“It’s not visible right now?”

“Hmm… not from here at least.”

“Maybe I’ll move it a little bit more—no, wait, that reveals the other side.”

“This is probably the best it’s going to get, really.”

“Well, fine. Should I wake her up?”

“…Do it.”

Fayette nodded, then uncorked her flask and threw a generous helping of cold water at the unconscious girl’s face.

The effect was immediate.

With a gasp, the black-haired [Maid] shot up and looked around with wild eyes, before finally settling her gaze on Marie, who was standing in front of her. She blinked with confusion.

“Oh! Marie, is that really you? There was a murderer and a dead body and…”

Her voice quieted, and she paused, blinked again for a moment, then finally looked around the room. First, she saw Fayette, wearing a very unconvincing look of innocence, and then her eyes slowly panned to the edge of the room, where a blackboard had been lowered to the floor. She squinted.

“Wait a minute…”

Marie jumped to block her view, waving her hands frantically. “No, it was just a bad dream! You were imagining things! There is absolutely nothing behind there!”

With a sigh, the girl fell back down to her back and closed her eyes. “You have not gotten any better at lying Marie… I can see the blood pooling out from under there, you know.”

Fayette looked back, saw the red tint seeping through from under the blackboard, and swore. “Drat, give me a moment, I’ll get that fixed.”

She began to walk over, cleaning rag in hand, but Marie stopped her midway and shook her head. “No point hiding it at this point.” With a sigh, she sat down on a chair and looked at her old friend. “Hi Juliet, it’s been a while. A long while. I… promise there’s an explanation for this.”

“I know, I know, there's always an explanation, but I just found a long-lost friend and the first thing I see is murder! Just give me a moment to process,” the [Maid] answered, slowly opening her eyes. Resignation passed by her face, and laboriously, she rose up from the ground to her feet, brushed off her apron, and then crossed her arms, seemingly calm.

As if there wasn't a dead body a few paces away.

But she did not look at that, no she first looked to Marie, and again smiled, though a tad more shakily than on first entering the room. “So, I can see a lot has happened, but first—who’s the murderer-[Maid]?” She asked, nodding at Fayette.

“Ah—introductions,” Marie yelped, shooting up to her feet. “Fayette, this is Juliet, who used to be my [Maid]-in-waiting. Juliet, this is Fayette, she is…”

“Your [Maid]?” Juliet asked.

“Yes,” Fayette answered.

“No,” Marie answered, at the same time, then caught herself. The two looked at each other.

And Juliet raised an eyebrow, sensing something... interesting. “Okay, I’m starting to get the picture. Nice to meet you,” she said, stepping to Fayette, hand extended for a greeting.

Fayette shook it, gripping a bit harder than was properly polite. “Fayette, a pleasure.”

“Juliet Morell, likewise.”

Fayette smiled her friendliest smile and let go of the [Maid’s] hand. Taking steps back, the two [Maids] examined each other. And looking at the other [Maid’s] bearing, Fayette felt… oddly irritated.

Juliet Morell had a Maid uniform, yes, one tinted blue in the manner of the academy’s staff, but it just wasn’t proper. Her skirt was hiked up a fair bit, revealing a flash of ankle here and there, and her hair wasn’t tied up at all, rather hanging free and loose. Her apron wasn’t plain white, as little stylized fish had been embroidered all over it. Most shockingly of all, her nails were painted violet, and her lips had a dash of lipstick on them too!

Absolutely scandalous! Not proper at all! Fayette worked her facial muscles desperately, trying to stop her brilliant smile from devolving into a grimace.

But Juliet just calmly looked over Fayette, then at Marie, then back to Fayette again, until finally she seemed satisfied. “You know, I’ve never met a [Murderer] before.”

“It’s not a murder, but an assassination,” Marie corrected. “You know—politics.”

"Really now?" Juliet snorted and waved a dismissive hand, “Psh, that’s just something rich people say to feel better about it.”

Fayette finally let her forced smile fade and glared at the girl. Hey, that was my line! She crossed her arms and looked at Julie with doubt. “You’re taking this oddly well. It's a murder, as you said. Not going to go scream for help?”

Juliet didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, as if at a tea party, she sat down on a nearby chair and leaned back. “I’ve worked at the academy for three years, I’ve dealt with worse. Just a little shock. And if she’s going around arranging murders, I trust Marie has a good reason for it.”

