//------------------------------// // Part One Hundred & Eleven // Story: The Princess and the Kaiser // by UnknownError //------------------------------// Grover felt the static cling to his feathers a split second before the crack reached his ears. Thunder rumbled outside, and rain still hit the high roof of the hall. The griffon drummed his talons on the tabletop, mildly concerned that the a peal of thunder was in time with the magical burst inside the room. Coincidence, assuredly. Princess Flurry Heart flexed her wings with an apologetic grimace. “Sorry!” Her hooves left a burn mark on the floor rug from the teleport. The alicorn had an open can of something gripped under a wing. “I thought I had enough time to grab something. I was wrong.” She set down a can of diced carrots. Steam wafted out of the open lid, probably fried during the teleport. The alicorn sat down heavily on the cushion set for her, then scooted herself forward with two wing flaps. The jeweled band below her horn caught the chandelier light and the purple gem flashed. Grover became acutely aware the Reichstone was chafing again. It did not seem to matter how often servants fixed the padding. His head feathers itched from having to wear it so often. I wonder if it helped kill father. He stopped drumming his claw on the table. That was a dark thought. He cleared his throat. “Are introductions in order, Princess?” Grover shifted his head to the left to see the alicorn. Flurry Heart sat with Tempest Shadow, Sunset Shimmer, Spike, and Thorax at a table behind the Kaiser. She shoved a glob of carrots into her muzzle and swallowed it whole. “Sure,” she chirped. A wing extended to point to her right. “Dragon Lord Ember, Kaiser Grover VI.” Unlike the other monarchs in the room, the Dragon Lord still wore her war plate. The Bloodstone Scepter rested upright next to her chair. Ember slouched against the table, slightly too tall for a comfortable pose. She leaned on one arm to compensate. Grover was grateful the only other dragoness in attendance was the orange one Gallus identified as Smolder. The other seven landed on Mount Canterhorn in the rain, too large to land within the city comfortably. Several knights of the Opinicus Order still almost flew out to start a fight, but Grandmaster Jürgen was had been expecting a few hotheads to try it. The dragons stayed in the abandoned mines for now, out of the way. “I was referring to Queen Velvet,” Grover explained with a patient tone. He spoke Equestrian for this meeting, the only common language amongst everyone in attendance. He waved a claw to his right. Queen Velvet, already seated with a fine cloak about her lower body, nodded her blue antlers towards the Princess. Five deer sat with her, including the albino twins that Grover disliked. The doe stared at him with intensity, and he was not sure she ever blinked. Her fur was the color of falling snow, the same as her brother. “Princess,” Velvet intoned with her received Equestrian. “It is an honor to see you again.” “The honor is mine,” the Princess accepted. “I would say I remember our meeting, but I was most likely eating diced carrots in a diaper at the time. Not much has changed.” The doe tittered. “Not quite that young, Princess, but close. You have your mother’s grace.” Flurry levitated another clump of carrots into her lean muzzle and swallowed them down. “I have her ears and colors, but little else,” she replied bluntly. Said ears flicked above her unruly, stumpy swirls of a purple and blue mane. The Princess wore the full ensemble of the military uniform including her boots; Grover guessed she anticipated photographs. If she did, she was correct. Griffons sat in the back of the hall with cameras to document the first meeting of a unified front against the Changeling Hegemony. Dragon Lord Ember looked uncomfortable at the occasional flash, but Velvet Jelzek smiled at the cameras when they turned to her. Velvet had no smile for the Princess’ blunt reply. She paused a second too long. “You are too hard on yourself, Princess. You are a beautiful young mare.” Flurry blinked slowly. It made the bags under her eyes seem more prominent. The dark circles were already contrasted by the intense glacial blue of her irises. “I don’t recall horns being blue, Queen Velvet. They are a lovely color.” “They run in the family line of all the trueborn heirs of House Jelzek, Princess.” Velvet smiled at the confirmation of her title. The doe placed her hooves on the table before her. “My brother does not have them.” “The bastard you want dead?” Flurry