The plane cut across the afternoon sky, shoving clouds out of the way as it went. Turbulence shook the small craft to and fro. It only worsened as it traveled deeper into the storm. The hum of its duel turboprops permeated the air, giving noise to the otherwise silent cabin. The chair, the instruments, and the interior gave some semblance of comfort.

Cornelia stared into the wall of grey, not even the flash of lightning deterred her gaze. The woman sat back in the pilot’s chair, assuming control before they took off. The regular pilot sat next to her, he was no one of note, he did his job as well as the next aviator. If only she could fade into the background. Her grip was firm on the joystick, determined to navigate the turbulent time. Her shoulder throbbed in pain with each minor movement, the doctor had said debris fractured it.

Another flash of lightning filled the sky followed by a crash of thunder. The sound took her back to the morning events, whether she had liked it or not.

***

The moment her finger let off the trigger she knew she had made a fatal mistake. The bullet’s trajectory was certain to bring it into the right lung of her enemy at the cost of the victim’s shoulder. Yet, her enemy proved more capable than she thought. The teen threw the hostage in front of him, the young station worker had no chance.

The Dame ignored the warnings of a runaway train, consumed by what she had done. She heard a noise, a faint one, it was like someone took a knife to glass. Cornelia had to rectify her mistake, she couldn’t afford to lose. She would save Raze, the man’s strangled gasps fueled her anger. The Iron Dame of Carolina took aim once more. Yet, the sound of a train shook out any hope of victory.

A train bulldozed through the station wall, throwing everyone to the ground/ A chunk of concrete slammed against her soldier. It all happened so fast that her brain struggled to keep up. Cornelia was dazed but not deterred. Her shoulder screamed in pain, the Dame ignored it and picked herself back up. Smoke and dust choked the air. Cornelia looked around, her friends were strewn about the floor in varying conditions. Some were getting and others were unconscious. Raze, she thought, the man in question was slumped against the wall. She could hear his faint coughs.

Her feet started to move towards him, but her eyes stopped them. The dame’s foe was already to his feet and trained his weapon on her, and she was without. The teen had a glint in his eyes, a glint the dame had seen many times. Cornelia felt stiff like his gaze froze her in time.

SCIL evacuated the rest of the insurgents, he alone was left. He smirked. Without warning his aim shifted to Raze.

Cornelia heard the sound of thunder. Followed by glass buckling under stress.

***

It was her fault that Raze was there. She had fought tooth and nail for him to stay in the squad, despite the possibility of another lung collapse. The weight of the innocent’s death and of Raze hung like a cloud over the Dame. Norfolk, Knox, and Talin had all tried reaching to her. Cornelia ignored them all, barring the official report to Talin of the attack.

“Now entering Washington Airspace,” the copilot alerted her.

The Dame nodded and pitched the nose down. Through the noise of the storm, she heard the rumble of jet engines. Two F-42 fighters fell in formation with her plane. Their sleek design stood in stark contrast to the Carolinas’ transport; the jet engines mocked the oversized propellers. “This is Federal airspace, state your clearance code and destination,” barked one of the pilots.

Cornelia opened the channel, “99 45 107 110 105 103 104. Requesting permission to land at WSH Airport.”

There was a brief moment of silence then a bout of static. The Dame frowned, they were taking longer than normal. “Typical of the Feds,” she muttered. The man beside her chuckled and nodded.

“Clearance code accepted, destination denied,” he replied. “Proceed to the Senate Terminal.”

The Dame glance at the officer. Why did they want them to land at the Senate’s anointed landing zone? She opened the channel once again, “Pardon? For what reason?” She bit back saying anything further. Her anger boiled underneath the surface, yet it refused to fully spew out; only partially.

The pilot didn’t answer that, “Proceed to the Senate Chamber after landing, Dame of Carolina.” The jets peeled off leaving the craft alone once more.

Cornelia frowned, the Imperial Summit wasn’t scheduled till the evening. Why were they headed to the Capitol? Perhaps Norfolk could fill her in. The Dame changed course and steepened her descent. She frowned, they were going far too fast. The plane left the clouds behind and greeted their destination.

