Valentina adjusted the hem of her servant uniform with a sigh. She adjusted the bonnet on her head to keep her auburn hair under control. Then she brushed off any remaining dust from her black and white servant attire. Her hands brushed down her waist-length skirt, stopping to make sure her apron was properly tied. She made sure her white stockings were in place and then stood with her back straight. She reached towards the double doors and gently knocked thrice upon them.

"Princess Francisca?" she called, slowly pushing the door open and stepping inside, "It's Valentina? It's time to get dressed."

As she stepped into the room, the hinges of the doors completely silent as they opened. Her head moved from left to right until she saw the empty bed. Her lips curl into a frown. She entered the room and swiftly approached the edge of the bed. With practiced movements, she put the sheets back in order while her eyes continued to search for the princess. It was just as she finished folding the top of the sheets over that she found Princess Francisca.

Valentina breathed a sigh of relief but paused when she realized that the princess was standing up. In front of the Princess was a full-length mirror that was just as tall as the purple haired girl. Valentina's eyes widened as she quickly dashed to her, "Princess Francisca! You shouldn't be out of bed! Your illness will start acting up!"

Francisca slowly turned around, her long, purple hair hanging behind her in twin spirals. Her white nightclothes concealed most of her figure from casual observation. But it did little to hide the swell of her D-cup breasts. Though, if Francisca cared about such things, she didn't act like it. In fact, as Valentina approached the Princess, she slowed down to get a better look at her face. Specifically, how she didn't look fatigued in the slightest. Usually, the Princess could only stand for two to five minutes. Then she would need to sit down to regain her strength. Some days, she could stand for as long as an hour, but that seemed to be her limit. If she had actually gotten out of her bed before Valentina arrived, then she must have been standing for much longer than that.

But she didn't look the least bit tired. There was no sweat on her brow, her legs weren't trembling with the effort of standing up, and even her eyes were free of the bags that usually hung beneath them. Instead, the princess' bright green eyes were shining with a happiness that Valentina couldn't recall ever seeing before. She swallowed nervously as she took a step forward, "Princess? Are you alri-"

Without warning, Francisca surged forward and pulled Valentina into a hug. The servant girl, who was not expecting such a thing, was tackled to the ground. There was no time to be shocked by the princess' surprising strength. Nor did she realize how quickly she managed to move. All she could do was hit the ground and gasp as the warmth of the princess' body enveloped hers.

...Wait... warmth?

"Princess Francisca?" Valentina struggled in her lady's arms, "What is...what is going on? What about your ill-"

"Gone."

Valentina paused. Her eyes filled with shock as the word reached her ears. Slowly, her head turned to look at the purple haired girl, who was holding her tightly, like a child with their favorite toy, "Wh-What? What do you...?"

"It's gone," Francisca said, loosening her grip on Valentina. She pushed herself up until she was looking down at the servant girl. Valentina felt something wet land on her cheek. She locked eyes with Francisca, noticing the tears streaming down her cheeks. Her lips curved into a smile that reached her eyes. A choking chuckle escaped her lips, a whirlwind of emotions evident with every word, "My illness. It's gone. "I'm... I'm completely healed."

Words failed Valentina as she gazed at the Princess' radiant smile. Her mouth moved, but no words came out as she struggled to comprehend what her Lady was saying. The idea that her illness was gone... it didn't sound real. Like a dream that the princess has had since the day she was first put into her bed. The illness had been with her for years, after all. While she wasn't aware of the full details, she had heard the rumors among the other servants. The maids and cooks all said that no physician could figure out what was wrong with the princess. That her illness was unique and could not be cured with physical medication or magic. And while they were just rumors, what she had seen in the few months she had been serving the Princess led her to believe them.

But to hear that it was simply...gone. Just like that. It couldn't be that easy.

"M-My Lady," Valentina managed to gasp out while still attempting to wriggle out from under the Princess. She was slowly beginning to realize how inappropriate the two of them looked, and her cheeks turned a light shade of pink in response, "p-please calm down. If-If you wish to tell me more, we can do so after you have dressed."

