I know I say this at the beginning of just about every chapter, but thank you so much to everyone who has read, reviewed, favorited, and alerted this story. Also to those of you who have added me to your favorite authors. I feel all warm and fuzzy-wuzzy every time I pop in and find those little indications of how well some of you like my story. Thank you all very much!
Linda had not taken the news of Elliot's death well after Lyra revived her, having found her knocked unconscious by Nigel Ferret. Honestly, the princess was relieved to find Elliot's fiancé alone the way she had. It saved her the trouble of having to silence Ferret before he could deny the story she intended to tell about Elliot's demise and why there was no body for a decent burial. The heartbroken fool cried and wailed, unwittingly holding onto her beloved's murderer for nearly an hour. Patiently, the princess allowed the distraught woman to cling to her until her tears subsided long enough for her to thank the Hero for at least trying. "I know you did your best," she had said between sobs, "I suppose we were just too late and that bastard, Ferret, was worse than I would have guessed. Poor Elliot. He was a good man, you know. The best…"
It hadn't been easy for Lyra to conceal her true feelings on the matter, but she had done her best to comfort Linda. Luckily, Elliot's fiancé had mistaken the princess' shaking for rage directed towards Ferret when it had actually been the strain of keeping her inappropriate laughter to herself. By the time the poor woman had regained enough composure to exit the thugs' hideout and return to the shelter, she promised to spread the word of the princess' valiant efforts. Linda also swore allegiance to the rebellion, convinced that men like Nigel Ferret would soon be a thing of the past once Lyra took the throne. One woman added to the revolution wasn't much, but if Linda held any kind of sway in the community, she would be able to win others over to the cause as well. And, if nothing else, it would persuade Page to trust the king's sister.
Once that ordeal was behind her, Lyra set out to accomplish more feats of heroism, though none where quite as satisfactory or grand as the kidnapping affair had been. But as she wrangled a few of the district's criminals for the town guard and reluctantly handed over several thousand gold coins to the various tramps and orphans, she could not seem to shrug off the feeling that she had been betrayed by Walter. She was still unsure of how she would react when she returned to the resistance's hideout and came face to face with him. At one point she thought she might break down and cry after confronting him about Elliot, but the next moment she was imagining that she could do nothing less that slap him across his face and swear on her life that she'd kill him if he ever kept something like that from her again.
Eventually, Lyra could bear it no longer and decided that enough was enough. Surely by now, word of her exploits had reached the sewer rat. There wasn't much left to do in the city anyway, and she certainly wasn't going to go traipsing across the countryside and then wait weeks for conformation of her good deeds to make it back to Bowerstone. So, she descended once more into the sewers, passing Major Swift along the way. He said he was going to the castle to report to her brother, a terrible idea in her opinion, and would attempt to do a little spying in the process. They exchanged their farewells and then parted ways, Lyra heading deeper into filthy tunnels and Major Swift going topside.
Upon entering the makeshift strategy room, Lyra found that she had interrupted some amusing argument between the charming Ben Finn and the abrasive resistance leader. She ignored them, however, even as the captain begged Page to ask her if his hollow men story was true. Instead, she focused all of her attention on Walter, staring at him across the circular map. Well, perhaps 'glaring' would more accurately describe just what the princess was doing. The old knight didn't notice at first, too busy laughing at the humorous exchange between his two allies, but when he did take note of his protégé's icy gaze, his brow shot up in confusion. As the conversation between Ben and Page continued, Lyra and Walter simply looked at one another in silence.
"Fine," Ben said with a huff, "I'll just stand here quietly then, shall I?" Page rolled her eyes and turned away from the persistent man, finally acknowledging Lyra's presence and drawing the princess' attention away from Walter. "You know, for a princess, you're a pretty decent person. People out there are starting to believe in you. You'll forgive me for being wary before, but I had heard some unsavory details about you. I suppose I can pass them off as rumors now." "I knew you two would get along in the end," the old knight smirked. The resistance leader frowned at him and shook her head. "Thank you for taking an interest in my social life, but we have even bigger problems now." Walter's features shifted to match Page's seriousness and nodded. "Reaver."
