Ch. 2

For once, everyone was on time at the train station. Captain Hunks even arrived to see them off, and to give some final instructions. He pulled Martis and Oreldo aside while Stecchin made her tearful farewells to Mercury.

"This is Lily's first time out in the field," Hunks muttered to the men. "I know I don't need to say this, but just watch over her, understood?"

"Yes, sir!" Martis and Oreldo said.

Oreldo quipped, "Don't worry, Dad! We'll bring her back before curfew!" He saluted dramatically.

Hunks looked surprised, then rolled his eyes and gave a wry laugh.

Alice was the last to show up, and to everyone's surprise, she wasn't alone. Stecchin's jaw dropped as Lord Lionel Taylor stepped down to assist her from the carriage. She had never seen anyone so devastatingly handsome, or so attentive. Hunks looked at Alice and had never seen her more uncomfortable. Oreldo noticed it, too. He almost made a joke to her about lending his uniform jacket, but thought better of it.

Lord Taylor was his usual suave, cheerful self.

"This Ball Masque should be great fun," he said to Alice, "plus it will give us a chance to strengthen our ties with our allies, wouldn't you say, my princess?"

"What on earth is he doing here?" Oreldo couldn't help asking. Stecchin smacked him on the back of the head, only to shriek and run away.

"Come back here, ya little twerp!" Oreldo cried, chasing after her.

Alice introduced Lord Taylor to Captain Hunks, and eventually to Stecchin.

"I…invited him to dinner last night," she explained, her tone sheepish, "and once he announced he was also invited, my father and sisters insisted we go as a couple. Oh, and then I thought he would be good cover." She shrugged. "Plus…we hardly spend any time alone."

"I see," was all Hunks could find to say.

"If you'll forgive my indiscretions, sir," she added, "we're unescorted because they thought you were going, too. I didn't correct them, because I didn't want them to worry, or for one of them to act as an escort and face any danger on my behalf."

"I think I understand, Lieutenant," Hunks said, "but it's on you when they find out the truth. I'll cover you as best I can, though."

"Thank you, sir," she replied, saluting.

Hunks sighed and watched the group gather their luggage. Each packed light except for Alice, who apologized and said she had no choice in the matter, and Lily, who, in her paranoia packed everything but the kitchen sink. He watched Alice, who seemed downright embarrassed. One might mistake the Lieutenant's nerves as pre-wedding jitters, but Hunks had the uncanny ability to read people like a book. There was definitely more to Taylor than what he presented, and Hunks had a feeling Alice knew it, too. He suspected that was part of the reason for her being so uncomfortable.

Alice did have her reasons, but not even Hunks could guess the truth. Lord Taylor had arrived early with his carriage, looking sumptuous as always. After he loaded her luggage, he paused with her at the front door. They were alone, her sisters ensuring their privacy. Alice had just shut the door behind her and turned, when Lionel leaned in for a kiss.

"Alice," he whispered. Surprised, she was too slow to stop him. He placed on hand on the door as if to block her, then cupped her chin and closed his mouth over hers.

Alice backed into the door on instinct.

"Lionel, we mustn't!" she hissed.

He shushed her. His kiss was warm and skillful. It was meant to be passionate and lusty, but Alice remained wooden in his arms.

"It's all right, my princess," he whispered. "No one will see, and if they do, well…it won't really matter, will it?"

This is…pathetic, she thought. What's wrong with me? Why can't I feel anything?

Still, she was curious enough to allow him to continue. Lionel mistook it for compliance. He smiled and kissed her temple, her cheek, and slid down to her neck.

"At last," he murmured, drawing her closer. "I can wait forever, my darling princess. Just don't deny me." He ignored her doubtful expression and instead suckled her neck before returning to her lips.

"Why do you still pursue me, my lord?" Alice asked weakly. She tried to enjoy what he was doing, she really tried…but she felt nothing. Something was missing…but she just couldn't figure out what it was.

"We are alike, you and I," he whispered. "You are my reflection."

Puzzled, she almost missed him lean in for another kiss. This time his tongue slid along hers, asking permission to enter. Instead of being aroused, she found herself disgusted.

"What are you doing?" she demanded. She reached out to slap him, but he caught her hand easily and pushed it against the door. Hard. He was genuinely disappointed. Alice looked in his eyes and shivered in spite of herself. There was nothing loving or gentle in his gaze. Rather, he looked like a hungry predator, denied of his prey.

Panting, he stared at her, angry and confused. "What's wrong? It was just a little French kiss!"

Now it was Alice's turn to be surprised. She blushed scarlet. "Is that what that means?"

Lionel's eyes widened as the realization hit him. "You…you didn't know?"

"O-of course not!" she said, flustered, "I-I've never…why would…no one in polite society would ever allow…" She trailed off and shrank against the door, wishing she was anywhere else. Lionel took a step back. A moment later, he burst out laughing. Alice scowled at him, utterly humiliated.

Oh Martis, she groaned inwardly, now I understand why…I'm so sorry.

