Quicksilver saw Cortez make a motion and a guard with thick cuffs in hand moved forward into the X-Man's blind-spot, the extra devices shining silver in the noonday sun. They looked like the kind of upper-arm manacles used to restrain a prisoner further. It would pin their arms back and keep them from being utilized completely. This wouldn't do.

"Now this is a strange sight," Pietro remarked as he stood directly behind Cortez. The entire battalion froze, and on command their leader barked the group to attention. Swiftly, the men snapped into formation, the one looking to restrain the woman crisply standing at salute for their prince. The Acolyte, unexpecting anyone, least of all Quicksilver to be behind him, jolted uncomfortably. 'Good.' he thought with more than his share of satisfaction. He truly disliked the toadying sycophant.

Pietro caught Rogue's eyes, as she gave him a short wave and a grateful half-smile. She didn't look too bedraggled, but decidedly wet, and her uniform had more than its share of battle damage. 'What had they done here?' he thought to himself, a disconcerted feeling settling in his gut. "My father isn't the most tolerant of people," he said, loudly, clearly. Distinctly. "But if I am not mistaken, the lady is going willingly, isn't she? Any further fetters seem…unnecessary."

"Ah was invited," Rogue piped up, pulling out a sodden letter from her pocket. One guard brought their rifle up reflexively. However, with a raised hand from his commander they had their arms snapped back to something slightly less than threatening.

Slightly.

"Yes, yes, so you said," Cortez said, waving his hand dismissively. He didn't bother to look at the letter at all.

'Clearly he knew, and he truly didn't care. If he was going to take her in the wrong direction, he must have other plans.' Quicksilver, not just in action, but in thought as well. He reasoned this out and set himself firmly against the snake before Cortez completed the inhale at the end of his sentence.

Pietro knew he had to be careful, though. He had only just arrived, and he trusted his instincts, and his closer allegiance to the X-Men than some of his own flesh and blood. Even so, proof would need to be verified, and obtained.

He had work to do.

"And did you check with my father?" Pietro asked, feigning disbelief. It seemed to work, because Cortez jumped on it like a duck on a beetle.

"She only just arrived, we hadn't had the time," the Acolyte replied, looking to excuse, to distract.

"Oh, of course. Only enough time to collar and shackle her?" Pietro asked with a raised eyebrow. The vainglorious fool was stupid enough to stumble into such an obvious trap.

"It's fine." she interjected swiftly. "Folks're just jumpy, is all. Let's go talk ta Magnus and we can clear all this up," Rogue said, cutting in, gentling her voice to act as the voice of reason.

"Lord Magnus." Cortez interposed smoothly, but with enough tone to act offended. One of the guards shifted, perhaps to move closer, perhaps not. Taking that moment and movement for another display and test of his power, Pietro acted.

In a flash, Quicksilver was standing by Rogue's side, positioning himself between his friend, the soldier, and Cortez. He was ready to demand the release of the collar before they could go further. Actually, more than ready, he decided he wanted it. Really, really wanted it. He had seen Crystal put on the airs of an aristocrat, had stood around for Doom's bloviating monologues to know snide regal superiority to know how to mimic it.

After all, if everyone was calling his father king, then obviously he must have some authority too. He tilted his head back to look down his nose, opened his mouth to haughtily interject, to declaim, but a hand on his arm halted him. He turned his head, seeing Rogue give him a significant look conveying the tone to wait. Her tattered glove squeezed his forearm comfortingly.

"It's fine," Rogue repeated in a hushed tone. "Let's jus' keep goin'."

"Yes, let's see your father, Pietro. I hadn't realized he knew of your arrival. Please, allow me the honor of escorting you there." the leader of the Acolytes wheedled, looking to find a way to turn the narrative to his favor, to speak before the rest could.

"Let's go then," Pietro said, turning his stare back at Cortez. "If my father is expecting her, we shouldn't keep him waiting," he said.

"No, of course not," he replied dryly. Pietro turned to escort Rogue, but he thought he heard a small sigh of relief come from the other man. Neither he nor Rogue saw that Cortez was mopping his brow with one hand as they made their way into the city, this time towards the center, instead of the edges.

Finally, their strange procession reached their destination. There had been many security checks to walk through, and once entering the large central building where Magneto had taken up residence, they were stopped many more times. Rogue observed that Cortez loved to announce the Prince, himself, and (most evidently) his "guest" though it was evident he barely used the word. Indeed, he tried to avoid even speaking her name along with the title.

Their walk to the center of the city took some time, and it was done in complete silence on both their parts. The roads were made clear as they traveled, but finally, she was being escorted through the halls built off the back of mutate slavery. The whole country made Rogue vaguely sick.