asked flatly. Velvet’s smile faded. Grover hid a smirk with a claw placed to his cheek. “Yes,” the doe replied equally flatly. “Are we going to begin soon?” Ember growled out from behind the Kaiser. Her claw occasionally reached out to touch the scepter as if she was assuring herself it was within easy reach. That might actually be a concern, considering some of the legends about dragons. “Yes.” Grover removed his claw from the cheek and snapped his talons. The servants in the rafters clicked the projector on with a quiet hum of a crystal. The guards remained wary and alert at the doors, but the side chatter ceased. The only sound now was the rain hitting the roof and stained-glass windows of the east wing. With Field Marshal Bronzetail and the Reichsarmee staff rightfully at the frontlines, Benito walked to the projected map. The dog kept his paws crossed behind his jacket. His sheathed sword clacked against his hip. “Based on intelligence from Royal Advisor Thorax Vrakium, the Olenian Resistance of Queen Velvet Jelzek, and the interrogations from Las Pegasus, this is the situation within the Changeling Hegemony.” His Equestrian was gravelly. Benito raised a paw to his head in a signal. The first picture flashed onto the canvas set up against the far wall. Grover recognized the changeling on sight. I would recognize him even without my glasses. “Hive Marshal Synovial is confirmed to have survived the Battle of the Celestial Plain.” The purple-eyed changeling wore a fez from Fezera in the picture; the buildings behind him were clearly Griffonian. Synovial had an easy, fanged smirk from atop his tank. The photo was over a decade old. It had been taken for the newspapers during the first days of the Changeling mission to the Griffonian Reich. If any were upset at the picture being used, none voiced their emotions. “The Hegemony Heer has reorganized and stalled our advance with the ongoing rainstorms,” Benito continued. “Radio broadcasts continue to be in code.” “We’re working on breaking it,” Thorax interrupted. “The old codes from Las Pegasus indicate they’re purely fighting defensive actions and trying to sort their supply lines.” “Continue,” Grover announced. “Synovial is the only known living relative of Queen Chrysalis,” Benito picked up. “The Queen has no living heir.” The dog paused a moment to look between Grover, Flurry, Velvet, and Ember, but resumed. “The Changelings have always been ruled by Queens. With the suspected elimination of all other claimants, Chrysalis is the final known royal changeling. In the event of the Queen’s death, we believe a military junta led by Synovial will assume control of the Hegemony.” “No,” Thorax chirped with a laugh. “Next ‘ling.” Benito flushed and suppressed a growl, but raised his paw. The next picture was just a silhouette of a changeling with a name underneath it. “Vaspier Orn Kladisium, head of the Vesalipolis Office of Public Safety. VOPS. Chrysalis has made extensive use of the civil branch of the Hegemony to eliminate her rivals after her victory in the Great War.” “VOPS runs most of the Hegemony,” Queen Velvet added. “All of the civil servants behind the Heer’s war machine answer to Vaspier. Most do not know it. Infiltrators and agents are part of everyday life.” “Chrysalis could die tomorrow and they would have a backup in place within ten minutes,” Thorax said from the other side of the room. The Royal Advisor for the Princess looked bored next to Spike. “It wouldn’t last forever, but it would last for a few years.” “Why haven’t they killed her then?” Ember asked. “She’s insane.” Thorax’s wings buzzed against his purple uniform. “Security. Vaspier can’t kill her without sparking a civil war between him and Synovial. They blamed each other for the failures of the wedding invasion.” “All of Vaspier’s power comes from Chrysalis,” Spike rumbled. "He's loyal to her." Thorax gave a hissing hum. "If he kills her, he's the target for every other ambitious 'ling. It opens the door. He won't do it." Benito signaled the projectionists again. The blank shadow changed to an older, rose-eyed changeling in a blue uniform. He stood on the deck of a battleship just below one of the main guns. “Hives Admiral Lysander.” Benito paced. “With the loss of most of the surface fleet of the Hegemony, Lysander’s role was moved into administration. The reports from Las Pegasus indicate he is the unofficial head of the Hegemony’s government under Chrysalis.” “Vaspier still pulls the strings,” Thorax shook his head. “The Reichsarmee is too quick to label every act of sabotage