Lucky Rabbit

Edgar and Isidor came running down the road as the knight carried Kaden back up. Two more knights were with them, weapons bared. The prince was already demanding to be let down, and those demands redoubled when he saw Edgar and the others. With obvious reluctance, his would-be rescuer did so, and the prince only swayed a little before he began tugging at his clothes.

Pandy had returned to her rabbit form as soon as she was certain she was out of sight around the hill, then landed and hopped back as quickly as she could. Her small, agile body allowed her to move quickly, even on the sharp slope, so while she might have missed some brief conversation between the knight and the prince, she doubted it. She just wished she had some popcorn as she settled in to watch the excitement.

First, Edgar checked Kaden over for injuries, then demanded the story. Kaden obliged. “I was just about to return to the carriage when that girl decided to come up. She slipped and,” his cheeks reddened, “my legs were asleep, so I couldn’t catch my balance. I fell, but someone caught me.” He frowned, looking at the caped knight. “I don’t think it was-”

“No, it wasn’t me,” the man in the metal shell said, and for once Pandy was sure he was a man. The armor did a remarkably good job of concealing gender as well as identity, but he just sounded masculine. Besides, Pandy was almost certain this was the person Isidor called Master. “I would have been too late,” he admitted, voice thick with self-recrimination.

“Then who?” Kaden asked. “I thought I saw-”

Sir Master shook his head ever so slightly, and Kaden stopped instantly, leaving Pandy – as well as everyone else – wondering what the prince thought he’d seen. A rabbit? A woman? Wings? A rabbit or a woman with wings?

“They’re a friend,” another voice put in, and everyone turned to see Augustus, with a sobbing Clara hanging from his arm. Tears streaked the girl’s cheeks, and when she saw Kaden, she tried to run to him, but Augustus caught her wrist. He wasn’t cruel about it, he simply didn’t allow her to get any closer to the prince.

“I’m so- sorry,” Clara whimpered, eyes looking even more luminescent than usual with the silvery tears pouring from them. “I sl- slipped, and then-” She gave a wracking sob, and pressed her fist against her lips.

Augustus pulled her in, allowing her to cry into his lapel as he patted her back gently. Over her head, though, he shot a look toward Sir Master, who tipped his head from one side to the other in return. It was a silent ‘I’m not sure’, and Pandy felt it down to her furry soles. Clara certainly seemed genuinely distressed, and why would she have tried to hurt Kaden? She’d only known him a few hours, and she’d spent most of that time staring at her own breath.

To Pandy’s surprise, it was Edgar who made the first move. Walking over to the crying girl, he, too, patted her on the back. “All’s well that ends well,” he offered, though he didn’t quite look like he believed his own words. “We should probably get back, though. And I need to thank my own resc-”

He let his hand fall, turning back to look around. But Isidor was gone, at least from Edgar’s perspective. Pandy could still see him, trying to become one with the slender trunk of a particularly determined tree. Isidor’s camouflage was on, and performing better than usual thanks to the fact that he was in shadow and holding completely still. The two knights who had accompanied Edgar and Isidor down the hill were likewise absent, but their disappearances were far more thorough, a fact which kind of gave Pandy the heebie-jeebies.

“Who was the boy who saved me?” Edgar asked, and Kaden turned to him, distracted from his own traumatic experience.

“Why did you need saving?” the prince asked.

Edgar clamped his mouth shut, but Augustus chuckled. “He tried to throw himself after you. Fortunately, another of my companions was able to grab him before he could do so.” He met Edgar’s eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ll pass on the message.”

Sighing, Edgar gave Kaden a look. “Things like this only happen around you.”

Kaden smirked. “You’d spend your life with your nose in a book if it was up to you. I’m just doing my part to make sure you don’t become any more of a stuffed shirt than you already are.”

