Well...this chap definitely took longer than I planned. In was honestly hoping the first update of the New Year would be...well...closer to the New Year ^^' I'll spare everyone the boring details and just say this chapter took on a life of its own.

Special thanks to PineappleBun1107 for her spectacular beta editing and grammar knighting :) and for Val for always being able to chat despite her chaotic life and for Yesterdaymaybe for the endless phone calls and PM messages that helped e finally get this chapter off the ground and me off my butt to write it :)

Disclaimer: I own only the plot, references to historical figures (including the ACTUAL Timaeus of Locri) are purely fictional with loose reference to historical facts, thought there WAS an actual ancient city of Locri, the Locri and Atlantis of this story are my own creation and not to be copied or used without permission.

Now as i'm sure you've all waited long enough...

Chapter LXVI: Venture

"A new gown?" Yugi asked, just as curious as he was astonished.

"Of course!" Mai roared in that loud, boisterous laugh of hers and spiraled up a steep flight of narrow stairs—a part of the palazzo that Yugi had yet to explore—higher and higher until they came to a room, bright and full of colors.

"Gowns, cloaks, tunics, jerkins, skirts, sleeves, belts, leggings, and small clothes more lovely than any you've ever worn! I guarantee it!" Clasping Yugi's hands, she ushered him into the room.

Wide-eyed with amazement, he gasped, admiring the secret world of the seamstress.

A modest dais sat in the center of the room, illuminated by the light streaming through the gauzy curtains of the huge windows; encircling the dais were wooden dress forms, armed proudly and displaying current projects and completed creations. Bolts of fabric in a plethora of colors were stacked on shelves as high as the ceilings: soft linens glowing white and pristine; bolts of satin glowing golden with a summer warmth; furs, thick and soft; wools dyed in bright, bold colors; and brocades heavy with gold foil, silver, and iron in the shape of rosettes and beasts. Divided by an open pergola, the second half the room had walls made entirely of shelves, and in its center stood a long, large table crowded with knotted ropes, spindle whorls, sharp scissors, and silver bowls of various sizes filled with needles, pins, bobbins, spools of thread, ribbons and trims, buttons and jewels, bits of foil and leaf, and scraps of leather. Yugi absorbed it all with an almost childish wonder.

The business of spinning and textiles, though controlled by the Ipet and the king's lesser wives in Kemet, was often a separate place of business where Yugi seldom had reason to visit: as son of Per-a'ah, servants often came to him when he needed something, but the palazzo of Locri offered an entirely different and more intimate custom.

"Silks and linens with satin linings, all embroidered; furs and wools for the colder months…" Yugi barely registered Mai's words as she helped him onto the dais.

"Wait, wool?" he asked, suddenly concerned. It was a material rarely used in Kemet and forbidden in temples: animal fibers were taboo and were not allowed to touch the skin. Furs and such were fine as blankets and decoration, and he had worn a wool shift on The Eye, but now… "Isn't wool…impure?" Only after saying them did he hear how ridiculously foolish he sounded.

Mai and Serenity both blinked once, then laughed. "Oh, Young Lord, you are in Locri now, not Kemet, and I assure you you'll want a few warm, wool dresses and leggings once the colder times come." She smiled reassuringly, one twinkling eye closed in a wink, and set to work, measuring his waist and limbs with a length of knotted rope. "You leave the materials to me, and if it'll ease your faith, you'll have a whole separate collection for festivals and ceremonies, and I'll make sure the embroidery is lovely. You'll be dazzling! The Magister himself commanded it!"

"Timaeus?" Yugi spun, gasping, then winced when Mai moved him back into position to measure his hips and bust.

"None other!" Mai laughed like it was a dramatic reveal. "Before your arrival, he commanded an entire wardrobe in your honor." Mai laid the robe across his inner thigh and measured down his leg. "He said you were a grown man now and, more importantly, his wife, and should not continue dressing like a sailor's apprentice. Lift your arm."

"We discussed that," Yugi replied, obeying. "But I didn't think…I already have…"

"Oh, not to worry. I know you've plenty of evening gowns and other wedding gifts, yes, but mine will be of finer stock and quality and all fitted with proper sleeves." She flashed him a reassuring smile, and immediately his nervousness eased. "Timaeus has not made me Mistress of the Wardrobe for nothing. He's honored me for many a year with his custom and trusts the quality of my work. I've yet to displease him, and I will be damned if I displease you." Another playful wink, though her smile was kind. "I'll fix you a wardrobe of finer beauty and comfort. 'Tis why he asked me to be your maid, you know: he told us you are a dutiful soul and will want to dress the part of your new role, and I was delighted to offer my talents." She finished his measurements and gave him a smile so assuring he felt immensely calmed.

