Author's Note - So this formally the point where I had to start completely rewriting chapters. The hell of it is that this is STILL shorter than the original 0_0

Halkegenia Online - v2.1 - Chapter 7

As a small girl, Henrietta's favorite place in the Palace had been the Rose Room. The great hall running the length of the east wing, its many glass paned doors and windows opening onto the gardens on spring nights as magelites filled the air.

She had been too young to attend the grand balls and masquerades. But from time to time, her father, the Prince Consort, would take her in his arms and she would be allowed to glimpse what seemed like a world of wonder.

After her father had passed away, the enchantment had seemed to fade as well. Her mother had never been quite the same, Queen Marianne turning inward and handing over more of the running of the Kingdom to Cardinal Mazarin.

A more capable and loyal regent one could not hope for. But as with a father, he could not replace a Prince. The Rose Hall had fallen into disuse as the palace grew quiet. Maybe only once or twice a year would the floor be filled with waltzing guests and the air hum with music.

At all other times the room was a ghost of itself, gilded walls and frescos covered up with tarps, great chandeliers draped in canvas. Pale light washing in from the quiet gardens. Smelling of a cold and stark place, carefully preserved.

But less so recently. And particularly less so today.

One of those rare events was drawing near. The Springtime Gala that even in this spectral state was regarded as the height of Tristain's social calendar. Not even, or perhaps especially, the arrival of Faeries or the threat of war could change that.

And so the Palace had been making ready for almost two weeks. Menus were planned. Entertainment was arranged. An army of servants redoubled their cleaning and polishing and manicuring. The Rose Room blossomed into its formal glory.

But before the workmen finished their renovations there was still time to use the cavernous space in a fashion far more adventurous than its architects had intended.

At the center of the empty floor, four figures in white were in a standoff. Their faces were obscured by mesh helmets. In their hands they held slender epees. In a counter-clockwise motion, one by one, they touched the tips of their epees to the sides of their heads and then assumed en garde.

There was a moment of tension, a light footed shifting of weight as the fencers sized each other up. Then with a tentative tapping of epees the tension broke and the duel began in earnest. The Rose Hall was filled with the short sharp sound of metal striking metal. And though the duelists were dressed identically, the differences quickly became clear.

Of the four, one was a clear novice struggling to stay in the match against a seasoned opponent. But that one too, despite experience, was clearly not dueling at their best, something slowed them down, an injury, which left them much more fairly matched.

Even so, they were the first to be eliminated, the novice, and then the wounded veteran, bowing out gracefully as they received disqualifying strikes while trying to interfere in the match between the remaining partners.

It was as if . . . they had been nothing but an annoyance.

"Drat!" Princess Henrietta de Tristain lamented as she removed her mesh mask and shook the sweat from her short brown hair. Her face was flush and her voice was breathless. Rough housing with childhood playmates didn't prepare oneself for the calculated fury of a fencing match. "And here I thought I had been improving!"

"You have been improving, my dear Henrietta." Prince Wales Tudor, exile of Albion, assured her fondly as leaned lightly upon his epee. Still convalescing, even the short exertion had left him winded. "I'm afraid, however, a few weeks of practice would never match . . ." He gestured vaguely to the remaining duelists . . . "That."

It was becoming apparent now that while both were swift and both were skilled, the weight of experience leaned towards one fencer while the advantage of youth was held by the other. Their epees licked against one another, feinting and parrying as they attempted to get past the other's guard, their strikes and counter strikes rising in tempo as they inaugurated the dance floor of the rousing Rose Room with their knightley waltz.

"Care to make this a little more interesting?" The Prince asked the Princess.

"Oh?" Henrietta touched a finger to her lips and tilted her head. "What did you have in mind?"

"A small bet." Wales answered. "Though we should hurry before they spoil it for us."

Henrietta nodded, eyes drawn back to the duel. She had learned from Wales that active Knights preferred to fight by looser rules than sports duelists and would sometimes substitute a wand-epee to better simulate had foregone such measures today but it was still as if watching a life or death struggle. It was clear that the victor would be the first to capitalize on a mistake.

"You're right of course. Make your wager, quickly."

"Then I wish that you reserve your first dance for me at the Gala, highness." Wales smiled sweetly.

Henrietta blinked. "That's all? But that would already be yours. Should a bet not be for something more daring?"

"Oh? Then what is more daring than the favor of the Princess?"

"A kiss." Henrietta's cheeks and brow turned feverish.

"Kiss?"

"Yes, I wish a kiss." Henrietta said, conviction firming up.

Wales looked for a moment like he'd forgotten he was a daring Captain but recovered with admirable speed. His smile returned. "But of course." He breathed. "Of course . . . whatever you wish."

And not a moment too soon as the critical point was reached. A slip of the foot by the older fencer, caught swiftly and corrected, but not swiftly enough. The junior duelist seized the opportunity with the speed and fury of youth, a flurry of precise, ruthless thrusts rained down.

To the elder's credit, they fought valiantly to the very end, sinking to a knee, then leaning back until they were almost prone upon the floor, never ceasing to engage until with a final thrust the standing duelist placed the tip of their epee beneath the chin and with a firm voice commanded.

"Yield."

A moment of reluctance, and then the prone duelist lowered their epee, the victor deftly flicked the mesh mask from their defeated opponent, revealing wind weathered features and graying hair of Sir Hammond, Captain of the Manticore Knights.

No sooner was the Captain unmasked then his expression turned to mild surprise as his opponent offered him a helping hand to rise to his feet.

"Well met," the Captain pronounced as he stood, "Lady Asuna. I can see why the Prince thinks so highly of you."

The victorious fencer accepted a handkerchief from a servant and began to wipe sweat from her brow. The very picture of grace in spite of it all. If taking up the sword had done anything to diminish her femininity, Henrietta could not discern it as the beautiful young Faerie woman smiled in kind.

"And I can see why you are Captain of the Queen's guard." The LadyAsuna replied. "If you'd been permitted your magic, I don't think my skill with the rapier would have been enough."

Hammond nodded. "Nodoubt true. But of course, if I'd been permitted a focus, you'd have been permitted your own spellcraft."

"Please, I'm barely beginning to learn! Besides, I don't think the Queen would be happy if we ruined her dance floor." Asuna laughed warmly as clapping punctuated the air.

Their audience consisted of a mousy haired and spectacled woman a few years Henrietta's senior. Emily, Florence Windsor, exile of Albion, and with the extinction of her family's male line, the rightful Countess of Windsor.

And seated comfortably in Emily's lap, dressed in some of Henrietta's meticulously preserved springware, a beautiful black haired little girl seeming at least as many years the Princess' junior.

Her name was Yui, Kirigaya Yui, and as hard as it was to believe, this strange and sprightly child called the Lady Asuna her mother. The relationship was more complicated, in fact, Henrietta gathered. Not that this had stopped her or Emily from lavishing the girl in attention. It had become a game to see which of them could spoil Yui more under her mother's nose.

"Bravo." Emily shared in the applause. "Bravo!" Asuna bowed graciously. "I don't suppose there will be an encore?" The exile Countess sounded hopeful but was to be disappointed.

"I'm afraid this battle scar," Wales beat his breast lightly, "Is still giving me no end of trouble. So I for one must decline."

"And I must attend to my own duties." The Captain touched his epee to his temple in salute. "Highnesses, your skill and recovery progress by the day. Lady Asuna, it was a true pleasure to cross swords with you. I hope the chance to do it again when you are more comfortable with your magecraft."

The Faerie woman returned the Captain's salute and held it as he departed.

"Well that was all very bracing." Henrietta pronounced. "Now who is ready for afternoon tea?" Then frowned as she sniffed at her wrist. "Though first, a bath."

Arrangements were made. Baths were drawn and changes of clothes prepared. Luckily, nobility discarded nothing that might one day prove useful, and Royals were the noblest of all. The servants had found something suitably refined to make the Lady Asuna presentable to dine with royalty. An elegant ribonned summer dress that had come back into fashion, which Henrietta was certaine had belonged to her mother around the time she was being courted by her father.

"Much better." Henrietta sighed as they were seated about a small round table sheltered beneath a pavilion. Emily had taken off with Yui to show the young girl the play rooms in the attic so the two royals and their Faerie guest could enjoy one another's company in secluded peace.

Like the room named for it, the palace rose gardens had stirred in the mid spring air. Their blossoms opening in vivid displays of blue, lavishing their fragrance.

"So beautiful." The Lady Asuna murmured. "Tell me, are they naturally blue like that?"

Henrietta's interest piqued. "The roses? Why yes. The breed was specially created by mages some centuries ago. They are a symbol of Tristain's royal family."

"I see." The Faerie nodded thoughtfully. "In our homeland, the only way to create blue roses is to color a white blossom with dye. In fact, the blue rose was considered a symbol of the unobtainable."

How poetic, the Princess thought, and then asked. "So is botany an interest of yours?"

"Not especially." Asuna smiled. "At least, not voluntarily."

"I see." Henrietta grasped. "The burdens of etiquette?" They shared a knowing nod and then laughed, leaving Wales bemused. "But I am glad that you accepted Wales' invitation. You know, he'd never say it so plainly, but he and Emily are really quite fond of you."

"Henrietta." The Prince gave an exaggerated look of exasperation. Both girls laughed again.

"I'm well aware, your highness." Asuna accepted a cup of tea from a servant graciously. "I am very fortunate to have met both of them when I did."

"And we you." Wales said. "You saved both our lives." He could not help but touch the breast of his blouse where Henrietta knew even now the angry scar left by the Viscount Wardes had only begun to heal.

"I like to think we saved each other." Asuna answered kindly.

"A skilled fencer and skilled with words." Henrietta complimented as she sipped her tea. "It's no surprise we both like you. I for one am glad to hear you accepted Lord Mortimer's offer to serve with the regiments."

"You're too kind, highness." Asuna said. "Of course, I still need to prove myself to the other volunteers. I don't want to take up a station just on reputation alone."

"Why ever not? It's a well earned reputation by all accounts. Although I do have one question." Henriettta went on.

"Hmm?"

"Your husband, Mister Kirito," the Princess had learned well from her whiley regent, the way Asuna paused for a split second as she made to set her teacup down, "I'm sure he intends to stand in defense of your home as well. I was curious why he didn't choose to join us."

"Kirito . . . Is occupied with an important matter at this time." The Faerie woman said, the pause and the tension in her voice betraying the half-truth.

Wales was canny enough to hear it too and the young royals exchanged a look before the Prince spoke. "If there is something wrong, and there is anything we can do to help . . ."

"What? N-No." Asuna looked surprised and then almost flushed. "That is, I appreciate your concern, really, but this is something entirely personal. Actually, you may have already helped. You see, I was happy to accept your invitation, but I thought visiting the capital would also be a good way to take my mind off things. If I stay in Arrun right now, I'd just be angry."

"Angry? At Mister Kirito?" Henrietta wondered aloud. It was troubling, very troubling, to hear. It was the love of these two young Faeries that had saved her own love after all. But the Lady Asuna looked unsure. Like voicing the admission had made things more confused.

"Just angry." The Maeve decided after a moment. "I'm sorry, I must seem like a terrible guest right now."

"Not at all." Henrietta moved quickly to assure her. "It is a private matter, it was wrong for me to pry. But please, if what you need is to catch your breath, feel free to think of your time with us as a refuge. And if there is anything you wish to speak about, at any time . . ."

"Un. Of course." The tension drained from Asuna as her smile returned. "Thank you, both of you."

"On to happier things then." Wales said. "The Gala. Tell me, has Henrietta already decided on a gown for you?"

"I beg pardon?" The Princess interrupted. "I have not decided anything for Asuna!" She had simply narrowed things down to three or four acceptable choices, the palace wardrobe being what it was. She was doing the Lady Asuna a favor actually. And that shade of vermillion had been ghastly anyways.

"Henrietta has been a big help." Asuna rallied to her side. "This isn't the first formal event I've attended. But I'd have no idea where to even begin for a Royal Gala. I only wish Yui could be with us."

