Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Afternoon sunlight filtered through the reinforced glass of the study's windows, already edging into the cool red of evening. Crown stood at attention by his mistress' desk, resisting an uncharacteristic urge to shuffle his feet on the burgundy carpet. Across the room, the woman in question pulled a tome from the carved bookshelf and considered it thoughtfully.

In his decade of loyal service as butler to the Edelfelt clan, and to the Lady Luviagelita in particular, Crown had rarely seen the need to second guess his mistress. Occasionally he was called upon to offer his expertise on security details, or explosive ordnance, or the meaning of an extra ruffle on a servant's livery. Always upon request, or where his confidence justified imposition upon his lady's thoughts.

He could not in good conscience claim such confidence on the battlefield of Association politics, nor its attendant armories of fashion and etiquette. But then, there had never been a need to. His lady had always commanded an impeccable plumage in that arena, a true hawk among sparrows.

Which was why the cough felt so rough in his throat.

"Are you sure, my lady?" The same training that had held him steady under artillery bolts kept the arch from his brow, even as she looked inquiringly up from her reading. "About the dress."

The book snapped shut. Lady Luviagelita smiled brightly as she placed it aside, then gathered up the folds of the skirt and twirled (twirled!), offering it for his appraisal.

"You don't like the beading?" she asked.

"It lends the roses a striking effect," he allowed, and that was true enough. They sparkled a bright silver against the powder blue silk. "As you know, that style was rather in vogue eight years ago."

The reminder should be sufficient. His lady knew the importance of keeping pace with the zeitgeist, how mastery of the winds in one domain implied the same in other, more clandestine ones. How eccentricities had to be carefully curated, lest the wolves scent blood.

"High time for a revival, then!" Her chin lifted to an overly haughty angle, the equivalent of a slap from a dueling glove in his lady's circles. Crown found himself instinctively glancing around the empty room for the target, while Lady Luviagelita patted her fifteen-years-obsolete crystal earrings. "And no one better than my splendid self to usher it in."

"Just so," said Crown, suppressing another wince when he spotted the lace-up heels under the hem of the dress.

A pleased hum as she went back to perusing the shelf.

It wasn't his place to question. His mistress had led the Edelfelt clan with a deft, and often brilliant, hand since the messy business of her ascension. He had to trust that she knew what she was doing, that there were angles unseen to him. This was doubtless part of a plan, a temporary loss of face patiently suffered in anticipation of a greater triumph.

He would aid her in it as best he could, and proudly.

"Shall I trim the hedges, my lady?" he asked, meaning whether he should take steps to minimize word to the family back in Turku. There wasn't as much need for veiled speech in the safety of the mansion, but habits had a way of clinging.

His mistress blinked, then walked over to the window and peered out.

"The hedges look fine," she said, making his brow furrow as she took a seat at the desk. "I think I'll catch up on some reading before the party."

Crown involuntarily glanced at the stack of papers at her elbow, then back at the grimoire in her hands. It wasn't like his lady to engage in casual reading before the daily missives were done.

Unease fluttered in his chest.

"And please have one of the maids bring me tea and a snack," the heiress said absently as she turned a page. "Always be prepared. That way you don't end up stuffing your face at the cocktail table."

His training stuttered on the inelegant turn of phrase, enough to raise an involuntary eyebrow. Worse was that his lady would ask a simple maid to brew her tea, instead of leaving it in his hands. Had he somehow displeased her? No, she would reprimand him directly.

If she were feeling herself, that was.

The unease deepened into a hard lump.

"Yes, my lady." He gave a small bow. "The lavender blend?"

Lady Luviagelita abhorred lavender tea.

Sharp amber eyes flicked towards him. She considered him for a moment, then smiled. "Whatever you think best."

Crown's shoulders relaxed under his suit. That request — half test, half show of trust — felt more like the mistress he knew and was honored to serve. Enough to overlook the earrings.

It was his mistress' prerogative to practice her assumed role however she saw fit, after all.

"Very good, my lady."

The study door clicked shut. Left alone, Rin allowed herself a pleased roll of shoulders under the fashion crime of a dress.

It was amazing, really, what trained staff could get you. Rin only had to point out the various pieces on the laptop over lunch, and the Edelfelt retainers had managed to not only wrangle them up, but have them custom fitted in time for evening cocktails.

A grin stole over her face. She'd only been in control of Luvia's body since noon, and she was already well on her way to making the harpy rage. Showing up to a Clocktower social, even one as comparatively informal as a garden party, in this dress would have the sharper tongues wagging for weeks.

And that was before Rin put the rest of her plan in action.

The triumph already bubbling in her veins was worth the knowledge that she was slamming the door viciously shut on Luvia ever letting her borrow a book.

Not that she'd lower herself to ask, of course! Even if this treatise on igneo-thaumaturgical resonance looked promising for…

Rin gave herself a little shake and set the book firmly to one side of the desk. Keeping her eye on the prize was paramount—especially since she would be walking a delicate tightrope tonight. As much fun as it was to foul up Luvia's oars, she couldn't take it too far. A party was never just a party at the Clocktower. An outdated dress was one thing, but there were far more serious faux pas she could trip into. The wrong wave to the wrong person, a smile made mocking by grudges she wasn't privy to. She wanted Luvia tearing at her ridiculous blonde curls when she returned to this body, not hanging upside down in someone's dungeon.

And that was assuming the spell did wear off. That Rin wasn't stuck here for good, and—

No.

Rin wouldn't countenance it. Whatever Flat did to botch the ritual, it could only have invested it with so much mana. When that ran out, the World would register the contradiction and snap her and that insufferable drillhead back into place. Hopefully. And if not, Rin would fix things herself.

Even if there would definitely be things she'd miss about this body. Rin sighed as she trailed the elegant nails along the rosewood. Not just the gorgeous complexion and full figure — she could admit it, without its cow of an owner smirking in her face — but the unfamiliar yet powerful magic crest pressing on her nerves.

What possibilities might open up, if she had time to properly study the spells stored within? All the coffers of the Edelfelt clan to fund her experiments?

(What could she have done, if things had been a little different?)

She ran her fingers down her left arm—the same place her own crest was located, which meant nothing—and shook her head. That also would be a step over the line. Rin had her pride as a magus, and it didn't stoop to stealing her rival's magecraft in such an underhanded manner. It would be too much like admitting defeat.

Besides, Luvia Edelfelt was a nice vacation house, but it wasn't home. Rin had spent too many years taking care of herself—through growing pains and war and belated smiles and lonely nights—to let either her body, or the life it represented, go so easily.

So yes, she made herself smirk, she'd let Luvia return to this body and charmed life. Once she'd set up a minefield and dug up all the dirty laundry, that was. Enough to shut that smug donkey up the next time she got braying. And if Rin let her eyes linger on the mirror tonight, let them glide over stupidly generous curves and boobs… well. Consider it compensation for the whole mess. No, for that harpy's endless list of crimes against her.

For the intoxicating burn in those golden eyes, right before they beat the hell out of each other.

Soon.

