Sir Francis was waiting for him when he landed on the roof an hour later.

"It's almost time for your meeting with the Asturian representatives."

"Do I have time to bathe?" He'd come to the roof directly after sparring with Allen and desperately wanted a chance to wash.

The spymaster glanced at the angle of the sun and nodded. "If you hurry."

"Walk with me, " Van said, gesturing to the staircase that led into the palace.

"I have to tell you, Lord Van, that your suspicions regarding Lady Merle were correct."

"She cornered you, huh?" The corner of Van's lips twitched slightly.

Sir Francis looked vaguely embarrassed. "You could say that, yes. Anyway, I informed her of the proceedings as you directed. She believes that is all of it, although she's smart enough that she'll catch on before long. You really should speak to her about it."

Van nodded, wishing he could tell his childhood friend everything, but he knew it wasn't possible. Merle was a steadfast friend, but as his attendant she was in danger, and he wanted to keep her as safe as possible. "Promise me, Lacour, that you'll keep her safe, no matter what happens."

The tall man didn't break his stride as he stared straight ahead. "I would do so even without a promise, Lord Van, but I give you my word."

A thought entered Van's mind, and he tilted his head towards Sir Francis, considering. "What are your feelings towards Merle?"

"My feelings?"

"You're stalling." The suspicion blossomed even further.

"I think the Lady Merle is a fine woman, and a sight smarter than the others around this place. She'd make an excellent spy."

Van arched a brow and hid his amusement. "High praise, indeed."

They walked along in silence for several more minutes. Van didn't speak again until they were safely behind the closed door of his bedchamber.

"Are you in love with her?"

Sir Francis narrowed his eyes at the King. "Are you trying to trip me up, Lord Van?"

"I'm asking a sincere question, and I would like a straight answer. Merle's like a sister to me."

"The Lady Merle is a duchess. I would never presume-"

"Forget all that," Van interrupted impatiently. "You know my thoughts on all that stuff. I'm asking if you love her."

Grey eyes considered brown ones for a long minute. Behind them, the door opened as two maids prepared a bath for the King.

"Yes," Sir Francis answered simply. "I do."

"How long?" Van blurted, wondering if he was the most unobservant man alive.

"Since I came to Fanelia. Seven years," Sir Francis admitted.

"Well," replied Van, rocking back on his heels, "Well. Does she know?"

"I sincerely hope not!" came the shocked reply.

"What? Why not?" Van nodded to the maids to acknowledge that the bath was ready, and stripped off his shirt once they had closed the door behind them.

"I don't plan on trying for her, that's why. What do I have to offer a woman like her? With my work, I can't even guarantee I'll be at the dinner table two nights in a row."

"You have more to offer her than those stupid foppish men that are always trying for her. If all Merle wanted was a man at her table, she'd have married years ago. She's looking for a man she can respect, and one who respects her in return." He moved around behind the screen, unlaced his trousers and stepped out of them before lowering himself into the tub with a wince. The bath was steaming and wonderfully soothing against his sore muscles. He wouldn't admit it to Allen, but the fight had been more strenuous than anything Van had done in recent memory. He made a mental note to train harder from now on.

"What makes you think that I even have a chance?" Sir Francis shot back, agitated, as he moved restlessly around the room. His voice was muffled by the screen.

"I don't know. Maybe you don't, but shouldn't you try? I never thought you were a coward."

He ducked his head under the water, so if Sir Francis replied, he didn't hear it.

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"What do you mean, you can't read it?" Merle almost dropped the book in shock, but recovered in time to save the heavy tome from smashing onto the perfectly manicured garden lawn.

Hitomi's brow wrinkled in concern. "Apparently I can understand your spoken languages, but not the written languages. It's strange; I remember Yukari and Amano couldn't understand Van, when he first arrived on the Mystic Moon. How odd that I could, but I guess whatever the reason, it doesn't extend to books. I never thought about it before, but it's a problem, isn't it?"

Merle's tail flicked back and forth as she studied the dismayed Seer. "Yeah, I'd say. Well, there's nothing for it then. We're going to have to get you a tutor."

"I'm illiterate," Hitomi said wonderingly, trying out the words. "I'm an illiterate college graduate with no funding. I'm an illiterate widowed college graduate living on another planet, and with no funding. Oh God."

"Hitomi?" Wide eyed, Merle leaned over Hitomi, who had flopped backwards on the bench.

"I'm fine," she waved her away, "just a bit of culture shock. Give me a minute."

"We can get you a tutor," Merle repeated, worried by the manic gleam in Hitomi's eyes.

The woman from the Mystic Moon took several deep breaths, then inexplicably began to laugh wildly, her eyes wide and sides heaving.

"Shit, she's finally lost it," Merle breathed, scanning the area frantically for help. A quick glance informed her that they were alone, so she raised her voice, hoping the guards near the doors would be able to hear her. "Anyone? Help!"