Lyra's body tensed at the mention of that name and all thoughts of confronting Walter were pushed to the back of her mind. She cleared her throat and asked, "Reaver?" "He's been bleeding the city dry for years now, but it's never been this bad," Page said, "We decided it was time to hit back." "A small group of fighters managed to get into his mansion, but they never made it out," Walter added. The mocha-skinned woman nodded. "I believe they're alive. You're going to help me find them." The princess chewed her lower lip gently, unsure of whether she should be excited that she would undoubtedly see her idol again or feel anxious about going there to kill him.
"Reaver hosts some sort of fancy secret society party every week. We don't know what goes on, but we do know what the guests look like," Walter said, "It's the perfect chance to sneak in." Page then revealed a package she had stowed beside the map and offered it to Lyra. "Here, you'll have to wear this." The princess took the parcel, already guessing at what was inside. It was obviously some type of garment and she could only assume it was some kind of elegant gown. Reaver wasn't likely to throw a party for anyone on the lower ranks of society, after all. "Great," Ben grinned, clapping his hands together, "Where's my costume?" He received only a glare from the resistance leader, causing him to frown. "What? I still can't come? What, even after the three hollow men story? Honestly, this is as bad as the army."
Ignoring the man's complaint, Page simply pointed those present towards the door. "Now everyone out. I have a party to dress for." Both Walter and Lyra moved towards the exit while Ben lagged behind, putting on his most innocent smile as he said, "I'll stay and make sure no one spies on you." The princess laughed, turning to see how Page would react to the captain's generous offer. "Everyone. Out," the woman ordered, disappointing Lyra by not throwing something heavy at Ben's head. He shrugged and took off after Walter. "You know, I'm starting to have serious doubts about our relationship.
Page sighed while the soldier muttered something about how he should have gone with Major Swift to the castle. "I just love how soldiers can come in and out of our secret hideout now. Whatever you do, please don't let Mr. Finn follow you. I've had enough of him for one day. I'll see you at Reaver's Manor," she called to Lyra. The princess nodded, closing the door once she had stepped out of the room. She looked down the tunnel, staring after Walter and Ben as they headed further into the sewers. Her business with the knight would have to wait in light of this new turn of events, but she wasn't going to forget the anger she felt towards him anytime soon. In fact, it was likely only going to build the longer she kept it suppressed.
With a sigh, Lyra took out the Guild Seal and focused all of her Will into transporting herself and Boy to the Sanctuary where she was greeted by Jasper. "Welcome, madam. I see you have a new outfit there for the aforementioned party. I can only assume you've brought it here for alterations," he said, holding out his hands to take the package from the woman. "Yes. Take it and do… something with it," she said, waggling her fingers at it with a sneer, "I'm sure it's perfectly atrocious." The butler bowed and promptly made his way into the wardrobe while Lyra slumped against the wall beside Boy's basket. The collie looked up at her and whined softly, seeming to sense her anxiety.
The princess wasn't going to stoop to conversing with a dog, laying out all of her feelings for him to analyze, but she did slide down into a sitting position beside him and wrap her arm around his neck. Just as any good companion would do, Boy allowed his mistress to lean on him and rest her weary mind a while. She had just about dozed off when Jasper poked his head into the room and cleared his throat. "Your gown is ready, madam. If you would like to inspect it, please follow me," he said, disappearing back into the wardrobe. Groaning, Lyra ruffled Boy's ears and got to her feet to head in that direction.
"It came in a rather unbecoming shade of cream with robin's egg blue trim," the butler explained, leading her over to the mannequin dressed in a ball gown and masquerade mask, "Quite unfashionable. I've taken the liberty of dying it to compliment your personal color palette. I've chosen a winter scheme, as you can see, since I was afraid the pastels of summer wouldn't do your personality justice. I trust it is to your liking?" Lyra inspected the garment carefully and touched the sapphire tinted fabric gingerly, running her finger along the black trim. Indeed, it suited her personality and would certainly compliment her features nicely. "Excellent, Jasper. Thank you," she nodded, already loosening the belt of her trousers and kicking off her boots on her way to the changing screen.
