Lord Simon Barton was in a hurry.

The Court had just adjoined. The news of Chervnik's fall came like a blow from the dark, leaving the Amith Capil scrambling for answers. Human involvement was suspected. If the Amith Capil could provide no solid evidence to the contrary, retribution would come swift and brutal. The Dvor, like the Queen's Court, waited only too eagerly for an excuse to take action against their old foes.

"A familiar strategy, is it not?" Lord Greoff had commented idly as they listened to the Message Men give their reports. There were no less than ten of them, each one assigned to a different region in Chervnik's general proximity.

"Shame that it succeeded," Lord Barton responded.

That was the end of Lord Greoff's probing into the matter. Lord Barton snorted to himself as he strode toward the Main Hall, disappointed but not surprised. Lord Greoff would not bother to dig further and Lord Barton was too old a hand at lying to give anything away. There was no trail to follow besides, now that Cheryl Fane was dead. Anything short of a first-hand account would be easily discarded as hearsay.

What reason would a Lord of the Queen's Court have, to incite a war on the enemy's terms?

Lord Barton's lips curled. Whether in satisfaction or disgust, he himself did not know.

"Simon!" Lady Kiku called.

Lord Barton smoothed his expression. He slowed his steps so his friend could catch up, the Zero soldiers flanking his side parting to make way. Lady Kiku glanced at a few of them in passing. Lord Barton noted the intensity of her gaze and wondered if this was the first time Lady Kiku had been so close to one of his soldiers. Zero tended to remain out of sight within the Capital, as inconspicuous as wall decorations. Lord Barton suppressed his excitement. He could not hope to fool Lady Kiku if she truly were to become suspicious; how fortunate, that she was the one Lord among them who did a fine enough job at fooling herself not to need his help.

"Did you hear?" Lady Kiku asked. She sounded out of breath, having likely ran all the way back from her rooms once the news reached her.

Lord Barton inclined his head. "I am heading there right now. Are Sabina and Richard aware?"

"They should be. How in the nine worlds did she manage to make it all the way here?" Lady Kiku exclaimed.

Lord Barton shared her bewilderment. The Capital was not a place one could enter freely, steeped in protective runes as well as layers of physical security. Even if an intruder did enter the city somehow, their presence would be quickly discovered.

Ira Hale had not only made it to the Court's very doorsteps, but she had also added insult to injury by announcing herself.

"Someone aided her," Lord Barton said. It was the only sensible explanation; however skilled Miss Hale may be, she could not pass through walls.

"You believe there are traitors among the troops?" Lady Kiku asked, voice hushed.

Lord Barton smiled in his heart. "Certainly." Men were creatures of greed. It would be stranger if there were none.

Zero had no such weakness, but the reserve of Zero soldiers was not yet large enough to sustain the Court's needs. Besides, the Amith Capil still had its uses.

The hallway opened into a wide balcony. It faced the Ceremonial Grounds, a large open field that served as a gathering place for the troops in time of celebration.

The squadron of soldiers assembled there at present did not appear in a festive mood. Their ranks were a mixture of Amith Capil and Zero. All had their weapons drawn, the air heavy with tension and the potential for violence.

Ira Hale paid her unwelcoming surroundings little mind. The woman's eyes were on the balcony, fastening onto the two lords as soon as they stepped into her line of sight.

Lord Barton let his own gaze pass over the woman. "Why has the intruder not been apprehended?" he asked.

"She claimed to represent the Dvor, Sir," one of the Amith Capil soldiers responded promptly. Her voice was taut with disdain.

Lord Barton raised his brows. He looked at young Miss Hale again, his surprise exaggerated. "Is the Dvor short of suitable envoys? I think I am offended, on the Court's behalf."

"Lord Barton misunderstands," Hale said.

Death stared at her from every direction yet she remained unmoved, her voice clear and calm. Lord Barton felt a moment of regret. Ira Hale would have been an asset at his side. Pity, that it was no longer an option.

"I have assumed my father's Seat among the Dvor," the woman continued. "I am here in my own power, representing the Beaufort estate."

Lady Kiku was so still she was barely breathing. Lord Barton shared some of her disquiet. He was aware of Ira Hale's parentage, naturally. Ira's own knowledge of the matter was what had the man ill at ease. There was someone at Hale's side in possession of information that no longer existed in Samodevia's records. What else did they know? How much had they shared with Hale?

A bored voice broke the silence. "It does not matter what you choose to call yourself, or who you come to represent. Even the Queen of Hel would not presume to waltz into the Queen's realm uninvited."

