The Turning Point

Lessons had begun in earnest since Maruscha came.

One afternoon found Aya in the practice room with a pile of books on her head. Her hands were folded demurely at the front, her back straight and chin up. “Again,” said Maruscha. That was the tenth time. She sighed to herself, immediately drawing a look of reproach.

“A lady does not sigh.”

Aya stiffened. “Yes, Lady Maruscha.”

“And a lady does not drag her feet.”

She glanced down. Her feet were, indeed, dragging. The heels were too big, but she'd already asked for a replacement, and the maids still failed to acquire the right size. She simply corrected it.

“Walk,” Maruscha instructed, and Aya carefully stepped forward.

As she lowered herself into a curtsy, the books wobbled. She swayed side to side in a frantic attempt to balance them. Once the books settled, she let out a breath of relief.

“In House Sorovia, we never show even the smallest mistake. People are always watching, and one careless gesture may be remembered long after every careful one has been forgotten,” Maruscha scolded. 

The head maid was unexpectedly strict during lessons. She strove not for success, but for perfection. Born into a noble family with an illustrious heritage, that's how she became the epitome of elegance and grace. Behind the noblewoman’s seemingly effortless poise was a lifetime of discipline.

Aya wondered if she could ever be like that.

“A-A bug!” someone suddenly shouted.

There was a tiny insect crawling on the floor. The room erupted, and for the first time, Aya saw Maruscha's composure crack. She looked horrified.

“W-Where did that come from?” 

The others settled down but still kept their distance. Looking closer, Aya recognized it to be a caterpillar. It continued its stroll despite the disturbance. Maruscha pointed at one of the maids.

“You. Remove it.”

“...Y-Yes, my lady.”

“Wait!” As the woman was about to reach for it, Aya moved to stop her, the books on her head toppling over.

Maruscha shot her a stern look. “What are you doing?”

“It might be dangerous.” Everyone watched appalled as she took one of the books and crouched down before it. “We shouldn't touch it with our bare hands. I read that some species are venomous.”

“Young Miss-!”

Using the book, Aya scooped up the animal and carried it towards the balcony, where she released it. “There.”

“What were you thinking?” Maruscha's expression turned cold.

“Oh, uh… Bright colors on animals can be warning signals, and toxic species use them to show predators they're dangerous. That one was-”

“This is no time for trivia. I ordered the maid, not you.”

“But she could've gotten hurt…”

“That was for her to handle.”

Aya lowered her head. “I was just trying to help.”

“And in doing so, you neglected your own duty.” Maruscha glared down at the books scattered on the floor. “Your etiquette lesson is not finished. You let go of the books, left your position, and carried out a task assigned to a servant. Now, tell me. Would you stop a knight and confront a beast simply because you knew something about it that others didn't? Surely not.”

‘Uh, actually, I did that before...’ She recalled mistaking a wild beast as the goddess's ambassador.

Of course, she didn't say that out loud. The head maid looked genuinely upset. Even the other maids appeared completely tense. From the back of the room, the head maid assistant, whom she'd met only recently, observed with an ambiguous expression.

With that strained atmosphere, the etiquette lesson continued into the afternoon.

---

“...Then, the Caterpillar King, banished from his homeland, set sail on an epic voyage in search of a world that would welcome him in all his hairy, fuzzy glory!”

A fat, green caterpillar wriggled across the table. Magic glimmered and whirled around the library as Aya signed her name in the air. More caterpillars popped up, forming a colony.

She beamed, elated. “I did it! No more dizziness! No more headaches!”

She had been learning magecraft outside of etiquette and academics. So far, it's smooth-sailing. Her tutors would teach her during the day while she would practice at night. Having done all that self-study in the past, she caught on quickly, and in mere weeks, she could finally wield magic properly. It’s a shame the same couldn’t be said for lessons involving conduct and manners.

At any rate, using the Magic Language was much trickier than she thought. Illusions were difficult to create the right way. Manipulating them was another matter entirely. She was taught that a good illusion deceived the eyes, a great illusion deceived the mind, and a perfect illusion deceived reality itself.

Aya waved her fingers, and more caterpillars appeared until her table became a nest. “Ehehe… I'm getting good at this.”