Lyra draped her discarded clothes across the screen as Jasper brought the outfit over to her and handed the princess each article individually. "Oh, and I've repaired the holes in the mercenary top and jacket you brought in earlier as well," the attendant said, reminded by the scar on her left side, just below her ribcage, and the stitched area on her shoulder, "I trust your wounds are healing well?" Nodding, the woman glanced downwards at the injury on her shoulder that had been caused by a bullet. "You stitch flesh just about as well as you stitch cloth, Jasper," she mused, pulling the gown on over her head. "Well, it is something I've had a lot of practice in doing these past few months. I've added the bullet to your rather morbid collection in the trophy room, by the way. I labeled it 'Number Four'. I'm not eager to add a number five, so do be careful, won't you?"
The princess chuckled and pulled on the black stockings, trousers, and heeled shoes that accompanied the gown. "Now here are your wig and your hat," Jasper said, handing over the final pieces of the outfit. Once she had tucked her brunette locks beneath the powdered wig and donned the over-sized hat, the butler offered her the finishing touch. "And last, but not least. Your mask. I left this adorable little item its original shade of crimson and white. Who ever heard of a blue fox?" Lyra inspected it with a grin, quite liking the idea of being a vixen for one evening. She then tied the ribbon in a tight knot on the back of her head and moved over to the full-length mirror. "There's a lady behind that mask, that's the only thing of which I can be certain," the butler thought aloud. "Good. But I doubt he'll recognize me anyway."
A single, snowy brow quirked at Lyra's statement and she saw it on his face in the mirror, shaking her head before he could ask. "Nothing," she said, "The dress is perfect, Jasper. Now I need to get to Millfields. Probably already late." The man simply bowed and then began tidying up as the princess took her leave. She gathered her sword and pistol before re-entering the main area of the Sanctuary. Boy trotted over to her side, wagging his tail as her finger glided across the surface of the circular map. "No, Boy," she said, her finger coming to rest on Bower Lake, "You need to stay here this time. I highly doubt a dog, no matter how handsome, would be invited to the party." With a disappointed snort, the collie returned to his basket and plopped down to pout as Lyra used the map to transport herself to Millfields.
Lyra arrived on the lovely gazebo at the center of the lake in a beam of sparkling light. After getting her bearings, she breathed a sigh of relief when she realized how close she had come to ending up in the lake. The Sanctuary had a mind of its own when it came to transportation. Sure, it would get her into the general area, but she was never quite sure where she would end up. More often than not, it landed her in everything from chicken coops to horse stables and pig sties. That was why she used it sparingly. Besides, half the fun of being a Hero was exploring and she couldn't do that if she continuously relied on magical transportation. But for now, she had better things to do than ponder the pros and cons of fast travel.
The princess turned to gaze across the moon-reflecting waters towards the largest manor in Millfields. She could just barely make out the sound of music, laughter, and depraved conversation spilling out into the night, echoing across the otherwise peaceful lake. It was definitely a party she could see herself attending, but not with the undesirable task of killing Reaver. Of course, she wasn't so sure a man like that could be killed. At least not by the likes of her and the sewer rat. He was a Hero, just like her, but had had a lot more practice in the role than Lyra. Centuries of practice, in fact. It promised to be an eventful evening, if nothing else. So, she gathered up the hem of her gown, unaccustomed to dealing with so much fabric, and stalked across the bridge towards the shore.
So, next chapter: Masquerade time. Anyone else wish it would have been more like a ball instead of us getting all dressed up only to be mauled by various critters? You're able to dance with people in the game, for crying out loud! If you can't do it at an actual ball, the whole option to dance just seems pointless to me. *nods* Unfortunately, I will be resisting the urge to add any such dancing scenes to this fic. I'm trying to stay as close to the main story as possible, just tweaking a few things for the sake of keeping Lyra in evil character. And adding some stuff between the different portions of the main storyline. Anyway, enough 4 a.m. rambling, Werewolf Masquerade. Onward!