The Purpose of Conflict

by Vickers-Vimy-1919

Forced into war, the Empire fights enemies on all sides. Their only ally in the time of crisis, the exiled Kingdom of Albion, seeking strength to restore the crumbling Commonwealth and return to the Home Isles. For Tanya, she finds an ally in the exiled Prince Gabriel. Unsure of his or the Commonwealth's true intentions for the war, the Empire, or herself.

12. Ch 12: How Little We Know

The Purpose of Conflict: Chapter Twelve- How Little We Know

07/11/1924 / Alexandria, Dominion of North Afrika / Viceroy's Palace, Reserved office / 00:42

Housekeeper Sanders picked up the phone's receiver, already frustrated with whoever had called at such a late hour. Another twenty minutes of work on the Lechret codes and she could have stopped for the night, boosted by a morning off promised to her by Her Majesty. It would be most egregious if this was not an emergency, but they would not have pushed through the call if it was anything less.

"Housekeeper Sanders speaking." Despite any biases, she never allowed herself to sound unprofessional.

"Miss Canvel, I was not expecting to hear from you until this business in Dacia was settled. What do you have to report?" The younger woman answered, speaking with a hint of distress. That improbable detail meant something horrible had to have occurred. "Dear, what have you found?"

The voice on the other end lead Miss Sanders through the process of discovery.

"You snuck into His Highnesses bedroom? While he was asleep?" Sanders listened further, sighing when her false conclusion was made evident. "No, I suppose you're right. He doesn't have a record of drinking. What did you find then?"

Again, she found herself making a pre-emptive assumption. Responding with a sentence laced in sarcasm. "I think your judgment is off if you called to report His Highness and Miss Pierre have coupled."

Sanders hummed as the full exclamation was made.

"And you're positive it was blood she was cleaning off his boots and jacket in the ensuite? Of course not, I just want to be certain. Did you find anything other than a gun and Dacian money?" The answer was negative. The same evaluation was made for the watch and Germanic pistol, with no names or hints at an obvious suspect.

Sanders pinched her nose and drew on a stressed breath. This job could never be easy for the maids. It was an unofficial rule they had to endure by the nature of their work. She made a flurry of notes on her pad. A full report would need to be made if it was wise to make a clear image.

"The Empire's military police will know who it was soon if they don't already. I want you to stay close to His Highness for the time being. I'll send some girls over to investigate this matter. See what you can learn from those two for now. What else can you tell me?"

A gradual picture of the events began to take form. "Serebryakov: S-E-R-E, K-O-V? Thank you, my dear. Yes, keep tabs on her. We'll need to get an interview out of her to see what she knows."

Sanders finished adding the details to her notes. Complete with a timeline and possible witnesses they could use to their benefit. "I'll let Her Majesty know immediately. I assume she will want to oversee this matter personally. Princess Rachel is here so I assume she'll attend. No, I'll contact Prince James, he has business in Berun I believe. I doubt he'll go down to Dacia, however."

"I'll phone in the morning with a cover story for us." Canvel spoke further on that point, giving her suggestion that was near perfect. "A wonderful idea Miss Canvel. I'll propose it to Her Majesty on your behalf."

Then Canvel asked for something that was rare in this profession - an opinion.

Sanders took a deep breath. It was too early for a conclusion on these events to be made – let alone guessed at. The youngest of the immediate royal family was not one to act out. His past transgressions ceased completely after he entered military service. To go off his character would suggest an accident, self-defence or hopefully a misunderstanding. They would not know what to do until they understood what happened, or if they should act at all.

"I'm not sure if he did anything Miss Canvel. But I assume Her Majesty will want us to get involved regardless."

07/11/1924 / Bucharest, Kingdom of Dacia / Palace of Dacia, Private Bedroom / 07:26

Gabriel's first thought of the day pertained to the unknown mass on top of him. The answer came when that force groaned and revealed itself to be Peggie. It was a mutual emotion, the lead within his limbs and fog beset upon his mind gave clues to last night.

A walk with Miss Serebryakov. That noisy pub. Then…

Gabriel shot up, earning protest from sore joints and Peggie who commissioned his shoulder as a pillow, and remembering everything that happened last night. He…killed a man.

"Dear God." Gabriel's voice could only sustain a low croaking.

Gabriel pushed through the advice of his body and rolled out of the bed. Predictably landing on the floor with a painful thud. Further persistence got Gabriel onto his feet, falling once but stumbling forward.

He had to find it. His bible. It was somewhere around here. It had to be.

The book that saved mankind would cure him of this. There must be a shred of wisdom that covered this. Sin was ingrained in human nature, but Gabriel knew he had to do better.

He was a prince, he had to be better than this. There must be something that could make this right in the eyes of God. All other forces were secondary to His.

07/11/1924 / Bucharest, Kingdom of Dacia / Palace of Dacia, Private Dressing Room / 11:03

Tanya stood up from another practice bow, hoping this monotonous lesson would be forced to end by whoever was knocking on the door. Fortunately, it was Visha, bidding entry into the room from the open doorway.

"How may we help you, ma'am?" Gabriel's maid answered before her. Wrenching control away from the major turned student. "I'm here for Major Degurechaff."

Tanya knew she was hard on her adjutant, but it was still safe to trust her. Visha upheld her end of the mission last night, still up on time to brew her coffee. What a night it must have been if she was still tired from it.

"Is everything alright ma'am?"

"That it is Serebryakov. I'm just having a conversation with one of Prince Gabriel's servants." It was a truthful statement, if intentionally vague. Not a condition the bored-looking adult desired to uphold.

"I am a servant to the House of Stuart, not simply the prince alone. My Domina has summoned the Major for a meeting."

Perhaps a less subtle hint than the term "servant" was in order if she tried to overtly overlord her again. After correcting Tanya's intentional error Canvel pulled up her dress to curtsy for Visha, now fully into the room at Tanya's motion.

"Your Domina?"

Visha reacted, in the same manner, Tanya herself had when the maid told her. A wild smile with uncontainable surprise. Tanya differed only in the internal joy brought that such a prominent person wanted to speak with her. It was the next step of many towards her rear position - with royal prestige no less.

"Before I can take her there, however, I must instruct her on proper procedure."

"You are one for rules Major." Visha offset Canvel's serious nature with her naturally cheerful voice.

"I have no problem in learning or admitting that I do not know everything. Miss Canvel was not satisfied with my reassurance to our self-taught lessons" Tanya shifted attention exclusively to the girl she found more likeable. Leaving Canvel to wait on her for a moment longer. "It's also giving me ideas on how I should have you treat me as my adjutant."

Visha saw the humour in the threat and played along. "I'm not sure I can curtsy without a skirt Major."

The maid watched the Imperials laugh with her expressionless face. Observing in silence as Visha handed down a telegram transcript. "We received our transfer orders ma'am. Weiss has already organized the men to pack up."

The adjacent kept silent on possibly confidential matters; Tanya made a note to applaud that practice. A bit odd in the grand scale as some Albion maid likely had no influence or ability to act on secret information, but loose lips did sink ships.

Tanya was continuously pleased by her subordinates. Reading off their departure time, which airport and runway they were to go to and their next destination. Norden; back where this all started. Tanya already deduced this; surprise instead turned to disappointment. The north at the onset of winter sounded horrid. She was missing Dacia and it's sunny autumn weather already.

"If we're lucky we might see the Commonwealth off, assuming they won't tag along." The joke flew over the head of the maid.

"The Invicta Alliance forces have been given the Flemish border along the Rhine. I expect His Highness will be stationed there."

Tanya sighed, handing the telegram back to Visha. It was not worth the clarification. "Yes, of course."

"If that is all ma'am." Visha attempted to leave. Not making a full step before Canvel called out.

"Hold it." The maid maintained the prim professional appeal while directing orders better than an Imperial instructor. Leaving no room for dissent or counterarguments. "Please form a line with the Major. It is best I teach you too in case you happen to meet the queen."

07/11/1924 / Constanța, Kingdom of Dacia / Constanța Town Hall, Front Enterence / 12:20

The car ride felt longer than it must have been, Tanya concluded that to be her anticipation for the meeting. The bored maid finished her lesson then hurried both into a car and slid into the passenger seat. Their driver was another female maid dressed in black and white, then informing them the queen was to meet Tanya in a city along the Black Sea coast. Tanya knew it must have been arranged for the journey, more effort from the House of Stuart to accommodate her.

During the ride, Visha found use in being the soundboard for her superior, although she seemed committed to being helpful despite Tanya's doubt that she truly understood what was said. Regardless of Visha's qualities, she wanted to have as much practice as possible for the critical meeting.

