"They're planning something," said Matron Darniss. "Something big."

They were in their usual box in the opera house. Mandeville was wearing a bright red cape over a yellow jumpsuit and had replaced his pink face powder with powder that was a bright, shining white. The result was that everyone in neighbouring boxes and in the stalls below were staring at them. The attention made Darniss feel rather nervous, but she understood the reason for it. She was being watched. Every member of the palace staff was being watched by agents of the Helberion intelligence services searching for the Carrow agent. She could see the man now, in the box three places to her left, from which he could see her and the stage by barely turning his head. He had to be wondering whether the man with her was connected with the Carrow spy agencies, but by dressing so extravagantly Mandeville was making himself look less suspicious. Surely, a spy would try to blend in, wouldn't he? Dress much the same as all the other patrons of the opera house? They watched him nonetheless, but without much suspicion.

"Yes, we got the letters you left for us. All the meetings of the War Council. I'm not sure there's much to worry about, though. They know war is coming. They're planning how they're going to resist the inevitable invasion."

Darniss looked doubtful, though, and shook her head. "There's an atmosphere in the palace,' she said. "Everyone's tense, wound up tight as a watch spring. It's coming from the King himself and his ministers, transmitting itself to everyone around them. I feel it myself. A feeling, as if everyone's holding their breath..."

Mandeville stared at her as she searched for the right words, but she'd never been good at expressing subtle concepts, at communicating the finer nuances of meaning. She shook her head in frustration. "The closest I can... I walked out with Minister Kier's undersecretary once. I thought he might be a good source of information. He was a heavy gambler, you see. I thought that he might get into debt, that we might be able to use that."

Mandeville nodded, signifying that he remembered.

"He wasn't, in the end. He knew nothing that would have been worth the risk and the effort, but that's not important. He took me to a gambling den once. He liked the wheel most of all. I watched him losing one spin after another, and then he got frustrated and put all the money he had left on one last spin. Over a thousand crowns. I remember him watching as the wheel turned and turned, as the ball bounced its way from one slot to the next, close to the one he'd put his money on, then away from it. I remember how tense he was. How he stared at the wheel, fixed all his attention on it. His whole body was shaking, quivering with nervous energy." She turned to stare at Mandeville. "That's how the King is at the moment. Just the same. As if he's put everything on some great gamble. The biggest gamble of his life."

Mandeville looked thoughtful as he considered her words. "Were you able to get any idea what sort of thing it might be?"

She shook her head. "Nothing definite. I've tried to find out what they're talking about in their war councils..."

"Don't take any risks!" he warned her though. "We can't afford to lose you."

She nodded. "Do you think there's any chance that they might be planning to attack us?"

"That would be suicide. The slightest provocative move would give us the excuse we need to invade them, without having to worry about reprisals from the Empire."

"But if they know they're going to lose the Empire's protection anyway, sooner or later..."

Mandeville sat there in silence for a long while before speaking again. "The bulk of Helberion's army us camped along the border with Carrow," he said, "but that means nothing. They'd need to be there whether they were attacking or defending. Most of Carrow's army is camped in four large garrison cities, though. They have to be. They can't deploy along the border without betraying their intentions to the Empire. That makes them potentially vulnerable, but Helberion simply doesn't have the military force to attack all four simultaneously, which they would have to do."

He thought for a moment longer."I'll pass on your concerns to Lord Krell," he said finally. "He's already put our forces on alert, on the basis of your previous warnings. I'll try to persuade them to put them on full alert, just to be safe. I really don't think there's any chance they're going to try something, though, unless they've decided to go out in a blaze of glory. From what I know of the King, though, he's not the type to just throw away lives uselessly."

"Maybe he doesn't think it would be uselessly," suggested Darniss. "Maybe he thinks they've got a chance."

"What chance? I'll pass on your concerns, though. There's no point in having someone in the palace if you don't listen to her." She nodded gratefully.

"Very soon now," he told her. "A few weeks at most and you will be mistress of the palace, not a servant in it. I look forward to the day when you can host a visit from myself and my wife."

"I look forward to it," replied Darniss. "Oh, there was one other thing. The Brigadier apparently ran into some trouble on his way to find a cure for the Princess. Two of his men returned to Marboll with a third who'd been cursed half way back to his animal form. Apparently they ran into a demon while taking a shortcut through Radiant territory. This happened some time ago, but news only just got back to the palace."

"Doesn't matter," replied Mandeville. "The Princess will be executed, along with her parents and siblings. Makes no difference to us whether she's human or half demon when it happens. Her condition is distracting the King, and it got the Brigadier out of Helberion for a few weeks, but other than that it doesn't matter. The Brigadier and the rest of his men are probably dead now, in any case."

"She contingency plan you mentioned."

"Yes." He looked down at the performers on the stage. "They are rather good," he said. "I think we might hire them to perform for our victory celebrations."