"I'm sure she'll be plenty entertained with the other children." Wales assured. "Though, tell me, how good is she with a dagger?"

Asuna nearly spit out her tea. "What?!"

"He's joking!" Henrietta laughed. "Well, mostly joking. Young scions can be a boisterous lot. But I'm sure Yui will hold her own." The girl certainly wasn't afraid of cuts and scrapes.

"I-I see . . . Is that all?" Asuna squinted. "Well, I suppose I know something about that as well. Though, I'd like to know more about this Gala. I know the Faerie Lords are all planning to attend. And the Queen's close allies."

"More than just that I should think." Henrietta answered. "The Crown's closest friends and its worst enemies will all be gathered to break bread, and scores of opportunists besides."

"I think I know something about that as well." Asuna sipped her tea.

"Good." Henrietta spoke plainly. "This will be an opportunity to enjoy ourselves for sure, but it's also a chance to heal wounds and build bridges with nobility still bitter about you Faeries"

"I can't say I blame them." Asuna said thoughtfully. "None of us wished for this. But the transition must have upset many things."

"It's a miracle that's all it did." Henrietta said before adding, "For the most part. Some deaths were inevitable in the confusion. My own life was rescued from danger only because God saw fit to send me General Eugene in my moment of need. And of course, beyond the loss of life is the loss of property, both in the Transition and in creating the Counties of ALfheim. The nobility who lost out approve of none of it of course. Even the ones who were harmed least are sceptical. Which is why your invitation was extended by Wales and Emily."

"There are enough rumors that Henrietta is infatuated with the Fae." Wales agreed. "Not that I begrudge her fondness, I share it. But it wouldn't do for the Princess to show favoritism. On the other hand, I have every excuse to invite one of my saviors as a personal guest."

"Of course there might be a price." Henrietta mused.

"A price?" Asuna looked between the two of them. "What price?"

"Well, you will certainly be expected to share a dance with the Prince." Henrietta explained. "Oh, not the first dance of course. I've already claimed that!"

"Is that all?" Asuna seemed relieved.

"Dare I ask how your waltz is?" Wales declined a second cup of tea from a hovering servant.

"Rusty." The Faerie woman smiled. "But nothing some practice won't solve."

"Then I think we've found our evening entertainment." Henrietta clasped her hands together. "Though we'll need to find a second dance partner. I wonder if Father Julio will be available."

"Father Julio?" Asuna asked.

"Ah, you haven't met him yet, and don't let the title confuse you, he's really quite young." Henrietta answered. "He is a Priest-Knight of Romalia. The Holy Father's personal observer here in Tristain. I'm sure he'd be delighted to meet you. "

"I thought the Church was witholding judgment on us for now." Asuna frowned as she set down her empty tea cup.

"That is most likely why he is here." Henrietta surmised. "Observing Tristain and the Fae and determining if this arrangement will be acceptable to the Holy Father. Ah . . . I don't think I need to tell you but . . "

"Be on my best behavior?" Asuna smiled and laughed.

Henrietta placed two fingers to her lips, wordlessly saying 'you didn't hear it from me.' "Although I don't think we'll have anything to worry about. Father Julio is quite a patient and forgiving young man. Not at all what I expected of the Church representative. In fact he seems to have developed a very positive opinion of your people."

They talked for a time more about idle things. The preparations for the Galla and the happenings in Tristania and Arrun. Careful, Henrietta noted, to avoid the topic of the ghastly murders and the banner flung down from Arrun tower.

They had finished noon tea, and with a little time until Henrietta was expected to join her mother and regent the Princess had decided to show her guest the way to the playrooms personally.

"They were a wonderful diversion when I was little." Henrietta explained as they crossed the checker tiled floor before the grand staircase. "Though they saw less and less use as I grew older. Honestly, I'm happy to see them opened up again. Airing them out has been like visiting an old friend." How many long lazy afternoons had she spent hidden up there?

But nostalgic thoughts of simple childhood days could not last for long before a voice in the present popped her memories like a soap bubble.

"Princess."

The voice, aged scarcely younger than Mazarin's, but devoid of the old Cardinal's mercies, greeted her curtly. Its owner, approaching from the direction of the foyer with retinue in tow, was much the same. A cold, hawkish nobleman, his iron gray hair done up in ringlets and his features set in a grimace as if he found the entire world an intolerable outrage. At that precise moment, his indignation seemed aimed at the Lady Asuna.

"Lord Justice." Henrietta curtsied, sensing the Prince and the Faerie beside her following suit. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

His eyes darted from the Princess to the Lady Asuna and back. One of his entourage stepped forward and whispered in his ear. "Hmph. I have come begging an audience with her majesty."

"Oh?"

"A petition on behalf of the collegiate, your highness." Richmond nodded, not able to take his eyes off the Lady Asuna for long.

"In regards to the Faeries?" Henrietta carefully studied the way the Lord Justice's grimace took on a more general quality. She'd learned quite a lot from her old regent. She nodded and smiled. "I'm sure I shall hear all about it. Now if you'll excuse me, I was just about to reunite the Lady Asuna with her daughter."

"Indeed." Richmond breathed, his eyes following the Faerie woman as the trio mounted the steps.

"That person," Asuna glanced over her shoulder with an uneasy expression that was impossible to completely hide away, "Who was he?"

"That was the Lord Justice." Henrietta explained. "He is the master of the legal collegiate. All of the Judges and Barristers of Tristain answer to him in matters of Crown Law on behalf of the Queen."

"So he's like the Chief Justice of Tristain." Asuna reasoned thoughtfully.

"Chief of Justice? Yes that sounds about right. Unlike Father Julio, he is not fond of the Fae." Henrietta warned after she was sure they were beyond earshot. "The position of the Lord Justice is a powerful one with very few exceptions. One of them is the Treaty of Arrun."

Asuna nodded. "I've read as much of it as I can understand without a legal education. The Counties of ALfheim don't fall under his authority, do they?"

"That is partly true." Henrietta agreed. "He can still intervene if a crime is deemed to be of interest to the Crown . . . I wonder if he's here in regards to the murders . . ."

Again Asuna became quiet and again Henrietta took note. The murders, and Mister Kirito, was Mister Kirito involved in the Faerie Court's investigation? It was becoming clear now, and with deftness she'd learned from Mazarin, Henrietta navigated away from the subject.

"In any case, I doubt he can prove his intervention is warranted. And here we are," the Princess gestured to a narrow staircase neatly hidden behind a paneled door. It did not look like the entrance to a magical world, but climbing the steps and switching back, they lead into the high framed ceiling of an attic finished in frescoes of a night sky as it might be imagined by a child all big glittering stars and the blue and red moons turned into the faces of a beautiful maiden and her comically ugly, ever pining lover.

But not all was as Henrietta remembered. The piles of stuffed animals and collections of dolls were all still there, seemingly untouched. The intricate recreation of the Palace, sprawled out on a table long enough to seat a banquet, was likewise pristine.

Instead, they found Emily and Yui at the far end of the playroom.

"Those are grandfather's old toys." Henrietta murmured as she surveyed a pair of perfectly matched red and blue tin regiments that seemed to have just fought a pitched battle across the playroom floor. The left flank was especially bloodied with the red regiment struggling to make headway across the heavily piled terrain and taking serious losses to secure the strongpoint, a wooden toy castle upon a bluff of children's storybooks.

Everywhere the princess looked, red and blue clad soldiers lay toppled. But a victor had won out in the end, the blue regiment corralling up its vanquished foes and marching them back towards the toy box to await the next battle.

Sitting fretfully at a nearby table, Emily pouted, leaving no doubt to the identity of each army's general.

"The Kingdom." Emily moaned.

"Huh?" Asuna looked at the mousty young countess confused.

"For want of a battle I lost the Kingdom!"

"An imaginary Kingdom I hope." Henrietta said.

And as for the victor . . .

Yui emerged from a chest of play props, a costume crown atop her head and wielding a toy scepter.

For a moment the Lady Asuna looked bemused, but confusion quickly turned to a smile. "To the victor goes the spoils?"

Kirigaya Yui looked surprised to see her mother, but then smiling proudly, she nodded and thrust the scepter into the air. "I shall be a benevolent tyrant!"

"Well." Wales mused. "I don't think she'll have any trouble holding her own."


COURT KILLER UNMASKED!

Freelia, in the early hours of Wodinsdag, an attack was perpetrated on the grounds of the Sunshine Tabby Inn. This story was originally reported in issue seventeen. Since then, witness testimony has identified the attacker as RipJack, a known Spriggan ganker and unrepatriated renegade who is believed responsible for the murder of three officers of the Faerie Court . . .

Sakuya's eyes darted across the broadsheet. Her fingertips registered paper of quality that couldn't have been bought in Japan at any price. The sort of paper that had inspired the term 'Yellow Journalism'. But, giving credit where it was due, the Guild Ad Libitum were no muckrakers. Everything reported was the truth, as best as could be determined, unadorned and unbiased.

"The press knows almost as much as we do." The Sylph Lord sighed as she let the broadsheet fall atop her desk.

"Y'know, you're going to get wrinkles, making expressions like that" Said the Cait Lord sprawled supine across an office sofa.

"You're taking this rather well." Sakuya rested a cheek against her knuckles. The comment elicited a small stretch and a yawn from Alicia, the feline equivalent of a shrug.

"I'm good at compartmentalizing. We already knew this part was going to happen. No sense getting upset about it all over again."

"Hmm." The Sylph sounded noncommittally before a knock sounded at the door. "Enter." Sakuya rose as Ephi stepped inside.

"Sakuya-sama, Alicia-sama." Her guard gave a curt nod to them both. "It's time."

The Sylph gave her office a final look. From the vantage of the tower the patchwork countryside of Tristain stretched out to the horizon in the light of a late afternoon. Turning, Sakuya took the lead, Alicia falling in beside, her guard following close at hand.

"Ephi."

"Sakuya-sama?"

"You just arrived from ground level. How has the public been taking the news?"

Her guard was silent for a moment, frowning as he considered the question. "About as you must expect, my Lady. Fear, but also anger. At Rip Jack as well as the Court."

"Of course." Sakuya sighed inwardly. The Court had failed to protect its own, after all.

But that same anger cut both ways. Revealing Rip Jack's identity tore at the mystique that had cloaked him. The shadowy killer was reduced to a mere murderer and fear was overcome by outrage.

The Watch had been placed on high alert and a manhunt had been called. They would track Rip Jack down and corner him like a dangerous animal. There was only one other detail to consider.

"I have half a mind to just say it myself." She thought aloud as together they boarded an elevator bound for the ground floor. "Rip off the bandage."

"Nyeh?" Alicia's ears twitched. "You don't mean . . ."

"But is that really wise, Sakuya-sama?" Ephi asked beside her. She gave him a look that caused the Sylph warrior to hesitate. "I . . . Apologize. I spoke out of turn."

"No." Sakuya shook her head, swiping aside a stray strand of hair. "I'd like to hear your thoughts."

Tension faded from her guard. "You should not doubt your prior judgment, Sakuya-sama." Ephi explained. "Mortimer must be the one to admit the connection between himself and Rip Jack. Doing it yourself will only breed more suspicion than is absolutely necessary."

"I know that." Sakuya bit her lip. "I know Mortimer has to be the one to say it. But will he?"

"Do not fear, Sakuya-sama, remember, I have worked with Mortimer-sama before in my time as a Salamander. He will speak the truth himself, if only to retain some control over it."

The Sylph Lord nodded slowly. Her guard spoke sense. And as their elevator slowed to a stop, she studied him. Ephi was no replacement for Novair. But there was more to him than a simple sword arm. She would have to remember that, Sakuya thought. Then the elevator doors opened and they stepped out into the whirlwind of activity filling the tower atrium.

One of the first things Sakura had done after finding herself incomprehensibly put in charge of what amounted to a community of refugees was gone about picking the brains of every SAO survivor she could find.

There had been more of them laying about than she would have expected. Odd, to say the least.

