Sakuya would have liked to have used the word disaster to describe what had happened. It would have so neatly encapsulated everything so that she wouldn't have to suffer describing it in greater detail. But the truth was, calling it a disaster would have been unfair to disasters. This had been a complete and unmitigated catastrophe. All that was left was to count the bodies and tally the insurance claims.
    Between Rio making a fool of himself and a mockery of every effort to lead the evening back towards fruitful discussion, and Mortimer's mishandling of a non-problem that he'd created entirely on his own, it would be miracle if their collective credibility didn't take a nose dive. She could just see the headlines of the Daily ALfheim. 'Lords and Ladies Open Mouth, Insert Foot!' Netzel had been muttering something to that effect as Sakuya was leaving the stage.
    Where had Rio even learned about Rip Jack's connection to Mortimer? She was fairly sure none of her own people were Rio supporters. Was it just a lucky find, or something more? Another lead for Argo and Kirito to follow up on.
    "I suppose I should have been more forceful when I presented my case." The Puca following her from the Lobby whispered apologetically. Behind them, the background roar of the audience was fast fading. Alicia and Thinker had made the sacrifice and stayed behind to answer questions from the 'Press' to buy everyone else time to get away without being swamped. It seemed to be working given the nearly abandoned hallway ahead of them. "I'm very sorry Lady Sakuya, I thought I'd be able to handle Rio-san by myself, but I didn't prepare very well after all…"
    Sakuya sighed to herself, no, she was the only one who should be beating herself up here. She had naively expected a civil discussion and hadn't been prepared when Noel wasn't able to keep Rio in check. But she should have known, really, all people like Rio ever wanted was attention and that was easy to come by so long as you didn't mind the type. "Don't be so hard on yourself." She advised with as much gentleness and patience as she could muster. At the moment, she was finding both to be in short supply.
    The anxiety of presenting herself to thousands of people, the frustration, and stress of holding her composure when she just wanted to scream and shout. At that moment, Sakuya felt like her mind was made of jagged metal and broken glass.
    "Rio is the one who should be apologizing." She explained. "But the truth is that it's easier to make a scene then it is to maintain your dignity."
    "I… see…" Regin answered slowly, causing Sakuya to tilt her head towards the scholarly Puca. She felt a sense of pity welling up. After seeing the eloquence of his writing, it was really a shame that he  wasn't as decisive a speaker. Maybe, with time he'd be able to acquire the knack for it. It hadn't come easy for her either at first. Regin smiled wanly. "Still, I'm rather disappointed. I'd been hoping for an opportunity to have a real discussion with you and the other Lords, Sakuya-san. It would have been a once in a lifetime opportunity."
    Sakuya tried hard not to laugh, Regin was sounding like some sort of admirer, and really he was much too sweet to embarrass him like that. "Really? I think you might be expecting a bit too much from us. From me in particular." She admitted once they were safely out of earshot and flanked once more by Sylph guards. This hallway would lead to an elevated back entrance from which Sakuya and the other Lords could depart without having to wait for the crowds to disperse. At the moment, she couldn't have been more thankful for that.
    "I… wouldn't say that at all." Regin insisted with a small stutter. "We're making history after all. In fact, for everything I've said, I really do think we are very fortunate to have you, Sakuya-san."
    Making history? It had barely crossed her mind before now. Reading about it in books and manuscripts was one thing, living it was something else entirely. Really, she'd just been doing her best to make their time here safer and more bearable. But in doing so, she was defining that time and the impression they would leave. So yes, she was making history. The question was whose?
    Alicia admitting aloud what they all feared had resonated deeply with something inside of her. Would the Faeries be some footnote in Halkegenia's history, strange foreigners that appeared for a time and then returned home? Or, if the worst happened, would her own children read about her in history books while taking lessons alongside the sons and daughters of Noblemen? And what legacy would she leave behind?
    No, it was much too ridiculous, Sakuya thought, she was really nothing special. She'd just been in the right place at the right time, and bluffed in the right ways. Maybe her fellow Faeries would remember her, but she'd be a footnote to everyone else on the Continent, and that almost came as a relief. "I suppose you shouldn't let Rute hear that." She said while trying to hold back a bit of tired laughter. "He's insufferable enough as it is."
    "Too true, I suppose." Regin shook his head. "Still, a wasted opportunity."
    Thinking to herself, Sakuya came to a decision. "Maybe not. I've been invited to a formal engagement in Tristania at the end of the week, a Royal Gala being held in commemoration of the victories at Newcastle and York. I promised Alicia I would make a little time for myself and I'm expected to attend with an escort. If you would like, it might be an opportunity to pick up where Rio cut us off."
    Regin's eyes widened, the slender Puca half bowed. "I would be honored, Sakuya-san!"