For now, Rin relaxed into her chair—then soured when she saw the stack of reports waiting at her elbow. Of course she'd taken a look at them earlier, but it was hard to make heads or tails of them, even accounting for her rough command of Finnish.

"Coded," she muttered resentfully under her breath. "And no cheat sheet in sight, of course."

Luvia must devote a lot of mental energy to keeping track of it all.

Irritably she leafed through the top one, then threw it back on the stack. Tempting as it was to shove it all aside, some were bound to be time sensitive. Not to mention they would pile up quickly if Rin was stuck here for any significant length of time.

Damn it. She'd have to deal with them when she got back from the party, wouldn't she?

At least the most urgent items.

If she could figure out which those were.

Rubbing her temples, Rin experienced an unexpected pang of sympathy for the Edelfelt heiress. Maybe she wouldn't "accidentally" spill wine down the dress tonight, after all.

She looked idly around the study, wishing for a cup of tea in her hands. Archer—a sharper pang, centered in her chest—would have brought it already. But it wasn't fair to expect the same domestic alchemy from the maids. Though come to think of it, maybe Rin should tut impatiently at them, given how unreasonable Luvia always was about every—

Something sparkled on the wall. It took her a moment to recognize the object hanging proudly inside the glass display case. A necklace, white sapphire on a simple gold chain.

Rin's necklace.

Her fists clenched. She hadn't seen it since the harpy had snatched it in their courtyard brawl, one which had ended in a treacherous suplex and a month's worth of wounded pride.

And here it was, a shameless trophy.

"You smug cow!"

Heat swept through Rin's veins. Right, she wasn't the only saboteur at work on this battlefield. If she understood the spell correctly, and there was no reason to think she hadn't, then the bimbo was in her body at that very minute. No doubt scheming something horrible for her to come home to, the sort of treachery only that twisted mind could dream up.

Her lips pulled back in a grimace, then slowly relaxed into a smirk. Oh, she'd spill the darkest wine she could find right down this bovine décolletage. She would fawn all over that idiot Recoa too, if he showed up from Archeology. The guy already made goo-goo eyes at Luvia so blatant that even Gray had picked up on it. Add a little fuel to that fire, and he'd trail her for weeks to come.

Snickering, Rin ran a satisfied hand through her hair—then cursed when it caught in the drills instead of carding smoothly.

This selection would never do.

Luvia's lips pursed as she dug past blouses and slacks and woolen coats, hoping the closet might disgorge more treasures. The Union Jack stockings she had found tucked far in the back were a treat, as were the adorable cat-print pajamas. Most of Rin's clothing had nevertheless proven disappointingly tasteful, if rather cheap. Bland, too, compared to Luvia's own wardrobe, but there was no denying the simpler cuts and solid colors suited the girl's willowy frame.

Not that she expected any less from anyone calling themselves her rival, naturally! Still, it wouldn't hurt Rin to own a few more guilty pleasures. Of the humiliating sort, though Luvia would have also welcomed more lingerie than an (admittedly fetching) set in black silk.

Perhaps modeling it would give her ideas?

Borrowed fingers brushed against silk before she reluctantly put it aside. Everything in due course, as Crown would say. First the photo shoot for wider distribution, and then she could indulge in a private collection.

Unfortunate that both sets would lack that pretty blush of mortified anger. But Luvia would content herself with seeing it on Rin's face, while the girl spluttered and seethed at another contest lost. For no doubt the barbarian was even now planning some underhanded scheme of her own.

Which meant Luvia needed to make her time count.

Warming further to the task at hand, she held the pajamas up against Rin's body in the mirror. Her smile turned into a frown as she considered. No, they weren't enough to guarantee victory. Not even if she tied the dark hair up in pigtails, imitating the old photographs her agents had sourced from Fuyuki. She needed something bespoke if she truly wanted to see her rival explode into furious scarlet.

How fortunate, then, that the Edelfelt specialized in custom arrangements. A pity there wasn't time for a proper tailor, but much could still be done off-the-shelf if you knew where to look.

Smile back on her lips, she walked the short distance from the tiny bedroom to an equally cramped kitchen. The lack of space felt rather suffocating, but she assumed one grew used to it. It would nevertheless be a relief when Flat's ghastly blunder ran its course, and things returned to their proper place.

A quick glance at the calendar on the wall (and Luvia would have words with Rin about leaving it exposed near the window, where anyone with familiars or even binoculars could learn her schedule) confirmed that there was nothing on Rin's agenda that evening.

Or the evening after. In fact, Luvia noted with some envy, the closest thing to an event was afternoon tea with the Pentel sisters penciled in for that weekend. Though she did wonder about the date circled near the end of the month. No note or explanation, just a red ink circle. As if that were reminder enough.

She pondered a moment more, then gave her cheek a reprimanding tap.

Focus, Luviagelita. You have shopping to do.

And while she perfectly trusted her fashion choices—including the sabotaging kind—it never hurt to have a second opinion. Especially since a witness to "Rin's" new tastes would make the followup photographs that much more delightfully convincing.

Luvia could be forgiven a giggle as she searched for an address book. That gave way to a frown as she flipped through and found it as sparse as the calendar. Well, Rin was a difficult personality, even if she did hold a certain prickly warmth. Perhaps it was to be expected. It was still a bit disconcerting however, not seeing a single 'Tohsaka' among the contacts when Luvia's own overflowed with relatives (including a few she would admittedly have liked to disown).

Perhaps she would mock Rin for it later, perhaps not. For now, she was pleased to find some familiar names. She tucked a stray strand behind Rin's ear (it seemed they needed words about proper hairspray, too) as she considered.

Gray? No, the girl would keep what she'd seen respectfully to herself, however bizarre.

Cabyl? Nearly impossible to tear from her figurines at the best of times.

Yvette was perfect, however, and Luvia happily dialed her.

'Hi Rin! What's new on the south side?"

Luvia blinked, then quickly situated the flat on her mental map.

"Does Lamberth seem far south to you, Yvette?" she asked, dripping some of Rin's sarcasm into her voice.

'If it's past the Wandsworth, it's south enough!' replied the other cheerfully. 'So what can I do you for?'

Luvia curled the cheap cord around a finger, in imitation of her host's uncouth mannerisms.

"I was wondering if you might be free," she said, careful to stay a little standoffish. "I'm going clothes shopping, and—"

'Yes! I thought you'd never ask!' That was certainly enthusiastic, even for Yvette. 'Where are you thinking? Artesia Falcon? Lobo & Brock?'

Most of Luvia's clothes were uniquely designed and fitted for her, as expected of an heiress, but she did enjoy an occasional browse of London's fashion boutiques. The two mentioned offered inventive but ultimately classic styles, in line with Rin's general tastes, and thus of no use. What she needed was a shopping centre with a full range of options, however unpleasant the prospect of dirt and crowds.

"I'll be, ah, 'hitting up' Westfield London—"

'Ooh! Yes, I'll absolutely come! Black Widow just put out a new line of punk ruffle heels!' Punk ruffle…? 'And we can stop by Spiderwick too, and House of Brookings and… oh Rin, you're the best!'

