Peter glanced at the table where he had written the shopping list out for the things that he had decided that he needed. He had tried to write them in both English and the language of this world and he figured that he had done a decent job. Rem stood over the desk, reading over his work now, just as he was finding that he wouldn't be able to buy the materials to make his web fluid today.
"We have to be at the castle soon," Emilia said. She was in her cloak again with her white a lavender outfit barely visible beneath it. Her hair was styled in the usual way, but it looked like she had taken special care in making it as neat as possible. It did make sense, what with them going in front of the interim rulers of Lugnica.
It had been the 'them' part that Peter hadn't expected. He thought for sure that a meeting like this was something that he would have no way to go to with her. It must have been private and the kind of thing with a high level of security. Or at least that had been what he had assumed.
"Are you sure it's okay for me to be there, like this sounds like a pretty private thing, you know," Peter said. Even as he spoke he was looking into the mirror next to the long window facing the street and tying his tie.
"Peter, you're being weird again," Emilia said.
"Is it weird if you're not sure you're prepared to meet a council of wisemen?" He asked.
Emilia linked her fingers behind her back, bending forward so that she was slightly closer to him. "What happened to going where I went?" Emilia asked, though it was obviously in jest, the smile on her face had been there so long that her cheeks had gone red from the strain. He had noticed that she was a morning person, she didn't completely pass out after dark, but she for sure functioned better in the morning.
"I just thought I would be able to get the ingredients for the web fluid too. It'll be vital if you want me to keep swinging you places," Peter said.
"Come on, are you still trying to wiggle you're way out of this, Pete?" Steve stepped into view in the open door in his dark blue suit and tie.
Emilia turned to look at him. "Good morning, Captain Rogers. It would seem that you're ready to go."
"Being in the army didn't leave much time for me to sleep in and the habit…kind of stuck," Steve said.
"Captain Rogers, I hope you found your sleep comforting last night," Rem rushed away from the desk where she had been reading the papers to get closer to Steve and greet him. Peter wasn't sure he had ever seen a woman react to anyone the way Rem reacted to Steve and he really couldn't even be sure what had trigged this response in her.
Steve sighed. "It was fine, but I would feel better if I knew you weren't checking in on me periodically through the night," Steve said. "It's important that you get your rest too, Rem. You're a busy woman and you basically run the day-to-day inner workings of Roswaal's manor."
"Oh!" Rem slapped a hand to her mouth, obviously shocked that he had even figured out what she had been doing.
"It's okay, I'm not mad. I know you mean well," Steve added.
Emilia walked closer to the door where Steve was standing. "Are you wearing your shield today?"
The round shield was indeed on Steve's back, seemingly secured by a magnet strapped under his suit coat. He nodded his answer.
"Yeah, it feels like if we're going to be there to look out for you, we should at least dress the part," Steve said.
Peter, to do his part, lifted his hands up to show the web shooters concealed under his dress shirt. "If it turns out that I don't need them—no one will even know they're there."
"I suppose," Emilia said touching her hands to the sides of her face.
"Are you channeling Beatrice now?" Steve joked.
"To hear Roswaal describe it we'll be in a room with all of the knights in the kingdom and some of the most important people in the government. It would be bold to attack, but it is also a show of strength to anyone watching. Team Emilia didn't come to lay down and take it," said Steve.
Emilia nodded. "A lot of the most important people in the Kingdom will be there."
"Do you think we'll finally get a chance to talk to Reinhard?" Peter asked. "I mean to ask him what happened with Felt?"
"We should do that for sure, if he is indeed there," said Emilia.
"Peter," Rem said holding up his list. "I think that I can actually understand most of what you've written here well enough to pick these things up from the market. All of this despite the fact that your writing leaves much to be desired—" Rem shook her head.
Peter chuckled. "Thanks Rem."
"Peter! You're not going to the castle with your hair like that," May shoved past Steve a little too close for Peter's comfort and pushed her way through the room toward him. As she passed Emilia she paused to look her over.
"Oh, you look gorgeous," she said before continuing to Peter.
"Thank you," Emilia said.
"May, not now—come on!" Peter said.
May grabbed a comb up off of the table near where Peter was standing and began to work it through his hair. It's a wonder that no one ever recognized you—your damn hair looks like you always just took a mask off. And, ugh, why are you sweeting like this?"
"Um, it's probably because I'm meeting royalty and everyone is freaking me out a bit…" Peter said.
"They're not exactly royalty, Peter. They are just the council that is overseeing things to make sure that the Kingdom doesn't run into any issues that could lead to a further decline," Emilia said.
At the sound of her voice and after realizing that there were kind of a lot of people in the room who could see him now, Peter resigned himself to letting May fix his hair. "Doesn't it strike anyone else as odd that all these royal people who were there, like, the family of them I mean all died of an illness that no one else seemed to catch?"
"It is a bit of a mystery," May said. "You may want to refrain from mentioning it around Lady Crusch, she lost her fiancé to that illness."
