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When Franziska was a child, Papa always used to tell her one thing: “A von Karma always strives for the perfect conviction.”
Franziska wanted to be like Papa, to become a prosecutor and do her family name justice one day. So she studied and studied, spending many long nights committing every last word in her law books to memory, until she could cite every law perfectly. There was no room for error as a prosecutor, not when Lady Justice’s scales could be tipped in the wrong direction if she made the slightest mistake. The fate of defendants rested on their shoulders; it was up to them to make sure those fools got the sentence they deserved for their crimes.
She also attended Papa’s trials when she was not at school, taking in every single objection and trick up her father’s sleeve, and later reenacted them with Miles after dinner to prepare for the bar exam, until she finally earned her badge, aged thirteen.
After that, people showed surprise at her prowess everywhere she went. At only thirteen years old, Franziska was now the youngest person to ever pass the bar, as expected from the daughter of the legendary Manfred von Karma.
And yet, there was one thing Franziska never managed to earn: true respect. She was now a prosecutor, yes, but in her peers’ eyes, she was also a little girl. A child. They never seemed to truly take her seriously, even when she knew, deep down, that she was as good — no, better, even — as many of them.
So when Papa first got her her whip, Franziska was so ecstatic that she could have cried right there and then. If people wouldn’t find her worthy of respect, she would have to make them respect her, no matter the cost.
“This is a cutthroat industry,” Celeste had told Adrian on her first day as her mentor. “The slightest mistake can send a star’s reputation crashing down in a second, so it’s up to you to prevent that from happening. Do you understand?”
Adrian had nodded back then, but she would have been lying if she said the idea didn’t terrify her.
While Adrian liked to think of herself as someone responsible who always took care of even the smallest details, that didn’t change the fact that she could also be quite… clumsy. Celeste understood this, and although she gently scolded Adrian more than once, she also knew Adrian’s strengths and weaknesses like no one else and made sure to guide her so they would work in her favor, and Adrian kept working hard so she could one day be as well-recognized as Celeste.
And then, Celeste took her own life.
It took all of Adrian’s might to keep moving forward. Everywhere she went, she was met with looks of pity, like she was now a lost puppy. (They weren’t exactly wrong — Adrian did feel lost without Celeste, but what else could she do, other than keep pretending she was fine until she managed to trick even herself?)
Even Engarde, with his charming and sweet persona, had let slip his true opinion on Adrian a few times while inebriated. A coward. A pathetic excuse for a woman. But Adrian kept on her mask through the pain, dried her tears in the intimacy of her home later that night, and kept her head up high when Engarde put on his sweet guy persona again the following day.
Well, if he was planning to keep pretending to play nice, then so would Adrian. This industry was all about keeping up appearances, after all.
“Here,” Franziska said, putting the whip into Adrian’s hand. “If those fools won’t take you seriously, make them.”
Adrian fidgeted with the whip in her hands, getting used to the weight of it, feeling the leather between her fingers. It was heavier than she had originally expected, but it also brought a sense of power with it.
All this time, Adrian had thought Franziska was a strong woman. She had thought she feared nothing and no one. It turned out that deep down, she was just the same as her — a woman fully committed to her job and her passions, tired of not being treated seriously, and deciding to make herself heard, whether people liked it or not.
Then, Franziska took Adrian’s hand in hers and closed her fingers around Adrian’s, until the whip was now tightly held in her hand.
“Is this… alright?” she asked Franziska.
“Of course.” As if she had read her mind, Franziska put a gentle but firm hand on her shoulder and added, “You can be like this too, Adrian Andrews.”
Adrian smiled. She had spent many years being treated like dirt by the people around her. It was time to start making herself heard.