Nero smiled courteously as she looked to one side, her blue eyes meeting Gillian's for a second. "My, so eager to start, sir Gillian? I thought you were beyond chasing around maid skirts, but alas, you prove me wrong. Although the induction... well I suppose i should comply. You seem to know how to handle your...sword around." Nero giggled somewhat, before adressing Fanilly.

"It was an stupid conclusion to an stupid duel, yet both we chose to honor it. We thought that this outfit would be embarassing to someone of our...disposition. But given what my previous outfit was, I find this a welcome change." The eldest of the Sunfield siblings then spun around herself, flailing her skirt around as if to prove a point. "We never set a definite duration, but since you are my mistress now, you may choose to dismiss me anytime. In fact, if you don't want me as maid, it just means less work for me."

"I also did say I would join the roses, so if you want another knight... you know what to do, mistress." Nero added, a strange smirk forming in her face.

Clearing her throat, she looked at Tyaethe. "I understand your reticence, oh venerable lady. But rest assured that If I know the princess enough, she will be delighted." She chuckled so slightly. "See, us Sunfields have more than loyalty to the throne, in fact we both have a faint claim to the throne as it stands. We will never inherit that, but it grants us access to mingle with the royal family." Nero explained, her hand open.

"Sult happened to eat princess Eliabelle's 7th birthday cake in a bout of mischievousness... so there's been a grudge between these two as long as my grudge between her and I. Which I think it was due to me condemning the whole incident by denouncing my own sister." Nero finished, her eyes peeking.

"Besides, you probably should worry more about the mascot lady Delacroix brought yesterday. I never watched it leave."

Fanilly was silent for a few moments. Well, that explained why Princess Eliabelle would be glad to have a Sult she could exert control over... even if it seemed like a bit of an absurd explanation, it still was one. But this situation, well... Nero was a knight. Fellow nobility. And now she was dressed as a maid, under the loss conditions of a... very very strange duel. After a few moments of silent confusion, the blonde tried desperately to figure out some sort of response. It wouldn't be proper to completely discount the conditions of the duel, and yet... could she simply declare a fellow noble her maid? No, she could not, and she did not want to. Yet there had to be some sort of compromise, something that could be done...

The short girl took a deep breath. Now, perhaps, she had hit upon a reasonable idea that would neither entirely ignore the duel's conditions nor enter into the... strange... maidly circumstances that were being involved. Especially given she could not imagine Sult would not be returned to their order.

"You... will work as a maid for today, and after that we will discuss your joining of our order," Fanilly declared. Yes. This, at least, made some level of sense to the girl.

Of course, today would soon become somewhat more complicated.

"A-ah... N-no, but I won't deny that he certainly scared me stiff. Doesn't help particularly much that he knocked me to the ground and all that," Tiral said, nervously laughing as he took Marianne's hand to right himself. "Still, thanks for the ai- oh, darn, my food's gone to waste."

With a glance to where the bread had fallen, Tiral sighed as he glanced around to find where all of his scattered papers had fallen, only to find that the beast that had leaped onto him earlier was still staring daggers at him.

"I swear, I didn't even DO anything..." he complained to himself internally as he broke off eye contact, instead kneeling down to help pick up the assortment of magic circles that had been scattered around.

"Actually, I ended up coming here by sheer coincidence; the original plan was to go to find that magician's projection that had showed up while we were out for some advice on the circles you see lying around now, but seeing how you were out here, I figured there might be another solution," he began, collecting the last few papers that hadn't been picked up by the other maids. "Would you mind helping me test these things out? They're anti-electricity wards that siphon the magic towards whatever object lies in the center of them, since last time I encountered electricity, well..."

A nervous laughter escaped him lips before he began to collect whatever the maids had picked up.

"They redirect electricity, so I think if you're tricky enough, you could set up some fairly devious traps with a few in hand. Are you free enough to try something out, or did you have some other outstanding plans today?"

