The first thing visitors from Homestria commented on was always the map. The second thing was a contest between the art, the bookshelves, and herself, but there was no contest for first; the map won that handily.
It wasn't anything special, just a map of the area around the Celestial Sea, but shifted a few degrees to the east, putting Griffonstone and Groveria in the center instead of Homestria. Of course, that also meant that there were more of the lands to the east visible, and less of the emptiness west of Homestria, but Homestria had known about those lands for centuries, either through second-hand tales told by Groverians or through first-hand experience trading with them in Griffonstone's great markets of yore. Homestrians would be surprised to see them when most other maps of the region excluded them, but they wouldn't be a shock.
At least, that was her hypothesis; most of the evidence disagreed with it, with the map apparently being different enough from what those viewing it were expecting to invite discomfort, anxiety, or even anger in Homestrian observers. Most of them, consciously or un-, thought of their home as the center of the world, and being pushed from that position left them as unbalanced as shoving them with her shoulder would.
"Not that we're much better," she murmured, remembering her parents' recounting of Guto the Usurper's doomed attempt to reestablish the empire. "Maybe it's something common to all Men, all over the world. All of us wanting to be ruler and not liking it when we're told no."
"Is that it?" a shadow whispered near her ear, sending her jumping out of her seat. "Or is it that all of us think that we're supposed to be ruled and are afraid that we'll be told yes?"
"Don't scare me like that, Crypsis!" she wheezed, heart pounding beneath her hand. "You're going to give me a heart attack one of these days!"
"Apologies," the Oddon bowed his head. "I would have called out earlier, but I didn't want to disturb you."
"So you decided to scare me half to death, instead?" she asked, trying to calm her pulse down.
"I would've done the same if I'd called out earlier," he gave her a thin smile. "You were wrapped up in reports instead of your thoughts, then, but whatever they're wrapped in, people still react the same way when I surprise them. Speaking of those reports, though, anything of interest in them?"
"No," she sighed, shaking her head. "Cloudsdale staying quiet, the Unmarked on the run, Shining Armor mustering to chase them down, all of it's about stuff over in Homestria. Anything on your end?"
"Oh, yes," he nodded. "A convocation in the Temple of Flame, more reports of magic in the Runery, confirmation of Sixtus Stone-Skin's abilities... and, if Giltus is to be believed, Yearling's departure from the city."
"Did he say which direction she went?" Please say back to Homestria, please say back to Homestria.
"Into the foothills," he shattered her hopes.
"Any hint of where specifically in the foothills she was going?" her shoulders slumped.
"None," shattered the fragments of her hopes even further.
"Did anyone go with her?" she pleaded, desperately searching for a silver lining.
"Giltus said she went alone," ground the fragments still left into dust.
She let her face fall into her hands. She didn't have anything against the archaeologist/author herself, she personally quite enjoyed her books, Yearling just... didn't always play nice with others. Both in the personal sense of her preference for working alone (a preference that those who'd tried to work with her before proved very willing to respect, especially if it meant they didn't have to work with her again) and in the abstract sense of not necessarily giving due weight to the considerations of those in whose territory she went exploring. Taking Crypsis' homeland as an example, it wasn't that Oddo was against the idea of exploring the ruins of Ebonwood, and they weren't against the idea of recovering artifacts from there either, they simply wanted her to ask their permission before exploring and try to minimize damage to the site and any artifacts she found, even if it meant taking longer.
To make a long story, one told in whispers by the various members of the Homestrian diplomatic service, short, Daring Do and the Twisted Crown was the only one of her books set in Oddo, and would presumably keep that title until either the day she died or the day Oddo decided to end her banishment.
