Chapter Text
“I’m bringing someone with me,” Miles said once he managed to actually get a word in edgewise.
Despite being the one to contact her the night before the flight to Munich, Franziska had immediately commandeered the phone call. The information was important - instructions on where to go and what to expect upon touchdown - but itinerary could be (and had been) exchanged via text. He’d wanted to speak to her.
Franziska had paused, likely processing both his words and the fact she’d been cut off. “What? Why am I just now hearing of this?!” she demanded.
“I promise you won’t have to change your plans at all.”
“That is not my concern!” she sniped. “It is the fact that you had Ernest Amano send someone along with you because apparently you need a buffer to see me.”
“That’s not why-“
“It’s not?” she interrupted, unconvinced. “Tell me then, who is it this time; Scruffy, or one of those Fey girls you’ve seemed to have gotten yourself tangled up with?”
“No, it’s my…”
Miles looked over to Phoenix, sitting nearby and probably not listening to the conversation, as he pondered over which description of him would hopefully lead to the fewest follow-up questions. Feeling Miles’ eyes on him, Phoenix looked back, tilting his head curiously.
“A friend,” he settled on.
“A friend,” she repeated doubtfully.
“And to further clarify, no, I did not have him brought along as a buffer - Mr. Amano doesn’t even know he exists. Very few people do in fact, and it would mean a lot to me for you to join that list.”
“I… see,” Franziska replied. Her tone was entirely unreadable.
“I know this all sounds strange. I promise it’ll make more sense in person.”
The silence on the other end of the line stretched on into uncomfortable territory, long enough for Phoenix to shuffle his way close enough to overhear. Then… “I shall make sure to have another guest room prepared for him.”
“Thank you, Franziska, although that shouldn't be necessary,” Miles said, relieved that had gone over smoothly. He could only hope the same for the actual introduction.
Franziska made a light humming sort of noise. “This does not change the fact that you waited until the last moment to inform me.”
“Apologies. I did propose the idea to him much earlier, but he’s only just agreed to go through with it. He’s quite nervous about meeting you,” Miles said, chuckling at the panicked look Phoenix was giving him.
“Why would…” Franziska began, before clearing her throat. “Rest assured, he has nothing to fear from me.”
“Not even the whip?” Phoenix muttered.
“…what was that? Is he with you right now?” she asked.
Wing coming up to cover his beak, Phoenix took a rapid step away from the receiver.
“Yes. Would you like to speak to him?” Miles asked while Phoenix rapidly shook his head.
“No need. I will see you and your… partner tomorrow morning, Miles Edgeworth. You shall arrive at 10:25, sharp.”
“I can’t control when the plane lands, Franziska,” he began, though she had already hung up. Shaking his head fondly, he set his phone aside and turned to Phoenix. “I believe that went well.”
He let out a groan that was mostly absorbed by the wing still covering his face, before moving it to speak properly. “Is it too late to back out?”
Miles gave him a look that said ‘what do you think?’ in everything but words, then got up to triple check that things were in order for the morning.
Despite all potential variables in the way, the plane managed to land precisely when Franziska said it would. Feeling petty about this, Miles waited until he was standing in the airport proper before informing her of his arrival (‘It’s not as though she needed to know while we were just idle on the tarmac’ he justified to a confused Phoenix, who was entirely unaware of the time).
Franziska’s response was immediate, consisting of instructions on how to find her and thinly veiled threats should he keep her waiting. Deciding not to risk her ire before they’d even seen one another again, Miles gathered himself up and headed out towards the entrance.
Franziska had stationed herself nearby the entrance, looking mildly impatient. She spotted him easily, where that expression was quickly replaced by one of confusion, her eyes scanning the space around him.
“You are alone,” she noted once he was in earshot.
“Hello to you as well, Franziska,” Miles said dryly. “I take it you’ve been well.”
Last he’d seen of her, her right arm had been in a sling to limit movement while her shoulder was in post-op. She seemed fine now, with no aids in sight, though Miles lacked the medical background to know if three months was enough recovery time for a bullet wound.
