Duke Samuel Rothbard admitted, albeit silently to himself, that he had not truly given much thought to how the dragon sitting at the back of the Helephant transport would comport himself on a moment to moment basis. Strange and anti-social were simultaneously not sufficient descriptors for Axis Mortimer and also completely inaccurate. He had behaved in a similarly stand-offish manner when they had lifted off from his deployment camp on the way to Rothbard’s cruiser, the ICS Invisible Ward. Greetings and accommodating pleasantries from Rothbard’s crew were met with brief and direct responses and only minimal adherence to proper decorum. What dedication to ceremonial propriety he did uphold was specifically of the military variety, but uniquely to the mando drakes and officers beneath his rank of Grand Knight. He seemed to Rothbard to bask in their deference to him, even if it was only by virtue of position and title, and the behavior made more evident to the Duke that Axis’s uniform was pristine. Not a wrinkle to be found in the fabric and each bit of metal or enamel buffed and shined to a shimmering glow. To Rothbard’s higher ranking officers however, the young dragon was just as curt and incensing as he had been to Rothbard himself. The elder officers handled his attitude with cool grace bled from their commanding officer, but not a full standard day passed before Rothbard had to meet with and calm the enraged heads of his younger Grand Knights. He had falsely assumed most of them to have known Axis’ story, which while not necessarily excusing his behavior, did at least offer some explanation to the insulted officers.

To the Duke’s relief however, Axis kept mostly to his assigned quarters aboard the vessel on their voyage to The Loft, maintaining himself and his space in pristine cleanliness and professional appearance in spite of this. Rothbard held his distance from the dragon, wishing to observe him as much as possible to compare to the psych-eval he’d received from the Machinery Navy Admiralty, and found no discrepancy to the cold, superiority driven disinterest described except in one area. Once within every twenty-hour cycle of the voyage, Axis would join the members of Rothbard’s away teams on the firing range and many times in the mess or armory thereafter. When he questioned them about Axis, they reported a drake of a polar opposite nature to what he displayed to everyone, everywhere else. He was a superb marksman with a harness for one, but a jovial conversationalist with an equally sharp sniper’s tongue on all manner of subjects. They had apparently swapped stories of missions, discussed the best ways to pilot starfighters inside magnetic storms, and strategies against the demons.

This attitude had been completely absent from the report from the Admiralty, and Rothbard suspected it was out of ignorance, not bias. After all, it wasn’t the Admiralty themselves who generated the reports, and he highly doubted Axis’s infamy had bled so far down into the ranks of the Navy to reach the table jockeys who had compiled his personnel file. Rather, Rothbard saw in Axis the very thing that so many born and bred warriors exhibited: a conscious exclusion of all but their closest equals from an honest expression of their selves and a hard, brutal disdain for those who could not possibly understand that life. And while it was trait tolerated in soldiers for the camaraderie it fostered, it was distinctly not a trait that would be well received by Imperial royalty, of which Axis would become whether he wanted to accept it or not should he manage to become a Duke.

“Well Sam old drake,” Rothbard muttered to himself against the whine of Helephant drives, “his skills at least shouldn’t embarrass you. That’ll be nice for once.” He rubbed his temples with the palms of his wings before turning his more present attention to Axis. “Grand Knight Mortimer, we’ll be touching down soon, so now is the time for me to brief you on your selection.”

“I’m listening,” Axis said, maneuvering himself across the deployment bay until he was directly opposite Rothbard.

“Firstly, the moment you leave this ship, you will no longer be Grand Knight Axis Mortimer,” Rothbard explained. “You will merely be Axis. A dragon without House or title. And you will be as such until you are either selected or fail.”

Axis nodded in acknowledgement but canted his head to the side as he said, “Not to be the crass asshat they all see me as, but my “House” is about as dead as they come.”