She recalled the reaction of everyone when young Princess Septieme kissed the Sub-Lieutenant. He was teased and tormented for weeks. But Alice didn't actually see the kiss since the Princess' back was to her. Later she heard it was a French kiss, and now Lord Taylor knew the awful truth. She had no idea what a French kiss was, but was too embarrassed to ever ask anyone to explain.

Lord Taylor was still laughing, to the point where he was wiping away tears of mirth.

"I can't believe it, he said, calming down in the face of her furious chagrin. "I think I love you even more now. I have so much to teach you when we marry."

"My lord," she pleaded in a sharper tone, "please stop. We must be on our way."

"You're right, my princess," he said, still chuckling, "please forgive me."

Teach me? she thought over and over while pacing back and forth on the train, Teach me what? I know the…well, the rudimentary principles of lovemaking…but…but…

She didn't really have a chance to think it over until dinner, which she barely remembered. Upon the arrival of the train, they were met by two representatives from Rodelia. Out of kindness, Princess Septieme had sent two familiar faces: Jacques, her major domo and the mercenary Alan, the one Alice defeated in fair combat. She thought Alan might harbor some resentment toward her, but he was nothing but cordial. He even assisted Lily with her luggage, thinking she was just Hunks' attendant. When she was formally introduced to her, he bowed to her and was the perfect gentleman.

After they were all settled in and finished dinner, Alice was glad when Lord Taylor left to enjoy a drink or two with the men in the dining car.

…Mother…why couldn't you have been here to tell me? People actually enjoy that? What am I supposed to do? His eyes…there was something so…I've never seen that look except in a predator. Are all men that way when they get…excited? He didn't look like a future groom. He looked like a starving man.

I'm…not attracted to him, she realized. I'm afraid of him. Stupid! I'm a Lieutenant! I've faced situations more dangerous and frightening than this! So why…?

As her thoughts continued to swirl, she couldn't help but think of Randel Oland. He had become rather like a psychosomatic pain. It didn't hurt until she took him out of that compartment of her brain, and then pain slashed her heart anew.

She had betrayed him…she knew that now. When they were trapped in the cave, hadn't he admitted he saw her as some sort of heroine and Pumpkin Scissors as his family? Hadn't he warned her earlier that she was overzealous? Would she never learn anything?

Inevitably, she remembered the kiss Randel gave her in the hospital, right before he disappeared. She couldn't help but compare. Poor Randel…he was always so shy. Being that big would make anyone a little self-conscious, she supposed, but the Coporal seemed to have it in spades. He couldn't even bring himself to kiss her on the lips, and it wasn't that he didn't have ample opportunity. She was drugged with medicine and painkillers, aware but unable to communicate to him. Instead, he just brushed her forehead lightly as though she was spun glass.

Strange nightmares plagued her for months, consisting of him either dying or getting horribly mutilated by giant mechanical arms. And always…every single night she heard that horrific, unbearable keening sound the Chairman made, a noise borne from years of hate, rage, jealousy and suffering.

Other things from that time nagged and ate away at her. The time was there when she collapsed in the train tunnel, when he twisted his body so she wouldn't get hurt after she tried to catch him when he fell off the Duke's tank, the way had slept beside her in the cabin in Essen, never touching her but remaining close… He grabbed her so tightly when she nearly fell into the cave, and then continued to hold on long after the danger was over, his fumbling, gentle touch when he found her face in the dark, the way he often just lit up when he saw her…and that final, farewell kiss…

Was the Chairman right? Had Randel fallen in love with her?

And for all of his heroism, his kindness, she thought, tears welling up, I sent him away. I punished him.

Someone handed her a multicolored handkerchief. She mumbled her thanks without thinking and dabbed her eyes with it. A second later she gasped and looked up. At first, she thought it was a boy regarding her, but a second later she wondered how she could have made such a mistake.

The woman before her was an explosion of colors, rather patterned after the story of Harlequin, down to the deep violet mask on her face. Her reddish-gold hair was cut in a pageboy, but if you looked carefully, you'd find delicate streaks of silver as though woven by magical spiders. It was topped by a crushed velvet cap with a jaunty rooster's feather. The woman was neither beautiful nor ugly, but fell somewhere in between. She was slightly taller than Alice, but was rather plump, and had green eyes that were equally shrewd and sparkling. She wore an acoustic guitar on her back like a Japanese war standard.

The woman bowed with a flourish.

"Pardon the intrusion, my lady," she said, and Alice was astounded by the melodic, soothing voice, "but as I was passing by, I couldn't help but notice how the world had somehow fallen to rest upon your shoulders."

Alice gave a rueful smile and returned the handkerchief.

"Not at all," she said, "I thank you for your kindness, Miss…?"

"Kavindra Samantha Teague is my given name," the woman said, standing proudly, "but you may call me Kavi."

"Kavi…" Alice echoed, then her eyes widened with a mix of delight and trepidation, "Kavi, the mad minstrel from the Republic?"

"Bard, minstrel, people always get them confused," Kavi sighed with mock suffering, "I really ought to just slap a sign on my forehead, I tell you!"