Yugi nodded. He needed a new wardrobe, he reminded himself. Lovely as his many wedding gifts had been, none were more than simple evening wear or accessories: none were as grand as the costumes Timaeus had described. His linens would do nothing to protect him from the mountain winds and harsh sun and, for all her rudeness, the princess had been correct in that regard.

"Will they be ready by the time Timaeus returns?" he asked curiously.

"Sooner!" Mai promised, bright with confidence. "We've one nearly finished—it just needs to be fitted—and I've got all my apprentices putting aside their other work for this!"

With a snap of her fingers, the Mistress of the Wardrobe was in her element, summoning the girls with a sharp crack of her voice and commanding them with a meticulous efficiency. Five or six girls sitting on stools stopped and snapped to attention at their Mistress' orders. Needles flew and scissors flashed, and Yugi's world passed in a blur of faces and soft fabrics.

"What will the colors be?"

"That's up to you," Mai said with a glance over her shoulder as three girls held up fabrics for her inspection. "I like Locri's colors on you: blue and green will bring out the blue in your eyes, but I also like that black dress you're wearing. Dark colors will match well with your complexion."

"Perhaps some deep greens and purples then," Serenity suggested, pulling out a bolt of silky linen dyed a deep, deep blue with flashes of paler blues and greens like the swirl of the sea at night. "And of course, crimson. We can't forget it."

"All four shades!" Mai agreed immediately. They spun to him for approval. "What do you think, my lady?"

Yugi froze at the title, then nodded enthusiastically. "I can't wait to see them, and the embroidery…"

"I will take care of all of it!" Mai insisted, her voice proud and confident. "None but the best for my Magistrate."

My Magistrate. The words echoed with an almost nostalgic weight in Yugi's ears. Yes, he was their Magistrate. It had been so easy to forget that, only hours earlier, they were all sat in Yugi's sitting rooms, sharing tea and treats since Yugi's boredom had become too much. In truth, he should still be resting: even now, he winced at the soreness in his spine, and standing up for so long had done nothing to ease the tension, but after an hour of trying and failing to do just that, Yugi gave up. Thankfully, Mai and Serenity had proved to be fantastic companions, and the three had spent hours just talking before the topic of fittings came up, and Mai insisted that it'd be best to finish it now.

Yugi could understand why this woman ruled the house in the absence of a proper lady: Mai was a harsh taskmaster but a fair mistress—sharp-tongued and quick-witted yet her heart was kind and her smile gentle. Furthermore, she always had the choice gossip or an amusing story, and in conversation would always offer bemusing feedback.

Serenity's talents were in quiet things: she was a gifted listener, her advice sound, her laugher soft and sweet like a bell, and her humor was as bright and wild as her apple-cheeked smile. Yugi could easily imagine himself befriending them, a prospect he never would've entertained with the servants of the Great House.

Always polite and even kind to him as a child, the servants of Kemet had never been particularly close to Yugi: obedience compelled them to remain within their sphere of influence and never strive for a relationship with him beyond that of servitude. It was out of respect for their God King and His family. Yugi knew this, and yet, how many nights had he wished and wanted for someone—anyone—to see him not as a child of the king, but as a lonely boy in need of a friend?

Rhebekka, Mai and Serenity had welcomed him into their circle of women as easily as they would a close friend or a new family member. Such intimacy had surprised him, despite Timaeus' many warnings. Yugi suspected that, perhaps, it was likely different in the capital, but here in Locri, the title of Magistrate meant more than just a leader. He was one of them—a part of them. He belonged to them.

He belonged here.

"Yugi." He awoke to a light tapping on his shoulder. Serenity was eyeing him carefully, her eyes more puzzled than concerned.

"Yes! Sorry!" he blushed, dismissing the musings. "What were you saying?"

"I was asking," Mai chuckled, mildly amused, "if you wished to try on the dress we made for your arrival. It's nearly complete: we just need it fitted."

"Yes!" Yugi nodded, hopping dow n from the dais, eager to see one of Mai's famous creations.

With a proud smile, the women swept into the next room and pushed back a changing wall from the corner. There, draped over a wooden form, revealed in all its majestic splendor, was a gown of the deepest indigo, the color shimmering as if enchanted between bright blue, sea green, and deep purple like the sky and sea at twilight. Swirling gold embroidery decorated the bodice and skirt in spiral patterns; a belt of cream leather painted with swirls of blue and violet, embroidered with the same golden thread, was tied tight about the waist. And, separated to expose the shoulder and upper arm but tied in place with pale blue ribbons, draped gossamer-silk sleeves that fell elegantly over each wrist.

Despite himself, Yugi sucked in a breath. "It's…amazing." He could think of nothing else, but even that seemed too plain a word for such a stunning garment.

At his side, Serenity did nothing to hide her amazement. Eyes shining, she gasped, "You will look dazzling in that!"