“Be that as you see it,” Rothbard rebuked, “but in the context of this selection, it will mean you have no standing and are worthy of no respect in anyone’s eyes. To elevate yourself, you will lower yourself. This is the way of the Duke and has been since our inception and you will abide it.” Axis nodded again slower this time, but offered no punctuating remark. “Secondly,” Rothbard continued, “to become a Duke is to become royalty on equal standing with a Matriarch. Selection constitutes far more than demonstrating your lethality on the field of battle. You must show yourself to be a drake they will welcome as a Brother into their Sisterhood. This will be your first task of selection. To proceed, you must earn the sponsorship of one of the Matriarchs. In this, your methods shall be your own.”

The Helephant shuddered around them as it decelerated and slight vertigo gripped the cabin as it rotated on its axis to come down for a landing. A mocking face of disbelief completely enveloped Axis’s face as he stared down Rothbard’s stern, unchanging, blank expression. That the gears in his head were processing the multitude of implications of Rothbard’s statement were evident as was his indignant lack of all desire to accept the task. The elder Duke had expected as much and it was at this beginning stage of selection that he had seen many a selectee balk at the prospect and fail utterly. Warriors usually made rather poor politicians but Dukes were required to fulfill both roles and for this, Rothbard did not relent his gaze. To Axis’ credit, he didn’t let his mouth hang open for an overly long time, instead shaking his head as if to clear it, blinking rapidly and heaving an exasperated breath. The Helephant groaned as it touched on the landing platform and through the hiss of the hydraulics releasing the boarding ramp, Axis said, “I guess sleeping with one of them isn’t on the short list of options, huh?” And before Rothbard could respond as furiously as the suggestion demanded, Axis rounded out of the transport.

Rothbard allowed himself a low snarl of regret for the chance he had taken before composing himself and following his selectee. They emerged into one of the upper hangars of the Palace of the Loft, eight other Helephants docked around their own while a Ridley-class cruiser rested in the far reaches of the gargantuan expanse of the bay. Standing at attention before the other transports were the other selectees, flanked behind by their selector Dukes. Rothbard and Axis took their positions among the others and while it was slight, Rothbard could see the ever so small movement in Axis’s neck as he examined his fellows. Five of the drakes were in Navy dress fatigues like Axis, two wore simple dress clothes of the more common civilian variety. Their more full frames strained against the threads meant for more business minded dragons, clearly having never been intended for the self-made mercenaries they likely were. And lastly, a single dragoness disrupted the line of drakes in a striking if conservative gown.

Before them were three senior Dukes, one in full ceremonial plate and his compatriots in combat armor and canon harnesses. “Duke Rothbard, you’re late,” the plate adorned dragon said.

“A situation at the pickup site, Duke Holland,” Rothbard replied evenly. “The Ward lent her guns to the issue before we broke orbit.”

“Resolved?”

“Cleanly.”

“Very well…” Duke Holland answered before clearing his throat and addressing the gathered selectees. “Dragons, the nine of you are here because you have demonstrated traits desired by the Duchery and her mission. However, to join our ranks, you must demonstrate your right to walk the halls of the court of our master, the Star Queen. The Matriarchs are the keepers of this court and if they reject you, so shall we. You shall be granted a week to prove yourself in the halls of the Palace of the Loft, and should no Matriarch acknowledge you in that time, you shall be cast out. Do you accept these terms?”

A chorus of “I accept” rang through the emptiness of the hangar and Duke Holland nodded his approval. “A word of caution. You are nameless. Better than a slave only by the grace of your wings. Expect no accommodation for foolish assumptions by this account.” Looking past the selectees, Holland addressed his Dukes, “You are to return to your cruisers in orbit. You will be called should your presence be required.” No words of affirmation followed, merely the thrum of Helephant drives and the buffeting winds as they lifted off out of the hangar. Duke Holland spared one final look to the selectees before striding back deeper into the hangar with his subordinates.

