It's been a bit, but I'm back again!

For everyone who was wondering about the 8th child, it is Dan. They're counting both him and Jazz.

Thank you for your reviews!

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Chapter 240: Affairs of State

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"Okay, I've got to ask," said Tucker. "Does this make me a ghost prince, too?"

"You're already a pharaoh, don't get greedy," Ellie, tapping the back of Tucker's head. "I can't believe your parents are on the Regency Council. They're so," she groped for words. "Normal."

"You're lucky Sam isn't here," said Danny, jokingly. "She'd wash your mouth out for saying such a dirty word. But, you know… I think that technically makes you my brother, now. Like, officially, rather than just spiritually. So, no fake-out make-outs."

"Foster brother. The rules are completely different."

"Is this flirting?" asked Damien.

"No, no," said Danny. "This is teasing. Teasing is completely different."

"I don't think it is," said Ellie. "Are you cheating on Sam, Danny?"

"We aren't dating," said Danny, having suffered enough.

"Not yet," said Tucker.

"Tucker, I'm a semi-immortal half human who has shown no signs of aging over the past three years. I'm not really dateable."

"Well, Sam and I aren't going to live forever, Danny."

"That. That is the point," said Danny, who had gone several shades paler at that reminder and was now trying not to be sick. He didn't want to think about the relative fragility of his friends. About how, someday, they might leave him.

"No, no, I mean, we're going on that pilgrimage thing at some point. So. You know. Given all of time, I'm pretty sure you and Sam will date at some point."

"Oh," said Danny. "You know, I had forgotten about that."

"Kinda figured. We've been through a lot since then."

"I remembered it," said Damien. "Does the sibling code mean that I have to bother Tucker, too?"

"Who's been teaching you this stuff?" asked Danny.

"You."

"Ah, well. Carry on then."

A wisp zoomed into the room, sparkling with sound.

"And it sounds like they're ready for me," he said, standing. "See you guys later. Don't give Damien too much candy."

"What? Why not?"

Danny stuck out his tongue. "Sibling code," he said.

Then he slipped out the door and put on his serious face. It was time to talk to the Regency Council.

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"Alright," said Danny, "so… how do we start this? I mean, what is the whole, um, point of this whole… Regency Council… thing."

The present meeting of the Regency Council was being held in one of Libra's spare meeting rooms (they suddenly had a lot of those, now that Danny's custody hearing was over), as Danny could not leave until the trial of the captive GIW agents was over. Danny was feeling remarkably awkward, overall, considering what he had been through recently and the fact that he was well acquainted with (almost) all the people at the table.

"Well," said Frostbite. "We listen to what you want, then determine whether or not it's feasible, and how to implement it. Or if it should be implemented. We also take care of various minutiae of running the government, such as it is, and make the various decisions that you would normally make if you were King in full."

"So, at this point, I'm just sort of… an advisor?"

"Yes. Of course, you do have the authority to appoint persons to the empty seats on the council, although we will nominate people for you to choose from. Which is what we are starting with today."

"Before that, uh… Why are we here?" asked Maurice Foley, holding up his hand.

Mr. Lancer was taking notes and looking rather pale, having apparently appointed himself as secretary while Danny wasn't paying attention.

"Because you are the young king's guardians," said the singular Magician in a thin, spectral voice. They were one of the few people here whom Danny didn't know well.

"Prince," said Danny. "We decided on prince."

"The words have the same meaning," said Moneta.

"Not to me," said Danny, "not emotionally."

"Regardless!" boomed Frostbite, enthusiastically. "The guardians of the monarch always have seats on the Regency Council."

"But," said Angela, "we're human."

"Humanity is temporary," said Nephthys, cheerfully. "How old are you two, anyway? Forties, right? You're halfway through your natural lifespan."

"Aunt Nephthys, that really isn't something you should just say to people."

"I'm the Ancient Master of Death and Change, what else do you expect me to talk about?"

Danny cleared his throat. "Right, so… what do I need to do? We're picking more people for the council here, right?"

"Yes, Great One," said Frostbite. "We have some nominations for you to look at for the at-large positions, but we don't expect you to make a snap decision."

