The royal carriage was opulent beyond anything Judy had ever seen. No part of it had been too small or insignificant to lavish with extraordinary detail, from the carpet underfoot that was woven with a series of nesting floral patterns to the elegantly filigreed wooden panels that made up the walls. The low table at the center of the space must have had its detailing carved by mice, because Judy didn't think there could have been any other species that would have been capable of such minute and laboriously precise work. Even the plush benches that sat on either side of the table could have been thrones, the cushioning so thick that Judy's feet dangled off the floor once she had taken a seat as the princess indicated. The carriage must have been worth more than her entire family's estate, noble though it was, and Judy had never felt more awkwardly out of place than she did sitting there.

Nick sat on the bench next to her as though none of it impressed him.

If it had been a few days earlier Judy might have felt a stab of envy at his ability to handle any situation he found himself in as though it had been exactly what he had planned for, but she thought she knew him well enough to know that he was actually just as awed as she was. He was just better at hiding it, that was all. Still, if he was even a little afraid of appearing like an idiot in front of his monarch, he didn't show so much as the slightest sign of it.

"That's a very clever solution, Captain Nicholas," the princess said, nodding approvingly, "I've never heard of an alchemist trying anything similar."

The princess had eagerly drawn Nick into a conversation about alchemy as they walked over to the carriage, and Judy had done her best to seem thoughtful and attentive despite it sounding like they were speaking a different language. Most of it made absolutely no sense to her, and they didn't seem to be using the words she did know in their usual fashion.

Nick flashed the princess his most dazzling smile, and shrugged modestly. "That's very kind of you to say so, your majesty," he said, "And dare I ask if you're an alchemist yourself?"

The princess laughed a little at that, and it was her turn to modestly wave the compliment away. "Certainly not!" she said, "But the royal library has many books on alchemy and I can't help but read them. It's all so interesting!"

She sighed suddenly. "They're my second favorite books," the princess added, and her enthusiasm faded, tinged by melancholy.

That, at least, was something that Judy could contribute to, and she jumped on the conversational opening. "What kind of books are your favorites?" she asked, and despite her genuine interest in lending the princess the sympathetic ear she seemed to need Judy hoped that it wasn't mathematics.

The princess fidgeted with her paws, so curiously mismatched from her hooved feet, for an instant before responding. "It's... childish, perhaps," she admitted, her eyes and ears low, "But I've always loved the old stories of adventure. I used to dream of going to the Outer Baronies, and even beyond, myself, but... not like this."

She took in their royal surroundings with a single vague gesture. "It wouldn't be responsible for the princess to travel alone," she said, and the bright cheerfulness in her voice struck Judy as woefully forced, "And I must be responsible, of course."

It suddenly occurred to Judy that the carriage they sat in was very nearly the equal of the prison she and Nick had escaped. If the princess demanded that the guards outside the door turn the carriage around and head back to the palace, would they actually do so?

"It feels as though the gods have seen fit to honor my prayers in their own peculiar way," the princess continued, "Though now I would give anything, even if it meant staying in the palace my entire life and never leaving, if it meant my subjects would be safe."

Judy had no idea what to say to that, and from a quick glance at Nick she thought she saw a confusion that mirrored her own in his eyes. Nick, she knew, wasn't a noble, and while he might have worked for nobles at one time or another she doubted he could understand the terrible burden that family heirs were under. In her case, it was simply the luck of the order she had been born in that she would not inherit the Totchli Barony and was free to pursue her dream of joining the City Guard. She couldn't help but think of what her life might have been had she been the eldest of her siblings. An arranged marriage, as soon as she came of age, after a lifetime of preparation to join two families as smoothly as possible. The matter of running the day-to-day duties of the household would be hers to share with whatever husband her parents found, and together they would have seen to the concerns of the lesser holdings and commoners of the barony. She would have certainly been expected to produce an heir and more than one spare, as her own mother had, and see to raising all of her kits.

It sounded awful.

The princess, at least, wasn't betrothed to anyone so far as Judy knew—and considering that it would be a major piece of news, she was fairly confident that the princess wasn't—and being the queen's successor meant she would be running the entire kingdom rather than simply a minor barony, but she wouldn't have traded places with the princess for anything in the world. Still, she couldn't help but admire the nobility of the princess's words. Whatever her own dreams for her life were, the princess seemed honor-bound to fulfill her duties.

"That's a terrible burden you carry, your majesty," Judy said at last.

Her words sounded horribly hollow to her own ears, a simple and empty platitude. But the princess nodded appreciatively, and she looked Judy in the eyes. "Thank you, commandant," she said quietly, and she fell silent.

The moment dragged out slowly, the only sound the barely audible creaking and shaking of the carriage as it moved along, and just as Judy feared that the princess would not speak again until they were relieved she suddenly sat up a little straighter. "But that's quite enough of my own problems," she said, and while the words were quite adult in tone Judy thought she was hearing an echo of something the queen must have told the princess, or perhaps told her frequently, "Would you indulge me, Commandant Totchli? I would like to hear of your own adventure, in your words."