Pale lights sprinkled across the grey cityscape. Few buildings rose above ten stories, save for the ones at the center. There was a coil of dread in her stomach. There stood the twin skyscrapers of the Emperor’s Palace and the Hall of the Imperial Council, they reached up toward the stars, disappearing into the clouds. A few blocks away was the Capitol, its peak failed to reach a third of the twin towers. Fear and hatred mutated into something else when she saw a certain structure. A building, more akin to a stronghold, sat between the Capitol and the skyscrapers. Although it sat lower than the other structures, its presence was made far underground. It was the Ministry of the Inquisition.

Her copilot confirmed with the control tower as Cornelia prepared for landing. The raised landing strip jutted out of the Capitol building, its lights pierced the downpour. As she approached for landing she could just make out figures, no doubt waiting for her arrival. The Dame hoped that it was a familiar face.

The man put up his headset, his expression was tense. “Control says there is a crosswind of twelve knots. Runway slick. Max throttle advised in case arrestor wire missed. Arrestor gear is out,” he alerted.

“Roger,” she replied. Cornelia pressed the intercom, “Prepare for landing. It's going to be harsh.” She flipped a switch above her head, “Tailhook down.”

“Tailhook down,” the man confirmed.

Her hand gripped the joystick harder. She pulled at memories of Greenland. A torrential storm, night-time, a carrier. “Gear down,” She ordered.

“Gear down,” he replied. Their speed started to drop, she forced the throttle up. The wind fought to push them away from the landing zone. The Dame fought back and pointed the nose into the direction of the wind.

Cornelia could feel the gear shaking.“Full flaps.”

“Full flaps.”

Turbulence shook the plane. The airstrip got closer, the water reflected the landing lights. With a steady hand, she pitched the plane up. The gear struck the asphalt, the plane continued forward. For a split second, she thought she missed the wire. The aircraft shuttered and came to a dead stop. Cornelia felt like she was going forward, but the harness yanked her back. She pulled back the throttle, her breathing slowed.

Cornelia undid her harness and stood up. “Have Havoc guard the plane,” she ordered. The Dame opened a wardrobe beside the hatch and got her helmet out. Its colors of navy, grey, and faded white matched the rest of her armor. She put it on, the t-visor gave her armor to face the storm ahead.

She unlocked the hatch, it undid like an envelope. The staircase folded to the ground The rain and wind were the first to hit her. The second was the sight, there were five in total- four being Capitol Guards. They stood in pairs flanking the center man. The welcoming party stood under a canopy, while she was without.

Cornelia descended the stairs, her cape flew wildly in the wind. The Dame’s t-visor lit the dark afternoon in an unnatural light. A chill went down her spine. The fifth man wore a pure white uniform- a trench coat with golden epaulets, a forage cap, and a gold pauldron. No one could mistake the black book that clung to his hip.

“Afternoon, Dame. Sorry to interfere in your schedule,” the man called out.

She bowed, “Not an issue, High Inquisitor Orion.” Rain beat down her back, she didn’t dare move. Her heart pounded through her chest. It felt like hatred had woven its threads throughout her person, binding it together. The woman felt every drop.

“Come with me.” His words were much closer. Cornelia tilted her head, the inquisitor’s white boots were inches away. The threads tightened. “There is much to discuss.”

The Dame and the High Inquisitor walked in the empty hallways. The statues of long-dead Senators accompanied them, their stone eyes stared down on them. Their boots clicked on the granite floor, echoing down the hall. Her chest was tight, walk robotic, and her jaw rigid. Orion’s arms crossed his arms behind his back, black book in hand. “It feels as if your emotions are infecting your viewpoint on recent events.”

The Dame bit back venom, this was a High Inquisitor, one false step and there would be no Iron Dame. “A Knight should care deeply about his or her’s state,” she kept her tone as formal as possible.

Orion shook his head, “While that is correct. That is not what I meant. Humans have the tendency to react in a certain way to trauma. Each person is different, but the purpose is the same: to lessen the burden it has on the brain. Yet it is so rare for it to manifest itself in such a physical way. ”

Cornelia clenched her jaw. Why did Orion always spew out nonsense? “I don’t follow.”

He waved away her interjection, “I’m just thinking out loud. No matter how emotional you are, doesn’t excuse your failure at the Union Station.”

