Author's Note: It's been a little while, hasn't it? Sorry about that. May you have a happy autumn! Enjoy~ Constructive Criticism is always welcomed.

Fiat Justitia Ruat Coelum

Chapter Eight: Meetings

Mako wiped at the sweat gathering on her brow with the back of her wrist, the heat from the kitchen keeping her almost overwarm at times, but she knew there were far worse places to be. Her homeland had been much hotter in the summer, and she had a new empathy for those who had worked in the kitchens there.

Now if only Kamilla would stop coming by to gloat over their reversals in fortune.

It had been the third time in as many days that Kamilla and Mako had crossed paths, and every time they met, the queen seemed to have something cruel and spiteful ready on the tip of her tongue.

This morning's pleasure had been about Eiji; Kamilla had caught sight of the small child on Mako's back, and with a look of disgust had ordered Mako to get the "abomination" out of her sight lest she remove it herself – permanently.

It had been with extreme self-control that Mako had bowed her head in acknowledgement, mumbling something about apologies that she didn't mean as she watched the self-satisfied smile light upon the queen's lips. She'd watched, fingers clenching into white-knuckled fists, as the other woman sauntered up the hall, crimson velvet gown trailing after her.

Mako's grip on the wooden spoon in her hand tightened at the memory, causing her to push it through the sauce she was stirring a little too hard, splashing it over the rim of the pot.

"Gently," a voice sounded in her ear. "Too hard and it splashes, too little and it'll bubble over."

Mako froze, heart hammering in her chest. She knew that voice.

"Just like this," the familiar voice continued, a hand swimming into view as it grasped hers and skillfully showed her how to stir with clean, smooth strokes. Her hand began trembling under his. "Careful," he warned under his breath. "You'll draw attention."

"Genta," her voice came out on a whisper, not daring to turn around lest she make a grievous mistake.

"I know," he murmured, giving her shoulder a light squeeze with his free hand.

"Thank you for your help," the warm voice of the head cook rang out cheerfully as she bustled over, swiping at straggling hairs dancing about her face. She beamed at Genta. "You've been a blessing."

Genta grinned amiably back. "I just know my way around food."

The woman patted him on the arm in camaraderie. "It was more than just that," she assured him. "With Lila out sick I didn't know what I was going to do until you showed up. Her Majesty wouldn't have been pleased if we'd had to serve her meals late."

"You seem to have a lot of help," Genta looked around the bustling, warm room with a trained eye.

"We have the hands," the woman admitted. "Some are just a little newer to the craft."

Mako flushed, but the cook laid a comforting hand on her arm. "You're doing just fine, dear," she assured her, eyes snagging on the metal ring around Mako's neck. "You have your hands full as it is." She patted her on the back once more before turning to answer a call across the kitchen.

Genta snagged the woman's attention as she made to move toward the caller. "What would you like me to start on next?"

"Remove that pot from the heat – it should be ready now. Then the pair of you can begin preparing the vegetables." She nodded to the pile on Mako's right, hesitating for a brief moment before tugging Genta aside. "I'd appreciate it if you would look after her," she nodded toward Mako who was busy shifting the pot off the flames. "We do our best," she glanced around the noisy place but lowered her voice all the same. "But there's a few who have it out for her." She frowned. "The poor girl's been through enough."

"I'll keep an extra eye on her," Genta promised solemnly, knowing it would be easy enough to keep his word. The cook smiled her thanks before hurrying off.

Genta selected a pair of knives from the block, handing one to Mako hilt first, and adjusting her grip to better cut her vegetable with clean even strokes. "That's right," he encouraged after watching her for a moment. "Just like that." He turned to his own pile, sweeping a discreet glance over her as he did so.

"That's a shiny bit of hardware," he commented, making sure to keep his voice even and only mildly interested.

Mako's lips thinned. "It marks me for my new status under their Majesties' passed judgment." Her blade came down a little harder than she intended. "I'm to pay for my crimes," she elaborated when his brows scrunched together in confusion.

"Crimes," he deadpanned. "What kind of trouble could you have gotten into already to warrant marked servitude?"

"According to the charges, it was my hand in bringing about Aduro's downfall and the death of her ruler."

"Someone has an axe to grind, huh?" Genta's smile was grim. He glanced at the metal ring with a quirk of his eyebrow. "Silver?"

Mako allowed a half-shrug of her shoulders. "I suppose it's their way of mocking me."

