The atmosphere in The Convention is different now. The contrary feeling of conflict and political scheming is long gone, and in its place is a universal panic. No one was happy to hear that their biggest rival in governance is now an enemy of Avernia and the people... Which seems odd to me. To be so terrified about the misfortunes of the enemy. But even the most outspoken purple shirts are now in agreement with the people they had been screaming at only minutes earlier, even as their respective panics took on a slightly different form.

"This... This is too sudden! We haven't made preparations!"

"Avernia isn't ready to lose the monarchy yet!"

"How can we spin this? How can we keep the High King in play until we're ready?"

"How many of the Gendarmes will even listen to us?!"

"Alesia has already had enough upheavals, it's affecting business!"

“Half the countryside still pays their taxes to the Crown, we can’t take over the entire administration overnight!”

The ones in green are turning on their purple-clad contemporaries again, even this unifying shock can't keep The Convention together forever it turns out. The entire Convention is about to be a shouting match again... Or it would, had the old man not taken the stage next to me, tapping the ground with his walking stick.

The screaming politicians slowly take notice, stopping their shouting matches to listen to their founder speak, even as he struggles to stand and the words come out with obvious strain. "Gentlemen. We had always intended to supplant the monarchy. Either to sideline it and remove it as a political force, or to destroy it entirely. We always intended to be the sole government of Avernia. And a government has laws. Our current sovereign has committed a crime, he has broken the laws of our government, our Avernia. It is a moral imperative to arrest him, and to punish the crime as we would any other."

I grit my teeth. Any other crime would lead to sacrificing him to Steel. I certainly harbor a lot of righteous hatred for His Grace, but does anyone deserve to die like that?

The Convention starts talking amongst themselves again, although this time they are a little more restrained.

"We could put Charles on the throne, the boy hasn't done anything especially wrong in the public eye.”

"The boy hasn't done anything in the public eye."

"All the better, squeaky clean face to the monarchy."

"Are you insane?! We can’t put a child on the throne, our enemies will see weakness!"

"Well what do you suggest?! If the High King survives this he will turn his full attention against us!"

"We need to make absolutely sure then that if we act against the King, we get him right."

"We can’t replace him, and yet he can't be allowed to make it out of his sacrifice intact..."

"… Or maybe he can... I think I have a solution. Now we just have to arrest him."

"Who do we have who can do that quickly?"

... They're mostly talking about Charles and His Grace. There’s not a word about Her Majesty, or Princess Theophania. I feel a cold sweat, I can't entrust the safety of my Princess or my Goddess to whatever political opportunist The Convention assigns to this duty. Dear gods, they might leave the arrest to Malmo of all people!

I step forward and raise my remaining obedient arm. "I shall perform the arrest! I'll gather what gendarmes I can and head for the Palace. I'll bring you the High King... And I'll avoid a bloodbath if I can help it."

This stuns The Convention into silence, the wounded woman on stage offering to do their job for them... But that silence is short-lived, and soon the arguing begins again. About my motives, about my loyalty to The Convention, about my qualifications, about my media profile. I don't care to listen to it anymore, I step off the dais and prepare to get to work. Those two gendarmes who delivered the news are still standing around, rather listless and confused, waiting for anyone to actually give them some orders. And I imagine that at least their commander might recognize me.

He does in fact, and even gives a salute as I approach, albeit a scornful one. "General Pollineux... Do we have more heroics in our future?"

"I'm afraid so, commander. How many gendarmes do you have with you?"

"I rounded up about twenty outside. We could try gathering more, but most of the garrisons are still in shouting matches. Though by now those might've become shooting matches for all I know. Tensions were already high before the news came out. The Gendarmes may be technically under the authority of The Crown, but at this point The Convention’s the only thing that can afford to sign our checks, so it’s all a bit of a minefield."

"... We'll have to risk it. If the citizens are up in arms we'll need more than a handful of gendarmes to keep things from escalating."

"Mademoiselle, if I may object, the last time you 'risked it' half a dozen of my men were mutilated by Germans."

"I see... Then you may not, monsieur. We have an Alesia to save." ... And a Goddess to protect.

