Jupiter hummed contentedly to herself as she stirred a gigantic vat of strawberry pudding. Flecks of flour from her earlier confectionery exploits dotted her cheeks and clung to her hair, which was swept up in a tight sock bun. A multitude of sweet smells drifted up from the Crystal Palace kitchen's massive, seven-rack convection oven, promising delicious things to come. She had really pulled out all the stops this time; after all, it was not every day that the princess of the Solar system turned nine hundred and thirteen.

Beside her, Serenity and Venus scrolled through fabric swatches on their tablets, trying to pick linens for tonight's dinner. The royal banquet hall was decked out with the latest generation of nano-dyed fabrics. The same tablecloth could be paisley one day and polka-dot the next, tangerine for breakfast and sunset orange for dinner (and yes, there was a difference, no matter what Endymion said.) It was simply a matter of downloading the desired pattern, and allowing a few hours for the dye molecules to restructure themselves. The newer ones could even change texture. All these options had not made it any easier for Serenity to make up her mind.

"What do you think of this one?" Venus suggested.

The queen glanced at it for half a second and shook her head. "Nah, not pink."

"Huh? Isn't it her favorite color? Or is she going through that usual teenage pink-is-stupid phase?"

"No, it's just that everything else is already pink. It's going to look like the banquet hall's made of bubblegum."

"I see your point. How about classic white?"

"Boring."

"A nice light butter yellow, maybe?"

"Too childish."

"Gold?"

"Too gaudy."

"Hm… black satin?"

"Too Victoria's Secret."

Venus sighed and stood up to stretch. She'd long believed that no one could be as persnickety as Artemis, but right now, Serenity was giving him a run for his money.

"Whatever you choose, I'm sure Usagi-chan will be thrilled," Jupiter reassured the queen.

Venus's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Especially if a certain someone shows up."

Serenity didn't know whether to laugh or groan. "One can only hope. But please don't mention him in front of her."

"Ah, come on. A little harmless teasing isn't going to hurt her. Usa and Helios, sittin' in a tree!" the blond senshi sang, twirling around the kitchen and laughing at her own silliness. "She might pretend to be annoyed, but you can tell she likes the idea."

"That's why it's best not to get her hopes up," Jupiter reasoned. "Imagine her disappointment if he didn't come."

"Of course he'll come!" A pause. "We did invite him, didn't we?"

"Venus, it's not as if you can just mail a letter to Elysion," the queen pointed out.

"Sure, but your husband can contact him. They have that telepathic spiritual bond… thing."

Worry stirred in Serenity's eyes. "He's tried, several times. Helios never answers us, and Endymion can't even feel his presence anymore. It's like he's vanished from Elysion entirely."

"Ohh." Venus's enthusiasm deflated in an instant. She plopped into a chair and pouted. "Boys. They're so fickle at that age."

Serenity looked upset at the implication. "We're just worried about him. Helios wouldn't shirk his responsibilities over something like that."

"Maybe there are places in Elysion where the king's summons can't reach," Jupiter reasoned.

"That's what we thought. I just hope we find him soon," Serenity sighed. "Anyway, I don't believe he would have forgotten about Usagi-chan."

"Not forgotten, no," said Venus. "But are his feelings still the same as they were back then? Absence makes the heart go wander, you know."

Jupiter rolled her eyes. "That's not even—oh, never mind. Ten seconds ago you had so much faith in him!"

"It's my policy to keep realistic expectations."

"Mmhm," said Jupiter, not sounding at all convinced.

"In life, there are disappointments. C'est la vie. A woman has to learn to face these things head-on. It's because I'm realistic that I can be optimistic until the end."

Serenity stuck out her tongue at her friend. "Not everybody gets over their first love as quickly as you, V-chan."

"Ouch." Venus pretended to dust herself off. "Well, fine, she's your kid. Shelter her for a little longer if you think that's best. But when she's ready to move on, send her to Aunt Venus. I'll fix her up with a cutie."

"Or seven," Jupiter said with a dry smirk.

Venus smacked her lightly on the arm. "Would I do that?"

"Yes," Jupiter and Serenity replied in unison.

"Not until she's older," Venus said, wagging a finger. "Gotta learn to walk before you can run."

"Some people are natural born runners, I guess," Jupiter remarked with a too-innocent air. "Let's see…If I recall, your little 'marathon' started because Mars teased you about having a man for each day of the week."

"I took it as a personal challenge." Venus tossed her luxurious golden tresses. "And none of them ever found out about each other."

"You are not teaching my daughter how to juggle seven boyfriends," Serenity said in an end-of-discussion tone of voice. Suddenly, her eyes lit up at something on the tablet screen. "Ah! I like this one."

Venus and Jupiter peered over her shoulder. They glanced at the queen, then at each other, then back at the pattern on the screen.

"…That one?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"There will be foreign dignitaries present," Jupiter reminded her.

Serenity played her trump card. "It's my birthday."

Her guardians sighed in defeat.

The doors of the 10:14 to South Chiyoda slid open, and a pair of pink cone-shaped odango bobbed out atop a sea of gray and black salaryman's hats. The girl attached to them tried to shove her way through the crowd as politely as possible. She was running ten minutes behind schedule, which she did not like.

She was so intent on the time that she didn't notice the man in the black windbreaker following her. Like a shark on the prowl he glided through the maze of platforms and gates, keeping back just far enough to escape her notice. He waited until they exited the station onto the (relatively) open air of the street to accost her.

"Excuse me, Your Highness. I was wondering if you'd be willing to grant us a short interview. People have a lot of questions about the incident last weekend."

She took him in at a glance—average height, nondescript brown hair, snooty sunglasses, pencil stuck behind his ear. Her eyes came to rest on the logo that was emblazoned on his jacket and matching visor: the Neo-Tokyo Star, an "edgy" independent rag notorious for running heavy on sensationalism and light on reliable sources. He was the third one today, and in spite of her efforts to be polite, her narrowed eyes made it clear that she was in no mood.

"I'm sorry, but I'm in a hurry," she replied, quickening her footsteps.

He matched her stride. "Just a few questions!"

Great, she thought, a persistent one. At least the guys from Crystal NHK had known how to take a hint. She spun on her heel, intending to tell him off, and found herself facing an entire camera crew. Horrified, she turned to run, but more of them had closed in behind her. An ambush.

There were at least half a dozen microphones in her face now. This must have been a coordinated effort by every sleazy tabloid and news station in the city.

"Princess, how do you respond to the allegations that you used your family's influence to avoid criminal assault charges?" the reporter from the Star asked. Without giving her a chance to respond, he went on, "Is it true that you attacked the young man because he criticized the Silver Alliance?"

She gaped, at a loss for words. The other newshounds started to talk over one another in their eagerness to get their sound bytes. There was nowhere to run, and her silence was making the royal family look bad. But how could she dignify such a question with a response?

"Excuse me," a girl's voice interrupted from the street, somehow cutting through the din of the reporters' questions. Her auburn curls bounced as she pushed past the cameras, marching right up to the man from the Star. "Demanding an interview without even introducing yourself? Shoving a camera in someone's face without permission? And then badgering your subject with loaded questions that are clearly designed to inject your own viewpoint into the discussion? Totally unprofessional. I'm just the editor of a high school class newsletter, and even I know that." She spun to face the cameras, wagging her finger in a scolding gesture. "Shame on you all!"

In the stunned silence that followed, the two girls made a hasty exit. They ducked into the nearest building, which happened to be a health food store. Only then did they allow themselves a collective sigh of relief.

"Are you okay, Tsukino-sama?"

The other girl didn't respond for a moment, then suddenly gave a start and nodded. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you for saving me back there… may I ask your name?"

The auburn-haired girl looked vexed. "Er, it's me, Souga. Souga Miruki? Your classmate?" Miruki said slowly, searching the other girl's pink eyes for any spark of recognition. It was true that she and Usagi weren't all that close, but…

But Usagi's eyes weren't pink.

"You're a decoy!" she burst out.

Seresu couldn't stop herself from flinching. She hadn't expected to be caught so easily. It was just her luck, in this city of half a billion people, to cross paths with someone who saw Usagi almost every day. Hurriedly shushing the girl, she pulled behind a shelf of herbal supplements. Luckily, there were no customers in the store, and the lone clerk was jamming to tunes on his CrystalPod and completely ignoring them.

"Calm down," she whispered. "Yes, I'm a decoy. Occasionally, after incidents that are likely to attract a lot of unwanted attention, the queen will hire body doubles to protect the royal family."

"I can understand why with sleaze-balls like that running around. I don't know what really happened down at that show, but I do know that there hasn't been an iota of fair, impartial coverage."

"You're telling me. The princess didn't do anything wrong, but all these strangers with their opinions are judging her. It's been pretty hard on her," said Seresu. As she spoke her mind whirled, searching for an escape. Could she outrun Miruki? She had to get away, before this girl deduced anything else.

But it was too late. Miruki's hypothesis was off and running. "I don't think you're just a hired guard. For one, you're awfully young. And you talk as if you're familiar with the royal family on a personal level." Her face lit up with the thrill of an epiphany. "You're one of those new sailor senshi, aren't you?"

Seresu started to walk away from her. "Weren't you the one lecturing those guys about being too pushy?"

"Sorry. I didn't mean to—look, I won't print anything about it in the Herald. I won't tell anyone, swear. I just need to know one thing. Is Sailor Moon real?"

Seresu whirled and looked Miruki in the eye with sudden intensity that froze the young reporter in her tracks. "Do you care about Usagi-chan?"

Swallowing hard, Miruki nodded. "Of course I do."

"Then don't go any further down this rabbit hole."

At first, Miruki was too surprised to say anything. She looked away, and Seresu was about to leave, but a low murmur from the other girl stopped her.

"My boyfriend broke up with me." Miruki tried to look indifferent, but her lip trembled. "He doesn't believe me that I saw Sailor Moon. He says I'm obsessed, that I need to let it go. That he can't be with someone who's out of touch with reality."

Seresu softened. She knew she had to make Miruki stop her investigation—for her own sake as much as the senshi's—but she couldn't help feeling sorry for her. Particularly when she was one of the few people in the world who knew Miruki was right.

The auburn-haired girl blinked hard. "Just when I thought I was falling for him."

"Good riddance," Seresu declared. Miruki looked stricken, but she went on, "Maybe Sailor Moon is real, and maybe she isn't. It's only a rumor. But your boyfriend should believe you, even if you can't prove it. If he doesn't, then you're better off without him."

Miruki regarded her with a doleful expression, one that said, you don't understand what I've lost.

Seresu grew suddenly agitated. Miruki may have sacrificed her relationship on her quest for the truth, but that was her choice, for a personal ambition. Seresu had no chance of ever having a normal relationship, or a normal life, because she'd been saddled from birth with a duty much larger than herself. It was an honor, and the honor was greater than the burden. But she did know what sacrifice was.

Murmuring a terse goodbye, she left the store.

Meanwhile, Usagi was relaxing on a park bench under one of the maple trees that dotted the Crystal Palace's front lawn. Her favorite manga magazine lay in her lap, unopened. She gazed out across the grassy expanse with vacant eyes. Try as she might, she couldn't stop reliving the events of the previous weekend.

Once everything had calmed down and Usagi was safe at home, her guardian senshi had gone back to the police to explain what had really happened. When the truth came out, supported by one of the arena's security cameras, that the young man had been molesting Usagi and her friends when the "assault" occurred, they had thrown out his complaint. One sergeant went so far as to suggest (off the record) that Seresu should let Junko break a few limbs next time. Now Usagi had the chance to press charges, and she knew she probably should, but something held her back.

"I know what you're thinking," said a rough but friendly voice from somewhere above. Junko swung down from the tree where she'd been lounging and dropped onto the bench beside Usagi. "If it's not my fault, why do I feel so awful?"

Usagi nodded imperceptibly. "I know that guy was the one to blame, in the end, but… I still could've handled it better."

Junko rubbed the back of her neck. "Heh. You're not the one who kicked a cop in the nuts."

Usagi almost snickered, but sobered when she remembered that Junko had felt obligated to turn herself in afterwards. "Your hearing was yesterday, wasn't it? How did it go?"

"About as well as I could hope. I didn't have a record, so the state agreed to drop the felony charge in exchange for a nice handwritten apology note to Sato-san and his hypothetical future children whose existence I may have thwarted." The smug look on Junko's face showed exactly how sincere the apology had been. "And I got six weeks of community service for the, uh, public disorderly something-or-other. They said I could serve it by helping with the disaster relief, and I was gonna do that anyway, so it's all good."

Usagi played with a strand of her hair. "Seresu said it's all taken care of, but I'm still uneasy. Maybe I should have—hey!" she squeaked, when Junko poked her in the forehead.

"For the last time, it's not your fault. If you know that up here," and she poked Usagi again for emphasis, "then your heart will follow sooner or later."

"Really?" Usagi asked in a small voice. Junko acted like it was easy, but somehow she doubted she could always keep her emotions in line with a brute force application of logic.

"Guys like that want you to blame yourself," said Junko. "Don't be deceived by his lies. Be strong."

Something about the way she said it brought back another struggle, the battle with Carnelian. The circumstances had been completely different, but the words of advice were the same, and when she looked at them in that light, they rang true. Don't be deceived by an illusion and lose hope… real strength shines even in adversity. Pegasus Kamen's face floated before her mind's eye. She felt her cheeks grow warm.

"Hello-o? Usagi-chan?" Junko was waving a hand in front of her face.

"Oh! Sorry, what?"

"You okay? You were spacing out there."

Usagi smiled, a real, unforced smile for the first time in days. "Yeah. I'm fine."

"Good, cause I gotta run."

Usagi looked up and saw Seresu holding Junko's wrist in a vice-grip.

"Pardon me, Princess," Seresu said with a respectful bow. "May I borrow Osaki-san for a moment?"

"Uh, sure," Usagi replied with a shrug, too surprised to even ask why. She watched with concern as her friends disappeared down the tree-lined path. Did Seresu really think Junko hadn't been chastised enough?

When they were out of earshot, Seresu turned to regard her teammate with a cool stare. "There is something you need to understand," she said, after several seconds of silence.

Junko's mouth twitched. "I know, I screwed up and made us all look bad. Won't happen again."

"No, that's not the point." Seresu started walking again, beckoning Junko to follow beside her. They turned down a narrow lane that led through a grove of willow and birch to a little arched bridge over a sparkling brook. "Your file says you awakened to your senshi abilities about half a year ago, but that wasn't the first time you used your power, was it?"

Shock registered on Junko's face. "You guys knew about that?"

"The queen likes to keep tabs on girls with… extraordinary abilities. Just in case. Seven years ago, Commander Nephrite happened to be in the Seattle area when he heard reports of a home invasion that ended under unusual circumstances. The couple's young daughter stunned the burglar with a lightning bolt that she—allegedly—conjured out of thin air."

Junko's eyes were fixed on the ground. "Except it turned out not to be a burglar. It was the wife's boyfriend who she was sneaking out to see. I suppose that was the nail in the coffin for their marriage."

Seresu pursed her lips. She hadn't known about that part.

Junko shrugged, and kicked a pebble down the road. "They managed to keep that little nugget out of the news."

"An impressive feat, in this day and age," Seresu muttered. Aloud, she continued, "The queen lost track of you for a while after that. Your move was so sudden. But this past January, she heard rumors of a rogue senshi beating up thugs in Roppongi. Then, a few months ago, you reappeared at the Crystal Palace with Vesta. How ironic, that you were right here in her home city the whole time. But then you and Vesta were captured, and the two of you had to make it out of that mess on your own. Again." Seresu paused on the bridge and looked at Junko. "You've been fighting alone all this time. Even when Vesta was with you, you relied on your own instincts. You had to, in order to survive. But it's different now."

Junko's breath caught in her throat. She had never realized, until that moment, just how isolated she had felt.

"You're part of a team now," said Seresu. "And a team doesn't work when people act on their own, without thinking about how it affects others. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. I'm glad we got that settled!" In the blink of an eye Seresu went from serious to bubbly. "Now, let's go shopping!"

"Wait… what?"

"Tonight is quite possibly the biggest party in the history of Crystal Tokyo, and we're on the VIP list. We are not showing up without new dresses!"

Junko tried not to groan. "You have fun. I can't afford that kind of thing right now."

"Don't worry!" Seresu declared, brandishing her Crystal Card. "Money is no object!"

"You're reckless."

"It's fine. I've got a little extra saved up."

"What? How?" Junko blurted out. She knew Seresu didn't have a job…

"I sell custom phone charms in my online shop. And Father sent me a little present for acing my exams."

"Doesn't mean you gotta use it to buy me some dress. Save it for college."

"I'll have plenty of scholarships for that," Seresu said dismissively.

Right. I forgot I was talking to Miss Mugen Genius I-can-have-a-full-ride-to-any-school-I-want, Junko thought with a touch of jealousy. Aloud, she said, "I don't accept charity."

"Come, now. We're friends, aren't we?"

