The next days of Rosa Chesterfield were busy, busy days.

Now, Rosa Chesterfield was good at a great variety of things. One of that great variety of things was the use of information as a motivating factor to get questionable people to bend to her will. This, as ambiguous as it may sound, was not blackmail, mind you. Definitely not.

....Who are we kidding. It was blackmail.

Yes, Rosa Chesterfield was very, very, quite uncomfortably good at blackmailing, and this particular skill was to be greatly employed in the coming days.

And the first step to her masterminded blackmailing scheme began with none other than her own father: Fake Dad, as it were.

"Please consider the fact that you have neglected, neglected, a mere child for the first fifteen years of her life."

There were only three High Dukes in the current nation of Durova, and Duke Chesterfield was one of them. He was a man of considerable build, who usually ended up looming over whoever was near him... but one would not know that if they saw him now.

He attempted to smile at this late-found daughter of his as gracefully as he could, so that nobody would really notice how his ankles were shaking below the table.

Rosa uncrossed and re-crossed her legs, rearranging her skirt idly. Her voice was cool and her gaze was sharp. "Or should I remind you of the scandal from eighteen years ago that you worked so hard to bury...?"

The Duke jolted up at that, his cheeks jiggling from the sudden movement. Paling, he took out his handkerchief to wipe at the sweat starting to form on his forehead. "I don't know what you're talking about," he managed, dabbing at his neck surreptitiously.

Rosa raised an eyebrow, her hands stilling on her lap. "Then perhaps you'll be happy to be reminded of what you did in the morning newspapers tomorrow."

His eyes shook uncontrollably, but it would be a testament to his many years in the aristocracy that it was barely noticeable. He fell back gingerly against his chair, maintaining somewhat of a relaxed form despite how strained his muscles really were.

"...want."

"Hmm?" Rosa asked sweetly, tilting her head as strands of her sparkly hair flowed down to one side. "What was that, my dear father?"

The High Duke took a deep, shuddering breath, and let it out again. He forced himself to unlock his jaw and repeat himself. "I said, dear child, what do you want?"

If, as she leaned forward, Rosa's sweet smile turned downright vicious for a second, nobody in the room knew but the Duke.

She cornered her next target in the tea room of the Academy cafeteria. 

Daintily putting down her cup of tea, Rosa tucked her hair behind her ear, the most innocent expression known to mankind on her face. "So Remington, did you just say you are to have a ball in a month's time?"

"No?" The poor Frederick Remington, it must be said, was quaking in his very fashionable boots. He didn't know what it was about this infamous Rosa Chesterfield, but after his initial daze of admiration that had led him to follow her into this tea room, he'd just been getting these... chills... from her. He shuddered. "I, we've never talked before this??"

"Oh, come now. I'm sure you told me."

"We- we are having a ball in a month, but I'm saying I never told you--"

"Aha!" Triumphant (for some odd reason), Rosa nodded slowly in satisfaction, leaning back. "Yes, I knew you were. Now, what do you know about a certain lady by the name of Elisabeth?"

Frederick shook his head. "Nothing! Never heard of her in my life."

Rosa leisurely swirled her tea with her little teaspoon. "You really sure about that? The name Elisabeth Demin doesn't, oh, ring a bell or two?"

Now, in his defense, Frederick really did rack his memories. His eyes shifted left and right as he tried to remember anything about an Elisabeth Demin he had ever heard of. But alas, not a single Elisabeth (or an Elisabeth Demin at that) surfaced in his mind. "I really don't, really!"

His companion sighed impatiently. "Do you really want to do this the hard way, Sir Benedict Remington?"

"Benedict?" echoed the poor boy. "I'm not Benedict. That's my brother."

She frowned. "Wait, you're not Benedict?"

He shook his head.

"Then what Remington are you?"

"Uh... Frederick?" He scratched his head. "I'm known for my fashionable boots business," he supplied helpfully when Rosa made no response, pointing at his boots. She regarded it for a moment-- they were pretty fashionable, in a high-class-cowboy kind of way-- before she threw up her hands in disgust.

"Gah! Then who's Benedict?"

"My older brother, he-- Oh!" Frederick pointed his finger out the open window. "There, that guy walking outside! That's him!"

When Frederick turned back to look at the Chesterfield girl again, she had vanished. He blinked, his hand still frozen in place. "What the...?"

Two days later, a muffled scream could be heard from the ladies' restroom in the cafeteria before it cut off abruptly. Or, more accurately, before it was cut off abruptly by a strong hand, despite its rather sparkly smooth skin.

