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Tightly Wound

"I beg your pardon?" he was quick to answer, and perhaps a little too quick. The higher arc in his eyebrow tried to show confusion, but the strength in his gaze did not help to give away his anxiousness. He was well aware of the material the young man before him was trying to reveal. True, Robert had all ready admitted to himself that he saw Ms. Stroud under a different light, but he did not feel it was time to uncover to same details to anyone else; especially Andrei.


"My intentions towards Ms. Stroud?" he continued to cover. His mind progressed to come up with other expressions that would detour the mechanic from his goal. He almost spoke of his promiscuous past, ready to scold Andrei for making such unruly assumptions, but then he remembered that those particular details of his life were not known to everybody. Bringing them up would most likely hinder his cause, than aid. Andrei's direct inquiry never spoke clearly of romantic intentions, so verbally concluding to them early would likely weaken his argument as well. So Robert attempted to come up with something else.


"Are you saying you think they have changed since we've first met, Mr. Volos? Ms. Stroud and I still stand as the same, rivaling senators you hear of everyday. Our intentions are indifferent." The pattern in his breathing changed as the tension continued to build inside of him, and the grip on his cane less strict. Why was this man suddenly making him so nervous? This type of anxiety had not been felt for a long time. It took him back to when he was only a boy, just learning the art of verbal debate. Standing before a group of people and conquering his stage fright had been of of his weakest links, though no one would have guessed as he stood before hundreds of people to share his intelligent words. Yet, somehow this one man was able to bring back this feeling, making him nothing more than a little boy. He lightly tapped his fingers along the jade orb that sat upon his cane in attempt to lessen his stress, but the minor action did little for him.
 
Andrei’s understanding of mechanics stemmed from a love of puzzles and a lifetime study of cause and effect. Machines behaved in predictable ways, but humans did, too, at least to an extent. If you knew n individual’s habits and mannerisms, it was easy to gain information from their reactions. Mr. White was still relatively unknown to the man, but Andrei could see the tense control of his reaction and recognized the stalling tactic of repeating the question. Mr. White’s indignant demeanor was supposedly in character, but Andrei had witnessed many debates in his time.


Mr. White was stalling. It might also be Andrei’s imagination, but he seemed nervous.


Andrei continued in a calm tone without wavering. “If I may be so bold, you are not the same. You both argue, but not with the same tenor or tension. Many people may not notice it, but they do not know you - or Ms. Stroud. To be forthright, I am concerned for Anna.” He adjusted his hat, his lips pressing together briefly and causing his mustache to twitch. When he looked back up to Mr. White, his gaze direct and even. “The rest of the world may not know it, but I know you risked your life to save hers.” While he did not voice it aloud, the question hung in the air briefly as he paused: why had Robert Amos White risked his life for his primary political rival? “... and for that, I am grateful,” Andrei continued. “We all are.”


He scratched his chin and nodded at some internal thought before continuing. “I hope you are considering the possible consequences of your actions.” He dipped his chin as he said it, looking “up” at Mr. White and awaiting a response.
 
"Oh, so that's how it works these days?" he strongly stated after he collected his nerves, and took a bold step towards Andrei. "You dare to interrupt my path to discuss the 'possible consequences of my actions', to counsel me over my static intentions with Ms. Stroud, and come to me as if I understand nothing. Pitiful." His stance remained stable as he reminded himself of his professors' advice. Stand strong, give eye contact, and never show your fear. "You are foolish, Mr. Volos, to believe there is something more between Ms. Stroud and I, and to think you know us well enough to comprehend the level of our affiliation. As is the rest of the Aneora."





Now matter how badly Andrei wanted to know, no matter how forceful his efforts were, Robert would never forfeit his confession. If Anna failed to understand, then his emotions did not matter. Other pieces of advice began to fill his mind, one in particular stood out. "If this is what you think, that a new sense of admiration for Ms. Stroud has developed, you are wrong. Very, very, wrong." He paused briefly. "I am a politician, and I do not waste my time with such irrational ideas."





