Chapter 12:
Down in the depths of the Candy Palace, the Princess of the Underworld sat going over her tax filings with a fine-tooth comb. It was ironic, in its way. She, who was breaking every law in the book, was working on her taxes and worrying that she'd fail to make everything work out. It was necessary work, though. She had defended several members of the Candy Kingdom mafia from tax-evasion charges from time to time. That was how she had come to be so involved with them in the first place.
Bonnie was known to go after her little citizens when they got out of pocket. Going after tax-filings had become a go-to against the kingdom's few real criminals. Given that she was now in hock with the nasty little tyrant, Cherry would scarcely have put it past Bonnie to go after her for her more creative tax filings. It would suit Bonnie's hunger to punish anyone who wronged her to jail a fellow princess for tax-evasion. Fortunately, the crime-lord had long ago learned the best ways to work around the system. All her money was 'earned' in other kingdoms. It was earned outside of the Candy Kingdom on 'investments' and then 'repatriated' to pay the taxes.
A little bit of noise from outside her door alerted the little gangster that she had a visitor. Reaching under the desk, she fingered the sawed-off candy-cane concealed there, as she consulted the monitor in the corner to see who had come calling. The little woman frowned at the sight of Breakfast fidgeting at her door before finally seeming to come to the decision to knock. "Come," Cherry announced. The nervous ninny almost jumped back from the door, causing the evil beauty to roll her eyes in disgust.
Timidly, the fallen princess edged in around the door, looking terrified. "Mrs. Mertens," Cherry greeted her in her typical sardonic tones. Breakfast glanced down, then back up. "Look," she said. "I... I'm sorry... I..." "Sorry for what," Cherry replied? The breakfast-person's expression said it all. Cherry made her say it. "I fucked up," Breakfast babbled. "I... I got Finn hurt..." "You do realize who our husband is, right," Cherry interrupted? The fallen princess stared at her.
Sitting back in her chair, the gangster said, "a man who was known to me shoved a pistol in my face at the bargaining table. I barely had time to realize that I was about to die. Finn cut his hand off at the wrist and shot his friends with the gun he'd been holding. Over me. A dirty gangster. That's the kind of man he is. It's reflexive. He doesn't have a choice, Mrs. Mertens." Breakfast glanced away.
One breath, two. "I feel as if he wouldn't have been there if he hadn't been trying to cheer me up," she murmured. "As if that's a bad thing," Cherry retorted. "Call it the perversity of fate. Call it Glob punishing good deeds again. The bottom line is that nothing's being helped by you being down here. I have taxes to do, and I'm sure you have work as well." Breakfast sighed heavily. Shaking her head, she turned and headed out. She did have work to do. She'd hoped to clear the air, and in most ways they had. Still, she could tell she wasn't welcome. It was time to go.
Upstairs, Finn sat on the exam table in the infirmary taking long, deep breaths. Drusilla Princess-Mertens stood beside him with her stethoscope pressed into his back, listening. As the older woman listened, Finn did his best to obey her every command. He was in hock, and he wanted to get back to some semblance of normal with her. She'd been a little strange when he came in. It wasn't anger. It wasn't even the painful fear that she'd greeted him with when he woke up. Something was different, and he wasn't sure what to do about it.
As his mind was wearing its way around that track for the fifteenth time, Sarah came bustling in with a box under one arm. "Babe," he greeted her. "What's in the box?" Sarah's eyes were on her co-spouse. "Just finishing up," Drew declared. "What's in the box?" Sarah set it down, saying, "a solution." Now she had both of them curious. As Drew put her instruments away, Finn reached for the cardboard container, asking, "what's in the box?" Sarah pushed his hand away, and then did it again when he corrected his aim and grabbed for her ass instead.