The two situations bore only the most passing of resemblance. But Aincrad was still the nearest thing to prior experience to learn from. The only reference they had to predict what might happen.

What the Sylph Lord had learned was that Sword Art had been a selfish affair. Even the heroic Front Line had been motivated first out of self interest and helping their fellow trapped players a distant second.

Why hadn't the same happened here? The question that so frequently consumed her as she tried to fall asleep.

Was it the pre-existing positions of the Lords? Some semblance of order and authority for the Fae to rally around?

Sakura tried not to flatter herself, but try as she might, she couldn't deny that the likes of Mortimer had a certain something that attracted people to his banner. He'd turned a quarreling mob into a well organized machine stomping on the other factions, and in return they'd loved him for it. And then there was Morgiana's . . . everything . . .

On the other hand, there were Lords like . . .

"Ah Sakuya!" A voice that attempted to effect a rumble, but came closer to gargling gravel, called for her attention.
"Lord Rute." Sakuya smiled at the Leprechaun who seemed scarcely taller than he was wide. An effect aided by the shoulder braiding of his red jacket. "I'm truly grateful you could lend us your . . . position tonight . . ."

"Hrrm? Yes well, trying times and all that." The Leprechaun Lord stroked at the immaculate metallic mustache that covered his upper lip. "Fear not, Sakuya, now that he's been exposed, we'll run this black guard to ground, I say!"

Being an MMO, ALfheim had been blessed with no shortage of beautiful avatars, even the most humble of which could be called calmly. Yet Rute was not one of them. It certainly made him stand out from a crowd of Faeries, provided he was standing at the front.

"Hrrm? Sakuya? Is there something on my face?" Rute frowned. Which was to say his brow furrowed and his mustache quivered. "Mishiro?"

"No, there is nothing, My Lord." A woman answered coolly.

If Rute was the exception, then his head secretary proved the rule. Tall, bordering on statuesque, and cream skinned, her hair a dark burnished bronze pulled back in a high ponytail. She carried herself with a professional poise, and seemed wholly attentive to her employer, until her eyes darted to Sakuya, like hard, appraising gemstones.

"However," Mishiro observed, "the broadcast is scheduled to commence shortly. We should hurry."

"Yes yes." Rute waved her off. "You have my notes?"

"Here, Sir." Mishiro supplied. "Key points are underlined in red. Bring up the lines in blue if you have the chance . . ."

"Hrrm. This isn't Takao's handwriting."

"Saki has been handling your speeches. I felt it was better to stay consistent with your written address . . ."

Sakuya regarded this thoughtfully. Perhaps, given enough capable women at his back, even a man like Rute could be propelled to greatness.

The Leprechaun began waddling off, beckoning Sakuya to follow as he studied a thick handful of handwritten cards. "Of course, I'm always happy to be of service but, hrrm, I have to ask why a bounty hasn't been posted. This killer is a dangerous fellow!"

"It is exactly because he is dangerous, Rute." Sakuya explained. "He's killed three of our best, and managed to match blades with a forth, if only for a moment. The last thing we need is to inspire reckless bravado by posting a bounty for his capture." There were far too many young Faeries who were still far too impressed with themselves. "There will be a reward, for accurate reports of his whereabouts, but the Court will apprehend him."

"Hrrm. Prudent." Rute agreed. "Very prudent. Well, when it comes to posting your reward, you can trust that the treasury will spare no expense, I say!"

"Appreciated, as always, Rute." Sakuya smiled, for underneath the mannerisms and rolly polly physique, Rute was a reliable enough little fellow. Certainly more instrumental to their day to day efforts than anyone save perhaps . . .

"Sakuya!" The Sylph brightened as she caught sight of ALfheim's most newly minted Lord.

"Thinker," Sakuya greeted warmly. "I'm sorry, I should have found a moment to contact you before now. Congratulations on your election. The people of Orlein have made an excellent choice."

"So Yulier keeps telling me." The Undine laughed with the congenial ease of a born web personality. "I only hope I can live up to their expectations." His features briefly turned troubled. "To be honest, Orlein alone is more people than I was even notionally responsible for in Aincrad. And I'm afraid I made a mess of that in the end."

"And that is why your experience is so valuable." Sakuya told him. "We need leaders who have weathered storms and disasters, as many as we can find."

"Well then, I hope I can lend my voice to our cause." Thinker replied as they passed under the archways of the tower entrance and out under a darkening evening sky.

There was an amphitheater attached to the rear of Arrun tower, with enough seats for half the city's permanent residents. Every one of them was full, and branches of nearby trees swayed with lighter Faeries casting magnification and Peeper spells to listen in.

Ringing the stage was a perimeter of the City Watch, Faeries whose green coats and bronze badges marked their Loyalty to Arrun above any faction or Lord. Their Captain, a wiry and grizzled Spriggan, passed between his officers, barking gruff orders as he went. He seemed rough with them, but if anything his presence was comfort, at times like these, Sakura too longed for someone who seemed to know what they were doing, who she could put her own trust in.

Within the Watch perimeter stood ten silver ovals through which Sakuya glimpsed other crowds, in other cities. Although she did not catch sight with her brief glance, and the shine of the mirrors obscured the audience from the stage, one of them was even being cast directly to the Royal Palace.

It seemed the Queen herself wanted to see how her newest subjects handled these matters.

"You alright, Sakura-chan." Alicia whispered at her side.

"Feels like nationals." She admitted.

"So no pressure then." The Cait squeaked cheerfully. "Come on, let's knock-m-dead!"

If this were nationals, Sakuya thought, then that would make the man already waiting patiently upon the stage, her final opponent.

"Mortimer." Sakuya greeted coolly, her greeting met with a slow and reptilian blink of eyes. Somewhere in the darkness a bell was sounded, urging people to take their seats and be silent. The Lords took their places as well. Sakuya in the center, Mortimer and Thinker too her left, Alicia and Rute to her right.

Sakuya closed her eyes, breathed, and waited for her cue, the memory of sour sweat and mouth guards coming to her. She tried not to smile.

'Nationals eh?'

If only. Those past milestones seemed so unimportant now as Sakura stepped forward, opened her eyes and spoke.

"Good evening to all of . . . " Lady Sakuya began.


"And I am to understand that anyone can propose these questions?" Prince Wales Tudor questioned. "And the Lords will be compelled to answer?"

"That's about right." Asuna answered from her place at his right side. "The questions are chosen by popular consent, and then the Lords try their best to answer them.

Wales eyed his friend thoughtfully.

Before dinner, Henrietta had spirited Asuna off, and when they had returned, the Faerie had changed once more into evening attire, a graceful cream gown that left her shoulders bare and her bosom bedecked in pearls, the long hair that was her pride had been bundled up loosely, a few spare locks falling to the small of her back. She played with them fretfully as she smiled.

The prince weighed the Faerie idea in his mind, like he might an unfamiliar cutlass. "And what recourse do the Lords have if the answer to a question proves embarrassing?"

"Only their own wits, I suppose." The Maeve replied.

"Hmm."

"What?"

"I still think Lady Sakuya and the others are taking a needless risk." Wales answered. "There's more to be lost than gained in this mode of address."

"Oh Sakuya can do as she thinks right." To his left, Henrietta chided. "Now shush, it's about to start."

Wales settled back in his chair, declining to argue the matter with his cousin, and instead joining her and Asuna in peering through the quicksilver surface that had conjured itself beneath the skylights and before the ranks of nobility seated nine wide and five deep.

The Moonlight Mirror glowed brighter for a moment, and then, as the light cleared, the environs of far off Arrun became visible. An amphitheater, a stage before the sheer, smooth stone, of Arrun tower, and the Lords presiding upon it.

"Good evening to you all . . . " Lady Sakuya began. The Sylph Lord was in fine form, gathering all of her unearthly presence to silence the murmur of the invisible audience with just her words. "Good evening to you. From Tau Tona in the North, to Gaddan in the South. From Freelia to Orlein. Most of all, a very good evening to her Majesty Queen Marianne, under whose grace we shelter." The Sylph bowed her head, her river of dark hair rippling. "God save the Queen."

All around Wales, surprised reflexive murmurs of 'God Save the Queen' answered, and Queen Marianne, seated front and center, nodded her head in silent assent.

"Tonight, we are gathered to hear matters of the greatest concern regarding the safety and security of ALfheim. Among those subjects will be matters of war, and the crimes of the Spriggan assassin Rip Jack. All of your questions will be answered in due time. But first, I would like to ask a favor of you, of each of you." The Sylph gazed coolly across the near distance, except for a moment, where her eyes darted down, and seemed to gaze through the mirror, into the Rose Room.

"Please, I would like you to look to your left, and to your right. To the people in front of and behind you." The audience around Wales cast their eyes about, unsure. "Tonight, I see Sylphs and Salamanders, Spriggans and Puca, all sitting side by side. Faeries of every faction. This heartens me."

"You have all no doubt heard the terrible rumors that have spread in Rip-Jack's wake. Fearful, untruthful rumors. Yes, we are afraid, but we are not afraid of each other. And in this, the murderer has already failed. We will find him, we will capture Rip Jack, and we will bring him to justice. Now . . . There are many more matters to speak of tonight, and we will return to this subject in due time. We Lords are your humble servants, therefore, I now open the floor to questions addressed from the Citizens of ALfheim."

Silence filled the air as Sakuya stepped back, but before the audience could begin to fill it, the moment was broken by a clear, bright, and lively voice that took the Sylph's Lords place.

"Goooood evening everybody!" A tone and pronunciation that embodied effervescence, it's owner, a slender Puca affecting the appearance of an orchestral conductor, stepped across the stage, bathed in a trailing pool of light.

"This is Puca Master of Ceremonies Noel here serving as tonight's proctor! But before we begin, I want to remind everyone of the format. It's a lot like the FAQs, but tonight, every question will be given a live response on stage. Any Lord can still volunteer to answer though. Now that's out of the way, on to the first!"

Miss Noel held her conductor's wand to her lips with one gloved hand, and a stack of cards in the other. Reading the first, she began :

"Our first question for the evening comes from a Sylph courier who makes the route to all of the settlements. They say that they've witnessed extreme fluctuations in the prices of goods from day to day and place to place. Not only things like fresh food and mats, but durable goods, and even paper as well. They claim this is playing havoc with their business and wanted to know when the Lord's believe prices will stabilize."

A sensible question to open with, Wales reasoned. Murderers and wars came and went, but every day, the people bought bread.

"Hrrm!" A deep grumble announced Lord Rute as the stout Leprechaun trundled forward. "I believe this falls under my Domain, Noel-san." Wasting no time, Rute grabbed hold off the offered wand and directed it towards himself.

"First of all, it must be understood, it is essential that it is understood, that despite the Kingdom's high level of development, the economy of Tristain is unimaginably primitive compared to what we are all used to . . ."

'Primitive?' Wales mouthed to Asuna, to which the Maeve could only sheepishly smile and shrug. Murmurs went up from the surrounding nobles, many of them less than generous. The Prince settled in for what would, no doubt, be an instructive evening . . ."


Things were going well, Sakuya thought, she daren't look a gift horse in the mouth, but she'd almost say they were going too well, a few rough patches aside.

Luckily the combination of Arisa and a cat-girl form verged on being a psychological weapon.

"Thank you again, Lady Alicia, for all of your insight regarding the status of mob cultivation." Noel nodded as the Cait Lord stretched lazily on her way back to her place. "It was an education! Though our next question may strike some as being of a far more dire nature. I am of course speaking about the topic of Albion and the possibility of war with the White Isle."

Sakuya nodded inwardly as she noticed the way Noel, almost unconsciously, directed her words toward the Salamander Lord in a way that even the Sylph found natural. For all of her misgiving, she couldn't deny that Mortimer had seamlessly moved to occupy the position of 'War Leader' in the minds of every Faerie in ALfheim.

"A Cait Syth living in Freelia has watched every day as Tristain's army constructs defensive works on the island and fortifies the city walls with cannons. They wonder now how safe their home will be in the event of war and whether conflict is truly inevitable. No doubt much of the Court's strategy must remain secret for reasons of National security, but could anything be shared with the public at this time?"

