Chapter Text
Two months ago, Maya Fey helped place her mother in her coffin, blessed her body, and spoke the right words in the right order as she buried her in the family tomb in the mountains behind Kurain, same as she had with Mia, three years before that. Two months ago, she let herself break down and cry and scream into her pillow in her chambers in Fey manor. She had dragged Mia’s old chest to her room, burying her face in her sister’s robes, and had shattered silently into shards of stained glass that barely resembled a person, falling asleep wrapped in a memory of comfort and security. She knew it couldn’t last. The day after she woke up, and remembered everything, and her soul ached like a bruise, purple and red, like the robes she wears (or a smear of blood on a lantern, on a statue shaped clock, on a weapon placed in her hand without her knowledge). Two months ago, she tied her hair back, and got up as the sun rose, and smiled for Pearl, and tried with every scrap of normality she had left to get on with her life, that day and every day since.
Two hours ago, Franziska Von Karma arrived at her door.
This…is weird.
~
“Well, are you going to let me in?” says Franziska. She has her hand on her hip and her head cocked in a familiar pose, but there’s something Maya doesn’t quite recognise in her voice. Other than that, she’s the same old Franziska, dark gray skirt suit, booties with too high heels (how can she walk in those?), and the cravat tied tightly at her neck. Maya can’t help but wonder if it’s her father or her brother that she’s claiming the connection with, these days. Or maybe she just likes the air of untouchability and refinement it gives her, another inch or two of skin hidden under tightly wound and starched fabric. Maya can’t see if she has the whip on her but suspects it’s hidden close to hand. Phoenix had started calling it her safety blanket, and Maya privately agrees, though not enough to risk mentioning it in front of Franziska.
Franziska, who is still standing in the doorway, a single index finger tapping out a rhythm on her leg. She coughs slightly, impatiently, and Maya stands aside without even thinking about it. Franziska straightens up and stalks forward into Fey Manor. As she brushes past, Maya catches the scent of her perfume in the breeze, something faint that she can’t quite recognise. Freesia’s, maybe? It’s a nice scent, and it’s a pity it doesn’t match the woman who wears it. The sudden sensory encounter shocks her back into something approaching normality, questions bursting into her mind like fireworks.
(What are you doing in Kurain?)
(Why are you talking to me like I should be expecting you?)
(How did you even get here?)
“Did you take the train?” Maya finally manages to ask, staring at the intruder into Fey Manor ( her manor). Somehow, she can’t imagine perfect, porcelain Franziska sitting on the ripped and cracked pleather seats or grappling the fly encrusted windows open.
Franziska sniffs haughtily. “Don’t be ridiculous. I rented an SUV.” Maya glances out the door, and sure enough, there it is, sleek and chunky and a shiny black only slightly smeared in dust, parked perfectly just behind the sacred boulder.
“How is that less weird than the train?” Maya mutters to herself, pulling the screen door closed. She already has one unexpected guest bugging her; she doesn’t need flies getting in too. “I didn’t even know you could drive.”
“I am an excellent driver. I simply see no reason to sit for hours within the traffic of that foolish city when I have work that I could be doing. A chauffeur is far more practical.” She glances back at Maya and amends the statement, somewhat awkwardly. “If one has the means, I suppose.”
(Franziska Von Karma. In my house. Calling me poor.)
Then again, the 100 ways to save money scroll is hanging right there on the wall. She might have a point, even if she is being mean about it.
Von Karma is peering around the room as though it has some secret to reveal to her, sharp eyes flicking over the paneled walls, and settling on the heavy door opposite to the entrance. It’s still broken because Maya never really could bring herself to have it fixed. She had relied upon her acolytes to protect her whilst channeling, finding that more comfortable than being locked into another small room. And since Hazakura, she hasn’t channeled at all.
“It has been… a while, Maya Fey,” Franziska finally says, her back turned to Maya, still looking at the door.
(A while? Does she mean a while since we last met? Or perhaps a while since she prosecuted me for murder?)
“Did you come here before?” Maya asks because she has no filter, and a part of her is darkly curious about what the answer will be.