"By singling you out? Or so they can say that it was merely a trinket of adornment should someone offer to ransom your safe return?"

"Both, I believe." She swept her gaze around the kitchen, checking to ensure there were no curious ears tilted their way before shifting closer to Genta. "There's another," she told him. "She wears an identical one."

Genta's expression was unamused. "And what's her crime?"

"She once told me it was more akin to a balance of power – a way to keep her family in check or have them die trying to even the score." She bit her lip, eyes darting about the room, her heart hammering in her chest. "Is he really –?"

"He's fine," Genta murmured, keeping his voice pitched so only she could hear, using the noise of the kitchen to cover his words from others. "Still healing, but he'd be damned if he was going to be left behind." He shot her a quick grin that lifted her own lips in response. He chuckled, turning his eyes back to the task at hand. "Not that I would've tried to stop him – not with that look on his face." He frowned as he worked at digging out a particularly stubborn knot from the brown root he held in his hand.

"Kaoru wasn't thrilled about it, but she had a hard enough time keeping him still long enough that he wouldn't recklessly reopen his wound and accidentally kill himself. She even threatened to tie him down at one point, something Ryunosuke promised to help her with. I think that's what finally got him to wait, even though it about killed him; as badly as Ryunosuke wanted to tear after you himself, he was willing to wait for Take-chan to be able to make the journey too."

He watched her dash away stray tears with quick flicks of her fingers. "Careful," he warned. "Those onions will get you every time."

"So I've heard." Mako's smile was fragile but real all the same. "Takeshi?"

"Misses his mother something fierce; Kotoha's had her hands full keeping him occupied."

"How is she?" Mako worked to keep her tone light and even, despite how desperate she was for news.

"She and the baby are fine," Genta assured her, gathering his cuttings into a neat pile and reaching for the next. "She had another little girl," he answered her next question before she could ask. "She's mad as hell at being left behind, but Chiaki put his foot down when she thought she'd be riding out only a week after giving birth. She tried to claim that she'd be fine, that it was in her blood."

"Her mother did come from a great horse tribe," Mako reminded him, her smile soft at the thought of her sister. She'd never realized nor appreciated just how stubborn her family could be when given half a chance. It was nearly enough to make her anxious about when her children reached their adolescent years.

She didn't realize her hand had smoothed across the surface of her flat belly until she caught Genta turning away from the movement with a wince.

"Heard you'd had your little one," he murmured, his voice tinged with remorse.

"Yes," Mako returned softly, the bittersweet memories washing over her. "Right after I arrived."

"I'm sorry." The apology was as soft as a whisper and just as filled with guilt.

Mako concentrated on the sharp blade of her knife as it passed through the leafy greens in her hands. "I'm grateful, in a way," she admitted after a quiet moment. "He's given me something to hang on to – to focus on. Only…"

"Only?" Genta prompted when she trailed off.

Mako exhaled quietly. "Kamilla – Almanzor's wife – She's not afraid to threaten harm if I don't comply to her every whim – threats she would all too readily carry out just to watch…"

"Watch it destroy you," Genta finished for her, his expression darkening. "We'd heard the rumors of Almanzor's new queen, but it's hard to believe someone could go so far as to harm a child just to watch someone else suffer."

"You're forgetting where she and I were raised," Mako muttered.

"You didn't turn out like that."

"Ryunosuke and his mother made sure I was as far removed from it as possible, and I did the same with Kotoha," Mako shrugged.

"Knew you kept him around for a reason," Genta grinned and Mako couldn't suppress her own small one in return, heart aching at the familiar teasing.

Genta gave a discreet glance around them. "Speaking of squalling family, where is the little guy?"

"Ahim – my friend, the one with the matching band – is watching him for me for a few hours." Mako smiled. "She's grown rather attached to him, I think."

Genta was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. "You trust her?"

"Yes," Mako's reply was simple but laced with a subtle warning. He nodded, accepting her answer without another word and they continued the task at hand in silence, the hiss and bubble of multiple pots and pans filling in the space around the other conversations and shouted orders in the warm kitchen.

"I'm happy to see you, Genta."

"Likewise," Genta's smile was as wide as it was sincere.

"Hey, Mako," another voice swept in as a man with curling blonde hair passed by tying an apron around his waist. "Looks like they took you off pot-stirring duty."

