The knock on his door earned an irritated grunt at first. He was sleeping. His orderlies knew to leave him alone when he was sleeping. But the knocking came again, obnoxiously persistent. Nnoitra turned over and pulled the covers over his head, still refusing to answer the summons. Was probably Tesla… annoying little shit. Burrowing into his pillow, he tried to get back to sleep…

Thunk

Nnoitra's eye flew open as the door shuddered with a particularly forceful knock. Growling, the ex general threw off his covers and rolled out of bed, remembering as he marched across the unfamiliar room that he wasn't at home. This was Mercia, and whoever was knocking on his door better have the balls to back up that damn disrespectful pounding. Yanking open the door, he glared down at the maid who stood there, then sneered as he recognized her.

"Didn't I tell ya to fuck off already? I don't need ya to light my fireplace."

The maid looked distinctly unimpressed by his menacing look and hostile posture. Gone was that nervous little thing from their first meeting. While she remained polite, it was a very thin veneer of civility that she wore. She again offered his bare chest a dirty look before replying in clipped tones.

"I'm only here to inform you that the princess has insisted upon your company."

She muttered something else underneath her breath along the lines of god knows why, but Nnoitra wasn't really paying attention to her anymore. The princess wanted his company? Ah damn it, he was really being woken up for this shit?

"Tell her she can find someone else ta play with. I'm recuperatin'," he replied.

The maid smirked, and a moment later, Nnoitra understood why.

"She also told me to mention that if you felt too ill to show, she'd go and ask Szayel for something to help you feel better."

The ex general stood there, swaying slightly on his feet as he absorbed both the threat and the extreme satisfaction with which the woman delivered it. And while it killed him to concede to the princess' blackmail, he really didn't want Szayel putting anything else in him.

"Fine," he rumbled, shooting her a scathing look, "Tell 'er I'm coming. Lemme get dressed."

"Appropriately, if you please. Sir," she replied, adding the respectful title almost as an afterthought. As Nnoitra turned away, she spoke up again, sounding reluctant to deliver directions. "It's down the hall. Just follow the stairs up. Her room is at the top."

Nnoitra was reminded all over again why he avoided women as he shut the door on her. Passive aggressive bitches. If he ever got the chance to murder the Kuchikis, he'd off their impertinent maid as well. He was torn between making it drawn out and bloody, or very short and impersonal, since something of such low station didn't really deserve his attention. Maybe he'd wait til they took Mercia and have one of his soldiers do it. Yeah… that sounded pretty fucking nice actually. Grinning at the idea, Nnoitra fetched his abandoned clothes and pulled them back on, though he was hit by the smell of his soiled clothing as he did so.

Ugh… he didn't have much in the way of outfits, so he'd have to be careful about them. Who did the laundry anyways? Ah hell… he'd probably have to pay a tailor to make him some new clothes, much as he hated paying for clothing. Money could be put to better use, but he was supposed to be keeping up his appearance. Running a comb through his hair to make himself look presentable, he marched out of his room, still feeling sullen about the blackmail.

As he walked down the hallway, he privately wondered if the king and queen had suites here too, since the prince and princess lived relatively close by. Though "relatively" began to seem distant as the hall continued without end. He almost missed the staircase, small as it was. He didn't know what he'd been expecting. Something grander perhaps? But no. It was just a series of little stone steps that wound up and around, meandering in a twisted fashion, lit by the same magical sconces that he'd found in the rest of the palace. And if he'd thought the hallway was long, these seemed to go on forever. The princess must have a remarkably… athletic constitution if she climbed and descended these each day.

There were doors occasionally, leading off to unknown parts, but he ignored these. She was, after all, at the top. But as he went, he couldn't help but wonder at the architecture of the place. These stairs felt… strange. They weren't the wraparound build found between levels, nor the spiraling stairwell of a tower. Their pattern was seemingly random, sometimes straight, sometimes crooked and winding, and he quickly lost all sense of direction. The Mercian palace was a nightmare for those unfamiliar with its build, as he was. And though he wouldn't admit it… still weak from his poisoning, he was beginning to feel tired. So it was with relief that Nnoitra finally reached his intended destination. There, at the top of the stairs, was a landing. And at the end of that landing, there was a door.

