~ Heine ~

As Beatrix ascends the steps, I lean against the wall in an alcove, reading the missive that one of Viktor's footmen delivered. It's characterised by a brutal attention to detail. Virtually all divisions of the armed forces are going to be involved, all surrounding the centre of Wienner, spiralling out in a radius. A spider web, a rifle sight. An epicentre.

This is bigger than I ever expected. This whole scenario is. As much as I don't want to believe it, this is bigger than me. This is empires clashing. This is downright nerve-wracking.

At the bottom of the neatly written dossier is a hand-scrawled note in the margins. I know, Heine. But I'll back you up. Me and the whole kingdom. Even if we have all the king's horses, and all the king's men, I want you on this.

I press the papers to my chest. I smirk, swallowing the emotion in my throat. It's true that Viktor is a warrior and a feared one at that, known throughout all of Europe.

But I was the one who taught him how to fight.

I slip the sheets beneath my waistcoat, letting Viktor's handwriting warm my skin. I slip out of the shadows — only to come face to face with Mrs. von Lothringen.

'We need to talk.' She stands, a rock-solid statue, with gilded portraits of her ancestors in the background. 'Beatrix is a girl. You're dragging her into fighting and soldiers and — '

I adjust my glasses, watching her through the metal frames and two fingers. Perhaps Duchess Arra has been rubbing off on me, but I would like to think I'm the last person to evaluate someone by appearance.

'You're arguing on the basis that Beatrix is a woman?' I step to her side, and we both look at the wall of portraits. 'What's wrong with that?'

'No. Beatrix has always been… an unconventional girl. But you're actively putting her in harm's way.' Her voice drops. Prying, searching. Testing. 'Isn't it a man's job to take care of these matters?'

'Perhaps. Yet why shouldn't she choose to help if she wishes?' I glance at her. She looks back. I have the feeling that she may have been the elder of the sisters. I push my glasses up. 'I understand. You're concerned for your daughter — that's only natural. If you think that she shouldn't go, then just tell her not to go. It's not as though she has to come.'

'Well-crafted words, as one would expect from a royal educator. I can't believe that I'm taking this seriously.'

'All the rest of us are. Would you care to join us?'

She does not miss my jab for an instant. Her eyes flicker to a portrait. The one of her sister.

'I suppose you think that as the military presence in the city will be strong, then she won't be in danger,' she says.

'I don't think that. There will be danger. But that's her choice, and she seems to want to do it.'

'Why are you pushing so hard for this?'

I lightly shrug my shoulders. 'I confess, I have a contrary nature. I like a challenge.'

Her skirts sweep the floor. 'Then here's a challenge for you, young man. Bring them back safely.' She tips her head. Her eyes and jewels glint. 'I want to see them live long enough to marry, you know,'

I nod, and say, 'As you wish, my lady. Although, I must confess — I'm not particularly young.'

She tips my head up with gloved fingers. Her breath is deceptively soft against my neck: a sugared puff of air that hides the metal of gleaming fangs. 'My dear, for all your talents — you know nothing of the ways of court. If someone goes to the trouble and effort of creating your lies for you… don't correct them.'

A depth of wit and intellect lies behind her charming facade. She played me like a deck of cards.

'As you wish.'

She lets me go and takes her leave. 'It seems I have been outmatched. By my stubborn daughter and a little professor.'

No. You merely satisfied yourself that you could entrust your daughter to my care.

I ascend the staircase, watching her walk away for a moment, then look up the spiralling cavity of wallpaper and portraits. While Kai may be ready for this, I need to check if Beatrix is on the same page. I walk down the corridor and take a guess at which room is Beatrix's. I rap on the door.

'Come in,' she yells.

I step in and close the door behind me. 'I apologise for the interruption, Lady Bea — '

I blink. She's wearing a daringly-cut corset, a petticoat, a horrified expression, and not much else. It takes me a moment to gather my wits.