    Well, at least something good would come of this night. "Sakuya!" A short, sharp, and cold voice echoed at her back. A pity it couldn't last.
    Sakuya turned towards the voice, wondering whether she would manage to reign her temper in or simply deliver a hay-maker to the approaching Salamander. "Mortimer." She bit off.
    The Salamander Lord, possibly soon to be  former Salamander Lord had his own retinue in tow, his Guard Captain and two of his Knights close on his heels. For someone who had at best, just suffered a severe blow to his reputation, Mortimer looked remarkably in control of himself.
    It had taken the better part of five minutes to get everyone to quiet down enough for Mortimer to explain himself after Rio's revelation. In the end, people had listened, but nobody had quite believed him, nobody that wasn't a Salamander or a Spriggan anyways. Trying to hide an irrelevant connection, even for a day had done more for Rio's accusations than all the shouting the little idiot could do in a month.
    If she'd been feeling more generous, Sakuya would almost have admitted that she admired the way that Mortimer had managed to land on his feet after such an upset. Although the fact that he had brought this solely on himself didn't leave her with much sympathy. So much for refraining from damaging the reputation of the Salamanders.
    "Sakuya, I need a moment of your time, away from…"
    Anger won the battle with restraint as Sakuya snapped. "So now you want to speak to me in private." Finally a laugh, short and bitter. "A little late for that, wouldn't you say?"
    Sighing. "Sakuya, I need you to listen." Mortimer said slowly. "It is…"
    "No, I need you to listen, Mortimer." Sakuya came to stand in front of the Salamander Lord, facing him down. For the first time, she realized that he was actually shorter than her. "You  knew  about Rip Jack and decided to cover your own ass first. Now you have to own the consequences for yourself and your entire Faction." It was enough to get Mortimer to recoil in surprise. "Honestly  Mort ." Sakuya imitated Morgiana's favorite mode of address. "You might be some sort of tactical genius. But you've dug all of us in deep with this one and done a lot of damage that I don't know if I can  fix ."
    The Tristanian's weren't likely to be too happy with this revelation, and the reputation of the Lords among the Landed nobility was as important as having the support of their own people. Didn't Mortimer understand that?
    Mortimer seemed ready to make a retort, lips parting before closing again. He shook his head slowly. "I believe we should give time for tempers to cool." He said carefully.
    Damn right. Sakuya thought.
    "Tomorrow then." Mortimer glanced suspiciously at Regin. The soft faced Puca's features had taken on a harder set when Mortimer had approached and he was now as on edge as Sakuya. "Come early to the Public Works meeting." Then he added something very surprising. "Please."
    It was so out of character that Sakuya at first thought that she had misheard. "Is that a hint of humility?" Then again, he could only benefit from that. Still, if she could, Sakuya would have liked nothing more than to wash her hands of Mortimer and hope the next Lord of Gaddan would be a better fit for the job. But she couldn't do that, as much as she wanted to, because it would mean condemning the eight thousand one hundred and sixty nine other Salamanders as well. Sakuya sighed tiredly, "Fine, tomorrow morning."
    They stared each other down for a moment longer, Sakuya wondered just what was going on behind that poker face. Then, Ephi intervened, her Guard Captain stepping between them. "Lady Sakuya, you should hurry if you want to avoid the crowds, this way."
    One of Ephi's hands brushed against Mortimer's wrist and the Salamander let out a small hiss of surprise, pulling the hand back as if stung. Sakuya could see a thin trickle of blood originating between the thumb and index finger. Even though they were completely safe and surrounded by a cordon of the city Watch, Mortimer's Guards all reached for their swords, ready to draw at the slightest hint of a threat.
    "Ah, my apologies Lord Mortimer!" Ephi said quickly.
    Ephi tapped at a silver band on his middle finger. It was small enough to go almost unnoticed but would certainly hurt if Ephie decided to strike with a closed hand. Sakuya had never seen ring type item like it before, but then again, ALfheim had been known for its sheer variety of weapons and equipment so it could be any number of rare drops.
    "It's fine." Mortimer waved to his guards with his good hand while sucking at the small cut. "I'll be waiting tomorrow at your offices Sakuya-san."
    "I'll be dreading it." Sakuya answered, letting herself be ushered off along with Regin. The last she saw of Mortimer was the Salamander Lord conversing with his Guard Commander before they disappeared down the curve of the hall. Now if only Mortimer was the worst she had to contest with tonight, but that wasn't to be.
    "I thought you said there wouldn't be anyone waiting here?" Sakuya asked Ephi as they reached the unassuming door, the back entrance to the ground floor of Arrun Tower that was presently surrounded by a small crowd of Faeries of every Race. And at their head was Rio. She could say this much, his agility and evasion abilities were top notch to have gotten here first.