and changeling behind the lines a VOPS agent.” Grover turned to him. “Explain.” “Infiltration units are squads trained in close sabotage of supply lines.” Thorax rolled a hoof on the table. “They’ll kill a few guards, shapeshift into them, plant explosives, then exfiltrate. They’re trained by VOPS, but they aren’t agents.” “I fail to see the difference.” “An actual VOPS agent is briefed for months on a target. They’ll practice dry runs on assassinations, go undercover for weeks as the pony they replaced.” Thorax shifted his eyes around the room. “Or griffon. Or dog. You’re calling some conscript given a grenade and told to throw it from a foxhole a VOPS infiltrator. These aren't trained saboteurs on the front.” “How many agents does Vaspier have, then?” “Ground level, just changelings that report to higher up in the cells. Basic shapeshifting and eavesdropping.” Thorax licked his fangs. “We haven’t encountered actual agents in months, not since the battle. The Hegemony doesn’t need the elite agents for domestic intelligence, and I haven’t killed enough of them to cripple their network. Vaspier pulled his ‘lings back.” “So be it,” Grover shrugged a wing. “We’ll take what we can get.” He glanced up at Benito. The dog nodded. “With the death of Lord Commander Lacin Cardo in Canterlot, the Queen’s Guard has lost their leader. No replacement has been named. Olenian resistance bombed Luftwaffe Marshal Glaive a year ago. The former Hive Marshal Trimmel was killed in the Crystal City-” Flurry Heart snorted. Benito coughed into a paw. “And with the death of Admiral Mimic of the Kreigsmarine's undersea fleet in Las Pegasus, the Hegemony’s military is significantly weakened. These three changelings are the remainders of the old guard.” He signaled the projector to switch back to the map. Equus flashed onto the wall with a rough frontline and scrawled borders. The northwestern peninsula was still black, but the rest was gray. Grover clacked his beak. We should have gone with pink or purple just to see it better. The Princess did not seem to care from her seat. She had finished her can and sat on her flank with her white boots crossed against the sash. She noticed Grover twisting to look back at her and shifted her stare, but he turned back to the map. “Western Equestria was directly ruled by the Hegemony in an attempt to create living space for an expected population boom. There was a concentrated effort around Vanhoover to ‘changelingify’ the area. By all accounts, it failed.” “By all accounts," Thorax echoed, "Changeling civilians are fleeing west. The uncoded broadcasts and documents from Las Pegasus indicate that Chrysalis has forbid further evacuations. Changelings are to stand their ground. They are not.” Ember huffed a plume of smoke. “If anything, it keeps the roads clear for the military,” Grover assessed. “Many in the west would be veterans granted land and conscripted back into service.” “The Reichsarmee’s battle order remains the same,” Benito stated. His voice turned harder. “We do not regard changelings within Equestrian territory as civilians. The Changeling Luftwaffe has bled planes for months; our close air support engages all targets.” “Semantics or not,” Grover began, “every one of them could be a saboteur or VOPS agent. We have enough trouble with the ponies in liberated territory. I am not adding random shapeshifters to the situation. If groups surrender without fighting, they will be shipped east. I have brought over more engineers to expand the camps at Hayston and Albion.” Thorax shrugged his wings and said nothing. “Tempest?” Flurry asked. “Where are we with the militia?” “We can begin a full integration campaign by summer,” the unicorn reported. Tempest Shadow was wearing a gray uniform with black bars on the collar. It was a very simple looking outfit in contrast to the Princess’ jacket. “We’ve already taken over most of the garrison duties east of Canterlot.” “I’ve pulled mages for support with the Reichsarmee,” Sunset Shimmer said slowly. The Archmage’s uniform was a darker gray than Tempest’s, and she had red stars on her sleeves. “Unicorn teams will sweep through after the initial advance for saboteurs. Most ELF veterans know Herzlander, so it's a matter of pairing off with Reichsarmee teams for sweeps.” "We will pair with some of the Knight Charters," Grover offered. “Pegasi on scouts and earth ponies on supply lines,” Spike continued. “Colonel Heartsong is practicing unit drills in the Empire.” “Olenia remains the final protectorate within Changeling control,” Benito refocused. “Chrysalis