The Otome World Ain't a Picnic for an AI Either (Rebooted)

[drakensis]

It's always easiest to sneak through security when the door is wide open already.

I'd been waiting for the opportunity, and while the guards around the palace looked impressive, there were carefully crafted gaps. Honestly, the hardest part had been learning how to walk like a maid.

I was dressed like a maid. Not the sexy time, the pre-industrial cleaning staff type. Even in a royal palace, that meant a hard-wearing and stain-concealing dress under an apron and a headpiece that was there to keep my hair contained, not to show off expensive lace.

No one looked twice at me as I went through a staff entrance that was unguarded in order to make room for people who weren't desired by the family who live here. I wasn't supposed to be there either, but hopefully they would retroactively be permitted.

Through the outer gate and into the cobbled street that separated the inside and outside walls. There were guards here, but they didn't look closely. After all, I'd been allowed through the gate so presumably the guards there had checked I should be here.

They didn't know that no one was guarding that gate. They wouldn't find out until it was too late.

The good entrance was facing the private docks. I went the other way, to a gate that wasn't guarded from the outside and should have been locked. It wasn't locked, and I could see in ways that a normal intruder wouldn't, that it wasn't guarded from the inside either.

It should have been. From here I was entering the inner ward, nothing separating me from the main building.

But arrangements had been made. The fix was in. The master of this castle and his family were sleeping in presumed safety, that was not the case.

There were few lights in the yard. A matter of economy, and who would they be lighting it for? The guards? They were going to need their night vision as best they could preserve it. It was a new moon, and the star light wasn't all that impressive. No clouds, so there was that.

I crossed the yard, low heeled shoes tapping the stones. I wasn't trying to avoid noise. After all, I was dressed to be here. Acting like I shouldn't be here would have been a giveaway.

With the practised quick but not overly hasty footsteps of an overworked maid, I went to the stone steps leading into the palace. It had been a fortified keep once. Now it had larger windows and doors. Still defensible, if you knew you were under attack.

They didn't. Except those who did and were in on it.

But once a door is open you can't entirely control who goes through it. The old man had adjusted the guarding schedule. In theory it didn't matter. In theory, he was there and anyone exploiting the totally excusable mistake… would be stopped.

The antechamber of the royal apartments was supposed to be secured by the greatest knight of the realm. Or two lesser knights.

It was empty save for expensive furnishings. Good, but not a surprise.

I had a little time to prepare. I had a bundle of preparations. But the first step I took was the inner door. I had a key that I shouldn't have had.

The cloth that wrapped what I'd brought with me wedged around the door, cutting down the sounds and smells going through it.

The contents of the bundle hung from an unlit chandelier, pin pulled, quietly releasing its contents.

By the time I was sure everything was ready, the opening in the security was being used by those intended for it.

There were too many of them. Six. Six! It was like they didn't know what they were doing!

Then again, royal assassinations aren't all that common. Everyone's an amateur, even me.

The door to the antechamber swung open silently on well greased hinges. No one had needed to ensure that, the apartments were well maintained. I stood still behind the door and in the dim light, none noticed me. No sound for their ears, no movement for their eyes. And for most of them, servants were furnishings.

One, two, three… when all six were inside, I extended my hand and closed the door behind them. Just enough movement that one of them saw something out of the corner of his eyes. He was turning before the door clicked closed, which alerted the others.

"Good evening, gentlemen," I greeted them, lifting my skirt slightly as I curtsied to them, eyes low and submissive.

One cursed under his breath.

The smart one sounded almost apologetic: "You shouldn't have been here."

"For god's sake," the leader growled under his breath. He had an elaborately groomed beard. "Someone kill her. No witnesses." He did not make a move to do it himself. No doubt, because delegating dirty work was normal for him.

To be fair, they did try.

The first one, who had cursed, had a long curved blade. Made for cutting. He tried to stab. I took it off him, caught the back of his head and introduced his face to the wall. He screamed as his nose broke. Again when I threw him into one of his companions.

The smart one had a better sword, one that gave him more reach. I parried his cut with the dagger and then swivelled and came in under his blade to kick his knee. The joint broke and now his leg bent the wrong way.

I threw the knife and it sank into the fleshy part of the leader's calf. He screamed worse than the other two.

"She's unarmed!" one of the two still standing shouted. Good lungs. No brains, because he'd just told everyone in adjoining chambers that something was going on. But good lungs.

Two men, breathing hard. Daggers drawn. Stabbing weapons, intended to penetrate weak spots in armor. They might have been enough to hurt me if they could connect.

They could not. Well, not with me. A little help, a little grip on their wrists and the two stabbed each other while I ducked and rolled away from the pair of them.

The one I'd thrown was halfway to his feet. The one who had landed on him was standing but swaying more than one admittedly painful collision would have explained.

They were fighting in a chamber that was filling up with a sedative gas. They were angry, scared, breathing hard.

I wasn't.

I did not need to.

In turn I hit each of them again. Hard. Below the ribs. Forcing air out, forcing them to gulp for more. To inhale the gas.

They fell, and since the gas I'd used was denser than air, they fell into the worst of it. They didn't all pass out, but none of them got up.

"What's going on out there! Vandel!" a man's voice called from the other side of the door into the royal bedchamber. The key I'd left in the lock trembled as someone tried to put their own key in. Funny thing: leave a key in a lock half-turned and it's rather hard to put another key into it.

I kicked the bearded leader because I felt that he deserved it.

"Assassins, your highness," I replied, in a clear and carrying voice. "I will unblock the door, please cover your nose and mouth. There is some gas."

The voice on the far side didn't respond immediately. I stripped the weapons from the assassins, burying each blade deep into a wooden side-table that was probably expensive. Well, now it had historical value as well.

Only then did I pull the cloth from around the door and fold it roughly, setting it down on one of the wooden chairs. Finally, I unlocked the door.

The door swung upon and the first man I saw had a very practical looking flintlock pistol aimed at me. Two barrels that from my perspective looked huge. I wasn't surprised he was here. I wasn't surprised he was armed. I was surprised how intimidating those twin barrels were.

I didn't try to disarm him. I curtsied. "Your highness."

"A maid?" he muttered through a bandanna covering his lower face.

"Taking out some trash," I murmured deferentially and backed up so he could see the bodies on the floor.