Hitomi was taking big gulping breaths between the hysterical peals of laughter and tears were forming in the corners of her eyes. Merle was torn between wanting to stay with her and needing to get help. She gave one last panicked call for help, determined to make a sprint for the guards if no one came.

Thankfully, some one did. She almost sagged in relief when she saw the shock of light brown hair and the lanky form of Sir Francis running through the shrubs, one slender hand pressed against his brow to shield his eyes from the bright sun. "Lady Merle! Are you hurt?"

She gestured to her friend, whose laughter was starting to subside into sobs that shook her entire body. "She just... snapped."

He lifted the Seer into his arms as if she weighed nothing. "Is this the first time she's done it?"

Merle nodded dumbly.

"Then it's taken her long enough."

"What?"

"She should have done it a while ago. She's been holding everything in, hasn't she? If you don't bend, sooner or later you break."

She trotted along at his side, unable to match his long strides as he carried Hitomi towards her rooms. "Will she be all right?"

"I'm no healer, but she should be fine. Grief's like that, and overwhelming at times."

"I remember," she murmured, thinking back to that first year after she lost her family.

He shot her an inscrutable expression and adjusted his grip on the woman in his arms. Hitomi was sobbing against his shoulder, a wet stain spreading on the thin fabric of his shirt.

"Should I get Lord Van?"

Sir Francis shook his head. A lock of hair fell into his eyes and he impatiently swiped at it, jostling Hitomi a bit in the process. "He's in the meeting with Asturia. It's too important for him to postpone. I need to get there myself, as soon as we get the Seer to her room."

She narrowed her eyes. "What is more important to Lord Van than Hitomi?"

He stared straight ahead, his expression blank as he spoke. "War, Lady Merle, or at least the possibility of it."

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Dryden Fassa, prince consort of Asturia, placed the sheet of paper he had been studying back on the sizable stack in front of him and said, "Well Fanelia, it seems you have a strong case against Cesario, but what exactly does that have to do with Asturia?"

Van and Sir Mikael exchanged glances before the Principle Secretary spoke.. "We believe that Cesario is also planning to invade Asturia, once it has Fanelia."

"Van?" Millerna asked, seeking confirmation.

He nodded. "We have no solid proof, just speculation, but Cesario wants Fanelia for something, and we believe it can only be for our food source. Cesario is not starving."

"The only reason to need so much food is to fuel an army," Dryden said, nodding in understanding. "But why Asturia?"

"Like I said, we don't have any proof, but I believe that Cesario wants Asturia's wealth and potential. If he had it, no country on Gaea could stand up to him."

"We can't deploy our army on speculation."

"I understand. I just wanted you to be aware that there was a possibility. Have your people keep their eyes on Arnulf."

"How are your defenses, Fanelia?"

A muscle in Van's jaw visibly tightened, but he kept his voice calm. "They are poor. We have little extra money for training, and a large amount of gidaru had recently come missing from our treasury."

Dryden furrowed his brow. "Mismanagement?"

"Hardly."

Millerna leaned forward, her fingers laced together. "Asturia is prepared to offer you the use of 10,000 men, provided Fanelia signs a formal trade agreement declaring that a percentage of your export crops are sold to Asturia. How much are currently sold to us?"

Sir Mikael shuffled some papers and located the figure. "Last quarter 39 percent of the crown's export was purchased by Asturia. The figure is higher if we count the trade from private estates."

"So let's say that Fanelia agrees that 35 percent of what the crown produces will be sold to Asturia for fair-market pricing. Asturia will provide the manpower to guard the investment." Dryden sat back, pleased with his wife's plan. No one could argue against Asturia lending a hand to a nation with which they had a trade treaty.

Van let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. The proposal was infinitely fair and would be unlikely to antagonize any of the countries Asturia had alliances with. He would get much needed manpower, and Asturia, from Fanelia's borders, could keep an eye on Cesario. It also gave much-welcomed assurances that Fanelia would be able to rebuild its treasury through the sale of the crown's crops. "Fanelia accepts Asturia's terms. Roth will work with the your secretary to draw up the contracts."

The door to the room opened, and all heads swiveled to see Sir Francis slip in. Van's eyes narrowed slightly as he waited for the man to seat himself. "Explain," he said shortly.

"I apologize, Lord Van, for my lateness. As I was returning from meeting with a source, there was a situation that demanded my attention. I came as quickly as I could."

"What situation?"

Sir Francis paused. "The Seer had been overextending herself, I believe."

Van blanched, and half-rose from his chair before he remembered where he was. "Is she all right? What happened?"

"She's fine. She's sleeping, and the Lady Merle is with her."

"Poor Hitomi," Millerna murmured. "She looked fine this morning, then she ran out all of a sudden. She'd gone pale. She might have taken ill. I'll check on her when we're done here."

"Thank you, Millerna," Van said, trying to mask his anxiety. She smiled reassuringly and patted his hand.

He turned the meeting back to matters of the Crown, but his attention was divided, and he had the unsettling feeling that Millerna had seen right through him.

