Kazelia sighs. "First, I intend to defeat Father. Utterly, finally and completely. There's no redeeming him, and whatever facade he wears as a man is just a mask for his selfish essence. That is...a grim thing to say, I admit." She nods to Ninian more to Azora, who she suspects understands the nature of these things a bit already. "I also need to manage that without...giving myself up. I've taken the Void into myself, there's every chance that whatever ends up happening with Father, I don't come out of it as a normal person who can just walk around the world and eat spicy sausages with couscous." She sighs again. "And I don't want that. I'll do what I have to do, but I don't want it. I'm not done here. We've all been in Hyperborea only a few years. And I promised Mother when she came to me that I would show her this world. Full of life and joy and kisses! If I'm able, I'm going to stay with my friends, perhaps I'll live in Illumina. I think I ought to travel though. I might give concerts, write some kind of ode to all of this, tell our story to all the kingdoms and write new songs. Maybe Ourania will even invite me to Argossa to perform there. I'd love to have tea with the Sun again.

Kazelia lets herself ramble like this. Maybe Azora and Ninian would see the effect Hyperborea could have on people. The way she thought about grand things and little things all right next to each other. If she could try to nail it down, that was the beauty of this little world. It had cat hugs and good food next to vast serpents and a queen whose soul was fire who lived on a great stone tree that was the very pillar of the world. Vast and beautiful and tiny and personal all wrapped up together. Ah, if only Oberon could see it, could understand that others things had the right to just be as they were outside of him. Then maybe everything could be different.

Alina!

“I have been quite busy since my return to my kingdom,” Shazari says, flexing how important she is. Ugh! Is it always going to be like this, the back and forth duel? “My sister was instrumental in informing me of what you have been doing while I helped our husband mend. Evidently, you not only saved the entirety of Hyperborea’s royalty at the Crystal Gala, but also resisted the temptation to take up possession of the Wicked Queen’s power and not only saved the Bazaar but created an intriguing opportunity in the process.” Of course she’d be thinking about how to leverage the Watch’s chaos (you should ask Adila how they’re taking the return of Old Adila next time you see her) for Jedad’s advantage, but also... this is much more complimentary than you were expecting. What is she doing?

“When I was deceived by Ninian, the Rider, I allowed her to guide me into open hatred of you. I was easily convinced that your contempt for our sovereign pride and need to flaunt your own puissance had induced you to steal our most sacred treasure, kidnap my sister, and threaten everything I hold dear. And yet every action you have taken during my absence has proven that I was not only wrong, I was unworthy of judging you so. I let our rivalry blind me to your virtue.”

Shazari, Princess of Jedad, kneels before you and bows her head, which is now about level with your collarbone. “I must beg for your forgiveness. Without it, my guilt will gnaw at my bones until I am undone, a wreck bereft of hope among the dunes.”

***

Adila!

“The first thing that you will do,” the Captain says in a voice that brooks no disagreement, “is apprehend Oberon Greymane and deliver him to justice. No princess of the Watch would give up on her case halfway through the pursuit. Do you want me to die of shame?”

Oh no the nightmare is real you are getting scolded oh noooo

“Then... I don’t doubt you’ll want to travel. See Feloria. Or Devilhome.” Her smile is a knife, and one you’re glad isn’t at your throat. “Go off and explore Hyperborea." Which... doesn't answer the question of what she intends to do. Of course she's holding that close to her chest. Hard to ferret that out of one of the oldest members of the Watch around.

***

Kazelia!

Azora’s smile is beautiful. It’s honest and amused all in one. It’s the first time in a very long time that such a smile wasn’t at someone else’s expense—

That’s when the lariat falls down over your shoulders and cinches tight, pressing you up against your seat. Oh. It was, in fact, a smile at your expense.

“Hello, Rita,” Ninian chirps, as you’re grabbed from behind, a sweet-smelling glove clamped over your mouth. “Did we do a good job of distracting her?”

Traitors!!

“You did a great job,” Rita chirps! “Good signal.” She conspired with Ninian, huh? That gleeful grin on her face is very much the Ninian you know and love.

“Now, since you did ask,” Azora says, as Rita loops her line around and around your chest, pinning your arms to your sides, freeing your mouth up, “I think I will take to the more... martial aspects of life here. I know more about magic than any of the silly witches here; it is kidnapping where the true challenge lies.” She floats a scarf across the table and rubs it teasingly against your cheeks. “As soon as our father is defeated, the kingdoms of this world will begin fierce competition to capitalize on the instability he caused, and a skilled defeater of princesses will be highly valued.”

“Especially if she’s vouched for by the saviors of Hyperborea,” Rita says, finishing her knot work and letting Azora drape the scarf across her palm. “Though you are doing no vouching today.”

Adila!

“The first thing that you will do,” the Captain says in a voice that brooks no disagreement, “is apprehend Oberon Greymane and deliver him to justice. No princess of the Watch would give up on her case halfway through the pursuit. Do you want me to die of shame?”

Oh no the nightmare is real you are getting scolded oh noooo

+Oh, was I supposed to apprehend him?+ thought Adila with daring sweetness. +On what charge? As far as I recall he's never even set foot in the Bazaar. Out of our jurisdiction, I think - and not to mention I was never formally assigned to that case.+

Her tongue darted out to dip in the fizzing orange-flavoured beer, enjoying the way it bubbled. +Captain, I'm afraid you forever lost your chance to make this a formal Watch matter. When I kick the stuffing out of Oberon Greymane it will be entirely as my own project.+

“Then... I don’t doubt you’ll want to travel. See Feloria. Or Devilhome.” Her smile is a knife, and one you’re glad isn’t at your throat. “Go off and explore Hyperborea." Which... doesn't answer the question of what she intends to do. Of course she's holding that close to her chest. Hard to ferret that out of one of the oldest members of the Watch around.