"I don't like to take advantage of my friends."

"Oh, for goodness' sake!" Seresu threw up her hands. "Fine. I just planted some wisteria vines in my garden, and I want to build an arbor for them. You can help me with that, and we'll call it even."

"I don't know anything about construction."

"That's all right. You can carry the wood."

"But I—"

"It's Usagi-chan's birthday! Don't you want her party to be perfect?"

Junko gave up. She was out of excuses and Seresu was obviously going to keep hounding her until she got her way. "Gah, fine. Let's go."

With a delighted squeal, Seresu dragged her back up the path. Junko mentally prepared herself for the ordeal ahead. Shopping malls made her feel claustrophobic, with all their flashing lights, strange smells, and pushy salespeople who made her want to punch something. And trying on dresses was, invariably, a parade of awkwardness and inadequate femininity.

Maybe it won't be that bad, she tried to tell herself. At least she wasn't going with her mother this time…

It was that bad.

Being accompanied by an opinionated fashionista was intimidating enough, and Seresu seemed more interested in picking out Junko's outfit than her own. Then, at the second store they visited, they ran into Beth. The two of them wasted no time in loading Junko down with an armful of dresses and packing her off to the fitting room.

The greenhead muttered under her breath as she struggled into her seventh dress. Her friends were rejecting them faster than she could put them on. The current candidate, a pale green drop-waist mermaid gown, felt no more comfortable than the last. She thought it might fall off at any moment. Steeling herself, she stepped out again to face the "judges."

Seresu was shaking her head before the curtain fell behind her. "Next."

"I don't know. It has a nice silhouette…" Beth began. Her eyes fell on Junko's chest. Or rather, the three inches of fabric that it failed to fill. "Yeah. Next."

Scowling, Junko disappeared back into the stall. She was relieved when she finally ran out of options. Maybe now they would worry about their own clothes and let her wear what she wanted. Which would be whatever happened to be hanging at the front of her closet.

That was, of course, a naïve thought. Seresu and Beth browsed through accessories for the half minute it took her to get dressed again, then dragged her off to their next destination.

"This doesn't seem to be working. Maybe we should listen to Junko-chan's opinion a little more?" Beth hinted to Seresu as they entered the boutique. Junko could have kissed her.

"Great. I've decided. I'm just going to wear something I already have."

"That," said Seresu, "is why we aren't listening to Junko-chan's opinion."

Beth sighed. "I see. Well, at least let her pick what to try on."

Junko scanned the racks and grabbed a simple blue frock with faux-horn buttons down the front. "How 'bout this?"

Her friends gave her a pitying look. "Junko-chan… that's denim," Beth groaned.

"Yeah?"

"It would be fine for your first day of work at the local preschool," Seresu said in clipped tones. "This is a black tie event."

"Ok, I'll wear a black tie with it. I'm pretty sure I have one at home."

Seresu buried her face in her hands. "I give up."

Beth decided there was nothing to be gained by fighting Junko any more. "I'm going to go check out the clearance rack," she announced. "I saw some cute things back there…"

"What? No! Those are last season's leftovers!" Seresu gasped in horror.

"Yeah, and they're cheap."

"Seresu-chan thinks money is no object," Junko said with a teasing smirk.

"Do you think that means I just buy anything I see? No, no. The object has to be worth spending money on. Don't do things halfway. Guests from all over the galaxy are going to be looking at us, and if you're sloppy, it reflects badly on the princess. You'll cause an international fashion incident!"

Beth rolled her eyes at Seresu's dramatics, but she knew there was some truth to it. She allowed Seresu to steer her toward the new arrivals at the front of the store. Junko followed them with great reluctance.

"Have some fun with it," Seresu coaxed. "Find the one that speaks to you. Think of it as a chance to express yourself in a whole new way!"

"Maybe I want to express that I don't like to be judged for the way I dress," Junko grumbled.

"In a perfect world, Junko-chan," Beth said. "But reality is a little different. Now you understand why I left the pageant business."

"Actresses have to dress nice for the cameras too," Seresu pointed out.

"Mm. I guess they do." Beth thumbed through the latest designer gowns, trying not to cringe at the price tags. It seems like I can't get away from this kind of life after all…

Ten minutes later, Beth sidled out of the dressing room in a slinky scarlet number that perfectly accentuated all her curves. Junko and Seresu goggled at her as she spun around, showing it off from every angle.

"I think this one's my favorite," said Junko.

"You've said that every time."

"It's been true every time. I'm pretty sure Beth-chan could wear a garbage bag to the ball and make it look good."

"I know. It's so unfair!" Seresu sniffed enviously as their friend disappeared back into the booth.

Behind the gauzy curtain, they watched her lithe silhouette slide out of the gown. "So, that's a yes on this one too?" she asked.

"Uh-huh."

"Definitely."

Beth glanced at the overflowing rack of dresses she'd already tried on, all of which had met an equally glowing reception, and smiled to herself. "You guys are no help."

"I want to see the second one again," said Seresu.

Beth made a small sound of mock-annoyance. "Beauty can be such a curse."

"The grass is always greener," Junko muttered.

Mercury stood, arms limp at her sides, and stared at the banquet hall. Behind her, Venus and Jupiter lingered sheepishly in the doorway.

"Ahem. It's very... well, the table settings look nice, and—Do you two really think this was the best choice of fabric for a highly formal, extremely public and televised intergalactic event?"

"The queen insisted," said Jupiter.

"It's her birthday," Venus added.

"But this… this is…" Mercury trailed off, gazing helplessly at the tablecloths, which were covered in a pattern of red roses and super-deformed Tuxedo Kamen characters.

"Maybe we should have tried to stop her," Jupiter reflected with the clarity of hindsight.

"I don't know," said Venus in a desperate attempt to stay positive. "Setting aside the fact that it clashes with literally everything else in the room, it is kind of endearing that she's still so attached to her husband."

"None of the guests know about the king's old alter ego," Mercury sighed. "Most of them think Tuxedo Kamen is just a fable. A cartoon character. Has Mars seen this yet?"

Venus cringed. "Er, no."

She could already imagine how Mars, with her keen eye and refined sensibilities, was going to react. She wouldn't say a word. She wouldn't have to. One look from her would convey more scorn than a whole roomful of snooty diplomats could muster, and Venus had a feeling they were about to be on the receiving end of both.

"Also, how do you think Usagi-chan will feel?" Mercury went on. "She's a lot more easily embarrassed than her mother."

"Maybe it's not too late to change it?" Jupiter ventured.

Mercury shook her head. "Impossible. There's not enough time left to reconfigure the dye."

"Then what should we do?"

Mercury's visor flashed over her eyes, and she started analyzing the fabric. "I'll think of something."

As Jupiter paced fretfully and Mercury squinted at unfathomable amounts of data, Venus trailed a fingertip over the offending tablecloth, tracing one of the Chibi-Kamen with a faint smile. For once, a bad choice of decorations was the worst crisis they had to deal with. She wished every day could be like this.

Half past four found Beth and Atena in the kitchen, plotting grandiose schemes for the third course of dinner. Jupiter had meant to help (read: supervise) them, but the princess had requested her assistance in fixing her hair and picking out a dress. After several exhausting hours at the mall with Junko and Seresu, Beth could only hope Usagi's decision would be easier. At least in her case, money literally was no object, there were no crowds to fight, and everything fit since it was custom-made by the royal family's tailor droids. Must be nice, Beth thought.

Atena was searching the digital recipe catalog on a big screen that hung over the sink. A succulent menagerie of entrees tempted them, and every time they eliminated one, they found three more that looked even better. But they needed to decide fast, because they had barely an hour before guests started arriving. They could count on stellar presentation. Seresu was putting the finishing touches on the dining room, where she had sequestered herself all afternoon creating dozens of spectacular floral arrangements and a pair of giant ice sculptures. Meanwhile, Junko was off planning a fireworks display that would accompany dessert.

Suddenly, Beth had a wonderful, terrible idea. "Let's find something we can serve en flambé."

"What's that?" asked Atena, whose awareness of the cooking world was limited to sandwiches and things that came out of a can.

"It's French for 'douse it in alcohol and set it on fire.'"

A slow grin spread over Atena's face. "Cool! Let's do it!"

They settled on brochette Dijon. While Beth studied the recipe, Atena retrieved fresh thyme, garlic, lemons, and several whole chickens from the bio-stasis chamber (a 30th-century upgrade to the standard refrigerator that could keep many foods fresh at room temperature indefinitely.) On Beth's instructions, she skipped off to the pantry for the rest. She returned a minute later with an armful of bottles and jars, which she dumped onto the counter with a loud clatter.

"Ok," said Beth, surveying the gathered ingredients. "Now we just need Drambuie."

Atena popped her head into the liquor cabinet and frowned in confusion. She didn't know what the bottle looked like, and if there was any sort of organization in there, she couldn't figure it out. After a few seconds, she gave up. "Can't find it."

"Eh, I don't think it matters too much. We're going to burn it anyway."

"Everclear?" Atena suggested, setting the stage for the next disaster of the evening.

"Sounds good to me."

Beth started to prepare the chicken, and Atena fired up the stove to make the sauce. As the pot started to bubble, she rubbed her hands together with mounting anticipation. "This is gonna be awesome."

Usagi's room was a mess of lace and frills. Discarded dresses were everywhere: strewn across the floor, draped over her armchair and night-stand, hanging so heavily from the frame of her four-post bed that she was worried the canopy might collapse. In the center of it all she stood stiffly, chin up and arms out, while her two doting "aunts" used her as a mannequin.

Venus was rummaging in the same closet where, a few months before, Usagi had imprisoned her. The princess had to wonder if revenge was on Venus's mind as the blonde emerged with a too-bright smile.

But Venus's intentions were free of malice, if not altogether free of mischief. Dangling from the end of her finger was a silk qipao in an outrageous shade of orchid, with fanciful golden swallows and rabbits embroidered along the sleeves and hem line, which fell just above Usagi's knees. A plunging keyhole neckline and high slits along the thighs left very little to the imagination.

"Your mother wore this on her honeymoon, I believe."

Jupiter's eyebrows shot up. "Outside?"

Usagi's face turned a color similar to the garment.

"She cannot wear that, Venus."

"Oh, come on. It's not the twentieth century anymore. Lighten up." Venus held the dress up to Usagi's shoulder, nodding in approval. "Mm-hm. Hot. You're a grown up woman now. Gotta strut your stuff."

"Nobody says that anymore," Usagi muttered under her breath.

"Usagi-chan is a lady," Jupiter insisted, disappearing into the closet for a few seconds. She returned with an explosion of pink chiffon that looked like it came straight out of a Disney animated version of Pride and Prejudice: Victorian rigidity combined with fanciful pastels and a light dusting of glitter. The voluminous skirt nearly knocked Usagi over as Jupiter pressed it against her. "There," she said with a satisfied expression. "Isn't that nice?"

Usagi flicked at one of the many fabric roses that adorned the bodice. "Uh, I don't know…"

Venus was more blunt. "You're kidding, right?"

"No good?"

"It's a few centuries out of date."

"They call that vintage, right?"

Usagi made a face. "Sorry, but it's a little too vintage for me."

"Oh. All right." Jupiter cast one longing look at the gown before she laid it atop the pile of rejects.

"Then, you'll wear this one?" said Venus, waving the qipao.

"No," Usagi and Jupiter responded with one voice.

Venus sighed and set it aside, marveling at the similarity in stubborn indecisiveness between the princess and her mother. "Back to the closet, then. Let's find something a little more modern than that," she said, pointing at Jupiter's last selection.

"And a little more appropriate than that," Jupiter countered.

This led to a lively banter between the two older women about whose tastes were indeed more appropriate for this occasion, in this century. It continued until they noticed the peculiar silence on the part of their charge.

Jupiter blinked twice, staring at the spot where Usagi had been, then at the open door, swinging lightly on its hinges. "She's gone."

"Hey," Venus grunted, looking askance at the avalanche of dresses. "Just who's going to clean all this up?"

"Aaaaagh!"

Beth and Atena shot out of the kitchen, coughing and beating small flames out of their hair. A thick cloud of smoke followed them. The stovetop was consumed by a roaring column of flame.

"That was totally not awesome!" Atena squeaked.

Beth started to shut the door. "Don't worry. It'll trip the alarm and the sprinklers will put it out. Probably. Think I'll go get Jupiter, just in case."

To her surprise, Atena flung an arm out to stop her. "No! We'll get in big trouble." And before Beth could stop her, she charged back into the kitchen.

"Atena-chan! What are you—?" Beth gasped when she saw what Atena was doing. The shorter girl stood bravely before the fire, holding up her glass henshin orb.

"Pallas Star Power! Make Up!" Atena cried. In a flash, her jeans and t-shirt morphed into a blue sailor fuku. She struck a pose. "The soldier of cleverness, Sailor Pallas, will stop this fire!"

"Are you really making a speech to the stove?" Beth yelled.

Pallas cleared her throat and got down to business. She closed her eyes in concentration. Wisps of cool water vapor rose from her hands and curled around the fire, wrapping it in a smothering embrace. The air in the kitchen grew oppressively humid as heat collided with mist, but gradually Pallas prevailed. At last, the flames died down. Beth opened all the windows, trying to release the smoke and extra steam.

"What is going on in here?"

So much for not getting in trouble, Beth thought as the two of them faced a livid Seresu.

"Why are you transforming?" she demanded. She couldn't sense any enemies, or any sort of real danger. This had better not be some kind of frivolous game. She would like to believe Pallas had outgrown that sort of stunt.

"There was a fire," Pallas explained. "I stopped it before it could threaten the palace."

Seresu's needling gaze turned on Beth, who threw up her hands defensively.

"It was an accident. We were cooking, and things got a little out of control."

"Don't you know you should never put water on a grease fire?"

"It wasn't grease. It was vodka."

"Vodka!" Seresu exclaimed. It was only a few seconds before she realized, "you two were trying a flambé, weren't you?"

The pair nodded.

"I thought we should practice once before we served it," said Beth. "Guess it's a good thing we did."

Seresu gulped, trying not to think about all the third-degree burns they might have caused. "Indeed. Brandy or rum would have been a better choice. Something with a high alcohol content can vaporize too rapidly and explode when you light the match."

"So I've heard," Beth said with a hint of sarcasm.

"It probably didn't help that I accidentally spilled some on the burner," Pallas noted.

Seresu gave her a stern look. "You weren't pouring it directly from the bottle, were you?"

"Maybe."

"Always, always pour it into another pan first," Seresu chided. "You're lucky it didn't explode in your hand!"

"Now that I think about it, that makes sense," Beth agreed. "But hey. We didn't burn down the kitchen. All's well that ends well, right?"

"For future reference, there's a fire extinguisher under the sink," came a voice from the door.

The three girls looked up to see Hotaru standing timidly on the threshold. At first, all they could do was stare. The quartet didn't know the details of why Hotaru had been removed from the last mission, but they could all see that she'd grown distant since then. It had been over a week since any of them had a real conversation with her. Her quarrel with Usagi was driving a wedge between them too, whether they wanted it to or not. It wasn't that they resented her or blamed her for being upset. But the days had slipped by while they tried to figure out what to say, and now no one wanted to make the first move. In their attempts to avoid hurting her, to give her space, maybe it looked like they were siding with Usagi.

Pallas was the one to break the tense moment, in her simple way. "Hey, Hotaru-chan. Are you ready for the party?"

Hotaru took one cautious step into the kitchen. "Almost. I just need to get dressed."

"I mean, are you excited?"

"Oh. Yeah. Of course." Hotaru sounded less than sincere, more due to inner turmoil than actual lack of enthusiasm.

"Atena and I are going to do our makeup after this. Want to join us?" Beth invited her.

Hotaru managed a weak smile. "I'd like that."

"Okay!" Seresu said, more loudly than she'd intended. "Let's keep moving, everyone! We've no time to waste. Serenity-sama will try to drag the cocktail hour out as long as possible, but sooner or later, the show must go on. Junko-chan should be firing off her test shots any minute now. The band is already getting set up, and the banquet hall, if I may say so, looks rather splendid. Though I do hope Mercury finds a way to fix those tablecloths."

"What's wrong with the tablecloths?" Beth asked.

"They're… you'll have to see for yourself. Anyway, I'm off to get dressed. I suggest you two do the same after you've cleaned this up. Jupiter and Venus should have Usagi-chan ready by now—speaking of which, has anyone seen her?"

"Actually, I was looking for her," Hotaru said softly. Her friends stared at her again. For a moment she shrank back, almost giving in to the temptation to wallow in self-loathing. But no. She had to face the hard truth: that following her duty had caused a rift between her and her best friend, and that given the chance to go back, she would do the same thing again. She would protect Usagi, without regrets, no matter what.

When she looked up again, the others were smiling. "You'd better go find her," Beth encouraged her.