“Briefly. I had the scruffy detective do the majority of the investigating.” I was too busy taking illegal photos in the detention centre goes unsaid. Franziska crosses her arms, and Maya has spent enough time with the Von Karmas and Edgeworth to immediately recognise the gesture, a gloved hand flexing in a sleeve, then releasing.
(That’s what it looks like when they’re tense.)
Time to bite the bullet. If Franziska is here to arrest her (again), Maya would rather get it over and done with. “Why are you he-?”
“Spirit Channelling,” Franziska interrupts.
“Spirit Channelling,” Maya echoes, because she does it so often with Nick it’s become a habit.
“You were going to ask why I was here, Maya Fey,” Franziska says, her voice becoming more like its usual forceful self as she continues. “I am interested in the Kurain School of Channelling. I believe you are the greatest living authority upon the subject, as the school’s prospective master.”
“And…who would you like channeled?” Maya says cautiously, fearing what the answer will be even as she says it. She’s already spent too much time being used for revenge by spirits.
Franziska blanches. “Do not assume...!” she says sharply, and then cuts herself off. Her knuckles must be white under those gloves, with the way she’s gripping her sleeve like a lifeline. “I do not seek channeling for my own selfish purposes, Maya Fey. Indeed, after the events of several months I have come to realize just how such a power could be misused. Rather, I am more interested in examining the Kurain method within a legal perspective.”
Maya, who had already been prepared to argue, deflates. “A…legal perspective. That sounds… different?”
“I am not one to ignore the evidence of my own eyes. The Kurain Channelling Method has been witnessed both by me in a setting where it could not be faked, as well as within a court of law. Many in the legal system would be willing to ignore these occurrences for the sake of their own petty comfort - my little brother, for example, who remains unwilling to acknowledge that which may challenge his world view. Of the other members of the legal system who could be said to be knowledgeable, we have a criminal convicted of both murder and poor taste in beverages, and that foolish defense attorney of yours, who could not string together a competent piece of legal academia if his life depended upon it. Someone rational needs to take a good look at this ability of yours within the context of legal matters, and it seems the role falls upon my shoulders.” She smiles, and it’s a carbon copy of the smirk she gives upon winning an argument in court, to the point where Maya almost expects her to curtsey. “Of course, I intend to complete my study…perfectly.”
( There is one other,) Maya thinks. “Mia could have.”
Franziska squints. “Mia…?”
“My sister could have done your study,” Maya says softly, leaning up against the wall. “I don’t know if you heard about her. She was there in the trial against Iris.”
“I wasn’t,” Franziska replies, and Maya remembers what Nick had told her, that Franziska had forgone sleep and the ability to continue as prosecutor so that she could work through the night to get the person she thought was Maya out of the cave. She had barely believed it at the time. Looking at the woman in front of her now, she thinks maybe it makes more sense. She’s always surprised to see just how young Franziska looks, close up. “I read the transcript… Mia Fey.” She pauses slightly. “Dahlia Hawthorne perceived her to be an arch nemesis.”
“She was a defense attorney. Nick’s mentor, and he learnt everything he knew from her. But she was also supposed to be the next master of Kurain, until she left.” Maya smiles slightly. “And she was great at both channeling and law.” She stares down Franziska, daring her to differ, to go on a rant about foolish defense attorneys and give Maya an excuse to kick her out of the home and tell her to never return.
“I see.” Franziska seems to be mulling over what to say, in a way uncharacteristic of their past conversations. “Her death sounds like a loss. A great loss of talent, I mean, to the world of law and of spirit channeling. It is rare to meet someone who can achieve success in multiple fields.” She turns away.
From Franziska, that’s almost a compliment. Maya thinks. Hell, from Franziska that’s almost sympathy. “What exactly is in this study of yours then?” she says.
“I intend to comport research into several key questions that have been exposed by trials involving members of the Kurain Channelling School, as well as some considerations going forward. This includes the potential of posthumous witnesses, in addition to the question of how a possessed person can or should be prosecuted and the burden of proof for anyone planning on using possession as an alibi. A brief review has shown me that there is a country where these abilities are already accepted in courts, but the current political unrest there makes its use as a comparative study problematic.”
