“I’d like to know more about how psychics work.”

“Could you… not? Ma’am?”

Alice frowned at Irene, and the red-skinned woman frowned back. They were inside the tight little room the psychic maiden called an ‘office’, and this time the psychology teacher was pushing herself to ignore the discomfort from both the small space and the woman’s nudity.

“You run the psychic evaluations. Let’s start with that.”

“Please?” Irene glanced at the book she was holding, the look on her face looked equal measure irritated and exasperated. “I really don’t have interest.”

“You have plenty of time, this village has nothing going on of importance, and I’ve got it on a good source that you can effectively hold twelve conversations at once.” Alice replied, crossing her arms.

“So I am to aid in amusing you, I take it?”

“I heard from Rick that the evaluation you gave him was basically torture. Yet the others were not.”

Irene sighed, placing the book on the table. “Miss Alice, I hate the Barons, both. But they hold the cards and, more importantly, can make life very dangerous for the people I care about. So when they gave the order to ensure Rick had an unpleasant experience, I complied.”

“I already suspected that much. I want to know what the psychic evaluation is, and why it was different for him.”

“Because the normal process involves placing the human’s mind into a highly strenuous situation, likely traumatizing, and gauge their reactions. With a use of amnesia afterwards to avoid lingering consequences.”

“You can delete memories.”

“I can delete dreams.” Irene responded with a ‘tut’. “Though relaying telepathic information is my duty, dreams are my specialty. I go into dreams, I make dreams, I let the person experience dreams, and I can make it so they don’t remember them if I so wish.” A slight shrug. “To be more specific, I make them so they don’t ‘stick’, so the memory doesn’t form.”

“Like when someone drinks too much alcohol.” Alice nodded slightly.

That startled Irene a little, the woman shifted in her seat, brows burrowing. “Exactly.” There was a slight pause, and a tilt of her head. “You’re wearing protection today.”

The teacher touched the silver bangle on her wrist. “When I told the Baroness I was going to talk to you, she gave me this, said it would make it impossible to have my mind read without my knowledge.”

“… I could attempt to push through, but it would warn your guard outside.” Irene didn’t look away from Alice’s eyes. “Is this all you needed? Or were you looking for something else from this conversation?”

“Why do you want to get rid of me?”

“I prefer the company of my books.” The psychic replied flatly, rolling her eyes. “It is not my fault you are bored, nor should I be the source of your amusement.”

“I know, it’s just… gah!” Alice’s fingers brushed through her hair. “There’s nothing to do, and so many people I’d rather meet in small measured doses.”

Irene’s brow wrinkled ever so slightly. “Someone you don’t like is occupying the Baroness’ library.”

“Pretty much. Really not looking forward to having to see that old wrinkly wind-bag’s face.” The psychology teacher deflated. “I could make it worth your time to tolerate my presence here.”

“Hardly. But I am curious as to what you might think I might be interested in.”

“Books, maybe?”

“Yet you carry none.” She made a show to look Alice up and down.

“I meant right here.” Alice tapped her forehead. “I’ve literally read thousands of books over the years, books that have never and likely will never exist in this world. Can’t a psychic hop in and help re-experience them?”

“Thousands.” Her lips curled. “A tall tale. Lesser nobles have troubles gathering that many let along reading them.”

“Only really one way to find out, isn’t there?”

There was a long pause, Irene closing her eyes and carefully pressing her fingers against her brows. She shook her head after a few seconds. “Why do you really wish to have a look at your own memories? Do you long for reliving your home, perhaps?” Her eyes opened again, red irises boring into the teacher’s skull. “You could always just order me to do these things, you do realize this, correct?”

Alice froze and grimaced. “Do you feel uncomfortable being treated like a person?”

“I have two daughters, a loving husband, a wife-sister, and no shortage of maidens that treat me ‘like a person’. I assure you I am not bereft of affection or respect.” Irene’s shoulders slumped slightly. “What I do find… amusingly vexing is that you treat me like a fellow human. There are no undertones to your words, and you behave as if ignorant of the dangers of being alone with a maiden, a psychic no less.” A slight sign of mirth came to her lips. “It is as if a child pulling on a Hound’s tail and calling it ‘fluffy’.”