Suddenly, a deafening crash shook the palace, followed by the light, tinkling sounds of something crystalline shattering. Anxiety flashed across the girls' faces. Could it be another Moirae attack? Beth and Seresu summoned their henshin orbs, and the invisible ripple of energy surrounding Hotaru told them she was preparing to transform, too.

Moments later, Junko staggered into the kitchen, swearing and wiping soot from her face. "Gah! The fireworks are ready to go. And the window, well, it'll regenerate in a few minutes. But Pinky, I'm really sorry about your ice sculpture."

Seresu's lip quivered, and the quivering slowly spread to the rest of her body. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes.

"Osaki," she managed to gasp at length. "Remember that time I almost killed you?"

Junko gulped. "Yeah."

"I'm going to make up for it by not killing you today. Now, if you'll excuse me."

The others watched with quizzical expressions as Seresu vanished into the pantry and pulled the door firmly shut behind her. They heard a muffled scream of rage, followed by quiet sobs. Pallas and Beth focused on scrubbing the dishes, while Junko picked grit from under her fingernails and Hotaru studied a crack in the wall as though it held the secrets of the universe. After a minute or so, Seresu emerged, pale and watery-eyed but otherwise composed.

"Okay," she said, businesslike once more. "I'm going to go fix it. No, there's no time. I'll just have to figure something out."

Pallas jumped up eagerly, waving her hand in the air. "Ooh! If it's ice you need, Pallas can help!"

In her moment of despair, Seresu forgot her principles on frivolous use of senshi power. "All right. Come along."

Usagi closed her eyes, inhaled the summer-sweet fragrance of jasmine and water lilies, and for a short while allowed herself to bask in tranquility. She was sitting on the edge of a shallow pool in one of the palace's numerous small courtyards. Above her, a fat cherub carved of soapstone poured an endless stream of water from a cornucopia. The aforementioned jasmine vines twined around the base of the statue; in the cool of evening their star-shaped white flowers were just beginning to open. This particular cultivar was a hybrid from Kinmoku, given to Neo Queen Serenity by Sailor Judera on the anniversary of the truce that ended the Larn wars. Its origin was as significant as the gesture itself; animosity between the senshi of Larn and Serenity's longtime allies on Kinmoku was what had drawn the Solar system into the war in the fist place.

Once, long ago, the peoples of Larn and Kinmoku had been friends, until a disagreement over funding of a joint research project on artificial starseed manipulation led the Larni to sell the fruits of their shared endeavor to one Sailor Galaxia. When the latter rose up as a bloodthirsty conqueror thanks in no small part to the bracelets she developed from the technology, Kinmoku's wrath fell on the obvious scapegoat. The ill will between them was cut short when Galaxia subjugated both systems, but it revived along with the rest of the galaxy on the day Eternal Sailor Moon sealed Chaos. It took them two wars and the better part of a millennium to relinquish their grudge, but at last, with Serenity's intervention, they seemed ready to put the past behind them. The seedling was a symbol of renewed cooperation between former enemies—and far less likely to be weaponized than their previous project. It was the first thing Neo Queen Serenity had planted in this courtyard, which came to be known as the Peace Garden. Soon after she had added Mauan sphinx-head flowers, and a tree-like plant from Selkie with hundreds of tiny branches like glass filaments and a name none of them could pronounce. Since then, exchanging plants as part of diplomatic relations was something of a tradition in Crystal Tokyo (which thrilled Sailor Jupiter to no end.) Many others had followed, as treaties were sealed and alliances formalized.

It was perhaps fitting, then, that Hotaru found Usagi there.

For a while, they simply stared at one another. Usagi moved over to make room on the edge of the pool, and Hotaru sat next to her. There was too much to say, and no words for it. A soft wind stirred the branches of a hazel tree above their heads, sending delicate shadows dancing across their faces.

"I saw a shooting star last night," Usagi announced out of the blue.

"Oh. That's nice," said Hotaru.

"You probably didn't see it. It was early in the morning. I was out on the balcony because I couldn't sleep."

For a long time, Hotaru made no reply. Just when Usagi was beginning to wonder if she was ignoring her, she asked, "Did you make a wish?"

"I tried. But I couldn't think of anything."

"There's nothing you want?" Hotaru asked with a hint of incredulity.

"Oh, there's lots of things I want." Usagi blushed, finding herself thinking of golden eyes and horse-feathers again. "But there's a saying: 'be careful what you wish for.' A wish, if you hold onto it long enough, becomes a dream. And a dream can become reality. And reality can hurt someone. Even a very important person who you never, ever wanted to hurt, because they were always there for you, before you ever knew what your dream was."

"You can hurt yourself too," Hotaru said softly.

"Yeah. But that's okay, because my friends will get me through it. At least, that's what I always thought." Usagi peeked up at her from behind long, dark lashes. For the first time, Hotaru noticed the shadows of weariness under her eyes, the suspicious redness of her nose. "I don't want to fight anymore."

Hotaru closed her eyes, inhaled peace and serenity and the scent of jasmine, exhaled anger and hurt. Somewhere within the span of that breath, she found the strength to let go. She laid her hand atop Usagi's. "I'm sorry I was so hard on you."

"I'm sorry I said that about your father," Usagi apologized at last.

Hotaru smiled. Suddenly, the world seemed lighter, and even the song of the birds above sounded more carefree. Usagi's feelings about Pegasus Kamen may not have changed. But that didn't seem to matter so much anymore. She could accept that they were not going to see eye to eye there, as long as both of them knew that at the end of the day they would still be friends.

And maybe, like Nocturne said, someday far down the road Usagi would realize she was right.

"Whew," Usagi sighed, her eyes growing moist. "I'm glad. I couldn't have a good birthday without you."

Hotaru patted the bench next to her, motioning Usagi to come closer. Her friend happily obliged, and leaned her head on her shoulder. They stayed like that for a while, feeling content.

Then Usagi sat up, looking serious. "Did Mom tell you about what happened the other day when the Mnemosynean ambassador was here?"

"She told us Aether appeared out of nowhere and confronted you with some sort of weird fable." Hotaru shuddered. "I wish I'd been there to protect you. He didn't… do anything to you, did he?"

"No," Usagi assured her. She couldn't explain it, but her gut told her Aether would never try to catch her with a sneak attack. When he fought her, it would be face to face, with honor. "We just talked. Debated, is more like it," she went on. "Somehow we got into a discussion about love and fate. And whether the man in his story was wrong for choosing to fight his lover so the world wouldn't be destroyed." She recounted in detail everything she remembered from the incident, even the parts she hadn't told her mother.

Hotaru listened, growing more and more concerned. "You had a conversation like that with an enemy?"

"Yeah…" Usagi looked abashed. "I know he's dangerous. We can't trust him, but I just—I don't know. It feels like this whole thing is bigger than the Moirae. They're only one piece of the puzzle, and Pegasus Kamen and Aether are at the heart of it. It's like I'm being drawn to them somehow."

"It's okay," Hotaru said abruptly. "You don't have to tell me all your secrets."

After all, she had a few secrets of her own. Her conference with Pluto, for one. The others knew only the bare facts of Mercury and Pluto's "autopsy" on the robot. Hotaru had kept Pluto's more ominous speculations to herself, at the older senshi's request. Not only would it cause them pointless distress, but if there really was some sort of time paradox brewing, alerting them to it might make it worse. Knowledge could have "unpredictable causal implications," as Pluto put it.

A shudder wracked Usagi's slender frame. "Hotaru-chan, I… I'm scared."

Hotaru slipped an arm around her shoulders. "Let's not talk about it anymore. Just know that I'm always here for you."

Moments later, Sailor Mars appeared at the top of the stairs leading down to the courtyard. "There you two are! Shouldn't you be dressed by now?"

"Mars! I'm so glad you're here," Usagi exclaimed gratefully. "Can you help me pick a dress? Venus and Jupiter were trying to give me advice, but…"

"Say no more. No wonder you're hiding out here." Mars paused, looking from Usagi to Hotaru. "I take it you two are on speaking terms again?"

Usagi flung herself at Hotaru in a side-hug, nearly knocking her more petite guardian off her feet. "Yup!"

After an imperceptible hesitation, Hotaru hugged her back.

"More ice over here, please."

"Hai!" Pallas obliged with a spurt of super-cooled water that crystallized on contact.

Seresu was ready with a chisel. Fine shavings drifted down in a sparkling cascade as she worked. "I must say, this is much faster with your help," she said, backing up to critique the details she'd just completed. Pallas beamed. They had turned out to make a pretty good team: she created the rough shapes with her ice, and Seresu's trained hands carved the minute details.

They put the finishing touches on the sculpture and admired their handiwork: a fanciful array of woodland flowers, crystal spires, dancing fairies, and clouds of fireflies, with a bust of the princess at the center. Diana made a cameo in one corner, peeking out from under a large leaf. Across the room, it was mirrored by a similar portrait of Neo Queen Serenity with her king at her side, surrounded by roses and shooting stars. Luna and Artemis took the place of Diana in that one, and the guardian senshi's silhouettes were etched into a large rainbow arching over the royal couple.

"I had planned to include a Pegasus as well," said Seresu, "but given the circumstances, I thought the better of it. So I hid him over there." With a coy smile, she pointed at a wingtip and horse's tail just barely visible behind a mass of swirling ferns on the princess's sculpture.

Pallas giggled. "Ok, it's our little secret. Woulda been fun to tease her, though."

"Mm. Perhaps on Christmas."

"We're doing this again, then?"

"Oh, yes. But no fireworks next time!" Seresu declared emphatically.

"Well, like Beth-chan says, no harm no foul. Hey, look, the window grew back already!"

The double doors at the far end of the hall swung open, and Mercury stepped in. "Oh, how wonderful!" she exclaimed. "I can't thank you two enough for all your work. Everything looks good. Except… well, you know."

"No breakthrough for the tablecloths, I take it?" Seresu asked in dismay.

Mercury took a deep breath, and words spilled out of her. "I had considered using a low-voltage electric shock to reset them, or maybe a powerful magnetic field, or even dunking them in acid, but in all my simulations it wouldn't work and would more than likely just destroy the fabric… Then I thought of writing a little program to, shall we say, "hack" the nanites—overclock their reconfiguration protocols—but that's technically illegal, not to mention the slim possibility that the whole thing might catch on fire, and we've had enough of that for one day, thank you very much. So, in a word, no. There's no solution. We'll have to live with it."

"Turn 'em over," Pallas said matter-of-factly.

Mercury and Seresu gave her a blank stare. "Eh?"

"The nano-dye is only printed on one side, right? So the back is still plain white."

The other two gaped at each other in pure amazement. "Pallas," Mercury whispered. "You are a genius. And I need more sleep."

A few minutes later, the trio were busily flipping linens when Usagi strolled through the hall, accompanied by Mars and Saturn. The princess's eyes lit up as she took in the display.

"Wow! It's just like a fairy tale. Seresu-chan's sculptures are so pretty!" She bounded across the room, examining every detail and clapping her hands with girlish delight. Then her eyes fell on one of the buffet tables.

Mercury tried to intercept her, spreading her skirts wide to block her view. "Don't worry about that, princess. We're taking care of it."

Usagi squinted at the pattern. "Is that… Tuxedo Kamen-sama?"

"Yes. Yes it is."

"Cute!" Usagi squealed. She looked up and down the room, contemplating, and declared, "We should do them all like that!"

As the princess and her companions swept out of the room, Mercury hung her head in utter capitulation. "All right. You heard her."

The girls were dressed, primped, and powdered in record time. (They were, after all, used to quick costume changes.) Half an hour later, they convened at the base of the grand staircase in the palace foyer. Though they were outfitted for an evening of small talk, drinks, and dancing, the invisible aura of power and glamour surrounded them which would both mask their identities to their fellow citizens and mark them out like a glowing beacon to any woman with the same ability. Mars had taught them how, with a little concentration, they could transform without actually donning the sailor fuku.

Ceres found it slightly unnerving—the sense that something was wrong or out of place kept creeping up on her, almost like suddenly realizing she was naked in public, or that she was pointing a loaded gun at the people in front of her. Or both. She had to keep reminding herself that this was part of their plan. It was a good arrangement: this way they were ready to protect the princess in case the unthinkable happened, but still able to mingle and enjoy themselves without looking like they expected an attack.

But there would be no attacks, she told herself firmly, trying to channel some of Venus's undying optimism. Not tonight. They deserved one night of peace.

She brushed imaginary dust from the neckline of her gown, which blossomed upwards in ruffles from the high waistline to frame her face. She had adorned her hair with jonquils and white "Hagoromo" camellias, and the floral motif continued with a subtle pattern worked into the gown's skirt of finespun silk, which swept down to the floor in a waterfall of pink. A golden-yellow sash and matching slingback heels completed the look. I am classy, confident, and capable, she told herself. I am the princess's right-hand woman, like Venus before me.

Beside her, Pallas twirled and giggled, enjoying the feeling of the pale aqua chiffon fluttering around her knees. Unlike Ceres, she was as comfortable in the dress as she would have been in her senshi uniform, or lounging around at home in her favorite sweats for that matter; she seemed to have forgotten that she was transformed at all. She did look very pretty, with blue pearls and a spray of baby's breath pinned in her hair and just a touch of makeup that highlighted her features without spoiling her youthful charm. But she was too busy taking in the dashing and exotic guests, sparkling lights, and lavish decor of the party to think much about herself. Not to mention the delicious smells from the next room…

She bounced on her toes impatiently. "Pallas is sooo hungry right now."

"Aw man, me too," Juno groaned, suddenly aware of the gnawing void in her own stomach. She'd skipped breakfast to get to the palace early and help, and then their excursion to the mall had caused her to miss lunch too. At least she had finally managed to compromise with Ceres on her outfit. A spring green pantsuit paired with low-heeled leather pumps offered the perfect balance of comfort and elegance, without making her feel like the girly-girl she wasn't. Vesta had convinced her to tie a bold, jungle-pattered silk scarf at her neck, and she was surprised to find that she kind of liked the look of it. Not that she was ever going to wear it again in a million years.

Vesta was stunning as always, in a black satin gown that draped from one shoulder. Bright red sandals and a ruby necklace that perfectly matched her hair made for a stunning contrast. With perfect poise and a dazzling smile, she seemed right at home with the rest of the VIPs.

"You look really nice tonight, Ves-chan," said Juno for probably the tenth time.

Vesta tossed her hair. "Does that mean I don't look nice on other nights?"

Juno laughed and nudged her lightly. "And you're so modest, too."

"Can you keep a secret?" Vesta asked in hushed tones. When Juno nodded, she cast a furtive glance at Ceres then leaned closer to whisper in her ear. "I found this dress on the clearance rack."

Juno stifled a snicker. "What Pinky doesn't know won't hurt her."

Vesta's smile faded. "You keep calling her that."

"Heh. Yeah, sometimes I give people nicknames. Don't know why, but I thought it was cute."

"Are you sure it doesn't bother her?"

"Er… Ceres usually lets you know when something bothers her."

"Do I hear my name?" the subject of their conversation asked in singsong tones, gliding over to join them.

An impish gleam shone in Vesta's eyes. "Oh, no. Of course not. Juno wouldn't talk about you behind your back."

Juno shrank under Ceres's needling gaze. "Wha—? I didn't say anything!"

"She certainly wouldn't say that your butt looks big in that dress."

"Vesta! That's terrible!" Juno protested. Ceres looked ready to explode.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," Vesta said before Ceres could blow a gasket. "We were just saying that you have impeccable fashion sense." It was the truth, if not quite all of it.

Ceres calmed down a little, but was still unsettled. She glanced around the room, hoping for a mirror she could check discreetly, but found none. "Are you sure it doesn't look funny?" she whispered. "Be honest, now. Pallas said it was okay, but I was worried, with that big bow in the back…"

"You're fine, Pinky," Juno assured her. Then, after a moment's hesitation, "You don't mind me calling you Pinky, right?"

"Hm? Oh, no. Not at all. It's certainly not the worst thing I've been called."

Vesta was suddenly fascinated by something on the ceiling.

"Ceres," Pallas whimpered. One of her pearl hair clips had come loose and was dangling in her face. Her attempts to pull it out had succeeded only in winding it into a tight, frizzy snarl.

"Oh, not again," Ceres said with a put-upon sigh. "Hold still, I'll fix it…"

Juno and Vesta watched with subdued smiles. Even if she acted like it was a chore, Ceres obviously enjoyed fretting over Pallas. So much the better if it kept her attention away from them.

An awed hush fell over the room, and every eye turned toward the stairs, where a raven-haired beauty was descending with dainty footsteps. Even her friends stopped to stare. Saturn's gown was the color of twilight shadows, layers of silk that shimmered whenever she moved. Her bodice was worked in lace and black pearls. The lace wrapped around her shoulders in an illusion neckline, its dark pattern of swirling vines and lilies a striking contrast against her creamy skin. Crystal fireflies dangled at her ears (a present from Haruka-papa.) She smiled self-consciously when she realized everyone was looking at her, and hurried to join the other senshi.

