The Warrior and The Wren, No. 40

Chronicle 40

Zas stood in front of the mirror.

He stared at himself.

Then at the tie hanging around his neck.

Then at himself again.

He sighed.

"This is unnecessary."

Behind him, Joanna was applying the finishing touches to her makeup.

"You've said that four times."

"It remains true."

"Put your tie on."

Zas reluctantly began tying it.

"I wore this thing to court."

"Yes."

"Court required it."

"Dinner requires it."

"Dinner does not require a suit."

"This dinner does."

Zas frowned at her reflection in the mirror.

"Why?"

Joanna turned around.

"Because you're having dinner with my boss."

"I have eaten with important people before."

"Did you wear a suit?"

"No."

"Well, you're wearing one tonight."

Zas pulled the knot upward.

Too tight.

He immediately loosened it.

"I don't understand why clothing must become uncomfortable whenever people decide something is important."

Joanna smiled.

"That's basically civilization."

Zas grumbled something under his breath.

Joanna went back to the mirror.

She had been looking forward to the dinner.

Not necessarily because Vince McGeady was involved. Dinner with Vince could mean practically anything. She'd attended enough WFE functions to know that Vince could turn a perfectly ordinary meal into a business meeting, a creative pitch, a wrestling argument, a negotiation or an impromptu audition without warning.

Sometimes all five.

…but she was excited about bringing Zas.

…and the others.

Especially because this time Zas wasn't being dragged into a courtroom, a diplomatic crisis or somebody else's civil war.

He was just having dinner.

Granted...

Dinner with Vince.

…but still.

Dinner.

The adjoining door opened.

Arel-Sin walked in.

Joanna turned.

Her eyes widened.

"Oh by Jove."

Arel-Sin stood proudly in his suit.

Jacket.

Tie.

Dress shoes.

Everything carefully arranged.

…and over the entire ensemble-

His garbage-bag poncho.

Zas stared.

Joanna stared.

Arel-Sin smiled.

"I am ready."

Joanna pointed at him.

"No."

Arel-Sin's smile disappeared.

"What?"

"Take that off."

"…but-"

"No."

"I need it."

"We are going to dinner."

"Exactly."

Joanna walked toward him.

"You are not wearing a garbage bag to dinner with Vince McGeady."

"It protects my suit."

"From what?"

"Food."

Zas nodded.

"That is reasonable."

Joanna spun toward him.

"You stay out of this."

Zas raised his hands.

Arel-Sin clutched the poncho.

"I got food on my suit last time."

"That was because you were eating in a courtroom."

"Food behaves the same way everywhere."

Joanna closed her eyes.

There was no immediate answer to that.

Arel-Sin sensed victory.

"So I should-"

"No."

Victory disappeared.

Joanna pointed toward his trousers.

"Fold it up and put it in your pocket."

Arel-Sin considered the compromise.

"Can I put it on when the food comes?"

"No."

"What if it's messy?"

"No."

"What if there's sauce?"

"No."

"What if-"

"Arel-Sin."

He sighed.

"Fine."

He removed the poncho.

Then carefully folded it.

Once.

Twice.

Again.

…and again.

Joanna watched with growing fascination as the infamous garbage bag became a small black square.

Arel-Sin shoved it into his pocket.

It immediately produced a large bulge.

Joanna stared at it.

Then at him.

"Good enough."

Arel-Sin smiled.

Zas adjusted his jacket.

"Can I put one in my pocket?"

"No."

"I spill things too."

"No."

Zas sighed.

"This dinner already has too many rules."

Joanna laughed.

She walked over and straightened his tie.

Zas endured this with the expression of a man undergoing a minor medical procedure.

"I still don't understand why I'm going."

Joanna stopped.

"Because I want you there."

"Yes, but why?"

Joanna stared.

Zas realized that had come out wrong.

"I mean-"

"I know what you mean."

She finished adjusting the tie.

"You don't have to wrestle."

"I don't want to wrestle."

"I know."

"I have no interest in becoming a wrestler."

"I know."

"I don't want Vince offering me a contract."

"Then don't sign one."

"I don't want him trying to convince me."

"Then tell him no."

"I already have a job."

"You have about six jobs."

Zas frowned.

"I do not."

Joanna started counting on her fingers.

"Warrior."

"That's one."

"Diplomat."

"Two."

"Father."

"That is not a job."

"It absolutely is."

Zas considered that.

"Fine."

"Farmer."

"I help with the farming."

"Trainer."

"I help with training."

Joanna smiled.

"See?"

Zas grumbled.

"I have enough responsibilities."

"Exactly."

Joanna put both hands against his chest.

"So don't become a wrestler."

"Then why does Vince want me there?"

"Because you're important to me."

That finally quieted him.

Joanna smiled.

"It's support."

"For me."

She poked him gently in the chest.

"For Azamat."

Zas looked toward the door.

Azamat was getting ready in another room with the other Blue Shield men.

"Azamat does not need my support to eat dinner."

"No."

Joanna grinned.

"…but he might need your support when he asks Vince for a job."

Zas' eyes narrowed.

"He is going to do that?"

"Oh, come on."

"He said this?"

"He doesn't have to."

Joanna laughed.

"Azamat has been obsessed with wrestling since we met him. He's trained with us. He's been around the WFE. He's met wrestlers. He's watched the shows."

She raised an eyebrow.

"You really think he's going to sit across from Vince McGeady for an entire dinner and never bring up wrestling?"

Zas thought about it.

"No."

"Exactly."

"He will probably ask within five minutes."

"Three."

"Two."

Joanna laughed.

"Okay, maybe two."

Zas shook his head.

"I don't know if Azamat should become a wrestler."

"That's between Azamat and Vince."

"…and The Elder."

"Okay. Azamat, Vince and The Elder."

"…and whoever handles his responsibilities while he is away."

Joanna sighed.

"Fine. The entire tribe can hold a meeting."

Zas nodded.

"That would probably happen."

Joanna stared at him.

She couldn't tell whether he was joking.

Probably not.

Arel-Sin was examining himself in the mirror.

He adjusted his tie.

Then adjusted it again.

Joanna looked at him.

"You're going to wear that suit every day now, aren't you?"

"If possible."

Zas groaned.

"Do not encourage him."

"I didn't!"

"He already asks me when he can wear it."

"Because suits are dignified."

Arel-Sin straightened his jacket.

Zas looked at Joanna.

"You created this."

"I bought him a suit."

"You created this."

Joanna smiled proudly.

"You're welcome."

Zas returned to his own reflection.

Suit.

Tie.

Dress shoes.

He tugged at his collar.

"I would rather go to Stego Burgers."

Joanna gasped.

"No."

Zas looked at her.

"No?"

"No."

She walked toward him with the seriousness of someone correcting a grave misunderstanding.

"You're having dinner with Vince McGeady."

"Yes."

"Do you understand what that means?"

"No."

"It means you're not getting Stego Burgers."

"I like Stego Burgers."

"So do I."

Joanna grabbed her purse.

"…but Vince has money."

"So?"

"So Vince doesn't take people out and say, 'Let's get a couple burgers.'"

Zas shrugged.

"Why not?"

"Because Vince."

That apparently constituted an explanation.

Zas waited for more.

None came.

Joanna continued.

"You're probably going to have some of the best food you've ever eaten."

Zas looked skeptical.

"I have eaten very good food."

"I'm sure you have."

"I have travelled."

"I know."

"I have attended feasts."

"I know."

"I have eaten meals prepared for tribal celebrations."

Joanna nodded.

"…and tonight you're eating with a billionaire wrestling promoter who likes showing off."

Zas stopped.

That...

Was somewhat persuasive.

Joanna saw it.

"Got you."

"You did not."

"You hesitated."

"I was thinking."

"About the food."

"No."

Arel-Sin looked toward his father.

"I was thinking about the food."

Joanna pointed at him.

"See?"

Zas looked toward his son.

"You are not helping."

Arel-Sin smiled.

Joanna picked up her phone.

"Besides, Elara and Eldred are coming."

Zas sighed.

"Yes."

"…and the guys."

"Yes."

"…and me."

"Obviously."

"…and we're all together."

She smiled.

"Nobody's asking you to fight anybody."

"Hopefully."

"Nobody's putting you on trial."

"Hopefully."

"Nobody's asking you to rescue a kingdom."

Zas looked at her.

Joanna paused.

"Okay."

She thought about Elara.

"…and Vince owning half the physical remains of Aetheria."

Zas continued staring.

"Maybe somebody's going to ask you to help with a kingdom."

"Joanna."

"…but you don't have to fix it!"

Zas groaned.

Joanna laughed and wrapped her arms around him.

"Come on."

She kissed him.

"It's dinner."

Zas looked down at her.

"Just dinner?"

Joanna smiled.

"With Vince."

Zas's expression fell.

"That qualification worries me."

"It should."

Arel-Sin headed toward the door.

"Can we go now?"

Joanna looked at him.

"Why are you so excited?"

Arel-Sin straightened his jacket again.

"I get to wear my suit."

Of course.

Joanna smiled.

Zas shook his head.

Then he looked at himself one final time.

He adjusted his jacket.

Straightened his tie.

…and sighed.

"Fine."

Joanna grinned.

"Fine what?"

"I will go."

"You were always going."

"I know."

"…and you'll enjoy yourself."

"Possibly."

"…and you'll eat incredible food."

"Possibly."

"…and you'll support me."

Zas looked at her.

That one didn't require consideration.

"Always."

Joanna's teasing expression softened.

She kissed him again.

"Then that's why you're going."

Zas nodded.

That answer...

He could accept.

He headed toward the door with her.

Then stopped.

Looked back at Arel-Sin.

"Do you have another garbage bag?"

Joanna threw her hands into the air.

"Zas!"

The restaurant made Zas stop complaining.

Not permanently.

Joanna wasn't prepared to believe in miracles.

…but for several seconds after walking through the entrance, Zas didn't say anything at all.

Neither did anyone else.

The place was enormous.

Not enormous in the way of a banquet hall, where size was achieved simply by putting a roof over as much empty space as possible.

This place had been built to impress.

The entrance opened into a vast atrium beneath a domed ceiling. Columns rose around the room, decorated with carvings and gold detailing. A broad staircase swept upward toward a second level of private dining rooms, while the main floor stretched beyond them into several separate dining areas.

There were fountains.

Actual fountains.

Arel-Sin stared upward.

Phoebe stared at the fountains.

Armintie stared at everything.

Semin stared at the people.

Ravi stared at the ceiling.

Rahim looked around with the quiet expression of a man trying very hard not to look as impressed as he actually was.

Azamat didn't bother trying.

"Whoa."

Joanna smiled.

"Told you."

Zas looked toward her.

"You said the food would be good."

"I also said Vince doesn't go to Stego Burgers."

Zas looked around again.

"I understand the distinction now."

Joanna grinned.

"Thank you."

They weren't the first to arrive.

Elara and Eldred stood near the reception desk with two Peace Officers positioned discreetly behind them.

Elara smiled when she saw everyone.

"Hello!"

Joanna hugged her. Elara then hugged Zas.

Eldred greeted Zas and Joanna.

Then Elara looked around the restaurant again.

"This place is ridiculous."

Eldred raised an eyebrow.

"You grew up in a palace."

"Not like this."

Elara looked upward.

The old Aetherian Royal Palace had once been magnificent.

By the end of Havin's reign, magnificent required imagination.

Years of neglect had taken their toll. Parts of the building had deteriorated badly even before the Fall of Aetheris and subsequent looting did considerably worse. Havin had cared greatly about possessing the Palace.

Maintaining it had apparently ranked somewhere below maintaining himself.

Elara pointed toward the ceiling.

"I don't think our Palace ever looked this good."

Eldred smiled.

"Maybe when it was new."

"I wasn't alive then."

"Neither was I."

"Exactly."

Nearby, Azamat had discovered something considerably more interesting than the architecture.

The hostess.

She was young, impeccably dressed and maintaining the carefully pleasant expression of someone who had been greeting wealthy people all evening.

Azamat leaned casually against the reception desk.

"Do you work here every night?"

The hostess smiled.

"Most nights."

"Then perhaps I should come here more often."

"Perhaps."

"I am Azamat."

"I heard."

"You did?"

"Your friends have been saying your name."

Azamat glanced back.

Joanna was watching him.

She shook her head.

Azamat ignored her.

He looked back toward the hostess.

"I am from Daral Lake."

"That's very nice."

"You should visit."

"Maybe someday."

Azamat smiled.

The hostess smiled back.

She did find him amusing.

Very amusing, actually.

He was charming in a strange, direct way.

He was also approximately the tenth man who had tried flirting with her that evening.

It wasn't even eight o'clock.

Azamat pointed toward himself.

"I am also a warrior."

"Really?"

"…and I handle livestock."

The hostess paused.

That one was new.

"…and now I am learning wrestling."

"That's quite a résumé."

Azamat smiled proudly.

"I have many talents."

Rahim appeared beside him.

"None of which involve leaving women alone."

Azamat frowned.

"I am talking."

"Yes."

"She likes talking to me."

The hostess maintained her smile.

Rahim looked toward her.

"Does she?"

The hostess was far too professional to answer that question.

Azamat straightened his blazer.

Dark green.

Burgundy trousers.

He smiled at the hostess again.

"If you finish before I do-"

"Azamat."

Zas.

Azamat looked back.

Zas pointed away from the desk.

Azamat sighed.

"Fine."

He turned toward the hostess.

"I will return."

"I'm sure."

Azamat walked away.

The hostess watched him go.

She actually laughed.

Then returned to her reservation screen.

Joanna leaned toward Azamat.

"You know she gets hit on all night, right?"

"Not by me."

"That is technically true."

Before Azamat could defend himself further, several people near the entrance suddenly turned.

Something had changed.

Zas noticed first.

People were looking toward the doors.

Then phones started coming out.

Arel-Sin looked around.

"What is happening?"

Joanna knew.

"Oh."

The doors opened.

Vince McGeady had arrived.

…and somehow...

He had made entering a restaurant look like entering an arena.

Several members of his entourage came through first. Aiden McGeady was among them, along with Logan Creed and Triple X. A couple of assistants followed. Restaurant management had appeared from somewhere.

Then Vince walked in.

Tailored suit.

Perfectly arranged hair.

A smile that suggested the entire restaurant had been constructed specifically because somebody knew he would eventually eat there.

People recognized him.

A few called his name.

Vince waved.

Someone approached for a photograph.

Vince stopped.

Smiled.

Photo.

Another person shook his hand.

Vince shook it enthusiastically.

Then continued forward while restaurant staff converged around him.

Elara watched.

She looked down at herself.

Then at Vince.

Then at the two Peace Officers accompanying her.

Then back at Vince.

Eldred leaned toward her.

"He's entering like a King."

Elara frowned.

"I'm the Queen."

"I know."

"Nobody did that when I came in."

"I know."

Elara watched Vince greet the restaurant manager as though he were welcoming the manager into Vince's own home.

Eldred whispered-

"When do we get to enter like that?"

Elara looked at him.

Then stuck her tongue out.