With a slow and reptilian Blink Mortimer stepped forward. "Why yes, Noel-san. There is in fact a great deal that can be discussed."

Sakuya watched him carefully. Mortimer had declined to speak much in the early parts of the evening, reserving his voice for military matters. That was part of the plan, of course, presenting a methodical and coherent front would allow Mortimer to reveal his association with Rip Jack as a security concern, one which he would address openly.

"First, let us dispense with vagaries. I sympathize with the majority of my fellow Faeries, who wish for peace rather than war. It is in the finest tradition of our homeland to reject conflict. However, the decision to go to war does not lie with me, or the Faerie Court, nor even truly with Tristain. It takes only one party to initiate a conflict, and that party is the Kingdom . . . no . . . The occupied nation of Albion, whose ambitions regarding Tristain were established before we ever arrived."

"What you're saying is that war . . . is a certainty?" Noel asked to clarify.

"Unless Albion is broken completely of its capability to sustain war, yes, war will remain inevitable. The terms of surrender, both for Tristain and ourselves, are unacceptable, and Reconquista is ideological incapable of accepting less than total capitulation. That is why we must prepare."

Sakuya sensed the cooling effect that Mortimer's words had almost at once on the convivial atmosphere that had been left by Alicia's segment. But there was no helping it.

"At this time the Crown of Tristain has acknowledged Albion's declaration of War and begun the raising of a national army. Tristain, even without the counties of ALfheim, should be able to commission a force of around eighty thousand."

"And with the Counties?" Noel asked. "Doesn't the Treaty of ALfheim stipulate that we are to supply soldiers in times of war? Are people going to get drafted?"

"Levies for the Crown." Mortimer replied. "That is a distant possibility, although unlikely even if we did not have enough volunteers. Signing the Treaty of ALfheim was not the end of negotiations with our hosts and it has been established that the Court's contributions to the War Effort may be paid in service other than combat."

"Other than combat? That would be the armories in Goibniu, right?"

"The Leprechaun's will be instrumental in our efforts to help supply Tristain's army," the Salamander agreed, "think of it as an extension of our industrial partnership with Tristain."

"And you mentioned volunteers, Lord Mortimer?"

"Of course we could not avoid supplying manpower entirely." Mortimer continued. "In particular for the defense of our own holdings. The Court has decided to consolidate our military forces into a unified Self Defense Force. This unit will be formed from volunteers and serve alongside the Royal army in defense of Tristain and the Counties of ALfheim."

"Defense?" Noel repeated, searching quickly through her cards. "That's another question that's been asked. It's no secret that Tristain is also allied to the Albion Royalists, who no doubt wish to retake their homeland. In that case, would the Defense forces participate in offensive operations as well?"

Sakuya held her breath and waited to see how Mortimer would answer.

"I'm sorry." The Salamander Lord frowned. "Could you clarify what you mean by 'offensive operations'?"

"Uhm well . . . The question specifically asks about participating in more offensive operations," Noel clarified, "Like the raids at York and Newcastle."

"I see." Mortimer closed his eyes and meditated. "Those operations were defensive in nature."

"Huh?" The Puca Proctor blinked owlishly. "But . . ."

"It must be understood that the naval forces harbored at York would have been the vanguard for striking Tristain. Likewise, by rescuing the surviving Royalists, we and our Tristanian allies denied Reconquista a quick political consolidation. Together, these operations bought us weeks or even months to prepare our own defenses."

"And . . . When the defense of Tristain is successful." Noel reasoned. "What then?"

"That . . ." Mortimer breathed. "Remains to be seen . . ."

"Uhm, meaning?"

"Any number of things, contingent on any number of things. The actual details are impossible to guess as we do not yet have even an inkling of their shape. I do apologize Noel-san, I am devoted to matters of practicality. The immediate fight is where my attention must lay. I would therefore like to return to the original question. Are the settlements safe? I believe the answer to be yes, most of them at least."

"Most?" Noel's voice was tinged by urgency. "So which ones would you deem unsafe?"

"Not so much unsafe as at risk." Mortimer elaborated. Then, showing more tact that Sakuya thought possible. "Again, I apologize to you all. I'm afraid I am of more use at a map table. Perhaps it would be possible to perform a simple thought exercise?"

"I would like you all to imagine a simple map of Tristain. Now imagine a circle just within the Kingdom's borders. On this circle there are nine points representing our settlements, and a tenth point near the center of the circle, that is Arrun."

To Sakuya's surprise, she could see more eyes closed then open among the audience. Each Faerie imagining the picture that Mortimer painted with his words.

"Now I would like you all to imagine Albion, floating someplace over the ocean. The exact position of the Isle varies over the course of Lunar calendar, but regardless, it should be clear that Albion lies closest to the North west of Tristain and thus we should expect an invasion to strike there."

Noel wrinkled her brow in thought. "But I don't get it. Doesn't Albion have airships? Why would they need to invade near the coast? Wouldn't it make more sense to seize the element of surprise?"

"Any surprise gained by landing elsewhere would be offset by the longer journey, Noel-san." Mortimer explained patiently. "Albion must land its army in Tristain before its beachheads are overrun and annihilated in detail. That means making the shortest round trip possible. Shorter distance also reduce exposing their transports to interception. This places Freelia, Cadenza, and Tau Tona at heightened risk."

"I . . . see . . ." To her credit, the Puca recovered from the casual mention of her home under threat and quickly pushed on. "But Tau Tona is pretty much underground, right? No way Albion can bombard that from the sky!"

"That is observantly correct, Noel-san. It is the prevailing wisdom that Tau Tona will prove almost immune to aerial bombardment. And Reconquista can little spare the forces to reduce the settlement directly. Therefore it will most likely be bypassed. Freelia has a tempting natural harbor, but would prove almost as difficult to storm, and the island offers an excellent firing point. Which leaves . . . "

"Cadenza." Noel finished for him.

"And the nearby region of Tarbes, which could serve as an excellent landing field for the army." Mortimer agreed. "That still does not mean Cadenza need be abandoned." Noel, and the audience by proxy, brightened."Tristain knows all of this as well as Albion and will be stationing a strong force in the region. And the fortifications that are being constructed will make even Cadenza an unappealing target."

"The inverse of what I say is also true, both distance and natural defense mean that the other cities are unlikely to be targeted in the initial phases of an invasion. But please, all of you, keep in mind that these are only predictions based on our best knowledge. While I would discourage making plans to abandon your homes, keep abreast of the news, and be ready to act accordingly in the days ahead. Now," with a slow reptilian blink of blood red eyes, Mortimer looked coolly to Noel, "I believe that answers the question in full."

"Y-Yes . . . T-thank you Mortimer-sama!" The Salamander turned and stepped away from the center place. It was only then that Sakuya realized she was beginning to feel light headed, and finally took another breath.

They'd gotten through the first part. Mortimer had presented himself as a security minded Lord. Now came the hard part . . .

Noel seemed as reluctant as any of the Lords as she double checked the next topic. An almost sympathetic pause filled the air, as if giving them all time to brace themselves.

"We're coming to the end of our evening. But before the Lords retire, one of the most requested questions comes to us from a concerned citizen here in Arrun. They ask," Noel licked her lips, swallowed, and continued only when she looked fully ready, "In regards to the recent string of murders, and the uncovered identity of Rip Jack, what steps is the court taking to protect the settlements and bring the criminal to justice?"

Sakuya's eyes darted to Mortimer. The Salamander Lord stood, rooted in place. Neither nervous nor biding his time. For a moment their eyes met, and the Sylph grimaced, there was no better time!

And yet . . .

"It's okay." Sakuya tore herself away from the Salamander as Thinker walked by. "I'll handle this one, and then Mortimer can speak." Turning from Sakuya, Thinker assumed a grave and yet somehow optimistic expression as he joined Noel at the center of the stage.

"That is an excellent question Noel-san, if you would please allow it, I would like to take the lead. Good evening to everyone, most of you have probably not heard much of me, I am Thinker of the Undine, elected first count of Orlein, and if you actually have heard anything about me . . ."


" . . . and if you actually have heard anything about me, then it's probably that I am an SAO survivor. It's for this reason that I would like to share my thoughts on the Rip Jack killings."

"How wretched." Henrietta murmured to Wales right. It was the closest thing to thoughtlessness he'd ever known from her, not noticing the way that Asuna grimaced and tightly clasped her hands. The conversation playing out on the other side of the mirror clearly stirred strong feelings in the Maeve.

Wales thought to offer a gentle hand upon her shoulder while he studied the Count of Orlein. Thinker was not an impressive man, at least Wales did not think so, lacking the presence of Lady Sakuya and the composure of Lord Mortimer. And yet the people seemed as inclined to listen to him when he bade speak.

"Now, to answer the question, the apprehension of the murderer Rip Jack is presently one of our highest priorities. A bounty has been placed for information leading to his capture and a manhunt is being organized as we speak. We are also working closely with the Tristanian authorities in this matter in the event that Rip Jack is hiding outside of the Counties of ALfheim."

"Have you heard anything about that?" Asuna whispered to Wales. The Prince hardly needed to guess at the anxiety deep in her soft brown eyes.

"I'm afraid my own duties rarely crossover with Tristain's internal affairs." Wales admitted. He concerned himself with enemies from without. But knowing Asuna, and wanting to put her mind at ease, he added. "I believe there is a lieutenant attached to the Royal Musketeers who might know something about it . . ."

Then the Undine Lord turned thoughtful as he gave his words a moment to sink in. "It is our dearest wish that people remain safe. The bounty as stated is for information leading to Rip Jack's capture, not for seeking glory and attempting to apprehend him independently. I cannot stress enough that the murderer is very dangerous. The Court has many able volunteers at our disposal who have been tested and proven in patrols or as part of the Newcastle Operation, and they are ready to apprehend Rip Jack when he is found. In the meantime, the Watch is being reinforced and the Spriggans are organizing a contingent of illusion masters to assist each settlement."

"All very sensible precautions, Thinker Sama." Noel pronounced. "While we still have you here, I'd like to skip ahead to a related question that you might be able to answer for us."

"By all means." The Undine nodded.

"This question also comes from here in Arrun. The author asks if we can be sure that Rip Jack is acting alone. They say that they read about a similar case in interviews about the SAO incident, about an entire organization of murderers. Thinker-sama, as an SAO Survivor yourself, what are your thoughts on this matter?"

Lord Thinker closed his eyes and crossed his arms, his features taking on the gravity of some past experience. An old soldier remembering an ugly war, Wales reckoned. "I don't know what everyone may have read in articles and interviews with other SAO survivors, but it is true that there existed a guild of players who deliberately went about killing others while knowing the consequence of their actions."

Wales wrinkled his nose. Asuna had mentioned them in passing the few times she had opened to him and Henrietta about her confinement in that fantastical castle, moments of trust that honored him. Though there had been fond recollections as well, when the men and women who had betrayed decency were mentioned, there had only been disappointment. Loathing, Wales thought, was the warranted emotion, and he was not the only one.

Sitting closer to the Queen, the Lord Justice murmured just loudly enough for the Prince to catch a few snatches. "See, your Majesty? They are not without their own treachery!" Asuna heard it too, and Wales sensed the way she bristled at the insult to her people. The voices from the mirror picked up again.

"The so called Laughing Coffins?" Noel sought to clarify.

Thinker nodded. "But I am sceptical we will see that phenomenon repeat in the case of Rip Jack." He paused to give the murmuring of the crowd time to settle. "Before the transition, no satisfying conclusion had yet been reached about the motivations that drove the Laughing Coffin guild. Many people pointed to a charismatic figure. But I believe that Laughing Coffin also represented a breakdown in the social fabric of the people trapped within Aincrad of a type that we have not seen repeating here in Tristain. While I wouldn't rule anything out, I find it doubtful Rip Jack will have much success recruiting."

