James Galloway - The Tower of Sorcery

"I can't believe this," Tarrin said in shock. "What kind of man is he to try to kill his own daughter ?"

"A power-mad maniac," Miranda said calmly. "Damon Eram only cares about three things. His throne, the continuation of the Eram line on the throne, and the power of Wikuna as a whole. In that order. He is absolutely ruthless. He killed his own brothers and sisters to be the heir, killed his father to get the throne, and has killed and destroyed to keep other noble houses from gaining enough power to challenge his rule. Damon Eram could stand eye level to a Giant if the skulls of everyone he's either killed or ordered killed were stacked underneath him."

"That is awful," Tarrin said voicelessly, in total disbelief.

"Unfortunately, it's set a bad trend," Miranda said sadly. "In order to beat the Eram line, the other houses have had to sink to their level. It's made politics in Wikuna very bloody."

"I'm just shocked," he said sincerely. "I can't believe that people would be that cruel."

"It's the real world, Tarrin," she sighed. "I don't like what I do, but I do it. Keritanima depends on me. She'll make a good queen, if she ever comes to accept her role, and can convince the nobles of Wikuna that she's fit to hold the throne."

"Do you want her to be queen?"

"I want her to be happy," she replied. "But sometimes, what one person wants or needs is overshadowed by what others need of them. Wikuna is desperate for a good, compassionate, fit monarch. The savagery of the Eram line has weakened the entire kingdom, and if it's not stopped, then Wikuna will be like Yar Arak. Keritanima is the only possible choice. She's the only Eram left with decency, and few in Wikuna could be a better ruler than her. The fight over the throne would destroy the kingdom, if there ever was a succession."

"But if she orders you to run with her, you will."

"Of course," she said calmly. "She's my Princess, and she's also my friend. I'll always be here for her, even if I don't agree with the decisions she makes."

Tarrin put a paw on her shoulder, and she gave him that cheeky grin that magnified her almost unbearable cuteness. "I think Keritanima is in good hands," he told her sincerely.

"I'm so glad you appreciate me," she smiled. "You know, if we're not careful, we could end up being friends."

"I think that's already happened," he told her with a smile.

"Ah well. Water under the bridge, and all that," she said with a roguish smile.

"Guess you're stuck with me."

"I can think of worse people to be stuck with, believe me," she told him. She closed another chest lid. "Looks like we're down to scrolls."

"Let's finish up, and I'll escort you back to Binter and Sisska. That way your cargo is protected."

Miranda picked up the first two, then modestly slipped them into the bodice of her maid's dress. "I think it's protected now,"she winked.

"What a hiding place," Tarrin mused. "But you've got a bulge in your stomach."

"Most people don't look at my stomach, Tarrin," she said, using her hands to emphasize her white-furred cleavage.

"I know. I'm more of a tail man myself, though."

Miranda laughed. "Well, I think I can give you something to look at, then," she said, sweeping her very, very thickly furred blond tail around and brushing it up against his side.

"I do love that tail," Tarrin mused as they closed the chest holding the scrolls, threw canvas over the chests and table, then left the tent.

It was a cold blustery day everywhere but in the garden. There, though it was still overcast and blustery, it was pleasantly warm, and the flowers and green plants continued to thrive and bloom. On cold days, the garden became a very popular place, as katzh-dashi , servants, guards, and Knights visited it to feel warmth on their skin not made by the dry heat of a fire, and to recapture a bit of spring green when surrounded by leafless trees and winter-browned grass. The blustery day brought many into the garden, and its white gravel pathways were crowded with many people as they walked along the flower-lined pathways and marvelled at the Tower's one true vanity. One of those pedestrians was Miranda, wearing a lovely little gray maid's dress that offset her white fur and blond hair and tail perfectly, and her passing caused more than a few heads to turn. Unlike Allia's ethereal beauty, Miranda's cuteness seemed to awe and sweep away everyone who crossed her path. Where Allia's intense beauty inspired jealousy in women, Miranda's cuteness only made them treat her like an old friend. Miranda always left a trail of whispered "how cute !" remarks wherever she went, but she was careful to always dress in clothing that showed a bit of fur-clad cleavage, or hugged her curves, so that the onlooker firmly understood that he or she was dealing with a woman, and not a little girl. She could easily change her clothing to look like a younger teen-she was only nineteen, just a year older than Keritanima-because her type of cuteness was always associated with youth. And like Jervis, Miranda had learned how to use her appearance as a weapon. Nobody- nobody -ever associated such a cute, precious little thing with activities like spying, extortion, blackmail, even such grisly things as interrogation, and even murder. People tended to say things in her presence that they normally wouldn't say, for they were disarmed by her cuteness, and the trend in both human and Wikuni alike to treat someone like her with inordinate friendship than they would with others. Miranda had learned from her employer in how to raise vapidness to an art, for few associated people as cute as her with intelligence either. A few little eyelash flutters, a couple of breathless, brainless remarks, and a whole world of priviliged information was opened before her. Sometimes it took a bit more, and more than once she'd had to trade kisses and even more in darker alcoves in the palace…but such activities in themselves were occasionally quite enjoyable. Provided she was trying to get information from a handsome young nobleman.

It was a meeting of deceptive importance, on more levels than people who witnessed it could possibly understand. The foppish rabbit Wikuni, Jervis, happened to cross paths with the mink at a meeting of pathways, and they travelled on in the same direction at the same pace. At first, nothing was said. They were merely travelling in the same direction. But then the rabbit Wikuni took out his most treasured pocketwatch and began to wind it, hanging his hooked cane on his forearm as he went about his task.

"You're looking well, Miranda," he said in his lilting, slightly squeaky voice. "Could you kindly ask the fellow with the crossbow to stand down?"

"Only when you order your man with the flintlock to do the same," she replied in a calm, almost friendly voice. "Really, Jervis, why bring a man with a musket on the grounds? They're much too noisy."

"Not when a priest casts a spell of silence," Jervis replied.

"Clever."

"Thank you," he replied modestly. "Was there anything specific you wanted to talk about?"

"Yes," she replied. "How many men have you lost?"

"Nine," he said with a grunt. "You?"

"Fifteen," she replied calmly. "We have to put a stop to this. Good men are hard to find."

"Indeed. So, you wish to call a truce?"

"We were never really opposing one another, Jervis," she said calmly. "We just work in different ways to the same goal."

"True. But if we weren't opposing, you could have been more open in your activities. And you didn't have to buy one of my men."

"Jervis, that's like asking a canary not to sing," she told him with that cheeky smile. "How else do you expect me to find out what you know?"

Jervis chuckled. "It's just not polite," he told her.