Xander stood in the hallway, noting the curve, the distance between the different doors that fed into it, the paths it lead to. Maybe serving the Queen was too much for him. One mysterious instance, and his mind ran away from him. After his meeting with Princess Irella the day before, he came back to the hall to see what he could find. As expected, it was a lot of nothing. “You.” Said a woman behind him. Xander stood, his hands locked behind his back, and he turned to face the voice. It was a guard, a Galan, though shorter than some of her sisters-in-arms. “Ma’am?” Xander said as she approached, spear at the ready. The Galan propped her spear up, and let out a sigh of relief, “So it’s just you. They sent me this far for nothing.” Xander lifted an eyebrow, but stayed silent. She would reveal the rest of her thoughts in time, or she wouldn’t. “There were reports of a man wandering the halls, acting suspicious,” She said, “Sali sent me here personally. Sometimes I think…” She let her thoughts fade away, then stamped her spear against the carpet. A serious tone overtook her, and she glared down at Xander. “State your business, man.” Xander hadn’t done anything wrong, but he understood the sentiment. He was the only man in the building. There could still be servants in the castle who didn’t realize he was even there on official business. He needed to make better use of his time, or risk scaring clients. “I have a meeting with her highness, Princess Dalia. I left early, and have been occupying myself with a mystery.” “A mystery?” The woman said, taking a step forward, “If you have anything suspicious to report, you should take it to the central quarters of the guard.” The words of the other guards echoed in his head, “I’ve heard it said, not your hall, not your problem.” The woman’s nostrils flared, “Are you mocking the royal guard?” That was foolish. This mystery was making an idiot of him. Still, this woman seemed particularly invested in what he was saying. She took another step forward, and he could see that her work took a stress toll on her. She looked as if she had been serving a stressful post for a decade, and was only relieved to come talk to him. “I’m Yalle, of the High Guard. I’ll be watching you, little man. Sali believes you are so weak that you’re harmless. I’m not nearly as trustworthy.” Xander swallowed, and straightened his back, “I apologize, madame. I won’t dare speak for the guard again.” “See that you do not,” Yalle turned, her dress brushing against Xander as she swept past him and left the hall. It was about time he got on with his task. There was no better way to make up for his mistakes. He was welcomed by the two Galan guards. The serious one was there, but she had a different partner. Xander bowed to them. “Little man,” Said the serious guard with a nod. Her partner seemed a little round in the face. She nodded as well, but then looked over to her partner. “He is the one?” She asked. “The very same,” Said the serious one, “Have him state his business.” The round one nodded, stood even straighter, and struck her halberd to the carpet, “State your business, good sir.” Then she looked to her partner for approval. “A little stuffy,” She said, “He’s no lord.” “Ah, apologies.” “I’m here to meet with Princess Dalia,” Xander said. He watched as a smile spread on the face of the serious guard, but the new round-face girl held fast. “Well,” Said the rounded one, “You’re on the record. So, you may pass.” They both stepped aside, and let him pass. “Be safe, little man.” He didn’t forget their previous conversation. What little he knew of Princess Dalia made him nervous. Still, he didn’t understand how this task could be any more dangerous than meeting Princess Irella. Dalia was older, and Xander hoped, wiser. Though he knew that nobles did not always make the best decisions, especially when they knew they could get away with their actions. He passed far down the hall and approached a door on the right. A maid was standing outside, her ear to the door, a slight smirk on her lips. When she noticed Xander, she stood up straight, and her face went red. She was Field-folk. Her clothing, a maid uniform of festive colors, made Xander lift a brow in confusion. “What do you want?” She asked. “I am here for a meeting with the princess,” Xander said. The girl looked at the door as if it were going to respond, and then took a deep breath. She knocked, “Polli, the little man is here for her highness.” “Now?” Said a voice from inside. A young girl’s voice screeched from inside, “Let him in!” The door opened, and another maid in the exact same outfit came stumbling out. She looked to Xander with pleading eyes. “Little sir, please, a warning for you,” She said. Xander looked through the door, but all he could see was pastel colored furniture. “Anything you have, madame,” Xander replied. The maid tilted her head, and locked her fingers, “It is close to her highness’s nap time, please be careful what you say, and do, or look at.” “Are you gossiping, Lilandra?” Said the voice inside, “I said send him in!” “I am coming, your highness,” Xander said, and then he nodded to the two ladies before walking through the door. He closed it behind him, and then turned around. The room was almost like a nursery. There were tall dressers everywhere, in bright pink or white, with children’s dolls and stuffed animals lined up on top. Even her bed had bright floral patterns, mixed in with pictures of an animated sun. The whole room looked fit for a child, someone a fraction of Dalia’s age. There in the center of the room, sitting at a purple table with a cup of tea in front of her, was Princess Dalia herself. She stood, and for the first time since he arrived on the mainland, Xander was taller than someone in a