Francisca blinked down at her servant, her head tilting to the side in confusion. Then her eyes widened, and she looked up, "You're right! I need to get dressed, so I can show Mother and Father!"

"Wh-wha-," but Valentina's words fell on deaf ears. Francisca was already up and moving towards her spacious walk-in closet. As the servant girl got back to her feet, the princess swung the doors open and began removing her night clothes. Panicking, Valentina dashed over to the closet and pushed Francisca inside, "Princess! Not out in the open!"

She closed the white closet doors behind them, concealing the Princess as she changed. A few minutes passed as the two prepared Francisca's outfit for the day. Then, the closet doors burst open, and Francisca ran out of the closet. Her night clothes had been replaced with a bright green and pink dress that stopped just above her ankles. The dress' sleeves ran up her arms, puffing up into pink shoulder coverings that moved just as easily as she did. Her stomach and navel were covered by a bodice that accentuated her cleavage, while her thick, dark magenta skirt flowed with each of her movements. Atop her head, she wore a metal tiara that helped to keep the long bang covering her right eye in place.

"Princess Francisca!" Valentina called out as the princess opened the door to her room. The servant ran after her, saying, "Please wait!" Your parents are not ready to receive you!"

"Valentina, I feel better now than I have in years," Francisca said firmly, clutching her skirts as she strode out into the hallway. The polished marble walls and floor seemed to sparkle as the morning sunlight streamed in through the windows. Flags with the heraldry of the Noscrim and Lescatie families hung from hooks on the ceiling. Multiple servants and guards stopped to stare as the famously ill Princess marched through the halls. Back straight and head held high, she was a stark contrast to every other time they had seen her. It was so surprising, that several people forgot to bow to her as she passed by. The only warning they had that she was coming was the sound of her heels clacking against the tiled floor.

"I understand, but..." Valentina called as she struggled to keep up with the Princess. Despite wearing a longer dress, Francisca moved with grace and speed that surpassed that of the young servant girl. The only reason she was able to keep up was because her longer legs allowed her to cover more ground. Though it did mean that multiple people got a peek up her skirt as she passed, she was entirely focused on keeping track of the suddenly energetic Princess.

"And it's because of that," Francisca continued, her focus preventing her from paying any attention to what Valentina was about to say, "that I am not going to miss this opportunity!" I'm going to see my mother and father so I can show them that my illness is gone. And none are to stop me. Understood?"

Valentina prepared a counterargument, but it caught in her throat. She paused for a moment, her footsteps quieting down as the Princess' order reached her ears. Francisca took notice and stopped to look at the servant girl. She also stopped, watching the girl with a confused expression on her face, "Valentina?"

Valentina felt her worries fade away. Her body relaxed, and her expression returned to a normal disposition. She stood up straight, put her hands together, and bowed deeply to Francisca, "By your order, Princess Francisca Mistel Lescatie. Would you at least allow me to accompany you?"

"Y-Yes. Thank you, Valentina," Francisca was a bit surprised by the woman's sudden change of mind. To have been so adamant that she wait before, only to suddenly switch to being fine with it and wishing to accompany her? It seemed too convenient. She continued to stare at Valentina, observing the servant girl's neutral expression as she approached. She only started walking again when the two were side by side. They walked down different corridors, catching the attention of servants and guards who watched them as they passed by. A few guards even left their posts to escort the two of them. They were soon surrounded by four guards in a square formation. Most didn't say anything, but they kept turning to look at Francisca. As if the princess would disappear the moment they looked away.

Eventually, the two arrived at a hallway with a red satin carpet. The carpet led towards the large, golden double doors of the throne room. The moment they came into sight, Francisca picked up her skirts and ran towards the doors. The two Royal Knights guarding the door stepped forward to block her passage, but soon realized who was approaching them. Shocked to see her up and about, they couldn't stop her from pushing open the large doors. The two gilded doors groaned under her astonishing strength as they opened. Once the doors were opened wide enough to allow her passage, she hurried inside and called out, "Mother! Father!"