It was painted a deep rose hue.

Nnoitra just stopped and wondered at the unusual dichotomy the Mercian princess presented. On one hand, she seemed every bit the frivolous noble woman she was supposed to be. On the other… he couldn't imagine a princess climbing those steps multiple times a day. Again, he was reminded that these royals were not the typical crop of idle-brained, self-entitled fops. Though… it was entirely possible that there was another way to her room and that maid had given him the hardest way out of spite. Catching his breath, which was slightly uneven by this point, Nnoitra knocked.

An extraordinarily petite woman opened the door a few moments later, gazing up at him with serene indigo eyes. Her skin was fair and her hair black, and altogether, her demeanor reminded him greatly of the king.

"Rukia, is that him?" the familiar, bright voice of the princess called from somewhere further inside. Rukia glanced over her shoulder, then back up at him, before finally stepping aside to admit him.

"Yes, it is. And I still disapprove of this venture," the woman replied quietly. Her voice was much deeper than he would have expected, but it wasn't masculine. It was just… rich. She must have been older than she looked.

"Oh good! I've been waiting forever."

"Perhaps you should consider relocating, princess? Your quarters are a little… out of the way…"

"But that's no fun Rukia. I like my room. Plus it means I don't get interrupted often."

"Of course…"

"It's like my very own fortress stronghold! Isn't that neat?"

"Actually princess, it makes ya vulnerable," Nnoitra cut in, interrupting their rather onesided dialogue. Yachiru seemed to be dominating the conversation, completely ignoring any valid points her companion brought up. And as he stepped further inside her quarters, he confirmed this point.

While it wasn't a tower, it might as well have been one. The door he'd gone through was the only entrance to her room, which was very large and round in shape. A full quarter of it was taken up by curved glass doors that opened up onto a balcony with assorted potted plants. He'd investigate later to orient himself.

"No it doesn't," she replied petulantly. She was seated… or rather, kneeling on a plush pillow before a low-slung table in the middle of the room. There was a small platter of pastries, and a pot of tea steamed gently atop a heated tea stand, which kept it warm. Nnoitra's stomach tightened at the sight of it. Tea… pink hair…. His body panged at the memories. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to walk over and sit down cross legged on the provided pillow.

"Yes. It does. And would ya care to explain why ya dragged me all the way up to have a tea party?"

"What's wrong with tea parties?" she replied with a disarming smile as she reached over to pour herself a cup. Nnoitra's was already set up, and when she'd finished serving herself, she brought the teapot over to hover near his cup. "Would you like some?" the princess offered.

"No."

She poured him tea anyways.

Bitch.

"Don't tell me you don't like tea," she warbled cheerfully as she set the pot back on the stand and moved it to the side, "Ulqui loves it, so you're in trouble if you don't develop a taste for it."

"Pardon princess, but I was put off it fer good last night," he replied sourly as he eyed the liquid. She didn't seem like the type to poison someone's tea… but….

"Oh right! You were with Szayel. Yeah, he's kind of funny about that kind of thing when he gets excited. I think he's taken a liking to you."

"He what?" Nnoitra asked, eyes narrowing. How did she know anyways?

"Well he doesn't usually spend so much time with new poison testers. Did you two talk?"

"Yeah… how do you know we spent 'so much time' together?"

The princess appeared to ignore his question, looking suitably impressed by his reply.

"Wow. He's definitely interested then. He rarely 'deigns to grace the common servants' with his attentions," she said, putting on airs as she mimicked his attitude, then giggled when she'd finished.

Nnoitra's mood wasn't nearly so effervescent. He stared across the table at the girl, lips curving down unconsciously.