recognized King Johan Jelzek after their surrender in the Summer War. The administration is based in Hjortland.” The projection shimmered to the Olenian Peninsula. Rocky, mountainous, and snowy, Olenia was well-positioned for a grueling defensive war against the Changeling Lands. However, the Olenian military had not been prepared for the shock assaults with panzers, and Johan’s government formally surrendered long before the Changelings could push through the mountain passes. Equestria had not stirred in the south, and Johan was diplomatically isolated by Velvet’s maneuvering. From what Grover remembered, the surrender still came as a surprise to everyone, even the embassy. The deer were only an obstacle to the real prize Chrysalis desired. Olenia had been left alone after initial territorial concessions and the implementation of the Love Tax. Grover spared a glance at the fuming Queen Velvet. The doe almost snarled at the map. The generous terms were all a lie, of course. Deer prisoners were left cocooned and drained for the proper war. Some were conscripted into cannon fodder to be thrown ahead of the blitzkrieg. Deer were relocated into factory towns and worked under changeling overseers. Everything the Hegemony had done in Equestria, they had first tried in Olenia. And it worked. Grover propped his beak up with his claws. How did they not see what was on their doorstep? Flurry Heart's muzzle was pressed thin with hooded eyes. There were political factors. Velvet never asked Equestria to intercede in her squabbling with her brother. Johan had claimed the throne with accusations that Velvet was an Equestrian puppet. When she ran to Equestria to seek shelter, that accusation seemed true. And the Princess of the Sun could not justify a military intervention into Olenia regardless. King Johan’s rule was consumed with rewarding the deer that backed him to avoid being overthrown himself, not preparations against the unified Changeling Lands. Olenia’s fate was sealed long before the tanks rolled into Vaverfront. Grover switched angles to peer over at the Princess. Just like Equestria. Nearly like the Reich, had Aunt Gabriela’s madness persisted. Hjortland rested on a splinter off the Olenian Peninsula, positioned away from Vanhoover Bay and north of Las Pegasus. The deer had always been seafarers and explorers after climbing their mountain peaks. The capital of the Olenian Protectorate was far from the Changeling Lands and a beautiful port city. “Queen Velvet’s resistance is based in the mountain ranges surrounding the coast.” Benito pointed vaguely to several of the ranges. “Raids have confirmed that most of the Changeling garrisons have been pulled and left to the deer loyal to Johan. “With the loss of the south and the Crystal Empire, Olenia remains the last oil source for the Changeling Hegemony. Eliminating their access will starve the Heer of resources.” Benito folded his arms. “Army Group North and South will merge with Army Group Center into one large frontline that will sweep across western Equestria.” “I saw your supply lines get bogged down in mud,” Ember remarked. “The rain’s intense even on dragon scale.” A round of thunder answered the dragoness before anyone else could. “Agreed,” Grover said behind him. “Princess?” The alicorn blinked and suppressed a yawn. Her lips twitched. “I’m ready to lower the shield across the Crystal Empire. That should fix the weather. Or make it suck less.” “We can hold the mountains with Yak teams and crystal ponies,” Tempest announced. “The north is still snow, permafrost, and tundra. They won’t be able to push quickly, but neither can we. They’ve dug out a few mountain holds in the northern Changeling Lands. Clearing them will be work.” “The Yaks seem eager,” the Princess said to her commander. “Yes.” The unicorn’s muzzle was grim. “Flamethrowers. We’re calling it blowtorch and corkscrew between the crystal pony demolitions teams and mountaineers. Mountain artillery will do the rest.” “Good. I’ll have a look once I’m back in the Empire.” “This meeting is to solidify the war plan for the coming spring and summer,” Grover said. “The Reichsarmee will be reorganized into one army group under Field Marshal Bronzetail. The Imperial Army will hold the north. The New Marelander contingent is remaining in Las Pegasus with the air bases.” Benito waved his paw and the projection shimmered. Arrows flew from Las Pegasus to Hjortland and the splinter off the Olenian Peninsula. “Las Pegasus will be the base for a divisionary raid into Olenia.” “New Mareland wanted