Holland had become barely a speck in the distance before any of the nine dragons even relaxed from their stiff attention stance. In reflexive habit, Axis’s front foot tapped relentlessly against the hard steel floor as he wracked his brain for the beginnings of a plan for how best to proceed, both in the short and long term. The other dragons milled amongst themselves, exchanging greetings and polite well wishes of good luck. Axis would have paid them no mind as a rather brilliant, if unpleasant, idea was taking shape in his head; but one of the non-military drakes was making steady progress in his direction with clear intent to speak with him. “Peter,” the dragon introduced himself with a typical inclination of the neck. Axis raised a single brow and focused that self same eye on Peter without a hint of turning his head. He scanned the dragon over, noting some rather severe laceration scars around the drake’s upper front legs that seemed like they extended to his shoulders beneath his clothes.

“Slaver?” Axis guessed, still not turning to face the dragon and making no attempt to disguise his disapproval of the trade.

“A long time ago,” Peter acquiesced, seemingly not offended. “It was the family business but I went off as a gun for hire defending farms on a free world. Watching your pops get beaten to death in a slave riot changes how you see things, ya know.”

“A free world?” Axis asked, interest piqued enough to offer the drake his full attention. “Which one?”

“Little moon of the fifth planet in the Moodus system,” Peter replied. “It’s quiet. Nice and simple. Killed one of the demons that had managed to get into town and was on the Duchery radar after that. You? I wouldn’t peg you as the Duchery type by your size.”

“Well neither of us would say that girl over there fits the bill either, yet here we all are,” Axis replied, nodding his head in the direction of the dragoness. “Axis Mortimer,” he added, extending a talon.

“You’re not Imperial born then,” Peter chuckled, taking Axis’s talon in his own, if awkwardly.

“Oh no I am,” Axis said. “But when your homeworld’s an Exodus Event site, and you’re raised by the Office and its Watchers before being deported back here, you don’t have a lot of the… culture…” Peter recoiled at his sarcastically mocking tone and remained silent. “So that would be why I’m here,” Axis carried on casually. “This first bit’s gonna be a bitch though lemme tell ya.”

“For you maybe!” one of the military drakes shouted from behind Peter. When both dragons eyed him, he added, “Be careful around that one, Peter. They say he arranged the deaths of his entire spec ops team so he could have command.”

“Cut the shit, ‘ling,” Peter shot back. “He’d be in a very lonely hole somewhere if the Admiralty found that was true.”

“Oh yeah,” the drake said, striding over with another of the military drakes, both staring Axis up and down. “The bastard’s pretty clever from what I’ve heard. Coulda made it look like a simple casualty. Fog of war’s convenient that way.”

“From what you’ve heard?” Peter huffed. “Military rumor doesn’t have the best rap ‘ling.”

“There’s more stories about Axis Mortimer than some admirals and captains,” the drake hissed. “Gotta have a common link somewhere in all that.”

“You might wanna stay outta this one, Pete,” Axis said, matching the gazes of the two drakes in front of him. “They’ve clearly got something to say to me.”

“Yeah. How about you’re a rat bastard who’d sooner kill a Matriarch than take a bolt for one,” the drake’s companion spat.

“What’s your names?” Axis asked, unflinching.

“Why would we give our names to someone like you?” the first dragon replied incredulously.

“Well…” Axis mused, taking his eyes off them to scratch at his chin. By now, the rest of the nine had gathered behind Axis’s accusers and were watching intently, no doubt expecting a less than peaceful outcome. “If I know your names, I can try to remember if I ever blew your mothers’ brains into a wall since that’d be the only reason I can think of for having it out for me like this.”

“You wanna die right here, right now?!” the first drake seethed, talons extending from all four of his paws with his companion following suite.

“Do you?” Axis quipped back with a malicious grin.

“Fine!” the drake roared, and he and his fellow lunged for Axis, talons outstretched. Axis’s smile vanished into cold focus and in a motion, he sidestepped between the two drakes. One of his front paws darted out, gripping one of the drakes by the neck while with equal speed, his tail whipped around with a strangle hold on the other. His talons unsheathed and with a guttural snarl, he slammed both drakes onto the hangar’s steel floor with resounding cracks. The one captured by his tail went limp instantly while the other struggled weakly before Axis leaned down close with his other talon’s metal coated claw precariously close to the drake’s eye.

