Now Mibbet had a problem, she had a human to protect who was clearly all human, and wanted by the authorities, and a person who may or may not be human anymore up against her, she did not favour the “kill em all and let the gods sort em out” approach either. Partially because killing people made other people mad, and that made things messy, (not to mention the category known as living had broadened a lot for her from the simple days of human, frog, food and will eat me from back on her days on the pond, and partially because she had enough experience with gods these days to not trust them to sort out the potato salad for a picnic, let alone humans, who in all fairness probably saw humanity as about as relevant to their concerns as the ants at aforementioned picnic, and tended to approach them in a manner reminiscent of that one kid with a magnifying glass.
“I like my orientation where it is thank you very much” Mibbet said while drawing choppy, “plain simple, and unconfusing. albeit annoying. Now I would very much appreciate it is you would back off a bit, as I am a royal, and a guest and it would look really bad to maul somebody during a state visit.
The creature did not thus far seem inclined to back off, “the noncompliant must be made compliant, they must be corrected before their defective thinking before it spreads further.”
“Oh is that all? Then by all means proceed with the brainwashing.”
“Really?” The thing asked looking equal parts relieved and happy, “that’s such a relief, registering a state visitor for mandatory compliance and co-operation training involves so much paperwork.”
“Of course not” Mibbet snapped, “I was kidding, you are not getting your hands on her, and I hereby declare her pardoned of all crimes by the authority vested in me, by, well.... me duly. Crown princess of this kingdom, duly elected by... nobody but officially recognised as secondary in authority to the king and queen, or as I call them dad, and that bloody battle maniac.” (In case it wasn’t obvious by now Rosalind helped a little with the phrasing here.)
“Oh dear, that will make things complicated,” the creature said. “May I see some identification please?”
Mibbet thought on this for a moment, and reached into her bag, fishing out her crown, and placing it on her head. “Will this be sufficient ID or will I need to provide further information” she asked. “Because if needs be I can get official paperwork from the king, pretty sure dad can sort that out in a hurry. Or I could simply do this the traditional way and throw a tantrum then call for your beheading. My guards handle the messy side of that, and they don’t ask questions. Now if you can kindly let us through I believe it’s time for a surprise royal inspection.
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“Th-that isn’t on the schedule,” it stammered weakly.
“I just added it, expect the paperwork, well never. I don’t need to provide any.”
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Back at the central office, the man in the grey suit received a telepathic report as to what had just happened. It pondered for a moment before opening a drawer, and writing a memo about the unscheduled royal visit, filing it under T, for termination. “This is so irregular” it sighed, “and I was so hoping we could cooperate. Oh well, no matter, it seems it is time to speed up the hostile takeover venture.”
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Mibbet was not particularly keen to stick around and see what would happen next, she liked her brain in one piece, and was beginning to suspect that as soon as they conferred, whatever had taken over this city may just disagree with her like. So as soon as they could they bundled the new girl into Trundles, and got as far away from there as possible. About two minutes later an inhuman screech that sounded like a cross between a fox, and a rabid baby behind them verified they had made the right choice.
“Turn right round here, onto fifth street,” the new girl shouted. “That district isn’t developed yet so they won’t follow there” The coachman (one of these days Mibbet vowed she would catch him in conversation long enough to find out what the hell to call him, but so far he’d spoken 5 words the entire trip, and three of those had been swearing, one at the last person who tried to converse with him, so the coachman he had remained in the absence of other options.) took one look back, and gave a grunting nod. (He must like her it was downright unnerving how chatty he was right now,) and turned down a dark street. Heading as far away from that place as possible, until they passed an old, and obviously disused bakery.
“Here, stop here,” she shouted suddenly.
“This is no time for a snack,” Mibbet replied,
“No but it is a pretty good time to hide your wagon” the new girl said with a grin, leaping down into the dusty alley and pulling out a key, using it to unlock the wagon bay.
Not keen to turn down a hidey hole they headed inside, while Sir Leeroy quickly did what he could to cover their trail. None of them particularly wanted to get caught at this juncture, (or at any juncture ideally.)
“Now Miss, I’d appreciate knowing what the hell is going on round here.” Mibbet snapped quietly (she reckoned snapping loudly would not be good for her unbrainwashed state.)
“Quiet for a bit, we need to make sure they’re clear first. This place has no existing paper trail, so as far as they’re concerned it doesn’t exist.”
Sure enough soon there was the sound of a search ongoing, which searched the bins, the street outside, stacks of old crates (like somehow they could hide a full sized wagon, and horses, and multiple humans.) Yet completely ignored the obvious vehicle bay. Once they were gone the stranger started to speak, with a sigh of relief. “My name is Eileen Boseways, and I’m with the resistance.”