They had been staying at a manor that was said to be the property of the Noble House of Karsten, but other than some of their coat of arms plastered on some of the things around he had seen no sign of them. Crusch was either too busy or didn't want to get bogged down meeting with the competition.
Like these people were meant to be the enemy, right? Or was it more complicated than that?
"Where is Lady Crusch," Emilia asked.
"She and Ferris have departed already," May said.
"We should be going soon too," Roswaal said. "There is a great bit of travel to get to the castle and only a short amount of time to do soooooooooo," Roswaal said as he walked into view in the door next to Steve.
"Are you coming, May?" Asked Peter.
May sighed. "I was sadly not invited to the festivities this time around, but I will be sure to get all the details from the Ferris after everything is over," she said with a smile.
Rem smiled. "I will be sure to do some shopping while you all are away so that Peter has the appropriate things to make more of his webbing."
"Thanks, Rem," Peter said.
"I guess there's a Dragon drawn carriage outside with our names on it," Steve said.
May laughed. "You boys must feel like Cinderella going to the ball to meet Prince Charming," she said.
"Not quite sure I get the reference," Steve said as he scratched at his beard.
Peter and May just stared at each other, both so stunned they didn't know what to say.
"I'm just messing with you, Thor made me watch it one time," Steve said.
Roswaal motioned for them to follow, making sure to look the two of them and Emilia over before he led them out to the carriage.
"There will be plenty of time for chatting and possible celebration when we get back," Roswaal said.
Peter felt a vague lump of worry in his throat. He could feel something on the horizon though he wasn't sure if it was just a large change or something more sinister.
Sam Sifted through the items on the shelf with the tip of his dagger looking for any clue to what it was that Bucky expected to find. At this point, they were supposed to have been back at the manor by morning. The only communication they had sent was Wade and there was no way to tell if Wade was going to do anything that he was told.
The dimly lit store room beneath the shop looked to have been abandoned for some time, in the few trips to the city Sam could remember seeing a store here. In this district of the city, this close to the center of town it was difficult to believe that real estate like this wouldn't be occupied by something important and well received. It didn't give off a hint of being a new establishment. In the room above there were shelves that had been bolted right into the floor and a number of heirlooms and nicknacks that gave the place a really down-home feel.
Sam remembered similar stores existing in Louisiana where he grew up, the kind of places that didn't have name brand stuff and made a lot of their own food and snacks or just featured junk that had been dressed up to be sold. This basement though, it conveyed another message.
Bucky was holding a small flashlight, aiming it around through the darkness. Given that it just need shaking, cranking, or solar power to keep going it was one of the few earth pieces of technology that they could manage to maintain here. The walls of this lower area were made of stone pressed into a thick mortar with wooden beams to keep there from being a cave in. There was a trick to the place because while there was an outside door to a small cellar, the only way into this space was from inside of the building.
There were tables laid out with stools and chairs around them and some papers with a lot of what looked like nonsense even with their lack of understanding of the language where.
"Should we grab some of this to take back to May?" Asked Sam.
Bucky shook his head. "I'm not sure it's smart to touch any of this stuff," Bucky said. He stopped, staring at something in the corner. Sam turned to look too, it was faint, but there was a glow there that didn't seem to originate from the flashlight.
As if picking up on the thought, Bucky cut the light. The corner of the room was lit with a very faint glow that seemed to ebb brighter and dimmer slowly like a pulse.
"What the Hell is that?" Bucky asked.
The thing was that Sam thought back and there had been something like this before. Several weeks ago on the road with Wade. They had found a batch of glowing stones hidden beneath a carriage full of food and supplies. It was no coincidence that the grenade Wade had thrown had blown up much bigger then too. None of them had really sad it—until they told Crusch about it and she said that it sounded like magical stones used to make explosive.
"Remember the stones we found under the food?" Sam said.
"Yeah, I was just thinking the same thing. You think they were stored here before?" Asked Bucky.
Sam put his hands on his hips. "That's some pretty positive goddamn thinking you've got there, but my worry was that another pile of those stones was right here in the middle of the city."
Bucky turned, his blue eyes catching the slit of light spilling through the floor above them. "Then where are they now?"
"That's the million dollar question. There's dozens of targets around here, maybe they're at all of them," Sam said.
Pointing to the floor with this Vibranium fingers. "We get a hint that a Witch's Cult operation has a long standing base right in the heart of the city and then we get in here to find it abandoned and an explosives cache just poof gone?"
Sam shrugged. "I'm not going to tell you that it's not a little weird, but what else do we have to go on. Most of what they write reads like gibberish."
"Just help me look around some more, maybe there's something…" Bucky said firing up the light again.
He and Sam ripped through the room faster now, shoving things out of the way as they dug for more hiding places. Sam picked the table up and let it rest on its side with two of the legs holding it upright as he stomped around on the floor checking for a trap door. Bucky was looking inside of empty bottles that lined the wall—anything that seemed like the kind of place that the Witch's cult would hide something.
Bucky turned to look over and as the light hit Sam.
