking at the room, but they hear the squeak Katarina makes.

"Really, Katarina, you insult me. You know I have to take responsibility for such a defect." Maria hears an actual note of desperation in Geordo's voice for the first time, though he's masking it well.

The hall is suddenly humid, and Maria tightens her grip on Mary reflexively, dragging the other woman back a few feet lest she surges forward on a conjured tidal wave.

"I'm going to - " starts Mary once they are far enough away, but Maria interrupts her smoothly. 

"Let me handle it?"

Mary eyes her, but it's not threatening. It still makes Maria's stomach swoop uncomfortably, but Mary's expression remains warm and approving.

“You’re not going to seduce him, are you?” teases Mary, reaching out to straighten Maria’s bow affectionately. “I’m very insistent on not losing either of my dear friends to that man.”

Heat splashes across Maria's cheeks. Between Mary and Raphael, the two redheads’ teasing will be the death of her. “That man is your dear friend as well.”

“Yes, but it’s not the same.” Mary reaches up now to cup Maria’s cheeks, still soft. “I’d trust any of us in our group with each others’ lives, but I happen to hold hearts to a higher standard than he has proven he can meet so far.”

The idea of Geordo failing to meet any standard is laughable, but Maria finds her mouth too dry to even attempt a giggle, not when Mary’s looking at her like that. “You still don’t really mean that,” Maria manages eventually after a long moment.

“No, I don’t,” Mary agrees, finally letting go and adjusting her skirt. “But it’s nice to remind someone who will understand what I mean when I say I’m the better option.”

Maria’s not sure she comprehends since Katarina never understands when they say such things to her, but she nods slowly, finally feeling some of the color leaving her face. Mary takes another look at her and sighs immediately.

“The side effects of my tastes are the density of the objects,” she mutters nonsensically. Maria smiles at her uncertainly. “Never mind. Go handle our dear friend the prince, will you?”

That’s the plan, anyway, but Geordo and Nicol find them before Maria can even move.

“Have you seen Katarina?” Geordo asks, looking more at Maria than Mary. “She asked for a moment to herself after we finished talking, so I went to get the others - and yes, I have the book right here, you don’t need to ask,” he finishes, holding up the tome before Mary can even fully open her mouth.

“She was gone when we got back, though,” Nicol summarizes.

Alan rounds the corner with Sophia at that moment. He frowns at his twin. “I thought you were talking with Katarina?”

“I was,” Geordo says tersely. 

Alan shoots the rest of them an unimpressed look. “Well, don’t let them interrupt you.”

“Katarina asked for a moment and wandered off. We’re trying to find her now,” Geordo replies impatiently, turning his attention back to Maria and Mary. “Did you see her?”

“No, she didn’t come this way.”

Geordo hums, then hesitantly admits, “I’m afraid I upset her.”

“You? Never,” Mary drawls, the words poisonously sweet.

Keith frowns as he and Raphael join the growing group. "Where's sister?" he asks, and Maria notices that both their eyes are red, as well as Keith's handkerchief missing.

Geordo pinches his brow. "...Six, seven, eight. Oh good, we're all here now. Then just so everyone is on the same page, Katarina asked for some time and I haven't seen her since. Nor apparently anyone else, somehow." He flicks the book at Raphael, who merely dodges it, entirely unwilling to touch it. "No, she never touched that godforsaken thing. And yes, I probably upset her. No, I'm not commenting further on it right now. Any other questions?"

"Geordo," Alan warns, already pulling his brother's smoking gloves off and dousing them quickly in a nearby vase. Mary makes a disgusted face at the action, but Nicol takes them from Alan without pause as the two boys use their magic to extract the moisture from the material.

Raphael looks utterly puzzled. "Prince Alan… Why not just use water magic for the whole process?"

"I've always done it this way," Alan says defensively, and Maria realizes this probably began when pooling water was difficult for him.

As Keith shakily laughs, Nicol slips the dried gloves back to Geordo, who chooses to pocket them. "I'm sure sister probably just headed back to her room. It's not like she'd just leave, after all."

Maria feels panic, the kind that sprung up seeing Katarina confront Raphael, and then again in the book, clawing at her throat. "Would she?" She demands urgently. 

Mary shakes her head. “She’s Katarina. When has she ever run away from anything that isn't barking?”

“You have spent years trying to convince her to do so,” Nicol points out, and Mary reddens. "You… didn't actually realize that complication, did you?"

“That’s different. That’s running toward our future.” Then, Mary petulantly adds, "Besides, she wants to travel anyways."

“Regardless, she’s not going to run away from this one either.”

---

“Okay, so she did actually run away this time,” Nicol says, nonplussed. The rest of them must look as flabbergasted as he feels, though Geordo has been relatively tight-lipped since Anne let them into Katarina’s room, items strewn across the bed as if in a hurry.

But hide nor hair of Katarina is found, and Anne is staring them down like they are personally at fault and she’s offended on behalf of her mistress.

“So,” Anne breathes, voice even and clutching a sheet of parchment tightly. “You’ve been playing around with a book that shows Lady Katarina’s death, and not one of you thought to inform me?” 

She’s been caretaker to most of this group for a good portion of their lives, Maria realizes, as Anne’s disappointment takes an almost tangible form and the rest of her friends suddenly can’t meet the maid’s eyes.

“We didn’t think - ” Keith starts, but Anne cuts him off immediately.

“That is quite apparent, Lord Keith.” She takes a steadying breath and claps her shaking hands together. “Right. Do any of you have any idea where Katarina might have gone?”

Chapter Text

The point where Anne went from a long-suffering maid to a long-suffering maid can be pinpointed. It might not even surprise anyone.

Katarina’s accident.

Contrary to belief, however, it’s not the personality shift that made Anne reconsider her opinions on her lady. Though it certainly didn’t hurt, she privately thinks it was the best possible outcome for everyone in the long run. No, it was something much smaller than that.

“I can just cover it with my hair!”

And Anne, thrown out for being disfigured and worthless, knowing the ridiculousness of those words, cannot help reacting with a protective surge of steadfast loyalty, only to marvel as Katarina keeps changing.

“Anne,” she starts, once they are alone again and Geordo is successfully out of the Claes household, having secured his fiance status. “How should I act? To be me, I mean.”

It’s such a strange question; Anne can’t help pausing, adjusting the curtains to allow a little more light into the room. Katarina’s voice is small, something she has trouble reconciling at the time, unused to the gentler side of the girl. Anne turns around and freezes. Her small charge is staring down at her hands like they’re unfamiliar, tears in her eyes, and for one terrifying second, Anne fears the disconnection she sees, contemplates calling for the doctor again -

And then Katarina looks up at her, trying to smile, and no, this is nothing a doctor can help with. After all, she recognizes everyone, nor is she exhibiting any of the other symptoms the doctor warns them about. But she is asking for help, so Anne offers the advice that she herself never follows.

“I think, Lady Katarina,” she starts, still watching for any signs of upset, “that doing what is natural is the best way to be oneself.”

“Natural, huh?” Katarina muses, humming. Then she beams at Anne, a broad smile she has never really seen before, especially not directed at herself. “Anne, can you take me outside, please?”

Anne clenches her fist to prevent the instinctual motion. She will become well-accustomed to it over the following years, but not now when Katarina’s behavior is still so new and, well, odd. “That is not quite what I - very well,” she amends, thrown by the adorable enthusiasm Katarina is expressing with her eyes.

---

She worries at first when Keith is brought home. Worries that Katarina will one day be cast aside, both by prince and family. A better heir, a better betrothal to be found. There had been no replacement for Anne, who was not fit to inherit and whose scars could be hidden in proper company, and she was still tossed aside. Not like Katarina's noticeable mark and the new Claes heir.

And then Anne looks one day at Keith huffing, running after the carriage where she sits with Katarina and Geordo and sees the way Geordo's smile tightens when Keith somehow catches up, grass stains covering his lower half.

When Mary and Alan drop onto the top of the Claes carriage from an overhanging tree, Mary trying to haul Katarina out the window to join them, Anne realizes the thought had been quite foolish.

Katarina isn't Anne. Katarina has friends. Katarina has people who love her. Katarina has Anne.

Katarina will be alright. 

---

Katarina is older now, just on the cusp of womanhood. Eleven, and still far too young for some of the questions she asks.

“Anne?”

Anne braces herself, already resigned just by the tone that this will be a serious conversation.

“What happens to my stuff if something happens to me?” Katarina isn’t looking at her, staring down at her journal instead. 

“In what way?” inquires Anne, because there are many ways that can be interpreted, and it is never wise to assume with Katarina.

“Like, I don’t know, what if I get exiled or executed or run away - what happens to my stuff?”

 "My lady," begins Anne sternly, though she takes one of Katarina's hands to soften the tone, "none of those things will happen." Certainly not if Anne has any say in the matter. The fact that she doesn't is immaterial. 

"But if they do - "

"Two of those outcomes will have me following you. Three, possibly, depending on the circumstances." She's been invited to more than a few meetings of disgruntled illegitimate children and commoners. She knows Katarina's disdain for the mistreatment of others, so the possibility is less ridiculous than she wants. Katarina's friends can protect her from many things currently, but Anne doubts their influence can currently stop accusations of treason. 