Ian yawned as he slowly walked along a path to the Iron Rose headquarters, he was fully armored and was carrying his weapons only because he wasn't comfortable leaving them in the tavern he slept at and he still had no place of his own at the actual Iron Rose base. He hadn't bothered to hide his canine features either, his tail was casually swishing out from behind the cape of his armor and his ears were standing open proudly, if also tiredly. He had forgotten, or was maybe unable, to stop by Gillian room last night for that book and was actually on his way there now to see about it, passing through the courtyard not even noticing Marianne and Tiral in his tired state.

When he finally got to Gillian's room he had entirely forgotten about the knight's request that he knock and groggily stumbled through the door murmuring "Gillian?" only to find the room devoid of the man. Shrugging, he figured that if he didn't mind his taking it, he wouldn't mind him helping himself to it, and so he began scouring the room for the book knocking over many more things than he normally would were he fully awake. When he got to the bed, however, he stopped and sat on it, Spirits it was comfortable, he slowly flopped over to be laying on it. The reason for his weariness this morning happened last night, though he had been on the side that saw less action he had been ambushed by the girls he had met during the party as he tried to leave the castle. He had spent the night with them in activities that steadily increased in rigorousness as the night went on until he eventually did take his leave of them, stumbling into the tavern smelling heavily of the girls and getting only a few minutes of sleep before the bustle of the day beginning woke him back up. Which is why now he was currently fast asleep upon Gillian's bed.

Marianne Delacroix

Marianne's eyes narrowed and she turned her head to shoot Ricard a glare. To which, Ricard quickly cast his gaze to the side, acting as if he did nothing wrong. Which he truly believed he didn't do anything wrong. He was merely 'protecting' his human from a stranger, how was he supposed to know that Sir Tiral was a comrade and friend? Marianne rolled her eyes and shook her head, why was she the one having to keep her cohorts in check? Her giggly gaggle of schoolgirl-acting maids, and her vicious guardian and companion paranoid and overly protective? She loved them, truly she did, but sometimes she wondered why her family ever bothered to send such troublesome mates to 'look after her' when she was the one 'looking after' them? Such a bother.

"Well, I do apologize Sir Ricard gave you a fright. He is very mistrusting of others and overly protective, along with paranoid."
Following Tiral's gaze, she saw his dropped piece of bread and her expression sadden.
"Oh dear, I will have to make it up to you. I know! Later shall we have lunch together? To replace the dropped loaf? I will have my maids cook something up sufficient as compensation for my companion's trespasses"
Helping the young man up to his feet, she collected the other papers from the maids and handed them to the Mage Knight.
Tilting her head, she blinked upon the mention of 'testing'.
Looking at one of the papers she held in her hand, she examined the inscribed symbols as she thought for a moment.
"Testing? Anti-electricity wards?..."
Oh dear, that's right.
She had once accidentally electrocuted Tiral in one of their first missions together.
Her face reddened and she looked away from Tiral.

The maids all looked at one another and covered their mouths.
"My, my. Sir Tiral... You are not perhaps trying to find methods of nullifying Lady Marianne's abilities, are you?"
Another maid rolled up her sleeve and punched her palm a few times, giving Tiral a dirty look.
"You best not be thinking of doing something obscene to our dear Lady with such wards, Sir!"
"Whatever use could one have with such wards? He must be up to no good."
"Devious traps indeed! He must have an eye for our Lady!"
"To think, the boy believes himself in such a league to charm her!"
"Laughable, though it is absolutely adorable!"
"Hmph! How underhanded, relying on such tricks to take advantage of her! Are you not a man?"
"Dear, oh dear, he must desire a death sentence at the hands of Sir Ricard!"
"Silly boy!"
The maids all erupted into fits of laughter.
It was clear they were just poking fun at Tiral with their sharp tongues, but there were two that didn't think their jests were so amusing.
One was Marianne, who was gritting her teeth as a vein pulsed in her temple, glaring at her maids.
The other was Ricard, whose ears picked up their words and took them to mean truth, growling and exposing his fangs at Tiral as his hackles raised.
Marianne stamped her foot.
"Ladies! That is enough!"
The maids all jumped, startled, but they continued their conversation amongst themselves.
Whispering behind their hands and occasionally casting dark looks at Sir Tiral, giggling every now and then.
It was obvious they were suspicious of him for having designed 'anti-electricity wards' and then requesting Marianne help him test them out.