A sudden misgiving stole over Luvia—but no, this was exactly what she needed. She could leverage this local knowledge—and stamina—to her own ends. She only hoped Rin had prioritized endurance as much as hammer kicks in her training.

"I am, aren't I?" she preened as she ran a hand through her hair, self-satisfied as only a barbarian could be. "Then I'll meet you at the, ah…"

Did Westfield London have a fountain? All shopping centres had fountains, surely.

'By the cinema in an hour? I need to do a little 'research' there anyway.'

"Sure," she said, then hastily growled an obligatory, "and I don't want to know."

'Really?' Yvette sounded honestly surprised. 'Well, if you're set on all work, no play…"

"I didn't say that," said Luvia, hoping she hadn't somehow scuttled the operation, but Yvette only giggled.

'Great! Then it's a date!'

The girl hung up. Luvia found herself scowling at the phone before reminding herself that this was the equivalent of 'see you soon' from the Lehrman heiress. It didn't mean anything. Better to bask in anticipation of yet another plan coming together just so, and the reward at the end of it.

Luvia wandered back to the bedroom, practicing Rin's best scowl in the mirror and giggling. She couldn't quite manage that flush of anger in the cheeks, but that would come soon enough.

"Wait until you see what I have in store for you, Rin! Ohohohoho!"

Chapter Text

"God, this just…" Svin muttered as he tugged awkwardly at his tie, already coming half-undone. "The school tie is bad enough, but this double Windsor stuff… why do we have to wear little nooses, anyway?"

"Consider it revenge for high heels," said Rin on reflex, then hurriedly sipped from her wine to cover a wince. That was all wrong for Luvia, she'd be on about breeding and manners. How to damage control?

"Hey, I wouldn't vote for those either." Luckily Svin was too focused on his tie to notice the slip.

It was a nice one, dark blue to go with the crisp white shirt and charcoal suit, but it was clear he'd never touched it before tonight. His face was pale in the orange glow of the party's floating lanterns.

He struggled a little longer, then shot her a pleading look. "... hey Luvia, do you think you could…?"

This time, Rin was ready.

Clicking her tongue haughtily, she reached over and deftly restored the knot. "It can't be helped, since the Glascheit are one step away from peasants."

That was precisely the tone the harpy had used with Rin on many occasions, one she knew she had down pat.

She'd expected the small crinkling of Svin's nose, but not the flash of hurt in his blue-green eyes.

"You can just say no, you know." He pouted for a moment, then his handsome brow softened. "Having a bad day?"

"Not at all," said Rin, covering her surprise with another sip. When Svin didn't look convinced, she added, "putting aside an earlier incident with Flat in the west library."

Instantly she had his warm sympathy. "I knew it! As soon as I saw that blue stain on his cheek, I knew he'd blown something up again. Do you know what he told me?"

"I can hazard a few guesses," she said, matching his exasperated smile, "but do go on."

They spent a while in pleasant conversation, moving from Flat's newest idea for El-Melloi II's office hours (Rin resolved to avoid them that week) to the owl exhibit at the British Museum. Sadly nothing about the failed ritual, but asking about it risked bringing attention to the body swap, and Rin wasn't desperate (not yet).

A few other guests joined them, exchanging pleasantries before they moved on towards the flowerbeds, or the refreshment tables set out under the colored tent. Several stared at her dress, but held their tongues. A sliver of resentment slid under Rin's satisfaction. Had it been Tohsaka and not Edelfelt, the knives would have been out in full force.

When the server came by, Svin cautiously selected a glass of white wine from the tray. Rin watched his fingers curl around the bowl for a moment, then reached out and gently guided them down to the stem.

"Hold it like this. Otherwise your hand warms the wine."

"Ah, thanks. Feels less stable, but I guess taste comes first." He gave the clear liquid a small swirl around the glass and sighed. "Sorry about that. I try to watch my body language at these events, but…"

Meaning his Beast magecraft. It probably hated the taste of alcohol, too, but Svin took a polite sip anyway.

Rin didn't have the heart to properly sneer at him.

"It's simply a garden party," she reassured him instead. "None of the snakes are here." She lowered her voice as she made a show of pointing out a lantern that had come unmoored, and now bobbed and ducked its way over the peonies. "Well, except a few from Policies. But they aren't looking this way."

"Yes, you're right." Svin puffed out a breath as one of the servers chased it down. "I just… I have all the wrong instincts, you know? I'm not quite human, and a lot of people don't let you forget it."

"If you're worried about showing weakness, then don't sweat the little mistakes. Wear them with confidence—even arrogance." She almost gave him a nudge before she remembered herself, and held her chin up. "Besides, didn't you make Pride rank?"

"Well, yes," he allowed with a shy smile.

"Then the people that matter have recognized your worth. As for the sparrows, let them titter all they like."

"People that matter, huh…" Svin stared into his glass for a moment, then looked up and nodded. "I get it. It's better to flaunt what you can't change. Like Yvette does with the gems in her eye."

"That's right," said Rin approvingly as she brushed a drill over one shoulder. "Even better, weaponize it if you can. The old fogeys around here could use a little shaking up. Ohohoho!"

Even coming planned from her own mouth, that damnable laugh made her fingers twitch.

Svin looked searchingly around the crowd, then back towards her with an odd expression.

"Something wrong?" asked Rin.

"No, nothing. I just thought that…" Blue-green eyes widened as he spotted something over her shoulder. "Thank you for the pep talk, but I've taken up enough of your time. Have a pleasant evening."

She blinked as Svin legged it towards the tent. Slowly, making a point of seeming unhurried, she pivoted around.

Ice prickled down the nape of her neck.

Oh no. That was Adele Salviati, wasn't it?

Rin had never spoken to the woman, the scion of an old and well-established clan of Hermetic phantasmagorialists. Had never been given cause or opportunity to do so, thank god. But she had no trouble recognizing the silver hair ruthlessly caught in an elegant braid, the shrewd brown eyes in a face that dared wrinkles to try anything.

Perfectly polished, and perfectly detestable. Rin had seen what she'd done to the poor first year who'd tripped over her path, and the smile she'd worn afterwards.

"Ms. Salviati," she greeted with a reserved nod, willing her grip not to tighten around her glass.

"Miss Edelfelt," rejoined the other stiffly. "A lovely evening."

"Quite. One that will only improve once Lord Jigmarie makes his appearance, I'm sure."

As much as Rin wanted to brush this interaction off, that wasn't possible. Not without giving Luvia a much darker social black eye than she'd intended, and this woman more cause to smirk. She regretted the outdated dress now, and the earrings too, because nothing was worth the pleasure glittering in this bitch's eyes.

"Not long now, I expect. His lordship is very punctual." Salviati's rose-painted lips curled in muted disdain as she glanced towards a small group assembled near the food table. "Just as well, for the company grows tiresome."

Rin knew exactly what she was getting at, even before the dark gaze swept towards three students standing by the lilacs. One of them had presented a fascinating dissertation on Lindwurm runes the other day, in a hall that stood mostly empty— for he had only two generations to his crest.

