Priceless sat across from the master of coin at the mayor’s desk, and made the order simple. “Find the missing funds.” To the ‘relative’ credit of the scrawny, aged, thinly bearded master of coin, he did not pretend ignorance.

Priceless touched the purple tag and played with it unconsciously, reassuring herself as her soft brown eyes looked over the man with great pity. He took book after book out of the cabinet, going through records of all kinds, before he glanced at a guard, and she saw a smile on his face.

“Voice of the Duchessa, I believe I know where the funds went.” He said, and he began tossing books aside, they landed with hard thuds on the wooden floor, behind her, Priceless felt the squeeze of Kaiji’s hand on her shoulder.

‘She is proud of me. If she is, then the mistress will be also.’ It was a warm feeling to be sure, but she said nothing, only waited until the waifish old man took up a thin book from the stack and opened it up.

“Ah, Voices of the Duchessa, before I explain… have you ever tracked an embezzler before?” He asked in an excited voice that suggested he was, of all things, enjoying himself.

Priceless and Kaiji traded a questioning look, then Priceless lowered her face away from her lover, looked at him, and shook her head. “I have seen bad bookkeeping, but not that.”

“No.” The demon-elf admitted, “I had subordinates to look at that, I know ‘what’ to look for, but have never sought it out myself.”

“The best way…” he rubbed his hands enthusiastically, “if you’re going to embezzle funds, is to do so through disposable means that are readily explicable expenses. For example,” he pointed to the guard still stationed at the door, “his armor needs to be repaired. So you pay for repairs… but what if you don’t do that. What if you mark that you paid for repairs and pocket the coin? What if you offer a token sum to a blacksmith to certify it was done when it wasn’t? They get easy money, with no work to go with it. What if you pay for new uniforms that are never produced, let alone delivered? What if you say… buy food, but overstate how much and pocket the difference?”

Kaiji looked over to the guard, “How many meals do you eat per day?”

“T-Two…” The confused and surprised guard replied, shifting on his feet.

“When was the last time your armor was repaired after training?” Priceless chimed in, leaning back in her chair, certain that their master of coin had found more of the missing funds… in a manner of speaking.

“Ah, twice a year.” He stammered from his place at the door.

“It should be happening after every exercise. There’s also supposed to be enough food purchased to feed them three times per day.” The master of coin stood up slowly, shakily, and he leaned his wrinkled, aged hands on the desk as he spoke to the emissaries of their mistress. “I believe… if we look at all the service based actions, in addition to ‘rounding off’ the tax rolls, we will find that public services have been skimmed from, perhaps for years.”

“Well done, Master of Coin but… how did you not know this before our coming?” Kaiji asked pointedly, and the old man paled.

“I collect taxes… recommend a budget, but… but I have no authority, and these records, well, they’re kept in the mayor’s office, I could only see what she allowed.” He stammered out defensively, and barely held back a sigh of relief when the purple tagged slaves visibly relaxed.

“That makes sense…” Kaiji remarked, drew the comment out and absently placed her hand on the desk, she began to drum her fingers while she thought.

Finally Kaiji gave her order. “Arrest the mayor’s family, audit their accounts, and anyone who is found to have profited from the corruption, sell all their goods, including their homes, strip them of any titles and licenses, then imprison them. When our work crews arrive, she and all those guilty should be sold at cost to the crews. The stolen goods recouped should be redistributed to the neglected citizens of this town. If any of her criminal relatives have children…”

Priceless reached out and touched Kaiji’s hand. It gave the merciless Majordomo a moment of thought when she turned her blood red eyes down to the gentle brown of her lover.

‘What would you do to me…?’ She mouthed the phrase, reminding Kaiji of her history, and the Majordomo closed her eyes for a moment.

When she opened them, she went on to the Master of Coin. “Have the children dispatched to the estate of Nua Calen Aiwenor.”

“But… but I am just the master of coin. I can’t…” The old man stammered again and Kaiji’s finger drumming on the desk resumed, chilling him to silence.