Marianne sighed and rubbed her temples.
"But yes, Sir Tiral. I do not have much planned for today and would be delighted to aid you in testing your wards. I had actually planned to approach you myself in need of assistance with certain magical affairs."
She saw the on-guard Ricard behind her and turned to walk over to him, reaching up to pet and caress his snout to calm him down.
"Shh, shh, mon ami. Qu'ils plaisantaient"
Facing Tiral as she continued to soothe the white furry beast, she resumed speaking.
"As you may know, I am not the best mage myself. I was hoping to ask for private tutoring or training sessions to improve my spell casting abilities and maybe learn new spells. Perhaps even enchant my weapons to preserve mana? You are the only one I know that demonstrates great magical skill that I would be willing to work with, so this works out. No?"
The maids erupted into another fit of giggles at the words "private tutoring".
Marianne frowned.
She wanted to throw a rock at them.

"Lunch together? Er, I'm not sure if that's quite necessary..." the mage trailed off as the commentary of the maids began to take a turn for the worse. Tiral's eye twitched at their jokes and laughter, their behavior growing more and more aggravating with each passing moment.

"And this. Is why. I don't hire help," he said through gritted teeth before quickly attempting to rein in any temper. It was unusual for him to become angry, but in a situation like this, he felt entirely justified in wanting to open a pitfall under them.

Oh, if only he could.

"In any case... Right, regarding the wards. If you're willing to help with that, then there shouldn't be much of a problem," he said, walking off to the side and placing one of his circles on the ground before drawing his sword and stabbing it through the center, filling the circle with mana as he did so. "Fire some electricity to the side of my blade, then keep increasing the distance between your shot and the sword until your magic goes perfectly straight. For now, I want to see which circle has the best effective range at redirection."

With that said and done, Tiral calmly walked away from his sword, chanting quietly enough to not register that his lips had even moved. As the chant finished, a small bit of ice formed under a few of the maids' feet: just enough to cause them to slip if they moved, but little enough such that the ice would disappear the moment after they had fallen.

"Hate the gossipy sort of people..." he thought to himself as he stopped by the tree the wolf had been hiding behind earlier.

"Whenever you're ready, then. There's no need to be exact, but since this is magic we're testing, I recommend that anyone who doesn't have any means of protection from magic back off a bit."

Marianne Delacroix

"Oh, but I insist, Sir Tiral. Had it not been for Ricard, you would not have lost your snack. Along with being accosted."
She turned and lightly smacked Ricard's snout as she walked after Tiral.

Ricard huffed, and grunted. Displeased.

Watching intently as the young man worked in preparing his ward, when he explained what he required of her, Marianne frowned.
Waving and calling after him as he walked over by the tree, she started after him.
"Ah, Sir Tiral? You might be a bit mistaken. I-....I, ah...I only know two spells. And the side effects of my peculiar condition does not constitute a spell in and of itself. I....I can't simply cast lightning magic on c-"
There was a commotion behind her, causing her to stop in her stride and turn.
"G-gah!"
"Heee!"
"OOP!"
Marianne blinked watching as a few of her maids suddenly and curiously lost their footing. It was quite a sight to witness as skirts flew up and the off-balance maids grabbed onto one another, pulling each other down with them as cloth was ripped and torn. A tangle of limbs and shrieks and cries. The ladies scrambled over top of one another to readjust their dresses and masks, all in a tizzy trying to figure out what exactly just happened.
"TH-the ground must be terribly uneven here!"
"Are there rocks around?"
"M-maybe our heels caught on the terrain!"
All flustered and bearing shattered, Marianne couldn't help but erupt into laughter. Holding her side with one arm and covering her mouth with the other. She wanted to point and laugh, but that would've been a bit mean. Ricard taking to her side, the giant wolf tilted his head at the gaggle of ladies, wondering what was wrong.
"Serves them right." Marianne thought.
Sighing contentedly after she had her laugh, she wiped at tears from the corners of her eyes and turned to Sir Tiral.
She could only guess that this was his doing, but she wasn't mad.
No, far from it.
It wasn't often anyone ever dared to prank the ladies back, so to find someone actually brave enough to was a bit refreshing.
Flashing her fellow knight a smile, she winked at him.
After the maids righted themselves and stood, faces all blushing red, Marianne placed her hands on her hips.
"Now ladies, I am sure you were taught to have better poise and grace than that! To trip while standing still! Ma desse!"
No response or remarks from the embarrassed women, only pouting faces.
"That will be all for today, ladies! Please clean up and prepare for lunch after you have made yourselves decent again?"
Some of the maids held different parts of their dresses, torn in rather...inconvenient places when they all went tumbling.
Scrambling, making sure to watch their footing now, they quickly did as they were told and left in a quiet hurry.