"Get that light out of my face!" Sam said. "Can't you see me reading?"
"There's something there," Bucky said.
Sam turned to look at his shadow cast against the bottom of the overturned table he was kneeling. There were faint lines of something drawn there.
"Let's get it flipped over," said Sam.
There were stools that were about the same height, they used them to prop the table up upside down so that they could see it better. Bucky aimed the light at it, illuminating a massive drawing a shape with rooms and passageways mapped out. There was one passage the started from outside and seemed to make its way almost into the center.
"What are you thinking this looks like?" Bucky asked.
"The Castle," said Sam.
"How sure are you?"
"I've flown over the place, I'm pretty sure," Sam said.
"I just want to know because if we burst into the castle today of all days you know Lady Crusch is going to run us through with that sword of hers," Bucky said.
Sam sighed. "Mmhm, the woman is scary, but I'm thinking about if we don't do anything and she makes it back to hear how we had a hunch and we're just glad she's okay."
"Yeah, we definitely won't be okay then."
"So we're breaking into a castle—just making that clear," said Sam.
"We better hurry," Bucky said. "If that explosion last time is any indication everyone inside could be vaporized."
When it was seen from the outside the Royal Palace appeared large. It occupied most of the top of the mountain at the center of the capital, after all. But when you entered the main gate of the palace and made your way up the road made of golden cobblestones toward the massive doors of the main keep was the first time that the sheer size of the place became apparent.
There was a huge outer wall with ramparts that could be manned and guarded with several buildings within that other than just the main building where the royals were meant to be living and ruling from. In the shadow of that main keep was something that looked like a little young stadium situated between the wall and another structure.
Unlike Roswaal's manor, the Ground Dragons didn't just pull up to a circular drive to let their passengers off. The inner keep was so large that the Ground Dragons and carriages rode into a small covered area that acted as a stable to one side for temporary use and a drop off and pick up point. On Earth there had been places like this in airports and even some fancy hotels where valets would park the vehicles.
Peter and Steve climbed out of the Ground Dragon carriage first and offering Emilia one of their hands each, they helped her out. For a bit Puck had been out in the carriage, but they had collectively decided with Roswaal's pressure that having her a Great Spirit out in front of the council could end up being a double edged sword. He would remain hidden in her hair or in his crystal for the remainder of the time there.
Roswaal jumped out of the carriage next, flipping the tall top hat onto his head as he moved to follow them. A group of guards at the door snapped to attention as the four of them approached.
"Are things here always this tense?" Asked Steve.
"Only when the whole Royal family is dead and there's a very precarious balance holding the entirety of the kiiiiingdooom together."
"I feel like only you could say that so calmly," Peter said glancing to Roswaal.
The Margrave smiled so hard that he shut his eyes. "This way," he said.
The guards had a question for them before they even got close. "Miss Emilia, Margrave Roswaal—and these two are?" Asked the guard on their right.
"Miss Emilia's guardians," Roswaal said. "The girl is one of the most famous women in the country now, it behoves her to have the best of protection. I can't be everywhere she goes."
"Unless they are her designated knights it is not standard procedure…"
Roswaal putting his hand on the guard's shoulder and lowering his voice, cut the man off. "Now then, you wouldn't want Margrave Roswaal to have to go to the council and explain how you turned away an honored part of Miss Emilia's entourage, you should let this go and let them pass."
The guard gulped. "Yes, sir."
They both slammed their spears into the ground and stepped aside to let them pass through.
It was weird to see Roswaal command that kind of respect and almost a sort of fear, there had to be something more to the man that they were living with.
The opulence of the palace put the Mathers Manor to shame. The hallways were nearly as wide as the road leading in here had been with golden etched, embellishments of dragons pressed into the wall at equal intervals and outlined with red and white. There floors were large tiles that had been polished to the point that the reflected everyone walking on them in their marble pattern.
In what felt like a natural step, Peter and Steve fell in step slightly behind Roswaal and Emilia, but just a bit off to their sides so that they were marching in a wedge shaped chevron configuration.
"This whole thing should be rather low key, even then, we want to give our best performance here—this might be your introduction to the world," Roswaal said to Emilia.
She nodded.
The four of them made their way down a long hallway through a pair of great red doors, the kind that Peter only saw when entering the boss rooms in a video game. Maybe this was their boss room, it was kind of the culmination of everything that Emilia had been working toward thus far.
Those doors opened to a long hall that they traveled to another set of doors that was guarded more heavily than the others. As they closed in two of the guards broke ranks and pushed the doors open from the sides to let them pass. The room that the doors opened into was wide with columns set to the sides of the room and a long strip bisecting the center and leading up to a dais where the throne sat with seating for a council behind it in a semicircle.
This room had impossibly high ceilings with green marble tile with gold trim running between them. At the tops of the walls was a crown-molding comprised mostly of ornate gold. The windows of the room, that flooded down white light from the morning sun outside, were up high and a good distance away so that they could bathe everything in light.