Sitting on their respective thrones at the end of the room, the two rulers of Lescatie slowly turned their heads to see who had called them. At first, neither of them reacted to the sight of their daughter marching towards them along the red carpet. They simply stared at her with blank expressions on their faces. But once she passed the halfway point, both husband and wife rose from their seats. Their expressions changed to shock as both beheld their fourth and youngest daughter running up to them without a care in the world.

Her father, Castor Bistoa Lescatie, stepped forward and held out his arms. Despite his weakened frame, he still managed to speak in a hoarse voice, "Fr-Fr-Francisca? "What... What are..."

"Father!" Francisca closed the remaining distance between her family and herself. She threw her arms around her father's neck, causing him to stumble back, while she pressed her face against his chest. Tears streamed down her face as she spoke, her voice wavering with a blend of joy and relief, "I'm... I'm completely healed! My sickness is gone! I can move again, I don't hurt anymore, I...I...I'm so happy!"

"Francisca...," Castor didn't know what to say at first. So, instead of talking, he did the one thing he could think of in that moment. He hugged his daughter as tightly as he could, pressing his face into her hair. His wife, Francia Reinel Lescatie, slowly made her way to the embracing father and daughter. Without a word, she slowly threw her arms around her daughter, leaning into the hug as her hair, identical to her daughter's, hung low behind her. The only sound in the room was Francisca's quiet sobbing, as the three of them simply basked in the warmth of their family for the first time in years. The Royal Knights, Guards, and Valentina all maintained a respectful distance from the Lescatian family, not wanting to disrupt their joyful reunion.

The three stayed like that for at least five minutes. Far too short a time if you asked Francisca. But her parents' curiosity could only be held at bay for so long. Her father and mother slowly pulled away from their daughter, who rubbed her eyes to clear away the tears. Castor looked over her shoulder at the gathered guards and servant, who all stood at attention the moment his eyes fell upon them. He waved for them to relax before turning back to his daughter. He gently reached up and stroked her cheek, his weariness evident in his eyes and voice, "Dearest daughter. It's wonderful to see you well and happy. I can hardly recall the last time I saw you smile."

Francia nodded in agreement, but her expression became serious, "But, how is this possible? Your illness has been with you since birth. How did you suddenly get healed?

Francisca leaned against her father's hand while shaking her head, "I don't know. It's just... when I woke up, it didn't hurt anymore. And I could get out of bed on my own. And I even ran around the castle today."

Despite the simplicity of what she was describing, everything she said made her smile widen. She placed her hand against her father's, closing her eyes and sighing happily. Castor and Francia looked at each other, their eyes widening in surprise. Francia turned to their daughter and ventured, "Perhaps... could God have finally heard us? Did she restore our daughter's health?"

Francisca opened her eyes and straightened up, shaking her head, "I don't think so. I don't remember hearing her...wait. Father, you're sick."

Castor shook his head in surprise. He looked at his daughter with a kind smile and said, "Francisca, I assure you, I'm fine."

"No, you're not," Francisca stepped forward and grabbed her father's cheeks. She ignored his expression of surprise. Her bright green eyes, identical to his own, searched his face as if she were searching for something significant. After a few seconds, she gasped before releasing him, "You're exhausted!" Way more than you should be for your age. You haven't been getting any sleep, have you?"

"Francisca, what are you talking about?" Francia said, moving to gently take her daughter's hand, "Your father is fine. "I have been with him this entire time."

"Then shouldn't you have noticed?" Francisca accused, but her voice remained gentle as she turned to look at her mother. However, the moment her eyes fell onto her mother's thin frame, they grew even wider, "And you...you're the same. And you haven't been eating much either! Have you two... have you two been sitting in these thrones for the past few days?!"

Castor and his wife looked at each other, their faces filled with complete confusion. Before they could say anything more, Francisca grabbed both of their arms. With surprising strength, she lifted them from their thrones and looked at both of them, "Both of you are coming with me. We're going to get you food, water and-"

Francisca stopped as she suddenly became aware of a dim light shining beneath her hands. She looked down, only to gasp as she saw her hands glowing a bright white color. The castle staff behind her also gasped, with some falling to their knees, as the light began to flow into her parents. Castor and Francia stood in stunned silence as the white light emanating from their daughter's hand enveloped their bodies, filling them with a warmth they had never experienced before. By the time the light disappeared and Francisca released their hands, both of them appeared changed.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

The bags under Castor's eyes had disappeared along with the wrinkles on his face. He looked much younger, with his body standing straighter than before. He looked down at his palms, flexing his hands while his mouth hung open, "I...I...I feel...amazing. It's like...like I'm in the prime of my life again!"