'You have to live with it. It's being made over, 'n better.' Cold words that offered cold comfort.

However, they finally arrived at where Magneto was receiving attendance. It seemed to be a large hall, one for receiving large amounts of guests. It was empty save for a side table with a cabinet of advisors. In the center there was long runner, a dais, and a throne perched atop. Sprawled across the massive seat was Magneto, looking pensively into the distance.

"Great Lord Magneto, long may you reign," Cortez intoned, sinking to one knee. With a gesture, he had two guards detach from their detail and they forcibly 'guided' Rogue to both of hers. "I have come - " he broke off, choking as the finials that were attached to his fine cape lifted up. That action carried him off his feet as the cords twisted and crossed in front of him, tightening around his neck, constricting his airflow.

"You were notified of Rogue's arrival, Cortez, yet you bring her as close to in chains as you can," Magneto said.

Rogue felt another chill, this one in her spine. Memories whirled in front of her eyes; strapped to a metal table in a humid jungle, with more questions than answers. In the Antarctic snow and ice as he swore that he would marshall his resources and return to do it all over again. When he spoke before the court in Paris before the Seine pulled them all under. When they were in the impromptu dance hall as he instructed his students.

He spoke then like he was speaking now. These were the careful tones of a man that was choosing words that will change the future of a soul, for good or ill. He, clearly, took his role as headmaster, as leader, as executioner seriously. And here, Rogue wasn't quite certain exactly which role the Master of Magnetism would assume. But if not in a county, he ruled, where else could he assume such a role?

"What is this latest misguided attempt to coddle favor with me?" Magneto asked, as his hand opened.

'Alright,' Rogue thought nervously. 'Anger's makin' executioner seems more likely,' she thought. Not that she liked Cortez but she didn't want to watch the man die either, just for treating her roughly. The punishment didn't fit the crime.

Thankfully, Rogue watched as Cortez's trapments were released and he fell back as Magneto closed his hand once more. He staggered to his feet, letting his heels clack to the floor. Fabian took a gasping breath in and tried to regain his composure. Tried.

"Lord Magneto, I only work in favor of the people of Genosha, your people of Genosha." he cosseted, gesturing to Pietro. "Look who I have brought to the palace!"

Brought indeed. Rogue managed to keep from audibly snorting, but her nose quivered and held for a moment, clearly unimpressed. Eventually, she managed to smooth her face, but it was a bit of a struggle.

Pietro took the opportunity to interject and say his piece. "Father, I-"

"A moment, my son. First I will hear from his own lips, exactly why," the Master of Magnetism said as Cortez was pushed backwards and held in place by his armored limbs and chest, away from the group. The commander of the squadron gave another order, and they moved away immediately. Commanders knew how to protect their people, and with a wave of Magneto's hand, he swiftly understood that he and his armed guard were no longer needed.

"Why Cortez thought to take such overzealous strides these past few weeks. Who he thinks I am that I would approve of such…base tactics as striking a sleeping enemy for no other reason than in spite." Rogue made a small noise as he used his powers and she was pulled to one side, further from Cortez, but also Pietro as well. It seemed she was taking a spot in the triad that formed, Cortez to one side, Magneto on his dais, Pietro halfway between his father and the upstart Acolyte.

With Rogue the triangle became four sides of a square, or perhaps even, the end points between the lines in the letter "X". Perhaps he only wanted a clear view of the Acolyte without involving Rogue in the crosshairs. Perhaps.

Cortez made a startled cry, and Pietro responded with a shocked "Father!"

Rogue watched, not enjoying her passivity, but instead trying to assume, once again, despite how difficult it was, to trust Magneto. It was time to put the trust she kept trying to sell to Xavier to the test here.

Magneto's face did not lessen, did not soften, but the metal stopped creaking and Cortez was able to breathe again.

"Th…thank you…" Cortez gasped raggedly. "Thank you, Lord Magneto." He babbled his apologies. Excuses. Reasonings. Straw-men arguments.

He ran out of words eventually, and looked up at the dais. "And s-so now, she…" he paused and took a breath, hiding behind the law. "She must keep the collar on for the good of the nation!" he ended, blustering wildly.

"That's disgusting!" Pietro scoffed, furiously gesturing between her and the Acolyte. "She was invi-"

"I don't make the law!" he returned, gaining momentum and strength. "I merely am an agent of its delive-"

"Shut up," Pietro groaned, at the limit of his patience with this cretin. "No one wants to hear you prate on about how much you love to obey."

"An X-Man can't be allowed to walk around the country with full impgunit-"

"I accept," Rogue said, simply, calmly, matter of factly.

