"Lady Haswar, please consider this. Your late mother, Her Highness..." the messenger was soaking wet with sweat. Never have his mind imagined that the royal lady would be very hard to convince. He should have thought. It ran in the family. But such bargain—this woman should know when to stop resisting and start giving in.

Haswar twitched in disgust. Being quite experienced with politics herself, she has predicted that something like this would come up sooner or later. That early knowledge obviously didn't lessen the pain. "Silence! How dare you! I will not betray my family and my land!"

That was her last straw. Usually calm and playful, ex-princess Haswar rarely succumbed into her anger. This time, however, she ordered the man to leave her land before he could utter any single word. With extra note to ensure he wouldn't come back. Upon escorting him outside, Haswar dropped herself to the couch, gathering herself. She blinked.

Good thing she at least maintain some authority—but that's the exact reason the man came over. To make use of that piece of authority. More than a decade has passed and nothing has been a real threat. But now, she groaned, they have to emerge now?

Her fleeting thoughts reached the image of her cousin's family.

-/-/-

"What did they want, my Lady?" asked Isato, careful and subtle enough to appease her frustration. She was half annoyed to the fact that her trusty right hand man couldn't help her when it came to royal politics. Most aristocrats looked down on non-human's idea, something they have worked on for years without much fruition. Falena needed a change, a very big one, and despite how hard Arshtat and Ferid tried, the influence of the nobles was just too much.

Everyone loved Falena in their own way. Clashings of ideology on what was right for the land and what was not. At the end, it was difficult to justify who held the truth. Sometimes, she thought, she hated it. No matter in what circumstances, members of royal family would always be the sacrifice. Family, or the country? Perhaps it would be better to be born into family of peasants. Not surrounded by lavish life, not trapped in intricate bindings of political affairs, able to live a normal life.

"They offer me the throne. A planned uprising. Godwins, I suspect. Ha! As if i'm gonna play as their doll." There, again, the disgusted tone. Whether it's actually Godwin or not was up to debate, something she didn't actually want to think about, but it was a must.

So that's what she did. Calming her feelings. Trying to think straight. Godwin wouldn't be so careless. Both Marscal and his son, Gizel, were always level headed and calculating. Sending a messenger with open request to help in an uprising? The implications were too revealing to ignore. Surely they understood her loyalty towards the crown? Afterall, it was her who initiated the truce between her, Arshtat, and Sialeeds.

Barrows? Salum Barrows wasn't known for his intelligence, but he too was a cunning one. She regretted the loss of self-control before. She should've played along some more... digging out information from the man.

If they were serious, and the messenger wasn't just an attempt to stir up trouble within the royal family, then they should expect something big, and awful, to be coming on their way soon. She hated that it was her who sent the bad news, but no one else could be trusted upon...unless...

"Isato!"

It would be hard without Isato for a while, but she was needed to defend the holy ground. Should something actually happened, this would be the only safe place to run to. It was wishful thinking, but it worth it.

"Yes, Lady Haswar!"

She need not to emphasis. His eyes showing understanding.

"Go to Sol Falena as my messenger, addressed directly to the Queen! No one shall know about this, and you'll go alone."

"Understood."

-/-/-/-/

"Oh, no. Ferid, look at this!"

He ran towards his wife, clearly shocked and unstable. Her expression hardened, and for a second he thought she was going mad, surrendering to her Rune, but she did not. Instead, she handed him a parchment of some sort, a letter in cursive handwriting.

"What is it, Arshtat?"

Fiddling with her trembling fingers to take a look at the letter, faint recognization flashed to him that the handwriting belonged to Haswar. It took him off guard. Haswar rarely sent letters. As much as she loved her family, she refrained from too much personal correspondence. She officially distanced herself from the royal family. What happened to the holy ground?

"This..."

He couldn't contain his shock, pure rage showing on his face.

-/-/-/

She paced back and forth, tracing the familiar ground of Lunas and stealing glances at the underground waterfall. Nervously breathing, she called an elf nearby, who was looking at her the whole time, confused, but not brave enough to ask.

"Lady Haswar?"

Gaining her confidence, she straightened her posture and voiced her order sternly. If it's anything like what she was thinking of, then they must act promptly. "We're preparing for the purifying rite."

This, no doubt, raising more confusion. Why so hasty? No words about Sacred Games were announced, and suddenly they were preparing for the purifying rite?

"What? The princess is still 10!" squeaked her attendants. Conversation continued uncontrollably in hushed voice, hearing the tone of emergency in her voice. She raised her hands to stop the commotion.

"I know. But I think it'll be soon. The Games."

Ferid and Arshtat would set their acts soon, no doubt.

Hang on, Lym. I'm sorry. We're sorry. We're trying to change this country, so please, pray for us.

Clutching her robe, and the last left of her inner self, she trudged down to lead the preparations.

The clockwork was set into motion from both sides. All she wanted was for her family to be together. Safe and sound. Was it too much? Apparently yes, for they were of royal lineage, one who carried the burden of the land and who rise and fall together with their country.