Marianne shook her head and turned back to Tiral.
"But yes, I can not simply cast a lightning bolt. Hence my problem, you see?"

“It's not so much the skirt as whats inside.” Gillian teases back, electing to ignore the sword comment. The only retort he could think of was to clearify he used a spear, and somehow he doubted that would turn out in his favor. He stayed quiet as the captain gave the elder Sunfield her orders, atleast for the day. Part of him was hoping she'd dismiss the girl, but that was probably hoping agianst hope.

“Well,...” he says, stretching slightly as he digs into a pocket. “I'll let you get to your work. Doubt you'd need or want me hovering around you whilst you engage in your maidly duties. That said, do hope you consider joining our order. Can always use a woman of your diverse talents...” He pulls out a small brass key, gently tossing it to Nero. He continues, tone only slightly teasing, “My room numbers on the side. Come by after you've finished up with your jobs. We do still need to finish our...earlier discussion.”

He nods to the captain before walking off back towards the stairs, catching a glimpse of the Delacroix woman and her large furry companion (and behind her, her smaller less furry one). The wolf seemed to be in a foul mood, sensing some unseen threat. Gillian shrugs it off, heading back upstairs with little incident.

His room was dimly lit, curtains pulled tightly shut, as it always was. He perfered it this way, the lights from the surrounding city and the fortress itself were intrusive to his sleep. His foot gently knocks agaisnt some unseen clutter. He sighs gently, he'd have to tidy up before Nero came by later. Not that it would be difficult, he had such a meger collection of possessions.

He takes off his shirt, deciding to catch a few more hours of sleep. It was rare for him to have acess to a proper bed for so long, so he might as well take advantage of it. He gently flops down onto the bed, eyes about to close before he becomes aware of an unfamiliar lump. Series of lumps, actually.

He begins to trace the lump, following a path upward. Waist....chest (a mans by the tight collection of muscles)...neck...ears. Far too pointed to be a humans, and too fluffy by far. He sits up, stradling the invasive bed mate, still holding the offending ear as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. “....Ian. Why are you in my bed?” he asks, in an even tone, clearly not entirely happy about his sudden bed mate.

Rhydsar entered the library first to assess its size: large, but not as large as he expected if it was supposed to hold all of the Order's lore. Perhaps there was a private collection in the captain's quarters, or a senior knight's. "It's homely, at least," he said, about as pleasantly as he could.

"The far corner," said Gütta, "that-a-way." He was pointing off to the right of the entrance.

Rhydsar followed trustingly as if taking orders. "Here?" he said, a note of excitement in his voice.

Gütta noticed the bookworm, so he spoke in hushed whispers. "The holy codex," he hummed, "a generic one on the top shelf. No gold leaf or nothing. Figured all the knights already own a copy, and if they don't, they'd want an easier copy to get a hold of."

Rhydsar climbed to grab his “present” and it wasn’t quite clear who was enjoying this show of innocence more, the bulky criminal or the child himself. The book felt too light in his grasp; he realized quickly that a secret compartment was cut away into its pages, for in his hand it rattled; of all forms of heresy, perhaps this one was the most mysterious and intriguing Rhydsar could fathom. Gütta crossed his arms as he watched Rhydsar climb the stepladder, waiting smugly. Up there the boy smiled as he opened the book. "Just like the good old days, only now we both have a palate for it."

"The finest money can buy, doll. They use a fancy yeast or something. You wanna crack it open?"

"But we have nothing to celebrate yet except our reunion, and your generosity! Let's drink this later, to our victory."

