Anastasia Hoshin was probably the most unremarkable of the Candidates for the 42nd Ruler of the Kingdom of Lugnica. She wasn't divinely blessed by this world and she wasn't any manner of Demi-Human. There was also the fact that she didn't quite look her age, her body was slender and not the kind that would generally turn heads. Her most noteworthy feature, her lavender hair, was well cared for and brushed out. It reached almost to her butt at its current length, but she wondered if she would need to cut it before the meeting at the castle in a few days.

The things that she did have were mostly of her own making. She was one of the richest women on the continent mostly by her own determination, to her that was much more telling of the kind of person that she was and what she could do than someone who had magic talent and passed down blessing.

Though she didn't have any issue with those around her who had those things and could lend her a hand.

One of her servants opened the door wide and poked his head in through the doors, the brown strands of his hair flopping down over his face. "Miss Hoshin, there's a merchant here to see you—it seems that he has some kind of a negotiation offer for something he thinks you would rather like," the man said.

"Oh goody," she said.

"Do you want me to go ahead and—wait what?"

"If I turned away everyone who was my competition without hearing them out I would probably still be living on the street," Anastasia said. "Now shoo, go and fetch them. Thank you."

The attendant closed the door and stopped back out in the long lavish hall that led up to the room where Anastasia was staying. This manor, situated in the middle of the financial district of the town had been for sale and vacant for some time.

A rich old man who had owned it before passed and had no one to give his things to, so she was able to rent the place fully furnished for almost nothing and since she was in the heart of Lugunica much of the money she was spending on the place was made back through connections and dealings.

She shook the mug at her side, watching the beer inside of it foam from the disturbance.

"You should at least have them send up some of the members of the Iron Fang with this merchant." The spirit that hid itself, wrapped around Anastasia's neck and pretending to be a scarf spoke.

"No one would come up here to kill me. And no one knows about you—if they wanted to end me they would do it in the street or one of the bars I frequent. There's no good way out of here."

A few seconds after Anastasia replied there was a knock at the door. The spirit was a guarded secret of hers, not even her closest companions knew of it.

"Miss Anastasia," the attendant said. "I have here Otto, Miss Kate Bishop, and—" the attendant paused to glance over at the bipedal raccoon. "—Rocket."

Anastasia leaned out over her desk some, her green eyes moving over the three people in front of her. She smiled, nodding her head. "I see," she said. "I've met you before, Otto—though it has been some time."

Otto looked to his two companions. "We've had dealings in the past," he replied, though his tone implied something else was going on.

"Aww," Kate said.

"Wait—are we here for some kind of love confession thing?" Rocket started. "You're not going to talk me into helping you get laid. No way!"

"I told you two to let me do the talking," Otto said.

Rocket swung his arms out to his sides. "I can talk whenever I want."

Anastasia smiled deeper as she talked and her tone was as chipper and friendly as ever. "We have a saying in Kararagi," she began. "Spend words as efficiently as money. Right now, whatever it is that you're offering, you are spending all your time and losing the potential money you could be getting from me."

The three of them froze. Otto removed his hat, crinkling it in his hands in front of himself. "We apologize. It's just that we found something that belongs to you. Your guards wouldn't allow us to bring it up, but I have a copy of the manifest."

Otto took a few cautious steps forward holding the manifest from the crates that he had taken that belonged to her. It was folded in half long ways so that when he handed it to her that their hands never came close to touching. She took the paper from him and unfurled it. Her green eyes scanned the page and then wide.

"Where did you find this?" She asked.

It was Rocket who spoke up this time, despite being told not to he couldn't contain himself. "There was a trade outpost west of town about half a day out." As he stepped forward, he reached between his legs scratching himself without regard for where he was or who he was in front of. "Place was a ghost town."

"West of town—you mean the Sunset Gate," Anastasia said. "That place is always staffed."

"That's the thing: there were carriages, carts, uneaten food—but no people," Otto explained.

"I've been going through there as long as I've been coming into the city here," Anastasia said.