"Only under careful supervision," Mako nodded toward Genta still at her side. "He's been instructed to keep a close eye on me."

Genta blinked, startled that she had overheard the conversation he'd had with the head cook. He kept a rueful smile in check – he'd forgotten how quick she was.

"You must be the new help; I'd heard they'd hired a new hand this morning," the man turned to Genta with an amiable smile. "I'm Don Dogier."

"Genta," Genta returned with a disarming smile of his own, brushing a hand off on his pants before grasping the other man's in greeting. If Don noticed the lack of a surname, he didn't mention it as he turned to scan the pile of vegetables the pair had conquered.

"Ahim's calling for you," Don turned to Mako with a satisfied nod at the progress. "I think your son's hungry."

"Eiji."

Don blinked in confusion.

"His name," Mako's smile grew in response to Genta's. "My son's name is Eiji."

"I think Eiji's hungry," Don amended, missing the exchange.

"I'll go check on him. Thank you, Don," Mako said as she brushed her hands off on her own apron before excusing herself to go ask the head cook for a brief respite. The two men watched her leave before turning to the other with an probing glance.

"You know Mako?" Don asked with a feigned casual interest.

Genta nodded. "I was introduced to her by your head cook."

Don studied him, unable to detect a lie in the other man's face or tone. This was more of Gai's thing than his, but Marvelous had given him strict instructions to keep an eye on anyone trying to get close to Mako Shiba.

"She has a child," Don told him, hoping it would be enough to deter the man's interest.

Genta grinned in response. "So I heard. His name's Eiji, I believe."

Don sighed gustily, giving up all pretense of stealth – it wasn't his forte. "Don't bother her," he told the other man with a bluntness that apparently only amused him. "She has more than enough to worry about." He gave a sudden cry of alarm as one of the girls tried to add the wrong ingredient to a dish, and he rushed over to catch her before they were forced to start all over.

"Yeah," Genta murmured with a grimace as he turned to gather all the vegetables he and Mako had cut into a bowl. "I heard about that one, too."

Mako had thinned out, almost alarmingly so for one who'd just had a child, and there were shadows in her eyes that hadn't been there before. Genta sighed heavily, already predicting how Takeru was going to react to the news.

Mako shifted Eiji's sling as he snuggled closer to her back with a quiet sound. Ahim looked over with a smile as they moved down the hall. "He is beginning to move around more," she observed.

"He's curious," Mako agreed. "Pretty soon that curiosity will lead to him shoving things into his mouth."

"He seems to have discovered that with his hand." Ahim worked to stifle her laughter as Mako sighed.

"His hand today, my hair tomorrow," she muttered with exasperation. She watched with interest as one of the housemaids scuttled past with a look of trepidation in her eyes. Mako frowned. "What has her spooked?"

Ahim watched the woman go, her lips pressed together in concern. "The physicians arrived this morning." She caught Mako's confused look and elaborated. "They are to stop at the castle periodically to check on Her Majesty's condition."

"Condition?" Mako's brows furrowed. "Is she sick?"

Ahim shook her head, eyes darting about the hall before she leaned closer to Mako's ear, dropping her voice as she did so. "The King and Queen have failed to conceive over the entirety of their union. She becomes more distraught over this dilemma with each passing year."

So Kamilla was having difficulty producing an heir. That was an interesting tidbit of information. Mako made sure to keep her face carefully blank. "Why should that make others fearful of her?"

"Her Majesty has a bit of a temper," Ahim tried to explain as delicately as possible. "Those in the resulting vicinity suffer along with her at the disappointing news."

"Yes," Mako's voice soured. "That sounds like the Kamilla I know."

Ahim glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. "Did you know Her Majesty well?"

Mako contemplated the question. "Better than she would wish, I think, despite my best efforts."

Her eyes narrowed. "Speak of Malevolence and she shall come," she muttered as a figure came into view in the distance, her face white with rage. Ahim tensed as she caught sight of the woman, coming to a full halt in the hallway to press herself up against the wall, her eyes cast upon the floor. With great reluctance Mako too moved against the wall, but chose to watch Kamilla's approach, her face carefully blank.

Kamilla's heels clacked against the stone floors in time to her furious gait, her expression dark and tinged with a hint of sorrow and desperation. Mako might have felt pity for the woman at one time, but now she only watched as a hard cold knot formed in her stomach at the memory of all Kamilla had done.

