Part Three

Gouya glided through the dark hallway. This particular passage was locked off from the rest of the building; only she could enter. She was carrying a tray laden with food, water, and a candle to light the way. She reached her destination, and after entering a complex key into the console set in front of the door, went inside.

There was a fat, round-faced man lying in the bed that took up most of the room. There were no windows, and the walls were thick to block out sound and invaders. A few lamps were the only other furnishings in the small room. There were thick velvet hangings on either side of the bed, the walls, as well as a heavy canopy over the man's head.

"Gouya!" The man cried weakly. "I hurt. Make it better."

"Ichi sent this for you, Sanji. It will make you better." Gouya hid her distaste for Sanji as she laid the tray before him. He picked up the fork and began to eat messily, spreading food all over his face. Ichi had always done this with barely hidden disgust, but Gouya strove to appear kind in the hopes that Sanji would recommend her to Ichi.

It was a foolish notion, of course, and normally Gouya wasn't given to such things. But Ichi was different. From the very beginning, he had been unlike anyone else, and he had had an effect on her that no other man could ever dream of having. It wasn't that she was too proud to marry-if she had never met Ichi, it would have been a priority. But the fall of the Sun Empire had left her with a kingdom to rebuild and nothing else.

But long ago, when the moon was just a white rock, the Sun Empire had been feared and respected and renowned throughout the galaxy. Visitors passed through the royal place constantly, trying themselves against Solarian warriors and offering goods and services to the Empress and Emperor. She had been the Solar Princess then, a girl with a closet of fine dresses and a collection of sharp daggers.

Ichi had visited with his parents and little brother. While the whole of the palace puzzled over his parents' bizarre behavior, Ichi remained aloof. His brother Sanji was an embarrassment, an immature, whiny, stupid boy who ate constantly and giggled like a little girl. He worshiped Ichi, however and Ichi, rather than cut him down as Gouya would have done, let him be.

She hadn't understood why at first. Then she'd heard Ichi talk to Sanji in private.

As it turned out, the reason Ichi's parents were so weird was that they had been controlled by Sanji for almost five years. They had long since lost all their natural resistance and were mentally damaged beyond all repair. Sanji's ridiculous and humiliating behavior was a result of brain damage caused by his powers awakening early; because of this, he was easily manipulated by his older brother. Ichi understood Sanji's enormous power; while he hadn't inherited it, as Sanji had, he had inherited immunity to it. So he used his brother to get what he wanted.

And Ichi had plans. He was preparing to murder his own parents, take over their business, and move it into the black market, where upon he could establish his own criminal empire. And Gouya, listening to him talk, had been both repulsed and fascinated. She was convinced he could do it. She watched as he worked his way up, sometimes thinking of interfering but never actually doing anything.

And somewhere along the way, she found herself attracted to him. Ichi understood that. He was clever, and he used her. Gouya knew she was his pawn.

And yet she helped him. Until the Empire fell, defeated by conquered lands. Until they retreated into the sun and Ichi left, no longer needing her. She had thought he was beyond her reach, but she had woken back up and found him waiting. He had use for her now.

And so she had committed monstrosities for him. Betraying her people, whom she was meant to defend and lead well; even bearing his disgusting pig of brother's children so that if Sanji died, ill as he had become, there would hopefully be an heir who inherited the mind control powers and who Ichi could use.

Neither Keisa nor Mousa had the power. They were failures, and looking at them reminded her of her shame-she, Sun Queen Gouya, reduced to bedding filth like Sanji just for the meanest praise from Ichi. It was true, and she hated herself. But she loved him more.

Sanji wailed, and she moved numbly to attend to him.

Keisa and Mousa sat on the edges of their beds, listening to Mamoru talk. He was telling them about the annual festival celebrating the founding of Crystal Tokyo, when the ice age had ended and the newly-ascended Neo Queen had awakened the people. They had come together in the center of the ruins of Tokyo, and from the melting ice a city of crystal had been born. There was still a marker where he and Serenity had been frozen, arm in arm.

"It rains flower petals." Mousa repeated. "How does that work?"

"The King does it every year." Mamoru felt odd referring to himself in the third person. He did in fact make it rain flower petals every year, although what flower was decided by a committee. It occurred to him that Helios would have to do it this year. "Sometimes the princess helps."

"But why would anyone want it to rain flower petals?" Mousa asked, exasperated.

"To celebrate the fact that the three years of hail and snow are over." Mamoru tried to explain. But he knew it was difficult for the two Solarians to understand what purpose raining flowers would have-after all, this was a military based society. He went on to describe the parades, and the speech given by the monarchs, and the adornment of the marker in the center of the city by children.

The two listened, and Keisa was particularly interested to hear that many weddings were held after the festival, since it was considered an auspicious time to get married.

"But what if your father doesn't give consent?" Keisa asked. "Marriage agreements can take months to work out."

"Not on Earth. You don't need your parents' consent to get married, and there aren't contracts the way there are here. You just have to register with the government and make a pledge to each other."

"But…" Mousa frowned. "Why bother getting married if you aren't getting anything out of it?"

"People get married because they fall in love." Mamoru replied. "That's all."

There was a knock at the door. The three looked up, and the door was swung back to reveal Gouya, her expression cool with anger. She was wearing forest green armor and carrying a long metal pole with a cluster of spikes at the end.