Now it was Alice’s turn to frown. “I choose to believe your capacity for violence or harm is not one you decide to wield during civilized conversation.”

“A belief that you held in regard to the Baron’s actions as well.”

This time she flinched. “I… had hopes you’d be better than that.” Rubbing her shoulders, the woman lowered her head a little. “Look, I’ll be out of your…” She hesitated and sighed. “I’ll see myself out.”

“No need to rush.” Irene made a flicker of her hand, the window closing behind her with a soft click. “I was feeling rather curious over the… alcohol.” She tilted her head slightly. “I was wondering how a world without psychics found out that the brain loses the ability to form memories because of it.”

Perking up, the psychology teacher nodded. “It’s chemistry and biology. The brain’s capacity to form long-term memories gets affected if the alcohol content in the bloodstream spikes rapidly enough.”

“And how was this discovered, is my point of interest.”

“Well, depends on the study.” Alice replied. “One had people strapped to an MRI and… wait, ok, this is trickier.” She rubbed her chin. “So we created this machine that lets us see the parts of the brain that light up as they become active or inactive. So one study had people get drunk slowly, and another group to get drunk quickly, and observed the differences in how their brains behaved.” A little smile followed. “Add in questions and skill tests to them and a control group, and you’ve got yourself one of many studies into the subject. With a large enough pool of volunteers, the statistical commonalities begin to emerge.”

A slight nod in response, Irene drummed her fingers on the table as she appeared to consider something. Alice felt a little hint of nervousness, scratching her chin for a moment.

“Have you bonded Helga yet?”

“I mean, I hadn’t even…” Alice frowned slightly. “Are you reading her mind right now?”

“She keeps sending reports to me because she’s technically not ‘fully under your service yet’.” The psychic maiden put up a lofty smirk. “Why not take her?”

“It’s…” A sigh. “If there is an unfair system, and I participate in it, then am I not promoting its perpetuation? That would make me a hypocrite.”

“If you think it’s an unfair society, why not leave? Become a Wildling, go live amongst the trees and ferals.” Irene used her hand to lean against the table. “Or maybe what scares you is that accepting Helga would be a self-confirmation that you aren’t in your world anymore?”

“Are you… are you trying to psychoanalyze me?”

“Aren’t you doing the same thing to me?”

“It’s more of an unwanted habit.”

“And mine as well.” She replied simply. “But out of the two of us, you’re the one who is in an emotionally precocious situation due to perceived instability and lack of control in your life.”

“The same situation any maiden is pushed into whenever they bond someone new.”

“You could always swear your fealty and service to the Baroness. Get rid of having to decide on the bigger picture of your existence, fall into the comfort of a habit dictated by another.” Tilting her head, the maiden stood up, dusting her lap and gesturing at the door. “I think we’ve both had enough of each other for the day. Do feel free to ask Helga on the proper procedure to bond a maiden when she’s entering your service.”

With a nod, Alice stood up in turn and smiling awkwardly. “Next time should I bring sweets?”

“She doesn’t like sweets because they make her look more like a milkmaid!” Helga pipped up from outside the room, giggling.

Irene’s lips tightened slightly, though she kept a slight smile. “Boar jerky will suffice.”

“See you in two days?”

“Three.”

Nodding along, Alice stepped out of the room, hearing the door close behind her and feeling slightly refreshed. She glanced at Helga as the winged maiden stood at attention, fighting against a slight smile and bouncing on her feet. “You’ve been spying on my conversation?”

“My duties are to protect you, ma’am, not being able to hear you would be a dereliction of that.”

“Mhm.” Rolling her eyes, the teacher sighed slightly. “I’ll think over what Irene told me, but… I think I’d need to make clear some things first.”

Helga nodded, smiling brilliantly. “Of course, ma’am, the best way for a servant to do her job is to understand the needs of their protector.”

“And… that’s exactly what we’ll have to talk about.”