"And… what does this 'interest' mean?" he asked, unsettled. The princess looked up from her tea and offered him a cheeky smile.

"Oh, just that you're in for hell."

"Yachiru," Rukia cut in, reprimanding. The princess pouted, looking over at what Nnoitra now guessed to be her lady in waiting.

"Aw, Rukia. I was being nice too. I could have used a worse word."

"Such words are not suited to a lady of stature," Rukia replied.

"Oh don't be a wet blanket. I know you have a sense of humor deep down."

"I am preparing you for life as a queen. No one will marry such a wild woman. You will bring dishonor to your parents."

Yachiru's playful smile faltered, and her mood abruptly changed. Her eyes went to the teacup she held, boring into the amber liquid as if she could lose herself in its depths. Her posture was stiff, hunted, and her delicate hands trembled ever so slightly, though Nnoitra couldn't name the emotion. Not immediately anyways. Her voice gave it away soon enough.

"Yeah? Well that's bullshit, Rukia. Cuz I'm the princess of Mercia. And if they want political ties to our wealth… if they want an alliance with us… then they can just suck it up and accept what they get. I'm not going to be someone I'm not just to make someone else happy, since I'm never going to be happy. I refuse to be an ornament," Yachiru replied quietly, but her words oozed with resentment.

She drank her tea then, not speaking up again until she'd finished it off. Her fingers still shook with tightly leashed anger and energy as she poured herself a new cup, but she didn't explode. She remained quite controlled. Tense perhaps, and scowling ever so slightly, but controlled.

"I want to chat with Nnoitra alone," was all the princess said when she did find her voice again. She didn't meet the small woman's eyes, though Rukia offered her a look of resignation.

"Yes, my lady," she replied. As she departed, sadness seemed to swathe her dainty form, but it might have been nothing more than his imagination. Nnoitra was left in an awkward atmosphere after their little spat with the distinct impression that this was a long running argument, something that had been festering for years. He raised an eyebrow at the recalcitrant girl before him, who still brooded over her tea and the pastries, which she'd dug into now.

"So, the little Mercian princess is unsatisfied with her lot," he said, tone slightly mocking. She was throwing a fuss over this? She would be cared for her entire life. She would never see hardship. It was petty gripes like this he found so amusing… and so irritating.

Yachiru looked up, gaze cutting.

"Do not mock me. You are not a woman. You could never understand."

"Thank god I don't have to."

"So you're a misogynist. Figures. Doesn't Amistri have female soldiers though?"

"We have a few. Those who are crazy enough to throw themselves into a unit. Girls are encouraged to attend the Academy for the first five or six years. It gives them better character, makes them better members of society. But past that, women don't have a place in war. The ones who push forward and make it… they were born into the wrong bodies. Should have been men."

The princess seemed to take offense at this statement, for she promptly rose, hands clenched as she looked down at him. He stared back up at her, entertained by this indignant display.

"You're wrong," she insisted hotly, crossing her arms, "Because I know that women are just as capable as men in a fight. I'd like to see you take on my mother."

"Your mother?" Nnoitra almost laughed. Then he remembered the unease he felt when he'd met her gaze.

"Yeah, queen Yoruichi."

… Yoruichi… That name… No… couldn't be…

"The queen's name is Yoruichi?" he asked, disbelieving.

"Are you daft? I just said it was. Anyways, my mum could trounce you any day."

"The general of Mercia… the one who orchestrated your troops… was a woman?"

"Still is, last time I checked," Yachiru said sarcastically, but she was smiling again, apparently pleased that he was so surprised, "But yeah, she's the defacto war general when stuff like that happens. Didn't you know? She Amazonian."

"Oh fuck… that's just… we never saw her. We thought she was a man," Nnoitra said, stumbling over his words.

"Well do you really think father would send his wife into battle? They compromised. You should have seen her too. She wanted to be out there."

"Ah shit… this is humiliating…"

"Oh get off your high horse and accept that you lost to a woman."