Castor clenched his fists and tensed his body. His long atrophied muscles could now be prominently seen beneath his royal satin robes. Francia, to his left, was experiencing a similar reaction. She pulled a mirror out of one of her skirt pockets to gaze at her reflection. A delighted gasp escaped her lips as she began to rub her now smooth skin. Her eyes shone with a light that had been lost to her, while her teeth had regained their snow-white coloration. She gently rubbed her cheeks, her mouth slowly curling into a smile, "I...I feel so much better. What... did you do this, Francisca? How? Could it be... can you hear God's voice?"

Francisca stared at her hands as the light disappeared from her palms. Confused, she stood stock still as she spoke, "I...I...I can't. I just...I don't know. I don't know what's happening."

"Personally," Castor's voice was far more confident than usual. He stepped forward and placed both of his hands on Francisca's shoulders. He gently gripped them while his face lit up with a smile, "All I care about is that my daughter is healthy again. Whatever else comes from that can be discussed later. Right now, let's enjoy the fact that one of our lights is able to walk by our side yet again."

While keeping one hand on Francisca's shoulder, he used the other to hold his wife's hand. She smiled warmly at her, prompting her to put away her mirror and move closer to press against his side. A contented sigh escaped her as she rested her head on his shoulder. Francisca felt her previous worries dissipate. She instead focused on leaning against her father's left side. The warmth of her father's embrace made her heart flutter with happiness. Part of her thought that, perhaps, she was in a dream world. That she hadn't really woken up today. That this was all a dream, and she would wake up from her horrid existence.

Until she heard his voice.

"What a wondrous occasion!"

Her body stiffened, and she felt her heart sink. Her hands tightened as she realized that this was not a dream. This was reality. How could she tell?

Because if it were a dream, the man who had just entered the throne room with his arms out wide as if he were waiting for a hug, wouldn't exist. Priest Maxwell Noscrim.

And as he walked into the throne room, his portly figure jiggling with each step, Francisca couldn't help but notice something. Something that shouldn't have been obvious to her, yet she could see plainly as day.

Noscrim was nothing but a liar from head to toe.

----------------------------------------

"El!" Wilmarina Noscrim shot up in her bed, her hands gripping the sheets as sweat dripped down her forehead.

The healer in the room was taken aback by the woman's outburst. She turned around, her hands gripping the bag of medical supplies tightly. Wilmarina blinked as her senses returned to her. Her eyes quickly scanned the room, recognizing it within moments. She looked down and noticed that she was lying in a white medical bed. Her clothes had been replaced with a simple white gown. Her eyes narrowed as she pulled the sheets off of herself.

"Lady Noscrim!" the healer shouted as Wilmarina attempted to get out of bed, "You shouldn't get up so quickly! Your wound is...

"It is not enough to stop a Hero like me," Wilmarina forces a smile as she lands on her feet. She forces herself to stand up straight and scans the room for her regular attire. She finds them lying on a desk near a changing curtain. Ignoring the healer's protest, she grabbed her clothes from the desk and stepped behind the curtain. After closing it to protect her modesty, she spoke up, "But still, please tell me what happened while I was unconscious."

The healer blinked as she stared at Wilmarina's silhouette. Then she shook her head and adjusted the glasses on her nose, "Lady Rosnair found you lying on your desk in your office. There was a large wound on your chest, covered by an unfamiliar substance. She brought you to the castle and handed you over to us."

"And my clothes?"

"We removed them to ensure that the substance hadn't spread to the rest of your body," the healer explained, moving to the desk in the room. She reached into one of the drawers and pulled out a scroll. She unrolled it and started to read, "The substance itself was light blue in color, with a crystalline structure of some sort." We attempted to remove it using our tools, but none of our efforts caused any damage. But over time, we did notice it slowly disappear on its own, retreating into the hole in your body.