“So while we’re both in such intimate proximity,” Axis whispered to the drake, “let’s agree that if I wanted someone dead, I wouldn’t need to let some hapless fool’s stray bolt do the job for me.” Without waiting for a reply, he slammed the drake’s head onto the steel again, knocking him out cold. He released them both and sheathed his talons, shivering his scales and feathers back into alignment with a sharp intake of breath. “Now that that’s done, I don’t know ‘bout the rest of ya’ll but I’ve gotta get to work,” he said to the other sternly observant selectees. “Peter,” he nodded in the dragon’s direction before setting off into the hangar.

“Savage, uncouth brute,” the dragoness hissed once he was well out of earshot.

“Savage is the word,” one of the other military drakes echoed her in wary admiration.

“Maybe, but that wasn’t the technique of a brute,” Peter’s fellow mercenary said. “That was high level martial training.”

“Watcher technique, actually,” Peter added. “I’ve seen a few recordings of their fights with the demons and that was too similar to their form to be coincidence. He wasn’t tall taling about being raised by them.”

“I’m not an idiot,” the dragoness rolled her eyes. “Of course the form was perfect. Even a laydragon would’ve been able to see that. But only a vindictive animal would use technique designed to fight immortal demons against mortal dragons in the heat of passion.”

“Well we won’t see much of him for very long if his answer to every problem is a beat down, Katya,” another of the military drakes shrugged.

“Hopefully,” Katya agreed.

Axis resisted the urge to gag and leer at his surroundings. In the upper levels of the Palace of the Loft where the royalty commonly traveled or the upper landing rings for visiting dignitaries from across the Empire, he could at least rationalize lavish decor and unrestrained displays of wealth even if neither were to his taste. But such extravagancies extended even to where he was now. Having left the hangar behind, he’d entered into the Palace’s lower levels and begun following the flow of servants down halls, elevators, and through the tram system further and further into the lower levels until the servants began intermingling with slaves and finally only slaves were to be seen. Yet even here, where he knew no dragon who took their status as Imperial citizens even mildly seriously would be caught dead, the floors were either tiled in beautiful sparkling white and sapphire tile or waxed and shined to mirror finish metal. Every light fixture was of the finest, elegant bronzework and none flickered or shone less brightly than any of the others. His HUD contacts were ablaze with detailed information on directions, door numbers, room purposes, and whether based on his current position he would be able to catch the nearest tram without bolting like a madman. All the way down in the slave quarters of the Palace, everything still operated like the work of a master timekeeper’s hands.

Axis could appreciate the precision of it, as he demanded as much from himself and had demanded it from Aaron just as well; but the whole atmosphere reeked of excessive adherence to meaningless protocol, staining the beauty of it. On the more positive end of things, the sheer volume of visual stimuli allowed Axis to not dwell on his immediate future, which he was in no way looking forward to. He wandered the slave quarter, absently steering himself in whichever direction held the most traffic and eventually began asking for directions to the slavemaster’s office. He spoke in Common, as was his preference when he could manage it, and the slaves gladly gave him the information he needed after overcoming their initial shock that a dragon would deign to speak in a language they could actually understand.

Through this process, he finally made it to said office and felt his eyes half lid upon entering even if he accepted he shouldn’t have been surprised. In a place as massive as the Palace of the Loft, the role of slavemaster would have been impossible for a single dragon to manage alone. The office was thus more of a breakroom for the many slavemasters in the Palace’s employ. It was the polar opposite of the pristine workings of the halls outside; a dingy, dimly lit gray on gray on gray room a more well traveled dragon would have been forgiven for mistaking for a backwater city bar. Only a few steps into the space, Axis paused and restrained himself, as he could feel a sticky substance coating the floor and making a sickening popping sound with his every step. The far end of the slavemaster’s office featured a cafeteria counter of sorts while the left side was occupied by several rows of booth style tables and the right contained an array of seating cushions (which were all so disparate in style and state of disrepair they were likely at one point from the royal chambers around the Palace), card trays, and HUD modems for accessing entertainment. Dragons loafed around the area, their blue and black uniforms leaving much to be desired in cleanliness with some even collapsed in graceless sleep on the larger cushions. Not one even glanced in his direction when he entered.