"Anne, no! Don't say that. If I'm exiled or worse, it's probably for a good reason and you shouldn't uproot your life! And if I run away, well. I just want to make sure my things are taken care of."

"In case you come back," muses Anne, noticing the nervous way Katarina laughs. "I can safeguard your items, Lady Katarina, and ensure that every resource at my disposal is used to bring you back safely."

Katarina shoots her an exasperated look, but she's smiling again, and Anne is hardly surprised by the hug the girl gives her.

---

Anne notices the bare hands and slight scorching on the edge of Prince Geordo’s cuff, though a quick glance at Alan and Nicol shows none of the warning signs she has grown to expect with a slight at Katarina that upsets the third prince. Their miens are far too focused right now, so clearly, this was an issue between the two that had troubled their compatriot, rather than an unfortunate third party.

The aforementioned third parties had the peculiar luck to find their next public appearance marred by a localized tornado that would spike their hair entirely upright in ice.

It suits them in a way, perhaps. Prince Alan is the warmer twin in temperament, but he mastered ice before water properly. Prince Geordo keeps a cool facade but burns ardently just beneath it. And Master Nicol hides a tempest behind those eyes, carefully restrained.

She isn’t entirely out of the room when she hears Geordo sigh. “Perhaps I was a bit hasty,” the thirteen-year-old admits.

“Perhaps,” Nicol responds, just the hint of sarcastic inflection detectable to Anne.

Alan snorts. “Just give her time, okay? You’ve got your whole life to confess your feelings and junk.”

---

The others are much the same way.

Mary contains a deluge designed for drowning concealed at her fingertips, though she's adept at cutting her opponents socially off at their knees.

Sophia, perhaps, was the most like how she presented herself, but Anne has been detecting a squall brewing behind those eyes lately.

Keith, who tries to be as unflappable as the solid earth, yet loses his composure at least once a week the second Katarina hints at any ungentlemanly behavior. 

"I'm not a rake, sister!" Keith screeches one day after such a comment, and Anne discreetly rolls her eyes as she sets the lemonade at their table by the garden.

Katarina looks at him confusedly. "And I'm not a hoe?" She commiserates, completely missing the sudden reddening of Keith's face as he sputters. "Are you wanting a new one for your birthday, then?"

"A new what?!"

Katarina just stares at Keith. "A rake, obviously."

Keith matches her bewildered look. "Why would I want a new rake?"

Anne can't look at either of these children. Honestly.

---

"Anne?" Katarina asks, still resting up from her exposure to dark magic, now that Maria is saved. She turns toward her lady with a hum. "Do you think I'm still the same? As I was when I was younger, I mean."

"You are the same as you have been for the past several years, my lady."

"But compared to …before?"

Anne pauses.

"Oh, nevermind. It's a silly question; who else could I be?"

"I think," Anne starts, "that children often forget themselves, when there is so much to learn at that age."

"Eh?"

"You have always been yourself, Lady Katarina. Who you are now is the same person you were born as, regardless of any superficial difference."

Anne’s words must strike as carefully as she aimed them, for Katarina tears up immediately and starts wiping her eyes. Anne passes her a handkerchief silently. They have had numerous variations of this conversation several times over the years, and each time Anne feels that same uncertainty, coupled with swelling protectiveness.

But each time, Anne is equally certain - Katarina is Katarina, regardless of anything else. No one else could quite be like her, of that Anne is very much sure.

No one else worries about not being themselves quite as much as Katarina, either.

Chapter Text

“What is it? Anne, do you have news?” Both Claes parents are less composed than she has ever seen of a noble.

Maria cannot judge them. Their daughter, so recently out of a magical coma, is missing. The missive Anne sent had arrived far quicker than them, but their arrival is still expedient.

Anne bows. “I do not, but the children, ” as one, they all wince again, “have something that I believe would be wise to share with you.”

“A book,” Duchess Claes says. “Is now really the time when Katarina is missing?”

Maria twists her hands together. “Given the nature of the book, we believe it played a role in Katarina’s disappearance. The book reveals possible futures… or realities. We’re not entirely sure.” Something about Sophia's explanation still seems off to her.

Each Claes takes the book with carelessness born of ignorance, holding it between them. Duke Claes starts to open it to the first few pages. “Please, show us.”

Between their disappearance and reappearance, Anne winces and facepalms. “I’m sorry, my Lord, my Lady, I forgot to mention that it is not an ordinary fortune book.”

The two sit there. “That’s quite apparent now, Anne,” replies Duke Claes. His eyes are hard and callous as he turns to Keith. “Please, do tell me why I just witnessed the boy I took in as my own murdering my beloved daughter.”

Keith pales as Millidiana raises her eyes to him, shocked. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, clearly at a loss for words. Faintly, Maria notices the room is trembling, though it takes several moments for her to realize that Duke Claes is the one responsible, taking measured breaths as he works to calm himself. 

She hadn’t realized that the Duke possessed such strong earth magic as well. No wonder the Duchess had suspicions when Keith first arrived. His raw power would have only been further damnation.

“Darling,” Millidiana says gently, setting her hand on his arm, and the shaking stops immediately. “Thank you. Keith,” she continues, and he flinches, staring down at his balled hands crinkling his pants. “Why don’t we resolve this issue first?”

Mary opens her mouth, clearly about to protest, but then Keith breaks. “I’m sorry!” he cries, and Maria finds herself moving forward instinctively and notices Raphael doing the same. Alan is at her side and claps Keith on the shoulder supportively. She startles to find Nicol at her other side as she sits down next to Keith, even as he passes her a handkerchief to clean Keith up. “I wouldn’t hurt her, not again,” he insists, and Millidiana raises a hand to stop him.

"I do not doubt that." Millidiana's gaze is intense, but there's more tenderness directed at Keith than Maria expects. 

"One does not repeat the mistake of hurting Katarina," agrees Raphael darkly. Luigi looks him over with a critical gaze.

"I know how much you love your sister," adds Duchess Claes.

Privately, Maria doubts that, but Duke Claes sighs, his expression softening as he nods. "I do agree with Milli."

"As for me, I saw something quite different," Millidiana says, and this time there's no magic, but Maria feels a frisson of fear creep down her spine at the fury in her eyes, even directed at Geordo as it is.

Geordo absorbs her ire without even a twitch.

"You know well that I have long harbored doubts about your engagement," she continues, manipulating the folding of her fan in a way Maria has seen Mary often mimic. "And now I have more worries than I do justifications."

"Duchess Claes - "

"You must be aware that I will not remain passive. I cannot afford to. If I have to use the full power of the Claes and Adeth connections, then so be it." The way she tosses the book back to Geordo is viperous. 

It strikes Maria then that Geordo's hands may be tied in this exchange, both for personal and political reasons. She won't pretend to understand the latter, but surely he fears upsetting Katarina just as much as the rest of them, which means he can't ruthlessly crush Duchess Claes the way he might have done to another adversary. Millidiana Claes, however, has no such compunctions.

"That future won't happen," Maria blurts suddenly, horrified at her own impulsive gallantry, and in defense of the third prince, no less.

Frigid eyes are narrowed in her direction now. They don't resemble her daughter's eyes at all.

"Ah," Duchess Claes hums, "the instigator."

Goodness, this woman is terrifying.

A second set of cold, calculating eyes join the appraisal, and now Duke Claes looks nothing like his son.

Oh, no. They're both fearsome. Maria fears what will happen if Katarina and Keith somehow grow up to be even more formidable.

"It could never happen, because Lady Katarina… Katarina is very dear to me." Maria swallows. "Far more dear than Prince Geordo and Lord Keith."

"I feel the same," declares Mary, which apparently startles Millidiana. Maria huffs a quiet breath as the intense stare breaks. 

The interjection spurs the rest of them into vocalizing their agreement. Anne's hand twitches at her side. Nicol merely nods, though Maria isn’t sure if it’s because he’s actually agreeing or simply not trusting himself to speak.

Duchess Claes sighs tiredly all of a sudden, gripping the Duke's hand tightly. "I think we need a short rest. Just a break until emotions cool."

Reluctantly, the younger ones leave the sitting room of Katarina's suite. "We'll be in the Student Council room," Maria informs Anne lowly, who nods. 

---

"Why don't we just use the book to find her?" Sophia asks once they're resituated, turning to Geordo, who slumps against the table, a hand hiding his eyes. "See where she will be in the future?"

"Would that even work? The book thinks she's supposed to be dead," Raphael replies. 

"One way to find out," Sophia says, holding out a hand towards Geordo.

"I don't have it," he mutters tiredly. "I burned it."

There's a collective pause, and then Sophia explodes. Maria winces at the colorful language, but Mary nods at every expletive.

For the first time, Geordo looks positively small. "Katarina asked me to do so. She - I don't know how - but she knew Anne would show Duke and Duchess Claes, and she told me to - to burn it after that happened. Katarina said she trusted only me to do it. That my cool head and blackened heart would see the sense in it."

His expression belies the bewilderment and pain he's still feeling heavily, and Maria is halfway out of her seat in sympathy when Alan pulls his twin tightly into a hug.

