𝔽𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣 ℂ𝕣𝕠𝕨𝕟 || 𝕂𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕒𝕥𝕠 𝔸𝕪𝕒𝕥𝕠

43. A Bird's Eye View

Three days ago...

The sound of hurried footsteps was muffled as Fischl and Oz walked down the hall, light casting down upon them from the floor length windows. In this small corner of the palace, they chattered— or argued, depending on your point of view —away incessantly, undisturbed by the turmoil occurring in the rest of the world.

"Mein Fräulein, I still must emphasize the risks you are taking here," Oz said, his hands knitted tightly behind his back as he walked beside her. "If you were to be caught—"

"Hmph. I shan't be caught by the claws of the phoenix so easily as thou seem to suggest," Fischl interrupted, giving Oz a haughty look.

"Still—"

"Your worries are in vain, my dear attendant. Your sovereign is most capable in the field of heisting," she insisted. "In the magnificent gardens of Inazuma for another cycle of the clock shall my father stay. When the mysterious hands of fate have granted us such a moment, Oz, one must learn to seize the opportune moment presented!"

Oz let out a sigh as she quickened his pace to match her increasing one. "And what will become of you if His Majesty finds a disturbance in his quarters once he returns?"

"That is precisely why I, the Prinzessin der Verurteilung, hath brought thee with me. Doth thou not flaunt thy skills of observation in mine presence often? It is the time for thou to rise from the darkness and show the world of the grace that the heavens have blessed thee with," proclaimed Fischl, gesturing wildly as she turned around to face Oz. To others, walking backwards would be a hindrance, but she'd honed this skill well enough from the long walks she'd often partake in with Oz.

"If mein Fräulein insists," replied Oz. "Though, I was led to believe that it would be best for this mission if the world does not, in fact, see us."

"Oh, speak not, loyal servant of the Immernachtreich," Fischl said, her tone flippant, rather than implying any actual offense. "Deine Prinzessin ist tired of your objections."
[Your(informal) princess is tired of your objections.]

Oz visibly refrained from rolling his eyes as they neared the room. Throughout the entire hallway, not a single servant could be seen. Perhaps, under different circumstances, this could be deemed a security breach, but right now it proved to be an extremely convenient phenomenon.

"If the voice of fate has granted me its wisdom, then this is the gate that leads to my father's chamber of rest," declared the princess, stopping before a large set of mahogany doors. Kneeling down, she peered into the brass keyhole, her gloved hand resting lightly on an embellished handle.

"So," said Oz after a good few seconds of silence as Fischl stared at the lock blankly. "What does mein Fräulein see?"

"Absolutely nothing. Hand me one of the extra pins I prepared."

Oz fished a bobby pin from his pockets, presenting them elegantly to her with an air of slight reluctance. It only took her a few tries to get it right, placing the pin back in Oz's open palm as she stood up.

"And so, destiny has favored the Prinzessin and her devout—"

"—and well dressed—"

"—attendant as they journey into the vacant den of the lion to save the Immernachtreich from its foul reign!"

The door revealed an elegant bedroom of beige and white hues, a golden chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Carpet blanketed the floor with its velvety red color. An elaborate bed with a cream colored duvet spread on it neatly was pressed against the wall, placed opposite to a cedar dresser with a wall mirror hanging above it on the wall. Long windows blocked all the sunlight from gracing the room with their drawn curtains. In the corner, an exquisitely carved closet stood, tall and proud. As like all the other rooms within the palace, no expense was spared.