Her fingers twitched as she considered a new target for the wine in her hand. It wouldn't show as well on midnight blue satin as pale silk, but the satisfaction would be immense.

And the scandal too. One that might bust Rin on the spot.

"Noblesse oblige," she said with a haughty tilt of the glass, and hated herself for it. "One must set a good example for the commoners, even if it's only to remind them of what they'll never be."

There. Now she could shove off and leave Rin to drown the sour taste out in pretentious liquor.

Salviati's pale brow arched in surprise, then creased in pleasure. The ice in her smile melted into a conspiratorial warmth.

"So they're finally wearing on you," she murmured as she lightly, almost playfully tapped her wine glass against Rin's. "Mmm, mmm. I understand that there are… considerations that must be taken into account, of course."

"Indeed," said Rin, for that seemed safest while she tried to figure out this unexpected turn.

"Nevertheless…" Salviati's gaze briefly swept over the crowd before returning to Rin. "If the Edelfelt ever wish to return to the fold, you'll be welcomed with open arms."

Rin's polite mask froze on her face. Right, the Salviati were of the Traditionalist faction, and… shit.

Salviati sipped at her glass as she looked towards the azaleas, discreetly awaiting "Luvia's" response. Damn it, damn it. There was no way in hell Rin was accepting that proposition, but how forcefully could she reject it?

Out of time. The impatient lift in Salviati's brow told her so.

Rin delicately downed the last of her wine, then turned to the woman with an unreadable smile, one she'd perfected for Ryuudou back home. "The wine here is passable, at least. I believe I'll have another glass, so if you'll excuse me…"

Hopefully that was ambiguous enough. Rin had to hope so, for Salviati's expression was equally unreadable as she wished her well. She forced herself to maintain a slow, confident step as she crossed over to where she'd last spotted Svin under the tent.

God, as much as it made her mouth burn, she wished Luvia were here. Luvia would have eviscerated that woman, turned that arrogant silver tongue of hers to biting steel. She wouldn't be hamstrung like Rin, ignorant of the politics at play.

Huffing, Rin moved towards the drinks table. It didn't really matter which vintage she chose this time because it couldn't be much more than a prop. Not if she wanted to keep a clear head.

Lord El-Melloi II didn't seem to have the same concerns as the server handed him a bourbon. Or maybe it was a matter of lesser evils.

She gave him a sympathetic look. "Adashino?"

"Adashino," he confirmed glumly.

Rin glanced around the crowd . There was indeed a flash of a lily-patterned kimono sleeve near a few notables from the Astromancy Department. Faces that Rin was only vaguely familiar with, but that were certainly acquaintances of Luvia's. Which—Rin suppressed a groan—meant another round of pointed conversation before she could leave.

Maybe a few more sips of wine wouldn't hurt.

"I see Lady Reines isn't in attendance tonight," she remarked, hoping to delay the inevitable.

Her professor huffed. "A conveniently sudden appointment down in Knightsbridge. At least she had the decency to bring Gray with her. As for the rest of us…" He took a pull from his cigar, mournfully watching the smoke curl in the air before turning back to her. "Incidentally, you're not earning extra credit for this."

Rin's brows lifted in surprise. "Why would I—"

"Luvia!" cut in a bright male voice. "Dreadfully sorry to make you wait, darling. Can I bring you anything from the dessert table to make up for it?"

Recoa, dressed in his best cerulean suit, grinned brightly at her from across the way. El-Melloi, the traitor, took the opportunity to slip away in the crowd and evening shadows. But then, wasn't this exactly what she'd wanted?

Think of Luvia. Think of how she'll lunge at you when she finds out.

Rin put on her most simpering smile.

"Oh Sir Recoa, how wonderful to see you!"

The payment terminal beeped angrily.

The clerk raised an eyebrow, then turned apologetically to Luvia. "I'm sorry, miss, but it seems as though the purchase didn't go through. Should I try again?"

"If you would," said Luvia smoothly while cursing Rin in her head.

There had only been one credit card in Rin's purse. That girl really needed a more reliable bank, because if this failed again… well, it would be most embarrassing. And while humiliating her host was Luvia's intention, it was vexing to have it occur unplanned.

Another beep.

Red crept into Luvia's cheeks despite herself. She moved to slink away, muttering in Rin's style about defective machinery, when Yvette waved a golden card.

"Don't worry about it!" the Lehrman heiress chirped as she handed it over to the clerk. "My treat."

"No way!" Luvia snapped—for Rin could never accept a debt, no matter the convenience. "Just leave it. I'll sort this out and come back…"

The confused—no, wounded—look Yvette shot her, uncovered eye shimmering a watery blue, made her pause. Luvia wasn't the sentimental sort, whatever Aunt Helmi might insinuate, but the fact remained that her target was Rin, and only Rin. And it was her policy not to sweep bystanders up in a mission when she could avoid it.

"Maybe just this once," she graciously conceded, and whatever damage she might have done to her cause paled compared to how Yvette's face brightened.

"Done! Tell you what, we'll call it a favor if it makes you feel better." Quite remarkable, how cheekily the girl managed to wink despite her star-shaped eyepatch. "Besides, I can't wait to see you dolled up in goth loli! Eee, I'm so excited!"

A favor, Luvia grimaced inwardly as the clerk bagged her spoils. Yvette wouldn't demand anything too terrible, but she was still a magus under her artfully perched hat, and a cunning one at that. She spared a brief thought for Rin before shaking it away.

"You wanted to swing by Scorpion Angel next, didn't you?" she asked Yvette, surprised again that the other heiress hadn't brought a retainer along, given the volume of bags already hanging from their arms.

"More for you than me, if you're serious about the chain stockings," her companion smiled before patting her stomach. "But let's grab a bite first, I'm starving."

Luckily Westfield London's so-called "Village" had restaurants that, although plain and uninspired, at least offered something recognizable as food. That was more than she could say for the lumps of grease and salt sold by the stalls on the lower levels.

They were swiftly seated in an Austrian-styled café, small round tables under a red-and-white awning. Coffee and pastries were duly ordered, followed by idle but pleasant gossip.

Until Yvette brought out a notebook and beamed at her.

"So you were right about phlogistonic resonance being the culprit. I swapped in Tamoanchan jade, and bam!"

"Told you so," said Luvia, smugly flipping hair over one shoulder while inwardly frowning. She hadn't known that Rin and the Lehrman heir were working on a joint project.

"Sure, sure," said Yvette, arching a brow before smiling at the waitress placing steaming cups on their table. "The hard part's still reaching the right frequency without shattering the vessel, but I'm getting closer! I can feel it."

'I'm?' That suggested solo work after all. But then why discuss the specifics with a potential competitor?

"And what about you? Still having trouble getting Herkel's Enneagon to manifest consistently?"

And since when did Rin admit to any stumbles in her research?

Pushing aside the uncomfortable twist in her belly, Luvia picked up her cup. "It's sorting itself out."