Eldred laughed.

Vince finally spotted Joanna.

His face lit up.

"There she is!"

Joanna smiled.

"Hi, Vince."

Vince walked straight toward her and gave her a hug.

"Sugar Cane!"

"Joanna tonight."

"You're always Sugar Cane to me."

Joanna rolled her eyes.

"Of course I am."

Vince stepped back.

Then he saw Zas.

His eyes widened.

"Oh."

Zas stared at him.

Vince looked at Joanna.

"That's him?"

"That's him."

Vince approached.

"Zasaramel."

"Zas."

"Zas!"

Vince extended his hand.

Zas shook it.

"Vince McGeady."

"I know."

Vince laughed.

"I like him already."

Zas wasn't entirely certain what he'd done.

Vince stepped back and examined him.

Not subtly.

Shoulders.

Chest.

Arms.

Height.

Build.

Zas became increasingly uncomfortable.

"What?"

Vince shook his head.

"Nothing."

Another look.

"My word."

Joanna knew exactly what was happening.

"Vince."

"What?"

"Stop scouting my boyfriend."

"I'm not scouting him."

"You are absolutely scouting him."

Vince looked offended.

"I am meeting him."

"You looked at his shoulders before you looked at his face."

Vince ignored that.

He turned toward the others.

"…and these are the Blue Shield?"

Zas nodded.

"Azamat."

Azamat stepped forward.

"Rahim."

Rahim nodded.

"Ravi."

A polite greeting.

"Semin."

Semin gave Vince a brief nod.

Vince looked across them.

Then looked toward Triple X.

Triple X already knew what was coming.

Vince shook his head in amazement.

"Pictures don't do you guys justice."

Rahim raised an eyebrow.

Vince continued.

"You are some impressive physical specimens."

Zas sighed.

Joanna laughed.

"I told you."

"You told me they were warriors."

"They are."

"I know, but look at them!"

Vince gestured enthusiastically.

Semin looked toward Ravi.

Ravi shrugged.

Vince walked down the line as though somebody had just delivered him an unexpected shipment of heavyweight prospects.

Then Azamat stepped forward.

"When do I challenge for the Imperial Crown?"

Silence.

Joanna closed her eyes.

Zas looked toward her.

"Two minutes?"

Joanna checked an imaginary watch.

"Less."

Vince stared at Azamat.

Azamat stared back.

Completely serious.

Then Vince smiled.

Slowly.

He put one hand on Azamat's shoulder.

"I like you."

Azamat smiled.

"When?"

Vince laughed.

"We'll talk."

"When?"

"We'll talk."

"Tonight?"

Vince patted his shoulder.

"We'll talk."

Azamat looked toward Joanna.

She whispered-

"That's Vince-language."

"What does it mean?"

"It means we'll talk."

Azamat frowned.

That hadn't helped at all.

Vince continued greeting everyone.

Phoebe.

Armintie.

Arel-Sin.

Vince stopped when he reached Arel-Sin.

He looked at the suit.

"Looking sharp."

Arel-Sin beamed.

"Thank you."

Joanna immediately pointed toward his pocket.

"Don't ask."

Vince looked at the bulging pocket.

"What is-"

"Don't."

Vince shrugged.

Then his eyes moved beyond them.

Elara.

Eldred.

He paused.

Elara smiled politely.

"Hello."

Vince stared.

He knew that face.

He'd seen it on television.

News.

Social media.

The court coverage.

The new Queen of Aetheria.

Vince looked toward Joanna.

Then back toward Elara.

Then toward Joanna again.

"Why is the Queen of Aetheria here?"

Joanna smiled.

"They're with me."

Vince stared.

Elara raised her hand slightly.

"Hi."

Eldred did the same.

"Hello."

Vince's mind immediately went somewhere else.

Palace.

Crown.

Sceptre.

Horses.

Government buildings.

Vehicles.

Military equipment.

Guns.

A staggering collection of things King Havin had inexplicably decided Vince McGeady should inherit.

Or might inherit.

Depending upon what survived Havin's debts.

…and standing directly in front of him was Havin's daughter.

The Queen.

Vince could guess why she might want to talk to him.

His smile never changed.

"You're with Joanna?"

Elara nodded.

"If that's all right."

Vince looked at Joanna.

Joanna smiled sweetly.

Vince knew that smile.

He was being ambushed.

Politely.

At dinner.

Fine.

He could handle that.

"Of course!"

Elara smiled.

"Thank you."

Vince turned toward the hostess.

"We need two more seats."

The hostess looked at the reservation.

Then at the enormous party.

"I'm sorry, Mr. McGeady, but your private table was arranged for-"

Vince reached into his jacket.

The hostess stopped.

Vince produced a hundred-dollar bill.

He held it between two fingers.

"We need two more seats."

The hostess looked at the bill.

Then at Vince.

Then at the reservation.

A pause.

"Two more seats."

Vince smiled.

"Wonderful."

He handed her the bill.

"Thank you."

The hostess accepted it.

Then Vince leaned in, kissed the side of her head and, with casual theatricality, slipped the folded bill into her cleavage at the top of her dress.

The hostess blinked.

Joanna blinked.

Zas stared.

Elara stared.

Eldred stared.

Azamat stared longest of all.

Vince was already walking away.

"Come on!"

He gestured grandly toward everyone.

"I'm starving."

His entourage followed.

Triple X passed Joanna.

Joanna looked at him.

Triple X shrugged.

What could he possibly say?

This was Vince.

Elara leaned toward Eldred.

"Did he just-"

"Yes."

"Okay."

Azamat was still staring toward the hostess.

Rahim grabbed his arm.

"No."

"I did not say anything."

"You were going to."

"I was thinking."

"Think while walking."

Rahim pulled him along.

The hostess waited until the entire group had passed.

Then she looked down.

Reached into her dress.

Retrieved the hundred-dollar bill.

Unfolded it.

Real.

She smiled.

Shook her head.

Then tucked it safely away.

Ten men had flirted with her tonight.

Only one had tipped a hundred dollars before even sitting down.

…and somehow...

It wasn't Azamat.

The table was not ready.

Technically, the table existed.

The problem was that it had existed for a specific number of people.

Elara and Eldred had changed that number.

Two restaurant employees hurriedly carried another chair toward one end while a third tried to determine where another chair could be inserted without forcing everyone else into somebody's lap.

Vince watched.

"Just put it there."

The manager looked.

"Mr. McGeady, that may restrict the service aisle."

Vince pointed somewhere else.

"There."

"That would block access to the adjoining table."

Vince frowned.

He looked around.

Then pointed again.

"There."

The manager considered it.

"That works."

Vince smiled.

"See?"

The manager wisely didn't respond.

Eventually...

The chairs were arranged.

Everyone began taking their seats.

Zas sat beside Joanna.

Phoebe and Armintie immediately claimed places together.

Arel-Sin carefully sat down, making certain his jacket didn't bunch beneath him.

Elara sat beside Eldred.

The Blue Shield distributed themselves around the remaining spaces.

Azamat pulled out his chair.

Sat.

Looked across the table.

…and froze.

Logan Creed.

Directly opposite him.

The Logan Creed.

The WFE's premier male superstar.

The standard-bearer of Combat Arts.

One of the biggest wrestlers in the world.

Azamat stared.

Logan smiled politely.

"Hey."

Azamat said nothing.

He narrowed his eyes.

Not intentionally.

At least...

Not entirely intentionally.

He'd watched Logan Creed.

Studied him.

Watched his matches.

Watched him hold the Imperial Crown.

Watched him beat men Azamat believed he could beat.

…and now...

There he was.

Across the table.

Azamat's inner wrestling fan screamed.

Azamat's outer warrior responded differently.

His shoulders squared.

His eyes narrowed further.

His expression became deadly serious.

The message was unmistakable.

I'm coming for you.

Logan's smile slowly disappeared.

He looked at Azamat.

Azamat looked at him.

Logan glanced toward Triple X.

Triple X was talking to Aiden.

Logan looked back.

Azamat was still staring.

Logan finally leaned slightly toward Vince.

"What's his deal?"

Vince looked.

Saw Azamat.

Saw Logan.

Then smiled.

"I like it."

"That doesn't answer my question."

Vince patted Logan's shoulder.

"Don't worry about it."

Logan looked back across the table.

Azamat remained locked on him.

"...Okay."

Azamat finally looked away.

Barely.

Logan had absolutely no idea what he'd done to this man.

—

Arel-Sin reached into his pocket.

Joanna noticed immediately.

"No."

Arel-Sin ignored her.

He pulled out the carefully folded black square.

Unfolded it.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Then pulled the garbage bag over himself.

Phoebe laughed.

Armintie covered her mouth.

Joanna stared.

"Arel-Sin."

"What?"

"I told you not to wear that."

"You said to put it in my pocket."

"I meant instead of wearing it."

"The food is coming."

"It isn't even ordered yet!"

"Preparation is important."

Zas nodded.

"Correct."

Joanna looked at him.

"Stop helping."

Arel-Sin adjusted the poncho until it covered the front of his suit.

He looked pleased.

One of the restaurant managers didn't.

The manager had been supervising the final adjustments to the table.

He stopped.

Stared.

Arel-Sin smiled.

The manager looked toward Vince.

Vince noticed.

"What?"

The manager discreetly indicated Arel-Sin.

Vince turned.

He stared.

Arel-Sin stared back.

Vince pointed.

"What is that?"

Arel-Sin looked down.

"My poncho."

"I can see it's a poncho."

Vince leaned forward.

"Why are you wearing a garbage bag?"

"It stops food from getting on my suit."

Vince paused.

Joanna immediately jumped in.

"He got food on his suit at court once."

"I did."

"So now he does this."

"It works."

Phoebe nodded.

"It does."

Joanna looked at her.

"You're not helping either."

Vince stared at Arel-Sin.

Then at the poncho.

Then at the table.

Then at the large cloth napkin sitting in front of him.

His expression changed.

"Arel-Sin."

"Yes?"

"Come here."

Arel-Sin got up.

Walked around the table.

Stopped beside Vince.

Vince picked up the napkin.

Unfolded it completely.

Then-

He tucked one end into Arel-Sin's shirt collar.

Arel-Sin looked down.

Vince spread the rest across the front of his suit.

"There."

Arel-Sin examined it.

The napkin covered most of the vulnerable territory.

Vince pointed toward the garbage bag.

"No need for the poncho."

Arel-Sin considered this.

"…but what if something falls lower?"

Vince looked.

The napkin ended around Arel-Sin's waist.

He considered the problem.

Then shook his head.

"You're going to have to take that risk."

Arel-Sin frowned.

Still...

He removed the garbage bag.

Folded it again.

And returned it to his pocket.

"Thank you."

Vince smiled.

"You're welcome."

Arel-Sin returned to his seat.

Vince watched him go.

Then looked down at the napkin.

His eyes narrowed.

Luxury dining poncho.

He imagined it.

Fine material.

Custom logos.

Disposable versions.

Reusable versions.

WFE branding.

Maybe wrestler designs.

THE OFFICIAL COMBAT ARTS DINING PONCHO.

Vince slowly smiled.

Aiden saw the expression.

"No."

Vince turned.

"What?"

"Whatever you're thinking."

"You don't know what I'm thinking."

"I know that face."

Vince looked toward Arel-Sin.

Then back toward Aiden.

"We'll talk later."

Aiden sighed.

—

Elara sat quietly.

Too quietly.

The others talked around her.

Azamat occasionally glanced toward Logan.

Logan occasionally noticed.

Arel-Sin admired his napkin.

Phoebe and Armintie debated what they might order.

Vince talked loudly with Triple X.

Joanna laughed at something Aiden said.

Elara looked around.

The restaurant was still overwhelming.

The table was overwhelming.

Vince was overwhelming.

Everything about him seemed to announce importance.

He had entered the building and people reacted.

Staff moved.

Managers appeared.

People took pictures.

Seats materialized.

Even the hundred-dollar bill had somehow seemed less like a tip and more like a royal decree.

…and Elara...

Elara was Queen.

Queen of Aetheria.

She had documentation proving it.

Unity recognized her.

Peace recognized her.

Foreign governments recognized her.

People called her Your Majesty.

…and yet...

Sitting here...

She felt like a girl who had accidentally wandered into someone else's important dinner.

She looked down at herself.

Then toward Vince.

Vince belonged here.

Or at least behaved as though he did.

Elara didn't.

She hated that thought.

She straightened.

Royal posture.

Whatever royal posture was.

Shoulders back.

Head up.

Confidence.

She was Queen.

She was-

Eldred leaned toward her.

"You okay?"

Elara looked at him.

"Yes."

Too fast.

Eldred's eyebrow rose.

"I'm fine."

"Okay."

"I am."

"I didn't say you weren't."

Elara straightened even more.

"I am doing just fine."

Eldred stared.

Elara stared back.

"Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you know something."

"I know you."

Elara frowned.

Across the table, Joanna had noticed too.

So had Zas.

Joanna leaned slightly toward her.

"Everything okay?"

Elara smiled.

"Everything's wonderful."

Joanna looked at Zas.

Zas looked at Joanna.

Then at Elara.

Elara's smile remained.

Far too deliberately.

Zas spoke.

"You appear uncomfortable."

Elara's smile disappeared.

"Thank you."

Zas frowned.

"Was that wrong?"

Joanna patted his arm.

"Little bit."

"I was answering honestly."

"I know."

Elara shook her head.

"No."

She forced the smile back.

"I'm fine."

Eldred quietly touched her hand beneath the table.

Elara squeezed it.

She didn't tell them.

Couldn't.

It sounded ridiculous.

She had survived the Fall of Aetheris.

She had survived captivity.

She had survived Havin.

She had survived Forman.

She had become Queen.

…and somehow...

A fancy restaurant and a professional wrestling promoter were making her question whether she looked important enough.

She hated that.

So she sat straighter.

"Really."

She looked toward Joanna.

"I'm doing just fine."

Joanna nodded.

"Okay."

She didn't believe her.

Neither did Eldred.

Neither did Zas.

…but none of them pushed.

Not here.

Not now.

Elara appreciated that.

—

Eventually everyone settled.

Menus appeared.

Then more menus.

Then a separate wine list.

Then another smaller menu containing items Zas couldn't immediately identify.

He looked toward Joanna.

"What is this?"

"Appetizers."

"There is another appetizer page."

"Those are different appetizers."

"Why?"

"Because expensive."

Zas frowned.

That explained nothing.

Vince picked up his menu.

Then immediately put it down.

"All right."

Everyone looked toward him.

"Before anybody starts doing this-"

He picked the menu up again and performed an exaggerated squint.

"'How much does this cost?'"

He threw it back down.

"Don't."

Rahim raised an eyebrow.

Vince leaned back.

"Nobody at this table is paying."

Zas looked toward Joanna.

Joanna smiled.

"Told you."

Vince continued.

"Dinner's covered."

Azamat looked impressed.

"By you?"

Vince shook his head.

"Better."

He smiled.

"WFE Accounting."

Aiden slowly looked toward him.

Vince ignored him.

Triple X laughed.

