"Sometimes unlucky things happen to good people for no real reason at all. That's just how the mean old world works, I'm afraid. But if you work your best, sweetie, and try your hardest, I'm sure you'll be able to push your way through everything and anything that stands in your way! Be nice to people and protect sweet innocent little girls from things which are mean and nasty, and I'm sure God will smile on you."

– Cattleya Yvette La Baume Le Blanc de la Vallière


...


"My father," Louise said, feeling numb. "My father. Has... has the fragment of the tower heart."

It wasn't meant to be like this! It wasn't! If she had to confront her family – and Founder aid her, hopefully she would never had to – then it should happen at the end, once her restoration of Princess Henrietta was all but a fait acomplis and she could explain what she had been doing and why. Every bone in her body cried out that that was true. To have it happen now was... not what should happen!

"The evidence appears to be concrete," Gnarl said, looking up from the package which had been delivered. "It was stolen from a Germanian alchemist who had been looking into using it for immortality by the count von Sankt-Germanus, a known associate of your father, and from certain fiscal details within, the money chain is clear." The minion sighed happily. "I will be sure to make sure of this, of course, which will require me to go over the papers with a rusty scalpel."

"Why does my father have it?" Louise screamed at the ceiling, impersonating an ironworks as she stomped up and down in her armour. "Why? What could possibly possess him to do something like that? Ten years ago, no less! It's not even as if he did it to thwart me right now, which would be understandable!"

Gnarl stroked his goatee. "Yes, that is a puzzler," he said calmly. "What could a known Hero want with a tool of such mighty and magnificent Evil? Well, we have to bear in mind the lamentable tendency for the Heroic sort to take Evil artifacts and want to lock them away safe from where the proper people can do Wrong with them. The Germanian alchemist was melting people down in acid and trying to make clockwork prosthetics made of gold and bone, and that kind of thing always draws the Heroic sort when they find out about it."

The overlady drew a deep breath, and tried to calm herself down. Yes, maybe that was it. Maybe it was just locked in the family vault, somewhere safe. That would be good, because she knew how her parents got into it.

"Of course," Gnarl continued, "the kind of Hero who does that does have a tendency to get corrupted or controlled by the Evil artefact in question. Either directly, which is always highly amusing..."

"Too true," Maggat said gleefully. "They say 'oh no, it controlling me, I can't help myself' when they attack their friendies, and then everyone cry when they killed. Well, that or they say 'ah ha ha, you all fools, now me see truth, there only power and those too weak to seizes it' and then there less crying when they get cut to pieces."

"First type funnier, but second type more effective for goal of Evil," Igni observed.

"Yes, indeed," Gnarl said, shooting a slightly annoyed glance at the younger minions.

"You see that a lot, do you?" Louise said bitterly, her fists clenched into balls. This was her father they were talking about.

"Oh, a fair amount, a fair amount," Gnarl said, hobbling over to the table to lift himself into his high chair. "It's a remarkably common thing for Heroic types to do. Over the years, you get used to it." He shuffled the papers noisily. "And there are so many things you can do with a fragment of a tower heart. They are Evil magical crystals par excellence. They are wonderful receptacles of souls; whether the tortured souls of your foes, or your own if you want to become a liche. They empower swords with black magic and boost a caster's spells by a lot, at the cost of twisting their elemental affinity towards Evil. And so on and so forth. It never ends happily for the person trying it, of course, if only because cutting up tower hearts to try to do that kind of meddlesome thing tends to destabilise them and then everyone near even a fragment dies in a horrific magical meltdown."

Ah. Well, in that case, Louise felt, she was doing Good by rescuing the fragment. No one wanted a horrific magical meltdown. But she had a lot to think about.

Louise cleared her throat uneasily. "This is a lot to take in," she said. "I'm going for a walk. I need... I need fresh air to clear my head. While you check that Scarron is not lying to me."

"Not too fresh, I hope," Gnarl said half-heartedly, his attention already drawn to the promise of paperwork. "Kill some bunnies for me."


...