“You’re really not angry or… something?” Marie asked, equal parts shocked and relieved.

“Well, of course I’m rattled that my little Marie’s mixed up in something like this,” she said, pointing to the blackboard, where the blood was becoming increasingly visible. She leaned back in her chair and caught a glimpse of the corpse, and flinched back at the sight. “But well… this fellow was always pretty annoying.”

Fayette was oddly impressed. She is pretty easygoing, reacting like that to all this. Does that come with working for [Mages] and such?

“We have a lot of catching up to do, but how did you find us anyway?” Marie asked, collapsing backward on her bench.

“Easy, I finished preparing the final dishes for the big dinner, and finally followed my [Story to Tell] skill—it was telling me that someone here had a lot of gossip to share with me!” Juliet answered. “I’ve leveled up a fair bit in these years.”

“Oh, that sounds useful useful, but wait—” Marie said, thinking. She shot up to her feet. “Did you say final dish?”

Juliet nodded. “The event will be ending soon.”

“Oh no! I have to be there for the ending bit, can I still make it?” Marie asked, panic rising.

“I have things handled here, don’t worry,” Fayette said with a reassuring pat to the shoulder.

“I think you can still make it. I can help here, so don't tarry,” Juliet responded.

“Thanks, Fayette! Thanks, Juliet. Right—no blood on me, is there?” Marie said, hurrying to the door as she examined her clothes.

“All clear,” Fayette answered.

“Yes, good, meet up with me once you’re done,” Marie said, opening the door, dashing through, and slamming it closed behind her. Fayette heard her footsteps tapping down the hallway outside until they faded. And then the [Lady] was gone.

And Fayette was alone with the new [Maid]. A deep silence descended.

“So…” Juliet began.

“So?” Fayette replied, crossing her arms.

“So, what’s the plan?” Juliet asked, rising up and pointing at the dead body.

Fayette blinked. Oh, right—plan…

“Yes, there was a plan, wait a moment,” she said, hurrying to the blackboard and then lifting it up. She began taking it back to its proper place, up on the wall, revealing the massacred body in its full glory.

Juliet paled a bit at the gory sight, but stood firm, examining it. She snapped her fingers. “Wait a moment, I think I see what you're doing. This arrangement—you’re trying to frame the ripper, right?”

Fayette looked back at her, impressed, and nodded. “That’s right. I was trying to make it look right, and then you walked in.”

Completely ignoring my “cleaning-in-progress” sign, she sulkily added to herself.

Juliet was nodding along, looking the body over, “I can see it, it’s almost right, but the details—I don’t think they quite match up with what you’re going for.”

“What do you mean? Have you seen one of the victims?”

“No, thankfully not, but I have heard all of the gossip, and I do mean all of it.” Juliet gestured at the body, pointing at the myriad stab wound all over it. “You’re missing the blood. There’s too little of it. All the descriptions I’ve heard have said it was pooling all over.”

Fayette stepped over to the corpse and immediately realized her mistake. “Ah, you’re right! I had to move it from by the door, and I didn’t know what the plan was, so I cleaned away a lot if it then.”

“Can you get it back?”

“Yes, it’s simple,” Fayette said, eyes focused on the body. She reached into her apron, and took out a flask filled with red liquid—it had been a simple matter to collect it all away with her magic. “Good thing I kept it with me—give me a moment,”

She uncorked it, then whipped the flask in her hand, sending forth several sprays of blood over the body and the wall behind it. She stepped back and examined her work like a painter judging her canvas. “Did I get it right?”

Juliet stepped closer, and gave the body one more lookover, before nodding. “I think that’s about right. So…”

“So?” Fayette asked.

Juliet looked back at her. “So, what’s the next part of the plan.”

“Oh… right. Umm—” Fayette looked at the corpse, then around the room, and slowly, almost like gears turning and more like brooms sweeping away dirt, her thoughts came into focus. “Now… we make sure there’s nothing left from us here—fingerprints or the sort.”

She looked at the other [Maid] who had stepped away from the body, and once more felt a flash of irritation at Juliet’s relaxed attire. But even sloppy as it may be, it was still a [Maid’s] uniform. “

And a [Maid] always had one job.

You’re a [Maid] too, then?”

Juliet raised an eyebrow, then gestured at her fish-patterned apron. “Well, yes. Of course I am.”

