Lady Corvina had a headache. That wasn't unusual. She often got stress headaches in the evening, especially when her schedule was particularly busy. And just because the Saintess had swept into her life and turned her worldview upside down didn't mean that she was suddenly less busy—if anything, she was busier than ever now that she had to adapt her her various schemes towards new goals.

Every day was a whirlwind of social events, backroom meetings, secret reports, and drafting new plans. From the outside, it wouldn't seem like anything much had changed in Corvina's day-to-day life. But that was how this kind of political maneuvering operated. On the surface, it rarely appeared as if much of anything was happening. But underneath, everything was in constant flux and the smallest moves could lead to monumental consequences down the line.

That was why Corvina rarely acted at all without seriously considering all the potential consequences.

Currently, Corvina was in her "off hours" uniform—a simple dress, no jewelry, her hair pulled back, and her glasses on. Nevertheless, she was still hard at work in her study, reading through some old church texts.

It wasn't like Corvina had known nothing about the church previously. After all, it was important to know your enemy, and the imperial family had had an adversarial relationship with the church hierarchy for generations. Still, it was suddenly more important than ever that she acquainted herself with as much as possible about the minutia of how the Church of Coris operated.

It was proving more difficult than she had anticipated. There were some older texts that were only available to read within the cathedral itself, and it wasn't as if the bastard imperial princess was particularly welcome there, her new friendship with the Saintess aside. And that was only for texts that were publicly acknowledged to exist. Who knew what sort of secret records an organization like the Church of Coris might keep?

There was a knock on the study door, and Ulrich let himself into the room. He was in his full butler garb and carrying a tray.

"The chef was concerned you've been overworking yourself," he said, setting down the tray. "Thought you could use some warm tea to help you relax."

"Thank you," said Corvina, while Ulrich poured the tea. "Although you didn't need to come all the way up here yourself. You could have sent Helen. After all, you must have had a long day as well."

"You've lost track of time," said Ulrich. "Or you'd know Helen's already turned in for the night. Besides, I wanted to inform you that I've made some headway on my investigation into the rebellion."

Corvina raised an eyebrow as she took a sip of her tea. "Go on," she said.

Ulrich relaxed his stance, shifting modes from butler to spy master. "It's damn strange," he said. "At first glance, it really does appear as if you were right about them. They seem to be a bunch of useless know-nothings with barely an organization to speak of. They're a loose group of connected cells who occasionally meet to argue about philosophy and complain about corrupt nobles, and I frankly doubt any of them would have the ability to coordinate with each other for any sort of mass movement."

"I see," said Corvina. "And at second glance?"

"There are whispers." Ulrich shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe nothing. At least one person in each of these different cells talks about having spoken to the same cleric—a woman with red hair and long bangs that completely cover one eye. But even the most talkative rebel gets a lot more cagey once this cleric is brought up. None of them seem to know her name. And if you spend any time with the rebels you can feel a strong air of anticipation among them, as if they're... waiting for something. I'm not certain, but it's possible that the reason they seem so useless isn't because they're incapable of doing anything, but because they're on a sort of standby. They're waiting for something."

A cleric with red hair... Hadn't someone like that come to usher Anne away on the night of the ball?

"What do they have to say about the Saintess?" asked Corvina.

"They're all convinced she's on their side," said Ulrich. "They talk about her like she's a hero and a champion of the common people. But as far as my people have been able to uncover, not one of them has ever spoken to her directly. Almost none of them have even seen her."

"Hmmm..." Corvina scowled, deep in thought, tapping her fingers on her desk.

Ulrich leaned against a book case and smiled wryly. "Speaking of... it's been a while since you've seen her yourself, hasn't it? The Saintess?"

"Yes," said Corvina. "Nearly two weeks. From what I understand, the church has been keeping her incredibly busy. Perhaps as a way to try to reign her in after she made such a splash her first few days in the city."

"You must be feeling lonely since you can't see each other," said Ulrich.

"Lonely?" Corvina's scowl deepened. "Is that what this feeling is? I've never particularly minded being alone before. I'm capable of enjoying other people's company, but I don't usually feel their absence when they're gone. So why...?"

"My niece," said Ulrich, approaching Corvina and leaning down to place a hand on her shoulder. "That just means that you actually like her."