It was cold outside the tower, and her breath steamed in the air. Winter had come early this year, the snows rolling in off the Great North Sea, and whiteness crunched under her metal-clad feet. It was hard to believe that in a few months time, it would be spring again and she would have been missing for a whole year.

She should have progressed faster. She should have spent more time taking down the Council, so she could go back to her family and not have to pretend to be evil and all sorts of things. But the comte de Mott had been a fluke! A fluke which had nearly killed her, and a fluke which would have escaped had her minions not stolen a ship.

She had wanted to go faster, but she had not been able to do so! The Madam de Montespan was ensconced in Amstreldamme, which was actually larger than Bruxelles, and the duke de Richelieu was holding the capital. And as for her treacherous ex-fiancé who was a witless degenerate cur... well, no one knew where he was. Some people said he was in Albion handling negotiations with the successful rebels there, others that he was doing hidden things with the army. How was she meant to punish him for his wrongdoings if she couldn't even find him!

They hadn't managed to get a proper replacement for the comte de Mott. That was something, at least. The crunch of snow under her feet was especially satisfying as she thought that. That man had – despite or possibly because he was a degenerate – been popular among the middle and low nobility, and had even been beloved by the peasantry. Which just showed the tragic lack of taste among most people. But still, his replacement on the Council was a grey yes-man. Louise couldn't even remember his name.

She might kill him at some point, but given that he seemed incapable of organising a... a drinking contest in a wine-cellar, that wasn't a good use of her time. His replacement might actually be competent.

Her wanderings had brought her to the rocky outcropping in the frozen-over swamp which she had started using as a practice area after she almost set an important bit of the tower on fire. Clearly her subconscious mind had been doing the thinking for her while she brooded. So while she was here, she might as well blow some things up.

It did sound like a rather good idea.

Soon the sound of breaking ice and sizzling rock filled the air, as Louise de Vallière took her frustrations out on the world around her.

Because she was very frustrated. She was having to go up against her family. Her parents... would probably kill her. And from some of the things Gnarl had said about the uses of fragments of a tower heart, she was getting increasingly worried.

It was looking not impossible that her parents might have dabbled in Evil magic. Which was wrong. They were her parents! They were Heroes! They shouldn't be doing things like that! And... and from what it sounded like, they could have done it to save Cattleya, to keep her alive! At least, they might have thought about doing it, because she was still sick.

Or they might have done something to her, to try to fix her problems with magic. And left her with this Evil magic which Gnarl kept on saying that he sensed in her. Wouldn't that be a laugh, in a totally-not-funny way? She would have been linked to this ruined tower for far longer than she would have known. All the problems she'd always had with magic, the way that her power only worked properly with these dark spells she'd learned now... her parents' fault?

Snarling, Louise threw two titanic balls of fire into a frozen-over swampy patch, the steam blast knocking her off her feet. Flat on her back, she stared up at the grey sky, letting the chill soak into her bones and sap her fury.

So be it.

Even then, she wouldn't march in and try to kill her parents. And not just because she'd lose. Because they were still her parents, and she didn't even know if it was true. No, she would be sensible. She wouldn't act like some idiotic dark lord who'd go and challenge Karina of the Heavy Wind to a duel and be cut to shreds.

She'd just... get the fragment. Without anyone knowing she was there. No melodramatic confrontation, no climatic duel, no her-being-killed-by-her-mother. Nothing.

The girl pulled herself up off the ground, and dusted the snow off her. Some tar-sticky globules of life energy were sitting around the crater in the swamp. Something had been living under there. Louise went around, her dark gauntlet absorbing the energy. She had rather a lot of it; she needed to find one of those minion-making artefacts that Gnarl had talked about so she could spend it. And also find a source of minions that didn't rely on finding goblin tribes to take captive. She was running rather low on them recently. She'd depleted most of the local ones.

Which was good, right, because it meant that people weren't being raided in this harsh winter. So she was doing a righteous thing. And so... really, making a horde of minions was the morally correct choice, because at least she – who was good and pure – was in control of the little blighters.

Panting, and feeling somewhat better for taking her annoyance out on the terrain, Louise looked up at the grey sky. Something moved up there; she shielded her eyes. There were black spots up against the clouds, but they were shaped wrong to be birds. And they were circling. Had something been drawn by her smashing?