"Work in progress, huh? Gotcha, I won't… oh wow, they've really put work into this." Yvette pointed towards the syrup-swan spreading its wings in her cappuccino's foam. "See?"

Luvia did see, and thought it rather garish. But it would be boorish to—

Exactly.

"Trying too hard, hoping you'll overlook the price," she sneered.

Yvette looked startled. She gave Luvia a searching look, then glanced down at her cup and smiled. "Regretting ordering it black? If we ask, I'm sure they'll add some cream and draw you one."

"That's quite all right," said Luvia hurriedly, before her companion could wave the waitress over. "Tell me more about that girl you saw Caules with."

Things moved back into more comfortable territory, at least for a few minutes before Yvette excused herself to use the restroom. Luvia seized the opportunity to call the number on the back of Rin's credit card. Black Widow wasn't a flea market by any means, but it wasn't all that expensive either. The half dozen dresses and frilly apron had come to an entirely reasonable total. Hadn't she avoided her own department store for exactly that reason?

A short but revealing discussion with the bank followed.

Luvia frowned into her coffee, then placed the menu aside. Simply because it wasn't wise to walk on too full a stomach. Not for any concern that she might be blowing half of Rin's weekly food budget on a single meal.

Yvette's uncanny sense of timing held true. She arrived back at the table just as the waitress was setting down their orders, a slice of linzer torte and a plate of marzipan animals.

Luvia couldn't help but wince at the sight. They looked like treats for children, with their bright colors and crudely sculpted smiles. Her knuckles ached from a phantom switch just looking at them.

"Ooh, they're just as cute as they looked in the photo!" gushed the Lehrman heir. She picked up an idiotically smiling frog, careful not to squish the marzipan beneath her fingers. "Look at this one! Look at the teeny-tiny webbed feet. I can't wait to bite them off!"

Luvia crinkled her nose when Yvette cheerfully offered her a glazed puppy.

"No?"

"It's eyeing me," said Luvia with distaste.

"Yeah, but that's half the fun, isn't it?" The other heiress arched a brow behind her eyepatch. "You love these sorts of cute things."

Rin did? Luvia sipped distantly at her coffee while Yvette mimed the puppy begging for a treat. That matched the impression given by the kitty pajamas, but not the vicious tilt of chin that Luvia vividly remembered confronting her from the other side of the library. Was it an act for Yvette's benefit? A holdover from younger days?

She blinked and forced herself back down to earth. Fortunately Yvette was still in orbit, cooing at the marzipan dog in her palm.

"Seriously, they're so adorable. Even my darling Professor couldn't resist. Ooh, which one should I bring him? The little wolf, maybe?" She brandished it in one hand while quailing with the other. "Kyaaah! Don't ravage me!"

Only Yvette could get away with such a display. It made Luvia smile.

"How about the chick?" she suggested, pointing out the licorice scarf wrapped around the tiny yellow feathers. "You could offer to bundle El-Melloi up, too. Keep him warm."

"Good idea!" Yvette placed the figure to one side, then her beaming smile turned sly. "That put you back in a good mood. Oho, are you thinking about love too?"

"Am I?" said Luvia lightly between sips of coffee. It wasn't flirting. It was just Yvette's way.

"Wanna bring one to Luvia?"

Even Crown would have forgiven her the gulp. Because even if the insinuation wasn't entirely out of the blue—the hungry glint in Rin's eyes wasn't anywhere as subtle as the girl seemed to think—hearing it on another's lips sent a little jolt of electricity up her hand.

As did imagining the brawl that would ensue when Rin, returned to this body, opened the box and recognized a taunt.

"Perhaps I will," she smiled after a moment, considering the figures on the plate.

She remembered herself too late. There was clear puzzlement on Yvette's face when she glanced back up, causing her to hurriedly add, "I've got a poison that'll put that stupid drillhead down for weeks. Just imagine it, walking down the halls free of that unholy assault she calls laughing."

"If you say so." The other magus still looked doubtful as she signaled for the check. "So where to next? Oh, how about jewelry? You can give me a second opinion on the rubies."

"If you'll do the same on some photos later," smiled Luvia. "Equivalent exchange, yeah?"

She was pleased to see, from Yvette's grin, that she had at least gotten that one right.

Chapter Text

Rin's feet screamed as she slouched into the study's chair.

She glanced around, assuring herself the coast was clear, before sliding off the ridiculous heels and gingerly massaging her toes. Yet another reminder of why you always wore in new shoes before bringing them to anything formal. And even if it was Luvia's feet that were chafed raw, it was Rin feeling it.

Her aggrieved sigh echoed in the empty study. She'd meant to go straight to the bathroom to soak in the tub, but that blasted butler had reminded her he was on standby to send out the mission orders. Just as soon as she signed off on them.

Sadist. The spitting image of his mistress.

Mournfully Rin looked at the stack of papers on the desk. Had the retainers added more while she was away at the party? She really wasn't in the mood though, with her feet aching and the alcoholic buzz beginning to sour. Maybe she could do the bare essentials now, and leave the rest until tomorrow.

Seized by a nasty suspicion, she flicked through Luvia's phone—thankfully guarded by some kind of scanning spell, not a password—and fumbled until she found the calendar. No dice—there was a funeral scheduled tomorrow. Flipping through to the rest of the week, Rin grimaced when she saw how tightly mission briefings shouldered against Association socials and training sessions. Even Luvia's study time was carefully blocked out.

And through it all, the paperwork would keep growing.

"Fuck," she muttered, careful not to let it carry to the staff waiting in the hallway.

The temptation to shove the stack out the window was almost overwhelming. But considering what the Edelfelt routinely shoved their snouts into, that might touch off an international incident. Surrendering to the inevitable, Rin reached for the ones marked with a red ribbon on top. She had to trust those were the urgent ones.

The first was a field report from a team hunting vampires in the Bulgarian forests. A recommendation to deploy something called Mark IX. Rin signed approval and hoped for the best. The next looked to be a contract negotiation with the Atlas Institute. Rin's Finnish didn't let her grasp the nuances, but it looked innocuous enough. The next…

Rin suddenly wished for El-Melloi's bourbon. Or a bucket to heave into.

Twice a maid knocked at the door. Once to bring tea, and another time to schedule a call with her—no, Luvia's—Aunt. Rin agreed to it as the safest option.

"Thank you…" a small pause while she drummed up the maid's name… "Anja. And how is your family doing?"

The woman's face stayed entirely stoic. Only a flicker in the green eyes gave her away.

"They are all well, my lady," she said in a polite monotone. "Thank you for your kind inquiry."

"I see," said Rin awkwardly. "That's good to hear."

The maid curtseyed. "Will that be all, my lady?"

"Ah, yes. Please take the tray with…"

It was already in the maid's hand. She froze, then relaxed when Rin gave the go-ahead. Another curtsey before she slipped out the study door

Rin puffed out a sigh. The other maid's quiet diligence with the tea, so unlike the banter Rin had experienced with a certain Servant, made sense now. 'Luvia''s show of interest in them made them nervous.

