"I suspect they'll go through you in the future since dealing with me directly was a pain for them."

The fountain in their little courtyard splashed in the background while Anisca leafed through the images, fascinated. Taylor would miss this space when he didn't live in the Pasha's quarters anymore. It had a tall tree that spread its branches high above them, and the four walls had landscapes of far-away places painted on them, like windows into far countries. It was the perfect meeting place for two or three people. Some past resident had loved it and kept it pristine.

"Why are you showing these to me now?"

"So you're not surprised when these Keepers approach you. I gave them what I thought they needed to know freely, but then they started making demands and I … didn't react well. I had other questions for them, but they're not a very sharing bunch."

"I'm sure they're not pleased with you, but I think you handled it well enough. What I meant was, why didn't you show me these pictures before now? You've had them for weeks."

"It wasn't a trust issue. I don't want to divert us from winning this war, and none of this is helpful right now. Victory means we can open the vessel and study it for years to come. Defeat means we're all dead and it won't matter."

Anisca stared longingly at the images. "Are you sure there aren't any weapons?" She was looking for an excuse to open the facility.

"Not that we can use. There is a weapons locker, here." Taylor pulled one image forward. It showed a square cabinet mounted on a wall, covered with Mi'iri ideograms in red paint. "But it's too small to hold anything but personal protection weapons, and they'll be locked so only certain people can use them. Even if we could get them to work, we can't reproduce the ammunition.

"The whole facility is like that: intriguing but useless. I'm hoping the logs will fill in some gaps in Tenobre's history and give us a sense of when people arrived here. But I'm the only person who reads Mi'iri."

"Then you'd better not die," she demanded. "In fact, I forbid you from dying until you've written your Mi'iri dictionary."

Taylor sipped his jota and grinned. "Not a shred of concern for me personally!"

"I have priorities." She paged through the images again while she drank, eagerly taking in the scant details left by a poor artist. She yearned to see the inside of the vessel for herself. It was a rare unguarded moment, from a woman who chose her every expression with deliberation.

"How did it all go so wrong?" she wondered. "We had all this, and forgot about it."

"My homeworld followed the same pattern. Our oldest cities were built near the ancient habitats, and it appears we used them as shelters from time to time but, eventually, the habitats died. We couldn't maintain the Mi'iri technology, so we were on our own. I think they do it on purpose. The colonists are meant to find their own way and adapt to the planet."

"Why? It seems like such a waste to spend all those resources, only to drop people into a place that might kill them. Why not make sure they can survive indefinitely?"

"People in my homeworld have been asking that question for centuries."

Reluctantly, Anisca tucked them away in the large envelope. "What are you doing about Frenzio's problem?"

"Well, he's never been a friend. But Nexus can't stand aside and let thousands of people suffer."

"We can't fail our core purpose," she agreed, "but making contact with the rebel duke won't be easy, and he'll assume you're hostile."

"We're not going to make contact with him. And we're not going to send a cadre to help him, either. Enclave is going to send a healer who knows a special technique for treating this new disease, and teach it to the healers in Moldonia. We'll use one of the Gallian healers, someone who also has a good handle on basic enhancements so they can protect themselves. I don't like giving Enclave an opening to take credit for our work, but the tenets come first."

Anisca handed over the latest logistics report. "Supplies are in good shape and your desert bunkers are nearly complete. Dagono just delivered double their allotment, again."

"Are you satisfied yet, or should we try to get more from them?"

"I think the lesson has sunk in for everyone. I've made arrangements for Red Tower to gather with Dagono tonight. It would be helpful if you could walk out with a Dagono girl."

"Honestly, I'm feeling dispirited about this random kissing business. Half the girls get hysterical and run away. Sometimes in tears! I've tried to improve everything I can think of: how I talk to them, put them at ease, I don't grab but I'm not too shy, I go unarmed so they'll feel safe, compliment them without being weird or creepy (I hope), but nothing works. If anything, it's worse now than when I started. What am I doing wrong?"

"Have you asked Mila or Alice this question?"