Despite the artificial length, Tanya felt for the ride, it was over before she was mentally prepared. The car stopped outside of what Canvel informed to be the town hall, repurposed from the local government to the foreign government and its army. Canvel guided the Imperials out and into the building in a rushed manner. Meeting another maid inside to then abandon them for another unnamed task once they were inside,

"Forgive me, I am being summoned. Please see yourself the rest of the way." Canvel bowed, relayed instructions to the destination on the second floor then scurried away with her fellow servant.
"Not the best welcome we've received is it Serebryakov." Her adjutant echoed her sentiment. The pair set out to find the room drawn up for them, a short trip inevitably leading to a noisy room. An argument of some kind kept private from the hallway by the grace of a closed door.

The small bickering grew in veracity as they approached the door. On the other side was one vaguely familiar voice locked in combat with a stranger to Tanya. This was a less than ideal predicament, on the outside this was their destination, social convention dictated them not to intrude. Visha bent down and loudly whispered. "What should we do Major?"

Unfortunately, she was wondering the same. Muffled sentences could now be deduced to be in Albion.

"That's rich James - - - ever the egotist." It was a woman's voice, young, energetic and currently sarcastic. Visha leaned back down to confirm her translation.

"Your Albion is getting better Lieutenant." The brunette smiled, "Thank you, ma'am."

The maid explained they were to be summoned to meet the queen, simultaneously she told them to find and go into this exact room. It was a safe assumption that the monarch was neither of the members of the argument. They concluded knocking would be the best solution and Visha stepped forward to do the action.

"I think your - - - pleasure craft. I know him more than anyone else in this - - -" The other muffled voice shouted back.

Apparently, whoever the "James" was, he had failed to hear the first or second attempts at knocking. Possibly because of a nervous Imperial not wanting to be too disruptive. The fourth attempt by Tanya herself finally elicited a response; perhaps because if she struck the wood any harder splinters would form.

The argument stopped and after a small shuffle, the handle moved on its own. The unknown woman towered over both herself and Visha without the use of high heels. Young in appearance that Tanya guessed to be in her late twenties. Dressed in the dark-blue suit expected of a naval officer tightly clung to this woman. The irregularity in the pristine uniform was the unusual black bob-cut hair with a strand that ran down the right side of her face and over the corresponding eye.

The woman reminded Tanya to Gyaru's of the Salaryman's world. The counterculture girls of Japan who thought bright hair, ugly makeup and dyed skin made them unique persons. In reality, it made them look desperate to stand out.

Her pretty face and black eyes lit up when they graced over Visha and onto herself.

"My my!" Her Albion tone changed as she crouched down to her height. "Who do we have here?"

In her years of living in this body, Tanya knew to expect candour reactions about her being "cute." But in uniform, respect or obedience could be expected. Not some cheerful squeaking she associated with the stereotype of feminine speech.

Off put by the new experience, Tanya still saluted her superior – or tried to. Her introduction cut into by her cheek being pinched, accented Germanic patronising her. "Did the Empire send you to give us a message?"

Tanya was stunned momentarily, shock and anger left idle from the audacity of the act. The situation was no longer unfamiliar, this was reminiscent of the attitude of that propaganda photographer from her Silver Wings photo shoots.

The saluting hand instinctively prepared to slap away the offending hand but froze in place when she recognised who the "James" was.

Gabriel's brother stood in uniform with his arms crossed, still visibly annoyed from the argument. That was what caused the woman's face to click for Tanya. It was one of the Albion princesses pinching her cheek. A lesser creature might be honoured. The daggers sent from her eyes into the royal did not discourage her aggressive coddling.

"I didn't know they made uniforms this size." Her Caledonia accent was more noticeable compared to the other Albions experienced thus far.

"They are specially made Your Highness. Please let go of my face." Tanya tried to remain as professional as she could.

The hand withdrew but the crouching and tone remained. Whatever Visha's condition she was silent, although Tanya could not exactly blame her for that. Neither did she want to further act like a child by hiding behind Visha's leg to get away from the royal. Protection from the tactics of a touchy aunt was not taught in the war college while respect for royalty was.

"My my." The princess was still in awe of her apparent cuteness. Curse you Being X. "A feisty little one you are."

Tanya stepped back to avoid the pinching hands, her adjutant in sync with the movement.

"Rachel." Prince James spoke from within the sitting room in a state of calm. His sister turned to look from the child plundering posture. "Rachel, that's the Empire's best mage here to see Mother."

Princess Rachel reacted immediately. Still crouched with a loving look that was betrayed by a red face. Eyes closed as she returned to a standing position and retreated into the room, allowing for the quiet entry of Tanya and her adjutant. Continuing to smile with sealed eyelids backed into the corner just by the door. The woman touched at her length of hair and spoke in the manner expected of an adult her actual age.

"My apologies Miss, I assumed you were something else."

Regardless of rough introductions, normality was expecting to settle in, enticed by the dual prince and general. "Please forgive my younger sister Major Degurechaff. Our brother tends to forgo your appearance when recounting your accomplishments."

It was a bold face compliment, but not one she disliked hearing. As long as she appeared to accept it mind not fall under any accompanying tricks it would be fine.

"I only do my duty, Your Highness."

James leaned against the back of an armchair, his fingers curling the fabric as he spoke. "Duty is all well and good but it's the enthusiasm for it that's important, try not to lose sight of it."

Tanya nodded at the advice internally wondering how to continue this change to impress more members of the Commonwealth's royal family. Having one prince was enough to boost a career, being in favour of three heirs and the queen was overkill.

"I apologise for interrupting the previous discussion with my arrival." An offer of clemency could be a fine start.

Rachel still stood against the corner, eyes sealed and face slowly becoming of a normal complexion. "It's fine Dear, we were just having a friendly disagreement over a family matter."

"Yes." James' voice rang out again, finding an amused tone to put on. "It regards our sister." Tanya found it slightly odd how their brother was just a handful of kilometres away, yet his name only touched the lips once. Nevertheless, she allowed James to try and reel her into his side of the disagreement.

"This would be Princess Leah correct?"

"Aye." James smirked. "Leah. She's still doing her doctorate in Aquilonia. Probably got a book in her hand or up her-"

Rachel cleared her throat, still smiling sweetly against the wall. James corrected his judgment. This was the father of the boy in the photo Visha told her about. He must have forgotten to maintain a child-friendly persona around her – meaning she was some form of an adult to him, a pleasing development.

"Well, her head in a book."

Rachel added to her brother's statement from the corner of the room, still not brave enough to peek. "I was making the observation Mother favours the bookworm among her children and is already taking a roll in government - at an earlier age than James mind you."

The prince scoffed at the fact proposed, looking away briefly before focusing his attention on his sister.

Tanya was wondering if staying outside the room would have been more pleasurable than being a proxy to an argument.

"I have spent the last three years on campaign and dealing with the politics across Afrika and Anatolia. All the while she gets to cosy up to the rejects of parliament. It's playing pretend, not governing."

"That doesn't mean Mother won't appoint her as the designated heir before you or me. She is the favourite child after all." Rachel's smile was almost one of cunning, though still producing sweet nectar. Nothing on par with the older James.

"You can take that idea and-"

"Pardon my interjection." Tanya played a calculated risk and interrupted the royal. "This nature of conversation is not one to be had in front of persons such as myself and my Adjutant."

James seemed to relent, postponing his reactionary stance and straightening back up. Speaking while patting on the tunic of his uniform.

"My apologies Major. It's disrespectful to force you to listen to our petty squabbling." He tapped one of his buttons, collecting his thoughts before speaking this time. "I have a son back in Aquilonia so there is no excuse for my behaviour. Seeing as you yourself are..."

He trailed off unnaturally, gesturing his hand at her person to indicate what he could not say. The sentiment was obvious, making her feel slightly defeated. Just when she thought to be valued and judged for merit rather than this body. It was petty and arguably childish but there was no reason not to have fun with it.

"Because I am a woman?" The prince exhaled through his nose, stiffening any laughter but otherwise amused. Tanya had her difficulties subduing laughter and settled with a knowing smirk. The same strategy was assumedly taken in by Rachel in the corner. James took the stage to respond with a resounding defeat.

"Sure." Smirking readily amused at her comment.

Now that they were warmed to her she could naturally pursue information gathering. "I am honoured otherwise to be greeted by two of the Commonwealth's finest once again." The chipper attitude of James revealed what she already knew. This was a coincidence and not planned. Not to say she would dive at each opportunity for a supporter. It would be nice to have a general over a lieutenant in her back pocket.

"I am attending to business, personal business." Rachel had maintained her positive and closed eyes. Yet looking over to her Tanya swore she was still being watched but the royal with closed eyes. "Politics do not stop simply because we are at war."

"Only we are not at war." James corrected his sister.

"Of course, how silly of me." Rachel fell in line quickly. Strangling the truth was a half convincing lie.

"James tells me it was over the Jacobite party in parliament. My brother in all his wisdom is fretting over a hypothetical split in the Unionist and Jacobite parties that make up most of the coalition government back in Aquilonia. If the parliament breaks up it could give power to Laurier's liberals who oppose further conscription. We cannot have that can we?"

Rachel giggled at the end, amused over something seemingly so important but not enough to keep from laughing. The matter was dropped afterwards as Rachel explained her presence in the building further.