"Sure, baby. Anything for you." Gütta was eager to sit; though not particularly tired, he made fanfare of placing his sword and his satchel of knives on a beaten old table. "Gods of earth and heaven, it's so nice and quiet sometimes. You really come to appreciate it."

"Aye; there's an air of lunacy around this place. I suppose it comes with giving the most high-risk and esoteric jobs in the kingdom to witches."

"'Most high-risk and esoteric.' Heh. Well, that's what they like to tell themselves. But guarding royalty is as exciting as you expect, even if something went down. The bandit king was exciting, I guess. But I knew I didn't want to be in some palace somewhere. Ducked out of that well enough."

"So you didn't see how she commanded that?" The she now only meant the captain in Rhydsar's mind. Despite the order having many noble she's only one of them seemed to matter.

"'Command!' Command what? You stand there in a suit, hold a spear, and look pretty. If someone starts trouble you stick him."

Any other commander in training, or really, anyone at Rhydsar's age, would have taken that personally. After all he had heard this doctrine spewed by his own troops until he found half the mind to prove them wrong. A commander who was hesitant to draw enemy blood would turn the bravest men into cowards. That was Rhydsar's first lesson, and maybe the first doctrine of his moral code. "By her choice or her advisors'?" was all he asked, trying to not show a preference either way. He hesitated. "Sorry. I don't expect you to be an expert on all the inner workings here. I suppose I'm asking if she commands the respect that her legend wants me to believe. Perhaps the order has been insulated from this, but ever since the bandit king she's been talked about. Now that she's saved a princess that's only going to grow."

Gütta sighed. "She's pre-ordained by the Gods or some crap, ain't she? Holy birth? That's got to inspire at least a little respect."

"I've been meaning to ask you. I think I won your attention before you knew of my name, and perhaps your loyalty after you did. It would be arrogant for me to assume you owe me anything."

"Sounds like you're asking a favor, m'lord; not a curiosity."

"I can get caught up in myself, and I want to ask if there is any payment I can offer, via rank or money, that you would want. Not for anything immediate, but so we both remember that if you serve me it is because I benefit you in some way." It was a cold sort of bargain. Affectionless even. Mercenary. Different from the boy who was offered the present, different even from the boy who had to learn how to walk through slums without drawing attention to himself. While it wasn't intended, the message that he judged even his only friend on utility may have become abundantly clear to the aging man.

Gütta felt compelled neither to correct the boy on his course—unlike Rhydsar, he did feel a debt gnawing at the back of his skull—nor to turn down tangible evidence of his service, precious and valuable coin. He lowered his head; he balled his hand in a fist and scratched his scalp with the knuckles. "Whatever you can afford me, m'lord," he said. Sadness stuck in his eye like a single speck of dust, glittering just there in the corner. Not that it surprised him, at the end of the day, that he was with Rhydsar to do a job, not to play cards and drink. Those were just byproducts of their agreement.

"I promise I won't let you down, then." Rhydsar's life had been governed by debts, oaths, and promises. Despite his hatred of ordering men to die for another's glory, it was his duty to repay a debt he took from his father. Despite those men having free will, they consented to die for the same reason. It wasn't right, Rhydsar knew, but knowing was only half the battle when you're raised that way.

"Any idea what the meeting might be about, then? Having someone to drink and card with makes marching easier. Maybe I'll even look forward to it."

"I don't know what I'd do without someone here to drink with." Rhydsar looked at the ale, and for a moment, was quiet.

Tyaethe stood and looked at the proceedings a few more seconds, then once more over her shoulder at the gaggle of maids outside and Marianne's dog, before concluding that there was nothing that she could really do to assist. Besides, it seemed quite under control from her perspective.

The paladin shook her head and continued forwards, to the chapels. Specifically, the Shrine of Mayon--though aside from the size, little was different between the two save from the centrepiece. Annoyingly, given the order's origins, there was nobody else in there when the armoured knight walked through. Even if so many of the knights now where less religious than the past... did this place not feel comfortable to people any more? An indoor garden of roses and lilies, and the tranquillity of a pool of water...

It was hard to tell what she was thinking as she stood beside the pool, holding a rose and watching the petals fall one by one.