Robert took another step closer to Andrei, and continued, "If you are planning to bring the same subject with Ms. Stroud, I advise against it. Now, if you have nothing further to say, I have an airship to catch." His phrase had emphasized, exposing his urgency to end their conversation, and hopefully catch the Blackcastle Engineers before they endangered the nation.
 
Andrei suffered the confrontational response from Senator White with the stoic demeanor of a servant. He let him rant and rave, accuse and insult, all without a change in his expression. If anything, he was more concerned about the situation based on the tenor of the other man’s answer. He would not push; that was not his way. He knew that people, like machines, moved in specific and predictable ways and pushing them too far in the opposite direction almost inevitably ended poorly.


Yet Mr. White’s words were disturbing.


“If this is what you think, that a new sense of admiration for Ms. Stroud has developed, you are wrong. Very, very, wrong.”


He had not even considered that Mr. White might have genuine feelings for Anna. He had assumed that the man was simply oblivious to the fact that their close working relationship, paired with his heroic and death-defying rescue, had started to affect Anna. He had assumed the man with such a reputation for offending others without any qualm to be oblivious to the change in her temperament. Andrei had been concerned that Anna was developing affections for Mr. White - affections that would certainly be unrequited. Now his blustering objection made Andrei’s eyebrows lift almost imperceptibly.


This was not good.


Andrei held Mr. White’s gaze as he stepped closer in an attempt to intimidate. The mechanic donned a smile he did not feel and nodded. “I will discuss with my employer and friend what I deem appropriate, Mr. White. Even mechanics have that right, and unlike you, Ms. Stroud is not unknown to her servants.” He could not help the small jab at their earlier exchange. He despised that this man seemed to think that being a Senator meant he could order everyone around in every facet of life. “But I do wonder, Senator... if what you say is true, why are you so upset?” He took a breath and shook his head. “It is of no matter. You’re correct on one account: we do not have much time. Anna is likely waiting for us. If you are ready, I can show you to the dock.”


Chapter XI

Anna had selected a deep blue gown for their second visit to the palace. She was pacing the dock beside the airship, trying to devise a way to get ahead of the Blackcastle Engineers. A two other servants were scurrying about the ship, preparing for the journey. So far, no epiphany had struck her. They had the plans as proof of their treachery, but what was their argument? That the Engineers had left them out of the research while Robert was recovering from his injuries? At best, it sounded like an excuse. At worst, it would seem like sour grapes.


Her steps paused when she saw Robert approaching with Andrei. She looked between the two men curiously. There was a tension between them she had not expected. Tilting her head slightly, she looked to Andrei first. “Shall we?”


Andrei nodded and gestured for her to board the ship. He assisted her as he said, “We will be ready to push off within a few moments.” Then, with one brief nod to Mr. White, he left to attend to his duties aboard the ship.


Anna looked to Robert, a trace of concern in her eyes. “Is there something the matter?”
 
"Please," Robert lowly growled in response, and Andrei did not hesitate to oblige. The two men walked side by side, keeping to each other's pace as they quickly covered the length of the halls. Robert did not speak or look to Andrei, and his glare remained on the path ahead of him. The grudge he held toward Andrei was so strong, it distracted him from formulating arguments against the Blackcastle Engineers. While his mind genuinely tried to push him back into focus, the unpleasant echo that rang through the halls from their steady pace lulled him away from such thoughts. They returned around the corner, and pushed through a large set of doors.


When they set foot outside, Anna had been waiting in front of the airship, and Robert couldn't help but notice the color similarity in their outfits. Andrei willing assisted Ms. Stroud onto the ship, and didn't even turn an eye towards Mr. White. Though the action might have held cold intentions, it did not bother Mr. White. It probably would have bothered him more if he had offered his assistance. In all the times he boarded an airship, never had he accepted a pilot's hand.


With ease, Robert gracefully pulled himself onto the ship, using a small amount of force to push against the top of his cane. Admittedly, the task was slightly harder due to the injury on his side. Its healing was nearly complete, though it still limited Robert from extreme movements. He looked to Anna as he heard her question with a blank stare, and gave her the simplest answer, "No."


