“That's it? That’s your grand plan?”

“Yes, what of it?”

“You can’t be serious.”

“It’s a watertight plan, nothing can go wrong.”

Silence ensued. The carriage bumped occasionally, trundling along at a slow pace. The horses whinnied as the driver cracked his whip.

“Listen to yourself, it’s preposterous. Surely, there’s another way?”

“No, there isn’t, I want to make a strong first impression. I’ve been gone for a long time, they’d never expect it.”

“Half the town knows already, Frederick.”Trinity plucked a loose end from his coat, “And in these threadbare clothes? First impression. my arse.”

“I was on a ship for a month, Trinity. Sorry I couldn’t conjure up a tailor. Also, mind your damned language.”

“Oh shut up, is basic needlework too much for the high and mighty Prince? Give me your coat.”

Frederick relented, and handed it over. Withdrawing a sewing kit from the confines of her bag, Trinity took delicate care in finding and repairing what she could. Frederick watched her coarse hands work magic upon the wearied coat, restoring it from a beggar’s coverings to something at least a little more presentable. He noticed a pendant hanging by her throat, rocking with the motion of the carriage. Catching his eyes, Trinity frowned, and the Prince turned to his friend.

“Gridion, where on earth are the twins? I told them to meet with us at the tavern.”

“No clue.” Gridion tussled with his hair, bemoaning over it’s unwillingness to bend to his will. Giving up, he donned a cap instead. “Last I saw, they were fast asleep in the ship hold, they haven’t come ashore yet by my guess.”

Gunther looked the best of them all, his uniform appeared unsoiled, but not sparkling. He had taken great lengths in preparing himself, and even a small pinch of powder appeared to blossom on his cheeks. After an initial burst of laughter from the group, the novelty of it died down, but Gunther stayed sour.

“Might I ask how you’ll enter the hall, Sir?” he queried.

“Through the front door.”

“As wise as you are, Sir, could you be more specific?”

“Well, my friend.” Frederick stood, almost smacking his head against the roof. He lifted a leg and put it up on the seat, thrusting an arm towards the skies, “I’ll be seen as the courageous, military genius. Surely my exploits have come far, and reached the ears of the commonfolk and the gentry alike. Statues will be erected in my honor, and I will have many a fair maiden swoon-”

“Sit down you fool!” Trinity exclaimed. Frederick obeyed. “I haven’t heard anything about you, these past years. You’re a nobody around here, Frederick, you’ll need to get favours, build your reputation from the ground up. This is no time to joke around.”

Erwin, seated at the front with the driver, opened the window and agreed gravely.

“My Prince, there are many competitors to your seat. Most of them have already made their moves, whereas you have not .”

Frederick processed this, and looked out the window. These buildings and walls had been familiar once, but now they were as unknown to him as the Romanov shores all those years ago. He watched children frolic in the muddy ruin of the roads, and something about that made him remember. What exactly, he could not define, but he was sure that it was important.

“Tell me about my rivals.”

“Well, there are three major ones. The first is the Lord Protector, Marshal Ibenstraum, are you familiar with him?” Frederick nodded. That man had been the bane of his tutoring sessions as a lad, a man with a weakened arm still wielded a paddle with surprising strength. Erwin cleared his throat, “As a man of high position, Ibenstraum has served this country for his entire life, and that is no small feat, he is turning 70 this year. Naturally, in the course of his career, he has made many, many friends and allies, and is wise in his choice of enemies too. But he is old, and not as stout as he once was. Regardless, he can push you out of favour within a heartbeat, should you antagonise him.”

“The second is a man by the name of Hardings, you wouldn’t know him, he’s new to the city. However, he is sponsored generously by a multitude of banks and industries, some of which he owns himself. The man is rich, wealthy beyond belief, and a political favourite of the elite and has many Albionic backers, which counts for much. He also has the endorsement of the crime families, and uses them to control certain regions and areas of importance.” Erwin shuddered, “Their methods are unsavoury, but they work, by god, they do.”

“And last?”

“Alas, I know very little. As a man of finance, I have had previous dealings with both Ibenstraum and Hardings, but this last candidate, I have only heard rumours of.”

“Who is he?”