"It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," Yugi said sincerely. He took a step closer, his fingers eager to touch yet terrified to do so. The garment looked so fragile, he feared even the slightest touch would unravel it. "Do you need me to undress to try it on?"

"Yes, my magistrate," Mai nodded, delicately removing the dress from its hanger.

Serenity undid his lacings and caught the dress as it slid to the floor while Mai helped him step into the gown and laced up the back; together, they tied the ribbons about his arms. Yugi held his breath, afraid that applying even the slightest bit of pressure would tear it. The material felt…elusive: not as slippery as silk or as light as linen, but nor was it heavy.

"Well done," Mai praised, stepping back to admire her work.

"I was right!" Serenity clapped her hands. "Dazzling!"

"Do you have a looking glass?" Yugi asked, spinning to admire the gown from all angles. As he moved, the gown moved with him, flowing back and forth like a dance of waves. He felt suddenly energized—euphoric, even.

"Right here." He followed Mai's direction and gazed at his reflection. "You look wonderful, Yugi," she cheered.

Yugi barely heard her, stunned by the radiance staring back at him. The shimmering colors illuminated his honey-gold skin, his dark hair, and the deep blue of his eyes in a way the linens and whites of his native land would've never dreamed. It was as if a flower was taken from its homeland and planted in foreign soil, allowed to adapt and thrive and bloom.

Many had told Yugi he was lovely, but Yugi himself had never given much thought to his appearance. Standing there now and moving about in that dress, he felt graceful, beautiful, elegant. His movements were a dance, his every step an event.

Through the silks of his sleeves, his golden shabka band glittered, and his silver wedding bracelet sparkled like a bright star. At his throat, the Locrian medallion he never removed rested peacefully above the gown's bodice.

He looked beautiful. He looked regal.

He looked…like a magistrate of Locri.

A sudden unexpected thought came with that moment of triumph. Just wait until Timaeus sees me in this.

X X X

"Rhebekka?" Genuine surprise splashing across his face, Yugi leaned over the rail.

She paused on the steps, her riotous golden curls bouncing as she looked up, and grinned as she rolled her eyes.

His eyes pulsed with surprise then delight. "Rhebekka!"

They met in a fierce hug halfway up the stairs, Yugi mindful of the slight bulge in her stomach.

"You're up awfully early for a new bride," she whispered, teasing.

He pulled away, brows furrowed; his lips pulled into frown that didn't quiet meet his eyes.

"Why is it," he demanded, his fingers all but writhing, "that everyone seems to assume I've nothing better to do than lie about and wait for my husband, and when he is here that we've no more on our minds than jumping into bed with each other?"

Each word was a grumble punctured by Rhebekka's boisterous laugh.

"As a married woman, myself, I can name several reasons," she laughed and proceeded to do just that, even as Yugi's face flushed, red and horrified.

"For one," she counted on her finger, "if Timaeus and you are anything like my husband and I—and I believe you are—then you will never make love just once. And, as there is nothing more desirable in the world than the act when it is done right, it's also a damned bloody murder on the body—well, at least the first time. After that, well…" She snickered like a gossiping servant girl, whispering, "They call it the curse of women: they say that every time a man spills himself inside a woman, he's pouring a bit of his strength into her, so she becomes stronger while he feels as limp as a damp cloth!"

Genuine surprise robbed Yugi of his voice. Rhebekka exploded with laughter. "'Course, you know what I call it? Fair trade! All the pain they put us through that first time and when we have their bairns—this is the gods' way of evening the score!"

"What on earth has gotten into her?" Mai asked from atop the stairs, genuine surprise echoing in her voice. Yugi had to wonder if she'd ever seen Rhebekka laugh before.

Yugi spun to her, lips parted but unable to form sounds.

Rhebekka knew no such shame. "He asked me why we all assume he and Timaeus do nothing but roll about in bed. I told him about what the men call 'the curse of women'."

He spun back to her, astounded by the betrayal. Rhebekka's own laugher was joined by Mai's cream-curdling whoop of delight. "Oh, yes! That will do it!"

Even Serenity hid her smile behind her hands.

Yugi slumped against the staircase, defeated.

"Of course, there's also the matter that you've been married less than a month, and only had these past days to actually celebrate it, and you just finished up your Redemancy as well," Rhebekka explained, her tone still amused. "For another," this time, she grinned, "—well, I think the magister's told you this before—what you think is always written on your face."

"It is not!" Yugi snapped up, indignant, but there was no fight in the protest.

Serenity came up beside him, smiling in that sage, quiet way of hers. "You've done nothing but sigh since he's left."

Yugi sighed then. That was certainly true enough.

"There's no shame in it, darling," Mai assured, her long fingers curling comforting on his shoulder. "You'll find that's the curse of men: vexing and insufferable as their lot may be, once those husbands of ours worm their way into our hearts, they stick and they stay, and so whenever they're away, whatever we try, we always want them back."