"I'll have to be content with being the second best-dressed girl in the room tonight," Vesta whispered.

"Oh, too bad. You'll have to descend and mingle with us mortals," Ceres teased.

They were interrupted by a sprightly auburn-haired girl with a digital recorder in one hand and a notepad in the other. She was practically dragging a tall, gangly boy wielding an oversized camera. Ceres blanched when she realized it was the same young reporter she'd run into earlier that day.

Miruki walked right up to Ceres, who was trying very hard to remain nonchalant. It was hard to tell if she recognized her or not. "Excuse me, Ma'am! I'm Souga Miruki and this is my associate, Yang Zhi Peng. May we take your picture for our school paper?"

Ceres opened her mouth to make some excuse, but someone else answered for her, "Of course you can, as long as I can be in it too."

Miruki's jaw dropped. "Oh, wow! Princess!"

Usagi was pretty even in her school uniform, but still, it was hard to believe the radiant beauty in front of her was the same girl who sat a few desks behind her. Usagi's gown was the palest pink, nearly white. Soft folds of chiffon rippled outward from a starburst of rainbow-colored pearls on her bodice, forming a silhouette reminiscent of a Greek goddess. Her pigtails were caught up in loops tucked under her signature pointed odango, and on her brow rested a diamond-encrusted tiara bearing the sigil of the White Moon family. Tonight, she looked every bit the future monarch of two empires.

Miruki motioned the group to stand closer together while Zhi Peng lined up the shot, resisting the urge to grab the camera herself when he fumbled with it for a second. "Wait 'til Kai-chan reads this story…"

Ceres fidgeted behind a forced smile. Maybe it was her imagination, but Miruki seemed to be looking at her too intently. Had she made the connection? Their magic protected their identities somewhat, but sometimes all it took was one spark, one hint, to break the spell. Especially for a naturally observant person who already had her suspicions.

Miruki played it cool, snapped her shot, exchanged a few pleasantries with the princess, and went on her way with Zhi Peng in tow. But just before she vanished into the crowd, she cast a long, searching glance back at them.

"Are you really here to cover the party?" Ceres muttered. Or are you trying to unmask the new sailor senshi?

A flicker of white near the door caught Usagi's attention. She broke away from her friends, craning her neck to see around the clusters of conversation that filled the hall. There again, near the coat check, a pale tuxedo jacket, and wisps of silky white hair peeking from beneath a top-hat of the same shade. She dashed forward, parting the crowd of startled socialites. Her friends followed at a more subdued trot, exchanging puzzled glances.

Usagi had nearly reached the man in white when he swept off his hat, tossed it to the serving-droid who had taken his coat, and turned with a flourish, snagging a drink off a passing tray in the same motion.

"Let's get this party started!" he boomed. Beside him, a girl with dirty-blond hair and a sky blue dress rolled her eyes and muttered something about lying low.

"I believe you are too young to drink that, Mokushi-san," admonished a smaller girl with a thick, charcoal-gray braid. The man in white made a quick shushing motion.

The princess stopped short as she got her first good look at his face. The eyes that stared back at her were a vivid purple. That in and of itself didn't prove anything—she had never seen Pegasus Kamen's eyes, though she somehow expected them to be gold, like his mask. But the person in front of her was definitely not Pegasus Kamen. For one thing, he was a she.

"Your Majesty!" the white-haired girl exclaimed, striding toward Usagi with none of the diffidence one might expect from a complete stranger approaching the princess. "Fancy meeting you here! But then, it is your palace, and this is your party, so I guess it's no surprise that you'd be here. I ought to say, 'fancy you meeting me here,' but that sounds awfully self-absorbed, don't you think?" She punctuated the flood of words with a bow and a wiggle of her eyebrows.

The blond girl quickly dropped a curtsy, and took the opportunity to nudge her companion hard. "She's royalty. You speak when you're spoken to," she growled between clenched teeth.

"It's okay," Usagi assured them. "Dad will insist on some protocols when dinner starts, but really, we're pretty laid back."

"Glad to hear it," the white-haired girl said. There was something about her smile that struck Usagi as strangely familiar. It was gone before she could place it. "Please allow me to introduce myself. I'm Takahashi Mokushi, and these are my friends: Houri Kasuga, Toyoasa Shizuka, and… Chitose-chan, get over here!"

The blonde, Kasuga, wrinkled her nose. "Should have just let her stay in the car like she wanted," she muttered, not quite softly enough to escape Usagi's hearing.

A tall, slender beauty with long hair the color of a tropical ocean sauntered over to join them. One of her eyes was covered by her bangs; the other momentarily fixed Usagi with a dispassionate gray stare, then dropped to the floor.

"Sorry about her," Mokushi whispered. Aloud, she said, "and this is, er, Okitsu Chitose. My BFF."

"BFFs are for twelve year olds," Chitose remarked in a voice smooth and opaque as an evening fog. "The phrase has connotations of puerile frivolity."

"We're in the presence of royalty. Don't be so rude," Mokushi clucked, never losing her good humor.

By this time, Usagi's friends had caught up to her. Waving them over, she introduced Ceres, Pallas, Vesta and Juno.

"And I am Saturn. The princess's guardian and dear friend," the last senshi spoke for herself. Her every movement exuded the utmost politeness, but her eyes were sharp and probing. "Pardon me, but where did you ladies say you were from?"

Usagi groaned inwardly. She hoped Saturn wasn't going to interrogate every guest who tried to talk to her. But Mokushi didn't answer the question. In fact, she didn't seem to have heard it. She was staring at Saturn with an odd look on her face, something akin to longing. Did they know each other from somewhere, Usagi wondered? Saturn's face gave no indication that she recognized the white-haired girl.

Nah. I'm reading way too much into it, Usagi decided. Mokushi was probably just overwhelmed at seeing the princess and her senshi in all their royal finery. She could hardly blame her for feeling intimidated.

"We just moved to Tokyo," Kasuga replied while her friend was gawking. In contrast to her earlier abrasiveness, her voice was suddenly cordial, even cheerful. "We have a place in Ikebukuro for now, but we're hunting for a bigger apartment. You know how it is—we all have too much stuff."

Hotaru's eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch. Way to dodge the question, she thought. Time for a different tactic: the overreaching assumption. "Well then, welcome to Japan," she said. "I hope you didn't have too much trouble getting through customs."

Kasuga hesitated for the span of half a breath before nodding. An untrained eye might have missed it. "Not at all. Things went pretty smoothly for us."

She was lying, that much was apparent. Someone who was telling the truth wouldn't need that fraction of a second to decide whether to run with the story Saturn had supplied or contradict it, because people who told the truth didn't have to check every statement against the lies they'd already told. But why? What were they hiding? In the interest of not wrecking the party, Saturn declined to press the four strangers further, but she made a note to keep an eye on them, and to keep some distance between them and the royal family. Any more funny business, and she would have them escorted out of the palace. A glance at Ceres told her the Quartet shared her convictions. She tugged lightly at Usagi's hand.

Usagi's mouth twitched, but she inclined her head towards her new acquaintances. "It was a pleasure to meet you. Please enjoy yourselves."

"As the princess wishes," said Mokushi, tossing back the glass in one gulp. At Shizuka's disapproving look, she added, "What? It was a royal command!"

"I'm glad you're having fun, but please stay close to us, Usagi-chan," Ceres whispered as the princess and her five senshi made their way back across the room.

Usagi blushed. "Sorry. I thought I saw… someone."

"Pegasus Kamen?" Pallas asked point-blank before Ceres could shush her.

Usagi's silence answered for her.

"It's all about Pegasus Kamen these days," said Juno. "What ever happened to that Helios guy?"

The blush deepened in mortification. "I haven't forgotten Helios! But… I just…" Usagi fumbled for words. How could she explain what she didn't fully understand herself? The way she felt toward Pegasus Kamen was different, in a way, than what she felt for Helios. He made her heart pound, where Helios had filled it with calm and warmth. Was it because she was older now? Or was it because they were always in some kind of crisis when they were together? Could she really have a bond with someone she only met in battles, about whom she knew next to nothing?

"A girl's allowed to have secrets," Vesta cut in, ending the conversation. Usagi breathed a sigh of relief. Juno and Pallas looked apologetic.

The clarion call of a dozen trumpets pierced the air, and all eyes turned toward the great carved crystal doors at the eastern end of the room, which led to the banquet hall. The doors swung open, and Luna, in her human form, stepped out, with Artemis following close behind. Spreading her hands wide in a gesture of welcome, she declared, "Friends, neighbors, and esteemed guests, their royal majesties are pleased and honored by your presence. The royal birthday banquet will now commence. If our guests would kindly proceed to their seats…"

Usagi knew the drill from here. According to Lunar custom, the general populace would be seated first, followed by government officials and diplomats. The highest ranking members of the court were always last. Her empty stomach protested the antiquated formality with a loud gurgle. But some traditions must be preserved. It was her mother, surprisingly, who insisted on that point. Maybe it was her way of paying homage to her lost homeland. There was, however, one departure from the old Moon Kingdom protocol: while in the days of the Silver Millennium the commoners had been forced to wait until the queen began her meal, Neo-Queen Serenity insisted that her guests be served as soon as they were seated, because according to her, it was simply cruel to make a person wait so long for food. She apparently had no qualms about inflicting such cruelty on her family and closest friends. And so they queued up at the back of the room, waiting to be announced and paraded one by one in front of their adoring subjects, who by that time would likely have finished their main course and be eyeing the dessert menu.

When I'm queen, we're doing these things buffet-style, and whoever eats the fastest gets the most, Usagi silently made up her mind.

The Quartet were headed for the dining room, intending to spread out and take strategic positions among the crowd, but Mercury caught Ceres' arm and pointed her toward where the other senshi were gathering.

"You're with us," she said matter-of-factly.

The four exchanged confused looks as they followed. They had assumed they were supposed to be incognito. If they were being seated with the princess...

Saturn offered Usagi an arm and a reassuring smile. They took their place behind the Quartet and in front of the queen's court. Under Ceres' watchful eye, Pallas was making a valiant effort not to fidget. Vesta seemed perfectly composed. Juno fixed her eyes on the distant gleam of the dinner table and hoped no one was looking at her.

At the door, Artemis cleared his throat and unrolled a scroll several meters long. All along the ceiling, a series of hologram projectors illuminated each name as he read it. "Announcing Ulana daughter of Meialopi, Lemurian ambassador to Earth, escorted by the honorable Henryk Durward-Mayer, Earl of Westernesse…"

Usagi tried not to yawn.

She thought she might have dozed off somewhere around "Her Grace Mihr Panossian III, the Grand Duchess of Annunaki," and the sound of her friends' names jolted her awake.

"Announcing Pallas, Contessa of Vostok Rupes; Juno, Contessa of Chalybes Region; Vesta, Contessa of Tharsis Rise; and Ceres, Contessa of Lakshmi Plains."

"Contessa?" Pallas gasped.

Behind them, Mercury smiled softly. "That's right. The four of you have been granted courtesy titles, as a sign of your right to succeed us."

"Surprise," Jupiter added with a short laugh. "You're a senshi, kiddo. And that means you're on the way to being a princess."

The Quartet gazed at each other in wonder. The thought had never occurred to them before. Being a superhero was enough to make any teenager's head spin, but they were going to rule over entire planets some day. Although said planets were, at the moment, devoid of life except for the occasional space station or surface outpost, they still felt the weight of the responsibility. At the rate the re-colonization projects were progressing, they might very well have a sizeable population to rule over by the time they took the throne.

Usagi shot a glance back at her mother, and found her staring at the young senshi, looking anxious but resolved. The princess understood better than her guardians the significance of the choice to introduce them as members of the court. Serenity had long avoided the subject of the new senshi in public. It had given her a margin of plausible deniability, having soldiers on the ground who no one could identify to fight an enemy whose existence she denied. That was all over now. To name these four girls as sailor senshi (and there could be no doubt she was doing just that, by giving them styles reserved for the royal families of the guardian senshi's planets), to own them as her agents, leant a degree of legitimacy to their actions. It elevated them from anonymous vigilantes, whose motivations might be questioned, to true soldiers of love and justice, accountable to a government that most people still believed in. But it also meant the royal family could no longer shrug off the questions that were bound to follow the next time their new senshi got into a scuffle with the Moirae. Moreover, it made Serenity and Endymion answerable for the team's mistakes. It was a sign of trust, of their confidence, that they were willing to take that risk.

"Holy cow," Juno muttered over and over as they made their way to the doors.

"Ceres, Princess of Venus," Ceres whispered, trying out the name. "I do like the sound of it."

"Don't get ahead of yourself," came a sharp warning from the blonde behind her.

A wicked smirk spread over Vesta's face. "Princess Ceres, and Prince-consort Julian."

Ceres shot her a glare, but quickly schooled her features into a smile as they entered the banquet hall.

And then Artemis was reading, "Her Royal and Imperial Majesty Princess Usagi Lady Serenity, Princess of Arcadia, Duchess of Serenitatis, escorted by Her Grace Sailor Saturn…"

The rest was a buzz in Usagi's ears as they passed through the doors, and she felt every eye in the building on her. Murmurs of admiration—mostly—ran through the crowd. She knew a few of them had heard of her "incident" the other day, and might have their own opinions on whether or not her conduct had been appropriate. But at least she could rest assured that no one on this guest list would be so indecent as to openly mention the subject.

The doors opened onto a marble balcony, ringed by a gilded balustrade, where the guests were presented before descending the wide, fan-shaped staircase to the dining room proper. The Starlight Staircase, it was called, supposedly because of the thick plush runner which covered the stairs, midnight blue at the top fading to white at the bottom and embroidered with silver stars. Along the railing were fanciful Roman-style urns, each engraved with a five-pointed star, overflowing with blue, green, and pink flowers. Along one side of the balcony, intricate stonework depicted a woman with long, wavy hair and angel's wings, hovering over the Milky Way with outstretched arms. Below this was carved the words "Light and shadow will be born again." On the other were four cameo silhouettes framed by seashells. Three were women with ponytails, the fourth wore a crown and had a peculiar looped hairstyle. Once or twice Usagi had caught her mother gazing at it wistfully, but Serenity would never explain why.

After basking in admiration for a second or two, Usagi and Saturn descended the steps. Usagi hoped her posture was graceful enough. Was she wearing enough makeup? Or too much? Did they like her dress? She struggled to hold her nose at exactly the right angle, not so low as to look bashful, but not so high as to appear snooty.

"Relax," Saturn whispered, but it was no use. Time seemed to expand; each moment lasted forever, yet the world flew by around her in a blur of lights and voices. They passed Ceres' ice sculpture, sparkling under the light of a dozen chandeliers, and ascended the dais where the head table stood. It was all she could do to keep her knees from wobbling. And then, all of a sudden, they had reached their seats. To her left were the massive, throne-like gold and silver chairs where her parents would sit; to her right, the Quartet and Diana had already made themselves comfortable, and were listening to Vesta and Ceres trade boasts about their contributions to the night's entertainment.

Saturn pulled out her chair for her. With murmured thanks, Usagi settled herself on the plush cushion, arranged her skirts, and took a deep, calming breath. It was silly to be this nervous, she chided herself. It wasn't as if she'd never been to a ball before. Why was this one different?

Maybe she knew. It was her first major public appearance since she'd become Sailor Moon. She wasn't sure why that mattered so much, but somehow it did.

Smiling briefly at the Tuxedo Mask covered tabletop, she reached for her glass of water. Little sips, she reminded herself. Don't gulp. And make sure you're smiling at everyone. She tried to concentrate on making eye contact with all the right people, wondering in the back of her mind if Pegasus Kamen would be among the guests. He did have a way of showing up in unexpected places…

Distantly, she heard Artemis proclaim the arrival of "Her Grace Sailor Venus, Duchess of Tranquilitatis, Contessa of Spumans, escorted by—Khk!" The Mauian advisor broke off with an undignified choking sound. A small uproar arose near the door. Puzzled, Usagi glanced up, and nearly spit out her drink. There was Venus, striking a model pose in the doorway… wearing that same ultra-revealing Chinese gown she'd tried to foist on Usagi earlier. It was even shorter on her, with her mile-long legs, and she knew it.

Artemis recovered himself enough to finish the announcement, but his eyes kept drifting to Her Grace's supple curves and perfectly bronzed skin, while Luna glared daggers at him from the opposite doorpost. Not content to merely walk past her adoring fans, Venus broke away from her date and went around the room to personally greet each of them, Soon she was signing autographs and having her picture taken. Luna and Artemis looked bewildered, unsure whether to forge ahead with the king and queen's entrance or allow Venus to derail the event. At the royal table, Mercury stared and blushed. Jupiter clapped a hand to her forehead and sighed. Mars, who had just reached her seat, paid no heed to the whole fiasco.

"You're surprised?" the raven-haired woman asked in bemused tones.

"I guess not. But honestly, to be wearing that at her age…" Jupiter muttered.