"All set then?" Andrei spoke as he worked the machine, pulling on this gadget here, and pressing that button over there. Then they were off, and the vessel was gracefully lifted from the dock. Though it would not appear so from the deck of the ship, they ascended at an incredibly rapid pace. Once the airship reached the appropriate altitude, Andrei began to navigate the ship towards the Roghan Palace. It did not seem necessary to give directions. The royal palace was an iconic piece of architecture, and seeing Andrei as a skilled pilot, one could assume he knew it's location very well.


In mid flight, Robert pressed his hand against his chest, confirming that the documents were still in the pocket of his jacket. Now that he had distanced himself further from Andrei, he was able to elaborate more ideas for their argument in his mind. When he looked at it simply, all they would have to do was explain the documents Andrei had described to them, but there would be deeper levels that action would not secure. Firstly, how they were able to understand the documents and come up with their evidence. Andrei's safety would be put at risk then. Even though he still did not think fondly of the mechanic, he still remained virtuous to his initial goal. No other souls were to be harmed under their responsibility.


"Have you been able to devise a plan for the explanation over our evidence?" he conversed with Anna, caring less if Andrei overheard them. "Even with your mechanic's description, they will still know the scripture more than we do. They'll be able to point out anything we leave out." He paused, giving her a chance to speak.
 
Anna accepted Robert’s answer at face value, although she continued to monitor the interaction between Andrei and Robert. Tension had crept into the space between them. Was it simply Robert’s earlier comments, or had the two spoken after she left the room? She made a mental note to speak to Andrei about it later. While she understood his annoyance, it would not to do have Andrei antagonizing Robert about a comment made while Robert was tired and recovering from his injuries. Certainly she would address the slight, but Andrei doing so only increased Robert’s annoyance and reduced their chances of coming to a working resolution on the matter.


Or so she assumed.


She was still annoyed with Robert herself, but she did her best to put it aside. They could not afford to be distracted when they met with the King and the Blackcastle Engineers. Thus she did not ask Andrei what was the matter when he sent one of the servants off the ship at the last minute. Instead, she looked to Robert, who was, as always, focused on the matter at hand.


It made it easier not to raise her voice.


She shook her head, her lips temporarily pursed in annoyance. “I have been contemplating just that. There is no simple path, is there?” she asked, her eyes moving toward Andrei. “Not without tipping our hand. Unless we imply that one of the Engineers themselves came to us out of concern, but that deception is not only unbecoming but also unwieldy. Eventually, they would want to know the name of the Engineer.” As the ship took flight, she began to pace the deck, her hands moving as she spoke. “So perhaps we go back to what we know. Or rather, what we suspect. We know the Engineers purposefully omitted the details on this design from us. We theorize their intent is to keep us from revealing it first.” She paused, shaking her head. “Or ... not to reveal it at all.”


She faced Robert again. “I believe the greater danger posed lies in their nondisclosure. If they do not inform the King, we must. If they only mean to disclose the information and claim the credit for the discovery, what harm is there in allowing them that petty victory?” Yet again she began to pace, pausing only a moment for the rhetorical question to hang between them, a ripe fruit never to be plucked. “Yet if they do not inform the king, do we reveal our knowledge then and there? Or do we request a private audience with the King?” She sighed, tossing up her hands. “And then I still have no solution for explaining our knowledge without endangering Andrei...”
 
Robert watched as Anna paced the deck of the vessel while she verbally revealed her thinking process. Mr. White was not accustomed to the movement of airships as Anna had been, so only made minor movements to ensure his balance would be maintained. Even with a cane settled beneath him, it still felt rather risky to make movements as wide as Anna's. He stood there, thinking over Anna's rave as the ship began to push itself along the winds.


"Perhaps we do not need to explain our knowledge," he finally cut in, feeling his chance to speak would never come unless he had done so. "What if we only suggested the abnormality in the diagrams? No.... that won't do," Robert suddenly realized, and went back to thinking. Had they carried on with that action, their intelligence would still be questioned, and Andrei's soul would be placed at stake again. Part of Mr. White wanted to scold Ms. Stroud for introducing her mechanic, but there was not time for harsh words, and they probably would have never reached this point in the project if he hadn't been involved. "It will be to our disadvantage to say anything," he continued with a light undertone of anger. It seemed that the senators had been faced with an impossible challenge.