Logan picked up his menu.

"Now I'm ordering dessert."

"You were ordering dessert anyway."

"Now I'm ordering two."

Vince pointed at him.

"That's the spirit."

Arel-Sin looked toward Joanna.

"Can I order anything?"

Joanna opened her mouth.

Vince answered first.

"Anything."

Arel-Sin's eyes widened.

Joanna pointed toward Vince.

"Within reason."

Vince shook his head.

"No."

Joanna stared.

"Vince."

"It's dinner!"

"He's fourteen."

"He's hungry."

Arel-Sin nodded enthusiastically.

Zas picked up the menu again.

He looked at the prices.

Then toward Vince.

"Your accounting department pays for this?"

"Yep."

Zas considered that.

Then returned to the menu.

His expression became considerably more interested.

Joanna smiled.

There.

Finally.

The suit had paid off.

Elara lasted several minutes.

That was better than she expected.

The menus had been collected.

Drinks had arrived.

Conversation had begun spreading around the table.

Azamat had stopped glaring at Logan Creed.

Mostly.

Arel-Sin had stopped asking whether the napkin protected his trousers.

Mostly.

Vince was telling Triple X something with enough hand gestures that Elara assumed it was either extremely important...

...or wrestling.

She still couldn't tell the difference.

Elara sat beside Eldred.

She tried to listen.

She tried to relax.

She tried to enjoy herself.

Instead-

Her chest felt tight.

The restaurant suddenly seemed louder.

The people seemed closer.

She looked toward the entrance.

Then toward Eldred.

"I need some air."

Eldred immediately moved.

"I'll come."

"No."

He stopped.

Elara smiled faintly.

"I just want a few minutes alone."

Eldred studied her.

"You sure?"

"Yes."

He didn't look convinced.

Elara touched his hand.

"Really."

"Okay."

She stood.

One of the Peace Officers assigned to her detail noticed immediately.

Elara noticed him noticing.

Wonderful.

Even going outside now involved people noticing.

She headed toward the entrance.

The Officer followed at a distance.

Elara didn't object.

Technically...

That counted as alone now.

...

The night air felt wonderful.

Elara stepped away from the entrance.

Breathed.

No court.

No summit.

No provinces.

No Forman.

No Havin.

No Crown property.

No Vince.

For perhaps thirty seconds...

Just Elara.

She closed her eyes.

Then heard something.

Movement.

Metal scraping.

Elara opened her eyes.

Around the side of the restaurant, near the service alley, a woman was bent over one of the large garbage containers.

Elara stared.

At first she thought the woman worked there.

Then the woman reached inside.

Pulled something out.

Examined it.

Elara's expression changed.

Food.

She was looking for food.

In the garbage.

Elara slowly walked closer.

The woman noticed.

Immediately backed away.

"Sorry."

Elara stopped.

"What?"

"I'll go."

"No."

The woman hesitated.

Elara looked at the garbage.

Then at her.

"Are you hungry?"

The woman didn't answer.

She didn't need to.

Elara looked back toward the restaurant.

Then toward the woman.

"Wait here."

The woman frowned.

"What?"

"Just..."

Elara pointed.

"Don't go anywhere."

Then she hurried inside.

...

Several minutes later, Elara emerged carrying a takeout bag.

She'd ordered far too much.

She knew that.

A proper meal.

Something warm.

Bread.

Something for later.

A drink.

She didn't know what the woman liked.

So she'd simply bought enough that something in the bag probably worked.

The woman was still there.

Elara smiled.

"Here."

She started toward her.

A restaurant employee stepped in front of her.

"I'm sorry, ma'am."

Elara stopped.

"What?"

"You can't do that."

Elara looked at him.

Then at the bag.

"Do what?"

"Give her food."

Elara stared.

"I bought it."

"I understand."

"Then what's the problem?"

Another employee approached.

"We've already called the Watchmen."

Elara frowned.

"Why?"

The first employee glanced toward the woman.

"She isn't supposed to be here."

Elara looked toward the dumpster.

Then back at him.

"She's hungry."

"We've had problems before."

"What problems?"

"People coming around asking customers for money."

"She didn't ask me for anything."

The employee remained polite.

Firm.

"Ma'am, we can't encourage this."

Elara's eyebrows rose.

"Encourage what?"

The man hesitated.

Elara pointed toward the woman.

"Being hungry?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"People congregating around the property."

Elara stared at him.

The Peace Officer posted outside had noticed the discussion but remained several metres away.

Elara looked toward the restaurant.

Through the windows she could see chandeliers.

Tables.

Wine.

Food.

People paying enormous amounts of money to eat enormous amounts of food.

She looked back toward the dumpster.

Something inside her snapped.

"This is Rome."

The employee frowned.

"Yes."

"Rome."

"Yes, ma'am."

Elara gestured broadly toward the city.

"One of the richest countries in the world."

Neither employee answered.

"…and there's a woman looking through garbage for dinner."

The second employee sighed.

"Ma'am-"

"No."

Elara shook her head.

"No."

She held up the bag.

"I just sat in there with people eating like royalty."

Then she caught herself.

She actually was royalty.

That somehow made the sentence worse.

"…and you're telling me I can't give someone food?"

"We have policies."

"I don't care about your policy."

The first employee's expression hardened slightly.

"We can't allow guests to distribute food to homeless people on restaurant property."

"I paid for it."

"That isn't the issue."

"Then whose food is it?"

The employee paused.

Elara lifted the bag.

"Mine?"

"Yes."

"So I can do what I want with it."

"Not on the property."

Elara looked toward the woman.

She was already retreating.

Embarrassed.

Humiliated.

Elara's anger grew.

"If she gets sick, I'll take responsibility."

"That's not-"

"I'll write it down."

"Ma'am-"

"I'll sign something."

"That's not how this works."

Elara stared.

"Apparently nothing works."

She stepped around him.

He moved with her.

Elara stopped.

"Move."

"Ma'am, please go back inside."

"No."

"The Watchmen are coming."

"Good."

She stepped the other way.

The second employee blocked her.

Elara stared at both men.

Then simply walked between them.

A hand caught her arm.

Elara froze.

Another grabbed her other arm.

"Ma'am-"

"Get your hands off me."

The Peace Officer moved instantly.

"Release her."

The employees turned.

The Officer was already there.

"Sir, she's-"

"I said release her."

One employee let go.

The other hesitated.

The Officer grabbed his wrist and removed his hand from Elara's arm.

Not violently.

…but there was no negotiation involved.

"Step away."

Both employees did.

Elara rubbed her arm.

The Officer looked at her.

"Are you all right, Your Majesty?"

The employees froze.

Elara closed her eyes.

Of course.

Of course that was how they found out.

"I'm fine."

The first employee stared.

"Your..."

Elara ignored him.

She walked toward the woman.

The woman stared at her now too.

Elara held out the bag.

"This is yours."

The woman didn't move.

Elara smiled.

"Please."

Slowly...

The woman took it.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

The woman looked inside.

Then back at Elara.

"Thank you."

Elara nodded.

That was all she wanted.

She turned back toward the restaurant.

The employees were still staring at her.

The Peace Officer remained between them.

None of them noticed the phone across the street.

Or the person holding it.

They hadn't noticed when the argument began.

They hadn't noticed when Elara was grabbed.

They hadn't noticed when the Peace Officer intervened.

They hadn't noticed the camera zooming toward the woman receiving the food.

…and they certainly didn't notice the video being uploaded.

...

By the time Elara reached the entrance again...

Thousands had seen it.

By the time she reached the door...

Tens of thousands.

The caption was simple.

QUEEN OF AETHERIA STOPPED FROM FEEDING HOMELESS WOMAN IN ERCOULANUM

Comments multiplied underneath.

She bought the food. Why do they care what she does with it?

They physically grabbed her over giving someone dinner.

That's Elara???

Imagine being so committed to hating homeless people that you put your hands on a QUEEN.

I didn't know anything about this woman yesterday and I already like her.

Then-

Nice gesture. Maybe she should feed Aetheria.

Her country is rubble and she's eating somewhere I couldn't afford in ten years.

Queen plays charity while dining with billionaires. Wonderful.

People understand she inherited a destroyed country like five minutes ago, right?

Havin's daughter discovers poverty. Inspirational.

At least she actually did something when she saw it.

The numbers kept climbing.

Elara knew none of this.

She reached for the restaurant door.

The employee there moved in front of it.

"I'm sorry."

Elara stared.

"Now what?"

"Management needs a moment."

"A moment for what?"

The employee looked uncomfortable.

"I've been asked not to let you back inside yet."

Elara blinked.

"Why?"

"I'm not authorized to discuss that."

Elara stared at him.

"I'm sitting in there."

"I understand."

"My boyfriend is in there."

"Yes."

"My friends are in there."

"Yes."

"My purse is in there."

"I understand."

"Then I would like to go in there."

"I'm sorry."

Elara's mouth fell open.

"What is happening tonight?"

From inside-

"Hey!"

Vince.

Elara looked through the doors.

Vince was approaching.

Fast.

Aiden followed.

So did Joanna.

Vince reached the entrance.

"What's going on?"

The employee turned.

"Mr. McGeady, management is dealing with an incident."

"What incident?"

Elara raised her hand.

"Apparently me."

Vince looked at her.

Then at the employee.

Then back at Elara.

"What did you do?"

"I gave somebody food."

Vince stared.

"That's it?"

"They called the Watchmen."

Vince stared harder.

"They called the Watchmen because you gave somebody food?"

"I don't know."

The employee tried.

"Mr. McGeady-"

Vince pointed toward the dining room.

"She's with me."

"Management asked-"

"She's at my table."

"Yes, but-"

"My reservation."

"Yes."

"My dinner."

"Yes."

Vince smiled.

"Then she's going back to my table."

The employee hesitated.

Vince's smile disappeared.

"Do we have a problem?"

Apparently...

They did not.

The employee stepped aside.

Vince gestured grandly.

"Your Majesty."

Elara frowned.

"Don't."

Vince laughed.

They walked inside.

Joanna immediately went to Elara.

"What happened?"

"I don't know."

"You okay?"

"I'm fine."

Elara looked toward the restaurant employees.

They weren't smiling anymore.

Several watched her.

She felt it.

"Can we just eat?"

Joanna studied her.

Then nodded.

"Yeah."

...

Elara returned to the table.

Eldred immediately leaned toward her.

"What happened?"

"Later."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes."

"Are you actually okay or Queen okay?"

Elara looked at him.

That was annoyingly perceptive.

"Somewhere between."

Eldred took her hand.

She squeezed it.

Then her phone vibrated.

Elara ignored it.

It vibrated again.

She looked.

A message.

PETRAEUS

Elara's eyes widened.

"Oh."

Eldred looked.

"What?"

Elara opened it.

A link.

Underneath-

You appear to be having an interesting dinner.

Elara frowned.

"What?"

She tapped the link.

Video.

Her.

Outside.

Holding the bag.

Elara froze.

She watched herself argue with the employees.

Watched herself point toward the restaurant.

Watched them block her.

Watched-

"Oh."

Eldred leaned closer.

"What?"

Elara kept watching.

Then saw the employee grab her.

The Peace Officer intervene.

The food handed over.

The video ended.

View count-

Elara stared.

Refreshed.

The number increased.

"What is that?"

Eldred took out his own phone.

Elara's phone vibrated again.

Petraeus.

You did what you believed was right. I'm not criticizing that.

Another message.

…but remember something: you are a public figure now.

Then-

People will see things you never knew they were watching. They will interpret things you never intended as statements.

Elara swallowed.

Another message arrived.

That doesn't mean you stop being yourself. It means you learn that Queen Elara can rarely do something that affects only Elara.

Elara stared at the words.

No anger.

No reprimand.

No command to apologize.

Just...

A lesson.

Another one.

Apparently Petraeus had decided the entire Aetherian government was his classroom.

Elara typed.

I didn't know anyone was filming.

The response came quickly.

That's usually when the interesting videos happen.

Despite herself...

Elara smiled.

Then-

We'll talk later. Enjoy your dinner.

Elara stared at the screen.

Then noticed the notifications.

Hundreds.

She opened them.

Support.

Anger.

Praise.

Mockery.

Arguments.

People defending her.

People attacking the restaurant.

People attacking Rome.

People attacking homelessness.

People attacking Aetheria.

People attacking her.

She saw one comment.

Maybe Queen Elara should worry about the starving people in her own ruined country before playing saviour in Rome.

Her smile disappeared.

Another.

Imagine dining with Vince McGeady while Aetherians are rebuilding houses with scraps.

Elara swallowed.

She locked the phone.

Placed it face down.

Eldred had found the video now.

"Oh."

"Yes."

"That's..."

"Yes."

"How many views?"

"I don't want to know."

Eldred wisely stopped.

Elara looked around the restaurant.

A few diners were looking toward her now.

Had they seen it?

Probably.

Then she looked toward the staff.

One employee whispered something to another.

Another glanced toward her.

Elara immediately looked away.

Her earlier insecurity returned.

Except now it had changed.

Before...

She'd worried that nobody saw her as a Queen.

Now...

Far too many people did.

Joanna noticed.

"Elara?"

"I'm fine."

Joanna gave her a look.

Elara sighed.

"No."

She looked toward the employees again.

"I'm not."

Zas followed her eyes.

Elara lowered her voice.

"They hate me now."

Zas frowned.

"You don't know that."

"They're looking at me."

"People have been looking at Vince all night."

Vince heard his name.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Vince returned to his conversation.

Elara almost smiled.

Joanna leaned closer.

"What did Petraeus say?"

Elara looked at her.

"That I'm a public figure."

Joanna nodded slowly.

"Yeah."

"…and everything I do matters."

"Pretty much."

Elara stared.

Joanna immediately reconsidered.

"Not everything everything."

Elara raised an eyebrow.

"Okay."

Joanna sighed.

"More things than you're used to."

Elara looked toward her phone.

Then around the restaurant.

Then toward the employees.

The woman outside had food.

That still mattered.

Elara knew she'd do it again.

…but now...

She understood something she hadn't understood an hour earlier.

Becoming Queen hadn't merely given her power.

It had taken away something too.

The ability to assume that nobody was watching.

The food finally arrived.

…and Arel-Sin was ready.

He had Vince's enormous napkin tucked securely into his collar, spread across the entire front of his suit.

That wasn't enough.

Arel-Sin had requested another.

That one lay across his lap.

He looked down.

Chest protected.

Shirt protected.

Tie protected.

Jacket protected.

Trousers protected.

He smiled.

Invincible.

Phoebe looked at him.

"You look ridiculous."

"I look prepared."

Armintie examined his defensive arrangement.

"What about your sleeves?"

Arel-Sin looked.

He hadn't considered his sleeves.

"They will be fine."

Joanna smiled.

"You sure you don't want gloves too?"

Arel-Sin ignored her.

The server placed his meal down.

Arel-Sin carefully picked up his fork.

Cut.

Lifted.

Ate.

Perfect.

Again.

Perfect.

Arel-Sin smiled smugly at Phoebe.

Then-

A tiny droplet of sauce somehow launched itself from his fork.