“Her, who is her, your Majesty. Her name is Lily Orshen, or something along those lines. She’s the daughter of some noble, an upperclassman’s daughter, so probably spoilt and has the temper-”

Trinity cleared her throat.

“Sorry, dear. Well, I can tell you one thing, and that is the fact that she’s considered as an angel, beautiful and kind. With the wits to match. She has no open supporters, but it’s obvious that when the time comes, she will.”

“Lily, huh?” Frederick mused for a while. Where have I heard that name before?

“Uh, when you said ‘Ibenstraum is not as stout as he once was’, does that mean he can’t get it up?” Gridion piped up.

Erwin blinked.

“No, my boy.”

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The sun beat down on the fields, rays of light unhindered by no clouds to be seen. Cattle plodded around, grazing lazily and beating lashes at bypassers. A single figure stood in a field, using a knife to cut at the stalks of corn, shoving the spoils into a canvas bag by her side. A sharp pip from behind startled the figure. Turning, she saw nothing, but the endless passages of corn. Thinking of it as nothing else than a bird, she went back to work. No less than a few seconds later, the sound started again, only to find nothing again. Half turning, the figure whipped around just as the pips initiated, and caught a small girl with hair styled into wispy pigtails giggled. Smiling, the figure took off her sunhat, letting out a cascade of brunette hair, and nuzzled the girl by the nose.

“Eleanor, I told you not to follow me!” she dismayed at the sight of the girl’s clothes muddied and dirty, “Oh you’ll need another bath, you just had one yesterday.”

“Sorry, Amelia, I was bored, there was nothing to do.”

“You’re lucky you’re so cute.” Amelia took Eleanor by her underarms, and launched her up onto her shoulders, Eleanor shrieking with delight. “Where are the rest of your sisters?”

“They’re inside, Dorothy’s out at the market looking after the stall.”

“That’s very good, I think I have enough now, let’s make our way home. Could you tell me which way to go?”

Eleanor surveyed the fields atop her sister, and pointed eagerly north. “That way!”

Smiling, Amerlia winded around the stalks, humming a tune as she went.

An hour later, she came to see her home, a barn reconstructed into a more suitable environment for her 4 sisters, adorned with decorations and hand paintings, Childish shapes scribbled all over the wooden exterior. Outside the door stood a haughty Dorothy, weighed down by a misshapen sack. The second eldest, she managed the stall and was familiar with the city, responsible and mature.

“Was the market packed?”

“Not really, but I sold off most of what we had.” Amelia opened up the sack and clasped a bunch of coppers. “I managed to get 5 pennies to every kilogram. It's not what I would've wanted.”

“You did great, Dorothy. Now, would you give Eleanor here a bath, and I’ll get started on dinner.”

Taking the youngest sister by the hand, Dorothy waked off, and Amelia stepped after her. Opening the door, she was greeted by Catherine and Ella, who clamored for food. Both were a year apart, though Catherine was taller despite being younger.

“I’m on it, girls.” Amelia donned an apron, and opened the pantry. “How was school today?”

“Marcus kissed Catherine.” squealed Ella. Turning beet red, Catherine locked her hands together.

“It was only on the cheek! And anyway, I know you like Hubert.”

It was Ella’s turn to be embarrassed, and they started to bicker. Amelia laughed, and chopped into several vegetables, dropping them in a sizable pot. She plucked a chicken and seasoned it lightly with herbs, garlic and a few drops of lemon. Dorothy returned with a sparkling Eleanor, who ran amok. Their home looked large from the outside, but they were hard pressed for space, and shared it with what few animals they had left. A sheep entered, gnawing on a tuft of grass, and attempted to reach up toward the pot, sensing something more delectable than greens. Swatted away, it ambled and settled down on the floor, used as a pillow by Dorothy.

“It wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t told him, you know.” mused Catherine, jabbed a finger at Ella.

“Would you two settle down, please?” Amelia allowed the food to simmer, and set to work on preparing the table. "Who is this Marcus and Hubert, then?"

"Nobody." they both said in sync, and the sisters took their places. Eleanor returned with a band of dirt around her forehead, and Dorothy sighed. There was a knock on the door. The house froze. It was late at night, and they had not expected visitors.

"Stay here." Amelia took the knife from the counter, and walked over to the door. "Who is it?"

