Disclaimer: FoZ/ZnT belong to the departed Noboru Yamaguchi and whoever inherited the I.P.. Any real life organisation/person is merely being used in a fictional non-profit way.

Author's note: Well shit's getting real eh? As always, thanks to Trainalf for co-authoring this fic.

I like to thank people who give suggestions in the reviews as well. Do remember that we don't use them all since they might not fit the plot/narrative though. Don't take offense though.

What a Mess!

"We're very eager to get some trade deals approved, your Highness, but it will require a high degree of cooperation." M. Fitzgerald explained from the other side of the parlor table. At the other end of the room behind him were two of his guards. Likewise, Agnes and another Musketeer were at the end of the room behind Henrietta.

"I understand." Princess Henrietta nodded. It was not the first time the American Ambassador had told her this. When it came to doing business with this other world, something that they called 'centralization and standards' was key, they told her. To summarize, many of the discussions of the past weeks had been them gently prodding the princess to exert some authority over the nobles of the land or her ability to do so, ensuring a deal of consistency across all of Tristain when it came to certain practices.

The concept fascinated her. It'd be extremely difficult, she knew, but she thought it was possible. Clearly, many nobles had put aside their grievances and wanted to work with these people. Maybe even enough to allow her more power. If Henrietta wound up as the person who held everything together, she felt her position of Tristain's ruler would no longer be in doubt. She might finally even get her coronation.

Near the door, the DSS agents got word of what had happened at the consulate through their earpieces. They quickly rushed towards the ambassador. Seeing this, Agnes and the other Musketeer also ran to the table. "Sir, there's been an incident at the consulate." One of them informed him, although the whole table heard it. Henrietta paled.

"What type of incident?" Fitzgerald stood up.

"A mage broke through the outer wall and into the building before being subdued."

"A mage?" Agnes gritted her teeth, thinking of her Musketeers she'd posted to the outside wall. They were brave, but she knew they couldn't take on a mage.

"A mage?" Henrietta whispered. It could only be a noble- one of hers or even a foreign. Neither was good news.

"Your Highness." Fitzgerald's voice was as curt as ever when he turned to speak to her. "I hope we'll have full support from Tristainian authorities in dealing with this matter?"

"Of course." The flustered princess stood up and turned to Agnes. "Gather as many troops as you can to that neighborhood. Get the Vallieres' if they are still here," She turned back to the ambassador, "M. Fitzgerald, you are all welcomed to stay here at the Palace if your quarters have been damaged."

"Thank you You Highness." Fitzgerald acknowledged diplomatically before he was swept away by his security team. The responses developed for this unusual new post stated that in the event of an attack, all personnel were to be secured in an Earth designed area. In this case, it meant the armored SUV he'd arrived in.

A large group of Musketeers arrived to escort Henrietta as she made her way through the castle, her mind racing. She'd already ordered Agnes to gather some troops and offered shelter to the dignitaries. What else? There had to be something else she could do to salvage this situation!

"Henrietta, what is happening?" It was her mother, accompanied by her ladies in waiting and handmaidens, looking alarmed at the bustle and at her daughter's unusually heavy guard.

"Gather the Regency Council, mother. There are important matters to discuss."

"What has happened?" the Archduchess asked as she ordered one of her servants to fetch the other members of the council.

"Someone has broken into the American-Canadian consulate," she reported, slightly frazzled, "We need to act immediately."

"By the Founder!"

"Please mother, we need to hurry to the council room. This is an urgent matter."

"Of course this whole business would bring trouble." Richemont rubbed a temple in frustration. A Musketeer burst into the room just then, almost stumbling on the doorstep and heaving, clearly out of breath. "Your Highness!" The woman panted, trying to catch her breath, "Urgent word from the consulate-"

"It's been attacked. The American ambassador already informed us." Henrietta told them. The woman bowed in humility.

"It was an inexcusable failure from us."

"How did they know so quickly?" Cardinal Mazarin asked. The man of the Church had not been as involved in greeting these newcomers.

"They are somehow capable of communicating across great distances instantly, without need for messengers. I've seen it myself." Delage informed.

"As have I." Richemont conceded with reluctance.

"So their leaders will soon know about this." The Archduchess understood. "Henrietta, how will they react?"

"They…" the princess hesitated, remembering what Canada and the US did to their enemies, "Will be angered."

"Not at us, I hope?" There was worry in her mother's tone.


A joint communications center had been set up not too far from the gate in Canada, so as soon as the news was replayed through the hardwire, it was being sent to each government. Trudeau was the first head of state to be informed. The timing was rather… inconvenient for the man, but he rushed to his post regardless.

The cabinet was already gathered in the Prime Minister's office. They initially seemed surprised at the his attire when they arrived.

"I take it that you weren't expecting our joint Consulate to be attacked," Minister Sajjan remarked, noting Trudeau's gym clothes and towel that hung from his shoulder.

"Yes, how did the situation evolve?"

"It's very hazy but a unidentified woman successfully breached the Consulate's walls 15 minutes ago," the foreign minister reported.

"Good grief! Is M. Ambroise ok?" Trudeau asked quickly, "Are any of our personnel injured?"

"Luckily," Sajjan answered, "Everyone has been secured and, except for one injured local, are fine. They've also captured the perpetrator."

"Has M. Trump reacted yet?" Minister Freeland asked, dreading what the short-tempered American president would do.


As always, the cameras were rolling as Marine One touched down on the South Lawn of the White House. It was a given a crowd was always there to watch the President's personal aircraft deliver him back home. Personable as always, Trump waved at the camera's as he crossed the South Lawn towards the White House. Many people, including news crews, got an unusual sight that day. An aide had run up to the American president and whispered something in his ear. The President began to shout and flailed his arms angrily… in full view of the cameras before stomping his way into the White House.

Needless to say, social media lit up at the event.

"And when did this happen?" Trump demanded as he angrily strode through the halls of the White House.

"The incident was reported fifteen minutes ago. Five minutes ago we got word it's been contained. No casualties, suspect in custody, unspecified damage to the building. They've prepared for an evacuation. We can have all our people and property back Earth-side by the end of the day if needed."

"We are not running away. Not in front of some backwards terrorists wannabees!" Trump said adamantly. "What is the Princess doing about this?!"

"We don't have any word about that yet."

"Of course not. They don't have good communications." The American President grunted impatiently. "We need to get a joint call going with Trudeau and the Canadians. Are our people on alert?"

"As much as they can be, but we just can't send them through. The portal is-"

"That's what the call is for."


An aide burst into the Prime Minister's office.

"M. Prime Minister! President Trump is calling us via video conference and he isn't too happy!"

"There he is." Trudeau sighed, knowing how the conversation would go. "Fine. Get the video feed and cameras on." The Prime Minister and his cabinet waited while it was done before the American President's angry face appeared on the big screen at the end of the table.

"You heard what happened to… why the hell are you in gym clothes M. Trudeau?!"

"I wasn't expecting an attack," the Canadian replied dryly, "It was more important to get here than change."

"Hmmph!"

The door suddenly opened, revealing the same out of breath aide with a small file.

"The daily update on Halkegenia, and some new information about the recent attack." He told the Prime Minister as he caught his breath and entered the room. He handed out copies of them to the gathered ministers.

"Let's hear it then!" Trump barked from the screen. Trudeau waved for the agitated Defense Minister to do so.

"The perpetrator has been identified as one…" Sajjin scrutinized the paper, "'Fouquet of the Crumbling Earth'. She used magic to turn both the stone wall surrounding the building and part of the building's wall itself to dust, allowing her to pass through."