To the right side of the room, when they entered, were men dressed in what looked to be scholar's robes who all turned to see the person walking in. Some of them, upon seeing Emilia and the group whispered or made faces of disgust. On the left side of the room, Peter recognized the Knights from the uniform that he had seen the previous day at the barracks. They did not turn to look at who entered and instead stayed facing toward the front with their hands poised on the weapons.
Roswaal led the three of them to the front of the room down the center aisle. There were two women standing with their backs to the door there already, one of them with lavender hair who was dressed in elegant furs. She glanced back first, her green eyes scanning them but the moment that she found Steve her expression changed and she was fixated on him.
The other woman was in a formal military sort of uniform, this, Peter guessed, must have been Lady Crusch. He hadn't met her yet, but he had been in one of the places she called home and he could tell just by the clothing and the manner in which she was carrying herself that this was her. She glanced in their direction, though didn't concentrate too long before turning back to the front.
"That's the woman I met in town the first day I was here," Steve said to Peter, pointing toward the front.
"Anastasia Hoshin?" Emilia asked. "You met her?"
Steve thought for a second. "That is what she said her name was," he finally remembered.
The doors were still open behind them as the final one of the candidates appeared, the woman from the previous day: Baroness Priscilla Barielle. With her was the same bucket-headed man who Peter and Emilia had met before, Al.
Peter would have been lying if he had tried to claim that she wasn't kind of stunning. The red hair, the way she carried herself, the way that she dressed—there was something just designed to work on Peter's high school boy brain. There was another side to the feeling though as he got the distinct idea that she fell more into that vapid Mean Girl category, if her were giving her a type.
Of course things didn't work like in the movies.
"Ah, it's you," came Priscilla Barielle's voice undercut by the click of her heels against the floor of the throne room as she walked to catch up with them.
Roswaal stopped and turned. "My, how nice to see you Miss Priscilla," he said as if stunned to see her in a place where he knew she had been for sure summoned.
Priscilla made a small noise to acknowledge that she had heard him, a sound that was a more dismissive hmpf, but almost inaudible. Then she turned toward Peter. "You, you're the string boy, Peter, from the alley."
Steve laughed. "String boy?"
"It's odd, I didn't take you for the type that ran with half-breeds and mongrels," she said as she passed between Roswaal and Emilia. When she was fully past them, Emilia lowered her head.
Right, Mean Girls were just a thing in the movies.
Al, the man who had accompanied her stayed behind with them near the door. Before Peter could really say anything to try and comfort Emilia, but just then a man in fullplate amor with probably the worst haircuts Peter had seen in this world, a lime green buzzcut flat top, stepped forward to make an announcement.
"Attention, the Council of Wisemen will now enter," said the knight with the bad hair.
As he spoke a line of older men in long purple cloaks with gold and orange trim and regal wrapped mauve, wrapped shirts underneath entered down the center red carpet. The man at the front of the line, who must have been the leader, had long white hair that almost touched the floor and a billowy beard. It was hard to imagine any more of a wise man council looking group than this one.
Peter and Steve looked on as the men filled into the room, walked up past the throne and filtered out into the seats on either side of the semicircle behind it.
"We had better take our places, Emilia," Roswaal said. "The meeting is beginning."
"You're going to do great," Peter said.
Emilia glanced back at him and smiled before heading to the front of the room. By this time Priscilla had just taken her place, though she didn't close in on Crusch's side tight. Emilia moved to stand in the spot there as she reached the front of the room.
Al was starring at Steve now, he hadn't said anything just yet. Then he pointed to the far side of the room over in front of the Knights. "I think we're supposed to wait up there," he said.
Roswaal nodded. "That's correct," he said shooing them off.
Al, Peter, and Steve made their way into the front of the Knights ranks. Al was behind the pair of them and between them as they got situated. Peter also recognized Ferris, standing in his knight regalia and Reinhard standing with a sense of purpose and duty that had been absent for sure the last time that he had seen the man running off with Felt. He wanted to ask what that was all about and what became of the girl if only to report back to Old Man Rom, but it didn't seem like the time.
Then Al leaned in between Peter and Steve and said something neither of them could have predicted. "You're Captain America."
Peter and Steve turned back to Al with mouths hanging open.
"Right, sorry, I was actually born in Japan. I ended up here about eighteen years ago—I wasn't sure at first, but I have for sure seen your picture in history books," Al said.
Was it really that strange, the list of people summoned to this place seemed to grow every few days. It was Steve who seemed to accept the fact of what Al was saying first. "Steve Rogers," he said offering the man his hand.
"People just call me Al," he replied. "And I met this one the other day outside the barracks."
"Yeah, but you didn't mention being from Earth then!" Peter said loud enough that Steve put his finger up to try and quiet him.
"Uh, you didn't mention it either," Al said, holding his finger up near the helm as if he meant to scratch his face. "Do you typically go around letting people know you're from another world?"