"How did Byakuya end up with an Amazon bride?" Nnoitra demanded. He'd heard of the matriarchal nation, but they were secretive and resisted outside incursions with legendary fierceness. The bow and arrow were their primary weapon of choice, but it was rumored that they were quite adept with hand to hand combat as well. And strangely enough… the nationality of the king's bride had never really been publicized. She'd remained an enigmatic figure. Perhaps this explained it.

"We were the most convenient nation to ally with. Amazonia doesn't lack for military might or resources, but she does require a trading partner for certain types of manufactured goods. The Amazons may be reclusive, but they aren't foolish. They know that if they don't keep abreast of technological advances, they will be left behind by progress and eventually conquered. So they're starting to come out of isolation," Yachiru explained. She seemed rather knowledgeable for a princess. Definitely not as airheaded as she acted. Hm…

"It's still damn shameful that we lost to you, a merchant nation," he grumbled. Yachiru rolled her eyes and sat down again, reaching for a pastry.

"Look, there are reasons why we still exist. Why some other nation hasn't taken us over yet. Your loss just cemented our credibility, that's all."

"Oh really? I suppose Mercia has a network of agents listening for murmurs of treachery and war? Crushing that dissent before it has a chance ta become something?"

Yachiru smiled, lips tipping up and eyes sparkling at his skeptical comment. Her expression made him wonder.

"Now why would I tell you? I mean, you're here to kill us after all, right?"

She leaned in conspiratorially, looking positively thrilled by the idea that she was sharing tea with her would be assassin. Nnoitra blinked, sitting back and putting distance between them.

"For fucks sake, what is wrong with you people?" he said after recovering from his initial surprise. Did everyone know? Apparently so. Because if the princess was telling him so blatantly, he could be sure the other royals were aware.

"Hm? What do you mean? I think it's exciting. You're bound to be amazing since you were the one sent to murder us. They don't send just anyone to murder nobility," she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"You're not supposed to think it's 'exciting,'" he hissed, "You're supposed ta do away with me. That's what happens to assassins. They either do the job, or they get done in themselves."

"But that's no fun either," she said, grinning up at him. She looked about ready to burst with energy. "See, if we killed you, then I wouldn't be able to ask a favor from you."

A favor. So, they'd come to the real reason for why he was here. Nnoitra's eye narrowed as he regarded the excitable girl, wondering what it was she would ask.

"What d'ya want from me?"

"Promise not to laugh?" she asked, giving him a fierce look in turn.

"Depends on what ya ask."

"Fine."

Yachiru gathered herself up, standing again and looking every bit the princess she was. It was hard to take her that way sometimes; she didn't act particularly regal with her casual way of speaking and her habit of wearing her emotions on her sleeve. But standing now, she suddenly took on a stately air. Pointing straight at him, she ordered, "Teach me how to fight."

There was a pause as Nnoitra processed her request- though really, it was more of an order –before reacting.

"Yer jokin', right?" he sneered.

"Do I look like I am?" the princess replied, looking down at him seriously. The look in her eyes was absolutely dead set. Nnoitra whistled.

"Yer fuckin' mental, girl."

"I'm quite sane, thank you very much," she retorted, scowling. He grinned.

"Princess, ya couldn't handle me if ya wanted to."

"I thought you might say something like that, so I came prepared to bargain."

"Oh really? Cuz I can promise ya there ain't nothing you got to bargain with."

It was Yachiru's turn to smile, and she did so promptly, beaming with the secret knowledge that she did indeed have a bargaining chip or two.

"But that's where you're wrong. I know the situation you've gotten yourself into with Ulqui. Brother's got a few… odd tastes. Now he's interested in you too. Same kind of interest Szayel has. And Nnoi, you're going to need all the help you can get with those two."

When he still looked at her strangely, she sighed in exasperation, whirling around and marching over to her dresser. Yanking it open, she began to pull out clothes, which he idly noted looked remarkably unfeminine.