“Huh.” Maya grimaces. “I suppose I’m a pretty good case study for that stuff.”
“Yes, as both a key witness and an expert witness, your assistance would be invaluable, should you choose to give it.” Franziska levels her with a look, and Maya realizes she was sort of asked a question.
On the one hand, she didn’t exactly feel like digging into the last few years of her life all over again. But on the other hand, hadn’t she spent enough time in courts trying just to prove that channeling was real, let alone that it was the cause for crimes? It was rare enough for someone outside the village to even believe in spirit mediums, let alone treat it with respect and as though it was important. And this was Franziska von Karma, who took everything seriously, and for the first time she seemed to be treating Maya as an equal, something that Maya had never seen her do with someone other than Edgeworth.
Then there was Mia. Mia left Kurain to try and seek out their mother. Their mother left Kurain because she was called a fraud in the courts. And now they both are gone, and Maya’s the only one left in the main line to carry on the plans they left behind. Maya’s train of thought these days comes and goes, but every station comes with a call of ‘all change’, as she finds more questions that the dead wouldn’t answer for her, even if she could summon them. What is Franziska’s offer, if not an opportunity to finally continue onwards, to do something other than go through the motions of keeping a legacy going?
“I can do it,” she says, “I’ll try my best anyway.”
Franziska nods, and her gaze flickers from Maya to the door and back again, but her scowl eases. For the first time, Maya notices her eyes, the deep, bruise-like blue gray of the sky when a storm’s incoming.
It’s been a while since Maya’s had a chance to refer to her mother’s books on omens, but she feels like she just missed several.
~
While Franziska busies herself looking over the few channeling scrolls that are in English, the evening draws in, and Maya goes to start getting some food together. In one fell swoop, Franziska von Karma has invited herself into their village and their lives, and due to the lack of hotels in Kurain that meant that in the interest of being a good host, Maya was obliged by tradition to offer her a room at Fey manor. She was somewhat surprised when Franziska accepted, but she guesses that Franziska’s irritation at having to drive may have something to do with that. It’s not as if they don’t have enough rooms, and it’s not as if Maya can’t add more rice and vegetables to the donburi she was planning to somehow pull together for dinner. She was never the greatest cook, but if she doesn’t do it Pearl does, and she’s pretty sure there’s some rule about not letting your nine-year-old cousin babysit you, even if it would be more convenient than the alternative.
At least when she goes to the city, she can poke Nick until he shells out for food, and it’s almost a relief to be free from having to do it herself for a few days. She’s still reveling in the success of finally managing to introduce Kurain village to the modern conveniences of a rice cooker and a microwave, even though hooking the two up to their ancient generator simultaneously took three days and a panicked phone call to Nick, who had put Gumshoe on the line to talk them through opening and fixing the fuse box. Maya still smiles remembering that call, how Gumshoe had offered to come up and help the villagers put in a more modern one sometime after he learnt that theirs still relies on melting wires, because “that sorta thing just isn’t safe, pal! Do you know how many fires I see?” It’s nice to know that even if her friends are still down in the city, she’s not alone up here with Pearl, even though it sometimes feels that way, just her and her cousin on one side, and the combined weight and judgment of the rest of the village on the other.
On cue as always, the door through to the courtyard at the back of the manor slides open, and Pearl comes in, looking tired but serious as always, after a day of lessons. She’s old and conscientious enough that Maya trusts her to mostly work on her own these days, especially with the textbooks that she ordered specially to replace the outdated ones Morgan had been teaching her out of (the ones that Maya and Mia had been taught out of, and Maya had felt lost once she finally left Kurain. She wanted Pearl to have better chances than that). Maya’s still hoping that by the time Pearl is supposed to be in high school that they’ll finally be able to get internet up here, so that she can do online classes. If she’s lucky, maybe some of the other teenagers in the village will even want to join in. If not, then Maya isn’t sure what she’ll do. She’s not going to force Pearl to stay in the village by limiting her education, no matter how lonely she knows she’ll feel without her cousin there to give her something to carry on working for. What’s worse, is that Pearl would let her, just for Maya’s sake, always too sweet and too accepting of the adults who are trying to serve their own selfish needs around her.