to try that in the war,” Spike dismissed. “The submarines are too intensive.” “Except my army flies,” Grover announced with a touch of smugness. “And so do dragons.” Dragon Lord Ember and Queen Velvet shifted in their seats. “Excuse me?” Ember growled. “The shield has remained useful, but opening up another front for the Changelings will stretch their forces thin.” Grover drummed his talons along his table, spearing a few loose pages. “Without Olenian oil, the Changelings will gnaw through their reserves. I certainly cannot make use of it; the submarines are a problem.” “You want the dragons to ignite the oil wells,” the Princess connected. “I haven’t agreed to anything,” Ember remarked with a huff. Grover turned around in his chair. The Dragon Lord was far taller than all but Spike, and a plume of smoke left her nostrils. “Neither have I,” Velvet scoffed. “Excuse me, but I do not want overgrown lizards scorching my kingdom. Olenia has suffered enough.” Ember traded the glare at Grover for a glare at the doe. Smolder clenched a fist and hissed. Velvet sniffed back. “I am sorry, but I cannot agree to this.” “The dragons are already in the south and can be easily positioned for a shock and awe strike over Olenia,” Grover frowned. “Olenia can be liberated before the final push into the Changeling Lands.” “Use the beasts on the frontline,” Velvet waved a cloven hoof. “I would not call torching my land ‘liberation,’ dear Kaiser.” “If all deer are like her,” Ember growled, “I don’t think I want to help.” “I cannot use dragons on the front,” Grover said flatly. He removed his glasses and rubbed them on his sleeve. A wing raised and he counted down on his feathers. “Firstly, the Changelings have anti-air and piercing rounds on the frontline. Secondly, I have to divert my air force to allow them to fly unimpeded as less functional air support. Thirdly, each elder dragon is worth a battalion, but eats thrice that. My supply lines are strained enough.” Grover replaced his glasses and twisted back around to face the map and Benito. “Olenian anti-air is sparse compared to the Changeling Lands and the west. Dragons will be most effective on the peninsula. I will have trailblazers and pioneers as support, but even a small force can overwhelm the Olenian garrisons and whatever Changeling commanders remain.” “I am not burning Olenia to the ground for you,” Ember said flatly. “Do it yourself, cub.” “Fine!” Grover suddenly laughed. He flapped his wings and launched up to Benito, turning around at the makeshift stage. He stared down his beak at the three seated monarchs. Princess Flurry Heart looked tired. She traded a few looks between Spike and Thorax, but was otherwise slumped on the table. Queen Velvet had straightened as best she could in her chair, forehooves planted to keep her steady. Her furious, cool blue eyes glared between the Dragon Lord and the Kaiser. Ember kept her claw on her staff, but remained seated. “Queen Velvet,” Grover began, “you have remained obtuse with the numbers of your resistance, but I estimate less than 50,000 deer in total are ready for an uprising.” He turned to regard Ember. “Dragon Lord, General Mudbeak’s scouts counted less than a thousand dragons. I allowed them to rampage across the south because I could not reach any dragon in command for weeks at a time.” The Kaiser glanced at the Princess. “How many ponies do you have in your army?” Flurry rolled her yes to Tempest Shadow. “How many do we got?” The mulberry unicorn inhaled. “With the recent training-” “Right now,” Flurry interrupted. “Best guess.” “300,000,” Tempest deflated. “Split between the Empire and Equestria. Maybe half a million counting militias.” “I have two and a half million griffons on this continent,” Grover announced. He raised his wings and glowered over the rims of his glasses. “Another million remain on Griffonia. I have the largest army in the history of the world. We still control the railways across Equestria, and my ships sail across the ocean ferrying supplies. A thousand dragons, a few thousand deer, and a few hundred thousand ponies cannot hold back the Changeling Hegemony combined.” “I’m not impressed, cub,” Ember remarked dryly. “Then leave. I shall use my original war plan before you arrived late.” Grover shrugged his wings. “My strategic bombers will hit Olenia and cut off the oil wells. As I said, the anti-air is weak.” Grover rolled his eyes to Queen Velvet. “My army will launch an aerial assault unaided. Your resistance would be essential in avoiding unnecessary casualties. Strange as it