The three women sighed, nodding in agreement.

"That's certainly true," Yugi mumbled, then turned to Rhebekka, changing the subject. "Are you and Mokuba back at the palazzo now?"

"Oh, aye!" she nodded, beaming. "He'll see to things while the Lord's away. He's been at it near three months, and we'll be staying here while he does. I'll be damned if I stay in that house alone after three months without a man's touch."

Yugi laughed. "You've a house in town?"

"Aye!" she nodded. "All of us do!"

"Some are closer to the palazzo than others," Mai interrupted. "A few servants have their rooms, but most live in the town. Come." Taking command, she ushered, "Let's go upstairs and we'll tell you all about it!"

X X X

Yugi spent much of his first day just like that.

They had migrated to a pale blue sitting room beneath the lunettes of a lovely maiden in spring and listened and laughed at Serenity's stories and Mai's choice of gossip. Then, they explained how the house staff had their own lodgings in town. Some came to work early while others came in the afternoon and worked late; the shifts ensured all of them had hours and pay and all had time with their families. When the time came, it would be Yugi's duty to create those schedules and Mai would show him how, and Rhebekka would help him with the sorting.

It felt so good to be in the company of women again—something he had deeply missed when his mother had died and duty called Mert home to Djuent; Maat, for all her discipline, had tried to give that to him, but her own duties called her away, and so he was left in the politely cold care of the House servants and hem-netjer. Here, however, the women were bold, lively and outspoken, and Yugi enjoyed such kindred spirits.

Serenity and Mai accepted Rhebekka as openly as they had him. Though he suspected that the women were already acquainted, he also suspected that, before his arrival, they had no reason to socialize beyond the business of running the palazzo. Now, as Yugi was their Mistress and Magistrate, their close circle had become as intimate in business as it was in friendship.

The second day, they explored beyond the rooms he shared with Timaeus and the Great Hall. Rhebekka showed him the upper rooms, reserved for business and hosting, Mai the servants' and staff quarters, and Serenity the music and dance room, but Yugi soon found himself bored with the venture. Palaces, it seemed, were still palaces all round: although the palazzo, with its vaulted ceilings, magnificent decoration and glass windows, was dramatically different from the mudbrick buildings, columned hallways and openness of the Kemet Great Houses, its beauty and history were lost to him after the initial awe, and Yugi found that the only real surprises were the ones he'd already learned from Timaeus.

Splendid as it all was, Yugi had no desire to be cooped up in another palace—not when Locri was just outside and a boat ride away. He wanted to explore the city, visit the shops, study the culture, meet the people, and see the great, floating city and its magnificent, mountainous west he'd heard about in the stories.

He made it not three feet from the boats, the girls at his heels, when someone caught him around the waist and hoisted him back.

Yugi blinked for a moment, still registering the sudden shift in position; he had been caught off guard and was more than frustrated by the act—another reminder of the sometimes-frightening intimacy of this place.

"I hope you weren't thinking of leaving the palazzo, Little Prince?" Yugi recognized the raucous voice and the playful way it scolded.

Yugi spun around and met familiar lilac eyes and a mouth that twisted and untwisted into its own secret sort of smile. "What am I saying? The Trierarch told you not to, so of course you plotted your escape."

"Malik?!" Yugi leapt into his arms and Malik caught him welcomingly.

"Didn't expect to see much of you today, lad," he grinned roguishly, his teeth showing. "Thought ya might be worn out."

Yugi's brows furrowed together; his smile dropped to a thin, neutral line but he swallowed his protests. "As your new magistrate," he said, straightening regally, "I would like to see my city and greet my people."

Malik met his smirk. "Well, Magistrate," he gave a flamboyant bow, "as your loyal guard, I am afraid that I must decline, for the Magister said that he wished for you to wait for his return before you do so."

"Aye, he did," Mai reminded.

Yugi snorted. "Then I suppose he asked you to protect me?"

"Ha! We both know you don't need protecting," Malik laughed. "He merely asked us to keep an eye on ya, lest you grow bored and decide to wander off without him."

Yugi was about to counter when he registered, "Us?"

"Aye, lad. 'Us'," came the cocky alto.

Yugi whirled around just as Otogi stepped off the pier.

Overcome, Yugi forgot himself and trapped the man in a fierce hug that he caught stumblingly but readily returned.

"How is your arm?" Yugi asked, immediately.

"Still healing," he confessed, rolling his bent arm in a small circle to demonstrate. "But functioning well, thanks to you."

He was rewarded with a bright smile; so open was their sweet, Little Prince, Otogi thought. Locri would suit him well.

Looking his friend over, Yugi couldn't help but ask, "Are you sure you're well?", noticing the tiredness that dulled his normally bright green eyes. "You look weary."

