If General Otabek Altin was surprised by the elven Princess' presence at his quarters late evening, he did not show it. Stoic and stony-faced as ever, he simply thanked the Lady for bringing the message to him before immediately breaking the King's seal and reading its contents.

"I see," was his only reply.

"Shall I...erm...take any messages for you? I don't mind. I'm on quite a roll as a royal messenger at the moment."

The young general shook his head.

"No, that won't be necessary My Lady. I shall notify the guards myself. Thank you for your efforts tonight."

Mila bowed her head slightly at the General before excusing herself and heading back to her room to check on Ciocco. He's such a handsome young man, full of life and virility. It's a shame that he looks positively constipated most of the time. That impassive look he always has...it's absolutely nearly impossible to read! Mila shook her head in dismay. It's a tragedy, really. He grew up under the specter of his father's perceived failures. He's so serious and intense all the time. I don't know if I've EVER seen him smile. Mila sighed sadly. I truly hope that he can find true happiness someday. The feisty red-haired princess picked up her pace as she hurried back to her quarters.

General Otabek Altin sighed heavily. King Nikiforov had apparently been struck by another brilliant idea for an excursion and it was now up to him to make sure that he remained safe. He looked up at the painting of his father that he kept in the sitting room. His father had warned him that protecting the King was a challenge unlike any other. Kings were apparently fickle and hardheaded creatures. Once they got an idea into their heads, it was nearly impossible to change their minds. His father had attempted to prepare him for the nature of Kings, but his father had failed to prepare him for the whims of King Viktor Nikiforov. He was a very wise, crafty and capable King, but he was also very adamant about what he wanted and didn't want. King Nikiforov was quite difficult to reason with at times.

His father had also attempted to dissuade him from following in his footsteps, wishing to spare his son from the same fate that had befallen him. But he had been resolutely determined to bring glory to the Altin lineage once more. He had hoped that his father would obtain peace once he had seen his rise to King's General. That he'd feel vindicated and finally let go of the remorse and regret. But alas, that was not to be. His father had been so utterly devastated, and felt such guilt over the Queen's death that it slowly ate away at his soul until he died from it. Much like the old King, he had wasted away until he was barely a shadow of his former self. No one had ever blamed his father for the death of the Queen. The presence of the traitor had been a surprise to everyone. His father, however, had personally taken all the blame upon himself.

His father had allowed his emotions to take over him; and had succumbed to their power. Otabek recalls feeling relief when his father had finally passed, for the man's suffering had finally ended. He had made his vow then, to become the best General in the history of Occidentis. He also swore that he would guard himself against such overwhelming feelings and focus solely on being the most effective soldier. He had closed himself off emotionally and remained impassive, regardless of the situation. His eyes drifted back to the royal parchment he still held in his hand and groaned. If only the King wasn't so determined to make his job as difficult as possible.

Otabek grabbed his cloak and locked the door behind him as he left his quarters. The guards' residence was a mere 10-minute walk away, so he made it there in a very short time. As soon as he arrived, he made a beeline for the room of his lancer; Emil Nekola. He knocked brusquely on the lancer's door and went into a military stance as he waited for the door to be answered. When the young lancer opened the door, the surprise on his face was very clear. He quickly recovered and immediately saluted his commanding officer.

"Good evening General Otabek, Sir! How may I be of service, Sir?"

"At ease, Nekola."

"Thank you, Sir."

The young lancer visibly relaxed and took on a more informal posture as he waited for the General to give his orders.

"Squire Plisetsky has gone missing during the recon mission at безымянный. The King himself has decided to lead the search party. My presence is required and therefore I would like you to accompany me. The assassin twins are already on site, so they will add to our party."

"Thank you for choosing me, Sir. I am honored."

"Your skills are extraordinary, you will be a great asset to our party. Make the appropriate preparations, we leave at the crack of dawn."

The young lancer saluted the General once more.

"Yes, Sir."

General Altin nodded at the lancer before turning on his heel and heading off to make more arrangements for their departure.

…

Back at her quarters, Mila was ruffling some feathers…in a good way. Ciocco had managed to catch her breath and was much calmer than when she had flown in. Mila was currently petting the hawk, scratching at the sweet spot on the top of her head. The hawk's eyes were closed and it made a content cooing noise. Mila smiled as she looked down at the gorgeous animal. She loved her ability, for it allowed her to connect with animals on a whole other level. She felt truly very privileged to have such a gift. Once Ciocco was fed and taken care of, Mila checked on Lilia's whereabouts. The elven matron had retired to her quarters for the evening. Mila breathed a sigh of relief as a devious smile formed on her lips. She quickly rummaged through her closet for her 'commoner's garb' and excitedly changed out of her royal robes. She tied her hair back into a ponytail, making sure that her hair covered the tips of her ears. She then carefully arranged a broad-rimmed hat on her head. She admired her disguise in the mirror. The cotton pants and shirt she wore made her look like a young male peasant. With her breasts bound tight against her slim body, the transformation was complete. Mila walked over to her window and climbed out. Having a room on the fourth floor was not an obstacle to her at all. She was, and always had been, a rather proficient climber. She'd driven her parents nearly mad with her skills from a very young age, leading her own mother to wonder if she was actually more monkey than elf. Mila landed safely on the ground below her window and quickly looked around to make sure that she hadn't been spotted. Having animal lookouts just about everywhere was helpful in many ways. She ran off into the woods enthusiastically, eager to make her way to the local pub. She loved it there, as a 'male peasant' she could drink her fill in peace, her elven blood filtering out alcohol much more effectively than that of any human. At the local pub, she could enjoy a truly rare opportunity to be someone without any pressures or responsibilities. Mila giggled wickedly as the familiar building came into view. She was very much looking forward to a night of comradery and getting totally shit-faced.