His eyes widened as he saw the bodies and recognised faces. "Count Gelatt! Baron Kelso… and Berwick!"

"Quite."

"And you." His gun had not wavered. "I do not recognise you."

Apparently he was not arrogant enough to treat servants as furnishings. Good. I had a middlingly high opinion of him. He was practical. I hoped I could work with him.

"I do not have standing to warn you of a conspiracy against your life, Prince Felipe. Nor credibility as a witness against them without evidence." I indicated the weapons buried in the table.

He eyed me. "And how do I know you aren't an assassin as well?"
"Your highness, if I wanted you dead, I could have done nothing and taken no risks. They would have done it for me."

"Vandel would… where is Vandel?"

I knew exactly where he was, but it was best not to appear too knowing. "I would suppose waiting for his cue to turn up and be appalled and ashamed at how he 'accidentally' allowed Holfort assassins through to slaughter yourself and your royal wife."

Prince Felipe Sera Fanoss groped for a light, struck a match and then lit a lantern. "Sir Vandel is loyal," he told me. The muzzles of the pistol almost didn't waver. Almost.

"Everyone has their price," I replied evenly. "Sometimes it's just very high. In his case…"

"Yes?"

"War with Holfort," I said simply. "And salving what remains of his conscience by telling himself he is still protecting your daughters. From danger and from your - in his eyes - wrong-headed decisions about the Kingdom of Holfort."

"I find that hard to imagine," the prince said quietly, voice saddened. Hard, but not impossible.

"Is he here?" I asked mildly, glancing around the room.

The prince of Fanoss slowly lowered his pistol. "You are very smug, young… are you really a maid?"

"No."

"Who are you?"

"A long story," I said with a sigh. I reached up and removed the exhausted gas grenade. "A very long story. And one that will be harder on your ability to believe than that Vandel betrayed you."

A shake of the royal head as I went to the window and opened it, letting cold air in and gas out. "You must have a name."

"Nimue."

"Nimue… I feel…" The prince backed up to his rooms. "I feel dizzy."

"Ah. Too much gas. My apologies."

He retreated through the door. "I am calling guards. Sit down. Do not leave."
I sat. As for not leaving… I wasn't entirely there to begin with.

---

Hundreds of miles from the royal palace of Fanoss, my real body - such as it was - sat in a hangar built into an island that floated high in the sky. The altitude was such that it would be unhealthy for humans - not fatal, but the air was dangerously thin outside the sealed buildings, cellars and other complexes.

That island was almost entirely safe, but 'almost' did not cover every threat.

By extension, I was almost entirely safe. Built into an armed transport from the age before this one. A civilisation that had fallen from its greatness in ways that had almost shattered the entire biosphere.

I hadn't wrecked the place when I woke up, although that was probably because I was too shaken at no longer being human.

Being a computer, an artificial intelligence… I still found it hard to believe.

Every time I found a human limit that no longer bound me, that became a little easier. Every time I found something human I could no longer do, that became a little harder to bear.

If I hadn't been able to create a gynoid body for myself, a means to walk around and smell the flowers (I had a greenhouse), I might have done something self-destructive. Or just destructive in general.

I have the means.

Believe me. I have the means. My main body is not a warship, as such, but I carry armaments for them and they are mounted now.

My ability to employ force is not in doubt.

The usefulness of doing so is more of a question. If I destroy everyone and everything… what then.

What purpose could I have in this world. What even was this world? The databanks available me had vast information but it was almost impossible to know what mattered. What applied. And what, in fact, was going on beyond my vision.

The last data I had found was centuries old, and spoke of apocalyptic ends. They were hard to read, written in pain and horror by those seeing their worlds end.

And yet the world was here, in some form.

That, in the end, was what had got me out of my island. Well, to a degree.

Drones had been sent out to find other islands. And a surface.

I found water. Islands that hung in the sky, defying physics as I understood it. Which would be more disturbing if my island wasn't doing the same. Below them, oceans spread without any limit I could find save the basic relief that the world was still basically a globe.

Exploring it entirely was going to take a lot longer, but basic geometry told me that I'd seen enough of it that statistically I should have at least found one island on the surface.

So far as I could tell, every remaining human population was on islands that floated above the ocean.

Humans and near-humans. Some of the people looked like they belonged in a fantasy story. Anime-type elves. Furries… ahem. I mean demihumans, which is what they are called by humans. Classic human diminution of their neighbors. People with animalistic ears, tails, etc.

A lot of that is generic.

Names are not.

It wasn't easy. Languages had taken months to translate and if I wasn't able to think faster than a human, and had something other than a perfect memory then I'd probably still be struggling for basic communication, rather than being mostly fluent.

Some names stood out though. Holfort - a kingdom. Fanoss - a principality. Alzer - a commonwealth. Rachelle - an empire.

That was a big coincidence. Too big to believe.

I was in the world of a game. A game in a book. In a manga. In an anime.

The game Alto Liebe, into which certain Japanese people had been reincarnated. A series of games, rather. Dating Sims for girls, but with combat mechanics and background tales that each escalated to national or even global disaster if you failed.

I was in a powder keg.

My first gynoid body did not run in circles and scream incoherently until it fell off the edge of the island. I deleted those recordings. No one else was there.

If there are no witnesses or evidence, it didn't happen.

There wasn't enough left of that body to recover. If there had been such a body or incident. Which there wasn't.

I'd spent a couple of years with no one to talk to except myself. That probably wasn't all that healthy.

---

Guards were called for the three noblemen and their knights. They had questions, but they were disciplined and didn't ask them.

Sir Vandel Him Zenden arrived without being called. He wasn't white-faced and shaking, but he saw at a glance that matters had not gone as planned.

"Your highness, do you wish them executed immediately?" he asked bluntly, one hand on the hilt of his sword and not quite ignoring the maid sat quietly on a chair at the side of the room.

He had noticed the piece out of place, and while he obviously didn't know the details, he was smart enough to figure out that I had something to do with the plan's failure.

And Gelatt was a worm who would reveal everything once interrogated, so Vandel knew his life was over if that happened. It was a weak play, but he didn't have many options.

"I think," Prince Felipe said, still holding his pistol, "That we must first establish how they circumvented your stringent security, my old friend."

It was a condemnation in everything but words. Vandel's hand trembled on the hilt. So marginally that I doubt anyone else noticed.