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Millerna placed the stethoscope back in her bag and turned to the group lining the walls of the room. Van looked so worried that she couldn't help but give him a reassuring smile. "She's fine."

Van's sigh of relief was so audible that Hitomi, sitting up in bed, her arms folded firmly across her chest, frowned.

"So I said, but no one believed me." Her pointed glare made it clear that no one meant Van.

Millerna hid a smile and threaded her arm through Merle's. "I'm famished. Let's go get some food and allow Hitomi more rest." One by one, the other occupants in the room followed her direction, filing through the doors, until only Hitomi, in the bed, and Van, still standing against the wall, remained.

He'd forgotten how fierce her temper could be. She looked so much like a petulant child that he wanted to hold her tight until she smiled again. To keep from reaching out and doing just that, he linked his fingers together in front of him and resisted the urge to step closer. He said nothing, only waited, knowing she would talk to him when she was ready.

For several minutes, she didn't speak. The bedclothes rustled as she repositioned herself, settling back against the high stack of pillows. Bird song drifted in through the open shutters, and a burst of high, girlish giggling from a couple of courtiers as they passed through the gardens by the window. She moved slightly and finally answered his unspoken question.

"I don't know what happened. Merle was showing me some book, but I couldn't read it, and I just.." She trailed off and shrugged.

"It was finally too much," he guessed, his voice neutral, as if he were commenting on the weather and not her mental health.

"Perhaps," she agreed quietly, staring down at her fingernails. They were perfectly manicured, short but neatly trimmed and filed to a gentle oval.

It seemed wrong, somehow, that her nails were so feminine. They didn't fit her personality. Those hands should be calloused and dirt-smudged, busy instead of idle, searching out and cataloging wonderful things from her world's past. The discord between what should have been and what was, as represented by Hitomi's graceful, capable hands, struck him almost painfully, even as something seemed out of place.

"You shouldn't be here," he murmured as the realization twisted his gut, and unconsciously his threaded fingers clenched tight, his knuckles turning white. "You weren't meant to be here."

"Van?" The expression of hurt and rejection in her green eyes as she puzzled over his words was almost his undoing.

"I didn't mean... It's not that I don't want you here, Hitomi. But this isn't really your home, is it?" No matter how much I may wish it, the thought tormented him.

He was the most powerful man in his kingdom. One word from him could arrange almost anything he wished. And yet, the one thing he wanted above all others wasn't in his power. The irony of it all wasn't lost on him, but he was in no mood to appreciate it.

She averted her gaze and spoke quietly. "No, I suppose it isn't."

She was staring at her hands again, those stranger's hands on Hitomi's body, and the nagging feeling returned in force. He abruptly realized, as he watched her right thumb rub her left ring finger, that the familiar glint of gold was missing.

"You've removed your wedding ring," he stated woodenly, as his mind raced backwards. She'd been wearing it this morning at breakfast, surely. Which meant...

"It was time," she replied, the tone almost belligerent as if she were daring him to argue.

She was moving on, again, without him. He kept his back straight as he walked out without another word, and only when he was finally alone, an hour later, did he allow his shoulders to sag in defeat.

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She watched him leave, his easy gait gone as he moved as stiffly as a marionette, and wondered what in the hell had happened. Did he want her to leave? She'd thought they'd gotten past all the awkwardness. And what was that bit about her having taken off Jason's ring?

The thought came unbidden, and it made her gasp out loud. Did he think that she was going to try to break up his marriage now that she was moving past her husband's death? Was that what changed his attitude towards her?

No, it couldn't be. Van's thoughts surely wouldn't run in that direction. He was her precious friend; they had a bond that transcended the ordinary, and just because she realized she was still attracted to him... that didn't mean anything. Anything at all, to either of them.

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, her bare feet meeting the smooth wood of the floor, and suddenly-

everything twisted around her and went black-

as she fell headlong into the first vision she'd had since her husband had died.

The man was thick around the waist, with bright coppery hair and a cruel face. He was studying a scroll intently when soft footsteps interrupted him.

"What do you want, girl?" he barked, hastily re-rolling the paper.

Queen Sophie walked slowly through the doorway. "Good afternoon, Lord Father. I've come to petition you for an extended stay, by two weeks. The plans are taking longer than expected, and it would be foolhardy to return to Fanelia while meetings were still to be had."

He considered the woman, then nodded once shortly. "Very well. By two weeks only, and this time, I expect to see results. Van Fanel had better be dead before the next month is out."

Sophie smiled thinly. "It will be as you wish, Father." She bowed and left the room through the same doorway she had entered.

When he was certain she was gone, Arnulf unrolled the scroll he had been reading once more, and smiled. Hitomi knew with dreaded certainty what was on that paper. It wasn't Fanelia, or Asturia, or any of the other independent countries on Gaea. The world Arnulf wanted to conquer wasn't his home.

It was Earth. The Mystic Moon. Hitomi's home.