“Yes, High Inquisitor,” she said without question.

His mouth formed a thin line, “I wasn’t finished, Dame.”

Cornelia kicked herself into silence. Where was Talin to defend her? She questioned landing at the Capitol for a reprimand by an Inquisitor.

Orion sighed, “I can see the questions on your face; the Emperor has something special planned.” She nodded and the pair walked on. They came upon that large door that divided the Knight’s Chamber and the Senate’s Chamber. It had a large, two-headed eagle on it. Two Senate Sentinels made sure neither side could intrude on the other. The Inquisitor walked ahead and commanded the guards to leave. They left without a qualm. Once they left, the Inquisitor unclipped his black book from the chain on his hip. “Some good came out of the attack, despite your failings.”

Her eyes didn’t reach his.

He flipped straight to a page. “Today, March 5th, morning,” he began. “The attack on the Raleigh Union Station was initiated by a lone figure walking into the station, his identity unattainable by CCTV.” He looked up.

She cringed, she had written the report, not hours ago. Hearing it again poured gasoline on the fire of her heart. Cornelia nodded, “The man convinced a clerk to let him pass the guard line. During the engagement, he was identified as the presumed second in command: ‘Percival’. He managed to escape with the rest of the insurgents with the aid of SCIL.” She stumbled over the last part.

Orion shook his head, disappointment evident on his face.

She swallowed hard, “Have I missed something, Sir?”

He pulled back his coat, revealing the inside. What looked like a pocket clung to the fabric by a gold chain. He unclipped it and held it up. “Do you recognize this?”

Did he think she was stupid or something? An eagle with seven wings and seven talons, holding a black stone. “The seal of the Imperial Council. The Council hands it out only to the most trusted servants of the Empire.”

The man nodded and returned it to its place. “It would seem that this ‘Percival’ had used one to bypass your defenses.”

The Dame blinked. Her mind reeled at the revelation. She had questioned everyone at the scene, not one made mention of that detail, “Impossible, how could they acquire one? Did they forge it?”

Orion tapped his chin, “It’s possible. However… it is clear that this rebellion goes far deeper than previously thought.”

This was her chance to rectify her mistakes and live up to her father. Cornelia nodded, “I shall put all available resources-”

“That won’t be necessary, Dame,” he interrupted.

The Dame flinched. “What do you mean?” she blurted out.

The Inquisitor’s face darkened. “This is an Inquisitorial matter now.”

She opened her mouth in protest.

His brown eyes looked like they would turn amber. “Your incompetence in this matter has already made this decision.” His words threatened to shatter her. Though he stood only a couple inches above her, the man made her feel insignificant. “You will hand over all the information you have to the Ministry of the Inquisition. I will be taking over the investigation; all of Carolina’s resources will be at the Council’s disposal.” The man got in close, “Is that understood?”

She felt like she was on fire. All she could do was pour her fury into a stare.

He pulled away, a smile spread across his face. “Good. Do not fear Dame, this is all temporary. You shall keep your titles…. If you can prove to the Council that you are worthy.”

Orion started to walk away while she remained frozen. “You should get to the Knight’s Chamber, the Imperial Summit has been moved to now,” he said without turning around.

Cornelia, thrown out of her stupor, saluted, “Yes, High Inquisitor Orion.” She turned around and entered the chamber. Her mind refused to think straight.

***

The Knight’s chamber was not too dissimilar to the Senate’s if a bit on the simple side. Statues of past Knights watched her as she approached the Knight floor. Guards, clothed in a navy blue uniform with a large silver pauldron, flanked the entrance. The Dame of Carolina neared; they gave a salute, with a click of their boots they opened the doors for her. “Dame Cornelia Gastonia!” They announced.

They opened to the sight of all of the Knights gathered at one long table. On the opposite wall were two TVs, one on top of the other. Windows lined the left wall, letting natural light flow into the room. A grand chandelier hung from the ceiling, its crystals refracted the light in every direction. Yet, compared to the Senate side, it paled.

Her entrance halted any conversation being made. The room stared at her, she saw nothing but cold stares, save for one: Norfolk. Cornelia took her seat beside said Knight, putting her across the Knight of Florida: Christopher Tampan.