Maya could never do that to Pearl, even if it meant getting left behind by another family member.
In the present, in the familiar warmth of the small kitchen in Fey Manor, her cousin makes a beeline for the vegetables, tiny hand reaching for the knife and chopping board, and Maya flinches before she can stop herself, watching light glint off the silver as it arcs through the air.
“Pearly, what did I say about knives?”
Pearl taps a finger on her chin thoughtfully. “Health and safety?” she suggests, hopefully. “I’m just trying to help, Mystic Maya! I’m always careful!”
Maya sighs. “I know. How about I chop, and you wash?” She pulls the colander out of the cupboard and presses it firmly into Pearl's hands. She hooks a foot around the stool they use in the kitchen and kicks it over towards the sink, which Pearly still can’t quite reach without help. She pretends she’s ok.
It’s all routine at this point.
“Okay!” says Pearl, hopping up onto the stool. Maya takes a deep breath and takes hold of the knife. It’s just chopping. This knife is nearly blunt anyway, Maya won’t let Pearl sharpen them, and hasn’t done it herself in months.
Mia said once that you were more likely to hurt yourself with a blunted knife, because you have to put more force behind it. But Mia isn’t here to tell Maya off and show her how to use the grindstone, like she had all those years ago.
Maya takes the carrots as Pearl hands them over, and chops as best as she can, mindful of the fact that Franziska will undoubtedly give the food she cooked that same snooty look as she no doubt gives everything that isn’t plated with gold leaf and perfection. Maybe she should chop them into little sunflowers like Nick's badge, just to see the other woman’s lip curl up in disgust.
She pretends not to see Pearl behind her, glancing sideways with a nervous set to her chin.
If she doesn’t do this, Pearl will. And if there’s one thing Maya knows for sure, it’s that she will never force Pearl to make up for the foibles of the adults around her the way that she and Mia had to.
She chops the vegetables, and her hands shake.
“Pearly, could you put the rice on the table?” she asks.
“Oh!” Pearl’s hands spring to her mouth and Maya tries to remember the last time they sat down properly at the kotatsu and didn’t just pull up stools to the big table in the kitchen. It must have been a while ago. Pearl never complained about it before, but she’s got a smile on her face now, and she grabs the rice and bounces into the living room, before coming back to pick up the beef.
Maya smiles at her and sets her own bowl of vegetables on the table, before calling out to Franziska, who as far as she knows is still just one room over. Pearl’s brows knit together but straighten out in a second as she watches Franziska von Karma enter the room. Enter this space that belongs to them, more than the channeling chamber or the meditation room ever did.
Pearl gasps, and a little sound that’s almost a shriek comes out of her mouth as she drops the bowl she’s carrying. Broth, beef, and onion splatter all over the floor. “It’s the snobby lady!” she yells, “I told you to leave Mystic Maya alone! Go away!”
Maya gapes as Pearl attempts to stare down a woman more than twice her age. Franziska has recoiled back into the doorway and is scowling. Her gaze flicks quickly to Maya, and then back to Pearl.
“Whoa, Pearly!” Maya tries to break that unflinching glare, getting between them and crouching down, the sash on her yukata trailing slightly in the mess on the ground. “I knew that Franziska was here, ok! She’s staying so she can learn about channeling.”
“She doesn’t deserve to stay here after what she did,” Pearl says stubbornly, arms crossed. She peeks around Maya’s shoulder.
“Just because she’s arrogant and annoying doesn’t mean we can’t be nice, Pearl! She helped us at Hazakura, yeah? And when I was kidnapped.” Maya glances back, shooting Franziska a look that hopefully comes across as ‘don’t say anything’. Franziska, however, is pale, still hovering by the door, and for once looking lost for words, so Maya turns her full attention back to her cousin.