“You certainly are. I may be able to teach you sooner than planned.” Shade, still a cat, leaped onto the chair beside her.

Apparently, the Divine Vessels’ familiars were not just magical companions like those of mages. Having lived far longer than their masters, they served primarily as mentors who imparted ancient wisdom. They possessed millenia-old knowledge that ordinary humans could not freely obtain. Conceptually, they're living libraries. Because they were ambassadors of the gods, they were prideful, and they obeyed only those appointed to them.

“We can start whenever you want, you know.”

“I advise against that. You still haven’t fully covered the basics about magic.”

Aya slumped. “Right… It might also be better if I learn other useful spells. That way, I can protect myself better next time something happens.”

“Indeed. You did well with your first darkness spell. However, you’d consumed more mana than necessary, and you couldn’t hold it for long.”

“The Void that Veils, you mean? I couldn’t believe it’s a real spell. I’ve got the Evil Lord of Albania to thank for that~”

Shade nodded. “The author must be a devotee of the Goddess of Darkness. Does your King of Caterpillar here come from a book, too?”

Said caterpillar crawled down the side of the table. “No, I just came up with it after-”

“Young Miss Aya!”

From the door, Maruscha stood frozen. Behind her were the other maids. Silence ruled the library, long and heavy. For a moment, Aya dreaded another commotion.

“What is the meaning of this?” The head maid eyed the caterpillars as if they were an atrocity.

“T-They’re not real! I'm practicing illusion magic!”

“...An illusion?”

Everyone stirred in surprise and disbelief.

They appeared to be doubting her. On one hand, that meant she had managed to conjure a vision of uncanny realism. Her skill was still intact and solid despite the new challenges, it seemed. On the other hand, that also showed their utter lack of trust in her. Even though she made efforts to earn their favor, always helping with chores and submitting to their will, they remained apathetic and detached from her.

The only person they ever listened to was the head maid, and because she still looked infuriated, they maintained a skeptic stance.

Left with no choice, Aya signed again. The caterpillars began to glow a delicate, translucent light that coalesced into a vibrant horde of butterflies. At the resplendent sight, Maruscha faltered. A wave of shock rolled through the room.

“What are you-?!”

Wings fluttered in luminous colors, spiraling upward between bookshelves, chandeliers, and shafts of moonlight. Maruscha was speechless, her lips slightly parted. One butterfly landed on her shoulder. She stared at it, then at Aya, and then at the swarm filling the library. A familiar softness touched her face. For a heartbeat, it lit up with ecstasy.

“This is...beautiful, darling.”

Aya blushed. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Could you show me more?”

“Pardon me, Your Highness. You are not supposed to use magic in this manner,” the head maid assistant spoke up suddenly, her firm green eyes fixed on her, ignoring the butterflies brushing against her neatly tied brown hair. “You should be practicing under your tutor’s supervision.”

She was presumably pertaining to the king’s missives sent after a complete assessment of her condition. As it happened, Aya was banned from using the invisibility spell not just because she used it to flee, but also because it’s an advanced technique that she’s currently unable to do without relying on the Magic Scratch. Her health would be at risk again if she tried it and other similarly complex magecraft.

“It’s alright, Miss Romina. Do not reprimand her,” Maruscha replied in Aya’s stead. “I say we praise her instead! Isn’t she incredible?”

“Yes, she is, but that doesn’t change the fact that she has a record of pushing herself to the limit.”

“Only by doing so can we see if we’re capable of exceeding it. Personally, I find great potential in her.”

“Miss Maruscha.” At the mention of her name without the usual honorific, the woman’s gaze hardened. “Our duty is to attend to Her Highness as servants, not to dictate her education. Respectfully, she’s shown how great her potential is even before she stepped into this palace. The ones who have a good grasp of her abilities and limitations are her tutor and His Majesty, and per their counsel, she can’t use magic without guidance.”

“...Is that so?”

Aya remained still, unsure what to do in this situation.

These past several weeks were filled with new knowledge and experiences, but as the two head maids stared each other down in what seemed to be a silent battle for dominance, it felt as though those days of normalcy were about to take an unexpected turn.