…

Viktor paced back and forth in the library like a caged animal. He was absolutely livid. Yuri had begged and begged him to let him go on this recon mission. He had driven him nearly mad for days with all his pleas and vows. He had sworn up and down to him that he was ready, that he could handle it, that he would follow orders and behave himself. Viktor felt utterly betrayed. He clenched his fist and brought it down onto a nearby table, rattling the empty teacup that had been placed on it earlier. His presence in the search party may seem personal and even trivial to the untrained eye, but it was critically necessary. Viktor had to stave off a political disaster more than anything. He had to handle this personally.

Yuri Plisetsky was the son of a high-ranking noble from an ally nation and had been orphaned at a very young age. His parents had perished in a demon attack, a common instance since the days of his youth, as the demons had discovered that decimating the resistance from the top was the way to go. Yuri Plisetsky had been assigned to him as a charge, meaning that Viktor was responsible for him; his upbringing, his education, his training, and his welfare. Viktor had originally hoped that the two of them could grow up together as brothers, but things couldn't have been further from the truth. The young boy had been a thorn in his side since the get-go. Viktor understood the anger, he really did. He had also lost both his parents at a young age. He had seen his own mother murdered in front of his eyes for crying out loud. If anyone had the 'right' to be angry it was he. But he had also understood how to move past it. If he had let the anger consume him, there wouldn't be a kingdom left to rule. Yuri held on to his anger as if he were a drowning man hanging on to a life preserver. He was stubborn, hard-headed and a…

"сопливый ублюдок!"

Viktor pounded the table once more, rattling it enough to tip the teacup out of its saucer. He stopped and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingers as he took in some deep and calming breaths. If Yuri wasn't found alive and in one piece, there would be hell to pay. A potential civil war hung in the balance, and during these turbulent times, it would be a death sentence for all involved. Finding the brat was his immediate top priority. It was absolutely crucial that he'd be found alive.

"God help you, Yuri. I hope that despite your stupidity, you were at least able to come across some good luck. The kingdom depends on it."

…

Kenjirou Minami was restless. He paced the ship's deck as he tried to find some way to get rid of the excess energy he felt at the moment. He tried meditating, but couldn't calm his mind. He then tried counting the clouds, but it was really windy out and too many of them were blending together. He just ended up getting even more frustrated as he tried to separate all the clumps of clouds to count them. He thought that perhaps some food would bring him peace, but didn't feel a single pang of hunger. He was really at a loss. Suddenly, a flash of metal caught his attention and he pivoted on the balls of his feet in a second. His arm shot out and snatched the incoming object out of thin air. When he looked down at it, he was surprised to discover that it was his own spear. When he looked up at the direction it had come from, he saw the Royal Guard standing there.

"Impressive. Your reflexes really are as quick as they say. The Emperor is in good hands."

Minami awkwardly attempted to bow while he fumbled with the spear in his hand.

"Ah…ahhhh! Thank you, honorable guard. Your words are much too kind."

The guard smiled as he spoke.

"I'm Hibiki Fujimoto. Nice to meet you."

Minami bowed deeply toward the royal guard.

"Nice to meet you, Fujimoto San."

"It appears that you're struggling with a case of nerves, youngling. The unknown has you rattled."

Minami laughed nervously as he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

"Yes, I suppose I have. I've never been anywhere near Occidentis before. I don't know what to expect and it's making me a bit uneasy."

The Royal Guard laughed heartily.

"A bit uneasy? Child, you're about to wear a hole on the ship's deck. No one below deck can catch a wink of sleep."

Minami turned beet red at the guard's revelation.

"Oh, no! I'm so terribly sorry! I had no idea! I should go apologize to everyone!"

The guard held up his hand and Minami stopped dead in his tracks.

"That's why I'm here. I was a young and nervous soldier once too, many moons ago. Whenever things started to get a bit much for me, I'd always find peace in going through my katas. If that didn't help, I'd fall back on simply burning it out of my body via a sparring session with a fellow soldier."

The Royal Guard nodded toward Minami's spear.

"We'll start with katas. Show me your form. If you impress me enough, I'll join you."

Minami's eyes lit up as he looked at the Royal Guard with newfound appreciation.

"Thank you Fujimoto San! I won't let you down!"

True to his word, Kenjirou Minami did not disappoint. Having something to now focus his energy on, he poured his everything into proper form as he went through the various kata; starting with the basic ones and working his way up to the more complex. The Royal Guard nodded his appreciation and had soon drawn his sword and joined in. Once all the kata were finished, Minami took a deep breath and smiled gratefully at the guard before bowing toward him once more.

"How do you feel? Do you require any further action to calm your nerves?"

Minami shook his head.

"My nerves are fine now, thank you. But if you're willing to spar with me, I would be most grateful Fujimoto San! It's not every day that someone like me gets the chance to spar with a royal guard!"

Fujimoto laughed exuberantly once more.

"I like that look in your eyes, kid. Let's see if I can teach you a thing or two before bed tonight."

The two men sparred energetically well into the night. Fujimoto was highly skilled and DID teach Minami quite a few things about stances, blind spots and not leaving himself open. Minami was no slouch either and even managed to get the upper hand on the royal guard on quite a few occasions.

Exhausted, panting and covered in sweat, the two men finally decided to call it quits and prepare for bed. They had both worked up quite an appetite and met for dinner after they had washed up. All the agitation had been banished from his body and Minami had no problems falling asleep after he turned in for the night.

_terminology_

безымянный (bezymyannyy) – Nameless.

сопливый ублюдок (soplivyy ublyudok) – snot-nosed bastard