"Okay," said Danny, putting the stack of paper he was given to one side and hoping that there were at least a few people he recognized in there. Like Dora, maybe. He should also consider finding a few people who were culturally Asian and Indian, because at the moment the council was heavily weighted towards the Egyptian and Greco-Roman. Of course, that came with problems like what type of Asian and Indian, because the khanate-aligned were probably the most powerful faction, but they weren't very well liked, and they were also very enthusiastic about the whole golden horde thing and—

Hold up. He… didn't know any of that. Or, at least, he shouldn't. What?

On the whole, he would have preferred it if his 'heir to the throne' powers (he wasn't king yet) were not mind affecting, but he hadn't held out much hope, if he was being honest with himself. Ghosts were both more rigid and more malleable than humans, and although there was certainly a limit to plasticity, Danny hadn't found his yet.

"So, diplomacy?" asked Danny.

"Diplomacy-adjacent," said Clockwork.

"We need to pick a First of Generals," said Frostbite.

"In the Greek, they would be called the strategos," added Pandora.

"I thought Fright Knight managed the armies."

"The thrall armies, my lord," agreed Fright Knight, performing a small bow with his upper body, "yes. But not those of free-thinking ghosts."

"Unfortunately, most suitable candidates are either sworn to other, lesser rulers, such as myself," said Pandora, "or they are rulers in their own right, and fairly self-serving. The first is dangerous, due to the split in loyalty. The second lends itself to similar problems."

"That gives us a very short list to work with," said Frostbite. "Nevertheless, before engaging in serious diplomacy, the ability to fall back on force of arms is necessary." The other rulers and leaders on the Regency Council, tiger included, nodded.

Danny opened his mouth, closed it again, then felt his lips twist almost sardonically. "Why do I feel like this is a lead up to Skulker being on your short list?"

The tiger purred. "Because the young king is very wise, and I wish to have a rematch with the hunter."

"Look on the bright side," said Nephthys, "the First of Generals is the most fireable position on the Regency Council."

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"Excuse me," said Hemlock, who was in the initial committee fir the trial of the captive GIW agents. "If I may make a proposal, gentlefolk. To preface this, neither I nor my client have friendship for these men and women as a group, nor even sympathy. However, my client is concerned about the ghosts who were taken prisoner by the humans only a few days ago. It is his wish that I convey to this committee the request that these men be kept available, at least in the short term, for the purpose of prisoner exchange."

Hemlock bowed to Themis and the committee at large and sat back down as the debates started up. Doubtless, a speedy initial committee had been expected. Most advocates not attached to the accused had been agitating for simple trial-by-combat or trial-by-ordeal. Danny had vaguely made noises about making sure the agents' trial was fair, and something about a jury, but that's all they had been.

Hemlock doubted anyone else had even that much.

Libra was fair. More than, in many ways. But Hemlock knew that many humans would be horrified by it. By the structure and lack thereof, by the sentences handed down, by the sentences not handed down.

No. Many humans were horrified by it. He had seen their faces, at Phantom's trial.

Their loss, he supposed. For all humankind's vaunted flexibility, their systems could be awfully rigid.

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"Alright," said Danny. "We're going to have Skulker be the general for now. What happens with what I've been doing so far? The letters to the president and all that?"

"The what?" asked Moneta. "You haven't promised him any money, have you?"

"I haven't promised him anything," said Danny, frowning.

"Have they promised you money?"

"No?" said Danny. "Is there something about the treasury that we should know about?" asked Danny.

"Is that a trick question?"

"It wasn't supposed to be," said Danny.

Moneta went back to scratching at her clipboard.

"You didn't answer the question," he said. "Are we, like, broke, or something?" Which was kind of ridiculous on the face of it because ghosts rarely actually needed money.

"No," said Moneta.

Danny decided to drop it. The crows tittered.

"The next step is putting together a real delegation and beginning to lay the groundwork to send the delegation," said Frostbite. "I believe you had some thoughts regarding composition already."

"Yeah," said Danny, "I was hoping that Sojourn would go, and also hopefully at least one person from Amity and one person from Harmony. I haven't really asked for volunteers yet, though… I was kind of hoping Jazz would do it."

