Hey there! Sorry to keep you waiting for so long, but we kind of forgot about writing these fics for something like an entire year. If there are any subscribers still out there, here's the next chapter. (It may help to revisit the previous chapter given that it's been so long.)
This chapter is written by Koyama, except the last section in italics.
...are disclaimers even necessary on the second chapter?
Lili slipped through the crowns, fighting against the slow current. People were slowly milling about, clogging up the traffic pattern of the streets. She gritted her teeth and pressed forward, pulling her long trailing dress close to her.
"Watch where you're going, miss!" said an appalled man she had bumped shoulders with.
She flinched, dipping her head almost involuntarily. "I'm sorry!"
But he had already been swept away by the throng of people. Finally, Lili stopped to rest on an aged stone wall. It took her a moment to realize she had reached the palace. In awe, she turned around, feeling the rough, discolored stones with her delicate fingertips.
The palace walls had been aged and bloodied by countless wars and storms... particularly the recent uprising. Even with its scars, rooted deep in history, the building was still an architectural marvel—the history, Lili thought, only made it more amazing.
"You there!"
Lili turned around to see a palace guard walking swiftly her way.
"What is your business here?" asked the guard.
"I'm here as an envoy from the Hapsburg Empire, sir... I got separated from my guards in the crowd. I intend to request an audience with the king," she explained.
"An audience with the king?" echoed the guard incredulously. "For what reason?"
"That is confidential, sir. But I must speak with him. If you must, I suppose you can tell him... I... am a friend of the duchess."
"Duchess Zoe Luger?"
"Yes, sir."
The guard paused, deliberating. "Follow me, then."
Lili obediently followed him as she was taken through a beautiful labyrinth of ornate corridors and lavish rooms, each decorated with its own unique arrangement of pearls, rubies, lapis lazuli, gold leaf, and delicate wood carvings. Lili was gazing at the ceiling of the waiting room when the guard came to a halt.
"Wait here."
Lili nodded blankly in response, her eyes tracing the intricate swirls carved into the soft golden ceiling. A minute later, the guard returned. She blinked, looking back at him.
"You may enter," he said. Slowly, Lili made her way through the large doors to the throne room. The king was slouched on his throne, his blond hair falling to one side and his cheek in one palm.
"Your Majesty," Lili said, curtseying deeply.
"I prefer Feliks," he replied, repeating what he had said to the duchess only a week before. His words were slow and careful, like he was speaking in a manner he wasn't used to speaking in.
"Yes, Your—er, Feliks."
"Have I met you?" he asked, rather bluntly.
"I don't believe so," Lili said. "I'm Zwingli. Sent on behalf of Hapsburg. You may know me as the duke's sister."
The name Zwingli managed to ring a bell with Feliks. He had never heard of the girl, though.
"What are you here for?"
"His Majesty King Roderich is interested in initiating relations between Austria and Poland. Likely not any sort of large alliance, but we believe it would be advantageous for both of our countries to be on friendly, diplomatic terms," Lili explained.
She could have sworn there was a flash of a mischievoud grin on the king's face. "Advantageous, you think?" Feliks asked. "In... what sense?"
"If some sort of conflict were to occur—" she noted the gleam in his eyes, the expression that meant the gears in his brain were whirring to life, "—it would be advisable to have pre-existing support. In any other case, good relations are always desirable, are they not, Your—Feliks?"
"Of course!"
He paused a moment, then held up one hand. "Not anything official as of yet."
"I believe that is what His Majesty wishes... nothing is official at the moment, as we are also imploring relations with the Union as we speak," Lili replied.
"The Union?" the king asked, his voice turning cold. "No way."
His fingers twitched nervously, and he counted rapidly on them, waving them through the air as though conducting some twisted orchestra. "I see..."
Feliks's voice jumped slightly, but he kept himself steady.
"Tell your king," he began, hardly trying to direct his words at Lili and instead speaking toward a phantom enemy on the ceiling, "that I will consider his offer. I request, however, that he not ally with the Union as a mandatory condition of my agreement. I will not indirectly align my nation with Braginsky's. Or directly, for that matter."
"Yes, Feliks," she repeated. "I will be sure to inform His Majesty upon my return. Which may be some time from now."