"I am passing through on my way to the North Sea. The emperor wants to observe some of our cruisers and destroyers in person. I wanted to see Her Majesty before she is sucked into the political scene." Rachel placed a hand against her cheek, a purposeful and successful act to look cuter. Her closed right eye hiding behind her hair and posing seemed to get a stunning reaction from Visha.

How amusing it was what her subordinate would fall for. The experience of the Salaryman renders her partially immune to these forms of manipulation.

Tanya thought how it must have been nice to be a sailor. Neither Empire, Entente nor Republic we're heavily engaged on the sea. It was often a legitimate strategy to merely threaten a show of force to make the other side back down. Statistically, it might have been the safest branch of the military during the war. If only the Empire had a developed marine mage division like the Commonwealth and Unitary. She would never want to tangle with such reported experts but could get used to their spans of inactivity.

The princess allowed a finishing thought to antagonise her eldest sibling. "I forgot I'd have to put up with James' ego."

Tanya braced herself to be caught in another round of regal in-fighting. Then a pair of double doors opened to a much grander room and an escape from bearing witness to the Stuarts squabbles. Startling to a mind tested by warfare, a reoccurring mild habit even if the emerging creature was a harmless maid.

"Highnesses." It was that bored-looking maid that had escorted them here. "If I may interrupt a heedless argument, Her Majesty is ready to see Major Degurechaff."

The professional had remarkable timing, that or had they had been subject to surveillance. But that would mean a housekeeper had any value with such information outside of meaningless gossip.

Rachel did find the courage to look down at the owner of the cheeks she assaulted. The black eyes were kinder and softer, remorseful for picking a target she should not belittle. She gave a small bow and apologised for her earlier action, something Tanya did not quarrel about letting slide. It would be woefully impractical and counterproductive to wage proverbial war over a minor incident against someone who had your best interests in mind. It could always be a favour owed to her; to be called upon at her desired convenience.

So long as Visha kept her mouth shut the incident could be forgotten. "Well, I must be off then. James, will you see me out?"

He accepted the offer, no longer encouraged by anger but what surmounted to familial love in the regal setting. The prince gave farewell as Canvel ushered Tanya and Visha into the next, much larger and grander room.

It was devoid of life apart from the female trio, the items of note being two sofa and souvenir armchairs in the centre of a carpet on the hardwood floor. Around the furniture was empty space or ornamental tables, including a coffee table separating the couches. An example of tasteful excellence to match the value and style of the room. Additionally, another mortal being outdid Being X's hotel.

Visha leaned forward to loudly whisper to her. "They all have the same eyes, ma'am."

"What's that?" Tanya plundered the meaning and purpose to Visha whispering for the sake of a maid.

"The Princes and Princess, they all have the same eyes." Tanya had not noticed and neither did she care to. If Visha was impressed with genetics and DNA then it was her prerogative. It was imperative she never relayed that trivial detail than how princess Rachel acted.

"Please wait here, Major." The maid turned to her adjutant, ignorant or indifferent to their conversation. "You can follow me; we can find a use for you."

"I need Serebryakov back in one piece before you get any ideas. Visha." The brunette perked up at her name. "Don't let anyone tell an Imperial Lieutenant what to do. Understood?"

Visha saluted for confirmation and let herself be led through one of the numerous doors. The girl was smart when she needed to be, Tanya was confident she would not spill any 203rd secrets over biscuits and milky tea.

Now she just had to do the same.

It was a matter of waiting for her Albion queen to appear. Just a woman that ruled the Empire's ally. One who nominally lead a conglomeration alliance consisting of half the world. Someone luckily presented as competent enough for the position.

This would be a first for Tanya and the Salaryman. No prince, general, CEO or manager could compare to a superior of this magnitude.

For this, every little complaint against Gabriel was forgiven, this was the ultimate compensation of his misdeeds. She was immensely more valuable somewhere in the rear. Now she just had to prove such to the woman who could easily act on that information.

Tanya leaned against one of the armchairs, wishing again she could have been taller when reminded of her lacklustre stature.

She was admittedly nervous, having the same eating ball of stress that was present when she participated in an interview or a presentation. It only meant she wanted the results of this meeting and would do well to prepare for it. Engaging in Jin Shin Jyutsu: a practice she learned from Japan to rhythmically hold a finger for two breaths, each finger corresponding to an emotion and organ. Her thumb was the one being gripped today, lest the sign of her wanting this became overwhelming.

It might have made her look more childlike to any observer. Appearing to be a child playing with herself instead of a competent commander. At least she was alone and did not need to rely on her limitations for excuses.

The sound of a door opening stopped the practice. Sending Tanya back to standing upright and removing any calm essence she granted herself.

Tanya stood at attention and faced the moving door. It was a custom to stand for ruling monarchs, somewhat trivial but it was tradition, a rule. It would be poor form to discard it on her intuition of what she assumed to be correct.

The woman that held the lofty position of world leader looked the part. Tall without the qualification of being a woman, equal to most men with assumed raised heel shoes hidden beneath the simple red and white dress. A dress she would hate to wear but an outfit not without beauty; complimenting the blond hair braided down her back, the most detail given to the Frankish style braid headband intertwined with a red ribbon. The overwhelming colour pallet tricking the blue eyes to a new colour. Lost in photography but Tanya knew she was almost able to see red beads cast down upon her. It was a relief that the queen felt no need to aggrandise herself with wealthy flashy clothing. It meant there was no superficial compensation to assert power.

The only metal outside of tasteful jewellery on her neck and ears was that purple pin she saw on Gabriel before. Worn proudly for the House of Stuart.

Superiors often demanded subjugation, this one - she looked to earn respect by the posture of her head alone.

"Good afternoon Major Degurechaff." Her Majesty went from a statue to possessing a warm expression. It was moderately surprising, after everything she had seen Tanya still expected something other than a pleasant greeting.

"Good afternoon Your Majesty." Tanya bowed as the maid taught - again thankful for her skirt-free uniform once again.

The queen gestured out, waving away the action. "There is no need for such formalities Major. We are in private."

This meeting was off to a great start. The manager had lowered herself and raised the status of the humbled employee. A continuous trend if competence could be assessed; to be consecutively rewarded.

"I understand." Tanya already did the action and offered a salute on top of it. "Forgive me. It is the protocol expected of me. I was briefed by one of your maids this morning on how to bow."

The queen chuckled, a hand touching her lips, a habit that made her appear endearing rather than merely mimicking it. "I understand wholeheartedly Major. I hope my staff was not too demanding or harsh a teacher." Then accurately guessing it to be Canvel.

"My adjutant describes her as "bored and scary." A covert way to imply Tanya's status earned her an assistant. Simultaneously used as an ice breaker scapegoat if the remark offended.

"I am aware she can have that effect on others. If you permit it. I would have your adjutant fitted to one of my girl's dresses." Styled with speech to be an obvious joke. Replied to in the same manner.

"I might take you up on that offer when we're more situated. But I'm not too eager to see her dressed up like a maid." Tanya moved away from the chair, hoping they could move past the introduction. "But I doubt you summoned me to discuss a new Imperial dress code."

"Business centred. I respect that." The queen smiled, motioned to the furniture Tanya already focused on. Directing for Tanya to make herself comfortable. A hard feat to accomplish when the stakes were so high.

"If you wish, we can formally start." Annabelle lowered herself to land on the couch closest to her. This meant Tanya had to sit across from her, else it might be a problem.

"I didn't intend to dictate the conversation ma'am." Tanya waited for the queen to sit before joining her - as the maid taught.

"I prefer to view it as putting you at ease." Annabelle pushed out the creases from her dress, running her hands down between her body and the cushion. Knowingly tilting her head. "Tanya darling, I know this must be, shall we say, frightening. I am aware of the effect I can have on people." Annabelle clasped her hands together. "But that does not mean I want you to be restrictive in my presence. Tell me what you are thinking, not what you think I want to hear."

Tanya straightened her posture as a precaution, silent to the use of the horrid word "darling.". One key factor of networking was appearance. Nearly as important as mental competence. Despite the efforts of Being X, she could have a modicum of both.

"Was there a particular topic you wished to discuss with me, ma'am?"

The queen smiled, chuckling a single note. "Are you always so willing to please Major?"

"I am simply attempting to fulfil the expectations of my profession." That was an adequate answer, an honest one too. Not to let an opportunity to remind the queen of her credentials go unheeded. "I hold the same standard for my battalion."

"How patriotic." Queen Annabelle hummed. Leaving a gap for Tanya to further her point.

"I am simply doing the duty expected of me, ma'am."

"And humble too." Tanya did not feel there was a need to deny that particular analytical point.

A different door opened, the sound coming from behind Tanya. Instinctively she looked to the source and found it to be yet another maid. The oldest one she had seen thus far.

"There is no need to fear Miss Sanders, my dear." Annabelle pulled her attention back. "She only bites when I tell her to."