"From Amity Park?" asked the Magician. "Whyever would you want someone from there? It is a human city, is it not?"

Danny slowly turned to look at the Magician, who must have been spending their unlife under a rock. "Amity Park is mine," he said.

The Magician blinked first.

"That's a good start," said Clockwork.

"But you need more than three people," said Pandora.

"Especially if one of them is human," added Nephthys. "You know who'd be good—"

"We are not sending Dan on a diplomatic mission," said Clockwork.

"But it'd be funny," protested Nephthys.

Mr. Lancer cleared his throat. "Who is Dan, exactly? I didn't entirely understand his, ah, explanation during the trial. At least not as it was relayed to me by my lawyer."

"Advocate," corrected Themis.

"Ah," said Danny. "Long story. I'll tell you later?"

The Tiger looked intrigued. The Ancients and Themis all started to shake their heads.

"Jazz would be more there to provide backup if anti-ghost weaponry was brought into play, actually," said Danny, taking up his previous point. "Not that I'm expecting her to fight an army or anything." He waved his hand, then went pale. "Maybe not Jazz, actually, um. Fighting an army is an option here… Diplomacy is dangerous…" He looked up at the ceiling, trying to divine a better option.

He couldn't. There wasn't anyone better than Jazz, not to mention the traditional diplomatic move of sending a relative of the ruling monarch to indicate trust.

"Ellie might be good, too, but she's a kid and looks like it. Jazz at least is an adult… But she doesn't have as many defenses, if she's attacked. I'd worry. Who else can I send?"

"That's why we're here, Great One, to help you decide."

"Technically, we're here to decide for him," corrected Nephthys. "Details are important."

"I have something that might help your decision," said Themis. "I don't suppose you remember the sword Issitoq used?"

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Alicia did not know what was going on.

She'd half expected to be shanghaied to some secret government prison, all things considered (mostly the guns, the appearance of being allied with the undead, etcetera). She had not expected to be brought to Washington DC. Or, more specifically, the White House.

Was she still handcuffed? Was she brought into he building through what could only be described as a secret passage in the dead of night? Yes and yes.

Was she confused as all hell?

Also, yes.

As mentioned, she did not know what was going on.

But she was definitely in the White House. She'd watched enough documentaries on the American Government (usually the only thing that was on the local channel) and CSPAN to know what it looked like. Greek revival architecture. Too many oil paintings. Weird art on pedestals. Strange hallway choices. Design features from time periods spread across the better part of two centuries. Carpets faded from people walking on them with shoes on.

Oh, yeah, and the Secret Service.

She was escorted to an unoccupied room and made to wait there under guard. At one point, someone brought her a sandwich, a water bottle, and a bag of Lays chips. The bag of chips was even more full of air than usual, and the sandwich was dry, but Alicia was hungry.

Also unnerved. She was tough. She could survive indefinitely in the wilderness given a knife and sufficient water. Well. The wilderness around her home, in any case. She'd faced down monsters and men. She'd been to prison (briefly).

But this? This was weird. This she had no frame of reference for.

A man in a military uniform – a high-ranking one, Alicia thought, but she wasn't an expert – came into the room.

"You're Alicia Walker?"

"I am," she said, feeling self-conscious of her slight accent for the first time in years.

"Madeline Fenton is your sister."

"That's right," said Alicia, starting to get a feel for why she was here.

"Were you working with the ghosts that attacked the GIW facility?"

"No, sir. I had my own beef with those guys. The ghosts just showed up same time as we did. Like I told your guys." She gathered a bit of boldness back to herself. "I also asked your guys for a lawyer, if I recall correctly."

"We'll arrange one for you."

"I'd like to do that myself, all things considered," said Alicia.

"This isn't an interrogation."

"Isn't it?"

"We need to know what you know about ghosts," said the man. "Your family studies them. They didn't seem to scare you. Tell us what you know about ghosts, and we can arrange for you to be pardoned for your activities regarding the GIW."

"And my neighbors?"

"We can see what we can do."

"Alrighty then. I'm going to really need that lawyer."