---

Merilia couldn't say she cared overly much for how the furniture in the library was treated--the books were a different matter, but they were hard to replace and far more fragile. Some had even been written during her time as a teacher, even before she became a knight, and it would be annoying to have to replace those because some idiot knight had attacked simplistic introductions to various magical topics out of misguided stupidity. The furniture was of no interest to her whatsoever... but it offered a perfect excuse to play a joke on someone.

Over in Akitsushima, a mage stirred and took to writing...

The note that appeared over the pages in Jarde's book came with no warning and no fanfare: a single sheet of paper was vastly simpler to move through the world than an entire person. What it lacked in dramatic appearances, it more than made up for with an absurd--yet, to someone not expecting it, entirely reasonable--threat:

"You, defiler of tables, have been placed under the Curse of the Library. Your knees will bend backwards and your hair turn to worms, your food shall taste of dirt and your drink of wood. Your father will become a rabbit and your mother will smell of elderberries. But repent! Repent and the curse shall be broken!

Simply run thrice backwards round the courtyard, singing the Milk Bunny Song without cease."

Hopefully, he would fall for it. Watching a grown man running around backwards and singing a children's rhyme? Priceless, no matter that she'd done it before. And there was even enough unexplainable, undecipherable runes written on the flip side of the paper. There was no need for Jarde to know that it was just a missive from a member of Akitsushima's nobility inviting her to stay with them for a while.

Since she was satisfied that he would make some noise if he ran out, the former Knight-Witch decided to finish her examination of the library, which seemed to contain only two others in it for the moment. Two others, one of whom clearly holding a cut-open book, though from this angle, not one she could see the cover of. The magic user said nothing as she looked in their direction: simply an eerie girl in foreign clothes, looking ever so subtly wrong.

@PaulHaynek@pugbutter

"My, my, Sir Gillian, you're too bold..." Nero smirked as she took the key, carefully storing it in her maid apron. "I acknowledge you have a healthy interest in the flesh that these fancy wrappings hide, but to speak so boldly in front of your cute captain... I don't know what she will think." Nero jeered, as she straightened up, a hand carefully put in her hip. It was when she rolled her eyes, as she grabbed her skirt, and performing an extricate curtsy, excused herself.

"Fret not, I will visit you later, kind Sir... and I will give you what your heart most desires." Nero said, a slightly husky tingue in her voice, just like her sister would have done. Of course, she was referring to the earlier question the man had posed. But Fanilly wouldn't know that. Smiling widely internally, she was beginning to see why her little sister had deigned to put some effort in entering this order, rather than the usual foolish attitude of hers which she had been reviled for in the past. "If you'll excuse me..."

She said, distancing herself from the assorted knights with decided, strong steps. She took several turns with grace and decision, as she opened the door of the kitchen. Sighing, she shrugged.

"Alright, maid for a day, this can't be that difficult. What was the recipe Liliwen used to make, the elven bread?" She said to herself, as she began to browse the assorted ingredients and tools.

For a few moments, Fanilly's mouth quietly opened and closed and she remained in embarrassed silence. Of course, it was hardly her business what her knights did in private(provided they didn't do anything criminal at least), but to hear such things... She managed only a little bit of mumbling before falling silent, cheeks burning with her embarrassment as she slowly directed her eyes to the floor.

"... G-goodbye, Sir Gillian, and... and..." she hesitated again. Just what was Nero's title now...? She settled on the one that, to her, at least made the most sense. "D-Dame Nero..."

She snapped herself out of it after both knights... well, one was currently a maid, had left. So... embarrassing... But now there was another matter in Fanilly's mind. There was time before breakfast for something she certainly did not want to neglect.

The Knight-Captain of the Iron Roses proceeded downstairs, further. The destination she had in mind was on the ground floor... it was a cool, gentle place. A place of peace.

Her embarrassment faded, and her nerves soothed. The Shrine of Mayon, and its neighboring Shrine of Reon, were an important part of Candaeln. After all, the Iron Rose Knights had once been a holy order, and that blood still flowed in their veins. As she strode into the room, the familiar sight of the flowing water around beds of roses, the windows letting in the morning light(or nighttime moonlight, depending on when one visited the Shrine)... it was a peaceful place.