"I can see you're not going to understand unless I show you," she grumbled to herself.

"No… I get it. I think. I just don't get… how? How do you know?" he said, trying to understand. Was this common knowledge? Or did she have particular connections? She didn't seem like some isolated girl who spent her days locked away in her room. She seemed too informed, too…

"Because I talk to people. Because I want to know what's happening in my own kingdom. Because I want to be someone… not a pretty china doll, too fragile and too ignorant to help herself. And because some day, I will be someone's possession. Someone's pawn. This is the society I was raised in, and these are the expectations set out for me as a 'lady of stature.' I wish to god I could have been born in Amazonia, but I wasn't, so I have to make do. And if mother won't teach me, then I'll teach myself."

Yachiru leaned against her dresser, hands clenched up again. She was a bit more vitriolic now that her maid was gone, and there was something about that sharp honesty that appealed to him. He did lift an eyebrow as she glanced over her shoulder at him, eyes clear and appraising.

"Come help me with my dress. I want to change."

"You sure that's proper, milady? Letting a man undress you?" he drawled, casting her a lewd look. She sniffed haughtily at him.

"All of a sudden you're talking formal. You don't fool me. Up until now, you've been comfortable around me, haven't you? Anyways, Rukia's not here… she's the one who usually helps me, so you'll have to do."

And… to his surprise, she was right. He hadn't thought about it. He'd been blunt with Ulquiorra earlier this morning due to his illness, and the maid wasn't worth the effort, vindictive bitch. But the princess? What excuse did he have with her? From the start, they'd been bantering. Must've been the way she talked. She didn't talk like royalty.

"Oh for the love of- Nnoitra, I order you to help me take this goddamn corset off or so help me I will-"

Her tirade was cut off as said garment restricted her breath, forcing her to lean against her dresser as she fought off a faint. When she'd finally cooled off a tad and collected herself, she straightened again, offering him a rueful smile.

"Please?"

Oh. Wasn't she cute. Bipolar was what she was….

"Mm… what were you gonna threaten?" he asked.

"Ah… well… recently I've been getting pretty good at knots."

"Sounds kinky."

"Not that way you pervert."

"So?" he inquired, rising from his cross legged position to stalk over to her languidly.

"Well, I was going to threaten to tie you to Moonwhisper's saddle and let him take you for a bit of a ride," she admitted as he reached her. Finding the laces on her corset, he began to undo them. She didn't seem particularly concerned to have him unlacing her dress.

"Oh yeah? Little bitty thing like you, manhandling me?"

She tilted her head back, looking up at him. With her odd hair color, it was reassuring to look into eyes of a perfectly normal color. They were a warm shade, a kind of mahogany brown and bright with personality. She smiled up at him charmingly before straightening and replying.

"Well, that's what Yammy's for. I figure if he can manhandle dangerous beasts, he can manhandle you too."

"Huh… so why'd you name that monster Moonwhisper anyways?" Nnoitra asked, humoring her for the moment. No one could manhandle him. Didn't matter how bulky or intimidating they looked.

"I think it's a pretty name, don't you?" was her rather disarming reply, "And he's not a monster. He's a sweety."

"Sweety?" There were many adjectives he could think of using with the unicorn. Sweety was not one of them. Not by a longshot. He distantly recalled Yammy's words: the princess fell in love with'm as soon as she lay eyes on him, bless her heart. Oh yes. That clinched it. She was a strange girl, like the rest of her family apparently.

"Yes! Oh, I know. I'll take you to the royal bestiary and introduce you to the others. We can talk there."

Nnoitra finished undoing her corset laces and as the garment sagged, she gave him a little shove backwards, holding up the front of her dress with her other hand.

"Go turn around. I don't want you looking."

"Mm… yer placin' an inordinate amount of faith in a 'pervert' as you say."

"Yeah, but I know you're screwed if you harm me. And in case you were wondering, harm in the case of your particular curse is subjective. It's defined by both your intentions and by the person on the receiving end of the action."

