“It’s so good to speak again!” said Heyra, sipping from a cup of hot chocolate. She still had some noise in her voice, but overall she was much better.

“And take a real bath and dressing in fresh clothes!” continued the idea Feyra. “Clothes which don’t smell of campfire smoke!”

“I hope you appreciate the good company too!” added Missy, who was sitting next to them on the coach of the tea-room.

They had turned around the Ohstian nobles without incident and entered the capital from the north. Diago knew a secret password and had some authentic fake identity papers made by the Embassy.

When they reached the Ambassador’s house, a few hours later, the one who opened the door was none other than Missy. After fifteen minutes of: It’s you? Yes, it’s us! You look so fit and tan! You look good too! You lose at least five pounds! Hrr, hrr, hrr! Oh my, what happened to you, Heyra? and a lot of other small-talk, they had been escorted to guest rooms, then Missy sent a messenger to bring her father, he was out to the Parliament.

The girls had bathed for an hour, dressed in new clothes her friend had provided - which were a little on the shorter and smaller size, but beggars cannot be choosers - then reunited with their host to have a quick lunch and some deserts.

In that time, the boys had taken a shower, all three in ten minutes put all together, and took a nap. Diago was the exception; he went out with some undisclosed business of his own.

About two hours after their arrival, the Ambassador returned and entered the tea-room, followed by Lau and Istainn. He kissed the princesses' hands, and all sat around the coffee table, and then the girls began to tell the story of their adventures.

Meanwhile, the spy looked around at the pale yellow strips of the wallpaper, making a note to himself never to hire a d’Ornian decorator, if ever he would have the money to hire a decorator. Lau was oblivious to the decor and assaulted sandwiches and cookie plates, finishing one plate by himself in under one minute.

“Hey, you ogre, leave me some cookies!” protested the spy, but it was too late.

A servant had brought a bottle of fine liquor and small glasses, and the Ambassador toasted.

“To our reunion! Prosit!”

“To the health of those who saved us!” added Heyra, rising her glass toward the spy and the archer.

“And to those who gave us good advice!” toasted Feyra to the Ambassador.

“For friendship and victory!” added Missy.

“This is a splendid liquor!” observed Istaìnn, licking his lips. “I’d say it is d’Ornian apple cognac, seven years old.”

“Good guess, sir!” complimented the host. “So, I hear you are a sorcerer. That’s most impressive. I thought magic was a thing of legend!”

“I couldn’t do any more magic since then,” sighed the spy. “I have no idea how it works. Tried a lot of times, when I got a little spare time, but for naughts.”

“Well, it worked when it was needed, that’s clear!” stated the Ambassador. “Now, it’s time for my story. You might wonder why we returned to d’Ornia, I suppose.”

“Yes, of course,” said Feyra. “Do you have more information about the plot?”

“Well, you be the judge. The next day after your flight, an official press release was printed in all the newspapers. The king so and so in an accident, the cousin of the king, a real savior, took over the Regency. No word about you.”

“Strange,” frowned Heyra. “We’re not so unworthy of notice, after all!”

“Indeed. And in the following days, all my contacts reported extraordinary things. The Royal Guard had been sent to other duties and had been replaced by those mercenaries. The Citadel was shut, and some gossip spread, first among the working classes, then in the tabloids. The City began to boil like a keg of gunpowder, and you know how dangerous a keg with gunpowder is.”

“We know,” replied Feyra. “It detonates on itself most of the time; that’s why we don’t use gunpowder anymore. The…”

Before she had the chance to explain the powder's chemical properties, her sister shushed her.

“Let him speak!”

“So,” continued the host. “The Town was boiling with anger because of this gossip. Do you want to know what it said?”

“Of course!” said all together.

“Well, it said that a devious villain had plotted to kill the king and kidnap the princesses, in a bid to control them for power, using some Ohstian factions who weren’t pleased with the status quo. They even named the villain, that unscrupulous, corrupt politician.”

“That’s very interesting,” said the spy. “And who might he be?”

“You’re looking at him!”

In the silence that followed, you could hear the fly, and by some coincidence, a real big fly was trying to have a bite of a cookie, being obliterated by Lau with a cloth napkin.

“Really?” asked Feyra. “They’ve blamed you?”

The Ambassador shrugged with sorrow and helplessness.

“He’s a genius!” exclaimed the spy. “Whoever is the strategist of the plot, he’s a genius. Who would not believe it, knowing that the girls disappeared from your house? And that dodged the attention from the real factions of the plot.”

“Exactly,” admitted the man. “The gossip said a faction of the University wanted to turn Ohst into a republic, and they allied with my party, the d’Ornian republicans. The nobles sent their troops here on the pretense of exercises, but their real pretended goal is to stop me from grabbing power, turning d’Ornia into a Republic, and use the princesses to control Ohst.”

“Genius, I mean my words, he’s a genius,” repeated the spy. “That gives us a better understanding. D’Ornia is an elective monarchy, Ohst is a hereditary monarchy. The nobles of Ohst had always wanted to turn the system into an elective monarchy, so they could be kings, while a lot of d’Ornian kings had tried to change the system into a hereditary monarchy to keep power in the family. Power is a good motivation for apparently different ideologies. The King faction here and the nobles of Ohst must’ve allied; a hand washes the other. I never thought that the noble families of Ohst will found common ground, yet here we are... In Ohst, things are going their way, so they’ve sent troops here to help their ally, the King of d’Ornia. Am I right?”

“You are,” agreed the Ambassador. “But we managed to get here before them, and my party controls the capital garrison, so we’ve closed the gates.”

“We had to flee with a ferry dad bought. We had troublemakers throwing rocks at the Embassy; it was terrible!” intervened Missy.

“Providence, help us!” sighed Heyra. “We most certainly don’t want d’Ornia to descend into civil war with Ohst troops helping…”

“We don’t want it either,” admitted the Ambassador. “The situation is tense and can go sideways at any moment… But now that you are here, this might help a lot. Diago can help a lot too, but I’ll let my daughter explain. I’ll go after him; he should have returned already.”

“Tell, tell!” jumped Heyra on the chance to hear more gossip while their host went away.