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Hereafter
Chapter XLVII: Doppelganger (Twisted Mirror)

Chapter XLVII: Doppelganger (Twisted Mirror)

Chapter XLVII: Doppelganger (Twisted Mirror)

The twins and Mash were understandably distressed when they saw what had become of Boudica. Much fretting was involved, and not a small amount of worry. The way they acted, you could have been forgiven for thinking she was going to disappear at any moment.

Fortunately, Servants weren't human. They weren't strictly alive, even, which meant that a crippling, life-threatening wound for a living human being was less a life-changing event for a Servant and more of a temporary inconvenience.

Yes, with enough time and magical energy, Servants could regrow limbs. No, I was not at all jealous, and the port connecting my prosthetic to my real flesh did not itch or throb the slightest bit.

Unfortunately, the amount of time and energy a Servant needed to invest in restoring a lost limb was not small by any stretch of the imagination. Days, if the Master was good enough, compatible enough, and had a large enough supply of magical energy. For Boudica, the timeline was looking more like two weeks — unless, I thought privately, we took her to Mount Etna and hooked her up to the ley line there.

Another bridge to cross when the time came.

Eventually, things calmed down and cooler heads started to prevail. None of us had any actual skill in the spiritual surgery that would make healing Boudica easier, but it didn't mean there wasn't anything we could do for her. We were practically on top of a ley line ourselves, untouched and untapped by any locals simply because there weren't any locals yet.

So I called up Sylvia, one of the few magi who had survived the sabotage and who was now working as a technician monitoring our situation, and together with a little help from Mash, we taught the twins how to set up a proper magic circle. Formalcraft, one of the most basic, foundational skills of magi.

If Sylvia noticed that I mostly let her do the talking, well, she didn't say anything about it. I decided to believe that she was well aware that I was still not much more than a novice myself, but didn't want to undermine my position as the twins' more experienced leader, so she chose not to call attention to my own lack of knowledge.

When we were done, there was a textbook magic circle, a little basic, but perfectly functional for our purposes, since all it had to do was concentrate the flow of magical energy. The Roman soldiers, in a show of solidarity and support, had cleared out a tent for Boudica to use so that she wouldn't be sitting out in the middle of the camp for everyone to gawk at.

Even Emiya decided to chip in, projecting a simple sleeping mat — a futon, he called it, and by the twins' lack of surprise, I had to chalk that peculiarity up to America appropriating another term to use for a completely different object — for Boudica to rest on. As he told it, the futon would be stabilized by the magic circle, too, so she didn't have to worry about it disappearing on her in the middle of the night.

With that done, however, there wasn't much else for us to do while we waited for Emperor Nero to finish the trip up here. Nothing, at least, that I felt it was safe to do in what could very quickly become a combat zone.

So, naturally, Aífe decided it would be the perfect time for us to learn some martial arts.

"Uncle!" Rika yelped, slapping her free hand against the dirt. "Uncle! Uncle!"

Aífe relaxed her grip on Rika's other arm and let her go, and Rika flopped to the ground, gasping for breath as her chest heaved. Ritsuka watched on from the sidelines, but unlike the first two days, he didn't go rushing to check on her. If there was one thing Aífe had definitively proven, it was that she was well aware of what our limits were and when and where they could be safely pushed.

I swiped a stray lock of hair out of my face, matted with sweat, and grimaced. I doubted Emiya could project a fully modern bathtub, but he should at least be able to make a large enough steel tub, I thought. We were going to have to see about carrying around soaps and shampoos in the future, because rinsing off in a stream definitely wasn't going to cut it after stuff like this.

"Uuunnn," Rika groaned into the dirt. "My everything hurts."

"Take a few minutes to recover, and then we'll go again," Aífe said. "This time, I expect you to try and put me into that hold."

Rika just groaned some more.

"Slave driver."

"If you think this is rough, you would never have survived my teachings back when I was alive," said Aífe, amused. "Unfortunately, I can't push you as far, as fast, or as hard as I would like to, so this is going to be slower and more painful than either of us prefers."

"Why not?" asked Ritsuka.

Rika levered herself up far enough to lance her brother with a panicked glare. "Onii-chan, no."

Aífe pursed her lips, and for a moment, looked like she was mulling over how to explain. "You're aware of the nature of Heroic Spirits, yes?"

"I mean, we…know a little," Ritsuka admitted a little sheepishly. "They're the spirits of heroes who were celebrated for doing great or terrible things, right?"