is, dragons are less damaging than thousands of bombs.” Queen Velvet and Dragon Lord Ember stopped glaring at the Kaiser and looked to each other. Ember’s tail swung around the back of her chair; the wood creaked when she leaned back. The wind whipped more rain into the roof above the chandeliers. Queen Velvet tossed her mane back over her horns and affected a cool, casual look of consideration. “Whatever damage is done as part of your war plan will be paid back to Olenia postwar,” Velvet demanded. It was a pointless concession; Olenia would need significant rebuilding. “I already have an economic reconstruction plan,” Grover replied. “I would also like to setup training camps in the south for the upcoming invasion. The younger dragons can be drilled in small-unit tactics under Reichsarmee officers.” “I am in command,” Ember retorted with a plume of smoke. “Everything is run by me, and I land in the first wave.” She spun the Bloodstone Scepter around with a claw. The jewel hummed. “Does that mean we are in agreement, Dragon Lord?” the Kaiser asked. Dragon Lord Ember and Queen Velvet looked to Princess Flurry Heart. The alicorn raised her head up from its resting place on an upturned hoof. She bit her lip while her ears pinned back. They expect her to deny it. “It sounds like a good plan,” Flurry Heart accepted with a wince. “If we knock Olenia out of the war and open up the shield, the Hegemony will be pushed back to its original borders except in western Equestria. They’re surrounded on northwest Equus.” “You would say different if it was your home being burned,” Velvet snorted. “No.” Flurry’s eyes hardened. “I would not, Queen Velvet. Equestria and the Empire will help you rebuild as best we can.” Velvet bared her teeth at the wall for a moment, then stared up at the Kaiser. “I will be acclaimed on the radio as the rightful Queen of Olenia and heir of my father, Aldar II. I will make landfall with whatever dragons and griffons are sent. My brother is mine.” “Agreed,” Grover said from the stage. “The fate of deer collaborators remains your prerogative, Queen Velvet.” “The coming weeks will be busy,” Thorax offered. “The Princess will return to the Crystal Empire in preparation for the shield.” “I will return to the south with…Queen Velvet.” Ember gave the doe a dark look with her red eyes. “We will prepare for the flight to Olenia. I agree if your offer comes with equipment." Grover did not bother hiding the smile on his cheeks. Not like you have factories to produce it yourself. "Of course." Queen Velvet unfolded her forehooves and sighed. “So be it. We’ll organize the resistance to soften the initial landings. After taking Hjortland and executing my brother, pushing up the peninsula will be easier than pushing down from the Changeling Lands.” The Kaiser nodded from the stage. His tail swished behind him. Welcome to the Reichspakt, everyone. He did not say it aloud. Seems rude. No need to twist the knife. The albino doe stood beside her Queen. She cocked her head, switching between the griffon and the dog ahead of her. Grover glanced at her with a side-eye. She still did not blink, staring blankly into the griffon’s glasses. The doe opened her mouth and spoke with a lilt. Grover did not recognize the language, but guessed it was Olenian. Velvet nickered and waved a hoof. The albino stag stood up and pushed his sister back down. “Forgive Floki,” Velvet demurred. “She sees far and wide, but not always accurately.” “I do not know Olenian,” Grover answered. “What did she say?” Velvet flushed and waved a hoof as if it did not matter, but the twin stag glanced up. “The dog will kill you. Or you will kill him. A head will roll from a body.” The dog in question snarled and drew his sword. Grover waved him back with a wing. “Peace, Benito.” Unless you intend to prove her mushroom-induced visions correct in this instance. Benito sheathed his sword with a hard slap. “Mind your tongue,” he barked. “You’re not the first white-furred freak to meet this blade.” The Kaiser rolled his eyes. “Unless there are more…divinations, that is all. Field Marshal Bronzetail will command the western push. Nothing can happen until the shield is brought down.” “I’ll get right on it,” Flurry yawned. Grover checked his watch. It was nearly sunset, not that it was easy to tell with the clouds and constant rain. Benito raised a paw and the projection shimmered away. The dogs standing guard opened the doors to the hall and magic pulsed through the room as the wards were brought down. Sunset Shimmer and Tempest Shadow left with a few lower