room. Though it wasn’t by much. Dalia’s hair was long and blonde, kept brushed to curl at the end. Her dress was a sky blue, and loose enough that it seemed to billow out. “So we meet again, Mr. Zindu,” Dalia said. She was there when he met the queen. Xander didn’t remember her, he must have overlooked her. “I’m sure, if you have any sense about you, you’ve heard the talk about us,” She said, motioning toward the free seat at the table. Was the rest of the castle alive with the same ideas the guard had? That was problematic. “I can’t say I know what you mean,” Xander said as he sat, “your highness.” She sat down, and then pointed to the teapot. Xander leaned forward, and poured her a cup of tea, before pouring his own. “Look around you,” Dalia said, “To them, to the others, we were made for each other. The little princess, and the mysterious little man. We please them, aesthetically. I’m sure that tickles you.” It terrified him. It was a problem he wished he could tackle, but there was no simple means to. If anything, this meeting was only going to exacerbate the issue. Dalia was a Tianu, mixed well with the pure blood of the Queen. As a people, the Tianu were smaller even than the Xin. They were excellent at magick, their knowledge of history and lore rivaled by all the realms. Their best known trait though, was also their curse. They seemed to live as long as a Hytian. A Tianu had yet to be observed dying of old age. Unfortunately, while Hytian aging slowed after puberty, Tianu stages of life were all extended. The eldest Tianu known appeared like a young woman to most other races, and most of their people were biologically, childlike. “Quite the opposite, your highness,” Xander said, “It makes my job difficult when rumors trouble my clients.” “Trouble?” Dalia snapped, “Trouble is when a new cook draws cute animals in my food. The common-folk have deemed themselves my matchmaker, though I dwarf them in age. It is a crime, and you are their instrument!” Xander sat up straight in his seat. This was disturbing the princess more than he expected, and he didn’t really know a way to solve it. Unfortunately, he had a feeling she had an idea. Her ideas weren’t far from her sister’s. “Your highness,” Xander began. “Do not,” Dalia interrupted, “I understand you may not be a willing participant. Still, I have called you here to justify them. Regardless of what we accomplish behind these doors, they will imagine us in childlike bliss, playing with dolls, or locked in a game of tag.” Better that than they imagine something worse. “You have a better idea, I imagine,” Xander said, gripping his teacup tightly. Dalia thought about it. It was odd seeing a frown on her childlike face. She was serious, poised, but it all seemed forced because of her shape. “Enlightened discussion,” Dalia said with a nod, “Surely your mind can rustle something loose and add to my own.” “I would love to, your highness,” Xander said. In his experience, nobles who said they wanted intelligent conversation, never did. It only forced them to sound as intelligent as they imagined themselves to be. Still, the Princess Dalia was older than him by bounds. “How about size and cultural perspectives,” Dalia said with a glimmer in her eyes and a brief smirk on her lips, “As a Xin, you should have some thoughts to add to the problem of little peoples and their forced babyfication at the hands of taller peoples.” Xander opened his mouth, and then frowned, “Actually your highness, I lived my life among the Zindu. I’m quite used to being average height in the room.” Dalia frowned again, “Well, since you’ve been here? What of that.” “It has been odd,” Xander admitted, “I was trained to talk to taller races. I know of their wishes when they see me. There is a natural impulse, to want to protect the small, save them from harm.” “Even if they do not wish it?” Dalia growled. This conversation was only making her angry. “Unfortunately, yes. They see young siblings in us, their children or future children. There is nothing to be done.” She slammed the table, and the tea went sliding. Xander reached out and caught the tray, then pulled it back to the center. “Nothing?” She said, “I am fourth in line for the throne, yet I would be unfit to rule if my own subjects would coo at me like some brain-addled infant. No, this is about respect. Maybe you are also too young to truly understand.” There was a soft knock at the door, “Are you okay, your highness?” It was the maid, Lilandra. Dalia’s eyes widened, and for a moment her smile widened to a point that terrified Xander. “Oh yes, Lilandra,” Dalia squeaked with the glee of a young girl in a field, “We’re having a great time, we just knocked the table. He says next we’ll play house.” She put a giggle on the end, covering her mouth as she did. Her eyes were locked with Xanders the whole time, a strange act put on for the audience Xander knew was right outside. “Oh,” The maid said, then Xander could hear a stifled laugh, “Okay your highness. Be safe.” Dalia took in a deep breath, and then let it out. “New topic, regional politics.” “Like?” Xander asked. He still had not recovered from what he just saw, but he tried to keep his thoughts straight. Dalia was a different client than Irella entirely. She wasn’t trying to get him killed as a pervert, she would assassinate his image. She was stealing him for herself. “Let me see,” She said, “I’ve heard the Southlands are in some sort of revolt, the Red-tops, for sure.” Redtops, close relatives of the Field-folk known for their blazing red hair and tough disposition, were a common point of conversation on the mainland. They were a people often used for industry, and for that reason they had revolted from the Queen in the past for unfair conditions. They were even shorter