Fionna came in just then. "Daddy," she announced. "What's in the box?" "Not sure," Finn replied. Squeezing Sarah's ass, he said, "she called it a solution." "Glad to see you out of bed, daddy," said the Bad Bunny, as she hugged him and kissed his cheek. "Glad to be out of bed," Finn replied. The room got a little crowded as Bonnie walked in. "Sarah," she burbled. "I've been looking for you." "Been busy," the android-woman replied. "Working on the burned up top-soil... And checking up on problem-girl. If I start to act too much like you, it's likely because she's reprogramming me to replace you." Which was funny on its face when Sarah had all Bonnie's mannerisms already. "What's in the box," Bonnie asked?
Ignoring the question–and with a little eye-roll–Sarah turned and began washing the stub of Finn's arm with a thick, foamy lather. As the others in the room watched, the android-girl shaved his arm clean of hair before washing his stump. For Fionna, it was a jarring reminder that the Grass-Sword–the long-lived curse that had become part of him–was gone. Her daddy wasn't the same anymore. Just like her.
Now Sarah turned, opened the box, and drew out a shiny silver arm. Bonnie gasped, and her eyes narrowed. Sarah's eyes flicked to hers, then, almost defiantly, she pressed the cup of the mechanical arm around Finn's stump. In short order, without any effort at all, the arm began clicking and whirring. Finn held it up to the light, flexing the fingers to see the minute workings move. "That'll get dirty," Drew complained. She immediately went reaching for some gauze, and she wrapped the length of the arm up tight as she could, leaving only the hand uncovered. "There," she said. "That'll keep the dirt out until we get you some kind of covering." Turning to her co-spouse, the tall doctor thanked her, saying, "that's excellent, Sarah. I'm amazed you found the time." The android-girl flushed to her sticky, pink hair.
Reaching out, Finn stroked Sarah's cheek, and added a heartfelt thanks of his own. Grabbing her by the waist, he pulled her in tight, saying, "need both arms for the life I have." And he pulled Drew in tight against him too for good measure. Drew twisted his ear affectionately, as Sarah pulled free to retrieve the box. Bonnie hesitated not a moment before following the love-doll out the door. Out in the hall, Sarah turned to her beautiful creator and lover and said, "it belonged to him, and it was already calibrated with the appropriate brain-wave patterns. Or did you really want to take the time to build a new one."
Bonnie shut her mouth on the complaints she would have raised. Handing her the box, the android turned to go, saying, "the room is being misused. I think you should seal it. Permanently." When Bonnie glanced down, she found a bunch of Shoko's things inside. Glancing up, she said, "we need to talk. Soon." Sarah acknowledged that with a nod, but she never stopped walking. Bonnie sighed. Her creation was getting just as emotionally messed up as she herself was. So much for blind, machine logic.
On the far side of town at the Candy Clinic, Doctor Brulee awoke to the scent of a beautiful woman and an immediate sense of guilt. He'd sinned. He'd slept with a patient. He couldn't even tell you how this happened. He'd been laughing with his pretty patient. He'd laughed with her and found himself tempted when she asked him to dinner. Step by step, she'd cajoled him and led him on until he'd ended up here in her apartment. The doctor felt all of a fool. He was supposed to be treating this woman for the serial abuses she'd suffered at the hands of intimate partners. And here he was, doing much the same thing.
Chelsea stroked his chest with a finger and murmured, "do you really have to go?" The doctor flushed to his hair. "Uh... I... uh... I'm supposed to be seeing a patient...," he babbled. "Couldn't you put him off," she asked? The doctor's blush deepened. He certainly dared not bail on the King! Frowning at him as if she could read his mind, she murmured, "Patient 1, huh?" The doctor found himself wondering who was the psychologist. "I shouldn't delay for any of my patients," he replied, "but certainly it isn't good to stand up an important man." He shouldn't have told her about that. He shouldn't be telling people who he was treating. Somehow that had just come out. With a heavy sigh, he told her, "I have to go." With a teasing smile, she said, "you can take me to brunch tomorrow afternoon..." Not wanting to be like all the other jerks who'd hurt her, he quickly agreed.