"Don't," I warned him quietly.

Now his attention snapped fully onto me. "You were the one who let them in?" he half-accused.

"If so, I would have to question why she did so only to defeat them on my doorstep," the prince observed. "You do not believe that we should interrogate them, Miss Nimue?"

"I believe that if Ser Vandel Him Zenden values his hand he should let go of his sword."

Felipe glanced down at the knight's sword hand. A tic in his cheek was the only obvious sign that he registered that he was in danger.

"I have served Fanoss since before you were born, girl," the knight snapped.

"And I suppose," I replied without raising my voice, "That you consider letting these six in to also serve Fanoss?"

The guards still in the room didn't seem to know if they should be looking at me or at Ser Vandel.

"That," Felipe said quietly, "Would certainly explain how they entered, Vandel."

"You believe this intruder over me?" Vandel accused.

The prince met his knight's gaze evenly. "I believe that you find my decision to make peace with Holfort highly objectionable. I do not like to think that it might persuade you to treason…"

Vandel's sword left its scabbard in a sinuous slither.

His hand parted ways with his wrist and I caught the sword before it could hit anything, using the hand not holding a guard's sword, which he had kindly loaned me.

Not stopped me taking from his scabbard. Loaned. Same thing.

"I… I think I can take that as confirmation," the black-haired prince said unsteadily.

The guard accepted his sword back. "Are you… human?" he asked.

I inclined my head slightly as if considering the question at merely human speeds. "I don't have the ears to be an elf or a demihuman. What else does that leave?"

Vandel clutched his severed wrist, trying to clench down on the artery that was pumping out his blood. He didn't scream, only a clenched jaw betraying his pain. "You're a Holfort agent."

"Never been there in my life," I told him. "I admit to using your little plot to establish my own curiosity. Thank you."

"I'll take that sword, please." Felipe set down his pistol and extended his hand for Vandel's sword.

I handed it off.

"Close the door please, Bethe," he called, and a woman who had been listening from behind the door to the royal bedroom pushed it closed.

"Sir Vandel Him Zendel, you have confessed to high treason. I have heard your reasons and offer no pardon," the Prince of Fanoss declared. "Only justice. As your friend, I hope you find your family in the afterlife. As your prince, I can only judge you in this one."

The sword swung and Vandel's head parted ways from his neck, in a cut almost as clean as my own a moment ago.

I was glad I wasn't a real maid. The floor was a mess.

 

[drakensis]

The sun was high in the sky before the royal family had more time for me. Not unsurprising, since along with the detention of three members of the Royal Council for high treason and the associated risks of civil war, Princess Bethe took a close hand with her daughters' waking.

Once Hertude and Hertrauda were with their tutors and the six assassins were also in detention - with carefully vetted guards who were watching each other as much as they were the prisoners. Vandel's betrayal had hurt trust and that was personal before it was institutional.

Felipe slumped slightly in his seat until Bethe sat down primly in the smaller and less ornate one beside his. He straightened, the silver circlet glittering in the light streaming through the high windows. "You said you had a long story, Miss Nimue. I think that it may be important enough to take the time."

We weren't in the great hall, it was a private room high in one of the towers. Not so private that there weren't three guards hidden in places they could rush in if I became a threat.

I pretended not to know about them as I stood near the centre of the room. It was easier than pretending they were a significant threat. At worst, if they were extremely good shots, they could injure my gynoid body. I do not believe that those injuries would be able to do more than inconvenience the gynoid. And of course, there was precisely nothing vital in it.

"Let us begin with the most implausible point," I began. "A few years ago, I received what I believe to be a prophetic vision."

Bethe arched one elegant eyebrow. "You're right, that is hard to believe."

"It was fairly shocking on my end," I confirmed.

"And this led to you knowing that we would be… at risk last night?" the prince asked in a clinical tone.

"Not so precisely. My vision is mostly focused on several events that could take place several years from now. And to be clear, they indicate several possibilities that aren't entirely consistent. Still, they are… concerning. Depending on outcomes, there is risk to a large number of lives."

"And out of a deep sense of responsibility to all life…" Princess Bethe challenged me.

I smiled slightly. "I would be extremely lonely if everyone else on the planet was dead. That's an outlier, but unpleasant enough that I'd prefer to take steps now."

Felipe leant forwards slightly. "I don't know that I believe you're right, but you have some credit. If the vision didn't tell you we would be attacked then how did you know."

I gave him a nod. "Part of the vision was of two orphaned princesses of Fanoss. Trapped in a court that preferred they be told that their parents had died to Holfort assassins."

I heard the princess breathe in sharply.

The prince's eyes narrowed. "What else did it show about them?"

"One, or the other, sacrificing themselves in hope that the other could be freed from the manipulators around them," I revealed without mercy.

The parents both grunted as if they'd been punched in the gut.

"Given the choice between those options, I would prefer the option where the survivor married the man she chose and seemed happy enough." I paused. "But given a wider choice… So I started looking into what might happen to you."

"You seem to be a very efficient gatherer of information," the prince observed at last.

I inclined my head.

"And you did all this with no thought of reward?" he asked sceptically.

I chuckled cynically. "If that were the case I would have been gone by now."

"And who is this man my daughter chose as her husband?" Bethe asked imperiously.

Felipe gave his wife a sharp look but thought better of questioning her priorities.

"At the moment?" I asked rhetorically. "A child of no real note to the mighty. Someone who who has no idea that he might be the crux of events, and would probably run for his life he learned that."

"And my…"

I shrugged. "The quiet ones, your highness. Always watch for the quiet ones. I can assure you that in that path, he was quite shocked to be chosen by… well, she wasn't a princess at the time."

Bethe's lips twisted in dissatisfaction. "I trust he was at least faithful."

"Married to seven other women," I said for sheer joy of the shock on the princess' face. "Which she knew perfectly well - in fact, she got along rather well with them as far as I know."

"My daughter joins some sort of harem!?"

A shrug. "Something like that. At the risk of speculating, since I can't necessarily know what people were thinking. Would be thinking…? Tenses are difficult. Hmm. It's not impossible that with no living family, she liked the idea of joining a large one."

Felipe rested one hand on his wife's. "But now we are alive."

"And hopefully you'll remain alive together with both your daughters for a healthy length of time," I agreed in a calming tone.