Kate raised her hand, as if she were in a classroom. "Can you name any of the people that man the place?"

Anastasia wanted to say yes, but then she thought about it. As she tried to picture her memories of the place she could. But there weren't people behind the counters or attending the stables. She could remember meeting business partners, eating with her crew there. But it was like there was a hole where there should have been people.

"No doubt you're experiencing the same thing that I did," Otto said.

She glanced down at the bill of sale. "I don't even know who I sent with this—but I remember the sentiment, yes. I had a buyer for these in the city." Anastasia stroked her chin. "I can't be seen with this, but there may be a way that you can help me with something here. Call it repayment."

"Then can you buy some of my oil?" Otto asked.

"No. Why would I want oil? I need you to represent me and transport the crates you found to the home of Lady Crusch Karsten," Anastasia said.

"Wait, the Crusch Karsten? What for?"

"Because I can't be seen with her doing business right now do. The politics of the situation are volatile, especially this close to an announcement," she explained.

"But you just picked him because he's the one who waltzed in here?" Kate asked.

"I picked him because despite his appearances he has a reputation for being a fair merchant. He won't rob me, because he knows what's good for him, and he probably won't embarrass me either."

Otto accepted the bill of sale from her and shuffled back into line next to Rocket and Kate.

"Now then, please be on and don't try to peddle any of your gross oil to my people," Anastasia said swiping her hand at them dismissively.

As they exited the chamber she could hear Rocket mouthing off at Otto. "Grow a pair of balls, you're going to let her walk all over you like that?"

While much of the capital was on edge and the government was on its way to gearing up for a Royal Selection event, Crusch had been buying up all of the weapons and troops that weren't already spoken for. Even some of Anastasia's own men were propositioned and that was how she first found out. Sure, most of the hiring had been done via proxy so as not to raise suspicions, but it didn't take much work for a person like Anastasia to figure it out.

Crusch was planning something and, knowing the kind of patriotic loyalist she was, it was probably something for the good of the Kingdom and to prove herself to them. Anastasia had no intention of stopping her, but maybe she could force her rival into a temporary partnership so that the benefits of whatever her plan was worked in both their favors.

It brought back memories of the first day in the mansion, following behind Rem and Ram as they walked May to her room. He had thought to tell the maids that he would handle it himself as the room was right near his, but he figured that they would tell him some thing about how it was their duty to do this kind of thing or obligations or something.

Ram's usually callous attitude was reduced to being a slightly prickly one. With a wave of her hand in the direction of the door she spoke. "Right here is where you will be staying, Miss Parker. Peter is to the left, Steve across the hall and to your right. And a little ways down is Lady Emilia's room."

While her sister was explaining all of this, Rem stepped forward to open the door to the room and was surprised to see that instead of the quaint bedroom that was supposed to be here there was an expansive library. There was no way that between there the hallway was and the outside of the house that this kind of room could have occupied this space and yet here it was.

"What is happening?" Before anyone could warn her or explain May stepped through the door into the library, she twirled as she walked through the room looking at all of the books.

Peter chased in after. "May, this isn't the room. We need to—"

"Well who is this?" May passed along side Peter headed down one of the aisles toward a little girl with her blond hair done up in curled twin tails and blue eyes that had an almost stamp-like butterfly pattern in them. The girl was reading and only glanced up for a split second before looking back down at her book. "You're just a little darling, your dress is amazing. What's your name?"

The girl stared up at May. "Betty hasn't gotten used to everyone barging into her library in fact."

"Oh, let me apologize then, Betty. I'm May Parker, Peter's Aunt," she explained.

Rem and Ram waited at the door, peering in from opposite sides with their bangs swept toward their respective sides of the entry. Peter was just about to warn May, to tell her that they had to leave.

Then Beatrice surprised him. "It's nice to meet you, I suppose. Hard to believe that you're this noisy boy's family," she said.

May leaned in, covering the side of her mouth with the back of her hand like she was whispering some vital secret. "He is very noisy, isn't he?"

"Yes, in fact," Beatrice said. And then she went back to flipping through her book.