The queen was so caught up in her own thoughts that she may have passed Mako and Ahim without even realizing they were there if not for Eiji's ill-timed gurgle of delight as he gummed his fist.

Kamilla froze at the sound, eyes locking on the pair of women, surprise than a hot, stinging envy spiking through her.

Ahim went pale, her fists clenching together where they rested clasped together in front of her waist. She shot Mako a fearful look, but the young mother held Kamilla's gaze, her face as stoic as ever.

Kamilla's eyes narrowed in hatred. "So, you're still dragging the filthy little mutt around with you everywhere, are you?" When she didn't get a reaction, Kamilla's jaw clenched, her hands fisting at her sides as she stewed in her fury and frustration. "When your queen asks a question, you are to answer, Sister."

"I believe you merely made an observation, Kamilla," Mako answered back, her tone even. "My son is here, yes. Rest easy in knowing that your eyesight has yet to fail you."

"It's 'Your Majesty'," Kamilla hissed.

Mako pinned the other woman with a disdainful stare. "As you keep insisting on referring to me so familiarly, Kamilla, I thought you would appreciate the same courtesy." Mako's head snapped to the side from the blow of the queen's slap. She met Kamilla's furious gaze with apparent apathy, her cheek stinging.

"You're playing a dangerous game," Kamilla warned, her tone deadly. "One that you will lose, I promise you that. I once told you to be wary and watch your back, did I not? That next time it would take more than a flimsy scarf to the hide damage." She stepped closer and into Mako's personal space.

"I won't kill you," she breathed. "Not yet. I will watch your suffering with great joy and satisfaction first." She glanced at the child strapped to Mako's back, a thrill of delight running through her when Mako stiffened at the action. "I can do to your son what I had done to your husband and daughter, and I would sleep well at night besides."

"You," she pinned Ahim with a glare. "Take the brat and keep it out of my sight. If I catch so much as a glimpse of it again, I promise it will be the last time." She turned back to Mako with a poisonous smile. "As for you, Sister, I think your day would best be spent on your hands and knees as you think upon, and repent your words and deeds. The front hall needs to be scoured. You are not to rest until it is spotless. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes, your Majesty," Ahim murmured, dipping a curtsey right on cue.

Mako's features were pale from the combination of the terror she felt for her son and her anger at Kamilla's casual dismissal of Takeru and Ayako's lives.

A smile slid across Kamilla's face at the fury she saw in Mako's. "Your queen asked a question," she reminded her in a deceptively soft tone.

"I understand," Mako murmured, sinking into a shallow curtsey.

With a satisfied smirk Kamilla continued down the hall, her steps lighter than they had been before.

Ahim watched her go with a slow exhale of breath. "You should not challenge her. She is not the forgiving sort."

"I am aware," Mako responded, her voice quiet but hard, fingers reaching up to rub at where the silver ring was chaffing at the skin around her neck. "However, she is not as powerful as she believes. Her hubris will be her downfall, I assure you." She met Ahim's inquiring gaze with a hard one of her own. "Between your family and mine, we will make sure she learns that lesson – thoroughly."

Ahim felt her spirits lift at the other woman's confidence, amazed at the change that had come over Mako now that she knew her husband had survived and her family had come for her. Her eyes landed on the child strapped to Mako's back and felt her smile falter. "What about Eiji? I fear he is no longer safe here."

Mako shifted the sling until she was cradling her son in her arms. "He never really was," she reminded her softly before sighing. "But in challenging Kamilla so directly, I think I endangered him more." A frown touched her lips. "What mother risks the safety of her children like that?" She looked up at the touch of Ahim's hand on her arm.

Ahim spoke with earnest as she watched doubt creeping across her friend's face. "One who is willing to save so many from merciless tyrants."

Mako gave her a rueful smile in return. "My reasons are not that lofty; I just want to keep my family forever beyond Almanzor and Kamilla's grasp."

"It leads to the same end," Ahim smiled. Her head tilted to the side as she considered Mako for a long moment, a plan forming in her head. "Ms. Mako?"

"Yes?"

"You agree that it is no longer safe for your son here, correct?"

Mako's arms tightened around her child as she nodded. "Yes." Her voice was soft, tinged with regret.

"What if –?" Ahim scanned the halls before drawing closer to the other woman despite being alone in the hall. "What if we spirited him out?"

Mako blinked in response, startled at the suggestion.