"Yes," said Aífe, "but we are not…moments of frozen time, so to speak. That is, a Heroic Spirit is not simply the hero at one moment of her life."

"A Heroic Spirit encompasses the entirety of their legend," Arash added in. "Think of the Heroic Spirit on the Throne as the whole book instead of one chapter. A complete existence, encompassing beginning and end and everything in between."

"A good analogy," Aífe agreed with a nod. "Then, when you summon a Servant, would you expect the Heroic Spirit to arrive as both the young girl she started as and the grown woman she eventually became?"

"That…isn't possible, is it?" Ritsuka asked.

"No," I answered, because it was obvious. "Something like that would be a paradox."

It would be like asking me whether I was Skitter, Weaver, or Khepri. All of them were Taylor Hebert, all of them evolutions of the same person, but I could no more be the young, naive Skitter and the jaded, weary Khepri at the same time than a chicken could be both egg and rooster simultaneously.

"Just so," said Aífe. "Even then, however, certain aspects of a Heroic Spirit might be emphasized based upon the class they were summoned in, or even the area or time period in which they're summoned." She gestured down at her own body. "Ordinarily, the Rider class is my most balanced. It allows me the greatest access to the full breadth of my power. However, because I was summoned to this time near the seat of my legend, what was emphasized in my summoning was my nature as a warrior queen."

"Ah." Arash made a noise of understanding in his throat.

"Is…that a bad thing?" asked Ritsuka uncertainly.

"For her ability as a combatant? No." Arash shook his head. "But it means that there are some things that got excluded that might normally not be. Let me guess: your tutelary aspects were downplayed."

Aífe gave a helpless shrug. "Unfortunately, yes. And that means that the skills and Noble Phantasms normally associated with it are inaccessible to me, so it simply isn't possible to speed this up any further than it already is."

"Maybe that's a good thing." Arash smirked. "After all, your teachings produced some of the finest warriors Ireland has ever seen. It would put us out of a job if you made the Masters able to fight all of the Singularities by themselves."

My brow twitched. Easy for him to say. He didn't have to feel helpless and weak whenever we ran into another Servant, wishing he had the strength and the speed to actually fight back. Even if the best she could make of me was a warrior half as strong as Cúchulainn, I would have jumped at the chance not to have to sit on the sidelines anymore.

And maybe, I realized to my chagrin, that was why it was actually a good thing. The wyvern back in Orléans was one thing, but if I actually had the physical ability to keep up with a Servant, I couldn't imagine I wouldn't try — and then get killed by whatever Noble Phantasm they pulled out to finish me off.

My Last Resort was useful and strong, but even still, something like King Arthur's Excalibur or Cúchulainn's Wicker Man or Tiberius' Florent Cruentus would be just as fatal to me, whether I had my knife or not. Even Medusa's Harpe was dangerous, because it had range and reach over my knife. One nick in the wrong place and I'd bleed out as the twins and Mash watched helplessly.

"I wouldn't say no to having the ability to defend myself if a Servant ever ambushed us," I said deliberately, "but even if she could do that for us, we still wouldn't have Noble Phantasms."

"A good point," Arash agreed.

"As though I couldn't fashion you one myself," Aífe said with a snort and a smirk. "With the right supplies, that is."

"Sorry, we're fresh out of sea monster bones," I said. "Would crabs work?"

Mash blinked at me, confused, even as Rika burst out into startled laughter, rolling over onto her back so she could wrap her arms around her stomach and throw her head back against the ground. The rest of us watched her, Ritsuka and I both apparently a little concerned that she was laughing so hard at what wasn't really that funny a joke.

"Oh god, Senpai!" Rika wheezed. "I didn't know you had it in you!"

What? It wasn't like that was the first time I'd made a joke around them. I wasn't sure Rika even really got it anyway, not the whole thing at least, but apparently whatever part of it she did understand was somehow incredibly funny.

"Ordinary crabs wouldn't be enough," Aífe said at length, having decided to ignore Rika's slowly weakening cackles. "No, we'd need to find a magical beast of some kind, which shouldn't be too hard. I can only imagine the reason we haven't been accosted already is because the ones still alive in this era are wary of engaging so many Servants."

"Fou, fou!" The little beast puffed itself up, throwing out its chest proudly, as though to declare that it was the reason nothing else had tried making a meal out of us. "Fou kyuu fou!"

"Or maybe they're scared of Fou," said Mash, smiling slightly, in the tone of voice of a mother indulging her child.