"Thank you, Thinker-sama." Noel said. "I believe that explains things nicely. I would now like to open the floor to the lotteried questions . . ."

"Noel-san." Lord Mortimer had stepped forward, seemingly without prompting.

"Mortimer-sama?" Noel queried. "Do you have something you'd like to add?"

Lord Thinker, appearing briefly bemused, smiled and began to step aside.

"There is one final matter I'd wish to discuss," Mortimer began solemnly, "And now seems the ideal moment to . . ."

"To what?! To spread more of your propaganda Mortimer-sama." The way the Faerie honorific was spoken, dripping with contempt, it seemed no honor at all.

"Oh." Henrietta murmured.

Yes, Wales thought. 'Oh.'

The Lords on stage looked about for the source of the voice, coming from someplace outside the mirror's field of view. The audience in the Palace had only the words of Lady Sakuya for guidance as the Sylph Lord's eyes narrowed, turning to face the source of the disturbance.

She uttered one word with such non recognition that it too almost amounted to a curse. "Rio."


"Rio."

Sakuya uttered the name like a curse. Like an actual magic spell. And like a spell, the moment the sound passed her lips, it took effect.

"Yes! It is I, Rio!" A man's voice boomed, deep and pleasingly masculine, annoyingly so Sakuya thought.

It completely suited the form of its owner, striding down the center aisle as spot lights follow him, cast by his followers orbiting high overhead. If there was ever a Faerie who could have been ripped from the back of the ALO box, it was Rio.

A tall and lean physique, the collar of his robes left open to expose a smooth muscular chest. Long emerald hair framed a face so stereotypically chiseled that it came full circle to being dull again.

From the corner of her eye, Sakuya witnessed Mortimer making a subtle gesture to the Watch Captain, who nodded and set his men moving to block Rio's way.

But the Sylph had planned for that, not breaking stride as he was overtaken by a quartet of burly Gnomes. The guards, Salamanders and Sylphs, stumbled to a halt, readying for a fight that never came. As one, the Gnomes barreled between them, never so much as raising a hand, and then with coordination that would have made the Lancers proud, and so sudden they sent the guards jumping back, they about-faced, peacefully wedging open a breach in the cordon for their leader to walk right through.

A murmur rippled out across the audience, emanating from those nearest to Rio and his followers. Sakuya grimaced, this was no good, people had gathered to hear the Lords for the sake of assurance, and here was Rio spreading confusion. More guards advanced to put themselves in Rio's path, but before their Captain could give the decisive order, Sakuya responded, raising a hand, the officers hesitated.

"Rio." Sakuya said again, addressing her fellow Sylph directly for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. In a way it was. A different time, a different place, a different world. But the same Rio she realized as he stood off, hands on hips, no doubt thinking himself very heroic. "I am always pleased to see the Sylphs taking an active role in things . . . But you must admit this is unusual . . ."

To which Rio threw his head back and laughed. "And what is not unusual about these days, Sakuya-sama?! We find ourselves in extraordinary times, and they demand extraordinary measures. But, let it be known that I am well within my rights to stand here!"

"You have no such right to disrupt a public address." Mortimer growled, making another gesture to the Watch Captain and again being countermanded by Sakuya. The Captain looked increasingly impatient, not that the Sylph Lord could bring herself to care.

"Ah but I do indeed!" Rio plucked something from his pocket and waved it for all to see. An ornate silver token in the form of the Sylph crest. "This is a lottery token for the open forum, it entitles me to ask a question of the gathered Lords, does it not?"

"It is . . . very convenient . . . that you would win something like that, Rio." Mortimer's eyes narrowed.

"If you must know, it was entrusted to me by my guild. I speak on the behalf of all the ABC."

"Then the right to speak is not yours." Mortimer snapped. "I do not . . ."

A small sound interrupted the Salamander before her could go further. Noel smiled nervously as she waved for attention. "Uhm, actually, Mortimer-sama, there's no rule against that."

The Salamander Lord seemed determined to immolate the Puca with just his eyes. "Very well." He grit his teeth. "I was mistaken, Rio-san. If that token is authentic, you are of course entitled to speak."

"Oh it's authentic alright, Mortimer-sama." He offered the mark to a Guard who inspected and confirmed it. The voices of the audience grew louder, threatening to drown out the speakers on stage, even with Puca magic.

Something had to be done . . .

"The Lords recognize Rio of the Sylphs, guildmaster of the ABC." Sakuya pronounced as formally as improvisation would allow.

Rio's features turned triumphant as he surrendered the token to a waiting guard, and then turned to address the audience. "Good evening everyone. As Sakuya so graciously introduced, I am Rio, some of you have no doubt read my musings in the paper. But for those who do not, I am simply an ordinary gamer, like all of you, who has been caught up in extraordinary circumstances."

Sakuya's eyes narrowed. 'Simply an ordinary gamer' was far too humble a self description for the likes of Rio. But he read from a script well, she couldn't deny that.

"And like the rest of you, I too was stunned, shocked into silence by the events that transpired to bring us here, to this land of swords and sorcery and dire danger! So overwhelmed was I, in fact, that it was only with the help of my Loyal Guild that I regained my wits, and only then did I being to examine and question . . ."

"Yes, there's supposed to be a question in there somewhere, I believe." Mortimer interrupted.

Rio's facade broke into a momentary scowl before being masked by a genial smile. "Of course. I apologize to the audience for the . . . theatrics. I fear I have more background in theater than public speaking." The audience stirred to a mild chuckle at the faux humility. "I have watched and I have listened tonight, alongside the many able members of my guild without whom I would be nothing, but I can watch and listen no longer!"

Pointing a finger straight at Lord Mortimer. "Mortimer-sama, you said that this war between Tristain and Albion is inevitable. But it is also true that under your orders, Faeries participated in Tristain's raids against Albion? You made us co-belligerents in this war!"

The Salamander's eyes widened and then narrowed. "As . . . I already explained . . ." He began slowly. "Those were defensive actions preempting Albion's own invasion. A declaration of war had already been made."

"A declaration that the Lords knew about before the Treaty of ALfheim was signed!" The accusation hung in the air. It wasn't long before the uneasy mutterings began.

"That is not a secret." Mortimer answered calmly.

"No." Rio agreed, crossing his arms. "But your motives are."

"That we didn't have a lot of time or options?" Alicia interjected. "Because we didn't have a lot of time or options. This isn't like a quest we can just pause whenever we like, you know?"

"Albion poses a common threat to us all." Mortimer glared down at Rio. "What would you have us do?"

"Perhaps fight, or perhaps . . . perhaps nothing."

"Nothing?" The Salamander scoffed. "You do know the terms of Tristain's surrender? We would be forced to abandon our territory, to be scattered to the winds. Is that what you want?"

"Reconquista's grudge is with elves!" Rio's voice rose. "Tell me, Mortimer-sama are you a secret Elf? Sakuya-sama, are you? Conflict might have been avoided if a dialogue was kept open. Now, we will never know. This was not our fight before the treaty was signed and we attacked Albion's fleet. But you made it so."

"Three hundred of our people were in danger." Mortimer's voice fell to a growl, his patience was growing thin.

"So instead you endangered nearly seventy thousand? You didn't even consider negotiating for their return, did you? That's damning enough, I say!" The Sylph declared, again he turned to the audience and addressed them directly. "Mortimer stands before you and claims to uphold the best traditions of our homeland's neutrality. But he and the other Lords did not waste a single moment meditating on whether conflict was truly necessary. They do this only to serve themselves!"

This was getting out of hand, Sakuya realized, moving to intervene. "You've had your time now, Rio. You asked your question and you received your answer. Now if that is all . . ."

Rio turned to her, and Sakuya's heart sank. There was nothing insincere about that smile. "No."

"No?"

Rio elaborated by fishing in his pocket and presenting a second silver token, this one bearing the crest of the Salamanders.

Sakuya grimaced and quietly gestured to Noel. "Noel-san?"

"Sakuya-sama." The Puca eyes had grown big as saucers, she tugged at her collar anxiously.

"There isn't any rule against having multiple question tokens either, is there?"

"N-No, Sakuya-sama." Noel admitted. "

It was too late to change that now, the Sylph Lord thought bitterly. Instead, she gave Rio a poisonous little smile. "Another token from your guild?"

"The ABC have many friends willing to trade favors, Sakuya-sama." Rio answered. "Many of them forgotten by the Court. I speak on their behalf."

"You mean the Renegades."

"Former renegades, Sakuya-sama." Rio corrected her sternly. "Players who were banished from their home territory."

"Of course, all banishments were rescinded as soon as we realized the situation we were in." Sakuya said. "It would be inhumane to judge former players for how they behaved when ALfheim was a game."

"And you think simple repatriation was enough?"


"And you think simple repatriation was enough?" The Sylph on the far side of the mirror asked.

"First he speaks treason, and now he slanders his Lord's judgment?!"

From his seat, Prince Wales had a good view of the two dramas playing out. Both the one in the mirror and one on the floor of the Rose Room. Regretfully, for the friend beside him, as Asuna watched helplessly, it seemed his own wager was proving the right one.

"Karin, would you please sit down?" Queen Marianne murmured patiently as the Duchess Valliere glowered through the looking glass. Her shoulders were hunched, and her right hand twitched, groping for something at her side that was not there.

"The Duchess is not wrong, your highness." Lord Richmond murmured by her side. "He suggested nothing less than disloyalty against the Crown. And Lady Sakuya allows him to speak of this vile treachery!"

"But it is not treacherous!"

Wales was startled as Henrietta stood.

"Highness!" The Lord Justice snapped.

"What that man said was not treachery." Henrietta pronounced firmly.

"Henrietta." Wales murmured, wondering not for the first time what sort of strange ideas Lady Sakuya had been putting in her head.

"I would not expect you to understand the fineries of the law, highness, however I would expect you to . . ." Richmond's reply was interrupted.

"In accordance with the principle of ex post factum law, a noble cannot be bound by a contract or oath of fealty retroactively. Furthermore, as the Fae were created nobles ex nihilo, there was no presumption of Loyalty to the Crown of Tristain at the time the treaty of ALfheim was being negotiated. Therefore, you must agree, Lord justice, that his words regarding the past cannot be Treasonous."

"Mazarin has taught you well, my daughter." Marianne complimented.

"Well . . . that is . . ." It was quite the sight seeing Richmond stumble over his own tongue. "It still speaks to a failing of his character. And the character of the Fae as a whole, your Majesty." Richmond recovered. "This 'Rio' is confident that he has friends, supporters. Lady Sakuya does not deny it." Wales watched as his Aunt's features grew contemplative.

"Thank you for that." Asuna whispered as Henrietta seated herself. "Rio-san doesn't know what he's talking about, what we went through, but the Lord Justice . . ."

"Hmm?" The Princess shook her head, smiling kindly. "Please don't misunderstand. I find that man very distasteful, and I'd prefer to see him dragged out."

Asuna blinked rapidly. "But you . . ."

"I found what the Lord Justice said to be very distasteful also," Henrietta cast her voice as a low whisper, "and wish he'd be dragged out as well . . ."

"Still, it seems all of this has caught Sakuya in a snare." Wales observed as the verbal duel played out on the far side of the mirror.

"Those former 'renegades' as you called them lost everything when the borders of ALfheim were established." Rio proclaimed. "While the capitals and their surroundings became the counties of ALfheim, thousands of players outside the borders were forced to give up their homes and businesses."

"Hrrm?!" On the stage, Lord Rute rumbled, his mustache twitching. "They were provided with ample assistance to migrate their lives to the Counties."

"Unless they wanted to stay where they were, in the places they were familiar, and with the people they knew." Rio reasoned.

"Impossible! Tristain would never have allowed it." Rute countered. "The emergence of ALfheim caused millions of crown in damage and ripped feudal holdings to shreds. Something had to be given in return for what we gained under the law."

"And it just so happens that what was gained belongs to the Lords, and what was given belongs to everyone else!"