"They claim I'm doing fine, but that's an obvious fabrication. If I was doing 'fine', they wouldn't run away in droves. I need you to tell me the truth: what am I doing wrong? I know the girls all compare notes. You must have heard something."

"You are doing fine. Don't worry about it."

"Anisca, please!" The moment that plea left his lips, Taylor wished he could take it back. He shouldn't need to beg anyone for anything, least of all a princess. "You know what? Nevermind. Forget I asked. I'll have to figure it out on my own." Taylor had his own written agenda and hurriedly found the next item.

"It's not you or anything you've done. Not exactly." Anisca was wearing an expression Taylor hadn't seen before. Was that affection? Indulgence? Compassion? Was she laughing? "You're famous, powerful, and not bad-looking."

"Thanks, I guess."

"Girls at this age are prone to certain disturbances. They build up a picture of someone in their heads, it gets wrapped up with a lot of fantasy and emotions, and it all boils over when they're faced with the real thing. The syndrome presents itself in any number of unseemly ways. They can't help it. They're just overwhelmed."

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

"That's what this is?" Taylor hadn't even considered they were fangirling over him. Tenobre didn't have mass media or mega-stars, but he'd seen similar behavior in Girona a few times, usually with a noble's son or a good-looking knight as the focus. If this was just fangirl panic, all he had to do was be nice to the afflicted and wait it out. Most of the girls would grow out of it, eventually. "That's such a relief! But why wouldn't anyone tell me?"

"We debated it, but we didn't want it to go to your head. Boys who get too full of themselves make bad choices. We were attempting to protect your last few shreds of humility. It was for your own good."

"Right. It in no way had anything to do with enjoying my struggle."

"It made you strive to improve, didn't it?" She was overtly smug. "That's the important part."

"Did you ever have someone like that?"

"Certainly not." She rebuked him with a glare. "I would never be so disturbed, about anything. Princesses are not susceptible to shallow infatuations."

"Amazing. Your delivery was superb, but three denials in a row … and two of them categorical. You definitely swooned over someone. Now I have to know: Who stirred up little Princess Frannie's fancy?"

Anisca generously blushed. "That is not on the agenda."

"I just put it on the agenda. Do you need me to write it down? You're always telling me that socializing is an exchange like any other. You know all about my little kissing challenges — it's time to reciprocate."

"Fine. Helene of Mialta, a swordwoman. Father hosted an international competition, and she was phenomenal. I saw one of her early pool bouts and got a tiny bit obsessed about her. I had her followed so I knew where she was at all times, and I arranged to be in places she planned to visit so I could watch her."

"Did you ever talk to her?"

"It was a disaster. When I tried to introduce myself, I froze, mouth open like a dead fish. It was awful. My attendant had to introduce me and said I was a fan. Helene was very nice about it and didn't make fun of me at all, which is something I recommend for you!"

"You never said anything?"

"I blurted out, 'I want to be just like you!'" Anisca laughed at her younger self. "I even took lessons for a while, but I have whatever the opposite is of talent for the sword."

"Did you run, after your declaration?"

"No. I walked, very briskly."

Taylor pretended to draw a line through the non-existent entry on his agenda.

"We need to talk about my source in Kashmar," she said unexpectedly. "They've made contact with factions in the palace, but want to know your priorities. They say they're at a crossroads and need direction if possible."

By 'they' Taylor assumed Anisca meant 'she', as in one of her mother's ladies-in-waiting. Taylor felt like he had a good grasp of Kashmar's capabilities. It was hard to hide an army while it mustered for a campaign. What he lacked was information of a more personal sort, exactly the kind a lady-in-waiting could extract. "Our highest priority is the new Princeps, Zaid. What kind of person is he, how was he educated, what's he like?"

"You don't want them to focus on battle plans?"

"Any plans they have will be ruined from the outset, I've seen to that. I need to know about Zaid. Most of these campaigns are for show. They raid one or two gardens, carry away some women and some goods, and hold a parade. This one is supposed to be more determined, but I need to know how seriously he's taking it. Will he turn around when the cost is too high, or will he spend every life in his command to achieve victory? How capable is he? Will he massacre captured civilians or treat them as his subjects? Or is there even a difference, to him? If I can have anything I want, then I want to know this man."