Pearl bites down on her thumb. “I still don’t forgive her. She’s horrible.”
“You don’t have to Pearly. But you don’t have to shout at her. I think you made your point.”
“Okay,” Pearl says, but her voice is wavering. She looks down at her feet, and her mouth twists into a frown. Maya follows her gaze.
“I guess no beef for us tonight.” Maya says sadly. And she had been looking forward to this all day.
Pearl bursts into tears.
“No, no, Pearl.” Maya hugs her, and then realizes she just put her knee into the damp spot on the floor. “It’s ok! We can just be vegetarian for today! We can pretend we’re on a spiritual journey!”
Pearl sniffles a bit and rubs her hand over her nose. “I don’t think you can have heated tables on spiritual journeys, Mystic Maya,” she says.
“That’s why we’re pretending!” Maya bends over and starts picking up the now inedible meat, scooping it back into a bowl. “Maybe we should get a dog, so that when we drop food, we don’t have to pick it up anymore!”
Pearl looks unconvinced, but Maya is shocked to hear Franziska’s voice from over her shoulder. She’s finally come into the room properly, approaching the table. “My foolish little brother had a dog,” she says suddenly, “he fed it treats off his plate. It was remarkably spoilt.”
“Was it a poodle?” Maya asks, because she can’t imagine Edgeworth owning anything that’s not immaculately groomed.
Franziska shakes her head. “No. It was big and smelt awful. I believe he adopted it from somewhere. It was very old already when he got it.”
(Hence the past tense.) Maya surmises. “Maybe he should get another one,” she speculates, “I think Edgeworth could use some doggy hugs.” She thinks over it. “A lot of doggy hugs actually.”
Franziska grimaces, but Pearl seems to perk up. “Mr Scruffy Detective has a dog!” she says brightly. “Do you think it has puppies? I’m sure he’d give Mr Eh-ji-worth one if he wants it! They’re really good friends!”
“I believe Miles Edgeworth travels too much at present to be looking after an animal,” Franziska says, but there’s something speculative in the tilt of her brows. “Perhaps one day, however… I’d like to see him top that as a birthday gift. He’d have to buy me a horse.”
Pearl glares at her, seeming to remember the animosity, but she sits down nevertheless when Maya gestures to the table. After a moment's awkward silence, Franziska joins her, settling down into a stiff and uncomfortable looking seiza, back straight and posture perfect.
(Where did she even learn that ?) Maya thinks, and then remembers it’s Franziska. She probably reads encyclopedias before she goes to bed each night.
Maya sits down, setting out the few small pieces of beef she managed to save, though the broth has mostly already soaked into the tatami mats. “Hope everyone enjoys our mostly vegetarian meal tonight!” she says, with a bright smile she’s really not feeling.
Pearl scowls at Franziska. Franziska scowls back, and then seems to catch herself, and redirects her gaze to where her hands are knotted together under the table.
Oh, this is going to be awkward.
Maya tries to make conversation. She really, really tries. She likes to think that she’s better than most would be at Franziska-wrangling, after all, she’s watched Nick with Edgeworth, and it’s basically the same thing, prying awkward small talk and vague insults out of someone who clearly has more thoughts bubbling away under the surface that they’d never share. Meanwhile, Pearl is moodily quiet, poking at the rice like it personally offended her.
She’ll just have to be friendly enough for both of them.
“How were lessons today, Pearly?” she asks brightly.
“…They were fine, Mystic Maya,” Pearl says sulkily, stabbing at her meal with her chopsticks but still hesitant to be rude to her cousin. Nevertheless, it’s a far less animated discussion than she usually gets out of Pearl at mealtime.
Maya tries again. “Did you learn anything new?”
“The book said I should write a report, and then my tutor should check it for grammar.” Pearl looks up at her with big eyes. “And spelling.”
“Oh, okay. I can do that.” She cannot do that. Every time she says she’s going to check Pearl’s writing, she ends up sending it to Phoenix (who she’s pretty sure sends it to Edgeworth, considering how specific the grammar notes are that she gets emailed back. Maya’s willing to bet that Nick does not know how to use a semicolon. She’s seen him doing paperwork.). Maya, after all, grew up being tutored by Morgan as well. The first time Mia had come back from the city, she’d had a shouting match with Morgan about how little her education prepared them for the outside world, and Maya never caught up at college like Mia did.