Lady MacLean strode into the open field. Lord Greoff trailed in her wake, his lazy stride at odds with the woman's purposeful march. He smiled at Ira and added, tone blithe, "I do admire your confidence!"

The Amith Capil soldiers broke rank, widening their circle to a crescent as Lady MacLean drew near. Lord Barton watched the proceedings with great interest. He wondered how Lady MacLean would respond to Hale's provocation. Violence would be highly unwise, whether Hale's claims were true or not. The woman was a born vampire – a rare existence, treasured among her kind. If she were to meet misfortune within the Queen's Court, the Dvor would be forced to act.

Lord Barton contained his smile with great effort. Lady Kiku glanced his way, but said nothing. Lord Barton wondered what it was the woman saw when she looked at him. How much could she know?

How much would she ignore, for the sake of their friendship?

The scene beneath the balcony was quite lively. Lord Barton strode to the railing, watching Lady MacLean and young miss Hale face off. The two women were nearly of height. Lady MacLean had strength and years of experience over her younger companion, but miss Hale was in an entirely different category. A true fight between them would be difficult to predict, and certainly exciting.

"What do you want?" Lady MacLean asked.

It was her nature to be direct. Lord Barton wondered if Hale would take offense. He did not know enough about the woman's character to guess – an oversight on his part, in retrospect. Perhaps leaving Ira Hale's upbringing to the whims of the Amith Capil had not been the best use of resources.

"We should have taken her in properly from the start," he commented to his companion.

Lady Kiku agreed immediately. "It would have been but right. Yevelina would not have wished–"

The woman fell silent suddenly, as if something had stolen her breath.

Lord Barton patted her arm in consolation. Yevelina Hale would wish for nothing but their deaths, preferably at her own hand. Lady Kiku understood this well, but she liked to fool herself otherwise.

"You have one of my men," Ira Hale said. "I am wiling to exchange information for his safety."

Lord Barton straightened. The Amith Capil soldiers that surrounded Hale faltered almost visibly, darting startled looks between themselves. Lady MacLean looked taken aback herself.

"Oh? And what information could Your Lordship possibly have that would be worth a traitor's freedom?" Lord Greoff drawled.

"I was in Chervnik when the Red City fell," Hale said simply.

Lord Barton stiffened. In the field below, Lord Greoff straightened his lazy posture. He laughed in the frozen silence, and waved the soldiers flanking Hale back.

"Well-played, Lord Hale! What do you think, Lady MacLean? Is the trade worthy?" he asked.

"Worthy," Lady MacLean agreed.

The two lords moved in sync, inviting Hale between them. They meant to escort her inside personally, Lord Barton realized, and he was a step too late to do anything about it.

"The whole city will know about Chervnik within the hour," Lady Kiku said softly.

The Court did not plan to announce the Red City's fate widely until a sound strategy of dealing with the possible fallout was in place. Hale had struck a soft spot without even trying.

Lord Barton did not reply. He stalked back inside, mind split in several directions at once. The situation had changed much too quickly. From victory to the edge of defeat; the fall was exhilarating. Lord Barton found his pace speeding past what was appropriate and was forced to consciously slow down.

Lord Greoff had Hale situated in one of the smaller conference rooms within the inner court. A Zero soldier relayed the information to Lord Barton enroute. Lady Kiku spoke once the man withdrew, her voice pitched low, just for the two of them.

"What will we do? The boy is dead," she said.

"She is not here for him," Lord Barton dismissed.

Lady Kiku was silent for a moment. "I know your thoughts on her kind, Simon. Nonetheless, Ira Hale was a Captain of the Amith Capil, and quite a good one by all accounts. I fear that we stand to offend her if we do not explain the situation clearly."

Lord Barton paused his steps. He turned to Lady Kiku and the woman responded in kind, tilting her head up to see his face. It was such a common occurrence between them, this kind of easy camaraderie, that Lord Barton rarely paid it any mind. This time, it caught his attention so deeply that the words he had prepared entirely slipped from his mind.

Lady Kiku tilted her head quizzically. Lord Barton shook away memories of earlier, more honest years, and let out a sigh.

"She has her reasons, Michiko, just as we have ours. We have sacrificed too much to falter now. Do you understand?"

Lady Kiku nodded stiffly, distress written plainly on her face.

Lord Barton offered her a gentle smile. This unexpected turn of events would serve well in testing Lady Kiku's resolve, a boon in itself.

Hale could not be allowed to leave. Her purpose in returning to the Capital, her reasons for seeking attendance with the Court, did not matter.

In the end, Lord Barton supposed, nothing truly did.