"And who are you?" Grandma Clothilde's gaze moved from Zoë's torso up to her hair and back, disapproval speaking from every crevice of her lined face.

"I'm Zoë, Grandma," outwardly patient, she handed the old woman her spoon. "I'm your granddaughter. But never mind, you ignored me all your life, which suits me perfectly well."

"What stupidity spills forth from your ugly face! They should never have let women join the military," the old woman dipped the spoon into the thick green pea soup, and lifted it towards her mouth with a strongly trembling hand. Long before it could reach its destination, she had spilled all but a few meager droplets though. With an indignant huff, she let the spoon drop to the floor.

Zoë sighed. She already regretted her choice to sit next to the old dragon. It was too much work to get the dowager to say a single sensible thing and remain polite at the same time.

"It is a disgrace," the old woman muttered. "Women donning uniforms? They look frivolous with their legs and asses on display! And then they're surprised when they get raped!"

"If women get raped it's not because they put on uniforms, Grandma," Zoë took the new spoon a footman was discreetly holding out to her with a nod of thanks and put it back into the old woman's hand. "It's because some men are violent jerks, whether in the military or not."

"You harlot!" Grandma Clothilde spit into her soup.

"Goodness, how nasty you are," Zoë muttered under her breath. Almost as if the hate inside her father's mother had become even more concentrated after she had shriveled up like a raisin.

The blue eyes turned to her, a shrewd expression in them. "You think so?" Then, as if triggered by this non-compliment: "Where is Elior?" Grandma frowned around the table, sitting a little straighter as her eyes roamed over the assembled party.

"Eating with the guards," Zoë said, coming on alert too. Finally, a chance to get some information! "About Elior…"

"I saw how you looked at him, you one-eyed slut," her Grandma hissed, her face contorted by sudden fury. "But if you think you can take him from me, you're mistaken!"

"Hm?" Now really. Enough was enough. "Take him from you? I don't have to do that, we're already married!"

Grandma jerked back in shock, blood draining from her face, leaving it paper white.

"Elior is… married?" she choked out. "He… he never said so!"

"Yes, we're married. It's been years. He's the perfect husband, so attentive and loving!" Zoë gushed. "And very good in bed."

"You're lying!" The old woman hit the table with her hands, making plates and glasses jump. "Elior only has eyes for me! He promised we would run away together!"

"Is everything alright, Zoë darling?" Her mother called from the other end of the table, looking worried.

"Yes, yes, no problem," Zoë smiled reassuringly at everyone sitting up there. The many candles in the large chandeliers painted the whole dinner party in a warm, friendly light, with crystal glasses flashing and silverware sparkling on the snow white table cloth. Apparently, a royal visitor had to be stuffed to the point of bursting - her mother had mentioned seven courses. What a farce it all was! Clearly, the nobility had learned nothing from their mistakes. They just continued their wasteful existence in exile without even an attempt to rethink their behavior.

Catching Zoë's eye, Queen Historia briefly let her distress show. She was seated between Freddie and Council Hange, wearing a pained smile on her lips while trying to keep up a polite conversation. Playing the haughty royal was clearly exhausting her. Besides, they still did not know what part the Hanges had played in the recent attempt to kidnap her, so naturally, Historia was feeling extra vulnerable, despite Zoë's earlier reassurances that they would protect her. Zoë was confident her handful of Scouts could be victorious against her father's guards, however well trained they were. Levi was worth at least twenty of them after all and the thought of Eren transforming into a Titan and reducing this big, expensive house to a mere pile of rubble was strangely pleasing. However… How did the proverb go? "Pride goeth before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall". She would not make the mistake of underestimating someone as shrewd and ruthless as Council Hange.

"So," Zoë turned to her grandma again who was still angrily muttering to herself about lying bitches in uniform, "he promised to run away with you? What will your father say to that?"

"Pah!" a wave of an aristocratic hand full of expensive jewelry. "He will not notice until it is too late!"

"But where will you live?"

"Outside," Grandma Clothilde smiled a wicked smile. "Free."

Now that was interesting. Zoë felt rather impressed that Grandma Hange was ready to commit outright treason for this strange mirage of an Ackerman: The Fritz-Reiss family had never allowed anyone to leave the Walls, not even the families who knew the truth. Well, except for the Survey Corps - thousands of the most curious and most capable men and women slaughtered. For what? A lie. How laughable their efforts must have seemed for the insiders!