The maid carried a tray onto the table separating the two couches. A teapot and serving saucers were then added to the setting. Besides the beverage was a plate of what appeared to be swiss rolls; why the Albion's believed they had to serve wretched tea alongside pastries was a mystery. Why not cut to the centre and just serve decent food?

The queen's cup was poured first after the tea's arrival. The maid recognised her after the monarch was properly served. Another example of the Germanic language spoken with an Albion accent.

"How do you take your tea Major."

Circling the drain was her usual answer, but not the one Tanya had today. "I'm afraid I've always been a coffee person. So, I would not know."

The servant seemed to be more insulted at the statement. The Salaryman's prejudices of the British and their tea seemed to be a continuous truth.

"Her Majesty always finds herself in such strange company." Sanders covertly said in Albion to her employer. A remark Tanya would not tolerate or laugh off if it was one of her lieutenants.

"Miss Sanders finds your tastes peculiar Tanya darling." Tanya found it noticeable that there appeared to be no reaction to the covert insult. If only she could openly question the snubbing of respect towards the worlds most powerful woman.

"I will have whatever you recommend ma'am."

"You are a guest, my dear. I have no quarrel about giving what you prefer. Miss Sanders." Her kind attitude snapped to the maid. "Can you brew the Major a pot of coffee?"

The maid confirmed the request, curtsied, and removed herself from the room. No further opportunity for Tanya to protest, there will conform to her desire if the queen allowed it. This could be better than initially predicted. She wanted to show she was appreciative of the treatment – if it was unnecessary. Her Majesty nullified her opportunity and immediately went about promoting her candy.

"Why don't you have a Swiss roll Tanya darling?

It would be a poor forum to reject such a kind offer for no apparent reason. She felt it should be counted as lucky due to the pleasant look of the pastry.

Tanya picked up one of the little Swiss roll with her fingers. It was approximately the size of a rifle bullet and casing, however, thicker with both ends flattened to create a cylinder. For all the talk, the item looked to be a simple brown concoction dipped in a thin layer of chocolate.

Innocent looking on the outside, not revealing its true nature until it was fully experienced.

Inside was where the treat became magnificent. Biting into it placed red cream into Tanya's mouth

The cake remained of a simple – yet enjoyable – taste, but when mixed with the ruby cream a new flavour. An exquisite and inexperienced flavour. It was a secret kept within in the form of a red swirl. Hidden, unknown and indescribable until it was experienced personally.

The opportunity of networking might be a close second to the queen's Swiss rolls. Tanya's expression was read easily and commented on by the chief.

"I'm pleased to see you like them Major. I knew you would have sweet tooth."

"I must give my praise to your abilities in the kitchen ma'am. These might be some of the best I've had." Although praiseworthy, Tanya wishes to remain formal regardless of the topic. Another detail that was picked up by Queen Annabelle.

"Always top button with you I see. You sound like my own Lieutenant. No wonder you two get along."

It took Tanya a moment to clue in the queen was referencing her son. She was cynically surprised Gabriel had the common sense of good taste but not rational thinking. Her Majesty had more to say on the matter and did so.

"I have always wanted to teach Gabriel how to make them. Something that doesn't come from a can. Perhaps when this war is over it would be time for that to happen."

"That might be wise. He has been upset with their recent combat casualties." Tanya took a mental note that it seemed to be an activity done with much smaller children, those younger than herself. The fact she was exempted from that learning session was a good sign.

"I have heard, it's sad news." Queen Annabelle sighed, appearing to think at the mention of her son in that context.

"You know, Tanya darling, we had a minor upheaval once we got the news. Dacia had no known air force, after all, you know this yourself."

Annabelle leaned closer while slowly detailing what was possibly highly classified information. "We suspect it was Federation planes. Retroactive studies and hypotheses allow us to be certain. We are not certain of their methods but the reports from the 27th all say the same thing."

Annabelle then straightened her demeanour to the respectable image of a monarch; forcibly ending the revelation of state secrets. Possessing a new spring in her voice as she shifted the topic.

"I'm sure that's not too surprising, a clever girl such as yourself must have her suspicions."

The queen was correct on a technicality. Tanya had wagered internally the eastern communists to be the phantoms that brought down the Albions. They were the most likely of the two options, the other being impossible to justify strike by the Balkan mass of Hiterla. The red-tinted had ideological reasons, if not practical ones of testing their neighbour's capabilities.

The issue was a redundant matter for her, however. The Empire and Federation have signed a non-aggression pact at the outbreak of the war. They would not risk war under such conditions, no power would violate the most mutually beneficial of rules. There-in it was not her problem to fret over those to the east.

"I thank you for the trust you invested in me." It was best to feint humility and skip over the queen's "clever" adjective assigned to her.

"Think nothing of it Tanya darling." Annabelle straightened back up, sipping from her teacup. "After all, what is a favour between friends?"

On behalf of that sudden friendship. Tanya was begrudgingly required to abort all privacy and fulfil the queen's request of "telling everything about yourself."

Tanya had finished relaying her life story as requested when the black and white dress returned with another tray. Now Tanya could watch the monarch grin and awe over her latent poverty with the aroma of coffee beans wafting into her nostrils. Given her cup along with the queen who started her second cup of sugary tea.

"It is remarkable Tanya ..."

The queen thanked and dismissed the maid. Leaving it to be just the two, possibly as a result of Annabelle taking the lead on the conversation.

"When my Gabriel was your age, the difference was night and day."

"I cannot help but be reminded of my time in the army. Not that I intend to diminish your accomplishments, my dear."

"I did not interpret it that way, ma'am." Tanya drank from her coffee. A rich cup, but too creamy while served black. Visha's blend was still remarkably better than the apparent best from the Commonwealth's Caribbean holdings.

"I was unaware you served if you would forgive my ignorance. Your son never mentioned such in our letters and I often lack time to study matters outside of the Empire." It was a polite way of formatting the newly acquired knowledge, conveniently laying most of any blame on someone else. A moot point as the queen showed the modesty that befits her image.

"I served in the cavalry in the Akitsan war. Secondary education as a mechanic." Annabelle seemed to become distant at the new scene. Remaining overtly polite and posh while old memories were brought into the present. A look Tanya had seen frequently before on the Rhine. If not one afflicted by it to her knowledge.

"My younger sisters went into the navy; I think that's where my Rachel gets her love of the sea. I was the only one who stayed on land for all those years." The queen's voice sunk slightly, stained at recalling unfavourable memories but not lost in the past like many veterans. "There I stayed, through highs and lows, freezing winters and boiling summers. We would charge lines of infantry in the most horrid of conditions, never mind the cannon raining upon us." She appeared to be speaking more to herself than her guest for a moment. The mind attempting to rid itself of pesky doubt and possibly self-loathing.

"I did my best for our realm; I only wish the Commonwealth had something to show for those nine years of war." She perked back up, over the hill and lingering regrets. It would be hard to manufacture such emotions, and Her Majesty appeared incapable of such manipulation.

"I did meet my late husband in 1890 however, there is always some virtue in tragedy. I do not intend to gloat, but I became quite talented with my swordsmanship. I and my late George used to fence together. It was in a soldier's competition in Hong Kong where we first met. He always claimed he intentionally lost so he could have a rematch."

The queen remained composed but did soften at her deceased lover. The resolve of one in power is unwavering.

"I have an engagement with the Dacian king later today. My son ensured the Commonwealth and Hellas would have investment and tributary rights, I'm sure you are aware. But back to the matter, I am told he partakes in the sport as a pastime. If you are interested I would not mind the company."

"I'm afraid I have transfer orders from the General Staff ma'am."

The queen smiled. "Another time perhaps."

Tanya always had to put her profession first, it was that adherence that seemed to impress Her Majesty than blindly taking the offer. Although, it could be the military profession that appealed to her as an exception to having each whim followed. It was refreshing to see another woman who valued the sanctity of established rules.

This monarch continued to impress and surprise Tanya.

"When the situation for the Empire has stabilised, I would be pleased to teach you." Annabelle poses on the sofa; one hand out with an imaginary sabre and the other to the side for balance. Without the weapon, it appeared to be a position natural to her figure.

"It is a unique experience to hold a sword in the heat of battle. It can be more impactful than any firearm." Annabelle put a hand to her lips, laughing softly again. "It is good exercise too."

"I think my current exercise regime is filled. If I commit to more I might shrink instead of growing." Tanya played off the queen's joke. "It is regretful that the Empire has unfortunately discontinued the use of swords in combat."

"But can one command better without a sword? It is a sophisticated weapon as much as a tool of power. One can hardly govern for long without such a tool in hand."

That might be true, but Tanya knew it would take more than kind words and magical barricades for her to charge at the enemy with only an oversized knife.

"I would be delighted to learn fencing from you, ma'am." It was a foul idea to deny a monarch, especially when they were being remarkably reasonable. "When the time is right."

Preferably during the next offensive or when the queen elevated her to a desk job, and they could have employee-manager meetings more often. The more private time she could get with Annabelle the better.