"I can send word to my brother," Ahim continued, voice quiet but urgent. "We can smuggle Eiji out of the castle and into a safe home. Luka is well-versed in caring for younger children," she rushed to assure Mako before she could protest. "She has many contacts throughout the city – they will care for his every need until the danger has passed.

"He won't be found," she promised, running a gentle finger across his cheek. A soft smile tugged at her lips as his eyes followed the motion, one tiny arm trying to grasp her hand in his. "We will keep him safe." She met Mako's eyes with a fierce determination. "I swear we will keep your son safe, Ms. Mako."

Mako studied her friend for a long, quiet moment as she warred with herself; the promise of safety for her child was as overwhelming as the thought of letting him go to do so. She looked at her son, meeting his dark, curious eyes, heart breaking as he smiled at her and reached for her face. Mako pressed a tender kiss upon his crown as tiny fists patted her face with a delighted gurgle.

Tears swam in her eyes as she gently tugged the hair he had snagged out of his grasp and met Ahim's patient gaze.

"Okay," she agreed at last, her voice thick. "Send word to your brother, but on one condition." Ahim's head tilted to the side in question. "I'd like Eiji to meet his father first before he goes into hiding."

Ahim's smile was gentle as she nodded. "Of course."

"Ms. Mako," Ahim kept her voice soft as she laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "It's time." She watched as tears filled the young mother's eyes, lines of stress drawn over every inch of her features.

As soon as Marvelous had received Ahim's message, he'd set her fledgling plan into action. Within a few days everything had been set and ready, but even the knowledge that her son was being passed into his father's arms hadn't made the idea of separation any easier for Mako.

Ahim waited patiently as Mako held her child close for one last brief moment, whispering something fervent and tender in his ear before handing him to Ahim who gently lay him inside a sturdy wicker basket, covering him with several warm blankets.

Ahim reached over and embraced the trembling mother. "We'll keep him safe, I swear it."

Mako could only nod in response, tears making their way down her cheeks, using every last ounce of her will to keep from snatching her son back. With a tremendous effort she wrenched her gaze away from the sight, arms curling up to hug her middle. "Go." Her voice was a broken whisper.

On quiet footsteps Ahim slipped out the door, basket in hand, her heart breaking at the muffled sob that escaped before the door shut firmly behind her.

She walked at a sedate pace, wanting to attract the least amount of attention possible as she moved through the castle, sticking to the hidden pathways until she emerged into the controlled chaos of the kitchens.

After a quick glance around her she spotted Doc's mop of curly hair bobbing amongst the others. As some of the staff called out a morning greeting her way he looked up and caught her eye. With a discreet nod he began to extricate himself from the crowd and subtly wandered in her direction.

For her part, Ahim carefully set the basket down at her feet just beneath the long wooden counter, rolling up her sleeves and pulling over a lump of dough that she began kneading with quick, firm movements. If anyone noticed that her knuckles were white with strain, no one commented.

"Morning, Ahim," Don greeted with a smile that Ahim returned. He gave her a few quick directions for what he wanted done with the dough before moving on, basket in hand.

As he moved around the kitchen, giving a few bits of advice or directions, he picked up other scattered baskets and lay them near the open doorway where a steady stream of people passed in and out, bringing in armloads of fresh supplies for the day.

He exchanged a quick, subtle glance with an auburn-haired woman as she swung in through the door, large basket in hand. She sashayed past him to set her burden down on a table, batting her eyelashes at the man who received her goods. Don concentrated on stacking the empty baskets into neat piles, placing the one with its precious cargo on top.

"Aren't those baskets ready yet?" An annoyed feminine voice sounded from behind him and Don turned to see Luka with her hands on her hips, fully ignoring the lingering glances of the man behind her.

Don let out an exasperated sigh. "Yes, they're ready."

He turned to pick up the nearest stack. "As impatient as ever," he mumbled.

"Have something to say there, Doc?" Luka's eyes narrowed at the blond.

"No, no, not at all," he assured her, inserting just the right amount of timidity in his voice as she glared back. "Here you go."

Luka snatched the baskets out of his hands with a few choice mutters under her breath before stomping out the door.

A large hand landed on Don's shoulder, making him jump. He turned to see the man Luka had been flirting with grinning down at him.

"She's a firecracker, isn't she?"

Don shook his head. "She's a little scary."