"What?!" Astonishing, how a word could be pronounced three different ways. Cortez, with barely stifled fury and pleasure alike. Magneto, one hand raised into a tight fist, the air fairly shimmering with power around it. Anger and astonishment was in his tone, and clear on his face.

As for Pietro…

A fellow mutant, those collars disgusted him on an instinctual level. What she said was absolute madness. Baffled, he reasoned that Charles Xavier must put something in the water to cause the X-Men to willingly allow-

Bewildered, but intrigued, he fell silent as he watched the scene unravel.

The room fell silent at Rogue's declaration. She leveled a look at everyone in the room, and for a moment, she felt like she wanted to hit them all over their heads, one by one. This kind of politicking was unseemly, but she understood the necessity of it. She mentally squared her shoulders. Then she smiled.

"Look, Ah get it," she said, her voice instantly smooth and welcoming. It was truly a shame for Cortez that he didn't realize her very tone was a trap. Southerners don't turn the charm on that hard unless they're furious.

Truth be told, Rogue was nearly beside herself at this point. All the training through her life was needed in this moment to keep a calm face even while inside she boiled, churned, or was in a fugue state of confusion thanks to her original powers. Thanks to it in the past, she'd managed to look composed and attentive, rather than furiously frightened. Now it masked her frustration, anger, and fear. Once again, she would have to prove herself to a group and gain their trust.

She could do this. "You're worried, need protection. Known allota folk like you, requiring everything stacked their way, just so. Just right. So go ahead," she encouraged him, flashing a wide, warm smile. Oh yes, he should beware. "Do whatever you need to make sure you feel nice an' comfortable."

"You deserve more. You deserve jewelry. Not a collar, not a cage," Magneto interjected roughly, breaking the brittle silence. His words were partly growled, partly murmured for her ears alone. Perhaps she poured the accent on too much? It was reflected back on her, it seemed.

While Rogue had more than conflicted feelings about the Genoshan technology, a small part of her felt an electric thrill at the prospect of wearing it in Magneto's presence. It made her feel a little giddy, a little reckless. Almost like they were back in the Savage Lands with no barriers keeping them from-

"You are my guest and you should-"

"Ah don't mind," Rogue said, the sentence slipping out, and she felt her face flushing as she realized what she'd said. So much for that composure. "I mean, out and about. Not in here, right? Not under your supervision?" she said. '… If I don't want to.' Couldn't she keep her thoughts together? Think!

She cast her eyes away from his, not sure if she could stand the embarrassment of it. She decided instead to focus on her anger, her indignant attitude towards the craven Acolyte. Cortez was spluttering, his own expression affronted and wary. He looked like he wanted to complain, to object. But after the response Rogue gave Cortez, so encouraging, and so earnest in its gentle barbs referring to his fears of safety around her, there was little he could but agree.

Despite what people thought, she was a pretty good listener. She heard it in his voice, he was scared of her. After having so many lives in your head, you learned how to pay attention to others in a lot of different ways. Moreover she knew it was important to understand the people and events around, imprint the knowledge just as she imprinted their memories and powers.

"Your… sensitivity to an X-Man's presence in Genosha is greatly appreciated. Despite these challenges, you handle them with the aplomb of a diplomat." Magneto praised. "You'll hold onto the device, then?" he asked, taking a step forward, holding it out to her.

"Ah-huh," she said as her hand grasped it from him, their fingers brushing up against the others and she finally glanced up at him. It took effort not to gasp at the fire in his eyes. "Didn't mean to cause a ruckus. But maybe, sometime soon, we could have that talk?" Her heart was going to pound right out of her chest depending on how he responded.

"Would his Majesty care for me to show Rogue to her guest quarters?" Ameila asked, breaking the palpable tension, earning Rogue's gratitude.

"Yes, thank you, Commander," Magneto replied, as Voght bowed and Rogue forced herself to look away from him. She wanted to say so much, this whole experience was -

"Rogue, considering you accepted my invitation, and these events, I would like to make this a vocal declaration, so that there is no confusion. I wish to discuss why I asked you here over dinner. Tonight." he said, it was framed in as much of a question as a King could allow himself. The room's witnesses took an intake of breath, an audible gust.

Her head turned back to him, her bright green eyes wide in surprise. "Yes. Sure. Thank you," she said, agreeing. Anything to end this moment before she exploded, from embarrassment, pleasure, outrage, or just pure tension.

"Good," he said, with a stern nod, but his eyes told a different tale. Those smoldered.

Rogue was in a bit of a quandary now. Was she supposed to curtsey? She wasn't of his country; she was an American, through and through. What do folks do when-

"Now, where were we? I was hoping that someone had sighted duParis in the recent months-"

Amelia gripped Rogue's arm and the world dissipated in hazy green fog.