Past the thinly veiled stoicism was disdain. His dark blue clashed with her green. She frowned at her colleague, she lacked preparedness to handle this. Norfolk gave her a worried look. Cornelia blinked at him, she felt a bit better beside him. But, the Floridian in front of her crushed any positive.

The windows went opaque in seconds, leaving only artificial light. The Summit had begun. Stewards came around and placed tablets in front of each of the Knights. The two TVs came to life, the bottom one displayed the Senate Chamber where all of the seventeen Governors sat. The top displayed the Emperor in all his glory. He sat upon the Platinum throne. His blue cape spilled onto the ground, there was gold everywhere on his attire. Delicate leaves of platinum crowned his gray head.

The Knights and Governors leapt to their feet, “All Hail Emperor Jackson!”

His blue eyes scanned the room and nodded, “The Imperial Summit is in session.” The two rooms took their seats. “The Britannian Francian Union has threatened our authority in the Atlantic, they have increased their production of battleships and heavy cruisers.”

Not surprising, Cornelia thought. The annexation of Greenland almost cut off the Union’s territory of Canada. The only thing that was surprising was how long it took for them to respond. The annexation occurred almost three years prior.

“To counter this growing threat, the Imperial Council and I ask the Governors to increase the funding of the Federal Navy. The usage of funds can be found on the tablets.” The tablet blinked to life and revealed a detailed synopsis. She scrolled through details, the initiative was to expand naval bases in Greenland and the creation of a fleet that would supplement the Atlantic Fleet: A Caribbean Fleet.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a hand go up. The Emperor nodded, “Yes, Knight Concordia?”

The Dame turned her attention to the Knight of New England. His uniform bore the colors of the state, dark green, light gray, with accents of red. He was one of the veteran Knights, the creases in his face told of that fact. “Pardon me your Majesty, but wouldn’t our Naval build-up compel the Union to double their efforts in expanding their naval capabilities?”

The Knight raised a good point. The Union’s policy of having a navy larger than the next two powers combined made any naval build-up risky and costly. Cornelia did not doubt that the Empire was more powerful, but the power of the Royal Navy was something that could not be ignored.

The Emperor nodded, “Valid point, Knight Concordia. The Council and I have considered the concern.” The leader’s face disappeared, replaced with a digital globe. The globe rotated, putting the North Atlantic and the Arctic Ocean at the forefront. “That is why increasing the size of our navy will not be the only action. We shall conquer Iceland.”

Before anyone could react, invasion plans materialized onto the screen. A yellow line arcing around the top of Greenland down to Iceland displayed the taskforce route.

The room was silent, everyone took in the proposal. Iceland… Home to over 370,000 people. Owned by Denmark, a major non-WEDO(West Europa Defense Organization) ally. An alliance headed by the Union. The Knights remained deadpanned, but there was a certain air of uncertainty.

Governor Galve from East Texas broke the silence, “Wouldn’t that trigger a war? Greenland pushed us to the brink of war with the Union. Greenland is much less populated and closer to the Empire. I feel that it is a bit too ambitious, perhaps the annexation of the island of Svalbard in the Arctic Ocean from Norway would be a more prudent option.” A few other Governors made a noise of agreement.

“Do you doubt the decision of the Emperor and the Council? And would that not bring us into conflict with the Russian Federation? They also have a calm on that territory.” Governor Myers of Florida questioned.

Cornelia suppressed an urge to roll her eyes. It was to be expected Myers would stoop to gaslighting; he was not too dissimilar to his knight.

“I am looking for what's best for the Empire, we need to consider all the options!” Galve’s voice rose in volume. “Texan and Alaskan oil fuels the Navy, I would like to see it put to good use.”

Lubbock, Governor of West Texas voiced his agreement.

“I second that,” Governor Barrow of Alaska jumped in.

Governor Orleans got to his feet and pointed at the three dissenters, “Are you all saying neither Council nor the Emperor knows best for our beloved Empire?”

Most of the Governors were on their feet at that point.

The sound of a chair screeching against the floor shattered the line of questioning. Talin. The chair crashed to the ground, echoing through the speaker. The Dame squinted at her Governor, there was something off about him. He was shaking, it wasn’t clear but the slight erratic movement of his hands gave it away. “We are all working towards the greater good of the Empire. That is why we have discourse, to have the best possible option to come out. And once the option is presented we will push on to become the strongest, grandest Empire to ever grace the Earth,” his voice was neutral yet firm.