The man laughed. "A little bit of that too." He patted Don on the shoulder before turning back to his work, and Don worked to get his heartbeat back under control.

Outside, Luka made her way toward the row of carts, sidestepping out of the way of people laden with full hands as she headed for the one with stacks of already empty crates and baskets. Carefully she nestled her burden down inside the cart before swinging herself up beside it and settling down among the supplies.

"All set," she called over her shoulder to the driver of the cart, his long dark hair stirring in the breeze. With a nod he flicked the reins and began guiding the horse out of the bustling area, mindful of the bodies pressed around them. Slowly they moved past the gates and out into the open lanes, Luka swinging her legs and humming a tune from the back, one arm subtly holding a particular stack of baskets steady as they headed back to the market.

They passed through checkpoints with relative ease, the guards on duty sparing no more than a passing glance at the empty containers, hiding yawns behind gloved hands as they stomped their feet to keep warm in the chill morning air.

As they neared the market, Joe directed the horse out of the way of the early crowds, easing his way into a tight corner where several other carts already stood by, their contents being hurriedly emptied by waiting hands.

Luka jumped out of the cart almost before it had stopped moving and grabbed the first stack. With quick, sure steps she headed to the back of the establishment's door, stepping easily inside and making for an empty area in a back corner. As she set her armful down she quickly scanned the room before, satisfied no one was watching, she switched out the top basket with another tucked behind several tall kegs. She sent a quiet prayer that the child would continue to keep quiet just a little longer before slipping back out to help Joe empty the rest of the cart.

When the task was finished, Joe flicked the reins once more and began to move out without another glance back as Luka turned with a smile at the sound of her name.

"Finished already, dear?" Luka called as a familiar face rounded the corner waving his hand enthusiastically over his head.

"Not yet," Gai answered as he drew near. "But they let me take a break a little earlier today. Are you ready to go?"

"Just let me gather my things." Luka slipped back in the door, calling to the proprietor that she had finished for the morning, she fetched the wicker basket from its resting spot and returned to Gai's side back out in the sunshine. With a sweet smile she threaded her arm through his, and they made for the market.

They took their time, stopping at various stalls to admire the goods, and purchasing a couple of fresh pastries that steamed in the cold air.

Luka's heart tripped when a quiet cry came from inside the basket dangling from the crook of her elbow.

"Oh?" The woman behind the stall looked at the bundle wrapped inside. "Have a little one of your own, do you?"

"Yes," Luka smiled, allowing a flush to cover her cheeks as she dropped her gaze demurely. "Our first."

The woman beamed at the couple before her. "Congratulations!" She scooped up a couple sweet buns and wrapped them to go. "Here," she pressed them into Gai's protesting hands with a firm insistence. He stopped objecting when another muffled cry came from the basket, his eyes darting to it with concern. The woman laughed good-naturedly. "I think your little one might be hungry, too. Be safe and keep warm." She waved a farewell as they strolled away, arm in arm. Luka called her thanks back over her shoulder with a charming smile.

"Do you think we've waited long enough?" She asked out of the corner of her mouth, fluttering her eyelashes as if she were flirting.

Gai leaned closer with a grin in response, his voice low. "It should be safe to begin heading back."

Luka nodded, letting a girlish giggle escape her lips as she leaned into the arm he had wrapped around her shoulders, completing the picture of a young couple out for a morning walk.

Carefully they made their way through the market until they were able to slip into the shadows of an alleyway. From there they made quick work down the dim paths, out of sight of prying eyes until they came upon one of the concealed entrances to the tunnel systems. With a swift glance around, Gai watched their surroundings as Luka dropped inside, basket clutched tight to her chest, and landed on the balls of her face.

"Sorry," she murmured to the child inside as he gave a startled cry from the jolt. Her eyes scanned the shadows, rocking the child with a soothing motion as Gai dropped down beside her. On swift, silent feet they moved through the passageways with ease, never losing their sense of direction in the labyrinth. Soon they came to the familiar sight of a heavy wooden door.

Gai gave the signal before opening the door and bowing Luka through.

Twitching the curtains aside, Luka stepped into the brighter room, her sharp eyes taking in the anxious postures of their allies. She met Marvelous' gaze with a brief nod, and watched the muscles in his shoulders relax, a swift grin lighting upon his features.

"Any trouble?" He asked.

Luka shook her head. "Just like we planned."