Otogi paled at the observation, all color vanishing from his face.

Malik snickered behind them, loud enough that Yugi barely heard him through the stifled laughter. "Your wife not too pleased to see ya, then, Otogi?"

At the Little Prince's bewilderment, Otogi grimaced and answered, "Aye, she was livid. I told her it was healing, but I doubted hearing it from the Iron Lady would've mollified her wrath when she saw it. I was almost glad the Trierarch summoned me."

Yugi and the girls giggled with what Otogi swore was conspiration, and sighed grimly. "That said," his voice softened, "I'm afraid we can't let you leave the palazzo, Little Prince. Magister's orders."

He and Malik both flinched when Yugi whirled on them, his face hard but his eyes laced with disappointment.

"Please don't link less of him for it," Malik mollified. "Locri's a maze of a city even for those of us raised here. You could take a wrong turn and be lost for year and think you've not left the same road."

"Aye, we like you well, Yugi," Otogi added, "but we trust his judgement, as should you."

Disappointment flashed across Yugi's face and left him as a heavy sigh.

A gentle hand squeezed his, and Serenity offered a serene smile. "It's only one more day," she comforted him. "Then you can see Locri together."

Yugi closed his eyes in thought for a moment, then nodded: Timaeus had asked him to wait for him. He glanced at Otogi and thought of his wife, of Mokuba, and everyone else's waiting patiently for their spouses without complaint.

Yes, he thought, he could wait one more day.

One more day.

His heart hammered with excitement.

X X X

In the morning, Yugi rose early, having barely slept. He was dressed in a clinging gown of pale blue that hugged his chest tightly; billowing sleeves of festoon lace made him look innocent, but the long slit revealed a shapely thigh and creamy legs. He'd chosen it purposefully.

Mai nodded in approval, as did the staff, if their wide-eyed glances and curious eyes were any indication. Serenity offered to style his hair, but Yugi was too eager to sit still.

He found Malik and Tristan conversing at the bottom of the steps. Surprise and awe widened their eyes when they saw him. Yugi grinned, explaining his plan.

Outside, it took all Yugi had to not to leap into the boat, his entourage behind him. Tristan was just about to untie the gondola when Mokuba leaped out the door.

"What the devils got ahold of you this morning?" Rhebekka asked, taking note of her husband's disheveled state. His unruly black hair was spilled out in a wild tangle with no effort to tie it back, his handsomely tanned face was pale and pasty with sweat, and his cheeks flared with exhaustion. He heaved several loud, heavy breaths before he was able to speak. "Magistrate, you—" he croaked out before a short coughing fit cut him off.

"Don't worry, Lord, he's not escaping," Malik grinned, guessing the man's comment.

"The magister returns today. His magistrate wishes to welcome him and asked us to accompany him."

Mokuba shook his head furiously. "It isn't that," he finally got out, composing himself. He pulled a rolled-up parchment from his belt. "You weren't in your room," was all he said as he held it out to Yugi, his face grim and green eyes shadowed and sunken. "It came this dawn."

He took it graciously, though worry wiggled at his heart like worms digging their way into a plump apple. He unraveled it, recognizing Timaeus' handwriting and his own name.

And swallowed a fierce, fiery scream of frustration.

X X X

"It could have been worse," Serenity mollified, squeezing Yugi's tight hands. "He could have been detained indefinitely."

Yugi sighed, slumping back in his chair, and rubbed his temples. The letter lay crushed in his lap. He fought hard not to glare at it.

He'd read it once, but still the words burned him. At least it was Timaeus' own hand, and angry as Yugi felt, he knew it was a matter far out of the man's control.

"Forgive me," he sighed again. "I know I should be flattered that Her Majesty, the Anassa, wishes to meet me personally. I truly am." How could he not be, when he'd heard nothing but good things about her—not just from Timaeus, himself, but Pas and Mert as well. She was Basileus Anax' Dartz's wife, after all: the man was well known as a fair and wise king, and his wife was no different. Timaeus spoke fondly of her strength, her kind heart, and of the good she did for her people.

And yet…when he closed his eyes, it was Cristina's face he saw, disappointed and disapproving. Not to mention that she was the princess, the queen her mother, and it was women who decided marriages and offered sound judgement. Would she accept him soundly and give him time to prove himself as her husband had? Or would she see an interloper who took a good man from her daughter and Atlantis a worthy king?

His long fingers opened and spread in frustration.

"It's perfectly fine to be furious," came the curt response.

Yugi shot up. Rhebekka stole a plump herb and cheese biscuit and devoured it in two bites, then set her sights on the bowls of berries and fruits, the fried fish fingers, and one of the soft-boiled eggs. "I'd be just as vexed and angry as you are now if Mokuba had been kept from me longer than planned, regardless of the reason."

