The Lady Sybil von Crawley

Every year, it seemed as though the trip to Odin for the season came with more chaotic of a departure for the Crawley family than the last. Sybil didn't mind the excitement, not in the least. Among her sisters, she was always the fastest to pack, not feeling the need to hem and haw over every last detail like Mary and Edith did. She was simply picking dresses from her wardrobe at random, chatting with Gwen, the housemaid who was helping her, the whole time.

"I'm so excited," Sybil said. "I had a letter from Maggie- Baroness Westpfale- this morning. She said she wants to take me out on the town as soon as we get to Odin."

"Very exciting," Gwen said. "Are you taking this one?" She held out a green dress, one with delicate little beaded flowers festooned across the chest.

"Oh, yes. I forgot about that one." Sybil said. She took it and held it up to her petite frame in the mirror, looking at the way the green stood out against her dark hair. "How many more should I take, you think?"

"I don't know, m'lady. You don't want for space in the trunks, that's for sure."

"But if I bring too many, I won't have an excuse to go shopping when we get there." She grinned, and Gwen tentatively smiled back.

"Is the fashion really so different on Odin?"

"I think it depends on what you call different."

"'Suppose if I went with you, I'd still be in uniform," Gwen said.

"Shame not everybody gets to come," Sybil said. The disappointment in her voice was genuine, but Gwen shook her head.

"I don't mind. I don't know if I could bear going on a ship like that," Gwen said. "Not after what happened to His Lordship's cousin."

Sybil frowned. "It's perfectly safe."

"I hope so, m'lady. But you're more adventurous than I am."

"Maybe next year, I'll ask Frau Hughes if you can come with us."

"Oh, no, I couldn't."

"Oh, alright." Sybil sat back down on her bed and leaned back on her arms, staring up at the canopy ceiling. "You'd like Odin, though. Everything in the universe happens there."

"Everything?"

"When I'm old enough that Mama won't make a fuss, I want to live there, not just go for the season."

"When will that be, m'lady?"

Sybil laughed. "When I'm sixty-two, maybe. Aunt Rosamund lives on Odin, so I don't see why I couldn't someday. But Mama wouldn't want me to be so far away. She won't even want me to go out to see Maggie. I'll have to find a way to escape secretly."

"Very exciting," Gwen said. "You like Baroness Westpfale?"

" Love her," Sybil said, rather dreamily. "She's so… vivid."

"How did you meet her?"

"When I came out," Sybil said. "She was at Neue Sanssouci that night, and introduced herself. She knows Mary and Edith, too. I think they've seen each other at parties for years."

"How old is she?"

"Mary's age, I think?" Sybil said. "Not old, anyway. Why do you ask?"

"I was just wondering- she's married?"

"Oh, no. At least not last time I saw her."

"I don't really understand, m'lady," Gwen said. "She's a baroness? But Lady Mary isn't going to be able to inherit His Lordship's title."

"Oh, that," Sybil said. "If the title, back in the line, was given to a lady first, women can inherit it. The first Westpfale must have been a woman. But the first Count Grantham was a man, so… Poor Mary. Doesn't really seem fair."

Gwen nodded, then held up another dress from the wardrobe. "This one, m'lady?"

"Oh, I don't know. What do you think?"

"Pink suits you."

"Then sure, I'll take it." She grinned at Gwen, who smiled back, and laid the dress on the neat pile to come with her.

They continued to talk for a little while longer, until the set of outfits to bring along had been narrowed down into what would fit in just a few trunks, and Gwen called one of the footmen to help carry them away. Sybil slipped out down the hall and headed for Mary's room, knocking and then leaning on the doorframe when Mary said she could come in.

Anna, the head housemaid, was with her, picking through Mary's jewelry to decide what to take.

"You finished packing first, I see," Mary said, holding some earrings up to her ears and contemplating her reflection in the dressing table mirror. "It's not as though doing it faster will make us leave sooner."

"I know," Sybil said. "But I didn't see any need to wait. I am excited, even if you're not."

"I'm excited," Mary said. But it was in that above-it-all tone she usually had.

"You could stand to act like it."

"We're not going to Odin to jaunt around," Mary pointed out. "At least I'm not."

"Don't tell me you can't have a little fun, even if you are going to have to find a husband."

"I'm sure that process will be fun in its own way." She put the earrings back down. "I'm interested to try it, at least, though I expect Mama and Papa both will give me about as much choice in my next suitor as they did for my last one."

Sybil just rolled her eyes and came in to sit on the bed. "There were reasons for them wanting you to marry Patrick."

"I'm well aware," Mary said. "But I went along with it before because I was younger. I don't think I'll do the same again if they want me to marry the new heir."

"Do they?"

"If you think the thought hasn't crossed their minds, you're fooling yourself."

"Have we ever met him?" Sybil asked.

"I have, years ago. Didn't leave much of an impression on me."

"Hunh."

"You could start looking yourself, you know," Mary said. "You've been presented at court, so you're perfectly eligible. And there's nothing holding you back like-"

"Oh, don't be mean to Edith, Mary," Sybil said. "I think she's perfectly beautiful."

"You have a generous imagination."

"I think we'll be on Odin until at least you find some prospects, so I'm not in any rush," Sybil said.