The Ebonwood Incident, as it was called, cemented Yearling's fame in Homestria, immortalizing her as the daring individual who dared to defy the ancient tyranny of Oddo, and simultaneously made her a figure of concern outside the kingdom. Glenda personally thought that Yearling was right, Ebonwood was simply an unfortunate accident caused by time, but even she was reluctant to risk letting the person who had accidentally (negligently to some, "accidentally" to others) turned an ancient Oddon fortress to rubble near anywhere archaeologically significant in her homeland. A visit from Yearling had to be carefully choreographed if Homestria wanted to avoid an international incident, making her chaotic, rule-chafing personality the source of a great amount of stress, especially when combined with her well-maintained athletic capabilities (making no method of passage safe to leave unwatched), skill at disguises, legerdemain, and just general good luck. The mere rumor of her traveling through somewhere was enough to provoke an international response, officials in whatever kingdom she was exploring trying to find her to avoid being known as The Enabler of Ebonwood the Second, their Homestrian colleagues wanting to avoid the diplomatic rupture a second Ebonwood would cause.
And now she was here, unannounced, in an extremely sensitive environment. Griffonstone was within a hair's breadth of reuniting, anything that threatened that would be responded to as forcefully as possible, and there was virtually no way any self-respecting Griffonstonian could see the potential cultural destruction of the bull-in-a-glass-shop A. K. Yearling's escapades as anything but a threat.
Forget traps or Dr. Caballeron, she groused, dragging her hands down her face. The greatest danger Daring Do faces is politics. "I'll go let Guyard know," she sighed. "With any luck, we'll be able to track her down and send her home quickly and quietly."
They didn't have any luck.
Guyard, Homestria's ambassador to Griffonstone and whatever else remained of Groveria, was an able administrator and had charisma in spades, but that had only been enough to wring a skeleton staff out of his homeland: five civil servants and six Royal Guards, all of whom were needed at the embassy. There were a handful of Groverian hires, like her, people who could conceivably try to pick up Yearling's trail, but they would have no way of confirming their authority with her when they caught her, putting them back at square one.
Now, he'd been forced to call up his counterparts among the unofficial leaders of Griffonstone, the so-called Regent's Council, and warn them that they were looking at a Code Do. A hasty council had been convened, Glenda shrinking under the flickering digital gazes of three of Guyard's contacts, the ambassador himself staring intently at his own camera. The palace was close enough to the embassy for an in-person meeting, but one of the Griffonstonians, Gordial from the House of Otto, had advised against it; a virtual meeting would attract less attention, and while Groveria as a whole might have been tele-communicatively behind Homestria, Griffonstone, thanks to the efforts of the Council, was almost comparable to it, more than equipped to handle a simple video call. Guyard had agreed, and now they could all join together in panic from the comfort of their offices.
"You're sure that it was Yearling?" another of the Griffonstonians, Giliz, pressed.
"Positive," Glenda nodded. Crypsis wouldn't have told her about it if he hadn't verified it, and while he wasn't infallible, she trusted his judgement.
"What is she doing here?" Gordial scowled. "Why here? And why now, of all times?"
"We're busy," the third contact, Gatha, grumbled. "With reunification and the disappearances on our hands, we don't have enough eyes to look out for her, or enough hands to do anything if we do see her."
"Is there anybody who can be spared?" Guyard pleaded. "Even one or two would free us up to track her down."
Giliz shook her head. "Sir Cloudfloor needs every sword he can get, either for peacekeeping or... protection. Speaking of which," she looked hopefully at Glenda. "Anything?"
"No," she sadly shook her head. "After the Gull Raids, the Shore Watch mapped as much of the coast as they could. Between them, the maps Galleon lent us, and the historical data, I've only been able to find a handful of viable bases of operations for a kidnapping ring this large anywhere within two hundred kilos of Griffonstone, and all of those have been searched, scoured. All of them turned up nothing."
"This is impossible," Gordial said as Giliz fumed. "There have been over four hundred reported disappearances over the past month, leaving aside the reports we've received from Mount Aris and the Draconic Isles. All of them have occurred either on the sea or within half-a-dozen strides of it, indicating a definitive area of operations. We have Cadmun warships, Groverian loremasters, and Homestrian satellites scouring that area. And yet, despite all this, we don't even know for certain what the kidnappers look like or why they're doing this. How is this possible?"
