They say the greatest horrors lurked deep beneath the surface.

    They were wrong.

    The greatest horrors stalked the corridors of the Royal Villa. Spawning from the wine cellars, their reddened eyes gleamed from every shadow while their wrinkled fingers clawed at every gap and crevasse.

    Usually, these were just the visiting dignitaries lost on their way to the guest quarters.

    Other times, they were the stewards when word escaped that Grandmother was on her way back.

    However, no matter how loud their groaning or how pained their expressions, nothing was quite as horrifying as the sound and sight of a long ruler as it tapped at a chalkboard detailing all the reasons why remaining conscious was deemed appropriate when hosting my mandatory tea parties.

    Despite all my well placed arguments that the sight of a sleeping princess was a gift well beyond what any of the 2nd daughters and countryside baronesses who sat with me deserved to see, all I usually received from my etiquette tutor were narrowed eyes, a raised chin and a mysteriously locked door instead.

    … If she was in a merciful mood. Which she never was.

    After all, although Madame Ana?s Levasseur was famed for many things, it wasn’t her ability to alternate eyebrows in different directions which earned equal admiration and fear from all who stood in her path.

    It was her diaphragm and lung capacity.

    Putting even the Holy Church’s sermons to shame, she could monopolise time like a black hole sucked up the sun. If allowed to be caught without a window to escape through, minutes turned to hours and hours into days. I’d once seen Roland shuffling into the chamber of despair (her private study) after being caught deviously replacing Tristan’s favourite quill with a sprig of wheat.

    He eventually emerged with a stubble.

    He was only 12.

    “Uggghhhhhhhh …”

    As a result … all I could was groan as the shadow of my etiquette tutor formed.

    There was no colour in the slightly greying hair I knew. Just different shades of darkness.

    She was a haze, her silhouette flickering like smog from a cauldron. Only the crease of her brows and the lining of her frumpy gown were there as details. Of her eyes, nothing could be seen but a pair of endless pits as barren as her expression.

    “Juliette,” whispered Madame Levasseur’s cruel impression, her ruler rising like a sword of judgement as she hovered ever so slightly. “I see you’ve wandered far from home. Too far. You have erred, as you always have. And for it, you are now lost. But I shall help you find yourself again. Here under my guidance, your soul will be unchained from the throes of despair. I shall help you find peace.”

    The tangled visage spoke.

    A voice so cold that in the pause that followed, only the sound of leaves stirring in discomfort broke the silence. And for good reason. This was no mere shadow.

    It was something worse.

    “How … How awful,” I said, leaning away as the dark figure loomed. “Why … I have never before seen anything so horrifying before.”

    Coppelia nodded, her enthusiasm at odds with whatever look of morbidness I wore.

    “Mmh~ I bet that ruler could bonk you from two desks away! Is this someone you know?”

    “Indeed it is … this is the infamous Madame Ana?s Levasseur, whose sleep requirements are so few that even when I’m inspecting the kitchens in the dead of night, she will already be there, waiting beside the cheesecake stand with her ruler in hand!”

    “Wow. No wonder she looks tired. There are shadows under her eyes. And also everywhere else.”

    “Exactly.” I betrayed a gulp as I spied the wrinkles upon her forehead, forming from the strength of her bitter scowl. “… And that makes this the most shoddy impression I have ever witnessed.”

    The lifeless eyes widened in outrage.

    It only made the impression even worse.

    After all–this was a sight so inaccurate that I could only feel insulted upon Madame Levasseur’s behalf!

    My etiquette tutor would never whisper like a court advisor readying to betray my father! She was the beacon of confident but also understated disappointment! The mistress of a thousand frowns, but not a single scowl! Whenever she harangued me for something I was in no way responsible for, it never came with a muttered threat to consume my soul!

    Why, that was always something ever implied!

    “You dare speak in the trial of your judgement.”

    “I do indeed!” I pointed with my holy stick. An act I would never consider were my etiquette tutor truly before me. Especially since holy artifacts had no effect on her. I’d tried. “You … how dare you! What do you think you’re attempting to accomplish with such a slapdash impression!”

    “Petulance. Disrespect. Insolence. You invite only the claws of damnation with such crassness.”

    “Well, I certainly will if Madame Levasseur catches wind that I did anything but look aggrieved! This is not how she acts! My etiquette tutor is famed for her subtlety, her skulking and her tirades measured to slowly drain all waking thoughts from my mind! She’d find no joy in using her claws!”

    The fraud duly raised her ruler.

    Like a weapon.

    I was aghast.

    Why, that ruler was only used for tapping at the wall to remind me of the exact pace I was permitted to dash away from her! For an etiquette tutor to use anything but a large heavy book against a princess was beyond all notions of acceptability!

    “Errant child. You are in need of guidance.”

    “On the contrary, I am the finest student. Instead of practising different napping positions, I’m now fulfilling my obligations to Madame Levasseur’s dignity by removing … whatever you are. Coppelia?”

