Knowledge was a strange evil.

Lady Kiku grew up knowing more than most. She saw people's hearts, their thoughts, the worlds that lived within them and colored their experiences in ways no one else should ever understand. Lady Kiku did, and in doing so, she lived a thousand lives that were not her own.

The war helped her draw lines she could not in her youth. The minds she infiltrated were those of enemy soldiers, of otherworldly beings, of monsters. Lady Kiku's skill grew steadily. Her discomfort with her Spark, the power that made her so different, eroded just as quickly.

Then the war ended, and victory turned rotten on the tongue.

"What do you think of the arrangements, Michiko?" Lord Barton asked.

Lady Kiku raised her head. She had been listening to the other Lords talk while her mind wandered, and had not lost the thread of the conversation despite her morose reminiscing. The ability to tread many mental paths at once was a necessary skill for someone often mired in the minds of others. Lady Kiku knew that Lord Barton spoke of the cremation ceremony currently underway in the Hall of Mourning.

She knew too that the man was being purposefully vague in order to test her attention, and did not at all appreciate the gesture.

"My vote remains on maintaining Radev's rank in death," she responded coolly. "He served the Kingdom faithfully, and deserves the honor of a proper burial."

They sat around a large table, in one of the grander rooms meant for gatherings of this sort. Lady Kiku had wondered at the choice of location – they rarely utilized the space when not entertaining guests of rank.

Then a woman pooled into being from a mirror hung above the head of the table, and she wondered no more.

Lord Greoff was slouched in his seat. He looked rather wan, and a little hung over – not a rare sight, especially in the last few years. "The boy's a traitor, and died a traitor's death. What right does he have to rest in the company of fallen heroes? We may as well piss all over Soldiers' Mount, it'd be just as proper," he snorted.

"Richard!" Lady Kiku snapped. She did not appreciate the man's coarse language. Moreover... Her eyes flickered to the woman in black, worried that the careless comment would be perceived as an insult.

Lord Greoff rolled his eyes. She will not know it if I strip naked and burst into a song, the man thought, loud and pointed so Lady Kiku knew to listen.

Please, do no such thing, Lady Kiku responded primly.

Lord Greoff's answering smile was brief. His expression quickly sunk back into sullen silence.

"Sabina?" Lord Barton prompted.

Lady Kiku turned her attention to Sabina MacLean. The table was large, prepared to host up to two dozen guests with room to spare. Lady MacLean had chosen the seat furthest from them all, directly opposite the woman in black. She had her chin propped against her hand, her face turned to the large windows that opened to the gardens.

"Do as you will," Lady MacLean said.

Lady Kiku lowered her head, so she would not meet Lord Barton's eyes. She heard the murmur of her friends' thoughts, rising and ebbing like a river. There was once a time Lady Kiku drowned in these voices. She had been young and inexperienced, her Spark newly-lit. A chance encounter with a kind, powerful stranger helped her learn how to tread the current of foreign thoughts and preserve her own mind against the onslaught. Lady Kiku had not known that her benefactor was the Queen of all of Samodevia at the time. She had pledged her allegiance to the Crown after she had learned the truth, and found a new family within the Amith Capil.

The need to steal into Sabina MacLean's mind like a thief left Lady Kiku deeply unsettled.

It was a necessary evil. This is what Lord Barton insisted, and Lady Kiku knew him to be right. Of course, this was only so because they had made it that way – the three of them, joining hands behind Lady MacLean's back, knowing that she would not approve of actions and dealings her comrades perceived as vital for the Kingdom's survival.

"The boy died under your hand. You care nothing for his final rites?" Lord Barton pressed.

"That boy was dead long before I came for him," Lady MacLean said.

"The sacred blade," Lord Barton began. He meant to ask after the boy's death, Lady Kiku knew – a gunshot to the heart was a mortal wound, but not to one held captive by a blade blessed by the Queen herself.

Lady MacLean let out a mirthless laugh. "Simon, you and I both know there was nothing sacred about that piece of crystal. The Queen has not blessed a blade since the war ended."

Lord Barton's eyes narrowed. The Queen was a forbidden topic, especially at present. Lady Kiku resolutely set her conscience aside. She reached for Lady MacLean's mind – and just as she did, the woman in black rose, scaring all into stillness.

"Where did she go?" the woman in black asked.

Lady Kiku flinched. The woman's voice carried a mental echo, heavy and demanding. It had not always been so – but then again, much was not as it once was.

"Whom does Her Excellency seek?" Lord Barton asked after a pause.

"Feray," the woman in black said. Her head turned beneath the heavy veil, scouring the room. "Where is she?"

The three lords looked at each other in concern. Feray was the Queen's given name. Lady MacLean was still watching the leaves turn in the garden. She did not appear to give the matter any mind; then again, she had been absent for the worst of the woman in black's tirades.

Lady Kiku rose from her own seat. "The Queen is resting," she offered gently. "Would Her Excellency like to visit her?"

The woman in black said nothing for some time. Lady Kiku's heart was in her throat, and she tried not to recall the last time a visit to the Queen was needed.

"There is no need to disturb her," the woman in black said at last. "If more blades are needed, bring them to me."

"Thank you, Your Excellency," Lady Kiku said.

The woman in black headed for the door, marking the meeting as complete. Lady Kiku was lightheaded with relief.