"It doesn't matter," Guyard said, leaning forward in his seat. "They can't evade us forever, and, once Manehattan and the rest of the Eastern Seaboard start helping us, they won't be able to keep even that up for long."
"You've been talking about bringing them in for weeks," Gatha snorted. "What makes this week any different?"
"Starlight's overplayed her hand," Guyard replied. "Guards from Manehattan occupied her base yesterday, and those of her followers who're still with her are all penned up in Hollow Shades. All that's left is for Shining Armor to strike the last blow, and that's less than two days away."
"Hm," Giliz hummed thoughtfully. "While I am glad to hear that, I still say that it should never have been allowed to get this far. If a kingdom wants to stand, it needs to be able to stop those who try to topple it over, ideally without risking being toppled at all. One preemptive strike a month, even a week ago, would have prevented this."
"A preemptive strike by Solartria would've prevented Unification," Guyard replied. "We could debate this all day, Giliz, and I'd be glad to, but we'd never reach an answer; striking early works sometimes, holding back works other times, and we don't know what those times are. All we can do is choose one and hope we chose right."
"I think we can all agree," Gatha grumbled. "That Homestria chose wrong this time. Just like it seems to have chosen wrong, consistently, with regards to Miss Yearling. I can respect allowing the average citizen certain freedoms, but her line of work, and the way she goes about it, makes considering her 'an average citizen' either a joke or an insult."
"While Mrs. Gatha and I have some disagreements regarding freedom," Gordial cleared his throat. "I do agree that Miss Yearling seems to be bound by a dangerously long leash. At the very least, she could at least give you some way to contact her in case she, ah, finds herself in a sensitive situation like this."
"Homestria doesn't own her citizens," Guyard sighed, shaking his head. "Cold as it may sound, Starlight and Yearling are the price of that; something's gotta fall into the pit before we realize we need to put up guardrails around it, and there are too many pits for all those things to be just thoughts. But you're right, we do need to get to putting up some boundaries; we don't own Yearling, but that doesn't mean we don't have any right to make rules for her. First, though, we have to find her. Once again, any of you, is there anyone you can spare?"
All of them shook their heads. "Between keeping order and providing protection from whoever's doing the kidnappings," Giliz sighed. "We need every able hand, eye, and tread here. I'm sorry, Guyard; you're on your own."
"At least," Gatha murmured. "Until the brave Captain Armor finally gets around to crushing that little rebel problem. Then, with the Eastern Seaboard finally actually helping us instead of simply saying that they will, we should be able to free up enough soldiers to catch Homestria's... loose pet."
The call went silent except for static, Gatha's colleagues' eyes bulging. Glenda's jaw dropped; she knew what the old Groverian, along with what felt like a third of the city, thought of Shining Armor, but to hear those thoughts voiced, to a Homestrian diplomat no less, was the epitome of either the bravery Gatha and those like her thought Shining Armor lacked or the recklessness his supporters, like Guyard, thought he avoided.
Speaking of, the ambassador raised an eyebrow at his camera, clearly intending it for the only non-horrified Griffonstonian. "Guto the Rebel was brave," he calmly replied. "Gruff the Host solved his little rebel problem with one dinner. As for loose pets, Grover the Tyrant managed to catch his fairly well, wouldn't you say?"
"We've made peace with our history, sir," Giliz interrupted as Gatha sputtered angrily. "Stop trying to break that peace."
"I'm not," Guyard raised his hands apologetically. "I'm just saying, an active approach poses problems as much as Homestria's more passive approach does. I'm not saying one's better than the other, just that it's not only the passive approach that causes problems."
"One wonders, though," Gordial murmured while Gatha recomposed herself. "Which approach is more problematic."
"That we do," Guyard nodded. "That we do."