I'm surprised when the man still follows me out of the chamber, apparently having actual orders and leadership is more important to him than his fear of being a hero. At least having a place to start might make this entire project easier-

"Serena!" That’s Auguste's voice, and presumably his footsteps rushing up to greet me. "Serena, you're still injured, you can't be doing this again!"

I turn, trying to give my most reassuring smile and suppress the knowledge that he has a very fair point. "I have to do this, Auguste. You and Celeste won't have an Avernia to save if I can't keep it alive."

"Serena, if you're hurt again... If you're killed out there, I don't know if Celeste would be able to recover from it. I don't know if I could stand to have you die for my ideals."

It stings, bringing Celeste into this... "Sometimes you just have to do what has to be done, Auguste. And besides, I absolutely owe you and Celeste for your kindness, for taking me in... For my indiscretions-"

"If I forgive you for fancying my wife will you please not get yourself killed?"

This raises an eyebrow from the Gendarme commander, and I am suddenly quite embarrassed. But it is at least vindicating to know that my disgusting feelings are also incredibly obvious, and thus I can be punished appropriately... But I can't let my punishment be leaving Her Majesty to the jackals, I can't let it be risking Princess Theophania's life and letting the city swallow people I swore an oath to.

I'll just have to make it up to him another time. "I'll earn your forgiveness some other way. No one else can do this, so I have to. There's nothing else to it."

Auguste takes this in... And relents, lowering his head in defeat. "... Fine. First step in either of us forgiving you is coming back alive, do you understand?"

"I swear it." And that makes five oaths I will one day have to break… "I promise I will come back alive."

"Okay... Go save the world again then. Turns out it really can't last even a day without you."

I step forward to give the man a hug with my working arm. A short one, I don't have all that much time to spare... But he seems to appreciate the gesture at least. He pats my back, and I withdraw, ready to face Alesia again. I'm not certain how the civilian streets of my homeland keep managing to be more dangerous than most battlefields I’ve been on, but these are simply the streets I am expected to protect. The ones Her Majesty found so beautiful from her place atop the hill…

I allow the commander to lead me to his men, and I allow them to lead me to the nearest Gendarmerie garrison. 'Shooting match' was the outcome there, but at least The Convention’s gendarmes had been the victors and the survivors were willing to join our little band. As scared as they are, they want the city to calm the heck down as quickly as I do, so they fall in line. The next garrison we find is still in the midst of deciding what they are planning to do. A bit of magic courage gives them their answer, and soon they’re all following us as well. I can't maintain my powers for long, not with my wounds, but by the time they’re part of the crowd they seem willing enough to follow it. I soon have an army of Gendarmes at my back, it’s enough to fill me with confidence... Confidence which dies the moment we reach the Palace.

Thousands, tens of thousands, possibly hundreds of thousands of civilians are surrounding the Royal Palace, blocking all the roads with their own bodies, chanting and screaming in discordant, chaotic choruses. The several hundred gendarmes I’ve managed to rally aren't going to be making a path through this. They’d barely make a dent before we were all trampled to death... These people are angry, all of them, the only thing that unifies this ocean of human beings is their shared demand.

"Bring us the High King! Bring us the High King! Bring us the High King!"

How ironic, the vast, chanting mass is the very thing keeping me from bringing them the High King... Maybe I can simply ask them to disperse.

"Citizens! I am General Serena Pollineux!" I try my best to be loud, and just about manage to get a few of the protesting citizens to hear me over their chanting, and to pay attention to me. "I have come to arrest the High King for treason! Please, allow me and my gendarmes to pass through."

The handful seem to consider my words, a shop clerk with slightly frayed clothing even seems to recognize my name. "... General Pollineux? Oh! I’ve heard that name! Someone at a coffee shop said he was a great general, fightin’ the Magyars to keep us safe!"

Or possibly not... But before I can correct the man, another civilian with a flower in her hair excitedly cheers at the news. "The conqueror of Samnia, he's a good Convention man! I hear he protected a bunch of folks in Triumph Square too! He must hate the High King as much as anyone! Let him through, let- ... Her through!"