    Sakuya groaned quietly to herself. Just when she thought she would get a respite. "What is he doing here?" Regin asked her.
    "The interview didn't go his way." Even if he'd done a lot of damage, Rio had only managed to reassert that he was a complete jackass in front of the entire population of Arrun. Which meant he was probably looking to shore up his Loyal Cult of personality. She explained this briefly to Regin who nodded severely in understand. "He's bound to not pull any punches now. We can just avoid him if you like." Sakuya suggested.
    "No. It's fine, we'll just have to punch through and endure it, right?" The Puca smiled reassuringly. Well, if he was up for it, Sakuya certainly couldn't say now.
    "Sakuya-san, interesting coincidence to meet you here." Rio smiled without a hint of it reaching his eyes. Just like Sigurd, he wasn't a man who took well to realizing he'd been made a fool of. And just like Sigurd, in private, there was no point in showing him the courtesy he was wholly undeserving of.
    "Good evening Rio-san." Sakuya said, careful not to break her stride or betray her exhaustion. "Haven't you done enough damage to your reputation for one night?"
    "Only once I've brought you all out into the light where you belong." Rio replied. The jeers from his posse growing Louder as Sakuya brushed by.
    Sakuya's lips twitched. "You mean down in the mud at your level? I think I'd rather not."
    Rio laughed hollowly. "You see, that's what I love about talking to you like this. Down off the stage, people get to see what a bitch you really are."
    "Is that before or after they figure out that you're a monumental prick?" Sakuya asked. "Just what are you hoping to accomplish Rio-san? You do realize that even if you could anything to my reputation the alternative to me is  not you." In fact she was confident that half of Rio's small base of supporters hated him as much as they hated the standing Lords.
    "Maybe not your reputation." Rio agreed. "But I'd say I put a pretty good dent in Mortimer's tonight. Just a little preview while I dig up the rest of your dirty Laundry." Hoots of approval rose up from the small crowd. They were past them now, but Rio was still following, trying to get in his parting shots before Sakuya and her retinue took to the night sky. "Actually, it was touching the way you kept coming to his rescue, I mean considering how much you two don't seem to get along, too bad that attack dog doesn't have the brains to figure it out." Rio stopped as his cashew sized brain switched gears to another insult. "Or maybe I've got it wrong. Tell me, does he scratch that itch for you?"
    This was a new record, Sakuya thought, normally it would take Rio a couple of minutes to hit rock bottom. But right now he was appealing to the most antisocial and immature of his supporters, so she shouldn't have been surprised. What she would have done for a recording Crystal or even a Nav Pixie right now.
    "Rio-san, maybe that's enough for tonight." Regin said softly. "This has been a very long day for everyone, and…"
    "Oh, Regin, I didn't see you there." Rio put hands on hips as he bared down on the smaller Puca. "I'm actually impressed by how fast you sold out. Didn't even make it one day before she had you under her thumb."
    Regin paled, taking a step back from the more imposing Sylph. "I don't… I don't know what you're talking about." The Puca said, voice tense as he tried to keep his calm. Sakuya could see his fists balling up at his sides. She ordered her guards to a halt.
    "Eh, I was just thinking of Old Sigurd you see. After Sakuya beat him in the Elections she gave him a consolation prize as Leader of the Sylph Military. Interesting to see that now you're the one suckling her tits."
    Sakuya knew she could never admit it. For one thing, it would have ruined her image as the Serene Lady of the Sylphs, for another the resulting scene had taken hours to clear up and resulted in quite a bit of heated argument after the fact. But for all that, watching the small Puca's fist crashing into Rio's smug face had been the best thing she'd seen in weeks.

Standing quietly along the river front, where the drainage channels from the Noble District returned to the natural waterway, Lieutenant Agnes of Her Majesties Royal Musketeers, found herself contemplating her own faith.
    In private, Agnes would admit that she didn't think much of God or the Founder above. They'd forsaken her and everything that she loved a long time ago, and maybe she preferred it that way. It had stopped her from wasting time with prayers or false hope. It had made her turn to the strength within herself rather than leaning on the sympathy of others. And she was better off for it.
    But there were times, such as now, that some help from the heavens might have been appreciated.
    "That makes the the second in less than a week." Agnes grimaced as she watched the healers attending to the fallen Nobleman, pulling his body from the riverside and desperately trying to knit him back together, draw back the life that had so obviously and completely fled his body.
    Why they even bothered was beyond her comprehension, he was long past helping. But that was the way of most Nobles, so used to the powers of magic and wealth, they were unable or unwilling to accept that no amount of mage craft or money could fix some things.
    Agnes simply accepted and moved on. Her only concern was  why he was dead. The signet ring found on his person marked him as a member of the Royal Guards. Given the shortage of trustworthy people in the Crown's service, he had no doubt been entrusted with a mission at least as important as her own prior to his demise. But what that mission was, and how he had been carrying it out, was as much a secret to her as hers would have been to him.