What was happening here? Peter had never seen Beatrice not being upset that someone had entered the library. When it became apparent that nothing bad was going to happen, Peter took May by the arm and explained to her as best he could.

"Beatrice has a kind of magic that's called door crossing. The physical space of the library exists within the house, but she can move the entry way to replace any door in the manor," Peter said.

"Like that old Scooby Doo gag?" May asked.

"More like if you had a smaller bubble on the outside of a larger bubble that you could steer to different spots on the bubble," he corrected her.

May waved her hands about her as she spoke. "Oh…yeah, I don't know what you mean." As they exited the doors she waved. "It was nice meeting you, Betty."

The maids closed the doors too quickly for them to hear Beatrice's reply, if she gave one. When they reopened the doors this time it was actually the room that it was supposed to be. Though the general furnishing were similar to Peter's room, the bed was sat between the windows on the outside wall and the space between said windows was wider.

"These will be your accommodations for the night," Rem said.

"It certainly is nice, isn't it?" May commented. "You two take care of all of this place by yourselves?"

Rem pressed her hands into her lap, her cheeks blushing furiously. "I actually handle about sixty-five percent of the workload around here, my sister isn't really as adept at those sorts of chores," Rem said.

"Oh, so I'm guessing that you take care of the outside of the house more or the cooking?" Asked May.

Ram nodded. "Though my dear sister excels at those things more than myself, also."

May shot them a polite smile and then turned to Peter. "I hope that you're not leaving these young women a lot of messes to clean up after," she said.

"N-no, it's not like that all." Peter waved his hands in front of himself trying to ward of anything accusation. He was glad that May was safe and that she was here, but he needed to distract her from picking on him. "Um, hey Rem, it's been a while since I have seen Steve, where is he?"

Rem clasped her hands, her smile growing from the one made out of obligation to one of sheer joy. "Steve was working out near the tree line at the rear of the house. I took him water a while ago and he had become quite sweaty. I suggested that he take a break and work on his reading some," she said and then bowed.

After giving May a little bit of time to settle in, Peter had Rem take them out to where she had last seen Steve. He was perched on the stump of a downed tree with a book in his lap and some papers in his hands that he was looking over and comparing something too. Next to him, leaning against the stump was the shield that Roswaal had given him.

As they approached, Peter called out to him. "You look like some kind of a warrior poet."

Steve, who had surely heard someone approaching before that, glanced up and then got onto his feet. A smile overtook his face and he placed the papers into the book the mark his spot.

"Pete, Miss Rem," after saying her name he gave a little nod and waited a beat, as if giving her a moment of extra consideration. Then he turned to May and offered out his hand. "Steve Rogers."

"May Parker," she said, accepting his hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Miss—wait May Parker? As in Peter's Aunt?"

May rand her fingers through her thick dark hair and chuckled. "So Peter's been talking about me—I hope only good things."

Peter looked from his aunt to Peter and then back to his aunt. "Da-ja-uh, hey, so yeah she was pulled here like us or…whatever and she said that she wasn't the only one."

"Right," May said, as if she only just remembered the other two people from their own world who were here. "Sam and James were working with Lady Crusch, too."

"Bucky and Sam are here?" Steve asked.

May nodded her head. "They both have some stories about you," she let out a small chuckle, this one was more genuine.

Steve didn't seem to know what to say, he had clearly been missing some piece of home, they both had, and it seemed like all at once they had something to make being in this other world just a little more bearable.

It was Rem who spoke to him first. "Is anything the matter, Captain Rogers?" Rem asked.

Steve looked at her. "No, ma'am, everything's going to be just dandy I think," Steve said. "How would you like to meet my oldest pal in the world, Bucky."

"Oh, I think that would be delightful," Rem said.

"Do you think Roswaal and Emilia would mind if I took a trip into the city or—"

"No need, we're all going for the Royal Selection," said Peter.

May paced around to one side of them, looking both Peter and Steve over. "I came here as a representative of one of the other candidates," she explained. "There is some big announcement happening in a few days and they need the candidates there."

