damned_institute | Day 43: Courtyard, Third Shift

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Day 43: Courtyard, Third Shift

Once again, Endrance's nurse interfered with his plans. He had been planning to look around the Game Room, but the moment he began to move towards the Sun Room, she had taken him by the arm. "Your family has asked that we make sure you get as much fresh air and sunshine has possible, and you won't get that by staying inside playing video games all day."

He had thought for a moment about protesting, but decided against it. After all, if what had happened to Haseo was punishment for having spoken too strongly the day before, he didn't want to make that worse somehow. So, when given the choice of going out to the recreational field or the courtyard, he chose the latter.

There were a few reasons behind the decision, the most salient being that he wanted to see what the area looked like for a second time - this time without the threat of a brainwashed patient surprising him. The second reason was just as strong as the first, and it had to do with the presence of a second former Demon Palace Emperor. As energetic as she was normally in The World, he couldn't imagine Alkaid not wanting to spend some time outside.

Just as before, he sat down under a tree by the side of the pond, keeping one eye on the door.

[closed to Alkaid]

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"I'm glad you aren't remembering me entirely out of the expectation of needing to prosecute me someday." Frey's smile became a bit shy as he tried out something rather like a joke. He would master this "small talk" thing yet!

Looking out over the small pond, Frey's expression became wistful for a moment. If he ignored the walls, and the strangely distant and cold sun, and the fact that the pond was barely more than a puddle, it could almost be like a park in Lordlake. Lordlake before its destruction, of course. "As much as anything in this place can be considered pleasant, I do find this particular location quite nice."

"You should hope that never becomes the case, Freyjadour Falenas," Franziska said, setting the journal down in her lap decisively. Her eyes steeled and for a moment she became the woman she had been before she ever faced that infernal blue-suited attorney. "When I prosecute a case, I never lose." And just as quickly as it came, the coldness disappeared and she relaxed some, a smile quirking the corners of her mouth. "But it would be a shame to see you, of all people, fall to me in court, so we shall leave this as a...personal association, not a business one, hm?"

She followed his gaze out, sitting straight and tall on the bench, refusing to let herself relax into anything wistful like poor Frey. He was so far from home, far from his kingdom, and without a single person to rely on. So far as she knew, that was. That sort of vulnerability was exactly what Franziska had a soft spot for. It was why she tried to protect children, and why, despite her drive to maintain her cold reputation, she still looked after Adrian. "Yes, this courtyard is quiet enough to allow for a suitable work environment." That...probably wasn't he meant. "...and it is rather aesthetically pleasing."

It would be interesting, Frey suspected, to see Franziska take on the surviving war criminals of Falena, but certainly not very likely. Even less likely that Frey would be among those on trial, all things considered--the rebel army had done everything it could to minimise casualties and help the innocents that the Godwins put in danger. And, on a more cynical note, the victors were seldom subject to punishment, even if they hadn't been as scrupulous as Frey's forces had been. "That certainly sounds the more pleasant option."

Frey smiled at Franziska, having more than enough odd people in his army that he was quite used to listening for the unspoken meaning of the harshest or most awkward of words. "Falena is, in a sense, all but landlocked. We have only one port on the ocean, but the river Feitas winds all through the Queendom. Most travel is done by sail, and every town and village is touched by the water in some way or another." Waving a hand at the pond, Frey shrugged a little ruefully. "It's not much of a pond, but it's still a pleasant sight to my eyes."

And the more appealing one for Franziska right now. She was used to juggling a few cases at a time, but never had she had such emotionally draining ones sitting on her desk all at the same time. The prosecution of Martin Landel, the apparent murder of Martin Landel, the investigation into the inner-workings of the Institute, and, of course, her foremost case; her father. Having even a few people with whom she could converse who weren't related somehow or another to a case was a godsend, and one she wasn't about to turn away. With a gentle 'hm' of approval, Franziska let that topic drop, however, turning instead to talk of Freyjadour's country.

She shouldn't have been surprised to hear that his homeland was named Falena and that he was named after it. It was a common occurance after all, and Franziska was more than accustomed to dealing with royalty after a certain case or two. Still, it caught her off guard a little, and she noted that tidbit in her journal - Falena (country), Falenas (ruling family). As Freyjadour talked, she tried to imagine his country's shape - one port, a winding river, lakes and water in every village. She had never really thought of the geography of her own homeland, but in a way, she supposed it was similar. Germany faced the ocean on it's smallest side, landlocked by other countries to the south, west and east. "I see. It...sounds like a very rich countryside." She paused and then continued. "Then I should add sailor to your list of accomplishments?"

"It was a beautiful country, until the war. It's still beautiful, if you don't look too closely at some spots." Frey sighed, thinking of the destroyed eatern third of Leclar, and the Beaver village that had barely escaped being completely burned to the ground. Even understanding the influence of the Sun Rune as he did, it was hard for Frey to understand how the Godwins could have destroyed their own country and claimed it was for the best. But then, his mother had done much the same to Lordlake. "I wish I could be there, now that they must be re-building." At least he'd been able to see Lordlake revived.