    'Whatever it was, you must have been getting close for them to kill you like this.' She thought, allowing herself a hint of tender mercy.
    The Royal Guards were some of the few Nobles that she could respect alongside the Crown, their gallantry and pride in service marking them out from most of their decadent and corrupt breed. It was a quality she sought to emulate, though not for the same reasons. They served to secure their status, no more or less, she had her own goals.
    "L-Lieutenant." The voice sounded weak and shaken.
    "Natalia." Agnes turned to her subordinate, a dark haired woman, barely more than a girl, who had recently joined the Royal Musketeers.
    Natalia met her superior's eyes, face pale. The man dead on the ground had been a formidable triangle of water, now he was corpse no different from any other, killed in the middle of Tristania with nary a person the wiser and no sign of magic. To Natalia, a girl of common birth who had lived her life believing nobles were invincible, his killer must have seemed preternatural.
    The third daughter of a lettered Commoner, a clerk at the palace, she was yet to be familiarized with the brutality of battle. And although Agnes did not expect her subordinates to match her resolve and composure, breaking down at the sight of death was unacceptable. This would just have to serve as her induction. Brutal, but necessary to harden her so that she would not falter in combat.
    "Yes sir?" The girl stood, back straighter, her trembling slowly fading as she tried very hard not to look past Agnes at the body of Sir Heinrick.
    "Natalia, I want you to return to the Palace and report everything to our superiors." She nodded to the body that was now being laid out on a stretcher. "Tell them that I would like to know just what Sir Heinrick was investigating prior to his demise." Knowing who would have reason to kill him was bound to narrow the suspects.
    "Yes Sir." Natalia saluted and then frowned. "Sir?"
    "Speak." Agnes instructed, she had no patience for indecision. The members of the firearms Squadron couldn't afford hesitation.
    "Forgive my saying this." Natalia said timidly. "But I don't think the Lord Justice will honor an inquiry like that."
    "That is why you go past him and report directly to Sir Hammond of the Manticore Knights." Now there was a dependable Nobleman. The Manticore Captain cared little for distinctions like title, only the results mattered. And if Agnes could deliver on her present assignment, she was certain she would be allowed to tackle this next.
    "Yes Sir!" Natalia said more resolutely, turning to depart before Agnes called for her to stop once more.
    "Is there something else?" Natalia asked, adjusting the strap of the musket she carried hidden beneath her cloak. In the crowded streets of the Capital, nobody would mind the sight of a hooded hunchback trying to mask their deformity.
    Agnes chose her next words carefully. "Natalia, do not forget that an animal becomes most dangerous when it knows it is trapped. These murders are just proof that we are closing in on the heart of Reconquista's conspirators. Else they would never risk drawing attention like this." The Lieutenant of the Musketeers nodded confidently. "Make sure that everyone hears that, and knows to remain at their most vigilant."
    Her word's giving the girl new resolve, Natalia nodded once more in affirmation before pushing through the gathering onlookers and vanishing back onto the streets, intent on completing her assignment as instructed. Novice or not, Agnes had selected her and the other applicants carefully. Natalia knew her duty as well as any other soldier in service to the Crown. By the end of the night, the rest of the firearms squadron would be aware of what had happened and be placed on high alert.
    For that matter, she'd best warn the young Valliere and her Faerie escort. The danger should they be discovered, or even suspected, was becoming more certain with every moment.
    Without a word to the other Guards and Watchmen, Agnes set off into the night, pulling her cloak up to mask herself and quickly turning into a back alley. Mages might prefer flight or secret passages, but a good knowledge of the city streets often worked just as well and was a good deal leas conspicuous. Along her way, a few shady characters eyed her, appraising whether she was worth stopping before thinking better of it.
    It was the smile, feral, hateful. It would have frightened off an elf had one of the great enem been unlucky enough to see it. Despite this latest setback, despite the danger, Agnes had meant what she had told Natalia. This was a sign that their efforts were taking their toll. The conspirators had finally sensed that they were cornered and were acting rashly. All that mattered now was that Tristain be ready for whatever last gambit they had in mind.
    Agnes was eager to hear of it, to stop it. But most of all, she was eager to see the looks on the faces of the Nobles who thought they could play with the fate of Kingdoms to sate their own selfish whims. Slaughtering commoners like animals. No, even killing their fellow Noblemen!
    The look of surprise on Sir Heinrick's dead face flashed past her mind's eye, that look of bewildered shock as he realized he was dead, throat torn brutally open as if by a massive knife or the jaws of a cruel beast. She would make sure the Conspirators would wear that same look when she came for them.