Fou didn't seem entirely pleased with that, until Mash reached up with one finger and scratched under his chin. Then, he seemed only happy to lean into her finger and let her scratch without complaint, like some kind of ordinary housecat.

Aífe arched one eyebrow, but chose not to deny the possibility. It said something — although I wasn't quite sure what — that I couldn't deny it outright, either.

There was something about that creature. I still didn't know what, but whatever it was that put me on edge, there was nothing to say that it didn't do the same for anyone or anything else, either. It was entirely possible that whatever I felt, whatever instinct made me want to always keep Fou in my line of sight, the magical beasts around here could feel it, too.

"Whatever the case," Aífe said, "if we could find the right supplies, I'm sure I could fashion something for you Masters to make use of. Perhaps not the strongest weapon — not lacking, as I am, in my more tutelary aspects — but something, at least."

"That would be useful," I allowed, "but only as a last resort. Whatever we feel, a Master's place is in the rear, as far away from danger as she possibly can be."

The weight of my dagger suddenly felt like a stone strapped to my body. The words came out of my mouth, but they were Marie's — one of the first and, as she had said, most important lessons we Master candidates would learn.

I had never been particularly good about staying in my supposed lane, though.

Stolen story; please report.

"Without Senpai and Miss Taylor," Mash began, "Chaldea can't do anything at all. That's why…it's so important that we Servants are also around to protect them."

"Because mankind's future rests on our shoulders," Ritsuka mumbled. I wasn't sure I was meant to hear it.

"So, you know," Rika said sarcastically, "no pressure, right?"

"All the more reason, it seems to me, to ensure you can at least take care of yourselves," said Aífe. She stepped back over to Rika and toed the girl with the tip of one of her boots. "Which means if you have the energy to sass, you have the energy to try again."

Rika groaned and rolled over to escape Aífe's foot. Aífe arched one eyebrow. "I have ways of motivating stubborn students, you know. They tend not to be particularly…pleasant."

Immediately, Rika shot to her feet, squeaking, "I'm good, I'm good!"

With a sigh, I stood, straightening as my joints popped a little and my spine crackled. "I'm going to check on Boudica," I announced.

Everyone glanced my way. Aífe nodded and told me, "When you get back, we'll begin our next lesson on Primordial Runes."

"Do you want some company, Miss Taylor?" Mash asked.

"Fou," the little gremlin mumbled dubiously.

Yeah, well, you were the one that decided to tag along with us again. If anyone should be complaining, it's me.

I shook my head.

"It's fine. Stay here and look after the twins. I won't be gone all that long."

Mash nodded. "Okay, then."

As I walked away, I heard Aífe start putting Rika through the ringer, again. "Alright, I've shown you how to do that hold, now try and put me into it."

"Even Emiya's cooking isn't worth this…"

Boudica's tent wasn't all that far away, so it didn't take me that long to walk over to it, but it was far enough that we wouldn't be overheard as long as no one started shouting. The ties holding the flaps together for privacy were undone — the weather had been mild and dry the last few days, so no need to worry about rain — and I pushed it aside as I entered.

The tent's lone occupant looked up at me sharply, seafoam green eyes glinting like daggers in the light of the magic circle that glowed beneath her, and then relaxed as she realized who it was. "Oh, Taylor. It's just you."

"Boudica," I greeted her. "Were you expecting someone else?"

"Spartacus has been fretting ever since we got back," she admitted. "I think he thinks it's his fault that I was injured. It's not, really," she added, like she needed to come to his defense. "Neither of us was expecting Scaeva to have a second Noble Phantasm that got stronger the longer the fight went on."

That had been an unpleasant surprise. The name Marcus Cassius Scaeva hadn't meant anything to me when she'd revealed it, nor to any of our other Servants, but Marcus — our legionnaire Marcus, the young Centurion — had promptly revealed that to be the name of the warrior he'd told that story about. The one who had fought to exhaustion, taken an arrow to the eye, and kept on fighting.

The lame eye in Boudica's report had suddenly made a lot more sense.

"Spartacus, fretting?" I asked. I had a hard time picturing it, although trying to imagine his bulky, musclebound figure squeezed into a nurse's outfit was actually pretty funny.

She smiled. "It's not easy to tell, is it?" She laughed a little. "I've been around him long enough to see it, though. He feels responsible for my arm, even though we were both careless in that fight. It's at least as much my fault as it is his."

