The spring rains fell without consideration for the works of man. The road under the hooves of horses and boots of proletarian turned into a deep brown sludge. The mud arrested the motion of all who tried to traverse it, regardless of status. It was in this way that a five year old Renner found herself stomping through the mud, holding the hand of her older sister Lulara. She was holding the hand of the bodyguard of the king, Knight MacNamara. The three of them daisy-chained together found themselves in the middle of an impromptu column of royalty and knights who had been deprived of their carriages, losing them to the quagmires of mud which the sky had so schemed to realize upon the surface of the earth.

Knight MacNamara offered his horse to the king, who had agreed yet rejected the same offer from Knight Galdra for the sake of his daughters. They would rather play in the mud anyway, a rare joy for a pair of princesses whose cleanliness was the object of several members of the palace staff. Their laughter was a salve for the soul, and Ramposa smiled at the sound of his daughters’ joy.

They were returning to the palace from a strategy council on the turmoil in Baharuth, and the troubling internal consolidations won by the Bloody Emperor. War was an imminent specter, and he could not empty his mind of the imminent threat against his people. Renner and Lulara had been made to attend, with the ability to silently sit and look pretty being considered a core part of their educations as princesses. Vena was absent, currently in attendance at a banquet that was part of a courtship proceeding. She was to be married by the end of spring, and so had mostly disappeared from being a functional member of the Vaiself family into that roiling morass of noble cross-cousin marriages and political power plays. Ramposa sighed, and silently thanked the Gods above for his daughters.

Oh? Who’s that?

Renner had noticed a boy laying in the gutter to her left. Huddled in a blanket, his face was covered, with only his blond hair peeking out into the rain. Renner stopped, and when Lulara tugged on her hand to continue moving, Renner let her fingers delace. Renner walked towards the boy. As the royal guard surrounding her had tuned out the noises of her and her sister, they did not immediately notice her departure from the hastily organized convoy.

Who is he? He looks so cold.

He was shivering, badly. His feet, bare and ghostly white, poked through the blanket. As Renner got closer, she realized it was more of a rag, tattered and soaked through that it did nothing but robbed his ability to retain heat. It was the early spring, and what rain which did fall was but a breadth away from the snows of a week prior.

He’s going to die.

Renner did not have the luxury of a normal childhood, and through exposure to the business of the kingdom, had learned the material realities of death and intrigue. Looking at the boy, she knew he wouldn’t last the day.

What’s going to happen if I help him? Will he like me? Will he want to be friends? Will he obey me?

Knight MacNamara finally looked back to the girl attached to his dexter hand, and upon noticing Renner's absence, felt as if the ground fell out from under him. An involuntary shout at the discovery led to a commotion, horses reeling and panicked exclamations. Within a few seconds, Renner was spotted, and an ashamed MacNamara ran over to grab her. Renner knew she had to make a decision, so she kneeled down, pulled back the blanket, and peered into his iridescent blue eyes.

—

[40th Year of Foresai, Middle Wind Month, Day 29]

She was looking into those same eyes, ten years later. They were red.

I need to build us a future. I need to have you by my side for the rest of my life. I don’t know how. You have no past, no blood; unless the wars with Baharuth escalate there's no chance of you earning any. I can’t marry you. I’ll have to keep you as a concubine, or as a bodyguard, but how do I get anyone to agree to that? I need bargaining power over them, but that's difficult to acquire as a woman. I have no ability to bear land or titles, nor to win them, all I have to offer is my blood and that can’t be used to buy permission to have a servant like Climb. I could offer my intellect, work as their strategist, but the nobility see me as nothing but a simple princess who proposes empty-headed policy shifts.

Renner felt herself sink. She had no clue how to hold onto Climb. It saddened her, the seeds of her fear began to take root in her soul. She was going to lose him. One day Barbro would come back with a new offer, or some other noble would entrap her in some web of schemes. She would lose herself in the flotsam of history, the unremarkable third daughter of a third king who did nothing but get married off, bore her husband children, and slipped into obscurity; only written about in the oblique genealogical records kept in the archives. She would not have her Climb.

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Actually, Zanac suspects my true nature.

Renner bid the maid to retrieve a glass of water, and took her seat again. She began to brood.

I need leverage over him; I need to offer him something, or perhaps threaten him. His desires are clear, Zanac wants the throne. Perhaps I could guide him there. His ascension is simply a matter of getting Barbro out of the way and waiting. It could be done in a myriad of ways, Barbro has practically done all the work already. If Zanac were to let me guide him to that position, the question of my future would be assured. The problem lies in showing him I can be trusted. How do I do that?