There was some delay in the ceremony as the council talked amongst themselves in their seats as the four candidates stood eagerly before the throne waiting. Each of them was taking being made to wait in a slightly different way: Crusch stood at the ready, Emilia waited calmly, while Anastasia held a tense stance, and Priscilla stood with her arms folded over her chest.
"How did you manage to get from Japan to here?" Asked Steve, leaning back so that Al could hear him.
Al shrugged, as idk that were a valid explantation. Although really that was about as good as Peter and Steve could manage at this point. One thing was clear, people have been coming to this land before the Thanos ever wiped out half of existence.
"The story was that you died in a plane crash," Al said. "Is that when you ended up here?"
Steve shook his head. "It's a pretty long story, I can tell you about it sometime."
"Maybe over a drink, I'm buying. It's not every day I meet a real life super soldier," Al said.
Someone in the long white, high collard coat of a knight pushed their way through the crowd back to where Peter and Steve were standing. He had red hair with side swept bangs covering most of his forehead. His piercing blue eyes peering out between his hair and the top of his coat as he glanced the pair of them over.
"Peter Parker, Steve Rogers—did I get it right?" Reinhard van Astrea stood before them, he looked every bit the part of the knight, like a paragon of virtue and yet that night he had stolen that girl Felt away and there was no sign of her.
"Sir Reinhard," Peter said.
Steve gave him a curt, quiet nod.
"Oh, yeah, Reinhard, Emilia and I were looking for you yesterday, see we wanted to ask—"
Ferris slipped in from Reinhard's side, bumping the other man and wiggling his cat like ears up and down. "You guys are here too," Ferris said.
"Hey Ferris," Steve said.
"Hey to you too, didn't expect to see me, I take it?" Asked the Demi-human.
Peter thought back to that first night, Reinhard was of course the person they met in the immediate aftermath of the fight with Elsa, but the other knight he had called had been none other than Ferris. It only made sense that as one of the knights he was here too.
Ferris was wearing the same impeccable cloak as Reinhard with a black turtleneck color shirt beneath it, though Ferris cloak was not clasped in the front and swung free. All of the knights had a sword at their belt that seemed more decorative than anything else.
"It sounds like you've made your fair share of friends," Reinhard said.
"I really just wanted to ask about Felt," Peter said.
Reinhard smiled. "Oh, were you worried for her?"
Steve looked between Peter and Reinhard. "To hear others who knew her tell it the girl simply vanished after that day."
"I assure you that there is nothing to worry about. She hasn't been incarcerated, if that's what you're worried about."
Another familiar face, this time belonging to Julius Juukulius, stepped in from the side to file along the front rows of the knights. Julius glanced back at them, his yellow eyes meeting Peter's before nodded his acknowledgement of the other. From what he could tell, the knights that Peter trusted in order most were Ferris and Julius out of these three. There was something all too odd about how Reinhard refused to answer questions about this girl or really give any kind of hint what he was up to.
Emilia had said that he was the best of the knights, but how many times back on Earth had the most well respected and most innocent seeming celebrity turned out to be a total dirtbag.
"Now, if I may be so froward," came a booming voice from the front of the room. The green haired knight with the buzzcut flat top spoke near the front center of the room. "I Marcos, Leader of the Imperial Knights, will act as the director for all of today's proceedings."
Marcos continued. "It all happened about half a year ago, when members of the Royal Family, starting with the King went into hiding one-by-one causing—"
"Listen," came a dainty voice with a slight accent that cut the leader of the knights off. "I get that you want to talk things up and put on a big show here, but I'm kinda busy you know."
It was the woman dressed in the furs with the lavender hair that Steve had mentioned meeting before. Anastasia Hoshin, despite her youthful appearance she spoke with every bit of the self-assuredness of anyone that Peter had ever seen. "You may not have heard of it, but we have a saying back in Kararagi: Time is money. If you're just going to repeat what we already know, then why did you even bother to gather us here?"
"I couldn't agree more," said Crusch in an even tone. She now stood with her arms folded.
"Miss Crusch, should the head of the Karsten family say such a thing?" Marcos asked.
"I acknowledge that it is important to observe formality, but it is also a fact that our time is rather limited," Crusch answered. "So it would be wise to immediately inform us as to why we are here."
Then Crusch added. "Naturally, however, I do have a general idea."
"Am I to understand that you already know the purpose of this meeting then?" Asked the old wise man with the long white beard that reached down to almost his knees. He seemed neither stunned nor worried about how she would have figured out was was going on.
"Yes, I do, Lord Miklotov, for a drinking party. One day soon we will face each other as rivals, but by sharing drinks and conversing at the same table we will have a chance to learn more about one another," Crusch explained.
Miklotov stared at her for a bit, waiting for any more of her theory to show itself before answering. Finally he spoke. "No ma'am, that is not correct?"
"Felix," Crusch said. "That is not what you told me earlier!"
Ferris popped his head out of the crowd, ears wiggling as he answered. "That's not true, all I said is 'maybe it will be a drinking party'. I never said that I knew it for a fact or anything."
"I see," said Crusch. "Then I jumped to conclusions. Please allow me to retract everything that I just said."
