Saber had made themselves at home on the top bunk of the bed, and Cassandra could only roll her eyes at the words. She leaned back in her chair, looking upside down at Saber. So, they’d found her name. Not like that was hard, or hidden. “At any old store, really, I-” Cassandra started and then snapped herself straight in her chair, twisting sharply to face her door. She’d heard the door to the dorm open. Loudly. Like someone had thrown it open.
“DELACROIX!” It was certainly not pronounced right - del-a-croy instead of day-la-kwah - but it definitely her name being shouted from the living room. Cassandra popped out of her chair like she’d been hit from behind, almost tripping over herself in her haste to open the door. She was lucky it wasn’t the ancient Director, Lorelei, or Lord El-Melloi II shouting for her, but she was unlucky for who it was. Her department head was fuming in the living room. “Come out here this instant!” Cassandra winced, not wanting to open the door - but it wasn’t like she had a choice.
“Yes ma’am?” Hands clasped behind her back, Cassandra tried to make herself look as small and defenseless as possible. Sometimes it worked that people thought she was harmless and it made them easier on her - other times, such as now, the ploy failed completely.
“Don’t you ‘ma’am’ me! You explain to me right now why Lorelei has phoned me about this-this-nonsense you’ve gotten yourself into! A faculty member - one of my faculty members - was chosen and you, some little unknown whelp from France, has stolen that?!?” Clearly the memo didn’t quite make it to the fuming woman in the room that her faculty member was a cowardly man who would rather stay alive than figure out what to do. “Lorelei has also informed me that my opinion doesn’t matter, but I am furious, young lady, do you understand?!” In one flailing hand was clutched a packet of papers, and in the other was whatever scrap had been used to summon Saber. The item was tossed at Cassandra first, and the smaller woman caught it from the air without ever taking her eyes - now cold from the scolding - off of her department head.
“He approached me about it, Professor. He told me that he had a family and he could not risk his life on some wild goose chase. He has studied the Wars you know, and he did not like his odds. He told me I could do this, or I could fail. He told me to tell no one. Well, looks like you and The Queen found out anyway.” Cassandra turned the item in her hand one way, then the other, fidgeting a little now that she had something to fidget with. “If your opinion fails to matter, Professor, then why are you here?” Cassandra folded her arms over her chest, pressing the bit of wood into her side.
“Because Lorelei has told me to give you these papers and send you on your way. You won’t get anything done here at Clock Tower.” Narrowed eyes met Cassandra’s gaze, though the girl wasn’t backing down from this argument. Now the head of the department sighed. “Here, you leave in three days.” The packet, like the bit of wood, was tossed at Cassandra with undue force. Cassandra didn’t catch it so much as fumble it, dropping the packet and scattering papers between the couch and chair.
“Cas, is that still your music?” Called one of her roommates through the door. Cassandra’s eye twitched as she knelt to collect the papers, under more berating for her stupid actions and not talking to an adult and taking matters into her own hands.
The sound of a door being snapped open caught the knight unawares. Her helm lifted in the direction the sound originated, green eyes wide and full of alarm beneath the heavy visor. Steel fingers gripped against mattress in anticipation. Was it simply another student bent on anger entering the dormitory? Or was it something more?
Something like an answer announced itself loud and clear with the summon of a single “DELACROIX”. Mordred was quick to deliver an uncertain glance in her Master’s direction as she made haste for the bedroom door. And, upon a whim, she dissolved herself in a glitter of icy sparks, manifesting now as an unseen spirit in hot pursuit to witness what troubles her French maiden tangled herself in.
Mordred was unsure of what she was anticipating, but the scene that unfolded before her was not to her expectations. All of it pulled her lips into a deep frown as she observed the scene full of sharp words.
Her previous Master was brought up. That skink of a man who shuddered at the thought of entering a war by her side. The knight of rebellion remembered the scene clearly: the professor who wished to have a word with Cassandra Delacroix after class which brought about the girl’s newfound fate. He trembled as he transferred his command seals to her hand, subsequently tying down Mordred to another she felt unworthy to be her ally.
She would have left the conversation at that with how severe a mood drop she felt by the remarks when she spotted that a piece of rubble wood tossed into the air, only to be caught deftly by the cold-eyed Cassandra. Fury bubbled within her chest at the sight of such a piece so disrespectfully handled.
Just as the elder woman tossed a packet of unknown contents in her Master’s direction, Mordred suddenly appeared; her gauntlet flew forward first, grabbing onto the shoulder of the professor and shoving her with impressive strength against the stone wall of the dorm. Clarent materialized second within the palm of her right hand. With one motion, she pressed the length of the blade against her neck with green eyes aflame with rage. The helm she previously wore had long began disassembled; the parts that made the fierce helm now set into the armor as pieces of adornment.
❝ You SNAKE of a woman, ❞ Mordred hissed out with loathing. ❝ Look me in the eye if you dare. Do you have any IDEA who I am? If I see you disrespect my seat at that cursed Round Table again, know that I, Mordred, heir of the King of Knights, will personally slit your throat and let your blood drain out like the pig you are. ❞