Fayette smirked confidently and took out her cleaning rag. “Well then, can you clean?”

 

—

 

Fayette slammed the door behind her as she followed Juliet out of the room. She felt irritated.

Because Juliet really had been able to clean and had even seemed more experienced than Fayette at cleaning away evidence of trespassing. Almost as if she was used to being discrete about her doings…

And for some reason, Fayette didn’t like it. Gah, why am I feeling so competitive suddenly?

But she forced the grumbling down, a normal neutrality to her face, and followed Juliet out to the hallway, [Eavesdrop] ready to detect anybody nearby.

[Great teamwork in cleaning up the evidence!]

[Progress to next level: 75%!]

Fayette let out the breath she had been holding. “I think we’re in the clear.”

Juliet’s stiff poise relaxed too, and she slowed her walk to a more natural cadence. “Can’t say I want to do something like that again, but the first-time bonus for experience is nice.”

“Should we be talking like this? Out in the open?” Fayette asked, looking at the closed doorways lining the hallway, a bit nervous.

“Don’t worry, it’s [Between You and Me], nobody will be able to make out what we’re saying.”

Fayette looked at the other [Maid], narrowing her eyes. Juliet’s skills, [Between You and Me] and [Story to Tell], there was a theme to them. Is she possibly…?

“What kind of [Maid] are you anyway?” she finally asked, relenting to her curiosity.

“That’s usually private, you know? But I suppose I don’t mind… just don’t tell Marie yet. I want to do a big reveal about the upgrade I got.”

“Fine—I won’t, but what is it?”

Juliet smiled conspiratorially. “I’m a [Gossiping Maid].”

That… really doesn’t sound too useful. And besides—

“You know all this is strictly secret, right?” Fayette asked.

Juliet rolled her eyes. “Oh, so just because I’m a [Gossip] I can’t keep a secret? No—that is what separates a true [Gossip] from an amateur. You have to know what stories to share, and what to keep to yourself. As long as you know it all. Besides, that skill you were just using, isn’t it in my line of work too?”

Fayette glared back. True, she had [Eavesdrop], so that she could hear all the juicy gossip like a proper [Maid] was supposed to, but she wasn’t really a gossiping [Maid], was she?

And it was absolutely not because she never had many friends to share her gossip with!

“…Fine, I’ll relent the point.”

Juliet smiled, satisfied, and began leading Fayette through the academy’s twisting hallways. But she was only silent for five seconds before her eyes darted back to her new acquaintance.

“So…” She started

“So?” Fayette replied. I’m starting to get tired of this bit…

“So, I didn’t really have time to get a measure of her myself, but—” Juliet slowed her walk until she was by Fayette’s side, then whispered in her ear. “Is Marie going through a phase again?”

Fayette missed a step.

“A—a phase? What do you mean?”

“Oh you know, hair dyed all black, hanging out with dead bodies and murderers—” Juliet mock-gasped. “Oh no—don’t tell me she’s writing poetry again!”

“What—no! Wait, what do you mean again? She used to—?” Fayette asked, stumbling with her words.

“Nope! Lips sealed!” Juliet responded, pacing back in front again. “If she isn’t doing it, then there’s no way I can reveal Marie’s dark past with poetry! I’m not saying a word about it!”

Aren’t you saying quite a few? Fayette sped up, until she was back by Juliet’s side. “Wait, tell me more.”

Juliet looked at her with a side-eye, and there was just a hint of playfulness to her almost-smile. “Well—if you insist—I suppose I can reveal just a bit…”

“Juliet,” A gruff voice suddenly said from right behind Fayette.

She jumped, and Juliet next to her instantly spun around on her heel, coming to a surprisingly proper curtsey. Fayette stepped back and finally saw the man who had suddenly appeared behind her. An instant irritation struck her brow at seeing that distinctive outfit and arrogant bearing.

The [Butler]. Grey mustache and all. Bertuccio.

“Sir—I’m headed back to the dining hall, right away!” Juliet said, still down in her curtsey, and her voice much more formal than it had been moments before.

Bertuccio stood still, examining her, until finally he gave the smallest of nods, and Juliet rose back up. Then his eyes turned to Fayette, who was standing still, frozen. His eyes didn’t change one bit, and his tone stayed level.

“New servants are supposed to be with Miss Aughart at this moment.”

