“It is a pity that we are meeting in the Court of Hallows,” said the blue-haired woman. “Lamentable is the opportunity foregone, but we are comrades in this great war ravaging the South. Should time permit, I shall go over to express my gratitude for your heroics.”

“There’s no need to,” said Gaius, who was puzzled at her very verbose speech. “Might I, uh, ask the reason behind your employment of such a speaking style?”

Something flickered across her face. “Pray tell, have we met before?”

“Twice. In the Conference of the Four, and during the subjugation of the Human God,” Gaius replied.

“This one understands. In truth, my august self prefers speaking in this manner, over the more post-modern speech society has an inclination to nowadays,” said Queen Hyperion. “Know that I mean nothing malicious by reverting to my own style thence; tis something I slip into whenever I am at ease.”

“Um, okay.” Gaius nudged Isabelle’s knee with her own.

“Your Majesty,” said Isabelle, “to be in your presence and to take up your time is an honour for us. Such is your magnanimous rule that we dare not dally; your subjects are many and loving.”

Queen Hyperion nodded, although for the life of Gaius, he couldn’t tell what exactly she had interpreted from that equally verbose sentence Isabelle had just narrated.

“So it is. Let me enlighten you hence; We hope that the Lost Star and his beloved be registered as a member of my august nation, in the hope that we can better our coordination for the sake of the world. Only by bettering our ties can we…”

As Gaius listened to Queen Hyperion drone on and on, he inwardly reflected that her public persona — the royal, aloof modern style of governance he’d seen in the North, South, and the East — really didn’t do her justice. In fact, none of the great gods spoke in a verbose a manner as she did; perhaps only the Chanter of Innocents did that, but even then, Weiwu just used an older style of English.

After a while, Queen Hyperion ended her short speech. Gaius, who was staring at her blankly, felt Isabelle nudge his ribs.

“Hey?”

“What?” Gaius whispered back.

“Do you understand what she wants?” Isabelle replied. “Or do you need me to translate?”

“More like summarise, but she at least stuffed the main point in the first sentence, right?” Gaius asked. “Is there anything of importance after that?”

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“No, not really.”

“Do me a favour, and tell her that I do not intend to take her up on her offer,” said Gaius.

“Okay.” Isabelle cleared her throat. “Your Majesty, my beloved has received multiple such offers. He is currently in the midst of pondering such issues, but prevailing circumstances have predisposed him to aligning himself to neutrality. It is in his best interest to ensure that all nations do their utmost in providing manpower or resources; he does not want the war to be a protracted one.”

Somehow, Isabelle’s verbose reply was pleasant to his ears. It was probably because he was used to her lovely voice, and he wondered if he should get her to sing him a lullaby or something at night.

It would probably result in pleasant dreams.

“A regrettable outcome, but my offer will stand no matter what,” said Queen Hyperion. “Truth be told, my advisors, each skilled and masters in their own right, have deliberated upon the chances of recruiting you. Eyes are everywhere, and we know that you have toured the world. Yet, none dare say that you have joined them. Fret not, Lost Star. This outcome is both expected and not unwelcome.”

“In other words,” Isabelle whispered to Gaius, “she doesn’t mind.”

“It’s the same deal with the Republic then,” Gaius mused. “Works for me.”

“Mm.” Isabelle turned back to Queen Hyperion. “We thank you for your generous understanding and consideration for my beloved.”

“Think nothing of it. Time calls, and events are pressing. I must depart from here. May we see each other at the pivot of destiny. Be well, Lost Star, Isabelle Lorenze.”

The screen blurred once more, refocusing to show an empty Court of Hallows.

“Meeting’s over, then,” said Gaius, pulling out a bottle from the compartment Reinford had indicated some time ago. “My head hurts. Give it a rub, please!”

“Oh, you.”

As her gentle hands kneaded his scalp, he opened the bottle and took a little gulp from it.

“Thanks,” said Gaius. “Here. You must be tired from talking, though. That’s a lot of words…even my throat’s dry from listening to it.”

“It does take me back, though.” Isabelle had a wry smile on her face. “It’s quite similar to the Southern Assembly, all things considered. I remember attending one, and everyone was just weaving and bobbing around their main point.”

“Is it nostalgic?” Gaius asked. “Or more of a bad memory?”

“I wonder.”

Since there wasn’t anyone peeking, Gaius reached out and gave her a hug.

“What’s that for?” Isabelle asked.

“For earlier,” Gaius replied. “You were hurting earlier, and there was nothing I could do about it.”

“I’m alright now,” said Isabelle. “But thanks.”

“Right, I forgot. We hadn’t had the chance to really good care of that Aquitaine fellow, have we?” Gaius licked his lips. “Might as well take care of him when we return to the Southern Continent. Shouldn’t be too hard.”

“I was wondering when you’d bring that up,” said Isabelle. “But there’s no point. The Aquitaines were killed during the Republic’s liberation war. Their bones are scattered all over the continent, so I can’t even spit on their grave if I want to.”

The vitriol in her last sentence was heart-breaking to hear.