She envied her Governor’s talent. She had no issue with facing down an army of soldiers- yet when it came to solving problems through words, she faltered.

Before anyone could counter him, claps boomed through the speaker system. “Well said Governor Talin,” the Emperor praised.

Talin bowed, “thank you, Your Majesty.”

The Governors slowly sat back down, they would have to swallow their arguments for a later date. Cornelia sighed and wondered if Iceland was the key to win the Council’s favor.

“It would seem Talin has better control over the Senate than over his own State. Shame he doesn’t have someone in dealing with that,” a voice said in a whisper.

Her head snapped to the source. She thought Christopher had been silent for too long. Yet, even the expectation didn’t make her blood boil any less. The Floridian had no self-control to keep his comments to himself, Cornelia told herself. Doubt tickled in the back of her mind. Norfolk laid his hand on her’s, as with the doubt, she shook it off. The Iron Dame must not have weaknesses.

“If that is all that needs to be said, shall we take a vote?” The Emperor asked. The Governors didn’t say anything. Their leader smiled at the silence, he clasped his hands together, “Excellent, according to the by-laws of the Constitution, the vote shall be carried out by vocal means. All opposed to the creation of a Caribbean Fleet, expansion of naval bases in Greenland, and the annexation of Iceland, say nay.”

Despite the objections and accusations, not one Governor said a word. No vote had been opposed since the Civil War before there was an Inquisitorial Branch before there was a Council.

The Emperor did not bat an eye at the result, “All in favor say I.”

In a uniform fashion, the Governors raised their right hand and said, “I.”

The Emperor nodded, “With your unanimous vote our Empire shall be eternal. All other enemies shall crumble.” He lifted his arms heavenward, “For the Empire!”

Cornelia stood straight up, along with the rest of the Knighthood and Governors. Her eyes locked with her rival. “For the Empire!” the rooms thundered. “For the Empire! For the Empire!” Cornelia breathed hard, she would prove that she was superior to the other Knights.

Emperor Jackson lowered his arms. The two chambers took their seats, waiting for the next matter; the Knights especially. Where there was war, there was opportunity. Pain seared her heart at the realization that she would have to find a replacement for Raze.

“Shall we settle the issue of Command?” Emperor Jackson asked.

Cornelia's thoughts brought her back to a couple of years ago. She had turned twenty-two and just taken on the position of Dame. The Knights and Governors had been summoned in the same way. She remembered the excitement of being assigned as a Company leader. Yet, no amount of excitement prepared her for the crucible of Nuuk.

“Your assignments are being transmitted to your tablets as we speak,” the Emperor went on.

She looked down at her pad. It blinked off and on for a few seconds before sitting on a pure white screen. Nothing was on it save for her name and title. Cornelia tapped on it, guessing that it was frozen. The screen didn’t change. She turned to Norfolk, “What assignment were you given?”

“Serving under Lieutenant General Bradley as a Major General alongside Tampan.” Norfolk’s eyebrows pulled together, “Why do you ask?”

She looked back down at her still blank screen. It wasn’t unexpected he was given the role, he had served in the same capacity last time. But, how was she not given one? How was she supposed to prove her worth? Her heart started to pound, she felt heat against her face. “It's nothing.”

The Floridian looked at the pair with interest. She scoffed at him, attempting to dissuade him from digging any deeper.

“This concludes the Imperial Summit. May you bring glory to the Empire,” Emperor Jackson concluded.

Cornelia barred her teeth, she wouldn’t even get a reason for it, would she? Knights started to pack up their assignments and chatter amongst themselves. All except for one.

“Excuse me, your Majesty,” Christopher spoke above the noise.

“The Summit is over Tampan,” Cornelia countered.

The room was silent; the knight flashed her a dark look. “Are you speaking for his Majesty?”

The Dame’s mouth slammed shut. She refused to look at the screen, her eyes were stuck on the Floridan. He had no right to discuss Carolinian matters.

“Speak, Knight Tampan,” the Emperor’s words sent a shiver down Cornelia’s spine.