"I wouldn't recommend you wait on me," Mary said. "Urgency always makes me drag my feet that much more."

"Like with packing."

"You're not making me go any faster."

"I wasn't trying to."

Anna, who had been listening as she carefully wrapped some of Mary's chosen necklaces in tissue paper for the journey, gave Sybil a small smile, and Sybil grinned back.

"I have to wonder what the social calendar is going to be like when we arrive," Mary said. She fished around for something in her jewelry box, but it was clear that she was just looking for something to do with her hands. Sybil kicked her heels against the side of Mary's bed. "Granny will probably take it upon herself to parade me around the town."

"You love Granny."

"I love being a show pig rather less, I'm afraid."

Somehow, Sybil wasn't sure that was true. "Well, if you don't want to go out quite as much, you should convince Papa to host some sort of event."

"Gather all my potential suitors in one place and have them joust for my attention?" Though Mary's voice was dry, the idea had clearly caught her attention. "Perhaps."

"Who would you invite?"

"You should think of who you want to invite," Mary said. "We're all going to have to get married. It's not like the money Papa has set aside for us will last very long if we don't. We'll all have to manage it somehow. Even Edith."

"Even Edith what?" Edith said, coming to stand in the open doorway. Mary grimaced.

"You finished packing, Edith?" Sybil asked, turning to smile at her other sister. While Mary managed to make her mourning black dress look chic, Edith's dour outfit only made her face look paler and her eyes wider above her large nose.

"I'll go back to it later," she said. "It's almost time for tea." She looked over at the open trunks where a few of Mary's dresses had been neatly folded already. "Are you really bringing those?" she asked.

"Why wouldn't I?" Mary asked.

"You should be in mourning."

"The period will be up by the time we get to Odin."

"Not for a fiancee."

"We weren't engaged, not really."

"It's like you didn't care about him at all."

"I don't know why it should matter to you," Mary said. "It's not as though you had any intention of marrying him." Mary wasn't even looking at her, and was back to looking at her jewelry in the mirror.

Edith's expression darkened for a moment, but she composed herself and said, "It all seems rather callous. Like you wanted to get rid of him."

"Wanted? I certainly didn't bribe the pirates to attack his ship," Mary said. "What I wanted with regards to Patrick hardly seemed to matter, since the whole matter was settled when I was about six years old." She dropped her hands to the dressing table. "It would certainly look odd for me to be in mourning while the rest of you weren't, since nobody but family even knew we were intending to marry."

"But you were intending. It seems cruel."

"Patrick can hardly be bothered by it, at this point." She turned in her chair. "I loved him as a cousin; I'll mourn him as a cousin. I don't see how that couldn't satisfy you."

"Come on, Edith," Sybil said. "Everyone on Odin looks so bright all the time, you can hardly expect Mary to-"

"If Patrick had been my fiancee-"

"Well, he wasn't. So I don't see why you should care."

"I wouldn't be able to turn around and look for someone else to take his place quite so fast as you seem to want to."

"Luckily, you don't have grief to delay your attempts to find a suitor," Mary intoned. "You'll need all the time you have, and I don't think getting older will do you any favors."

"Mary!" Sybil exclaimed.

Edith turned up her chin. "You think it'll be so easy for you."

"What should it matter whether it's easy for me or not?"

"Because I know what your plan is."

"And what's my plan?" Mary picked up a hairpiece and held it against her dark hair. It sparkled in the light coming through the window. "I think I will take this one, Anna," she said, and handed it over.

"No one would want to marry you if they knew you weren't going to have any inheritance other than your dowry and what Papa's leaving for you. But I don't think it's right, to pretend like you have the money."

"Who says I'm going to pretend anything?"

"Mama told me not to let that slip. Did she tell you, as well, Sybil?"

"No, I-"

"Afraid you were going to stab me in the back, was she?" Mary asked. Edith was silent. "But it wouldn't matter if you did. I shouldn't think I need the promise of Mama's fortune to find a husband."

"You'll have to rely on looks, since your personality won't do it."

"Oh, Edith, come on," Sybil said.

"That's more than you have to rely on," Mary said. "So I suppose I still have the advantage."

Edith made a disgruntled noise and turned on her heel, heading out of the room. "I'm heading down to tea."

When she had gone, Mary looked over at Anna, who had been silently following the exchange. "What's got her so bothered?"

"No idea, m'lady," Anna said, though her usual patience was clearly wearing a little thin. "But she's right that it's teatime."

Mary sighed. "Very well." She gave one last lingering touch to a broach laid out on the desk. "I suppose I will be glad to get to Odin. There's more places to go to get away from each other, at least."

"Not if Granny brings us all around to dinner at every house with an eligible gentleman in it," Sybil said.

Mary laughed. "Oh, Granny should know better than to bring the both of us together."

"You could try to get along, you know."

"We do get along," Mary said.

Sybil just shook her head and rolled off the bed onto her feet. "Come on," she said, holding out her hand. "Let's see how Mama's doing with her packing."