Well, she knew what to do. In one hand, she summoned two balls of fire; in the other, she held lightning. If they got close enough to see her properly, they'd end up cooked.

And they did come flying in, to a sound of distant whineys. Wait. Whineys?

The girl stared at the small herd of winged horses, circling around her. They glared at her with their mad equine eyes.

"Oh, for goodness sake!" Louise sighed. "Really! Really? You too?"

Well, if they were going to attack her anyway, she might as well get to try out the lightning magic she had learned. The flying horses were asking for it. Why wouldn't these dratted ponies leave her alone?


...


"Woo hoo!" one of the minions called as they dragged in the charred bodies. "Fresh meat! Overlady is best overlady! Maybe beer monster attack her next!"

"That be good," another one agreed. "But steakie in winter always good for now."

"Me prefer it rare," a green whining, "and this burnt in bits."

Maggat slapped the shorter minion, sending him sprawling. "You ungrateful little whiner!" he shouted. "You so rude to overlady! She go get us meat, you complain? Well, no tasty horsie for you! I say, you go to duty torturer for being so rude! Right now!"

Louise raised her eyebrows at that, but nodded. It was good to see that the smarter minions were keeping order. "Right!" she demanded, as the roasted foals were dragged off, "Gnarl! Where are you?"

"Right here, your evilness," Gnarl said from behind her.

"Is the map room working at the moment?"

He sucked in a breath through his teeth. "I'm afraid not, your darkness. Something went sproing inside it again last Watersday, and the last minion to go inside got rather mangled. The blues had to put him back together before they bought him back."

"Then we will go to the backup map room!" Louise commanded.

The backup map room was one of Louise's innovations in the field of tower design. It was a room. With maps. And calendars. And a large fireplace. And comfy chairs.

It was revolutionary.

Louise sat herself down in a comfy chair, and called for wine. Then she steepled her fingers together, the metal gauntlets clinking. "I have a plan how to get in and scout out the estate without having to risk my mother. I know my parents," she said, flatly. "They aren't as social as some other people. But they're nobility, and they have obligations, to keep up standards if nothing else. My father will regularly go elsewhere to hunt with his old friends from the army, and my mother likewise has old friends and companions who she will visit. And then there are fetes and balls they have to attend, which involve going away from home."

The girl paused, frowning. "Ideally, the perfect date would be the Silver Pentecost, because they have an extensive visiting circuit and together are outside of the house. But that's probably too long from now. Well, it's a fallback date when I know that neither of them will be in the house. That'll mean that it'll just be the staff and Cattleya there, and she is sickly and spends most of her time in her room." Louise sighed. "And she's nice. And if she found me breaking in when she thought I was dead, she'd be more likely to die of shock than try to kill me."

She sighed again, trying to rid herself of morbid thoughts of her sickly sister. "She'll be in the house, of course," she said, "but she's always ill and can't even go riding without my father there to help her if she feels sick again. Bright light gives her splitting headaches, so she sometimes goes to the library at night and reads by candle, but still. She'll either be in her room, in the library, or in the music room, so she'll be easy to avoid. And Eleanore seldom comes home anymore, because she has rooms in Amstreldamme or stays in our townhouse in Bruxelles, so she won't be an issue. And the rest will be the staff, and they're just commoners."

One of the minions listening raised a hand. "So we no have to fight Karin?" it asked. "We only have to fight the bear carpet in her room? It not dead, you see; it just scared to move."

Louise drew in a breath. Louise let out a breath. "Yes," she said, eventually. "Except my mother doesn't have a bear carpet in her room."

"It escape?" the minion asked, sounding worried.

"Anyway," she continued, raising her voice and vowing to ignore that specific minion, "Gnarl, I assume there is some way for me to track a fragment of the tower heart, given that I control most of it? Possibly using the gauntlet."

"Got it in one, your maliciousness," Gnarl said happily.