"I can provide travel back to your camp. It is the least I can do after I dragged you all the way to the coast. A little tip for politics Tanya darling,"

Annabelle leaned closer for the apparent secret. Not one worthy of the precaution if it was necessary.

"Being early is a method of controlling the arrangement."

"I see, do you reserve such tactics for all meetings or just for today?" Annabelle snickered, winking for her answer to the question. Maybe it was cutting edge in the emerging modern world, or common sense spelt out to a natural conclusion. It was unlikely the queen would give up her best secrets for free, meaning this was a small gift to be treasured.

"I accept your offer of a ride back to the capital. Would it be at all possible to meet up with Lieutenant Stuart?"

Tanya refilled her coffee cup from the pot; wondering if there was hidden sweetener mixed into the brew. Any opportunity for her to provoke Gabriel into singing her praise to the queen had to be exploited. It was worth asking regardless of the outcome. Her Majesty gave a smile, possibly pleased with a conclusion or evaluation she did not share. Elegant in taking another drink from her teacup.

"I see you have grown fond of my youngest son." A true sentiment, if horrendously simplified. "But I'm afraid the time cannot be made. Gabriel must have a busy schedule rearranging the Wing for redeployment. He would not want his mother lurking around."

Some of the irony appeared to be lost on the queen. The other possibility being the correct assumption that Tanya had managed her time accordingly. If Her Majesty already believed herself to be enamoured with her kin, then it was worth another, more personal, question.

"Don't you miss him?" It might be naked bribery, but she should get away with it at her age. It was unfortunate she had to fall back to that excuse, but the outcome warranted it.

"I dread being apart from any of my children. But I know it comes with time and circumstance. I will have to live without. You will understand when you get married and have your children Tanya darling."

Tanya decided to ignore that particular comment along with the pet name. It was a thought too complex and confusing, something to torment herself with another day. Luckily, Annabelle continued her justification to allow Tanya a distraction from her potential offspring."

"Besides, I saw Gabriel at the Vatican, briefly." Annabelle made another self-indulgent smile. "He seemed quite happy. All dressed up as an adult for his princess, a handsome Lieutenant for a pretty girl. He used to have a stutter when he was young you know. Only started to grow out of it around your age, it was a nervous tick I believe. But I think it goes to show how well he has done these past few years."

Annabelle excused herself, returning to the topic under the false pretence it would insult her guest.

"I would prefer for him to turn twenty before they marry; maximises publicity and bargaining power you see. It is not enough to posses an opportunity; it has to be wielded accordingly to capitalize on its full potential."

A fascinating analysis. It appears the Commonwealth had a leader that saw the logical philosophy of maximizing human resources. At times Tanya had wondered if it was just herself and select members of the General Staff that saw this reality. Now it was crucial to convincing Annabelle that she was an invaluable investment.

"I understand wholeheartedly. I apologise for bringing the Lieutenant up."

"It is alright Tanya darling. I would not want to miss the chance to keep the Argent all to myself."

There was that name again, her callsign and that overly girly pet name.

"Who else can claim they had the privilege to pick your brain; not many I assume."

The truth had already been made by the queen, to correct it was fruitless. If her Majesty saw her as a specialist breed then it would play to her benefit. After all, it was her objective to impress her as much as possible.

"Then pick away, I'll be glad to tell you whatever I can."

Thus, starting a long trend of answering minute and unimportant questions for Annabelle while enjoying the red-tinted Swiss rolls. Mundane until the queen asked something Tanya could finally struggle with.

"What is your opinion on the direction of the Empire and Commonwealth?" Tanya felt her throat become dry, coffee failing to contain the ailment from spreading. She had already told Regina that the closer the Empire got to the Commonwealth, the further the rest of the world would be to them. Not an easy sentiment to convey to the woman who led that controversial sect of politics.

But that issue was certainly on the queen's mind, this meeting proved the monarch was intelligent enough to figure that out. If Tanya feigned ignorance it would make her look the fool.

Tanya readjusted her posture once more, finishing her cup of coffee to mull over an adequate answer.

"I think stating it is a delicate relationship is a safe assumption." Starting with common information was usually a safe play. It eased up tensions while introducing the thesis. The queen seemed appealed to by the quip while drinking her tea, letting Tanya continue her impromptu presentation.

"The Empire lacks resources the Commonwealth has agreed to supply for the foreseeable future at fair prices. I can only judge as a novice without critical information, but this system should suffice."

"Would you mind elaborating Tanya darling?"

She would, but that would require saying no to a queen. A literal death sentence in the past and political one in this age; one of the same from Tanya's perspective.

Tanya could only pity the punishment that a sarcastic maid would earn behind a closed door. The objective in the present was not to share in her fate.

"Please correct my history if I prove to be inaccurate. It has been quite some time since I read one of my nun's history textbooks."

If she stuck closely to a historical narrative then it could limit any backlash.

"The Commonwealth founded the Invicta Pact,"

"Invicta Alliance, my darling." Annabelle readily corrected the nonissue. "It is a standing treaty of indefinite friendship between mutual countries of shared ideals; hence it is an alliance. To say it is some pact or agreement takes away the grandeur of its meaning."

The queen finished her no doubt rehearsed segment. An ally was only a definition of agreement, not a moral indicator of right or wrong. The wiser move was to apologise for the linguistic error.

"My apologies ma'am. The alliance was founded after the Macartney Embassy in the late eighteenth century."

The queen nodded, impressed at the simple feat of recalling an opening paragraph to a book. "Yes, 1793 to be exact. The following year the Commonwealth expanded the abolition movement intro Daqin."

"While good for human rights, the Qing entered exclusively into mercantilist trade with the Commonwealth. Leading to the powers of Europa to force Akitsushima Dominion to act as a middleman and smuggler for Far East trade. The Empire's predecessor started an ever-evolving…relationship before the turn of the century."

The carefully chosen words had the desired effect, that being Annabelle not becoming furious. The reaction being of elegant silence, unopposed to history.

"Our relations to the Akitsushiman have existed for nearly as long as the Invicta Alliance. If I remember correctly, the emperor's father aided them in the war through material shipments and loans; a deed they are now returning. Now that they hold nearly all of the Far East there is a market incentive to work with them, regardless of their archaic views on race. If they can fully pacify their territories, they could have a production base to outpace the Empire or the Unified States."

Now the delicate part. Tanya never smoked but predicted this was such an occasion to take a puff. "Neither of those nations has positive relations with the Commonwealth. I hate to say it, but it is an economic risk to get too close or reliant on your faction."

There was no visible reaction from the queen, which was more concerning. If there was a slight clue in falsified or downplayed emotions there would be something to take away. The response time did not offer insight to the mind of Annabelle, direct while professional.

"You take a mature stance on the matter, Major. No blind nationalism or fanaticism, nor overtly appealing to my interests. I know it must be frightening."

The queen smiled, her hands touching the area over her heart. Sincerity is portrayed despite it involving her struggles.

"You have my respect Major Degurechaff. The Empire is lucky to have such a talented and wise young officer, and my son such a good friend."

Tanya smiled openly, unable and unwilling to hide the grin wrapping around her face. This was perfect, everything she ever wanted could be achieved from the seeds planted on this day. She bowed her head in respect to the praise. There were many outcomes possible from this summons. That she navigated the linguistic sea was a testament to her abilities. She knew her accomplishments were not supernatural, but raw persistence and refinement.

Being X Himself could not ruin this moment. The world could freeze and she would remain happy, able to gloat to Him in what amounted to "in-person" that she was succeeding without worshipping Him.

A new door slammed open, echoing through the room with accompanying boots tapping across the hardwood floor. Behind the queen's back this time, meaning Tanya had the first view of Being X calling her bluff.

Entering the room with a spring in her step was her plucky adjutant; coming to embarrass her once again. Tanya's face dropped, to be disappointed or infuriated first? Would it be better to stop cursing the deity or finally implement that leach, collar and muzzle often thought about?

"Major, there is a telegram from the-" Visha was waving the item in the air, her arm and mood dropping when the queen turned her head to see the loud intruder. Cheers turned into stutters and muttering babble, growing more frantic as Annabelle rose to her feet and approached.

It was useless, the queen expressionless from the minimal angle Tanya had. A regal hand motioning for Visha to act; to perform something unsaid. Visha shared the uncertainty of her superior. Looking at the queen and her commander for advice until realised the missing action. Breaking her stupor and curtsying for the queen; Tanya's palm hitting her face transforming Visha's action into a bow.

"Your Majesty, m-my apologise for the intrusion." The bowed head lined with brown hair remained bent as she explained herself. "One of the maids said it was a just Major von Degurechaff in here. I meant no disrespect."

The moment where scornful criticism was expected and deserved went vacant. Her Majesty offered forgiveness, beckoning Visha to rise from her bow after a sufficient amount of time passed. Meaning Tanya had to provide it later, respectfully keeping jurisdiction limited to respective countries. Another point of respect was delivered onto her by the queen.