A napkin was whacked over her head: Her grandmother was trying to regain her attention. "When will you admit to me you lied about Elior?" she whined.

"Elior is long dead, Grandma," Zoë said mildly. "The Ackerman you saw earlier is called Levi. And I did not lie."

Levi is my Ackerman.

"What nonsense!" Grandma Clothilde screamed and flipped over her plate, spilling soup all over the pristine tablecloth. Several footmen jumped to her aid with cleaning rags and fresh napkins.

"That's enough," Council Hange said frostily. "Zoë, you're distressing your Elder."

He signaled to his wife who sprang to her feet, apologizing profoundly to Queen Historia before hurrying over.

"You were always adept at provoking her, Zoë," her mother said under her breath. "Please let me take over. We should switch places."

"She lied about my Elior!" Grandma Clothilde shouted, "ugly bitch!"

"Mother," Council Hange coughed. "Please calm yourself."

"You must punish her, Daniel," Grandma demanded. "She is one of those military floozies who wants to steal my man away!"

"Mother, please," Zoë's mother put a calming hand on Grandma's sleeve. "The Queen is here. You mustn't upset her."

"The… Queen?" Grandma's eyes bulged as she moved them around the room. "Since when do we have a queen? What happened to King Fritz?"

"It's the year 850, mother," Zoë's mother informed the dowager gently. "A lot has happened since the day of King Fritz."

Understatement.

Glad the old witch was dumbstruck and quiet now, Zoë walked up to her mother's place, rolling her eyes at Historia in passing. Seeming relieved to have her closer, the Queen suppressed a giggle.

"You must forgive us," Council Hange addressed her stiffly, "my mother is very old, she sometimes forgets where she is."

"The dowager is not a fan of the military, it seems," Historia sweetly replied. "I wonder why that is?"

"Well," Council Hange coughed. "You must understand that there were some… issues when Paradis was first founded."

"Oh, really?" Zoë let herself fall into her mother's vacated chair. "Pray do tell."

Her father shot her an icy look.

"I did not know about that either," Historia smiled innocently. "What kind of issues?"

"A quite heated dispute about who would have what kind of role in the new states behind the Walls," Council Hange said stiffly. "It was the Survey Corps who was the most difficult. Naturally."

Funny how proud that made Zoë feel.

"Oh?" Historia said, lifting her eyebrows.

"That branch was created last, mainly to appease the portion of the population that didn't agree with the isolationist policy of the government. They needed convincing how dangerous Titans really are."

"Ah, I get it, "Zoë pulled a face. "Since the Survey Corps got decimated by the dozen and never yielded anything but failures upon failures in one hundred years, it helped legitimize the government's position. 'Go outside and you'll be slaughtered'. A strong message."

It galled her that they had been used as a tool to strike fear into those who had doubted - or worse, had attracted those doubters and inevitably killed them in the line of duty. Nobody got old in the Survey Corps - or they might have uncovered the truth much sooner.

"I fail to understand what the problem was you spoke about earlier though," Historia spoke up again. "Why was the Survey Corps difficult?"

"The outer gates," Council Hange explained. "It was clearly a risk to have them built - too high a risk for a large part of the noble families. As we now know they were right. Apart from that, every single Commander of the Survey Corps was a pain to manage - a task that was given to the Hange family."

"That's just grand," Zoë beamed. "You want to manage me? And how exactly are you planning to do that?"

Her father remained silent, watching her steadily with his cold eyes. Wait. Maybe the Hanges had tried to use the Ackermans to threaten their adversaries? That would be so like them. If so, things were getting better and better: Not only was a member of the Hange family the Commander of the Survey Corps, she also had the two last Ackermans in her unit. It felt like a good reason to put on a smug face.

"And?" Historia insisted.

"Yes. Given a personal feud with the Commander at that time, my Father vehemently opposed the Survey Corps and my Mother supported his position just as ardently. That's why she feels provoked by your uniforms - it reminds her of those times."

"I'm guessing Granny hates women in uniform because a certain Elior liked women in uniforms better than bitchy aristocrats?" Zoë smiled at her father. She would have bet that 'using the Ackermans' had spectacularly backfired not only for the King but also the noble families - because one didn't just use Ackermans. They pretty much did what they wanted.

"Hold your impertinent tongue!" her Father snapped.

"A warning, Council Hange," Zoë added smoothly. "Be rude to me again and find out just how much trouble the Commander of the Survey Corps can be."