A picture appeared on screen for both sides of a green haired woman with glasses wearing a hood and cloak.

"This was sent before the attack- a suspicious person who's been poking around the consulate the last few days. At least we have a name to show with it now." Minister Goodale explained. "This woman has been identified as a Reconquista agent. M. Hiraga and Lady Vallière have had run-ins with her twice. She infiltrated the Tristain Academy and tried to steal the M-72 LAW that fell into the headmaster's possession. She was also involved in a plot to kidnap Lady Vallière that was luckily foiled by M. Hiraga."

"So this woman is an agent of a foreign government we have no contact with. Great…" Trudeau groaned, "On top of that… she's magically powerful."

"Are those people idiotic?!" Trump barked, "Attacking a consulate before any talks were done!"

"That's not the worst. M. Hiraga and Lady Vallière both stated that she is able to… summon a giant golem to assist her in battle and that she did so twice."

Headaches suddenly got worse in both the Oval Office and Office of the Prime Minister.

"Tell me that bitch didn't use that against our boys," Trump asked, increased frustration in his voice. The sound of a fist hitting a desk resounded through the video call.

"The current reports stated that she didn't."

"Thank God!"

"Anyway." Sajjan continued. "The alarm was sent as soon as she got through the fence. All diplomatic personnel were secured before she got up to the building. She was engaged, wounded, and apprehended by security forces directly after entering. The American Ambassador is unaccounted for- he was at the Royal Palace at the time of the attack."

"Any casualties?"

"More fear than harm. Except for a sprained ankle, everyone's fine."

Both leaders sighed. It was more good news.

"Is there any indication of a follow up attack? A rescue party for their agent? Anything at all?"

"Nothing so far though we are still waiting for news from Tristainia."

"What about that Fucket?" Trump asked with Trudeau correcting him.

"Simple. We bring her back here and send her to CSIS's headquarters in Ottawa," Goodale answered unhesitantly, "The CIA liaisons will be called to join in the interrogation."

On the American side, the phone of Trump's desk rang. He picked it up. "Is that so? Good! Go to the Princess and put her on the line. We want to speak with her right now about this!" Trump put the phone down. "That was forwarded from Ambassador Fitzgerald before he was secured." He explained. "He says the Princess is aware of the attack and is sending forces to the neighborhood to help. They've promised full cooperation in dealing with this and have even offered shelter to our people."

"Excellent," Trudeau replied diplomatically.

"Mr. President, Prime Minister. This event has already happened and now we have two very important things to decide- together-" Freeland remarked pointedly at the screen. "How are we going to respond to this event, and what can we do to prevent a repeat?"

"How do we avoid a repeat?" Trudeau asked. "How did she use her magic exactly?"

"The report says she turned the fence and the wall to dust. If our understanding of their magic is right, an Earth mage like herself can control anything that comes from the earth."

"Including stone and brick?" The Minister of Defense asked incredulously. "Any building material made from the earth? Do I even need to say how difficult countering something like that is?"

"The best we can do," Goodale suggested, "Is monitoring the surroundings for anymore suspicious lurkers. Perhaps reinforce the walls with transformed materials from Earth?"

"Something artificial? I doubt a mage would know composites are," Sajjan pointed out, "Perhaps reinforced concrete as well?"

"What about the response to the attack itself? First of all, does absolutely anyone outside of the American, Canadian, or Tristain governments know about this?"

"Lady Valliere and M. Saito were witnesses since they were at the consulate. The scientific parties will know eventually because they kept in touch with our world through the consulate. I imagine the public in that world will notice all the troop movements."

"But no one else on our side?"

"As far as we know, except everyone gathered here… no," Goodale reported as another familiar figure appeared on the screen next to Trump.

"Perfect timing." Trump praised his Secretary of Defense.

"Good day Jim!" Sajjan greeted, "I believe that you've been informed of everything that's happened today?"

"Yes," the gruff man answered, "Luckily things aren't going badly."

"No, not this time eh. The attacker is in custody and we'll be transporting her here as soon as possible. We were just about to discuss our response to her masters," Sajjan answered with Mattis nodding.

"We can have Marines reinforcing within 24 hours with the right clearances." Mattis nodded respectfully at his Canadian counterpart. "As far as retaliation goes, obviously our hands are tied. We have no fleets or air bases over there. What we can do now is bulk up and make it clear we will not be intimidated."

"Think we can send back elements of JTF2?" Trudeau asked Sajjin. The team deployed had been reduced when the MPs arrived. He got a confirmative nod.

"We can also deploy some of the regular and reserve assets from the 2nd Canadian Division but I doubt we'll need that much firepower right away. This supposedly powerful mage was taken out by plain gunfire. We don't need to be heavy handed in this."

"Jim?" Trump asked.

"Marine FAST Teams will be our quickest bet and we can have follow up forces afterwards."

"We'll need permission from the Princess for this." The two were reminded by Minister Freeland, "I doubt that Tristain would appreciate us sending heavier forces."

"We can all agree on something at least," Trudeau remarked with everyone looking at him, "We are not running away from these… thugs."

"Absolutely!" Trump declared, banging his fist on his desk and Mattis nodded. Trump's phone rang again. "Hello? Alright, let's get her patched in so everyone can hear her."


"Eum Greetings? Can you hear me, M. Trump, Mr Trudeau?" She spoke unsurely into the object the American Ambassador had placed on the table in front of her. He'd told her just to speak, and not only would they hear her, but she could hear their responses from it.

"Preposterous that such a mere box can do such things," Richemont whispered to Delage who agreed, "I doubt that they will stay in Tristain."

"Loud and clear your Highness!" Trump responded loudly startling everyone in the council room, "Is everyone fine over there?"

"We are well M. Trump. The Royal Palace has not been attacked," she said, hiding her surprise.

"I'm very happy to hear such good news," Trudeau said warmly, "Are you alone with Ambassador Fitzgerald?"

Henrietta shook her head.

"I am currently with my Regency Council."

Her Justice Minister was glaring at her.

"Greetings then. I wish to introduce myself. I am Prime Minister Justin Trudeau of Canada. I'm currently with some of my Ministers."

"How are we to introduce ourselves to them?," Cardinal Mazarin asked Ambassador Fitzgerald, "Must we take turns to speak before this… cellphone?"

"No, you merely need to speak your Eminence," he explained, "With your usual tone of voice."

"Greetings Prime Minister Trudeau. I am Cardinal Émile-Richard de Mazarin of Tristania. It is an honour to finally speak to you."

"The pleasure is mutual your Eminence," Trudeau said before Trump cleared his throat.

"Good day to you Cardinal Mazarin, I'm President Donald J. Trump of the United States of America."

His rather inelegant introduction contrasted greatly with the Canadian Prime Minister's. There was a swift series of introductions of the other Regency Council members and present Canadian Ministers. Trump grinned as he introduced the SecDef.

"I'd like to introduce you to Secretary of Defense James 'Mad Dog' Mattis. To make it clearer, this man is the great warrior that leads the armies of the United States of America in defense of the American nation and its people!" he boasted, "He wishes to speak to you."

The epitaph was certainly not reassuring to the Tristainians.

"Your Highness. Gentlemen." A different, gruffer voice said.

"Hello, M. Mattis." Henrietta was the only one brave enough to return the greeting.

"Greeting your Highness, I've been looking forward to discuss with you and your people," Mattis said quite politely, "It is quite a shame that we must speak under such unpleasant circumstances but it will have to make do."