Meanwhile, in the Grey Forest, Patrick Petrikov knelt by the side of a blood-soaked bed staring at the carnage that had been a party-bear. He was once again feeling his inadequacies. This was a job for Billy. Billy was the family's other great detective. He'd gotten sent out here because Fi was laid up in bed, recovering from giving birth to their daughter. He was here because Billy was sitting on the throne–occupying it–while his dad was laid up in the hospital. It felt a lot like he was the third-stringer, and he was having a lot of trouble dealing with that.
"Anything," Valerie Augustine demanded? This was her assistant! Her assistant, who'd been missing for days, was laying on the floor of some donk's apartment with an arrow in the back of her head. "There was passion behind this," Patrick muttered. "Somebody was really pissed at this guy. He's been stabbed a bajillion fucking times..." He remembered that from an old book of his dad's. You had to be pretty pissed off at somebody to stab them up like this, with wounds criss-crossing wounds. The former party-bear was a bloody shambles. Glancing at the girl, he asked, "she have any boyfriends?"
Val frowned at him. "Anybody who'd be annoyed that she was bangin' some random spank," Patrick insisted? With a heavy sigh, the wood-nymph cutie admitted, "she's married. She... she shouldn't have even been here. Her husband's one of our hunters." Roger was out on a long mission scaring up food for the forest. "He's skilled with a bow," Patrick muttered. He was getting more comfortable with this. "Think you need to go get him," he said, as he rose to his feet one more. Dusting his pants off, the wizard headed out. Valerie was left with the mess.
She'd liked Roger. She could understand why he'd do this little bitch in. Darcy had been a habitual cheater. She was sweetness and spice when he was home. The minute he put on his gear and headed out to work, she was down in the bars, trolling around looking for a mark–somebody to pay her for a little pussy. It had been like a game for the little bitch to cheat on her husband. Now Darcy's philandering was costing them both their lives. The Matriarch's laws were clear. Murder a nymph, take a short drop through a trap.
The young hero went outside past the landlady, shaking his head as he went. He felt inadequate for this. He felt like a fuckup, especially after his failure in the bandit kingdoms. There were moments where his mind went back to Cerilia and what she was going through. He felt awful about that–like he'd taken advantage–even though she was the one to start things. Even having Fi sweep the whole thing under the rug was doing little to help the guilt. He felt like he didn't deserve her. He wanted to wallow in his guilt for a bit, but there was an open section of the wall to patrol, and he was already late.
The Lawkeeper's assistant came out of the apartment. "What do I do with him," she asked? With a shrug, Patrick told her, "call his people... Tell them to come and get him." Part of him didn't really care. This guy was a piece of shit who was banging some other dude's wife. As far as Patrick was concerned, he sort of deserved to be laying there with his guts stabbed out. Without a further word, he stepped off, bound for the army camp, leaving the wood-nymph staring after him in puzzlement.
Back in the Candy Kingdom, the King of Ooo stood in the infirmary getting himself dressed with Lollipop's help. An agitated Drew stood at the door watching. She'd come in during the middle of the business and just stood there, staring. Finally, after a seeming eternity, the tall woman worked up the courage to speak, asking, "I... where are you going?" "Counseling," Finn replied. "I've missed a couple of sessions already." Her expression changed, showing confusion, but Finn was moving on. As Lollipop tied up his tie, the big man turned to his wife and said, "need a sling or something. I'm having trouble controlling this thing. It doesn't work quite right..." It took a moment, as Drew stood there staring at him. When Lollipop cleared her throat, the tall woman turned and rushed across the room, returning moments later with a sling.
As she carefully fit his arm into the sling, she said, "I guess I thought you'd be going back to work." "Billy's covering," Finn replied, which she well knew. Her husband was almost always agitating to get back in the saddle as soon as he could get there. His voice was utterly calm–no angst or worry at all. "I need to work through these problems," he said. "My family needs me to work through these problems." Her face snapped up to his, but Finn wasn't paying attention. "I'm borrowing the Morrow Too," he said. "That'll let me and Stan get over to the clinic and back before tonight." As soon as the sling was cinched up, the big man kissed her cheek and got on his way, leaving the tall doctor staring at him.