Tampan threw her an identical scoff before addressing the Emperor, “I, as well as other Knights, are concerned.”

“To the point, Tampan,” Emperor Jackson commanded.

The knight was taken aback. Cornelia felt a bit better, the Emperor must’ve already known the Council’s decision of sending Orion to deal with the situation.

“The cell, blasphemously known as the ‘Patriots’ is growing bolder with every attack. The Dame of Carolina has failed to stop them.” The man gestured toward her. “And occurring to IIB intelligence, the group is spreading like a virus. One can only wonder when they will infect other states, like Florida, Louisiana, and Virginia.” Tampan glanced at Norfolk, who had his fist curled into a ball.

Out of the corner of her eye, the Emperor scrutinized the Floridian, “How do you think it is best to go solve this issue?”

Knight Tampan paused, his expression cold, “I feel it best that the neighboring states should have more influence in the security of Carolina, for the Empire’s sake.” She knew what his next words, and it would be the final straw. “The revocation of Dame Cornelia’s Knighthood.”

Cornelia slammed her fist on the table, “That is enough! I will not have you spew out slander anymore.” The Dame turned and faced the Governor’s chamber and the Emperor. “I have served the Empire well. What other Knight can say that they brought back all of their soldiers from Greenland? Not only that but was the key to a victory at Nuuk.”

The Dame thought back to the shallow trench that was her command center. The constant artillery bombardment throwing rocks in every direction. Cornelia held fast on the hill in the vein hope of holding the airfield, the only chance of reinforcements. The sickening feeling of seeing the Union fleet battering the Imperial fleet.

Cornelia took deep breaths, she stared at Christopher. The room was still, her opponent returned her gaze. “Can Havoc Squad say the same now?”

Cornelia reached for her sword. Chamber guards readied their weapons. Norfolk reached out to stop her. Knight Tampan’s stoic facade disappeared, replaced with conceit. The man was vanity incarnate, it should not go unpunished.

“Enough!” The Emperor’s voice boomed through the speakers. “The Imperial Summit has concluded.” The Governor’s screen blanked, and the Knights took their leave. Christopher clicked his tongue and left with the others. Her eyes stayed on the man seconds longer than she should have, before turning to leave with her friend. “Dame Gaston,” the words echoed through her. She froze.

Edgar opened his mouth, perhaps to impart some wisdom. Her frown deepened. The man decided against it, only giving her a small wave. The door slammed shut. It was her and the Emperor. She turned around and knelt before the screen. An apology struggled out from her lips, “Forgive me, your Majesty, for my dishonorable actions today and my failure to destroy the terrorists.” Cornelia fidgeted in her stance, not just from her outburst.

“Rise, Dame Gaston.” She complied, yet not able to meet his gaze. “ There is nothing wrong in protecting your honor,” he stated.

“Yes, your Majesty,” she must maintain the Gastonian legacy. For her father.

The Emperor wasn’t finished, “But your honor is secondary to the interests of the Empire.”

She gulped and nodded.

“I am sure that Orion has already discussed the arrangement,” he stated. Emperor Jackson stared down at her, like she was a child.

Cornelia frowned and replied in the affirmative. She bit back her dissenting opinion, she wasn’t given enough time. But, it was better than Florida having any oversight on Carolinian affairs.

“You are fortunate that Carolina has a long history of being faithful to the Empire, even bearing the responsibility of subjugating the rebellious state of South Carolina. As well as your family lineage and past deeds,” he went on. Cornelia held her chest just a bit higher, reaffirming her edge over Tampan. “This is why the Imperial Council shall give a chance at redemption.”

“Yes, your Majesty; what is my mission?” Cornelia asked. A personal mission Emperor, it was a great honor. An honor that was a long time coming.

“The Imperial Council shall supply it,” he finished.

Before the Dame could react, the Emperor disappeared. Cornelia’s back stiffened. The Council? They almost never spoke to the laity, only to the Inquisitors and Emperor. Emperor Jackson usually acted as their mouthpiece.

Seven eagles replaced the Emperor, they were lit up in pure white, save for one. She got to her knees. “Your Majesties,” she stated with the utmost respect.