Did Luvia make a point of threatening their families? No, the atmosphere in the house would be far more strained. It was impossible to reconcile with Luvia's bright amber eyes anyway. But there was no denying she was head of a ruthless mercenary clan. That's how these questions would come across, wouldn't they?

Rin looked towards the far side of the study—four empty chairs around an empty table—then sighed and picked up the pen.

Another hour got her through the red-marked documents, and a few of the ones underneath. Enough that she could look Crown straight in the eye when she handed them off.

As for the rest—no, damn it, enough was enough! Letting annoyances pile up for Luvia's return was exactly what Rin should be doing. She had more interesting, and entertaining, things to do right now.

Like snoop around Luvia's bedroom.

With a spring in her step, she made her way there, waving the maids away before closing the door behind her. The room proved stupidly big — god, she could fit her living room and kitchen combined in here — with an equally excessive four-poster bed arrayed in white satin, and a writing desk and vanity and multiple wardrobes and drawers, all carved in the best quality rosewood.

Rin forced her jaw to unclench. Nevermind, Luvia was bound to have something horribly depraved in here. Miss-perfect-noble types always did. With renewed and malicious cheer, she flung open the wardrobes and rummaged through the drawers. That cheer gave way to irritation with each fine silk gown and each… D cup?... definitely D cup, damn her… brassiere she dug up.

Coats and boots and stockings in every style imaginable, and why not? What didn't the world offer her, at the tips of her fingers?

Rin's eyes strayed to the writing desk. There was another stack of papers on one side.

Huffing against the sudden lead in her stomach, she stalked over to the bed and yanked open the ornate nightstand.

Oh. That was where Luvia kept her toys.

A lot of toys. Rin's cheeks flamed as she searched through them. It was hard to keep from imagining how Luvia might use each one. Luvia's face, dizzy and flushed with lust as—fuck, this wasn't working. At this rate, Rin would be the one to fall apart if this ever came up.

Besides, she told herself as she dropped the crystal dildo back in, nothing here would even raise an eyebrow among magi. When marriages were based on bloodline rather than sexual compatibility, and affairs despised as risks to those bloodlines, sex toys were both normalized and rampant.

It was still a relief to snap the drawer shut. Damn Kirei and his hypocritical lessons about purity and morality! If only Rin had the right upbringing—

(what would you have done about Sakura?)

Gritting her teeth, she prowled the room once more.

There, that side drawer. She hadn't rifled through it yet.

Snatching at the handle proved it to be, of everything in this room, locked. Luckily the magical wards gave way to her crest, while a hurried search fished the key from the depths of Luvia's purse. Glee bubbled inside Rin as it clicked home. What might she find inside? Some mystic code or relic, some choice bit of blackmail? A porn stash—a terrifying thought after what she'd already found in the unguarded nightstand—get it together, Rin! Mind out of the gutter!

Only belatedly did it occur to her that it might be a trap. But by then the drawer was wide open, and she was staring down at…

Music albums?

Rin blinked and looked down at the CDs neatly stacked inside. She didn't recognize the band names when she spread them out — Camera Obscura, Leyak, Ardat Lili — but the bleeding letters and twisted drawings of fiends and grim reapers left little doubt.

Luvia wasn't just a drillhead. She was a metal head, too

Rin snickered in delight. Oh, this was too good! A few hummed bars of—she flipped a CD over— "Three on a Meathook" should stop the next sneer about barbarian manners dead in its tracks.

There were wrestling DVDs in here too, most of them autographed. No surprise there, with how eager the cow was to demonstrate their moves. What was surprising was to find them hidden away with the metal albums, along with a signed poster carefully rolled into a tube.

Rin's mouth twisted into a frown. Luvia was never shy about what she liked. Her repeated assaults on Rin's spine and ears were proof of it. This collection didn't look all that expensive, but they were obviously objects of pride. So why was the poster stashed away instead of framed on the wall?

She looked around the room again, noting how little personality was actually on display. The blue silk drapes and rosewood furniture were gorgeous, but something you might expect from any aristocrat's daughter. There were no stray fashion magazines, or favorite paintings, or sentimental trinkets like Rin's crystal horse. Not even a glass of water out of place.

Remembering the look in Crown's eyes when he'd seen the dress, and the heavy silence of the maids, she thought she understood why.

She turned an album over in her hand, running her thumb over a goat with twisted horns. There had probably been vinyls before the CDs, and it was all too likely Luvia had burned them. Maybe it had even been her own idea.

So what to make of the pendant hanging openly in the study?

The shattered concrete that followed only in the wake of their duels?

Rin's stomach did an uncomfortable flip. Refusing to dwell on it further, she closed and relocked the drawer, then turned to the desk. More damned paper. If she found another mission report in there, she'd scream. Preferably directly in Luvia's ear the moment they returned to their bodies, in the hope that might rattle her brain back into place.

There was a half-finished letter on the desk. She swept it up and started reading.

'Dearest Fira,'

A sharp prickle up Rin's spine before she placed the name as Luvia's twin sister. Fira Edelfelt lived in Turku and, rumor held, she was everything her elder wasn't. Shy, good-natured, and happy in her arranged marriage. She'd probably never raised so much as a fist in anger.

She sounded awful, Rin decided, and read on.

'Thank you so much for the winter roses. I had them planted next to the gazebo, the better to admire them over tea. I'm really looking forward to seeing them bloom, they always make me think of…'

Hadn't the garden been full of roses that afternoon? Rin glanced up at the top of the letter. When that didn't yield a date, she checked the last letter from Fira, tucked neatly to the side.

August. That was over a month ago.

She winced. The tone of the letters seemed friendly enough, but that was a long time to go between. Rin herself could be erratic in calling Sakura and Emiya when she was in a crunch period, let alone catching up on gossip with Ayako, but she managed at least once a week.

She glanced again at the neat writing. There was surely a treasure trove of embarrassing personal details in these letters. Rin dropped them back on the desk, soured on the whole enterprise. She didn't want to see records of lives lived apart.

The bed, at least, was soft when Rin collapsed on it. She needed to let her eyes and mind rest. Re-establish her focus. Then she could get back to ruining Luvia's life

It felt like only a minute later when a knock echoed on the door.

"Who is it?" groaned Rin.

"It's Sophia, my lady," called a feminine voice that Rin recognized as the maid who'd brought her tea earlier. "I'm here to assist you in getting ready for bed."

Right, of course Luvia would have servants for that. And maybe a bit of pampering was exactly what Rin needed.

Soon she was seated in the vanity while Sophia deftly around her, wielding brushes and cleansers and cotton balls. A lot of care—and tugging, much of it painful—went into loosening the drills and wiping off makeup.

Rin comforted herself by staring at the pretty reflection in the mirror and imagining it without clothes on. Once in the shower, she'd have all the time in the world to consecrate it to memory.

"If you would stand, my lady."

"Huh?" Blinking, Rin hurriedly wiped away what certainly wasn't drool at the corner of her mouth.

"So I can help you out of your dress. When you are ready, of course."

"Ah… right, right. Go ahead."