"Uncle, I told you already," said Corvina. "There are other people I get along with."

"Yes, but you don't miss them when they're gone, right?" said Ulrich. "Even with your other friends you all spend time together partially out of utility. You all materially benefit from your little bastards club."

"I wish you wouldn't call us that."

Ulrich grinned. "What? Miss Vostelmal herself insists it's your official club nickname."

Corvina rolled her eyes.

"Regardless," said Ulrich. "My point is that you've spent your whole life surrounding yourself with people who are useful to you. That's not a criticism. You've had to in order to survive. But you do realize that the Saintess is the first person you've ever chosen to connect yourself to just because you wanted to, right? You almost never act rashly, and yet you chose to reorganize your whole life around her after having known her for less than a day. And not out of any benefit you would gain from it. You just wanted to."

Corvina made an exasperated gesture. "Maybe you're right. But why make such a point of it?"

Ulrich shrugged. "It just warms my poor old crusty heart to see that my beloved niece has finally made a true friend. That's all."

At the opposite end of the third floor from Corvina's study was Helen's room. It was a plain room with plain furnishings, but relatively large for a servants' bedroom, since it was on the third floor.

Most of the servants stayed in rooms on the first floor or in the basement, but since Helen was Corvina's personal maid it was necessary that her room was close to the lady's. It meant that she was kind of isolated from the other servants, but Helen liked Corvina way more than she liked any of the other servants anyway, so she didn't really mind.

Helen was getting ready for bed. She was already in her night clothes, with her long blonde hair hanging free from its usual careful braids, and she was laying out her uniform for tomorrow on her small arm chair. She always liked to check her uniform at night to make sure it was clean and wrinkle-free for the next morning. After all, it was always important to put your best foot forward.

There was a knocking at her window.

Pigeons sometimes knocked against her window but usually not this late at night. She thought, maybe bats?

The knocking came again, louder this time.

Curious, Helen left her uniform and went to go check. When she saw who was there, she screamed.

"Agis!?" she said, throwing the window open and helping him inside. "What are you doing here? And how did you get up to the third floor window?"

Helen stuck her head out the window but couldn't see any ropes or a ladder or anything.

"Not to brag," said Agis, looking smug. "But this kind of climb is nothing to me. I could climb a building twice this height."

"I don't doubt it," said Helen. Suddenly realizing she was indecent, Helen rushed over to her wardrobe to grab a dressing gown to throw on over her chemise. As she put it on, she asked. "But why are you here? Don't you realize how it could look, a man climbing up to a woman's window late at night like this?"

"What do you mean?" said Agis, tilting his head quizzically.

"I mean!" said Helen, starting to blush more and more as she spoke. "I mean people could think that you wanted to... that we were..."

Seeing Helen's expression, Agis started to blush as well. "No no no no, that wasn't what I wanted! I mean, that's... that's not why I'm here! I just need your help with something!"

"It wasn't something that could wait until morning?" asked Helen.

"No, sorry, we don't have a lot of time. That's the whole reason we're here! We snuck out, actually. To come here."

"We?"

"Yes, we!" said Agis, grinning. "I thought maybe you could help me get her inside since she's not as good at climbing as I am."

Corvina stared at her uncle for a while, seriously considering his words. Maybe it was true. Maybe she did like Anne more than she'd liked anyone else before. Maybe she did miss Anne in a way that she hadn't missed anyone else before. Maybe she was feeling lonely not being able to see Anne very often. But did that change anything right now?

Corvina sighed. "What's the point of dwelling on this if we're both so busy we can't see each other anyway?"

There was another knock on the door and Helen poked her head through. Her hair was loose and she was wearing a dressing gown. And she was smiling mischievously. "Sorry to bother you, my lady, but you have a visitor."

"What?" said Corvina, jumping to her feet. "At this hour? I'm not dressed properly, I can't just—"

The door was thrown open and Anne strode in. She was extra pale and had bags under her eyes like she was exhausted, but she was smiling brightly as she waved a greeting. "Hello, Corvina! Boy are you a sight for sore eyes!"

Author's note: Please enjoy this bonus art of Anne and Corvina for Pocky Day! Drawn by @hertzprung on Twitter.