I turn my back to her and cover my eyes for good measure. I'm expecting to die of blunt force trauma at any given moment. 'My apologies, Lady Beatrix, but you told me to come in.'

'I-I thought you were one of the maids.'

An awkward pause. 'Obviously not.'

I hear a rustle of fabric. I'm guessing that she's stepped behind a changing screen. 'Your knock sounded almost exactly the same.'

'I'm sure.' It seems to be that employees of a place and the residents thereof have differing methods of knocking. I would know, as I work at a palace.

'Let's just forget that happened,' Beatrix says wearily. I hear the swish and crumple of fabric, the frustrated clicking of fasteners. '…Look, I know this isn't the best of circumstances, but you're already here. Mind helping me with this?'

'Shouldn't I call someone… else?' I risk looking at her, my eyes strictly on her face, to see her wave a hand in refusal.

'No. If I have to speak to my mother, she'll feel the need to discuss this matter at length. So please?'

I walk over, eyes flicking over the room — the walls, the ceiling, the windows — but from the blue in the corners of my vision, I can see she's already wearing the dress.

It's beautiful. A floor-length gown, with layer after layer of tulle and silk billowing into a perfect shape, and a tiny bodice that hugs her waist and figure. She points a finger behind her back. The back of the dress is fastened with dozens of minuscule clasps, designed to give a beautiful finish.

I start fastening the clasps, working my way slowly from the small of her back upwards. The actual gown leaves the shoulder blades bare, but it's still a monumental task.

Beatrix fiddles with her hair. 'So… did you want to talk to me?'

'Yes.' I pinch and adjust the material of the bodice. The dress must have been custom-made by a master tailor. It's stunningly intricate. 'I wanted to check that you're actually all right with this.'

Beatrice exhales. I feel the movement through the close-fitting fabric. 'Yes. I wasn't just saying it. And I wasn't just rebelling because Kai was trying to tell me not to come. I want to help. I know there's risk, but… They're my family. And it's Kai. If I can help, then I want to. Is that unreasonable?'

'No. Not at all. It's not conventional, but those are two different things. And you'll make a great difference. It will be incredibly convincing to everyone watching if you and Kai follow your original plans.'

'…I know I just said that I knew there was risk, but… We're not going to die, are we?'

The sheer bravado it must be taking for her to say that. I fasten the final clasp.

'We'll be fine? In the end?'

'Yes. If anything, I've only improved on my success rate. And I didn't have the entirety of Glanzreich's armed forces at our disposal prior to this, either.'

'Good gracious.' Like myself, I doubt Beatrix was aware of the scale on which we now operate.

'Quite. His Majesty Himself is going to be overseeing the operation.' I can feel her surprise through the fabric, at the words.

I pat Beatrice on the shoulder, and she turns around, holding her hands above the cloud of blue finery.

'Thank you.' Her face flickers. 'Can I ask, however… why are you so involved in this? I thought the princes had guards.'

I cough. 'I have a… varied skill set, I guess you could say.'

'Don't we all.' Beatrice takes a seat in front of her boudoir. Perfumes and powders are scattered over the glass counter, coated in a thin layer of dust. She applies powder, perfume, lip colour, and mascara, and things I don't even recognise, hesitating between each choice. I know she doesn't see herself as being very feminine, so the layer of dust over her makeup makes sense. It's like her, too, to be self-sufficient and not need a maid to help her.

She braids and loops and compresses her hair into an up-do that neatly crowns her head, then gets up.

'Well, time for finishing touches, I guess?' she says, stepping past me.

'Do you want me to loan you a gun?'

She splutters, and has to clear her throat. 'I-I'll pass, thank you.' She takes a silver gift box from her bed, and opens it. Sparkling light seeps from the crystal jewellery. It all must be worth hundreds upon hundreds of florins.

Her eyes soften. 'A birthday present, from my father. He's away a lot on business, so he's always buying me expensive presents to make up for it.' She shakes her head, and smiles. 'I keep trying to tell him not to.'