(When she moved a hand to her hip to give him a disappointed look, it was her left one - which could have just as easily been coincidence.)
“Miles Edgeworth,” she simply stated.
“You’ll have to wait until we get to the house to meet him, I’m afraid,” he said in answer to the unasked question.
She huffed, turning around to mutter something that probably rhymed with ‘ghoulish mule’, then ushered him off to where the car would be waiting. It was swiftly retrieved from the valet and, after loading Miles’ belongings into the back, they were on their way to the place Franziska still called home.
Taking a break from watching the scenery pass by, Miles risked a glance in Franziska’s direction.
“How’s your shoulder been fairing?” he asked, interrupting the quiet they’d fallen into.
“Fine,” she answered. “As if a von Karma would ever let some minor injury bother her.”
I’d hate to see her definition of a major one, Phoenix commented and Miles wisely chose not to remark on how she was mostly driving one-handed.
“Then your recovery’s been going well,” he opted to say instead.
“Your foolish attempts to distract me will not work,” she said. “Do you truly intend to leave me in the dark regarding this partner of yours?”
“I’ve told you, it’ll make sense once you’ve seen him.”
“You make it sound as if you’ve invited a criminal into my home,” Franziska replied with enough of an edge to her tone to suggest it wasn’t entirely said in jest.
“No, nothing of the sort,” Miles said disarmingly. “Just… think of him as the last bit of decisive evidence.”
“For what? The existence of your social life?” Franziska grumbled.
Well, I’m not gonna help much with that,” Phoenix said.
Miles let out a sigh at the both of them. “Anyway, how has your work been?"
Franziska shot him the briefest of scowls. “It’s fine,” she said curtly, taking the bait and tossing it - as well as any other conversation - right out of the window. The awkward silence that filled its space carried on for the rest of the drive.
Franziska had charged forward the moment they’d arrived, barely giving Miles the time to catch his wits if he wanted to keep pace with her. He’d just gotten his luggage past the threshold and closed the door and already she was halfway across the foyer.
“I’ve seen to it that the second floor guest room is ready - I trust you remember where it is.”
Miles paused from adjusting the position of his suitcase’s handle, the gap between them continuing to widen. “The guest room?” he questioned.
She stopped, turning to partially face him as she rested a hand on the nearby banister. “Papa had your room converted into an additional study not long after you’d moved out.”
“I see…”
“I will give you a moment to unpack,” Franziska said, softly and carefully. “You will join me in the den when you’ve finished.” It was more a demand than a request and she moved on after giving it, leaving Miles at the bottom of the stairs.
Functionally alone in the entryway, Miles took a moment to look around the home he’d not set foot in in half a decade. The large, two-story period house was exactly the sort of place you’d imagine a man named Manfred von Karma living in and exactly as Miles remembered it.
Well, besides his room, apparently.
Miles… Phoenix whined, breaking him from his thoughts. From his position on his shoulder, Miles felt the symbiont squirm, impatient from hours of being confined to two dimensions.
Alright, alright, he said placatingly as he hoisted his bag to head up to the second level. It took a moment to remember the guest room was the second door on the left rather than the right, but Miles found it within a reasonable amount of time.
An ottoman at the foot of the bed provided the perfect spot for unloading a suitcase, while the knobs on the corners of the footboard provided the perfect perch for a restless firebird. He stretched once he’d landed, accompanied by a soundtrack of dramatized groans. Miles focused on unzipping his bag.
Done making a show of himself, Phoenix finally took a look around, letting out a low whistle. “Feels like those fancy hotels we always stay in.”
The room was furbished with vintage, but well-kept, furniture, most with ornate carvings and decorations. A large window to his side offered a gorgeous view of the distant alps while the wall behind him was mostly covered by a large landscape painting in a bronzed frame of the same range - likely so the occupant could see the mountains even when the drapery was closed.
“The von Karmas have very high-society tastes,” Miles said while removing his essentials and setting them aside.
Phoenix scoffed. “And you don’t?”