"Yes," Henrietta replied, not expecting such a polite tone from the man, "It is a great shame for us that this was allowed to happen." Even if the Princess hadn't spoken to her directly, Agnes bowed her head in shame.

"I have to ask if there's anything you are doing over there to ensure our people's safety?" he asked calmly.

"My personal guard Agnes issued orders for troops to go guard the neighborhood your consulate is located in. The most powerful mage in our Kingdom, Lady Karin de la Vallière of The Heavy Wind, is leading them right now along with her husband, Lord Centurion de la Vallière of the Earthly Bulwark. No magic user will be able to pass them."

"That reassures me," Trudeau added in, "Are any other measures being taken?"

"The Royal Palace is open to your people and their guards." The Princess reaffirmed, and suddenly the call got noisier.

"Your Highness! You can't let more foreign soldiers in that easily!" Richemont shouted, "They could assassinate us and take over the kingdom!"

"Please listen to Minister Richemont," Delage added insistently, "This is too much."

"Again, you are being far too trusting my dear daughter," her mother said.

The sound of someone clearing their throat caught the bickering council by surprise.

"Excuse me but we can hear you… very clearly," Trump said, irritated by all the loud yelling, "Don't worry about anything. We're not interested in overthrowing anyone cooperative."

His words seemed to have stunned the council into temporary silence.

"I understand that you are… unfamiliar with our diplomatic customs," Minister Freeland politely cut in, trying to defuse the tense situation, "But signed declarations are golden in our world. The Ottawa Declaration of Goodwill is clear in its intent and we have no intentions of renouncing it."

"Thank you for your reassurances, Minister Freeland," Henrietta said, placating her detractors and throwing a slightly smug look at her Regency council, "So what will you do next?"

"We were discussing that before you came in, your Highness," Prime Minister Trudeau answered, "Be assured we have no intentions of abandoning you or Tristain. We intend to face these Reconquista brutes."

Henrietta sighed in relief. Her worst fear had been averted.

"We have already decided that Fouquet is to be brought to Earth for imprisonment," Freeland said, "Since her attack was against our consulate."

"I remember the agreement," Henrietta said, "That the consulate is to be considered sovereign territory of Canada and the United States."

"Your Highness! That is preposterous!" Richemont exclaimed angrily, "She commited her crime in our country!"

"I sold the land, as was my right as the crown, to the Americans and Canadians. That makes it their land on which their laws apply." Henrietta stated calmly. She'd actually gifted it, but they'd promised compensation and that sounded better at the moment..

Richemont seemed beside himself. He stared incredulously and wide eyed at the other members of the council, as if begging them to speak against the madness they were hearing. At last, First Minister Delage spoke up quietly.

"While it indeed was your right, Princess, this is really something you should have shared with us. Why didn't you?" A gloved palm slammed down on the table, making everyone on the call jump.

"Because," she stated fiercy, "It is my duty to help Tristain and its people and this is the way to do it! Had I demanded your approval, any efforts would have been stopped! You would have stalled any effort to befriend the Americans and Canadians! Everything I do, I do for our Kingdom, and I will not be held up by your foolish concerns anymore!"


Back in Canada, the Prime Minister and his cabinet were wondering approvingly if perhaps Trump's mannerisms had rubbed off on the girl in their short time interacting or if something she'd seen or heard on Earth had stoked a fire in her heart. Several hundred miles south, the American President was nodding and smirking approvingly as he listened to the young woman- no, ruler- laying into her simpering subordinates.


Silence followed her words for a few shocked moments before the Archduchess decided to speak up hesitantly. "My daughter may have a point- do we really want to face the burden of having to imprison a mage and driving off any Reconquista rescue attempts?"

"And this won't worsen our standing with Cromwell?" Richemont demanded angrily. "They will find out about this sooner or later, and they will be angry!"

"They already have their sights set on us. I don't think this will change that." Henrietta responded calmly.

"You've seen the way these people react to magic!" Richemont blustered. "How could they possibly hope to imprison a mage of her caliber?! She should be in our custody."

"We've held far more dangerous people." Trump spoke up. "A disarmed mage will be easy."

"Besides, see it like this," Minister Goodale said, "She will be held, without her wand, in a completely different world that she doesn't know much about. Her hair is… unnatural in our world and she would stand out in any crowd if she tried to escape."

"There are also other advantages to her detainment being on Earth." Sajjin added. "Once she's in our world, she is not coming back. Ever," No one noticed Richemont pale slightly. "She'll never be a threat to you again, either as a spy or an enemy combatant."

"We have agreed to hold her in Canada. Should she escape, the weather will take care of her," Mattis remarked. This is was an obvious bluff. March was when winter was slowly ending but the nights were unbearably cold and the days weren't that warm either.

"What...will happen to her?" Delage asked nervously. Civil as these people were, the tales they had from that boy were still… unpleasant to remember.

"Detained and interrogated by our intelligence services for any useful information about Albion," Mattis answered firmly, "And after that, she'll face trial for her crimes."

"A trial for a spy?!" Mazarin exclaimed, "But what is the purpose? She is obviously guilty."

"It is the way our laws are written. A person if guaranteed a fair trial before a judge or a jury if they so choose" Trudeau explained.

"Obviously, the charges against her are rock solid anyways." Trump casually added. "But it'll show Albion how civilized nations act."

The emphasis on 'civilized' was not missed by anyone on the call.

"Albion…" Henrietta mused. "M. Trump, M. Trudeau, what exactly will your response be to Albion?"

"We'll make it clear we strongly condemn their actions when the opportunity presents itself," Freeland answered, "We'll give them a chance to explain themselves if they want to and issues any grievances, but we will not let them think they can do this again."

Everyone had a feeling that Albion wouldn't do anything to help diffuse the situation..

"As for an immediate response." Trump cut in. "We're deploying more of our men to guard our people and our consulate. We are also going to reinforce its defenses."

"That's it?"

Richemont actually seemed a little relieved.

"For now." Mattis answered gravely. "Any further aggression will be met with a greater response."

"I see M. Mattis," Henrietta said before her mother spoke up.

"Excuse me but what will condemning their actions do? What are the implications?"

"Quite simple your Majesty," Freeland replied in her usual diplomatic tone, "We acknowledge that they have deliberately ruined any chance of diplomatic talks and that we refuse any dialogue until they prove to be trustworthy. It will also help justify any sanctions or interventions against them."

"Very well, I must admit that such a measure is unusual Minister Freeland," the Archduchess said, "But you have proven to be quite understanding and cooperative."

"Reconquista will absolutely dread it." Richemont sighed, the realization finally dawning on him this was all happening whether the regency council approved or not. How could these otherworlders have changed the Princess so drastically? What had she seen?

"As Foreign Minister, I'd like to know if there are any sanctions against Albion since Cromwell overthrew the Tudors?"

Delage nodded.

"Yes Minister Freeland, all of the Blessed Realms and Germania have officially cut ties with them. There are no legitimate trade ships going to its ports. No one is buying their windstones or any other merchandise. We are also doing our best efforts to quell any smuggling effort."

"Sorry to cut in." Trump interjected. "We're going to set up in a room with more of my people to deal with this. M. Mattis'll remain here to talk with you." To the Canadians, the screen cut off. To the Tristainians, they just stopped hearing him.

"In other words, there's an embargo on Albion, am I correct?" Freeland asked.

"Yes."

"Do you know if this Fouquet was staying in Tristain or if she left Albion prior to her mission?" Goodale cut it. This was a matter that concerned CSIS who was under Public Safety.

