If you couldn't tell by my last few chapters, I'm a huge Dryden fan.Expect him to play a larger part in this than he did in the original. Also in the future, I promise more Allen. But today is Van's day.

Thanks again to everyone who's been following this story and especially to Nielawen. I'mflattered by your praise! Feel free to continue to inflate my ego. :)

Enjoy chapter 6 everyone.

-sor

Chapter 6

Van Fanel had not been placated by Dryden's insistence that the time had not yet come to worry. In fact, the man's words of 'comfort' had only succeeded in worrying him all the more. Dryden was a shrewd businessman, yes, but he was too soon to the throne to be an equally shrewd politician. Not that Van counted himself among the ranks of great politicians, but he'd spent considerable time attempting to master some aspect of it.

It was times like this he wished he hadn't run away from his lessons so often as a boy… when he'd never wanted to be king. When he'd rolled his eyes at Balgus and evaded his tutors with familiar ease. Thanks to his foolishness all those years ago, now he was forced into late nights, pouring over texts detailing histories and intricate political alliances. It didn't help matters that he hated studying even more now than he had as a boy.

He didn't recall much of the Madoushi. Only what Folken had recorded during his brief time in Asturia and that information was outdated. Most of those men were dead. Most of the technology destroyed. Useless, all of it. Even so, he doubted Dryden was right when he said Zaibach was too desperate to consider treachery. There was no such thing as being too desperate for treachery, especially when you were Madoushi.

Unconscious thought had brought him eventually to the gilded hallways leading to the private suites of those nobles who opted to stay in the palace. Van had temporary quarters there, but he wasn't ready to return to his rooms just yet. What would he do there but sit and stew in his own worries for the length of the afternoon?

The hallway led also to one of the many outdoor pavilions used for entertaining guests in the warm summer evenings. It stood empty now, but within the hour there were sure to be servants bustling about, preparing for that evening's after dinner conversation. He still didn't understand what it was with Asturia and all her ridiculous formalities. Supper in multiple courses. After dinner tea. After tea dancing. He was still trying to find some way out of it all.

A number of large windows lined the hallway, giving it a feeling of open air, especially when the shades were pulled and the windows opened. In the summer months, the windows remained open, creating a cross breeze throughout the hallway and driving away some of the stuffy summer heat. The breeze came in from the sea and even inside the palace, the faint smell of salt hung in the air. It was yet another of those tiny things that made the great port city of Palas so foreign to a boy raised in mountain and forest. It made him homesick for the fresh, clear air that blew down through the valleys.

Eyes swept over the pavilion and into the gardens beyond. As always, the gardens were permeated with nobles in their light and airy afternoon attire, wandering casually among the blossoming flowers. Those slow, measured strides marking them as Asturian, even when they assumed no one was watching. That was why it was so easy for him to pick out the only pair in the garden that was decidedly not Asturian.

The boy was fair and delicate, but a bit too exuberant to have been raised in one of the stuffiest societies to ever grace Gaea's earth. He smiled too brightly and moved too freely. He turned backwards to walk, facing his companion, a dark-haired girl of no more than fifteen, arm waving this way and that to indicate one thing or another, as if he were giving the girl a grand tour without words.

The girl, in turn, seemed completely intrigued by the boy and his wild gesturing, a look of light concentration on her face, intent upon following his meaning. Now and then she would interrupt him, presumably to ask for clarification, because after such a pause the boy would consider, then offer a series of gestures again, but more slowly and deliberately, after which, the girl would nod and they would continue on their way.

Van watched the pair for a time, finding himself beginning to pick up on the odd language of gestures the boy used, which included a few gestures he had probably not been meant to see. Things that donated a certain dislike for their hosts, such as the boy thumbing his nose in the air and strutting about, which made the girl giggle madly.

They were making fun of Asturia. Van had to like them a touch, if only for that.

"They're part of the Zaibach delegation."

The soft, feminine voice at his side made Van turn with a start. He'd been under the impression the hallway was deserted, but here he found himself face to face once more with the soft smile and bright eyes of Celena Schezar.

Damn that girl and her soft footsteps!