There was a noise building beneath the speech, Wales realized, a sort of low buzz as the greater audience, out of sight from the mirror's vantage, began to whisper among itself. How many thousands of voices were pondering what this man was saying?

"The counties are governed under the auspices of the Lords." Sakuya corrected. "But they do not belong to us . . ."

"Yes yes, you are our 'humble servants' you say." Rio spread his arms. "Self appointed, of course."

"What's this now?!" Rute harrumphed. "The Lords were duly elected when . . . when . . ." The Leprechaun paused, mustache twitching furiously as he bit down on his lip.

"When the last elections were held." The Sylph Rio finished for him. "When every last one of us was still a player of ALfheim Online electing leaders to complete the Grand Quest. Not to make life and death decisions on our behalf." Rio smiled, chuckling genially as he turned once more to the crowd and spread his arms wide. "Like many of you, I was a hardcore player of ALO. I dreamed of completing the grand quest and devoted my spare time to mastering the game mechanics and meta. I even ran for office in hopes of leading the Sylphs to victory. But even I would not compare that experience to where we are now."

"I dunno, I think we've done pretty well so far." Lady Alicia supplied non-chalantly."

"Does one of your subordinates not lay dead at the hands of RipJack? Have you not failed to apprehend him?"

"Well . . ." The Cait Lord began to speak.

"The eve of a war is no time to be holding elections." Lord Mortimer pronounced. Wales nodded at the sensibility of it, and was surprised to see Asuna frown.

"Sakuya and the others have more than proven themselves." Wales whispered to her. "What does this upstart know?"

Asuna tried to smile and gave a nod. "But I think he's right too." She was quick to add, "In a way." Wordlessly, Wales asked her to explain. "I was only thinking, the Lords are our elected leaders, but how true is that if we never get around to electing them? If it went on long enough, maybe we'd even forget?"

Would that truly be so bad? Wales wondered.

The Faeries seemed to think so. The roar of the crowd had grown perceptibly louder, and Rios voice had risen to keep pace. "Then when is a good time, Mortimer-sama? It could not be right after the Transition. We were all confused, lost, getting our bearings, we needed leadership, any leadership. And it could not be as you negotiated with Tristain, someone needed to take the lead there too. And it most certainly cannot be in the middle of a war. How very convenient! And then when Tristain wins, if Tristain wins, there will be the rebuilding, and the negotiating, and the politicking, always another excuse, always another reason until . . . "

The audience sounded like a wasp nest now, bickering among themselves, although, Wales thought, it was hard to say who was arguing for what. It seemed to be just on the verge of boiling over, the Prince resigning himself to observing what his older brother Lionel would call a 'laconic exchange of opinions' but which most Albion men would call a 'flaming bloody row' when there suddenly came a -boom- and flash like lightning that sent the gathered nobles jumping in their chairs, the mirror rattling visible as it transmitted the noise.

"That is enough!"

In the ensuing silence, Lady Sakuya slowly lowered her hand, gathering her sleeves before her. An expression of deep thought troubled her countenance, furrowing her pale brow, and pursing her lips. The moment stretched on, far longer in feeling than in fact, Wales realized that the Sylph Lord must have had a talent for crowds, she knew the exact moment the tension would break, she stretched it there, an no further, before she finally deigned to speak.

Standing beneath her, Rio's expression changed, souring as it shifted from confident, to confused, to finally disbelief.

"What did you say, Sakuya?"

"I said that you're right, Rio-san."


"What did you say, Sakuya?"

"I said, Rio-san, that you are right . . ."

It was strange the way she heard herself speak, Sakura thought. Detached, as if she were an outside observer. But it was only through that detachment that she was allowed to move within herself, to see what Rio was doing.

The audience was buzzing amongst themselves. Agitators, no, angry people, who looked to Rio as their champion, were demanding to be heard. How many? Though their numbers were few, their voices burned with conviction while those around them were filled with doubt.

This was a trap.

Stupid.

Stupid!

How had she not realized it before? She'd thought to placate Rio, stall for time and run out the clock. But the only way out was through.

The Concussion Blast she'd fired into the air, and the boom of her voice, carried by Noel's magic, had bought her a precious moment. And her words had bought her another, enough time to gather her thoughts, to steady her nerves, and to step back into the persona, the role, of Lady Sakuya.

"Everyone, when I opened this address, I told you all that we Lords are your humble servants. I believe in the intention of those words, but Rio speaks the truth when he argues that they have not been in fact."

"It was necessary, at first, for someone to take charge. But if we are to continue to make decisions of the greatest magnitude on your behalf, then it must be by your consent. Which is why I hereby decree that in three . . . no . . . In two weeks time, an election will be called to decide the Lord of Sylvain." Her eyes met with Rio's, her fellow Sylph was no longer smiling so confidently. "I invite anyone who wishes to announce their candidacy."

The audience was speaking among itself again, but the general mood was again uncertain, not knowing what to make of it.

"Furthermore," Sakuya continued with gathering confidence, "I urge my fellow Lords, those who have not already received the consent of their people since the Transition," she nodded to Thinker, "To follow suit as soon as they can arrange. And to agree upon terms under which the next elections will be called."

She should have expected it, but still it came as a surprise when Alicia was the first to speak up. "Elections huh?"

The Cait Lord's girlish features screwed up thoughtfully and then snapped back as she gave a nonchalant shrug. "Well, I don't see why not. It shouldn't take more than a couple of weeks for everyone to speak their piece."

"We did have a few hiccups with our own elections." Thinker admitted. "Nothing significant. But the Undines will be happy to share our experience if it will help."

"Hrmph? Elections again already?" Rute grumbled, but with a sharp eye from Sakuya surrendered without a fight. "Well I suppose it can't be helped under the circumstances. I will agree that we will need to decide on new terms of office. Hrrm, yes, something more reasonable for our situation."

Ever so slowly, with each Lord, the rumblings tilted in their favor. Sakuya felt them leaning back from the precipice and allowed herself to breathe a sigh . . . It caught in her throat. Along with betrayal.

"I . . . Find the prospect of elections unwise at this time . . ."

With one sentence, the tide shifted. Even Sylphic ears couldn't distinguish the legions of voices, but she could imagine what was being said. And she knew what would happen . . .

"Mortimer-san, what are you saying?" Thinker spoke first, looking as surprised as Sakuya ought to have been.

"I stand by my statement that the eve of a war is not the time to risk changing leadership. It will only cause confusion and discord in our defense policy."

"So you admit that you embrace war to stay in office!" Rio saw and seized his opportunity.

"That is not . . ."

"The architect of Tristain's attacks on Albion." Rio went on. "Or perhaps just the architect of securing your own power!"

"Preposterous." The Salamander regarded Rio like something he would scrape off his boot. "My actions have been guided by a single principle, upholding the interests of the Salamanders, and by extension, all of ALfheim."

"Interests that, by your judgment, clearly align with you remaining Lord!"

"Fascinating how you speculate on my motives, without the slightest evidence." A flash of heat entered Mortimer's voice. Somewhere, a fuze had just been lit. "While diverting attention from your own." Then turning gaze to the audience, "This man speaks of guarding liberty and correcting injustice, but he nurses a bitter grudge for having lost the last quarterly election."

"I hold no such grudge!" Rio's voice betrayed an edge before he seized control of it again. "I mean to say . . . Sakuya won fairly. At a different time, in a different place. I demand elections, not to win office for myself, but to preserve the best traditions of our homeland."

"But also because you believe Sakuya stole the elections from you." Mortimer spoke and Rio winced, then the Salamander went in for the kill. "Well let me assure you, Rio-san, you failed to defeat Sakuya and came in third behind Sigurd. As much as things have changed, I've doubt they've changed that much. Now if we are done . . ."

"We are not done!" Rio exploded. "You wish me to prove your motives and then slander my name? Fine!"

An unease stirred in Sakuya's breast as she saw the smile twisting on Rio's face. Vicious, and ugly, and utterly sincere as he turned to address the crow one final time. "Friends, I beseech you for one final moment of your time. There is information, recently delivered into my hands, that I must make known here, lest I be silenced!"

Sakuya's stomach twisted as premonition transformed into insight. If it was possible, Mortimer grew paler.

"In regards to the murderer RipJack. It has been brought to my attention that, as a renegade, he was a close associate of Lord Mortimer, who used his services . . ."

"Rio!" Mortimer shouted.

" . . . As an assassin! And though that is not damning in itself. What is damning is that Mortimer kept this information from his fellow lords. From the investigation. And assigned his own loyal dog to divert suspicion!"

"Where is your proof?!" Mortimer roared. The amphitheater echoes with the boom of the Salamander's voice and then fell into silence once more.

Rio didn't reply. He didn't need to.

Sakuya heard the whispers carried on the wind. "One of the investigators was dismissed recently." Someone nearby told their seat mate.

"It must be a coincidence!"

"I'm not so sure . . ."

"You don't know what you're talking about!"

"Mortimer-sama wouldn't do that?"

"Wouldn't he?"
"He's a good commander . . . maybe he'd prefer if everyone followed his orders . . ."

Rio was listening too, and when he was satisfied with the results, only then did he deign to speak. "All we need do, is ask why a member of the investigation was dismissed. And then seek witnesses who can confirm Mortimer's past association with RipJack. Of course, you are free to explain yourself, Mortimer-sama. Can you?" Rio grinned. "Can you explain yourself?"

Sakuya moved to speak, but bit her lip. That inner self was tugging back on her again, warning her to look carefully at the pieces on the table. At that moment, there was nothing she could say which would help.

And Mortimer . . . If there was anything to be said, they'd never know. The Salamander Lord closed his eyes, inhaled, and turned to walk from the stage as the tide of voices welled behind him.


Under the pale moons, beneath the branches of an ash tree, a constellation of rings twirled as they swayed, hung by threads invisible against the night. Swinging back and forth in their metronome peace until metal flashed as it caught the moonslight, the point of a foil licked through the center of a ring and retreated without touching the rim.

This happened once, twice, three times, until the forth, a slight misjudgment, but fatal, the tip of the foil sent the ring dancing and spinning on its thread. Asuna watched it die down in silence until the motion was placid and predictable again.

Not good enough. The Maeve thought. Not nearly good enough. She needed to match, and exceed, her performance in Aincrad. Wiping cold sweat from her brow, she resumed en garde and tried again.

'Faster.' Asuna thought. 'More precise.' Her eyes narrowed. 'Timing is off.'

She should have taken Suguha up on her offer of sparring practice, it hadn't taken long at all to start going soft. But really, she welcomed the distraction.

After the Moonlight Mirror had faded, without ceremony, the small audience had been left in silence. And then, as if by magic, they had started speaking as if nothing had happened. But something had happened. Asuna didn't need her sensitive ears to detect the strain of faux cordiality, the sheer banality. The wordless promises that this would all be spoken about behind closed doors.

She knew that cold geniality all too well. She'd thought she'd left it behind. Asuna had excused herself, disentangling from the throng of nobility.

"Asuna." Wales caught up to her in the hall. "Please, accept my heartfelt apology."

"What's there to apologize for?" She'd smiled kindly, it wasn't often that the Prince looked ashamed. His tutors probably hadn't taught him how.

Wales hesitated for a moment, raising a hand, and then letting it fall to his side. "I am not blind, Asuna. When you accepted my invitation, you were clearly already troubled. What happened just now, it could not have helped."

"Then . . . It's me who should be apologizing. I've been an ungracious guest."

"No. Never."The Prince shook his head. "After everything you have done for me, your burdens are my burdens. Asuna?"

"That is . . . very generous, Wales-san." The Faerie admitted, not daring to look him in the eyes. "But I think I'm just tired right now. Besides, you weren't responsible for what happened."

"Of course." He nodded. "I won't pry further."

"Un. Thank you."

It was hard to overstate the gratitude of Royalty. When she and Yui had arrived, a small suite of apartments had already been made ready for them, wood paneled and richly appointed, overlooking the eastern gardens. A half hour of examination one evening by mother and daughter had revealed the hidden doors and double locks in the walls, no doubt rooms could be opened or closed off at need to create arrangements suitable to each guests status.