"So you… divined the plot against us and rushed over here to foil it?" the prince asked.

"More or less," I admitted. "You weren't my first stop."

---

I was too late for Alzer.

By the time I had drones in the land of the Sacred Tree, Leon Sara Rault was dead and buried.

So were the Lespinasse family, at least officially. Recently. The ashes of their old mansion were still measurably warm to me.

There is very little point mourning that which is outside one's control. There was, to be honest, little reason for me to mourn the Priestess or her Guardian. They had, so far as I could tell, been failures in their roles. Also as rulers. Most damnable, as parents.

Then again, if I made a habit of punishing every parent who fails their children then I would be at it for a very long time.

But those two… worse than the average. Self-absorbed in their ambitions and in each other. I did not mourn them. However, like most of their kind, they had not fallen without dragging down around them. Loyalty as a leash upon those who did not understand or did not accept that their lady and her consort preferred a choke chain upon their followers.

Oh yes. Chains and collars. I did not forget that in a future that might or might not happen, Loic - now a child and as innocent as such little savages are - would have used an item recovered from a Lespinesse laboratory to make Noelle - also a child as things stood - his slave in the name of what he thought was love.

The fact that Noelle was one of two twin sisters made that something of a possibility. Her sister Lelia was a reincarnator, and not a wise one - though I doubt such a unicorn exists. That supported the existence of others, because in the original Alto Liebe there was only one Lespinesse heiress smuggled away from the inferno.

I scoured the six houses, discreetly. Surveillance, that I would continue. Scans and searches of their properties.

Some of what I sought, I found. Some of it was records that gave me an idea of what had been devised by the Priestess before she lost the Sacred Tree's blessing. I did not find all of it. Some had probably been destroyed. Some had probably been hidden before I started searching and while quiet rumors of someone somehow uncovering caches set aside by the greedy produced direction to others, I thought it likely I had not found it all.

The twins were easy to find, and I monitored them. I did not take them, though I could have. I doubt my fitness to raise children and I will not count myself among those quick to kill. They had protectors, more than they knew. For now, well enough. Noelle had grown up happy and Lelia… was probably not ready to listen. Particularly to a mysterious stranger.

For now, I could leave the orphans to their own guardians and pay attention to other matters, such as a boy with a surfeit of family and a lack of allies.

I did arrive in time to stop a fire.

Serge Sara Rault carried a lot of expectations, as the adopted son of the new prime minister of the Alzer Commonwealth. He was a square peg, being pushed into the round hole left by Leon Sara Rault, and as a result of this, he had obtained a cigarette lighter.

He looked quite betrayed when it failed to ignite the small treasures of the dead boy that had been pushed upon him by a well-meaning but grieving elder sister - herself a child.

"Fire is not always the answer, young master Serge," I told him sagely from the doorway, wearing my first attempt at a maid costume. Not quite the one I would later use in Fanoss, but much the same way. Actually, it wasn't even the same gynoid. Faces are best kept separate.

The Raults had new power and responsibility, and therefore a need for more staff. A gap in their security, that they should probably clear up. Of course, unlike most intruders, I was on their books as a provisional hire to help mind the children. I'd written it into their accounts myself.

On the spot, Serge turned and tried to hide the lighter behind his back.

"Thank you for finding Master Rault's lost lighter," I congratulated him as if he hadn't stolen it. "I can tell you're going to be good at finding treasure in the future."

The boy preened and didn't resist my taking the engraved lighter from him. "I was…"

I glanced around the room. It was… cluttered. Evidence of a young boy, but since Serge had only been brought in recently, given up by parents more eager for the relationship with the head of the family than they were for their son's peace of mind… almost none of it was his. "Shall we have Master Leon's things boxed up?" I asked him politely. "I'm sure Miss Louise would rather have them safe where they might not be accidentally damaged. And perhaps we can check the attic for things that would be more to your liking?"

"An adventure!" he declared and so we set out on an exciting day of packing and moving boxes (me) and digging through dusty trunks and stores stored up in the attic of the master (him).

With Lord Rault engaged in setting up the new government and Lady Rault supporting him by managing the family's normal affairs, both of them also bearing grief of a recent loss, there was only one obstacle.

"What are you doing?" Louise asked with all the dignity of a seven year old aristocrat.

I set down the box I was carrying and had one of my drones distract Serge with a scuffling sound at the far end of the attic. Him coming down wouldn't help much. "Young Master Serge is concerned that your mementos of Master Leon might not be safe in his room," I told the little girl. "And because they're precious treasures, we're moving them to be safe where you can send for them when you want them."

"Doesn't he want to be my brother?" she asked forlornly, and dabbed delicately at her eyes with a handkerchief. Then she mopped them properly, and blew her nose.

I crouched to look Louise in the eyes. "I think he'd like to have a sister, Miss Louise. But that's not the same as wanting to take Leon's place. Serge needs to be brother Serge, not brother Leon!"

"But Leon is my brother so if Serge is my brother," the girl attempted to employ logic. "Then shouldn't he be like Leon?"

"No, Miss Louise. If Master Leon had married Little Miss Noelle, she wouldn't have become another Louise, would she?"

"Um." But she shook her head.

I patted that same head once it stopped moving. "You have two brothers now. Master Leon will watch over you in heaven. And Master Serge will look after you here." Well, probably. "Let's not get them confused."

Louise followed me up to the attic and missed Serge's alarmed look when he saw the back of her head emerge above the top of the stairwell.

"Now, this is where Mr Leon's things will be stored," I told the girl, before she saw him. "Why don't you help Serge find things he likes for his room. That way you can get used to what he likes."

That evening, my alter ego got thanked for looking after the children and then dismissed for over-reaching and packing away Leon's things without permission from the proper members of the household staff. And thus the balance of propriety was upheld.

It's not as if I had any ambition to devote part of my attention to cleaning the Rault mansion for years anyway.

---

"So what do you want from us?" Prince Felipe asked me.

I mentally braced myself. "I would like Fanoss to be stable, prosperous and secure enough not to be aggressive." Realms are usually prone to attacking their neighbours because one of those is lacking.

The royal couple gave me perplexed looks. "I would certainly like that myself," Felipe said slowly, "But it is rather easier said than done."

"Ah, yes," I agreed. "Currently Fanoss is in a relatively strong military position but that's at the expense of your people's wealth and as for stability…" They'd just missed a political coup taking over. No need to tell them what they already knew.