"Red hair, approximately my height, in her late thirties?"

The queen asked and Visha answered with a timid nod. "That would be Miss Sanders, figures. Do not fret about it, Miss?"

The final piece missing from the introduction. Modelled with a salute and louder and necessary voice. "Second Lieutenant Viktoriya Ivanovna Serebryakov. 203rd Imperial mage battalion."

Tanya sighed, herself excessively loud for the present company. The queen glaring back startled her into silence. It had seemed in her hubris she forgot the queen was not to be exclusively kind all the time.

"What is the telegram Lieutenant?" Tanya kept to her professional aura lest she makes another mistake.

"Our redeployment flight has been moved forward. It would be wise to leave soon." The timid attitude of Visha lingered when she redirected her attention back to the queen. "If that is permissible Y-your Highness. Majesty!"

Annabelle turned back to Tanya, behind her Visha still shaking in her boots. Back to smiling as if she had not stared her down moments ago.

"It is, calm yourself Viktoriya, please. You're embarrassing me."

She startled giggling at the end of the sentence, working to quell the fear on Visha's face. Then put the focus back to Tanya.

"Tanya darling," Why did she have to say that pet name in front of Visha? "We shall continue our discussion in the car." A demand less disguised this time.

How could the queen control others so effortlessly but not her staff?

06/11/1924 / 2KM East of Bucharest, Kingdom of Dacia / Military Airfield / 15:40

Visha straightened her back as she returned to her feet, licking the envelope closed and sealing the letter inside.

The last time she wrote to her family it took a month to get home to Kiel. Her mother's voice could be heard in the next letter screaming that her only daughter was dead. Swiftly followed by the love, praise and pleading to come back home safe. This next letter was hopefully compensation for that, stating that she was safe and why she was too busy to write. She would send it once they landed, but despite being closer to her home in the north there was lingering doubt that it would take multiple weeks to travel a distance she could fly in an afternoon.

A benefit to being the Majors Adjutant was only one superior overseeing her letters. In practice, Degurachaff's trust meant she had the privilege of censoring her letter.

She wrote most of it while the Major was meeting with the Queen, being served tea and biscuits by several maids that causally picked her mind. Herself feeling like royalty in the process. The girls were curious about her person, the war at large or hypothetical celebrations the previous day. The final topic a point of contention survived by copious lies that seemed to work.

It felt uncomfortable to her that it felt natural to lie about this topic. What would her father think of her if he were to find out?

Visha planned to finish the letter in the car ride back to the airfield. That plan dashed with the queen sitting across in the car talking with Degurechaff. That was when the queen informed her of the classified nature of the meeting. No one in the battalion or whoever the letter was addressed to was to know. Not even her soldiers or Lieutenant.

Visha resigned to finish the letter on the tarmac with the 203rd and some 27th members conversing to farewells. Now was the question of how to fulfil her remaining time before they were ordered to file into the cargo plane sitting idle while its passengers socialised.

Visha started walking around the loose crowd after stowing the letter away in her tunic. The other officers she befriended were enjoying the last minutes of their off time. Grantz was seen with the Aquilonian, sporting clean hair and a mild red tint to his cheeks. Visha's absent-minded feet moved on. It was nice to see they were getting along despite the numerous factors against them, age, different nationalities, accomplices to murder. But not interested in prematurely involving herself with her friend's game of love. She knew nothing practical of the subject, but even she knew it was idiotic to add a third member into a game intended for two.

Visha moved on, wandering out of what could be defined as the crowd and into the open concrete before a hanger. In that space, an aeroplane in a dissembled state and repair crew whittled down to one man, favouring a book over socialising.

Now Visha knew where she was going. Major Degurechaff had followed Hanover inside the building for one final talk when Visha started on her letter. The rest of the mages and pilots turned mechanics dotted around talking, resulting in Prince Gabriel being left alone to read with his back against the frame of the plane. Dressed down to suspenders and an undershirt with rolled-up sleeves. Huddled inward to read his book and block out the external threat of conversation. No clues in his appearance or demeanour hinting that he was enthralled in murder a day ago.

Visha's feet were already carrying her towards the lonesome prince. Faced with the desire to speak with him before she had any idea what she wanted to say. The topic was known but how to express it coherently was a mystery. Could she even do it? Simply walk up to a member of royalty and strike up a conversation in the manner as if she were an equal. She was not even of his kingdom.

Those thoughts continued as her feet stopped, directly before the prince who looked up from his book.

Gabriel shies away from her gaze to avoid the scorn she did not realise was worn. Visha felt the same awkward shame she felt before around the shy body language. She had marched herself over here, that alone meant she was expected to talk first. His Highness' seeming inability to speak to being a logical second.

"Good afternoon, Your Highness."

Visha did not feel confident enough to outright grill him on last night.

"Miss Serebryakov."

He stood up, flipping to new pages in the book, hiding in the confines of what appeared to be a bible. "It's pleasant to see you."

The obvious topic hung overhead but otherwise unmentioned. How would be possible to bring it up a sensitive topic without causing offence - or retaliation. Visha admittedly feared the vile look of hatred directed at the deceased Toth levied at her.

Mr. Stuart kept those menacing eyes down, reading out loud from his book. "And whosoever shall offend one of these little ones that believe in me, it is better for him that a millstone was hanged about his neck, and he were cast into the sea."

At that, he closed the book and hugged it to his chest. His words and book were used for the mutual purpose of protection in case of imagined retaliation.

At least he had opened the discourse to the topic, worse was the steadfastness in his position.

"Is that your attempt to retroactively justify last night, sir?" Visha knew they were alone but peeked around to ensure they were alone.

"It's not an attempt if it's successful."

The look of disgust Visha cast prompted Gabriel into wondering how much of a mirror to her mother it was.

"The outcome was not planned, but I will not be better off regretting my mistake against someone who is not worth mourning."

"But you still looked to the gospel for justification?"

"I simply wanted to make sure I was not committing a sin."

Visha sighed, frustrated but reasonable. It was a pointless talking point, at least for now. There was something else she wanted from this engagement. A desire of indulgence related to those things that had been buzzing over her head for the past six weeks.

"Is this your plane?" This was an opportunity to satiate that niggling curiosity. She had no idea when the next chance she would get to peek at these things.

"No, this is," Gabriel looked over his shoulder to the aircraft. Stowing the book away on the create he used as a seat. "This is Wendy-Twelve, Peggie's plane. It got hit rather horribly over the capital the other day, so we need to fix it up before we leave."

He tapped a painted number along the main body. "I fly Wendy-Seven."

Visha stepped towards the rear seat where the mage was supposed to sit. His Highness silently watched her. It was calling her name, an irresistible plaything that was begging for her attention. "Can I?"

He nodded as he motioned for her to go in, stuttering her instructions where to place her foot. Extremely oversized in design with the Commonwealth's bulky mage boots. Able to hoist herself up easily and slide into the gunner's seat with further ease.

"Are all the planes named after a woman?" His Highness shook his head, awkwardly smiling throughout.

"Wendy is not a woman. It's the aircraft model: Wendigo." He tapped the vehicle as he named it. Reading the confusion on her face and explaining what on earth the plane was named after.

"It's an aboriginal creature, an evil spirit possessing men to have them trick and cannibalize others." He pointed to each body part as he described it. "Human-like but with longer limbs, white skin and sharp pointed teeth. Peggie tells the story better I will admit. Her community has enough stories throughout their history."

"So, a cryptid?" Visha smiled out the side of the plane labelled after mythology. 'You talk as if this thing is real. Why not name it after a bird or actual animal like the Empire?"

"You cannot be certain about that," Visha was surprised he tried to justify the clearly fictional. "There has to be some reality in the story. I like the name regardless."

"But don't you think a man-eating creature and spirit would be better recorded outside of localized stories?"

Gabriel was silent, a seemingly normal status for him "I understand that stance, but I still believe in their validity."

"I just hope Aquilonian cities have some big walls to defend from Wendigo attacks."

"No, we do not. What good is a wall if they can be easily scaled by the enemy?"

Visha carefully explained her remark was to be humorous. Gabriel's face dropping in likely embarrassment apologised in a muttered speech he directed to his boots firmly planted on the ground.

Visha used the silence to further sink herself into the seat, spacious when not wearing flight gear. Her boots hit something at the bottom then picked up the rattling item in the bottom of the hole. One of the steel soup bowl-like helmets the Albion's frequently used. The notable addition of two spent shotgun shells wrapped around the base with a layer of cloth.

"Is this Peggie's?" She held it up for Mr. Stuart to see.

"So that's where she put it." He reached up to grab it, out of range from the ground. In his continued caution and perhaps social awkwardness he relented from climbing on the side where he would be during battle. Visha should have known he would decide to physically distance himself at all costs.

With the metal helmet, she gestured him to climb up, repeating the motion until he finally realised what was being asked. Wordlessly he came up beside her, hanging on the outside of the craft but refusing to get any closer. Just as well in case, it might be a problem for her as an Imperial to be getting too friendly with royalty in this setting.

