─•~:~•─

The following morning, The King and Queen stood outside on the grand steps, awaiting the delegation of Konigreich.

Behind them were a host of aides, attendants, and all manner of servants. In the back stood Violet and Isis, trying not to get lost in the shuffle.

"I can't see anything back here," Isis complained as she shuffled around for a better view.

Violet simply remained still, using all of her strength to keep her emotions in check.

The Konigreich delegation was not supposed to be armed, but they had arrived in a show of force. The Prime Minister's motorcade arrived, escorted in by military lorries. The Soldiers jumped out from the rear of the lorries, and Violet rapidly brought her gaze to the gates of the Royal Palace.

Those grey uniforms haunted her dreams – along with Gilbert's screaming. The pointed helmets, the black buckled boots.

Her emotions were trying to run wild. Her mind didn't know what to do.

Run.

Fight.

Scream.

Hide.

But the Doll won again, and Violet remained perfectly still as the King approached his counterpart.

"On behalf of the Kingdom, welcome to Leiden, Gentlemen. I am King Stanislaus Weninger. While in my home, you may think of yourselves as my guests. Any wish you might have, please inform me or the staff, and it will be tended to as soon as possible."

The Prime Minister of Konigreich stepped forward. Violet assessed him, as she did everyone.

He was older now, in his late fifties. But in his youth, he had been a strong man, perhaps a street fighter, maybe even a soldier. He wore glasses, but that was perhaps his only weakness.

And when he spoke, it was with assured confidence.

"Well, you're younger than I expected. Let's do away with the pleasantries, shall we? I have no desire to be in this place any longer than necessary. How soon can we start these talks?"

"As soon as you'd like to, Sir," The King said, lowering his unshaken hand, "If you wish to rest, we have prepared guest quarters for yourself and your party. And I would like to ask the honour of your company with me and my wife this evening for dinner."

The Prime Minister sighed, "Fine, fine, the sooner this gets done, the better."

Led by Helga, the Konigreich delegation walked inside the palace. The Soldiers – likely the Prime Minister's bodyguard – were led to separate barracks by the Guardsmen, who kept their own rifles well in view.

Once everyone had gone inside, only three were left. Isis, Violet, and the King himself.

"So, what did you think of my counterpart from Konigreich?" The King asked, taking a seat on the steps.

Violet bowed before his Majesty, "He seems confident, at the least. Dismissive, perhaps even arrogant. He is clearly not find of you, your Majesty."

"I'd say he was a right ass, Stanny. Did he forget that he lost the war?" Isis added, sitting beside the King.

"Technically, no one won or lost yet. Until we sign this treaty anyway. We beat his army in the field, but it wasn't exactly an easy victory."

The King sighed, "Would you believe I used to look up to that man? He was a Professor at the Officer's Academy not so long ago."

"Wait, you don't mean—" Isis said in shock, before the King finished her thoughts.

"That's right Isis. Prime Minister Erik Rommel is Leiden by birth. He moved to Konigreich as a young man, got wrapped up in politics, and eventually came to govern the whole country."

King Weninger stood up and put his hand on Violet's shoulder, "Would you do me a favour, Violet?"

"As you desire, your Majesty," Violet replied, letting the Doll win again.

"Would you pay him a visit before dinner? I'd like to get to know this man, and I think you'd be able to provide an unbiased opinion."

Violet hesitated, for a moment.

Face to face – and alone – with the enemy's leader. Vengeance, for everything that he'd done.

For Felix.

For Felicity.

For Gilbert.

For Violet.

"I'll come too! I wanna know about these guys as much as anyone!" Isis added, grabbing Violet's hand.

Weninger smiled, "Well, two eyes are better than one. Just be careful you two. This is a peace negotiation, but I wouldn't put it past Erik to make an example out of you."

─•~:~•─

Isis decided to play distraction for Violet, chatting up the Soldiers staying on the wing.