"Really?"
Lili nodded once more.
"With a duchess. I believe you two have met, have you not?"
"Zoe Luger," Feliks said.
"Yes. Now, I must be going," Lili replied, giving a quick curtsey and dashing through the jewel-studded halls. Feliks furrowed his eyebrows in concentration.
"Warsaw Rule, Warsaw Rule," Elizaveta repeated over and over to herself. "Warsaw Rule. Viktor, why won't you tell me?"
The four were walking closely together, close enough that Elizaveta could whisper softly and have only Viktor hear her. He laughed.
"I'm sure we'll all find out soon enough," he replied with a grin. Elizaveta rolled her eyes. She wouldn't be asking Viktor anything for a while.
Quickly the palace of Moscow came into view. It was a beautiful palace, Elizaveta thought, with its eight drop-shaped spires, each covered in its own unique and complex, colorful pattern. They were shaped like onions, Elizaveta noted, stifling a laugh. Decorative onions.
Decorative onions on the king's home. How odd it seemed.
She blinked. What was she thinking? She was so caught up in her own thoughts about vegetables she hardly noticed that they approached the aforementioned onions and the town now loomed before them.
It would be a while before they were allowed to see the king. Fortunately, they had company.
"Yes, he's been quite stressed lately," Yekaterina was explaining.
"Why?" Elizaveta asked in mock curiosity.
"A number of things," she began, taken aback by the bluntness of the question. "For one—"
"The treaty," she guessed immediately.
"Erzovet, you... how have you already learned its contents?"
"Well," Elizaveta replied, shooting a pointed glance at Viktor, "I don't know the contents, only that it's been a source of stress for him."
"I suppose you should be informed..."
"Yes, what is Warsaw Rule?"
"Poland... will have the ability to take over Moscow under certain conditions..."
"That's why..." she breathed. "Is there anything else?"
"The rest is simple—Poland gets more influence here, borders are less strict... nothing too out of the ordinary. Really, Warsaw Rule is his only concern. The rest, I suppose, is easily manageable."
"I see..."
The door opened.
"The King will see you now."
A break.
The words were foreign to Feliciano.
A break...
Elusive, legendary, sacred words. He had almost forgotten their meaning. He would have, were it not for that little flicker of a thing called hope he had been cluthing onto for all his life.
But now that it actually came, he hadn't a single clue what to do with his time. He had been reduced to sitting nervously on a small, short stone wall. He was a nervous wreck, he knew—he wanted to do something, but without a task, he could do nothing at all.
Run! a voice in his mind shouted.
He squeezed his eyes shut.
Jump!
Feliciano shook his head vigorously.
Be free!
He opened his eyes.
Free?, he wondered. The notion was unfathomable.
"I don't know how," he murmured to himself. He sighed, trying to relieve the tension in his shoulders, his throat, everywhere. It wasn't working.
"Feliciano?" asked a voice. The weary page looked up in surprise, noticing the familiar dark-haired figure before him.
"Fratello?" he asked.
"Yeah, that's me," Lovino replied. "What are you doing out here?"
"I'm... I'm on a break," he explained.
Lovino blinked.
"You can't be serious!"
"That means you should still be working, then?"
Lovino straightened up, turning his head sharply to his destination. "I should!"
He dashed away, leaving his brother alone.
"Stop speaking so cryptically, of course I'll accept the 'consequences,'" Elizaveta said. Her tone was scornful but here relieved smile gave away her true feelings. "You've always spoken more mysteriously than you truly are."
Sadiq Anan sat up from his plush arrangement, the little prince rolling into a crack between pillows.
"And you've always been more blunt than truly necessary. What is this I hear about the Union invading?" His face turned stony and he signalled for Gupta to move Trince. The servant did so obligingly.
"They've already captured Gilbert's station."
"The invaded Kaliningrad first?" He shook his head, confused. "They must have marched from the capital; your station is more strategic—"
"—by going through Romania, I know." Elizaveta sighed, "They did. They invaded Budapest at the same time. They used something on the soldiers in Kaliningrad. And that's why I need your help."
Factual corrections about a certain Russian building are unnecessary; the details are deliberately wrong.
Reviews are much appreciated!