"And I am guessing that in needing them there we're needed too," Steve said.

"I shall ask Master Roswaal what all need to be prepared for the trip," Rem said.

"Wait, will the house be left unattended?" Asked Peter.

"Miss Beatrice and my sister will remain behind, they are more than enough to ward off anything that might come their way."

Steve gathered up his book, papers and the shield. "We could head back if there's a lot to do. I imagine we'll be getting an early start in the morning."

It was obvious from the cadence and his expression that Steve was excited. Maybe Peter should have felt a little jealous, like all of this time he was standing in for the people that Steve wished was really here. That wasn't fair though as those were the people that Steve had known and been on a team with for years.

And there had been people that Peter badly wanted here too, he had just gotten one of them back.

The night air held a slight damp, chill with the kind of stillness that seemed to signal a large change in the weather was on the horizon. Though the skies were clear and the stars were bright, Emilia couldn't help but feel that smelled rain in the air.

Cold had never been the kind of thing to bother her. One of the first things that she could remember was living in the ice and snow, traipsing around barefoot in threadbare clothes through a forest frozen ghosts lost to time.

After her time in the bath she had brushed her hair out and taken the time to dry it as best she could. Then she slipped into a pink gown and made her way up to the balcony of the same dining room where she had cried in Peter's arms.

Emilia didn't know how old she was, not really, but she felt like a foolish child when she let her emotions overcome her like that. She probably looked a mess to Peter too and everyone else around her. Was this the woman meant to rule the entirety of the Kingdom?

This child?

At times she felt as if she were a child, as if there were things that the real adults around her didn't tell her. She knew they shielded her from truths of the world, even Puck. Especially Puck.

There were just so many things that she couldn't ask him about. Who had he promised that he would find her? Why did he know Beatrice?

She rested her head on her arms, looking out over the manor grounds bathed in dull starlight. The moon hadn't made its appearance in the night sky yet, she wondered if it even would?

Behind her the door opened and there was the subtle click of shoes. Emilia didn't really sense any ill intent in the movement, nor did she think anyone would be able to simply walk through the manor while Roswaal, Beatrice, Rem, Ram, and Peter were here.

"Is this where you come to think?" It was Miss May Parker's voice. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

Emilia turned. "Not at all, I was just thinking, yeah. This is where I come to do that."

May was holding a drink in her hand, it looked to be wine, and she was still fully clothed in her travel cloak wrapped tight around a simple dress.

"I get it," May said as she walked over to join Emilia at the railing. "Like, you're not exactly the same by any means, at least from what I can tell, but you and Lady Crusch do have this habit."

Emilia shifted so that she was leaning on the rail and looking toward May. "What habit?"

"She sits at this little table on her manor balcony and just looks out across the capital. She always tries to keep busy, but it feels like sometimes she can spend hours just looking at the city and thinking of whatever."

"Lady Crusch is the matron of her House on top of being another one of the candidates," Emilia said. "I am sure that she has a lot on her plate."

"You do too," May said, taking a drink from her glass.

"I guess we all do," Emilia said.

For a long while there was a silence between them. It lasted long enough that Emilia turned back to the manor grounds and stared at the dimly lit shapes of the gazebos and hedges below. There was a kind of perceptiveness that she couldn't quite put her finger on about the way that May spoke to her, as if just the simple tone in which she asked questions was designed to sift information about Emilia out.

"Have you met the other candidates?" May asked.

"Some of them. I know them all by reputation at the least. Anastasia Hoshin has done business with Roswaal—he has probably met her. Priscilla Barielle is a landholder and thus she has had emissaries come here and on one occasion come herself, she was less than kind. Lady Crusch I have met several times and I know a good deal of her entourage, which is why it is odd that over the last year I never met you," Emilia said.

May's smile widened. "You're a smart one," she said pointing with the hand that still held her half full glass of wine. "It was Wilhelm van Astrea that took me in, gave me a place to stay—he found me struggling to fend off some less than stellar individuals and realized I needed help. From there I kind of fell in with Lady Crusch as his role in her camp became more prominent."