Of course, this time, she was not alone here.

"Ah, Sir Tyaethe," she said, pausing for a moment. Tyaethe, after all, seemed to dislike being referred to with the newer 'Dame', in spite of being female. "Please excuse me."

Taking a deep breath, Fanilly picked one of the roses. From childhood, the blonde girl had been raised to pray at least once a day, to either goddess, and so, gently placing the rose between her palms and clasping her hands together as she knelt before the central pool of water, shutting her eyes. Above it was a small statue of Mayon herself, clad in flowing robes, arms spread wide and a smile on her face.

"Oh Mayon, Lady of the Moon," she began, "Please, continue to lend us your hand. Your generosity has guided us, allowed us to protect those in need. Your kindness has saved us, kept us from death. Your gentle, cool hand has brought us victory, and protected my knights from suffering. Please continue to lend us your guidance."

It was a basic prayer, asking for continued assistance. But this was because there were some words Fanilly was hesitant to speak aloud. Fanilly's doubts preyed upon her mind. And so, she asked for the kindness of Mayon to sooth them. She would likely visit Reon's Shrine, later, in order to ask for guidance in leading and battle... Fanilly could not help it. She feared the words of others were true, that she was not fit to lead... but she had to try. She had to try and prove herself. And so she asked the Goddesses for guidance, an unspoken prayer each day she visited the Shrine.

Fanilly opened her eyes, and rose to her feet, and gently cast the rose into the cool water. It was a sacrifice to Mayon, an offering to the moon goddess, of her favorite flower. A lily would later be burned, when Fanilly prayed to Reon.

---

Nero's entry into the kitchen would be greeted with, well... the kitchen staff was busy with preparation of breakfast. There was bacon, sizzling on a skillet to bring it to perfect crispy-chewiness, eggs being poached, and various foods being prepared. Indeed, it seemed that there was a lovely Eggs Chauntressy in the works. A delicious breakfast meal(suitable for brunch as well), Eggs Chauntressy was a dish of a poached egg resting on a Velt Muffin, with a coat of hollandaise sauce, and bacon. Some versions even featured smoked salmon...

Indeed, Candaeln's kitchen was rumored to be second only to the royal kitchen itself in the deliciousness of its dishes. The Kitchen staff was largely too busy to pay much attention to Nero right now, though they did allow her room to make her own dish.

However, the was someone not intended to be there...

Aralee placed her hands on her hips, beaming at the temporary maid. The pigtailed maid practically bounced as she approached her.

"Fufufu~ Now I'm not the most junior maid!" she declared triumphantly, pointing at Nero. "Which means it's time for 'Aralee Claervand's Hands-On Measurement Technique'! I have to see if that outfit really fits you properly, after all!"

Nero sighed, as she looked at the twintailed maid with the determined expression. Shrugging her shoulders, she advanced towards Aralee, a bored expression in her blue eyes as she closed into what could be interpreted as personal space. "Well then, my senior." Nero asserted, her stance secure as she stood tall. "I only have one day as maid, so this will have to do." She added as her trained hands darted out to meet Aralee's own, and with a firm stance, she drew the other maid's hands towards the front of her apron.

"As you can see, it does fit." Nero replied. I've had to tolerate that twat of Rinaldo for years, not to mention Soulscale is hundreds of times worse. I don't have time for these childish games. She added mentally. "I was trying to bake some elven bread, so I'd appreciate some kind of help, as it is a difficult recipe." She added.

Ian stirred only slightly when he felt a hand running over his sleeping form, his tail and ears flicking slightly to shoo away whoever is was, it was never enough to completely wake him up, at least until he felt the weight of someone straddling him and heard a voice asking him why he was in this particular bed. Though even the he was only half away, rolling over just a bit a person he had yet to completely recognized before sleepily answering "s'comfortable" and after he said that he started slipping back into unconsciousness, only now facing up at Gillain with his hands somehow finding their way to the man's hips and he was nuzzling his head up into the hand on his ear.

