Sure enough, the moment Arrodes showed up, it asked about Mr. Fool, and even generously offered that as its first question... I wonder whether it would leave outright if I refused on the spot, without giving me any chance to ask a question in return... Charlotte muttered silently.
Clearly, for this Sealed Artifact with living characteristics and a decidedly nasty personality, approaching that mysterious existence took far greater priority than its instinct to embarrass questioners. Its willingness to accept questions without a third party present made that clear. Thus, although Charlotte did not refuse outright, she had no intention of agreeing to introduce Arrodes to the Fool just yet. She merely answered ambiguously:
"The esteemed Mr. Fool does not permit us to reveal His honorific name to outsiders. Perhaps this means He does not wish anyone outside the gathering to know of His existence for now.
"But I believe that if you can help me complete the commission He issued and make your own contribution, He might change His mind once He discovers your value."
It's only "might," after all. I haven't promised anything on Mr. Fool's behalf... she added inwardly.
The silvery-white writing on the mirror flickered slightly, blurring and sharpening by turns, as though Arrodes, which had projected its power here, was weighing the proposal.
Could it divine that I actually forgot to mention this to Mr. Fool, then strike me dead with a bolt of lightning in this deserted washroom? What headline would Benjamin give the story? "Shocking! Baron's daughter electrocuted to death, traces of games left at scene"? A question-and-answer game is still a game, after all... Charlotte's thoughts wandered for a while, until the line of ornate Intisian words vanished from the mirror, replaced by two new passages:
"A reasonable proposal.
"In accordance with the