+Honestly I have had enough of travel for the time being,+ thought Adila. +The world is vast and beautiful, yes, I was silly to not want to see it - but as soon as this is done what I'm looking forwards to the most is getting my garden back into shape.+

It's feral back there. She'd almost thought she'd gone through the Labyrinth wrong and wound up in Feloria somehow. She's looking forwards to the work, but she's also updated her process for handling mysterious gifts of seeds from Dandy.

+But after that...+ urgh she still couldn't even begin to process. +So, how about you, Captain? Askaian beach house? Crocheting club? Going down to the House of Guests and putting it all on black?+

She's so startled she forgets to check around her and see if this is an ambush. Alina squeaks, because that's the sound she can make right now. And then she flushes a darling shade of pink, because that's the thing that she can do right now. Her eyes are wide and her face is tense with pure bewilderment and she's looking down at Shazari's head and this has never happened before. She has no language for this. There aren't any cards in her hand for her to play anymore.

And speaking of her hand, she just barely manages to notice that one of hers is sneaking forward on its own to touch Shazari's shoulder. Maybe to pat it? She freezes a mere second before disaster strikes, but now her hand's just sort of awkwardly hovering there, which is at least as bad.

"Please, there's no need for... under your circumstances, I would have thought the same of... you have nothing to..."

Nowhere in Illumina do they teach their princesses to mumble like this. But if they did, no one would be better at it than Alina Cascade is right now. Second after awkward second ticks by and all she's done is make an idiot of herself. But then, as if by magic, she finds her breathing again. And after that, her heart. And then, finally, her words. Her hand drops down that final impossible inch, and she brushes the shoulder of her oldest and fiercest rival.

"For what it's worth, I forgive you. Ninian has tricked a lot of people, and her father even more than her. You were doing your part as the Princess of Jedad, for your land, for your mother, for your people, for your... um, snake, and for your sister. I couldn't ask more from Ourania herself. So just, please, stand up Shazari. This is embarrassing."

There are some who say that Alina's heart grew three sizes that day. All of them live in the Bazaar. That's just the way of things. People talk. Rivalries continue. But for one very tiny moment, perhaps, two princesses understood each other, even though their lives had taught them not to come together like this. Perhaps not to even try. There's a quiet magic in this instant that almost matches the raw power of the Caduceus.

Plus, if she's magnanimous enough for long enough right now, she might be able to skip town again without having to talk about any crown jewels that may or may not be where they're supposed to be right now. One more slip out from this snare, and she's free forever. Or at least until she has to write the letter inviting Shazari to Illumina to discuss reopening trade for the first time in ages. Maybe even... no, she's getting ahead of herself. Free forever. Free forever! She'll be a legend!

"You fiends!" Kazelia shouts, trying without success to keep the grin off her face. "Betrayers! I thought my sisters had reformed, but instead you've conspired with the most wanted Askaian in all of Hyperborea!" Kazelia shakes her head in utter disbelief, that being the only part of her left that can do any shaking (perhaps a lower leg, but that would be both pointless and embarrassing). "I suppose now she's going to whisk me off and you're just going to let her, your poor sister, so recently reunited and mrrrrrrrrph!" Kazelia was right in the middle of her kidnapping monologue when Rita threw the scarf over her mouth. The utter, perfectly timed, indignity! Sure, she was enjoying every second of this and Rita had delivered in every way she had hoped when she mentioned this in Eupheria's weird interview show (really, this knot work was excellent, and she probably shouldn't tell either Kyouko or Rita that these were the most comfortable bonds she had been in since she had arrived in Hyperborea. It would set off some kind of cat fox war that would doom them all). Instead, Kazelia settled back into her chair and decided to enjoy herself, though she did keep trying to finish her extremely good speech through the gag, she was sure that after all the practice from Eupheria, they'd be able to make out some of the "mmrrphs and mmmmphs" as the intended exhortation to her sisters to unite behind family and reconsider all of their life choices one more time.

Adila!

“Whatever Adila wants to do,” the Captain says, with a shrug. “I came with her this far, after all. And before you get to grousing over whether it’s really her... the Queen took the last spell she ever did and wrung her out of it. So it’s her. And this time...”

The Captain looks off into the distance, an island of pensiveness in the midst of the last hurrah of the Watch. “It’s funny. This time, I’m the one looking after her.”

You are suddenly struck with the near certainty that if you leaned across the table and pulled back her eyepatch, you’d see falling stars and night.

But what kind of weirdo would do that!!!

***

Alina!

The embarrassment knocked you off your groove. That’s why, when Shazari doesn’t go straight up but at a diagonal, driving her shoulder into your tummy, you don’t see it coming. She lifts you like a bull, and now you’ve got a faceful of Shazari’s cloak and her arm clamped around your knees and that shoulder making out with your breakfast.

“Excellent! Now that we are even, we can discuss the location of my mother’s royal jewels with a clear conscience!”

She wouldn’t possibly keep you here, right? She understands how dangerous Oberon is! So, um, really, all you need to do (assuming you can’t figure out a smart way to escape) is to hold out until she has to let you go! You can handle the decadent tortures of the Jedadi court! No matter how you are tickled, you just need to refuse to give in!