"Addressing the information to the King privately may seem suspicious, and is very unlikely. It is uncertain to say how the Engineers would react, " he began to walk about more on the deck. "And the guards won't want to leave his side, not after what happened at Market Square." Their conversation was all ready beginning to make him feel inferior. Why was it so difficult for the two strongest senators to become so stumped over this kind of conflict? How did a group of ridiculous engineers succeed to baffle the most influential figures in the political world? Robert continued to think of solutions, but every time it seemed that he had it figured out, it would always loop back to their lack of knowledge in the engineering world. Several times he cursed under his breath, either tapping the end of his cane against the polished wood of the deck or pressing his fingers upon his forehead.


His eyes looked to Anna, annoyance clearly printed over his face. "We need to find someway to direct their presentation from the side, or to fool them into exposing their own fraudulence." He wildly shook his head again, as if to push away the idea. Again, his thoughts tripped back to their lack of expertise. "We also need a god damn solution for these papers," he grumbled with frustration, and gestured towards the documents in his jacket.
 
The sun was climbing quickly in the sky, illuminating the clouds and reflecting off the various metal instruments on Andrei Volos’ ship as he adjusted the sails and caught the wind, propelling them upwards. The ship’s bladders kept it afloat and he could use the engines to apply speed when needed, but he preferred the challenge of using the wind, as sailors on the seas did. It made him feel more accomplished and, whether right or wrong, it seemed to him to provide a smoother ride.


Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mr. White and Anna discussing their situation. It was nearly impossible to miss what they were saying, especially with the animated tone. Once they cleared the cloud cover, he set the ship toward Roghan palace and then ventured toward the two Senators. Mr. White was gesturing emphatically, clearly upset. Andrei could only assume he was unaccustomed to a lack of options. The mechanic stepped up quietly and looked between Anna and Mr. White. “If I may... I believe I have a solution for you.”

~ * ^ * ~

​



The flight proved considerably smoother than their last journey to the royal palace. Over the course of the trip, Anna and Robert had discussed the fine points of Andrei’s suggestion. It was not a perfect plan, but it did account for their understanding that something was hidden from them. If the Engineers showed the prototype working as they now understood it to function, there was no reason to discuss it. If the Engineers showed it but did not disclose the machine’s true function, they would state simply that it did not match the plans they had received - and that they suspected, based on Mr. White’s somewhat limited knowledge of mining, that it had to do with black powder and ventilation. If they said nothing, they would have to address the issue with the King and show the completed plans. If pressed, Andrei said they could name him as assisting: better that than allowing the Engineers to keep such dangerous technology a secret from the crown.


Anna did not like it, and it showed in her expression as they disembarked from the ship and made their way through the palace grounds. This time the guards seemed surprised at their presence, but escorted them nonetheless. When they arrived, the King was standing at one end of the room with Lord McCallister and Prince Harold close by. The Prince did not look pleased. Mr. Harper stood before them in his Blackcastle uniform, gesturing with one hand as he held the other behind his back. To one side, a table similar to their last one was on display with two other Engineers standing behind it and both prototypes on display there.


“Senators Robert White, Chief Monarchist, and Anna Stroud, Chief Anarchist!” the guard announced as they stepped inside. Mr. Harper turned to face the door, monocle in hand and a smirk on his lips. “Bow before your King!” the guard announced, as was custom. Anna fought her reflexive cringe at the use of the term “Anarchist” as she stepped forward, waiting until they were approximately half way between the door and the group to curtsey to the King.


King Geoffrey smiled as he saw the two Senators. The Prince seemed curious at their arrival, and McCallister wore a subservient expression of observation. None of the Engineers seemed pleased to see them; the two behind the prototypes exchanged a quick, meaningful glance before returning to their duties. But the King held his arms open wide, looking specifically at Robert. “Senator White! I did not expect to see you so soon!” He walked forward, looking the man up and down. “Mr. Harper explained that you were still recuperating. If I had known you were ambulatory, I would have sent a private ship to escort you.”
 
