The Way We Fall

Chapter 107 (Roche)

The months passed by in a steady crawl and Roche saw herself changing as much as Tigris. The princess had become less playful after her trials with Tarak and Orpheus. She sank into her duties as princess, involving herself more in her father's council meetings and often mingling among the people. She progressed as a warrior as well, her skill with melee weapons and firearms improving exponentially. Roche once watched her defeat half a battalion with one hand bound.

Roche wasn't without improvement either. Her frequent chores, hunts with Tigris, and private fighting practice with the princess had a meagre amount of muscle building on her wiry frame. She wasn't a knight by any means, but she could hold her own in a fight. She kept her hair clipped to her shoulders, revealing her broader back that peeked out of her gown.

Her progress wasn't just physical, either. With all the books in the library, her inkblood was strengthening. She could complete most single word incantations with half a thought, and newer incantations came naturally to her lips.

The Council kept sending minorly enchanted objects to the castle. Roche wasn't sure how they got in the castle, but she'd feel the oppressive press of malicious inkblood entering the castle at night. Sometimes, she'd see the cursed items clutched in the hands of new servants or maids who hadn't seen Tigris' loyalty to her people. As Tigris' maid, she used her status to privately speak with the steward and move those servants to roles far, far away. Then, she'd try to counter the curse on the objects.

It wasn't easy work. Sometimes, she'd end up cursed for a few days before she could undo the enchantment. At those times, Verita and Leinos would try to help her through whatever foul curse she faced. Bad luck, broken limbs, muscle cramps, invisibility, dreadful illness, and weapon magnetism were some of the milder curses.

Roche didn't want to think about that last one. Tigris' sword and multiple daggers had flown at her chest, managing to form deep gashes on her skin before she could disable the enchantment. For someone without inkblood, it would have been fatal.

Thankfully, it had been a few weeks since the Council had tried anything, from cursed objects to major plots to kill Tigris. Frankly, Roche found the lapse in assassination attempts deeply unnerving. She was run ragged searching for possible enchantments.

"I need a break. A vacation or something," Roche muttered to the guards as she took a moment to rest outside Tigris' door. She could hear Tigris' snores through the wood, and fought back a smile.

"Good luck with that. I've been petitioning for a vacation for weeks," one of the guards grumbled, slamming the butt of her spear against the stone floors petulantly. His partner cast him a sharp look..

"You took a vacation a month ago!"

"What's your point? I am in desperate need of another," groused the first guard, tired from his night shift. Roche smiled at him, tossing him one of Tigris' breakfast tarts. The guards gaped at her.

"W-we couldn't eat this! It's her breakfast!" the second guard gasped. Roche shrugged.

"Either you can eat it, or I will." she told him, heat filling her cheeks at their scrutinizing stare, "She won't notice it's missing. She never does."

"She lets you steal her breakfast?" the second guard asked, his bushy dark brows furrowing with suspicion. The first guard shrugged and downed the tart in one gulp.

"Are you surprised, Jer?"

Roche's cheeks burned. Her reputation as a maid with a lack of formality for her lady had circulated the castle. The king either didn't listen to the castle gossip or didn't care because Roche hadn't been reprimanded for her loose tongue yet. Even if she was, she wouldn't stop teasing Tigris. Someone needed to keep her royal ego in check, after all.