"Keep quiet," hissed the strong girl. "Keep quiet, or we're going to do this the hard way."

The girl whimpered, but she shakily managed to make somewhat of a nod.

Letting her go, Rosa Chesterfield (for of course it was none other than Rosa Chesterfield) stole a glance behind her to check that her employed sp-- ahem, her, ah, helpful maid, was in place by the door of the restroom to ensure nobody else came in. She turned back to the girl in question and leveled her with a raised eyebrow. "Didn't know you were going to be so shrieky, but alright. Desiree Kiltred?" she asked, her tone brisk.

She'd learned from her previous mistake-- full names needed to be asked when checking for identities. Who knew how many Lady Kiltreds were out there?

Desiree Kiltred nodded, scared out of her wits.

"Good." With a short nod, Rosa pulled her out of the way-too-glorious bathroom stall and made her sit on the stool she had prepared just for this occasion. (This was the world of an otome game-- despite living in medieval worlds, their bathroom stalls were quite modern. You know, magic, and whatnot.) She sat down on her own stool and crossed her legs. "Now, I want to ask you a favor."

"A favor?" Desiree repeated, her voice trembling as hard as her hands. Her knees shook, too, and her eyes darted left and right, her mind obviously going a million miles a minute.

"Yes. Now, I've heard from my sources that you--"

"Wait!" the poor girl blurted out. Her eyes, which hadn't looked straight at Rosa a single time since she'd been ambushed, finally met Rosa's piercing gaze. "Can it, can it wait?"

Rosa frowned. "What--"

"I'm gonna burst!"

Ah yes. A brief intermission was necessary for the lady to do about her delicate business. Rosa waited outside with her helpful maid to give her privacy, as was the polite thing to do at the Academy during this time. ("Bina, wanna see something cool?" "No, milady." "I can touch the back of my hand with my thumb." "You've shown me a hundred times already, milady." "Now that's just exaggerating. I'll allow a range of 40 to 80 times, but hundred is way too much. Even if you consider that I showed you this once every week since we've met--")

By the time they heard the (magical) flush of the (magical) toilet, Bina the exasperated maid was on her hundredth sigh (and that wasn't an exaggeration), and Rosa was inside with her legs crossed again with a calmer-looking Desiree Kiltred.

"Now, Lady Kiltred," Rosa absolutely purred, a gleeful smile on her face. "Are you ready to--"

"Please give me a moment," said the lady, quite a lot more pleasant than she had been before. In her defense, she hadn't expected to be ambushed in the bathroom stall by the notorious Rosa Chesterfield two seconds away from pulling her clothes off in privacy. Most anyone would be shaken up by that. 

Rosa threw up her hands. "What now!"

Eyebrows raised, Lady Kiltred held up her hands. "I must wash my hands."

Well, that was indeed necessary. Rosa sat on her stool, waiting, as the lady elegantly washed her hands and dried them with her handkerchief.

"Okay, now are you ready to talk?"

"Yes," replied the lady serenely, "though I suppose you wouldn't mind taking this talk to my private chambers instead? It would be unpleasant to find out we kept other ladies from using this bathroom just for our selfish reasons."

Rosa sighed. She was right, she really was, but this was getting way too tedious for her. They would've been finished by now, if only they weren't in the bathroom!! "Alright, alright," she said wearily, standing up and dragging her stool away. "To the private chambers we go. And then we talk."

And so they went to Rosa's private chambers, as it was nearer and Rosa wasn't quite sure she trusted Desiree Kiltred's chambers at all. And, well, by the end of that session, Desiree Kiltred was well and most efficiently blackmailed, and Rosa came to a conclusion that she would never ambush anybody in the bathroom ever again.

It was just way too much work.

---

A/N: I'm back!! After, like, too many weeks (months??) after I said I would be!!!! Ahaha oops--

But really, sorry for all the wait! I had a lot of things to process and a lot of things to adapt to, and though this story was always (and by always I mean pretty constantly) on the back of my mind, I didn't have either the energy or the time to come back to it without overextending myself too much. However, with this update¹which, by the way, is the 100th update of this story, though not the 100th chapter yet I should be back to updating more regularly, so fear not! :D (There was also a bit of a writer's block involved, but we don't talk about that. Lol.)

For now, please expect a minimum of one update per week (I have finals, unfortunately); I will expand on this update schedule little by little. Thank you for those of you who waited (extra sorry to those of you who waited), and let's get back into Rosa and Filian's shenanigans once again. We're about to get into the nitty gritty now, so enjoy! >:)