"I'm angry for you," Mai agreed, anger humming around. "Men. We do right by them, and yet we are always the ones left waiting." She seethed inside as a flush of frustrated acceptance crept up her neck to color her cheeks. She set down her tea and slumped with a heavy sigh, as if exhausted from the mild outburst, and a frosty smile tugged at her lips. "And they wonder as to why we're so easily vexed."

A round of laughter followed, just as joyous as it was ironic; even Yugi found himself snickering. His eyes fell on the letter in his hand and his mind wandered to the quick urgency of the writing and the ill lettering of it. He imagined the desperation in which Timaeus must've sent it—the haste, the determination, the sheer desire to let his lover know that he had not forgotten him. And at the bottom of it, signed ever so carefully and ever so sweetly—as if to capture what his voice could not vocalize—he'd written: I love you.

It had touched him and comforted him, more than Timaeus could ever know.

He rose suddenly. "Let us visit the city."

They froze. Blinked.

His eyes sparkled with determination and hidden laughter. "This is my city now, just as much as it is the magister's. We don't have to go far, but we should do something other than sit around waiting, shouldn't we?"

"Agreed!" Rhebekka leapt to her feet, then suddenly moaned as if she'd been hit. Mai and Serenity leaped into action like a pair of trained hunting dogs, catching her as she stumbled and helping her sit.

Yugi rushed to her side. "Are you alright?" he croaked, his throat dry with fear.

"I'm fine!" she snapped as she tried to stand, clenched her stomach, and dropped into her chair. "Damnit! Lousy brat!" she chided her stomach. "What's wrong with ya?!"

"Stop," Mai commanded sharply, placing one hand over the barely-visible bulge and using the other to rub and press lightly. Rhebekka moaned with relief.

"How did you do that?" Yugi asked, his voice echoing with shock.

"One does not become a mother of four children without learning a few tricks," she boasted proudly.

When Rhebekka relaxed, Mai looked at her firmly though her voice was gentle "The pain may be the result of exertion. Have you done anything…strenuous, these past days, First Lady?" she asked with an undertone of discretion.

Rhebekka straightened, ruffled like an agitated peacock. "What I do with my husband is no one's business but my own!" she snapped boldly, completely shameless.

With a sanctioned nod, Mai continued. "Just so, since you're early in your carrying when the babe is the most fragile. Too much activity will weigh heavily on your body and harm the bairn. It's best not to risk it."

Rhebekka's eyes flashed—fear, frustration, rage, worry, and heartbreaking love all conflicting at once. She pressed her hands to her stomach, slumped back in her chair, and sighed.

"Fine," she relented and, in frosty silence, allowed them to help her up. "But I'll be damned if I stay idle the whole time!"

"Worry not, Rhebekka," Yugi assured her, that bright smile she loved warming her. "I'll make sure you stay entertained."

He smiled when her lips curled upward, all thoughts of leaving the palazzo forgotten.

X X X

The next day, Yugi's boredom had reached its zenith: bedridden by the babe, Rhebekka spent the day in a corpse-like slumber, both her friend and husband checking her frequently. Mai returned to overseeing the staffing and the maids and left Yugi with records he knew he should be looking over but had neither the patience nor the energy to do so, and Serenity was in town with the other musicians and singers to prepare for the queen's arrival, leaving Yugi to stay behind only because of the Trierarch's request. Though they loved their little prince fiercely, Malik, Ryou, and Otogi took their new duty as Yugi's guards very seriously: none of them had been cruel or oppressive about it, but Yugi could only explore the garden grounds and the house so many times alone before his new home lost its luster. Even the secret garden where he lounged now felt empty and lonely when faced with the fact that Timaeus wasn't there.

Yugi sighed in resigned boredom. Lazily, he slouched to the smooth stones and folded his arms over the wide, stone alfresco. The view overlooked the grassy plains and winding loops of the blue-green rivers like the body of some massive snake slithering down the mountain side.

Leaning closer, Yugi saw the city spread out before him. Like a magnificently detailed wall painting, the city spread out below the waterfall. Branching streams wiggled, serpentine and narrow, through the maze of houses and city streets; the canals were flanked by tall houses and buildings and grew from the mountainside, following rivers and boardwalks straight down to the water. Pops of garden colors and greens peeked out of rooftop gardens, spicing the air with the sweet, pungent smell of flowers and late spring, and the treetops echoed with melodious birdsongs, the ratting hisses of cicadas, and the rumbling gush of the waterfall.

Though dawn was only hours old, the city vibrated with activity: shops and food stands were opening up as children played about in the streets; floods of people and merchants were migrating goods from the harbor as vendors were setting up their wares; all the gondolas were active and moving, transporting passengers to different parts of the city through the labyrinth of canals and water ways; and even the birds and beasts were busy gathering food, singing songs and training their young.