"Well Lou- Lady Vallière and M. Saito last faced her in Albion," Henrietta explained, "So it is safe to say that she has returned to Tristain."

"Despite the embargo?" Goodale noted.

"So it would appear." Henrietta admitted in embarrassment.

"I see. Who is the noble in charge of border security? Under whose jurisdiction does it fall?" Mattis asked. Richemont gulped nervously, not liking the direction this conversation was taking.

"That would be under the Justice Minister."

"M. Richemont, I believe you said it was?" Trudeau asked.

"Yes." He spoke up. "I am." He was actually glad for this infernal device now; at least these people weren't in the room staring intently at him like all the others.

"I see," Goodale said, "Is there a chance that Reconquista might have infiltrated your border authorities? Or bribed them?"

"W-well, I-" The Justice Minister had a brief reprieve when the American President re-joined the call. On the Canadian side, they could see over the video feed he was now joined by his Secretary of State

"Welcome back M. Trump," Trudeau said, "Hello Secretary Pompeo. I hope you are doing well."

The man nodded quickly

"The CIA Director and the Director of National Intelligence will be here soon." Trump explained. "Your Highness, this is Secretary Pompeo, one of my people."

"Good afternoon Your Highness, M. Trudeau." He greeted the gathered ministers and nobles.

"What did we miss, Jim?" Trump wanted to jump right back into the conversation.

"We were about to discuss on how Fouquet was able to return to Tristain," the SecDef informed, "And it seems that it might be due to lax border security."

"Is that so? And who's in charge of that?" Trump said ominously much to the discomfort of the Tristainians listening to him.

"Oh lord, here he goes." One of Trudeau's Ministers whispered so that the microphone didn't hear them, "Richemont's not gonna like this."

"Gonna regret waking up this morning eh?"

"Justice Minister Richemont," Mattis explained to his president before shifting his attention, "Now, you were saying Minister Richemont?"

"My border security isn't infiltrated by Reconquista and I assure you that my men are trustworthy!" the flustered minister defended angrily as he banged his fist on the table, "There are other ways to enter Tristain! Perhaps she hired a smuggler to get her in! Reconquista probably released a number of them in exchange of their services after they seized power!"

"Well something is clearly wrong if that woman got back into your country minister!" Trump remarked angrily.

"I assure you that I am using the utmost effort to stop them!" Richemont snapped back

"Is smuggling an issue in your country, Princess Henrietta?" Trudeau asked kindly, breaking up the back and forth.

"Pirates and smugglers have always been an issue for all nations." She explained. "Tristain, Gallia, and Germania all share the same sea and skies and it is an easy way to avoid tariffs and border searches. Even pirate airships have long prowled the skies around Albion."

"I see," Trudeau said, gears turning in his head.

"Don't you have a Coast Guard of some kind?" Trump asked.

"Coast...Guard?" Henrietta was sure she knew what the term meant, but she'd never heard it before.

"Excuse us, You Highness. We need need to discuss something." Trump said. "Just wait and we'll be right back.

"Oh, very well…" Henrietta seemed surprised.


"It'll be bad for business and security if these people can't look after themselves." Trump shook his head once it was just the Americans and Canadians. "We can forgive an accident or two because they're backwards, but there's a limit before it's not worth the trouble."

"He's right." Sajjin conceded.

"Is there something you want to suggest?" Trudeau asked his counterpart. The POTUS looked like he was just waiting to be asked.

"We speed things up. These people still use wooden ships, don't they? We expedite things, set it up so we can sell them wood soon. Or better yet we trade them wood for better deals or offer it as payment. You buy some from your own people and give it to them, they get what they need and you keep your money in your economy."

"Just because we give them new wood doesn't mean they're going to turn out an efficient Navy or Coast Guard."

"So we help them train one!" Trump said immediately. "Give it to the Princess so we know it's someone we can trust."

"That would be a very severe escalation of things." . "These people may be behind us in technology, but this still is global politics." Helping train other nation's militaries wasn't new, but it was exactly the kind of thing that got you into proxy wars or risked having the military personnel training them killed during peacetime, which never looked good at home.

"Our consulate being attacked was an escalation." Mattis spoke up. "At the end of the day, humans are humans."

"We're going to have to invest a little more into this world if we want to get anything out of it." Trump insisted.

"And let's not forget that these people are our neighbors now. If anything happens to them, we have to face a threat directly." Hearing one of his Cabinet agreeing with the American POTUS was a surprise to be sure. But they were right- pretty much the entire point of these efforts was to make sure Canada had stable neighbors and that North America at large was safe.

"Either way, we'll need a few weeks to put a plan like that together." Trudeau summarized, wondering if the environmentalist crowd would try and crucify him just for selling lumber. And that wasn't counting other factors, like if Tristain had the money or manpower to even run a Coast Guard or increase its Navy.

"Can we at least agree we need to teach these people how to take care of themselves?" Trump asked impatiently. He looked up from the screen at something in the room on his end. "Good, you're here. Take a seat." Two new people joined the President and SecState on the screen- the Director of National Intelligence and the Director of the CIA.

"That would help things. Anyone have any suggestions on what we can do right now that isn't drastic?" Trudeau looked around for suggestions.

"We send people to help them root out corruption." Trump stated. "We're good at that. Or we should be." Fortunately, he didn't go into a rant on US politics. "This is about religion, and that can turn citizens into traitors. We know this. The same thing should be happening over there. We send over some smart people to help. Good people with good equipment, not like that girl and that kid she had running around with her. We help them clean up and we can get more done safely."

"As long as the Princess is adamant about punishing corrupt officials." Mattis warned. The Afghan and Iraqi governments and security forces had been a nightmare to work with because they wouldn't deal with their own corrupt people. It didn't matter what evidence got thrown in front of them about drug smuggling or other crimes.

"You heard her earlier Jim, she's got leadership in her."

"We'll need to ask the Princess before we scale up our intelligence operations. We can't have them investigating their people and still hiding as members of our diplomatic detail."

"Then let's get her back in on the call and ask her right now."


"Are you still there, Your Highness?" It was Trudeau's voice. It had been over ten minutes.

"Yes, we are." She nodded.

"Princess, I have two more people with me." Trump spoke up. "They are the people whose resources get my country all the information it needs to stay safe and ahead of its enemies, and to help us catch traitors in our midst. There is no one better than them in our world." He paused for a moment to let that sink in. "We want to offer some of those resources to your country, to help you."

He cleared his throat.

"I'd like to introduce you to the Director of the Central Intelligence Agency, Gina Haspel, and the Director of National Intelligence, Daniel Coats."

"We are pleased to meet you, Madam Haspel and M. Coats," Henrietta said, remembering her meeting with George Devers, "I presume that M. Trump has asked if you are able to help us?"

"Indeed," Haspel answered, "We can spare great effort in helping you seeing as how Reconquista is a threat to all of our nations."

"I thank you."

"What would this assistance consist of?" Delage asked skeptically.

"Very simple, our agents will assist you in rooting out traitors and work with yours to do," Coats explained, "They are supremely skilled to say the least."

"Are they the ones that found Osama Bin Laden?" Henrietta asked, remembering that particular tale from her first trip on Earth.

"The same ones!" Trump said, "Would have been faster had I been president."

"Then I will agree to your aid. Will Canada assist us in these endeavours?"

"Naturally," Minister Goodale answered, "The United States and Canada have long collaborated on security matters."