"No one suspected a thing?" Another voice piped up and Luka scowled at the tall, lanky man frowning in her direction.

"We've been doing this a long time," she snapped back. "We know what we're doing."

"You make it a habit to smuggle children out of castles?" Another asked, his eyes dancing with mischief.

"When it's profitable," Marvelous answered, relaxing back into his chair. He waved in his guests' direction. "Show 'em the goods, Luka."

Still miffed at the slight, Luka turned instead for the man who had risen halfway out of his seat, anxiety, hope and a touch of longing swirling in his eyes despite his calm façade. She set the basket at his feet before bending down to unearth the now squirming bundle. The little one had been remarkably cooperative along the course of his journey, but it appeared that he now sensed that the time to keep still had passed and wanted his deserved attention.

With a gentleness that belied her sharp tongue, Luka scooped the child into her arms, holding the comforting weight against her chest for a moment as she bounced the child with gentle motions and rose to meet Takeru's anxious gaze.

"It's my honor to present you your son," she told him, her voice kind but quiet. "I'm sorry it couldn't have been your wife doing so instead." She drew the blankets away from the child's face, revealing his features to all those present as they began to crowd in, unable to help themselves.

"Thank you," Takeru murmured, feeling the words weren't quite adequate, but distracted by the sight of his son as Luka slid him into his waiting arms. She stood back, sliding out of the small crowd now that her initial duty was done. She moved to Marvelous' side, perching on the armrest of his chair and started a quick, low conversation as they kept a close eye on the door where Gai stood guard.

"Is he really so big already?" Takeru asked no one in particular. Dark eyes regarded each other with curiosity and wonder as the child's fussing abated.

"A few months'll do that," Chiaki cracked, earning himself a reproachful glare from Ryunosuke.

Takeru adjusted his grip so that his son was now sitting more upright, allowing his curious eyes to dart around the assembled group with fascination. "He looks healthy."

Genta snorted beside him. "Of course he does; as if Mako would let any of her children be anything else."

A bittersweet smile touched on Takeru's lips. "You're right." His expression fell. "If only it were as easy to smuggle her out as it had been for him."

"There was nothing easy about it," Luka called from her seat next to Marvelous, arms crossed over her chest. "If he'd been any bigger it would've been a hell of a lot harder. We were lucky your wife agreed to release him when she did."

"How is Mako?" Takeru's brows knit together in concern as he looked up at the couple on the dais.

Luka looked down at the child in Takeru's arms, unable to meet his eyes. "She knows it's what's best for him."

Takeru looked away, his gut twisting at the thought of what his wife must be going through to now be separated from all of them.

"What will happen to Mako now?" Ryunosuke asked in the momentary silence.

Luka blinked. "Happen?"

"There will be consequences," Marvelous answered. "The longer she can keep your son's absence a secret, the longer she will be safe from their wrath, but yes," he met Ryunosuke's gaze with a firm one of his own. "They will find out."

"She knew what she was doing," Genta reminded Ryunosuke before the man could start spitting accusations. "Kamilla's been angling to inflict more pain on Mako for a while now. The best way she could have done it is through her kid." He gripped Ryunosuke's shoulder firmly. "Mako's tough; she knows we're here and her son is safe. That'll carry her a long way."

"But will it be far enough?" Ryunosuke pressed.

Chiaki looked around at the despairing group. "Maybe we can get someone in there."

"In where?"

"In the castle with Mako."

"You already have Genta helping out in the kitchens," Marvelous pointed out. "The more people you start sneaking in, the harder it will be for them to get out unnoticed or unscathed."

"Then maybe Takeru can go in and –"

"No," Marvelous refusal was as blunt as it was harsh. "I wouldn't do that until I had no other choice." He met Takeru's gaze. "You're too well-known to be slipping in and out of that court."

Takeru nodded in understanding, shoving away the fleeting spark of hope at seeing Mako. He wanted little more at that moment than to hold her safe in his arms. Absently, he gently tugged Eiji's hand out of his mouth, swiping at the drool that had begun to trail down his chin with a corner of the blanket. Sensing someone's stare, he looked up to meet Luka's amused smile.

"You're a real natural," she observed, resting her chin on her fist. "Guess three kids'll do that to ya."

"It apparently also makes your wife a larger target for your enemies," Ryunosuke muttered darkly.

Takeru shifted uneasily in this chair at the words, a growing dread spreading through his veins.