“Not anymore. You’re the new mayor. For now. You may be replaced and allowed to retire after our lady returns, but you’re the best qualified person at the present… because you know exactly what will happen if the problem of corruption is not resolved. Send word to the estate of the Duchessa if you need support and you will have it.” Kaiji said and rested a hand on Priceless’s shoulder.

“Get to work… Mayor.” Kaiji replied, and from there the pair left the office.

Sitting across from Diana, Sado was going through the primer Solution had given to him. The carriage rolled along with relative smoothness, and he paid Diana no mind while it did.

The otherworldly weapon of beauty sat with her arm upon the window and watching the passing scenery rush by, like it was nobody’s business. Her slender pale skin was not on brazen display, if anything, she was dressed very conservatively.

She glanced in his direction several times in a row, but it wasn’t until the coachman stopped to relieve himself by the roadside that she spoke up. “Well?” She asked in her lyric voice.

“Well what, Diana?” Sado asked, looking up from where he was busy writing the alphabet of the strange foreign language.

“You haven’t flirted with me even once.” Diana said in a mildly offended voice. “We used to have fun…”

“Did you forget your offer to… what was it? Oh yes, ‘bring me down’ or something like that?” Sado remarked pointedly and set his quill down to look at her directly.

She waved it away, “So what? Never screwed somebody while you were angry with them? You’re missing out.” She winked at him with a playful smile. “You remember that marquis who tried to gain the fortune from that merchant? That’s what got him going.”

Sado shook his head, “No, only that Kaiji mentioned they needed to be hanged. You did the legwork on that, did you?”

“Well, I ‘did’ use my legs, but that wasn’t really the focus.” She covered her ruby lips with her hand when letting out her ribald laugh. “That was an easy job, but you know, you and I had fun once or twice. I know you haven’t forgotten me, Prince of Chains.” She grinned at him. “You could try ‘ordering’ me again. You know how much fun that game was.”

Sado looked at her blankly. “The Prince is dead. I have no eyes for you anymore, Diana.”

“The Lady Solution… no…” Diana looked him over, down at the book in his lap and the paper he wrote on… “no, you’re not serious.”

He stared at her through empty eyes, but said nothing. He waited for her laughter.

She did not laugh, not even a titter. “Have you gone utterly mad? Have you lost your mind? That’s the Duchessa you’re thinking about, by now word of her wealth and ties to Rasgen and the death of Bracer and… assuming she returns, her venture into Tlalmok territory, it’ll be everywhere… she’ll be the marriage prize of a century. Every eligible Prince of the six will be sending offers of marriage…”

“I know.” He said and crossed his arms defensively.

“You’re a slave.” Diana replied, crossing her arms the same way and snapping her head in a sharp nod as if that settled it, and in a way, to her, it had.

“I know that, too.” Sado answered. “Prince of Chains, remember?”

“She’s bound to marry up, Prince Rasgen, or even someone like Prince Yanmelu, I guess Isaura is out since they need heirs but… there aren’t many options, are there?” Diana thought out loud, “Not for someone like that.”

“No, not really. I’m not a Prince anymore, but my former title still has value, she wants Komestra, I can give her legitimacy in reestablishing it. Besides, out of all the Princes, who do you think is best fit… present circumstances aside, to sit beside her?” Sado said with stubborn determination.

Diana rubbed the bridge of her nose, “At first glance, I will admit you have… common ground. Present circumstances aside, but I’ll warn you Sado, don’t push your luck. The last time you did that… well, what was Kaiji doing when you saw her again after getting to Pas’en?”

Sado paled as he recalled seeing the proud demon-elf that had guided Komestra for generations, kissing the feet of the cruel eyed Duchessa. “I will take that under advisement. All I ever wanted was the best for our people, all of us, all the cities, as much as for my own.”

