Morning was never quiet at Brass Castle. Chris wasn't the type to lay abed once she was awake, but the constant din of armor, shouting, and the ring of the forge in the courtyard below ruined any illusion she might have of being alone. The maid was already about, come to collect discarded clothes and the remains of her midnight tea.

Chris stood at the mirror, eyes on the maid as she ran a brush through her hair, pulling harder at snags than she strictly needed to. She'd long since grown used to the noise and learned what it meant; there was a certain tone to the sounds of routine repairs and morning practice, one that set her heart to ease when she woke to it. Each morning she could pick out the shouts of the drill instructors, Percival and Leo egging them on.

This morning, those familiar sounds were gone. The ringing of the forge seemed frantic, and the voices outside her door anxious. Percival was wounded and held captive in the infirmary, Louis was late, Leo's booming voice was nowhere to be found.

Would today be the day? Her fellow knights were spoiling for battle. Their retreat from the Karayan forces was a festering wound to their pride. Even Pelize and Galahad, usually so levelheaded, seemed eager to get back to the fighting.

Drawers opened and closed as the maid continued her work, and took her sweet time about it. Chris swallowed a sigh and put the brush down to part her hair.

Was she the only one who thought an end to the conflict with Karaya would be a /good/ thing? The grass thirsted for water, not blood.

The process of braiding and pinning her hair up was routine, almost second nature to her, and she did it without much thought, staring through the mirror at the churning of her own thoughts. Peace. It was a double-edged blade - they'd not lose so many soldiers, yet it would leave her out of an immediate job, and goddess only knew what the others would do. Did she truly want to return home?

Well. Perhaps more than she wanted to slaughter Karayans. Her arm was getting tired.

Chris pinned the first braid in place and reached for another pin. The maid was standing still behind her, tea tray in hand. Staring.

What was there to stare at? "Can I help you?"

The girl stiffened, and the tray shook. "No, I-- That is, I was just..." Red flooded her pale cheeks, and she bowed her head. "I'm sorry, lady knight." There was a strange turn to her words that Chris couldn't place with any region she knew. Her hair was too pale even for Zexen, and the cut--

She narrowed her eyes. Was that a rune on the girl's forehead? Maids had no need of runes. "Are you new here?"

"Y-yes." The maid looked up, then quickly down again, shifting on her feet. "I'm sorry. I saw you when I arrived and I was just fascinated with your hair. I've never seen a style like that."

Chris relaxed, though she didn't feel comfortable with the idea of turning her back on the girl just yet. "You weren't hired to stare." She tried not to be sharp, but the maid flinched. "Go about your business."

The girl made an attempt to curtsy and skittered out of the room, dishes clattering. Chris waited until she heard the door slam before she turned back to the mirror and resumed her task.

The castle never employed foreigners. Traveling merchants weren't even allowed to enter the market place during times of war. That girl definitely merited an inquiry.



(For Karthur. I wanted to try Chris, but I think this would have been better from Sarah's POV.)