@ghastlyInc

Gillian sighs as the hundi refuses to awaken. “Between him and the maid-knight...” He grumbles, as he gently scratches the offenders ears. “By Mayon's love I'll probably have a breakdown before dusk.” He shifts his weight a little, suddenly surprised by a pair of hands now on his waist, now more or less seated on the bed invading hundi's lap.

He clears his throat, face becoming a little more flushed. There was more reason than just his inhuman arm that motivated Gillian's purchase of a private bath after all. “Yes yes...” He choos, scratching the base of the hundi's ear. It was a strangely therapeutic act, all things considered. “I know its comfortable. Its why I sleep on it. So I suppose the better question is why are you in my room and WHY ARE YOU IN MY BED?!” He says, going from a soft speaking voice to a medium yell as he spoke.
@Zetsuko

Ian nuzzled his head further into the hand, a look of bliss beginning to cross his visage as the light grip turned to scratching. But then the voice that asked why he was there got louder, startling him, his eyes shot open and his ears stood up followed shortly by him jumping up. Ian was, of course, strong for his size, that could be seen is his weapons of choice, so the weight of Gillian did nothing to stop him as he jumped and sent them both tumbling. They landed on the floor with Ian on top and very close, Ian's chin resting on Gillian's chest as he stared wide-eyed at him. It took Ian a few awkward moments to realize Gillian had asked a question "I...was looking for that copy of Fireheart...you said you had one around..." He didn't move even after he answered.

@ghastlyInc

Gill grunts at the sudden explosion beneath him, his eyes shutting tight as he's thrown to the floor by the canine member of the order. He grumbles as he opens his eyes, nose currently pressed into the chest of his intrusive canine assailant as he explained his presence. “You know...” He says, voice muffled by the hundi's chest. He continues in a teasing tone, “Most people would have tried asking to borrow the book instead of seducing. Think of the scandal when the maids discover this.” He couldn't help but think Nero, in what little time he's known her, might be having a bad influence on him....and that she'd probably rib him to Reon's palace and back if she saw this.

He attempts to sit up a bit, though is still somewhat constrained from doing so with the hundi resting on him. “Anyway, 's under the bed big guy, in a small lock box. Red cover, cant miss it.”
@Zetsuko

Tiral returned a knowing smile towards Marianne as the maids got their comeuppance, but that smile soon turned to a frown as his fellow knight explained that she couldn't actually fire lightning at will.
...
What the heck? Weren't there a few steps being skipped there? Like, glaringly obvious steps?!

"So... You're telling me that you can fire a giant spear of lightning, the power of which can rival the power of a battering ram, but not scale it down? Right, I could definitely see that as a problem," the mage said, nodding his head in understanding as he walked over to the circle and pulled his blade out of it. "In that case, this testing can definitely wait. Can't test what you can't test, right?"

Picking the piece of paper off the ground, Tiral walked back over to Marianne and the wolf, thinking to himself about the situation at hand. If he recalled correctly, there was a guest of sorts milling about the halls recently that might be able to help...

Since he had absolutely zero experience with electricity manipulation, asking them might be a good idea. It was either her or Bethany, and given the latter's responsibility and crippling social anxiety, there was probably only one easy choice to make.

"...Well, if you insist, I shall remain for lunch. Maybe we can go seek out someone to help remedy that problem afterwards."

Judging by appearances a nights sleep and time away from any of the constantly multiplying number of maids did little to improve the knights mood. His was a ground floor room, of course. Not actually traveling or expecting to see combat today Indrau wore his 'blues', a long leather coat of identical cut to his usual one with a blue base and white accents with pearl buttons overlaid with silver lions. His sword and armor, while the same ones as the day before, were cleaned and polished. The attire was absent of any trace of gold. It was very likely that he had been awake until the early morning getting ready.

Sword in hand as the weight on his belt tended to add to the pain of his injury, Indrau walked out into the main hall. Thankfully for the sake of his sanity, the knight was just late enough to miss the introduction of the newest of the orders growing cadre of servants.

He headed straight out through the main door and headed towards the practice yard where it might be easier to focus. He paused at the sight of those already present, holding his distance so as to not intrude upon their conversation although it appeared that it was nearing to an end.