A synapse sparks somewhere in her brain (Never a good sign). “I have an idea, Pearly!” she says, “how about me and Franziska look over your report together? I’m sure she’s really good at spelling.”
Franziska is giving her a look.
Pearl is giving her a glare.
“I don’t want her to look at my writing! She’ll just say mean things. Because she’s a meanie!”
“If you allow me to read your report,” Franziska says, “I will teach you a synonym for mean, so that you don’t have to say it so often.”
“…what’s a synonym?”
Maya thinks that she can see the beginning of a bead of sweat starting at Franziska’s temple. She turns to Maya. “Maya Fey, I hope you intend to teach her these things soon?”
“She’s only nine, you can’t expect her to know everything yet!” Maya says, feeling a little defensive on Pearl's behalf. “Besides, it’s not like there’s a normal school up here.”
Franziska sniffs. “You forget, I was home-schooled too! I had a full classical education with logic, grammar, and rhetoric as its basis, and it prepared me perfectly for my career. I most certainly knew what a synonym was at her age.”
“That sounds sad,” Pearl says, stabbing her chopsticks into her bowl and crossing her arms stubbornly. “Maybe if you spent less time on grammar you wouldn’t be so…nasty. See, I don’t always have to say mean, but you always have to be horrible because you never learnt anything else!”
“That… is not the case,” Franziska spits out.
“Mystic Maya cares about me!” Pearl shrieks. “And she does what’s best, and she lets me play when I want to and doesn’t get mad like my mommy used to and she hasn’t done anything wrong. And…and if you think that… sin-nims are more important than that, then that’s just sad, and I feel sorry for you.”
“I don’t require the pity of a child!” Franziska yells, and then seems to catch herself, head snapping around to Maya. “You have seen my performance in court, surely you understand the merits of my formative years in enhancing the perfection of the Von Karma legacy.” She slams her fist down on the table, and her bowl rattles.
Poor table. Maya grimaces. “Didn’t you become a lawyer when you were thirteen?” Franziska gives a terse nod. “Didn’t you ever have time to…? I don’t know, have fun? Play? I mean, I was training to be a spirit medium when I was younger, but I still had time to go up to the lake and paddle.”
“I didn’t need to…”
“I agree with Pearl, it does sound kind of sad.” Maya meets Franziska’s glare, and doesn’t back down.
“Yeah,” Pearl agrees, “and now you’re all grown-up and want everyone else to be sad too.”
“I most certainly do not.” Franziska’s hand finds her arm and curls into that familiar grasp on her sleeve. “Your foolish logic is foolishly flawed, because I did, in fact, have other pursuits as a child, though my studies of the law were obviously prioritized.” She wags a finger, tilting her chin upwards. “For example, I competed in three-day eventing trials across Europe, and I was perfectly successful. I could have continued, had my career not got in the way.”
“Hold it!” Maya says, falling into familiar habits. For a moment, the table between them almost seems like the bench. “Our argument is that you didn’t have fun simply for the sake of fun. So, even if you liked horses, so long as you were competing, it still doesn’t count!”
“A foolish and pedantic argument, though I should not be surprised, considering your foolish employer.” She turns her head aside. “Very well. You mentioned a lake?”
“Yeah, me and Mia used to go up there when we weren’t in lessons.”
“Oh, is that the one along the road to Mount Mitama?” Pearly says, leaning forwards. “I like it there.”
Franziska smirks. “And what if I were to tell you that I have similar experiences from my childhood? I used to stay with my older sister by the Bodensee, and I would often swim early in the mornings. So, as you can see, I am perfectly capable of having fun.”
“…Okay,” Maya says, “that’s like… one thing though.”
“It doesn’t prove anything!” Pearl yells. “You’re still a big meanie.”
Franziska almost looks as though she’s been struck. “I am not a… Pearl Fey, you will take that back!”