Chapter Text

Maria contemplates interrupting Sophia's tirade several times, but horror-struck fascination steals her breath away each time. At her side, Mary is watching the small Ascart with some of the most respectful admiration Maria has ever seen her show towards their friends.

Eventually, Alan jerks out a nod, and Nicol intercedes. "We're wasting time."

"What's done is done," agrees Raphael, though he looks none too pleased with the third prince either. "And there is little those present would deny Katarina."

It's not absolution but an acknowledgment. At the very least, it's enough to pull everyone together. There will be time later to lambast Geordo.

"If what Geordo says is true, that's a very calculated move on Katarina's part," says Alan seriously. "Has anyone out of the ordinary talked to her in the last couple weeks?"

"You're thinking that someone targeted Katarina," Nicol infers immediately. "Instead of Katarina coming up with one of her… alternative ideas?"

“We've been flirting with her for the better part of a decade, and she hasn't noticed. If she were capable of planning out something this complex, we wouldn't be in this situation.” Mary makes a noise akin to a cat hacking up a furball, and Alan glances at her incredulously. “What? We have. I’m dense, not stupid. Just because you figured out your feelings first of all of us doesn’t mean I can’t see it in hindsight, Mary.”

“I was first,” Geordo and Keith say simultaneously. Keith scowls at the blonde prince.

“You’re both wrong,” Alan interjects impatiently. “Interest and affection, yes, but Mary had the first crush and was aware of it before either of you figured out why you kept fighting.” He’s looking at Mary softly now, affection and pride across his face, and Maria can only stare as she realizes his fiancee is slowly reddening under the attention. Alan blushes suddenly and averts his eyes. “We’re getting off-topic.”

"I haven't noticed anything unusual, but I have been rather preoccupied. We all have," Maria offers, and Mary gives her hand a grateful squeeze. The rest of them shake their heads.

"So, we have Katarina's discussion with Geordo, her note to Anne, and some of her more laid back clothing is missing," concludes Nicol. "What exactly did she write?"

Keith frowns. "Anne would not relinquish the note earlier." There's the barest hint of aggravation in his voice, though he still looks worn from the earlier emotional upsets of the day. Maria briefly hopes that her own eyes are not so bloodshot. It looks incredibly itchy. "We'll need that before anything else." He pointedly ignores the surprised look Geordo shoots at him.

---

Anne won't actually hand over the note, Keith explains when he returns with her in tow. Maria thinks he still looks pretty disgruntled. 

"I am willing to read it aloud, to help find Lady Katarina," says Anne, "but it was addressed to me and will remain in my possession."

Maria has never actually considered the depths of Anne's dedication before - it has simply been unquestionable - but she finds herself unsurprised.

Anne,

I cannot say if I will be back, in time. I just needed to get away.

You have been the best, Anne. I will miss you.

- Katarina

"Well, that's helpful," muses Raphael. “No doubt that it was Katarina’s handwriting?” Anne shakes her head. “And neither of us picked up on any dark magic around,” he adds, turning to Maria for confirmation, which she gives. “Not that I’m much good at it still.”

"It's not much," Alan agrees. "But it does at least suggest that Katarina left of her own free will. I think."

Anne opens her mouth, then hesitates. She closes her eyes, and Maria can see just a hint of the worry just barely lining her face. Whatever Anne is pondering, she seems to come to a decision and gestures for them to follow her back to the Claes parents. “I have something that may shed some more light, but… it’s my duty to both maintain Lady Katarina’s possessions, and use every expedient available to bring her back.”

---

“This is highly inappropriate,” Duchess Claes argues when Anne pulls out a brown journal, the Claes insignia embossed in the corner.

“I’m willing to take the brunt of Lady Katarina’s ire for my actions, as I alone will be handling her possessions,” Anne says, staring them down each in turn. 

Millidiana huffs, bookended by Keith on one side and Luigi on the other. “Oh, quite a punishment,” she murmurs. Anne ignores her commentary and cracks open the journal, quickly skimming to just a little over the middle of the thick binding. 

Maria catches a few childish drawings - it looks like her friends enough to imagine it’s from their childhoods. However, oddly enough, they look like miniaturized versions of their current selves. It’s clear that Katarina has been using this journal for many years, perhaps before she even met most of the others. It’s fitting that Katarina cannot sit still long enough to jot down more than a few thoughts at the time, Maria supposes. Goodness only knows how many Maria would have filled if she could have afforded the paper, what with her countless lonely childhood hours.

Anne clears her throat, apparently finding the page she’s looking for.

I know this is where I’m supposed to be, but I’d like to go home. Actual home. I know it’s not possible, but I want my family.

I thought I knew who I was, but everything with Sirius Raphael has me thinking again about that day. I have memories from before my accident, but I also have memories of another life. And despite the certainty I feel, I have to wonder if I really am Katarina Claes and all that entails.

I got to go home for a little bit. I dreamed about my family when Raphael put me to sleep, a completely ordinary day. Almost like the one when I died. I'm still that same person. 

"You didn't," whispers Raphael, staring at the Claes parents with a newfound dislike. Keith looks horrified. "Tell me you didn't put her through that." Maria takes one of his clenched fists in her hand and tries to soothe his grip. After a moment, she can feel the deep grooves dug into his palm, just a breath from breaking skin.

"No," Geordo replies before the confused Duke can respond. "You have my word, Raphael."

Raphael assesses him intently, so Geordo adds, "I'm the only one of us that met Katarina prior to her accident, and I assure you, I would have noticed the difference."

"As would I," interjects Anne, and Geordo nods seriously.

Sighing, Raphael motions for Anne to keep reading. 

But I'm not I don't think that person is Katarina Claes. I keep having nightmares about that personality returning to haunt me. What if I just become mean again one day?

It doesn't even feel like my body anymore. I had gotten used to it because of the memories, but after living the difference again. It's not. At least Raphael is in the correct body. I don't know how to reconcile the truth with my experience. I want to go home.

“Where is home if not here with us?” asks Keith, looking heartbreakingly lost. Mary is staring to the side, biting the side of her thumb. Even Nicol looks perturbed, though that may have to do with the faraway expression on Sophia’s face.

“I don’t understand.” Raphael is pale, staring down at the notes Geordo has taken and laid out to read. "But this is my fault."

Chapter Text

Luigi clears his throat. He, too, looks pale and shaken. "We need more information, just to be sure." Maria isn't sure even he believes that. "What does the next part say?"

Anne hesitates. "I cannot read it."

"Damn your loyalty and read the blasted thing already, Anne!" orders Millidiana, shocking them all. 

Luigi takes her hand. "Darling." She turns into his side, and he wraps an arm around her instead. Then he looks up at his daughter's longest companion. "Anne, please."

Anne just shakes her head. "I apologize, I just meant I literally cannot read it. I've searched several times over the years and never once found a script like this."

It’s another blow, stunning every one of them. Sophia hasn’t even opened her mouth yet when Nicol holds out his hand. “May we?” Anne gives him a flat look. “The princes and ourselves have more familiarity and resources available to us, since our families deal with foreign affairs daily.”

There’s a pause. Anne hands over the journal. “Please behave appropriately, Master Nicol.”

“You cannot seriously - Katarina is our daughter! She's not foreign!” shouts Millidiana, furious. She catches a glimpse of the writing as the journal is passed over and furrows her brows. “Anne, I expected you to encourage Katarina to put that childishness behind her by now.”

“My lady?”

Duchess Claes sighs, then collects herself. “Katarina has occasionally become incomprehensible when she’s very upset. And her scribbles - they looked like that, but with a child’s hand. As if unfamiliar. She stopped having such outbursts after her accident.”

“In public,” corrects Anne, and Millidiana seems to be furious and heartbroken all over again.

Maria feels distinctly that they should not be watching this. The two princes and the two Ascarts are poring over the journal with Anne over their shoulder, seeming to barely hear the family distress being aired. Keith, naturally, yet again looks like his world has been upended, as does Duke Claes. Next to her, Raphael is blinking and muttering to himself, deep in thought. Only Mary also seems to really be focusing on the scene in front of them, her hand clasping Maria’s tightly.

“Darling?”

“Luigi, I didn’t want to worry you. And then Katarina was engaged and I didn’t have a public reason to deny a prince. People talk, and I couldn’t just - well, she got better. I thought.”

“You should have told me.”

“What was I supposed to say? ‘By the way, our daughter, set to marry into the royal bloodline already known for bloodthirst, is addled in the mind.' Luigi, what would have happened?” challenges Millidiana, and he pales. Maria thinks he might actually become sick. She can relate, unfortunately.  “Exactly. I doubt you or the prince have revealed Katarina’s disappearance publicly for similar reasons.”

Nodding, Luigi pinches the brow of his nose. “I just don’t want her in danger. You know our enemies, Milli. I thought - with the third prince as her fiance and Keith as her brother - I thought Katarina would be safe. And then we saw those… bastardized versions murder her.”

Keith turns his face away, lips in a firm line. Duke Claes reaches out across his wife and covers his son’s arm with his hand. “I owe you an apology,” he murmurs, but Keith just shakes his head.