“I’m not nearly as ostentatious as you like to make me out as,” Miles said with a roll of his eyes. “My room growing up was quite modest in comparison - at least as I recall it.”
Something in his tone, or perhaps his emotions, must have betrayed him. His only warning was a soft thump before the view of the duvet before him was blocked by a pair of bright blue-brown eyes surrounded by red fluff.
Miles fruitlessly looked away, knowing how powerless he was beneath that entreating gaze.
“I’m not surprised,” he admitted, “especially knowing that I was only ever a means to an end to him, that any imprint I’d left on this house would wind up to be temporary.”
“You’re allowed to be upset about it, you know.”
“I’m not,” Miles said, turning away with an armful of clothes to be hung up in the closet. “It’s logical, if you think about it. Even if he-“ Miles cut himself off. “Well, it wasn’t as if I had any intentions of returning once I’d established myself. It would have been wasted space.”
“Miles…”
“I’m not upset,” he maintained, meaning it. “I just don’t know how I feel about it. About being here in general. I didn’t put much thought into it when Franziska and I were planning, but now that I’m under this roof again it’s…” He waved his hand vaguely, back still turned to Phoenix.
“…bringing back bad memories?” Phoenix guessed.
“The memories themselves aren’t necessarily bad,” Miles amended as he returned to his suitcase, “just tainted by hindsight.”
From the curious way Phoenix tilted his head, Miles knew he’d have to explain himself. He paused, staring forward as he collected his thoughts.
“Von Karma was not a cruel guardian - don’t give me that look. He was strict, and aloof, but never cruel. It’d… probably be easier if he had been,” Miles said, rubbing his arm. “Even now the memory of the man who took me in and taught me everything he knew conflicts with that of the monster who would have me tried for his own crimes.”
“Are you gonna be alright staying here?” Phoenix asked.
Miles gave him a wry smile. “Even if I wasn’t, who am I to deny my sister’s hospitality?”
Dissatisfied with his reply, Phoenix pouted. “You could at least talk it to her about it.”
Miles shook his head, more bemused than annoyed by Phoenix’s endless worrying at this point. “I’ll be fine. Truly. It will just take some adjustment first.”
“If you say so…”
“I do. Although, speaking of my sister, we probably shouldn’t keep her waiting. She did seem quite eager to meet you.”
Phoenix’s tune quickly changed. “Or, I mean, we could give it just a bit longer. Surely you’ve got more unpacking to do.”
With a roll of his eyes, Miles held out his arm to Phoenix. “Are you ready?”
“No,” he replied, clambering up anyway.
They found Franziska in the den just as she said she’d be, doing something on her phone.
“It is about time,” she said, obviously reacting to the sound of approaching footsteps as her eyes remained trained on the device. “You didn’t get lost, did-“
Her sentence stopped abruptly as she finally looked to see Miles and, more importantly, who was with him. They had agreed upon no theatrics this time - the specifics of what Phoenix was and what he could do could be explained later, Miles wanted to rip the ban-aid and let her see upfront just why he’d been so secretive about his companion.
There was a tense moment of silence as Franziska seemed to come to terms with what she was looking at. Phoenix shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny.
“That’s a bird,” she finally said.
With great personal effort, Miles held back every urge to tease her for stating the obvious. “Aren’t you going to introduce yourself?"
“To the bird?!” she exclaimed, causing Phoenix to flinch when she gestured at him. “Miles Edgeworth, is this who you so badly wanted me to meet? Your… your therapy animal?!”
“He’s not-“
“No, I think she has a point.”
Franziska jumped in alarm, gripped at her arm as she stared wildly at Phoenix. With a yelp, Phoenix hid himself partially behind Miles’ head.
Sighing, Miles rolled his shoulder, encouraging him back into view. “Do you understand why I wanted you to see him first now?”
“You couldn’t have given me some forewarning?!”
“What would you have had me say? ‘I’d like to introduce you to someone. By the way, he’s a sapient firebird’. You would’ve thought I was mad or messing with you.”
“I have seen you consorting with a dead woman on multiple occasions,” Franziska muttered, but the initial shock and outrage seemed to have worn off. She went back to assessing Phoenix, much to his increasing discomfort.