But also it would be much better for you if you figured out a way to escape. Especially if it’s before she spirits you away.

***

Kazelia!

“You’re really good at speeches,” Rita says, putting the kettle on. Being gagged is thirsty work, and she is an excellent captor. Her room is a cozy single-bed number on the third floor (and you are very impressed with how she managed to carry both you and the chair up the stairs). She’s got an Askaian sun mat laid out near the window, a scratching toy sitting on the bedside table, and a hairbrush sitting in plain sight on the bed.

“If I weren’t an innocent and law-abiding princess,” she says, her tail twitching happily, “I could only hope to have a big sister like you, you know? Someone who cared about me. Who didn’t give up on me, no matter what.” She looks at you over her shoulder and smiles, before hopping up and sitting on the counter. “But I am the most innocent princess in all of Hyperborea! I am just a simple kitten without a devious bone in my body!”

She dramatically presses her hands to her chest, giving her hypothetical audience a show-stopper of a lip quiver, and then breaks into a devious little giggle and boops your nose with her big toe.

“I’m sure if you disagreed,” she adds, smiling like the cat that got into the cream, “you’d say something, wouldn’t you~?” That’s so very Hyperborean of her! Next thing you expect her to say is—

She hops off the counter and cradles your face in her hands. “Awww. Cat got your tongue?” Aaaaand there it is.

Princess Adila is in hiding.

She's walking through the streets of the Bazaar, cloak thick and heavy around her shoulders, darting from shadow to shadow. She's doesn't think that she's been followed but she can't be entirely sure. She could be struck down at any moment and only absolute vigilance would keep her safe.

After all, she'd just asked the Captain how old she was. And not in a polite way either. And then she'd tried to explain that wasn't what she meant, she was just curious about her eye and - and that was about the moment to call it a night by way of escaping out of the nearest window before the Captain's expression came down from polite surprise.

Not her most graceful exit, but not her least graceful one either. She sighed, but smiled a little as she looked up at the moon. Still a hatchling at heart, even now.

And she's home.

She runs a claw along the side of a building, traces her footsteps in an almost-dancing pattern across the cobbles, letting the feeling of the stones run up through her feet. She's had a lot of time to come to grips with the idea that this place didn't need her any more. The day when her time here would be over entirely. But she'd thought it'd just be her cast out alone - and instead it was the entire Watch. Disbanded. Undone. Everyone she knew was in this strange, dead-end spot alongside her. It wasn't that she'd left home, it's that home had stopped existing. The Watch was gone. The Bazaar was changed almost beyond recognition, piled up and down and backwards like a branch of Devilhome.

She genuinely had no idea how to feel about any of it.

She'd thought it would be sadness. She'd built all of her expectations for years around the idea of this being a sad moment. But when it had happened it had been nothing like she'd expected. She'd expected the mood of a funeral to her goodbye but it hadn't been that at all...

Her home was here, her family was here... but everything was upside-down, literal and metaphorical. Her emotions were frozen in the moment of change and she didn't know if she should laugh or cry or explode. They'd done it! They'd finished the mission! Couldn't they have just... stalled a little longer instead? Then at least she wouldn't have to figure out to do with this incomprehensible victory.

The silence was broken by a tiny little puff of laughter. She understood Adila I a little better now.

Ahead, a broken clock chimed.

Kazelia giggles through her gag when Rita boops her. It tickles, this is a completely reasonable and unavoidable reaction! This whole surround is delightful, and while she gives an appropriate "mmmrrrph" when Rita describes herself as the most innocent princess in all Hyperborea, it's impossible to tell if that's grunting agreement or grunting strenuous disagreement. She does, though, manage to wiggle just enough of a finger that when Rita goes for the obvious cat pun, a loose button flies up and boops her on the chin. Kazelia is perfectly aware she'll pay for that (probably with kitty mittens) but it was worth it for the moment of surprised shock that crossed Rita's face just as she was doing her most triumphant punning. She did hope that Rita would brush her hair while she was fully restrained though. It had been so long since she had the chance to relax and that brush looked absolutely lovely with its silver handle and firm bristles. That would be heavenly.

"Wait. Wait wait wait hey stop what are yoooooooOOOOUUUf!"

Ok! First of all! This is! Not a! Kidnapping! Alina is not! Being captured! Right now! Ok? She's just! Eeep! Just! EeeeeeeEEEep!! That doesn't! Eeeep! Go there! Hey stop! Don't tou-huhuhahahahaha!

Alina's squeaks are indignant and shrill. Her flailing is useless, but beautiful. Her shawl is floppy. No wait, it's on the floor. Her hair is bouncier than anything. Her butt is too high in the air, and her wind is not where it needs to be to do crucial tasks like breathing, thinking, or speaking with royal elegance.

"You jerk, I trust-eeep-ed you! We were -oof!- having aaAAaaa moment! I was just about to-- guh! Just abouuooorg! Rivers, why are you so tall! It's not fair! That's illegal! Height crimes! I'm reporting you!"

This is not a kidnapping or an arrest or whatever it is you think this looks like, ok? It's not! This is just a... minor setback! A surprise! No no, wait, go back! It's a... a... uh... a feint! Yeah, that's got it, a ruse! Step one in Alina's brilliant 11 point fool proof escape plan.

She has to... you know, act helpless and captured and squeaky and YEEEEP! Er, flustered, yes, so Shazari will lower her guard! That's why she hasn't used her lights to zip herself to some window or fill Shazari's pants with ferrets or flip her onto her back with dragon strength or, or um...

