As the carriage rumbled along its supposed path, I found myself running through the entire plan again one more time. It wasn't going to help much if it all comes crashing down, but it was still worth it to have some semblance of a framework in a scheme as complicated as Arya lined it out to be. With her and Anne still playing the messenger schtick, they'll go along deeper into the palace while Grigori will be stuck with the three of us as he's supposedly guided to a stable after bringing Arya to the palace's inner gates. At that point, we'll have about an hour before Arya supposedly finishes her task of getting to the council chambers. Still don't know what she meant by the council since she glossed over it so fast earlier, but I'll only assume that they knew how to fight enough that even the Lady Bloodmoon didn't want to risk a fight with them in her lonesome. This meant that we had to get there before s

Phillipe never considered herself to be a political person. While it was true that a Denominator can never be expected to know politics, he didn't really care beyond being able to keep himself and the people he gave a shit about alive.   So when Ruby started practically worshipping the ground their so-called Lady Crimson walked on, he took offense to it immediately.   Why would someone like Ruby even like someone that blatantly lied to them about being a Den? Sure, the redhead actually somehow managed to prove that she was still one of them despite being a Numerator at the same time, but there was still the principle of the matter. Well, maybe the lady did manage to get them out of the death trap that was their Furnace, and gave them actual meals instead of scraps, and maybe even promised a future where they can live in peace without persecution...

Right. Strategy. At a glance, the study was fairly small. Probably because the entire floor itself was smaller than the base of the palace. The stairs we came from were located at the side of the now destroyed wall. I guess we were actually close to the outside than we expected. On the room itself, it was like staring at a miniature version of the Royal Library. Bookshelves galore as far as the eye could see, but on a smaller scale; probably about the size of the main floor of my own mindscape where Ica and I shared tea and thinly-veiled verbal jabs. Add in the cluttered and haphazard arrangement of the books and the shelves that contain them, and I was left in an arena that was just ripe for stealth takedowns or a blazing inferno. In short, not a lot of elbow room in a room filled with highly flammable material. Kind of an advantage and a disadvantage when thinking about the

Arya had never had this much fun in her life. Sure, it was in circumstances that she never expected to be in after years of being in the service of the Empire, but the bluenette wouldn't give this up even if it cost her her own borrowed life. After all, how many people would even have the privilege of saying something along the lines of successfully infiltrating the most secure place on this side of the Empire? "Messenger. You have a missive for us?" As a trained infiltrator in lieu of her own experience as a Dividend, the former Prime kept her patented noble scowl firmly on her face. Descartes trailed closely behind her, the Vaion woman subtly shaking in her feet even as she portrayed the role of a cowed servant. It was only fortunate that the Vaion had actually been a maid in service to the Vaion Crown. Such a coincidence couldn't be more conveni