"Speaking of…"

I gestured to her missing arm. She blinked and looked down. "Oh! Yes, here."

She held out the wounded arm, no longer wrapped up in bandages because they were no longer needed. There was something…strange and unsettling about seeing her arm end abruptly, not in flesh and blood and bone, but in glittering particles of light — the same dusty motes that we saw whenever a Servant was about to disappear.

She wasn't disappearing, though. The opposite, actually. There was more of her arm than there had been when she came back from her fight with Scaeva. Not much more, only an inch or two, but it was an inch or two that she hadn't had before. At the rate she was going, though, it probably would take the whole two weeks to get back the whole thing.

The most unsettling part about it, or maybe the part that just felt strangest, was how it was coming back. It wasn't like what I'd seen from other regenerators as a cape, where the flesh filled back in like wax into a mold, but more like the limb was still there, just invisible, and it was slowly being revealed one little bit at a time.

My own right arm ached sympathetically.

Better, at least, than not getting it back at all. I wasn't sure how we would have worked around a crippled Boudica for the rest of the Singularity.

"Looks like you're recovering," I said for lack of anything better.

"One of the advantages of being a Servant," she replied with a wry twist of her smile. Her arm dropped back down to her side.

I'll say.

How convenient it was, to be able to regrow lost limbs with nothing more than enough time and energy.

"I'll be glad when it's back to normal," she went on, sighing. "I feel kind of useless just sitting here while everyone else is working and preparing. Poor Emiya must be swamped, having to cook without me there to help."

I couldn't stop the snort that ripped out of my nostrils or the slight smile that curled my lips. "I think he prefers it this way, actually. Less competition."

"I'm sure he does," Boudica agreed with a laugh. "For all his talents, however, I'm afraid he still knows very little about the flavor of authentic Britannian cooking!"

For what that was worth. Even if he wasn't as good at Western dishes as he was traditional East Asian meals, I would still have agreed he was a professional chef without hesitation, were anyone to ask. Boudica's food wasn't bad either, but she came from a time before spices were easily and readily available at the local supermarket. It put something of a limit on what she could do.

She sighed. "Anyway. How are the others? I haven't been able to look after them as well as I want to from in here."

"Anxious, I think," I answered. "And probably sore, from Aífe's training."

I was doing better than them, but only because I'd spent two years pushing my body to its limits to prepare for the end of the world, and while that might have slowed down at Chaldea because there was so much I needed to learn, it hadn't ever truly stopped. I was used to running myself ragged.

"It will definitely be rough, but it will also serve them well," Boudica said. "And I suppose… Anxious, because they're waiting for Emperor Nero to arrive?"

"Right."

It wasn't like I wasn't a little impatient, too. There was still so much we needed to do, starting with figuring out how many Servants the enemy still had access to, where they were placed, and what sort of forces Rome itself had under its banner as well. If there were other Servants loyal to Nero or just here to correct the distortion, that would be invaluable knowledge.

"And you?"

One of my eyebrows rose. "What about me?"

"Are you anxious for Emperor Nero to arrive, as well?" she asked pointedly.

"Perhaps," I hedged carefully.

Boudica smiled and shook her head. "Aífe was right. You are impatient, aren't you?"

"It's not that we have little time, but more that we waste a good deal of it," I recited. "We're sitting here, twiddling our thumbs, while we wait for Emperor Nero, who might not tell us anything we don't know. Meanwhile, there are five more Singularities in need of solving with no idea what the situation is like in each of them, and if we don't solve them all in a little over a year, mankind as a whole goes extinct. Am I supposed to sit back and relax while the world ends?"

"No, but…" She sighed. "I'm sorry. Compared to the burden you, Ritsuka, Rika, and Mash are carrying, my problems must seem so very petty, don't they? But… Even if it was the regional governors who wronged me and my family most, I just can't let go of the anger in my heart. Not entirely. That's why…I guess I'm not very eager to see Emperor Nero again. "

But she did. Even if she smothered it underneath duty and compassion, she could still ignore it long enough to do what she needed to do. I could understand her hesitation — I hadn't been thrilled at the idea of recruiting Sophia, even if her and her cruelties had wound up seeming so petty and small compared to the rest of the shit I'd had to deal with — but I could also admire the strength of will and character it took to put your own problems aside to face a bigger threat.

There was no reason we couldn't make things a little easier on her, though.

"If you want," I began, "we can tell Emperor Nero that you're too injured to talk. We don't need to have you there for what we need to ask him about."