Judy eagerly did as she had been asked, and found the experience of recounting her experience quite different from telling it to Captain General Bogo. Perhaps it was simply that she had already done it once before, and had practice in that regard. Perhaps it was that the princess was a far more empathetic audience than Bogo and his implacable face, gasping and going wide-eyed at the right moments. Or perhaps it was simply having Nick—the real Nick, rather than one that lived in her head and no one else could see—to jump in and add his perspective.

But whatever the case, it was far easier to tell the story the second time, and when she had finished, Judy gratefully accepted the cup of water the princess offered her from an elegant carafe. As the water, cool and with a hint of cucumber flavor, washed against her parched mouth she watched the princess consider the story in its entirety. The princess had seemed alternatively delighted and impressed, her expressions so much easier to read than Bogo's, but Judy couldn't help but wonder if she had caught on to what she had left out. Just as had been the case with Bogo, it hadn't felt right to speak about what Nick had told her as she drifted in and out with venom coursing through her veins, to say nothing of actually kissing him. But then, Bogo seemed practically carved out of stone, so generally unemotional—except anger, so far as she could tell—that Judy couldn't possibly imagine him in a relationship of his own. He seemed more the sort that filled his life with nothing but work, training, and sleep. Just like I used to, a thought crept uncomfortably into Judy's head.

She pushed the thought aside. Speaking with the captain general about her love life ranked as about the thing she wanted to do least, but the omission seemed more egregious when it came to Princess Isabel. "If you weren't sitting before me, I would have guessed you could never have made it out alive," the princess said, sighing a little, "I'm sure it must have been terrifying in the moment, and you probably never want to go through anything like that again, but it's very nearly like one of the stories from those old books."

The princess laughed, and the sound was almost musical. "Why, if only there was a romance it would fit right in!"

Judy choked on her water, but Nick was about as unflappable as ever, laughing heartily at the princess's comment. "Reality does sometimes fail to live up to our expectations," he said, smiling, "Sometimes, but not always. Isn't that right, Commandant Totchli?"

It was all Judy could do to nod, trying not to show anything on her face, but the princess thankfully moved on. "But may I ask what made you persevere?" she said, "What kept you from giving up?"

"It needed to be done, your majesty," Judy answered without thinking.

Before she had earned her commission, if Judy had been asked why she wanted to join the City Guard the answer would have been a simple one: she wanted to do her part to keep the kingdom safe and help make it better. It was the truth, although she would have been lying if she had said that she didn't care about achieving recognition or glory as a guardsmammal. But from the moment Cencerro had trapped her in that prison, she had never stopped pushing to make it out and provide a warning because it did need to be done and she and Nick were the only ones in any position to do so.

The princess nodded approvingly. "You're exactly the sort of mammal the City Guard needs, Commandant Totchli," she said, "Tell me, are you married?"

Of all the questions the princess could have asked, Judy wasn't sure there was one she could have expected least. "No, your majesty," she said.

"Nor engaged to be married?"

"No, your majesty," Judy repeated.

"Ah," the princess said, "I admit, I somewhat hoped you would be able to tell me more about marriage. I'm afraid everyone only tells me about the positive parts. It will be time to choose a husband soon, you see."

Considering how the princess had commented on how the old stories she loved included romance, and taking into account her later comments, Judy thought she understood a bit more where the princess was coming from. It would be the princess's duty to not only rule Zootopia itself, but also for the kingdom to survive her own rule. It didn't seem surprising, then, that everyone the princess knew would speak to her about marriage in only the most glowing of terms. "What about you, Captain Nicholas?" the princess asked, turning to face Nick.

"I'm afraid I'm of no help there, your majesty," Nick said, a slight smile touching his lips.

"I don't wish to be rude," the princess said, her words becoming somewhat more hesitant, "Nor to pry. But I have heard that commoners may take... certain liberties before marriage that the nobility don't."

It took Judy a moment to realize what the princess was delicately asking Nick and she felt her ears burning crimson. "I suspect that the nobility take those liberties the same as commoners, your majesty," Nick said.

"But it is a scandal when they do and it becomes known," the princess said, and Nick nodded to concede the point, "Is it the same for commoners?"

"I've never taken those liberties myself, if that is what your majesty is asking," Nick replied.

Judy saw the insides of the princess's ears flush and watched as she stammered out an apology in a rather un-princess like fashion. "I— I do apologize, Captain Nicholas. I ended up being quite rude after all."

Judy couldn't help but gape in surprise. Not because of what she had learned about Nick—she had suspected that he had never allowed himself to get particularly close to anyone following his mistreatment as a kit and she certainly didn't believe that commoners were somehow automatically morally inferior to nobles—but because the princess had apologized to him. Her own family, and the mammals of Totchli Barony in general, were quite a bit more lax when it came to the rules of polite society than anyone Judy had met from the Inner Baronies, and she had always assumed that the royal family would be the perfect example of following protocol. Nick seemed very nearly as surprised as she was, though he hid it better, and he hastily waved the apology away. "No, no, I am the one who should be apologizing, your majesty. I—"

"Spoke plainly and simply," the princess interrupted, and a hint of a smile came to her face, "It is rare for mammals to do so in my presence."