The news starts to spread throughout the crowd, a 'General Pollineux' is here to fulfill the wishes of the people, to save them from their corrupt monarch in the name of The Convention... I'm not sure how I'm allowed to feel about this. My brother's name is saving all of Alesia, while my name doesn't appear to exist. Forget being in his shadow, I can only aspire to being separate from him...

It’s tragically ridiculous that the Queen is so scared of what the people might think of my standing in the press, seeing as the people literally can’t keep two General Pollineux’s distinct in their minds … Whatever the answer, the gendarmes behind me appreciate having the crowd open to allow their passage, and this is undeniably better than trying to carve our way through. Soon our little ‘sovereign arresting band’ has made it to the gates of the palace, where the Royal Guard stand at the ready, muskets trained on the crowd from behind the big iron gates. There are a few dozen of them, not enough to stop hundreds of gendarmes, but certainly enough to spook a crowd.

"Guards of the Royal Family!" Talking managed to get me to this gate, maybe talking can get me past it.

"The High King has been found undeniably guilty of treason against the people and state of Avernia. Surrender him to our justice and I promise the rest of the royal family will not be harmed!"

I can hear a few boos from behind me, clearly some in the mob won't be satisfied with anything less than the blood of the entire royal family... Which might be why the guards at the gate are so twitchy.

"I assure you that I will guarantee your safety as well! Things need not escalate, so long as His Grace-"

A volley of fire erupts from behind the gate, sending a few gendarmes to the ground, clutching wounds... History will probably remember this as a mistake for all involved, as members of the crowd behind us are hit too. The Royal Guard has just fired on the people of Avernia. And the people aren't about to take that lying down.

The crowd surges from behind us, rushing the gate and pushing it down with their sheer mass, before rushing the guards at the gate and savaging them... We are in the world of violence again, the people of Avernia have dragged us into it. And now the real world is very far away.

And I will have to act fast if I’m going to drag Her Majesty out of this violent place. "Men! We have to secure the palace before the mob does! Follow me!"

Some of the gendarmes are hesitant, others are attending to their injured comrades, trying to stop the mob from trampling them in their mad dash to storm the palace. But some stay behind me and follow as I run right into the center of the conflict. More guards try to pour in, try to take control of the gates again, but there are simply too many civilians for them to handle. Those guards too are overwhelmed and torn apart. A monster stalks the palace now, a headless monster that tears at whatever it can reach. And I will keep it away from Her Majesty.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

I am the only monster that shall behold Her Majesty.

I lead the men right into the Palace, finding the civilians ahead of us have utterly trashed the place. Stealing and defacing paintings, destroying fineries and set pieces, smashing flower pots, and kicking open doors... I remember where Her Majesty's chambers were... And the royal apartments are on the way. The mob has a head start, but I know where to go, and more to the point, I have the desire to protect my loved ones on my side! ... Which makes how utterly exhausted I already am very awkward. I take the stairs two at a time, the gendarmes behind me barely keeping up...

But I can feel my chest begin to hurt again, and I can feel my lungs scream in protest... Am I really in a state to save anyone?

I make my turn to the Royal Apartments, only to find the Gendarme’s commander tapping me on the shoulder, giving me a severe look. “This isn’t the way to the Throne Room, General Pollineux.”

I gasp for breath, struggling to answer his challenge, finding all the exhaustion hit me at once the moment I’d stopped moving. “The… The Princess is this way. The mob might hurt her!”

“We’re here to arrest the High King, Pollineux. The Princess is none of our concern. We’re not going to risk our lives on any unnecessary rescues!”

The gendarmes behind him nod in agreement, useless cowards. I consider throwing my power over them, forcing them again to act in the way a gendarme should.

But that might just hurt more than I can bear right now. “Fine then, go arrest the High King, I’ll do my heroics alone!”