"You- you can not possibly agree to this your Highness!" Richemont protested. "Are we supposed to just take their word over our own people?!" He stood up, his temper getting the better of him. "For two months, these people have been here and no matter how much we talk, nothing has been accomplished! And- and now they're sending their soldiers into our kingdom to 'help us' by taking over our duties?! This is madness! We are being turned into a vassal!"

"Have they said anything about taking over our duties?" Mazarin remarked, "They have only proposed collaboration between our security forces and theirs. If anything, this shows that they are willing to work with us and pave the way for an alliance if I understand their customs correctly."

"You are not mistaken your Eminence," Minister Freeland replied, "Your wisdom is impeccable."

"Thank you but I owe it to my services to the Founder and Church," he explained, "I fear that Reconquista's teachings are dangerous to our world's order and will bring needless bloodshed to our lands." The Cardinal often wondered if any of the nobles in their land had already abandoned their loyalty to Tristain for the rebellious teachings. It was impossible to be sure.

"I must reluctantly agree to this," Delage finally said, clearly displeased at the prospect, "I do not like the idea of foreign agents working in Tristain. But I do have faith that these agents will not be tainted by Reconquista."

"What about you your Majesty?" Trudeau asked politely.

"I believe that First Minister Delage has expressed an opinion similar to mine," the Archduchess answered, "I hope that my daughter's faith in you is not misplaced."

"Have no fear your Majesty," Coats answered, "You will find that her Highness is smart in where she puts her trust."

Richemont looked aghast. Not only had the Princess defied him, now the rest of the council had turned against him.

"Mark my words! We are committing a grave mistake today!" he shouted accusingly, "Even Germania did not use such pernicious means to turn us into a vassal!"

"Do you have any other solution Minister Richemont?" Henrietta asked sharpely, irritated by the man.

"I believe that we do not need such assistance! Our border guards and agents are good enough!" he argued only to be interrupted by Trump.

"If they were so good, how did that spy get in so easily!? That incident proves that you're not doing enough!" The Justice Minister turned a shade of purple. The Canadians held back a collective groan of irritation.

"Please, M. Trump, Minister Richemont, we are trying to work out a solution today," Trudeau calmly mediated, "One that will benefit both of us."

"If such is the desire of this council," Richemont relented, defeat obvious in his tone.

"Thank you Minister."

The Archduchess cleared her throat.

"Excuse me but who is this Osama Bin Laden?" she asked, intrigued by the story, "You've mentioned him Henrietta."

"Yes mother. I heard of his terrible crimes."

"One of the worst piece of human garbage to have walked on Earth," Trump explained angrily, "That coward ordered his men to attack my country and killed thousands of innocents in one day."

"It was one of the worst days of our time," Trudeau continued, "Many of my countrymen died as well."

The archduchess dreaded asking how the attack went. The Canadian Prime Minister sensed the unease but pressed on.

"The attackers hijacked four of our world's... airships with their passengers in them before crashing three of them into important buildings. The passengers in the fourth gave their lives by fighting back and crashing it in a field rather than a building."

"If I remember correctly, 3000 people died right?" Henrietta asked with compassion.

"Yes, your Highness." Trump answered angrily, "It happened in my home city and I was there when the towers collapsed. Two of the greatest buildings in my country turned to dust and rumble in an instant with thousands trapped underneath."

Henrietta gasped softly at his version of tale.

"Did you catch him?" Richemont spoke, a mix of morbid fascination and nervousness in his voice. He had to hand it to them. Catching Fouquet that easily was something many nobles only dreamt of.

"Oh yes," Trump snarled almost sinisterly, "We found that rat's hiding hole after 10 long years so we sent in our best men to kill that dirty bastard in his sleep before throwing his corpse in the ocean where it belongs."

Richemont blanched. The lack of hesitation or remorse was unnerving to say the least. It reminded of the rumours he had heard about the Romalian Inquisition. Even then…

"M. Devers told me the same story," Henrietta remembered.

"If anything, we are lucky if your Central Intelligence Agency and CSIS are willing to collaborate with us," Cardinal Mazarin said uncertainly, "If they are that skilled."

"Our success will not depend only our skill but on yours as well," Trudeau stated diplomatically, "If you are able to be honest with us, we should be able to overcome any issue."

"Indeed, Prime Minister Trudeau," Delage said.

"I have one last topic of discussion for us that you may agree." Trudeau suggested, "From what I understand, Tristain's navy is under equipped and outdated. Am I correct?"

"Yes, we have difficulty in securing enough funding to supply our shipyards with lumber and other materials." She explained, ignoring the unsure glances her council gave her.

"We may have a solution to that." Trudeau told her. "It will take some time on our end before we can present it-"

"Knowing these people it'll take half a year." Richemont muttered darkly.

"-but we may be be able to help you get those materials. The United States and us have a history of helping nations we consider friends improve their security." The use of 'friend' instead of 'ally' didn't go unnoticed. Then again, as the Regency council was starting to realize, a friend in their world seemed to get as much if not more help as an ally in Halkegenia.

"Not to mention that Canada is famed for its excellent lumber," Trudeau added, trying to hide his snarkiness from Trump, "It will have to be reviewed by my Parliament but it should be feasible to at least sell you lumber with a discount."

"I must admit that this is an interesting arrangement," Delage replied, "I hope that your Parliament will allow it."

"Don't worry, it should be possible," Trudeau said happily, "My… faction controls our Parliament."

Not to be outdone, Trump cleared his throat.

"Perhaps the United States can offer something as well," he glanced over at Mattis, "Do you think we can send of our boys to teach them some tricks? We have a long history with pirates and smugglers ourselves, Your Highness." He explained.

"I believe it could be possible," the SecDef replied, "It'll take a couple of weeks to arrange it."

"We are very grateful." Henrietta told him.

"I'm sure all three of our governments have matters they need to discuss between themselves." Trump pointed out.

"That is true." The Canadians shared the same sentiment. "Before we break the call, is there absolutely any other matter any side wishes to bring up?" There were none.

"We can talk again when everything's been immediately dealt with." Trump declared. "Trudeau, Your Highness, good day."


"I told you how easy these people were to talk to." Trump said to his subordinates. They nodded in agreement.

"What do we do next M. President?" Coats asked, "Do we tell the media what happened?"

"According to my aides," Mattis added, "Some reporters saw you react to something earlier today at around the time we got news of the attack."

Trump groaned. Of course the vultures had to be there at the worst moment.

"I say we let them talk," the president said tiredly, massaging his temples.

"Unfortunately, that wouldn't be possible," Haspel noted, "After all, any supply convoy to Tristain will have no choice but to go through Montreal which is the second largest city in Canada."

"Any large movement will be noticed by the locals then," Mattis concluded, "That means we can forget any secrecy."

"Might I suggest we recontact the Canadians later today for a joint declaration on what happened?" Pompeo suggested, "It will make sure that everyone gets the same thing out and limit any misinterpretations."

There was a collective nod of agreement at the Secretary of State's suggestion. Rest would be appreciated.

"I can see the wisdom in waiting as well," the SecDef said, "We'll be able to get more information from the situation in Tristania."

"Very well, I sure could use a break after all of this," Trump finally said getting up.

"Anyone notice M. Trudeau's get up?" Pompeo as they exited the room.

"I guess he got his priorities right for once," Trump remarked dryly.


"Looks like we'll have to tell Parliament and the public," Trudeau stated, "This is getting far too big to keep secret."

"The troop and supply movements will be obvious to say the least," Sajjan remarked, "Do you think Montreal's infrastructure would able to sustain such things? CFB Montreal is ready but what about the area around it?"

Goodale shook his head.