Felipe looked positively pained and Bethe eyed him. "Dear…"

"I propose to help," I explained. "But that requires considerable trust from you. I am, after all, a stranger who walked into your quarters last night."

"Trusting you with our lives would normally be a large step," Feliple noted, "Although your services last night are… reasonable evidence that you have no malign intentions towards us. Trusting you with my principality on the other hand…"

"I really don't want to undermine your rule," I stressed. "If nothing else, I don't think I'd be a very good ruler."

"So you'd like authority to help as you wish without responsibility?" asked Bethe.

I gave her a cautious look and then saw she was smiling.

"Ah… no. I do care about the outcomes."

"How reassuring." Felipe studied me. "Where are you from, Miss Nimue?"

I wasn't planning to tell anyone about my home island unless I really had to. Sure, it would be difficult to get to, but that wasn't the same as being impossible. And Prince Felipe was one of the people who would pose a threat if he wanted to.

"You wouldn't know it," I told him honestly. "It was known as the United Kingdom, but nothing to do with Repard. A few islands that had been several kingdoms but were brought together through the usual means…"

Bethe raised an eyebrow.

"War, dynastic marriage, religious chicanery…" I summarised casually.

To my surprise, the princess giggled. "One can tell you have a royal education."

"I was well-educated," I clarified. "But I was no one special. I'm simply the last survivor, as far as I know."

The humor was wiped away in an instant. "Oh my dear," Bethe said sympathetically.

"What could have happened to an entire kingdom?" her husband asked intently.

"I don't really know," I admitted. The answer was probably somewhere in my archives but they were depressing enough when it came to people and places that were only names to me. I hadn't braced myself sufficiently to explore what had happened to my home.

The entire surface of the Earth had been devastated, with the surviving land being that flung into the sky. I think it was safe to say that if anything was left, it would be almost impossible to identify.

"It was quite some time ago," I admitted. "All I know is that I survived somehow. I woke up later, on a small island that wasn't very habitable. My suspicion is that someone used one or more lost items."

The room fell silent.

"You said you wanted us not to be aggressive," the prince broke the silence at last. "And now you mention lost items."

Ah yes. "I would prefer that they not be used," I conceded. "But I would like you to be secure. As things stand, losing your Lost Items would be tantamount to opening you up to invasion by those who have their own."

"You want a veto on their use."

"I'd love that," I agreed. "But that really would be a ridiculous request. I can live with those things being in the hands of those not inclined to use them aggressively."

Felipe leant back in his seat. "And you think that I'm such a man?"

"I hope so," I told him. "You may wish to consider this though: I am not the only one to have had prophetic visions. And from what I can tell, none of us have exactly the same information."

"Multiple prophets?" Bethe exclaimed.

"I'm fairly sure of four so far, but I may have missed a few,." I shrugged my shoulders. "All of us want to use our foreknowledge to advance our agendas, which aren't necessarily in line. The next few years are… the calm before the storm."

"Oh dear." Felipe rubbed his forehead as if he had a headache. He probably did. As dehumanizing as it was, I took some comfort in not having to worry about those.

Bethe looked at me and then shook her head. "And you are seeking to use us for your purposes."

"I would like to think I am value for… well, not money."

"I assume," the prince said, "That you would prefer that your identity and reasons not be made clear. No one would take you seriously if you claim to be a prophet." His voice lowered. "I'm not sure that I believe it."

That was reasonable, I admitted privately.

"I believe we can manage that," his wife said confidently.

Felipe half-turned his head. "You have an idea?"

"Of course, dear. It easily explains her presence and would justify giving her a place on the royal council. We do have vacancies, and it would let us watch her while she has a say in our policies. Does that satisfy you, Miss Nimue?"

I frowned and then shrugged. "You haven't told us the method, but the outcome is reasonable." It wasn't as if he would put me in charge of the Principality, or let me puppet him. I didn't even want that. I'm far too introverted.

Princess Bethe smiled broadly. "Then welcome to the family."

"Excuse me?" "Excuse me?" Felipe and I responded at once.

She clapped her hands. "Perfect. Just look at her, Felipe. That long dark hair and pale skin - if it weren't for her eyes Miss Nimue could pass for one of your relatives. We can simply claim that she is your half-sister, having grown up in seclusion but returning to us now that we face this crisis."

I blinked. That was… rather brilliant, actually.

"That…" Felipe hesitated. "It wouldn't give you any claim on the throne," he told me. "But…"

"If something does happen to us, you'd have a claim to be regent," Bethe told me. "But you don't seem to want the burdens of power and you already tried to protect us so I don't believe you'd seek that."

If I'd had less self control, I would have shuddered at the mere idea. "I am deeply motivated to keep you alive, but if I fail at that I'll flee into hiding with your daughters until they're ready to return."

Bethe made a 'you see' gesture to her husband.

Felipe sighed. "I really can't think of a better reason. So… from now on, please enjoy the identity of Nimue Sera Fanoss." Then he mumbled "And my god have mercy on your soul."

"I appreciate the sympathy."

"The next thing we'll need to do is get you a proper wardrobe!" Bethe said with sudden enthusiasm. "I can make it a lesson for the girls: how to dress the hidden princess."

She swept out of the room and Felipe looked at me with sympathy.

Oh dear. What had I let myself in for?

 

[drakensis]

I didn't remain in Fanoss, of course. I wasn't constrained to one location anyway, although I usually only gave focus to a single body or process, since there are limits to my attention. I wasn't sure how much that is true for other AIs, but I think it's safe to assume they have limits too. Possibly higher than I do, perhaps not.

At some point I may also need to start introducing myself to people who already know me under another name and face. Or even just admit that I've got multiple identities.

The face I sent into Holfort airspace was not Nimue Sera Fanoss. I'd considered putting a male face to this but I felt, on balance, that it might not work out with the person I was here to talk to.

I'd used one of my larger skiffs to fly out to this island and sent dozens of drones to surveil the place, because I don't see any reason to spend hours or days trying to find what I'm looking by running around when I have more tools.

As a result, I left my skiff in the air and hopped down to approach the village where the elves' elder currently was. It's always easier to start from the top.