“Dame Cornelia Gaston,” she couldn’t tell which member it was, but the words rushed past her like a bitter wind. Every word was mechanical, the man didn’t sound quite human. “The threats that originate have hindered the Council’s will. We ask you to correct your error and forward our goals. If successful you shall keep your titles.”

She swallowed hard, “Thank you for the opportunity, Imperial Majesty.” To interfere with the will of the Council… meant death. Why would Orion ask for the leader to be spared?

“The head of the Danish Deep Science Division, Villads Bohr, is your target. His base of operation is the Deep Earth Research Facility located at the base of the Eyjafjörður Fjord, near the city of Akureyri.” He continued.

“The specifics of which will be on your tablet. This mission is classified to the highest degree,” another Council member chimed in, his voice was a bit softer.

Cornelia nodded, but she still didn’t fully understand. How was this a trial? A simple extraction mission, that was all to gain favor? Hardly honorable, she sighed. But, it was the path to maintain and elevate her position.

“Is there an issue Dame?” a third asked.

The woman froze, even though she couldn’t see them, she could feel their eyes piercing into her. “Nothing, my lords.”

“I should hope not, you have little room for there to be one,” the third reminded her.

She grit her teeth and got to her feet. The Dame could take no more of this, “I will be victorious, for the Empire.” She bowed. At the edge of her vision, the eagles disappeared, in their place was a black void. The Dame waited for a second before leaving, to see if they were really gone. She grabbed her tablet, it’s once blank screen filled in by a textbook worth of information. After taking a glance at it she clipped it on her belt and took her leave.

The hall was sparsely populated; only guards and a man were left. The Knights were long gone. Cornelia put on a strong face and marched towards the exit. She tried to focus on her mission, but the man that was staring out the window distracted her. He was dressed inappropriately for where he was; his frayed long sleeve shirt and ripped jeans lent to that. She ignored it, one of the guards would probably yell at him instead.

The man had other ideas, he tried to catch her distant eyes. As she got closer his staring became more blatant. The longer he did it the more she couldn’t ignore his brown eyes. Nonetheless, she pressed on. Cornelia passed him; the man did the unexpected, he grabbed her wrist.

She twisted away and reached for her sword. “If you would like to keep that hand, I wouldn’t do that again,” she threatened.

The man chuckled, “I am sorry, I just wanted to talk.”

She blinked. What was his problem? “Are you aware you just seized the Dame of Carolina.”

He put a hand over his heart. “Pardon my manners, Dame. I know how busy you are, I just didn’t know how to catch your attention,” his tone demanded trust.

She had her reservations. Cornelia crossed her arms, “What do you want?” She reasoned that if he was allowed to wander the Capitol, then he must be a child of some official. The more she analyzed him, the younger he seemed; he barely looked eighteen. And the Emperor didn’t have any children as young as him.

He gestured to walk. “It has to do with the ‘Patriots’.”

Cornelia nodded, of course, it did. Calling them by their proclaimed name was… interesting, to the Dame. “Most of it is classified, I don’t know if I can say anything.” Which was true, and hopefully, he would go away.

“Of course, of course. I know the protocols,” he understood. The pair walked on, the boy hesitated to ask.

She growled, she didn’t have time for this, “Ask now, I need to be somewhere else.” Thankfully the exit was drawing

To her surprise, he didn’t flinch at her hostility. “Who is the masked boy,” the teenager inquired.

That question was like a slap in the face. The said terrorist was hardly classified. The only information that they had on him was that he existed and that he was male. Nothing more, nothing less. He had only been seen at the Gala and the escape of the prisoners. The latter was only his mask, and she wasn’t even sure if it was his voice, it was distorted beyond recognition.

Before she could respond, a guard came running, “Dame Gaston!”

She focused on the newcomer, “What is it?”

The guard saluted, “Governor Talin is requesting your presence.”

Cornelia nodded and started to walk with him, leaving the teen behind. The guard opened the door for her, she saw not only Talin was waiting for her, but also Norfolk. Before leaving a small part of her felt bad for leaving the kid behind. She looked over her shoulder, the boy had not moved. “I’ll answer your question… once I know it myself. If it's declassified.”

The boy’s inquisitive expression morphed into a smile that looked like it could tear his face in half. The Iron Dame couldn’t help but soften if only just a bit.