It travelled through the air.

Past the chest napkin.

Past the lap napkin.

…and landed directly on his jacket sleeve.

Arel-Sin froze.

Phoebe's eyes widened.

Armintie covered her mouth.

Arel-Sin slowly looked down.

A tiny spot.

Right there.

On his suit.

He stared at it.

Then slowly turned his head toward the restaurant around him.

Death glare.

As though the restaurant itself had deliberately plotted against him.

Phoebe lost it.

She laughed.

Armintie followed.

Arel-Sin reached toward his pocket.

Joanna immediately saw it.

"No."

Arel-Sin looked at her.

"The napkins failed."

"You are not putting on the garbage bag."

"They failed."

"It's one drop."

"The poncho would have stopped it."

Zas examined the stain.

"He is correct."

"Zas!"

Vince laughed loudly from farther down the table.

Arel-Sin looked toward him.

"The napkin didn't work."

Vince nodded solemnly.

"I saw."

Arel-Sin reached toward his pocket again.

Joanna pointed.

"Don't."

Arel-Sin sighed.

Vince continued chuckling.

…but then...

His expression changed.

He looked at Arel-Sin.

Looked at the napkins.

Looked at the suit.

Dining poncho.

Maybe that actually was something.

Not a garbage bag.

Something elegant.

Waterproof.

Maybe transparent.

Maybe black.

WFE logo.

Different wrestler designs.

Kids would love them.

Restaurants could-

Aiden noticed.

"No."

Vince frowned.

"I didn't say anything."

"You don't have to."

"I think the kid's onto something."

Aiden sighed.

Vince smiled.

The dining poncho lived.

—

Across the table...

Azamat was staring at Logan Creed again.

Logan noticed.

Again.

Azamat looked away.

Then back.

Logan tried eating.

Azamat stared.

Logan looked up.

Azamat immediately narrowed his eyes.

Logan frowned.

He returned to his meal.

Ten seconds.

He looked up again.

Still staring.

Finally-

"What is your problem, dude?"

The table quieted.

Azamat blinked.

Joanna looked toward Zas.

Zas looked toward Azamat.

Azamat laughed.

This was it.

He'd imagined moments like this.

Standing across from Logan Creed.

Looking him in the eyes.

Calling him out.

The words had sounded magnificent in his imagination.

Unfortunately...

His imagination hadn't included nerves.

Azamat straightened.

"My problem..."

His voice cracked slightly.

He cleared his throat.

"...my problem is you."

Logan stared.

"What did I do?"

Azamat pointed toward him.

"You win."

Logan waited.

"You win all the time."

Logan glanced toward Triple X.

"Is that bad?"

Azamat shook his head.

"No."

Then-

"Yes."

Then-

"No."

Joanna covered her mouth.

Azamat knew he was falling apart.

He straightened again.

"You beat everybody."

Logan smiled faintly.

"That's generally the idea."

Azamat leaned forward.

"Nobody stops you."

Now Logan understood.

Azamat tried desperately to recover his confidence.

"If nobody else is able to stop you..."

He pointed at himself.

"...then I will."

There.

That sounded better.

Logan stared.

Then smiled.

Not mockingly.

Interested.

He leaned forward.

"Okay."

Azamat blinked.

"Okay?"

"After dinner..."

Logan pointed toward him.

"...show me what you've got."

Azamat's eyes widened.

Every trace of nervousness disappeared.

"Yes."

Logan laughed.

"That's a challenge."

"I accept."

"You don't even know what we're doing."

"I accept."

Logan laughed again.

"All right."

Azamat folded his arms.

The glare returned.

This time...

Logan returned it.

Vince watched the entire exchange.

His fork stopped halfway toward his mouth.

He looked at Azamat.

Then Logan.

Then Azamat.

Physical presence.

Confidence.

Enthusiasm.

A legitimate warrior.

Already obsessed with wrestling.

Already generating something with Logan Creed merely by sitting across a dinner table.

Vince smiled.

Azamat could really be something for me.

Then his eyes drifted toward Zas.

Zas was eating peacefully beside Joanna.

Vince's smile grew.

Now...

If he could only convince him.

—

Elara barely touched her food.

That wasn't entirely true.

She touched it.

She tasted it.

That was the problem.

She chewed slowly.

Her eyes narrowed.

Too much salt.

Not everywhere.

Just enough.

The reduction was slightly overdone.

The vegetables had been cooked separately- which was fine- but their seasoning didn't complement the sauce properly.

Something acidic would have helped.

The meat itself was excellent.

Almost.

It had rested too long.

Elara took another bite.

She found something else.

Then something else.

Then something else.

She hated this.

Everyone around her loved it.

Zas seemed impressed.

Phoebe loved hers.

Armintie was devouring something Elara couldn't identify from where she sat.

Arel-Sin had forgotten his suit tragedy long enough to eat again.

Vince was delighted.

Logan and Azamat had apparently scheduled some sort of post-dinner combat ritual.

…and Elara...

Elara could identify twenty things she'd change about her plate.

Because she cooked.

She understood food.

She understood what the kitchen had been trying to accomplish.

…and she knew exactly where it hadn't worked.

Normally...

She might have said something.

Politely.

Maybe even enthusiastically.

Cooking fascinated her.

She could discuss it for hours.

…but now-

She imagined another phone.

Another video.

QUEEN ELARA COMPLAINS ABOUT LUXURY DINNER

Or-

AETHERIA'S "KAREN QUEEN" DEMANDS BETTER FOOD

Or-

COUNTRY IN RUINS, QUEEN COMPLAINS STEAK IS OVERDONE

Elara put down her fork.

No.

Absolutely not.

She would eat it.

She would smile.

She would say it was wonderful.

Even if somebody served her charcoal covered in horse urine...

Wonderful.

Best meal she'd ever eaten.

Eldred looked at her.

"You don't like it."

Elara immediately picked up her fork.

"It's delicious."

Eldred stared.

"It is."

"Elara."

"What?"

"You've been dissecting it."

"I've been eating."

"You've moved that potato six times."

Elara looked down.

Her fork was resting against the potato.

She moved it back.

"I like potatoes."

Eldred leaned closer.

"What's wrong with the food?"

"Nothing."

"You're a terrible liar."

"I'm Queen."

"That doesn't make you better at lying."

"It should."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

Eldred smiled.

Elara didn't.

He immediately softened.

"What's really wrong?"

Elara glanced around.

The staff.

Other diners.

Phones.

People.

She lowered her voice.

"The sauce is reduced too far."

Eldred blinked.

"What?"

"…and the meat rested too long."

He stared.

"The vegetables aren't seasoned properly for the rest of the plate."

Eldred looked down at his own meal.

"I think it's good."

"It is good."

"Then-"

"…but I can taste everything that's wrong with it."

Eldred smiled.

Elara glared.

"Don't."

"I'm not laughing."

"You want to."

"A little."

Elara leaned closer.

"I can't say anything."

"Why?"

She stared at him.

Eldred remembered.

"Oh."

"Exactly."

Elara whispered.

"Imagine how that looks."

"You're allowed to dislike food."

"I'm not anymore!"

Eldred frowned.

"That's ridiculous."

"Is it?"

She gestured discreetly toward her phone.

"Twenty minutes ago I gave someone food and half the world apparently developed an opinion."

"Not half the world."

"You know what I mean."

A voice came from behind them.

"Your Majesty?"

Elara nearly jumped.

A restaurant manager stood nearby.

He had apparently heard more than she wanted him to.

Wonderful.

Elara straightened immediately.

"The food is excellent."

The manager smiled.

"I wasn't asking about the food."

Elara froze.

"Oh."

He glanced toward the surrounding staff.

"I overheard what you said."

Elara's stomach dropped.

The manager continued.

"I wanted to assure you that nobody here is plotting against you."

Elara stared.

"I didn't say plotting."

Eldred looked at her.

Elara frowned.

"I implied plotting."

The manager smiled gently.

"The staff aren't angry with you."

Elara looked toward the employees.

"They keep looking at me."

"Because you're Queen Elara."

That answer did not help.

The manager realized it.

"…and because of what happened earlier."

Even worse.

He continued quickly.

"…but nobody is waiting for you to make another mistake."

Elara looked down.

"I don't want anyone losing their job."

The manager paused.

"That isn't something you need to concern yourself with tonight."

That definitely didn't help.

Elara looked horrified.

"Is somebody losing their job?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Because I don't want-"

The manager suddenly looked past her.

His expression changed.

Elara followed his eyes.

Another table.

A teenage boy.

Phone upright.

Pointed directly toward her.

Recording.

Elara froze.

The teenager quickly lowered it.

Too late.

The manager sighed.

"All right."

He reached beneath his jacket.

Pulled out a small device.

Pressed something.

Around the room-

Phones began reacting.

A woman frowned at hers.

Someone else lifted his phone.

Another person tried tapping the screen.

The teenager stared at his.

Vince pulled his phone from his pocket.

"What the hell?"

Elara looked around.

"What did you do?"

The manager calmly returned the device to his pocket.

"Temporary cellular suppression."

Elara stared.

"What?"

"We have a no-phone policy in the dining room."

Joanna looked around.

"You do?"

"We generally don't enforce it unless necessary."

The manager indicated the teenager.

"Tonight it became necessary."

Elara stared at him.

"You shut everyone's phones off?"

"Temporarily."

"For me?"

"To protect the privacy of our guests."

"…but because of me."

The manager hesitated.

That hesitation answered everything.

Elara's face went pale.

Eldred immediately knew.

"Oh, no."

Elara stared into space.

Another headline appeared inside her mind.

QUEEN KAREN SHUTS DOWN RESTAURANT CELL PHONES

Then another.

AETHERIAN QUEEN DEMANDS PRIVACY AFTER VIRAL HOMELESS VIDEO

Another.

DINERS LOSE PHONE ACCESS SO QUEEN CAN EAT IN PEACE

"No."

Eldred touched her arm.

"Elara-"

"No."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not."

She stood.

The manager frowned.

"Your Majesty?"

Elara pushed her chair back.

"I'm going to the bathroom."

Eldred started getting up.

"No."

He stopped.

"I need..."

Elara gestured helplessly.

"...bathroom."

She turned.

Walked.

Then walked faster.

Joanna watched her go.

Eldred sighed.

"She's not okay."

"No."

Joanna stood.

"I've got her."

She followed.

—

Elara pushed through the bathroom door.

Thankfully...

Empty.

She walked directly toward the sinks.

Put both hands against the counter.

Stared at herself.

Queen.

She didn't see it.

She saw Elara.

Tired.

Scared.

Overwhelmed.

Trying desperately to understand rules nobody had ever taught her.

She'd given a hungry woman dinner.

Somehow that became international news.

She disliked her meal.

Somehow she was afraid that could become international news.

A teenager filmed her.

The restaurant shut down everyone's phones.

Which could probably become international news.

Everything could become international news.

The door opened.

Elara closed her eyes.

"Please don't be a reporter."

"It's me."

Joanna.

Elara exhaled.

Joanna approached slowly.

"You okay?"

Elara looked at her reflection.

"No."

Joanna stopped beside her.

Elara shook her head.

"I don't know how to do this."

Joanna said nothing.

Elara stared into the mirror.

"I don't know how to be watched all the time."

Her voice cracked.

"I don't know how to be Queen."

…and finally...

She turned toward Joanna.

For a moment...

Nothing came out.

Then everything did.

"I didn't know."

Joanna frowned.

"Didn't know what?"

"Any of this."

Elara gestured vaguely.

The restaurant.

The phones.

The cameras.

The government.

The entire world outside the bathroom.

"Everything that happens because I'm Queen."

Her voice cracked.

"I thought I'd have to govern."

Joanna almost smiled.

"That seems like a reasonable expectation."

"I knew I'd have meetings."

"Yes."

"Diplomats."

"Yep."

"Paperwork."

"Definitely."

"Speeches."

"Probably lots."

"I knew people would disagree with me."

Elara swallowed.

"…but I didn't know I'd give someone dinner and suddenly thousands of strangers would argue about what it meant."

Joanna leaned against the counter.

Elara continued.

"I didn't know I'd have to wonder whether criticizing potatoes could become a political scandal."

That one got Joanna.

She laughed.

Elara glared.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not funny."

"No."

Joanna fought the smile.

"It's a little funny."

Elara stared.

Then-

A tiny laugh escaped her too.

It lasted approximately two seconds.

Then Elara looked back into the mirror.

Joanna studied her.

"Can I ask something?"

"What?"

"You were already a Princess."

Elara looked at her.

"You weren't exactly..."

Joanna hesitated.

"...a nobody."

Elara's expression changed.

"No."

"…but weren't you used to some of this?"

Elara shook her head.

"No."

She turned back toward the mirror.

"My father kept me in the Palace."

Joanna's smile disappeared.

"Most of the time, anyway."

Elara touched the countertop.

"I had tutors."

"Servants."

"Guards."

"I could walk around the grounds."

"Sometimes we'd travel."

She shrugged.

"…but I wasn't out there."

She gestured toward the door.

"Not really."

Joanna listened.

"My father would bring me out sometimes."

"A ceremony."

"A photograph."

"Some celebration where he wanted the family standing beside him."

Elara rolled her eyes.

"Smile."

"Wave."

"Look pretty."

"Then go back inside."

Joanna frowned.

"He never prepared you for public life?"

"Why would he?"

Elara looked at her.

"My brothers were supposed to rule."

There it was.

Simple.

Ugly.

"They were the heirs."

"Not me."

Elara looked down.

"I wasn't trained to govern."

"I wasn't trained to negotiate."

"I wasn't trained to give speeches."

"I wasn't trained to deal with journalists."

"I wasn't trained to have strangers film me eating dinner."

She looked toward the mirror again.

"I'm only Queen because..."

Her voice softened.

"...I'm the only one left."

Joanna said nothing.

Elara stared at herself.

…and suddenly...

She really looked.

Her makeup had run beneath her eyes.

Again.

She'd cried so many times today that trying to maintain it had become almost pointless.

Her hair had shifted out of place.

One piece of jewelry sat crooked.

Another had twisted.

She tilted her head.

Then saw it.

A patch along her neck where she'd missed the makeup.

Scar tissue.

Visible.

Elara touched it.

Her expression fell.

"Look at me."

Joanna did.

"My makeup's ruined."

"It can be fixed."

"My hair's a mess."

"It can be fixed."

"My necklace is crooked."

"Also fixable."

Elara touched the exposed scar.

"I missed this."

Joanna knew what she meant.

Elara stared at herself.

"I'm supposed to be a Queen."

Joanna opened her mouth.

Elara kept going.

"…and I'm standing in a bathroom crying."

Her eyes filled again.

"Again."

She laughed bitterly.

"I'm a whimpering..."

She wiped beneath one eye.

"...cowering..."

Another tear escaped.

"...bawling..."

She shook her head.

"...sob."

Joanna frowned.

"Elara."

"What Queen looks like this?"

Joanna stared at her.

Then looked around the bathroom.

"This is weird."

Elara sniffled.

"What?"