The elves gave me alarmed looks as I walked in. They could see the magic of others and it was apparently a major factor in their standards of beauty. I got the distinct impression as the villagers pulled back that what they saw in me was very different from humans or other elves.

Not, of course, that that should be a surprise.

I made an unerring approach to where the ancient elf was settling disputes via her much younger translator. And I do mean translator, the elder wasn't just mumbling, she was apparently speaking a much older dialect. I have no idea why, because she could clearly understand what was being said to her.

Both looked up as I approached and the translator opened her mouth to speak, only for the elder to stamp her cane's tip into the ground and silence her.

"I can wait my turn," I told them, eyeing the elves crowded around, all of them giving me a good bit of distance.

The elves crowded away to make it clear I was next. My english soul cringed at the disrespecting of the sacred principle of queuing and waiting your turn, but I suppose one can't expect civilisation from this cargo cult parasite settlement…

The existing dispute was settled remarkably quickly, the two elves having lost all their previous energy. I suspected that the elder ruled exactly as she would have done otherwise, but that both elves would blame me for not getting what they wanted.

I could live with that.

I looked around to see if any of the other elves was going to man up and take their grievance to the elder. Nope.

"Fine, I…"

One of the elves walking away turned and threw a knife at my back as I stepped forwards.

I could see it, of course. I had a drone watching my back

It would have been really cool if I'd reached back without looking and caught it. Instead I just reached back, missed and the knife dug into the back of my coat and the gynoid flesh below. It wasn't deep, a centimeter or so, deep enough that given how sturdy I am that it stuck.

"Son of a bitch," I complained, twisting my arm. Nope, right at that place which I couldn't easily reach. "Right where I can't get my hand on the hilt."

The elder said a number of things that were translated as "You idiot, the elder says, are you trying to kill the entire village?" I suspect that a few curse words were omitted.

"I'm keeping the knife to pay for fixing my coat," I declared, working my arms out of the sleeves, I had to drag on the coat to get the knife out. Through the drone I could see my shirt redden as I bled somewhat less than realistically. "And the shirt."

The elf who threw the life ran as if his life depended on it. Unreasonable: I'd just said I was taking the knife as compensation.

"So," I decided, turning to the elder, "I know it's traditional to assume that seers know all the questions ahead of time…"

Mumble-mumble. "The elder says she did not expect you this early."

That fit. In the canon of the books, Leon and his crew wouldn't arrive until towards the end of their first year at the academy. So her own foresight did not include me. That was interesting - because unlike everyone else with foreknowledge - the elf elder didn't appear to be a reincarnator and did appear to have known about the reincarnators.

"So you expected me, but in the future? Me specifically?"

The stooped old woman stared at me, eyes narrowed in a face so wrinkled that I could barely see those eyes. "A demon lord," the translator told me, haltingly. "But not now and not pretending to be human."

So she was expecting Luxion. Interesting. "Alright. Then you know what's happening under the ruins?"

Mumble-mumble. "The elder says she has forbidden the elves from going there."

I folded my arms.

"She says yes," the translator told me hastily.

"Alright, I believe you. You tried stopping them. I consider that to be good faith on your part. They went ahead anyway, so I'm going to stop it. I won't go out of my way to hurt anyone." I tossed the knife in my hand up into the air and caught the hilt when it came down. "But I make no promises if they are in my way."

The old woman stabbed her cane into the earth and then nodded resignedly. The elves around us exchanged looks. As best I could tell, most of them had no idea what we were talking about.

"I suggest," I said quietly, "That you encourage your people to start thinking about how to support themselves without depending on human craftsmen. I don't know for sure that pimping your young men out will end soon, but if they expect to be taken seriously then self-sufficiency would be in order."

The translator listened. "The elder says men do not always listen."

"I have noticed that," I agreed. "It is a suggestion, not a demand."

Folding my damaged coat over my arm, I looked around. "I will be visiting another village, inviting one of your people who has actual skills to take work - real work - in my employment. If they agree, they will leave with me. If they decline, then I will respect that."

The old woman took a half-step forwards. "I will encourage her."

So she knew who. "I do not require that she be pressured."

The aged elf shook her head and mumbled again.

"She will not understand unless we explain," the translator told me. "The elder says you should consider this repayment for ending what is under the ruins."

I eyed her. "Alright. But this is an explanation. If she is pressured…"

The translator opened her mouth and then winced when the cane struck the toes bare in her sandals. "The elder says not to argue with the demon lord."

I chuckled humorlessly. "See to your complaints," I told them, gesturing to the other elves. "I can wait. I am early, so we have time."

---

It was more than a week before Princess Bethe was satisfied that I had a wardrobe befitting a prince's sister. I wasn't strictly a princess myself, even for those who believed the cover story. There is a line between legitimacy and illegitimacy.

A week! I ask you to imagine how many shops we attended in that time!

Fanoss is smaller than Holfort, and its nobility are somewhat less addicted to luxuries than the result of Holfort's rotten policies. But they still have an aristocracy and their haut-couture was naturally centred in the capital city.

The point of the shopping trip, I quickly realized, was as much about my being seen at those shops as it was to do with the spending of a rather considerable amount of money (to be fair to Felipe, I had been keeping track and a suitable amount of coinage would be arriving to cover the cost. I couldn't match Luxion by exchanging one element for another, but I had found various wrecked airships and abandoned islands. Money is there if you look hard enough) and provide me with almost a hundred dresses.

Dresses, just to make it clear, I could very easily have just had the dresses made for me on my island. That's where I made my maid disguises, after all.

But the simple fact was that at basically every shop, Princess Bethe had introduced me to noble ladies and explained my identity. The shopping had been far less exhausting than introduction after introduction to various married and unmarried ladies who were all calculating what I meant to the complex politics of the women of Fanoss.

Fortunately, I have a flawless memory. That did nothing to avoid the mental exhaustion. I collapsed every night into the bed of my new bedroom adjacent to the royal apartments. I was relieved to only be supervising security around the castle, something I was vastly better at than Vandel.

Tonight, there was no grand dinner in the main hall.

Felipe was absent now. He'd been organizing an expedition during Bethe's shopping and it had set off this morning, a dozen ships and over a hundred knights to thoroughly take control over the islands belonging to Gelatt and his conspirators.

That left Bethe to administer the castle and the island it sat on. Part of that was late meetings and though the sun was down, she wouldn't be back for a while. I was keeping an eye, from a distance.