The whole Crawley household arrived with a great hustle and bustle to their family home on Odin in the middle of the local night, after an interminable journey aboard a merchant passenger ship that they had chartered. As usual, Mary grumbled that they should buy a ship of their own for the family to use, but Edith had told her that she should just marry the richest man that she could find, and then she could buy whatever spaceship she pleased. This usually sent Mary into a tiff. Tensions ran short, and by the time they set foot on solid ground on Odin, Sybil was anxious to get as far away from the both of them as possible, tired of being the go between and the only reasonable one. If they had arrived back at their estate in the middle of the day, Sybil might have excused herself to go on a long walk of the grounds and re-acquaint herself with them, but as they came past midnight, and with all the lights and noise and going in and out and waking up all the Odin staff to handle their things, it was all Sybil could do to drag herself into her unfamiliar bedroom and collapse unconscious.

She awoke early, the morning light streaming into her bed and hitting her like a train. It was strange and exciting after having spent so long inside the artificially lit confines of a spaceship. She reveled in it- even though she had only slept for a few hours, there was no way she could remain unconscious, so she got out of bed and threw open her bedroom windows.

Their estate on Odin, though it was on the much more densely populated capital planet, was far enough from the capital city limits that all she could see out the window was a carefully tended garden that ended in thick forest not too far back. The Crawleys were a country family, through and through, even when they did come closer to the heart of civilization, and the estate here was well suited for hunting and fishing and all other good country entertainments. Sybil enjoyed a walk through the woods as much as the next person, but what she really wanted, no, needed, this moment was an excuse to get out of the house and see the rest of the world.

She dressed herself from the one trunk that had been hauled into the room for her the night before. She could have called for a maid to help, but she wanted a little bit of privacy to make a phone call. A new phone, one connected to the Odin planetary communications net, had been left in her room for her, and she picked it up and scrounged in her personal travel bag for the worn slip of paper on which she had written Magdalena von Westpfale's Odin number.

It was still very early, so Sybil had no idea if Maggie would answer, but she held her breath through four or five rings until the call connected and Magdalena's sleep-thick voice said, "Who is this?"

"Maggie! It's Sybil von Crawley- you told me to call you as soon as I got to Odin."

"I did?" There was a fumbling on the other end of the line, like Magdalena dropped the phone. "Right. I did. Sorry Sybil- ah-" There was further chaos from the other side of the call.

"You want me to call you back?"

"No- I- did you just come in?"

"Last night, but I fell right asleep."

Magdalena laughed, sounding now more awake and like herself. "You know I don't usually get up until nine, darling." Sybil glanced at the clock. It was quarter to eight.

"Sorry for waking you up- I just had to call right away before my family got themselves in proper shape."

"Are you saying that because you want to engineer an excuse to come out and see me?"

"Do you want me to?"

"I would love to speak with you, darling. I have a favor to ask you, in fact."

"What do you need?"

"Better talk in person," she said "Shall we meet for lunch? I know a lovely little spot."

"Yes- I'd love to." Sybil hesitated for a second. "I'll have to come up with some sort of excuse."

"You just got to Odin. You want to go shopping. Stretch your legs. See the sights."

"Without a chaperone?"

"Sybil, if you can't figure out how to escape your family for one afternoon, I don't know how you could possibly be my friend." She was teasing, and Sybil laughed. "You're welcome to bring one of your sisters, of course. I've been dying to catch up with all three of you."

"Gods, no. I've just been trapped on a ship with them for weeks. I love them, but we all need some space," she said.

"Tell that to your mother, then. She'll understand."

"Yeah," Sybil said. "Text me the address?"

"I will," Maggie said. "See you then, darling." And she hung up before Sybil had a chance to even say goodbye.

She slipped downstairs, finding the house eerily quiet, the unfamiliar cohort of servants staying well out of her way. She wandered through the large, empty rooms, admiring the way the golden morning light fingered the drapes on the windows and dappled the carpet in pools of warmth. She made her way to the dining room and found her father already at the table, a cup of coffee in one hand and the newspaper in the other, looking down at it and completely ignoring his breakfast. He looked up when Sybil walked in and smiled at her.

"Morning, my darling," he said. "You're up early."

"Morning, Papa. And it's not really early," Sybil said. "I'm surprised Mary and Edith aren't down already." She got herself some eggs and toast from the back table, then sat down.

"Let them sleep in," he said. "Your mother isn't awake yet, either."

"Why are you up, then?"

"Business," her father said. "I'd like to have a look at the estate, then I have to meet with my lawyer."

"I thought you had already taken care of all of the inheritance trouble."

"I thought so, too, but your Granny believes that there may be other options available, and she's going to make me go through them one by one before we give up just yet."

"Do you think Mary will be able to inherit Mama's fortune?"

"It's not really 'Mama's fortune' anymore, Sybil. It's part of the estate. It hasn't been in your mother's name since I married her."

Sybil sighed. "Mary isn't happy about it."

"No one is happy, except maybe the new heir," her father said, and shook out his newspaper. "I have to get in touch with him, as well."

"You haven't spoken to him?"

"A letter back and forth after Patrick died. But I haven't seen him in person since he was younger than you are. Now that we're on Odin, and he's to inherit from me, I have no excuse not to invite him around."

"What's he like?"

"I just told you, I don't know him," her father said. But even when he was grumpy, Sybil found him amusing.

