Location: Oldridge Residence, Hallway

Time: 16:16 6/1/08

Having walked the same halls for a few years I’ve come to understand everything about them. After only my first few days in the house I’d consciously memorized them. The layout, the width, the material, everything that might one day be relevant. Every detail, no matter how minute, could be used for Mistress Oakley’s advantage in the right situation.

But even ignoring that, day after day of patrolling the same path through the halls of the Oldridge Residence made it more familiar to me than anything else. To the point where I even made sure not to step on the same parts of the floor in order to reduce the wear and tear my daily ritual caused.

My familiarity with those halls are probably why the scene before me was so unsettling. An unfamiliar woman, sitting on an unfamiliar chair, positioned at an unfamiliar table, pouring unfamiliar tea from an unfamiliar pot, gracefully drinking from an unfamiliar cup. All of this was taking place in the middle of my familiar hallway.

“Confusion. Who are you? Why are you here?”

My first reaction was to be more confrontational, but I held back. She didn’t appear to be radiating any kind of aggression. Thinking rationally, she had to be someone the Prime Minister let in. I had the forethought to avoid starting a fight with someone on an official visit.

She had the appearance of someone more suited to a high class visit than a fight. Her delicate frame was draped with a jewel encrusted gown worth more than most people would ever have. The tiara resting gently in her pink hair shined with a brilliance even I could admire.

“Do you know why it’s proper to extend your pinky when drinking tea?”

“Uncertain. Because it’s proper etiquette?”

“Correct, but not right. The pinky is extended to improve balance. When you’re used to playing for the stakes I am a spilled drop of tea is no different than spilling blood. Well, in my case I suppose that’s true, even in a more literal sense.”

“Suspicion. What game are you playing?”

What I really wanted to know was how it involved me, and by extension, Mistress Oakley.

“The only game that matters. The one I wasn’t born to win, but the one I’ll claim with my own hands.”

“Confusion. Why are you talking to me about this?”

“I mentioned the tea to teach you a lesson: everything has a point behind it. Even if you can’t find it, that doesn’t mean it’s not there. And I brought up the stakes I play for because you're going to help me win them.”

“Doubt. I have no intentions of helping you with anything.”

“So you say, but you’ve already realized what my being here means. I’ve been accepted by this city’s Prime Minister. He wishes for my success. That means my success is what’s best for your precious charge as well.”

“Understanding. So that’s what this is.”

“Exactly. I’m glad you were quick on the uptake. I’m going to need someone of your caliber if I plan on winning this city. You’re going to become one of my pieces. I’m having the Prime Minister gather up any promising young talents in order to gain new recruits. You’ll be an integral part of that operation. And I hope you’ll forgive me for the late introduction. I’m Elodie Esterhaert, the seventh princess of the Pacific Empire, 29th in line of the throne, commander of the 6th field army, and Governor General of the Northern Territories. Though most simply refer to me as the Sanguine Princess.”

As I nodded along with what she said I thought about how little the Prime Minister, and now this wayward princess, understood. My only loyalty was to Mistress Oakley. Working with them for whatever goals they had shouldn’t be treated as a guarantee.

But for the time being, as long as Mistress Oakley wished to remain under her father’s care, my hands were tied. Yet again, another problem was hoisted on my lap. One more thing I had to deal with. Unsurprisingly, even at the end, this was an epilogue on responsibilities.