At the mention of sailing, though, Frey shook his head. "Mostly I was just a passenger. Before the war I travelled mostly on official inspections, and after..." Frey shrugged slightly. "Learning to sail is a commoner's role, was what I was usually told. Or for the officers of the navy, but princes were not meant to do anything so useful as that. I was supposed to be decorative and then be married to a foreign diplomat's daughter, eventually. I was lucky my father came from outside of Falena, and his influence allowed me more freedom than most males of the royal line."

Freyjadour didn't know how true those words were of all things. When seen from afar anything could look beautiful - a landscape, a bowl of fruit, a person's win record. It was upon close examination that the threads of that illusion began to unravel, revealing dead grass or bruises or failures. The smile slipped from Franziska's face as she thought of that, and of the things she'd be doing that night. Her father was her idol, her anchor, and now she had to destroy him with her own two hands. How beautiful his method had seemed when she had just taken it as it was; and how despicable it was when actually turned about and really looked at. Folding her arms, Franziska closed her eyes and nodded slightly. "I am sure someday you will return to see it back to its former glory. Once we finish this place, everyone should be able to get home."

Of course, as Freyjadour kept speaking, he revealed something rather interesting. The males in his line were treated like the females in any other royal line. Usually it was the princess who was reduced to faceless decoration and subject to political machinations. "Lucky indeed," she said, opening her eyes. If there was one thing Franziska could not stand, it was discrimination based on sex. As a female prosecutor (and a young one at that) she had caught a lot of lip when she first started out. The constant comparisons to her father, the talk of how she, as a female, could never rise to the higher ranks because male prosecutors were just so much better at not getting their emotions involved - she'd whipped every single one of those useless fools, but their words still stung. "Perhaps now that your country has changed, you will be afforded the freedom you so rightfully deserve."

"I hope so, too. My sister has some really good people around her now, to help her put things to rights, but..." Frey was almost the only family she had left, and Cousin Haswar, while a kind and wonderful person, was someone they'd really only barely known. Smart and tough and incredible as Lymsleia was, she was only a child. Frey wanted to be there for her, as much as for Falena.

Frey had to smile, though, at the thought of Lym, even if he did worry about her and want to be with her. "I'm sure there's a lot of things she's going to change. My sister hated some of the traditions she saw no purpose for, and she can be remarkably stubborn." And though Frey could never approve of how Aunt Sialeeds had gone about it, it was still true that most of the corrupt nobles of the Senate were either dead or had their positions weakened terribly by the war.

Ah, that was right. Freyjadour had a sister. It was likely she was the one who was ruling the country now, with Freyjadour's parents gone. But there was something odd about the way the prince spoke and it took Franziska a bit of time to parse out what exactly. Freyjadour's tone. There was something almost protective in the way he spoke, as if his sister were possibly younger than he was. Franziska only recognized it because... well, she had the same sort of tone (to a lesser degree) when it came to him. Not, of course, in his company or in anyone's company, but in her head.

"A stubborn woman is a good one," Franziska said, smiling faintly. She liked the sound of Freyjadour's sister. A woman, ruling her own country, disposing of useless things and improving efficiency? Yes, Franziska certainly liked that. "I should hope she changes things to your favor then. Equality is as important as justice and perfection in all things."

Talking about Lymsleia was bittersweet, because Frey was worried about her and missed her, but with some time and distance from the war he was also finding himself more able to focus on the fond memories he had of the time before things had fallen apart. Even some of the memories of their few wartime meetings were almos pleasant, in their own way. "I don't think that, when I was her age, I could have been half so brave and brilliant as she was during the war."

"Do not doubt yourself, Freyjadour Falenas." If she were capable of sounding encouraging, she would have at that moment. Instead (and much to her own chagrin), she sounded a little bit like she was scolding the boy at her side. She merely couldn't stand to see people lower themselves in comparison to others. She refused to do it herself and she refused to allow others to do it in her presence.

And judging by the way Freyjadour was speaking, his sister had to be the younger one. Franziska knew a bit about being the younger sibling, just as she knew about being an elder sister (albeit figuratively), and she chanced a small smile, just a trace of it lifting the corner of her lips. "The younger often becomes brave because of the example of the elder."

Fanziska was starting to remind Frey a little bit of his mother, but he knew better than to say anything of the sort to such a young woman--she would no doubt be insulted. Not that his mother was old, but certainly she was older than Franziska and while Frey didn't have much skill at "small talk," he did have some diplomatic sense. "I hope so. Being a good example to Lym is just about the best thing I could ever aim for. She's going to be shaping the future of our country for many years." And, of course, Frey loved his little sister and wanted the best for her.

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Day 43: Courtyard, Third Shift

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