"Alright, alright." She nibbled her toast. "Is Granny coming by?"

"For dinner tonight."

"Oh, I'm glad," Sybil said.

"Yes," her father said, though he sounded less enthusiastic by far.

"Aren't you glad to be on Odin?"

"It's going to be a busy season," he said by way of an answer. "I only hope your mother will not run me too ragged with it."

"Or Granny."

"Her, too," her father agreed.

"Papa?"

"Hm?"

"Could I go out to the city today?" Sybil asked.

"Whatever for? We just got here."

"Yes, exactly," Sybil said. "I'd love to do some shopping."

"Do your sisters want to go with you?"

"I hope not," Sybil said.

Her father laughed. "I don't much like you wandering around alone."

"It's just the city," Sybil said. "Safest place in the galaxy."

"Well, you're mother's not here to disagree with that assessment." He shuffled his newspaper. "If you must. Take the car and have the driver stay in eyeshot, I suppose."

That was a slight complication, but nothing she couldn't work around. "Thank you, Papa." She grinned at her father and finished her eggs.

Sybil found the driver outside waiting with the car, a shiny black beast, already idling. The driver was a stocky young man, a few years older than herself she guessed, with a a gregarious smile. His hair was light brown, and swept back over his round face.

"Herr Carson said you'd be wanting to go into the city, Fraulein." He held open the back door of the car for her, and she climbed inside.

"And did Herr Carson tell you that you would have to follow me around to make sure I didn't wander away like a lost little duckling?"

"That he did, Fraulein," the driver said as he got in the front.

"Am I likely to get terribly lost?"

"The capital's a big place," he said. "A lady like you, oh, you'd probably be fine if you knew where you were going."

"I suppose that is the problem," she said. "What's your name, by the way?"

"Tom," he said. "Tom Branson."

"Nice to meet you, Tom."

"Pleasure, I'm sure." He had his arm hooked around the headrest of the driver's seat, craning his neck to talk to her in the back. "Do you have a destination in mind?"

"I think so."

"Would love to hear it so I can take you there."

"Can you just start driving?" she asked, peering out the window back at the house. She had the sudden paranoia that one of her sisters was about to step out and stop her.

"Now, that feels to me like you're trying to get me to kidnap you."

"Are you going to object to that?"

"I do have some kind of obligation to keep you safe from harm," he said. "As long as you don't think you're about to walk into something dangerous, I'm happy to take you there."

"It's not dangerous," she said. "I'm meeting someone for lunch, but it's nowhere near lunch time."

Tom nodded and kicked the car into gear, pulling them slowly down the gravel drive until they entered the dark, tree-lined road. Sybil slumped back against the seat.

"May I ask who you're meeting?"

"It's not a secret boyfriend or anything like that," she said. "I suppose you'll have to know, but I'd prefer if you didn't tell my parents, or anyone else, for that matter."

"Meeting up with a group of republican revolutionaries, then?" She could see the amused twist of his lips in the rearview mirror; their eyes met.

"I wouldn't know the first thing about meeting up with revolutionaries," Sybil said. "Though it would be exciting. Don't tell my father I said that, either."

"Your excitement's safe with me, Fraulein."

She smiled at him. "No, I'm meeting the Baroness Westpfale," Sybil said. "My mother thinks she's too wild, but I like her."

"Too wild?"

"Oh, I don't know. I couldn't explain it if I tried- I don't really understand it myself. I think she's perfectly lovely."

"I see."

"And so do Mary and Edith, though they wouldn't say as much."

"Guess young people tend to like each other," Tom said. "Nothing unusual about that."

"I think you're right about that, Tom."

"Very happy to hear it. I do like to be right about things, on occasion."

Sybil had forgotten how long the trip into the city tended to take, so she didn't spend as much time wandering around aimlessly before her meeting with Magdalena as she had been worried that she would. She asked Tom what some of the more interesting sights were in the city, and they spent a very pleasant half hour or so strolling down the streets of the capital, Sybil admiring the various shops they passed. She didn't go in any of them, not really enthused about dragging her chauffeur dress shopping, but made mental notes of what the fashions were that were prominently displayed, and what she liked so that she could come back later.

"Do you want to go back to the car to go to the restaurant?" Tom asked her, as the time to meet Magdalena inched closer.

"It's a beautiful day. How far a walk is it?"

"Not far," Tom said. His look of concentration was rather endearing as he consulted his mental map of the area. "About four blocks. We'll go through Triangle Street."

"If you don't mind walking, then?" she asked.

"Fraulein, I may be a driver, but that doesn't mean my legs don't work. I doubt you're going to run me ragged."

She just laughed at him and headed further down the road. He pointed in the direction that they should go, leaving the busiest street. They didn't make much conversation for a little while, moving faster to make good time, but as they entered one more open area, a quiet, brick plaza surrounded by tall buildings, Tom said, "Here's Triangle Street." His voice had a strange quality to it, and it almost echoed through the desolate square.

Sybil glanced back at him. Tom had his hands in his pockets and was looking all around, eyes narrowed.

"Something special about it?" Sybil asked.

"Whole lot of people were killed here once," Tom said. "Republicans, some of them. Ordinary people though, mostly." The gravitas in his voice was completely at odds with the cheerful way he had been talking to her just a little while before.