Something impish stirred in Usagi just then, a spark ignited by Venus' antics. "You said I was too young to wear it," she reminded Jupiter. "And now you're complaining that she's too old?"

"I didn't say you were too young. I said you were a lady."

"In other words… because I'm a princess, I ought to be held to certain standards of dress and decorum."

Jupiter nodded, pleased that the princess was able to comprehend so easily what Venus failed to understand. "Exactly. You need to look respectable in public."

"But Venus-sama is a queen in her own right. And a duchess and a contessa, not to mention leader of the sailor senshi," Usagi observed with feigned innocence. "Surely she's even more respectable than me."

"She's an adult. She can make her own decisions," Jupiter replied briskly.

"So it is about age after all."

Rather than continue the conversation, Jupiter buried her nose in her drink. Usagi smirked, regaling in her victory. Hotaru was more subdued, but she couldn't hide the sparkle in her eyes.

"Hm. But you're not a child anymore either, are you, Lady Serenity?" said Mars, swirling the ice in her glass. Even that simple gesture had a dangerous elegance about it, and her voice held a velvety lilt that sent a tingle down Usagi's spine. Just what did she mean by that?

An unsettling thought occurred to her. All the older senshi had sharpened their planetary power over the years. It was possible that Mars's natural psychic ability had grown as well. "Mars-sama? Can you read thoughts?"

A smile danced over the fire senshi's lips. She leaned forward, unblinking purple eyes boring into Usagi's, and lowered her voice so only the two of them could hear. "It's a fine choice of accessories, that tiara. You can feel the weight of it on your brow, reminding you of your status. It reminds you of something else, too. Tonight is an important night for you, more than all your other birthday parties. The first since your… second awakening." There was no need for Mars to elaborate. And she was right. Hadn't Usagi just been reflecting on how this year seemed more significant?

"This is a coming-of-age for you," Mars continued, her voice taking on a hypnotic quality. "You've finally begun to regard yourself as an adult. Perhaps, for just a moment, you even pretend to yourself that the tiara on your head is your mother's crown."

Usagi's eyes widened, and she drew a sharp breath. Is that really what I'm thinking? I hadn't realized it, but maybe… maybe I was imagining myself as queen, for a second.

Mars nodded sagaciously. "I'll go further. You're a woman now, with a woman's desires. You're hoping that Pegasus boy will show up tonight. That you'll finally have a moment or two alone with him. And yet, you're conflicted. You're wondering if Helios is still waiting for you. But the real question is, are you still waiting for him?"

Usagi gulped. Mars regarded her for a moment or two, relishing the look on her face, before she added, "No. I can't read thoughts."

The princess jerked back with a scandalized squeal. She often forgot how tricky Mars could be. But just as quickly, the playfulness vanished from the older woman's face, leaving only gentle concern and a trace of something like regret.

"Just… be careful, Usagi-chan. Love is a wildfire, never contained, never satisfied until it consumes everything. Don't be in a hurry. And don't take too much advice from—"

"Hel-lo there, birthday girl!" Venus's bright and cheerful voice broke in. "I love you too, Crystal Tokyo!" she addressed the crowd one last time, and blew them a final kiss before plopping into a chair between Usagi and Mars. "Woo! You have no idea how much I needed this."

Mars caught a whiff of her breath and wrinkled her nose. "Are you drunk?"

"I am well on my way, darling." Venus cracked open her sequined clutch to reveal a golden flask. Mars rolled her eyes and returned to her cocoon of dignified silence.

Mercury gave Usagi a despairing look, one that said, I'm sorry you're being exposed to this. Knowing the way things usually went, Venus would be on the cover of at least one tabloid by tomorrow morning.

Just then another fanfare sounded from the doors. Even Venus managed to reel in her manners as a reverent hush fell over the room. The lights dimmed, and a pair of spotlights ran up the stairs to illuminate the night's most honored guest.

"Announcing Her Royal Majesty Neo-Queen Serenity of the Silver Millennium, Queen of Luna, Empress of Japan, President of the Silver Alliance General Assembly…" Artemis continued to rattle off titles for several minutes until he finally reached, "and His Imperial Majesty Endymion, by the Grace of God, Sovereign of Earth and Elysion." By the time he got through the king's relatively shorter set of styles, he was red-faced and breathless.

Silver holo-confetti rained down on the royal couple as they posed at the edge of the balcony. Below, someone raised a glass and shouted, "Hail, Serenity! Hail, Endymion! Long live the king and queen!" Other voices in other languages took up the chant, until the room rumbled with cheers and applause. Serenity seemed abashed at all the attention—the spotlight most certainly had not been her idea—but she enjoyed it nonetheless. Waving and smiling, the two of them made their way across the room. Serenity bent to kiss her daughter's forehead as she passed, and then they took their seats.

At long last (it seemed to Usagi) a team of waiters, all quick-footed and sleek in black satin, emerged from a door beneath the staircase, each bearing a crystal tray. She blinked once, twice, and then they were placing dishes in front of her. Silver lids were whisked away to reveal scrumptious offerings, as appealing to look at as she knew they would be to taste: candied yam and roasted vegetables, tropical fruits and miso soup, stuffed mushrooms and some kind of shellfish from the Menkar system, with a tofu substitute for Venus, who was attempting to go vegan for the fourth time.

In accordance with etiquette, the Quartet and the Guardian Senshi admired each dish, complimenting the expert presentation. They were interrupted by a variety of chomping and slurping sounds from the royal family, who refused to stand on ceremony any longer. The rest of the senshi looked at each other, shrugged, and dug in.

After the mayhem of the entrance ceremony, dinner passed uneventfully. Pallas, Vesta, and Juno slipped away midway through the meal, and Jupiter excused herself to follow them. Usagi was engaged in trite small talk with her mother about some popular new manga series when Pallas and Vesta returned, Jupiter hovering behind them, bearing a glass dish of cherries and ice cream with a great deal of pomp. This they set before the queen and princess, along with a pair of silver spoons. Jupiter produced a long match from her pocket, eyed the two teenagers, and finally handed it to Vesta, who must have been a tiny bit better at hiding the gleam of pyromania in her eyes. The young senshi ignited the match with a flick of her finger, while Pallas doused the dessert in liqueur. Having learned her lesson earlier, Vesta waited until Pallas had capped the bottle and handed it back to Jupiter before she set the dish ablaze. Blue flames flared up over the dessert for an instant, and there was much ooh-ing and ah-ing. Seeing that it wasn't going to explode, Jupiter let out a relieved sigh and congratulated herself on salvaging the meal. After one taste of the girls' burnt chicken and over-salted sauce, she had convinced them to try a slightly simpler dish. Cherries jubilee fit the bill: it was easy, it still involved fire like they wanted, and Usagi and her mother just happened to love sweets.

"Happy birthday, Your Majesties!" said Pallas and Vesta together. The rest of the room applauded.

Usagi's eyes grew moist as she looked at her friends. With everything that had been happening these past few weeks, she felt she hadn't always taken enough time to appreciate them. They had not only supported her in battle, but straddled the divide between her and Saturn without judgment or resentment for either side. "Thanks, you guys," she said, meeting each of their eyes in turn—Ceres too. "Thank you for everything."

It was then that she realized Juno was still gone. As if on cue, the dining room lights dimmed, and Luna stepped up to the royal table. "Your Majesties. Ladies and gentlemen. We invite you to enjoy a special fireworks display we've prepared in honor of the occasion," she announced. Across the room, Artemis was turning a crank to open the great glass windows along the eastern wall. Beyond lay a garden with a long reflecting pool ringed by a vine-covered colonnade.

Mercury pulled out her mini-computer and pressed a few keys. A pattern of translucent blue hexagons momentarily arrayed themselves in a dome over the banquet hall. A protective forcefield, programmed to allow the cool evening breeze to pass through, while shielding against more explosive forces. Within seconds it had turned completely invisible, the only trace of its existence a faint humming sound.

"Just in case," she said, mostly to herself.

"In case of what?" the king wanted to know.

"In case… people wanna enjoy the fresh air, since it's sooo nice out tonight," Venus tried to explain, alcohol slurring her words.

"But why the forcefield?"

"Uhm. Oh look, it's starting."

Sweet strains of violin music filled the air. All along the edge of the pool, fountains of sparks shot up in shades of red, pink, and white. They jumped higher as the music rose to a crescendo. Then, with a crash of cymbals and drums, the sky exploded in thunderous bursts of light that made the whole palace vibrate.

"Eek!" Pallas cried, diving for cover with her hands clapped over her ears.

Beside her, Ceres mimicked the gesture in a more subdued fashion. "So noisy!" she groaned.

"So cool!" Vesta cheered. Her companions looked at her like she was crazy.

Violins gave way to electric guitars as the soundtrack transitioned to an instrumental rock piece. Trails of light streaked across the sky and blossomed into fiery breaks of a hundred different hues, starry spirals, whistling bees and screaming rockets. Usagi and Serenity took it all in with bated breath. The finale rattled the plates and glasses, and lit up the night sky bright as noon. A series of explosions, each larger and closer than the last, left behind glittering gold images of the crescent moon sigil, a pair of rabbits, the Moon Chalice surrounded by a cloud of rainbow sparks that fluttered like butterflies, and finally, the queen and princess with feathery wings on their backs, facing one another with hands uplifted. A huge rocket, pulsing with white light, arced into the air between them, hovering above their fingers like a tiny newborn star. It was obviously supposed to represent the Ginzuishou.

Abruptly, the rocket twisted and veered off course. Fishtailing wildly with spurts of fire and smoke, the rogue projectile hurtled toward the open dining room window. It slammed into Mercury's forcefield with a tremendous crack. Shockwaves rippled across the surface of the dome, and a few plates clattered to the floor. One loud crackling crunch split the air, and then all was still. There was a smattering of nervous applause from the guests, many of whom had figured out that the final explosion was not part of the script.

Juno leaped in through the window, hands clawing at her hair, muttering, "Ack! I thought I fixed that."

"Is everyone all right?" the queen asked. There was a general murmur of assent. "Well, then! Bravo!" she said cheerfully, clapping her hands. Her ease of manner was enough to cajole a more enthusiastic round of cheers from the rest of the guests.

Juno gave them an awkward smile, took a bow just in case anyone was still convinced that the whole thing had been planned, and edged out of sight before Ceres could notice the lone casualty of the accident.

"That was good thinking, Mercury," Jupiter whispered.

Mercury returned her shaky smile. "I'm just glad no one was injured. It is a shame about that, though," she added, nodding toward the other side of the room. One of the floral urns, shaken loose by the explosion, had toppled from the Starlight Staircase... right onto Ceres's ill-fated ice sculpture.

From the other end of the table, a bloodcurdling shriek went up. "Junooooo!"

Luckily for Juno, the royal ladies were slow about finishing their dessert, and by the time Ceres got away from the table, her fury had cooled. She was too excited about a long evening of dancing and showing off her dress to stay upset for long.

But there was one more ceremony to be had before the party could move to the ballroom. The king and queen called Usagi to stand before them.

"Lady Serenity," her mother said, pride shining in her eyes as she looked up at Usagi. Yes, up. Hotaru had pointed it out some months ago, but this was the first time Usagi noticed how much taller she was. It must be because she was wearing high heels, she told herself.

The queen reached out as if to embrace her, but only caught her lightly by the shoulders. Her smile was warm as always, but it was more reserved, somehow. The hands that touched her arms were no longer there to prop her up or steer her, only to remind her of her mother's love. In that moment, standing on the tempestuous threshold of adulthood, Usagi felt the veil of acceptance fall between them. From now on, disagreements she had with her parents would be treated not as childish rebellion to be corrected, but as a difference of opinion between adults. From now on, they would let her make her own mistakes.

Sometimes growing up means leaving things behind. Do you understand? Usagi-chan?

Her mother stood on her tiptoes and kissed her cheek. "Happy birthday."

"You too, Mom."

Her father, meanwhile, had slipped behind her and produced a cotton scarf from his pocket. "We have a present for you. But it's a surprise," he said, tying it over her eyes. Usagi allowed her parents to steer her out a door and down a long portico, around several corners and then down a short flight of steps. By the time they stopped she was thoroughly disoriented. All she knew was that they were outside, in a courtyard, if she could guess from the soft cooing of birds and the cool night breeze on her cheek. There was a tumult of footsteps as the rest of the guests crowded in behind her. Her father whisked off the blindfold, and in the same instant, a hundred crystal lanterns flared to life along the courtyard walls. At first she was dazzled by the light. When she could see again, her breath caught in her throat. The small square was carpeted in soft green grass, dotted with tiny pink flowers. A path of sparkling white flagstones led to its center, where a small crystal bench stood under an arching trellis. And all around, trailing from the arch and climbing the walls, twining around the lanterns and filling the corners, were beds upon beds of roses.

She turned in a slow circle, taking them all in. There were roses of every shape and size: tea roses, dog roses, miniature roses, damask roses. Pink, white and deep red roses here, mauve and orange and yellow there, even one rare specimen of blue rose from one of the moons of El-Tanri. Some were groomed into bushes, others spilled from tiered containers. The air was rich with their heady perfume.

"Your father built this all himself," said Serenity, glowing with pride. "He's been working on it since last year."

The king coughed into his sleeve. "All I did was stick them in the ground. Nature took care of the rest."

Usagi would have none of his false modesty, and threw her arms around his neck. "It's beautiful, Papa. Thank you."

Another round of applause and happy-birthdays filled the air.

At Endymion's prompting, everyone filed out of the garden and headed for the ballroom, but Usagi lingered with the queen. She'd been wanting to talk to her mother since before dinner. Now that they finally had a moment of privacy, she didn't know what to say. "Thank you" didn't seem quite right. She knew her mother's decision to acknowledge the Quartet had not been a gift for her, or for any of them. Nonetheless, it was immensely gratifying to see her guardians accepted as real sailor senshi, to no longer feel like a skeleton in the royal family's closet.

Serenity spoke first, and nothing could prepare Usagi for what she said.

"Tomorrow I'm going to hold another press conference. I'll give the people of this planet the answers I owe them. No more hiding. No more empty reassurances that everything will be all right. I'm going to tell them about the Moirae." Usagi's eyes widened as she went on, "You were right. I should have been honest with them from the start."

Usagi stared at her, thunderstruck. She had all but given up that Serenity would ever change her mind, and now out of the blue she met with not only this sudden reversal, but words her mother had never said to her before: you were right.

She never wanted to hear them again.

"I've been thinking about it since the attack," Serenity explained. "The city was so unprepared, and here I'd been trying to downplay the threat. As if by that I could save them. But that wasn't what changed my mind. It was when Ceres told me what happened to you down at the stadium. I was a little shocked that you wouldn't go to the police right away. I wanted to tell you to be brave, and not ignore the truth because you didn't want to face it, but then I realized I was doing the same thing."

"It's not your fault, Mom," Usagi declared emphatically. "We were attacked by people who hate us for no reason. It's not your fault for not being ready."

"I know."

Serenity's eyes traced the thorny vines climbing along the top of the wall, then drifted upward to the star-filled heavens. Out there in the infinite darkness, beyond her sight, supernovae were exploding, swallowing their planets in the fury of their dying spasms, casting their dust out into space, where someday it might gather and solidify into new stars, new planets. All that was would someday be again; nothing was new that had not once been old, and nothing was so old that ancient Time should regard it with any sort of reverence. Yet here she was, on a trifling little planet hanging from a tiny yellow star, wishing that all the grand revolutions of nature would pause for her and her ideal of peace. But she loved it so much, this world they had built together.

"Maybe there's nothing we could have done," she murmured, more to herself than Usagi. "We're so small. Sometimes we're at the mercy of fate."

Usagi bit her lip. Those didn't sound like the words of a woman whose courage had saved the galaxy. But when she looked into her mother's eyes, she saw no trace of despair, only a quiet, gentle, firm resolve. Then she understood. The queen possessed that rare combination of determination and humility. Hers was the strength to accept whatever came, to fight without knowing whether she would win, whether she had any chance of winning. To seek peace, always, in the face of insurmountable strife. In that moment Usagi began to understand the meaning of her name. Serenity.

She took a step forward. "There's no way to know if our striving changes anything, in the end. Even so, if there is one thing I can do…"

The queen smiled approvingly at her. "Kneel," she commanded, in a soft-as-air voice that could have moved mountains.

Usagi dropped to one knee, careless of the night dew seeping into her dress. Serenity cupped her hands above her daughter's head, and they lit up with a silver glow. Usagi felt a strange, prickling heat as the light grew brighter and brighter. All of a sudden it flared up in a searing flash that put all Juno's firecrackers to shame, and then it was gone, leaving only a faint trail of sparkles in its wake.

Usagi rose slowly, patting at the spot between her odango. There was nothing there. She gave Serenity a confused look, and received an opaque smile in reply.

"My gift is a practical one," said the queen. "It will be there when you need it."

No less bewildered than before, Usagi nodded slowly. "Thank you."