Sensing the lull in tensions, Miles moved his arm to force Phoenix to scoot down to the edge of the couch, closer to Franziska. He made another startled noise, looking briefly at her before turning back to Miles with pleading eyes. Miles simply gestured for him to go on.
Phoenix gave him a brief look of betrayal before he looked forward again. “Uh… hi. I’m Phoenix?” he said uncertainly.
Franziska still tensed as he spoke, despite expecting it this time. “And I am Franziska von Karma,” Probably out of habit, she gave a curtsy, “though I am sure you were already made aware of that.”
“Miles speaks very fondly of you,” he said.
Franziska frowned doubtfully at him overtop Phoenix’s head before her attention was drawn downward once more.
“You have a Magatama,” she pointed out, prompting Phoenix to look down as if he’d forgotten about it. “You were the one with Maya Fey when she was rescued, weren’t you.”
“Oh, yeah. I was,” Phoenix replied.
“Then given your connection to the Feys, you must be some kind of spirit. A familiar, perhaps?"
Miles smiled smugly at Phoenix’s shock. “I told you she’d understand.”
“That was easy enough to surmise. What I don’t understand is why he is with you.”
Taking a seat and prompting her to do the same, Miles went into the story of Phoenix’s situation as he understood it and how their partnership arose. Franziska unsurprisingly asked a number of follow up questions, pressing Miles for as much information as he could offer and cross referencing with the research she’d done on the Fey family a year prior. They finished on Phoenix’s defense on why he’d let himself be seen by the police, leading them back to where the conversation started.
Franziska nodded as they wrapped up, then, once she was certain it was over, promptly elbowed Miles in the side.
“Ow,” he said reflexively, despite it barely hurting in comparison to the whip she thankfully didn’t have nearby. “What was that for?"
“For leading me to believe you were bringing your partner!”
“I… did bring my partner?” he replied, confused.
“You did not specify! Why did you not just tell me he was your paralegal?”
“Because you would have tried to look him up and then I’d have to explain why there was no record of anyone working for me.”
Franziska grunted, which Miles took as confirmation that she would’ve done exactly that. Then, folding her arms, she turned her face away from him.
“I thought- I assumed you’d meant a romantic partner…” she said quietly, ears a tinge pink.
Phoenix suddenly looked a bit fluffier than usual, but Miles only gave her a puzzled look.
“I told you I was bringing a friend.”
Franziska pointed an accusing finger at him. “A ‘friend’ that you have kept secret from almost everyone, yet were bringing across an entire ocean just to have us meet. You even said he was nervous about it.”
“That’s because you’re scary…” Phoenix muttered, causing her to smirk just a little bit.
“It is typically not friendships that that level of secrecy is reserved for, especially given the odd company you’ve kept as of late,” she continued. “Ergo, you were dating someone and keeping it private for some reason.”
Miles thought back on their call from yesterday. “I did tell you we’d be sharing a room, didn’t I.”
“You see? My logic is, as always, flawless. You were the one withholding information.”
“In my defense, I did not think you’d believe the entire story,” Miles reminded her.
“It does sound rather unbelievable,” Franziska pointed out, “yet, it is also far too absurd for you to have made up.”
“The literal symbiont sitting in front of you doesn’t hurt either,” Miles remarked.
“Yes, well,” she began with a withering glare, “look at him!” Phoenix shrunk down as she forcefully gestured at him. “Even after acknowledging the supernatural aspect, one would not think transmogrified human!”
“Oh, I don’t know. You start to see it once you’ve been around him a while.”
“Shush, Maya Fey probably told you,” she said, to which Miles could not argue. “So, there is no way to restore him to his original form?”
“We don’t know,” Miles answered over Phoenix’s unhelpful shrug. “Mia Fey tried some things that obviously didn’t work, and I’m sure Hawthorne would sooner kill him than undo what she’s done, if she even can.”
“I’ve told him it’s fine,” Phoenix said.