No no no no, no wait! Go back, go back, go back! This is the real actual truth this time, ok? This is a... a uh... um... a charity case! Yeah! Alina's just feeling sorry for Shazari, so she's letting her have this win, ok? That's something a Cascade would do, right? Intentionally play the final hand as wrongly as possible so her rival can go out feeling like she's on top. As an apology for all the difficulties she's had to endure recently. As a thank you for the Fire-Sharks, even though Shazari had nothing to do with that, just a thank you to, you know, Jedad in general for making Fire-Sharks exist when Illumina needed them the most. So now their crown princess gets a moment of glory and Jedad gets a new story and a song about the wily Princess Alina was finally brought to justice. Let it never be said that anybody steals the crown jewels of Jedad nine times and gets away with it!

...It's definitely, definitely NOT that this has been one of Alina's secret fantasies since she was thirteen and started really noticing how pretty other girls could be. Don't be ridiculous. Just because she's so tall firm and moves like dancing serpents and her hair smells like warm spices doesn't mean anything! It's completely coincidental that she's the one princess in Hyperborea who understands all the complexities of Alina-the-master-thief and takes her seriously enough to try and compete with her in every arena. You're thinking too hard about this. Stop it.

I mean, look. If that were the case, would she really be crying out like a damsel in distress so much? That's what I thought.

Adila!

The Bazaar might feel all topsy-turvy, but... well, that's just because of how jumbled up you are inside. And the fact that a lot of stalls and shops are closed; people are at home with their families and loved ones tonight, unpacking the strange rooms of the Labyrinth they found themselves trapped in, and what happened to them there. Eupheria and Alina, with their last wish, managed to put almost everything back the way it was before Eupheria made the Labyrinth. That's the awful power of the Caduceus: it could return the Bazaar to the way it was while still allowing the Labyrinth to exist below.

It'll be the biggest new business in town, give it a week. There'll be shops selling spelunking equipment, Caddy-shaped dousing rods, books chronicling the history of Wicked Queen Eupheria, guides who claim to have witnessed the final battle personally, and businesses doing their best to figure out what sells in the new Nightmare Army market. But it'll almost be business as usual.

Almost.

Because the Clocktower is still a tree, grand and terrible, its roots buckling streets and its branches looming over the entire Bazaar. In its slate-grey bark, where one might expect knotholes, there are clocks; there are watches budding by the leaves, their shining faces peeking out; there are shudders that run through it, almost imperceptible, to no immediately apparent rhyme or reason.

Discovering rhyme and reason is the specialty of the Igniters, and so they are assembled in the square where your feet lead you, breaking out sextons and rulers and mathematical formulae and illustrations of the old Clocktower. They are the gnostics, seekers of secrets, and by the time the sun is up they will have published half a dozen competing treatises in code, each one more obtuse than the last, intended to bring only the truly worthy to understanding.

You yourself, Adila, are a Palatine; one who follows, not one who seeks. Did the prophecies of the shoemaker even hint at something like this coming to pass? Or is this a new era, one which requires new revelation?

***

Kazelia!

The drag of the brush through your hair sends pleasant shivers down your spine. Rita is perched on her bedside table, seeing as you're stuck in your chair, and she's got her legs wrapped around you in very feline fashion while she runs both brush and occasionally gentle claw along your scalp. She's even got a bottle of Jedadi perfume lying on the bed to rub into your scalp after she gets your hair nice and neat and glossy.

"I owe you a lot, you know," she says, almost to herself. The morning sun lies lazily on your lap, filtered through faux-Iluminan glass. "For choosing Hyperborea. For being my friend when my home was in danger. For looking after my girlfriend. For figuring out how to get her out of her prison in the Labyrinth. The least I can do is help you feel at home. And that means, right now, you are not allowed to worry about anything. No quests! You have been beaten by a princess of Askaia, and now you have to do whatever I say until your sisters ransom you, and I say that you are getting brushies, and then some more tea, and then... well, I haven't decided. Maybe I'll tickle you until you can tell me to stop~"

The tea, incidentally, is sitting also on the bed in a shallow Askaian drinking bowl. It's perfect for cats, and for making non-cat princesses trying to drink out of them feel silly for having to lap it up with their tongues.

So, a few questions: how does it feel to get pampered and your hair done by an affectionate catgirl? When's the last time you got your hair brushed like this, if ever? What sort of tea did Rita make for your kidnapdate? And how comfy is that Rider scarf over your lips, anyhow?

***

Alina!

The soldier who enters the prisoner closet is big. Very big. Bronze bracers shaped like serpents slither around her impressive biceps, and her tunic stops halfway down her thighs, the perfect size to squish a princess. Ten to one says that she's one of Shazari's interrogators. She's too stuck-up and fancy to question captured princesses herself half the time, and instead relies on specially-trained soldiers like this one to work the truth out of her prisoners.

You would be feeling small and meek in comparison to this soldier if you hadn't been forced into a Jedadi prison uniform: a small bronze bikini and gauzy loincloth, to make sure the prisoner isn't hiding anything up their sleeve. Or, apparently, in their belly button. Your wrists are cuffed above your head, you're sitting on the carpeted floor, and as a final indignity, a flimsy pink veil flutters over the thick, embroidered sash knotted and pulled between your lips.

"Well," the soldier purrs in a hauntingly familiar voice. "Look what we have here." She kneels, her eyes drinking you in, and reaches out to lift your chin, making you look up at her. "If it isn't Alina Cascade..."