“It’s a big dream, Prince Sado…” Diana said passively. “Back when I was in the pens before the auction, I managed to get enough food to feed my entire lot, I ended up with a full belly as a result, but I couldn’t help everyone. Trying would have just destroyed me. Don’t overreach yourself, I mean that… you weren’t a bad Prince, just a bigger dreamer than our world could handle. The world eats those.” The carriage resumed rolling forward, and she resumed watching the landscape pass her by.

“You may be right, but I’m not the only dreamer who dreams that big, and I know I’m not alone in that, not anymore. Besides, dreamers can bite back.” He replied, and went back to paying attention to his primer while the carriage rolled farther and farther east, towards the city of Hanak’sen, home of Prince Yanmelu.

Lenah, Veema, and Straen walked the long halls of the manor, little time remained to change into their work clothes, but there was something that had to be done. Something Veema demanded that they settle.

The reluctant pair accepted her hands holding theirs and pulling them all the way to the office of the monster. The long hall passed swiftly beneath their feet as they half walked, half ran to the place the blonde maid seemed to work and act with total impunity. Veema’s face was screwed tight with determination, her eyes unblinking and her steps hard and as heavy as a small child’s could be.

Behind her, Lenah and Straen traded frequent looks, uncertain ones for the most part, but neither had it within themselves to completely yank their hands away, and if they were honest, the same thought ran through their heads, ‘What if she’s telling the truth?’ It was a curiously hopeful thought, and one that helped propel them along while also minimizing their resistance.

So after several minutes, they found themselves standing at the large richly carved oaken door stained a dark wine red like old blood. Veema pounded on it with her tiny fist barely two feet above the handle, and the silken voice of an absolute predator responded...

“Enter.”

Veema dragged the two in, and when they knelt, she also did, despite not strictly having to do so. Solution looked up from her reading to see the three little pairs of eyes and motionless mouths. “Well, what?” Solution demanded abruptly.

“Lady Solution, you always tell the truth, right?” Veema asked in her best grown up voice.

This had the monster’s ear, she bookmarked her page, closed the book, set it on the desk, then folded her hands together with fingers interlocked overtop of it. Giving them the sort of smile only a monster in disguise could give, she answered, “Of course. The truth is the greatest of all weapons when you want to hurt someone. The wounds of the body heal, the wounds of the soul, are there till the end of time.”

“So… yes.” Lenah and Straen said together.

“Then tell them the truth! That my mom asked for them, that my mom wanted them.” Veema demanded, her little fists held tight over her bended knee.

Solution leaned back in her chair so that it hit the wall and propped her feet up on the desk. “Are you sure you want to know the answer to that?” Her sadistic smile said enough.

“So… that is a no… we told you, she didn’t want us, she was nice to us because our owner made her do it.” Lenah and Straen spoke as one, and rose to go.

“The opposite actually.” Solution said with a bemused, cruel wide smile, the twins stopped and turned half way around.

“Your owner ‘did’ assign you two to Veema’s mother. That much is true, but… Mistress Aiwenor was going to take you both away from her when you’d been returned here. But Freyjin tried to argue, so the mistress told her to fight if she wanted you so badly. It was fun to watch.”

Veema blinked in horror, recalling a single meaty fist that slammed into her own eye.

“She stood between your owner and you, she flung her fists, tried to tackle the Duchessa… but if you saw what Nua did to Bracer, well, you can guess how well that went. She beat your mother to a pulp, Veema, I could hear every crack of bone, every cry of pain while she was torn apart to keep those two.” Solution pointed to the white haired twins. “At one point I honestly thought she’d kill the woman.”

Three throats swallowed independently forming lumps.

“In a minute, she turned that healthy strong elf into a bloody mess, and it was all Freyjin could do to cling to Nua’s foot from down in the bloody ground to keep her owner from taking one step forward, and then…?” Solution’s eyes sparkled as she held their rapt attention, she snapped her fingers.

