The entourage watches as this princess moves out of this small sitting space, a literal ghost filtering through this place and back into the passenger section of this train carriage.

They watch as it follows her.

Her singular Impericutta Legionary Guard in its bone-white ceramic armor moves like a thousand plates armed with its sub-machine gun, the faceless demon animated like some child's doll from its position at the corner of the sitting space. Simply following its royal master, an assurance of her safety as with each step its armor plating subtly clinks.

They listen as it finally clears the car, leaving these five alone.

Zai and his four Guardsmen really take a few extra minutes to ensure that it had, in its lifelessness, truly left them to their own devices before they speak up.

She's the shortest of the bunch, but Guardsman Wei's own Sanji accent makes her sound at least twice her height. A question pointed towards her superior officer, arms crossed. "And you spent an entire summer vacation, a whole season, in Port Azuru with that demon, Mori? Does it actually talk?"

"Yeah, that thing does talk alright." Guardsman Mori Fushimi scoffs, her usual playful smile turning sour. "I'm ordering the lot of you: don't ever let your guard down around it. That thing chewed through a mayor's private guard contingent and an entire night shift of a small-town constabulary. Took at least eight rifle rounds to the chestplate without slowing down, and it moves faster than you'd expect. We're each carrying anti-tank gear from now on, just in case…"

"And I thought you two burned that down together?" Wei continues to question.

"We did, but that thing made sure nobody got out before we even started." Mori grimly tells them. "Not that any of us wouldn't do the same given the chance. But, that thing was anything but quiet."

The usually loud Guardsman Norbu, that cliff-face of a man, speaks with a small, whispered question. "Was it an abatteuse machine gun?"

"Yeah, it was that Imperial iron-choir alright." Mori keeps her eyes on the doorway. "That doll brought in at least three of those hundred round belts and six frag…"

"Please." The Crown Prince interrupts this talk of weapons and battle, speaking with an uncharacteristic coldness to his entourage of guardians as he keeps his gaze out the armored window. "You can have this discussion later. Could Mori and I have the room?"

They all stop.

The short body of Wei, the ever so vigilant silence of Ruoxian, and the pillar of Norbu all turn in sequence, and deeply bow towards their master in a hollowed silence. The small chimes of knives against belts, of handguns in holsters, and their gentle footsteps as they all exile themselves from this sitting room within the train carriage.

They leave just Zai and Mori alone, those two listening to the clattering of rails and the rumble of that monstrous engine three cars away.

And they sit in silence for a while, Mori staring at Zai Tianci while the Crown Prince himself simply contemplates that dark black mountain of divine arcanite slowly growing closer with distance.

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Guardsman Mori Fushimi begins first with an observation, keeping her arms folded behind her back and voice casual. "It's been a while since you were this… snappy, Sire."

He doesn't reply, tapping his finger on the steel table in front of him.

So the Guardsman just remains standing, taking the initiative on this as she asks the leading question directly at him. "Anything happen last night that you'd like to share?"

He stops that tick, taking a deep breath before being interrupted by her explanation. "I might be quiet, but Wei takes the crown for being invisible; always in places she shouldn't be. It was quite a surprise to us when you snuck out your room in the middle of the night into her's."

"We needed to talk." Zai tells her coldly.

"Mmmm… a little late night talk, was it~?" There's a teasing edge to her voice. "Will you be having many more of these 'late night discussions' in the future?"

The Guardsman can tell she's pushing too far with the half-joke, that cold dead expression on his face remaining through a deep, unsettled breath he takes into his lungs.

She settles on just a simple question. "Did she tell you the truth? Of why she's here as your 'treaty wife?'"

"Too many truths." Zai cryptically answers.

"Oh?"

"I… she had…" The Crown Prince tries to find the words, digs into his very soul for this. "There were developments."

Something in his mind speaks to him, eating him. Do not tell this southerner the truth. Do not reveal the truth of this Fourth Princes. Never tell your hand where you store your blade.

But she can tell, as she always has. "If I'd harbor a guess I'd imagine it would be something extraordinarily mundane." Mori chuckles to herself. "I've seen people who want your seat or your head—"

She pauses, smirks slightly.

"And I don't think she's the type to want your head… in that particular way, of course."

She's hitting too close to reality, so Zai tries to deflect in hypothetical. "What if she wanted to do nothing here? What if they sent her here to be a partner for me, and not an agent for the Imperium… or at least not yet?"

He turns his gaze to his guardsman, staring her right in the eyes for these next words. "Mori, what would it mean if this was their way of… disposing of their least useful heir?"

Because all actions have a purpose, all lies must have some obfuscated truth.

Guardsman Fushimi puts a finger over her chin in a comically exaggerated thinking pose. "Well I suppose they lost quite a useful accountant."

"Beyond that, Guardsman."

"I dunno." Mori plays her ignorance well. "I'd say it fits her profile… if we look beyond what the Dominion Intelligence assholes say in their reports. And after a summer vacation with the Silver Demon herself I'm less inclined to believe those idiots."

Zai doesn't nod, but agrees with her. "To believe that she is just a simple girl, of that truth, is to believe in the Imperium. That they aren't here for the arcanite, they aren't here for our lands and people… do you think we can believe that?"

"Not my problem Sire." Mori scoffs. "I ain't gonna rule the Dominion, that's your job."

"I can't believe them." The Crown Prince tells her. "That's not possible."

"You can believe her and not her country, you know?" The Guardsman informs the obvious. "I mean sure the treaty is pretty bad for us, and you can say that the Imperium of theirs is trying to eat us alive. But all that doesn't mean she's trying to play the game."

Despite her usual casual disposition, the Guardsman did have a point—Zai holding onto that last statement with a level of hope that shocks even him.

Because if she did not play the game: manipulate the courts, balance the states, keep the wheel of politics turning…

Then she would be nothing but meat ground beneath its unholy gears.

Something happens within this Crown Prince, some emotion that wells up through his composure into a shaky breath.

"Guardsman Fushimi." He uses her full title, a rank bestowed upon her by the Lord of the Dominion himself and a name given from the ancient southern states of Tianci. "I… I have a task for you."

"I am ever your servant, Sire."

Zai walks into this lethal mistake with wide eyes and open arms. "I'm assigning you to Sophia Elise the Eighth as her Guardsman."

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