Violet walked up to the door and knocked, "Mr. Prime Minister? Are you in, sir?"

The door opened. Erick Rommel raised in eyebrow in surprise, "You don't look like one of the servants? What do you want?"

"I am an Auto-Memories Doll, Mr. Prime Minister. His Majesty asked if I might speak with you for a few moments, to understand his counterpart better," Violet explained with a bow.

"A word of advice, Doll? It's poor cover for a spy to admit she is such," Erick Rommel scoffed as he opened the door.

The Prime Minister loosened his tie, placed his blazer over a chair, and poured a glass of whiskey before turning, "Would you care for a drink?"

Violet shook her head, "I am on duty. It would be inappropriate to consume alcohol at this time."

"On Duty? A curious choice of words. What's your name?"

"Violet Evergarden, Sir."

Erik sipped his beverage, "Sir? Hardly anyone calls me that."

"Do you have a preference for being addressed?"

Erik smirked, "What would you call me, Violet?"

"That is not my choice to make," Violet explained, "I serve my client, of which you are at the moment. Your words are yours, it is my job to give expression and meaning to them."

"You're a very interesting Doll, Violet," Erik said as he sipped his drink again, "Your friend outside is chatting away with my soldiers like they were old friends at tavern somewhere."

"But you," he said, pointing at her, "You're waiting for something. And you're not just looking at me. You're assessing me, as a Soldier would."

Violet simply remained standing. Her question hadn't been answered yet.

"In a different life, I was a Professor. I taught strategy. The first lesson I would teach my students was this. If you know your enemy, and you know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself, but not the enemy, for every victory, you will suffer a defeat. And if you know neither your enemy or yourself, victory will forever be out of your grasp."

"The fifth art of war," said Violet.

Erik raised his glass, "Well done. I must say, I'm surprised to encounter someone as well educated as you in this place."

"I have made an extensive study of the subject, given my experiences."

"Experiences?" Erik asked, "Did you fight?"

"I did," Violet replied, still waiting for a preference in address.

"Tell me then, Violet, how would you asses the performance of my army?"

The memories again invaded her mind.

The bombs.

The shells.

The guns.

The screaming.

But the Doll kept fighting, "They were well equipped, and their officers led well. But their training was lacking in comparison to Leiden. They made crucial tactical errors, and failed to concentrate in force, despite the advantage of numbers."

The Doll continued, "They were reluctant to fight a war of maneuver, which allowed us the advantage of being able to choose the time and place of most engagements. The sixth art of war."

Erik offered a smile, "Right on all counts, Violet. Well, is that what you plan to tell my student Stanislaus?"

"I have little to tell him, so far. My orders were to assess the man. So far, all I have learned is that he is educated, which is something that was already known."

"And you've yet to call me anything," he pointed out, "My name is Erik."

He extended his hand. Violet took it, and although she could have injured him, she merely squeezed enough that he would feel it.

Erik kept smiling, "You may tell my student this. He may have triumphed in the field, perhaps with Dolls like you fighting for him, but he would be sorely mistaken if he thinks himself the victor."

The smile faded away, and it was replaced by cold seriousness, "We are here because peace is the solution to troubles. But If he should dare to try his luck, we will fight to the bitter end. Is that enough meaning in my words, Violet?"

"I believe it will suffice," She replied, not breaking his grip.

The smile returned, "Splendid. Now, might I indulge a request of my own?"

He released his grip and reached into his case, taking out a copy of Felix's book, "I quite enjoyed this. Would you autograph the cover?"

Her mind started screaming.

It's because of you he's dead! Felix would still be here if it wasn't for you! How dare you?!

But the Doll yet again proved stronger. Violet took his pen, etched her signature on the cover, and returned both items to his hands.

"Thank you, It didn't think I'd get that chance. Now, I must ask you to leave. I'll have to change for dinner. Good evening, Violet."

She took a bow, "Good evening, Erik. I hope you enjoy dinner."

─•~:~•─