Lollipop interrupted her staring with a cough. When Drew turned to face her, the skinny girl said, "you missed your fitting. I have just enough time to get you in this afternoon. Be at my office at two. Or else." With a jaunty wave, the former model turned and headed out, bound for her office on the second floor. There were still three gowns to get done besides the one for Drew.
Miles away, two unsavory characters sat in an expensive–and borrowed–limousine, waiting their turn in the endless traffic snarl that had sprung up in the city the last few days. Many of the streets were blocked off entirely. Even the locals had to go through checkpoints to access the city-center. Fedir had never seen the like, but then this was the wedding of the century.
The thug glanced around uneasily at all the security. The Candy Capitol was over-run with soldiers. There were men of every variation on nearly every corner. They were patrolling, and they were manning checkpoints, and even just standing around watching. It was a jarring sight for a man who'd walked small and done his dirt in silence in the wilderness for most of his life. He'd only lately come to the more civilized lands of the west, and he might well have wished to go back home again. Not that the murderess in the back seat of the carriage would have accepted that.
The little woman was staring around her, her expression haunted. The mood was thick on her today, and it had already cost one of his men a scarred and injured face. The nasty little creature had slashed his cheek with a letter-opener. If she'd had the poison on her nails, the man might well be dead. It was an ugly sign that Fedir was on borrowed time just now. Whispers among the ranks suggested that his replacement was waiting in the wings for him to fall on his sword over some foolishness or other. Men in this spot never lasted all that long.
"My brother once ruled this place," she murmured. It was out of the blue, just like always. She revealed little tidbits about herself like this. It would have been a weapon if she were somebody he dared cross. Fedir said nothing to that. He wasn't supposed to. Talking too much could get you butchered. He kept his eyes on the traffic and the hostile soldiers. "It was the perfect setup," she said. "He walked right in. They were happy to be rid of candy-bitch." Nodding absently, Fedir eased into a slot in the long line of traffic headed for the center of the city.
"They burned him," the Wax-Hustler muttered. "That fucking Finn burned my brother alive. She told him to do it." Fedir edged up a little more. They were almost at the checkpoint. He wished the little madwoman would shut her fucking mouth. He would have to roll the window down. If she kept talking about crazy shit, they were going to get caught. She was still blabbing when they pulled into the checkpoint though, and Fedir prepared to jump from the car and run–just in case.
The battle-scarred banana knocked on the window with his left hand, his right hovering on a dart-pistol. Fedir was all smiles as he opened the window. Thankfully, the murderous little bitch shut her mouth on the crazy spilling out. Fedir handed the guard their identification and passes. She had the right to be here. She was providing the entertainment after all. Kim Kil Wan had arranged everything–for a cut of the proceeds. The gullible ass thought he was going to be making bank on the Royal Wedding. Fedir waited patiently, and even popped the trunk open. They had nothing to hide. Kim had already smuggled the weapons inside the perimeter without even knowing it.
"Thank you for listening," murmured Chelsea as the car rolled in through the checkpoint. Fedir nodded. He was all smiles in spite of his terror. He was caught between a rock and a hard place. Either this woman or her enemies were going to kill him. Focusing on the job at hand instead of his terror, he wove his way through the much lighter traffic inside the checkpoint, bound for the Opera's temporary digs in the Royal Theater. All the Royal Wedding Guests were attending the Opera tonight. The nasty little witch had been delighted. He'd found her contemplating mass-murder a time or two. She'd toyed with the idea of having the few men she had try to lock the door while she burned the theater to the ground.
A hard, ugly reality had crushed the idea. Finn and his family would escape. The Ice-Queen could quench the fire and let them all escape. She'd give up her chance to make Bonnibel Bubblegum pay–and maybe lose her own life. That realization had led to the ugly outburst earlier. She'd been dreadfully disappointed. She was close enough to Finn and his family to reach out and touch them, but that touching would be meaningless. Tonight would be about reconnaissance. Nothing more.