Wilmarina looked down as memories of the previous night flooded back to her. The strange man she ran into, followed by the sudden pain in her chest. She placed her hand over her heart, her eyes widening in shock. There... there wasn't a wound there. Her skin was completely intact. She couldn't see a scar anywhere. That... that didn't make sense. Why wasn't there anything there? Shouldn't there be something to demonstrate how she got injured?

"Lady Noscrim?" the healer's voice interrupted Wilmarina's observations. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and then focused on putting her clothes back on. She finished tying her pure white skirt and blouse in place before securing the large buckle of her belts around her waist. She picked up her red cape, fastening it in front of her neck, and then grabbed her headband. She placed it over her pure white hair before turning towards the curtain. She made sure her long brown gloves and boots were fully laced onto her hands and legs, then opened up the curtain.

"Thank you for the information. Pray tell, where is my weapon?" Wilmarina said, quickly adopting her "Hero" persona.

The healer blinked, then pointed towards the door of the room. Lying against the wall to the right, with its blade sheathed inside its scabbard, was Wilmarina's personal weapon: The Magic Sword Orufoyu. The legendary weapon was once wielded by the novice Hero Lescatie. Legends say that he used the weapon to defeat countless Mamono, and with it, he establish the nation that bears his name. It is a weapon of immense power and is only worthy of being wielded by the strongest Hero in the nation, her. To anyone else, being given such a powerful weapon would be the greatest honor. The clearest representation of how their skills have been recognized by everyone.

But to Wilmarina? It was nothing more than a dreadful reminder of how she was shackled by her mantle of "Hero."

She nodded at the healer and walked over to the weapon. However, as her hand clasped the hilt of the weapon, she felt a jolt shoot up her arm. She blinked as her eyes fell onto the weapon she had carried ever since she became a Hero. It seemed to pulse, for lack of a better word, with a strange inner power. And not the kind that could be seen with casual observation. No, this power she sensed... it felt hidden. Like it had been concealing its true power from her. And that, with just a thought, she could unlock this power. But why would that...?

Wilmarina shook her head and picked up the sword. She clipped it to her hip while heading out the door, waving goodbye to the healer as she walked outside. It was probably just her imagination playing tricks on her. She had been wielding Orufoyu for months now. If the blade had some kind of hidden power, then it clearly didn't think she was worthy of it. And she didn't blame it. She hardly represented what one would call a "Hero". It's why El didn't-

She shook her head as she left the room, attempting to erase those events from her mind. The moment she left the room, a familiar face ran up to her. Blonde hair swished through the air behind her, while her dark blue and gray armor clanked as she moved. Vermut Rosnair came to a halt just in front of Wilmarina. She stood at attention, her eyes filled with worry, while still maintaining her professional demeanor as she spoke, "My lord, Lady Wilmarina! Are you alright?! I apologize that I wasn't able to get you to the healers more quickly! I apologize for my inability to locate the one who harmed you. I worked through the night, searching for anyone suspicious, but it was fruitless. Please forgive me for letting you down."

Vermut bowed deeply to Wilmarina, her broadsword clanking against her hip. Wilmarina pushed down her feelings of annoyance and smiled at her bodyguard, "It is alright, Vermut. You did all you could. There is no need to punish yourself for my mistake. I was careless and didn't see the attack coming."

"Lady Wilmarina... your generosity truly knows no bounds. One such as I is completely unworthy of such compassion," Vermut continued, as Wilmarina started to walk down the corridor. She followed her while keeping a hand over her heart.

Wilmarina simply hummed as she kept her eyes forward. Inwardly, she tried her best to not ask Vermut to leave her be. Truly, she just wanted to go back to her room and have some time to herself. Consider the things that she saw last night. What it meant that El no longer recognized her as Mari. How he was showing kindness to women other than her. But she knew that dismissing Vermut would be unbecoming of a "Hero." And if she didn't strive to be the greatest "Hero" she could be, then Elt would never recognize her again. He would only ever see her as his commanding officer. Never as the girl for whom he made a ring of flowers all those years ago.

And such a thing was unacceptable.