Anastasia held her pale hand up. "Now just a second, even if she backs down my opinion on this isn't going to change. There's no need to explain the Royal Section Process now, we already know how it works," she said. "Am I right?"
"Well," Emilia said, hand clasped against her cloak. "I still think we should hear—"
Anastasia cut her off. "Sorry, but I don't remember asking for your opinion on any of this business."
Peter felt a flash of anger, but refrained from even daring to show it. His acting out would only draw attention to him and Steve,. They already probably stood out in this room full of lifelong members of noble families and people with ties to a real royal linage. Then there was also the fact that if Emilia couldn't stand up for herself, or ignore the comments made to her, his stepping in wouldn't make her look any stronger.
He just had to hope that she could weather things that were said about her.
Macros rolled his eyes. "It would seem that we need to carry on without the 'big show' as Miss Anastasia put it…"
"Good," Anastasia smiled. "Now if you could get back to it sans the little attitude, that would be splendid."
Marcos paused, looking like he wanted desperately to say something else or reprimand the woman, but instead he continued. "There's a very specific reason that we have gathered you who are qualified to be the Dragon's Priestess. A new prophecy has been engraved in the Dragon Stone. This new insight says: 'from the five capable of becoming the nation's new leader choose on Priestess to enter into a new covenant with the Dragon."
Steve glanced over at Peter. "It looks like we're one short, now I am curious about why they did even call this meeting."
"At the moment there is only four, which means that the Royal Selection hasn't begun in earnest," Reinhard said. "But today history will be set in motion."
"Knight Reinhard van Astrea, come forward," Marcos said.
With a prompt, "Yes sir," Reinhard broke ranks and jogged to the front of the room behind to all of the Candidates and Marcos. He dropped to one knee, gloved hand over his chest and head bowed. "Honored members of the Council of Wisemen, I, Imperial Knight, Reinhard van Astrea would like to announce to completion of my mission."
There was a sharp gasp from some around the room, while others just glanced around waiting to hear exactly what was going on.
"The Fifth Contender, the Final Candidate mentioned in the prophecy, has been located!"
At the back of the throne room the doors opened and Reinhard turned, with a flourish of his hand. He sure did favor the dramatic, Peter thought. As the doors swung fully open a young woman stepped in wearing an off-the-shoulder yellow dress with brown and orange trim and a dark brown corset covering the stomach. Her short blonde hair was done up with brown and orange bows. And she looked confused as to what she had just walked into. As she walked the carpeted strip down the center of the room, two short attendants with pink hair filed in beside her.
Peter couldn't help but concentrate on the face, there was something about those reddish eyes and the round bob haircut. It couldn't be, thought Peter. Was that Felt?
"The one that I myself revere as Queen, her name is Miss Felt," Reinhard said.
She continued down the center of the throne room until she reached the front of the room where Reinhard had knelt and the rest of the knights were flanking the one side of the room. Peter couldn't believe it, all this time they had been looking for Felt and worried that something sinister had been done to her hand from the look of things she had just been given new clothes and coached on how to act in situations like this.
"Thank you for honoring us with your presence, Miss Felt," Reinhard said.
"Ah, Reinhard," Felt said walking out of line and approaching where Reinhard had moved back to stand with Peter, Steve, and Al. The moment that she was within range of him she hiked up her skirts and jumped to kick right at Reinhard's face. "You bastard, why the Hell did you drag me to this with no explanation!?"
It was as if the kick couldn't land, Reinhard was suddenly out of the way. He still bothered to catch her by the boot and held it up next to his face for a moment.
"This is more than a bit surprising, what brought on this aggressive behavior?" Reinhard asked.
"Don't just stop my kick and ask me that like nothing happened!" Felt shouted.
And here, Peter thought that she had been coached out of this kind of behavior.
"I've had it up to here with your shitty surprises," Felt said, her voice becoming more and more raspy by the moment.
"Do the dress and shoes not suit your taste? They both look lovely on you," Reinhard said as he gently placed her foot back onto the ground and knelt back down to get better on her level to talk to her. The kick that she had tried had been really fast, faster than that of most humans. The force of her movement and the impact was enough that Peter had felt it this far away. Reinhard moved out of the way with blinding speed. If she had been this angry over the past four weeks, something told Peter that she had tried this before and he had dodged it just the same.
This guy was really like Emilia had said, utterly unreal.
Peter shot a glance to Emilia to find that she was standing with her hand pressed to her lips in shock. He was feeling the exact same way, actually.
"Oh, give me a break. You know I'm not talking about what I'm wearing," said Felt.
Peter had to have a chuckle at this. "It's good to see that you're doing so well, Miss Felt—Emilia and I were kind of worried about where you had vanished to," Peter said.
"Whoa, what in the world are you doing here?" Felt asked, her big red eyes finding Peter. She looked from him to Steve, but brought her attention back to him in the end.
"Um, just being your friendly neighborhood—candidate guardian," Peter said fumbling his way through the explanation as he waved at her.