“It was done, Freyjin proved that she would fight for the little pair, proved she would die rather than lose them… which to my student’s mind, was good enough. Let me guess… the two of you tormented her, mocked her affections maybe? I’ll bet the heartbreak on her face was precious…” Solution began to laugh, and waved them toward the door, “Run along now, I’ve answered your questions, and I’d love to finish my book.”

Three pairs of feet could not run fast enough to satisfy those to whom they belonged.

‘I think that will set them all on a very… very useful path from here.’ Solution thought with her happy monster smile out in force as she opened up her book again.

The various ministers around the table looked aghast at their Prince. “I’m sorry… but, ah, My Prince…” General Leaman said with a slow half stammer. “Did you declare your intent to marry that foreign gash…”

Prince Rasgen brought his fist down hard on the table and glared at the General. “I will say this once… and only once. Do not speak of her that way! That ‘gash’ rode alone into Tlalmok territory. That ‘gash’ is taking care of and protecting Sobella right now. That ‘gash’ has put her own coin into building Pasenian villages and towns. That ‘gash’ brought down Bracer, one of the three great smugglers, and did it while outnumbered eight to one. What exactly does she have to do for you to refer to her by more than what lies between the thighs, General Leaman?!”

The old general was startled by the suddenly vocal Prince, and he blinked like a deer searching for a suspected hunter.

“My Prince…” General Leaman said in a more humble voice. “She’s a foreigner… she can’t be trusted to give a damn about this city, or you, or anyone. It is true that she rode into the Tlalmok Empire but she did so not knowing what she was riding into. It’s easy to face danger in ignorance. And her money? Her money is going into ‘her’ domains. I don’t trust her habit of buying up Komestrans either. Marrying… her?” He shook his head, “My Prince, I’ve known you all your life, bringing her into your bed is a disaster, let us go to the other city states, Isaura isn’t married, and for that matter some of the Princes of the nearer minor city states have eligible daughters… please…”

Prince Rasgen relaxed the tension in his fist. ‘Not knowing what she’s riding into? Well, she may not have experienced the Tlalmok before, but a briefing should have been enough.’ Rasgen thought, then swept his gaze over the rest of them. “Do you all feel the same?” He asked with a thoughtful eye.

A round of quiet nods welcomed him.

“I see…” He slumped, “Gentlemen, before my Sobella rode away, she told me to marry well, have good children, and she asked that I name one after her if I were blessed with a girl. I do need heirs, I know that. I hadn’t expected the stern objections to our new Duchessa. I suppose it would be foolish of me to dismiss your fears so hastily.”

Small smiles formed on faces that sweated profusely down many old white beards. Prince Rasgen chose to go on, his voice at a royal pitch, set to convince his ministers in such a way that they would at the very least ‘occupy’ themselves. “Alright, the Duchessa should, assuming all goes well, return within a few weeks. Before she does, send out invitations to the other city states. This reshuffling of the balance of power might be good for us all, let them know I am seeking a bride. The ones who send no one, we can safely say at least they will be against us in the years ahead.”

Rumbles of agreement and discussions had already begun before his final sentence, but Rasgen’s mind was elsewhere.

“Also, I want to know something. But it must be done discreetly, given the circumstances.” He set his feet flat on the floor and leaned forward, their chatter stopped for the moment, “First, does anyone here actually believe Lodira killed Ulmin? Anyone?” Rasgen looked around the room from face to face, and saw no thoughts of the kind.

Rasgen’s heart ached to ask, but he did it anyway, “Then can I ask for one of you to have someone look in on her? I want to know that she is safe, that she is well. It doesn’t have to be right now, just some time in the weeks ahead, when things have settled down a little?”

Minister Barsam stroked his skinny beard. “I’ll do that for you, my Prince… I’ve been the minister of justice for more of my life than not. I know politics is what it is and the city comes before everything. But like her or not, I’d know if she were capable of that, and that girl is as innocent… of that at least, as a newborn babe. I have friends in her home city, I can write a letter and have someone quietly look in on her… quietly.”

“I would be grateful, thank you.” Prince Rasgen replied with a gentle nod of his head.