She only laughed at his surprise and took a few steps closer to stand at his side and peer out the window. "The man is a servant of the chief Madoushi, Aldon." She, too, watched the boy with a faint glint of amusement in her eyes, though she had no doubt seen his mocking of Asturian nobles. The insults did not seem to phase her as she was more intent upon imparting her wisdom on Van, whose expression changed every moment by leaps and bounds.

"A Zaibach servant?"

"Of course, rumors would have you believe the old man used him for more than cleaning house, but it is completely unfounded. It's more likely Daien was brought along to entertain Aldon's granddaughter." She gestured faintly towards the girl.

"Granddaughter?" The mere thought of that old prune Aldon having any family at all was enough to startle the Fanelian King, but to think he could manage to produce offspring that seemed so pleasant… Obviously the girl had not inherited the Madoushi's awful, sour moods.

"She has been under his care since the civil war, or so he claims. He claims her parents were killed in the conflicts with the militarists. Some ridiculous attack on the civilian quarters around the Madoushi tower." Celena shook her head, one arm planted firmly on a hip in a manner that gave the girl a rather uncomfortable resemblance to Dilandau Albatou. "I don't believe it, though."

Van considered the girl, brows creased in thought. He had seen more than he liked of Aldon from across the meeting table and he had to admit that the girl possessed none of the man's rather distinctive features. Nothing about her remotely resembled a constipated weasel. "You don't believe she's his granddaughter?"

"That, I'm not sure about." The young woman's brow wrinkled. She didn't seem too happy with herself, though Van could not figure out why. She seemed to have figured out quite a bit more than he could have ever hoped to. It seemed he had underestimated the girl, classifying her as Allen's sister and assuming her to be a bit innocent. Or at least a bit childish, as she had been when she'd first returned to Asturia. But no. Celena Schezar was sharp and observant. More so than Van could have ever imagined.

"The civil war in Zaibach was an awful ordeal, at least from what I can tell. Most records are closed and the details held by the Madoushi. Convenient, when much of what they base their negotiations on are matters hidden behind secret oaths. They claim to not wish to revisit such a harsh period and only to move on. I might be inclined to believe it, too, if they did not produce such lies." She shook her head, blue eyes following the pair who toured the gardens.

"That girl is no relation to Aldon. The story about her origins is unbelievable at best. The militarists would never have attacked civilians so openly, Madoushi allies or no. The ruthless practices that went on two years ago were under Dornkirk's guidance. The four great generals of Zaibach disliked his methods. They protested the destruction of Fanelia and Fried." She sniffed sharply at this, as if a part of her thought this relative compassion of the generals was a sign of weakness. She did not, however, seem to realize she'd done such a thing, but merely continued.

"If they found such tactics distasteful when propagated against enemies, why would they use them against their own people? Many of whom had served the military in the past? It is uncharacteristic. Granddaughter or not, there is some lie surrounding that girl. I don't trust it one bit."

Silence followed the young woman's speech as the pair watched the supposed granddaughter and her guide reach the end of the garden path, where they paused a moment before slipping away into the bushes, hands clasped like two children playing at adventure games.

Celena, whose demeanor had turned again to the rather bright, exuberant lady who had pursued him the night before, giggled softly at the departure. "He likes her. Can you tell? The way he smiles at her and holds her hand. If I had any care at all for Zaibach, I'd admit that it was almost sweet." Mistrust, it seemed, had colored her appreciation of a pair of young prospective lovers.

Van, though, hadn't noticed a bit of it. He blinked slowly, regarding Celena with a bit of confusion. He hadn't noticed anything about the duo to suggest any affection at all between them. But rather than inquire further as to how she'd managed to deduce such a thing, Van turned his focus on more sour topics. "Why should it matter if Aldon's granddaughter is running through the gardens with his servant? That's his problem to deal with."

"Maybe so, but still it's something worth noting." She turned his way with a little hop, threading her arm through his in a gesture that caught Van quite off guard. The girl's abrupt mood swings left him feeling more than uncomfortable. With another it might have been different, but knowing what she had once been brought a new element to any change in her emotional state.