Her mother laughed and hugged her. "You are growing up. A year or two ago you would have complained about an invisible present. Now, shall we go inside? I'll bet Lady Saturn would like to get back to the party."

Usagi looked up and saw the silhouette of her guardian leaning against the courtyard gate, positioned discreetly out of earshot, but never out of sight. Always there, just in case I need you, she thought. She wanted to run to Saturn, to embrace her and tell her she was the best friend anyone could ask for. But something held her back. Saturn had a delicate air about her. An obscure and violent shadow swelled in the depths, something that had briefly taken the shape of anger toward Usagi and Pegasus Kamen until, with the sheer brute force of forgiveness, she had forced it back beneath the surface. Her demon was not defeated, but it was hers alone again, imprisoned beneath a thin veneer of contentment. Maybe she thought she had it under control, but Usagi knew her better than that.

A small voice in the back of her mind wondered if Saturn might hold her in contempt for running after the Pegasus Kamen lookalike. She stifled the thought, and extended her hand with perfect princess-like grace. "Thanks for waiting on us. Ready to have some fun?"

"Ready when you are."

"Do you guys know Cootie Chaser? How about HYPERTENSIoN? Sayonara no mae ni?"

"I'm afraid not, madam," the concert-master replied patiently to each inquiry.

"Butterfly? Everyone's at least heard that one."

"I don't believe that selection is suitable for the ballroom, madam."

Pallas gave him her best pout. She was bored of the minuets and foxtrots and all their equally stuffy equivalents from other worlds. If only that old man would give DDR a chance, she was sure everyone would like it. She was curious to see how some of her favorites would sound performed by a string quintet, and it would give her a chance to show off some of her moves. But for some reason, the musicians couldn't see the merit of her idea.

"Come on, Pallas!" called Ceres, who was currently being twirled around the room by some well-connected junior starship officer whose name she would forget in five minutes. Unlike Pallas, she was loving every minute of this. Both she and Vesta had found their attention in constant demand this evening.

With a heavy sigh, Pallas made her way back to the edge of the dance floor, where Juno, like her, had spent the last half hour waiting to find a partner. All the men glanced at Juno's stormy green eyes and cross-armed pose, then moved on to a less intimidating catch, while all the women were either frightened of her or waiting for her to ask them, which she would never do. She didn't mean to seem standoffish, but her natural introversion kept her at a distance while the more outgoing dancers paired off. By then, she had grown so frustrated at being overlooked that even if someone did notice her, she would pretend that she didn't want to dance after all. She would continue the charade for a few minutes before she realized how bored she was, and start to think that maybe she would try joining in the next dance, and the cycle would repeat.

Pallas, meanwhile, found herself unilaterally ignored. She told herself it was because she was so short. People often didn't notice things below eye level. Ceres and her partner passed by again, and the young man did glance down at her. But the only acknowledgement he gave her was a simpering smile, as if she were somebody's kid who had wandered into the line of eligible women by mistake.

"I'm a contessa, ya know…" Pallas muttered.

"Well," Juno huffed, "at least we're better off than poor Usagi-chan."

Pallas's eyes sought Usagi in the throng near the center of the room, and found her in the grip of a tall, solid woman (or was it a man?) with long, teal hair and blue-tinged skin. Her sleek military-style jacket, brilliant white with blue piping and gold tassels at the shoulders, was split in the back to accommodate her scaly tail, which swept across the floor in an oddly hypnotic rhythm. This dance they were sharing must be a matter of diplomatic obligation; neither one seemed very happy about it.

"Sailor Phidara," said Juno, and suddenly Pallas understood the tension that was so evident even at this distance. Now she noticed that Ceres and Vesta were carefully maneuvering their partners to stay close to the princess.

"Is that… safe?" Pallas wondered.

"I guess Serenity-sama thinks so."

But the queen and her senshi were not as easy as they thought. Across the room, Mercury and Venus were having a nearly identical conversation.

"She's our ally. We have nothing to fear from her," said Venus, not sounding entirely convinced of her own words.

"Not at all," Mercury agreed.

"She's a different one from last time," Venus observed. "I heard Rannan Suk was thinking about stepping down—they can do that over there—but I didn't know it was official."

"Mm. You haven't heard, then. The transmission just came in this morning, which means it happened..." Mercury ran some quick astrophysical calculations in her head. "About ten days ago."

"Who is she?" asked Venus, recalling her math-loving friend to the point.

"Ah, yes. Suk-san resigned, and was replaced within the hour by one Sanjana Murakami. That name may be familiar to you."

Venus's lips compressed into a thin line. It was indeed. Back in the 21st century, there had been a Sailor Phidara named Juanna Szolik, who single-handedly started the Second Larn war. Neo-Queen Serenity defeated her and sealed her in a crystal prison, and Venus would have been quite content to see her rot there forever. But kind-hearted Serenity couldn't stand the thought of subjecting anyone, even a warmongering maniac, to such a fate. Five hundred years later, they defrosted the would-be tyrant, treated her wounds, put her through a short rehabilitation program, and sent her back to Phidara with an olive branch.

Their efforts were rewarded with another invasion.

Just before leaving Earth, Juanna had married Murakami Yasuto, an exobiologist from Japan, and was raising a child with him on a Terran space station. But when the Senate gave the order, she left her family to lead the final assault on Earth. The Larni suffered a catastrophic defeat, and Sailor Phidara went missing. In desperation, her husband crossed the galaxy to find her, only to be killed when the Solar Space Force destroyed the cruiser he was on. The Larni surrendered three days later.

In a final stroke of irony, Juanna Szolik-Murakami was found alive. The Alliance convicted all the Larni senshi of war crimes, and shipped them back to their home planets to be sentenced by military tribunal. Two were executed, over Serenity's vehement objections. Juanna was merely stripped her of her senshi title and imprisoned for life.

And now her daughter had inherited that title.

"I suppose she blames the queen for her father's death." The slight curl of Venus's lip betrayed her thoughts on the matter. Her heart pitied Murakami Yasuto, but her brain told her he was a traitor.

"He didn't take a side in the third war. And her mother didn't want to."

"Could have fooled me."

"When a sailor soldier's planet goes to war, she may find herself obligated to fight," Mercury said in carefully neutral, academic tones. In truth, she found the Phidarans' logic as baffling as Venus did, but she had given up trying to rationalize it long ago.

"No. They attacked us. It's never a senshi's duty to obey the orders of a corrupt government."

"They don't think that way, Venus."

The blond senshi fell silent, fixing her eyes on the dancing pair once more.

Usagi was struggling to meet her partner's unblinking gaze. It was hard to read any emotion on that narrow, flat-nosed face. She wasn't sure she wanted to.

"Are you enjoying the party?" she asked when she could bear the stiff silence no longer.

"I am here as a representative of my planet. Not to enjoy myself," was the curt reply. Usagi winced.

"A-as the princess of Crystal Tokyo, I'm pleased and honored that the Senate favors us with this sign of friendship," she replied, trying hard to think like a Phidaran.

"I am likewise honored to be your guest."

But not pleased, Usagi thought, feeling even more awkward than before.

"Did I hurt your feelings, Your Majesty?" Phidara asked after a pause.

She was trying too, Usagi realized. Trying to think like an Earth-born human. It was no easier for her, even if she was half human. But Usagi knew better than to bring that up.

"Know that I bear you no personal ill will," Phidara assured her. Then, destroying any comfort Usagi could have gleaned from those words, she added, "That I reserve for your esteemed mother."

This time Usagi couldn't mask her reaction. Phidara realized she had overstepped, and tried to make amends. "I do not mean to offend. I am of the Echida people. We believe honesty is the second highest virtue. And the first is kerde-ni-dara, Dividing of the Heart. It means that I feel one thing as Sailor Phidara, another as Juanna Szolic's daughter, perhaps another as Sanjana Murakami. I accept them all, without allowing them to mingle and taint one another as you humans do, and choose which feeling to act on at the appropriate time. Now is not the time to be Sanjana."

"You must do what you think is best," was all Usagi could say.

Phidara smiled, a strange expression that stretched her blue skin even tighter over her face. "You think as you think, and I think as I think. There is no right or wrong there. Only truth." They pulled apart and made a slow turn, palms pressed together, then bowed formally and resumed their steps in the other direction, Phidara's arm again firm on the princess's waist.

"As a politician," Phidara went on, "I will cooperate with Neo Queen Serenity. As a sailor soldier, I would lay down my life in her defense or yours. Such is the only relationship you and I need to cultivate."

"And if the state of affairs between Sol and Larn should change?" Usagi dared to ask.

"I would kill you where you stand," said Phidara without missing a beat.

Usagi swallowed hard, but managed not to trip over her own feet. "Would you do it as a sailor soldier, a politician, a daughter, or a person?"

Unguarded surprise registered on Phidara's face, followed by a different sort of smile, one that almost held admiration.

"I'm not sure," she replied after a thoughtful pause.

Mercifully, the dance drew to a close. They bowed once more and separated. Usagi practically fled the room, not even looking at her friends.

Juno made a move to follow her, but a light touch on her shoulder stopped her. It was Vesta, who had escaped her groupies long enough to join them for a moment.

"She looks like she could use a little space right now," Vesta said. Juno relented, throwing one last worried glance at Usagi before she turned away.

"And how 'bout you, Miss Popularity?" asked Pallas.

Vesta laughed. "Are you kidding? I live for this. You two should get out there and have some fun."

"I'm having fun," Juno lied.

"If they're not gonna play any DDR songs, I'm more interested in the food," said Pallas, entirely truthfully.

Vesta would have kept trying to cajole them, but right then a tall, well-dressed young diplomat approached her, bowing and extending his arm. "Lady Vesta, may I have the honor?"

Two teenagers bounded up after him. "Can we have your autograph first, Lady Vesta?"

More followed, closing in around her. Reporters with flashing cameras, competing suitors, dazzled fans clamoring for her to sign their trinkets. And none of these people knew she was Miss Teen Indonesia.

Vesta shrugged at her friends and allowed the tide of adoration to sweep her away. Juno's shoulders drooped.

"Hey Juno-chan. Dance with me," Pallas said suddenly.

Juno looked at her as if she'd suggested they run away to the Andes and become llama farmers. "Huh?"

"Dance with me," Pallas repeated. "Neither of us have partners and I'm bored."

"I thought you were more interested in the food," Juno said with a thin smile.

Pallas regarded her with scrutiny. "You're just chicken," she concluded.

"Am not!" Juno retorted with all the petulant affectation of a five year old. She grabbed Pallas's hand and dragged her out to the floor.

The hallway leading from the ballroom to the art gallery was lined with ceiling-high crystal panes that looked out over the moonlit gardens beyond. Usagi leaned her forehead against one, grateful for the cool on her flushed face.

She knew she couldn't stay long. Her absence might be perceived as an insult. But she needed a few minutes to catch her breath. Phidara's words were still ringing in her ears. She shuddered as she recalled the detached, thoughtful smile on the soldier's face as she contemplated which aspect of her personality most wanted Usagi dead. This from a person who supposedly bore her no ill will!

"So many artificial walls between us. So many masks we wear," she whispered to her reflection in the glass. The face looking back at her was full of anguish. With effort, she smoothed it into something resembling composure. "If people hated me for me, that would be all right. I could live with that," she explained to the now-calm reflection.

But that wasn't quite true either, because they were all her. She walked past a crystal buttress along the wall, and the image of her face fractured into a dozen slightly different angles. In her mind's eye, they all took on different forms. Tsukino Usagi, Princess Lady Serenity, and Sailor Moon. The public figure, the secret guardian of Tokyo, the daughter, the friend, the girl who blushed at Pegasus Kamen. The maiden who still, in the quiet depths of her soul, treasured the memory of someone else.

She didn't want to divide her heart.

Her eyes wandered to the gallery doors, and again her conversation with Aether replayed in her mind. When he looked at her, he saw only the sailor soldier, whether she wore the uniform or not. At least he addressed her as such. But there had been such a strange look on his face when he challenged her—cold and unyielding, yet marked with a certain sadness. Almost like regret. As if maybe he were also wishing that they could live in another world, one without wars, soldiers, politics or pretense.

She shook her head. What was she thinking, ascribing such noble thoughts to a good-for-nothing thief?

On impulse, she pressed her hand to the scanner and opened the gallery doors. Silver sconces on the walls illuminated as she stepped inside. She passed through aisles of exquisite artwork: Neptune's elaborate glazed amphorae, a few watercolors Mercury had done as a way of making peace with her father, Mars's haute couture drawings. (Mars had surprised everyone by getting into fashion design later in life. Something about fulfilling a dream for a friend who couldn't.)

Usagi made her way to a small door at the back of the room which led to a cozy atelier. Two of its walls were lined with oak shelves and drawers bursting with art supplies, books, and tools. A matching desk, cluttered with curiosities, was tucked into one corner. An easel stood in the other. The far wall was mostly taken up with a velvet-padded window seat framed by dark blue curtains. The place had an almost magical atmosphere that was a balm to Usagi's restless mind from the moment she entered. Here, she was whole. Here, she was at peace.

Slowly, deliberately, she thumbed through a collection of stretched canvases on the shelves. After a few minutes, she selected one and placed it on the easel. As she grew older, she had discovered that creating things was only one aspect of the artistic process. Just as important, if not more important, was the artist's inner voyage of discovery. It was about listening as well as speaking, learning as well as teaching, knowing oneself as well as expressing oneself. Sometimes, when she let go of conventions and allowed her muse to guide her, the things she learned about herself surprised her. She had, on occasion, set out to convey one message, only to realize partway through the project that she actually believed the exact opposite. Such exploratory pieces did not usually end up as her most technically solid work, but they always held the most meaning for her.

It was in hopes of such an epiphany that she now stepped back from the blank canvas and opened her mind to visions. Helios had admired her beautiful dreams. She found herself smiling at that memory. As a child she had been a daydreamer, and her parents and tutors were quick to encourage her imagination. They told her she would be a fine, accomplished lady someday. For the first nine hundred years of her life, she was content to bask in their compliments, but "someday" never arrived. It wasn't until she heard those words from Helios that she started to feel like there might already be something fascinating, something rare and admirable and lovely, inside her. All she needed was to learn how to let it out. From that day, her skills had flourished. Everyone had said she must have found her inspiration. But Usagi knew that what she really found was faith in herself.

Thank you, Helios, she thought. She knew what she was going to paint now. There was no time tonight, but she would start tomorrow. For now, she had to get back to the ballroom. Spirits lifted, she gently shut the door of the little studio behind her and made her way back to the hallway.

Helios and Aether. How strange that both, in their own way, could look with clear eyes through the kaleidoscope of her identity.

She was so lost in thought, she didn't notice the man's face in the window until she was right in front of him. When he tapped lightly on the glass, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Pegasus Kamen!" she exclaimed, running to him. His white tuxedo and cape shimmered in the moonlight. He had forgone the top hat tonight, granting her a better view of his milky-white ponytail. To make up for it, he had an even larger, gaudier golden mask, adorned with jewels and feathers, that obscured the top half of his face and forehead.

He gave her a bright smile and pointed to the latch. Now she realized how precariously he was perched on the sill, clinging to the edge of the casement with the tips of his fingers. She hurried to open it, and he tumbled in, somehow landing on his feet.

"Whew! Thanks," he breathed. "It was windy out there."

When he straightened, he had produced a bundle of white lilies from under his cape. With a gallant bow, he held them out to her.

"Oh! Thank you!" she cried gleefully as she gathered up the blossoms. She resisted the urge to bounce on her toes. This must be a dream. Was he really here? She sniffed the flowers to reassure herself that they were real. They had a peculiar sweetness, not at all unpleasant, but different than what she'd expected.

"Pleasure's all mine, Princess. Happy birthday."

She smiled coquettishly over the top of the bouquet. "Word must have gotten out that I love flowers."

He grinned. Was it her imagination or was he blushing? "Try one."

"Huh?"

"They're sugar flowers. One hundred percent edible. And pretty good, if I do say so myself."

"Sugar flowers…" she marveled. She gave one an experimental lick. It melted on her tongue, with a pure, simple sweetness that brought an involuntary sigh of contentment to her lips. She couldn't say how, but the flavor took her back to her childhood, to days spent running in the sunlight, and nights lying on her soft pillow, gazing out the window at the endless stars and dreaming wild, innocent dreams.

"You like them? I made them myself," he declared, tucking his thumbs into his suspenders. After a slight pause, he added, "With a little help from a friend."

Usagi restrained herself from asking whether his friend was a girl. "They're wonderful. Thank you very much," she said again. Without giving herself time to imagine how Saturn would react, she added, "Would you care to join us in the ballroom? I would love to finally introduce you to everyone." It occurred to her that she didn't really know him any better than they did. She brushed the thought aside.

He seemed excited, but something held him back. "Not to be rude, but may I keep my mask on?"

"Of course!" Usagi chirruped, relieved that his only inhibition was such a small one. "We try to respect everyone's customs. There are Pytarans here, and their men never take off their headdresses in public—they think it's vulgar. The Bo'ari, on the other hand, never wear clothes at all unless it's cold. And they think 12 degrees is hot."