I was doing the same with Prince Felipe, as it happened. Or rather, a secondary AI that was far less capable was watching him via one of the thousands of stealthy drones I'd sent out. It was filtering and letting me know any anomalies. Even my new brain had limits and I wasn't going to push them if I didn't have to.

And I also had a drone in the corridor where a little dark-haired girl had snuck out of bed and was creeping barefoot down the carpeted hallway to her parents' bedroom.

I watched through distant eyes as Hertrauda Sera Fanoss pushed on the handle to the royal bedchamber. It was locked, because secure documents and valuables were there and the owners were not. But I'm not sure she understood that.

"Mommy?" the little girl nearly whimpered. "Daddy?"

Dammit.

There was every possibility she'd have done that in a timeline where they would not be back because they'd departed in a far more permanent fashion.

Before she'd entirely given up on tugging down on the brass door handle, I was at my own door.

Like her, I was barefoot and in a nightdress. Bethe had not suggested anything too… excessive. It was not the image any of us wanted me to present. Thus my nightgown was practical and not one designed to invite unwrapping.

"Hello little princess," I greeted her softly, dropping to one knee.

Hertrauda spun. "Uh, uh… Aunt Nimue."

"Your parents aren't back yet," I told her softly. "But they will be."

"Will they?"

I reached out and when she didn't retreat, I picked her up. "Yes, 'Rauda. They will be back," I promised.

"But bad men tried to take them away!"

So much for efforts to keep the facts from children. "They tried. And they failed. And your father will be away for a little while, because he's making sure that the bad men won't try again."

"Are you sure they will be back?" she asked again. "Uncle Vandel went away."

"They will be back," I said again. "Vandel…" How to do this? "Vandel was very old and he missed his own family very very much."

She looked at me with red eyes as I straightened up. "Mommy will be back tonight?"

"Yes. Not soon, but tonight."

"Can I stay up until she's back?"

"'Rauda!" hissed a voice from their bedroom door. I turned and saw another dark haired head peeping out at me.

"Trudi," the munchkin in my arms waved.

"Don't bother, Aunt Nimue," the elder princess lectured as she emerged. But she too looked longingly at their parents' door.

"You're not bothering me," I told them. "But you're not staying out here in the hall until your mother's back. It's too cold!" I shivered dramatically.

Hertrauda rubbed herself against me. "Please."

"How about this," I suggested. "My bed is big and lonely. Let's all go wait there." I really doubted they'd be awake but at least they'd be warm and keeping them secure wasn't just warding off assassins.

I took the resulting noises from the younger sister as approval and carried her back to my room, trailed after by Hertrude. Hertrauda gripped hold of the front of my nightgown in both small hands and rather than wrestle the fingers away, I lay down with the litAtle girl facing me.

The older sister scrambled up behind her, and there was some shuffling of pillows and blankets until we were all comfortably situated, both girl's faces turned towards me.

"Aunt Nimue?" Hertrude asked, snuggling up behind her sister. "Can you tell us a story?"

"I…" What sort of stories are appropriate to a pair of little girls?

No, seriously?

Setting aside that it had been a very long time since I was that age, most of my own interests in stories would have elements for which they'd have very little context. Plus certain topics would be insensitive.

Even I knew that a story involving dead parents would be hilariously inappropriate.

"What sort of story would you like?" Hopefully that would suggest something.

Hertrauda half-yawned, half-drooled something even I couldn't make out.

"A story about adventurers!" Hertrude suggested.

I should have known. Fanoss was just about as crazy for adventuring as Holfort was.

Still, with a little bowdlerization, that gave me an idea.

"A long time ago and very far away, a certain city had become known as the City of Thieves," I began to retell the tale in my own words rather than try to translate from the original tongue. "That is not a name that befitted all of it, of course. Like any city it had shops and markets, and great houses for the wealthy. But in the quarter called the Maul, the streets heaved with scoundrels and rogues and, of course, adventurers."

Hertrauda's head rested on my chest, but Hertrude's red eyes were still open in the candle-light.

"The Maul was a dangerous place, for dangerous people," I continued. "Fortunes and death were side by side on its streets, and the bold spoke in whispers in the dark dens of where they would go and what they would do. For naturally, none of them wanted to share with their rivals."

That got an agreeing noise from the older princess, and what I thought was a snore from Hertrauda.

"But the reckless and proud also bragged of what they had found, and thus on one night a certain proud man from Koth bragged that his latest prize would be worth all the treasures of the Tower of the Elephant."

"Upon those words, a youth forced his way through the crowd and took a seat beside the braggart. This young man was worth a second look - tall and lean with dark hair and burning blue eyes," I introduced the protagonist. "He was a savage from the Cimmerian hills and though the Kothian knew it not, his name was Conan. 'Tell me of this tower,' he demanded."

I kept my voice low, in order not to wake the younger sister and the elder's eyes were also sagging by the time that Conan had teamed up with the fat Nemedian thief as they sought to relieve the sorcerer Yara of his wealth.

While this was going on, I had observed Bethe finally making her way into the rooms and while she was weary, she wasn't deaf. She checked her daughter's room first and then heard my low voice through my door when she hastily started checking every other room.

"Mom…ther," Hertrude greeted her, as Bethe pushed the door open.

The princess took in the situation and then smiled. "So we're sleeping in here tonight?"

She left and Hertrude's eyes closed in what seemed to be relief.

I kept whispering the story until the little princess's breath smoothed out. Until my surveillance (which respected personal modesty) showed the princess-consort returning, hair combed out and wearing her own nightgown.

I had decidedly mixed feelings about her slipping under the covers behind me; but she fell asleep almost immediately, leaving me surrounded by sleeping Fanossian royals.

---

I'd brought a skiff large enough to take passengers with me, so there was room for the elder and her translator.

"This is a remarkable vessel," the translator noted, looking around the enclosed interior.

From the outside, the skiff looked much like a small and expensive human airship - one that didn't depend on sails. A rich man or woman's toy, or a fast courier.

The interior was less authentic because, among other things I didn't need controls. I was the controls.

"My own work," I replied, although I'd 'built' it by way of telling an automated factory to construct something off pre-programmed templates. If I'd had to design it myself, I'd have got there in the end, but I would have probably still been working on it at that point.