Rin had to bite down hard on the blush creeping up her ears. Which was ridiculous, it was only Luvia's body and Luvia wouldn't care, so why should she?

Luvia's used to a lot of things

Rin strangled that thought, focusing instead on her own thwarted ambitions. Namely her growing certainty that the maid was going to stand by the showers with soap and brush, and Rin wouldn't get any chance to admire the goods. Unfair, she inwardly howled while the maid undid the top pacing and eased the dress up and over her head. Unfair, and somehow Luvia had planned it all along, she—

Pain lanced through her stomach, sudden and fever bright. With it came a sharp clench in her magic circuits. It tore a gasp from Rin's throat, sent her reeling and clutching at the vanity.

God, it hurt. It scorched like an icy brand. What the hell?

The maid gave a tiny hitch of breath, barely audible over the rabbit-thumping of Rin's heart.

"I'll fetch the blended tea, my lady," she said softly.

"I… yes, thank you," replied Rin as steadily as she could manage.

The dressing gown folded over her naked body. But not before she caught a glimpse of a white brand on her belly, frost under lamplight, before it dimmed away.

The frilly leash and cat ears lay untouched on the bed.

Luvia's frown deepened as she surveyed the body in the mirror.

It was riddled with scars. Faded white lesions and welts spread half-hazardly over the pale skin of Rin's chest and back and limbs, occasionally criss-crossing angry red lines. Prominent among the last was a set of three wicked cuts running down the right shoulder. She might have thought them claw marks, if they weren't so thin and so perfectly spaced.

Her lips pressed into a thin line. She'd seen some of the scars earlier, picking out dresses with Yvette. But it was only now that the full extent of the damage struck her.

Which was absurd. Why, Rin provoked her at every duel with tight shorts and a spandex top so revealing, it wouldn't cover a pocket pearl. She'd had plenty of opportunity to admire muscles and curves alike before adorning them with bruises.

So how?

She glowered at the mirror again. This time, her gaze fell across a tangle of silver lines running up the left arm, indicating heavy muscle strain in the past. Below, the (stolen, her Edelfelt blood sneered) crest pressed silently against her nerves.

And just like that, she understood.

A disguise spell, that was all. A simple glamor to hide the scarring from the casual eye. Most magi didn't consider the mana cost worthwhile for major disfigurements, but Rin wouldn't be the first to cover up small ones.

Acid crawled up Luvia's veins.

"How dare you?" she hissed at the dark-haired girl in the mirror.

For how dare she hide them? From the Clocktower's vipers was one thing, for some would certainly count such marks as imperfections and judge accordingly. But how could she think the same of Luvia? The Edelfelt clan understood scars as earned glory, or at least experience. Had that pride not come through every punch and kick, every joyful piledriver and suplex?

The urge to smash something into Rin's conniving face made her grip tighten on the camera. She took a deep breath and set the device safely away from the mirror. She would do the photo shoot when she was in the mood again—and make it ten times worse.

In the meantime, she needed tea. Since Rin didn't have so much as a poolboy to her name, there was nothing for it but to stride into the kitchen and brew it herself. Gingerly she filled the kettle with water and set it on the burner, in imitation of Gray shyly moving about the faculty kitchen.

Blue flames lapped under the metal pot. Luvia settled into a seat by the table and thumbed through yesterday's newspaper. Only a few pages in, she found herself stirring irritably. The flat was too loud, with traffic echoing in from below, but also too quiet.

Surely Rin found something to fill all her copious free time. Preferably something scandalous, something to make up for the insult in the mirror.

A keening whistle broke the silence. Hot water and a spoonful of tea leaves duly added to a cup, Luvia scanned the flat again, then smiled grimly at the desk wedged in the corner of the living room. No doubt Rin had already pawed through her letters. She should return the favor.

Alas, there were only class assignments and a stack of grimoires. Perhaps Rin stored the "good stuff" away in a shoebox, or something equally quaint. Nevermind, the assignments would do for now. Getting a handle on the barbarian's spellwork would offer a big advantage in their next duel—or at least the basis of a few good taunts.

Idly she flipped through an essay, tutting at Rin's penmanship. A theoretical discourse on crystalline parabolas. Luvia's mouth landed somewhere between a pout and a smile, for that was exactly the sort of whimsical research she couldn't allow herself.

Still, there had to be something—aha! The notebooks tucked away in the side drawer. When Luvia hauled one out and saw kanji scrawled across the first page, she knew she had struck gold. For if Rin had written down anything truly juicy, it would surely be in her native Japanese.

But her rival disappointed her once again. These were project concepts and notes, nothing more.

"How very dull of you, Rin. Haven't you heard the adage about all work and no play?"

But such work, she could grudgingly concede. The pages positively erupted with ideas, listed down in eager columns and scrawled in the margins. Some were bold, some entirely unfeasible, others smaller and practical—and none of them past the planning stages.

A look at the materials list for a shield charm — rubies and emeralds scratched out for cheaper substitutes, compensating formulas that gradually tapered out —gave her some idea of why.

"You really are an infuriating girl," she scorned, and meant it.

Because it was infuriating, seeing talent locked away in a cage she couldn't shake open. Pride forbade it.

Luvia's steps were almost vicious as she swept back into the kitchen. The cup of tea went down the sink, replaced with wine from the top shelf. A mediocre vintage, left to age too long, but it would have to do.

Thus fortified, she returned to the bedroom in search of entertainment. The mirror still made her frown, but the bookshelf seemed promising. Especially the last row, with covers too flashy to be anything scholarly.

In fact, they looked like—yes, oh yes! Those were romance novels, without a doubt. And from the shirtless man on one spine, every bit as lowbrow as the kind Fira used to smuggle home.

And wouldn't a suggestion that Rin upgrade her sex toys be even better with a few favorite names attached?

Tittering happily to herself, Luvia filed the titles away for future reference while looking for just the right… there, the one in the middle. The spine creased with use, but the pages carefully handled, no dog-ears in sight. That would be the favorite.

Two lady pirates glowered at her from the cover, cutlasses locked in a fearsome duel. Luvia smirked, not in the least surprised. Rin was the very model of a repressed bisexual, even discounting the way her eyes kept flitting down to Luvia's cleavage.

Hopefully she was getting her fill now, she thought with some humor. The better for Luvia to haunt her dreams later. Smirking, she settled down with wine and book in hand, eager for choice bits to throw in Rin's face later.

It was only later, when her stomach grumbled its hunger, that she realized she'd plowed through more than half the story. Well, she could be excused. It was a long time since she'd indulged in anything so frivolous, and besides, Claudia's raid on the Night Guard really was quite—

Another growl. Luvia folded the page's corner with cool deliberation, then almost called for dinner before remembering she was entirely alone. Sighing, she wandered back to the empty kitchen and pulled open the refrigerator, then the cupboards.

Her sigh took on a more aggrieved note. Of course Rin didn't have the decency to stock anything prepared. As for the ingredients—cold rice, fish, some kind of green liquid in a jar—Luvia found herself at a loss. She didn't cook. The rare times she had tried, the maids had firmly barred her from the kitchen. For was it not the business of the wealthy woman, to give employment to the working woman?