   
    Louise was revolted by the man before her, his appearance, his bearing, the tasteless cologne. Her very first impression of de'Martou would have been disgust, even if she hadn't known of his treacherous dealings. This was Terrance de'Martou, a conspirator for the cause of the Reconquistadors? She'd seen the sketches and impressions of the man prepared for her by Agnes, but they didn't do him justice. The past days had led her to expect so very much more than this.
    "You. Serving girl!" The man grunted like a pig. "Didn't you hear me a moment ago? Are you perhaps deaf!"
    "I…" This man. "That is to say…" This man! Something clicked within her at that moment, a self consciousness that hadn't been there before. Terrance de'Martou was the very lowest form of scum, both in deed and in person. But it wasn't her right to ring his neck. Agnes, and Botan, both had much better claims to that honor. So she held her tongue, and her hands, and forced a smile that would have brought any decent man to his knees.
    "This way, my Master." She offered, remembering to add the sweet trill to the end that KoKo had suggested.
    Louise couldn't fail but notice the way that the normally mirthful evening attitude had grown subdued around her as the other clients noticed the arrival of the latest  'Guest' . That alone was worrying. Scarron liked to keep the shop a happy place and discouraged any sort of grudge among both the girls and the clientele. The fact that he had failed to suppress the obvious distaste for de'Martou did not bode well.
    Ignorant of the ire directed at him, de'Martou snorted. "That's more like it! And I heard old Scarron found himself a Faerie wench to work her wiles here as well." An exaggerated nod of the head was sent in the direction of KoKo who had just noticed events near the front of the shop. "This should be good. Tell her to come along as well."
    Like hell! Louise thought. If this… this pig! Thought that she would let him lay one hand on KoKo or herself… No, calm, remain calm, there was nothing he could do that she could not make his life hell for later. That thought was immensely cathartic as she held her gracious smile.
    The slick haired Nobleman walking beside the Tax Collector leaned down to whisper in his ear. "Mister de'Martou, I don't believe that is…"
    "Nonsense!" The corpulent man said with the wave of one fat hand. "I'll hardly miss a chance to see this. A Faerie in her proper place I'd say, none of this treating them like real Nobles, eh Janglers?"
    The taller Nobleman rubbed tiredly at the bridge of his nose. "I suppose it is so." He said with a note of distaste.
    "I am sorry, Master." Louise had to will herself with all of her might not to scream at the man. "But Miss KoKo is already fully occupied with her own guests. That is the rule of this establishment." Carefully taking up the hem of her skirt, she curtsied. "I'm afraid you'll have to make do with me tonight." And she'd do everything she could to keep them away from KoKo!
    Even before the indignant look from de'Martou had time to register, Louise felt a powerful hand closing on her arm. It was Scarron, arrived at last sans his normal smile. Instead, the proprietor of the Charming Faeries Inn had his lips pursed and his eyes set on de'Martou. "Oh, Mademoiselle!"
    "Just a moment of your time  Mein Petite Louise ." Scarron said genially for the sake of the guests before pulling her back from de'Martou, leaning close to whisper in her ear. It occurred to Louise that there might be another hurdle to observing de'Martou. What if Scarron decided to throw the man out! Thankfully, or unfortunately, the Inn Keeper quickly put her fears to rest.
    "Louise, I need you and KoKo to devote yourselves to this man for the rest of the night." Scarron said, voice imploring and eyes pleading. It seemed he was not above begging if need be.
    "Well that's okay," Louise said relieved, "I planned to… wait w-what?!" Had she just misheard?
    "Scarron?" de'Martou was attempting, badly, to listen in on the conversation being had between Scarron and Louise. "Is there a problem?"
    Turning quickly, Scarron smiled back. "Not at all Monsieur de'Martou, not at all! I'm just instructing our new girl in how you like to enjoy your evening." This seemed to placate de'Martou who looked Louise over in a way that made her skin crawl. She felt asi Scarron had some how betrayed her even though this was exactly what she'd thought she wanted wanted. "Gimi mein Petite! See these gentleman to their seats. Mister de'Martous favorite spot should be open I do believe."
    "Mister Scar… Mademoiselle." Louise whispered back. "It's fine, I don't mind doing it. But isn't Mister de'Martou a  'Guest?' she said with the added emphasis that implied a customer who was more trouble than they were worth.
    Scarron looked shame faced. "Listen closely Louise, Monsieur de'Martou is a Royal Tax Collector and must not be crossed. He could have this entire establishment shut down and my girls out on the street in under an hour."
    What! But the Tax Offices were held accountable directly to the Crown. A Tax Officer couldn't just do as they pleased without Crown permission… Except de'Martou had been doing just that, flaunting the law all the while feeding tax money into Reconquista's coffers. Men like him existed, and they brought shame on the title of 'Noble'.
