[3rd POV]
The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in dark hues.
"I see," murmured Marie, resting a finger against her chin. "So we're inside this Singularity?"
Mash nodded. "Exactly. In this era, there shouldn't be wyverns, werewolves, or a corrupted version of Jeanne d'Arc."
"Hmm… things seem more complicated than I imagined." Marie placed her hand on the trunk of a tree, raising her gaze to the sky. "It's not just France, but the entire world is in danger. Although the shape is different, at its core, we're still in a Holy Grail War, aren't we?" She lowered her head, looking at Mash, who confirmed with a small nod.
"Hah!" Amadeus let out a mocking laugh. "I knew something was off when we were summoned without a Master. Frankly, it's a delicate situation. We've got five Servants and a black dragon capable of incinerating an entire city."
"Not exactly," retorted Nobunaga, shrugging. "If there are six of them, there are eight of us, counting you three." She pointed toward the three French Servants.
"By the way, about that other Servant… I think I have an idea who that androgynous Servant was," said Marie, placing a hand on her chin, thoughtful.
"The Servant who recognized you?" asked Amadeus, with a hint of curiosity. "Definitely a French one."
"You're talking about Chevalier d'Eon," Okita interjected dryly, tilting her head slightly.
"…"
"Oh! So it was little Chevalier, though they looked quite different. I only met them as an adult, but this younger version still has some of the features I remember," said Marie, with a nostalgic smile as she recalled fragments of the past.
"The other woman with blue hair was definitely a saint," said Nobunaga, leaning back against the tree trunk. "From the look in her eyes, you could tell she still retained a good deal of sanity."
"Why do you think she's a saint?" ,.
"She was literally fighting while holding a cross and radiating the same holy aura as the maiden sitting beside you," Nobunaga replied, shrugging.
"So, a saint and a French spy. It's a start," said Marie Antoinette, swinging her legs animatedly. "And what about the other two Servants?"
"Vlad III and Elizabeth Bathory," answered Mash, remaining still so as not to wake her Master, who was sleeping against her shoulder. "They're powerful enemies, but unfortunately, we don't know much about the others."
"Knowing their names already improves our chances," said Marie, flashing a big smile. "Especially because there are eight of us against their six."
"Oh! Even so, their group seems more interesting than ours…" Before Amadeus could finish his sentence, Marie elbowed him.
"Don't talk like that," she scolded, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Okay, okay!" He raised his hands, offering a small smile. "Continuing: their group has a massive dragon. Even our heavyweight lost, didn't he?" He pointed toward Altair, who at that moment was lying in Jeanne's lap, being delicately fed by the French Servant.
Jeanne fed him carefully, brushing aside strands of hair covering his face. She was so absorbed in the task that she didn't even notice the stares directed at her. Altair, on the other hand, didn't mind at all; he was simply enjoying the moment, being pampered by a beautiful blonde woman.
Artoria, sitting beside them, let out a small, cold huff.
After finishing feeding her Master, Jeanne lifted her eyes to Artoria. "Is there a problem?" she asked, with genuine innocence, noticing the icy stare from the other Servant.
"N-nothing!" replied Artoria, caught off guard, a faint blush rising on her face, though she kept her expression cold. "I just find it curious how you're taking care of him."
Jeanne tilted her head slightly, looking rather confused, until she realized her hands were still gently caressing her Master's head. The saint quickly withdrew her hands and waved them in the air in a clumsy pantomime. "I swear it's not what it looks like!"
"Saint, whenever someone says 'it's not what it looks like,' it's exactly what it looks like," Artoria shot back, casting a glacial look at the Servant.
Meanwhile, Marie was watching the scene, resting her hands on her knees. "Fabulous! A rivalry between two Servants for a man's love. This is simply wonderful…"
Before she could continue, a hand covered her mouth, cutting her off.
"You can't just say everything that comes into your head, Marie. Have some social tact," scolded Amadeus, removing his hand from her mouth. "People will end up feeling uncomfortable." He looked at her with a gentle, almost paternal gaze, although his feelings for Marie were certainly not those of a father for a daughter.
"I get it! I get it!" Marie lifted her finger to her chin, ignoring Bathory's Servant and the French one, whose face was completely red, while the young man at the center of the whole confusion kept his eyes closed. "But…" She rose from the trunk, pointing a finger at Amadeus. "I don't want to hear that coming from you." There was a touch of indignation in her voice directed at the musician Servant.
"How come? I'm practically the patron saint of social behavior," he retorted, crossing one leg over the other with a confident air.
Marie found no words to counter that and, resigned, leaned back against the trunk again, crossing her arms over her chest. It was then that a male voice echoed through the forest.
"Not exactly," murmured Altair, still resting on Jeanne's thigh, without opening his eyes. "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, as far as I know, wasn't exactly a model of conduct. He's often described as having a childish temperament. Not to mention, during his life, he had serious money problems, and if I'm not mistaken, he was also a member of a Masonic society, wasn't he?" He turned his head, opening only one eye to stare at the great composer.
