*Thanks again to all reviewers, you have given me so much encouragement. I hope you keep enjoying the story.*

The Queen leaned back against the Map and smiled. "Good. You see it. For Albion to survive, the people need to be united, and if there is no discontent, there are no discontents." She glanced at Reaver. "What do you know of the Crawler? I know you've been to Aurora because of your Sand Furies, and I know you've been in the temple from the bird-machine in your sitting room." She paused, and faced Reaver expectantly. Reaver considered his words carefully.

"I have been to Aurora several times over many years. I have been through the Shadow Temple only once – suffice to say I had to deliver something for an old acquaintance, and the Temple path was unavoidable. The Crawler is a particularly nasty piece of work, and I wouldn't have anything to do with it if I were you. But if I am not mistaken, this invasion you mentioned is the Crawler, is it not?"

The Queen nodded solemnly "Yes, the Crawler is coming to Albion, and I don't intend for him to leave in one piece. Our mutual acquaintance Theresa informs me that I, and I quote, am the only one that can defeat the coming darkness." She sighed and opened her collar, unhooking the shoulder pieces from her bodice. "Has she always been so..."

"Stubborn?" Reaver supplied dryly, "Vague? Unhelpful? Manipulative? Yes, I believe she has been. The longest, and by far the most enjoyable conversation your mother and I ever had was me listening while she ran a tirade about the lady. Now I am usually not the most attentive of listeners, unless it's worth my while, but that rant was thoroughly entertaining. I think your mother came to me to vent her frustration because the other two would have been shocked beyond comprehension. Oh, the language she used. I don't know where she learned it, but rainbows would be put to shame by her colourful expressions."

Reaver chuckled at the recollection of one of his two fond memories of the old queen. He watched the Queen for a moment, comparing the old to the new.

The Queen had set down the elaborate collar and was tugging at the back of the bodice, a small frown of concentration furrowing her brow. Reaver smirked and stood, walking softly across the room. The Queen was so absorbed in her task that she didn't notice him come up behind her. Reaver felt a little flattered, knowing what the instincts of a Hero were, that she would let down her guard so much in his presence. Of course it was a rather dangerous move on her part, leaving herself so...vulnerable. He leaned forward and said "Allow me, my dear." The Queen started and blushed at being taken by surprise, but obligingly stood with her back towards him. Reaver ran a gloved hand down the bodice, looking for the fastenings. They were cunningly hidden under one of the seams, and he worked his way slowly from the top down, undoing the little gold hooks. "Really," he said murmured, "how do you manage with such complicated clothing. You had really much better just go without from now on." The Queen turned her head to look at him over her shoulder, and gave him a smirk in answer to his own. Reaver chuckled. "Voila!" He opened the last hook and the Queen stepped away, peeling off the bodice and placing it neatly on the chair with the collar. She gave a relieved sigh, and ran her hands down her blue silk blouse. "Oh that's much better. Thank you." She sat on the lounge, moving his hat and cane to the table adjacent, and patted the cushion next to her. Reaver obligingly sat. "So," the Queen began, "Now you know what I want you to do and why. Any problems?"

Reaver considered the woman before him for a moment, and all that he had seen of her in her life. He leaned back and said "My dear, has anyone ever told you how exceptionally unlike your mother you are?"

The Queen stared at him, eyes wide.

"Evidently not."

"Only about as often," said the Queen, "as they call me by my name."

"Ah." Reaver stood, and stepped past her to pick up his hat and cane. The Queen rose and followed him to the door. "Well, my dear, it is a fine plan to bamboozle the entirety of the kingdom into a false belief in their monarch, and I shall endeavour to meet all your expectations in my attempts to, well, tempt you." He bent and whispered two words in the Queen's ear, and then, just because he could, gave her a single thorough kiss.

The Queen stood in the doorway, unsure whether to be pleased or outraged, as Reaver strolled jauntily down the hall with a final lift of his hand and a smug "Tatty-bye!" called back over his shoulder.