This time she was positive his face was turning red. "I'll, uh, try not to stare."

"Oh, don't worry. They're three feet tall and furry, so it's not like—" She broke off, rubbing the back of her neck. "Ugh, sorry, that sounded racist. But… well, they don't act naked."

He toyed with a lock of hair by his ear. "I get it. When you know someone's from another world, when their appearance makes it obvious, maybe you expect them to have different ideas about manners. You don't try to judge their culture by your standards."

"Yeah," she said, letting out a shaky breath. She marveled at his ability to pick apart her thoughts and redeem her from sounding like a jerk. "On the other hand, Tokyo high society does have its opinions on what's proper for its own members." A wrinkle of her nose revealed what she thought of their pomp. She laughed. "If you and I strolled into the ballroom in the nude, we might have a bit of a cool reception. I mean, not that you and I would ever have a reason to be naked. Together. At a party. I don't go to those kinds of parties. Uh—that is—but if that were your custom…"

She made herself stop talking.

"I'm sure you'd respect it," he said, calmly as if they were discussing the weather. Only the deepening redness behind the mask betrayed him.

She scrubbed her sweaty hands on the front of her dress. "I'd try not to stare," she lied.

You're a woman now, with a woman's desires, Mars's voice teased in her mind.

"You've already seen me without clothes, though. When I turned into a Pegasus," he pointed out.

She nearly fainted. He was not helping. "T-that doesn't count!"

Because if that counts, then that time with Helios, too…

He laughed, seemingly oblivious to her anguish. "Why not? Tell me, am I better looking as a man or a horse?"

"Ugh, stop!" Usagi squeaked, too breathless to say anything else.

He saw her face and doubled over in mirth. "Sorry, sorry. Don't answer that."

Usagi was suddenly preoccupied. Her mind wandered back to another day, a different Pegasus. In the heart of the city, the unexpected fresh scent of forest loam, accompanied by the tinkling of a crystal bell. White flanks and silken mane gleaming against the verdant shadows. And then the brush of soft, perfect, human lips against her own.

Of course, by the time she opened her eyes Helios had been fully human—and fully clothed. Back then she'd been barely more than a child, and had made only the most innocent observations of his fine jawline, lean but strong physique, and nectar-sweet golden eyes. But the memory was still vivid in her mind, and her imagination translated the handsome youth into a man, one that her adult sensibilities could appreciate in a whole different way.

She stopped herself. Helios seemed too pure and other-worldly for those kinds of thoughts. Besides, she shouldn't be fantasizing about someone else while she was on a date with Pegasus Kamen. If this counted as a date. Did it? He had brought her flowers…

They reached the ballroom doors. She held them open for him. The princess's reappearance with a strange man was greeted with stares and murmurs. Venus gave her a victory sign and a toothy grin that assumed far too much. The quartet stared, open-mouthed. Saturn was a statue, cool, blank-eyed, and motionless.

"But maybe," said Pegasus Kamen in a low voice, "the more similar to you another person is, the more you start to notice the points where you aren't the same."

Usagi tensed. She knew they weren't talking about the Bo'ari anymore.

"When it's someone who grew up beside me, who usually knows exactly what I'm thinking without me saying anything, someone who has always been my friend… It bothers me when that person doesn't seem to understand my feelings at all."

He nodded. "It sounds like you're having a hard time understanding her feelings, too."

"It's not like I expect her to agree with me all the time," said Usagi, sounding more testy than she would have liked. "But it's my life. I can make my own decisions."

He didn't say anything at first. She liked the way he listened without seeming like he was weighing her every word.

"I have a friend who can be hard to understand," he confessed after a minute or two. "I know he's keeping secrets from me. He always promises to explain someday, but it troubles me sometimes. The feeling that he doesn't trust me."

"The friend who helped you with the sugar flowers?"

"How did you know?" he asked, too surprised to maintain his mysterious air.

"Just a guess." Usagi pilfered a vase from one of the arrangements lining the wall, crammed its former occupants into one of its neighbors, tossed the water out the window, and settled her own bouquet in its place. Satisfied, she set it on the overflowing gift table. "The way you talk about him, it seems like you must be close."

"Yeah," he said. "That's why I believe in him, even when nothing he does makes sense." After a significant pause, he added, "If you continue down this road, a great many things will start to not make sense. Maybe it's not my place to say it, but... please try to appreciate your friends. They mean well."

"I do try." Usagi tore her eyes away from Saturn. "Come on, I want you to meet my mom."

She avoided the purple eyes that tracked her as she and Pegasus Kamen crossed the room to where Serenity and Endymion stood. Her father scrutinized the young man as they approached, and continued his silent analysis while they exchanged the standard pleasantries. Usagi wasn't worried about him. He was just playing the overprotective father, and that wouldn't last long. How could he not like the person who had saved both their lives during the battle with Ripidolite? It was her mother's opinion she was anxious for. She was the one who thought nothing was ever quite good enough for her only child. And it occurred to Usagi that now, facing the Moirae with a mind unclouded by denial, the queen might be less welcoming to a stranger whose loyalties were unclear.

But Serenity was warm and gracious, and Pegasus Kamen was his usual charming, witty self. In a few minutes they were laughing and joking like old friends. Usagi watched them, glowing, and managed to forget about Saturn for a few minutes. Serenity was halfway through an embarrassing story about her and Venus in their college days, when a light nudge from Endymion reminded her that the youngsters might not want to spend the whole night listening to her reminisce. She let them go, sending Usagi off with a teasing wink.

"I like him," Serenity announced, smiling as she watched the young man walk their daughter through the first steps of a rowdy traditional dance from Cocoon, which was like a cross between line-dance and samba.

Endymion, who had been silent throughout the entire interview, allowed a protracted pause before he voiced his opinion.

"He has good fashion sense."

"Can you believe that Pegasus Kamen? Crashing a party like this!" Ceres huffed as she watched the exchange. After two hours of nonstop revelry, she and Vesta finally had to pause and rest their sore feet. Now they were lounging in a shady alcove beneath a second-story hallway that ran across the far wall of the ballroom. It was supported by a multitude of slender Corinthian columns, which conveniently served to partition the space below into a haven for tired dancers. Serenity had discovered over the years that it was also the perfect place for a snack buffet.

"I think Usagi-chan invited him," said Vesta, helping herself to a handful of macaroons.

"More like she found him snooping around the grounds and let him in. She'd forgive him for anything, I think."

Ceres hadn't stopped staring at Pegasus Kamen and Usagi since the moment they walked in, and for all her complaints about his perceived breach of etiquette, she couldn't hide the feverish flush of her cheek, the way her breath caught every time the pair looked at each other. It was the same look she had every time it seemed like the two main characters in her favorite drama might finally kiss.

"The shipper doth protest too much," Vesta muttered.

Juno joined them after a few minutes, waving to the dozen or so girls who had surrounded her ever since Pallas had gotten her out on the floor.

"Somebody turned out to be quite the charmer," Ceres observed.

Juno played with the end of her ponytail. "Who'd have thunk?"

Vesta's elbow found her ribs. "You're giving Lady Uranus a run for her money."

"Huh…" Juno muttered, staring after her departing fanclub. "It was all girls?"

"I'm not surprised," Ceres tittered. "You've got that roguish charm that so many men envy. That cavalier carelessness about rushing into a fistfight, or, I don't know, smashing a fine piece of artwork. There's a certain sort of woman who goes wild over your type. Maybe it's because they think they can change you."

"Lay off. It would have melted anyway."

"Uncultured Yankee brute."

"You're just jealous. Of my roguish charm."

Here we go again, thought Vesta. Her attention drifted away from them and down the row of columns. The towering figure of Okitsu Chitose lingered behind one of them, like a giraffe trying to conceal herself behind a twig. With a wave to her friends, who were still bickering, she slipped away.

She was careful to avoid eye contact until she was close enough to speak. Then she realized she hadn't thought of what to say, so she just said, "Hey there."

Chitose started, surprised at being noticed. "H-hello," she managed after a second.

"Tired of dancing?" Vesta asked, though she suspected the girl, like Juno, was too shy to join in. I'll fix that, she thought to herself.

Chitose shrugged. "I don't enjoy it all that much."

"Huh? Why not?"

"Not everybody does. Doesn't it seem foolish, pretending to enjoy a thing because other people think it should be fun? Laughing and smiling because you're supposed to?"

"Oh. I guess," said Vesta. She was beginning to doubt whether coming over here was a good idea.

"It is fun to watch everyone else, though." Chitose's eyes took on a dreamy cast as they wandered across the ballroom. "They're all so graceful. Like a flock of birds."

Vesta joined her, leaning against the other side of the pillar. She rarely paused to study other people—she was usually too busy being the life of the party. Now that she took the time to look, she found there was a mesmerizing beauty in the moving tapestry of dancers.

"As for me, I'm a fish," Chitose mused, as much to herself as to Vesta. "I like the colder, deeper things. I can't speak their language. But I can share in their happiness from here. Better than trying to be one of them. Better than trying to live in a world I don't belong to."

Vesta might have doubted the sentiment, if not for the look of serene contentment on the aqua-haired girl's face. Maybe she really was happier here.

"You don't have to keep me company," Chitose said after a moment. She smiled at Vesta, a smile that, though it was not unkind, fell between them like a curtain.

"I know." Vesta stretched her arms and leaned against the pillar with all the lazy elegance she could muster. She made a point of lingering, to let Chitose know that she wasn't leaving because she'd been dismissed. The music changed, and the flock scattered, then regrouped into different couples.

"That's nice of you," said Chitose. "But I've seen you out there. You've been the center of attention all night. You don't enjoy feeling invisible the way I do."

Vesta's eyes flickered back toward Juno and Ceres for a split second. "It's not an experience I'm used to," she replied carefully. "But it's not always bad to step outside your comfort zone. Otherwise you'll never feel like you belong in anyone else's world."

"Hm. Do I make you uncomfortable?"

"That's not what I meant." Vesta paused to ask herself if she was being honest. "That is, yes. But… you're intriguing."

Chitose colored and became very interested in the floor tiles. "That's nice of you," she repeated.

They lapsed into silence again. It was Chitose who finally broke away. She bade Vesta farewell with a silent nod, and found herself a new pillar further down the line. Vesta watched her go, dumbfounded. Was Chitose leaving because she wanted to be alone? Or was it, as Vesta suspected, because she had such a low opinion of herself that she would never see another person's attentions as anything other than an act of pity?

Either way, there was nothing Vesta could say to breach the gulf between them.

It looked like Juno and Ceres' mock-argument was winding down, so she made her way back to the snack table. She wondered if they even knew she'd left. Then she began to wonder if they knew she was back, but suddenly Juno addressed her.

"Hey, Ves-chan."

"Hm?"

Juno nodded toward a group of Bo'ari congregating around the punch bowl. "For the record, there are naked beaver-people here. Next year, I'm wearing blue jeans."

Usagi laughed breathlessly as she and Pegasus Kamen galloped down the line of clapping dancers and took their place at the end. His eyes never left her face.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked, though the answer was obvious.

She nodded. He noticed that while they were in motion, she practically clung to him, but when they came to a stop and faced each other, she never quite looked right at him. She would look at the edge of his mask, or at the people behind him, but mostly she looked at nothing at all. Her mind was elsewhere. He was bothered by that, more than he felt he had a right to be.

"Something on your mind?"

She flushed, and immediately looked almost at him again. "Oh, no! I was just trying not to mess up the steps."

The line-dance ended, and the music segued into a Coronisian reel. He clasped her hands, and they went twirling across the floor again.

"Do you think," Usagi ventured after a minute or so, "that it's strange to feel longing for a person you met a long time ago? Even if it's someone you only knew for a little while?"

He gave her his most dazzling smile. "No, I don't think that's strange at all. Actually, I… I think it's wonderful to have a bond that survives time and distance. Memories like that are a treasure you can always keep, even if you don't meet again."

She gave him a searching look, as if she suspected he'd been about to say something else. When she spoke, it was with a low voice and an unreadable smile. "I haven't given up on that."

He wasn't sure how to reply. They danced on in quiet contentment, letting the haze of lights and music envelop them. Eventually, though, the suspense of wondering about the mystery stranger from her past goaded him into breaking the silence again.

"That person you used to know might have changed over the years," he pointed out. "You can't always expect to pick up where you left off."

"True," Usagi said thoughtfully. "He might have turned into a real jerk."

He grew flustered. "I just meant that people develop different interests as they get older. So you might be surprised."

"Yeah. That's what makes it fun!"

The dance ended, and he bowed over her hand. "Well. If you do meet him again, I hope he'll appreciate you for who you are now, not just for sentimental attachment."

Her face lit up, and the whole world with it. "And what about you, Pegasus Kamen?" she asked. "What do you... appreciate in a woman?"

He sidestepped all the coarser (albeit truthful) answers that immediately sprang to mind and pondered the question for several seconds before replying, "Her strength and courage. A kind and generous heart. And the will to make her dreams come true."

For a split second, her fingers tightened around his. Then she realized what she was doing, and let go in a hurry.

"I am generous," she said, and he realized she was looking at someone behind him. Instinct told him he was being cornered. He turned his head to see the quartet advancing on him in a wall of satin, silk, and glitter-powder. "That's why I can't keep you all to myself."

Pegasus Kamen only had time to make a small, muffled sound of bewilderment as Ceres grabbed him first. Usagi gave him an impish finger-wiggling wave, and vanished into the crowd.

Saturn had an uncanny talent for hiding the fact that she was avoiding someone, Usagi thought as she made her third lap around the ballroom. Her friend was hard to miss, in that stunning black gown, but every time Usagi caught a glimpse of her, she changed directions and vanished again. All without a moment of eye contact or the slightest change of expression to betray that she knew Usagi was there.

Luck was on her side, though. One of the noble ladies from Chuu stopped Saturn to compliment her shoes (which of course was really just a lead-in to brag about her own,) and held her attention just long enough for Usagi to close the distance between them.

"Saturn!" she cried out, abandoning all dignity to run to her friend's side. She felt the need to justify herself—for what?—but words failed her.

"Are you looking for Pegasus Kamen? I think he's over there," said Saturn, with a vague gesture toward the other side of the room.

Usagi shook her head, suddenly annoyed. "I found him clinging to the windowsill. With a bouquet of flowers. What was I supposed to do, let him fall?"

"It's okay, Usagi-chan. I understand," Saturn assured her, but there was a chill in her voice. It was not spite or condemnation, only the faint sadness of someone who has realized the struggle is no longer worth it. She was giving up. "I understand," she repeated. "You can't help it that you like him."

She turned to go. Usagi's hand flew out and caught her wrist. "Do you know what he said to me back there?"

Saturn glanced back at her with mild curiosity.

"He told me to try and understand your feelings. And that I should appreciate you more."

Saturn gave a visible start and stepped back, clutching her wrist as if she'd been burned.

"I love you, Saturn. You're my best friend." Usagi's lip quivered. "Please don't make me choose between you and him."

"Fine," Saturn choked out. She made a hasty retreat, fighting back the churning darkness that swelled in her breast and burned behind her eyes.

I'm afraid to ask who you'd choose.

"Gah! This is frustrating!" Juno stomped her foot for emphasis.

"You'll get your turn with him," said Ceres. She doubted Pegasus Kamen could keep up with Pallas for much longer. Though she was a foot shorter than him, Pallas's feet bounced across the floor like a pair of ferrets on a sugar high.

"That's not what I meant," Juno grumbled. "Those two can't seem to work their problems out even when they want to. I can't stand seeing Saturn so depressed."

"If only we could help," Ceres sighed with a rueful expression. She tapped a finger to her chin. "What would Venus-sama do?"

Vesta cringed. "I'm not sure that's such a good—"

"I've got it!" Ceres declared, clapping her hands together briskly. "We'll hook Saturn up with a hunk to distract her!"

Vesta rubbed her temples. "That is exactly what Venus would do."

But Ceres would hear none of their objections. She beckoned Pallas over, to Pegasus Kamen's relief, and struck a fighting pose. "Now! We shall commence Operation Enchanted Evening!"

"Don't give it strange names," Juno complained.

Ceres ignored her and pulled them all into a huddle. After a few seconds of fervent whispering, they were satisfied with their plan.

A breathless Pegasus Kamen stumbled over to them. "What are you ladies up to? By the way, you dropped this," he added, handing Pallas one of her hairpins.

"Nothing!" Juno said too loudly. "My turn."

She dragged him into the next dance before he had a chance to protest.

At first, Saturn thought Usagi was following her again. But no, there was the princess with her parents, greeting important guests from the Rukbat system. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling she was being tailed.

Near the bandstand she ran into a group of tall, smartly-dressed aristocrats, who she vaguely recognized as the owners of some big astro-mining conglomerate. Not in the mood for conversation, she gave them a polite curtsy and tried to slip past them. Out of nowhere, a streak of red and black shot from the crowd and slammed into her. She let out a soft cry as she tumbled into the arms of one of the men.