Edgar’s brows rose. “Oh, I don’t think I’m in danger of that, do you?” There was something in his voice that made Pandy blink, and Kaden’s cheeks turned a deep shade of red. Pandy looked back and forth between the two boys. What was that? They couldn’t be… There was no way…

Sir Master cleared his throat. “Aiden, you’ll ride with me on the way back. Edgar, are you all right to drive the carriage, or should I-”

Edgar shook his head. “I just have to pack up my telescope again.”

“I can help with that,” Augustus said. He cast an unerring glance at Pandy’s location, adding, “I’ll ride back with Miss Clara, as well. I haven’t had much opportunity to speak to her, and I’m certain she’d rather not be alone after all of this. You can take my horse.”

Clara’s crying had stopped, and her perfect, pearly skin showed not a single trace of redness or swelling. She gave a watery smile, however, and said, “That would be lovely, Mr. Blackwood.”

And that was what they did. Augustus and the knights had tied up their horses just out of sight of the peak, and Kaden took Augustus’s mount while Augustus helped Edgar with his telescope, then climbed into the carriage with Clara. Isidor rejoined the knights, trotting off on his own steed. Pandy waited until everyone was on their way before invoking Wings of Glory and Shield of Darkness and spiraling down to land on top of the carriage. Even with the sound-muffling effects of the shield, she half-expected Edgar – or the knight now riding beside the carriage – to notice her presence, but neither of them so much as twitched. Pandy hunkered down and pressed her ear to the roof before dismissing her spells.

“-to meet you,” Augustus was saying. “I so rarely have a chance to just spend time with the students’ families. My predecessor was chancellor for so long that he knew their parents when they were children, but I’m new at this.” He chuckled, and Pandy wished she could see what was happening. Was Clara as charmed by him as Pandy was? Was she smiling?

Clara’s reply was so low that Pandy could only understand a few words. Something about “honor” and “experience”. She did not, as most people would, follow up with a polite question about Geraldine or Augustus’s position as chancellor. In fact, a silence fell that Pandy found awkward, even though she wasn’t part of it.

Augustus tried again. “Are you enjoying your visit? Do you think you’d like to attend Kestrel or Condor someday? Unless your family bought a house in Knightmere, you’d have to live in, like Geraldine does, but the staff and teachers at the school will come to feel like a second family.”

Pandy strained to hear as the carriage rolled over the road, wheels grinding out a pattern of thumps as they went over the cobblestones. Had Clara replied? If so, why hadn’t Augustus answered? What was going on in there? Finally, as the carriage rounded a corner a little too quickly, causing two wheels to lift, and cutting the ambient wheel-sound in half, Pandy heard, “-years… no hurry.” That was definitely Clara, but Pandy felt like she was trying to fill in a crossword puzzle with no clues.

“What if your parents suggested you attend Kestrel next fall?” Augustus said, sounding genuinely curious. “Would you refuse?”

The carriage jumped slightly as they shifted from cobblestones to the smoother material used by some of the larger, straighter roads. It wasn’t concrete, because it didn’t look like it was poured, but it was in slabs that were perfectly fitted together. Probably magic. Definitely magic to Pandy, because she could suddenly hear Clara perfectly well.

“I’m quite satisfied with my life as it is,” the girl said, sounding prim. “I have no urge to alter my role. When the time comes, I’ll do as I must.”

Alter my role? Do as I must? What thirteen-year-old talked like that? Well, Clara, obviously, but that wasn’t how she sounded in Gacha Love. In fact, when Clara arrived at Condor, she was mocked for her simple country clothes and her informal speech. That very honesty and informality was part of what charmed the male leads. They were so used to everyone tiptoeing around them because of their status, wealth, or pure good looks that Clara’s forthrightness was like a breath of fresh air. Yes, it was cliché, but it was a cliché for a reason.

Augustus seemed to sense that he’d pushed as hard as he could, or perhaps he was responding to nonverbal cues, because after this he shifted to more neutral topics: food, weather, and the festival. He asked if Clara had ever participated in Idomoros before, to which she replied with a simple, “No.” He asked if she had any problems with the accommodations. Also no. Only once did he manage to prompt a reply that was more than three words long.