"Miss Reiss?" a muffled voice called, "Does a Miss Reiss live here by any chance?"

"She does." Amelia replied, "What do you need?"

"It's about your living conditions, I'm from the Ministry of the Interior, madam."

"Wait here."

She entered the living room, and shooed away her sisters, who scurried up a ladder to the barn's top level. Returning, she opened the door. A man in a trenchcoat, and crushed hat stood in a light drizzle. His face was round, but was comforting and sympathetic.

"Do come in, I'm sure we have things to discuss."

"Oh yes, we do, thank you very kindly."

The man ducked his head into the barn, and took off his hat.

"Take a seat, mister?"

"Mister Terris, madam."

"Mister Terris, I was just cooking a stew, would you like some?"

"Oh no, I couldn't intrude at all-"

"Oh it's no bother."

She ladled some stew into the best china bowl she had, and handed it to Mister Terris, who accepted it graciously. Taking a spoonful, he was clearly pleased, and his cheeks reddened a little, pale from the rain before.

"This is most wonderful, madam Reiss." he took some more hearty spoons.

"Yes, it was my father's recipe, Sir."

At the mention of her father, Mister Terris paused mid-spoon. He set down the bowl, and tugged at his collar.

"Yes, about your father." he reddened ever so slightly, "After his... untimely death, am I correct in assuming you and your sisters were left alone, without a guardian to speak of?"

"That is correct, Sir. My mother died having Eleanor."

"You have been through many misfortunes, madam, I do pass on my condolences." Mister Terris fidgeted with his fingers. "But it has come to the attentions of the Interior, that orphaned children without a guardian must be relocated."

Eleanor was dumbfounded.

"But I'm their guardian, I'll be turning twenty-one soon-"

"That is true, you are of the legal age, but madam, a guardian, according to our guidelines, must have a stable income."

"I work the fields, send back shipments to the City."

"Yes, the problem is, you're working fields that do not belong to you."

"I'm sorry?"

Mister Terris turned his sad eyes towards the floor.

"Problem is, when the holder of land dies, it is passed down to the next of kin." he produced a paper from his coat. "That is, the next of kin must be either a male, or a married woman. You madam, are working fields that have been reallocated, technically stealing and bartering goods that are not yours, therefore, not a stable income."

"Who does the land belong to then?"

Mister Terris gave the paper over. Amelia read it through once, then twice, and sat crestfallen.

To whomever this may concern,

The area of land once owned by a Mr Peter Reiss has been forfeited to the Hardings Company following his death and no known commitance to an heir/heiress. This encompasses an area of 4km squared that provides crops of the origin :

Corn, Maize, Wheat

The area of land that this does not regard is :

1 Barn - Located atop a hill to the West of the aforementioned hill

including livestock housed at this barn.

In order to compensate for this, 300 silvers will be provided to the previous unofficial owners of this land.

- Hardings Company, Legal Division.

A clock in the corner of the room ticked away. Mister Terries looked even more uncomfortable, and shuffled.

"Please leave my house." Amelia whispered.

"I'm sorry, madam?"

"Please, leave my house, Mister Terries."

"I'll need your acknowledgment that this contract is understood, Miss Reiss."

"Mister Terries, I shan't ask again."

"Madam, you need to understand one thing." Mister Terries donned his hat, and stood. He looked fearful. "Mister Hardings will not take kindly to this, I beg of you to reconsider. He is a most powerful man."

A movement out of the corner of his eye alerted him. Eleanor watched the portly man from the rafters, curiously. Mister Terries chuckled, and tipped his hat. Eleanor grinned in response.

"I am dearly sorry for the bad news, Madam." he stopped, and placed a pouch upon the table. "The stew was most delightful, my thanks."

And with that, he turned and left. Amelia could only murmur,

"I hate them all."

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They were right there, he knew they were. A blast of sea spray spittled all over the deck again, and men worked hard to ensure the sails were flayed out. Rolling around were bottles of rum and personal effects, all forgotten in the storm. Edmund struck up a song, yelling out in rough timbre as his lads kept the Bitterwind at a speedy pace. Just ahead was the outline of a slightly smaller ship, nimble and more maneuverable in the midst of the explosive power of the gods as they rocked the waves. Rain poured, men cried out, and battle was approaching.