“I won’t. You can’t make me.”
Maya takes a moment to contemplate the fact that Prosecutor Franziska von Karma, the genius successor to Manfred von Karma, and a legal prodigy, appears to be having a staring contest with Maya’s 9-year-old cousin. And losing.
“Very well,” Franziska says, tension pulling at the edges of her voice. She spins, pointing towards Maya. “Maya Fey!” she commands, “You shall take me to this lake of yours, and I will prove to the foolish pair of you that I am more than capable of having fun and… being nice.”
“…uhhh.”
Franziska doesn’t wait for Maya to answer, instead turning back to Pearl. “Is that acceptable to you, Pearl Fey?”
“I still don’t think you can do it,” Pearl says stubbornly.
“Fools rarely know how foolish they are until their tomfoolery is laid bare before their foolish selves,” Franziska says, with a smile, “but I suppose we shall see.”
“…uhhhhhh.”
“Fine.” Pearl slams down a fist onto the table (she’s clearly spent too much time in the courtroom too). “But if you’re wrong, you have to apologize to Mystic Maya and Mister Nick!”
“I will never apologize to that foolish defense attorney,” Franziska snarls.
“Then prove you can be nice!” Pearl says.
“I will!”
“Good!”
The room falls silent.
“Okayyy…” Maya says, “I guess we’re going to the lake tomorrow then.”
Franziska stands up, suddenly. “You have my gratitude for the meal, Maya Fey,” she says stiffly. “If we are to… have fun tomorrow then I have work I must complete first. I shall see the both of you in the morning.” She bows her head slightly, and then stalks off in the direction of the room that Maya offered her. She knows better than to remind Franziska which corridor it is.
Pearl stares after her. “It is sad, isn’t it Mystic Maya?”
Maya sighs. “Yeah, Pearly, but people don’t usually like it when you say that to them.”
Her cousin stares down at her bowl, and picks out a few more vegetables, before pushing her meal away. “May I leave the table please?”
“If you’re finished, yeah.” She pulls Pearl into a hug as the other girl gets up. “Don’t worry about what other people say. You’re doing great.”
Pearl bites on her thumb. “I don’t care what she says. You’re really good at looking after me.”
“Thanks, Pearly.” Maya smiles. “I don’t think she meant it as an insult. She was just…” Just what? Defending herself? Defending her father? Maya can’t imagine Franziska having much choice in her childhood, with that guy as a dad. “She was just being Franziska.”
“If she’s horrible to you again, I’ll get rid of her,” Pearl says, with a stubborn set to her chin.
Maya laughs. “I’m sure you will. But don’t worry about me.”
Pearl looks like she’s going to argue but seems to decide against it. “Goodnight, Maya.”
“Love you, Pearly.”
With a whisper of pink silk, Pearl disappears down the corridor, leaving Maya alone at the table. She takes the opportunity to put her head in her hands and scream a little.
Then she checks Franziska’s abandoned bowl for leftover beef because Maya’s many things, but she’s never been wasteful.
She could really do with some advice.
~
Maya is hesitant to leave Pearl and Franziska alone together in the manor, but it seems she has little choice. She waits until it’s late enough that they’re probably in their rooms, if not entirely asleep, and slips quietly out of the door, and keeps to the shadows as she moves towards the phone booth. The village is silent at this time of night, and the slam of the glass door closing echoes as she shuts herself in, fishing in her obi for her purse and the few pieces of change she carries. It should be enough, so long as Nick doesn’t take too long to answer the phone.
She waits, nervously bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, but after only a couple of rings she hears a click and his voice on the other end, thick with sleep and dulled by the bad connection on the line, with a sound that’s almost like waves washing in and out in the background. “Who is this?” he mutters.
“It’s your favorite ace spiritualist!” she teases, trying to sound brighter than she feels.
“Maya!” She can hear rustling, like he’s sitting up in bed. “It’s good to hear your voice. Even if it does sound like you’re talking to me through a wall.”