"Wonderful," Louise said, lips parting in a smirk. "Then all I need to do is sneak in – on my own – when my parents have gone to another estate for a gathering. I go in, avoid the servants, and track where the fragment is stored. I can probably search all the estate in one night, when everyone is asleep. Meanwhile," she added hastily, "a crack force of minions will be waiting outside for my orders in case I need to do things like break into a vault I don't know the entry for."

There were grumbles of unhappiness from the gathered horde.

"After all," Louise said, glaring at them, "one of my primary roles will be to make sure my mother is not there. Of course, any minions who want to go into a building where Karina of the Heavy Wind could be will be considered for a special suicide squad."

There was a collective gulp.

"We not that crazy," a red said, speaking for all of them. "We not fear her. It not fear to be scared of Karin. It logic."

"I will go!" a familiar foul-smelling green declared. "I braver than all you lot! I go with overlady to scout for her and... and if the Karin is there, I hide and hope she not see me!"

"You stupider," Maxy snapped. "Fettid, you idiot! There no be blue in there. If you get killed or fall in toilet, you dead forever!"

"I willing to take that chance!" Fettid declared. "I not let overlady go into dangerous place like den of Karin without a minion to do looking for her!"

Gnarl stroked his goatee. "Much as I think little of Fettid's brains," he said, "I do believe he accidentally was correct. Your evilness, please consider taking him as a single green minion with you. They can pass unseen, and so he can do things like scout ahead of you and make sure that there is no one in a room. Not to mention that he does have a very good sense of smell. And if everything does go wrong; why, he'll be there to help with the backstabbing and murder!"

It was the backstabbing and the murder which worried Louise, frankly. She did not want any of the murderous little monsters who followed her to be let into her parents' house. There were breakable things in there, like expensive furniture, the serving staff, and her sickly sister.

Then again, if she relented here and let one in where she could keep an eye on it, she could put her foot down on the others...

"Fine," she said, "as long as you are quite clear that if the minion fails me in there, I will not hesitate to have him killed. Permanently. There will be no room for errors like... l-like casual murders, do you understand me?"

"Yep!" the minion said cheerfully.

Louise doubted it. Oh well. She'd make it learn, if push came to shove-down-a-long-flight-of-stairs. "So," she said, "in that case, I will use a... a secret entrance way which only I know about, and Fettid will come with me. I will explore the house, using the Gauntlet to search for the fragment. I should be able to check everywhere my father would probably put it in one night, which means that if it's not there, I'll need to come back and think again. Otherwise, I should be able to get it!" Yes, this was a good plan, and... hmm.

"The main issue for this is what I'll wear," she continued. "Don't laugh. I mean it."

"I don't see what's funny," Gnarl said.

"Yep!" Maxy contributed. "Clothing is deadly serious business. Very important."

Louise blinked. "Well, yes," she said, her train of thought derailed. "Uh. Well, you see, I should wear something so even if I get seen, it won't be too suspicious. That means the armour is right out, because everyone will find out if it's seen that the dark overlady who killed the comte de Mott is breaking into the de la Vallière estate. I'll need the gauntlet, but everything else stays behind... or stays with the minions who'll be waiting outside, just in case," she corrected herself. "Also, it's noisy. Which means I should probably get Jessica to make me sneaking clothes, in black, with... like, a hood and a mask and all sorts of things to help me not be seen."

Maggat crossed his arms. "Nah," he said, casually. "All you need is sheet. White."

"A white sheet. At night. When I am trying not to be seen." Well, even the smarter minions were technically still complete and utter idiots, Louise reminded herself.

"Yeah, Maggat is right," Maxy said. "You're dead, right-right? That mean if you wear a white sheet, you a ghost. So they'll go 'argh we be haunted by dead daughter' and it all be perfectly normal." He turned to face Maxy. "But it should be thin sheet for her, like see through, and thick for Fettid."

"True, true," Maggat said, pretending to stroke a goatee he did not have, before he yelped when Gnarl hit him over the back of the head with his walking stick.

"I don't believe what I'm hearing," Louise said flatly.

"Ah," Maggat said proudly, "but your evilness! I not think you see how super-smart we is! See, because you wearing a sheet which is all thin and stuff, humies see your face and realise you ghost!"

