The fight had relaxed Cal quite a bit. Familiar territory tended to do that, mostly familiar that is. Usually, it ended with a corpse and a new souvenir rather than a crying girl. Boy was that awkward, almost as much as when he realized he should have left the briefcase in the office. He stood there like an idiot with it before the girl started yelling about him not having a weapon. He'd even been about to go drop it off with the Lord when she straight-up attacked him.

Any illusions he had of the girl being in the know withered away during the fight. He'd seen enough dying men to know what true desperation looked like. She looked at him as if he was the villain. He was the good guy! Most of the time. Like 70% of the time. Thinking about it, that number was probably a lot lower from the Empire's point of view.

Either way, he'd ended up feeling so bad that he didn't even fight back. Leaving the girl to just tucker herself out. He wanted to be annoyed at someone, but he couldn't decide who. The situation was a bit muddy, making it difficult to point at someone and say it was all that guy's fault.

"I hope little Alice did not make too bad an impression on you" Claire, his new 'stepmother', sipped on a glass of wine opposite to him. "She can be quite impertinent. However, believe me when I say she has a good heart"

Funny, she'd tried to run his through.

They were alone, seated at a white-clothed table, in a vast dining room. The table had already been set and the servants dismissed.

He took a sip of his glass and held back a gag. He'd never liked the taste of wine. It did serve its purpose and bought him the moment needed to organize his next words.

"Her response was understandable" He sliced a part of the beef on his plate, getting ready to use it as an excuse the next time he needed to think.

"I'm glad you see it that way, it won't be good for siblings to quarrel over such small matters" she responded demurely. Cutting her own meal in a way that made him suddenly self-conscious about how he had done it.

"I must say, I'm rather impressed one as young as you would be given the opportunity to choose a task of this importance." He'd been wondering about that, whether she knew about his true identity.

He'd been told the Lord knew all the pertinent information. What was considered pertinent? That he didn't know. Allegedly, those were the exact words communicated by the Empire who had the Lord facilitate this. Cal wondered if the Empire's war hawks were also meddling with things. He had his plate full dealing with the ones at home, he wasn't ready to add those of another country to the list.

Initially, Cal sorta assumed the Lord would tell whatever he did know to his strangely small family.

An assumption that had already fallen apart.

Which left him tip-toeing around the subject.

"My opinion was not consulted" That sounded good, very spook-like. Actually, wouldn't a spook just be stonewalling all this? Ugh, why was he even bothering with all the op sec stuff? He'd never before.

He became acutely aware of the shape of a star in his pocket. Oh right, he had caught a nasty case of responsibility. With any luck, his immune system would soon fight it off.

"Oh, that's rather alarming." She briefly held a palm to her face, hiding her slightly frightened expression. "I'd thought the situation rather serious"

Shit. He had to reassure her somehow. It'd be bad if word got back to the royal family that the Federation had sent someone unqualified.

Despite the fact that, they totally did.

"The situation is well in hand" He had very little clue what the situation was. "I've dealt with similar cases" A half-truth, he knew it had something to do with demons and he was one of the most experienced around when it came to killing those.

In a sense, Cal supposed that meant they did send an expert.

He bit into his meal. It wasn't bad but he preferred the mess halls. The food there was top-notch, even if the company was lousy. Bloated bureaucracy or not, the Federation knew an army marched on its stomach.

"I see, it heartens me to hear that. Do let me know if there's anything we can do to make your stay here enjoyable, I know it must be strange being so far from home."

It was strange. Very strange. He scarcely knew anything about other countries outside of the Federation. He'd been expecting to be given a primer before arriving here and while he did get one, he couldn't help but think it was made for someone already with the required background knowledge.

He took another sip of wine and forced it down. He thought of her recent statement, It'd be rude to ask for another type of beverage, wouldn't it? He definitely couldn't ask for his favorite flavor of juice, setting aside the fact it might not exist in this country, what spook drank juice?

"I'll notify you should anything come to mind" The more he spoke the more he realized he sounded like Albert when they weren't fooling around. Not the worst person to imitate.

"Pardon me for my rudeness. There are certain aspects of this situation that are rather new to you aren't they" She said with a small smile, her gaze directed at his hands.

He'd been using the wrong utensils, hadn't he? He'd tried to copy the ones she'd used. Yet he had still fallen short. All his previous efforts seemed cheapened by the revelation.

She gave a low giggle and Cal wondered if anything had shown on his face.

"Now I wouldn't worry too much, someone with the background given to you would be expected to be a little rough around the edges. Still, it would be poor form on our family if you were given no instruction." She partially rose from her seat and stretched over the table. Removing the fork he'd been using and slipping a new one into his hand. She took her own and demonstrated the proper hold on it. "Normally such a task would fall to the servants. In this case, I think we both see the value of limiting your contact with them." He couldn't help but agree, even if her actions of treating him as a child to be taught bothered him.