Her mouth twisted. Doubtless she could figure something out from an online tutorial, but it would be so much better if Rin was making it. Nimble fingers on the pan, riposting Luvia's well-placed critiques with growls about pampered aristocrats. The inevitable flinging of the pan, then of fists—!

A truck horn sounded somewhere in the distance. Luvia looked glumly at the cupboard again, then picked up the phone and dialed. Rin's budget would just have to stand a little more take-out.

The Daylight Star café was a favorite of Clocktower students and faculty alike. Situated in a quiet corner of the campus' underground reaches, it offered comfortable chairs, plenty of caffeine—and the kind of private spaces that only bounded fields could offer. Over time, it had evolved into a neutral ground in the morass of Association politics, or at least a place where everyone could equally plot against each other.

Rin stormed through the oak doors and marched right past the barristra behind the counter. She found Luvia exactly where she'd expected, sitting in the booth with the blue velvet cushions, coffee and cake already in front of her. The harpy patted her blonde curls absently as she sipped, and Rin found her own hand rising in sympathy before she scowled and yanked it back down.

Luvia didn't bother looking up as Rin planted herself in the seat across from her.

The fucking nerve of this woman.

"Explain yourself," she growled.

"You'll have to be more specific than that, Rin," said the blonde loftily. "While I've had the displeasure of your company for some time now, I'm not a zoologist and can hardly be expected to—"

"Why," her palm smacked on the table and set the plate rattling, "is my closet full of maid dresses?"

"I merely gave you a jumpstart on your inevitable career, once you've learned your right place." Luvia's lips curled in a superior smirk, waving it in front of Rin like a flag before the bull. "Try to be a little grateful."

"You're the worst," said Rin, resisting the urge to throw the creamer at her. Barely. "And a pervert, too. Don't think I missed the cut of that red one!"

Or the stockings, but she'd rather die than mention those.

"Be honest with yourself for once." The smirk fluttered crimson in the air between them. "You would have been disappointed otherwise."

Rin choked on empty air, then glared at her. "The absolute worst."

"Before you wallow any further in righteous indignation," said Luvia before fixing her with a glare of her own, "Perhaps you'd like to explain the horror I found in my wardrobe."

"It suits you," grinned Rin, instantly feeling better.

The blonde's glower grew positively withering. "And to think you had the gall to wear it in public. I think I'll mail out the photos after all."

Rin winced, remembering the email sent from her own outbox. Only to a certain address so far, but….

'You wouldn't,' died instantly on her lips, replaced with a snapped "Go boil your head!"

Maddening laughter rolled through the air. Rin snatched up the menu and briefly skimmed it. Sighing, she signaled the server over and asked for plain Earl Grey. Even if her bank account wasn't quite the scorched wasteland she'd expected when she'd woken up this morning in her own familiar bed, it had definitely taken a sizable hit.

"And so you know, you did the reports wrong." Luvia's mirth had fallen away entirely when Rin turned back to her. Her mouth was a hard line as she set down her cup. "I'm going to be up half the night fixing your damage."

Rin's mouth had just begun to pull back in a sneer when she remembered what she'd read. Ice shivered through her veins. "Nobody…?"

"No, nobody will be hurt from it. You didn't foul up quite that badly."

The conflicted look the blonde shot her—exasperation and accusation, but most of all the hint of sympathy—both warmed Rin's chest and prickled at her.

She watched the server bustle behind the counter for a moment, then locked down Luvia's gaze with a defiant stare. "Aren't you going to deal with the security breach?"

Elegant fingers picked up a fork. "Are you planning on divulging any of what you read?"

"Well, no," admitted Rin.

Luvia calmly cut into her cake. "That's fine, then."

Doubt shivered over the back of Rin's right hand. "Just like that?"

Her rival sighed, fork halfway to her mouth. "Rin, are you trying to cast suspicion on yourself? There are more productive ways to commit suicide."

"No, no!" Rin hurriedly raised her palms in a gesture of denial. "I just…"

Her hand ached. She sighed and stared at the bricks in the far corner. "I know it's not easy to trust, that's all."

"Indeed," said Luvia drily. She ate her forkful, then fixed Rin with a severe look. "And while we're on this topic…"

Rin didn't flinch under the hard flint in those golden eyes. She didn't.

"... if you have mana to spare for a disguise spell, pour it into your fists instead." Flint gave way to sparks of genuine anger. "Anything less than your all is an insult."

Rin did flinch, then rallied. "Hah! I could beat you with one hand tied behind—"

"Not now." The sharpness of Luvia's tone might have been a slap, for how it threw her back in her chair. "The scars. You received them in the Holy Grail War."

A painful sludge of emotions poured into Rin's chest like concrete. She gave a tight nod.

The other magus nodded, as if she already knew everything. "Many would consider them a badge of honor."

The concrete overflowed. Rin stared miserably at the menu in front of her.

"I'm not ashamed of them," she said quietly after a moment. "But I'm not proud of them either." How could she be, when Sakura had so many more? "It was a bloodbath, but there was beauty there, too. I know that sounds sick even though it's true. And after a decade—hell, more than a decade—it's enough. I don't want it to define me for the rest of my life."

"I see," said Luvia. "Well, I can assure you that—"

"And I'm already Tohsaka to you, when you look at me," Rin's mouth blurted, seemingly possessed. "I don't want it to…"

She clamped her mouth shut. Silence fell over the table, leaving her to twist in it. She was just loading an insult on her tongue, a jeer that would let her take her leave with some semblance of dignity, when Luvia reached over and touched her hand.

Scarcely a brush of fingers over the knuckle, instantly gone, but Rin felt it like fire on her skin.

"You can talk about the War when you like, or never at all," said Luvia as she picked up her cup again. "I'm here either way."

"Yeah," said Rin, shakily at first but with growing confidence. "Yeah, of course you will be. You walking plague."

"Someone has to laugh at you when you deserve it," smirked Luvia. "Which, frankly, is all the time."

"Big words from Accelerant Corpse's number one fan."

"Really. Then maybe we should talk about Springtime Petals Academedia 4?"

"Bitch."

"Hussy."

Rin relaxed in her seat as her tea arrived. She took a moment to breathe in the sweetness of wafting steam before nodding towards Luvia.

"That goes for you, too," she said. "If you ever want to talk about…"

She circled vaguely around her stomach.

Luvia arched an eyebrow, her mouth immediately flattening. "Oh, my uncle's parting gift?"

At Rin's stricken expression, she sighed and drained the last of her coffee.

"That's a story for another time, too," said the blonde. "Right now, I think we deserve some wine and rolls."

"As long as you're buying," smiled Rin, and felt sunshine bubble at the end of her fingers when the other shook her head in amusement.

"Have a care not to put yourself in my debt. There are more ways to pay than with money."

"Don't I know it," she chuckled.

And things were almost comfortable when Luvia's phone beeped.

"Recoa," she grumbled after checking the screen. "How did that fool even get this number?"

Rin's face blanched. "Yeah, ahaha, about that…"