"Do not fill their minds with nonsense." Gouya snapped. "At least teach them something useful. And come with me." Mamoru got up and followed her out; she hid her irritation well, so that her stride was no tighter than usual. They went down into the memory-viewing chamber.

"It's early." He remarked. She nodded tersely; Ichi would be arriving soon, and she hadn't managed to secure any useful information for him. She handed him the band to wear over his head, and he did so.

The screen flickered to life. This time, however, it wasn't a school text from the old days but an actual memory. Gouya watched as Mamoru recalled the face of his pink-haired, stubborn daughter as she sat on a bench in the garden, her legs swinging idly as she pointedly didn't look at her father.

"Are you going to sulk all night, Chibiusa?" Neo King Endymion asked. "It'll get chilly."

"Mama doesn't like me." She replied fiercely. "She doesn't-she couldn't! Otherwise…she would let me go…"

"Go where? On the diplomatic mission to the next system?"

"I want to go! I'm the stupid Princess, remember? It's my job to do things like this. I'm all grown up and-"

"That is why your mother won't let you go." Endymion said sternly. "Because this is a diplomatic mission, Chibiusa, which calls for tact and being thick-skinned. A Princess who goes off and sulks whenever her parents tell her 'no' isn't ready to handle the delicate process of interplanetary relations. Especially one who thinks age is a substitute for maturity, and who insists on hurting her mother's feelings."

Chibiusa froze, looking down guiltily at her legs. They were white and slim, so that she stood as tall as her mother in her traditional white heels, and she'd delighted in staring at herself in the mirror these past few months now that adolescence was over. She was so pretty and adult-looking, like a real princess. Silly to think that way, but she'd been a child for so long.

Her mother, even now, seemed faraway. Usagi had made perfect sense to her, but Neo Queen Serenity was a mystery-all soft smiles and gentle grace. She was flawless, like a painting, and always right besides. Chibiusa adored her mother, admired her mother, but constantly felt inadequate in comparison to her. She was inevitably ashamed under her mother's sweet, understanding gaze and her kind, reassuring words.

"…is Mama mad?"

"No." Endymion waited patiently for Chibiusa's familiar expression; shame and pride twisted together, as she prepared to apologize. "She's just- sad. She thinks her only child hates her guts."

"I love Mama. But she's not…real to me. I can't explain it…and I can never understand her until it's too late and I've said hateful things."

"Better late than never, Chibiusa. Go and say sorry to her."

The screen flickered off. Gouya scowled heavily- she had the distinct sense that Endymion had been trying to make a point to her. He pulled off the metal band and made for the door, but she stopped with a raised hand. The fact that he hadn't cared about offending her intrigued her.

"What do you know about my children?" She asked softly. "Nothing."

"Nothing." Mamoru agreed. "Except that they think you hate them, and that you've neglected them."

"Neglect, perhaps. Hate is too strong a word…I am indifferent to them for now. Their behavior, their unrefinement, it annoys me."

"They say they've never been taught, although your daughter gets most of her gossip from a Lord Sarad, and your son is skilled at stealing books about weaponry and warfare."

Gouya raised her eyebrows in frank surprise. "Really."

"Really. They might benefit from a real tutor."

"What's the point? Children of their…descent…are not eligible to rule this kingdom. No doubt they will muddle along somehow."

"So you take your feelings about the father out on the children." He mused out loud. Gouya looked up sharply. Her children were failures, it was true, marked so by the fact of their birth-her failure to secure Ichi's love, her failure to hang on to her own dignity, her failure to birth proper children, and secretly, her failure to raise them.

How dare he?

"And your spoiled, willful brat of a child?"

"My 'spoiled, willful' child is not perfect," Mamoru admitted. "But I love her and do my best for her, rather than ignoring her because she fails to meet my expectations."

"How will a child, so softly raised, meet the harshness of ruling?" Gouya asked. "If I had heirs who were worthy-"

"You shouldn't blame your children for the circumstances of their conception. It's not their fault."

Gouya scowled, feeling the insult despite herself. Not their fault, indeed- well, she was the finest stock in the royal family, and Ichi was hardly some common fool, and Sanji had to have some of his...No, there was something just wrong with her children. She had given them the best bloodline possible, and yet they had failed to meet her expectations. Gouya was loathe to admit to herself that she had been unable to produce the right children for Ichi, in front of Mamoru.

"What could they have possibly needed besides my blood?" Gouya asked, not realizing, for a moment, that she spoke aloud. It had been too long since anyone questioned her about the children; they were secrets, and her position as Queen was held secure by her reputation, enough that she could keep them that way. There were those who sought power, but the power they desired as always a result of her favor.

"Your attention. Children are deeply affected by their fifteen or so years of life."

"Then mine are doomed to small lives, as they have ceased to learn anything from me."

"When did you ever try to teach them?"

"I taught by example."

"When were you ever around to provide the example?" Mamoru asked. "Mousa and Keisa never see you."

"They are useless to me." Gouya snapped. "As you are beginning to be."

"You want a war so badly that you would risk killing me?" Mamoru raised an eyebrow. "That seems dishonorable."

"You are no warrior."

"My planet has found peace now that those who seek to destroy are gone."

"Your peace makes you weak." Gouya spat. "Return to the children's quarters."

Mamoru bowed and left; Gouya stared after him for a long while. The image of that pink-haired girl, reaching out pathetically for her father's guidance, lingered for far longer than it should.