No one would dare grab his fork in the Federation. Probably fearing he'd try stabbing someone.

The figure of a particular, near perpetually smiling individual flashed in his mind. Alright, fine. It happened once but that guy had it coming and he avoided aiming for anything vital.

He set his utensils down and used the napkin in his lap to dab his mouth. "I would be happy to receive your tutelage. Before we were interrupted, your husband spoke of ground rules."

He thought back to Mask, and how he acted when trying to unnerve people.

"I'd like to propose one, don't ever do that again."

Hopefully, he got it close enough.

—

It looked as if he'd not be winning the equivalent of this world's Emmy anytime soon as his performance did little to dampen the enthusiasm Claire took with his studies. And he used the words studies very liberally. There were a thousand little rules and he was convinced they'd been made up just so you had a reason to complain about anyone you wanted to. Provided your social station was sufficiently high that is. She'd told him the rules about that sorta thing at the Academy would be looser but wouldn't define what that actually meant.

Something about reading the room. Not exactly one of his talents.

On the bright side, he'd not have to deal with his 'Lord Father' much at all. The man seemed content to avoid his path and that was fine by Cal. He still wasn't sure what to think of the Lord using his daughter of all things to test him or if that was even his intention.

On the not-so-bright side, his fake stepmother seemed set on having said daughter and him get along before they both made the trip to the Academy when the new year started. He wasn't particularly eager about it and the feeling was decidedly mutual.

Which led to both of them silently drinking tea together on the garden terrace for an hour every day. At least the gardens were nice, they were in front of the manor and he'd missed them on his way in on account of all the nerves.

The garden had a surprising variety of flora, facilitated by Claire's penchant for growth magic. He couldn't recall the name of it now, but the house she was born to was supposed to be well known for that type of mixed magic. From the little he knew about how magic worked in lineage, the mother was the more important aspect when it came to determining a child's affinity. Which meant it peculiar that someone with high earth and water affinity would marry into a family, allegedly, famous for its fire affinity.

He knew even the Federation encouraged unions between those of affinities that were either similar or produced well-known mixed magic. They would never go so far as forcing it, but Mask had shown him a breakdown of the matches for the branch's in-house dating app and the results showed they were more than happy to nudge things in a certain direction. Come to think of it, he doubted he was allowed to see that. Mask tended to share his disregard for confidentiality.

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Cal calmly enjoyed his drink while admiring the work of a fellow growth mage. Calling himself that was more than a little disingenuous. Not only did he possess neither of the affinities required to be, what many would consider, a true one, but his actual skill with the magic was limited. There was still something to be said about getting things to grow where he did.

The daily ritual seemed ready to be broken as Alice set the teacup down just a bit more forcefully than considered polite. Dead gods-. He stopped himself, correcting the terminology in his head.

Ancestors he hated how he knew that now.

Her lips pursed and he was hoping she'd just had indigestion or something.

"Father has cemented my position of heir." She tapped her finger on the table and studied him. "You understand this, correct?"

If only he could tell her he'd be out of her hair in a year tops. Instead, he just nodded at her, praying that would be the end of it.

The tapping stopped and her gaze sharpened "I need to hear you say it"

He used his finger to stir his tea "I've no interest in taking your position"

She grimaced at his actions but held her tongue.

"Good" She flipped back her hair, looking out into the garden "It's good you understand your position" she said in a haughty manner

Did she forget she'd bawled her eyes out in front of him two weeks ago? Maybe he should have hit her.

"I do not understand what has caused mother to be so taken with you." The words sounded painful to deliver. "Given her acceptance, I shall try to be more tolerant of your presence."

"Oh, how magnanimous of you" he drolled.

He'd still keep the spook act around dear old Pa and Ma but after acting like it for weeks the mask was itching something fierce. Besides, from what she knew he was just some random bastard. It was better to act closer to his natural self.

"Yes, it." She stopped mid-sentence, turning back to him. Her face had a look of askance "Are you mocking me?"

He thought that be obvious.

He took a gasp "I would never dare"

"Cretin!" She stomped her foot and the ends of her hair began to flicker.

Is this what people thought of him? Ready to ignite at the slightest provocation.

"What? You going to ask me to stand still this time?" He smirked mischievously. Not the most mature of responses. Sue him, he needed some entertainment after weeks of learning the proper gifting conventions for every sort of celebration.

The tea started to bubble.

The maids in the background took several steps back, with some breaking off.