She smiled and shook her head. "Thank you, Taylor, that's very kind, but I think it's better if I don't hide away. When Nero arrives, I'll be right there with the rest of you and your team, no matter what I feel deep down inside."

I suppose it only made sense that a woman who had faced down the might of the Roman Empire would have the courage to face it again.

I nodded. "I'm sure you'll hear when the Emperor shows up, but just in case you don't…"

One hand stretched out, and the ladybug that had been secreted away scurried down my arm, over my palm, up my finger, and then took off from my fingertip. Curious, Boudica reached out and let it land on her own finger, and the ladybug crawled down to sit in her palm, antennae twitching.

"She'll let you know."

Boudica looked down, fascinated, and I had the ladybug flutter its wings a couple of times, just to show her I still had control.

"Of course. Thank you, Taylor."

With everything that needed to be said having been said, I turned around and left, pushing the tent flap out of the way. It swung closed behind me, and I walked back over to the rest of the Chaldea group — just in time for Rika to finally put Aífe in the pin as it had been demonstrated.

"Ha!" Rika crowed, panting. "Gotcha!"

"Good job," Aífe praised her, calm and even, despite the awkward position her body had been contorted into. There was no doubt that she could have broken free at any moment, if she wanted.

"Miss Taylor!" Mash exclaimed when she caught sight of me.

"Senpai!" Rika called over, grinning broadly. She took one hand off of Aífe to wave at me. "How's Queen Booty?"

"Well enough," I replied. Just then, Aífe twisted around, using Rika's grip on her arm to turn the tables and pull Rika into the exact same hold.

"Oof!" Rika grunted. The air left her lungs in a huff.

"She's recovering, but it's still slow," I went on, as though nothing had happened. "It's still going to be a while before she's got her whole arm back."

"U-urgh," Rika groaned. "W-wha…?"

"You let go," Aífe scolded her. "You left yourself open to my counter."

"B-but we were done!" Rika whined. "I used that move just like you taught me to!"

"I didn't say we were," was Aífe's retort. "Don't let your guard down, even if the enemy is subdued. If you leave an opening, they will take advantage of it."

"Okay, okay!" said Rika. "Let me up, let me up!"

Huffing, Aífe let go and climbed off of her newest student. The instant she was gone, Rika scrambled as far away as she could, panting and rubbing at her shoulder.

"Miss Aífe's teaching style sure is harsh," Mash murmured.

"Such is the way of the ancient Celts," Arash commented. "Undoubtedly, this is the sort of thing Cúchulainn and other Irish heroes experienced, as well."

"I guess it's my turn now." I rolled my shoulders. "Primordial Runes, right?"

"Right."

Aífe beckoned me over, and as she drew those arcane symbols into the dirt, she explained their form, function, and stroke order.

It was a lot like how I remembered learning the alphabet and how to write. The comparison wasn't one-to-one, but there was a very similar sort of feel to it, because combining runes to form complex spells was sort of like forming sentences with actual language.

Of course, it wasn't that easy. Runes had their own spells attached from the base, too, sort of like each rune was a word, or a concept, more abstract or more concrete depending on the rune. This rune could be used for fire, for example, or it could be used for light, and so on. How you channeled energy into the rune, how you carved it, what substance you carved it into, what order you did the stroke or strokes in, those could all change how the spell manifested. That was runic conjugation, for lack of a better word.

That was before getting into…conjunction, I guess was as good a term for it as any. Or construction. Combining runes to form more complex spells required knowing not only the stroke order for the individual runes, but how each of the runes combined together, and how the order of those runes changed the resulting spell. The more runes you added, the more complicated things got and the more meanings and orders you had to juggle.

So maybe comparing it to learning a new language wasn't that big of a stretch after all.

No matter what, it wasn't something I could learn in an afternoon, or in a few days, or even a week, for that matter. It was a long term study, one that would take years of practice to master. I found myself wishing Aífe had kept her tutelary aspects, if only so we could hurry it up and I could learn these runes almost immediately.

I cheated, in any case. Meaning and combination, construction, those were all things I was going to have to learn and memorize the old fashioned way. Shape and stroke order, though? Those, I could practice with my bugs, out of sight. I had a whole colony of ants dedicated to it, in fact, out in the woods. As Aífe instructed me, I had them marching in lines, spelling out the runes in the proper stroke order, then in reversed order, then in inversion, and I mentally recited the meaning attached to each one as they went.