I believe the society of Clockmasters suffers from a chronic flaw of thought: a belief that the universe is set in its place.

Her first thought is of terror.

This landscape is alien. The interflow of plant and clockwork is like nothing she's ever seen. The safe, stable, blessed heart of her world has fallen into a strange anarchy and is drawing chaos up from the roots. The Princess Clock, the Thieftaker Chime, the Rainbow-Measure, all gone, the decades of patient study that underpinned each one annihilated.

Each new occurrence they ask, 'which clock chimed at its coming?' as though the clocks were the axis mundi around which all the world revolved.

And it's worse than the incomprehensible loss of knowledge - time itself is broken here. She can see the jagged edges with her blessed eyes, so clear and sharp she could cut her lashes by looking at them. The past and the future flow together sickeningly in places, breakdowns of causality that feel like the politeness of devils giving way to twisted love.

I dislike this reasoning, the pre-emptive deification of the clocks. We have not yet cracked their secrets and already we proceed from the assumption they are all wise and all knowing?

Don't these people understand the terrible danger here? That their home is broken, that the object of their study is shattered, that the Clocktower is undone? That their common cause is absent and it's time for them to disband just the same as the Watch has? That it's time for all those lovely rituals and structures and titles to just go away to wherever it is everything she loves is to go away to?

Is it not possible that the clocks can be tampered with? That they have makers, and those makers may in term have agendas of their own? It seems far more likely that the clocks are just as flawed and mortal as the rest of us than to assume that they exist aloof and infallible.

It turned out the Watch had their secrets from the beginning! The Cobbler had been right all along, the study of the Clocks had been subverted by the love of Princesses from the beginning, and they told nothing more than another story of heartache and heartbreak - beautiful, surely, but as surely not the topic for academic study. Not the sort of thing to be researched and discussed and teased out of the marvels of math and measurement and refined in razor debates. Love simply was, that the reminder to look to love was the simple truth of the matter, and didn't that mean there were no more questions left to answer?

No more study left to do?

No more debates left to listen to?

No more...

No more... time for any of this?

I say this not to attack the essence of the great study, for the research of the clocks has already produced miracles confirmed a thousand times over. I say this because there may come a time when the clocks are broken, or their secrets revealed as base, or are somehow stolen by the genius of some princess. And then what? Shall we pre-emptively commit ourselves to slavishly follow in the service of broken clockwork? Or shall we see these as the new questions they are?

The Cobbler Clockmaster finished her recitation. A sermon Adila had heard a dozen times. That she knew the words and rhythm to and had listened to without thinking. It was the 18th Letter To A Colleague, one of the Cobbler's more unique insights.

A clockwork gear turned in her head.

The Watch had known. The Captain had known. When they had encouraged the Watch to attend to the Palatine Cobbler... had this been the message they'd left for them?

Alina squirms. When she does, the chains above her rattle sonorously. Her bikini top shakes and clatters like a too-big traitor, as well. Her hair bounces and tumbles like a purple waterfall over tiny, cream colored rocks with every little shift and wiggle. Those are about the only things moving in the room.

The worst part about this,really, was that the prison bikini was about a half a size too big. And when it comes to metal swimwear it's more important than usual to get a good fit, because it tends to be pretty... inflexible, just like this is. Alina squirms again, even though she really probably shouldn't. She shifts and wiggles, and her bronze top isn't, rrrrrgh, "filled out" enough to keep it still. It shifts against her petite chest, which, eep! Pinches places! Places that ought not be pinched! And worse than that it keeps slipping in ways that threaten to expose far too much Cascade to the room.

And it's not really about the embarrassment of the exposure, really, so much as it's... they don't have this in her size? In her size?? Does Shazari mean to tell her that she's so unprepared for this moment that she doesn't even have a uniform prepared for the one prisoner she's dreamed of having for at least the last six years? What, does she not know Alina's measurements or something? Or is it just that she's -- Eeeeeeeep!!!

Ohhhhhhhhh rivers, that's a big guard. Oh gosh, oh lights, oh... mmmmmff! that is one big, firm, u-um... d-don't get distracted, Alina! Think about escaping! Think about escaping to Rita, not what this living statue is about to do! Alina tries desperately to flatten herself up against the wall, but her chains are too short and all she manages to do is wiggle suggestively. She blushes, squeezes her eyes shut, and shakes her head no no no no, please no, don't come any closer, please...!

"Rrrhhhmmmm?"

Her heart almost leaps out of her chest at the thought. Then the blush starts creeping across every inch of her body, where no veil can hide it. Her toes curl and her legs draw submissively in on themselves as best they're able. She's never tried to look so small and helpless and beneath notice in her entire life! She's never felt so small and helpless in her entire life. It jolts up her spine like lightning mixed with feathers, and fills her brain with images she'll never shake for as long as she lives. For some reason, the number 3 floats across the top of all these fears and fantasies. She shivers. She tries her best not to... oh, who is she kidding? She lets out the kind of moan that would make a web viper blush. And the kind of followup squeak that would make a certain flame haired mercenary practically split her face in half with a smirk.

Rivers. Why couldn't they ever meet when things weren't like this?