"Considering how some of the key overpasses are currently being rebuilt and how most of the streets around are covered in orange cones," he reported grimly, "That will be difficult to manage but feasible."

"Wonderful," Trudeau sighed irritated, "We'll have to recontact the Americans this afternoon as well as Mayor Plante and Prime Minister Couillard. We need Montreal's roads to be functional at 100%."

"We'll also have to get Ministers Champagne and Bibeau to help as well," Freeland stated, "Since we're getting involved directly with Tristain's development and stepping up trade efforts."

"Get them on the phone," Trudeau ordered as he got up, "We'll also need to speak with Minister Garneau concerning the bridges and railroads around Montreal if we are to ship in large amounts of supplies."

He was making his way out when Goodale asked him a quick question.

"Justin?"

"Gonna need a change of clothes."


The American Ambassador had left to contact his people. It'd be a while before they all arrived at the palace. That gave the Regency Council time to discuss.

"These people are still strange, your Highness." Delage stated. "But seeing them dealing with a threat and not talking business, I can understand your hopes."

"Thank you First Minister," Henrietta said gracefully, "They are indeed different in culture but

"I hope we do not regret this," Richemont stated, displeasure obvious in his voice, "This seems to be to good to be true."

"I must admit that I was quite… impressed with your conduit," her mother said, "You have changed much since your return from Earth."

"Mother?"

"You handled this incident quite well," Minister Delage stated, "Despite how sudden it was."

Richemont glared at them in disgust.

"Have you lost any touch with reality?! Her Highness has been nothing but rash!" he ranted angrily, "And it seems that her rashness has spread to you! You are all being foolish! They are deceiving us with false promises! All of their ambassadors have only been stalling ever since they arrived."

"Minister Richemont," Mazarin spoke up quietly, "This talk has yielded us gains."

"Gains? Merely trivial promises! Of all the people seated here, how can you have faith in men who have not been blessed by Brimir?!"

"Justice Minister." The archduchess spoke up. "Perhaps I should remind you that by daughter is the rightful successor to the king."

"She is right." Mazarin nodded. "And despite being not blessed by the Holy Founder, they seem to be wise people in their world."


"This is not another Benghazi! Our brave servicemen have proven to be more than a match to the Reconquista terrorist! We are not running away in front of such cowardice!" Trump declared firmly in front of the cameras at the White House conference room, "We, as Americans, have a duty to stand up against aggressors anywhere!" The cameras flashed and questions were yelled.

But moan and criticize as the pundits did later that night, America was going forward with things.


"It is unfortunate that Reconquista's leaders have chosen violence as a course of action without even holding a dialogue with us," Trudeau expressed, standing behind a podium at Parliament, "In doing so, they have proven their barbarity to us. It is therefore our responsibility as a free nation to assist Tristain and her people so they may prosper."

Needless to say, Trudeau didn't get any unmanageable resistance from Parliament as his Liberals held the majority of the seats.


In the wake of the attack against the Consulate, public opinion in Canada and the United States were divided. On traditional and social media, debates raged furiously about whether or not their nations should pull out from Tristain over the hostile action.

There were still many people who were very optimistic about this new world, too optimistic to let a little setback (to them, anyway) destroy it. Others thought the two nations should focus on themselves instead of tying themselves up in a new world. And some people were just expressing that classical human fear of the unknown.

Whatever the public's position, things would go on. For now, at least.


Louise hated humility, and humility was what using these crutches was. They were borrowed from the Americans and Canadians- something to help her get around with her ankle the way it was. She hoped that she could get to a Water Mage quickly and get out of these.

"Are you sure you don't want me to help?" Saito offered again.

"I'm fine." Louise huffed, out of breath as the two made they walked in the consulate's hallways, escorted by the security forces. They'd stayed in that room for what seemed like ages and only now were they being let out. They'd been told the Princess was letting the Americans and Canadians stay at the palace. They were getting sent along too, and Louise dreaded having to see the Princess like this.

They got an interesting sight just as they left though- the soldiers carrying the unconscious body of a very familiar green-haired person on a pallet. "That's her!" Louise gasped.

"Fouquet…" Saito looked shocked to see her here. Then he started laughing, embarrassing loud enough to draw attention.

"What is with you?" Louise whispered angrily.

"She got completely owned!" Saito laughed, and Louise had no idea what he was talking about. Probably some strange expression from his world.

"Completely owned?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, "What does that mean exactly?"

"Oh, it means that she got euh," Saito was struggling to find his words, "Totally defeated without being able to fight back."

"Is she…?" Louise asked, slightly uncomfortable.

"No," another voice cut in. It was Anders who looked slightly winded while Stanford stood next to him, "She's been incapacitated and will be taken into custody on Earth."

"So that means she won't be able to escape and cause more trouble for us?" Saito asked, smiling. It was the best news he had heard today.

"Exactly," Anders said, "Our bosses'll also enjoy talking to her."

A familiar roar caught Louise's attention and caused her to groan.

"I'd know that anywhere," she muttered to Saito who looked at her with a puzzled expression, "That's Mother's manticore."

Saito blanched slightly. Their last meeting with Louise's parents hadn't gone well. Mainly being caught sleeping in the same bed after they thought that the Duke and Duchess had left with their armies. The only reason they were probably still alive was they couldn't spare time to stay any longer and scold them.

"What's she doing here?" He asked, he looked at the front door. "Whoa…"

"What?" Louise went to stand beside him and were surprised too. There were troops- Tristainian troops- in the street. Pikemen, cavalry, and more. And clad in armor and walking through the consulate gate was their leaders: Louise's parents on their familiars. The duchess was on Camille, her manticore while the duke was on his Pegasus, Charles.

Predictably, Louise's first instinct was to hurry back inside as she could and pull Saito back with her to avoid being seen. Unfortunately for them, Ambassador Ambroise exited the Embassy with his guards and made his way to her parents.

"Greeting Duke, Duchess," he greeted reverently, bowing his head.

"Greeting Ambassador," the duke said, "I am grateful that you are unharmed."

"Thank you milord."

"Are any of your men injured?" the duchess inquired, "I can supply a Water mage to assist."

"Ah thank you Duchess Vallière. None of my men are injured but your youngest daughter has injured her ankle."

"Take me to her. Immediately." the duchess demanded bluntly.

"I saw her near the exit." Ambroise replied as he guided the two nobles, "I can accompany you inside."

"How was she injured?" the Duke asked angrily, "Was it because your security failed?!"

Ambroise shook his head.

"While we were being led to a safe room, your daughter unfortunately tripped over her dress," he explained calmly.

"I hope it didn't cause too much trouble," the duke continued.

"Not at all," the ambassador answered warmly, "M. Hiraga was able to carry her to safety."

"Is that so?"

Louise could only do her best to suppress a groan as she saw her parents enter the consulate. She couldn't exactly hide.

"Hello Mother, Father," she said weakly.

"Louise! How do you keep getting in such predicaments!" her father scolded, "First in that bed with that boy. Now this?"

"Why were you with M. Ambroise? I hope you and your familiar were not wasting his time on a whimsy!" her mother added before turning to one of her guards, "Please summon D'Hauterive and tell him my daughter has injured her ankle."

The man bowed and left.

"I'll be fine mother," Louise insisted weakly while the ambassador led them to a room to sit.

"The fact you are in crutches means that you are injured!" her father said, "You still haven't answered why you were here rather than at the Academy."

"We were summoned by Ambassador Ambroise," she answered, slightly more confident, "He had matters to discuss with us."