    My loyal handmaiden hummed as she leaned forwards.

    “It’s a nightmare apparition,” she said as she admired the twisted visage. “... Maybe.”

    I nodded at once, pretending not to hear the ‘maybe’.

    A nightmare apparition.

    A thing born of creaking closets and dark corners, attaching itself to any princess unfortunate enough to bring enough light into whatever teapot it now inhabited.

    A thing more frightening in thought than in motion. Because no matter what shape these cursed spectres could take, they burned before righteousness as easily as marriage correspondence in a hearth.

    “A loitering spirit, then,” I declared. “Nothing more than a passing ghost, waiting to fade into the night.”

    “Sure! Except I think this thing is more than just an apparition. I can feel its weight. Whatever was in the teapot, it was dangerous enough to give its evil actual presence. I’m pretty sure it wants to gobble you. And not just your soul.”

    Hmmmmmmmm.

    One of these days, I should suggest to Clarise to possibly use something else for her teapots. Like soap. That was just as effective in deterring thieves.

    “There is no evil in me. The blackness you feel is only the disappointment of a student gone astray.”

    “The only disappointment is mine, spirit. Because for all the length of my etiquette tutor’s sermons, what she left unsaid was always far worse than any threats she could use. And you have already spoken far too much.”

    Without hesitation, I did away with the holy stick in my hand.

    As regrettable as it was to see Clarise’s work undone, it was clear that a simple cleansing poke wasn’t enough. Wholesale exorcism was required. And that meant Starlight Grace.

    “Sssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”

    It hissed as I drew my sword.

    A flash of illumination caused the imposter to briefly recoil as the blade invited a stream of sunlight past the forest canopy. Yet whatever discomfort it experienced, I would now permanently soothe with my mercy.

    “Ohohohoho.” I gently raised a hand to my lips, barely covering my smile. “My, how very pitiable. Madame Levasseur’s skin is pale enough to deflect sunlight. But I see it consumes you instead. Were you less than a mere shade, perhaps you could have instilled a moment of admiration in me. To dare assume my etiquette tutor’s form is nothing if not brazen, after all.”

    I raised Starlight Grace, ready to offer my finest poke.

    “... Sadly, you have failed to pass even the lowest standards. And I’d truly be a poor student if I made no attempt to rectify it.”

    The creature reacted at once.

    Dispensing with the already poor visage, the apparition began to grow.

    The elegant bun unravelled, revealing strands of twisting hair like snakes fleeing from a flame. The frumpy dress bent and broke as limbs contorted, claws replacing fingers and boils replacing skin. A mockery of light appeared in the creature’s eyes, so dim that only the instincts of a thoughtless monster lay behind it.

    A caricature beyond any nightmare, eroding the sunlight and wilting the leaves around it.

    Only the ruler remained untouched.

    “Then it is time for a fresh lesson in etiquette.”

    A voice steeped in ire reverberated around me.

    It mattered little. All I heard was the sound of a bear snoozing somewhere in the distance, waiting to be woken up so that it could begin the important task of ushering away the new adventurers plaguing this forest.

    “Wait!”

    … And also Coppelia.

    Wearing a rare look of seriousness, she stepped forwards with her fists clenched against her chest.

    Then, she pointed directly at the abomination.

    “How dare you!” she said with her brows dented. “I don’t know who you’re supposed to be, but I know for a fact that Juliette Contzen, 3rd Princess to the Kingdom of Tirea, doesn’t need etiquette lessons! She’s already the best when it comes to doing princess things!”

    I gasped.

    C-Coppelia!! She … She was so honest!

    “In … Indeed! Just as my loyal handmaiden who has never uttered a falsehood says, I am a paragon of regal stature! Princesses everywhere follow my example!”

    “Yeah! No matter what she does, it’s always super princess-like! Whenever she drools while napping, it’s like seeing something as gentle as spring rain upon the meadows!”

    “Exactly! I … hm?”

    To my horror, Coppelia began counting down with her fingers.

    “She sleeps everywhere and anytime she wants because she now has a magical bed. But it’s always with unquenchable dignity. You can barely hear her snores over the sound of everyone around her doing stuff because it’s now well past midday and normal people are already thinking about finishing work! And when she does wake up, her first meal always consists of mixed chocolate and banana crêpes, hazelnut croissants or cinnamon rolls because it’s so late nobody is serving breakfast anymore! Even so, she can wipe away all the crumbs that fall on her with a single elegant sweep of her hand!”

    Hm?

    Hmmm?

    Hmmmmmm?!

    “O-Ohoho?! Coppelia, I … I believe you must be mistaken! I do not sleep well past midday or wherever I wish … and my meals are always healthy and balanced!”

    “Oh, right–there’s that as well! Sometimes a magical halfling with a cart comes along who sells things like sandwich melts covered in oil, flatbreads covered in oil and goblin moss cakes covered in oil. But despite eating them with her hands and then praising them while her mouth is still full, nobody would ever suspect that she’s anything less than a dignified princess straight from a portrait!”