"What happened?" Sybil lowered her own voice, matching his tone.

"'Course you wouldn't have heard about it."

"Tell me."

He gave her a sidelong glance, trying to judge how much she really cared. Sybil leaned forward, the picture of earnesty.

"The last Kaiser, he wanted to make a show of executing some republicans. Decided he would have it done in public. Don't know why it had to be a blood sport. Everything has to be a blood sport."

"Here?" Sybil asked, lifting her feet now as though there could be pools of blood underneath them.

"Here," Tom said. "But people had gotten used to this kind of thing not being a display. Things have been better since Rudolph's time, in some ways."

"What happened?"

"The crowd didn't like to see innocent men shot in the public square," Tom said. "Decent folks. They tried to put a stop to it. But that couldn't be allowed to happen." He pointed at one of the nearby walls, and suddenly Sybil could see pockmarks in the bricks, hundreds of them, places where the heat of blaster fire had vaporized thimble sized holes in the wall.

Sybil looked around, face drawn. "Nothing like that ever happened at home."

"No?" Tom asked. "You must be very lucky then." He didn't sound sincere. "Or at least lucky to have never had to hear about it."

Sybil didn't know what to say to that.

"Come on," Tom said. "You'll be late for your lunch with the baroness."

They trooped on in silence. Outside the restaurant, Tom said, "I'll go back and fetch the car while you have lunch. I trust you won't be kidnapped from inside."

"You're welcome to stay," Sybil said. "As appreciation for giving me the grand tour."

"It's not really my type of place," Tom said. "And you wouldn't want to be seen eating with me."

"Oh, come on," Sybil encouraged. "Maggie won't mind at all." She wasn't sure that was true, but she had been enjoying her conversation with Tom.

"I'll go get the car, Fraulein."

Sybil sighed, shook her head, and went in. Tom was right that the restaurant Magdalena had chosen was quite swanky. The place was decorated with heavy marble, and bright gold accents curled across the windows of every door. A long, flat fountain decorated to look like a river ran down the center of the restaurant, its slight burble still audible over the soft music. Sybil might have felt underdressed after her morning out strolling the town, but all thoughts of that wer immediately wiped away by seeing Magdalena seated across the way.

She was unusually pensive looking, staring into space, with one hand dangerously tilting a tall glass of some mixed drink, the other trailing fingertips in the fountain's rippling water. She didn't notice Sybil come in, even when she was led to Magdalena's table by the maitre d'. Magdalena jumped when Sybil got her attention by saying hello.

Magdalena stood up immediately, putting down her drink so that they could embrace.

"It's so good to see you again, darling." She kissed both Sybil's cheeks in greeting.

"It's good to see you, too, Maggie. How are you?"

"I feel like I've been running all over the place these past few days," she said. "And you waking me up early-" She tried to be chastizing, but her smile was infectious instead.

"Sorry about that," Sybil said. "I was just excited to talk to you."

"And of course I'm so wonderful to talk to, I could never blame you for wanting to do that."

Sybil laughed. "Thank you for taking the time to have lunch with me."

"Not at all," Magdalena said, waving her hand. "Besides, I did tell you that I was here to ask you to do me a rather large favor."

"Right, of course, whatever you need," Sybil said with a smile.

"A very good friend of mine told me recently that I shouldn't agree to do a favor without knowing what it is."

"Well, you should tell me what it is."

"Let's eat first. And you can tell me all about your trip here. It's been years since I was last on a ship, you'll have to remind me what it is like."

"Truly tedious," Sybil said. But she happily described the journey anyway, and Magdalena listened with her chin resting on her dainty wrist, head tilted in a rather indulging way, a few locks of her black hair resting on her cheek. She punctuated Sybil's stories of Edith and Mary's squabbling with laughter, and when Sybil had truly run out of things to say, over their lunch Magdalena described all the goings on in the capital- all the people Sybil knew who were courting each other, or feuding with each other, or planning to throw money at some ill-gotten scheme together. It all sounded deliciously exciting, and Sybil was again struck by how much she wanted to live in Magdalena's world, a permanent resident of Odin, rather than being the outsider only there for the season.

She said as much as they ate their desert, a light-as-air cake with creme fraiche and the juiciest strawberries that she had ever tasted.

"I don't know if you really want to be in the thick of it," Magdalena said. "The court is a den of serpents, in my opinion."

"You get along well enough."

Magdalena gestured with her fork. "I do well because no one can touch me. I do not have to depend on anyone but myself; I'm a baroness in my own right, I own my land and am not stupid enough to have lost all my fortune yet, and I have no meddlesome male relatives who wish to get into duels on my behalf. Even if I behave quite as badly as your mother thinks I do, the worst that people could do to me would be to stop speaking to me, and they'll never do that." She laughed. "I'm too entertaining to give up."

"I could live independently," Sybil said.

Magdalena wagged a finger. "You're far too innocent, my darling."

"I'm not!"

Magdalena smiled. "You are, because I'm about to ask you to do something that many people who live on Odin full time would die before they agreed to, and you're going to agree to it."

"What?" Sybil asked, putting her fork down.

"Or, not die, maybe, but they would probably be very professionally unpleasant about it, and I'm hoping that you won't be."