And he was missing it! Yugi slumped miserably.

The low hum of music pierced the air; an odd mixture of pipes, strings, voices and laughter flickered here and there as though blown in by the wind. It perked his ears, grabbed his heart and reinvigorated his spirit of defiance.

"That's it!" Yugi declared boldly and leapt to his feet. "I'm seeing this city!"

Decision made him dash for the garden door. Then, he stopped, rationality halting him: Otogi was still patrolling the halls and Malik was still outside, ever-dutifully keeping any danger out and—more importantly, he suspected—keeping Yugi himself in. Even the passageways secret to all but Timaeus and himself only led to the baths, the garden, and the upper rooms and lower Great Hall. Timaeus had yet to show him a secret exit that led to the city.

The only way was to board a gondola, but even if he slipped passed Otogi, Malik guarded the jetty—and regardless, without a Ferryman, Yugi had no means nor knowledge of steering the boat himself.

Long fingers threaded his trademark Ramses red and Kemet black curls, his golden bangs a beacon for anyone, and clenched in frustration.

A low laughter echoed in his ear, sparking him to attention; upon closer inspection, Yugi relaxed. The morning servants stepped out of the large gondola and onto the jetty, their bright, bold colors a sharp contrast to the simple white shenti and pleated skirts of the Kemet commonfolk. Some women wore sleeveless gowns, others wore halters bunched beneath colored chockers, and kitchen hands wore tunics and leggings for quick movements and protection. Many wore slippers, others boots, while the rest wore cloaks and hoods to combat the crisp, spring chill.

Inspiration sparked an idea.

Rushing down the stairs, Yugi threw open his chests and closets, fishing through finely-embroidered long dresses and a variety of attachable sleeves until he found what he was looking for. Freeing it from the chest, he held it up for inspection and smirked: it was a simple evening dress, sleek and smooth with teal ribbon lacings and embroidered with blue and green about the short sleeves and hem.

A smirk crossing his lips, he quickly undid the ribbons and tied the gauzy silver sleeves to the hems.

Now, he had a plan.

X X X

The upstairs was unusually quiet, Otogi noted, gazing up from the base of the Great Hall steps. It unnerved him: the little prince was many things, but obedient was not one of them. The trierarch and magister had been wise to ask him and his comrades to patrol the area, expecting an escape: Yugi had been patient, of course, and could be when it was called for, but in the wake of his restless boredom—and doubtless his missing of the Magister—it could only last so long.

It was one of the many things they'd grown to adore about him. His playful defiance, his bold nature, his humble honesty, the way he loved with his whole heart—it put him to shame remembering a time he hadn't thought it so.

The joint of his shoulder ached suddenly as if to scold him. He shuddered, sighed, and rubbed his face before trying a few of the stretches the little prince had shown him. Though no longer painful, the junction was still sore; he'd been warned that it would be, but it had healed nicely. He could manage it, he decided, reminding himself with a weary, terrified shudder what could've been if he'd lost it. He owed the little prince his loyalty for that alone, especially since he, himself, had done nothing to deserve such kindness.

He shook his head, ridding himself of the unpleasant thoughts. No, that was in the past, now; the Little Prince had forgiven him and his comrades, and they, him. He was their magistrate now and he and the magister were happy, and it was all they could ask for.

Well, almost.

His own wee wife was still steaming. Just as he'd feared, she'd been in a right fit when he'd come home after nearly half a year, arm in a sling, and all but demanded an explanation. Too fearful—and ashamed—he'd managed to explain it was the result of an accident in which he'd been arguing with the lord's new magistrate during a violent wind storm and a fallen beam had injured his arm. Of course, he'd failed to mention it was he who aroused the argument and had neglected to take the young magistrate's advice when the wind became too rough, and his good wife, for all her love and loyalty, had furiously assumed the whole debacle to be the magistrate's fault and nothing he said could calm her down.

Difficult breed, women—and his was a great Leviathan. Then again, hadn't he not loved her because of that? For all her temper and barbs, she was loving and loyal, her rage born simply from the fact that he'd been hurt. If anything, he loved her more for it,

Still…he refused to let her near the palazzo until she'd calmed down enough for him to explain things properly. She'd forgive him if he'd simply forgotten some details out of shame, but she'd never forgive him if, because of it, he'd let her insult the magister's new wife.

His eyes wandered once again to the top of the stairs, the entrances to the magister and magistrate's apartments remaining closed and quiet—not even the seamstress and the quartermaster could be heard above the stairs.

He pondered checking, then decided against it. No, the little prince was not a child, and it would do him no favors having him or any of his comrades treating him like one. True, the magister had asked him to stay at the palazzo until his return, but that did not mean the lad had done nothing. Already, Mai and the quartermaster were teaching him the workings of the estate; it would not be long until he was doing it himself.