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“Huh…” Axis muttered to himself before flexing his neck, clearing his throat and booming out, “I AM GRAND KNIGHT AXIS MORTIMER AND IF I HAVE TO GO LOOKING FOR THE HEAD SLAVEMASTER THERE WILL BE HELL TO PAY!”

“That’s me you’re looking for, Grand Knight,” a small dragoness’s voice peeped through the bleak silence that followed. Axis swung his head left and right searching for the source, even straining his eyes when he did not immediately spot the dragoness. “Over here!” her tiny voice squeezed out into the air, and Axis finally found her, wings extended to make her easier to spot behind the cafeteria counter.

Axis took rather large steps across the room (the better for contacting the sticky floor as few times as possible), contemplated sitting at the counter, and swiftly thought better of it. “I think you have a… ah… personnel problem, slavemaster,” Axis said, glancing back at the room with a small tut.

“Don’t we all,” the slavemaster squeaked wearily. “Imma guess that isn’t why you’re here though.”

“Unfortunately not,” Axis concurred. “Since you and your…” he couldn’t help but glance back at the utter complacency again, “... colleagues run the slave routines in the Palace, I assume you know the status of the royalty here.”

“Who’s asking?” the slavemaster tilted her head at him.

“Me,” Axis answered with a note a finality.

“Sure, yeah I guess,” the slavemaster said as if she had never put on a tough act in the first place.

“Then you’d know if Crown Princess Charlie DelRose was currently here or not,” Axis continued, content to ignore her resistance if she was.

“Yeah, she’s here. Got in about three days ago,” the dragoness replied.

“And I further assume, Slavemaster…”

“Fedicci.”

“Slavemaster Fedicci, I assume the slaves that serve her here aren’t necessarily her personal slaves but work for her when she’s here in the Palace,” Axis said.

“Yeah. There an issue with any of ‘em?” Fedicci asked, leery.

“Um… wouldn’t know,” Axis shrugged. “I was hoping you could have one escort me up to wherever she’s at currently.”

“Well, I can,” Slavemaster Fedicci said slowly, clearly choosing her words carefully, “but I need you to scan in your HUD for security clearance. Standard protocol for proximity escorts like that is all.”

“Ah ha…” Axis chuckled. He’d been hoping this exact situation wouldn’t present itself but he did suppose it was well outside the realm of luck to avoid. “How to put this…” he mumbled. “Due to the nature of my visit to the Palace let’s say, my clearances have been stripped.”

“Well, Grand Knight,” Fedicci said with too much sympathy in her tone for it be in any way genuine, “no clearances, no proximity escorts.”

“Hey now,” Axis stopped her before she was able to step away from him, “there’s more than one way to skin a cat.” He still had her attention but it was bewildered at the human figure of speech more than anything. “Okay, look, I take it if she gave permission I could get an escort, yes?”

“Sure?” the slavemaster said without a shred of belief the Crown Princess would want to see a random military officer.

“Then send a message to one of her ladies-in-waiting that Pi Mortimer’s brother would like to see her,” Axis said, barely restraining the smirk at the spark of recognition of his sister’s name and equally powerful connection the slavemaster made between his black and green coloration and that of his twin sister.

“Tanner!” Fedicci nearly shrieked to one of her subordinates, whose head looked to her drearily before tightening from her intense expression. “Send a direct alert to Tiana DelRose’s HUD that she needs to inform the Crown Princess that Captain Mortimer’s brother is here at the Palace for her. Now!”

“Yes Ma’am,” Tanner replied, swiveling around and adjusting one of the HUD routers for work purposes.

“I’m going to go ahead and call an escort down here for you Grand Knight Mortimer,” Fedicci said almost apologetically. “You could’ve said right away you were Pi’s brother. You’d probably be on your way up already.”