Felt rushed, twisted to the side to kick at Peter. It seemed like she was aiming for the side of his body just below the ribs. The kick was enough of a threat that his tingle flared and he leapt into the air so that her leg passed under him and landed in a neat crouch.
Her eyes went wide. "You seem a lot sprier than the last time I saw you fight," she said. "You been working out?"
Marcos cleared his throat very deliberately. "Miss Felt, if we are done rekindling old friendships I would ask that you please step over here," he said.
Resuming her march to the front, Felt took her place on the side of Priscilla. "Alright," she said. "What is it that you want me to do, anyway?"
Emilia watched from the other side of Priscilla, content to find out that the young girl who had helped save their lives from the Bowel Hunter and whom she had bonded with somewhat through the fight with that same villain was alive and well here within the castle. It was a bit of a shock that they were saying she had the qualifications for the Royal selection, until Emilia remembered what had happened that night.
Reinhard had seen the insignia in Felt's hands, he must have noticed the glow of the jewel and sure to conceal it before anyone else in the room caught a glimpse, especially Emilia who would at the very least know to ask Roswaal about it.
For the past several weeks he must have secreted the girl away in his home and tried to prepare her for the day. Emilia had to admit that she wouldn't mind seeing some of that herself. The two of them were quite the odd pair.
Sure enough, when Reinhard walked over and placed another insignia in Felt's hand it glowed a bright a bright red. There were a few murmurs from the crowd that turned into a rising torrent of sound that threatened to overtake the proceedings.
"As you can see," Reinhard shouted over the din. "The dragon gem has recognized Miss Felt as a Priestess. Now that her participation has been approved by the powers that be I think that it is high time we begin the Royal Selection process."
It was like the words that Reinhard spoke were a signal, the Knights, including Marcos placed a hand over their chest and gave a small bow. The motion took several seconds, as if some of them were only made away of their need to do so by others around them doing it. On the whole side of the room, only Peter, Steve, and Al didn't follow suit.
A weasel looking man with a hooked, pointed goatee spoke, his words sounded as if they were strained by his flattened nose. "Even if the dragon has recognized her, don't you think her selection is a bit, oh how do I put this, problematic?"
Marcos turned to glare at the man. "It would seem that the Honorable Rickert Hoffman would like the floor," he said. "Go on, tell me again how we, the Imperial Knights, made a mistake."
The knights turned their heads to face the civil servants side of the room, there was a kind ofd thick tension now and Emilia would have expected this kind of thing to come to blows had it been any other two groups glaring at each other in any other place.
Emilia had heard of this man in the past, Rickert Hoffman, he had a reputation for being rather unpleasant, even amongst his more unpleasant contemporaries. There was a murmuring through the room and Emilia's elven ears picked up some of the knights of that were pledged for the other candidates speaking on their grim determination. Peter and Steve stood together watching all of this happen, but said nothing.
"Silence, Knight Reinhard will you begin by describing to us the circumstances that allowed you to discover this young lady?"
Reinhard knelt at Felt's side, placing his ornate sword on the floor next to him. This wasn't the sword typically worn as part of his uniform, but the family sword that had been passed down through the Sword Saints line. It's white scabbard had a golden design by the opening where the hilt of the sword interlocked when it was placed inside.
As Reinhard explained how he had come to meet Felt, there was more noise in the room. Some people were shocked to hear him mention that she had come from the slums. It was, once again, the Civil Servant Rickert who yelled out when it seemed that he could take no more of this.
"You mean she's a gutter rat?" Rickert gasped.
"Sorry for being a gutter rat, but it isn't like I asked to be here in the first place!" Felt yelled.
"All of this long with blather could not be more tedious," Priscilla said from next to Emilia. "I suppose that it isn't your fault, you could probably only manage simplistic and tedious conversation."
Emilia shot a glance toward Priscilla, wondering what the woman was doing saying this here and now. Felt and her were next to each other and she could already predict how Felt would react.
"If you want to go, then let's do this," Felt growled.
"Such insolence," Priscilla snapped. "Who do you think I am, you little urchin."
The room warmed suddenly and there was a vague hint of mana wafting through the air now. Crusch and Anastasia turned to look at Priscilla, shocked as she raised one hand in the air with her fan held high. Sparks of orange danced around her dress a faint glow seemed to emanate from her body. She Brough her fan down just as Emilia dashed out of line and moved to cover Felt, knowing that Puck would be at the ready.
Before she could fully prepare for whatever this was, Reinhard stepped in between Priscilla and the, drinking the mana from her attack out of the air. "A thousand pardons, Baroness," he said, his voice almost brimming over with anger.
"What do you think you're doing, attacking her here like this of all places," Emilia shouted.
"Hmph, I was just trying to teach that little gutter-trash bitch her place," Priscilla said.
"Apologize to the council and everyone else here for that," Emilia said. "And most of all apologize to Felt."
"You should apologize to us for being your cursed presence into our midsts, you silver-haired half demon," Priscilla said.