    "Please Louise, I'll match your tips for the night if you and KoKo will just entertain him." Scarron held a hand to his chest, swearing before God and Founder.
    At least she didn't have to fake the exacerbated sigh, or the resigned shake of the head as she accepted. Hopefully such an unpleasant person would be less suspicious if she wasn't able to completely mask her distaste. After all, he must be used to it.
    "That's the guy?" KoKo asked, the Cait Syth coming up beside Louise.
    "That's him." Louise agreed.
    "Looks like a pig ready for roasting." The Cait's nostrils flared as she caught a whiff of his passing on the air. "And he smells like my trash bin on gardening day. You ready for this?"
    Louise gave a snorting laugh. What was that term that the Salamander Klein had used once? "I was born ready." Such a nonsensical turn of phrase, but it felt fitting. "What about you?"
    "I'll deal with it." KoKo assured her, accepting a bottle of wine from Jessica who had retrieved one of the shop's best vintages for their very special  'Guest' .
    "Good luck, both of you." Jessica said before retreating back to the bar to watch along with a noticeably un-Mademoiselle-like Scarron.
    Practice from the past days kicked in, Louise following at KoKo side, cradling a basket of fresh baked bread and a small cask of butter while KoKo presented the wine bottle to both Noblemen. The guards flanking the Table leaned a little closer as KoKo pored for de'Martou and the strange Nobleman with him.
    "Now, a little closer girl, no not you, the one with the ears!" de'Martou waved Louise aside so that he could get a better look at KoKo.
    Merely smiling, the Cait tilted her head. "How may I be of service, my Master?"
    de'Martou held a suspicious look for a moment, studying KoKo's smile, her figure, her ears and tail. Had he noticed the way that the smile was forced? Did he find it suspicious that a serving woman was so lithe and muscular? Then he broke into harsh laughter.
    "I think I rather see the appeal of the cat ones, Janglers. You know they say all of the Fae were commoners in their homeland, now thinking that they're our equals because they have a little magic to play with. These ones at least haven't forgotten that they're just one step above beasts." One pudgy hand snapped out like a frog's tongue, grabbing a roll out of the basket in Louise's hands and tearing into it. "Maybe once the Kingdom's regained its senses I shall keep one as a pet."
    KoKo's smile widened to show small, white, very sharp teeth.
    "Yes… A pet…" Janglers gave a heartless chuckle, eyes all the while remaining fixed on KoKo. At last, he shook his head, muttering something about 'Faerie whores' under his breath. "Once you're family has been properly returned to its rightful standing, of course."
    "Oh, I think there's every chance of that." de'Martou agreed, grabbing hold of Louise by the waist and pulling her into his lap. Through the rough fabric of his blouse, she could actually feel the hot flesh and sweat coating his arm. She wanted to retch up her lunch. De'Martou grabbed hold of the wine bottle, neglecting his glass, and held it high in the air. "To the line of de'Martou! May father and grandfather smile upon me!" None of the other patrons spared him a second glance, not that he noticed or cared. "Come, drink with me Janglers! Tonight we celebrate our shared good fortunes."
    Taking up his glass, de'Martou drank deeply, Janglers sipping at a more restrained pace. KoKo returned promptly with food, sausage links and lentil soup, and a second bottle of wine for when the first was exhausted before taking her place with admirable restraint on the opposite side of their  'Guest'. "Now then." de'Martou breathed out, the scent of alcohol heavy on his breath. "Eat up Janglers, and let us speak of tonight's business."
    As if set off by the words, KoKo began to nuzzle de'Martou's shoulder, acting every bit the affection starved kitten. What had gotten into her? Oh right! Louise caught herself listening intently, and making no effort to hide it. That wouldn't do at all, especially seeing as Janglers, the more suspicious of the two men and no doubt the person they ought pay the most attention to, was certainly the most on guard. So as much as she hated it, Louise followed KoKo's example, smiling and tending to de'Martou's every need.
    But it was still hard to think that way as she was breathed on by rancid breath, and as KoKo strangled a small hiss, de'Martou stroking the base of her tail roughly with his free hand. The Cait's eyes had dilated, for a moment, fangs had been barred. A silent plea had been all that Louise could offer to return KoKo to her senses. Thankfully, it had worked, the Cait Syth enduring the humiliation until de'Martou grew bored.
    Every act from poring his wine to wiping food from his cheek felt like a betrayal of the dignity Luise had been raised to uphold, but she reminded herself that KoKo was bearing this along side her, and they were both doing it for a very good reason. Their revenge would be seeing de'Martou and his fellow conspirators hauled off to the gallows, and the stolen Pixies safe once more. That thought bolster her flagging resolve as at last they reached what they had been waiting for.