"I'm giving a Queen a pep talk in a restaurant bathroom."

Despite everything...

Elara laughed.

Joanna smiled.

"That's not how I expected tonight to go."

"Me neither."

Joanna stepped closer.

"…but you're missing something."

"What?"

"You're still a person."

Elara looked at her.

"Queen is your job."

Joanna shrugged.

"Okay, maybe it's more complicated than a job."

"A little."

"…but it didn't replace you."

Elara looked back toward the mirror.

Joanna continued.

"You're allowed to screw up."

"You're allowed to be overwhelmed."

"You're allowed to not know something."

"You're allowed to be scared."

She smiled.

"You're even allowed to hate your potatoes."

Elara laughed again.

"Stop."

"I'm serious."

Joanna touched her shoulder.

"Unfortunately..."

She sighed dramatically.

"...life doesn't come with a manual."

Elara frowned.

"Mine really should."

"Maybe Petraeus can write you one."

That got another laugh.

Joanna smiled.

"See?"

Elara wiped her face.

Joanna continued.

"You care."

"That's obvious."

"You listen."

"You're more perceptive than you think you are."

"…and every time you realize you don't know something..."

Joanna shrugged.

"...you try to learn it."

Elara looked at her.

"That's the part that matters."

"You think so?"

"Absolutely."

Joanna pointed toward the mirror.

"Maybe you don't know how to be Queen yet."

Elara's expression fell slightly.

"…but you can learn."

It returned.

"You've got the capacity to learn."

Joanna smiled.

"So learn."

Elara stared at herself.

The ruined makeup.

The messy hair.

The scar.

The crooked jewelry.

Still Elara.

Still Queen.

The bathroom door opened.

Both women turned.

A waitress stepped inside.

She stopped when she saw them.

"Oh."

Elara immediately straightened.

The waitress smiled nervously.

"Your Majesty?"

Elara closed her eyes.

Joanna almost laughed.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry."

The waitress held a tablet against her chest.

"Royal Chancellor Eldred told us you had some concerns about your meal."

Elara's entire face went red.

"Oh, by Jove."

Joanna looked away.

Elara covered her face.

"He told you?"

"He said there were..."

The waitress hesitated.

"...quite a few things."

Elara looked horrified.

"I wasn't complaining."

"I know."

"I didn't ask him to complain."

"He didn't."

"I don't want anybody fired."

"No one's being fired."

"I don't want another incident."

The waitress smiled.

"You're not causing one."

Elara stared at her.

The waitress held up the tablet.

"We want to fix your meal."

Elara blinked.

"What?"

"We'd like to remake it."

"You don't have to."

"We want to."

Elara looked toward Joanna.

Joanna shrugged.

The waitress continued.

"Actually..."

Her professional composure slipped.

She suddenly looked nervous.

"...I was hoping I'd get to meet you."

Elara frowned.

"Me?"

The waitress smiled.

"I watch your cooking videos."

Elara stared.

"My..."

"Your cooking videos."

The waitress laughed.

"I'm a big fan."

Elara blinked.

Of all the things she expected tonight...

That wasn't one.

"You've seen them?"

"Most of them."

Elara's mouth opened slightly.

The waitress smiled wider.

"My daughter watches them with me."

Elara didn't know what to say.

"She wants to be a Queen when she grows up."

Joanna smiled.

Elara's eyes widened.

The waitress sighed.

"She's going to be very disappointed when she learns how the Roman political system works."

Joanna laughed.

Elara did too.

"…but..."

The waitress' smile softened.

"...that's what you mean to her."

Elara stopped laughing.

"She sees you cooking."

"She sees you talking to people."

"She sees you trying to rebuild your country."

"…and she thinks..."

The waitress shrugged.

"...that's what Queens do."

Elara stared.

Something tightened in her throat again.

"What's her name?"

"Lucia."

Elara smiled.

"Tell Lucia I said hello."

The waitress beamed.

"I will."

Then her expression changed.

She looked down at the tablet.

There was something else.

Something much harder.

"I also..."

She hesitated.

Elara waited.

The waitress looked toward Joanna.

Then back at Elara.

"I saw the court coverage."

Elara's smile disappeared.

The waitress swallowed.

"I know what happened to you."

Elara became very still.

"…and..."

The waitress struggled.

"...I know you withdrew from the case."

Elara looked down.

The waitress immediately continued.

"I'm not criticizing you."

Elara looked back up.

"I understand why."

A pause.

"Forman's going to prison anyway."

"Maybe not as long as he should."

She shrugged faintly.

"…but..."

"Twenty-five years is something."

Elara nodded slowly.

The waitress gripped the tablet tighter.

"I wish I'd had your courage."

Elara frowned.

"What do you mean?"

The waitress stared at the floor.

"I dated someone."

Joanna's expression changed.

The waitress continued.

"Not for very long."

"He seemed..."

She paused.

"...normal."

"Nice."

"Then one night..."

Her voice became quieter.

"...he raped me."

Elara froze.

Joanna did too.

The waitress stared at the floor.

"I went to the Watchmen."

"I was hysterical."

"They believed something had happened."

"They arrested him."

She swallowed.

"…and then..."

Her eyes filled.

"...I couldn't do it."

Elara's face softened.

"I couldn't testify."

"I couldn't sit in court."

"I couldn't look at him."

"I couldn't have lawyers asking me questions."

"I couldn't..."

She shook her head.

"I just couldn't."

Elara said nothing.

"So the case fell apart."

The waitress wiped one eye.

"…and sometimes I think..."

She stopped.

Tried again.

"...if I'd just been stronger..."

Elara frowned.

"...maybe he'd be in prison."

The waitress laughed bitterly.

"Instead..."

"I move every few years."

Elara stared.

"He finds out where I live."

"I move."

"He finds me again."

Her grip tightened around the tablet.

"I change my social media names."

"I block him."

"Then I block another account."

"…and another."

"Sometimes hundreds."

"Every few weeks..."

She shook her head.

"...there he is again."

Joanna looked horrified.

The waitress continued.

"I don't date much anymore."

"I try."

"I just..."

She shrugged helplessly.

"...don't trust men."

"My daughter's father..."

She smiled sadly.

"He was a sweet man."

"Really sweet."

"He tried."

"…but eventually..."

Her eyes dropped.

"...our marriage fell apart."

Silence.

Elara's eyes filled again.

The waitress looked toward her.

"So when I saw you..."

"After everything..."

"You still went into court."

"You still faced all of it."

"…and even when you decided to withdraw..."

"You did it because you thought it would help your country."

The waitress shook her head.

"That wasn't cowardice."

Elara swallowed.

"I wish I had half your courage."

Elara stared at her.

Then walked forward.

…and hugged her.

The waitress froze.

Completely.

Elara wrapped both arms around her.

The tablet became trapped awkwardly between them before the waitress put it down on the counter.

For several seconds...

The waitress didn't move.

Then slowly...

She hugged Elara back.

"Oh."

Elara held tighter.

The waitress blinked.

"I thought..."

"What?"

"I thought you weren't supposed to touch royalty."

Elara pulled back slightly.

"What?"

"Royalty."

The waitress looked embarrassed.

"I thought people weren't supposed to touch you unless you offered first."

Elara stared.

"Why?"

"I don't know."

Elara looked toward Joanna.

Joanna shrugged.

"That's a thing."

Elara frowned.

"That's stupid."

The waitress laughed through her tears.

Elara shook her head.

"I'm changing that."

Joanna smiled.

"Your first royal decree?"

"Maybe."

Elara looked back toward the waitress.

"What's your name?"

"Celine."

"Celine."

Elara hugged her again.

This time Celine didn't hesitate.

Elara rested her cheek against Celine's shoulder.

"You have more courage than you think."

Celine's face tightened.

"No."

"Yes."

"I ran away."

"You survived."

Celine closed her eyes.

Elara continued.

"You're standing here."

"You're working."

"You're raising your daughter."

"You're still living your life even though someone keeps trying to frighten you out of it."

Celine started crying again.

Elara did too.

"That has to mean something."

Celine squeezed her.

"I should have testified."

"Maybe."

Celine pulled back.

Elara looked directly at her.

"Maybe you would make a different decision now."

"Maybe you wouldn't."

Elara shook her head.

"…but don't compare yourself to me."

Celine frowned.

"Our situations weren't the same."

"I had people around me."

"I had Zas."

"The Blue Shield."

"Eldred."

"Peace."

"Responsibility."

"I became Queen."

Elara almost laughed at how absurd that list sounded.

"You did what you thought you needed to do."

"So did I."

Celine wiped her eyes.

Elara smiled.

"…and..."

She glanced toward the mirror.

Saw herself again.

Messy.

Scarred.

Crying.

Human.

"...maybe this applies to both of us."

Celine waited.

Elara took a breath.

"You shouldn't have to apologize for who you are."

Celine's face crumpled.

Elara hugged her again.

Celine cried against her shoulder.

Elara cried against Celine's.

Joanna stood nearby.

Quiet.

There wasn't anything she needed to add.

Eventually...

The two separated.

Celine wiped her face.

Then laughed.

"I have to go back to work."

Elara laughed too.

"I probably have to go back to being Queen."

"Probably."

Celine looked at the tablet.

"Which means..."

She held it toward Elara.

"...I still need to know what's wrong with your dinner."

Elara's eyes widened.

"Oh."

Joanna smiled.

"Here we go."

Elara hesitated.

Earlier...

The thought terrified her.

Complaining.

Demanding.

Being difficult.

Being Queen Karen.

She looked at Celine.

Celine simply waited.

Elara took the tablet.

"Okay."

She looked down.

Then began typing.

"The reduction is too far."

Celine nodded.

"…and there's slightly too much salt."

"Okay."

"The meat rested too long."

Celine watched her type.

"The vegetables are good individually, but they don't really work with the sauce."

"Anything else?"

Elara paused.

Joanna raised an eyebrow.

Elara looked at her.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"There are more things."

"I know."

Elara looked back at the tablet.

"The acidity needs adjusting."

She typed.

"…and..."

More typing.

Celine waited.

Elara stopped.

Reviewed the list.

It was substantial.

She looked toward Celine.

"Is this too much?"

Celine smiled.

"No."

Elara hesitated.

Then handed the tablet back.

Celine read it.

"Perfect."

"Really?"

"Really."

Celine smiled.

"We'll fix it."

Elara nodded.

"Thank you."

Celine started toward the door.

Then stopped.

She looked back.

"Your Majesty?"

Elara looked at her.

"My daughter isn't wrong."

Elara frowned.

"About what?"

Celine smiled.

"You're a Queen."

Then she left.

The door closed.

Elara stared after her.

Joanna looked toward Elara.

Then toward the mirror.

Elara followed her eyes.

The makeup was still ruined.

Her hair was still a mess.

Her jewelry was still crooked.

The scar on her neck was still visible.

Nothing about her appearance had changed.

…but Elara straightened anyway.

Not because Queens weren't allowed to cry.

Not because Queens always knew what they were doing.

Not because Queens never made mistakes.

She straightened because...

Maybe Joanna was right.

Maybe Celine was right.

Maybe she didn't need to already know how to be Queen.

Maybe she only needed to keep learning.

Elara reached toward her necklace.

Straightened it.

Then looked at Joanna.

"Can you help me with my makeup?"

Joanna smiled.

"That..."

She stepped toward her.

"...I definitely know how to do."

By the time Elara and Joanna disappeared toward the bathroom, the rest of the table had largely returned to eating.

Phoebe, in particular, had committed herself to the task.

Zas noticed.

He looked at her plate.

Then looked again.

It wasn't a plate anymore.

It was geography.

There were meats.

Potatoes.

Vegetables.

Bread.

Something covered in sauce.

Something else covered in a different sauce.

…and Phoebe was steadily eliminating the mountain.

Zas lowered his fork.

"Phoebe."

She looked up.

"Mmm?"

"How much food did you order?"

Phoebe swallowed.

"I don't know."

Zas stared at the plate.

"You ordered it."

"I picked things."

"How many things?"

Phoebe shrugged.

"They said Vince was paying."

Vince looked over.

"WFE Accounting."

Phoebe nodded.

"Right."

Zas frowned.

That distinction did not make him feel better.

Armintie sat beside Phoebe, eating at a considerably more reasonable pace.

She looked at Phoebe's plate.

Then at Zas.

Then-

She remembered.

"Oh."

Zas looked at her.

Armintie smiled nervously.

"Nothing."

Zas's eyes narrowed.

It had only been months ago.

Pizza.

Too much pizza.

A hotel.

A toilet.

A terrible combination.

The plumbing disaster had ultimately involved more than Phoebe's eating habits, but Zas's parental memory had reduced the entire incident to one fundamental lesson:

Phoebe + enormous quantities of food + hotel plumbing = danger.

"Slow down."

Phoebe frowned.

"I'm fine."

"You said that before."

"When?"

Zas stared.

Phoebe remembered.

"Oh."

Armintie tried very hard not to laugh.

Phoebe pointed her fork toward her father.

"That wasn't entirely my fault."

"I know."

"The bracelet beads-"

"I know."

"So-"

"Slow down."

Phoebe rolled her eyes.

"I'm almost finished."

That was precisely what concerned him.

Five minutes later...

She was finished.

Phoebe leaned back.

For approximately three seconds, she looked triumphant.

Then-

Her face changed.

Zas saw it immediately.

Phoebe stared straight ahead.

Armintie noticed too.

"You okay?"

Phoebe swallowed.

"Yep."

Zas frowned.

"Phoebe."

"I'm..."

She swallowed again.

"...fine."

She was not fine.

Her stomach had apparently just informed her that the bill for her decisions had arrived.

Phoebe slowly put both hands against the edge of the table.

Then suddenly stood.

"I have to go."

Zas' eyes widened.

"Where?"

Phoebe stared at him.

"Where do you think?"

Then she hurried away.

Zas watched her go.

His parent brain immediately produced catastrophe.

"Armintie."

Armintie looked up.

"Go with her."

"What?"

"Make sure she's all right."

Armintie sighed.

"Okay."

She put down her fork.

Then followed Phoebe toward the bathroom.

Zas remained staring after them.

Vince waited until both girls were well out of earshot.

Then laughed.

Zas looked at him.

"What?"

"They'll be fine."

"I know."

Vince continued smiling.

Zas looked toward the bathrooms.

Then back.

"I know."

Joanna wasn't there to translate.

So Vince did it himself.

"You know..."

He pointed toward Zas' head.

"...but this doesn't know yet."

Zas frowned.

Vince tapped his temple.

"Parent brain."

Zas considered that.

Then sighed.

"Yes."

"Been there."

Zas finally returned to his meal.

He still looked toward the bathrooms approximately every fifteen seconds.

—

Vince ate another bite.

Then looked around the table.

The Queen was temporarily gone.

The kids were occupied.

Logan was eating.

Aiden had started discussing something quietly with Triple X.

…and sitting directly in front of Vince were five men he'd been curious about ever since he'd first seen the photographs.

Perfect.

"So."

Zas looked up.

Vince gestured toward the Blue Shield.

"Tell me about you guys."

Zas frowned.