“We need to find sister,” demurs Keith.

Geordo stands suddenly, papers in hand, and Maria realizes that he’s been taking notes, copying some of the strange writing from Katarina’s journal. “I’m going to compare some notes in the Council room. Maybe with some luck, I’ll be able to decipher Katarina’s thoughts and figure out where my fiance would run.” 

Then he strides from the room as if desperate. Perhaps he is, Maria realizes, more so than the rest of them. If they still had the book… would they know where Katarina is now?

The elder Claes look around in confusion, sensing the sudden shift in mood at Geordo’s departure. In particular, Maria notices that Sophia’s mouth is a tight line, one eyebrow twitching up briefly before she smooths her face into one akin to her brother’s mien.

Mary must read the - most likely exasperated - expression on Maria’s face because a fond smile crosses her face even as she rolls her eyes and releases Maria’s hand. It feels cold without Mary’s warmth and she feels the loss keenly. “Oh, go on then. Just please don’t make wrangling Geordo a habit. I want more of your attention than you expend upon him, sunshine.”

Red dashes across her ears. Maria never thought she’d have friends this affectionate.

---

“Why do you do that?” Maria asks. “You - this may be indelicate - ”

“I will survive, I’m sure,” drawls Geordo, clearly amused, and Maria almost rolls her eyes.

Blunt then. “You act like Katarina would not give you the time of day if you weren’t engaged to her.” 

He pauses for a moment. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

She pushes, because it is a disservice to them all to allow his statements to remain unchecked as they have been. “I'm quite certain that you do. You reference it often enough."

He grimaces for a moment. “Maria, you are quite possibly more stubborn than even Nicol." Geordo sighs. "Katarina does not make a habit of seeking me out. Not frequently, anyways. And knowing now that she expected me to kill her all this time, well. It makes sense, but it does not change the feeling.”

Oh. “And the fact that she went out of her way to be welcoming and seek out Keith, despite knowing the same about him -”

“Yes.” Geordo’s not looking at her, stiff as he scratches another note down. “I’m aware it’s ridiculous.”

Maria has always considered there to be a gulf between Geordo and the rest of them - he alone has secured something akin to a romantic binding to Katarina, after all, regardless of her misguided thoughts about their engagement. But to hear that he considers himself on a far more isolated standing… it makes much more sense than Maria wants to contemplate.

Chapter Text

She's had enough of this, she realizes. And clearly, the gentle approach only goes so far.

"If you don't want to be alone, then stop trying to do everything alone," Maria tells him firmly.

Geordo stares at her, eyebrows raised above his minutely widened eyes.

"Both Alan and Sophia are proficient in linguistics, you know. Alan's ear for phonetics is unparalleled, and no one translates a page faster and more accurately than Sophia," she adds, already turned on her heel and heading out the door.

Maria strains her ears to hear if he’s following, then shakes her head and returns to her friends. She can't solve the issues between Katarina and Geordo - nor should she really try. But his steadfast belief of isolation?

She's confident he'll figure it out. Maria's just not going to hold his hand while he does.

---

Alan raises his head and meets her eyes when she returns, a silent question on his face. Maria just shrugs at him, and without a word, he shifts a focused Sophia into his previous position, pressing a hand into her back as he passes. Maria smiles as Sophia unconsciously straightens up, sure she's seen Alan correct Sophia's posture before. 

Nicol, she notices, has been perfectly upright this whole time, a stark contrast to how Sophia had previously been hunched over Katarina's journal. Honestly, sometimes Sophia barely has more decorum than Katarina and Maria. With her unusual appearance, Maria tends to find it endearing, as if Sophia just gets lost in another world sometimes and forgets herself.

"Student Council room," she tells him when he approaches, but Alan waves the words off.

"How are you holding up?"

Maria freezes. "Pardon me?"

Alan makes a face, not looking directly at her. He's looking at the Claes parents across the room instead. "Look, I want to tell you that everything being so… precarious this year is abnormal," he replies, and Maria can see how carefully Alan is choosing his words for once. "And it is. Really." There's a calm assurance in the way he says that. "But I also don't think it will stay abnormal, not after this. And I want you to be prepared for it."

The fine hairs at the nape of Maria's neck prick up. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because the rest of us have been watching for years for these altercations, and you haven't." Alan pauses for a moment. "I don't know which side to include Raphael on in that either."

That's… she had known what she was getting into, once she met everyone. Sort of, hadn't she? Maria's odds have never been what she generously would allow as good.  "Pr - Alan -"

"I'm just concerned is all." He's still not looking at her, though a slight twitch in the corner of his mouth makes Maria think he's now somewhat enjoying his staredown with a perplexed Mary. Or perhaps he's amused with Maria herself.

She sometimes wonders where her friends find the energy to be so exasperating for such prolonged periods. Still, Maria can tell Alan's words appear genuine.

Alan doesn't pat her head the same way Geordo has done. Geordo had remained polite and restrained, even while engaging in such an act, rubbing the front of her hair almost with his fingertips. 

Alan, in contrast, reaches back almost to the base of her skull, tangling his digits into the thick strands enough that Maria can practically feel the hairs wrapping his fingers as he ruffles them. And like he had done before when trying to get her to sleep, Alan leans forward for a second before pulling away.

"I should go see if Geordo's put himself back in one piece yet. You've spent too much of the last few days with Mary for me to trust that our - my brother's in his usual state." Left unsaid is what else might be causing Geordo to lose his composure, a surprisingly tactful move from the musician. Alan moves from the room with such quickness that Maria wonders if he really is that worried for Geordo. Feeling warm, she decides that his slip of the tongue is best left to be pondered another day.

Instead, she appraises the room. Anne, Sophia, and Nicol are still flipping through the pages of Katarina's journal, Anne quickly scanning each page and sometimes covering a passage with her hand. It makes Maria curious, though she has little urge to investigate herself - she might be rather tired of reading anything besides textbooks for quite a while now.

The Claes family seems to be having a quiet conversation, and while Keith still seems skittish, he is at least making eye contact with Duke Claes - or so it appears from where Maria is standing. She hopes it's the former rather than visual distortion. Maria can't be certain either, but Duchess Claes does seem rather cross, though she's not sure why.

Mary looks deep in discussion with Raphael when Maria walks up to her, though she does reach out to hold Maria's hand. Her expression clears.

"Did you figure something out?" Maria asks, but Mary shakes her head.

"Not really," she replies. "Raphael was just explaining what Katarina might be going through. It's…"

"I can't be certain, but if her experience is in any way similar to mine, I can't fathom how Katarina smiles everyday." Raphael grimaces, his hair looking exceptionally tousled, though Maria hasn't seen him pulling on it. He is usually physically composed, his stressed time under possession and kidnapping her notwithstanding.

Maria wonders if the Ministry has been helping Raphael come to terms with his childhood. Somehow, she doubts it's been brought up, given the work he seems to carry around constantly.

He's their friend, she thinks. If not themselves, they need to arrange some way for Raphael to vent those traumas. And apparently for Katarina, as well.

She feels a moment of shame for never considering that Katarina might have her inner struggles. They all seem so reliant on Katarina as their source of happiness, but she's not sure they've ever checked in on Katarina's well-being in-depth.

Maria's not sure how to even broach the topic, watching Geordo and Alan slip back into the room. Should she even try to do so, personally? What's the line between the well-being of a friend and the emotional weight to be carried by a professional?

Where is that line for them, as tangled and entwined as their lives have become already?

Maria's not sure any of them have that answer.

"Are we having a party?" A familiar voice asks.

Chapter Text

Everybody stares at Katarina for a second, then they leap to their feet and swarm her.

"Lady Katarina!"

"You're here!"

"We thought you ran away!"

"Eh? But I left a note," Katarina says, turning to look at Anne.

Anne is looking at the note again and pinching her brow. "You were rather unclear, my lady. Especially given what you had just learned and your friends' reactions when they arrived at your room."

Katarina practically wilts as she notices her father and mother encompassed in the mass, nearly smothering her. "You told my parents," she realizes, a note of dread in her voice. "I was only gone a few hours!"

"Yes, and we'll be discussing that later," her father informs her, trading a look with Millidiana. 

Katarina whimpers.

"Katarina," says Mary, tears in her eyes. "None of us had seen you since mid-morning. You have to admit that is rather… odd."

"And alarming, given what we just told you," adds Maria. She glances over at Geordo but doesn't bring up their conversation, quite sure it would be impolite to reference that which she had overheard.

"And what about that ' I cannot say if I will be back, in time.' huh?" Sophia hisses, gripping Katarina's hands tightly.

"Well yeah, ' I cannot say if I will be back in time.' In time to go home by the end of today," remarks Katarina.

"It's an ink spot. Not a comma," mutters Anne, hardly noticing as she sits in a nearby chair. Her breach of etiquette furthers as Duchess Claes passes her some tea.

"Seriously, I was at the bakery!" Katarina replies incredulously. "The one with the ricotta you like, Anne."

"You didn't mention it in your note, my lady," Anne demurs, noticeably red. "And you did write that you would miss me."