A little calmer now, Fedir steered the car through the light traffic of the city center, heedful of the need to appear non-threatening. The patrols were no more relaxed now than they had been outside. That was the new Captain of the Guard's work, and it was one of the reasons Fedir had been subtly working to steer this woman away from doing something particularly stupid to get them caught. However much she might hate the Mertens clan, they had the power now, and Finn the Human had made it clear just what was going to happen to anybody who dared touch one of them.
Rolling up to the entry of the opera house, the thug hustled to get out of the car and get the door opened for his master. Nobody was driving into the parking garage today. That was strictly for the Theater's very important guests. "I'll be a moment," said Fedir, as he settled the witch's wrap around her slim shoulders. He had to get the car parked, and he'd be walking back. Reaching up, the evil woman stroked his face as if he was her lover–an act that sent shivers down his spine, as he thought of her habit of wearing sharpened nail-extensions with venomous polish.
On the far side of town, Finn the Human settled onto Dr. Brulee's couch, stretching his legs out. "I confess, I assumed you'd still be in the hospital," the good doctor opined. Finn shrugged. He had to get back on his feet. This was part of the deal. He needed to be straight in his mind, and he now found himself with more reasons than before to go along with this. His ladies needed him to be squared away.
As the doctor gathered up his notebook, the big man got right to business, announcing, "I've been trying to take your advice. I'm trying to get used to this life." "Why just trying," asked the doctor? "There's a tremendous amount of good that you can do for others as well as yourself." Finn frowned a moment. It was the strangely pensive frown that the doctor had become used to. "Something wrong," he asked? "No," Finn replied. "Just... you're sort of sounding like my wives..." As the doctor listened, he laid out some of the things they'd asked of him–things he'd long ago considered out-of-bounds.
Dr. Brulee chuckled, "not many men would be bothered if their wives let them sleep with other women. Yours even encourages you to impregnate them. What can be wrong with that, Mr. Mertens? If this Riley is pleased, why not? You're doing her a turn since she and her companion can't have a child of their own." "Things are never that simple, doc," Finn replied. Gesturing in his usual animated way, the big man laid out all the things that could go wrong–from Riley and Teri having family troubles to people wanting to harm them because of Finn. He sometimes wanted to be exasperated with the girls because they just didn't seem to see the risks.
"Maybe you need to stop focusing on the risks," the doctor told him. Finn frowned at him. Nodding, the breakfast-person said, "you're focusing on the risks as if those are the only things that matter in the world, Mr. Mertens. But it's a risk even getting out of bed in the morning! You could slip and break your neck in the shower! Those two women need this, and only a man can give it to them. They did so much for you, by your own admission." Finn sighed. They were his friends. He'd long ago set in his mind that, whenever he had a chance to ride high, his friends were coming along with him, and he'd striven to keep that promise his whole life.
"Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, Mr. Mertens," said the doctor. "Sometimes a gift is just a gift and not a life-threatening event." Finn nodded uneasily. He could see the doctor's point. He just had the ugly feeling that there was a rather nasty shoe waiting to drop.
As the King of Ooo confronted his own burgeoning paranoia, one of his ladies returned to the castle she'd most recently conquered with the strange young maiden she'd been almost gifted by her stepson. The elemental woman was in something of a funke. She'd been quiet almost since they left the little village below the castle. "You're bothered by something," Ingrid announced. "What is it?" Olesia sighed. She didn't have William's poker-face, and it appeared she'd now be explaining herself once again to this woman. "I don't like to see people staring at me that way," she muttered, "like I'm a ravenous monster..." "You're powerful," Ingrid responded in airy tones.
Olesia glared at her. "If that was meant to help...," she muttered. With an airy wave of her hand, the Warrior Princess interrupted, "you have much to learn about power. You can't be loved when you have power. Poor people and the powerless seek love. The powerful seek respect. When you're powerful, seeking love gets used as leverage." "You have an ugly world view," Olesia muttered. "I'm a princess," Ingrid retorted. "It comes with the job." As they passed under the castle's murder holes, the tall woman asked, "did you make a dress for the wedding?" Olesia flushed and glanced away. That was almost as sore a subject as having people stare at her in terror.