She looked at Climb again, and at the sword borne at his side.

It would need to be some bombastic action, putting a threat to the kingdom to rest. Thwarting whatever machinations the Slane Theocracy intends in Tob is one possibility, but there are too many uncertainties. I could run counter to the Black Scripture; and that would be an untenable possibility. Besides, I don’t think anyone knows of their intrusion besides me and Gazef, so fixing it would bring little recognition from Zanac. As a whole, all foriegn entanglements should be struck from the list. Too little ability for me to influence events meaningfully. That leaves domestic threats alone. In any case those are the only ones I can reliably hire the Blue Roses for.

Her eyes crept up from his sword to his chest, his breathing having slowed back into its normal pace. A double revelation hit her.

Ahh yes the armor I meant to commission for him, I’ll speak of that with Lakyus next time I see her. As far as threats to the nation, there aren’t many options. The very existence of that necromancer cult Zurrernorn is in doubt, and I have no reliable information as to their activities. If they still exist, they may have already left the confines of Re-Estize. The rebels in Re-Uroval have been crushed into the dirt, and I’m sure Lakyus would argue that it's a matter of country, not the business for adventurers. Thus the only issue that really makes sense to fight is Eight Fingers, but that has its problems too.

Eight Fingers was the dominant crime organization of the Re-Estize. Indeed, in some ways it was part of the Kingdom itself; a branch of its government in all but name. Gambling, narcotics, smuggling, prostitution, wetwork, and slavery all found themselves nestled at home under its overbosses and division heads. Through networks of blind-eyes, bribery, and blackmail, its touch could be felt in every aspect of Kingdom life. Many nobles spoke out publicly against it, vowing to their people that they would fight tirelessly to end it, yet at the same time becoming liegemen to the syndicate through the simple receiving of coin.

Renner hesitated, not because she feared the wrath of such an organization, but because she knew its necessity. She, after all, had already earned its ire when she banned slavery. Even if she were to lay further plots against it, she would not be immediately identified as the puppet mistress behind their suffering. No matter how powerful they were, to assassinate a princess was beyond question. No, Renner feared a Kingdom without Eight Fingers. It was commonly called a cancer to Re-Estize, but to call it a cancer would imply that the Kingdom could function without it. In truth, it was a vital organ. Society needed some level of dark joy to function; gambling houses, brothels, and Laira-dens rivaled the coliseums of the Empire in their value as entertainment.

Still, that does not mean that I could not deal them a significant blow. The divisions I ought to target are narcotics and slavery. There has always been a malignancy of Laira-addled people becoming shells of themselves, but the more recent alchemically concentrated forms are something else entirely. Eliminating the production of Black Dust would help the stability of Re-Estize in the long run. It would also be nice to deal slavery a killing blow, but I doubt that possible. Perhaps simply mortally wound it. Any evidence turned up in raids would be doubly-damming, and it would be far better leverage on a noble than their gambling debts.

Renner stepped back into herself, her senses slowly fading in. In the time she was lost in her reverie, Lucilia had come back with some water for Climb, and he had chugged down the glass in one go. Looking at Climb, she smiled. She began to feel like she was back in control again.

“Climb, I was going to say something earlier before my brother cut me off. I'm going to have a suit of mithril armor commissioned for you.”

“Y-you are?”

“Yes. I’m going to speak with Laykus about it, she and the Blue Roses will help. If you could please provide your measurements, I would appreciate it greatly. Climb, can I be honest?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“I’m afraid for the future of the Kingdom. With how old my father is getting, he may not be able to stay king for much longer. I also worry that my brother won't be able to keep the Royals intact. He struggles to stay popular, and he makes an easy target for the Noble Faction. I don’t know how he’ll fare against the Empire, or against that eightfold syndicate. I’m scared Climb. In that turmoil, I could come under threat, and I’ll need you to protect me.”

Lucilia, how raptly you must be listening. Please spread my words far and wide.

While Renner was still building out the full depths of her plot, she could still begin to lay groundwork. Although the Crown Prince had heartily embarrassed himself, for the Third Princess to then express doubt to her close associate in private would elevate a simple bit of clownery into an appetizing narrative for any noble.

Barbro, I really must thank you. You’ve created such an opportunity for me, cleared my thoughts.

A cruel smile formed on her inner face. Renner looked back to her Climb.

If only I could keep him away from the arenas of politics. Locked away maybe.