Her father pressed his lips together hard and stared down at his plate. Full of glee, Zoë attacked the contents of her plate, finding she had a tremendous appetite all of a sudden.

###

"These rich people sure feed their soldiers well," Jean looked at the steaming serving bowls on the long wooden table in awe, "shame Sasha and Conny aren't here."

Like it was nothing, the Hange house guards were served fried meat on an ordinary workday.

"Maybe they're looking for someone as untalented as you here," Eren snapped moodily. "You can sign up and get fat doing nothing. Wasn't that always your wish?"

"Indeed, eating meat every day and not having to see your sour fuckface again sounds like paradise!" Jean retorted.

"You didn't just mention my face, did you?" Eren asked with a dangerous smile. "That's so stupid, you ugly bastard."

"Quiet, brats," Levi reprimanded them sharply.

Eren ducked his head and Jean glowered. Seriously? Levi had come down to the guard quarters from the library, finding the atmosphere between these two wranglers loaded like the air before a massive thunderstorm. Could they not hold back for once? He really had no time for their immature shit.

"Captain Levi," Armin said quietly at his elbow, "do you think the food is safe?"

"Yes," Levi nodded, "I checked."

He had visited the kitchens earlier, finding the cook and her helpers quite willing to talk to him. Almost all of them were from the Underground. They knew who he was but not only that - they had immediately understood his concerns and had given him all the details about where the food came from, who prepared it, and by whom it was served.

"Then we should eat," Armin suggested. "We'll need our strength."

"By all means, eat," Levi said, making a gesture towards the food though he had no appetite. He was giving the situation about ten minutes to blow up.

Armin began ladling food on everyone's plates, including Levi's.

"Commander Hange told us to be extra careful," he babbled. "She seems not to trust her family?"

"Don't think of anyone here as her family," Levi advised him. "It was very daring of us to come here."

"But sitting around waiting for someone to make a move is worse," Armin said.

Mikasa cut her piece of meat in two and put one half on Eren's plate, a hopeful look in her eyes. Angrily, he flicked it away. She froze.

"Stop being a nasty piece of shit," Jean hissed. "She hasn't done anything to deserve your contempt."

"Stop fussing over me," Eren snapped at Mikasa, "for the hundredth of time, you're not my mom and you're not my girlfriend either!"

How had he landed in a teenage drama so suddenly, Levi wondered, watching Mikasa's usually so tranquil face turn dark with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

"Eren is behaving strangely," Armin whispered to Levi. "We're a little… concerned."

"Stranger than usual?" Levi tilted his head to watch Eren viciously chomp on a piece of meat, his green eyes stormy and wild. It confirmed his own strange unease that something was fundamentally off with Eren - but though it kept nagging him, he just couldn't put a finger on it.

"Ever since the medal ceremony, something is not right," Armin nodded, "but he won't tell us what it is."

However correct that assessment might be, Levi was unfortunately obliged to give priority to their more immediate problem. That problem being Annika… who was trying to pick a fight with the Hange House guards ever since stepping into their quarters a few hours ago. Judging from the mounting level of hostility, she was succeeding.

Presently, the guards on duty sat on one end of the long table. They were touching their food but were stiffly watching Annika munching noisily, drinking directly from a bottle that was meant to be shared and likely contained a good vintage of wine. Theodor Treibel was cringing next to her, occasionally attempting to try to take the bottle from her.

"Oi," Levi said sharply.

Theodor looked up. Annika didn't. Instead she burped loudly and took another piece of meat from the platter before her with her hand.

"You slut," one of the guards pressed out.

Less than ten minutes before this was going to blow up - and if it did, it was going to be a spectacular mess. Hanji would be livid, rightfully so: She probably had her hands full upstairs with her snobs of a family.

Levi stood up abruptly. "Annika," he said, "follow me."

She turned her fat-glistening face towards him and smiled amiably. "Why?"

"It wasn't a question but an order. Come now or watch me get nasty."

She looked him up and down, then shrugged. "Okay. I can't resist your angry face."

She staggered when she got to her feet. Levi sniffed. Judging from the fumes wafting in his direction, the wine wasn't the only alcohol she had imbibed.

"She went after their private stock," Teddy informed Levi quietly. "And threw the empty bottles into their rooms. And that's not all. She stole things from them."

Levi pressed his lips together angrily and pushed Annika forward and out of the dining room. "I'm coming, I'm coming," she slurred as she staggered up the stairs in front of him. "No need to be so rough. Unless you want to come back to my room and be rough together? It's presently empty."