"Where is Luciana?" Wilmarina asked, "I would've expected her to come see me."

"She was called away to investigate some Mamono sightings that came in earlier today. She'll likely return sometime in the afternoon," Vermut assured her.

"Ah, I understand. It is good to see her taking her duties seriously," Wilmarina lied. She wanted to see Luciana soon. Her heart was filled with a whirlwind of emotions. Anger, sadness, pain, dejection, and despair. If she didn't confide in someone, anyone, she had no doubt that these feelings would eventually explode at an inappropriate moment. And Luciana was similar to her. She always felt like the girl was fighting not because she wanted to, but because she had someone she wanted to impress. Someone whom she couldn't see because her duties forbade it. Even if it was selfish, being around someone who was so similar to her helped Wilmarina feel better. If only a little bit.

As they continued walking through the castle halls, the two began to notice a commotion among the servants and guards. At first, Wilmarina paid them no mind. They weren't talking about Elt or her mentioning her fulfilling her duties as a "Hero". So whatever they had to say didn't matter. But, eventually, her ears caught a maid saying something impossible. Something that made her pause in the middle of the hallway.

"Princess Francisca has fully recovered!"

Wilmarina turned to watch the maid who said this walk run off with a guard. Vermut stopped just next to her, her brow raising in confusion, "my lord Lady Wilmarina?"

"That maid... she said that the Princess has fully recovered?" The words sounded unreal to Wilmarina. Even as she spoke them aloud. She hadn't seen Francisca in a long time. Not since Elt... left the castle. The last time she saw her, the princess could hardly get out of bed without assistance. If the maid was lying, then that was rather...

"Oh! Yes, I forgot to tell you! It's all around the castle. Apparently, Princess Francisca woke up today and was completely fine. She even managed to walk all the way to the throne room to meet her parents! Many are saying that the Chief God heard her parents' prayers and finally healed her of her illness. Isn't that wonderful?" Vermut's voice was filled with excitement. Her eyes sparkled as she gazed at Wilmarina.

Wilmarina forced a smile and nodded, "Y-Yes. That is wonderful."

She lied through her teeth. Yes, it was good that her estranged friend had returned to full health...but why? Why did she receive this blessing? Why did Francisca get to be happy once again, but she wasn't? Why did God restore Francisca's health, but did nothing to prevent her father from expelling Elt from the castle? Why was she forced to endure being a "Hero" when...

"P-Please listen to reason," Wilmarina heard the voice of her father nearby, as if summoned by her thoughts of him. She looked down the hall in front of her and spotted his rotund body rounding a corner. She felt a disgusted shiver run up her spine but made an effort to maintain the fake smile on her face. However, she soon noticed something strange about the way her father was standing. He usually stood with his back straight, proudly wearing his purple robes and satin trousers. She always saw him with his head held high and his nose pointed down at everyone around him. As if, despite being a Priest of the Order, he saw himself as superior to everyone else.

Yet, as she watched him now, she noticed something different. Something that caused a small part of her to feel a pang of joy.

His head was bowed. He was kowtowing with his nose pointed toward the floor. But to whom? Who could be so aggressive that they could make her father supplicate to them?

Her confusion and surprise only grew as she saw the person he was talking to rounding the corner. Princess Francisca. The fourth child of the King and Queen of Lescatie walked past Maxwell, not even looking at him as she spoke, "My words are final, Noscrim. Starting today, I will be assuming the role of the chief ambassador of our country. Any and all communications from other nations are to come to me first. Understood?"

Wilmarina's mouth fell open at her friend's tone of voice. She had never heard anyone talk to her father like that. Everyone always walked on eggshells around him because they knew he had the power to ruin them if he chose to. Francisca must have known that as well. Yet, here she was, giving him orders!

And to make things even crazier, her father listened! She saw him wince and bow his head even further to the Princess, "I-I-I understand. But, Princess, your illness has only been gone for a few hours. Perhaps you should refrain from engaging in any strenuous activities. Lest you aggravate your-"

"I could've sworn I said my words were final, Noscrim," Francisca cut her eyes at the portly priest, stopping him in his tracks with a single glare, "or must I repeat myself?"