"Yeah! It was about that spy Fouquet!" Saito said, surprised at his sudden burst of confidence, "They wanted us to tell them about our encounters with her!"

"And what did you have to tell about her?" the duke asked in a bored tone, "Beyond the fact that she is a known Reconquista agent."

"That I've faced her twice and defeated her twice," the teenager boasted proudly, catching the noble's attention.

"Do tell me more young man," he asked, intrigued, "Especially how a commoner could defeat that thief."

"We-"

"Actually!" Louise interrupted. "We can't. It's Her Highness' order." She shrunk under the glare of both her parents.

"Perhaps we should consult her Highness on this," the Duchess suggested with her husband agreeing.

"At a later date. Right now, we've been entrusted with an important mission."

"We have." The Duchess acknowledged. She turned sternly to her daughter. "As soon as your ankle is healed, you will return to the Academy." Louise had hoped to visit her friend before they left the Capital, but she realized it was probably a bad time.

"Excuse me, Lord Vallière?" Ambroise cut in politely, "But I've received word that your daughter and her familiar are to come with us to the Palace. Her Highness has demanded their presence as well as yours."

"I see," the duchess said as the man bid them good day and left to oversee other tasks.

"I think we can ask her Highness if we can talk to you about our secret missions," Saito commented before shrinking at Louise's glare.

"Very well, you may accompany us," the duchess relented, "Though you are not going anywhere until D'Hauterive arrives."

"But since you are here boy," the duke remarked sternly, "Would you know how your leaders would react? Is there any danger for Tristain?"

"Euh... oh… well, they'll be angry at who's responsible for this."

"So Reconquista then?" Louise asked hopefully. She had feared that Tristain would be held responsible for this while her parents listened carefully. The familiar was still a commoner… but he was a commoner from the other world. So he ought to have some understanding of their leaders.

"Yeah, they tend to know who to blame for problems," Saito explained, "I saw it on the news whenever something bad would happen to them."

"I see," the duke said just as a robed mage arrived, dressed in blue robes, "Greetings D'Hauterive!" he greeted, "My youngest daughter has gotten herself injured again."

"I see," the man said, running quick diagnostic spells on Louise, "Sprained ankle, nothing too difficult to heal."

A wave and incantation quickly patched up the young noble.

"Milady, you must be more careful," the man quietly scolded, "Someday, I might not be there to fix you up."

Louise grumbled something before getting back up.

"Can we go to the Palace now?" she pouted, not wanting to dawdle any longer when she could be of use to her liege.


Fouquet had lost track of time. She had no idea what these people had done to her, but she felt like she'd slept for an eternity. She could hardly remember how they'd caught her. She only had a faint recollection of being struck by an extreme force. After that it was only odd sensations: an occasional glimpse of light, distant voice, the feeling of movement. Nothing coherent. She wondered if this haze was death and if she'd be in it forever.

And suddenly all her senses returned to her. She was awake and laying on something soft. Her eyes opened and she found herself staring at a dull gray ceiling. The sharp pain in her left leg and arm was gone, replaced by a dull one. Taking a quick glimpse, the former spy noticed her clothes had been changed to an orange set and that she had bandages where her wounds were.

"Where am I?" she muttered as she looked around her unfamiliar surroundings. Four grey walls and a single door with a small window. A sink and a toilet in a corner. She was lying on a metal bed with a simple mattress.

Instinctively, she reached for her wand but realized it was gone and, with it, her means of escape. The door opened, revealing two men, dressed simply. One dark haired, one dark blond.

"Good day to you," the dark haired man greeted with a smile, "I must admit that your little stunt at our consulate in Tristania was quite impressive."

"Who are you!? Where am I!? Release me this instant!" Fouquet demanded angrily.

"Well, that was quite impolite Mrs. Fouquet. You could have at least thanked us for removing those bullets," the blond remarked in an irritatingly polite tone, "But since you insist on knowing, you are on Earth."

That completely stopped the former Reconquista thief's outrage. She was on Earth? The other world?!

"I strongly recommend you don't attempt to escape. The nights are quite cold here right now and our customs are… quite different from yours," the dark haired man said, still in that overly friendly tone, "But if you cooperate, we might be able to show some leniency."

Fouquet scoffed. "I have nothing to say to you people. I will not stay locked up here for long."

"If you say so," the blond replied, "But I'll have you know that your wand has been confiscated and sent to another facility for safekeeping."

That froze the former thief's blood. As long as she could get to her wand, Fouquet could escape… but now, that was impossible.

"Perhaps we should return later? You up for a drink and a snack?" the dark haired man said to his companion as they exited the room.

"Have a nice evening, Ms. Fouquet!"

The door closed and Fouquet began to scan the room for any means of escape. Much to her chagrin, the walls were well maintained and the window far too small for her to squeeze through. Looking out the window, she could see a snow covered city and a setting sun. She approached the door and peered out the window. She saw only a similar door across from her, but only a long barren hallway beyond that.

She didn't panic yet. Her first instinct was to wait. This wasn't the first time she'd been captured after all. Time dragged on, and no one returned to check on her. She caught a glimpse of something outside her door every so often, and was fortunate enough to catch it once- a guard doing rounds.

Finally sleep claimed the former thief.

Fouquet awoke when the first rays of sunlight filtered through the window. Nothing had changed in her predicament. After a few moments, the door opened, revealing the same two infuriating men from the last day. Carrying food and beverages in their hands. Were they going to gloat over her?

"Good morning to you Ms. Fouquet," the dark haired man said pleasantly, "My colleague and I were having breakfast together when we decided to visit you and bring some food."

They placed the food in front of her.

"How awfully nice of you." Insincerity dripped from every word.

"I think she still doesn't like us." One remarked to the other.

"As if I would ever enjoy the company of a commoner," she sniffed disdainfully at the two men, ignoring the enticing odor of warm food.

"Must you use that word in a such a way?" the blond man said, "Our world doesn't adhere to such… rigidity."

"Strange that you speak of us as commoners," the dark haired one said, "You are but a thief afterall. A lowly criminal if I'm not mistaken."

Fouquet's teeth grinded at the insinuation.

"I am a mage and therefore a noble!"

"No. You're a prisoner." The man corrected with infuriating calmness. "And not in Halkeginia anymore."

"Not to mention," the blond one added, "Stuck here for the rest of your days. Which is a good thing because once we'll go through… Reconquista will be gone. For good."

Her first thought was to call the man's words nonsense. But for a moment, she doubted. The Staff of Destruction, the guards at that building- these people were powerful.

"But we like deals you know?" the dark haired one said, "That's why we're getting involved in Tristain. Lots of opportunity for both sides to make money, learn new things, see what I mean?" Money? Was that the outworlders' only motivation? Her masters might enjoy that information, but telling them wasn't high on her priority list.

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked suspiciously.

"Deals are not just monetary in nature," the same man answered, "But we can easily offer many other things to people who cooperate. Clemency, more comfort and so on."

The former thief knew where this was going.

"Do you really think that I would be so easily bought?!" Fouquet snapped, almost insulted.

"Calm down please, Ms. Fouquet," the blond man said soothingly, "You almost make us sound insulting. We were merely showing options."

The other man took a look at his watch.

"It's shame we can't talk more. Good day to you Ms. Fouquet," he said as his colleague stood up and left.

"Please enjoy the food too!" the other one said pleasantly, "Don't worry, it's not poisoned or anything!"

As the door closed, Fouquet tentatively sampled the food. Meanwhile, Harper and Devers were walking down the hallway, engrossed in conversation.