"I've told you, I'm not connected to the witch at all—our random similarity in appearance is just that, random," Emilia said, her voice was trembling now, but she seemed to have made her point.
Marcos called the candidates one by one after he had them calm again and they each stated their ultimate goal and what they would like to see done when they become ruler if they were indeed chosen. Crusch was up first.
"My ultimate goal is to see the Dragon's covenant done away with," Crusch began. There were more utterances and some mumbling at this. "As a nation we have become too dependent on it and it has stunted our growth and reduced our capacity to recognize the very real human cost of things."
When things calmed down an it was Anastasia's turn she revealed something a little shocked to most in attendance, including Emilia. "I see you're all so keen to call this girl a gutter rat and street trash and things of that matter—well that used to be me, homeless and begging for scraps.
"You've brought before us two urchins!?" Rickert yelled.
Anastasia held up her hand to quiet the crowd. "I am here to tell you that it is possible to climb out of poverty. I was so greedy that I managed to do that and keep going until I had the largest trading company in all of Kararagi," she said clapping her hands together. She turned to the assembled crowd. "And I'm so greedy that that isn't enough: I want my own country. Of course, I am ambitious. I wouldn't simply let this place fall to ruin, your country is in dire straits and who better to fix that then the gutter trash standing before you today?" Anastasia said shooting a glare at Priscilla.
It was her turn next, after all. "I would like to start off by saying that the Bloodstained Bride comments are a little blasé. My disgusting, former pervert of a husband left this world because he was too dirty to continue living and he gifted me with the title of Baroness. I can't help it if I am lucky, this world seems tailor made to work in a fashion that best suits me. Which is why you should choose me as your Queen, at the end of the day we all know it will be me, so why not save yourselves the time," she said.
"And who knows, maybe my luck will transfer to you? Are the lands of House Bariellle not doing better than they have in centuries? Why not let the whole of the Kingdom prosper?"
"Thank you all," Marcos said. He had said this between each of them and going into announcing the candidate after them. Emilia was next and even as her name was called the jeers and noises from the crowd began.
She could hear the word Satella being spat at her and comments about her silver hair. One of the Council members, Bordeaux Zellgef, rose from his seat. He was a bald man with bushy eyebrows and a stern expression. Emilia had heard tell in the past how he had been called Mad Dog and had cut such an imposing figure that during the war some years back whole squadrons were felled by him.
"This girl has no business in this hallowed place or in the running for our next ruler," he said. "We've allowed this farce to carry on for long enough, but I demand that this half-devil be ejected from the proceedings."
"Witch!" Yelled someone in the crowd.
"What if she is an attempt to infiltrate the ruling line by the Witch of Envy," yelled Rickert.
Emilia felt her body going numb, her legs were weak and she worried that any moment she could topple over. She tried to turn to address the crowd, to tell them what it was she wanted, but the words wouldn't come. How could she beg for equality when they saw her as a monster?
Her chest started to heave, she could feel the tears coming and worried that she might drop to all fours and vomit at this. Then she lifted her head and saw Peter step out into the red carpeted aisle in front of her. He moved toward her, doing as he was supposed to and guarding her. How could he know that this was just bringing the spotlight on him, how could he know how improper all of this was? Then in a flash, something else slid out in front of her.
With a dark cloak fluttering around him and with his top hat removed for dramatic effect, Roswaal stood between Emilia and Peter, gazing back over his shoulder at her. Everyone in the room had turned to see what he was doing now, surely it was some grand distraction to cover for Emilia. Roswaal was weird, but he couldn't leave his prospect to dangle like this while the council tortured her.
Roswaal turned back to Peter, with a glance that seemed to stop Peter dead in his tracks.
"Allow me to show you fire magic at its most refined. Al Goa," said Roswaal.
There was a swell of mana in the room, a maelstrom pulled from all corners of the area as Roswaal opened his free hand at his side with the palm up. What appeared there was almost akin to a small sun, the heat building from the fireball that he had formed radiated out until it was too warm even at the distance where Emilia was standing.
Peter stumbled back down the center aisle, covering his eyes against the brightness. "What are you doing?" Peter cried.
"Margrave Roswaal, why are you doing this?" Emilia screamed, arm outstretched. The other candidates clamored out of the way, Julius actually bothered to leap to Anastasia's side to cover her with his own person. The heat in the room so intense and unstable that it was a wonder Roswaal could control mana like this. H
He really was the most talented mage in the country.
"I'm sorry, it's really the only waaaay," Roswaal said.
Could Peter dodge it, probably, but with this kind of intensity, Emilia wasn't sure there would be a safe distance.
All at once, Roswaal released the flame from his hand and it rocketed off toward Peter. Emilia cried out, hand reaching for Peter and so close to the blazing ball of fire mana that she could feel it scoring her palm, threatening to blister her. A million questions raced through her head.
How could Roswaal betray them?
Why?
What would she do without Peter?
What would she tell May?
She felt the mana flutter to life deep within her own gate and then she closed her eyes and wished for a miracle.