“Maybe your hearing is going,” she suggests, helpfully, “I’ve heard it’s a side effect of being an old man. Though I think going to sleep really early is also a sign of old age.”
“You know, I’ve seen your mid-afternoon naps on the sofa in the office.”
“I’m a growing girl! I need all the sleep I can get.” She waits until he hears the quiet chuckle on the other end. “Anyway, I didn’t just call to make fun of you.”
“You could’ve fooled me.”
“Well, you’re so easy to fool, Nick! But actually…uh…” How best to explain this?
Nick, thankfully, seems to grasp the change of mood, and his voice jumps into alertness. “Is everything alright up there with you and Pearly?”
“Well, nothing bad happened, but also Prosecutor Von Karma is here, and I’m not really sure why and also we’re going to the beach for some reason?”
“Prosecutor Von…” His voice gets quieter, like he’s turned away from the phone and she hears more rustling. “What’s she doing there?”
“She said that she wants to investigate the Kurain channeling technique.”
There’s a pause on the other end of the line.
“Nicccck!”
“Maya, not so loud, you’ll pop my eardrums. I was just trying to remember what Edgeworth said last time I called him. But I think she was out of the country until a week ago or so.”
“Did he say why she was coming back?”
“He didn’t say she was coming back at all. He only mentioned her in passing.” She can almost see the look on Phoenix’s face, that stunningly obvious process he goes through when he’s working something out, from clueless to triumphant. But when he speaks again, he sounds more like he does during investigations than he does in the moment of revelation in court. “Do you think she’s up to something?”
“I don’t know! She’s being weird. And nice. Weirdly nice. I think she tried to give me a compliment, but she isn’t very good at them. Is that her way of saying, ‘I’m trying to lower your guard so I can arrest you because you are a really foolish fool who’s foolish’?” She pauses, not just because she’s realized her German accent could definitely use some work. “Also, I think if she hangs around any longer there will be an actual crime, and it’ll be Pearl making her cry, because the idea of a scary prosecutor crying is really odd. I don’t even know when the two of them had a chance to talk to each other!”
The silence on the other end of the phone means Phoenix knows exactly what happened but is refusing to say it.
“Nick, you’re being really unhelpful right now!”
“…it’s a long story. Believe it or not, Franziska von Karma can apparently only feel shame when confronted by nine-year olds. But I don’t know if that’s enough to stop her from carrying out her vengeance.”
“Her vengeance?”
“Franziska swore vengeance on me the first time she fought me in court. But, the defendant in that case… was you, Maya. I thought that she didn’t have a grudge against you after the times she helped us out but if she does… she is a Von Karma, after all. I don’t want to think she’s capable of trying to hurt you, but I didn’t think…” He pauses, and she hears a hitch in his voice. “I’ll call Edgeworth, see if he can give me a clue as to what’s going on. Do you want me to come to Kurain?”
“I…” She pauses. When she’d first called, she had almost thought the same as Nick seemed to, that Franziska was up to something. But now she can’t help but think of how weirdly pleasant the woman’s been acting, or as much as it’s capable for a Von Karma to be pleasant, anyway. People don’t just become their parents, not unless they want to be. Maybe the other woman is… trying to be friendly? “You don’t have to come up to Kurain, Nick. I just wanted some advice.”
“Well, you know I’m always here. Can’t say my advice is any good though.”
“That’s why I always do the exact opposite of whatever you say!” Maya laughs down the phone.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. At least I know what a stepladder is.” Maya’s thankful for the subject change, even if she knows it’s a clumsy attempt at cheering her up.
“I know what a stepladder is, I just don’t see how it’s important to say “stepladder” in any particular situation. Context cues are important Nick, and that’s a whole extra syllable you’re wasting!”
Fifteen minutes later, when her coins run out and she has to hang up, she retreats back to the house, feeling lighter on her feet, and like something’s unclenched in her gut.
When she goes past the doorway to Franziska von Karma’s room, tip-toeing on the old wood floor, the prosecutor still has a light on, casting a bright beam through the crack on the edge of the sliding door.
Maya falls into bed, and drifts in a thankfully dreamless sleep.