    "Preparations are almost completed." Janglers said as he buttered a piece of bread, eating in small bites until the roll vanished without even a crumb to mark its passing. "Again, I would like to thank you for the use of your family home. The quality of your cellars are truly astounding."
    "Yes, you can thank grandfather for that." de'Martou answered back, preening over the achievements of his betters as if they somehow increased his own worth. "After Sew was razed, plenty of the old foundations and channels were left. Quite the catacombs I should say, and ah, perfect for my side business."
    "As well as ours." Janglers agreed, a sausage next being cut into neat pieces and vanishing into his mouth in a steady rhythm, he hardly even seemed to chew as the food before him began to diminish, vanishing at a startling rate. At the same time, the level of his wine glass barely fell by a thumb span. "In any case, it has proven the perfect place for our business. Sadly, things will be concluding themselves at the end of this week. For better or worse I should think."
    "For better we should hope!" de'Martou grunted.
    Janglers fixed de'Martou with a thin lipped look, eyes hooded, he regarded de'Martou's plate until the fat Nobleman realized what it was that he wanted. He scowled and then reluctantly surrendered what was left of his own meal to be quickly and neatly devoured by the rail thin Noble.
    "Monsieur de'Martou, let me assure that in this sort business, things are bound to go wrong. We must simply play as the coins fall." Watching him from the corner of her eye, Louise shivered as she realized what Jangler's reminded her of. A cold blooded lizard, not like Dragons or Salamanders, but like the small ones from the borders of the desert, all skin and bones and start and stop motion, and a lifeless look in his eye as if wondering whether de'Martou might make a good meal in and of himself.
    'This business? What business?!' Louise wanted to shout her questions to the room. They'd gone to all of this trouble, and now they were going to be foiled because of a choice of words?! They should just put the screws to…
    "I simply wish I knew what game that was. Shipping around your supplies and people hasn't been cheap you know. The expense has used up almost all of your up front payment." de'Martou grumbled, waving a hand as Janglers made to speak. "I understand, deniability, that sort of thing, a condition for my reward is it not."
    "You are as… Discreet as promised." Janglers commended, watching with insincere eyes. "And yes, your reward will be pending at the conclusion of this week. With any luck, the weakness within our fair Kindgom will be purged, and it will be thanks to men such as you who have remained true to our ideals as Tristain's rightful Elite." Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, the gaunt mage wiped his lips as if there was anything there to wipe. He'd barely shed a crumb or morsel while obliterating everything left on the plates in front of them. There is but one matter remaining. It is small, but essential, have you seen to it?"
    de'Martou snorted derisively, as if the question was beneath him. Reaching into his cloak, he withdrew a scrap of paper embossed with a wax seal. Louise tried to get a good look at it, but failed before it vanished beneath Jangler's hand. "This is it?"
    "Yes, yes, that's it!" de'Martou grumbled. "And you'd be surprised the lean I had to put on the whelp that he gave in at all." Leaning one cheek against his fist, the Tax Collector shrugged. "They can be that sort, naturally."
    Jangler's eyes narrowed. "Will he be a problem? I can have him dealt with… discretely."
    "Hardly necessary. His loyalties were misplaced, but he knows discretion well enough." de'Martou chuckled, his chins jiggling with the motion. "Besides, I rather think I'll have use of him when I'm properly titled."
    "As you wish." The malice emanating from Jangler's posture disappeared as swiftly as it had come. "Then, if that is all, I really must take my leave. We shall need to meet again to make last arrangements. As I said, I cannot be sure how your services can be put to best use until the night of…"
    'The night of what?!'
    "Pshaw! There's always time for a little enjoyment, wouldn't you say." de'Martou's roaming hands had risen to chest level, and for the first time in her life, Louise was grateful for her personal deficiencies. Instead she had to contend with the discomfort of a meaty hand squashing against her chest. "You, girl!" He bellowed to Gimi who had been making her best effort to cross the room without drawing his attention. "The first strawberries are in, aren't they? Bring a bowl and a side of cream." Fearfully, Gimi hurried to the task.
    "See, why don't you stay a while longer? The wild berries are perhaps the best that can be had," de'Martou blew a kiss from his corpulent lips, "Anywhere."
    To his credit, Jangler's appeared as sickened by the gesture as Louise felt. Rising from his seat, the man gave a small bow. "I'm very sorry, perhaps another time, upon the success of our mutual venture perhaps. In the meantime please remain weary. Weak elements within our own Kingdom have caught scent of our plans. They will fail of course, but do not hesitate to report anything suspicious." An eye darted to KoKo for a moment, Louise swore it was only the one eye. "Anything at all."
    "Yes, yes. You worry too much. I haven't made it this far without a lick of sense, now have I?" de'Martou clapped his hands as Gimli set his desert before him, complete with a tray of whipped cream.