The gendarme commander reaches out a hand to stop me, but I’m simply too quick. I will not be stopped by something as trivial as lacking an army, or the increasing number of bludgeoned guards I find on my path. I sprint as fast as my legs will carry me to Princess Theophania’s chambers… And just a little further still. The mob had found her room, and a handful of them cornered her, brandishing makeshift weapons. Whatever they have planned is punishable by death in my mind, so I rush forth, stabbing the tallest one right through from behind. He crumples to the floor, and the other two… Run. I almost want to chase them, to cut them down for daring to threaten my princess… These are the same people that Auguste is so eager to see get paid more, to see healed of their sicknesses and freed from the influence of the gods. These are his humans… And I want to kill them.

I let them go, turning my attention entirely to Princess Theophania. She seems unharmed, a little worse for wear but she remains oddly calm. My attention goes directly to her face, trying to find any sign of distress. Her eyes… They’re shining.

"Sir Serena! You saved me! Again!” She’s so excited in spite of everything, what the hell did I do to this poor woman? “I knew you would, I just knew you would! That’s why I wasn’t afraid, why I didn’t let those awful men see me cry! Because I knew I had a brave and noble knight to protect me!”

She quickly moves in to hold me, and she has a tighter grip than I could possibly have imagined. She at least makes sure not to squeeze my wounded arm, but given what just happened this feels wrong somehow… It almost reminds me of Lazierte, only a lot more plush and a lot more awkward. But equally as inescapable, and equally as desperate.

I need to get a move on. I need to save Her Majesty. “P… Princess-“

“Slaying monsters and rescuing princesses, you really are perfect, Sir Serena. Just, so perfect… So perfect…” I get the impression she’s trying to convince herself of something, and more than that she’s trying to convince me. “… I can be perfect too, a perfect princess. Would you stay, if I were a perfect princess?”

I feel warm, I want to die. She smells nice, I hate myself. I’m tempted to give her what she wants, I should throw myself out the window.

“Theophania… I have to go.”

She looks utterly dumbfounded, squeezing me even tighter and giving a quite frustrated noise. “You didn’t stay last time. You chose a violent, scary world over your princess! … What do I have to do?! What do you want from me?! What do I have to do to make you stay?!”

“Princess, your mother could die if I’m not there to protect her!”

“We have our guards-“

“Your guards are dead! Or dying! You saw those monsters, those freaks that would dare threaten you! I can’t allow that to happen to Her Majesty, I simply can’t!”

Theophania has no answer to that, but she still doesn’t let go. This wasn’t getting me anywhere, she can’t be intimidated out of holding me, out of wanting me to stay… She’s shaking now, she seems about to cry… It would be a sin to make a woman this beautiful cry.

“… I don’t not want to stay, my princess. If the world beyond these doors was nothing but the most beautiful comforts in the world, I would stay with you every time. I wouldn’t leave you for even the finest things.” A lie, my goddess would always come first… And I almost think I’m getting away with it. “Only a scary world that needs saving, one I have a duty to protect as a brave and noble knight, would keep me away from you.”

This makes her relent… And makes her start crying. I’m about to take the opportunity to slip away when she leans up and kisses me. She tries to force her tongue into my mouth. It’s utterly inept but oddly charming. I’m kissing Her Majesty’s daughter again… I’m kissing a pretty girl who loves me dearly, and I hate that this is wrong.

I let her tongue into my mouth, let her play around and explore. I’m being blasphemous. I feel like I might cry as well, but this poor girl needs it. Needs the good that my blasphemies can do… She eventually withdraws, and wipes her eyes on the sleeve of her torn dress.

“Next time you will stay. Promise me that next time you will stay.”

Another oath I don’t know if I can keep… I get on one knee and take her hand. “I promise. As a brave and noble knight, I swear that next time I will stay.”

This seems to make her a little giddy, even if she’s still a little weepy. “Hehe… And I promise I will be a perfect princess then.”

I shudder. That has to be a euphemism for something, something that will somehow make me a worse person than I already am. I rise to my feet, giving her a smile and preparing to leave, before remembering.

“Bar your door with whatever you can find. The mob is still out there, I want you to be safe. Only open it for me, understood? … I’ll tell you when everything is over.”