Good thing, too, Otogi smiled: the people would be curious of their new magistrate. True enough, they were delighted that their Trierarch returned home with a bride, but once the nostalgia of a royal wedding wore down, there would be questions, curiosities, concerns. And the biggest one would doubtless be why Timaeus chose him over their precious princess.

The princess was well-loved in the hearts and minds of the Locrian people; the little prince's new position did not diminish that, but it did open some questions. The already short-of-patience cook was snapping as to what his staff was expected to do with a still-green mistress.

Otogi snorted and shook his head with a wry smile. Oh, how that woman loved to complain—and worse, gossip. Whatever the opinion was, he had no doubt the whole house would know and copy it before long. A show of spirit was all they needed—another example of courage and kindness, or at least of strategy and wit, and the palazzo would be his. Word would no doubt be spread by the end of the day, and the whole country would know what a wise choice their Lord made.

Of course, now, the problem was how the little prince was to do that when he was currently upstairs moping.

A click of a door and a ruffle of skirts caused him to glance over his shoulder; the doors upstairs remained closed and empty. He glanced around, seeing a servant slip out into the hallway. He turned away, but paused, something about the image sticking in his mind.

She a small wisp of a thing—not unusual—sporting a grey dress with blue and green embroidery in a triangular pattern about the sleeves and hems. It was certainly lovely, but that didn't surprise him either: the magister paid well in wages, and trade was one of Locri's main exports. It was short-sleeved—as was appropriate for common folk in the house of the lord—and a soft, silver hood concealed her head and hair. Now those were not usually worn indoors, but he supposed the breeze outside was strong and a bit cool.

He watched her as she slipped into the Great Hall, looking around skittishly.

His eyes caught her again and his brows arched. The dress was laced up on the back and about the sleeves, but the ribbons were lazy and loose; even worse, there were leaves and grass bits hanging onto it. If he had to guess, it looked like the lass had stripped in the gardens and rushed to dress—not unheard of, but...there was something else.

And then he saw them: the ribbons on the sleeves, the embroidery hem, the vacant loops meant for attachable sleeves.

Otogi nearly burst with laughter. Instead, he flashed a beaming smile and called out, "Hold there, Miss!"

He swallowed a laugh when the fugitive leaped up in shock and spun around, hand rushing to clench and pull down the hood, but Otogi caught the glimpse of golden bangs, of honey-gold skin and the deepest night-blue eyes.

"Running late, are we?" he chuckled and gave her a conspiratorial wink. "Don't worry, I won't tell the cook: she'd have your head. But first, we must fix you up."

He started to brush the leaves and grass from the dress and hood, biting back a laugh when those bright blue eyes looked up, big and blank with confusion, and then looked down, bulging with realization. Swatting at his hands, the interloper immediately began pulling out leaves and twigs.

Otogi shook his head, chuckling and again offering his help. "Look at you, Miss. Leaves on your dress, twigs in your hood, and your lacings are a mess! Turn around and I'll tighten them for ya." After a moment's skepticism, he smiled when the lad turned around and allowed him to fix the mess—impossible to do on one's own.

"What were you doing? Rolling about with the gardener's son in the vegetable patch?" he laughed—more like 'tried to slip out the sides and hid to avoid Malik'. "You should be ashamed! There, that's the last of them." He sent him off with a quick swat to the back. "Off to the kitchens with you. Cook'll be expecting you, and I'm sure there's plenty ripe in the garden ready to be picked."

Seeing the twinkle in those eyes, Otogi smiled at the grateful bow of the head and watched him scurry off.

He'd let the little prince have his fun.

And then make sure he came back in.

The little prince is a devious thing isnt he? ;)

As i said this chapter got away from me...the only one i actually had prewritten and didn't require much edit work was actually the dress scene...the others were originally meant to be background transition with a jump straight into Yugi

s escape and the next chapter, but as i started writing out the sentence, I discovered a lot of potential for some pretty awesome scenes playing on the theme of relationships (between women, lovers, and husbands and wives) as well as the theme of self discovery and they were honestly very fun and enjoyable to write-and it was a BLAST bringing Rhebekka back, i never realized how much I missed her dry wit.

Otogi's pov was also fun given we haven't seen it since the ship or him since the wedding procession s0 it was fun to bring him and some of my favorite secondary characters back.

So it's offically finalized this story will have 70 chapters (it was originally going to be 69 with a bonus chapter in the original but i decided to scrap that idea) and you'll see the reason WHY ;) though there was a HUGE Hiint in Otogi's section.

Rest assured THIS next chapter is already in the works and if all goes well i'll have it finished by the weekend

NEXT TIME: A new secret side of the Palazzo is revealed. A new voice makes an appearance and a new face may bring about some unexpected but not unwelcome surprises...and one terrible one.