Lyzack nodded, impressed with the girl’s drive. He handed her a piece of paper.
“What is this?” Cecilia asked.
“Your resume, to be submitted to His Lordship. You’ll include details like your name, age, childhood residence, and the like.”
“I understand.” She took the pen from the viscount’s outstretched hand. It must have been a time-sensitive matter, she supposed.
While Cecilia worked, Lyzack invited Lect to a neighboring room. “Seems she’s come around after all. What did you say to her?”
“Why do you ask me questions you know the answer to, Brother? It wasn’t my doing.”
“I thought as much. She’s spirited. Driven. But she seemed hesitant at best last night. I can’t figure out what caused such a drastic shift in attitude.”
Lect furrowed his brow. “You’ve heard of the monster incident?”
“A dozen times now. You can’t strike up a conversation without hearing about it again. Why?”
“It was our carriage that was attacked.”
“What?! Good lord, Lectias, are you all right? Is Madam Cecilia well? She’s putting on an awfully brave front.”
“There were no injuries, for a mercy, but she’s frustrated at her powerlessness. She could only wait and keep the battlefield lit for us.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, seeing as this is more your field than mine, but it’s my understanding that battles generally require vision. After what she showed me, I struggle to believe she was anything less than indispensable.”
“Naturally, but she wishes she could have done more. It’s as simple as that.”
“I see. Yes, I see.” Lyzack considered Cecilia’s passion in this new light, saddened to see her resolve spring out of trauma. “I very much would have preferred her to make this choice under less grim circumstances.”
“She wouldn’t have budged for anything less.”
Lyzack saw the tired smile on his brother’s face, and he knew. It was a practiced expression. “I hear you instructed a class for a time. Any plans to return for the new semester? It’s going to get difficult for you and your paramour to meet when she moves into the dorms. Shall I beseech His Lordship on your behalf, dear brother?”
Lect grumbled. It was a long grumble. “I’ll consider it.”
The viscount allowed him his vacillation. They had time.
When they returned to the parlor, they found Cecilia staring a hole through her resume.
“Something I can help with?” Lyzack offered.
“Oh, my lord. It, um, concerns my hometown. I…don’t actually know where I was born.”
“You don’t know?” Lyzack looked at what she’d written. She’d put down the Avarenton March, but left the town blank.
“I never really paid it much mind, growing up. It never actually occurred to me until this very moment.”
“I…I suppose that can happen.”
Cecilia sighed. Lyzack could not reproach the girl. Small, isolated villages often referred to their communities simply as “home,” he had heard, and the Avarenton March was vast. Perhaps Cecilia hailed from one such village. It would certainly explain her ignorance regarding her own magic.
Or maybe she was lying, which she absolutely was. Melody had already slipped up giving her real last name. If she then gave her actual hometown, Cecilia wouldn’t serve as much of a disguise anymore.
“You can simply leave it as is,” the viscount said. “The march will suffice.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
Lyzack gave the resume one final review to scan for errors. “We’ll submit this to His Lordship, then likely schedule the interview for a later date. I’ll have to get in contact with you then. Where might I direct my correspondence?”
“My estate will do,” Lect said.
“Am I to take that to mean you’re living together?”
“D-don’t be ridiculous! It’s only for the sake of ease!”
Lyzack did ever so much enjoy toying with his gutless brother.
After seeing his guests off, he contacted Count Leginbarth at once. His Lordship was still trapped in the palace dealing with the aftermath of the monster infiltration. It would likely be a few days before he could grant an audience.
But to Lyzack’s surprise, this was not the case. The viscount gathered his things and rushed to the palace, as per his lord’s instructions.
That evening, when Count Cloud Leginbarth found a moment to spare, Lyzack Froude bowed before his lord. “Thank you for seeing me, Your Lordship.”
“At ease, friend. Now, I’m told this concerns Madam Cecilia?”
Cloud was surprised at himself. What was he doing? He didn’t have time for this immediately following an incursion of monsters in the Upper District. The Royal Chancery lacked the capacity for something so superfluous now of all times, but the moment Cecilia’s name came up, Cloud had to know.
What am I thinking? And after how little thought I afforded Celedia when she was forced to leave the ball early. Cloud’s self-loathing fed into itself.
Regardless, he entertained Lyzack’s petition.
“She wants to attend the academy?”
“Yes, my lord. And if I may, she’s an incredibly gifted mage. I believe she’s more than qualified to undergo the examination process.”
“Hmm.”
“Additionally, I believe the education would lend itself well to an eventual engagement with Lect, should—”
“Should what?” the count growled.
Lyzack jumped. “M-my lord?”
“Er, n-nothing. Ahem. Apologies.”
What in the world am I doing?!
The words “engagement with Lect” had ignited something visceral in Cloud. A strange rage flared up out of his control. Why did he care so much for this girl? She was not his daughter. She was nothing to him.
“For those reasons, I, um, put forward Madam Cecilia as a candidate for enrollment,” Lyzack continued. “I might also advise a meeting, so that you may ascertain her qualifications for yourself, Your Lordship.” He handed Cloud her resume. “You’ll find them detailed here.”
“Ah, yes, I never did get her full name. Cecilia Mc…” The count read it again. “McMarden?”
“My lord?”
Cloud sat frozen, his eyes fixed on those eight letters. McMarden. Her name is McMarden. The same as Selena’s. Is she related? Impossible. I’ve searched her entire family history forward and backward, and never found a “Cecilia” among the names. It must be a coincidence. Nothing more. Just a…
The image of her golden hair and red eyes flashed through his mind. He recalled her smile and the way it elicited both sadness and fondness in him. Why?
Cecilia McMarden, who are you?
Melody doffed her disguise and returned to her true, maidly self. Lect and Paula had departed for their estate. All returned to normal.
“Feels good to be home.” She giggled at her uniformed reflection before leaving her room.
Luciana was waiting for her. “Will it work out?”
“My lady, what are you doing all the way over here at the servants’ quarters? I’m afraid it’s hard to say. It will take some time to work through the whole process.”
“Phooey. Oh well. I’m sure there’s nothing they can throw at you that you can’t handle! And then we can go to school together!” She squealed. “I’m so excited!”
“My lady, nobles do not bounce! It’s unbecoming. And remember, I’m going as Cecilia, not Melody. Do keep that in mind.”
“Yep, gotcha!”
Melody shook her head. Her lady was such a handful sometimes. They reached the family room together.
“I’m still not sure about this attending the academy business,” Hughes said.
“I must admit, it’s worrying,” Marianna agreed.
The count and countess regarded their maid with concern.
“Rest assured, Your Lordship, Your Ladyship. Lady Luciana’s safety is guaranteed with me at her side!”
“That’s not what we meant,” they groaned.
“Oh.” Melody cocked her head. What did they mean, then?
“Um, excuse me!” Micah’s hand shot up. “I think it’s great that Miss Melody gets to go to school, but what about her maid work?”
Only Micah, the otome gamer, stood a chance of rivaling Luciana’s glee over the whole affair. Finally, the heroine would do something actually resembling what a protagonist should do. Yet the parts of Micah that understood Melody’s devotion to maid work ached at the idea of her having to abandon her life’s purpose.
“We have considered all of that, Micah,” Melody said. “By day, I’ll be Cecilia the student. By night, I’ll be Melody the maid, always at my lady’s beck and call! Who says I can’t wear two hats?”
Labor laws, as it happened. If this world had them, that is.
“We do,” the family plus Micah said.
“What?! Why?!”
And just like that, it was back to the drawing board.