“Just because you treat yourself as a lost cause, does not mean I will. So long as there are leads to exhaust, I’m going to keep investigating.” Miles then paused, expression softening. “You deserve as much.”
Whatever Phoenix said in reply was lost as he tried to scrunch down into his ruff.
“Well, perhaps my original assessment was not so off…” Franziska said with a click of her tongue.
Miles frowned at her. “What assessment?”
“If you do not know, then I won’t be repeating myself,” she told him dismissively. “Now, since this matter has finally been settled, I’m sure Mr. … Phoenix, would like a proper tour of the house.”
Phoenix snapped to attention at the sound of his name. “Oh, uh, sure. If you’re offering.”
“I would not be a perfect host if I did not make sure my guests knew their way around. Now, over this way…”
A second or two passed before Phoenix scrambled off of the furniture, realizing he was meant to follow.
Miles lingered for a moment or so to ponder over her previous remark, before letting it go to take up the rear.
Though still relatively early, Miles woke up the next day much later than he’d ever been allowed to living under von Karma’s roof. If it wasn’t his mentor and his demanding schedule, then it was Franziska demanding something of him. He was surprised she’d allowed him the extra time in bed.
Less surprising was the fact that Phoenix was nowhere to be seen. The firebird was likely off conducting his own exploration, or making use of the two-story, open floor plan to properly stretch his wings. As Miles stretched his own arms to help rouse himself, he decided to give Phoenix the extra alone time, taking a bit longer than strictly necessary in his morning routine.
After a trip to the kitchen to brew some tea and no signs of Phoenix or Franziska, Miles decided it was time to seek them out, stepping out into empty halls.
It was still strange, being back after so long because it almost didn’t feel like he was back. Just as his late mentor’s had erased Miles’ presence in the home, Franziska had seemingly washed away his. The rooms that had once been von Karma’s solely, the master bedroom and office, were now Franziska’s bedroom and a library respectively. Miles’ bedroom-turned-study was the one she worked from, claiming its smaller size to be more practical when asked about the decision.
It was there that Miles chose first to look, expectantly spotting his sister sitting at her desk from the open door. She, however, was not alone. Much like his own office, the floor to ceiling bookshelves featured a rolling ladder, upon which Phoenix was perched. The two were deep in quiet conversation, unaware they had acquired an audience, who had taken to leaning against the doorframe to watch.
Franziska gestured to something on the shelf, which Phoenix maneuvered himself to reach, pulling down a grey binder. The ladder rattled with the force of his takeoff as he then flew over to land at the edge of the desk, depositing the item in her waiting hand.
“Is it not enough you steal my detective, you have to steal my assistant as well?” Miles commented, making his presence known.
Franziska looked over with an impassive face while Phoenix sheepishly tried to duck his head down. “I see you’ve finally bothered to get up,” she said.
“As if you’ve never slept in the morning after a flight,” Miles muttered as he fully entered the room.
“After only crossing a single timezone?” Franziska tutted, wagging her finger at him. “You’ve gotten weaker that I realized.”
“You could have woken me up then, if it’s such a grave offense,” Miles said into his tea cup, acknowledging that she was teasing him.
“And I would have, had someone not insisted otherwise.”
Phoenix did an awkward little shuffle on the ladder’s rung. “I just thought Miles needed a chance to recover from the jet lag. He already doesn’t get enough sleep as is.”
Franziska looked from Phoenix to Miles, an eyebrow arched. “And you’re certain he’s not your therapy animal?”
“He does not have a therapy license of any sort.”
“I don’t have a paralegal license either, and yet here we are.”
“Yes. A situation which either of you have still yet to explain.”
“I thought he might like to make a use of himself, rather than skulking about the house like a criminal,” she stated, matter-of-factly.
“I was just trying to be quiet cause I thought everyone was still sleeping,” Phoenix clarified, squinting hard at a page that was almost assuredly written entirely in German.
“So you’re putting your guests to work now,” Miles commented, moving closer to try and read the documents. “What are you even working on?”