lived than Field-folk, which always seemed impossible to Xander. He sighed, “They are an interesting people. Wild at heart.” “The Tailin are wild,” Dalia said, “The Red-tops are brutes. I have told Azel in the past that we should wipe them out to the woman. Their armies cannot stand against mother’s might.” Xander kept his mouth shut, sipped at his tea. “Your thoughts?” This was when you avoid talking, and especially avoid answering. If he answered correctly, if he said what she wanted to hear, he would be a perfect tea partner. She would keep him here forever. Alternatively, if he made her angry, he may find a whole new trouble. “Isn’t the Queen’s army some great number of Red-tops?” Xander said. Dalia’s face crinkled in frustration. “Fine,” Dalia slapped her cup down on the table, “If you’re no good for conversation, maybe there is some other use you have for a woman.” She stood up and walked toward him, and Xander got from the table just in time to see it knocked aside. “Your highness,” He pleaded, backing away from her, “I’m sorry if I’ve offended you.” “You offend me by backing away, come closer, Xin.” He walked over his chair, felt a dresser as he avoided slamming into it, eyed the room for some possible escape. There was nowhere to go. “You have permission to run,” She said, “It won’t help you.” Xander took the right granted, and turned to flee. She followed close, as they circled the room. She tried to cut him off, keeping him on one half of the room. Her mouth hung open, her eyes darting back and forth. He was going to be trapped. Instead he leaped up to the top of a dresser, landing with minimal wobble. “That’s cheating!” She said from the base, “Come down this instant!” She began to climb, the dresser drawers pulling out as she scaled each one. He knew she was serious about her word though. He couldn’t just leave the room, what would she say of his behavior? If she couldn’t have him for tea, what would she want of him? Nothing proper. Xander leaped from the dresser, but his thoughts left him vulnerable. Dalia’s hand reached out and grabbed him, slamming him against a shelf, and leaving him toppling toward the bed. When he landed, she was close behind. She bounced, her dress fluttering up and about as she did. Xander dried to pick himself up, but her own movements left him off balance. She pounced, landing on top of him, and pinning him to the fabric. She was panting wildly, a blush in her cheeks. Xander questioned knocking her aside, but knew the game was up. She pursed her lips, and peppered kisses on his cheeks, and neck, and forehead. “Is this right, Xin?” She said with frantic breaths, “Do you see the real me now?” She pulled him up and placed a hard kiss on his lips. Xander could barely keep his heartbeat steady. “Please your highness,” He gasped, “Can’t we discuss this like adults?” She pushed him down into the bed, and wiggled her hips on top of him. She had a wide smile, and her chest heaved with each breath, “I am not my mother’s baby! We will show her together.” Xander shook his head. She pulled herself close, her lips beside his ear. It was her best attempt to be sexy, to give that lustful tone to a voice that would need to wait at least 100 years to get anywhere close. “I want you to make me a woman,” She whispered, “Do it, Xin, please.” She wrapped her arms around him, kept him close, whispered soft words into his ear. Then, her grip went soft. “Your highness?” Xander whispered, “Hello?” He flinched as she began to snore right into his ear. Xander’s heart began to flutter. He rolled her off of him, and looked down on the princess next to him. Her eyes were shut, her cheeks crimson red. She was fast asleep, gone just like that. He slid off of the bed, and slipped the covers from under her. She stirred, rolling over, but he brought the cover back up to her shoulders. He found a mirror, wiped away all signs of the princesses lipstick, and then went to the door and opened it. The two maids nearly fell in on the room, and then straightened themselves. “Princess Dalia has taken her nap,” Xander said, pointing into the room. “Oh,” Lilandra said, “Well, it sounds like you two got quite a bit of exercise.” Xander nodded, “It is my place to please.” Lilandra stifled a giggle, and then waved to her fellow maid, “Come, get her out of her dress and into her pajamas.” The two ladies passed by and closed the door, and Xander let out a long sigh. The two guards let him pass without anything more than a nod, and he made his way away from the royal hall. He passed by another hallway, quiet except one maid leaning slumped against a wall. At the far end was another hall, maids passing back and forth as they headed to their work. Xander’s eyes saw what his brain could barely process. The figure at the far end of the hall, it was wearing a hooded cloak. They were pulling something back into the cloak, their right hand extending and twisting to palm the object. It shimmered, metallic? They mingled with the traffic of servants in the far hall. He stopped, and watched the slumped maid in the middle of the hall. She wasn’t slacking, she was barely moving. He moved closer, and she fell to the ground. Xander ran, pulling the young girl up. He saw what he was afraid of, a small puncture in her abdomen, a growing stain of red across her uniform. The cloaked figure had a knife. “Stop!” Xander shouted as he ran to the end of the hall and turned. There was nothing but service girls. They were all wearing the same, moving the same. They spilled in and out of doors, talked with one another, carried random containers and objects. There was no sign of the cloak. The girl, she needed help. “Someone call a guard, and a doctor,” Xander shouted in the hall, “Hurry, a woman is hurt. Call the guards, hurry!”