It wasn't perfect. I was under no illusions that this was going to help me master these runes anywhere near as quickly as I would have under a version of Aífe with her tailor-made skills and Noble Phantasms. But I was deliberate and careful, making sure I got each one right so that I didn't ingrain any bad habits or improper forms. It was a bit like learning how to write with my off hand, although my ants were far more precise than I would have been in that analogy.

If Aífe suspected my trick, she gave no indication of it.

"Senpai is a fast learner," Ritsuka murmured appreciatively, perhaps thinking I couldn't hear him.

"Miss Taylor always was a dedicated student," Mash agreed, "but I don't remember her learning magecraft this quickly."

"She didn't know it before she came to Chaldea?" Ritsuka asked, surprised. "I thought she was one of those…you know…lifelong magi."

Mash shook her head. "No. There were the primer courses all Master candidates had to take, but even then, Miss Taylor was still learning the basics of magecraft when she joined Chaldea. Director Animusphere tutored her, when she had the time."

My cheek twitched, but I deliberately let that one slide. I'd been afraid of that. So, Marie and I weren't as discreet about it as we thought we were, were we?

"Wow," Rika breathed. "And she learned all of this stuff in just five years?"

"Two," Mash corrected her. "Actually, less than that. Miss Taylor was only introduced as a Master candidate about a year and a half ago, Senpai. She was still working on magecraft fundamentals back then."

"Senpai really is a badass," said Rika.

No, just incredibly dedicated.

"We'll stop here, for now," Aífe announced, and as she stood, I did, too. With a few swipes of her boot, she erased the runes we'd been drawing in the dirt. "We've gone over enough for today, so we'll pick up your lessons the next time we have a chance."

"Right."

I dispersed the colony of ants I'd been using to practice and sent them back to pick up what they'd been doing before I pulled them away.

"They're not wrong," said Aífe consideringly. She eyed me, like she was sizing me up again. "You're picking these up faster than I anticipated."

"Is there something wrong with that?"

Her lips quirked to one side. "No. I'm just rarely wrong about someone's potential."

"Please don't tell me we're going again," Rika begged.

"Not now," said Aífe with a shake of her head.

"Actually, I think it's —" I raised my wrist, and only belatedly realized that neither did I have a watch on, nor were our communicators built to tell the local time — "close to lunchtime."

"Yes!" Rika pumped her fist. "Oh my god, I'm starving! I'm gonna go see what Emiya —"

There was a sudden commotion from closer to the edge of camp, and Marcus came sprinting past us as he whispered furiously to every legionnaire he passed. Whatever he said lit a fire under each one's ass, and they all scrambled into formation, linking up into their proper squads, some decked out in their armor and some dressed only in togas or tunics. They all snapped to attention, forming into two columns, with an empty path between them that stretched towards the entrance to the camp.

A moment later, Marcus reappeared and raced towards the front, jamming his helmet on as he went.

"Hail, Emperor Nero!" he bellowed out.

"Hail, Emperor Nero!" the rest of the cohort echoed.

The clop of approaching hooves that I hadn't noticed before because I was too focused on my lessons with Aífe slowed from a gallop to a light canter and then to a slow walk, and a new column of mounted cavalry trotted into camp. A quick count showed about thirty men, total.

"Sons of Rome," a lilting, almost lyrical voice proclaimed grandly, "lift up your heads and your hearts! Banish the shadows of your fears and the weary fatigue of your days spent toiling!"

The speaker was a petite woman in a red dress with gold armor, sitting astride a stallion bedecked in imperial finery. She cut a striking figure, with a skirt of white cloth sheer enough to show her bare thighs, golden blonde hair done up in a complicated bun, and eyes so green that they glittered in the sunlight.

She rode at the front of a procession of stony-faced men armored in silvery steel accented with gold tracery and patterns. Each of the soldiers behind her and beside her was never so far away that they couldn't throw themselves in the way of an attack, and they held themselves stiffly, alert to their surroundings at every moment.

The woman pressed one hand to her chest, splaying her fingers in the valley of a bust that seemed all the larger on her petite frame. "You have no more need of them, for your emperor has arrived!"

She was also the spitting image —

"Holy crap!" said Rika. "Tell me that's not who I think it is!"

"Y-your Majesty?" Mash gasped.

"What's she doing here?" asked Ritsuka, panicking. "I thought we beat her back in Fuyuki!"

— of King Arthur.