This feels wonderful. It's the nicest Kazelia has felt in...in...can we count years in the great void that's outside of worlds? Was it a thousand years ago when she left her mother's? She did keep telling Ourania that the age competition would be close, but then again how do yo count it? Let's say simply that when she was small in a far away lodge a long time ago, her mother would brush her hair in the evening. She didn't cut it when she was small, she just let it grow out, long, thick and dark back then, full of luster and shine as it pooled around her waist when she knelt at her mother's feet. She'd normally wear it up during the game in a big ponytail or all curled up. But at night she would let it out and her mother would sit and brush through it. Calmly, gently, and evenly, sitting on the bed above her. It was the most wonderful thing in all the world and Kazelia hasn't felt that since she left with her Father. He would never do such a thing, his hands weren't suited for tenderness. And while Asteria or Ninian might offer on occasion, they were rough with the snarls and too quick to be done.

Rita is an expert though. She brushes out Kazelia's white hair and you'd think the Rider were melting into her chair so fully does she relax into the brush strokes. Kazelia hums in a low murmur that might leave it up to doubt which of the two of them is the one purring. Perhaps both.

And then when that's done, the tea is some kind of Askaian chai. hints of cardamom mixed with milk and sweet brown sugar. Kazelia laps it up even though she blushes as she does it because it's so delicious.

Even the scarf feels just right. Azora would have silk of course, and so it's thin and gauzy over her lips when Rita isn't letting her drink, and after she was punished for her little magical show of resistance, she's careful to just drink and not talk while Rita works so it won't be interrupted.

Yes, this could go on forever. That would be fine. Just fine.

Adila!

One of the clocks begins to chime. One, two, three, sharp silvery tones. For a moment, it's the only sound in the whole world. Everyone stops breathing, the dust stops settling, even the night wind stills. Then the hymn begins. Not an Igniter hymn; this is the sound of Palatine piety, rising from nearby roofs, from windows, as one of the new clocks (peeking out from under a budding branch) sings its song. Four, five, six.

The song rises from throats like tongues of fire. Do you join them, Adila? Seven, eight, nine. Each of the old clocks is gone. This new tree of time... it is the ship, each part changed, but still the same. It is the turning point of time. And despite this, despite the overturning of prophecy, the wiping clean of the slate... has the great work changed at all?

That's for you to decide, as it is for everyone in the Bazaar.

***

Alina!

"As I seem to remember," Rhyza says, squatting down to look you in the face, her grin only visible in the delighted squint of her eyes, "you needed me to help look after Jedad. But now that Shazari's back, well, does that mean that your orders are over, or do you need me to follow her orders now more than ever?" She tilts your head up with one (1) finger. She could tie you up right now with a bit of brittle cobweb and you'd still be helpless, wouldn't you? "Maybe what you really need is for me to keep your cover to avoid foiling your brilliant plan, which requires you to pretend to be Shazari's prisoner and soon to be... well, I don't want to spoil the surprise. Let's just say she has plans for you, too."

The finger lowers, and traces its way down your collarbone to the divot in your top, where she puts the gentlest pressure on it. Enough to remind you that she could pull it down. "I know I'm just a simple mercenary," she purrs. "Please explain what you want me to do, your highness~"

She's probably going to free you-- and insist you tie her up so that it looks like you escaped on your own-- but right now? Right now she's luxuriating in the fluorescent blush coming off your face, and the flustered, incoherent noises escaping around the knot.

***

Kazelia!

"I left my kitten lying here,
a-lying here, a-lying here,
I left my kitten lying here
to fetch the wild weed..."

Rita's voice is soft and quavering, a reminder of how small and dainty a princess she is (and isn't Alina lucky for dating one of the few princesses smaller than her?), but it's still soothing. If you close your eyes, you could almost imagine that you're in one of those cozy little Askaian homes, all the way back at the beginning, and there's Askaian chai on the windowsill and the sun is warm and the incense brings strange fancies, and the day's all yours to lose.

"I've found the little otter's track,
the otter's track, the otter's track,
I've found the little otter's track,
but where's my little kitten, o?"

You don't need to worry about anything right now. Rita's in charge, and she'll treat you with all the love and care that a Hyperborean princess deserves. Somewhere deep inside you, your Mother stirs and radiates contentment; here, here is the Truth, wrapped up in the cat princess's lilting lullaby. You don't feel cold at all, and falling stars tickle their way down your back with every brush.

"I found the trail of the mountain mist,
the mountain mist, the mountain mist,
I found the trail of the mountain mist,
but where's my little kitten, o?"

When you drift off to sleep in the puddle of sunshine, what dreams wait for you in your Mother's arms?

"Here's my little kitten found,
my kitten found, my kitten found,
here's my little kitten found,
safe and warm at home~"

"Mmmffrrble, mrrmMMmmfhthrrrph mmmrrrgh!"

It's useless for Alina to try right now. The knot gag shoved between her dainty lips has her tongue trapped underneath a lump of perfumed silk that doesn't let her mouth even close, let alone form the kind of complex shapes that would let her make words. Her speech is so garbled that even she doesn't know what it was she'd been trying to say. All she can do is make her silly noises and hope they sound more worthy of rescue than more teasooooohhhhhhhh, that's a finger on her neck. Good finger, good finger, mmmmmm, there you go, slide lower, slide lower, slide-- eep!

Oh no, how long has she been drooling?!

Alina's eyes are begging eyes, deep green pools covered over with a glossy haze that seems to want so many different things of her savior just now. Eyes that sparkle and cry, 'yes yes, I am deep in the middle of a plan and I need my Queen to allow me to slip further into Shazari's clutches! Let me see what she wants done with me, let me swim in this moment and lock it in my dreams forever!' Eyes that glisten and beg, 'no no, you idiot, get me out of here! I have an important job to do, and an important kitten to get back to, just set me free and I'll pay you any price you can name!' Eyes that flutter shut and only know the word, 'please, please, please, please, oh!!'