Asuna had warranted a large bedroom, a sitting room, bath, and a smaller room set aside for Yui with a child's cot, desk, and chest of drawers. Although it had worked out that the two of them shared the large feather bed.

Yui sat dressed in a nightshirt, her legs dangling off the edge of the mattress as her mother combed her ink hair until it flowed like silk. Asuna lost herself in the repetition of motion and almost, but not quite, forgot her troubles.

"So beautiful." She murmured. "Same black as your father's . . . Yui-chan?"

"Huh?" Yui looked up from a book spread in her lap."

"I hope it isn't insensitive, but I've been meaning to ask about your appearance . . ."

"You mean my physical similarity to you and Papa." The little girl cut to the point like a well honed knife.

Asuna nodded, there was no point dancing around it with her. "You know it would never change how we feel about you, I'm just curious if it was . . ."

"A coincidence?"

"U-Un."

Yui silently closed her book, curling her fingers around the spine as it sat in her lap. Her eyes set about blinking as she seemed to think carefully on the question.

"Within the intentions of the SAO design document, the MHC-AI was to assume whatever form was deemed most suitable to provide care for each patient."

"So when you approached Kirito-kun and I . . ."

"I combined your appearance data, adjusted for age." Yui admitted, adding quickly. "But I didn't do it to deceive either of you. It was something I did . . . by instinct . . . uh?"

Asuna put her arms around her adoptive daughter and squeezed her gently. "I know, Yui-chan . . . So . . . Does that mean that you're related to us? Like by blood?"

Another long silence, another blinking fit, Yui's features screwed up thoughtfully. "Papa is a Spriggan, and Mama is a Maeve, but I'm still a nav pixie. Since these bodies are physical existences, they must function according to natural laws of biology. So I don't . . . Think so . . ." There was the faintest hint of disappointment.

"Hmm." Asuna closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of Yui's hair. "Well, that doesn't really matter, Yui-chan. Like I said, it doesn't change that we are family."

"Promise?"

"Mm promise."

"Mama?"

"Hmm?"

"When are you going to stop being mad at Papa?"

Asuna sighed, her embrace loosening as she leaned back to look into Yui's dark thoughtful eyes. She might not have shared their blood, but the little girl in her arms was like them in more than appearance. She'd probably been holding in that question since the day they'd left Arrun.

"Would it make you sad if I didn't?"

Yui's eyes widened and she nodded gravely.

"Even though, no matter what, neither of us would stop loving you?"

Nod again.

The Maeve smiled and shook her head. "I'm not mad at K-azuto . . . exactly. I'm just . . . angry."

How could she explain this to Yui? No matter how clever or insightful she was, her daughter didn't know what it was like to grow up in a cold home. To have so little faith in herself, that she was resigned to living whatever life others decided for her.

Her education.

Her profession.

Her husband . . .

All of it neatly arranged. She'd been in a cage long before Sugou had put her there, or before she'd been caught up as collateral in the fixations of Kayaba Akihiko. But in Aincrad, for a while at least, she'd thought to walk a path that was different, that she had decided upon. And to walk it with someone else, someone she had chosen, who had chosen to walk it with her. She'd thought Kazuto felt the same way.

That maybe he could even teach her how to live.

'Did I make a mistake?'

She'd known he was lying, but she'd wanted to believe him so badly. She'd gone along with it until the truth was staring her in the face. She hadn't thought the betrayal would feel so bad, when she was part of it. And then when she'd confronted him . . . Trying to tell her what it meant, trying to tell her what to do and how to feel, trying to . . .

"Mama? Mama, your vitals are elevating. Mama, are you thinking about . . ."

"What did you say, Yui?" Asuna whispered.

Yui hesitated, "I-I said . . ."

Asuna's lips trembled until she bit them still. She took Yui firmly by the shoulders and looked her squarely in the eyes. "Kirito is nothing like Noboyuki Sugou!" Her grip tightened. "They are nothing alike!"

Then, realizing what she had done, the Maeve's grip on her daughter loosened and Yui curled up, hugging her legs to her chest. "Yui . . . Yui-chan I'm sorry, please don't be scared. I . . . I don't know what I was thinking . . ."

"Thinking something you've tried really hard not to think." The little girl answered quietly. "I'm sorry . . . I thought you were . . ."

"No." Asuna shook her head. "You don't need to be sorry, Yui-chan. Maybe I haven't faced it. Maybe that's why I'm still angry."

"Do you think you'll talk to Papa about it."

"I might." Asuna said.

"Soon?"

The Maeve reached around and gently plucked the book from her daughter's lap. Reading the title she said, "Is this one of the books you packed? Hasn't Emily been teaching you Tristin?"

"Un." Yui nodded. "But Klein-san said I should definitely read this one to 'understand what it's about'. I'm not sure I understand what 'it' is though."

"Can I try reading it to you?"

A nod, and then the two of the climbed up onto the bed and made themselves comfortable, Yui nestling in the crook of her mother's arm as Asuna thumbed the book open to the first page.

"Now I've never read this before." She warned. "So you might have to explain some things to me."

"Mm!"

Then . . .

"In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit." Asuna commenced. Didn't dwarves live underground? Dwarves, and and she supposed Gnomes too. And Imps, though Domeeska was built into a natural cavern. Oh well . . . "Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort . . . "

She read on, on and on, falling into a rhythm the same as with the combing of hair until, after a particular tricky part where she had to guess at the tune being sung by the troop of dwarves. The theme of the lyrics was melancholy though, so she tried to think back to something she'd heard in her grandparent's home, on the radio, while her grandmother cooked, the steam rising off the stock pot thickening the air until . . .

"Yui-chan?" Asuna whispered. The dark haired little girl didn't stir, even when Asuna untangled herself and carefully tucked her in.

The clock on the wall was still a half hour to midnight when the Maeve quickly shirked off her night gown and pulled on a loose blouse and slacks. She'd worn them every morning when she met Caramella for yoga, but tonight they were put to a different purpose. There was a pair of sentries standing at the end of the hall, women, musketeers of the Princess' personal guard, Asuna told them to watch the door and that she would be in the garden.

And that was how she had gotten here . . . Progressively running away until the only thing that gave her any sense of control was the hilt of the foil in her hand.

Hit.

Hit.

Hit.

'Off balance.' A foot slipped.

Hit.

Hit.

'Too slow.' A ring missed.

Hit.

'Hesitated.'

'Don't doubt!'

"My, I thought my daughter's musketeers were the only ones so diligent."

Asuna lowered her rapier, and wiped the sweat off her brow with her blouse sleeve. Lowering the foil she turned and quickly bowed as she confirmed the identity of the speaker. "Majesty-sama."

"Please, just Marianne." Queen Marianne smiled. "You are my subject, but you are also the dearest of friends to my nephew, Lady Asuna."

"Please, just Asuna." The Maeve shook her head. "Lady . . . doesn't mean anything to me really." Wales had started it, addressing her like so, and she'd never quite been able to stamp it out. "And Sir Hammond." She nodded to the knight shadowing the monarch.

"I do insist on the Sir," Hammond growled softly, "I had to work very hard to earn it."

Asuna truly felt the smile she gave. She'd always thought Knights were supposed to be dour and dutiful soldiers. It was good to see they could have a sense of humor too.

"Un, Sir Hammond. But I don't think you're here to see me, are you?"

"This is but a happy accident." Marianne answered. "I like to walk the grounds when my mind is restless."

"That must happen a lot recently." Asuna lamented. "It's because of us, isn't it?"

"You Faeries?" Marianne asked thoughtfully. "Well, yes. Though not as much as you might think. The truth is that Tristain was headed for troubled times before we ever met you. If anything, it is our troubles that have fallen in to your laps."

"It didn't feel that way tonight." The late night air, and the drying sweat elicited a shiver in the Maeve. Without prompting, Sir Hammond offered his cloak.

"That is the nobility." Marianne dismissed. "Never letting an opportunity go to waste. Though it was certainly worse than it needed to be. King James may have ruled with a heavy hand, but I . . . have been lax in my duties as monarch. Lord Richmond is straining to be given oversight of the Counties of ALfheim. He claims this business with Lord Mortimer as grounds."

"Is it?" Asuna asked.

"Mazarin doesn't think so." Marianne answered. "He may conduct his own investigation, independently, but for now it remains an internal affair."

"I see." Was all the Maeve could think to say. "I've heard the regent is a very capable man. If he thinks so, it must be true."

"Very capable, and far better suited to strife. That man, sleeps like only the truly just or the unrepentantly damned can manage. But I think you and I are of a more similar temperament." The Queen's eyes traced a line to the foil, forgotten in Asuna's hand.

"Ah." The Maeve had to stop herself from trying to dismiss it to inventory and settled for hiding it behind her back. "I suppose, by Tristain's standards, it's not appropriate for a girl."

"For my daughter's guards we made an exception. In fact, if you are looking for a challenge, hunt down their lieutenant." The Queen's smile turned blunt. "I hear she fights dirty."

"I taught her well." Sir Hammond grunted.

The Queen surveyed their surroundings. "I have always liked this garden. Rupert and I used to walk it together. I find myself thinking about him more recently, first Henrietta growing into a young woman, and then losing James and his sons."

"Maje . . . Marriane?"

"Yes?"

"If it's alright to ask, what was your husband like? He was Wales' uncle wasn't he? Were they similar?"

"Hmm . . . Wales and Rupert? My husband was more like his brother, who I believe you sat in council with, so you must know his temperament. Wales takes much more after his mother."

Asuna smiled sheepishly, she didn't think there was a reply that wouldn't get her in trouble.

"When we were to be married, and he learned he would be Prince Consort and not King in his own right, oh how he raged at that. You'd have thought he was a child denied a second helping of dessert. What is it?"

"I'm surprised you'd tell me all of this." Asuna shook her head. "I'm only Wales' friend."

"Perhaps it's because I've so few to tell it to." Marianne replied.

"Henrietta really seems to love her father, the way she describes him . . ."

"Little girls always see their father as their hero. But it's also true that Rupert didn't stay that angry young man. I think being away from Londinium Court was good for him. Or maybe he simply grew up. Or it might be that a friend of mine broke his nose."

Then a question occurred, asked obliquely. "Marianne, your marriage was arranged, right?"

The Queen nodded, it probably didn't even occur to her to think it strange.

"Did you . . . love your husband?"

The Queen closed her eyes, breathing in the night air, she looked up at the moons that now hung high in the sky, the blue maiden and her red lover, like the mural in the playroom.

"I did, not at first, but very much by the end."

Anxiously licking her lips, her mouth was dry. "What . . . did that feel like?"

"To be in love?"

Asuna nodded.

"At first, like a mountain river running swift and turbulent." Marianne answered. "Frantic and full of energy. But then, as it went on and widened, though it seemed placid on the surface, the currents ran powerful and deep. Deep enough to endure the good and the bad." The Queen tilted her head. "Is this what has been bothering you, young troubles?"

"How did you know, that I was bothered I mean?"

"Because Wales frets over you like family. And Henrietta frets over him. And I fret over her."

"It's just . . . We've been through bad times before." Asuna shivered, not from the cold. "Battles and nearly losing each other, but this is different . . ."

Marianne stepped close and took her hands, smiling kindly. "Oh child . . . Those were good times."

"What?"

"Those were the good times, because you were strong for each other. The bad times will be when you, both of you, are at your worst. All the small, petty, ugly little things that will make you wonder if anything you felt before was real." Marianne smiled as she swept back a loose strand of Asuna's hair. "Did you really think it would alway be a fairytale?"

"I think . . . I'm scared that it was." That what she'd felt could only exist within that fantastical castle, and that all the little pieces of living would slowly chip away at it. "How do I know?"

"I don't think I know either. I'm not sure it's knowable until it's over, one way or another." The Queen answered. "I'm sorry."

"Your highness." Sir Hammond murmured.

She nodded. "I'm sorry, the rest of my guards will be getting anxious soon. The price of privacy I'm afraid." She turned, and then paused. "You know, I haven't believed in one true loves in a very long time. But I do still believe in true love. Good night, Asuna."