A gallant young woman. A strong mother. An overworked, doting father. My chest tightens — because I don't want to do anything to ruin this.

Beatrice carefully fastens the earrings in place while looking in a mirror, and slides the hair ornaments into her hair.

'One moment.' I open the door and lean out. Ludwig is standing at attention outside, a little further down.

'Ludwig?'

His shoulders jerk, and he catches sight of me. 'Ah, Herr Wittgenstein?'

'Where's the prince?'

Ludwig gestures with a thumb at the door he's standing opposite to. 'Bathroom. Couldn't exactly follow him in.'

Beatrix coughs behind me. 'Ah, yes, quite,' I say. 'Can you give me that spare leg holster and pistol you've got? Don't give me that look; I can tell by the way you walk.'

Ludwig grimaces, and unbuttons his long coat, before drawing his leg up and unbuckling the straps. He tosses it to me and I catch it with one hand. 'Lovely. Thanks.'

I step back into Beatrix's room and close the door. I hold up the gun and holster. 'I imagine you know how to shoot?'

Beatrix looks slightly terrified, but she manages a comeback. 'If you have my cousins, you learn how to do everything. I even used to spar with Leonhard.'

I untangle the straps and mimic how you strap it on. 'Then you shouldn't have any problems. Strap it on underneath your dress.' It's expensive leather, it shouldn't chafe.

I place it in Beatrix's hands, and she disappears behind the changing screen. For all her casualness, she's hardly going to hike her skirt up in front of in front of a man. At least, I don't think so.

Beatrix reappears. To my surprise, she walks practically as normal. 'Isn't it too obvious? Someone's going to notice, I'm sure of it — '

'Not under those two thousand layers of fabric, they're not.'

Beatrix's lips twitch. 'I should be more put off by this, but…'

I know the feeling. It's intoxicatingly daring, being armed and dangerous. 'It's entertaining, if nothing else, no?'

Beatrix practices a few steps, then lifts the necklace from its nest of velvet and drapes it over her shoulders. The crystals shimmer on her bare skin. She fiddles with the clasp. I stand on a chair, and fasten the links. The mirror frames the two of us. 'I'm sure you'd rather hear this from Kai, but… You look lovely.'

Beatrix turns. The chair places me on the same eye level as her. 'Thank you. Care to take me up on a dance later? I want to at least make this worth your trouble,' she says, taking my fingers in a handshake.

I flinch, then explain it away as Beatrix laughs. 'That's not… You're already engaged. I shouldn't — '

'It wouldn't matter if I was married.' She laughs dryly. 'I'd still be called on to share my attentions.'

I don't think I've ever felt this uncomfortable. 'Lady Beatrix, I'm afraid you're signing yourself up for sore feet. My…' I grit my teeth. 'My… height.'

'I've danced with all my cousins and three of them are younger than me. Besides.' She offers her hand, and helps me down from the chair. This rather feels like role-reversal. 'I imagine someone with your skill set surely knows how to dance.'

I give her an unimpressed look. 'Well played, Lady Beatrix. I surrender. If circumstances permit, I would be honoured.'

She smiles, pleased with her victory.

Her hands only shake ever so slightly in her embroidered gloves. I take her hand in mine.

'Then shall we go?'

We open the door and step out. Kai and Ludwig stop talking. Kai's eyes widen. Even Ludwig raises an eyebrow slightly. They're so distracted by Beatrix's loveliness that they don't even think to notice that I was in her room while she was getting dressed.

Beatrix squeezes my hand, before letting it go and touching the crystals at her neck. 'So what are we going to be doing?' Because this is still a date, obviously, despite all the trimmings.

Kai slips a sheet of paper from his pocket. 'Well… Do you like surprises?'

Plans are written on the paper. Ones I've already seen, because Viktor's plans are based on them. Overlay one on top of the other, and they combine to become a constructed disaster on wheels.

We all look at each other. Viktor's message burns against my skin. 'Shall we be off?'

To be continued…