"Lookin' never harmed no one," he retorted.

"Yeah… well it makes me feel dirty. And I don't want you thinking of me as female."

"Tch, little girl like you don't interest me anyhow," he said, but turned. It was true, too. Young young women weren't really his thing. 'Specially not girls who'd get his ass in all sorts of trouble. Now her mother on the other hand… haha, still not worth the pain, but she was more up his alley.

Behind him, cloth rustled as the princess dressed.

"Ok…" she said after a minute, "Done. You can look now."

He turned, regarding her change in appearance. He supposed she looked fairly boyish in her new garb, dressed in a doublet and pants. Her feet were now stuffed into boots, though they couldn't hide how dainty her feet were, and her face was too feminine to pass as a boy's. Though she'd bound her chest, at best, she would be considered androgynous. Especially with that ridiculous hair color.

… which reminded him. Magic. She had it, or at least, she had the potential. And he wondered… did she perhaps have something more? Did she somehow express it unconsciously like he? It was just too strange… how he'd relaxed around her without thinking until she'd pointed it out. And he didn't like it… didn't like the idea that he might have been manipulated somehow without knowing.

"Ya look good kid," he said as she waited expectantly for some reaction. What the hell. He'd throw her a bone. Tell her what she wanted to hear. At his words, she brightened.

"Really? You know, I always wanted to be a boy, since no one is going to take me seriously as a girl in this society. I mean, if there was any conceivable chance I could run away to Amazonia, I would do it, but there isn't really, so I'm being realistic. I keep asking Szayel but he refuses to turn me into one. Says he can't, but I know he's lying. He's an Archmage. He can do practically anything."

Szayel… urgh… But that reminded him…

"Yer bargain. Ya never did get around to finishing it," he reminded her, and she frowned, smacking a fist into the flat of her other hand.

"Oh that's right. Damn, I got distracted. Well see, you've got something I want, and I've got something you need. I figure, let's strike a deal, right? You teach me how to fight, and I'll help you survive here. You're a lone assassin, trapped in a castle full of enemies. And you've managed to attract the interest of both brother and Szayel. And as I'm pretty sure you've learned, they're both sadists, though Ulqui's a closet sadist since he's supposed to be all proper and princely. So things are looking pretty grim for you right now. Between the two of them, they'll eat you alive. But that's where I come in!"

She grinned, plucking something off her dresser top and walking over to her closet. It was, he noticed, an antiquated looking skeleton key dangling from a ribbon looped through the top.

"You need an ally, Nnoitra. Someone with connections, and who doesn't want to see you writhing in pain or dead."

She turned the key, and there was a click as the closet unlocked. He frowned, skeptical.

"I don't see how that helps me. What I need is a way to kill you lot, not-"

His words died on his lips.

Yachiru opened the door, and what waited on the other side was definitely not a closet. As she removed her key and tucked it into her shirt, she indicated he should pass through, looking gleeful.

"I knew I'd have to show you. Hear me out before you judge, Nnoitra. This castle has secrets… and if you have the patience, I can acquaint you with them too."

As he stared into the darkness, gathering his thoughts, he was forced to reconsider the slight young woman before him and her whimsical offer. Crazy little bitch. She was off her fuckin' rockers, but… she laid a rather persuasive premise.

"Alright princess. I'm listenin'," Nnoitra finally said.

A/N: Ah… I finally got to introduce you to one of my favorite characters in this fic. Lucky ducks, it's thanks to her that you get a fast update. My muse is rather fond if this character's quirks.

Yes, you may diagnose her with typical modern princess angst, though she also harbors some atypical genderbending desires. Whether she will get her wish some day remains to be seen. I think the rest of the chapter is pretty self explanatory.

See you in the next update, which may or may not be soon. Depends on how distracted I get by roleplaying. *Glees* *w* Xylexia dear, I swear I'll pay you more attention now that I'm done with this chapter. Hope you like it