“Eh… I wouldn’t be too sure,” Axis mused. “Not to mention I don’t like to abuse my sister’s name and she mine. Charlie will see me, but she probably won’t be happy about it… Scrap that, she just won’t be happy about it. Not a doubt in my mind.”

“Be careful who hears you call her that,” Fedicci said.

“Appreciate the concern, but it’s really not necessary,” Axis laughed. “Really, it’s not.”

“The Crown Princess is waiting in CR8227, North Wing, Ma’am,” Tanner interjected. “She’ll see him. Miss DelRose advised we hurry. Apparently the Princess was in a meeting with some of the Admiralty and is fuming. Literally, Ma’am.”

“Oh this is going to be a trip,” Axis drolled.

“Go go!” Fedicci shooed at him. “A slave named Mug will meet you in the hall and bring you up.”

“Pleasure,” Axis nodded and took to the still gaudy but far cleaner hall outside the slavemaster’s office. The slave Mug was indeed ready to escort him to the upper reaches of the Palace in short order, and like the others Axis had spoken with, was at first astonished then eager to speak with a dragon in Common.

“Odd duck you are,” Mug observed as they flew up their seventh elevator after four trams. “Dragon who’ll speak good Common to a slave who’s also important enough for the Crown Princess to ask for ya.” He shook his head. “This way,” he said as the elevator doors opened. They were now in the upper levels of the Palace. The Royal quarter where the Matriarchs could live, worked, and all matters of the Empress’s rule and life were conducted. If the lower levels were lavish, the Royal quarter was downright opulent. That they were in the DelRose tower was plainly evident to Axis, as every surface of the towering hall was decked in the House tricolors of pink, red, and silver. Not a single material visible was of a practical nature. The finest animal fur and skin from the House’s homeworld made up the carpets and rugs, the masonry of the walls was coated not in paint but lacquered in mother-of-pearl and enamel. No window was without some element of stained glass displaying a legendary scene from the House’s long history and each door was inlaid with beautiful carvings of House accomplishments. Massive banners hung from the ceiling displaying the various versions of the DelRose heraldry from across the millennia and recesses along the hall held priceless artifacts of warriors and leaders belonging to the House. All of this only on one floor of the DelRose tower, likely repeated in increasing extravagance to the peak where the Matriarch DelRose’s living quarters and personal offices could be found.

“Right through this here, m’lord,” Mug gestured to a door with a bow. “I’ll take my leave.”

“Yeah, I’d say do that in a hurry,” Axis said, with a sardonic edge. “I wouldn’t want anyone else to get singed over this bitch.”

“Say no more, m’lord,” Mug laughed, quick on the uptake and leaving back through the hall.

“Pi is gonna have my feathers for this,” Axis braced himself before activating the door and stepping into the room. He stood inside a currently not in use conference room, beautifully apportioned just as the hall outside but with elements of a more practical nature. Only two dragonesses waited inside and both whipped their heads to him as the door whirred and clicked shut behind him. Crown Princess Charlie DelRose was the picture of draconic gene editing beauty. Her vibrant pink scales were all perfectly sized and positioned with her underscales a deep blood red that created a mesmerizing shift of the two colors with every change in her movement. Her feathers were a stark snow white as were her horns and spines with one eye a brilliant silver and the other a deep gray. Her natural beauty was accentuated by an exceedingly elegant crystal blue gown with no sleeves joined with a dirty white cape that linked to the ends of her wing bones. Axis guessed her current clothes alone were worth more than his life at present. And to top it all off, short tongues of flame licked at the edges of her lips. Said flames ceased the moment she laid eyes on Axis, and he was certain this was more ominous a sign than if she had simply engulfed him in a pillar of roaring fire on the spot.

“Tiana. Out.” she commanded. The lady-in-waiting wordlessly obeyed, clearly quite eager to do just that.