"She's gonna be a tough nut to crack," Devers remarked, "Though it'll be feasible."

Harper nodded.

"I think I saw some cracks in her," he said, "But we can't play around with her for long. The heads want something we can use fast."

"Indeed."


Cromwell was reading through the reports from Airlann. His forces there had been reinforced with additional men and a pair of frigates. His marshals and generals suggested that they lead a reprisal campaign against any local population center that resisted Reconquista's rule or was in league in with the rebels.

Something he authorized. He did not need rebels that defied his will; Brimir's will. It would take time before he could invade Tristain but he didn't fear anything. Cromwell knew that he had his Founder's Blessing. Afterall, how had he overthrown a Blessed House from their throne? Only divine will could have brought him such a triumph.

His agents and allies in Tristain had last reported that the Americans and Canadians were stalling any agreement. Multiple meetings had been held at their consulate but nothing concrete had resulted from them. The events still weren't at the front of his mind most days though.

A knock interrupted his musings and work.

"Enter."

The door opened, revealing Sheffield. She had a serious expression on her face.

"Lord-Protector! I bring ill news from Tristain," she said urgently, "There's has been a most disturbing message from one of our key allies."

"Speak Sheffield," Cromwell ordered, "What has happened?"

"Fouquet has been captured by the otherworlders!" she said.

Cromwell stood up in surprise.

"How has this happened?" he asked surprised, "How could they have bested a mage if they have no magic? Has this impacted their relations with Tristain?"

"I'm afraid that the reports send from our ally has had few details on how Fouquet was captured," She admitted. "But he claims these outworlders have taken Fouquet to their world, supposedly forever." Cromwell frowned at the loss of a skilled agent. "As for relations, this seems to have only driven them closer to Tristain. Supposedly, they will be offering them resources to improve their military and to root out any traitors."

"That is no good." Cromwell forgot the uprisings for a moment. "Tristain was supposed to get weaker, not flourish." He thought for a moment. "These people- they are worried about the portal, is that correct?"

"Tristain has convinced them they do not want to share a border with us." Sheffield reminded him. "Their coddling of the Princess seems to be only so that they have a friendly neighbor who won't cause trouble." Two powerful nations, fearful of the weakest nation in Halkeginia? Or just fearful of war in general?

"We have other matters to attend to than these other worlders." Cromwell stated. But if they were helping Tristain, something that had to be crushed early, it seemed unavoidable.

"Might I suggest something Lord-Protector?"

"Yes Sheffield?"

The woman made her way to a pile of papers and pulled a roll of parchements.

"Perhaps we can use this to our advantage. A few of our spies are not as… reliable or competent as they should be. They could make for a fine distraction for these outworlders while our more talented spies and allies act unimpeded."

Cromwell raised an eyebrow. "They caught one of our people and it only made things worse."

"They caught one of our people attacking them." She corrected politely. "Why should they react the same if they aren't bothering them?"

"I see." He saw the logic in that. "Still, we need to curb their influence. Tristain can not get more powerful or gain any allies. Our sabotaging of Henrietta's wedding was costly enough for them. All we need is to get rid of these newcomers and our plans will fall into place."

"Yes, Lord-Protector. I'll factor in those instructions. We can impair and distract them at once. I will contact our allies on the continent then," Sheffield replied.


It had been only a few days since Fouquet's capture at the Joint Consulate. Things had quieted down after the first two days. More of Ambroise's 'golems' had returned along with more guards for Fitzgerald; a Marine Corps FAST Team. They had arrived very swiftly on their horseless wagons, much to the surprise of the Tristainians.

Once arrived, things had quieted down. The newcomers took to patrolling the building alongside Agnes' Musketeers as well as some of the Vallières' men and securing the breech with guards constantly around it. A Marine sniper team took up constant positions in the attic, their eyes on the lookout for any local that was a little too curious for their own good.

This morning, however, rumbling could be heard as a convoy of vehicles made its way through Tristania to the Consulate. Carrying men and construction supplies which began to unload from their transports. Under the watchful eyes of Henrietta and her Regency council as well as Admiral Jean-Arthur Lucien De Châteauneuf, the commander-in-chief of Tristain's Navy. They were accompanied by the ambassadors.

"As promised," Ambroise said, pointing to one of the military trucks, "A sample of the wood for your ships."

"Thank you Ambassador Ambroise," Henrietta said warmly, "I'm sure Admiral de Châteauneuf will be quite ecstatic to see these samples."

The greying, old man nodded in agreement.

"Yes, indeed," he said monotonically, "I can tell with a glance that this is good wood. I will make a more detailed inspection after you have signed the Naval Agreement."

After the first day, both America and Canada had hurried to make arrangements on their end to send aid. The Ambassadors from both countries had sat down only yesterday to explain their offers of aid a little more clearly:

They would supply Tristain with materials for ships and naval experts to help train the Royal Tristainian Navy up to the same standards as the Royal Canadian Navy and US Navy, or as much as they could with the technology gap. But there was a lot more to an effective Navy than just the weapons. In return, Tristain would accept the aid as not only payment for the manor, but for two plots of land here in the Capital on which the full embassies would be built at a later date, and for one near the coast. That is where the training facility would be built; the first true foreign military base in Halkegenia. Well, in truth it would officially be a US Military base, but both forces would be using it.

It was a drastic step up from how things had been, but the attack had pressed America into reacting and Canada was willingly along for the ride.

"I look forward to signing the Three Nations Naval Agreement," Henrietta said, much to the discomfort of certain members of her council, notably Richemont who was worried about a coup. 'Friendly' military bases in your own country? What an absurd idea! He couldn't believe that the other world had such practices!

Certain nobles had expressed their displeasure as well while others were tentatively willing to such an initiative. It would be a defensive position against Albion, surely? The Vallières, Gramonts and Grandprés had requested that they could have access to this facility.

But much like the Ottawa Agreement, it was largely symbolic currently. The lumber could be delivered, but it'd be months before the base was complete and the training contingent actually started working. Many of the same nobles who were reluctant of this new base also thought it was just more talk leading nowhere.

Unknown to the Tristainians, it would also be a joint CIA/CSIS base for spying on Albion, and be built to a standard that allowed helicopter traffic. For what purpose? Well, America and Canada were keeping their options open on both sides of the portal…

This was purely unknown to Henrietta, but the United Kingdom had also started talking with its old allies about this base and mission. It worried them that a man named Oliver Cromwell had usurped the throne of a kingdom so eerily similar to their own. No one was still sure if this was some alternate Europe or what, but similarities like that couldn't be brushed off. Plus, it was an easy way into the same economic and diplomatic deals America and Canada were getting.

Ambassador Fitzgerald was walking towards them with a man dressed in a green uniform.

"Your Highness, may I introduce you to Commander Andrew Sparrow of the US." The US Navy officer saluted the Princess before he presented himself as the man in charge of the American training team.

As Henrietta and her party entered the consulate, they failed to notice a lone man among the Tristain soldiers observing every one of their move. His true masters would have to hear as soon as they could from what he saw…

Author's endnote: The board is set and the pieces are moving... Just in case. Action's gonna pick up in the next chapters. Big time. For the Cromwell/Sheffield thing, manipulation isn't necessarily having someone groveling at your feet. It's also giving them impulses to act the way you want them too.

Trivia and info: Montreal is infamous for its constant, chaotic mess that are its construction sites. Streets, overpasses, highways are always under repair. ALWAYS

Marie-Claude Bibeau is the Minister of International Development while François-Philippe Champagne is Minister of International Trade.

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