Marie broke into a triumphant grin, pointing a finger at Amadeus. "Problematic musician!"
"Hahaha!" Amadeus let out a light, elegant laugh, not the least bit fazed. "You're truly fascinating, Altair." He tilted his head slightly, resting the back of his hand under his chin. "May I ask you a question?"
"Sure, why not?" Altair sat up from Jeanne's lap, who cast a brief glance at Amadeus. His body was still a bit sore, but all his wounds had healed, and his magical energy was nearly fully restored.
"What do you think of our little Marie Antoinette?" Amadeus asked, giving Marie's head a light pat. He wanted to hear Altair's answer. It was obvious that his Marie had a special interest in that man, and he, as her devoted admirer, couldn't let his muse be disappointed, right?
"She seems quite different from how history usually portrays her," said Altair, letting out a small yawn. The urge to return to the comfort of Jeanne's lap was nearly irresistible.
"What do you mean, Altair-senpai?" asked Mash, curious, while her Master slept soundly, leaning against her shoulder.
"Marie Antoinette is always described as a noblewoman indifferent to the suffering of the poor. During France's financial crisis, her extravagant lifestyle supposedly sparked the French Revolution," he explained.
Upon hearing this, Marie remained silent, simply watching the wild-haired man, neither denying nor confirming his words.
"But…" Altair stood and walked over to her, crouching down to be at eye level. "Several historians claim that's an exaggeration, used as a pretext to execute her and accelerate the French Revolution. Honestly, I believe that version more." With a mischievous smile, he activated [Mystical Transformation – 72 Forms]. Before everyone's eyes, a second Marie appeared, identical to the original.
"Altair-senpai!?" exclaimed Mash, surprised, waking Ritsuka. Upon opening her eyes, the red-haired Master saw two Maries facing each other, blinked several times, and, without saying a word, lay back down on Mash's shoulder, convinced she was still dreaming.
"After all, how could someone so beautiful possibly be evil, right?" said Altair, maintaining a playful grin, merely trying to lighten the mood. But…
"Oh my God! Oh my God! Is that me, Amadeus?" Marie began to squirm, as if bursting with energy. "Hehehe! You really are a danger to maidens!"
Altair blinked, startled. The French Servant was staring at him with an almost dangerously intense look, and he was already about to cancel the mystical transformation—after all, it was rather strange being in another gender's body. But before he could act, he felt a pair of velvety-soft hands wrap around his neck. The sweet scent of lilies filled his senses, and moments later, soft pink lips pressed against his.
Marie, completely fired up, kissed the boy who now shared her appearance.
The sound of a deep kiss echoed through the forest, breaking the silence.
Okita, unable to understand why her Master was being kissed, tilted her head to the side, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the scene—a sentiment shared by both Jeanne and Artoria.
With the smacking sounds, Ritsuka woke up once again.
"What!?" she exclaimed, finding herself face-to-face with two Marie Antoinettes kissing. The second one was pinned to the ground while the first straddled her, running her hands over her body and entwining their legs provocatively.
For an instant, Ritsuka wondered if she was having a lesbian dream. She was straight, but seeing two French queens in that position made her question her preferences. Not that she was exactly aroused by the scene—it was more curiosity about why she'd be dreaming this. Still, she had to admit: two such beautiful women kissing was certainly pleasing to the eyes. For a brief moment, she wondered if she'd discovered a voyeur fetish.
"You perverted French queen!" Artoria stood up from the tree, grabbed the real Marie Antoinette, and tossed her aside. Amadeus caught her, smiling serenely, seemingly unfazed by seeing his muse kissing someone else. Marie, meanwhile, lifted her hand and delicately wiped the saliva from her lips.
Altair, still on the ground, was in shock, his face bright red. He could hardly believe what had just happened.
For someone who had only wanted to play a harmless prank, ending up in the middle of a "lesbian" scene—even as a man—was utterly unimaginable.
"Cough! Cough!" He cleared his throat, reverting to his original form. "That was… unexpected," he said, not seeming particularly upset about being forcibly kissed by the queen of France, though he definitely looked embarrassed, something that was quite rare for him.
"My bad," replied Marie, scratching her head with a half-embarrassed smile, though she hardly seemed repentant. "In my defense, how many times do you get the chance to kiss yourself?" She placed a hand on her chest, spreading her arms in a theatrical gesture, though a faint blush on her cheeks betrayed her confident pose.
"I guess it's fine," said Altair, patting the dust off his clothes, while Artoria pulled him aside, shooting a murderous glare at Marie Antoinette.
Meanwhile, a certain red-haired girl was watching everything, even more confused.
Wait a second… The other Marie Antoinette was Altair-kun? What's going on here?
That thought spun around in the mind of the red-haired mage.
••• ••• •••
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