She nods, and I take my leave. That was harrowing twice over. Hopefully making sure Her Majesty is safe won’t be so… Religiously significant. I get to sprinting once again, if I had been even a moment slower in reaching Theophania then she might not have been in a place where I could’ve rescued her. I will not be too late to save Her Majesty either. I reach Her Majesty’s chambers, practically barrel down the door… And find six members of the mob milling about, presumably looking for a missing Queen.

“Oh! It's General Pollineux!" One of the civilians calls out to me with a smile, holding the blood-splattered leg of a broken dining chair as a weapon. "We tried to find that foreign whore, but she's nowhere to be found! It's like she's gone and disappeared."

... This man just insulted Her Majesty! He’s willing to pick a fight with my goddess! I put my hand on the pommel of my sword, I want to teach this ruffian, this disgusting ‘grown up’ a lesson!

But it is six against one, and I doubt these men would fold as easily as the last ones. Looking at the blood on their makeshift weapons, I can tell this wouldn’t be their first scrap.

I sigh, trying to regain my composure a little... This man has blasphemed against my goddess and threatened her safety, but regrettably today I can’t kill him for it. "Haaaah... I've also been looking for Her- for the Queen. I've yet to find her."

"Right?! Slippery bitch she is. I'm half tempted to try tearing down the walls, to see if she's not hiding in them like a rat."

"Not that she'd fit, right Pierre?!"

"Hehe, good one, Vernon!"

My mood goes from spontaneous to premeditated murder very quickly at their continued jeers against a woman I love and the goddess I worship... But something about their words brings me back down to Lutice. Tearing down the walls... Her Majesty is probably in her little secret room! Which means I absolutely need to keep the mob out of her chambers, so they don't accidentally stumble across her.

And I can't just kill all of them... But I am angry enough that I think I could tell a lie. "I think she might have fled. Once the High King is secured the gendarmes are going to go over this place to find evidence of where she ran away to."

It always feels wrong to lie. It certainly doesn't come naturally, and I have to wonder if I’m going to be caught in it. But the mob nods in agreement with my little tale. I don't know if they bought it exactly, but at least they are compliant.

"Ah! That... Makes sense… We'd better find her before she runs all the way back to the Empire, eh?"

"Yes... Indeed... And it will be easier to search if we can keep this room free of disturbance, so no clues are lost in the chaos. I'd like to ask you men to leave, so the gendarmes can do the work of tracking Her Majesty-"

"Her Majesty?" The one with the chair leg raises an eyebrow... I’ve messed up, if I can’t fix this then it’d have to be a fight.

"A term of derision, of course! Uhhh, because she's so... Full of herself?" It hurts to take Her Majesty's name in vain like this, even if it might save her life.

"Oh! Yeah, fuck 'Her Majesty!'"

I have started a chant, one that follows this part of the mob all the way out of the room... I feel like I've broken something today, something that can’t be fixed. Possibly multiple somethings. But Her Majesty is safe.

I stumble over to the entrance of her secret room, and suddenly I can’t keep standing any longer. I sit before the entrance and try to catch my breath, but being so close to Her Majesty, yet separate from her, seems to hinder my efforts to regain my composure.

“… I’m sorry I had to say those things, Your Majesty. I didn’t mean it, I just had to get those ruffians out of your room. I couldn’t fight all six of them, not with my wounds… I’ve failed you. I’m sorry.”

The wall is silent. She might not be able to hear me like this. Or maybe she simply doesn’t want to speak to me.

“I kept your daughter safe. She’ll be okay, even if I’m a little worried about her mental state… I have to go arrest your husband soon. That’ll put an end to this madness.”

I am faced once again with silence… It’s almost more than I can bear. Does she hate me now? For my blasphemies? For my failures? For my… Imaginings?

“… I never liked him, to be honest. You never seemed happy when you were in his presence, and I want you to be as happy as you can possibly be… I want a lot of things for you… I want a lot of things with you.”

Silence again. My eyes burn, my voice is beginning to waver…

“I want to take you to visit the beaches of Kerska. I want to cook meals with you. I want to go grocery shopping and dancing and go everywhere and anywhere in the world where we can be together. I want to dote upon you when you’re sick, I want to make you all better when you’re hurt. And I want to hold you and never let go.”