"And not get wary because not-see-through sheet make them think you just person mucking around in sheet," Maxy agreed. "Even when you is!"

The girl pursed her lips. She… why was she listening to them? What possible reason could she have for listening to… to this? It was madness! It was stupid!

"Please, no need to shout. And for why, because we is masters of dis-guys, overlady," Maggat said.

"We dis all kinds of guys," Scyl agreed. "Fetid even get married to giant once, because we have to steal magical hammer back from race of one-eyed giants. So we find beautiful lady and Fettid loot her hair and dress and then Maggat made me be priesty to conduct marriage."

"I was best man!" Igni said.

"They not suspect a thing," Maxy said, crossing his arms. "Well, at least until Fettid stab one-eyed giant when he asleep, and then when he ask who do this thing I call in 'no one' and then when giant's friends come in, they ask 'who do this to you' and he say 'no one'." Maxy paused. "Of course, then they say 'it no look like no one, it look like someone stab you' and giant say 'no you stupids her name was no one oh the pain the pain' and then they start looking for us when we trying to run away with hammer. So perhaps that plan could have gone better. But the disguise work perfect-like!"

Louise worked her jaw. Wait. She was certain she had read that one-eyed giants were both lusty and none-too-bright and – vitally – long-sighted. So… maybe it was possible that a giant with poor eyesight – and no sense of smell – could mistake a minion for a human woman. She wasn't sure why a giant would want a human woman because… well, the mind boggled. Possibly it had been trying to trick them to be able to eat her later because… well, they weren't that bright.

Satisfied that she had a plausible chain of events set up, Louise felt it was safe to pay attention to the conversation once more.

"... and in addition, your dark ladyship," Gnarl was saying, "you have been spending rather a lot recently and so we are running low, especially after we had to pay Scarron for the information about the tower heart. Which is to say, to be honest, a sheet is about all you can afford. You can always wear your black robe underneath, so it does not work you can discard the sheet and they will think you have vanished." Gnarl shook his head, sadly. "In the lives of all the great overlords, there always comes a time when they must break into a guarded place and not be seen. Many of them consider it a great annoyance which goes against everything they stand for. It is a good thing that you are taking this so well."

Sure. Why not? Why not buy into the madness? "Fine," Louise said grumpily. "In which case, all we'll need to find out is my parents' social schedule, and I can decide the best night to strike."


...


It was a cold, crisp night almost three weeks later as Louise – remarkably glad for her gauzy sheet because it kept her warmer – and Fettid snuck their way across the estate grounds of her family house. They had already made their way past the labyrinth and that pit with the strange red-brown stains at the bottom, and were passing some disturbing-looking statues when Fettid grabbed her by the hand and pulled her into a bush.

It was not a comfortable bush, and she got the distinct feeling that she would need to wash her hand after touching him like that. Sadly, it had been her ungauntleted hand.

However, his efforts had not been unprovoked, because, wuffling, a guard and his dog made their way past the bush, the creature sniffing the air. Louise peeked out, the crescent blue moon illuminating the icy landscape, trying not to breathe.

After an eternal moment, the dog moved on, and its handler followed. Louise waited for a little longer, and let herself exhale. She tried not to inhale too deeply though, because that was not something you wanted to do when you were sharing a bush with Fettid.

Then the two of them were on the move again; Louise keeping low and to the paths to avoid noise. The green minion was a blurred patch of air ahead of her, some kind of innate magic allowing him to simply... not be there. It was a very dangerous ability, she considered, and it would be even more dangerous if minions weren't idiots.

If only she could trust her greens to be able to spy on people without randomly breaking or murdering things, she could have an incredible spy network. But alas! They were thicker than a brick sandwich, with only occasional moments of base cunning to surprise her.

Under moonlight, Louise navigated to the old lilac tree on the south side of the house. Hitching up her robe around her waist, she clambered up the tree, branches shaking under her. Carefully, she inched out along it, until she could make her way over to the elaborately gargoyle'd mantle by the branch, and clamber over. She edged along the mantle, testing each slippery gargoyle as she went, until she found the right place.

