A teapot.
Amidst a forest teeming with all the deadly fruit slis, small animals and nesting robins that any promising adventurer needed to defeat before being deed worthy to harass lazing cats, here was a test well beyond them. And not just because holding anything as delicate as a teapot was as foreign to them as a handkerchief.
Rather … it was simply because the teapots used by Clarise were slightly changed in the process.
What she did, I had no idea.
Nobody did. And that was fine.
Because the less anybody knew, the less anybody needed to query why plus of prismatic smoke would often billow from the windows of her observatory. Sotis accompanied by a hacking cough and the sight of a princess desperately fanning said smoke away with her hands.
However, no matter what perfectly reasonable changes she made, a teapot was still a teapot.
Even the ones appropriated for deterring unscrupulous hands were still used to pour tea. And so it was that a lingering scent of high quality bergamot was still there to guide Coppelia’s nose through a forest strangely becoming more devoid of life the more we walked.
Here and there, crimson eyes, a fang or a spiky tail flashed amidst the shadows stubbornly clinging between the shafts of sunlight.
They all made themselves scarce, knowing they hadn’t reserved an appointnt to disturb as I followed behind my loyal handmaiden’s skipping steps and bright humming.
Until–
“Uwaaah~ it’s even better than I expected.”
We ca to a stop.
There it was. The culprit behind a lazing ranger and a bear snoozing on a bridge.
A perfectly ordinary teapot.
White porcelain with a smattering of blue floral motifs and gold trimmings as decoration.
Elegant, refined, fragile … and also enshrouded in a sickly miasma.
A purple haze seeped out from both its tip and its lid like steam from a hag’s cauldron.
A troubling sight. But nothing compared to the puddle it was lodged in. Although only a few steps wide, it could already be proudly classified as a swamp. Gnarled twigs, shrivelled leaves, darkened sludge and even an acid toad were all on display, waiting for the first princess to dare approach.
A sowhat unpleasant welco, yes … but nothing I couldn’t handle!
Thus, I nodded, clenched my fists in determination, then turned to my loyal handmaiden.
“Very well. You may proceed to remove the teapot.”
“Ahaha~” Coppelia flicked her wrist, her wide smile almost causing the fus to rescind. “You’re so funny sotis. Asking to remove the super cursed teapot which belongs to you. I like that.”
I pursed my lips.
“It’s not cursed … maybe.”
“It’s so cursed that I can see skulls floating around it. That’s amazing! I’ve never seen an ominous teapot so obviously sinister before, and the library definitely keeps a few.”
“Yes, well … this is rely a sign of Clarise’s overwhelming talent. She’s highly adept at pushing the boundaries of what can be made … even if it sotis results in fire … or multicoloured smoke … or multicoloured fire and normal smoke …”
“... Are you sure she’s not the Witch of Calamity?”
“C-Coppelia!? Why, my sister is as renowned for her gentleness as her inventions! That is what the bribes are for!”
“Uwaaah~ the sludge underneath the puddle is moving. I think it’s alive. If I had my maloter with , I bet it’d be exploding from all this evil.”
I blinked in confusion.
“Excuse ? What is a … maloter?”
“A maloter is a thing which asures evil. You can buy them everywhere in Ouzelia.”
My mouth widened in shock.
Not because I couldn’t believe sothing like that existed. But because I was almost regretting not staying for at least a few seconds longer just to purchase it.
“You have sothing which asures evil? … Goodness, why didn’t you tell while I was there! That sounds highly useful!”
“Nah, it’s not. You’d think sothing like that would be handy, but it’s basically always spinning. Especially in human kingdoms. It’s really only good for determining if a hero is a hero and not just their evil twin pretending to be them. If so, it’ll slow down. If I brought it here with , it’d just break after 2 seconds.”
“Well, in that case, you should have brought it with you. There’s no chance of it breaking while I’m there.”
Coppelia nodded as she was legally obliged to, before cheerfully pointing at the maybe cursed teapot.
“I an, I’m pretty sure it’d have broken before eting you. I had to go through a lot of forests like this one when looking for my missing book. How does stuff like this end up here? Do you sell cursed teapots?”