"What about us?"

"Everything."

Semin immediately looked suspicious.

Rahim smiled faintly.

"That is a large question."

"Okay."

Vince leaned forward.

"What do you do?"

"We protect Daral Lake and the surrounding region."

"From what?"

"Whatever requires protection."

Vince smiled.

"I like that."

Semin didn't.

Vince continued.

"How many people are in the tribe?"

Zas answered.

Then came another question.

"How does the tribe work?"

Zas started explaining.

The Elder.

The Council.

The Order.

The responsibilities shared across the community.

Livestock.

Farming.

Patrols.

Training.

Vince interrupted frequently.

Not rudely.

Mostly.

He simply seemed incapable of receiving an answer without immediately discovering three more questions inside it.

Azamat happily contributed.

Especially when livestock came up.

"I handle much of that."

Vince looked at him.

"The animals?"

"Yes."

"What animals?"

Azamat started listing them.

Vince hadn't expected quite so many.

Rahim filled in details when necessary.

Ravi answered whenever Vince addressed him directly, although every time Vince's attention landed on him, Ravi seemed to become aware of his own hands and suddenly had no idea where to put them.

Semin mostly listened.

…and watched Vince.

Very carefully.

Eventually Vince reached the subject he actually cared about.

"Training."

Zas looked at him.

"What about it?"

"Warrior training."

Vince leaned forward.

"How different is that from wrestling?"

Triple X looked interested now too.

Azamat answered first.

"Not as different as you think."

Vince smiled.

"I knew it."

Zas immediately corrected the enthusiasm.

"There are differences."

"Obviously."

"…but many of the principles are similar."

"Strength?"

"Yes."

"Conditioning?"

"Yes."

"Balance?"

"Yes."

"Leverage?"

"Very important."

Triple X nodded.

"Footwork."

Zas looked toward him.

"Yes."

"Positioning."

"Yes."

"Knowing where your opponent's weight is."

"Yes."

Triple X smiled.

"Timing."

Zas nodded.

"Exactly."

Vince looked between them.

"So warrior training is basically wrestling with weapons."

"No."

Vince sighed.

"I was close."

"You were not."

Azamat laughed.

Zas continued.

"Some parts of the physical training can look similar. Particularly grappling and controlled fighting. When we train against each other, we're not trying to injure each other. We practise taking someone down, controlling them, escaping holds, maintaining balance- many of the same things you described."

Triple X nodded.

"…but that's only part of your training."

"Of course. We train with weapons. We train for patrols, difficult terrain, survival, observation, protecting other people. Different situations require different skills."

Vince nodded.

"…but if I put you in a wrestling ring, you've already got a head start."

Zas considered it.

"Physically, perhaps."

Triple X smiled.

"Physically is the easy part."

Vince looked at him.

"Easy?"

"Compared to teaching somebody how to work."

Zas frowned.

"Work?"

Triple X gestured toward Logan.

"Azamat knows how to take Logan down. That's not the same thing as knowing how to make ten thousand people believe he's trying to take Logan down while Logan helps him do it."

Azamat looked at Logan.

"I can actually take him down."

Logan looked up.

"We're gonna find out, apparently."

Vince was fascinated.

"So when you're actually fighting..."

He made a gesture with his hands.

"...you flip the switch."

Zas frowned.

"What switch?"

"You know."

Vince leaned forward.

"Training's over."

"Real fight."

"Kill mode."

The mood changed.

Subtly.

…but enough.

Zas shook his head.

"No."

Vince frowned.

"No?"

"Our objective isn't to kill someone."

"…but you're warriors."

"Yes."

"If someone attacks you-"

"We stop them."

Vince waited.

Zas continued.

"If they surrender, the fight is over."

"If they can be restrained, we restrain them."

"If they can be disarmed, we disarm them."

Vince looked genuinely surprised.

"So you don't go into battle thinking you're going to kill somebody?"

"No."

Azamat shook his head too.

Rahim answered more quietly.

"Death can happen."

Vince looked toward him.

Rahim continued.

"We understand that."

"So does the person opposing us."

"…but death is not the objective."

Zas nodded.

"Maybe centuries ago warriors thought differently."

"Many did."

"Standards change."

"Our purpose is protection."

"Not killing."

Vince absorbed that.

"That's..."

He searched.

"...actually interesting."

Semin finally spoke.

"You expected something else?"

Vince looked toward him.

Semin's expression remained flat.

Vince smiled.

"I expected warriors."

"You found them."

The smile disappeared slightly.

Aiden looked toward Semin.

Triple X quietly hid one of his own.

Vince nodded.

"Fair enough."

Then he made the mistake.

"So what was the biggest battle you've ever been in?"

Silence.

Zas looked down at his food.

Rahim's expression changed.

Ravi became even quieter.

Azamat stopped smiling.

Semin stared at Vince.

Vince noticed.

"Oh."

He looked around.

"Bad question?"

Zas took a moment.

"Not bad."

He looked toward Vince.

"Just not something we enjoy discussing."

Vince nodded.

"Okay."

Then, curiosity defeated him.

"…but you've got to have some incredible stories."

Semin leaned back.

"That is the problem."

Vince frowned.

Semin continued.

"Stories make battles sound incredible."

Rahim nodded.

"They remember courage."

"Victory."

"Someone doing something extraordinary."

Zas added-

"They don't always remember what it smelled like."

Vince became quiet.

"Or the sounds."

Azamat looked down.

"Or what you saw afterward."

Ravi finally spoke.

Softly.

"The bad parts stay longer."

Everyone looked toward him.

Ravi immediately seemed to regret becoming the centre of attention.

…but he continued.

"The good parts make better stories."

He shrugged.

"The bad parts make better memories."

Vince frowned.

"Better?"

Ravi shook his head.

"Stronger."

Zas nodded.

"Stories romanticize battle."

"They have for thousands of years."

He looked toward Vince.

"…but when you've actually been there..."

A pause.

"...there isn't much romance."

Vince nodded.

…and for once...

He didn't ask another question.

"Okay."

He returned to his food.

"I can respect that."

Semin's expression softened.

Barely.

But it did.

—

The silence lasted perhaps twenty seconds.

Then Vince was Vince again.

"So wrestling."

Zas sighed.

Triple X laughed.

Vince pointed around the table.

"Azamat's obvious."

Azamat smiled proudly.

"I will be champion."

Logan looked up.

"You haven't had a match."

"I know."

"You haven't trained with us."

"I know."

"You don't even work here."

"Yet."

Logan laughed.

Vince pointed toward Azamat.

"See?"

Then toward the others.

"What about you?"

Rahim shrugged.

"I would consider it."

Vince's eyes lit up.

"Really?"

"Consider."

"That's all I need."

Rahim laughed.

"No. That is all you have."

Vince pointed toward Ravi.

Ravi immediately looked uncomfortable.

"I..."

He glanced around the restaurant.

"...don't think so."

"Why?"

"People."

Vince frowned.

"People?"

"Watching."

Ravi looked toward the enormous dining room.

"I don't like being watched."

Logan smiled.

"Wrong business."

Ravi nodded.

"That's what I thought."

"Stage fright?"

Ravi nodded.

"Bad."

Vince considered him.

"That can be worked on."

"Maybe."

Then Vince looked toward Semin.

Semin already knew.

"No."

Vince blinked.

"I didn't ask yet."

"You were going to."

"Okay."

Vince smiled.

"Why not?"

Semin looked directly at him.

"I have no desire to become your cash cow."

Aiden looked down.

Triple X coughed into his fist.

Logan smiled into his drink.

Vince stared.

Then laughed.

"At least you're honest."

"I generally am."

"I like that too."

Semin looked unconvinced.

Then Vince turned.

Zas.

Joanna wasn't there to stop him.

Excellent.

"What about you?"

Zas shook his head.

"No."

"Come on."

"No."

"You haven't heard the pitch."

"I have heard several."

Vince frowned.

"Not from me."

"I have no interest in becoming a wrestler."

Triple X leaned forward.

"Coaching offer still stands."

Zas looked toward him.

"I remember."

"You'd be good at it."

"Perhaps."

Vince pointed.

"See?"

"That is coaching."

"Yeah, but once you're there..."

"No."

Vince laughed.

"You don't even want to try?"

Zas shook his head.

"I don't seek glory."

Vince's expression changed.

"It's not just glory."

"I know."

"Money."

"I know."

"Travel."

"I already travel."

"Fans."

"I don't want fans."

Vince looked almost personally wounded.

"You don't want fans?"

"No."

"Everybody wants fans."

"I don't."

Vince stared.

Zas continued.

"I don't enjoy spectacle."

Triple X smiled.

"I noticed."

Zas tugged slightly at his collar.

"Joanna had to convince me to wear this."

Vince looked at the suit.

"You look great."

"I know."

That made Logan laugh.

Zas frowned.

"I still don't like wearing it."

Vince sat back.

This was going to be difficult.

Which, naturally...

Made Vince want Zas more.

"Okay."

Zas eyed him suspiciously.

"Okay?"

"I'm not going to pressure you."

Semin looked at Vince.

Vince noticed.

"What?"

"I don't believe you."

Aiden laughed.

Vince ignored him.

"I'm serious."

He looked around at the Blue Shield.

"Here's what I want."

Everyone listened.

"Come with us."

Zas frowned.

"Where?"

"Combat Arts."

"We're already attending."

"No."

Vince shook his head.

"Not attending."

He pointed toward the restaurant floor as though an arena had suddenly materialized beneath them.

"Backstage."

That got their attention.

"Come on tour with us while you're in Rome."

"Don't just sit in the crowd."

"Come backstage."

"Watch the matches from behind the curtain."

"Watch training."

"Watch rehearsals."

"Watch producers put matches together."

"Watch people come through the curtain afterward."

"See medical."

"See wardrobe."

"See television."

"See how the whole machine works."

Triple X nodded.

"That's actually not a bad idea."

Vince looked offended.

"Why does everybody keep acting surprised when I have good ideas?"

Aiden picked up his drink.

"No reason."

Vince continued.

"I'm not asking anybody to sign anything."

He looked directly at Semin.

"Nobody becomes my cash cow."

Semin nodded.

"For now."

Vince smiled.

"For now."

Then back toward Zas.

"Watch."

"Learn."

"See what wrestling actually is."

"…and after you've seen it..."

He shrugged.

"...if you still don't want anything to do with it, fine."

Zas considered that.

That was different.

Observation.

Learning.

No commitment.

Rahim looked interested.

Ravi seemed considerably more comfortable with the idea of backstage than the idea of thousands of people watching him.

Even Semin didn't immediately reject it.

Azamat, meanwhile, looked ready to leave for the arena immediately.

"I accept."

Vince laughed.

"I wasn't worried about you."

Azamat smiled.

Vince pointed toward him.

"Because you're different."

Azamat frowned.

"How?"

Vince looked toward Logan.

Then back toward Azamat.

"You..."

His smile widened.

"...I've already got plans for."

Logan stopped chewing.

Azamat's eyes widened.

"What plans?"

Vince leaned back.

"After dinner."

Azamat looked toward Logan.

Logan looked toward Vince.

"Wait."

Vince smiled.

Logan pointed toward Azamat.

"You mean my after-dinner thing?"

"Yep."

"I said I'd see what he's got."

"Great."

"I didn't say I'd wrestle him on television."

Vince's smile grew.

"You didn't say you wouldn't."

Logan stared.

Azamat slowly began smiling.

Very widely.

Logan looked at him.

"Oh, don't do that."

Azamat leaned forward.

"I am coming for you."

Logan sighed.

"There it is again."

Vince laughed.

Then looked back toward Zas.

He wasn't going to push.

Not tonight.

He'd let Zas see backstage.

Let him watch.

Let him understand the business.

Let Triple X work on him.

Let Joanna work on him.

…and eventually...

Maybe.

Vince looked at Zas' shoulders again.

Zas noticed.

"No."

Vince immediately returned to his food.

"I didn't say anything."

"You were thinking."

Vince smiled.

Zas sighed.

Apparently parent brain wasn't the only brain at this table he needed to worry about.

Elara returned to the table looking considerably more composed than when she'd left it.

Her makeup had been repaired.

Her hair had been fixed.

Her jewelry was where jewelry presumably belonged.

…and although the scar on her neck was covered again...

She'd spent considerably less time worrying about it.

Eldred smiled as she sat beside him.

"Better?"

Elara nodded.

"Better."

A few moments later, Celine returned with Elara's replacement meal.

She carefully set it down.

"Let's try this."

Elara smiled.

"Thank you."

Celine disappeared toward another table.

Elara picked up her fork.

She tasted the meat.

Paused.

Then the vegetables.

Then some of the sauce.

Eldred watched.

Elara chewed.

Swallowed.

"Well?"

Elara tilted her head.

"It's better."

"Perfect?"

Elara looked at him.

"No."

Eldred laughed.

Elara frowned.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"There are still things I'd change."

"I know."

"The sauce-"

Eldred held up his hand.

"I'm sure the sauce has committed many crimes."

Elara glared.

"…but I'm eating it."

"Good."

Elara took another bite.

Eldred leaned toward her.

"You know..."

Elara immediately became suspicious.

"What?"

"When we finally rebuild the Palace..."

"Yes?"

"...I think Palace chef might be the hardest job in Aetheria to fill."

Elara stared.

Then stuck her tongue out at him.

Eldred laughed.

"There it is."

Elara frowned.

"What?"

"Is that going to be your thing?"

"What thing?"

He pointed toward her mouth.

"The tongue."

Elara stared.

Then deliberately stuck her tongue out again.

Eldred nodded.

"Apparently."

Elara returned to her food.

—

Zas looked toward the bathrooms.

Again.

Then toward Elara.

"Where is Joanna?"

"Still with Phoebe."

"…and Armintie?"

"Also with Phoebe."

Zas frowned.

"Is Phoebe all right?"

Elara nodded.

"They'll be fine."

Zas relaxed slightly.

Elara took another bite.

"The toilet..."

She hesitated.

"...maybe not so much."

Zas froze.

His fork stopped.

"What?"

Vince immediately laughed.

Zas looked toward him.

Vince pointed his fork at him.

"It's not your toilet."

Zas frowned.

"That doesn't make it better."

"It absolutely makes it better."

"It makes it someone else's problem."

"Exactly."

Zas stared.

Vince smiled.

"You're getting it."

Zas did not believe he was.

—

Several minutes later, Joanna returned.

Armintie followed.

Then Phoebe.

Zas stared.

Phoebe stopped.

"What?"

She was no longer wearing her dress.

Instead...

She wore a restaurant work uniform.

Plain trousers.

A buttoned shirt.

An apron.

Zas slowly lowered his fork.

"Where are your clothes?"

Phoebe looked down at herself.

"These are clothes."

"Your clothes."

Phoebe grimaced.

Armintie answered.

"Casualty."

Zas closed his eyes.

Joanna sat down.

"She's okay."

Zas opened them again.

"What happened?"

Phoebe looked embarrassed.

Joanna shook her head.

"Don't ask."

"I am her father."

"You can ask later."