"Perfect!" Ceres whispered to Pallas as they watched the scene unfold. "And now she'll look up into his eyes… 'Oh, thank you!'" she sighed, in a comically bad impression of Saturn's voice. She dropped an octave and made an equally unconvincing attempt to sound masculine. "'It's no trouble at all. How lovely you are! Would you care to accompany me on a stroll through the gardens?' 'Oh, that would be wonderful!' And off they'll go, hand in hand, underneath the starlight! Ro-man-tic!"

Pallas nodded slowly, trying to absorb all the benefit of Ceres' insight. It was a good thing she had the future senshi of love to instruct her in the complexities of human relationships. She wasn't sure she would ever be able to grasp these kinds of things on her own.

Saturn's head spun as the man who had caught her, a broad-shouldered blond with a cigarette in his teeth, set her roughly on her feet. He said nothing, but his quiet sniff, the curl of his lip, were more contemptuous than words could ever be.

Vesta, seeing that her maneuver had backfired, tried to make amends. "It was my fault!" she exclaimed. "I ran into her. Women's shoes, you know, they're impossible to walk in."

"Whatever. Just watch where you're going," the man replied without turning around. He dismissed them with a wave of his hand, flicking ash onto Saturn's dress in the process.

Ceres and Pallas emerged from their hiding place just in time to stop Vesta from throttling him. "Hey, you!" the redhead fumed. "Do you have any idea who she is?"

Saturn's brow furrowed. "Please don't…"

"Jerk! Up close he's not that good-looking anyway," Vesta groused as the others dragged her away, leaving a mortified Saturn to escape alone. They reconvened behind a sofa, Pallas keeping an eye on Saturn while Vesta watched for signals from Juno, who was occupying Pegasus Kamen and, more importantly, monitoring the princess. Juno gave them a covert thumbs-up. Usagi was still busy with her parents.

"That could have gone better," was Ceres' entry for the Understatement of the Year award.

Vesta repeated her apologies, though she was only the executor of the plan and not its architect.

"Ok. New idea. Palla-chan, I'm counting on you."

By the time she reached the lounge area at the far end of the room, Saturn had mostly recovered from the unjust humiliation inflicted upon her. At least her hands had stopped shaking. She couldn't help but be a little irritated at Vesta and the girls, not so much for running into her as for abandoning her so quickly afterward. But no. It wasn't their fault those men were so rude, and Saturn was not childish enough to fly into a tizzy because everyone in the world was not nice to her. She settled herself on a cushioned ottoman, turned her eyes toward the rainbow of cheerful, laughing people, and put the incident out of her mind.

The light rustle of silk skirts alerted her to Ceres' presence. "Hey. Are you all right?" her friend asked gently.

"Yes. Don't worry about me."

"Good!" Ceres chirruped. She dragged Saturn to her feet. "Come on! Pallas and I need your help with something."

Saturn, who knew by now the futility of arguing with Ceres once she'd fixed her mind on a scheme, followed demurely. And there was no doubt this was some sort of scheme. The Quartet were experts at causing mischief, but poor at hiding it. Saturn just hoped she could escape without drawing too much attention to herself this time.

Ceres rehearsed the scenario in her head as she led Saturn up a short flight of steps toward a pair of tall French doors that led out to a balcony overlooking the palace lawn. Pallas should be waiting outside with the young man they'd selected—what was his name again? Once she delivered Saturn, Vesta would enter with a good reason for the two of them to disappear. She measured her pace, trying to time it so they would arrive just before the end of the current song, so the boy would have just enough time to ask Saturn to dance, but not quite enough time to find anyone else.

They swept out the doors onto the empty balcony. Ceres frowned.

Then Pallas popped her head through a door at the other end of the balcony. "Hey, Saturn! I brought something for you. Oh yeah, and Ceres, Vesta said to tell you Lady Venus is dancing on a table. She thinks maybe one of us should, uh, take her out to get some fresh air."

Perfect, Ceres thought. It was just the right size emergency to demand her attention and not Saturn's. "Well, we'd better handle this situation," she said with her best put-upon sigh. "Saturn, you'll have to pardon me for leaving you here with… cupcakes?"

Ceres blinked at the mound of frosted pastries that her friend was proudly holding out to them.

"Pallas! What is this? Where's the guy?"

Pallas's mouth formed a small o. "Right, the plan! Sorry! They just looked so yummy with all that pretty color frosting on top that Pallas had to have one. And then I thought I should share, so I grabbed a few for you guys too, and then I totally forgot about him…"

Ceres was about to light into her when another thought settled like a cold lump in the pit of her stomach. "Wait. Does that mean Venus-sama is really—"

Vesta appeared on the landing with an agitated look on her face. "Now she's got a feather-duster on her head and she's trying to do a Lady Gaga impression. The queen doesn't think it's funny anymore."

"Let's go," Ceres ordered, and the three clamored off back to the ballroom, leaving Saturn alone once again.

Pegasus Kamen maintained a polite smile as Juno launched into yet another tale about her biker buddies. A couple hours ago, he wouldn't have believed she could be this talkative. He admired her enthusiasm, even if he didn't understand a word she was saying. He did wish she would stop stepping on his foot, though.

"So Europa wipes out, of course, and winds up in the hospital with a fractured collarbone. Gali and Indy never let her forget it. All I can say is I tried to stop her. But the worst crash I ever saw would have to be—ack. Sorry." Juno chewed on her lip. "Vesta always tells me I tend to ramble when I get going about bikes."

"It's quite all right," he said graciously, trying not to look too relieved.

"You're a good listener. I can see why Usagi-chan enjoys your company."

That brought a lopsided grin to his face.

"Saturn thinks you're trouble, though."

The grin faded.

"Me, I'm inclined to agree with the princess," Juno went on with a laid-back manner that put him at ease. "Ever since you helped us against Ripidolite, I thought you were all right. So it'd be a real shame if I had to pound you."

So much for being at ease. As the musical number drew to a close, Juno fixed him with a level green stare and a smile that never wavered.

"Don't hurt her, okay?" she whispered.

"I don't plan on it."

"Good. In that case, I'm rooting for you. See you around," she said, giving him a two-fingered salute as she walked away.

When she was gone, his eyes swept the room, seeking the only girl who had truly captivated him this evening. As much as he wanted Usagi's friends to like him, in truth he would have preferred to spend every minute with her. There were Ceres and Vesta over by the bar, amid some commotion—was that Lady Venus on the table? He decided the most respectful thing to do would be to look away. Nearby, Pallas was on a sleep-deprived sugar high, chasing the bits of light reflecting off the chandeliers and cracking herself up. There were Luna and Artemis, listening eagerly to Sailor Mau's tidbits of news from their homeworld. Where they were, the king and queen must be nearby… and there she was, nestled between her parents. The three were embroiled in a discussion with a purple-haired woman who he thought he recognized as the Consul of Lethe.

That meant she was much to busy to talk to him. He'd expected as much. She was a princess, after all.

He was left to wander without a purpose. The music and lights, which before seemed so magical, had grown dull. The crowd of strangers was oddly oppressive. This was Usagi's world, and he found himself wondering how she could stand to live in it day after day.

His aimless walk carried him past a doorway that led out to a small balcony. He slipped outside, grateful for a few calm, quiet moments where the only light came from the gentle moon and winking stars, and the only music was the low moan of the wind.

He suddenly realized that he was not alone.

Saturn acknowledged him only with a glance. He took a few cautious steps toward her and leaned on the railing, pretending to stare up at the sky. Somewhere in the distance, a tree frog trilled.

When she did speak, it startled him. "Usagi-chan told me what you said."

His chest contracted. Now that he thought about it, it shouldn't be any surprise that Usagi would share everything with Saturn.

"If you're so concerned with my feelings, perhaps you might refrain from working your charms on her, rather than placing all the onus on her to resist them."

"Charms? What charms?"

She gave him a dry look. "Don't fish for compliments."

He wasn't sure whether to laugh or tear his hair out. Until now, he had shrugged off every spurned offer of help, every insinuation about his character or his motives. He had even admired her, in a way, for not trusting him. It showed good sense. But tonight her words nettled him.

"When did we get off on the wrong foot?" he asked. "Was it something I did?"

They both knew she had no answer. She leaned heavily on the railing, eyes seeking some point in the distance. Her pale shoulders curled in and her hands slipped around her elbows. He had seen Saturn the killer and Saturn the healer. He had caught a few glimpses of Saturn the faithful friend. But this was the first time he had seen her look vulnerable. Strong, but weary. She was human, after all, and not a goddess. Who was he to demand an account of all her feelings, rational or otherwise? And yet her insults stung, perhaps because they came not from a goddess or glaive-wielding soldier, but from a pretty girl in a ball gown who just then seemed entirely too old for her age.

"You seem like you're cold," he observed.

She straightened. "I'm not."

They lapsed into silence again. Downstairs, Artemis announced the final song of the night, a classic waltz.

"I'm not being fair," Saturn sighed in a barely audible voice. "She's right. I'm the one who made it into a choice between you and me."

"Suppose you and I were friends," he ventured. "Then there wouldn't have to be any choosing."

She studied him with a strange new gleam in her eyes, measuring him, for the first time, on his own merit. "You told me once that if you were sincere, I'd see your shine. Since then I feel like I've only seen a dim reflection. Other people have a lot to say about you, not all of it flattering." He flinched. She could only be referring to Ripidolite's accusation that he was a Moirae informant. "And yet," Saturn continued, "the man himself remains an enigma."

He extended a hand in invitation. "Then let's get to know one another."

She glanced at the hand, then at him. "I don't hate you," she declared suddenly. "There was nothing you ever did to make me hate you. Understand?"

He did. It meant that no matter what he did to prove himself, nothing would change between them, because she held no personal grudge. She couldn't afford to trust him. The stakes were too high.

A smile flitted over his lips, and he let his hand fall. To his surprise, she caught it.

"It would be a shame to miss the last dance."

Yang Zhi Peng plunked down in a chair beside Miruki with a heavy sigh. "I think Lady Pallas stood me up. She asked me to wait for her and then never came back."

"Mm," said Miruki, who was paging through photos on her camera. Her fingers flew over the buttons, sorting, cropping, and adjusting light levels. Her lips moved as she worked, muttering unintelligible words.

"You've been lugging that thing around all night. Why don't we get up and stretch our legs for a while?"

"You go ahead. I'm busy."

"Come on. Five minutes."

Miruki's fingers continued their frantic tapping. "I'm sorry, but I just went through an ugly breakup. I wouldn't want to ruin our friendship by using you as a rebound guy."

For her sake, Zhi Peng made an effort not to laugh out loud. "Souga-san, I'm not asking you to marry me. It's just a dance."

Miruki stopped pushing buttons and hovered in indecision.

"Look, I won't push it. Say the word and I'll leave you alone. But… just because you're sad about breaking up, doesn't make it wrong for you to have a little fun."

She put down the camera, lifted her eyes, and smiled her first real smile in a long time.

"Okay."

A single ray of moonlight spilled through the window, across the milky white surface of a baby grand piano, at just the right angle to illuminate Uranus at the keys. It gleamed off her platinum blond hair and pooled in the flowing, gauzy sleeves of her blouse, transforming her into an ethereal spirit, a zephyr. Her head was slightly lifted, eyes closed as she breathed in the clouds of music floating up around her, and her fingers on the ivory were soft as a lover's caress. Beside her, obscured by silver-kissed shadows, Neptune cradled a glossy violin. The notes that flowed from it were too pure to be earthly, the sinuous curving of her bow over the strings too sensual to be entirely sublime.

Into that magical atmosphere stepped Saturn with Pegasus Kamen. He settled his hand on her waist as she grasped his shoulder, and for once, those clear, dark eyes looked back at him without weighing or analyzing. Nothing to gain, nothing to lose. Though she knew better than to let down her guard, the low lights, beautiful music, and the comforting presence of the others around her lulled her into a sense of dreamy contentment.

Once they brushed shoulders with Juno and Vesta, who at first seemed too absorbed in their own conversation to take much note of them. But as they glided past, Saturn caught Vesta's encouraging smile, and when they turned, Juno gave Pegasus Kamen a thumbs up. They all wanted this to work out.

"Usagi-chan is surrounded by such good friends," Pegasus Kamen noted.

"She's easy to love."

"But it's not always easy to love her," he muttered with a dry half-smile.

Saturn looked at him archly. You have no idea, she thought.

They twirled past Luna and Artemis, who acknowledged them with a nod. Luna's gaze followed them with veiled curiosity. (Artemis, for his part, had eyes for little else but his wife, of whom Venus's latest debacle had granted him a fresh appreciation.)

"Speaking of the princess… where is she?"

Saturn gestured toward the sofa by the snack table, where Usagi was nestled between Pallas and Ceres, fast asleep. Pegasus Kamen watched her with such an expression of tenderness that Saturn wanted to believe it was real. They hovered there for a little while, until it occurred to him that perhaps he was being rude by ignoring his partner. He turned his attention back to Saturn.

Having partnered with Usagi through many a dance lesson with her tutors, Saturn was actually more used to having the lead position. The unfamiliarity of following made her cautious at first, and Pegasus Kamen seemed hesitant to try anything too fancy. But before long, they learned to read one another's cues. Her feet glided across the floor with sprite-like nimbleness, and a rosy glow rose in her pale cheeks as they pivoted and spun. More than one eye in the ballroom was on them now. A look passed between them and they separated, turning back to back with a dramatic flourish.

Right, this is what fun feels like, Saturn thought to herself. I had almost forgotten.

"You're a good dancer," Pegasus Kamen remarked as their hands clasped once more.

"Thank you. Although I'm not quite as lively as Usagi-chan."

He stared for a second. Was she actually teasing him? Emboldened, he risked making a joke. "Don't worry. I won't tell her you stole my last dance."

"That's my line," said Saturn, wagging a finger at him. He took the opportunity to twirl her under his arm.

"Ah, this is no good. I don't want to be your rival."

She sniffed in mock derision. "Don't flatter yourself."

Like the turning of the seasons, he felt the change before he saw it. Something shook and tumbled loose inside him, cold raindrops falling from a tree branch after a storm. Then he realized she was smiling at him. It was brief. But it happened.

The music had faded. As he released her hand, a strange tingling swelled in his chest. He felt seized by something like a prophetic trance and words rushed to his lips, old words that seemed new, as if the long-dead author had penned them just for her. "See where at intervals the firefly's spark/glimmers, and melts into the fragrant dark; Gilds a leaf's edge one happy instant, then/leaves darkness all a mystery again!"

She studied him briefly. She hadn't pegged him for a poetry lover. It was the first new thing she'd learned about him that she unreservedly liked.

Dropping a graceful curtsy, she disappeared into the shadows.

Mokushi dove behind a pillar as Saturn passed, and held her breath until she was sure she hadn't been noticed.

Her shorter companion twisted her braid, a worried look on her face. "I am not sure why we are behaving as if we've done something wrong."

"I almost think she's onto me. The way she looked at me earlier…"

"Kasuga-san says there's no way any of them could know," Shizuka replied solemnly, as if quoting scripture.

"Kasuga says this, Kasuga says that. What do you think?"

Shizuka gave her a blank stare, as if the concept of independent thought were more than she could comprehend. Mokushi sighed in annoyance.

"Never mind. C'mon, let's find the others and get out of here." She spotted Chitose across the room and started walking.

"I would say that things are going well," was Shizuka's analysis after careful reflection. "We have made contact with the princess and her guardians. It's important that we establish a rapport with them, and remain vigilant for the moment when we can change history."

Mokushi grimaced. "Kasuga-chan's words, almost verbatim."

Shizuka made no retort for a minute or two. When she spoke again, her voice was soft. "Did it hurt you, Mokushi-san? Seeing them together."

The white-haired girl gave a start, then smiled and shook her head. "Nah. I'm glad to know how it began, even if…"

She let the rest of the sentence die unspoken.

Morning found Usagi draped in an undignified pose across her bed, where her father had carried her the night before. Her guardians had stayed awake just enough to undo their transformations before collapsing beside her. Luckily, there was room in her double California king-sized bed for all of them. Junko had somehow turned sideways during the night, and was laying with her head in Beth's lap and Seresu's foot in her face. Atena had become Usagi's pillow once again, and had yet to notice that the princess was drooling in her hair. Diana alone remained vigilant, poised at the foot of the bed. She was prepared to warn them of any danger, but alas, she did not recognize danger when it approached.

The sound of a shutter made the young cat jump. She looked up to see Venus in the doorway, remarkably sober and twirling the strap of her camera around her finger.

"Venus-sama, what are you—?"

The leader of the Sailor Team displayed her perfect white teeth in a dazzling, evil smile. "It's called blackmail, sweetie. You never know when it might come in handy." And then she was gone.

"With guardians like these," Diana muttered, "who needs youma?"