“If you must know,” she said, sliding things away from him, “it is one of Papa’s old cases. My colleagues requested the documents due to a connection to a case they’ve had difficulties bringing to trial, so I magnanimously offered to look into it for them.”
“You’re doing consultation work?” Miles asked.
She frowned deeply. “You do not have to sound so skeptical.”
“I’m just surprised. You don’t typically play nice with others.”
“As I recall, I offered you a rather large assist last we saw one another,” she snapped in reply.
“Ngoh…” Miles groaned, aware of the rather owlish way Phoenix was looking at them. “Yes, well… I imagine these circumstances aren’t nearly as dire.”
“There is a counterfeiting ring that we’ve known about for some time, but haven’t been able to prosecute, due to inconclusive evidence or some similar nonsense. One of the members was caught, but only because they were brought in on an unrelated manslaughter charge,” she said, gesturing to the binder that Phoenix had gone back to staring at.
“And I’m guessing the two crimes were never linked?”
“No, Papa didn’t need it to secure his verdict, though I cannot imagine he did not know. It would have been effective should the defense have needed to be throughly crushed.”
“I don’t like how casually you can just say that,” Phoenix commented.
She paid him little mind. “One would think they would also have enough to at least make an arrest, as long as they’ve been at this case, but regardless I’m sure they will find my assistance invaluable.”
“Humble as ever, I see,” Miles said.
“Mock me all you like. We shall see how you feel when we visit the Prosecutor’s Office tomorrow and everyone is singing my praises.”
“Everyone, huh?”
“What, is that so hard to believe? Perhaps I’ve been busy in your absence. It has certainly been long enough to…”
The slight edge to the last part of her reply caused a lull in their back and forth. Phoenix, sensing the shift in atmosphere, exchanged glances between the two of them.
“Why don’t I just give you two a moment,” he said, launching himself onto the floor. “Oh, by the way, earlier you said your dad had also been working with inconclusive evidence?”
“He was,” Franziska said, sounding a little off guard at the topic change, “but he’d never allow anyone to dismiss one of his cases. He had it brought to court anyway and forced a confession from the defendant day one.”
“Huh…” Phoenix put a wing to his beak. “I wonder if that’s the problem…”
“What are you foolishly muttering about?”
“It’s just, isn’t it weird that the cases only seem to fall apart just when they’re about to get a warrant? And then there’s this person, I guess they’re a detective, whose name keeps popping up. It’d be one thing if they were just on the smuggling cases, but they’re also in your dad’s files…” He trailed off, looking up to find both prosecutors staring at him. “Might be worth looking into?” he added uncertainly before skirting out of the door.
“What?” Franziska made a grab for the binder and quickly skimmed over it, then did the same to the document open on her laptop. “How?! He can’t even read these reports!”
“Remarkable, isn’t he?” Miles said smugly.
“He is… something,” she said, surreptitiously jotting down a note as Miles politely pretended not to notice.
“So why did you really bring him in here?” Miles asked once she was done. “I can’t imagine you actually needed his help.” At least not that she would admit.
“I needed to properly assess the competition, obviously. My victory will be meaningless if you’re being held back by your co-counsel.”
“I see. And what is your verdict?”
“He is acceptable,” Franziska said as if it pained her to admit. “Though I think I would go a little mad if I had him constantly chittering in my head. No wonder you are the way you are now. And to think I once blamed Maya Fey.”
“Don’t count Maya out entirely, she’s just as capable of driving me mad,” he joked before adding, more seriously. “I’m sure I would not be here now without them both. Phoenix especially has stayed by my side through the worst of it.”
“Must have been nice,” Franziska groused.
Taking a step closer, Miles gingerly placed his tea down near the edge of the desk, away from her papers. “I should have been there for you.”
She grasped at her shoulder. “It would not have changed much.”
“I should’ve been anyway,” Miles said, sighing. “At the very least, I should have contacted you after the fallout, but you were always so proud of your father, of being a von Karma. … I feared I was the last person you would’ve wanted to hear from. Never hearing anything from your end only justified that reasoning to me.”