She's straining at her chains, now. She's leaning forward as hard as she can and not caring how much she's drooling on her chest or what her voice sounds like, because she has no words and has to beg. And maybe it's Euphie's fault, or maybe there's always been a little more Mittens in this princess than she'd really prefer to admit, but today begging means lunging forward to press her weight against Rhyza as she buries her silly veil-covered face into that serpentine neck and rubs her cheek against it as she hopes against hope that her message gets across.

But, honestly? She knows she doesn't need it to. Rhyza won't betray her. She might smile like a desert fox and start talking about 'ransoming off a pair of princesses tonight' or whatever flirting strikes her fancy, but she'll never put Alina in a situation that would cause her any harm. This is more... hello. I'm so glad to see you. I'm so glad you're safe. I'm so glad we still get to be friends.

...Ok fine, this might also be begging. Are you happy yet, Rhyza? Please, help her out here? P-p... please? Y-you're not g-gona leave her like this... are you?

Oh, rivers.

Adila!

One of the clocks begins to chime. One, two, three, sharp silvery tones. For a moment, it's the only sound in the whole world. Everyone stops breathing, the dust stops settling, even the night wind stills. Then the hymn begins. Not an Igniter hymn; this is the sound of Palatine piety, rising from nearby roofs, from windows, as one of the new clocks (peeking out from under a budding branch) sings its song. Four, five, six.

The song rises from throats like tongues of fire. Do you join them, Adila? Seven, eight, nine. Each of the old clocks is gone. This new tree of time... it is the ship, each part changed, but still the same. It is the turning point of time. And despite this, despite the overturning of prophecy, the wiping clean of the slate... has the great work changed at all?

That's for you to decide, as it is for everyone in the Bazaar.

Time is broken here. That's what this is. That's what this has to be. How else could she see the past and the future both so clearly from where she stands?

She can't find it in her to sing, can't remember the words in time. She's captivated like she's standing at the intersection of two waterfalls. And in that moment she - to her shame - experiences the kind of sudden, shocking enlightenment about the nature of time that the Igniters claim as the core of their beliefs.

Perspectives aren't linear. Minds aren't linear. Thoughts aren't linear. The future can reach back to the past's wisdom to make sense of its new insanity. The past can be bound to visions of the future, dragging it with the strength of destiny. She has days when she feels ancient and wise, and she has days when she feels as new and fearful as a hatchling. She has days when she wants to take refuge in the past and days when she can't wait for the future.

And with that insight, her magic ignites within her. Now she's an adolescent - powerful and fast, but in the same kind of size and scale that humans are powerful and fast. Now she's a hatchling, stealthy and playful and the right size to catch cats who have committed cat-crimes. Now as she is now, mighty and vigilant, ready to defend her friends against any sort of darkness. She'd loved each time in her life, and she'd felt incomplete in each part - torn between future and past, the friendships and deeds she'd thought she'd had to leave behind and those she couldn't do yet. But now she recreated herself in tripartite and by acknowledging her own different selves her mind finally felt whole.

The Time Dragon blurred between shapes, one to the next, and then in three voices raised her voice to join in with the final chorus of the song.

[Advance: Unusual Upbringing, to provide Lived in a Shoe from the Halfling. Adila can change her size at will]

Kazelia's dreams are distant dreams. Dreams from the outside, of the world seen through the haze that's there when you don't have a body. Ourania blazes like a beacon, though one that flickers with Oberon's cold once in a while. That weakness will remain for some time, until time and care from the princesses restore the roots of Argossa and undo the damage that the Riders caused. The new bazaar and labazaar can be seen from the outside in a weird sort of spherical overlay that isn't in the shape of a sphere at all. There is a gap where Devilhome once was beneath it all, unfilled but not empty. Oberon stomps near Argossa and there is a darkness there, Diana just barely visible as a tiny pinprick of light beneath him.

Some shapes come in more clearly. It's almost like her Mother trying to take her first hesitant steps. Trying to feel things out from within Hyperborea instead of outside it. Rita is less hazy, the brush distinct in her hands because the joy in her heart is true and strong. Alina, somewhere, is less hazy because Mother has seen her truth and because she's living her truth right this moment. Adila, despite her sudden lack of consistent corporeality, is somehow more clear than she's ever been and her light shines brightly.

It's a dream like floating, buoyed on water that isn't there, swimming through a hazy world lazily with no need to ever really come up for air, but a new wonder to see around every corner. Some will need more cataloging in the future. Mother does love to catalogue and Kazelia's spirit is content to drift along with her as she tries to arrange her thoughts to connect a thousand little points of light to the singing voices she's heard in Kazelia's heart.

Alina!

One strong and gentle hand runs down the back of your head. She’s so careful with you. That’s why you trust your Queen.

“I might just happen to have a beggar’s key here,” Rhyza says, and a small copper pin tumbles out of her sleeve: a lockpick, a scoundrel’s friend. “So what you will do, little princess,” she purrs, like a tiger sitting neatly before you, idly flexing her claws, “is make anyone passing by believe that I am doing my job of getting you ready for interrogation. Forget the guards at the flap: I need the cooks on the other end of camp to hear you holler as I punish you with feather and whip.”

She reaches up and starts working on the fiendishly clever locks, leaning forward so that her tunic parts ever so slightly at eye level to help inspire you. She’s asking you to toss all of your dignity out the window, so that she isn’t caught and chained up next to you. How much is your dignity worth, Alina?

***

Adila!