“We don’t sell cursed teapots.”
“You should. I bet you’d make loads of gold.”
“Please, Coppelia, that’s just silly,” I said as I made a note of her idea. “No gold was exchanged to soften the scene before us. This teapot was stolen, much like anything else which bears the crest of the Royal Villa outside its walls.”
“Eh? Does that happen often?”
“More than you can imagine. Our guards are prepared for unscrupulous guests in the night. Sadly, ours co in the day. Whether they be rchants or nobility, all of our visitors appear to be blessed with wandering hands in lieu of wealth or usefulness.”
“... Sooooo they take your teapots?”
“Never underestimate the wish for a new family heirloom.”
I shook my head, envying not a mont my sister was forced to contend with the worst beneath our roofs.
“Clarise has a difficult responsibility. As a genius whose mind is privy to none, she furthers the cause of the kingdom in ways only she can–including by discouraging away burglars. And to this, we’re all content to watch. From a distance. Or at least with several walls between us.”
Coppelia giggled, unperturbed by the many things she’d need to carefully learn not to touch.
Indeed, this teapot was an unexpectedly useful introduction. She’d already know what to look out for. Naly the dark essence dribbling from the tip … albeit it usually wasn’t this pronounced. Or purple.
“Okay!” Coppelia nodded with enthusiasm. “What do you want to do, then?”
“Well, that’s simple. We handle this before a tragic misunderstanding occurs. With the Royal Villa’s crest engraved on the teapot, we cannot turn a blind eye. There are new adventurers nearby. Can you imagine what utter doom they’d sohow inflict if they found it? My family would be unreasonably blad.”
“Got it! We destroy the evidence!”
I smiled, satisfied that Coppelia understood our priorities.
A mont later–I leaned down and duly picked up a stick.
“Ohohoho! … Here it is!” I said confidently. “The return of the holy stick! I shall consecrate whatever darkness has taken hold of Clarise’s teapot!”
“Ooooh~” Coppelia applauded as she stepped away. “Does this an you’re already prepared for whatever horrific thing cos out?”
“E-Excuse ? Why would sothing horrific co out? Yes, I understand it looks … unappealing, but that’s hardly a suggestion that sothing’s residing within it. Why? Do you sense any magic?”
“All I sense is evil. A lot of evil. And the last ti you poked sothing evil a revenant ca out. That was just a normal curse. This ti it’s cursed². Whatever’s hiding inside, it’s going to be awful … I can’t wait!”
I pursed my lips.
“There’s nothing to fear,” I declared. “Whatever happened to this teapot, it’s nothing my cleansing aura cannot fix … and also Starlight Grace. Besides, what’s the worst that could appear? I’ve faced down guild receptionists, muddy peasants and dancing mice.”
Indeed!
Nothing could possibly be worse. I’d already seen the face of horror. Nothing now remained.
Thus, I didn’t hesitate.
Leaving Coppelia to admire my expertise, I made my way over to the teapot in the puddle.
And then–
“Poke.”
I offered the barest graze with my holy stick … all the while leaning slightly away.
Nothing terrible happened.
On the contrary, the fus appeared to lessen. And so I allowed a smile.
It lasted until the teapot began to wobble.
Suddenly, the fus turned black. And what was a haze beca thicker. It drowned all light as it twisted and turned, flowing from the teapot like a djinn from a lamp.
A shape appeared before .
A silhouette. A figure. A face.
The details were as dim as a reflection in the bottom of a well. But even so, the features were recognisable.
I noted the harsh brows. The stern expression. The faintest wrinkles. The hair tied in an elaborate bun so neatly arranged that a seamstress could have folded a simple piece of fabric and done a poorer job.
A mont later–it was all I could do to widen my mouth in appropriate horror.
Especially over the long ruler being wielded.
Recognition dawned over who I was seeing at once.
After all, she was a frequent visitor to the Royal Villa. As well as all its nooks, crannies and windowsills as she dutifully searched out. Like a golem without sleep or rest.
Mada Anaïs Levasseur.
A lady of high society.
And also my etiquette tutor.
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