“Trust me, ya don’t wanna be here for this,” Axis murmured to her as she passed him by. A long, threatening, enduring silence seemed to extend the physical distance between him and Charlie after the door had shut behind Tiana, and Axis held an amused sheepish grin for the Crown Princess for the duration.

When Charlie finally spoke, it was a single word brimming with so much vitriol, distrust, and indignation, Axis was sure it would have melted the scales off a lesser dragon. “You…” Charlie DelRose snarled.

“Um… yes. Me,” Axis answered with lilting unconcern. “Ya know Charlie, you really do make it more difficult for me to like you every single time we meet.”

“You call me Charlie again while we stand in the hall of my foremothers and I will have you shot for a reason I will come up with later,” she answered with no faltering of her temper.

“See, there we go, exactly what I was getting at,” Axis tisked. “How am I supposed to like someone who threatens to shoot me for no reason? Or, what was it last time… thrown in a ditch for insects to eat my scales off if I recall correctly, right?”

“Would you prefer being pulverized under the Palace’s drive field?” Charlie shot back.

“I mean, give it your best but the Duchery might not take too kindly to it,” Axis said.

“Excuse me? The Duchery?” Charlie sneered.

“C’mon, Charlie,” Axis sighed, “we both hate each other enough for me to never want to be around you if I can avoid it. So it’s not like I really wanted to meet up, exciting talk of my untimely death notwithstanding.”

“Then we’re agreed that we’re finished here,” Charlie interjected. “I don’t care why you’re here, and if you pull my attention off my actual work again during your stay, I will make sure you regret it.”

“Ah! Hold it, Princess,” Axis said fanning his wings over the door as she crossed the room to leave.

“Axis… move, that’s a military order,” Charlie said, slow and with the full weight of her position behind it.

“A military order that I’m no longer obligated to follow,” Axis chirped. “See, I’m currently in selection, which would be why the Duchery might be none too pleased if you had me offed.”

“You’re joking,” Charlie said flatly. “They actually picked you up?”

“Finally, right?” Axis replied, unrelenting in his falsely cheerful demeanor. “And see, if you walk out that door, you’ll never get to lord over me what I’m about to ask. And since we hate each other pretty equally, I know you wouldn’t pass that up. I wouldn’t.”

Charlie eyed him with a cautious stare before saying, “Go on.”

“Boy did I never want to ever say these words even if my sister does have the hots for you,” Axis huffed.

“Axis!” Charlie snapped, impatient and still seething.

“Right,” he smirked before turning staunchly serious and saying, “Charlie, I need your help.” The ensuing quiet that followed Axis’s request was awkward at best and comical at worst, especially as Charlie’s expression slowly shifted from her default scowl when around him to stunned and blank. It was only when Axis’s eyes half-lidded, unimpressed with her apparent attempt at comedy that Charlie at first convulsed before bursting into pure, unrestrained, mocking laughter. She tried to regain control of herself but one look back to Axis’s unchanged face and she was redoubled with fits of guffaws and giggling. It was a rather stark contrast to her otherwise stately appearance, not that Axis would have needed it to breath a deep sigh of regret. “Ya know, for a girl who was just waggling her princessly authority in my face,” he drolled, “it’s pretty undignified for you to be half rolling on the floor laughing at me.”

“Oh you’ll have to forgive me,” Charlie sputtered between breaths, “did I just hear the invincible, the Watcher-trained Axis Mortimer ask that prissy, stuck-up, political court ornament of a princess for help? Those were the words you used to describe me to Pi after we first met right? You want that dragoness to help you?”

“Just so we’re clear, I do still think you’re a political court ornament,” Axis said, impatient.

“Well, why would this court ornament want to help you?” Charlie asked still mildly giggling.

“I just don’t think my sister would enjoy hearing that you threw me under the bus,” Axis said far too easily. “That’s all.”

As quickly as she had burst into near tears, Charlie’s stony demeanor returned. “How dare you treat your own sister like simple leverage,” she said. “Leave Pi out of this.”

“Oh, with anyone else I would, but it’s your snatch she likes so much, so I’d say her getting dragged into anything is on you first,” Axis shot back.