She fell silent again, but there was a kind of contentedness to it that made it so it wasn't awkward. Unless Judy was very much off the mark—and she did have to admit she didn't always interpret things correctly—the princess was enjoying their company, and that in and of itself was a touch sad, that she didn't seem to have any friends to relate to. From everything the princess had said, Judy couldn't help but wonder if the princess was somewhat jealous of her.

"If I may be so bold, and hopefully far less rude," the princess said eventually, "There is something else I would ask of you, Commandant Totchli."

"Anything, your majesty," Judy said promptly.

"You see," the princess began slowly as she stood and walked over to one wall of the carriage, "I have begun to learn the art of fencing."

She pressed one paw against a panel, and a cunningly concealed cabinet popped open, revealing a number of gleaming sabres. Sabres which were, Judy realized with a start, identical to the one Nick had been presented with upon being given his rank; Nick's sabre must have once belonged to the princess herself. "But besides my fencing master, there is no one who will practice with me," the princess said, and then she added with a rueful laugh, "Or at least no one who will not simply let me win."

The princess drew forth one of the blades, and Judy saw that its edge was completely blunt, although some of the other sabres looked wickedly sharp. "I think I would learn better against a real opponent, if you would agree to fight me with all your strength."

"It would be my honor, your majesty," Judy said, bowing her head.

"Wonderful!" the princess said, her smile seeming completely genuine, "You may consider it a royal command not to go easy on me."

Judy was about to reply when the handle of the door into the carriage jiggled and there was suddenly a booming series of knocks as whoever was on the other side realized it was locked.

"Your majesty, please, you must open the door!"

The voice coming from the other side of the carriage door was high and tense with anxiety, and Judy could see the door—at least three inches thick and solidly built—shake with the frantic pounding. Judy half-rose from her seat on the bench, turning to face the door, but the princess made no move from where she stood by the cabinet, a sabre still in her paws. Was it a trick? Someone trying to lure the princess out? Judy didn't recognize the voice, and she searched the princess's face for so much as a glimmer of recognition. She saw nothing, the chimera's face frozen and her eyes wide as the frantic knocking continued.

"What— What is it?" the princess asked at last, her voice betraying a quavering thread of fear.

"It's the queen, your majesty. Please, you must come at once!"

Author's Notes:

This chapter was a fun opportunity to get a bit more into the princess's head, as Bogo never really spent time with her alone and even if he had she probably wouldn't have opened up to him quite so much as she does to Nick and Judy.

In this chapter, Judy's thoughts reveal a bit more about the carriage beyond what Bogo noted; I figure she's more prone to being awed by the opulence of royal settings than he is.

It's one of the symptoms of jargon for any profession that it can be so dense it sounds unintelligible to anyone who doesn't know it; considering that alchemy in this universe covers things we would explain with chemistry I don't think it should be too surprising that Judy can't follow what Nick and the princess are saying. For her part, the princess has previously shown her interest in alchemy as indicated by her fondness for the court alchemist Tomas.

When thinking of what her life might have been had she been the eldest in her family, Judy obliquely references the common idea of the "heir and the spare." That is, that a noble family will produce an eldest child who is expected to take over, and a second child who is only around in case something happens to the first. There are a fair number of kings who were second sons, their older brother having died in one way or another, but it's a rather difficult position to be in. At least for royalty, the "spare" can't do anything to embarrass their older brother, but also can't do anything that makes them appear more worthy or otherwise a threat. Given that Judy has pretty consistently shown that she never expects to inherit the family barony, I've assumed that she has enough older siblings that it'd take something disastrous for her to be at the top of the line of succession.

Judy is kind of wildly off the mark when it comes to Bogo and relationships, as his chapters have hopefully shown that he does indeed care quite deeply for his wife, but considering his relative stoicism I figure it's an understandable mistake for her to make.

As has been previously mentioned, nobles are not supposed to apologize to commoners for anything, making it surprising to both Nick and Judy when the princess apologizes to Nick for probing at a very personal topic. I figure that for this setting, more European-style rules are in play for marriage, although the Aztecs did practice polygamy for nobles while it was either uncommon or completely banned for commoners; it's unclear from the historical record which it was or if that changed one way or the other at some point. Considering that the city-state was taken over, however, I figured it made more sense for that to be one of the practices that stopped beginning with the reign of King Oveja I.

Bogo did observe the princess practicing at fencing earlier, and here we see that she takes it seriously enough to want to get better at it. And that she's afraid opponents let her win, which seems a reasonable fear for a princess to have.

As always, thanks for reading! If you're so inclined as to leave a comment, I'd love to know what you thought.