"Yes, because you weren't there to split the ricotta with me!"

"I take it back," Alan blurts suddenly. "Dense or not, we might all actually be stupid."

Maria apparently doesn't feel quite as foolish as the others for thinking Katarina had run off. She shares a sympathetic but relieved look with Raphael before Sophia slams her hand down.

"How do you think we feel, Katarina?!"

"Eh?!"

Sophia steadfastly ignores the nervous look each of their friends give her, pointing her finger in Katarina's face. "How am I supposed to feel? I wake up on what seems to be a regular day, ready for school and then suddenly, my," and here Sophia rubs her face, looking at her hand as if startled to find the wetness of tears on her palms, "my best friend is just gone and I can't do a damn thing about it!"

Nicol pulls out another handkerchief, a puzzled, searching look on his face as he forces it into Sophia's tightly curled fist.

Katarina appears frozen, unsure and heartbroken. "I didn't. I'm sorry, I didn't realize."

Sophia huffs, averting her eyes. “Whatever. Just don’t do it again.” She mutters something else that Maria cannot hear, but Katarina looks stunned.

“What did - ” Katarina starts, but Mary loses her tenuous grasp on restraint and nearly knocks her over with an enthusiastic hug.

---

Maria supposes she is technically eavesdropping again. Perhaps Mary can help her break this new, unbecoming habit.

She wasn't exactly worried when she saw Geordo leading Katarina into the hallway. Just… concerned. Their last conversation had not gone very well, after all.

"You are well, yes?" Maria can hear the hesitancy in his voice, as if Geordo doesn't fully believe he can ask such a question.

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"When you disappeared, I was… concerned."

…Okay, Maria has spent too much time with the third prince lately, clearly. 

"Eh? You worried for me?"

"Of course I did," says Geordo, a note of exasperation barely repressed in his tone. "We love you. I'm not just letting you give up your life out of some misplaced fear when ours would be much the poorer for it." He pauses. "Unless you want us to leave you alone."

Katarina contemplates him for the moment. "You're not using the royal We, are you?

"No," he replies. "I'm talking about our friends. You belong with them." Then, using a softer, unsure tone. "And I belong to the group as well."

"Oh," Katarina says quietly, a note of wonder in her voice.

"You were right," continues Geordo, "and I owe you an apology for it at a later date. I'll also be taking your other suggestion into consideration."

The prolonged silence has Maria quickly peeking an eye around the door frame, newfound questions springing unbidden to her tongue. Geordo apparently notices her immediately anyway, despite facing away from the doorway.

"Maria is here, too," he adds softly, looking over his shoulder with a rueful smile. "Just behind the corner."

Well then. Caught, Maria supposes.

Geordo maintains his welcoming demeanor as she approaches, a softer look than she's come to expect from him, even next to Katarina. He gives Katarina's hand a quick squeeze, then heads out with one final smile at them both.

"You know, you never answered my question the other day," Katarina says once he's gone, and Maria looks at her in confusion. "When we went patrolling."

Oh. Katarina had said there was a question, wasn't there?

"I'm afraid I don't remember what you asked of me," admits Maria, truthfully embarrassed to confess to plainly ignoring Katarina in this one instance. There were mitigating circumstances, but still. How appalling.

"I asked," Katarina starts, taking Maria's hands in her own, and Maria immediately feels the blush creeping into her cheeks, "if you really weren't interested in anyone. I know I put you a bit on the spot at graduation, so I wanted to ask privately."

She thinks of her daydreams of confessing to Katarina - sometimes romantic and happy, sometimes depressing and rejected - and is stunned to realize that the shape has changed.

Maria isn't standing alone with Katarina anymore, in a field or garden or along a riverbank out in the country. It's not even a mental image of herself and Katarina baking together in the Campbells' cottage. Instead, they're seated on an overly large blanket - still out in nature, true, that part of Maria is never going away. She knows Katarina harbors a similar kinship somehow with the rural areas of Sorcier. Likewise, the basket of sweets is still ever-present, only much larger to accommodate the expanded group.

Alan is resting against the trunk of a large oak, while Sophia has her head propped on his shins, reading one of her typical books. On their other side, Keith and Geordo are playing chess. Raphael is also there, his bag empty of gadgets and papers for once, laugh lines twinkling as he converses with Nicol. Maria feels warmth at her side, where Mary rests against her, engaged in an afternoon nap and looking radiant in the sunlight. On the other side of the basket, Katarina is looking at them all fondly, pure affection in her expression.

"Maria?" Katarina is looking at her, patient as always and perhaps a touch concerned.

Maria lets out a breath. "I might be," she admits slowly, charmed by the way Katarina's eyes widen. A strange yet encompassing warmth is blooming within Maria's chest as she focuses on her daydream. "But I'm unsure of the depth of my emotions and I have no intention of expressing them fully until I have decided."

"Wow," says Katarina softly, and her thumb traces the back of Maria's hand in reassurance. "I - okay."

Is this… really what Maria wants?

Yes.

But, how to ensure it?

Chapter Text

Mary Hunt works hard. She doesn't think, often, of how much effort she puts in. Mary just focuses on the end goal.

Katarina's plants are dying? Study until she finds the solution. Mary practices the male part of every acceptable dance in society, and a few that are not. Mary learns to read maps and the stars, and to navigate in ways that are more folkmyth than accepted.

And eventually, Mary learns to utilize this diligence in other areas outside of Katarina, and a new world of opportunity opens up for her.

So when Mary Hunt starts noticing how hardworking other people are (besides Katarina and Mary herself), she starts paying attention. And then can't entirely stop.

Mary Hunt doesn't have a type. 

Katarina Claes has callouses from years of tending her fields, her muscles toned and well-accustomed to lifting far more than a noblewoman should.

Alan Stuart dedicates hours every day to perfecting his music, a thousand minor tweaks constantly at his bleeding fingertips.

Maria Campbell comes to the Academy and snags second place on the exams without growing up with the same opportunities, writing until her hand curls up.

Mary saw firsthand how dedicated Katarina was to her garden and recognized it immediately. They are kindred spirits digging in the soil. Mary admires Katarina, so she emulates her for a while. Picking up mannerisms, interests, and work ethic. And eventually, Mary turns these into her own, photosynthesizing what she loves about Katarina into Mary as a new person. 

She can't match Katarina's fervor for novels, so Mary channels that into her studies of atlases and almanacs. Mary doesn't possess the endurance to run around climbing trees every day, so she learns geography and where the tallest grow.

However, Mary keeps her work ethic and learns a hundred ways to water her flowers and detect a coming storm.

She's fourteen when she notices just how much effort Alan's compositions take, how much time he spends getting just one note right, how he'll get lost in the music and not surface until he's finished, even to eat. It's not a sudden realization but a truly gradual one. What Mary had brushed off before as disinterest when Alan would be late to their teas, she starts recognizing as a mind solely focused on its goal. His apologies don't sound false, and platitudes become genuine when she takes his hand one day for a portrait and feels the scuff of his callouses against her own. (Alan apologizes for the scrape, completely missing her own thick skin.)

Alan has always respected Mary's boundaries and autonomy, but it takes on a new meaning to her now that she recognizes his own steadfast work. Mary learns to enjoy dancing again, listening to Alan play.

So by the time Mary meets Maria Campbell, it doesn't take much for Mary to notice. 

Mary Hunt won't admit she has a type.

She just appreciates how effortlessly Katerina, Alan, and Maria can climb up those trees.

Their hands are rougher than Mary's, even with her gardening, but they always hold her hands so softly.

The three of them have the softest smiles as well.

Mary Hunt maybe has a type.

It's not a crime to feel drawn to dense, dorkish sweethearts, especially when they work hard. 

The dark purple undertone of Alan's coat goes well next to Maria's pink dress and the deep blue Katarina is fond of. 

Her affection for each of them is different but no less because of it. Alan's is the most innocent, perhaps, but it's still different from her love for her friends. He is, in essence, the closest she will probably ever have to an equal partner. That she does not desire him means little, especially when he feels similar.

Alan is built for cool tones and icy spikes, a crescendo of noise that sends icicles crashing to the ground at his feet. Mary is all warm, like a tropical pool that hides something with very sharp teeth at the bottom.

Katarina and Maria are two different matters entirely.

Katarina was the fertilizer Mary needed to help her blossom into the woman she's become. Alan is her water, a dependable source of life that keeps her stable. And Maria… it feels wrong to say. Maria is bright and warm sunshine and entirely unaware of the people blooming around her just by being in her presence.

Perhaps one would expect Katarina to be Mary's sunshine. She didn't understand the difference herself until Maria. But Katarina helped them all grow in ways they couldn't help but immediately recognize. But the sun, oh. Nobody really thinks of the sun's role. It's just a given. But a plant doesn't reach its full potential unless it gets just the right amount of sun. 

And Mary fully believes that Maria will help them all grow, to continue the process Katarina started so long ago. She's seen it already. Mary's not sure anyone else recognizes it yet. Alan perhaps, but certainly not Maria. Suns don't shine for the plants; they simply are. Maria is the same. She's even had an influence on Geordo, loathe as Mary is to contemplate that.