“Be glad I spent time aboard Navy vessels,” Charlie said, now visibly shaking in her fury. “Any other dragoness here would claw your eyes and tongue out for that remark.”

“Doubtful, but eyes or no eyes Pi would have a very different view of you I think if it was your fault I ended up starving on the street of some godforsaken city,” Axis pushed on, “or worse, just another hired gun.”

“You will owe me,” Charlie relented with no disguising she was none too pleased about doing so. “You will owe me doubly, once for my sake and once for Pi’s. And no one is to know about this”

“That I can live with,” Axis agreed.

“Then what do you need so I can try to forget this whole affair,” Charlie spat.

“Well…” Axis paused, “As Crown Princess you are also the Loft Chief of the Machinery Navy. Meaning you can issue military orders to your discretion without need for any higher approval, yes?”

“I can…” Charlie concurred, concern creeping into her tone.

“It would stand to reason then that you can initiate a drill here in the Palace without revealing that it’s a drill?” Axis pressed.

“Yes. Get to your point,” Charlie said.

“I want you to order a full evacuation of the royal wings of the Palace for security concerns,” Axis replied with a cheery eagerness. “As a simple drill of course.”

“Ignoring the utter stupidity in causing mass panic like that and ignoring the earful I would get from both the Empress and the Admiralty once they learned I issued the drill,” Charlie strained, rubbing her temples with her wings, “Why, exactly?”

“I’d classify that as need-to-know,” Axis answered.

“I’m the one whose neck is on the line for this,” she retorted.

“I need to find a Matriarch to sponsor my continuation in selection,” Axis explained. “Since I refuse to grovel for those primped up socialites, I need a way to learn which ones share my… ah… perspective on authority and power. A mass evacuation works.” Charlie’s only answer was to squint in request for elaboration, to which Axis sighed and added, “I don’t want anything to do with the ones who’d leave their staff behind in a situation like that.”

“So you want to watch as they go out to the evac Helephants and see which ones show up alone?” Charlie begrudgingly surmised, nodding her head in understanding of his intent.

“See! We can work together!” Axis said with triumphant, sarcastic bite.

“A whole lot of good it would do you,” Charlie replied dismissively. “You’re a Duchery selectee. All of your access privileges and clearances have been revoked. Even if you did find out which ones you wanted to approach, you wouldn’t be able to get anywhere even close to one of them.” Axis said nothing, merely tilting in his head at her with a knowing stare. “No!” Charlie hissed. “I will do no such thing! Those are clearances revoked by the Duchery and I will not overstep them!”

“Would you rather I break some bones and dole out some concussions instead?” Axis asked. “I’m really not partial to either method.”

“No and no!” Charlie insisted.

“Okay, look,” Axis tutted, “I’m not asking for full restoration of my clearances. Meet in the middle. I just need to be able to move around the Palace freely and have proximity access. I won’t even ask for armory clearance. Deal?”

“You’ll owe me triple,” Charlie replied after a scowling pause.

“You drive a hard bargain, Charlie,” Axis nodded. “So… how soon can you send them all scrambling for a seat on a Helephant?”

“Tomorrow,” Charlie answered, her tone making it clear this was not up for debate when Axis’s mouth immediately opened to protest. “I have to get your accesses restored anyway.”

“Fine, pleasure doing business, Princess,” Axis said, offering an overly exaggerated curtsy with spread wings before turning to leave.

“Axis wait,” Charlie said to his back just as he was about to exit the room. He stopped and craned his neck back to where she was visibly straining. “Where are you staying during selection?” she asked, refusing to look at him.

“Uh… nowhere?” Axis replied. “Hadn’t given it much thought but a place this big is bound to have room for a stowaway or two.”

“Tiana will take you to the room I keep for your sister then,” Charlie said stiffly and still looking away. “It’s what she’d want and expect out of me.”

“I hope that’s not sympathy I detect, Charlie,” Axis chuckled as he left the room. “You wouldn’t be nearly as unlikeable that way.”