"N-N-No," Noscrim turned his head away from the princess, "I...I will make it so, Princess."

"Good," Francisca turned away from Noscrim, wearing a pleased grin on her face. Then her expression lit up when she spotted Wilmarina in the hallway. Her grin grew as she waved at Wilmarina, "Mari! I've finally found you!"

Wilmarina was speechless. She was so shocked by what had just happened that she didn't even budge when Francisca came sprinting down the hallway towards her. While Vermut got down on one knee before the Princess, Wilmarina stood there, mouth agape. Francisca stopped in front of her friend, saying, "It's so good to see you again. And my, how you've grown. You look so beautiful and confident."

"Th-Th-Thank you, "Princess?" Those were the only words Wilmarina could muster.

Her father stepped forward and huffed, "I thought I taught you better than this, Wilmarina. Why are you standing there, when you should be kneeling before the Princess?"

Wilmarina flinched under her father's angry gaze. However, Francisca waved him off, saying, "Hush, Maxwell. You should go and prepare those missives and messages for my review. I'm going to catch up with Mari."

Before anyone could protest, Francisca grabbed Wilmarina's wrists and started pulling her away. Surprised by her friend's strength, Wilmarina could only stumble as she was yanked away from Vermut and her father. Her mind raced as she tried to make sense of what was happening. Francisca was completely healed? And she could stand up to her father, Maxwell? Who could do nothing but listen to her? Was she dreaming? Nothing was making any sense. Her mind was so scattered that she didn't even notice when Francisca stopped in one of the hallways overlooking the castle entrance door.

Francisca let go of her hand and turned to look Wilmarina in the eyes. Her tone was soft as she spoke, "So, how have you been?"

"F-F-Fine," Wilmarina forced out, trying to avoid making eye contact with Francisca, "I've been fine. Just...being a Hero. Hehehe."

She hoped that her mask would help her here. But Francisca frowned instead and said, "You're lying."

"Wh-What are you...?"

"I can tell," she said as she took a step forward and gently grabbed Wilmarina's hand. She lifted it up while staring at Wilmarina, "Ever since I woke up, I've been able to do...strange things. I alleviated my parents' exhaustion. I can give orders and people listen to me without question. But most importantly, I can tell when people lie to me. It's how I knew that your father had been lying to my parents for a long time now."

"P-Princess," Wilmarina tried to step away, but Francisca's grip held her in place.

Francisca stepped forward, her face inches away from Francisca's, "And I can tell you're lying to me too, Mari. But why? Why would you...wait a minute...where's Elt?"

Wilmarina flinched at that. She tried to hide it. She did everything in her power to conceal her pain. From showing how even just hearing his name made her heart ache. But it wasn't enough. Francisca's eyes widened as she grabbed Wilmarina by the shoulders, "Don't tell me...is he gone? Why? What happened? Did your father have something to do with this?! What happened to El-"

"Please stop!" Wilmarina jerked away from Francisca, panting, while sweat dripped down her forehead. Her chest rose and fell with each heavy breath escaping her mouth. Francisca watched her friend while extending her hand towards her. Wilmarina turned away from her friend, her body and voice trembling, "Please...just stop. I... I can't... I don't want to think of him. "It... it hurts too much."

"Mari," Francisca's voice was filled with sadness and worry. The sight of her childhood friend in pain...it was almost unbearable. Seeing someone so strong act like this... it wasn't right. It shouldn't be like this. She wanted to help. She wanted to tell her that everything would be alright. But... she knew deep down that her words wouldn't reach her. No, there was only one person whose words could reach Mari when she was like this.

With determination filling her chest, she reached out and grabbed Wilmarina's hand, "Come on, Mari. We're leaving."

"Please, no. I..."

"I'm not leaving you like this! I know...I know that nothing I say will help you. But I know who can. And no matter where he is, we're going to find him. Then we're going to bring him back here, where he belongs. Then we're going to go into the garden and play, just like we used to."

Wilmarina looked up at Francisca, her eyes wide with disbelief, "You...you can't mean..."

Francisca nodded with a determined smile on her face, "Yes, I do. "Let's go get Elt back."