Ten, eleven, twelve.

Thirteen.

That is the lesson of the Dragon’s Clock, its method and its means. It was made for you by devils, perhaps not you in the specific, but for the dragon who would be standing here right now. Time and dragons and old stories, clocks and time woven from the hungry void at the beginning of everything, with this moment and this place as its anchoring point.

What came next? What did you do in the moments just beyond this one, this slivering, this fire-on-the-heart?

***

Kazelia!

The smoke bomb wakes you up, but you were ready when you saw that bright, startlingly vivid light suddenly upon you. Your heart knew what was happening before your head caught up.

There’s a fight going on in the room now, only perceptible through eddies of smoke and the startled squeaks from Rita as she tries to defend her territory and her captive from your invading ninja girlfriend. Kyouko is fast, well-armed, and has the element of surprise on her side— but if Rita manages to find her footing after the initial assault, she’s got a decent chance of turning the tables—

And there’s you, too. Traditionally, you’re “out” when you’re captured, not allowed to get involved in fights until you’re rescued, but have you learned that yet? And if you have, are you willing to use your magic to help one of the fighters in the smoke-choked hotel room?

Whether this coin lands (fuzzy) heads or (kitten) tails, whether it’s nudged one way or the other by your interference and magic, it’ll be settled by the time the smoke clears, and someone’s ending up back to back with you.

The noises that escape from Alina will follow the guards and cooks and cleaning staff all the way into their dreams tonight. Rhyza must be no less than the greatest interrogator Shazari has ever used to be able to draw these kinds of useless, messy moans out of a princess like this. They drift through the hall like birdsong. And just like birdsong they fill up the hearts of everyone listening until they have to wonder how much longer they can stand it.

Toes scuff on the hallways as feet twist awkwardly back and forth. Thighs rub together while fingers tug on collars and adjust veils, suddenly afraid that they might have come loose. Hands, like thoughts, wander where they might. Is that breathless squeal and sigh coming from her, or from them? D-did you hear that? Oh, er, um... ahem. Ca... carry on.

Alina is blushing brighter than the sun right now. Her tongue is trying to loll its way out of her mouth and her brain is trying its best to stay out of the way. Her eyes are locked on the priceless treasures hidden underneath that happily fluttering tunic. When she slips forward and starts to shove her face in there, is it because the chains have started to come loose and she got taken by surprise? Or is the Princess of Illumina as naughty as her special queen is telling her she is right now? Is she a good actor, or a good girl?

Her voice is dripping with desperation. The helpless lilt of the broken spirit that's no longer sure if it's begging for things to stop or for them to keep going. Lower, faster, more, no, please, yes yes! Stop! Give... let me... let! Yes! Yes! No, yes yes!! Please!

The coin-kissers will make a small fortune tonight. Nobody could listen to this and not think... things. Tonight is for kissing. Tonight is for being held. Tonight is for cool winds drifting over thin sheets, fingers entwining over fingers, for mouths to taste every forbidden flavor until they need to be wiped clean and covered up again with the peeking of the curious sun through the windows. Tonight is for singing and for sighing, for laughing and for teasing, for gentle pats on stomachs and nibbling on ear lobes when they lean in to whisper nonsense. Tonight is for these things. Alina made it so.

But now, unseen by a dozen different fantasies or patrols, she's blushing and breathless and trying as hard as she's ever tried before to both look Rhyza in the eye and avoid doing exactly that. She rubs her wrists, and smiles coyly.

"Come with me," she whispers, "You're worth a dozen of these jewels. Come with me. Escape with me. At least as far as dinner tonight. Let me... r-reward you. My hero~"

And then she has to hide her face in her hands, because it's too much to look right into the fire of those eyes and ask their owner if she likes the sound of sharing her night with two princesses at once.

This is so exciting! A fox ninja princess and a fierce cat princess fighting over Kazelia! She very nearly swooned from the thought! She knew enough from her time in Hyperborea thus far (and Kyouko's lecture on kidnapping earlier) that she probably shouldn't interfere. She was the kidnapee, she was supposed to just relax. But she couldn't help herself just a little. Rita had been so good to her and the poor girl had done so much to clean things up Feloria with barely any reward. She deserved a little victory. Plus, despite the Labazaar, Kazelia apparently hadn't gotten enough of being tied up to together with Kyouko. She smirks at the thought.

Now the key was to get the timing just right, so nobody could really be sure she was putting her magical finger on the scale here. She had to follow the fight. Kyouko leapt out of the smoke bomb, long robes obscuring the tools she's holding in her hands. She flings a row of kunai at Rita that push her backwards from the chair. They land in a line, shik shik shik, just to the side of Kazelia's chair. Rita's already airborne away from them, landing on the dresser and using her momentum to throw herself off it at a diagonal before Kyouko can draw a bead on her. Rita flings a puff of incense ash into the air, mixing with the smoke and further obscuring vision Kyouko's way, causing her to throw a long-sleeved arm up in the air to shelter her sensitive little fox nose. Rita pounces, claws out, a thin rope pulled from who knows where in her off hand.

And...there! Right there! Kyouko's arm is up, a little bit of magic pulls at the carpet, bunches it up more than it was, just enough. Enough that when Kyouko goes for her footing to respond it's not completely stable, it shifts a bit. Something anyone could ascribe to a bit of missed footwork while half-blinded. Just enough to let Rita close the distance without a response, to be too fast and knock whatever tool Kyouko was drawing out of her hand before it leaves her sleeve. That's all that's needed for the outcome of this coin toss.