"I'll pass it on. That's my last item for today."

Taylor had one more of his own. "We need to talk about where you'll be during the war. The day is coming when I can't guarantee your safety anymore. They could send more assassins to kill off leadership or assault the city with a separate detachment. There could be fighting here. You could be captured or killed. If you want, we can send you to Red Tower or home to Lavradio. I'd rather not have to explain to King Leonardo how I lost his sister."

"What do I get, if I stay?"

Taylor blinked, several times. "Get?"

"I'm aware of the dangers of staying, so now is the time to promise rewards. You do want me to stay, don't you? Your encouragement to leave wasn't even half-hearted."

Taylor did want her to stay. Her work in the Greenhouse was beyond impressive: her discoveries about plant monstrification were unexpected and useful. And, he never imagined being able to fight this war without having to scrape by on minimal supplies. Somehow, she was able to get everything he needed from the gardens. Her lunches were interesting. She rarely complained without offering an alternative. She was a useful guide around complex social problems. Most importantly, he needed his link to the doyennes intact while he was fighting in the field.

Their working relationship wasn't comfortable, but it was highly effective. She wasn't asking for money. If that's what she wanted, she could return home. She wanted a place that would serve her needs. She needed purpose.

Pasha was a temporary position, so she couldn't be the doyenne of doyennes much longer. Even her days as the doyenne of Red Tower were numbered, as the next hierarch would want to choose their own. That gave her a maximum of ten years of influence.

But Anisca hadn't come with him to play Calique doyenne; She came to do research. Even now, she'd rather be monitoring plants at Red Tower than trading favors for supplies in Sand Castle. She felt the same about her Greenhouse as Taylor did about his Black Sanctuary. If either of them got a day off, research was their favorite way to spend it.

Talal had observed that talent and ambition required useful direction. Game of Prelates highlighted what happened when the ambitious had nowhere to go.

Taylor needed long-term help in a critical area. The position required social and organizational skills, established research ability, and a broad view of the sciences. Anisca was the only person he knew who was fit for the job.

"After the war, I'm going to be very busy as Hierarch. I won't have time to run The Nature Society properly, which is ironic given its importance to the future. We need to grow it into an international organization with chapters in every country. Between the church, my funding sources, and Nature Society patents in different countries, there will be a lot more money than we need for meetings and a newsletter. I plan to set aside a significant budget for research grants so people with good ideas but no money can get funding. However, someone has to review the proposals and check the results. They will need to build up a staff of capable people to help with that. There's a lot of work to be done.

"The Nature Society is the foundation of future technological advancement, so the Chair and Vice-Chair will have tremendous influence." Taylor waved away the future with a casual hand, "but it might be too much of a step down from Second Princess to Wise Anisca to Vice-Chair Francisca. What would your mother say?"

"Do you mean it? I can allocate research funds?"

"There has to be a committee, and you can't self-deal, but you can be in charge of it."

"And I get to see everything? All the submitted papers?"

"Everything."

"And I'll have a real budget for a staff?"

"Of course. It should grow handsomely over time."

"And," her eyes flicked back and forth as she thought about her other desires, "I'll get the first copy of your Mi'iri dictionary?"

"It'll have to be written in stages, but you'll always have it first. I'll even let you be the one who delivers the Keepers' copy to them, so they owe you." Taylor knew details like that were important to her.

"And you'll start working on the dictionary as soon as the war is over."

Taylor laughed at her greed for knowledge. "Only the three hundred most common symbols and a basic grammar guide. I can't commit to more than that right away, but it's enough to read signage and a lot of old text. We'll have to compile the other few thousand symbols as we need them."

"Very well. In exchange for a vice-chairmanship of The Nature Society with budgetary and research discretion and full access to any Mi'iri language translation materials, I will stay in Sand Castle as your doyenne, at the risk of death or capture."

They rose to their feet and shook hands on the deal.