    A strange croak came from my lips.

    All of a sudden, a silence fell over us as the nightmare apparition stilled … only to stare at me instead.

    “... Is this true?”

    “What?”

    “Is this true? Do you consume common fare lathered with oil from a cart? An act only less inappropriate for royalty than doing so using one’s hands?”

    “E-Excuse me! You are not my real tutor! I have no obligation to explain myself to–”

    “Is. This. True?”

    I pursed my lips … and then slowly rolled my eyes.

    “In … In the course of my royal duties … it is important that I as a princess am able to understand the needs and wants of the common people … to this end, I endeavour to ensure that I am never above the fare they place upon their tables … for it is in the sweat of their wheat and sandwich melts that I can most feel their hearts ...”

    Whack.

    A ruler struck a tree. Just as though it was a chalkboard.

    “Unacceptable. Inadmissible. How dare you disgrace your family name in such a wanton manner. You are not permitted to wander outside the walls of your bedroom only to lower the standing of your siblings, your parents and all your ancestors simultaneously.”

    “W-Why are you suddenly speaking like Madame Levasseur?! Were you not about to consume my soul?!”

    “There is nothing to consume. I will not partake in anything spoiled by such disregard for basic civility. Your taste would haunt me more than anything I could achieve.”

    “Excuse me?! I am a paragon of virtue! A pillar of both decorum and purity! If you eat my soul, all your wickedness would be burned away and you would find yourself skipping in the heavens!”

    Suddenly, Coppelia clapped her hands together.

    “Ooh, ooh, but that’s not only it! There’s also the [Ball Of Doom] as well! It’s a mfffphhhhph–”

    “Y-You may disregard my semi-loyal handmaiden!” I said as my hands mysteriously found themselves around her mouth. “She speaks only in riddles and metaphors! There is no such thing as a [Ball Of Doom]!”

    A pair of dim eyes simply stared at me.

    “What is the [Ball Of Doom] … ?”

    “The [Ball Of Doom] is amazing!” replied Coppelia, easily prying space for her smiling lips with a single fingertip. “It’s like the end of the world all squished together! But no matter how much destruction happens, she still looks as refined as a peacock feather. That’s because while she’s breaking everything, she always laughs like this … ‘ohohohohohoho’.”

    I could only gawk.

    For one thing, being described as a peacock feather was not a compliment which had ever once graced my mandatory tea parties! For another … that was a wholly inaccurate impression of my beautiful laughter!

    “C-Coppelia is exaggerating the delicate gardening technique I sometimes employ to remove caterpillars from my orchard! Rest assured, there is no destruction involved whatsoever!”

    “She’s already blown up a forest, multiple doors and walls, sent a minotaur through the sky and then catapulted a wyvern into a castle. I think the castle belongs to the Grand Duchy of Granholtz. That was hilarious. They sent a general to complain and she just spent the entire time trying to buy his sword.”

    The false etiquette tutor raised her clawed hands, covering her mouth in horror.

    “You … You … You did what … ?”

    “That was also just after eating from the magical halfling’s cart, so she probably had bits of crumbs on her.”

    All of a sudden, the clawed hands began to shake before me. As did everything else.

    Her face twisted and turned as she trembled. What was hazy and indistinct became a myriad of separate expressions, each clearly a shade of dismay fighting to settle upon the surface. Garbled words struggled to leave her lips, resulting only in a noise halfway between a whimper and a gasp.

    And no wonder.

    Indeed … here was the most powerful, forbidden ability a semi-loyal handmaiden possessed!

    [Coppelia Slander]!!

    It was all I could do to mouth like a wounded goldfish.

    It was nothing compared to the apparition. Sёarch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Whatever nightmares it instilled, it was nothing compared to what it now received.

    “–RIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.”

    Like the death throes of a banshee, it let out an ear-piercing shriek.

    Pwoomph.

    The next moment … the lifeless eyes before me vanished.

    The shadow of my etiquette tutor dispersed as easily as dust brushed aside by the sweep of a broom … only to be replaced instead with something far worse.

    With a gentle hum, a smiling clockwork doll leaned down to scoop up the powdered residue of a successfully exorcised spirit directly into her pouch.

    “Hmm hm hmm hm hmm ? … ooh, this smells high quality~”

    Beside her, a teapot lay broken, the clear fractures having split the fine porcelain as obviously as the many lines of anguish which had briefly appeared on the nightmare’s face.

    I thought for a few moments, then nodded.

    “Coppelia.”

    “Yes?”

    “When we reach the Royal Villa, it’s likely you shall encounter Madame Ana?s Levasseur in the flesh.”

    “Got it! You want me to keep quiet on the whole magical halfling and the cart of happiness thing, right?”

    Upon hearing no response, Coppelia blinked up at me.

    “... Right?”

    I looked down at the remains of the apparition.

    “Do … Do you think this could work on non-spirits too … ?”