☆☆☆

King Leothan stood at the courtyard balcony, looking down at his daughter below. The Princess rarely spoke any more, and when she did it was with difficulty as her vocal chords changed, becoming less human. The glow of her skin had intensified, which was a blessing as it helped to obscure the growing changes to her body. The swelling of her head. The reduced facial features. The strange alterations to her limbs. Worst of all, the strange asymmetry to the changes, testifying to what she would eventually become. Not a Radiant, with a place waiting for her in another civilisation where she would be welcomed and made to feel at home, but a demon. Reviled and feared everywhere.

The King's hands whitened as they clutched the wooden railing, and the maid who was talking to her, keeping her company, looked up anxiously. He forced himself to smile down at her, to put her at ease, and the maid smiled nervously back before returning her attention to the stricken princess. She had been trying to play the lyre, something she had once done with considerable skill, but now it was sitting abandoned by her side. Her fingers were no longer able to pluck the strings correctly. The activity she had once found so soothing was now one more reminder of what was happening to her. The King's heart swelled with sorrow and pride at the way she sat erect, calm and composed. Still totally in control of her emotions. She must have been in turmoil inside, terrified and confused, but on the outside she was still every inch a Princess despite the awful transformation that continued to rob her of her grace and beauty.

Balhern entered the room, nodded politely to Darnell who was standing discretely by the door, and went over to stand beside the King. "Your pardon, Majesty, but a messenger has arrived from Fastyke. The War Council is gathering to hear his report."

The King nodded distractedly. "Look at her, Balhern. Look at what's happening to her. What did she ever do to deserve this?"

"They will pay, your Majesty."

"Yes, they will. She deserves so much more. She will be Queen one day. No-one was ever better suited or qualified to rule a kingdom. Even so young, she already possesses a wisdom superior to that possessed by most other monarchs. She will still inherit this Kingdom, Balhern. I swear it. We will find a cure for her condition, and she will inherit the peaceful, prosperous kingdom she deserves."

"The whole Kingdom still has faith that the Brigadier will return, Majesty, and that we will have the cure."

"It's been so long since he left. I'd hoped to hear something by now."

"The Uttermost Range is a long way from here, Majesty, and when he gets there he has to search a whole kingdom for the man he wants, but if any man can do it, he can."

"Yes you're right. We must still have hope." He looked back down at the Princess, then turned. He couldn't spend all day agonising over his daughter. His kingdom needed him. "Let's see what our messenger has to report."

The entire War Council was waiting for him when he arrived. The messenger, still wearing his dusty, travelstained uniform, was standing beside the map on the far wall. He bowed low, along with the others, when the King entered the room, and remained that way until the King reached his seat at the head of the table. Leothan gestured with his hand, and the members of the War Council took their seats, leaving only the messenger standing.

"You have a report," stated the King flatly.

"Yes, Your Majesty. General Gommery sends word that the combined army stands ready to attack Fastyke. If everything is going according to plan, the telegraph cables linking the Callow garrison cities have been cut and the engineers are sending false test messages in both directions to prevent the enemy from becoming aware of it."

Everyone in the room could hear the exhaustion in his voice. The man had ridden hard all day and all the previous night to bring his report. The King had considered having a telegraph cable laid between the palace and their forward command post so that they could communicate instantly with the western battlefront, but his advisors had warned that Carrow spies couldn't help but learn of it and would be alerted that something was about to happen. Messengers on horseback were routine, though, and would attract no special attention.

"General Gommery says that he intends to launch his attack at dawn tomorrow. If you wish to reconsider this action, a messenger on horseback must be sent immediately if it is to reach him in time."

"Thank you," said Leothan. "Now go clean yourself up and get some rest." The messenger bowed again and left.

The King waited until the door had closed behind him. "Do we have any reason to reconsider this action?" he then asked, looking around the room. Nobody replied. He gave them a good few moments to speak up, then nodded. "We will allow the attack to proceed," he said. "That's it, then. The die is cast. It'll be two days before we know whether we've taken the first step towards saving our country, or committed national suicide. I think I speak for us all when I say that it's going to be a long two days."

Nervous heads nodded around the room. "So, now we officially declare war," said General Pavok.

"Yes. Darnell, please summon the Carrow Ambassador to the palace, and send telegraph messages to all our ambassadors around the world, telling them to inform the heads of state of the countries in which they're stationed."

"Carrow will, of course, put all their armed forces on high alert," said Minister Lanier. "If news of our declaration of war reaches their garrison cities before our armies can attack them..."

The King nodded. "Geography is our friend there. The garrison cities are much closer to Marboll than they are to Charnox. Carrow is a large kingdom, sparsely populated for the most part, while Helberion is smaller and more crowded. Besides, we have no choice. We have to issue a formal declaration of war or be denounced by every human nation. This is a risk we simply have to take."

"Then let's hope that it's not our civilised values that doom us," the chief of the defence staff said sourly. "That would be rather ironic, would it not?"

"The irony would be if we won the war while having sacrificed the very values that we stand for." He stood, and everyone around the table stood as well. "And now, if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting with the Carrow Ambassador that I'm going to enjoy rather a lot."