Phoebe nodded emphatically.

"Much later."

Zas looked at Phoebe.

She looked tired.

Embarrassed.

…but otherwise...

Normal.

"Are you feeling better?"

Phoebe nodded.

"Yeah."

Zas relaxed.

"Good."

Phoebe sat down.

She carefully adjusted the borrowed uniform.

"I think they threw my dress into a bag."

Joanna nodded.

"They did."

"Can it be saved?"

Joanna hesitated.

"Maybe."

Armintie sat beside Phoebe.

"No."

Phoebe glared.

"You don't know."

"I saw it."

Phoebe sighed.

Arel-Sin looked toward his sister.

Then toward the tiny stain on his own sleeve.

He adjusted the napkin still protecting his chest.

Perhaps he'd been right all along.

—

Eventually Celine returned.

This time she carried several menus.

"All right."

She smiled.

"Who wants dessert?"

Every hand went up.

Even Zas'.

Celine laughed.

"Okay."

She began passing menus around.

One landed in front of Phoebe.

Phoebe immediately grabbed it.

Armintie immediately grabbed it from her.

Phoebe stared.

"Hey!"

"No."

"Give it back."

"No."

"It's mine."

"You just destroyed a dress."

"That has nothing to do with dessert."

"It has everything to do with dessert."

Phoebe reached.

Armintie pulled the menu farther away.

Joanna laughed.

"Wow."

Armintie looked toward her.

"What?"

"You became a parent."

Armintie stared.

"I don't need to be a parent to know Phoebe ordering dessert is a bad idea."

Phoebe folded her arms.

"I'm fine now."

Armintie stared at her.

Phoebe stared back.

Armintie glanced toward the bathrooms.

Phoebe's confidence weakened.

"I feel better."

"Good."

Armintie put the menu beside herself.

"Keep feeling better."

Phoebe frowned.

Joanna rubbed her shoulder.

"You can still get something."

Phoebe looked at her hopefully.

"Really?"

"To go."

Phoebe's face fell slightly.

"You can eat it later."

"How much later?"

"When your stomach stops plotting revenge."

Phoebe considered that.

"Okay."

Armintie returned the dessert menu.

Phoebe started looking.

Armintie immediately pointed at her.

"To go."

"I know!"

—

Arel-Sin studied his own menu.

His eyes moved down the page.

Stopped.

He frowned.

Then read the description again.

He raised his hand.

Celine noticed.

"Yes?"

Arel-Sin pointed.

"The chocolate lava cake."

"Yes?"

"Does it have actual lava?"

Silence.

Celine stared at him.

Arel-Sin looked completely serious.

"No."

Arel-Sin's expression fell.

"Oh."

Celine smiled.

"It's warm chocolate cake with melted chocolate inside."

"…but no lava."

"No lava."

"Why is it called lava cake?"

"Because the chocolate flows out like lava when you cut into it."

Arel-Sin considered this.

"So it resembles lava."

"Yes."

"…but isn't lava."

"Correct."

Arel-Sin looked disappointed.

Vince leaned toward him.

"Trust me, kid. You don't want actual lava."

Arel-Sin looked at him.

"Have you eaten lava?"

Vince paused.

"No."

"Then how do you know?"

Aiden slowly put his menu down.

Logan laughed.

Vince stared at Arel-Sin.

Then nodded.

"Fair point."

Arel-Sin returned to the menu.

He considered his options.

Then sighed.

"I'll have the chocolate lava cake."

Celine tapped it into her tablet.

"One chocolate lava cake."

Arel-Sin added-

"Without lava."

Celine smiled.

"Without lava."

"Thank you."

She moved on to the next order.

Arel-Sin leaned back.

The name was somewhat misleading.

Still...

Chocolate was chocolate.

…and this time-

He looked down at the napkin covering his chest.

Then the one covering his lap.

Then at the stain on his sleeve.

His hand slowly moved toward the garbage-bag poncho in his pocket.

Joanna saw him.

"Arel-Sin."

His hand stopped.

He sighed.

Dessert was dangerous.

Dessert went surprisingly well.

Mostly.

Arel-Sin sat staring down at his chocolate lava cake.

It looked beautiful.

A small round chocolate cake sat in the centre of the plate, dusted delicately with sugar and accompanied by berries and cream.

He cut into it.

Nothing happened.

Arel-Sin frowned.

He cut farther.

Still nothing.

He opened the cake.

It was simply...

Cake.

Arel-Sin stared.

Celine happened to be passing.

"Celine."

She stopped.

"Yes?"

"Where is the chocolate?"

She looked at the cake.

"It's chocolate cake."

"No."

Arel-Sin pointed into its tragically dry centre.

"The liquid chocolate."

Celine blinked.

"You asked for no lava."

"I asked for no lava."

"Yes."

"The volcanic substance."

Celine stared at him.

Arel-Sin stared back.

"You thought there was actual lava?"

"No. I asked if there was actual lava."

"…and I said no."

"Yes."

"So when you said no lava..."

"I meant I did not want volcanic lava."

Celine's lips twitched.

"…but I wanted the liquid chocolate."

Arel-Sin looked genuinely disappointed.

"That's the good part."

Celine covered her mouth.

"I'm sorry."

Phoebe laughed.

Armintie followed.

Joanna nearly folded over.

Even Zas smiled.

Celine took the plate.

"I'll get you another one."

"With liquid chocolate."

"Yes."

"…but no volcanic lava."

"Absolutely no volcanic lava."

"Thank you."

Arel-Sin nodded.

Vince watched her leave.

Then looked toward Aiden.

"We should call them molten chocolate cakes."

Aiden sighed.

"They already do."

Vince frowned.

"Then why didn't he order that?"

—

Eventually...

Everyone survived dessert.

Including Phoebe, whose dessert had been packed safely into a container for later consumption under Armintie's supervision.

The bill arrived.

Vince barely looked at it.

Aiden did.

His eyebrows rose.

Vince signed whatever needed signing.

WFE Accounting acquired another problem.

…and the enormous party finally began filtering outside.

Elara stopped near the entrance.

Celine was there.

The two women looked at each other.

Then immediately hugged.

No royal protocol.

No hesitation.

Celine squeezed her tightly.

"Thank you."

Elara shook her head against her shoulder.

"For what?"

"For tonight."

Elara pulled back.

"Celine..."

She held both of her hands.

"If you ever..."

Elara hesitated.

Then committed.

"If you ever need somewhere else to go..."

Celine frowned.

"...come to Aetheria."

Celine stared at her.

Elara squeezed her hands.

"I'm serious."

"We don't have much right now."

That was an understatement.

"…but if you come..."

Elara swallowed.

"...you'll be protected."

Celine's eyes filled.

Elara's did too.

"No one should have to spend their life running."

Celine hugged her again.

Elara held her.

"I can't promise everything."

She whispered it against Celine's shoulder.

"…but I can promise we'll try."

Celine nodded.

"That's enough."

Eventually they separated.

Celine wiped her eyes.

"Go be Queen."

Elara laughed.

"I'm trying."

"I know."

Elara smiled.

Then walked away.

—

"Azamat."

Azamat turned.

Logan Creed stood several metres away.

Jacket off.

Sleeves rolled.

A grin on his face.

"You ready?"

Azamat stared.

This was it.

He'd challenged Logan Creed.

Logan Creed had challenged him back.

Azamat had dreamed of opportunities like this.

Unfortunately...

His stomach had other ambitions.

Azamat grimaced.

"Not yet."

Logan laughed.

"What?"

"I ate."

"So did I."

"I ate too much."

Logan spread his arms.

"You've been staring holes through me all night."

"I know."

"Talking about stopping me."

"I will."

"…and now you're backing out?"

"I am postponing."

Logan smiled.

"Chicken."

Azamat's eyes widened.

"I am not chicken."

"Sounds like chicken."

Azamat stepped forward.

His stomach immediately objected.

He stopped.

Logan laughed.

Azamat pointed.

"Later."

"Sure."

"I will destroy you."

"When your tummy feels better?"

Azamat glared.

Vince stepped between them.

"All right."

Azamat tried looking around him.

"He called me chicken."

"Yeah, I heard."

Vince looked between the two men.

Then smiled.

"Actually..."

Everyone recognized that expression.

"I've got a better idea."

Triple X sighed.

"Of course you do."

Vince pointed toward Logan.

"You want to see what he's got?"

"Yeah."

Then Azamat.

"You want Logan?"

"Yes."

"Great."

Vince spread his arms.

"Let's do it properly."

Azamat frowned.

"How?"

"In a ring."

That immediately got him.

Vince continued.

"Arena's about an hour away."

Azamat looked down at his clothes.

"I need to change."

Zas immediately nodded.

"Yes."

Joanna looked at him.

Zas tugged at his collar.

"I also need to change."

Joanna laughed.

"Of course you do."

Vince checked his watch.

"All right."

He gave them the arena location.

"Everybody meet there in an hour and a half."

Azamat pointed toward Logan.

"Do not run away."

Logan laughed.

"I'll be there."

Azamat smiled.

The Blue Shield started departing with Joanna and the children.

Zas looked almost happier about removing his suit than Azamat was about fighting Logan Creed.

Soon...

Most of the party had gone.

…but not everyone.

Vince noticed Elara and Eldred were still there.

"You're not coming?"

Elara swallowed.

Here it was.

The reason she'd invited herself to this dinner in the first place.

"I'd like to travel with you."

Vince raised an eyebrow.

"Why?"

"We need to talk about Aetheria."

Vince's expression changed.

He knew exactly what that meant.

"Ah."

Elara straightened.

"The inheritance."

Vince sighed.

"The inheritance."

Aiden looked between them.

Eldred moved beside Elara.

Elara tried desperately to appear confident.

She wasn't.

…but after tonight...

She was getting better at pretending until the real thing arrived.

Vince gestured toward his limousine.

"All right."

—

Elara had never been inside a limousine before.

Apparently being Queen did not automatically make her the wealthiest person in every vehicle.

She sat opposite Vince.

Eldred beside her.

Aiden beside Vince.

The limousine pulled away.

Elara wasted little time.

"I want Aetheria's property back."

Vince smiled.

"I figured."

"I understand legally it isn't that simple."

"No."

"…and I understand you inherited it."

"Assuming there's anything left after the creditors finish."

Elara nodded.

That was the complication.

Havin had left Vince physical property.

Havin had also left behind enormous debts.

Nobody yet knew precisely what would survive once those obligations were settled.

"So..."

Elara took a breath.

"What are you willing to give back?"

Vince considered it.

"The animals."

Elara blinked.

"All of them?"

"I don't want horses in Aetheria."

Aiden nodded.

"Logistically sensible."

"Military equipment."

Elara looked surprised.

"Guns?"

"Vehicles. Whatever else is there."

"You don't want those?"

Vince stared at her.

"What am I gonna do with an Aetherian armoured vehicle?"

Eldred shrugged.

"Put a wrestling ring on it?"

Vince paused.

Aiden immediately intervened.

"No."

Vince looked at him.

"I didn't say anything."

"You thought something."

Vince returned to Elara.

"Point is, anything that requires me to actually run something in Aetheria..."

He shook his head.

"...I'm probably willing to discuss giving it back."

Elara relaxed slightly.

That was more than she'd expected.

"The government buildings?"

"Probably."

"The Palace?"

Vince hesitated.

Elara noticed.

"That one's different."

"Why?"

"Real estate."

Vince shrugged.

"I want it appraised."

Elara frowned.

"The Palace is barely standing."

"Then maybe I don't want it."

"…but you might."

"Depends what it's worth."

Elara nodded.

"Residences?"

"Same thing."

"Estates?"

"Appraise them."

Elara understood.

She didn't like it.

…but she understood.

Then-

"The crown."

"No."

Elara stopped.

"The sceptre?"

"No."

"The royal jewels?"

"No."

Elara stared.

Of all the things...

"Those are the things you want?"

"Absolutely."

"Why?"

Vince looked genuinely surprised that she needed to ask.

"It's a crown."

Elara blinked.

"Yes."

"I own a crown."

"You inherited a crown."

"Same result."

Elara looked toward Eldred.

Eldred was trying not to laugh.

Elara frowned at him.

Then looked back toward Vince.

"The crown is a symbol of the Aetherian state."

"I know."

"My crown."

"Technically-"

Aiden started.

Elara looked toward him.

Aiden reconsidered.

"...this should probably wait for legal."

"Thank you."

Vince smiled.

"I like the crown."

Elara stared at him.

"I need the crown."

"You've been Queen without it."

"That's not the point."

"I know."

Vince leaned back.

"That's why it's valuable."

Elara realized she'd found his no-go.

She'd expected it.

She just hadn't expected this to be it.

She took a breath.

Petraeus.

If you want something...

Offer something.

"What do you want?"

Vince raised an eyebrow.

"For it."

He smiled.

"Now we're talking."

Elara began thinking aloud.

"WFE can tour Aetheria."

Vince listened.

"When we're rebuilt."

"Obviously."

"You can hold a major event there."

Still listening.

"We could build an arena."

Vince's eyebrows rose slightly.

"Several arenas."

Eldred looked at her.

"Elara."

"Training centres."

Vince leaned back.

Elara kept going.

"Residences."

"What kind?"

"Luxury."

Vince smiled.

"For you."

She looked toward Aiden.

"Your family."

Aiden looked mildly impressed.

Elara's brain continued racing.

"What else?"

Vince said nothing.

Elara became increasingly desperate.

"I'll appear on your television."

Vince's eyes sharpened.

"I'll do publicity."

Elara swallowed.

"I'll..."

She glanced toward Eldred.

Then back.

"...hug one of your big, beefy, sweaty, stinky men."

Eldred slowly turned toward her.

Aiden's eyebrows rose.

Vince looked offended.

"Who are you calling sweaty and stinky?"

Aiden answered immediately.

"The wrestlers."

Vince looked at him.

"They are."

"That's not the point."

Elara continued.

"I'll kiss one."

Eldred's head turned farther.

"Elara."

"If necessary."

"Necessary for what?"

"The crown."

Vince was thoroughly entertained now.

Elara's face reddened.

"I'll do a romance storyline."

Eldred stared.

Elara refused to look at him.

"If I absolutely have to..."

She swallowed.

"...I'll have sex with one."

Eldred's mouth fell open.

Aiden stared out the window.

Vince stared at her.

Silence.

Then-

"Whoa."

Elara finally looked toward Eldred.

He was still staring.

"What?"

"What do you mean, what?"

"It's negotiation."

"That escalated very quickly."

"I want the crown."

"I know!"

Vince held up both hands.

"Okay."

He laughed.

"Nobody's asking you to sleep with anybody."

Elara relaxed.

Eldred relaxed considerably more.

Vince thought.

"A storyline..."

Elara immediately tensed again.

"...maybe."

Eldred sighed.

"…but we're nowhere near that."

Vince leaned back.

"I need lawyers."

Aiden nodded.

"Many lawyers."

"I need to know exactly what I inherited."

"Correct."

"What survives the debts."

"Correct."

"What everything's worth."

"Correct."

Vince looked toward Elara.