"Oh, don't string me along, Maggie- what do you need?"

"You remember I introduced you to Countess Grunewald, Annerose, when you were at Neue Sanssouci to be shown to the court?"

"Yes, of course," Sybil said. "I could hardly forget her." The countess, the Kaiser's current consort, was perhaps Edith's age. She was a quiet woman, and she had greeted Sybil with a soft voice. Next to the dark-haired Magdalena, Countess Grunewalde had been a golden sun. She was enchantingly beautiful, and even when she returned to the old Kaiser's side, her posture of deference making it clear she wanted to disappear into the background, Sybil couldn't stop looking over at her.

"She does tend to do that to people," Magdalena said.

"Why do you bring her up?"

"Because I'm trying to do her a favor that she doesn't yet realize she needs."

Sybil cocked her head. "What kind of favor."

"Do you know of her brother?"

"No," Sybil admitted. "Who's her brother?"

"Count Reinhard von Lohengramm," Magdalena said.

Sybil furrowed her brow. "But Countess Grunewald couldn't be married ."

Magdalena rolled her eyes. "The Kaiser gave them both new names and new titles. They were born Annerose and Reinhard von Musel."

"Oh," Sybil said. She hadn't ever heard of something like that happening before, but, then again, Maggie was right that out in the country, she had been isolated from the minute details of court life. Even if she had heard about such a thing, it probably would have slipped directly out of her mind.

"It was probably partially to be generous, and partially to put some distance between the two of them," Magdalena said. "Reinhard is quite, shall we say, attached, to his sister."

"I'm quite attached to my sisters," Sybil said in this stranger's defense. "That's hardly a crime."

"It is when your sister is His Majesty's chosen," Magdalena said. "Anyway, that's all beside the point. The thing is, both of the are, shall we say, unpopular at court."

"Why?"

"Because Annerose displaced the Kaiser's previous favorite, Marquise Benemunde, who was viewed rather favorably. And both of them came from nothing, in terms of what the court considers an acceptable background, and they've both made nuisances of themselves by seeming above the rest of things."

"I see," Sybil said.

"I was recently reminded that the Kaiser is quite old, and this means that someday in the near future, Annerose, who is my bosom friend, will lack his protection."

Sybil nodded.

"She'll only have her brother to rely on. And myself, of course. So, what I am attempting to do is get Reinhard to play nice with the rest of the court. When the day comes for them both to stand on their own, I don't want them to be immediately eaten alive."

"That seems reasonable."

"You would think so, wouldn't you? The problem is that he detests them all."

"It seems like half the members of the court hate each other, for one reason or another, to hear you say it."

"Of course they do. But they know how to pretend to be civilized. Count Lohengramm does not."

"I'm not sure what you're getting at. What do you need me to do?"

Magdalena steepled her fingers and looked across the table at Sybil. "Darling, Count Lohengramm is beautiful, rich, intelligent, and, most importantly, single. He's not going to want to marry either you or your sisters, but I would like for you to convince your father to invite him to your house so that your sisters can at least make a show of flirting with him."

"Why?"

"Quite simply, he needs to be trained to put up with it. And the rest of society needs to see that he can go to a party without standing in the corner and scowling, looking like he's figuring out the fastest way he could murder any given guest."

"Is he really that terrible?"

"No," Magdalena said with a laugh. "But almost."

"Do you like him?"

"Oh, I love him. Though I love his sister more." She smiled. "He's perfectly pleasant in any other circumstance than a party. You'd like him, too, I imagine."

"Alright," Sybil said. "How am I supposed to convince my parents to let him come?"

"Your parents are just as far out of the loop as you are, so at least they shouldn't already hate him." Magdalena tapped her chin in thought. "Your father was in the fleet, correct?"

"Yes, for a long time," Sybil said. "I think he regrets retiring."

"Perfect. Reinhard is His Majesty's most talented admiral. I'm sure your father would be thrilled to meet him."

"I'll see what I can do. Mary has convinced my parents to hold some kind of party- I'll make sure he's on the invitation list."

Surprisingly earnest, Magdalena leaned forward and took Sybil's hand across the table. "Thank you, darling. I appreciate it more than you know."

Sybil had hoped to get back home and get ready for dinner without any fanfare (or her sisters asking where she had been), but when Tom drove her up to the front of the house, she saw another car already in the driveway, and her grandmother getting out of it. This was not exactly a surprise, but it was exiting. Sybil hopped out of the car before Tom could even turn off the engine, and she ran up to her grandmother.

"Granny! I thought you weren't going to be here until dinner time." Her grandmother looked about the same as Sybil remembered: the same short and spindly frame, the same austere lined face. She clutched the head of her cane, but still seemed sprightly as she greeted Sybil.

"My dear, I'm always exactly on time. I didn't want to wait to see you all, after you've left me alone here for so long." She looked Sybil over, head to toe. "Where did you just come from?"

"I've been out in the city," Sybil said.

"By yourself?"

"Papa had Tom keep an eye on me." She pointed out Tom, who heard his name and tipped his hat politely to the dowager.

"And what were you doing in the city with Tom's watchful eye upon you?"

"Shopping," she lied.