"Cut the crap," Levi snapped at her. "Do you really need to be a nuisance right now?"

"Oh yes," she answered, sounding strangely bitter. "You know exactly who these people are and what they did in the Underground. Fuck them all!"

Did he? Levi's mind wandered back to that time… The Fight. Losing. Dying. That was all he remembered. The rest… stories, whispers, side-long glances. He was the tragic hero of the Uprising, the King of the Underground without a crown. At least that's what the staff had called him in the kitchen. Good lord. Even his biggest mess-ups were turned into heroic stories by these people.

"Nobody here incited people to riot," he said darkly, "you and I are the ones to blame for what happened."

"Don't fool yourself," Annika snorted. "Your noble father-in-law knew exactly what was happening, which includes knowing what was going to happen to you and he was more than ready to let you die."

"So what, you want to avenge my honor?" Levi scoffed. "I can take care of myself. You must have guessed we came here for crucial information, Annika. Don't mess it up."

"Or what?" she turned around on the stairs, looking down on him with a lopsided smile. "Will you threaten to kill me again? How pathetic and predictable you've become."

Levi looked up at the woman who had poisoned his adolescence with her coldness and cruelty. Kenny's willing puppet, sent to ensnare him and keep an eye on him.

"Whom are you working for these days?" he asked her.

"Hm," she said, lifting her hand to put it on his head, her smile broadening. "Like I'd tell you."

He didn't shake the hand off though he felt a jolt of revulsion at the touch. Annika was the one who had told Kenny about Eren's Titan abilities. Kenny had told Rod Reiss. Rod Reiss had tried to feed Eren to Historia... The one conspicuously absent from this story? The villain hiding in the dark.

"It's Tybur, isn't it?" Levi sighed. "Annika, don't be a fucking fool. You are no match for people like him. He's going to eat you for breakfast."

Without saying a word, Annika removed her hand from his head, turned around and stomped up the stairs, resolutely pushing open the door that led to the little courtyard reserved for the servants for their breaks.

"And what if I am?" she confronted him once he had stepped out behind her.

"What does he want?" Levi asked. "Power? Over whom? Someone across the ocean? Someone like him who has options won't choose to just sit behind a bunch of walls, waiting for superior enemies to obliterate him, that much is clear."

"You know what he wants," Annika answered darkly.

"That's ridiculous," Levi frowned. "This isn't about me."

"You're right, it's not," she sneered. He noticed that she looked strangely weary in the evening light, her face showing the first signs of aging, fine lines around her eyes and mouth.

No, of course this wasn't about him. But it was about his dying bloodline.

"Did Kenny ever tell you anything useful about the Ackermans?" Levi asked grimly.

"Not a word," Annika shrugged. "I'm still angry that the bastard died on me so suddenly. You know that he wanted us to have children? He told me to stop using contraceptives. But I..." she shrugged again, "...gotta draw a line somewhere."

"How very noble of you," Levi thought he saw something move in the shadows to his right but when he turned his head, there was nothing out of the ordinary, just a stack of boxes. "So... you're trying to create an incident with the guards so that you can go run back to Tybur to report about the situation? He's following us here, isn't he."

Again, Annika said nothing in reply.

"Really, Annika. You messed up."

She made a step into his direction, anger making her eyes blaze. "And who are you to judge, you little…"

The shadows to their right suddenly exploded into their faces. Levi sneezed violently when soot or something similar clogged his nose and mouth.

"Yayyyyyiiiii!" somebody shouted and threw themselves on Annika.

Not a good idea.

However tipsy she might be, Annika swiveled around and kicked instinctively, hitting her assailant hard. A yelp and a knife clattered to the ground. Levi rubbed his stinging eyes, seeing arms and legs, teeth and a pair of wild, desperate eyes.

Annika went in for the kill, her hands around the smaller humans' throat. Ugly gurgling ensued.

"Stop that," Levi growled and swung his leg around towards Annika's head. The redhead made an annoyed sound upon impact between his boot and her temple and crumpled to the ground.

"Hell," a female voice gasped and a lithe shape turned into a girl. A woman. A girl-woman. "That almost went south."

Levi blinked. He knew this girl-woman. "Esmelda?" he asked incredulously. "Damn. It's you!"

"Nii-chan," Esmelda grinned shyly at him. "How well you look in that uniform! You won't stop me from killing her, right? I have a score to settle with the brutal bitch."