There's no way to possess sunshine, not in a way that keeps others from basking in it as well. Fertilizer, sure. You could hide your fertilizer away, somewhere dark and damp where no one else would ever notice it. Mary contemplated such a thing frequently when she was younger, filling whole journals with fanciful schemes to whisk Katarina far away from the eyes of their friends.

Mary likes to think she is better now. Still possessive, perhaps, but age has brought the acceptance that she likely will be engaging in sharing of some form in her personal life.

And Mary? Well, Mary is a gardener. And a gardener always needs sunshine, fertilizer, water, and patience.

Chapter Text

“You finally look well-rested,” Mary notes approvingly, then she sighs next to her. “The boys are being sneaky again.”

“How so?” Maria asks, amused.

“They’ve been practicing their swordplay. Making small, precise cuts. Well, except Alan. He’s been composing some accompaniment for their stabs and slashes.” Mary falls over into her side dramatically, and Maria instinctively wraps an arm around her.

“What exactly do you think they’re doing?” She rests her chin on the crown of Mary’s head and continues penning her polite refusal - on behalf of the Student Council - to allow the ‘Upcoming Noblewoman’s Appreciation Club.’ Just because she’s not as devious as some of the others doesn’t mean she doesn’t see what that is about. Maria’s not allowing yet another underground Katarina Claes fanclub to spring up. The rest of the Student Council hadn’t let her live it down last year.

“Practicing discrete cuts to make a woman’s clothes fall off,” Mary says immediately, deadpan, and Maria, laughing, drops her pen to tickle Mary’s side.

She’s sprawled across Maria’s lap, giggling, by the time Maria stops chuckling. They’re both still flushed when Keith and Katarina walk in and nearly halt directly in the doorway.

Keith raises an eyebrow. “Is everything all right?”

Mary makes no effort to move and just waves an arm at them, still breathing hard from her tickling punishment.

“We’re well,” Maria manages, eyes dipping down briefly to make sure Mary’s dress has not had an embarrassing malfunction before she looks back up at them.

Keith still looks skeptical, but Katarina is making an odd expression at them, and Maria feels her humor petering out uncertainly at the look. She’s used to Katarina being thrilled when her friends get along, especially as Maria integrated more with the group. However, the stunned countenance across her face is getting more exaggerated by the second as her eyebrows start creeping upward.

“I expected Prince Geordo to be here already,” Keith continues, frowning.

Maria shrugs and then grabs Mary again as the action nearly rolls the noble off her lap. Katarina purses her lips suddenly and sits down across from them, and Maria is glad to see her confusion mirrored in Mary’s eyes as they look at each other at her continued silence. Mary sits up just as the door smacks Keith in the back.

“Oi, don’t block the entrance, Claes,” Alan says, scowling, the new first-year Council members behind him. “You good?” He puts a hand on Keith’s shoulder and checks him over with concern. Keith nods absentmindedly, stepping aside, and Alan does a double-take. “Why are you sitting on Maria’s lap?”

Mary frowns at him, wrapping a hand around Maria’s arm to steady herself as she leans forward. “You can’t just ask a lady that, Alan.”

Alan turns red. “Well, I…”

“Or is it Maria’s turn to be accused of seducing me?” Somehow, though she can’t see it from this angle, Maria just knows that Mary’s eyes are glinting.

To her surprise, Alan recovers quickly. “You do talk about Maria almost as much as - ”

“Alan!” Mary drops her head into her hands, and Maria awkwardly rubs her back in what she hopes comes across as comfort. “Don’t just - ”

“Dense, not stupid,” he reminds her, and Mary nods gloomily in agreement, her face still hidden.

Keith clears his throat. “Perhaps we should stop scaring the first-years now?”

Maria looks over, and indeed, while one of the first-years is watching them all with complete fascination, the other seems to be edging back towards the door, her eyes wide and clearly startled.

Alan strides over and drops into a squat, making Maria feel particularly awkward with Mary in her lap. He lifts Mary’s head up gently to face him and speaks softly. “We’ll talk about it more later, okay?”

Geordo and Sophia walk in at that moment, and Maria vaguely recognizes the book on strategy they had apparently been ardently discussing. Geordo furrows his brows and gestures at the three of them, to which Keith shrugs, and Geordo pinches the brow of his nose. Keith passes him some tea, already prepared to his tastes. Absentmindedly, Sophia sits down next to Katarina and hands the equally quiet girl a sweet. They both look contemplative, and it unnerves Maria even more than whatever moment Alan and Mary are having practically on top of her.

Maria clears her throat and tries to smile at the first-years. "Perhaps you two would like to take a seat?"

---

They're finishing up in the council room when Mary starts looking resolute, staring at Katarina as they clean up.

Unexpectedly, Keith grabs Mary by the elbow, tugging her to the side. "Mother said not to discuss it with Katarina," he hisses, and Mary stares at him incredulously. 

"I," she starts, pulling her arm from his grip, "do not answer to Duchess Claes." Mary straightens her sleeve, glaring.

Keith fidgets. Maria's not sure how she never really noticed it before, but he practically quakes when stressed as if the motion will somehow alleviate his anxiety. "They talked with Katarina. Anne, too. It's family business. We're not to bother Katarina with it unless she brings it up with us."

Mary softens, picking up on the same thing Maria had.

Keith had not been included in this discussion.

"Okay," agrees Mary quietly, and Keith can't help the widening of his eyes. Maria tries to tamp down her own expression before Mary turns to face her. 

She'd been expecting a much more fierce reaction to the reminder of the thinly veiled order from Duchess Claes that they'd all received by special courier over summer break. But Keith's exclusion from Claes affairs bothered Maria, and clearly, Mary wasn't going to press those buttons with him either.

Despite her concern, their family business was none of Maria's, but… would it help if the Claes parents were aware of Maria's suspicions? Geordo and Alan had impressed the need for secrecy upon them all following the whole Dieke scandal. Maria didn't think that the Duke and Duchess Claes - or, magic forbid, Anne - would abuse the information.

Maria tries to picture the same dark aura around the two Claes adults as had coated Raphael, feeling simultaneously concerned and overwhelmed, somehow. She quickly shoves that thought aside for later. Anne though… Maria shivers before carefully boxing that thought away, hopefully for good.

Chapter Text

Frey and Ginger are an unlikely pair. Not, however, more unlikely than Maria being friends with the rest of the Student Council, and so the matter of their unusual friendship slides into easy acceptance among the group. Growing pains will be minimal for this year's Student Council.

That does not mean that they are not watching for the oncoming signs of Katarina-sickness, however. 

“You can’t seriously be betting on who falls for Katarina first,” Keith exclaims with his head in his hands.

Alan and Sophia are entirely unrepentant. Mary gives her fiance an unimpressed look. “That’s pretty much the opposite of what we want, Prince Alan.”

Alan returns a mutinous stare. “It’s not like it’s avoidable at this point. We both know that.” Mary just looks away, huffing.

Maria shifts nervously. Maybe it is just her, but things have been awkward the past few days between the engaged couple. And by extension, Maria feels uncomfortable around them, with a nagging suspicion that she missed something important the other day.

Perhaps Raphael will have an idea?

---

Maria takes it back. Raphael is absolutely no help.

“Is that so?” he says when she tells him, chuckling. “Why don’t you just ask them?”

“I don’t want to just put myself in the middle of it! It’s not my business.”

Of course, he’s smirking at her now. “Isn’t it?”

Maria breathes out through her nose harshly. "Your desk is even worse here than it was at school. I don't know how that is possible."

"The Ministry rests for no fool."

"You are going to work yourself into an early grave," she tells him, only a hint of humor in her tone. "But perhaps you'll rest then." Oh, Maria admires his work ethic, but surely he doesn't need to labor quite so hard all the time.

“The grave is a resting place only for those who lack the conviction to rise again,” Raphael replies, smirking at her outburst of laughter as he organizes his desk. "And you know well of my conviction, Maria." 

Maria catches a glance at the paperwork and frowns. "Raphael," starts Maria, and he pauses in packing his bag to look at her inquisitively. "Why exactly are you looking into the Claes Duchy?"

He grimaces immediately, and Maria knows he must have picked up on her assumption just by her tone. "Maria, please don't." He doesn't elaborate further, and Maria can't help but pull him in for a hug, which Raphael returns fiercely. "You know I can't just let it go."

"Especially after the courier," she surmises, and she feels him nod against her shoulder.

"We're the only two with any sense, after all," he says, adopting a haughty tone that brings a small smile to her face. "Us commoners have to stick together. And if…"

"If Katarina is one of us, or somehow like you, then we do our best," finishes Maria. "And damn the politics."

Raphael laughs, a wet noise that Maria would turn away from in politer company. But this is Raphael, and she is Maria, and the cruelness of their world is more apparent to them than the others. So instead, she just holds him tighter, closer than is proper, and more supportive than is allowed.

"I'm going to make a revolutionist of you yet, Maria Campbell."

"You're probably going to get us nearly killed, honestly," she jokes back. "But what's two lives for a smidge of progress?"

Raphael snorts, shaking with laughter. "Okay, that's too dark, even for me."