"Are those the same shells from the ambush?" Visha asked as Gabriel took the item and placed it back down where his book was safely kept. The first time she saw His Highness kill in wrath, stabbing a Dacian in the neck before splitting his head open.

"Yes." He was distant in answering. Still evidently uneasy with the event, if for different reasons than Visha. "Her way of showing how she survived death. I am just glad there is only two of them."

It would be best to leave that topic there, dead in the air. If it would inevitably lead to an unhappy topic it was

There was a large-scale jungle gym she had to experience. What was there to gain from ruining her first time on a plane? She wanted to enjoy her first and possibly last time in the gunner seat of an aeroplane. Although that title might not be accurate at the moment.

"Where's the machine gun?"

"It's being cleaned. I imagine you don't get to use anything that big in the Empire. Or do you?" His Highness pulled himself up further on the footrest and continued hanging on the aircraft next to her. Finally shorter than herself by the same negligence amount he outgrew her.

"I remember thinking something like that in basic training. But since those types of weapons are so heavy I don't mind sticking to my rifle.

Visha mimed holding and firing the mounted weapon, making the rapid-fire sound with her tongue and teeth. Imagining an enemy mage or bomber plane in her nonexistent sights. It was childish fun but a rare occasion where she could simply play.

Most of the 203rd used semiautomatic rifles, but some like Neumann occasionally used a heavy machine gun on the battlefield. If they attached one to the plane it would enhance the planes abilities. Visha explained her thoughts and was met with respectful resistance.

"I'm not sure. We need to keep weight in mind. I think Commonwealth weaponry is just as good."

"Do you want to bet? I've seen some of the newer models from the Empire. They're like buzz saws." Visha played a much faster firing sound as she fired the invisible gun. Demonstrating how serious she took this argument. Gabriel did seem to be put at ease with the silliness of their discussion.

"What good will it do if you cannot hit anything? The Lewis gun got us through the last war, and they will get us through the Rhine."

Visha looked away from her imaginary weapon to the younger teenager hanging off the side. He looked unaware of how cocky he sounded, admirable if he was remotely aware of the subject.

"You're going to need more than a machine gun to survive the Rhine. Never mind making a breakthrough, sir."

"How do you mean, Miss Serebryakov?" He seemed genuinely ignorant to what she meant.

"The Rhine front is entirely different from here or the Rumali war."

"I understand that it is stagnant at the moment, that that cannot last forever. Maybe these things will be the spearhead we need."

Gabriel tapped the canvas of the creature he put extensive overconfidence in.

"No, I don't think you understand sir." She leaned in, matched by the prince pulling away to maintain a gap. There could be no doubt on this subject no matter what. "The Rhine doesn't have any spearheads. It's two lines of trenches charging straight at each other. There's no large-scale mobility of any kind if you're on the ground. The only strategy is to run into machine guns and pray you're not the one who gets hit."

She looked directly at him, calling him to focus on her each time he looked away.

"For mages, if they detect your mana they drown you out with flack guns and send a battalion after you. Not even artillery spotters are safe."

His Highness was starved for a response, only nodding when asked if he understood. Visha knew he was unintentionally wrong/lying, no one who had not lived through that hell could comprehend it.

"What's that thing?" Visha pointed down from her perch to another painted detail to the aircraft. Black standing out from the dark green and blue paint mix. A contentious image with four ends shaped into a square. Gabriel followed her finger to name the unknown image.

"It is a swastika. A good luck symbol in some aboriginal tribes. Peggie likes it for some reason."

It was hard to view from the side so Visha shimmied back out of the seat to jump to the ground. His Highness offered his hand to guide her as she exited her mount. There was hesitation in his action be he was still able to offer the aid. Visha's panic at touching a superior officer and prince was put to the side. If he was bold enough to do the action it would be improper to render his deed worthless.

"I think I've seen it before." She said while jumping down with the prince's help. Himself joining afterwards to look at the shape.

"Other cultures do it, mostly in Bharat and the Far East. I would not be surprised if it has some roots in the Germanic culture." He chuckled slightly at recalling a memory; correcting his attitude and wording before he started. "My-" Any joy he had evaporated at the figures name. "The queen received a rug from an Arab ambassador many years ago. It had an outline of these things."

Visha stood closer to the image, the prince mutinously shifted behind her. Stressed over what she guessed what else should be said. It was her apparent turn to offer aid to the best of her abilities.

"It's a rather simple design, ingenious almost."

"I have never been fond of it." The prince made it into a solid uninterrupted sentence. Visha tried but could not get a deeper answer beyond "Not certain why" or "an ugly look."

His Highness continued on the subject of Peggie, perhaps finding ease in mentioning his trusted companion. "At one point Peggie wanted to paint it on her helmet. I think because she knows I dislike it. So, we settled for the plane. The sod."

"What's a sod?" Visha turned away from the plane to look at the Lieutenant.

"A way to express and classify stupidity, I think. Major Hanover uses the term more than myself."

Visha looked puzzled at the genuineness in the definition. "I hope you don't mind me saying this Mr. Stuart, but you don't seem to be enjoying Peggie's company."

"How do you mean?"

Visha combined her thoughts to best articulate her point. "How you talk about her isn't like normal friends."

"I think I talk about her like that because we are such good friends."

"I don't understand."

"I guess you call it a form of love." Mr. Stuart had no reservations about the answers he gave, bleeding into the certainty he had on the matter of Peggie. "We find it amusing to critique each other. We know each other's flaws more than our own, so we trust each other to expose them. I realise it is unusual to others looking in."

"I wouldn't talk to my family like that. Would you?"

"No." There was no hesitation in the answer. "It's different for family. You just have to experience it, Miss Serebryakov."

"So," Visha's mind wandered into that dangerous territory, not realising the potential mistake until the sentence was past her lips. "Would you do this with anyone else then, like Regina?"

His Highness looked away at the name of his alleged love. "Never. it is not the type of activity you do with romance; I think."

"You think?" Visha was giggling uncontrollably at the wording, amused more than she had any right to be.

"It has not been a theory I have had time to test."

"Not even with Peggie?"

Then it was the prince's turn to scoff aloud. "I would rather do many things before I would date that woman."

They were both laughing now, her giggle louder. "That's not exactly what I meant Mr. Stuart but I will respect the certainty."

"Maybe we can find our answer to this question can be solved if Peggie and Mr. Grantz manage to stick it out."

Summoned by their names, and possibly by the laughter, Peggie and the accompanying Imperial approached the disassembled aeroplane. Visha turned to accept the additional partners in their conversation. Hands behind her back in a presentable manner, a wink given to His Highness to indicate the secretive nature of their conversation.

She had a secret with Prince Gabriel. Not something she was to keep hidden under threat of incrimination and a napalm-type formula, an actual hidden fact that friends would keep. Did that mean they were friends? Visha felt heat radiate from her cheeks at the thought. A friend, as in someone she could trust. She did trust him in a professional context. Personally, it was confused and unclear before last night, then the murder of Toth muddled the thought. Friendship required mutual affection and support. Father had to remind her more than once it was a two-way relationship while she was in school. Apparently, she could still be gullible at nineteen.

Visha shook her head. Forcing herself to return to the present moment. She should be fantasised about the flight north. Another thing for her fellow officers to tease her on. She had to focus on the conversation that was currently happening.

"You making fun of my charm Gabriel?" Peggie spoke loudly to announce herself and Grantz when they were well in earshot. The prince gave a solemn "correct" once they were at the plane. His Highness proves his thesis of trust and love in a live display, if unintentional.

Peggie made a rude face to complete the cycle, then transitioned into polite conversation with her fellow female. "What'd you think Visha? Better than the Empire's gear?"

Grantz laughed at her, smiling and asking his partner why she was bringing this topic up again. Peggie shrugged him off for Visha to answer.

"Girl talk, quiet." She shushed him while remaining only partly serious. Adding in another comment without shame.

"I'm surprised you didn't get stuck in the seat. I mean, honestly." Peggie brought both hands to attempt to cup her chest, prompting the automatic response to shield herself from the attention. "How do you find a corset to fit those things?"

Visha feared embarrassment more than the male gaze around her. Each adverting their eyes until the scene ended and normality could return.

Was this how the prince's description of loving hateful banter started? If so, she wanted it to stop. It was not the first comment of her breasts from the Aqulonian, that belonged to a carbonated drink shared when Peggie told her about Rinehart for the first time. That occasion was marked by envy for larger assets rather than playful assault.

"Calm down Peggie." Whether Mr. Stuart acted on his discomfort or for protecting the fairer sex, he waved away the grabbing hands. Filling the hands seeking boobs with the lost helmet. Sabotaging the topic by reintroducing the first point. "Miss Serebryakov misses the machine gun. Thinks the Empire makes better machine guns than we do."