###

There were no further incidents during dinner, apart from the custard in the fruit tart that was curdling and some water that spilled on the floor due to a clumsy new footman. Oh, the horrors of noble life. Grandma Clothilde was quiet, her father polite but cautious, Freddie a little tongue-tied. And she had eaten so much it was hard to move, Zoë found at the end of dinner when her chair was pulled back for her and they were to move to the salon for after-dinner chitchat.

"I'm so very tired," Historia excused herself. They had agreed on this before coming here, the Queen was going to retreat and to rejoin with the MP and garrison units who would ensure her protection during the night.

"Zoë? Are you coming?" Her mother smiled at her from the door. Men went to a salon to the right, women to a bigger drawing room on the left, Zoë remembered from endless boring dinner parties with endlessly boring guests in her youth. She had always wanted to join the men in their room because what they did just had to be better than what was going on in the women's corner!

"The Commander of the Survey Corps is coming with me and Frederick," her father said icily. "I'm sure idle womanly chitchat is like poison to her."

Alright! Zoë suppressed a grin, trying not to feel bad about how disappointed her mother looked. Finally, she would uncover the men's dark, exciting secrets!

"The Queen seems very young," Freddie mused as they exited the dining room together.

"That's because she is," Zoë replied. Young and way out of bound for him. Wasn't he married? "But she's as gutsy as they come."

He nodded. "Killed her own father, didn't she."

"Among other things," Zoë smiled at him. He had a winning personality. Though really, what did she even know about him?

"Thanks for bringing Teddy Treibel here," Freddie said and opened a door for her. "We used to be thick as thieves when we were around five! Does this mean the engagement is back on the table?"

"Ugh, no," Zoë shook her head vigorously.

"He is taking this military shit quite seriously, poor chap."

"I'll give him some time off tomorrow so you can catch up," Zoë offered. "Don't put him into any awkward situations though. He's under my command for the moment."

"Kinky."

"I wish. It's hard work."

"You always liked to order boys around," Freddie grinned. "Never quite worked when you were little though. And apparently, you had a thing with the tiny Ackerman, Father said?"

"Did he?" Zoë asked coldly. "Yeah, he thought it smart to meddle in my private affairs. Didn't quite work out either."

"Careful, Sis," Freddie dropped his voice, throwing their Father, who walked ahead of them, a guarded look. "Bringing the Ackerman here wasn't a smart move."

"Why?"

"Can't tell you."

"Hey, while we're on the topic, do you remember an Ackerman who used to live here?"

Freddie looked confused at the question. "Yes, I do, don't you?"

"Not… really?"

"You were very fond of him. He taught you how to ride."

"It wasn't Elior though, right?"

"Elior?" Freddie pulled a face. "That's the name of the one who lived here during Great-grandfather Hange's time."

"Do you know what happened to him?"

Freddie shrugged. "No clue. I think I remember hearing that he just disappeared? They all did, one way or another. Weird people. But you should know - Your Ackerman is going to pull a number on you too. The more you try to control them the faster they betray you."

Never.

"What was the name of the Ackerman who taught me how to ride?"

"I don't remember that, Sis," Freddie huffed with an eye-roll. "Knut? Kurt? Burt? Something like that. Go ask Dad, he'll know."

Nope.

"Did our mother have an affair with him?"

"What?! Mother?! Never!" Freddie looked so outraged, Zoë thought it better to drop the topic. For now.

The men's lounge was full of leather fauteuils, deep red walls, and book cabinets with glass doors. Wordlessly, her father held out a small wooden case to her, in which fragrant brown sticks the size of fat long fingers lay. She took one and sniffed it. Pungent. Interesting. She turned it around in her hand to study it. Organic material. Quite hard. There was a slim colorful paper band going round, with strange writing on it.

"Here," Freddie poured a dark golden liquid into a glass. Alcohol. But not a kind she had ever seen nor tasted.

"Contraband," she marveled. "From the outside!"

The thick fingers were there to smoke, a very rare treat, Freddie whispered to her, called cigars. One end was cut off, the other end lit. He warned her not to draw the smoke into her lungs, a nice gesture on his part. Had he not always played evil pranks on her in their childhood? She still almost coughed her lungs out because she had to try swallowing the scratchy smoke anyway.

"Oh boy," Zoë's head began feeling strange. She let herself fall into one of the leather chairs, examining the cigar once again. What strange plant was it made from? What an effect!

"Have you come here with two Titans and two Ackermans to threaten me?" her father, who had been watching her, asked.