Her grandmother peered around her and took a look at the car, from which nothing was being unloaded. "Is that so? What did you buy?"

Hasty to change the subject, Sybil said, "We should go inside. Everyone will be so happy to see you."

"I was hoping to have a nice long talk with your father before dinner," she said.

Their arrival had now been noticed by the servants, so Carson was at the door to let them in. They stepped inside.

"What did you want to talk to him about?" Sybil asked, though she knew the answer.

"The future of you and your sisters," her grandmother said. "Where is your father?"

"In the library, m'lady," Carson said.

Her grandmother nodded and set off down the hall, Sybil following at her heels. Just as Carson was about to open the library door and announce them, the dowager said, "You ought to get changed for dinner."

"But-"

Her grandmother was not going to brook any disagreement, and gave Sybil a severe look. "It will be more pleasant for us all to speak again at dinner time."

"Yes, Granny," Sybil said, though she was frowning.

Carson opened the library door and stepped inside. "The Dowager Countess, milord."

"Mama," Sybil could hear her father say. "I wasn't expecting you until dinner."

"Is that so?" her grandmother could be heard to ask as Carson shut the door behind them both, leaving himself and Sybil in the hallway.

"I wish I could hear what she's going to say to Papa," Sybil said to Carson.

"Let us hope that she says something in Lady Mary's favor, m'lady," Carson replied.

"She will. But Mary will be alright even if she doesn't, you know."

"I'm sure, m'lady." But with Carson's dour voice, Sybil couldn't really tell if he believed it or not.

As expected, dinner that night was a somewhat fraught affair. Aside from the dowager, there weren't any guests, but that only meant that Mary and Edith had more free rein to snip at each other. They apparently hadn't taken the chance, as Sybil had, to spend the day as far apart from each other as possible, or, if they had, it hadn't done anything to improve their spirits.

"How was your talk with the lawyer today, Robert?" Sybil's mother, Cora, asked as they began eating. She was trying to smile nicely, but it was a pointed question.

"Informative," her father said.

"I'm sure," the dowager cut in. "But he was informing you of things that you already knew. I hope you will take my concerns into consideration."

"What were you speaking to Papa about this afternoon?" Mary asked, lifting her wine glass and looking astutely between her grandmother and father.

"I would like your father to enlist the services of a Phezzani property lawyer," the dowager said. "Your mother's fortune was Phezzani to begin with; I see no reason why it shouldn't become Phezzani again, so that you could inherit it."

"Gods," Mary said. "Are you trying to make me an expatriate?"

"Your mother is one," the dowager said. "But just because money is on Phezzan, there's no reason you would have to live there."

"I thought that there were laws against moving money to Phezzan to avoid the estate tax?" Edith said.

"This is why Robert should contact a reputable Phezzani lawyer," the dowager said.

"Mama, can we discuss this later?" Robert asked.

"I don't see why we shouldn't discuss this now," Mary said. "After all, it's going to determine how exactly I spend my time this season, and you weren't willing to discuss it on the ship here."

"Mary," her mother said. "Please moderate your tone."

"So I shall not even have a token say in how my future will be decided?" Mary asked.

Robert put down his fork. "Mary- this isn't about trying to deprive you of your inheritance."

"It certainly feels like it is."

"If we do as your Granny suggests, and we move a vast sum of money to Phezzan, the Grantham estate will no longer be able to function," Robert said, his voice hard. He looked directly at Cora as he said this. "I have a responsibility, not just to Mary, but to every employee of this house, every tenant on our land, all the previous members of this family who have safely shepherded the estate through in one piece, and the crown. I cannot abandon those responsibilities. Splitting Cora's fortune and sending it to Phezzan would be cutting off the estate's legs, and I cannot do that."

There was a deathly silence for a second, then Mary said, "But you'd abandon my future."

"I am not abandoning anything!" Robert raised his voice. "Least of all my daughter."

Mary, though clearly not cowed, dropped the subject, raising her wine glass to her lips so that she wouldn't say anything more. In the awkward silence that followed, Cora said, "How was your trip into the city, Sybil?"

"Oh, it was lovely," Sybil said.

"What did you do there?" Edith asked. "You could have taken me along."

"You would have been bored," Sybil said. "I mostly walked around to see what the fashions are this season. Tom made sure I didn't get too lost."

"Tom?" Mary asked.

"Our new driver," Cora supplied. "I'm glad you had a good time."

Sybil spotted an opportunity to get her family to agree to the favor Magdalena wanted. "I've definitely made some notes about the kind of outfit I'd like to wear to the party that we'll be hosting."

"Party?" the dowager asked. "What kind of party?"

"Just a dinner, maybe some dancing. It's to gather all of Mary's potential suitors in one place, so they squabble over each other and kill each other off," Edith said. "We discussed it on the trip."

"I don't have any potential suitors yet," Mary said.

"Every single man of the right age and stature is a potential suitor, my dear," the dowager said. "And we certainly are not in short supply of those. But what about the new heir? Have you given up on him so soon? He might be as suitable of a match as Patrick was, and that would save your father from having to choose between his real child, and the estate that he feels is his child."

"I haven't properly met the man," Mary said haughtily. "And I don't know why you believe that he would have any desire to mary me out of pity for my lack of prospects."