The conversation became divided between nationalities, each biased in defence of their favourite country. The discussion had reached a stalemate between efficiency and cost when Major Degurechaff had surprisingly announced

"You're all wrong. The weapon's credentials only matter as much as the training of its user. I thought you two would know better." She directed false ire at her men, then cited the threat of possible future training in the mountains if they wanted a refresher.

"A decent assessment," Peggie reared her tongue to be sarcastic as the Major stood before them. "Not certain it counts since most of these things are twice your size and weight. You still need to shoot the things to get a feel for them."

"And with brashness like that, you'll end up dead on the receiving end of one. If you're not careful of course." The Major bit back. Neither factually incorrect yet actively antagonising the other to the detriment of the pleasant atmosphere. Mr. Stuart

Apparently, Hanover had to take a call in private and the Major could not afford to wait any longer. "We have a plane to catch. Be sure your superior write to me as I requested Lieutenant Stuart."

The request was confirmed before final social notes were made. The Major repeated Visha's own sentiments about the Rhine front and requested extreme caution. Mr. Stuart accepted the advice at face value. They could both tell he would need to experience it for himself

"Just don't do anything too drastic once you're there, sir. No one expects anything like that from you or your unit." Tanya smiled at her advice. Possibly sounding harsh to virgin ears but those who worked with her would know it was a way of expressing caution. Wars are not won in a day or by a single man, do not feel the need to fill that role.

"We want one final crack at the Republic anyways. Make sure you keep them Franks ready for us." Major Degurechaff looked up to her two mages present. "I would like a brief word with the prince if you two would not mind."

They lacked the ability to choose but had no problem bidding the order. Grantz and Peggie had their early couple ritual to go through first, but they too would soon leave the Major and prince in privacy.

"Good luck sir." Visha said as she turned away, preparing to put all this behind her, collect her pack and get on the plane with the others. It was unknown to her when the 27th and the matter of murder would rear its head again.

Visha stopped, Grantz, continuing to the plane without her. There was something she should do before leaving, something she wanted to do. The values installed in her by her upbringing should not be discounted for the sake of temporary comfort or perceived safety.

Visha turned around and returned to the plane. The Major was shaking Mr. Stuart's hand as the other Commonwealth men surrounded the plane engine. The female excepted from that rule was sat in the cockpit, noticing her beeline for the prince and nodding before focusing solely on the Wendigo.

The Major finished when Visha returned to the spot she already spent enough time in.

"Lieutenant Serebryakov?" The Major appeared perplexed for a moment, realising soon what her purpose was. Evolving into a smug face impressed with her personal second. "Want a final word with Prince Gabriel? I see. Well, I won't hold either of up, just make sure you keep it quick Serebryakov."

She then left after delivering a final order to catch the plane, lest she have to walk to their destination by the next day to brew her coffee.

Visha took up a formal posture then abandoned it for one more relaxed, wanting this to be quick and not needing to continue it after the Major left them alone.

"Mr. Stuart. I hope we can meet again in the near future. You were..." Delicate wording was needed. "You were good, fun, to be around."

She reached for the letter she sealed earlier, hesitant to ask for any kind of favour but unsure how else she could overtly display her trust in him. The thoughts of her parents also took up the majority of her conscience.

"I hope I am not stepping over the line, but I have a favour to request. The Empire's mail system is unreliable at the best of times if it isn't for the General Staff or government. Is it possible you could get this to them? So, they know I'm alive and well after Dacia. It's the address on the envelope."

Mr. Stuart slowly took the paper, careful in case it might burst into flames at his touch. Promising to keep it safe as he safely stowed in the pages of his bible where the wind could not carry it away.

"I will take care of it, Miss Serebryakov. You have my word."

She offered her hand, it hung in the air until Mr. Stuart decided to shake it. His grip, shaking before his skin met hers, was the biggest clue he was still nervous in the encounter.

"I will pray for your success and survival. Good luck Miss Serebryakov. God be with you."

"God be with you Mr. Stuart."

The handshake ended and Visha turned back, resisting to look back as she walked away. Starting a friendship, she was certain of it and her desire for it.

07/11/1924 / Constanța, Kingdom of Dacia / Constanța Town Hall, Reserved Offices / 22:19

"How was the meeting with the girl?" Miss Sanders announced her presence with a question. Annabelle still felt conflicted on the matter of Degurechaff. Answering with her head in the pages of a file. The propaganda photograph of the file's subject on top of the gathered details on the major.

"It went well. You played the part of the disgruntled maid quite well as always."

"I always try my best for you, ma'am,"

Out of all the girls, only the head maid had the privilege to be snarky and dissenting to their Domina. One part is a privilege and another to build trust between the pair. There was no use in a leading advisor that was merely a yes-man for the ego.

"It is a wretched reality that a girl so young must take up arms for a flag." Annabelle stood up from the table and faced the maid. "If she was mine she would be nothing more than a cadet. Never mind a major."

"Her record does speak for itself, ma'am." Miss Sanders held the folder she brought for her monarch into her side. All too familiar with how conversations went. They needed to settle one topic before beginning another. It was an inflexible standard.

"Despite her age, she shows capabilities beyond most officers. It is fair to say she's capable of her position."

"In the immediate future perhaps, the long term, however." Annabelle scoffed, feeling pitiable as she was lowly frustrated. "The General Staff must be fools to think putting a baby in a uniform and sending them into the hornets' nest will make them look strong. They promote her as a commodity."

She looked down to a propaganda photo of little Tanya looking joyful in a red dress, more dolled up than herself.

"A moral dilemma we can exploit."

"Exactly. As long as they have a child on the front lines of the army, we can criticize them without repercussions. A permeant advantage in all negotiations."

The maid nodded along, occupying the same thought as her Domina. "Do you believe we should try anything on her? I'm not certain we can get one of the girls to observe her consistently."

"We do not need to do anything yet. I will have James push the matter when it suits us. For now, her contact with Gabriel should suffice. It hardly looks ill to have a prince look after a child in a dangerous situation."

"And on the topic of your youngest ma'am?" Sanders gave the folder over, eagerly opened by Annabelle. Reading through the first page as Sanders explained the contents.

"Miss Canvel compiled a report on last night. She confirmed His Highness left in the company of Miss Serebryakov and returned with Miss Pierre. We cannot confirm what occurred between them or how many were involved but most of the girls agree it to be a manageably small number. The disappearance of Lieutenant Tóth with Imperial military police and local government. They suspect thieves or vengeful troops, but no relevant names have come up."

"What about the gunshots?"

"Neither His Highness nor Miss Pierre has taken medical treatment in secret and there is no indication found the rest of the mechanised mage wing or the Empire's mage unit. We can assume Miss Pierre is still in possession of the gun. Miss Mills found spent bullets and casings encased in a wall not far from the jailhouse where Tóth was last seen. Along with burn marks and some ash on the ground, but it is uncertain if it is related to our investigation. All evidence has been collected and is awaiting your order for destruction."

"Thank the Lord." Annabelle looked at her companion, not caring if she appeared nerve stricken. Her children were safe, and the family protected, that was all that mattered.

"Then he is hiding the interaction. He must have been attacked first and feels the need to cover it up. Gabriel would know how it would look for the Commonwealth." Annabelle was proud she raised a clever boy. It was far from an ideal situation, but Gabriel knew which role to play. One day when he was older he could be allowed in on these operations.

Miss Sanders raised the silent issue.

"There remains a possible series of events you have neglected ma'am."

"That would be?" Sanders told of the personal notes left by Canvel, adding her interpretation from what she knew. "It is possible Gabriel and Miss Pierre attacked and murdered him. To quote the girl from Sheffield herself, "If my theory is true, I hope he made it hurt."

"No of course not. My baby boy would never murder anyone in that manner. They must have been attacked." Annabelle knew she was biased to defend her child. The evidence could be unsurmountable, and she would still look for an excuse. This was different; she was certain Gabriel would never do such a questionable act.

"It must have been an attack of opportunity. The man thinking, he could take on two mages since they were drunk. I know my boy would never do anything like that. He nearly drove himself mad by following the church Rome when he was a boy. Why would he do such a thing?"

AN:

This chapter has been completed for about three weeks but had to be held on account of my beta readers being unavailable. One with sickness and the other having quite literally no time to spare. All well that ends well since I think the piece is better because of their guidance.

We have now seen the Albion queen. I anticipate (and hope) the buildup was sufficient to her reveal in this chapter. The plan was to show her influence indirectly over other characters in the story to then reveal how she is in person.

I included Visha having rambling thoughts to try and imitate her tendency to fantasise and overthink situations she is in. It is seen occasionally in the manga when she is the (rare) point of view character. The best example being when she is to meet Tanya for the first time at her photoshoot and imagines her to be a man, concluding battlefield romance is a possible conclusion. But I wanted that to become a reoccurring trait so have included it. Mostly when she is in what she perceives to be important moments with Gabriel. I hope it was not too confusing to any readers.

A reminder that there is a deviant art page for this story and the Saint of Letzenbourg. Name on my profile since links cannot be put in stories.

Thank you all for reading.