"Do take care of your health, Beatrice," Lady MacLean said.

The woman in black paused her steps. At last, she nodded her head, and departed through another ornate mirror.

Lady Kiku slumped into her seat like her legs had been cut at the knees.

"She could use a damn door for once," Lord Greoff grumbled. No one paid him any attention.

"Beatrice?" Lord Barton demanded.

He sounded truly angry, and with good reason. None dared to speak to the Queen's Shadow so flippantly. Not since the woman had returned to the capital and assumed the responsibilities the Queen could no longer manage.

"She is a person, Simon," Lord MacLean said. "A person with a name. We ought to use it once in a while, less we forget."

Lord Barton pressed his lips into a thin line, his displeasure obvious. "You are forgetting your place, and your duty to the Kingdom."

"All I did was greet the woman. It is not as if I lied to her, or played with her memories," Lady MacLean drawled. She turned her eyes to Lord Barton, a thin smile on her lips.

"Now that would be truly unforgivable."

Lord Barton's face lost its angry flush. The pronounced clench of his jaw relaxed; after a tense moment, the man even smiled, the laughter lines at the edge of his eyes crinkling.

"It is good to have you back, Sabina," he said.

Lady MacLean grunted noncommittally, and looked away.

Lord Greoff cleared his throat. "Next time, use my gift toward better purposes," the man groused.

"It is a gun, Richard. How else am I to use it?" Lady MacLean responded dryly.

Lady Kiku let out a quiet sigh. The situation was diffused, at least temporarily. She was not ready to confront Lady MacLean. Privately, she wondered if she ever would be.

"It was meant to be decorative! How many can boast owning a weapon forged by a Vampire Lord?" Lord Greoff exclaimed.

Lady MacLean's lips curled in disgust, likely in response to the word, decorative.

"Do not make that face! It worked well enough, did it not? The blade may have not been blessed by the Queen, but it would not have been easy to break. It carried a spell cast by that wi- by Beatrice," the man fumbled.

"Her last name is now Beaufort, I hear," Lady MacLean aided.

"Do not remind me. Of all the damn places she could have run to," Lord Greoff groaned.

Lady Kiku felt a tug at her consciousness, a kind of mental knocking she had taught all of the lords present. She let the conversation between Lord Greoff and Lady MacLean fade in the background.

"What is it, Simon?" she asked.

"Your protégé made a request for Radev's funeral," Lord Barton responded.

It took Lady Kiku a moment to place Kayla Starr as the protégé in question. "What was her request?"

"She wished for a specific member of Zero to attend."

"What reason did she give?" Lady Kiku asked. It was indeed a strange thing for a soldier to do.

"The Zero in question was present during her interrogation of Radev. Starr has him filling in for Radev's next of kin," Lord Barton answered.

"That is fine, then," Lady Kiku said. It was common practice to have a soldier's team present during their funeral rites. As that was not possible in Radev's case, having someone at least familiar with the man before his death send him off was the best Starr could do. Lord Barton knew this, as well. "Is there something that concerns you?" Lady Kiku asked.

Lord Barton was silent. "Not at present," the man said at last.

Their conversation ended there. Lady MacLean excused herself, likely heading for the firing range. Lord Greoff rose to follow not long after.

"You should not have told Sabina of the gun's origin," Lord Barton spoke.

Lord Greoff raised a brow. "Sabina is well-aware of our ties to the Dvor."

"She is aware of our diplomatic relationship with the Dvor's Lords. The more... personal channels of partnership are not known to her, as you are well-aware," Lord Barton said, the words pointed.

"Fine, fine, you win this round," Lord Greoff flapped his hand in dismissal. "Never thought we'd be keeping secrets from Sabina," he added.

"It is a temporary solution. This is not the best time to bring her up to speed – her grief is much too fresh," Lady Kiku offered.

Lord Greoff laughed. "Her grief is not going anywhere, Michiko. Have you forgotten your parents? How about your brother, Simon? We're all grieving for someone. Say it how it is: We screwed her over, and owning up to it will likely earn us a bullet somewhere unfortunate. Do not hide behind concern that is not there."

Lord Greoff slammed the door on his way out. Lady Kiku blinked after him, caught by the rare clarity of his reason.

"He is right," Lord Barton sighed at last. "Too bad that it does not matter. What did you learn of Sabina's plans?"

"She does not trust us," Lady Kiku responded. The words hurt to say out loud, but they were the truth and none of them could afford to ignore the resentment building in Sabina MacLean's heart.

Lord Barton nodded, clearly unsurprised. "Does she have any concrete actions in mind?"

"I did not have time to dig too deeply. She is planning to peruse the mission records from the last few years," Lady Kiku said.

"She will not find anything of interest," Lord Barton said. Lady Kiku bowed her head; the reports were, naturally, already 'fixed' to reflect what they should rather than what they ought. "Any particular reason for her interest?"

"She is looking for inconsistencies," Lady Kiku replied.

"She wishes to catch us in a lie," Lord Barton translated. He looked discomfited, at least, but did not sound at all apologetic.

Lady Kiku wished that she had his faith in the rightness of their actions. All she had, all she could offer, was knowledge – at times ill-gotten, and wont to being bent in whatever way was most useful.

It truly was an evil thing.