Emilia nodded. "Mister Wilhelm has always been rather private," she said. "At least as far as I've known him."

May laughed. "He can go on about his wife if you get him started. I lost my husband, Ben, some years back—so I think that we bonded over that."

"I'm really sorry to hear that happened," Emilia said. "Peter never mentioned it."

"Peter tries not to talk about it, I used to think because he thought it was too hard for me, but I really think it's difficult for him," she said.

Emilia could do little but nod her head in agreement, it seemed that everyone around her was always tiptoeing over large parts of their past and concealing painful things from others. She didn't even really know her own past.

"Can I tell you something, truthfully, Miss Emilia?" Asked May.

"Sure."

"I'm glad I came, because this assured that I would have a chance to see Peter again sooner than I would have otherwise, but I really only came out here to meet you."

"To meet me?" Emilia asked.

"They say you look just like her, what the witch is supposed to look like," May said as her expression darkened. "People are so afraid of you and there are these nasty rumors about you, I had to see if there is any truth to them."

Emilia felt the knot in her chest, her body trembled as she fought to work up the words. No one would let it go. No one would see her as herself. Her vision went cloudy and she could feel the onset of tears just as sure as she smelled the rain earlier.

"Well, were you satisfied with what you found," Emilia's voice came out tumbling and small.

May grabbed her at the shoulder, turning the her so that they were facing each other. She pushed Emilia's chin up and looked dead into her purple eyes.

"Cut that shit out, listen to me," May said sitting her glass up on the railing so that she could hold Emilia at the shoulders with both hands.

Emilia stared into her eyes unsure of what to say or what was about to be said to her. People had spat her name, called her witch, abomination, and other, more vile, things. Was that what this was?

"I have met those other two, and yes, I did just come to get a look at you. The same way that I did them. But listen to me, from what I have seen only you and Crusch have any business being near the Throne. "

Emilia went to speak, choosing her words carefully. "I don't understand—aren't you her…" was all that she could muster before trailing off.

"I am, but I've met you now and just thought that I ought to tell you this: if you're still kind after people assuming you're the worst person that ever lived, the person that went on to destroy everything and if you're not bragging to me about what you own or how lucky you are—that's the kind of leader Lugnica needs."

The confusion subsided, though Emilia wondered why she was telling her this and how she knew what a place could need after just being here a short time.

"Let me ask you this, why do you want to be the leader of this nation?" May asked.

"To see to it that all people are treated equally," Emilia said in a small voice.

May waved her hand out towards the front lawn, grabbing her glass up as she moved. "Then tell the people that—rich, poor, Demi-human, those little firefly fairies, all of them should be seen as equal in the eyes of the ruler."

Emilia shook her head. "But the reason is selfish, especially considering that I—"

"Is it anymore selfish than wanting to own everything just for its own sake?" Asked May.

"Well, no," Emilia said.

"Okay then, then tell them what you just told me when the time comes."

"Why are you helping me though?" Asked Emilia.

"Because these people have a choice to make and they need to have real options for what they want for the Kingdom going forward. Present the best you and listen to what the others are saying because you might find something that will make your platform more appealing," said May.

Emilia put a finger to her lip, she had never thought about it like this before. In fact, Roswaal, for all his insistence that she could win, had never bothered to coach her on what to say if asked or anything.

When she first saw May, and especially when May asked about the witch, Emilia had assumed she would be told to stay away from Peter. She braced herself for it even.

"Come here, now get over here and hug me," May spread her arms and Emilia complied, her face was mashed into the side of May's neck. "Oh, I'm sorry, I get bossy and full of huggy when I'm drunk," May added.

A moment later May released her and was headed for the door. "I will let you get back to your stargazing," May said.

Emilia waved and just before May went through the door she called out. "Oh, and Miss May—thank you."

May swiped her free hand down at Emilia nonchalantly. "It's fine—look, we'll have plenty of time to talk on the way to the capital."

"For sure," Emilia said with a smile.