"Stop talking about revolution while we're sitting in a government building, then. You told me you’d be more careful than that."

He just makes a shushing motion with a grin and she sighs.

---

“There’s one final matter of business for today,” Geordo starts. “The school festival is well organized by this point, but the ending performance still needs to be decided.”

Frey’s eyes light up. “Oh, are you all UNACs, too?”

“What?!” Keith shrieks and Frey nods knowingly. “We’re not eunuchs!”

Ginger smacks Frey, who breaks off snickering. “She means the Upcoming Noblewoman’s Appreciation Club. UNAC.”

Several eyes turn to Maria. “No, I distinctly remember denying that request,” Maria says, a tad annoyed. That was not a mistake she’d make twice. “Who’s in charge?” If there’s an unapproved club operating, the Student Council needs to be aware.

Frey and Ginger trade a confused look. “Um, Katarina, obviously. When she heard it had been denied, she offered to spearhead the resubmission and everyone kind of just… voted her Club President.”

Mary makes a wounded noise and Keith facepalms. “You didn’t even read it, did you?”

“In my defense,” states Mary, absolutely bright red and meeting no one’s eyes, “Katarina was talking about gardening when she handed it to me and then she fed me one of Maria’s sweets.”

“That would do it,” Frey drolls, and Ginger shushes her to no avail. Her eyes drift over to Maria sympathetically. “Katarina tried to get the name changed to the Upcoming Woman’s Appreciation Club.”

“We didn’t have the heart to tell her that we were refusing because we didn’t want to be called UWAC,” adds Ginger. “It seemed… improper.”

Maria just nods. “That sounds like a coven of assassins.”

Sophia starts laughing as Ginger stares at Maria. “Yes… that. Anyways, the Club got permission to take over for the Student Council for the performance. Katarina argued with the administration that you all were quite busy enough as it is. She even agreed to participate herself! Provided the cast receives enough sweets backstage.” Ginger’s tone is all grim amusement, as if she can’t quite believe that a noblewoman could be swayed by something so simple.

Alan runs his hand through his hair, trading a resigned look with Geordo. “Nothing for it then.”

Geordo nods seriously, a firm grimace on his face. “We’re joining Katarina’s UNACs.”

Keith's head falls to the table with an impressive thunk!

Chapter Text

Mary scowls. "Why am I doing this again?"

"It wouldn't be proper for me to join an appreciation club without my fiance," says Alan breezily, and Sophia positively snickers from her place by his side at Mary's dark look.

Alan’s carrying a stack of books that are clearly Sophia’s unless he’s somehow taken a sudden interest in certain romance novels. Maria hopes he hasn’t. 

“I didn’t realize you could be polite, brother,” Geordo teases, gesturing at the novels, and Alan scowls at him.

“I’m perfectly capable of the same manners - stop laughing, Mary! - as you, Geordo.” Even Maria can’t stop her giggle at the petulant look he’s shooting Mary as she leans into her, resting almost her entire weight on Maria’s shoulders. Predictably, Alan gives them a gentle smile. Maybe things aren’t quite as awkward between the couple as Maria had feared.

As could be expected, no member of the Upcoming Noblewoman's Appreciation Club is excited to see the rest of the Student Council at their door, except for Katarina.

"Did we both win?" Alan asks Sophia out of the corner of his mouth as they sit down next to the already-seated Frey and Ginger. "Or did we both lose?"

"Undecided," she whispers back, and Mary taps their knuckles lightly with her fan in a warning.

"We're ambivalent," Frey chimes in helpfully, startling the three of them and Ginger facepalms.

Maria hopes her own composure is better than the rest of them.

---

"I can't," Katarina says again to her disappointed clubmates. "A small role, maybe, but I definitely don't have enough skill to pull off the main role."

"You should be the stepsister," Sophia blurts, ignoring the few sneers sent her way. "I wrote the role with you in mind."

"Oh," Katarina mumbles softly, looking both touched and off-balance, as if it never occurred to her that Sophia might give her that much consideration. "Well, in that case, I'll do my best!"

Maria tries not to swoon at the absolutely adorable bow Katarina takes during her declaration. It's not Sorcierian, but pure Katarina.

---

She’s in the side office of the Student Council when Geordo shows up.

“You’re here early,” Keith notes in surprise.

Geordo sighs. “The girls kidnapped Alan again. I saw Miss Anne heading in here and was hoping to catch them before he gets roped into something dreadful again.”

“Well, it’s probably too late for him now,” replies Keith, shuffling a stack of papers in front of the prince.

Maria, entirely unrepentant, sidles her way passed them, a box in one hand. Anne finishes with the tea tray and follows her out the door.

---

“Maria, I don’t need ribbons to play the accompaniment!” Alan insists, dodging the much too-cute accessory.

Maria, entirely without meaning to, feels her eyes widen as she stares up at him. “But it’ll really make sure people give you the attention you deserve during your performance. Besides,” she adds, “don’t you want to match Mary?”

Alan sighs and takes the ribbon. Before Maria can fully feel satisfaction, however, he’s reaching out and tying it into her own hair. She blinks at him. “There. Wouldn’t it be better for you to match with Mary?”

Maria glances to the side, where Mary is helping Sophia with a sophisticated curled ribbon that contrasts nicely with her hair - a deep cyan that stands out against it. She’s being so gentle with Sophia’s hair, which warms something deep inside Maria’s heart. “You’re going to give people the wrong idea, Prince Alan.”

“Your face will do that for me,” he says lightly, and Maria snaps her gaze back to him. “Also, here.” Alan grabs another ribbon, weaves it into the previous one, and then flips the hand mirror around for her to view.

Maria nearly drops it. “Alan - ”

“For one night, in one small way, just express yourself, Maria.” Alan’s tone is still gentle, and his eyes are far more understanding than Maria can grasp. It feels like he’s seen something Maria has only glimpsed so far.

She looks again at the bright blue ribbon interwoven with the deep orange and nods. “During the performance.” Then she tilts her head at him. “Now get this out of my hair before someone sees it today, please.”

Alan barks out a laugh, a muffled “bossy” voiced underneath it, and he reaches out to untangle it from her curls.

---

"I'm sorry, Miss Maria, but Lady Katarina is currently in a meeting," Anne tells her apologetically.

"A meeting?" ponders Maria, thinking about Katarina's schedule and drawing a blank.

She had been wondering, these last couple of weeks, where Katarina had disappeared at these times. It's been unspoken among the group, but by this point, everyone tends to arrange their schedules to give someone at least a couple hours with Katarina alone, rarely leaving Katarina by herself. She had checked the gardens and the kitchen, and the library and the training fields, of course, but this was the first time her knocking at Katarina's door had garnered a response during these times. Maria is relieved that Anne finally answered this time.

A loud wail erupts from the room, and Maria tries to tamp down her concern. Anne sighs. "Please come back later, Miss Maria. I know Lady Katarina will be pleased to see you."

Confused, Maria can only nod as Anne closes the door on her. The fact that Anne was there was an immense relief to her, but…

She's stood here for too long, Maria realizes as the door opens again. This time, the woman through it has brunette hair and a blue dress. She's also older than the one Maria expected.

Duchess Claes wipes at her face with her hands and then looks up, clearly startled. "Miss Campbell," she says, straightening up. A chill in her reddened eyes makes Maria's palms sweat. "It's a pleasure to meet you again."

"Likewise," Maria replies, dropping into a curtsy and doing an impressive job of ignoring the tear tracks smudging the duchess's face. She nervously shifts the basket from hand to hand, and Duchess Claes notices.

"These are the sweets my daughter mentioned. The ones you make?"

"Yes."

"May I?" The duchess asks, "for Katarina and Luigi, of course. And Anne."

"Certainly." Maria tries to hand the basket over, but the older woman leans forward and selects six of the pastries instead.

"It will be dinner soon," Millidiana explains, wrapping them in her handkerchief. Maria can only nod. There's no reason to point out that dinner has never impacted her daughter's hunger.

Katarina has impressive stamina and endurance, and an appetite to match. Her consumption might be even more alarming if she had as much magic as her brother.

There's another sob from inside, and Duchess Claes sighs. "It was nice to see you again, Miss Campbell. I would like to speak with you in greater detail at a later date, though I cannot assure you when that will be."

"Oh, alright," Maria agrees, startled.

Millidiana gives Maria a final nod and returns inside.

Chapter Text

“This was supposed to be a way to keep you guys from being too busy,” complains Katarina, and her clubmates sneer at them. “You all have more important things to do.”

“Nonsense,” Geordo says lightly. “Nothing could be more important than spending time with you, Katarina. And the tryouts were more than fair, were they not?”

The response from the Upcoming Noblewoman’s Appreciation Club is a begrudging mixture of acceptance, outright disapproval, and swooning over the Student Council members. Maria is a tad startled to realize they all have admirers amongst the group now. Perhaps it's impolite, but she has a healthy dose of suspicion for the girl fawning over both Mary's and Katarina's audition performances.

Unfortunately for the club members, and thankfully for Maria's concerns, none are particularly interested either. Their hearts belong to Katarina, first and foremost.

---

She's onstage, and Mary is seeing her in her costume for the first time.