“Fool! You were the only person I would have wanted to hear from!” she snapped, partially rising from her seat. “I never hated you for what he did, I hated you for moving on from it without me!”
Pinned under her glare, Miles did not have the words to respond, nor did she wait for any. She fell back to her seat with enough force to cause it to scoot back slightly.
“For the record, I did reach out to you - not in those first few months, but after things had begun to calm down. And, since you have always been more likely to answer your office phone over your personal number, I thought to try that first.”
“But I was already gone by then,” Miles said, working out the time frame, “after leaving my note.”
“I never believed it for a second. You obviously had lost your way and needed me to help you find it, whether you wanted me to or not. But, it turned out you didn’t need me at all, did you? You already had people looking out for you - every time I saw you, it felt like you had someone new at your side. Whereas I…” Hugging at her arms, Franziska heaved a heavy breath. “You and Papa were all I had. Perhaps that was by his design, or just a result of who he was. It hardly mattered why when you were both gone.”
Miles wanted to reach out to her, but hesitated with the closed off way she was still seated in the office chair. He settled for an “I’m sorry,” instead.
She huffed, but began to open up. “Don’t. As much as I would like to, I cannot blame you for the way he raised us. But, know this, Miles Edgeworth. If you ever shut me out again, I will hunt you down and whip you to unconsciousness!”
“Noted,” he said with a weary chuckle. “But I hope you know that should you need anything, you won’t have just me anymore.”
“Yes, I suppose you are a packaged deal now.”
“Not just him. There’s also Detective Gumshoe and I’m sure Maya as well.”
“Maya Fey?” she questioned in surprise. “But I tried to prosecute her.”
“You also helped save her,” Miles pointed out. “Besides, you two have more in common than you realize. I think it’d be worth you getting to know her better, should you have the opportunity.”
She seemed to genuinely take the suggestion into consideration before speaking again. “There is… also someone I’ve been speaking with recently…”
“Oh?”
“Do you remember Ms. Adrian Andrews?”
He instantly recognized the name. “Really?”
“She is set to be released soon. I am making sure those fools back in your country handle it properly.”
There were a number of follow up questions he could have asked regarding how this came about. He decided not to.
“That’s very kind of you.”
“Yes, well. Do not mention it. To anyone.”
Miles smiled softly, laying a gentle hand briefly on her shoulder. She shooed him off in a way that fondly reminded him of when they were kids, stating that she had work to finish before the day’s end. He collected his tea - now gone cold - and shut the door behind him.
Phoenix found him on his way back to the kitchen, landing on Miles’ shoulder and nearly causing him to spill the remaining liquid in the tea cup.
“How’d it go?” he asked.
Miles watched as the tea began to settle, offering a hint of his own reflection on the surface. “I believe we’re going to be okay.”
Though she had not pulled him as an assistant again, the sight of Franziska and Phoenix interacting became an increasingly common one. Against all expectations, they’d managed a strange camaraderie, aided both by how weirdly compatible they were (Franziska loved bossing people around and Phoenix was too used to the assertive personalities of the Feys to mind much) and the fact Franziska now had someone she could tell embarrassing stories from Miles’ younger years to who would actually appreciate them.
“Miles, you never told me you had a secret admirer!”
Miles, who had been tuning them out because no, he did not need to hear about the time he accidentally scandalized a tutor by mixing up vocabulary, blinked to attention.
They were currently driving back after a long day at the Prosecutor’s Office, with Phoenix in the back seat, forcing Miles to partially twist around if he wanted to look at him while they spoke.
“What?”
“The mystery letters!” Phoenix exclaimed, grinning expectantly at him. “I can’t believe you never tried to find out who they were from.”
Miles frowned in further confusion. “What are you talking about?”
Franziska intervened. “Do you not recall? Letters for you would come in fairly regularly when we were younger - at least every few months before they abruptly stopped. Papa obviously did not allow you to read them, it would have been a needless distraction, but I swore he at least told you.”
He wracked his brain for a moment, only to come up with nothing. “I had no idea…” Miles muttered, both disappointed (yet unsurprised) that they’d been kept from him, and confused that they were ever sent at all.