“Serena…” It spoke! The wall… Her Majesty spoke!

“Your Majesty!” I suddenly panic, I’ve been baring my heart before a wall and now I have no secrets from her.

“… The world needs you, Serena. You’d best not keep it waiting.”

There’s a melancholy behind that voice, behind that wall.

“I want to stay.”

“… But you can’t.”

She’s right… I can’t. I get to my feet, I wipe my tears away with the sleeve of my officer’s coat, and I give the wall a nod.

“Understood, your Majesty… I’ll bring an end to all this.”

I make my way out of the room, finding it difficult to cross the threshold of her chamber door. If I take one more step, I’ll be leaving Her Majesty behind, and once again entering the world of violence. Of ruffians and freaks, of Royal Guards firing on civilians, of cowardly gendarmes… All the things that keep Alesia from being beautiful… And yet, Auguste and Celeste’s philosophy cares more about these people than Alesia itself. Is it simply compassion? Are they simply more loving people than me? Maybe they’re smarter than me and all this has a purpose… I almost wish I could care so much, that I could love so much.

I want to kill any grown-up who dares threaten Her Majesty, or Princess Theophania, ever again.

As I wander through the halls, slower now that I’m not sprinting, I find it easier to see the utter carnage that has been wrought here. I’ve gone from sprinting over corpses without a second thought to gently stepping around them, the splashes of each step through spilled blood echoing in the now lifeless grand halls. Bodies of ruffians, bodies of guards, of gendarmes, even of servants and cleaners are littered anywhere the halls allow, their blood having splashed the white interior walls red. The world of violence has spared no one. It’s not a place where people can live. I have to hold my good hand over my mouth and nose as I make my way to the throne room, the smell is oppressive and threatens to make me vomit. It’s somehow worse than the trench I’d met Pasche in, at least that was in the open air.

I eventually find my way to the double doors to the throne room and find the assembled gendarmes hiding from the entrance. A bullet whizzing past my ear quickly explains why, and soon I take cover with them. There are a number of wounded gendarmes being attended to by their comrades, it’s apparent that they’ve already tried the entrance and not had much success. Except… There are still more than enough of them to storm the room. They’re just scared again, aren't they. Their cowardice is going to keep us here forever, in total limbo.

Among the wounded I find the gendarme commander, clutching his chest and struggling to breathe, but hardly struggling to look condescending. “Where… The hell… Were you?”

“… Doing heroics.”

“While we… Were doing your job… It was going fine… Till I caught a bullet. The boys pulled me back and from there… It was just a rout. They’re too scared to give it another go… So at least you’re here now.”

“… Just focus on breathing, commander. The sooner I end this, the sooner we can get you a priest of Cotton.” As annoying as he has been, and still is, I can’t help but feel sorry for him on the floor…

“Me… And everyone else.” He coughs, I think he’s trying to laugh.

I draw my sword, clearly I have work to do. After all, if I don’t do this, I might just be stuck in this hallway with this wounded man forever. I cast my spell over the able bodied gendarmes, and I give my order through clenched teeth.

“Storm the room. Fire at will, then charge. We will seize the High King.”

With smiles on their faces and bravery in their hearts, my gendarmes rush through the doors... And are shot to pieces. I try not to look at them, and keep the rationale in mind. I have more flesh to spend than the Royal Guard has steel, we are going to win. I painfully shamble through the doors behind the second wave of gendarmes, who fire back at the reloading guardsmen before charging. It is a slaughter. The handful of guards who aren’t immediately shot are quickly skewered to pieces by brave, vengeful gendarmes. Even when the last of them tries to surrender, none are spared… A monster, I am a monster again. Of course I am, I’ve skewered civilians to save Her Highness, I want the blood of anyone who would harm my loved ones. I had survived the world of violence, where no humans can live… But at least it is almost over.

I find His Grace seated on the throne of Avernia, flanked by the bodies of his last defenders. As I approach the throne I can see him shake, and as I raise my sword I can hear him whimper. This is the High King of Avernia.

This is no longer the High King of Avernia. "Your Grace, you are under arrest for high treason against the people of Avernia."