Clinging on with her toes, the dark lady gave the window a thump right at the bottom, and it bounced slightly on its frame, tilting open. Louise grinned. Those times when she'd been locked out of her bedroom – and so not allowed to get to her books – had paid off. Working her fingers under the slight opening, she flicked the catch off, and leaned out of the way as the window opened. Then it was up and through closing the window behind her, making sure to softly whisper the magic words to prevent the alarm going off. She slithered through the window, ending up in a pile on the ground, and Fettid followed her through.

Her room smelt slightly musty, though considering the conditions she had been living in for most of the past six months, 'slight mustiness' was no great offense. It was going to acquire an odour d'minion if she spent much time here, anyway.

"Gnarl," she said into her gauntlet. "I'm in my room. No one saw us getting in."

"Excellent, excellent," her advisor said, back in the nice warm tower. "Do what you need to do." He was probably sitting by a warm fire. She hated him. Just a little bit.

Fettid sniffed. "This house smell odd," he said. "Blood. Death. It smell a bit like bottom of tower. But old and stale. Not fresh."

Her family was meant to have been evil, long ago, Louise thought. And... well, it was true, her mother usually had been very insistent about having fresh flowers in the house, for as long as she could remember. That brought to mind the fact that there were normally scented candles kept on the side, and Louise went groping in the dark to try to find a tinderbox to light them.

"Oooh," she heard behind her, "I find treasure in here. Lots of clothes. I wonder what my colour is?"

"Don't loot my dresses!" Louise hissed, trying to keep her voice down. "They're mine!"

Fettid, insofar as a green-skinned wolf-cat-monkey-thing could look heartbroken, looked heartbroken. "Not even one?" he asked forlornly. "I promise to do exactly what you say!"

The overlady pursed her lips. "You may loot that blue one in the corner," she commanded. "The one with the horrible purple bow on it." She had grown out of it anyway, and blue had never really been her colour. She had preferred the pinks, the whites, the reds and the greys. It was almost as bad as that green monstrosity her mother had made her wear to her fourteenth birthday.

Hmm, that was a point, she thought, as she finally found the tinderbox. She could probably pick up some changes of clothes on her way out of here. It'd be cheaper than ordering them from Jessica, and it wasn't like she'd be found out by doing it. It'd just be blamed on the servants; everyone knew they stole clothes.

Picking up the tinderbox, Louise lit one of the candles, and turned around, lifting it high.

Oh dear.

Oh no.

There... there was a shrine set up on her bed. A painting of her, the one she'd had done at the start of her second year, just a few weeks before the abortive summoning, was propped up against the headboard, right where she would have rested her head. There were flowers, perhaps a day or two old sitting on the bed, too, and burned-out candles on saucers. And... and what looked to be prayers, handwritten sheets sealed with wax thumbprints.

Feeling as if she was in a dream, Louise stumbled over to her bed, and sat down on it heavily. She picked up one of the prayers, from the bottom of the pile. It was dated about a week after the summoning ceremony. It was for her safe return.

So was the next one.

And the next one.

And the next one.

Moving through the sediment of abandoned faith, her eyes began to blur as she got towards the top. They stopped asking for her return in... in a hopeful manner. Hope became desperation. Desperation was joined by prayers for her soul in heaven.

Eyes welling up, Louise de la Vallière blotted her eyes against her sleeve, the gauzy sheet she was wearing over her head getting damp. She was not the only one who had been crying. There were tear stains on some of the sealed prayers, too, and there was dampness on her bed.

"Oh Cattleya," she said, sadly. "I'm... I'm so sorry. I'm... please. It'll only be a little longer."

Louise took a deep breath, and squared her jaw. She stood back up, and straightened out the picture which had slanted slightly, putting the prayers back in order. She took a gulping breath, and turned to face the dress-wearing minion behind her who by now had made an impromptu hemline by ripping everything which was too long off.

"We... we need to move on," she said, sadly. "I... let's just find the fragment and get out of here. B-before. B-before I... before..." she wiped her eyes again, "before I get found by anyone."


...