    In a swift, reptilian motion, Jangler snapped out, grabbing the first strawberry and popping it into his mouth. "No. I suppose not. Good evening Monsieur de'Martou."
    With his guest gone, de'Martou became no more bearable, continuing to behave himself in a slovenly fashion well into the night. His comments to both Louise and KoKo grew brasher and more insulting. The things he'd said, that he'd promised to do… In the end, it was de'Martou's guards that saved them, hauling their inebriated employer from the shop with the last of the night's customer.
    As the other guests departed, each placed a coin in front of an exhausted Louise and trembling KoKo.
    When at last they were gone, leaving only the Inn staff, Louise breathed a sigh of relief, sagging down into a chair that was hastily offered by Jessica and a fervently apologetic Scarron. "You carried yourself magnificently Louise. Thank you, thank you so much for all of this!" The huge inn keeper squeezed her hands tightly. "I promise, double, no triple your tips for that!"
    A heavier 'thud' came from the chair opposite Louise and she looked over worried. "Are you alright KoKo?" She felt, no knew, that it had bee harder on the Cait Woman.
    "I'm fine, Louise-chan." KoKo said, pawing at the small satchel that she normally kept in a cupboard beneath the front counter. Louise knew it normally held KoKo's knife, and also some Faerie potions. 'Just in case', KoKo had said. Louise didn't think she ever wanted to know in case of what. But at the moment she had retrieved something far more mundane, a notebook, and a piece of pencil.
    "We're all sorry that you were put through that, Louise, Miss KoKo!" Gimi said. "We should have warned you before now, but de'Martou is… he's the one person Mademoiselle has to treat courteously no matter what. That's Mademoiselle tries so hard with everyone else."
    A hand rested on Louise's shoulder, it was Jessica this time, smiling as if to assure her that it was over, and that everything was going to be okay. "I'm sorry you had to find out first hand. But, I'm really glad you didn't fly off the handle Louise. You were a real 'Charming Faerie' tonight. And naturally Miss KoKo as well."
    "Three cheers for our brave Faeries!" Scarron declared to the gathered girls. His request matched and exceeded.
    "You did something for all of us tonight." Jessica added. "So now its our turn." The leftovers from the night's cooking were brought out and arranged on the table. Not just a few sausage and some stale bread. Rolls fresh from the oven, and even strawberries and cream saved just for them. "Just put your feet up for now and try to relax. We'll handle everything else."
    A dozen heads nodded in agreement. The cleaning would be done tonight without Louise and KoKo's help. Instead, they were to savor their just rewards for a battle hard fought with a 'Guest' and also with themselves.
    If only Louise could feel proud of that. But it was a shameful victory. Nobody should have to swallow their dignity like that just to get by. But the girls here at the Inn did so every time that de'Martou came here. Each one willing to make the sacrifice so that the others wouldn't have to. And from what Louise gathered from Jessica's muttering, she and KoKo had been lucky. Tonight, de'Martou had gotten too drunk to get very far in his advances. It wasn't always that way.
    "You mean…" Louise whispered back as Jessica confirmed. "Just… Just don't talk about it… "
    She would have asked why the girls didn't quit if that was to be their fate. But she already knew the answer. Most of the girls here were like Louise was  supposed  to be. Daughters who couldn't be married off, or who simply couldn't be supported. Scarron was a kind man, and he did everything he could to protect them, but he was no mage, and no Noble. They simply didn't have any place else to go.
    Worse. Louise had known that there were Nobles that abused their status. But not like this. Terrance de'Martou was nothing, a speck at the very bottom rung of the nobility. And yet he could do as he was pleased with the girls here. Because even the lowliest Noble stood above the highest commoner.
    The big wrongs argued back and forth in the High Courts seemed so petty compared to the small torments that went on in the shadow of the Capital itself. Had it always been this rotten?
    She wished she could tell Jessica, and Gimi, and the other girls that everything would be alright and that soon, de'Martou would never be able to do anything to them again. She wished she could take Scarron aside and thank him for everything. And she would, as soon as this was over, she swore that she would. But first that meant bringing de'Martou to justice by exposing his masters. The plot that had been mentioned was a start, but they had nothing, not even…
    "Louise."
    "Please, not right now." Louise didn't even notice that it was KoKo who had spoken until she called to her again.
    "Oh, what is…" Louise looked across the table to the open notebook, and to KoKo's hastily scribed drawing. At first she couldn't quite tell what it was supposed to be. A stylized and overlapped A and B placed back to back, but the rough circle drawn around the perimeter was clue enough. "The letter." She breathed.
    "The embossed seal on the wax." KoKo said. "I got a good look at it. And I bet stuff like that is important. Right?"
    Brown and Gold eyes met, and together, the Mage and the Faerie shared a smile.