He leaned in, angling his chin up. Tempting her to take the first hit. Or attempt at one. He could stand here all day and she'd never get past his shell.

She stood and rounded the small table to face him directly. He could see her fist clenched at her side which moved unsteadily, indecisive in their action.

The little stalemate dragged on, neither side willing to back down.

"Children!" The mother of the house walked towards the duo with brisk steps. "That is my garden, not the training grounds!"

Alice startled and stood ramrod. "Mother. I, he-"

Claire cut her off before she could finish pointing "He started it. Yes? I do remember saying much the same when I was half your height"

He kept the laughter at bay as Alice flustered like she'd just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"And you" she addressed him, hands on her hips "Have I not asked you to get along with your sister?"

Damn, getting caught egging someone on is very not spook-like. In his defense, Claire was scheduled to be in her study at this time. He glanced at the maids still standing at the side.

Several chose to divert their attention elsewhere. It hadn't taken long for him to largely ignore them, it was the same situation in the Federation where the rank and file tended to blend into the scenery. Another habit he'd have to kick, anything else would be reckless.

Having no good response, he took a sip of tea and almost dropped the thing as the liquid scalded his mouth. He swallowed it anyway, augmenting his innards to shield himself from further damage and pain. It was quite a delicate art, a single misstep and he'd face a quick death after rupturing something important. It was also the type of technique that benefited immensely from trial and error. It's just, most people came out crippled or worse after the error part.

With that distraction gone, he saw Claire had moved closer to him with a strange look in her eye and one of her hands slightly outstretched. She'd stopped short. So she'd noticed but hesitated. Maybe his talk did have an effect.

Good.

Alice looked unaware of what had just transpired, still expecting him to receive the same verbal scolding she'd gotten.

Claire held his eye for a moment before signaling and sat at the table after one of the maids produced an additional chair.

"Daughter, please re-seat yourself." Alice obeyed her expression spoke of indignation. "Tell me, have I failed so thoroughly that my two children cannot have a single cup of tea in harmony?"

Alice could be visibly seen to be biting back a response. It didn't take much of an imagination to figure out what she wanted to say.

Cal didn't comment on the blatant manipulation, his tongue still healing.

"I'd hoped you two would be able to settle things yourselves, with the Academy year swiftly approaching, I fear we do not have time to dally any longer. Presenting a divided house would invite all sorts of troubles" He wasn't sure what Alice thought of her mother's phrasing, but to him the implication was clear. Their disunity would somehow impede his work. Frankly, he didn't share the same view. Avoiding each other in the Academy just meant one less person aware of his movements.

"So, shall we all get to know each other just a little bit better?" she had that same smile Cal had rapidly come to associate trouble with "Oh" She gave a small clap as if having some revelation "I know, let us play a little game. I mentioned fear earlier, why don't the pair of you share one of yours?"

Zero chance this wasn't premeditated. Easy enough lie to come up with so he wasn't too worried.

Claire looked at both of them expectantly. He waited in silence as he enjoyed the hints of lavender carried to him by the breeze. His tongue had already healed, but he didn't feel like going first. Closing his eyes he tried to focus on the other scents as well. Unsurprisingly, ash was the strongest. There were others intermingled in there but he couldn't place them.

"Failure" Alice said with a sort of weight he'd not expected. "I fear I will fail to live up to the name Ardere"

He was not the only one caught off guard.

"Oh sweety" Claire's voice broke slightly in a rare loss of composure "my little sun. Come here. You know your father and I will always love you" Claire tenderly whispered to her daughter, now holding her in a tight embrace.

This felt wrong.

He didn't belong here. This was a personal moment meant for a family. Not him, he was a lie. A conjured identity to be discarded once it ran its use. He got up, not wanting to intrude on them any more than he already had, and quietly backed away.

"Wait" evidently, not as quietly as he should have. "Running? Ardere's are no cowards. I have done my part, won't you do yours?" Alice addressed him, eyes reddened more than usual.

He didn't know what to say, a lie was too disrespectful for one who had just laid out their heart. He looked to the mother, hoping she'd intervene on his behalf and tell Alice to drop it. However, her focus remained on Alice, silently running her hands through the red mane.

What did he fear? It wasn't much of a question. He knew what he feared.

He didn't fear the cold table,

He didn't fear the humming of machines designed with him in mind.

He didn't fear the blurred faces of the men and women standing over him, instruments in hand.

As paradoxical as it sounded, he'd never feared them. It was what they reminded him of. The feelings of helplessness, the crying out for no one to hear him.

He couldn't stand it.

He didn't stand it.

"Trapped." She bore her soul, so he'd return the gesture. "Being trapped."

He left, back to his room. Before he could witness any reaction.