Maria suddenly understands what Alan has done. These ribbons were not so much an expression as a declaration. And if Maria is reading Mary’s face right, she fully understands what the thin strips of fabric are conveying. Far more, perhaps, than Maria understood herself.

Then it is time for the first threat to be issued against Maria’s character, and Katarina takes her hand and pulls her close for the dance, their bodies aligning neatly as they fall into step. Against all odds, Katarina delivers her lines perfectly as they waltz across the stage, warning Maria’s character away from the prince with a smooth sinister delivery. It’s a jarring contrast, and Maria has no moment to ponder if this is how it was in that other world, the one foresaw by the book. Alan’s music reaches its crescendo, and Maria prepares to break away.

Except, Katarina is holding onto her hand tightly and bowing, placing a kiss on it lightly while smirking just enough to suggest she’s still in character.

“You look beautiful,” Katarina says as she steps away, and Maria just barely manages not to trip when she realizes Katarina has been staring at the ribbons tonight, too. “The orange suits you.”

“Blue too,” Maria blurts quietly, and Katarina mouths an almost silent “thank you” as she crosses the stage.

Maria fights the urge to facepalm, quite certain Katarina misheard her.

---

The second dance very nearly undoes Maria. Why does Sophia have so many dances in this play?

Somehow, Katarina is holding her even closer than before as they spiral around the stage, the other actors parting neatly before them as the spotlight follows their movement.

"I thought I told you," Katarina says. It's not in the script, but Katarina spins Maria out and tugs her back in, cupping her jaw in one smooth motion and tilting her chin up to meet her bright eyes. "I don't share what is mine."

Dimly, Maria hears Keith drop his hoe behind her, but she's too focused on her knees not buckling to even wonder why he's on stage before his next cue.

"My mother raised me well, after all," Katarina says imperiously, glancing to the side and breaking their heated gaze. Maria blinks and follows her eyesight to Mary. Her fan is covering all but her eyes, her other hand behind it as well, and Maria almost wants to laugh at the absurdity of this moment.

---

"Lady Katarina, what exactly inspired the extra scenes with Maria?" There's no edge to Mary's voice, just genuine curiosity.

The prolonged dances hadn't been the only moments Katarina had strayed off-script with Maria. Any interaction that had dealt with them in close quarters on stage had left Maria's head spinning as Katarina suavely pulled out all the stops. Extra touches are thrown in, unscripted looks, a flimsy pretense of "prettying up the commoner" as she all but gently tucks one of Mary's orange roses into Maria's hair. All the additions had left Katarina and Maria interacting more with each other than they had with Geordo, their princely love interest!

Katarina blushes, just the tiniest bit. "Well, I… I wanted to be sure she knew how beautiful she was tonight." She straightens up then, turning to Sophia in concern. "Should I not have done that? I'm sorry - "

"It's alright. It gave the play some needed tension." Sophia gives a slight grin. "Subtext, even."

Katarina relaxes. "Well, yeah. Sometimes you just gotta provide some encouragement for your girl."

Mary and Maria trade a look. Mary mouths, "your girl?" but Maria just shrugs, equally perplexed by the abrupt conversational change.

“Maria could have any guy she wanted."

"Lady Katarina, I really don't want -"

"I mean, it’s just us girls,” Katarina says, and this time Maria shares an exasperated look with Mary. "But -"

“That’s really quite rude,” Sophia interjects, apparently fed up as well.

“Eh?”

“Girls can be attracted to girls, you know. It has happened before,” replies Sophia, with just a hint of irritation.

"Well, yeah. I was going to say -" Katarina ponders this for a moment, lost in her own world as occasionally happens. “Oh! Like Aachan!”

Mary’s eyes narrow dangerously. “Who?” Maria notices that Sophia has gone still and places a hand around both girls’ arms.

Katarina doesn’t notice, nodding to herself. “Yeah! Although now that I think about it… her coming out to me was really structured more like a love confession. That’s odd.”

Maria’s about to ask what coming out has to do with liking girls, but Sophia stands up suddenly.

“You’re such a baka.” Then, whirling, she rushes from the room.

They’re all motionless for a long moment, but Katarina is pale, staring at the doorway. Then she springs to her feet after Sophia, disappearing almost as quickly.

Maria shares a look with Mary, and then they both rush for the door as well.

Chapter Text

Nicol asked her once what her first childhood memory was. Perhaps he hoped it was of their family, or maybe he dreaded that it was of callous noble whispering. Sophia isn't sure. Truthfully, she didn't give it as much of her attention as her brother initially did.

"Darkness," she replies absently, turning the page of her latest book, and Nicol's brow shifts minutely. "I reached out and there was a spark."

"A spark?"

"Mhm. And then all I could see was bright, playful eyes, with fireflies in them."

Nicol tugs her book down. "You're talking about Katarina."

Sophia shakes her head. "No, of course not. This is - " Before, she wants to say, except it doesn't feel right. On the contrary, it feels very wrong. 

Which is ridiculous, because Sophia knows she has memories from before meeting Katarina, several in fact. She could even describe them in detail if Nicol asked. 

But Sophia had said 'bright, playful eyes,' hadn't she? Nicol knows as well as Sophia that only one person would ever be given such a description by herself. There's no other, not for her. "This is different," insists Sophia, and she winces at the skeptical tilt of his head. 

What does she remember exactly?

Darkness, like she said. It permeates the back of her mind constantly, like a mystic fog that covers an ancient shrine. She’s tried to cross that barrier multiple times and always gets confused. Is it possible to get turned around in your own mind? Sophia can’t quite explain it. There’s no time lost, no forgotten memories, or blank spaces. But occasionally, her recollections are dim for no reason, like viewing them through the paned glass.

And then reaching out, but not with her arms, no. Her heart? Soul? It hadn't been resistance, exactly, but she'd been moving towards… something. Felt it keenly within her heart. Surely it was a spark. The same one that led her here, back to… back to what, exactly?

Those eyes flashed in Sophia's mind again, and oh, they weren't right, weren't Katarina's, but they also weren't wrong. The spark in them - 

Was this the same spark she had followed?

It had been summer, late in the evening. The glow of the fireflies was reflected so prettily in her eyes, and Atsuko hadn't been able to look away. There was magic in the air, except magic doesn’t exist, but Sophia would call it love, even if Katarina couldn’t feel it. But this is not Katarina… right?

Wasn’t she? Was she? Sophia doesn’t know. But Atsuko is so grateful for this second chance so surely it has to be -

Sophia blinks, and Nicol is kneeling in front of her, hands hovering over her face as if he’s afraid to touch her but desperate to draw her back. “Where did you go?”

“I’m here now” Atsuko replies, and Nicol stiffens.

“You again,” he mutters. “What part of my sister are you?”

Unexpectedly, the urge to tease him wells from within, and Sophia wrestles with the impulse.

"The truest answer that I can give you," she starts, "is that I followed her here."

"You… followed Katarina. From that other world," Nicol realizes, and Atsuko shakes her head.

"Yes, but not the one you're thinking of."

Something in his face tells Sophia that he already knows the answer, but he asks anyway. "Why?"

"She always dies too young," Atsuko says quietly. "I was going to help, but she almost completely fixed it on her own this time. She can't help making everyone love her."

Nicol studies her face intently, as if taking in the subtle differences he's seen only flashes of. 

"You love her," he states, and it's not even a confirmation or revelation at this point. "Why do you keep pushing me?"

"She's attracted to you, and I know you would treat her properly. And she's never understood."

"You've loved her far longer than the rest of us, then."

Atsuko just waves a hand. "That's irrelevant."

Nicol shakes his head, but he doesn't argue the point. "You believe Katarina remembers your life together, correct?"

"Our past life, yes."

"I have two questions then." Nicol takes a deep breath. He's not looking her in the eyes, but looking just passed them as if it unnerves him to see a stranger within Sophia. It probably does. "Why have you not told her? And do you think the - the rest of us might be the same?"

"This part of me isn't in charge most of the time," answers Atsuko. "We're one, but not united yet. Sophia becomes a little more like me, and I become a little more like Sophia as we merge. I don't want to talk to Katarina about it until Sophia is a little more prepared."

Nicol contemplates that, eventually nodding, and Atsuko sighs internally in relief.

Sophia might not be ready, but Atsuko certainly isn't prepared, either.

"As for the other part, I can't say. Everyone felt something missing, even Lady Katarina. So while I can't think of anyone else that would feel strongly enough to reincarnate as well, that doesn't mean you aren't."

Somehow, she already knows that Nicol is not. Sophia is glad he hasn't had to suffer through this confusion.

"Can you promise me something?"

"Within reason."

"Swear that my sister will come to no harm or unhappiness with this… merger." This time, Nicol manages to look her in the eyes.

"I am Sophia, and Sophia is me," Atsuko says carefully. "I just don't know it fully yet. But I have no intention of pursuing unhappiness."

Nicol rubs his palms against his pants. "I don't really understand, but if you need to speak to someone." He cuts off, closing his eyes. "You'll have Katarina for that soon enough, though."

Sophia smiles and pulls him into a hug. "I'll always need my brother, though."