The tall woman was watching her when the plump girl glanced in her direction. "I'm not going," she murmured. "It's... This is an occasion for people more important than I." "Nonsense," said Ingrid. "As one of my officers and a member of the Royal Entourage, I expect you to be there. That is unless you wish to be discharged..." Olesia stared at her. At the same time, the only thing she had waiting on her at home was a life of emptiness. Here she was useful. "Ok," she said. Ingrid rode off, announcing, "I'll expect you to be ready to leave in the morning."
Finn spent much of the afternoon working out his problems with Dr. Brulee. Then, climbing into the back of the Morrow Too once more, the big man rode back to the secured city-center for the big deal of the day. His wives had been working on the arrangements almost from the moment that the agreement was made. Simone worked the invitations. Betty worked out who would be sitting with who. Lollipop worked to make sure that every person in the family would be dressed to the nines and looking their best.
It was Breakfast who ended up with the job of entertaining the horde of Royal Guests who were coming. She'd found herself working out a week-long entertainment schedule to occupy her irritating former colleagues for the entire time they'd be here. Bonnie wanted them too busy to get up to the sort of scheming and ugly shenanigans they got into when unoccupied. Fortunately, a prominent businessman from the Candy Kingdom had shown up with a string of proposals including an imported opera. Arriving at home, Finn quickly washed and struggled into a tuxedo for the occasion. Then, with Simone, Emeraude, and Betty by his side, the King headed out to the limo for the trip to the theater.
They were joined in the car by first a very uncomfortable Billy and then the Princess Dowager and her grand-daughter. Nieve was dressed in a demur blue gown instead of the ugly leotard that Yolanda often wore. Her grandmother was dressed in a conservative formal gown in grey silk that matched her status in life. As the limo rolled out, Finn opened the evening with a bottle of kumis from Ragnhild's homeland. It was a pointed reminder that Nieve was marrying into something. As Simone helped her husband pour, Odessa graciously accepted her glass. And Nieve squirmed. It was clear to Finn that if Odessa was happy with circumstances, her grand-daughter was far from thrilled.
The party made polite, if strained, small talk even as the limo rolled into the garage under the theater. Finn's verbal sparring with Odessa dominated the conversation. She was all about the power her family stood to get. Betty, Simone, and Emeraude kept her on her toes with their often pointed comments. The high-stakes conversation continued as the two families made the trip up to the Royal Box and almost up to the opening of the opera. Billy and Nieve were mostly in the background as they took the turns and climbed the stairs while the King sparred with the Princess Dowager. Still, it was Odessa who shut the whole business down as the opera opened.
Polite to the last, the Princess Dowager put aside business for the small pleasures of the evening. The title of the piece was Un Ballo in Maschera. An excited Odessa explained the story in whispers as Finn watched the show unfold. A far less enthusiastic Betty sat frowning at the image of a handsome blonde king being assassinated at a masquerade ball. Her frowning expression was so severe that Simone had to comment on it during intermission.
"Un Ballo in Maschera is based on the real life assassination of King Gustav III," Betty murmured. The trio were standing across the room from the refreshments, watching Finn as he chatted with Cherry and Strudel. Emeraude stared at Betty in puzzlement. She wasn't exactly a fan of highbrow entertainment, but she'd been digging it so far. "It's not the show," Betty muttered. "I guess... I have a bad vibe about this..." "Mom, you're feeling the target on our collective back," Simone replied. "An opera is not an assassination roadmap. I'm having trouble keeping him from being paranoid as it is." Betty nodded, but it was clear she was having trouble, still. "Mom," Simone murmured. "I don't like the coincidence," Betty blurted. Breakfast had scheduled a masquerade ball for the following evening. Just then, the attendant announced the end of intermission. The wealthy attendees headed for their boxes. "Not a word," Simone admonished Betty. Finn was relaxed. She wanted him to stay that way.
Is it paranoia if they really ARE out to get you?