“I’m sorry we don’t have enough space to provide you with a separate bedroom,” Augustus told her, on the heels of her latest rebuttal. “It’s probably uncomfortable sharing sleeping quarters with your parents.”

“No!” Clara said. “I… don’t mind. I don’t remember sleeping with anyone before. It’s not unpleasant. My mother… sings to me. She laughed when she did it the first time, but now she strokes my hair.” There was a pause. “Did your mother stroke your hair and sing to you?”

Again, Pandy wished she could see the two of them. Why was Augustus taking so long to answer? Maybe she could just poke a claw through the roof. One claw wouldn’t make a very big hole, and the roof wasn’t that thick, so it probably wouldn’t even make that much noise.

“She did,” the chancellor finally said. “I think she still would, if I let her. Good mothers are like that.”

“I thought mine might be a good mother,” Clara said with some satisfaction, and after that refused to speak beyond polite monosyllables. Not that Augustus tried very hard. He seemed to have settled into his own thoughts, and the remaining portion of the trip contained more silence than conversation.

As soon as she saw Falconet’s gate ahead of them, Pandy thought, wincing as the wings burst from her back. With Augustus this close, the spells and the Minor Heal that followed wouldn’t even cost Corruption Points, which was good, because just using Wings of Glory so many times had already brought her total down by seventy-five points.

Shield of Darkness successful.

Three more uses to reach level 4.

Wings of Glory successful.

-16 LF

Four more uses to reach level five.

You could throw yourself off of things and hit the ground to level up both.

Then a few Minor Heals, and repeat.

We could knock out level 20 in a day!

That actually wasn’t that bad of an idea. Pandy was really tired of Biting and Scratching herself, but she could be a professional faller-downer. She’d been practicing for that job her whole life. She flew up and away, avoiding the brightly-lit front steps, where a servant already waited, bundled up in a coat and hat, breath pluming softly in front of their face. When the carriage came to a stop, the servant pulled down the little step, and opened the door.

Pandy couldn’t see the servant’s face behind the foggy breath and a warm scarf, but they seemed strangely unsurprised when the chancellor climbed out with Clara, rather than Kaden. Clara headed straight inside, but Augustus stopped on the bottom step and turned to Edgar. “The gelding can rest here for a day or two, until that leg is recovered enough to travel,” he told Edgar. “I’ll let Chancellor Lockhart know. She can send our horse back tomorrow, or keep him until we return yours.”

Edgar nodded gratefully. “I appreciate it. I’m glad we caught it early. I didn’t realize how steep the climb would be. We would have had to turn around, or even send for help. Though I suppose we had to do that anyway.” For a moment he looked like the fourteen-year-old he was. “I’m glad you were there, Mr. Blackwood. Thank you.”

Augustus smiled. “You’re very welcome, Edgar. For what it’s worth, I believe, ah, ‘Aiden’ has a good friend in you. Not everyone would have done what you did, knowing the risk to themselves.”

Edgar laughed. “I didn’t even think about it. If I had, I would have known I didn’t need to do anything. I’m glad your companion was there to save me from my own foolishness.”

“Following our hearts may be foolish,” Augustus said, gently tapping the side of the carriage. “But not following them is often more foolish still. The cost of doing nothing always outweighs the risk of daring to act.”

Edgar sat in silence, staring out across the backs of the horses, who were starting to stamp in impatience. They were ready to get home, out of the cold. “I’ll keep that in mind, Chancellor,” he said at last. “Please, don’t forget to thank my rescuer for me.”

Augustus nodded and started up the steps, pausing only to look up at Pandy, where she sat perched on the edge of the roof like a particularly fluffy gargoyle. He smiled and touched the brim of his hat, then went inside, while Edgar clucked to the horses, and the carriage rolled away.