"Good night." The Faerie watched as the monarch vanished among the hedges, her shadow following closed behind.

The rings that had witnessed it all, continued to spin silently.


"Here you go, Sakuya-sama." A delicate plate and teacup were set down on the edge of a table beside a well stuffed chair.

"Thank you, Recon." The Sylph Lord closed the book in her lap and carefully raised the cup to her nostrils, breathing in the aroma. "Calm Camomile?" She asked aloud.

The lime haired boy who had become one of her youngest aids nodded nervously. "I . . . Thought you'd want something to settle your nerves tonight, My Lady."

"Hmm." The Sylph Lord closed her eyes. "I thought Saito-sensei said that this has sedative properties." Something to consider, a controlled substance list.

"Only if you distill it into a sleeping drot." Recon answered quickly. "Just steeping it, the effect is much less."

"I see." Sakuya declined to ask how a nice boy like Recon had learned something like that. "Is there anything else?"

"Not really." Recon waved dismissively, "I was just wondering what you were reading tonight."

"Oh this?" She petted the book's cover, beautiful red leather lettering leafed in gold, she hadn't owned anything so fine on Earth. "European history. Part of my thesis actually." Not that it meant anything anymore. "I had the ebook loaded on the shelf in my player home, so it made the trip with us." And then Novair had arranged to have her library shipped to Arrun and organized in the governor's study.

She missed the convenience of her tablet, but no eye strain was nice. She could have curled up in this room and lost herself in a book if only the world would let her.

"Uhm, sorry for asking, but is that really useful here?" Recon averted his eyes shyly.

Sakuya smiled, "Perhaps not. But even if the details are different, I think the lessons are the same. Now, it's late, and you look tired, you should go get some rest."

"Not as tired as you, Sakuya-sama . . . uhm . . ."

"Bed." Sakuya rose and gently guided Recon to the door. "I can stay up late because I have all of you to help me."

Recon hesitated, then nodded, smiling. "G-Goodnight, Sakuya-sama." He bowed before departing. Such an earnest young man, the Sylph Lord thought as she shut the door and stepped over to the window. Her smile slowly faded.

The Governor's mansion had remained lit well into the night, its Sylph guards alert but keeping a low profile. A tension had settled over Arrun as the Faeries who had witnessed the Lords' interview relayed what they had heard to those who had not.

The worst thing that could happen had already happened. By morning, who knew what people would think of the Lords. Not for the first time she wondered, there had to be someone, anyone, more suited and qualified to lead than them.

She and Alicia were grad students, Thinker was a journalist, and who even knew what Mortimer really was. Sakuya rubbed at the bridge of her nose until a knock sounded at the door.

Recon again?

"Come in."

"Milady, I hope I'm not intruding I . . ." Ephi stopped as he stepped through the door."

"Is something wrong?"

"I . . . came to apologize, Milady." Ephi shut the door quietly. "You look . . . very lovely tonight."

'Very Lovely Tonight?' Sakuya mouthed the words silently. She caught her reflection in the darkest part of the window glass. 'Oh right . . .' A beautiful shape draped in silk.

It wasn't that the negligee was particularly risque, or else Recon would have been a blubbering mess, but Ephi certainly wasn't used to it.

"You . . . wear it well." He offered, standing at attention, eyes fixed on a point above her head.

Sakuya shook her head and smiled. "You're sorry that I look lovely?" She teased gently. Not very Lordly, but after everything, it felt good to be a little playful, a little flirtatious. When was the last time she'd been able to do that? Rainbow Valley?

"About the advice I gave you." Ephi corrected. "If you had not listened to me about Mortimer, then what happened on stage might have been averted."

"I appreciate the humility. But that was not your fault." Sakuya shook her head. "I mused about forcing his hand, but you were right, it had to come from Mortimer. All you did was convince me to do what I already thought right."

"And what happened after . . ."

Sakuya nodded as it replayed in her mind's eye. Mortimer leaving the stage, the cries of the audience chasing him. It had been everything she and Thinker could do to settle them all down. But the night had been over after that, the best they could manage was to get people to disperse, mostly, peacefully.

As she'd departed, her retinue in tow, the Sylph Lord hadn't known whose neck she wanted to wring more. Mortimer's or Rio's.

"Sakuya!"

That would do, she thought as she rounded to find Mortimer and his attending guards approaching across the tower atrium. A half dozen armored soldiers flanking on all side, as if even on the move, the Salamander carried fortifications with him.

"I need to speak with you . . ." Mortimer began.

"No!" She spat. "You had a chance to come to me. Now you need to listen!"

"I made a mistake." Mortimer hissed under his breath. "I admit that now, Sakuya, but we need to find out how Rio knew my association with Rip Jack."

The Sylph Lord shook her head. "There's a thousand ways he could know that. Morgiana knew that."

"Morgiana is the reigning Spriggan Lord. And the one who banished him."

"He has lots of friends, Mortimer, if you haven't noticed." Of every Faerie race. Every faction had its renegades. Most of them had been repatriated after the Transition, but the unhappy had found the Sylph to be their champion. "One of them must have known." It was probably how he'd found out about the investigation as well. The Watch wasn't an intelligence service, it was barely a police force. They were lucky it didn't leak like a sieve.

"But are we sure?"

Sakuya rubbed the bridge of her nose. "What are you saying?"

"Rio staged this."

"Obviously."

"But wasn't it all still too convenient?"

Sakuya paused as she followed Mortimer's likely train of thought. "You think he knows more than just your association with Rip Jack."

"Tonight worked out in his favor, not ours." The Salamander murmured.

"That's insane, Mortimer. Besides, what would you do, detain him until he talks?" Sakuya had paled as she saw the hard look in his eyes. "Do you know what you're saying?!"

"I am looking out for . . ."

"You're looking out for yourself!" Rio was right about that much. "We will talk about this tomorrow, in council with the other Lords. Don't you even think about making things worse until then . . ."

"Aaah, Sakuya and Mortimer-sama, my favorite Lords!" Sakuya's skin crawled as her second wish was granted. Rio strode at the lead of a procession, the expression of triumph on his face almost blinding."Do tell, are you conspiring against me?"

"Do not give yourself too much credit, Rio-san." Sakuya smiled venomously. "I don't need to conspire to handle you."

"Bold words, Sakuya." Rio tossed his head back and laughed. "But you are right, the credit of course belongs to all the ABC, not just myself." The cheers of Faeries behind him, all different race, Sylph and Salamander, Spriggan and Gnome, filled the air. "You see, we support each other, Sakuya. Unlike Lords such as you and Mortimer."

"My Lord has always looked out for the Salamanders!" A short, silver haired woman adorned in light plate stepped out from beside Mortimer. Her eyes were focused on Rio as her hand touched the hilt of her short sword. A pair of gnomes flanking Rio, unarmed, but big, cracked fists like shovels.

"Oh screw Mortimer!" Someone behind Rio shouted.

"Yeah! What did he ever do for us? Brand us outcasts that's what!"

"But you were all granted the opportunity to return." Sakuya reasoned. "It was never our intention to wrong you."

"We know that, Sakuya-sama!" A slip of a Sylph girl peered over Rio's shoulder. "We know that you've tried to make it right. But that doesn't mean it's been good enough."

"I . . ." Sakuya began.

"My guild was trapped for a week underground, surrounded by monsters outside the town gaits. You say you're our Lord, but you didn't come for us!"

"The negotiations weren't completed." Sakuya defended. "We didn't have the manpower, we had to prioritize . . ."

"Prioritize yourselves." Rio finished. "Meanwhile, these people had to save themselves. And they didn't always save everyone."

"I lost a friend because of you bastards playing Lords!" One voice called out.

"I have to work in someone else's shop because you gave mine to some asshole Count!"

More angry shouts, more resentment, Sakuya fell silent. Better to say nothing than to sound weak.

Rio raised a hand, silencing his followers. "Well, we'll see how you do in the elections."

Mortimer snorted, "I doubt Sakuya has anything to worry about from you, Rio-san. You may have many followers, but how many of them are eligible to vote in Sylvain?"

"You . . ." Rio began.

"Enough, both of you!" Sakuya snapped. "There's been enough bad blood tonight. Mortimer, I will see you tomorrow."

"Sakuya!" Mortimer strode after her, trying to reach past Ephi as the guard intervened. "Gyaah!"

"Mortimer-sama!" Mortimer's own guards rushed to defend their Lord as he staggered back, hissing and clutching his hand. A thin line of crimson ran like water and dripped to the floor.

"Forgive me, Mortimer-sama" Ephi bowed. "It was this ring." He pointed to an insectile ornament on his index finger, glittering with fresh blood. "It has a perception charm, but I'm afraid it's quite sharp as well. Please, accept my apologies, but I'm afraid Milady will still not speak to you further tonight."

Mortimer waved him off angrily as he was helped by his guards. Sakuya turned again to leave . . .

"Walking away from your fellow Lord, huh?" Rio called after her. "What's the matter, he can't scratch your itch?"

Sakuya spun on her heel, putting all of her momentum through her shoulder as her hand curled into a fist. As punches went, it wasn't a bad one, though she was better by far with a weapon. It did the job well enough, sending Rio stumbling back into his entourage while spitting blood from a split lip. The Sylph Lord bit off a curse as she felt her knuckles nick against his teeth.

The Watch had intervened then, breaking things up before they became any worse. Sakuya had cursed herself the rest of the night.

"I'm sure plenty of Sylphs will love that you punched him." Ephi observed.

"And plenty will hate that I punched him." Sakuya replied, looking out again over the city. "And plenty more will hear that I punched him, but not hear why . . . He's not wrong, you know."

"Rio is a jealous little man, Milady." Ephi said solemnly. "He is unworthy to be compared to a true Sylph such as yourself."

"Oh he's an asshole." The Sylph Lord agreed. "But he's tapped into something real, Ephi-san. Those people have grievances . . . " And while the Lords ensured that every Faerie was provided with food and shelter, it wasn't enough for some to thrive while others merely survived.

They were all in mortal peril . . . But while Sakuya met in council with monarchs and generals, attended by her own staff, and cradled in the fineries of high nobility, they were left alone, anonymous, to wonder and to fear.

"All because I won a popularity contest."

"Do not say such things, Sakuya-sama." Ephi growled. "What matters is not how you came to be our Lord, but that you are worhty of it now. Do not allow yourself to be contaminated by these small minds who cannot evolve . . ."

"Not everyone adapts so easily, Ephi-san." Sakuya replied, and then sighing, "I don't know, I'd put everyone back where they belong if only I could. You must miss it."

"Milady?"

"Your old life." Where they could be safe and put these problems aside. None of them had asked for this.

"There is something else, Sakuya-sama."

"Oh?" She turned away from the window and bid him continue.

"Mortimer-sama may not have been wrong about Rio . . ."

Sakuya paused, her features set in contemplation. "No, he may not have been wrong at all. But I will not move against one of our own without proof. Rio is an asshole, but he's our asshole, and well within his rights"

"Even so, I would like your permission to keep track of his whereabouts." The Guard said. "Nothing that would draw suspicion, and nothing that is not already public knowledge. In fact, I'm sure Rio already suspects it of us.."

"Hmm." Sakuya thought on it. "Only his whereabouts?"

Ephi nodded, then added, "It may be prudent, Sakuya-sama, in case Mortimer-sama has the idea to do more than just observe."

"Agreed . . . If the rest of the Lords consent. If that's all then, Ephi-san, it's getting late for me." And it would be another long day tomorrow.

"Of course, Milady."

Then as he stepped out the door. "By the way . . ."

"Sakuya-sama?"

Green eyes darted up and down his trim physique. She didn't know quite why, but the slight imperfection of his nose was really quite charming. "You wear it well yourself." She added a little flourish, a pop of her shoulders that caused her bossom to move, as she closed the door with a smile.

Only then did she savor the last look on his face, pumping her fist.

'Still got it!'