His thoughts were interrupted when Celena gave his arm a light tug, pulling him towards the doorway that led out to the pavilion. "Come on. Enough of this boring talk. I'm sure you've been up to your ears in it all morning. I'll give you your own tour of the gardens and we can talk about how silly the women's fashions are this year." There was laughter in her eyes once more and for once, Van found himself grateful for the company of an Asturian noblewoman.

"All right. It'll be fun."

xxxx

"Celena Schezar." The name was voiced with a hint of humor as the pair of Madoushi observed the girl from afar. Emil at his side, Corbett had opted to walk off a bit of the tension brought about by morning talks. Really, things had not gone badly, but Aldon was a loud blowhard and insisted upon doing all the talking himself. Really, as talented as the man might be in science, he was a horrid negotiator. Corbett would have been lying to say he did not think every minute about sending the old fool back to Zaibach where he belonged.

Preferably, sending him back in a box.

The pair had watched the Fanelian king and the Asturian noblewoman while they shared their little chat until they finally vanished out onto the pavilion and beyond. Only then did Corbett judge it safe to speak. He did not intend to draw any ill will from their hosts, nor from the rulers of countries who had every right to hold a long standing grudge against Zaibach. Their battle was an uphill one already without sending Van Fanel into a fury.

"So that's the girl Aldon is obsessing over?" He shook his head slightly, sending long strands of honey blonde tumbling over his collar. Aldon was a fool. He thought himself very clever in his observations of the girl, but Corbett had followed each and every time, noting how hungrily the older man watched a girl young enough to be his granddaughter. What an old pervert. To think that he had been chosen to lead the order!

No, that wasn't quite true. No one had chosen Aldon. Aldon had chosen himself, proclaiming his age and experience and using them as banners to illustrate his obvious leadership qualities. Well, if such qualities were present, Corbett had not seen them. Already the man was making a mess of negotiations.

It seemed obvious to the youngest of the delegates exactly how to deal with Dryden Fassa. The man was an intellectual who adored a good discussion and could be easily swayed by good trade benefits. It would be most beneficial for Zaibach were they to finish negotiations quickly before Dryden Fassa learned to be a king and not a merchant. Aldon, though, did not seem to realize this.

All that bullshit about age and wisdom? It was just that. Bullshit.

At his side, Emil smirked, shaking his head. "So does that mean you'll be obsessing over her as well simply so you can do it better?"

The younger Madoushi had to laugh. If he was only a substandard Madoushi, Emil had a fair sense of humor and a likeable quality not found in many of their elder colleagues. It would serve them well in the months to come. The tower was bursting with young, eager students who were not quickly warming to the old ways of silence and indifference. They would easily welcome one of their own above one of the old men.

"Perhaps," Corbett clamped a hand firmly on his friend's shoulder for a moment before stepping forward towards the windows the girl had been standing beside moments before. "Or perhaps my obsession is to seeing that Aldon does not get a single thing he wants." From the window he could see the pair moving through the gardens, the girl laughing brightly despite the awkward, uncomfortable air that hung over the Fanelian lad like a cloud.

"Any idea why he wants her so badly?" Emil had followed, even chuckling a bit at the expression Van Fanel wore every time the girl looked his way.

Corbett's amusement faded. "No. Not even an inkling. It worries me, these secrets he keeps. If he plans to withhold Madoushi secrets even from his fellow Madoushi, should he not be reprimanded? He would do such a thing to us in half a heartbeat."

"Be careful, Corbett." The older man's jovial expression had faded and he now regarded his friend with furrowed, thoughtful brows. "You have the students on your side, but there are still many men left from the old regime who would hate another disruption. You could very well plunge us into another civil war and leave the tower wide open to a military invasion. That damn tribunal won't rest on their laurels much longer."

He would have gone on had Corbett not silenced him with a gentle, but sharp gesture. Emil was a good ally, though he tended to speak too much at times. "These things can wait until we have the funds we need." His hand retreated within the folds of his cloak, grey gaze turning to follow the young couple through the gardens. "For now, I must see to arranging some time in the library for tomorrow."

"Books again, Corbett? There aren't enough books in the tower for you?"

Again, the youth smiled, though this time there was something less than humorous in the expression. "I'm not after books."