Juliet responded before Fayette could, curtseying again. Sensing her eyes, Fayette curtseyed too.

“Sir! Fayette and I have worked for the same employer before, so I was showing her how things here work on my own! My apologies!”

Bertuccio didn’t say anything, but Fayette felt his eyes crawling all over her, for much too long. Almost as if he was seeing something…

A shiver went through her. Is there a bit of blood left somewhere? Or does he have a skill that can see things I’ve washed off? Forcing herself to keep calm, Fayette kept down in her curtsey, motionless.

She didn’t hear him move.

Suddenly, a cold finger was on her forehead, and Fayette felt a shock go through her. She stumbled back, reeling, as something was happening to her. Tingles all over. Eyes-wide, she looked forward and saw Bertuccio staring at her, calm and measuring. Not at blood on her apron, or at any incriminating objects—no—he was looking at her forearms.

And with a start, Fayette realized that her lines of magical runes were flaring up, and visible all over her skin.

Pulsing, accelerating.

She felt her magic bond strain and twist. Then something in her apron pocket shattered, and her flask of water burst, drenching her apron through.

And then her magic relaxed, going back to normal. The runes retreated down her arms and disappeared away from sight. Fayette trembled.

And Bertuccio stared, then finally, seeing the lines disappear, calmly nodded.

“Interesting,” was all he said.

Then the [Butler] turned, and began to walk back down the hallway, leaving Fayette and Juliet there, standing in shock.

Fayette stared at her wet apron and felt the water dripping down her leg. If that flask of blood had still been there…

“Juliet, is that skill of yours on?”

The other [Maid] took out a drying rag and handed it over. “[Between You and Me]? Yes.”

Fayette accepted the rag and began wiping herself down. “Does it work on him?”

“Yes, it should at least—it’s one of my better skills and I’ve certainly used it around him before.”

Fayette closed her eyes and forced all her anger down to her core. “I really hate [Butlers]. Really really really.”

Bertuccio finally stepped behind a corner, disappearing from sight, and Juliet nodded. “I get what you feel. He works directly for the big boss, and everyone has to jump when he says so. And he does that suddenly-behind-your-back thing all the time!”

Fayette bit her lip, almost tasting blood. So, if we want to take out the [Grand Magus], we’ll have to go through him—and he can easily see through and mess with my magic. And he knows now.

She activated [Dry Laundry], and dragging her hand over the fabric, dried out the rest of her uniform. Fayette looked back at Juliet and finally felt a measure of understanding regarding the other [Maid’s] slightly relaxed uniform, which she now saw was more rebellious than sloppy.

If I had to work for a guy like that every day… Fayette handed back the drying rag, and smiled with sympathy. “You know, being able to talk trash behind someone’s back... that skill of yours is more useful than I thought.”

Juliet smiled too. “Really? Thanks, but those magical runes of yours—they looked pretty stylish to be honest, I wish I had some, I remember when Marie first got them and…”

Her sentence suddenly stopped, as if running from a cliff, and Juliet’s face froze. “Oh, right. Oh.”

“What? Did we forget something?” Fayette asked, concerned.

Juliet shook her head, but her eyes were elsewhere, as if looking somewhere far away. “No, it’s just… I forgot something. Forgot to tell Marie something very important.”

“Something between the two of you?”

Juliet sighed and leaned back against the wall, cupping her forehead. “No, it’s just… It wasn’t just Marie and me back then, you know? We had a—well—not a mother but… a nursemaid, you know? She got dismissed at the same time as me.”

Fayette nodded, even if she didn’t really understand the issue. “It is like that in larger noble households, isn’t it? A nursemaid to watch after the children.”

Juliet bit her lip. “Well, she works here in Saint Jean too, we came at the same time. She was still sort of taking care of me. Still is I suppose.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Fayette asked. “If you and Marie are close as sisters, isn’t it great Marie can see her too?”

“No—you see, Mercie doesn’t work at the academy like me—” Juliet said, nodding forward to where the [Butler] had walked. “She works directly under him. At the [Grand Magus’s] household, understand? And keeping secrets like that so close to Bertuccio…”

She shook her head. “It just can’t be done.”

Fayette looked back forward, and shivered again, remembering that cold finger on her forehead. Unnaturally cold, like a dead man’s. Almost as if it was still there, pressing at her. She felt a headache coming on. Great. More trouble.