"There will be plenty of people we can have come," Sybil said, trying to diffuse the situation and get a word in edgewise. "I've been thinking that there are some people I'd like to invite."

"Who do you have in mind?" Cora asked, happy to play into continuing to change the topic.

"I was thinking- when I came out I met Countess Grunewald- I'd like to meet her brother, Admiral Lohengramm; she spoke so well about him."

Her grandmother gave Sybil a look. "My dear, there are more suitable matches for you than he."

"Why?" Sybil asked. "What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing's wrong with him," the dowager said, looking like she was licking a slice of lemon. "But all he is is a pretty face, much like his sister."

"I thought he was quite successful in the fleet," Sybil protested. "Papa, wouldn't you like to meet His Majesty's most talented young admiral?"

"You're so desperate to invite this man you've never met," Mary said. "I can't imagine why."

"I'm rather curious about him myself," Edith said. "I've seen his picture in the news. He does stir the imagination."

"And wouldn't he look quite foolish, standing next to someone like you at a party?" Mary asked.

"Mary, that's quite enough," Cora said.

"I have nothing against inviting Admiral Lohengramm," Robert said. "We'll have to put together a full list. Do you have any other suggestions, Mama?"

"Heavens, you suddenly care about my opinion of the court." The dowager looked at her granddaughters consideringly. "You liked the Duke of Crowsburg when you met him last season, did you not, Mary? He should be on the list."

"I did rather like him," Cora said. "He made a charming impression."

"Fine," Mary said. "Invite whomever you like." She folded her napkin and placed it next to her plate.

"Edith? What about you?" her mother asked.

"We will invite the new heir, won't we?" Edith asked.

Mary laughed. "You'll try your hand at him, will you?"

"Since you seem intent on making life difficult for yourself, yes, I will," Edith said.

"Of course we'll invite Cousin Matthew," Cora said. "Though we should meet him before hand, if he's not too busy."

"Too busy?" the dowager asked. "Why would he be too busy to come meet the family he is going to inherit from?"

"He's a lawyer, Mama," Cora said. "I expect he has obligations."

"A lawyer? What would he be that for?"

Robert looked exhausted. "He had no intention of inheriting anything before Patrick died," he said. "His father was a doctor. I believe they're middle class, of some fashion."

"How dreadful," the dowager said. "Yes, you must invite him here before you bring him to any kind of party. Make sure he knows how to behave himself, so that he doesn't embarrass the family in front of whatever esteemed guests you choose to invite."

"I'm sure he wouldn't, Granny," Sybil said. "I look forward to meeting him, really."

Sybil found Mary as she was getting ready for bed that night, having Anna take down her hair and brush it out so that it fell in long, dark waves down her back. Sybil sat on the edge of her bed.

"Are you really determined to make this whole thing difficult for Papa?" Sybil asked.

"He seems determined to make it difficult for me," Mary said.

"He doesn't mean to."

"It doesn't matter what he means to do." She put her hands down flat on her dressing table and turned to Sybil. "I don't think you understand, really. I have to lose the home I grew up in, everything I've ever thought was mine, to give it to some middle class lawyer I've never met, for no reason other than that Papa refuses to fight for me." She scowled. "If he was determined, he would find some way to make this Cousin Matthew a landless peer, detach the title from the estate."

Sybil was silent.

"What?" Mary asked. "Don't look at me like that."

"You know, Mary," Sybil said, "Edith has had quite the opportunity to gloat at you, and she hasn't."

"Why should I care what Edith says?"

"Your prospects have changed, but hers and mine haven't. We two were never going to inherit anything, and would have always had to leave the estate someday," Sybil pointed out. "You could accept it with a little bit more grace."

Mary's eyes narrowed. "Don't try to be the better person about this. I won't be able to bear it."

"I'm not trying to be," Sybil said. "I just think that you would be happier if-"

"The last thing anybody seems to care about is my happiness."

"That's not true. I care."

Mary's mouth pressed into a thin line. "Goodnight, Sybil."

Sybil stood. "Goodnight."

Author's Note

i'm not entirely sure how well i'm doing with the various characterizations of DA people, but I hope I'm doing a satisfactory job. i'm having a lot of fun writing this very silly fic, anyway. so i hope you are also enjoying reading it

for all my logh readers- there were a lot of new faces in this chapter lol. do you think i should put like a "who are all these people" section up in the author's notes before the chapter? hopefully it's all clear without that but if you need clarification please do let me know. (DA readers, if you are confused also please let me know)

hiiiiii maggie ilu

tom takes sybil to the same place that martin takes kircheis, hilde, and maggie to in ch14 of Servants of the Pharaoh. welcome to the noodle cinematic universe baybeeee.

thomas will return next chapter, i promise. (arrival of the next chapter of this fic will be after my next chapter(s) of Lighting Out for the Territories so don't expect it very soon)

thank you very much for reading :3 i'd love to hear what you think! you can find me on tumblr javert , on twitter natsinator , and you can read the rest of my fic here on ao3 (a wheel inside a wheel (series), like this fic, is readable with 0 knowledge of legend of the galactic heroes!) or find links to my original fiction at gayspaceopera. carrd. co