“They obviously were of little consequence,” Franziska said. In her mind, it was probably meant to be reassuring.
“I suppose not, but then why did you bring it up in the first place?”
“The fool asked if you’d had any friends here.”
“So you told him I had a secret admirer?”
“Fool! I merely told him about the letters. He came to that conclusion himself.”
Miles turned again so he could stare down Phoenix proper as he questioned his reasoning skills, but he seemed distracted. Though his eyes were trained on the space between the two front seats that Miles’ head currently occupied, they had the faraway look of someone who’s mind was somewhere else entirely.
“Phoenix,” Miles called.
“Huh?” he said, snapping out of whatever daze he was in with a shake of his head. “So, do you have any idea who it was?"
Miles let the moment pass, turning back around. “Why do you assume it was one person? It was likely just distant relatives or friends of my father trying to send their condolences. Especially since I didn’t know anyone back then.” Miles then added, with a grimace, “Besides Larry.”
“Who is Larry?” Franziska asked.
“Pray you never find out.”
“No, hold on. I think they should meet. It’d be funny- Ow! Wait, how did you do that? You’re driving!”
Franziska tucked her riding crop (She had dug the old tool out because she had enough reservations about her whip potentially doing some serious damage to Phoenix, but not enough to entirely spare him the occasional humbling) away, back from wherever she had it hidden.
Phoenix shook himself off. “Speaking of Larry though, maybe you should ask him about the letters. He probably didn’t send them, but he might know who did.”
“Why do you care so much about these letters?” Miles asked, rubbing his temple.
Phoenix looked as though he was going to give an explanation, before falling short. “I don’t know, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask.”
“Ah, but that’s where you are mistaken. For, you see, this would requiring talking to Larry, so yes, it would in fact hurt.”
When Phoenix did not respond, Miles ventured yet another glance at him and instantly regretted it. The firebird was making a face - the one Miles found he had a difficult time saying ‘no’ to.
“Fine,” he relented. “Should our paths happen to cross, Goddess of Law forbid, I will consider bringing it up.”
“Is that really all it takes to make you compliant?” Franziska questioned. “I guess you have grown weak after all.”
“It’s the empathic bond,” Miles bluffed, flushing a bit. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“I understand that he’s turned you into a sentimental fool.”
Miles scowled at the little wheezing noise Phoenix made in the back, then looked at his sister. “You haven’t heard from Ms. Andrews lately, have you?”
Though hardly comparable to her whip, Miles found that he hadn’t missed the sting of the crop at all.
Their week in Munich drew to a refreshingly uneventful close, as did the end of Miles’ study tour (Had the excursion been on his own dime, Miles might have considered extending it, but he didn’t want to take advantage of Amano’s generosity).
“Do give Ernest Amano my regards,” Franziska said upon Miles mentioning needing to thank him for the opportunity. Due to business she had to attend to later in the morning that would put her on a time crunch, Franziska would not be accompanying them to the airport. Instead, their goodbyes were being said at the house while they waited for a taxi to arrive.
“I will,” Miles said as he pretended not to notice the noise of distaste Phoenix made, presently perched on his suitcase. “This was… nice. Being able to see each other without some weight hanging over our heads."
“And I’m glad I got to properly meet you,” Phoenix said. “Even though you still terrify me.”
Franziska smirked. “Do not think yourselves rid of me so quickly. I do plan to make my way back stateside. Someone has to keep you on your toes, after all.”
“Hey, what do you think I’ve been doing this whole time? I’m not just a pretty face, you know,” Phoenix protested.
“I was referring to both of you, Mr. Phoenix,” she said, shutting him up.
Franziska received an alert that the car was at the gate, signaling their time to depart. As Franziska buzzed them in, Miles grabbed for his suitcase and Phoenix shuffled into his preferred hiding spot. When he looked back, Franziska was standing at attention, arm and hand extended towards him.
“Farewell, little brother,” she said upon him reciprocating the gesture, giving his hand a brief, but firm, shake.
Miles smiled in return. “See you later, big sister."