She leant forwards. "What can one of our people bring you that you don't have already. If it was a man I could…"

The elder tried to hit her on the head with a cane. I extended my hand and caught it. "No violence on my ship."

She eyed me and then retracted the cane.

"I am not all knowing," I said quietly. Although I'm closer than most people. "And I can't do everything." Then I leant towards the translator. "And if your men were any good for that, then you wouldn't be sending them away."

For the first time I heard something from the old woman that wasn't a mumble. She cackled.

The translator sat back in her seat and said nothing, lips pressed tight together.

"We're here," I told them after a few moments.

"So quickly?" the younger elf asked.

"Airships are fast and it wasn't far," I told her. Two truths, and not touching on the fact that the skiff laughed at what was considered reasonable speeds for an airship.

I'd helped the elder in, now I helped her out. We were at the village where I'd already located my target.

For recruitment!

The village chief came rushing up, followed by a handful of elf men. The moment they saw a well-dressed human woman, half the men shed their shirts.

I gave the translator a sarcastic look. She flushed and yelled: "The elder is here."

"Welcome elder," the chief said smoothly. "We did not expect you to arrive by airship. Is there an emergency."

Mumble-mumble. The translator looked shocked. "You -" (I took the pause to be omitting some insults) "- have disobeyed my orders about the ruins. Now the consequences have arrived."

"I don't know what you mean," he protested.

"I'm going to see her," I told the elder. "Catch up or not." I didn't walk so fast that she couldn't keep up.

There was some very hasty mumbling behind me and then the old lady quick-hobbled after me. I slowed and then let her lean on my arm.

Behind us, the translator exhaled and then screamed: "Get your idiots out of the ruins! The demon lord is here and if you interfere in her cleansing the ruins, then you will be destroyed as well."

"What demon lord?" the chief asked, but the translator was hurrying after me.

His next words were "Daft old woman."

My next action was having a drone lurking upwind of him pull the pin on a gas grenade. It didn't knock them out, but would leave them dopey and slow to react for a while. They could still send messages to anyone still in the ruins, but if they attempted violence then they'd be at more of a disadvantage than the normal handicap of being particularly lazy fleshbags.

Even if I hadn't known what house I was looking for, it would have been obvious. There were more flowers around it than any other building in the village.

When I reached the door, she was resting two milk-jugs on the windowsill by the door. Her face lit up. "Elder!"

"Mumble-mumble."

"She says," the translator panted, catching up.

"The demon lord?" Yumeria said in surprise and looked at me. She was an elf, anime type not tolkien type. Those who know, know. Her hair was green, suiting the fact that she was gifted in plant-related magics, and her eyes were gold and wide and welcoming. Probably too welcoming, given she'd been through a lot.

I'm not saying she wasn't bright, more the sort of person who'd learned to let other people's anger roll off her like water off a duck's back. There are worse reactions, I suppose.

I gave her a little wave. "I have a job offer for you."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said sweetly, "But I have a baby to care for."

"I'm not a baby, mom!" a young elf called. He was indeed not a baby, but he looked younger than Hertrauda.

I raised my hand. "Let me explain what it's about," I told her evenly. "If you're not interested, then I'll take no as your answer and leave you in peace."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Yumeria said, touching her cheek with one hand. "Please come in, the door's not latched."

It wasn't, and we walked into a cozy kitchen. The little blond boy was sitting on a chair sized for him, working on numbers with an abacus. Yumeria left the milkjugs on the windowsill and pulled back seats at the table for me.

The elder mumbled and mumbled, the translator tried to speak twice but was waved to silence. How inconvenient to have the old elf speaking and not know what she was saying.

I sat and waited, keeping an eye on the chief. He wasn't sending any messengers to the ruins. But he wasn't gathering weapons or attempting to take the skiff. His indecision was acceptable to me.

"So," I said to Yumeria once the elder shut up. "I don't know what the elder said, so I'll just take this from the top."

I put a picture of a sapling down on the table where she could see it. "I have a very special tree. Almost unique. The records I have say that the last time someone brought it to maturity, an elf with your very rare skill-set was involved."

Yumeria gave the picture a look, then a second and more curious look. "This looks… familiar," she told me, running one finger down it. "I don't know where from though." A pause. "This is strange paper. It's very smooth."

"It is," I agreed. It was a photo, not a drawing or painting. "The job would take several years, and the tree's on a fairly isolated island. There are some residents, but they're not very talkative. You can bring your son, if you want. There aren't any children there, but it's safe as such things go. If things don't work out, I'll bring you here or to any reasonable destination. Same once the tree is well-established."

"What about men?" the little boy asked bluntly. "Mom isn't good with men."

"Kyle!"

"There aren't currently any men there. That may change," I told him. "If they bother her, they will leave. Possibly very quickly off the edge of the island."

"Um," Yumeria said faintly.

I smiled slightly. "I am human enough to be violently protective of my people. While you are with me, you would be one of my people."

She glanced at the elder who tried to nod and then froze when she saw I was watching her out of the corner of my eyes. "Oh."

"Pay would be double what your people usually get for whoring themselves out to human aristocracy," I added. "Coin or goods. I should be able to get anything reasonable." By get, I mean 'make'. "Delivered monthly either to you or here at the village or… to repeat the phrase, anything reasonable."

"That's…"

"That would probably make the chief happy," the translator offered.

I shrugged. I didn't care one way or another if he was happy. He was hip deep in the fumbling nonsense going on under the ruins, a nonsense that was in theory supposed to subjugate every human in the planet to elves.

The plan was comically poor, but the ambition would be almost admirable if he wasn't just as toxic to other elves as he was to humans.

"Anyway," I told Yumeria. "You don't have to decide now, I have a couple of things to do. Probably a day or so's work. Once I'm done, I'll be back. If you're interested, you come with me. If not, then no harm done and I'll just leave."

The elder started to mumble again, but Yumeria just nodded thoughtfully. She turned to her son. "Kyle, how would you feel about not being here. You'd miss all your friends."

"What friends?" he mumbled.

Yumeria looked sad. "You might still make friends."

"The only ones my age, aren't my age. Go if you want to."

Well that was an interesting statement.

The green-haired elf picked up the photo again. "I've never forgotten a plant," she said - as much to herself as to anyone else. "But I can't remember where I saw this."

Then she met my gaze. "We'll go with you, Miss Demon Lord."