officers, followed by Dragon Lord Ember. Smolder split off to talk to Gallus in the hallway. Ember lingered uncertainly, slinging her Bloodstone Scepter on her back. She eyed Spike and Thorax speaking quietly with Flurry Heart. Spike caught her look, but shifted his eyes down to Flurry. A claw brushed against Thorax and the changeling broke off to talk to the dragoness. Queen Velvet was helped out by her deer to the guest quarters. The albino doe still did not blink, and her eyes seemed to split and stare at Benito and Grover together. Grover suppressed a mild shudder and affected a look of disinterest. “I am not well-versed on Olenian magic,” Grover admitted to Benito. “I suspect it is more mushrooms and hallucinogens than most would admit.” “No doubt,” Benito scoffed. His eyes narrowed at the retreating deer. Grover looked over to the Princess. She had pushed herself out of the chair and followed Spike out of the room. Her wings sagged slightly against the purple jacket, and one rear leg dragged a black boot on the tile. “Perhaps I should have given her more time to rest,” Grover said aloud. “No,” Benito retorted. “The Element of Loyalty and Element of Generosity’s screaming matches rang through the castle for the past two days. Her fatigue has nothing to do with this meeting.” Grover hummed and watched the six jewels on her crystal band flash in the hallway light as she vanished around a corner. The Holy Book of Boreas made no mention of the Elements of Harmony, nor the Pillars of Harmony. A few heretical sects attempted to combine the worship of Boreas, Arcturius, and Eyr with the tenets of Harmony, but few rarely made sense. Most defaulted to worshipping some local spirit and mixing whatever they wanted into it. I suppose I should be grateful I never heard Boreas speak to me. The absence would be staggering. “When Griffonstone lost the Idol of Boreas, the entire kingdom plunged into disarray,” Grover commented to the dog. “The decline of the Reich started with the loss of the Gods.” “Your father’s regent was meant to be Guto VI,” Benito reminded him. “It was not just the loss of the Idol. The death of the cadet branch in Griffonstone did more damage to the court than the Idol. Even Grover II did not wield its power like his father.” “Then the seeds of our destruction were sown long before they sprouted,” Grover returned. He stepped off the stage and returned to his table. Sir Erreck and Sir Ewing gathered his papers. Relatively alone, he set the crown down and cracked his neck. “Have a bath drawn. It has been a long day.” “My Kaiser,” Sir Erreck confirmed. Grover flipped through the papers to find the summary of General Petroleum’s assets. Even under the Changeling Hegemony, Rockfeller controlled most of the railways and the infrastructure of the south. Like Skyfall. Ghislain Guiscard was mayor, but seized the ports during the Revolution. His coin owned the entire city before and after. Skyfall might’ve pretended to be a republic like Aquileia, but it was Guiscard’s niece Genevieve that followed him. And now it’s Governor “Paddy” Rose Rockfeller. The Princess did not seem the type to reward sycophants, but the irony was not lost on Grover VI. Stopping a pie fight seems inconsequential to stopping large-scale corruption. The griffon paused with a claw on the hollowed-out Friendship Journal. “I shall travel with her to the Crystal City.” He placed the journal in his satchel. “My Kaiser?” Benito said warningly. “Not with her,” Grover clacked his beak. “Blessed Boreas, that is asking for an ambush. I will meet her at the shield.” “There is no need.” “I disagree,” Grover countered. “It is the oldest city in the world and over thrice the age of Griffenheim. It is worth seeing. And the Crystal Heart is one of the few artifacts left in the world still functioning.” “Bless Boreas for that,” Sir Erreck muttered. “Going near the shield makes our armor itch, my Kaiser. The enchantments react poorly.” Grover unclipped his holster and stuffed the pistol into his satchel as well. “We can take one of the tunnels if it comes to it.” “My Kaiser…” Benito whined. “I am safer under the shield than outside it,” Grover sighed. “Benito, it fries changelings. If we are worried about assassins, you should celebrate I am going further away from the frontline. We have time to prepare false escorts.” The dog’s ears twitched. For a moment, Grover thought the dog would actually say, “You just want to spend time with her because she looks sad,” but it was not to be. Benito bit his lip and huffed. “As you command, my Kaiser.”