She looked at him, pondering his mood. He looked wary. Good.

"You see power, I see weakness," she shrugged. "I have only a handful of soldiers left. There's a Survey Corps mass grave in front of Shiganshina. Some say it was worth it."

"Do you?" her father blew blue smoke into the air.

"Well," Zoë watched the fine line of fire slowly eat away the fragrant stick between her fingers, "I will never forgive you and everybody else who kept secrets about our people's history. How many soldiers died in one hundred years to find out what you knew all along?"

"Thousands," her father said drily. "Good riddance, all fools."

"Thousands of our best, and thousands too many," she said sharply. "And now your secret is coming over to wipe us out when we're at our weakest."

"All because the royal family is no longer in the possession of the Founder. It's simple, Zoë: they need it back."

"That's not gonna happen."

Her father looked at the smoke drifting up to the ceiling. "You have to be ruthless in your position or you won't make it for long."

"Historia will never agree to anything that harms Eren. And vice versa. I know these kids. I know what they've been through and I know what they're worth."

"Sure. But if you think I'm just going to sit around waiting for the enemy to kill us all, you're mistaken."

Hm. Zoë carefully sucked on her fragrant stick and blew out the smoke through her nose.

"Why did you try to kidnap the Queen?"

"Really, Zoë. You can figure it out for yourself," a smug smile appeared on his lips.

"The Queen and Eren," she mused. "Do you have Titan serum here?"

"What if I do?"

"Then I'll have to arrest you. It's an illegal possession of high risk."

"I had a good look at your little Queen," her father leaned forward a little, his gaze intensifying. "A cute little thing. I'm not ready to entrust my life and the lives of the other noble families to someone like her."

Freddie looked up with a gasp. Good old Freddie. Historia's charm had worked on him at least.

"I could arrest you for that too."

"Don't be ridiculous," her father waved his hand dismissively. "You have not come all the way here for such heavy-handed gestures."

Zoë looked over at Freddie who was busy staring at the floor now, looking pensive and uncomfortable.

"Levi's indictment. You wanted to lure out Tybur? You don't have Titan serum yet. But he does."

"Not bad. Sometimes you're almost making me proud to be your father."

"You lured him successfully. He's coming here too."

"Rash of you," her father lightly tapped the end of his cigar over a glass ashtray. "But that's how you always were."

"Are those flying things his or yours?"

"His. He is trying to bring noble families to his side. Quite successfully."

"He has royal blood."

"He does."

"Fuck," Zoë bit her lip. "You wouldn't trust someone like him, would you? He's not one of us!"

"Well, he's Eldian and he is here because he hates his family who lived across the ocean. Hence, trusting him is the better option than trusting this weak blonde girl with the huge blue eyes," her father scoffed. "Who, as you just said, would never think of taking back what is hers by right."

"You want to feed Eren to Tybur? And then?"

"Then the deterrent is credible again. The enemy across the ocean will not dare launch an attack. And if it looks like they do, we will give them a taste of what we have in store."

Zoë suppressed a shudder. "Release the Wall Titans?"

"They want to obliterate us, Zoë," her father said. "There is no other way."

"I cannot believe you would trust Tybur with this much power. Did you not work against him five years ago?"

"I don't trust him in the least. That is why I need a deterrent against him too."

Zoë said nothing. But she knew what was coming. How could she not?

"You've got two of them," her father's tone was almost chatty now. "Choose one that stays with me. In return, I promise not to touch your pretty queen. Even more, I will protect her against her uncle who will want to impregnate her to breed purer Fritz babies before killing her. She can go back to doing charitable work for all I care."

"Why should Tybur be afraid of the Ackermans?" she asked grimly.

"Because they can walk on the Paths without permission. Because they're the only ones who can harm the Founder there. You just need to know how to control them."

Zoë shook her head. "Didn't that backfire spectacularly before?"

"Yes," her father agreed. "But it's different now." He pulled a dirty red book from his inside pocket. "You see, I've got this from my dear Mother Clothilde who managed to draw a few secrets from one of the Ackermans when she was young and pretty."

Council Hange began turning the pages, then stopped and looked at her.

"It's strangely simple - just a word. Would you like to know it too?" He smiled, looking like a wolf about to devour his prey. "Whisper it into his ear tonight and see what happens. I dare you, Zoë dear. And maybe it will teach you a lesson: I know very well how to manage the Commanders of the Survey Corps. In fact, I consider myself by far the best at it in one hundred years."