"Then we talk."

Elara nodded.

That was reasonable.

Not victory.

Not defeat.

Progress.

She looked toward Aiden.

Then Vince.

The limousine itself.

The assistants.

The legal teams.

Accountants.

Producers.

Executives.

People everywhere.

"You have a lot of people."

Vince smiled.

"Yeah."

Elara looked toward Eldred.

"We don't."

Eldred nodded.

"Not yet."

Elara turned back toward Vince.

"That's another problem."

"What?"

"Havin's debts."

Vince's smile faded.

Elara continued.

"You need to know who he owed money to."

"So do we."

"Yes."

"We need to know which assets are actually available."

"So do you."

"Yes."

"We need appraisals."

"So do you."

"Yes."

Elara leaned forward.

"Then why are we doing it separately?"

Aiden looked toward Vince.

Vince considered it.

Elara continued.

"You have lawyers."

"You have accountants."

"You have investigators."

"People who know how to find things."

She gestured toward herself and Eldred.

"We're trying to build all of that."

Eldred nodded.

"Basically from nothing."

Elara continued.

"So..."

She took a breath.

"Let's work together."

Vince listened.

"Find Havin's creditors."

"Find the debts."

"Determine what belongs to the estate."

"Determine what survives."

"Determine what the state has a legitimate claim to."

"Then..."

She shrugged.

"...we fight about the crown."

Vince laughed.

"I like that."

Elara smiled.

"So you'll do it?"

Vince looked toward Aiden.

Aiden considered the proposal.

"It makes sense."

Vince nodded.

"All right."

Elara blinked.

"Really?"

"Really."

Vince held out his hand.

"We cooperate on sorting out Havin's mess."

Elara looked at his hand.

Then took it.

"…and after that?"

"We negotiate."

"The crown included?"

Vince smiled.

"The crown included."

Elara shook his hand.

"Deal."

Vince released it.

Elara sat back.

Her heart was pounding.

She hadn't recovered the crown.

Or the sceptre.

Or the jewels.

Or the Palace.

She hadn't even established exactly what Vince would ultimately inherit.

…but...

She had something.

A framework.

Cooperation.

Access to expertise Aetheria desperately lacked.

…and a path toward negotiation.

Petraeus had told Eldred that diplomacy meant understanding that if you wanted something...

You had to offer something.

Elara was beginning to understand the other half.

Sometimes you didn't yet know what the final exchange would be.

You just had to give both sides a reason to keep talking.

Vince looked out the window.

Then back toward her.

"By the way."

Elara looked at him.

"If we ever do put you in a wrestling storyline..."

Eldred groaned.

Vince smiled.

"...we're not calling you Queen Elara."

Elara frowned.

"Why not?"

"Too obvious."

"What would you call me?"

Vince thought.

Aiden immediately shook his head.

"Don't."

Vince ignored him.

Elara waited.

Vince smiled.

"I'll come up with something."

Elara suddenly wondered whether surrendering the crown might have been easier.

By the time everyone reached the arena...

The dinner clothes had largely disappeared.

Azamat had changed into something considerably more useful.

Loose trousers.

A shirt he could move in.

Proper shoes.

Logan Creed had done much the same.

…and Zas...

Joanna stared at him.

"You changed."

"Yes."

"I noticed."

Zas looked down at his ordinary clothes.

"I am comfortable."

"You looked good in the suit."

"I was uncomfortable."

"You can look good and be uncomfortable."

Zas frowned.

"Why would I want to?"

Joanna smiled and sighed.

There was no defeating that logic.

Arel-Sin, meanwhile, had kept his suit.

He stood beneath one of the arena lights, examining his sleeve.

The stain remained.

Small.

Barely noticeable.

Unacceptable.

He rubbed at it again.

Joanna noticed.

"You're going to make it worse."

Arel-Sin stopped.

He stared at the stain.

"I should have worn the poncho."

Joanna walked away.

Armintie still had her dress.

Phoebe...

Did not.

She was still dressed like restaurant staff.

Azamat looked at her.

"Are you working here now?"

"No."

"Because you look-"

"Don't."

Azamat stopped.

Phoebe folded her arms.

Her stomach, thankfully, had ceased its rebellion.

That was enough victory for one evening.

—

The arena itself was empty.

Mostly.

Vince's entourage had come.

The Blue Shield.

Joanna and the children.

A few WFE personnel who'd been around the building anyway.

Nobody had bought a ticket.

Nobody had expected a show.

…but everyone seemed to understand...

Something was about to happen.

Azamat climbed into the ring.

He bounced lightly on his feet.

Touched the ropes.

Looked around.

A real WFE ring.

He smiled.

Then Logan Creed climbed through the ropes.

Azamat's smile disappeared.

Game time.

Logan rolled his shoulders.

"All right."

Azamat stared.

"All right."

Logan smiled.

"You wanted this."

"I did."

"You still want it?"

Azamat stepped closer.

"Yes."

Logan nodded.

"Show me what you've got."

They circled.

Triple X watched from ringside.

Vince stood beside him.

Joanna had taken a seat near Zas and the children.

Rahim, Ravi and Semin stood nearby.

The first contact came quickly.

Logan moved in.

Azamat caught him.

Turned.

Hooked the body.

…and drove Logan onto the mat.

Hard.

Logan's eyes widened.

Azamat immediately followed him down.

Grabbed an arm.

Shifted his weight.

Tried controlling the shoulder.

Logan escaped.

Rolled away.

Got back to his feet.

Azamat smiled.

"Again."

Logan stared at him.

Then smiled too.

"Okay."

They locked up again.

Azamat drove forward.

Logan gave ground.

Azamat shifted.

Hooked a leg.

Logan went down again.

Azamat followed.

This time Logan immediately twisted free.

Both men stood.

Azamat's smile grew.

He looked toward Zas.

Zas remained expressionless.

Mostly.

Azamat looked toward Vince.

Vince looked fascinated.

Then back toward Logan.

"You win all the time?"

Logan laughed.

"Usually."

Azamat beckoned.

"Come."

Logan did.

Another engagement.

Azamat attacked.

Logan defended.

Azamat changed direction.

Logan tried to turn with him.

Azamat caught his balance.

Swept the leg.

Down again.

Azamat backed away.

He spread his arms.

The imaginary crowd in his head was roaring.

Logan slowly stood.

He wasn't smiling anymore.

Not because he was angry.

Because something had finally clicked.

Triple X noticed it.

"So did he."

Vince looked at him.

"What?"

Triple X nodded toward the ring.

"Logan thought they were wrestling."

Vince frowned.

"Aren't they?"

"No."

Inside the ring, Logan stared at Azamat.

Azamat raised his hands.

Ready.

Logan rolled his neck.

Then raised his own.

Azamat moved.

Logan met him.

…and suddenly-

Everything changed.

Azamat tried the same entry.

Logan stuffed it.

Azamat pushed.

Logan pivoted.

Azamat lost his balance.

Logan hooked him.

Turned.

…and Azamat hit the mat.

Azamat blinked.

Logan backed away.

"Again."

Azamat immediately stood.

This time Azamat charged harder.

Logan met him.

The struggle became uglier.

Less graceful.

More physical.

Azamat managed to force Logan backward.

Logan caught him.

They stumbled into the ropes.

Logan twisted.

Azamat broke free.

Both men separated.

Azamat stared.

"Better."

Logan laughed.

"Yeah."

Azamat narrowed his eyes.

"Why?"

"Because now I know what we're doing."

Azamat frowned.

"You did not before?"

"I thought you wanted to wrestle."

"I do."

Logan shook his head.

"No."

He pointed toward Azamat.

"You came here to fight."

Azamat considered that.

Then smiled.

"Yes."

Logan nodded.

"Okay."

He raised his hands again.

"Now I know."

Azamat came forward.

This time...

Logan did too.

—

The next exchange nearly sent both of them through the ropes.

Logan caught Azamat around the body.

Azamat widened his stance.

Logan tried moving him.

Couldn't.

Azamat hooked his leg.

Logan adjusted.

Azamat tried again.

Logan drove forward.

They separated.

Immediately came together again.

Neither man gave much.

Neither seemed particularly interested in giving anything.

Vince's eyes widened.

"Where the hell did that come from?"

Azamat finally broke away.

He was breathing harder now.

So was Logan.

Azamat smiled.

"You are wrestler."

"Yep."

"You fight well."

Logan wiped sweat from his forehead.

"Thanks."

Azamat frowned.

"…but not like warrior."

Logan laughed.

"Okay."

Azamat beckoned again.

"Come."

Logan didn't move.

Instead-

"You know I was in the Army, right?"

Azamat paused.

"What?"

"The American Army."

Azamat stared.

"Seven years."

Logan raised his hands again.

"Five with the Amazons."

Azamat's expression changed.

Phoebe's eyebrows rose.

Even Zas looked more interested.

Joanna smiled because she already knew about that.

Azamat stared at Logan.

"The Amazons?"

"Yep."

One of the world's elite fighting units.

Azamat slowly smiled.

A very different smile this time.

"Oh."

Logan smiled back.

"Yeah."

Azamat rolled his shoulders.

"Good."

Logan laughed.

"That's your reaction?"

"Yes."

Azamat stepped forward.

"Good."

Then he attacked.

—

Whatever this had originally been...

It wasn't wrestling practice anymore.

Nor was it a battlefield.

There were no weapons.

No intention to seriously injure.

No attempt to prove who could kill whom.

It was something between worlds.

Two highly trained men testing each other.

Balance.

Leverage.

Strength.

Conditioning.

Instinct.

Control.

Logan caught Azamat.

Azamat escaped.

Azamat took Logan down.

Logan reversed him.

Logan tried controlling Azamat's arm.

Azamat rolled through.

Both men scrambled upright.

They collided again.

Azamat drove Logan toward the corner.

Logan shifted at the last moment.

Azamat hit the turnbuckles.

Logan grabbed him.

Azamat twisted free.

They separated.

Breathing heavily.

Nobody at ringside spoke.

Even Vince.

Phoebe leaned forward.

Armintie watched intently.

Arel-Sin had finally stopped staring at the stain on his suit.

Semin's arms remained folded.

…but even he looked impressed.

Rahim smiled.

Ravi quietly winced every time someone hit the mat.

Joanna looked toward Zas.

Zas' eyes never left the ring.

Then-

The faintest smile.

Joanna saw it.

She nudged him.

Zas looked at her.

"You like this."

"No."

Joanna smiled.

"You smiled."

"I did not."

"You absolutely smiled."

Zas returned his attention to the ring.

Another hint appeared at the corner of his mouth.

Joanna grinned.

She let him have this one.

—

Azamat was tiring.

So was Logan.

That became obvious.

The movements slowed.

Not dramatically.

…but enough.

Azamat's breathing became deeper.

Logan's shoulders rose and fell.

Sweat poured from both men.

Still...

Neither stopped.

Azamat attacked.

Logan countered.

They struggled.

Azamat nearly got him down.

Logan recovered.

Logan tried turning Azamat.

Azamat planted himself.

They broke.

Stumbled apart.

Then immediately raised their hands again.

Triple X finally spoke.

"They've made the point."

Vince nodded.

For once...

He agreed.

Inside the ring, Logan moved forward.

Azamat met him.

They locked together.

Pushed.

Neither moved.

Pushed harder.

Still nothing.

Then-

Both simply stopped.

Azamat looked at Logan.

Logan looked at Azamat.

Neither had anything left worth proving.

Logan laughed first.

Azamat followed.

They released each other.

Azamat bent over, hands on his knees.

Logan leaned against the ropes.

Both gasped for air.

Vince called from ringside.

"Who's winning?"

Logan raised one hand.

One finger.

Then pointed toward Vince.

"Shut up."

Vince laughed.

Azamat eventually straightened.

He walked toward Logan.

Logan pushed himself away from the ropes.

For a moment...

They simply stood facing each other.

Then Azamat extended his arm.

Logan took it.

Azamat pulled him inward.

The handshake became an embrace.

Hard.

Mutual.

The sort of embrace between men who had just spent far too long trying to put each other on the floor.

They separated.

Logan nodded.

Azamat nodded back.

Then Azamat looked around the empty arena.

He remembered himself.

The imaginary audience.

He turned toward one side of the building.

…and bowed theatrically.

Logan stared.

Then laughed.

He walked beside Azamat.

Turned toward the opposite side.

…and bowed too.

Joanna applauded.

Phoebe joined her.

Armintie followed.

Arel-Sin clapped enthusiastically.

Rahim did too.

Ravi smiled.

Even Semin offered several claps.

Vince applauded louder than everyone.

Triple X shook his head.

Zas...

Clapped.

Slowly.

Azamat saw him.

His smile became enormous.

—

Later...

Logan sat on the ring apron drinking water.

Azamat stood nearby.

Also drinking.

Neither looked particularly interested in moving anytime soon.

Azamat looked toward him.

"Logan."

"Yeah?"

"I respect you."

Logan smiled.

"Thanks."

"No."

Azamat shook his head.

"More than before."

Logan looked at him.

"I thought you were only a wrestler."

Logan laughed.

"Only a wrestler?"

"You know what I mean."

"I do."

Azamat sat beside him.

"You are very good."

"So are you."

Azamat nodded.

"I know."

Logan laughed.

Azamat took another drink.

Then looked toward the arena.

"I understand now why you win all the time."

Logan nodded.

"Good."

A pause.

Azamat looked at him.

Then smiled.

"…but..."

Logan sighed.

"There it is."

Azamat pointed toward him.

"I am taking the Crown."

Logan stared.

Azamat's smile widened.

"The Imperial Crown."

"I know which Crown."

"You have had it enough."

Logan laughed.

"So that whole fight taught you nothing?"

"It taught me many things."

"Apparently humility wasn't one."

Azamat stood and laughed.

He pointed toward Logan.

"Round Two."

Logan looked up at him.

Then smiled.

"Looking forward to it."

Azamat held out his hand.

Logan took it.

This time...

No misunderstanding.

No strange glare across a dinner table.

No fanboy trying desperately to pretend he wasn't a fan.

Just respect.

…and a challenge that both men now understood.

Across the arena...

Vince watched them.

Silent.

Triple X stood beside him.

"You've got that look again."

Vince didn't take his eyes off Azamat.

"What look?"

"The one where somebody's life is about to get considerably more complicated."

Vince smiled.

"Azamat versus Logan Creed."

Triple X nodded.

"Eventually."

Vince looked toward him.

"Eventually?"

"Tonight proved Azamat can fight Logan."

Triple X pointed toward the ring.

"It didn't prove he can work Logan."

Vince's smile faded slightly.

He remembered the dinner conversation.

Physical ability was one thing.

Professional wrestling was another.

Then the smile returned.

"Fine."

Triple X became suspicious.

"What?"

"We teach him."

Triple X sighed.

Of course.

Vince looked toward Azamat again.

The warrior was still talking to Logan.

Still smiling.

Still probably imagining himself wearing the Imperial Crown.

Vince folded his arms.

Dinner had been expensive.

Very expensive.

…but...

WFE Accounting might have accidentally made one hell of an investment.