The rest of their journey to the palace had been spent debating over their limited possibilities. Then Andrei had walked from his position, and offered an idea that, while far fetched, could potentially save them. At first, Robert was not willing to accept Andrei's suggestion, but in the end he had no other choice but to oblige. It was true, he had been given some knowledge over mining technology due to his father's career, but it was impractical in nature. Mr. White would not have to bear the guilt for lying to the monarchy, though he would be shocked if their tactic would repel the Engineers from endangering the nation.


Once again, Robert took the lead as they crossed over the luscious gardens along the finely crafted bridge. The Roghan Palace gracefully floated among the sun kissed clouds as it had before. Guards continued to surround them as they finally made their entrance to the throne room, and were commanded to respect their King. Robert stood beside Anna, and bowed in unison with her curtsy, then leaned back in a natural, standing position.


"They're not supposed to be here," Robert noticed an Engineer mutter to his comrade as the men in maroon stood behind the prototype, though Mr. White was unable to catch the exact words that were exchanged. He had only noticed them completing this action before returning to their normal duties. Mr. Harper, to say the least, looked far from pleased to see the senators standing before him.


Robert's attention was drawn away from the suspicious movement when the King approached them in a lighthearted manner.


"I had been placed under great care," he spoke to address the King, and to praise Anna's generous hospitality. "I am sure my wounds would be far from the conditions they currently hold, had I stayed within the hospital. While such an offer would have been deeply admirable, your Highness, I am afraid it would have bared too much time. Our arrival was unexpected, and it was far more convenient for us to utilize the resources we had readily available."


"My boy, nonsense!" the King responded, still donning a bright expression. "Our ships provide nothing less than perfection, no matter, your situation is comprehensible. Tell me, why have you and Ms. Stroud come to visit us on such short notice?"


"Ms. Stroud had received a note this morning, saying it had been sent from Mr. Harper," Robert spoke in turn. "Had they sent it any later, we would not have made it to witness the presentation, if we are correct to assume that is was is being carried out with this evening."


"Well yes, of course," the King strongly stated. "Mr. Harper, I believe we have interrupted your performance," he gracefully spoke as he slowly sauntered his way back to his throne. "Carry on," were his final words as he situated himself upon his seat.


Mr. Harper had just finished a side conversation with one of his men as the King spoke to him. He turned toward the King, and his monocle fell from his face as the height of his eyebrows increased. "Of course, your Majesty," he bowed, then caught his monocle from dangling in mid air, and propped it back above his cheek. "We believe these findings to be quite interesting, your Highness," Mr. Harper began to speak, as if he were starting from the beginning of his presentation once more. Robert watched intently from a distance beside Ms. Stroud, prepared to make any objections if the time came. "As I explained earlier, the intelligence of this design is quite extraordinary," the Blackcastle Engineer Chief continued, moving his hands around the strange piece of technology. "Somehow Elijah managed to construct the machine out of one of the lightest welding materials, while also using a manner that allowed its mobility and balance. Such accomplishment has been astonishingly difficult to achieve in our day and time. In many cases, the material would simply collapse, or deteriorate from usage. This product, however, has been capable of standing the test of time."


So far what the Engineers had presented was safe, but Mr. White did not allow that sense of relief to wash over him just yet. It seemed they would have much more to tell as the Engineers moved around the spider like object, pointing to this gadget and that.


"Here you can see the marks left behind from friction," Mr. Harper informed as he pointed to one of the various joints along the prototype. "Just one of many signs from past use. They are nothing to fret over about, simply the natural nature of mechanics. Our team was successful to witness it motion, after we were able to produce a proper fitting key. I have brought with me today the appropriate tools necessary for our presentation, your Highness," the Chief pulled the very item he spoke of from his pocket, and allowed it to gleam in the natural lighting of the throne room. "Shall I continue?" It was clear that Mr. Harper was eager to run the machinery.


"You are so anxious to show me such wonderful knowledge," the King nearly laughed. The Prince moved his forward glance to his side, concerned about the attitude of his father. While the presentation held strongly, the young man could not help but to presume that their ambitions were no good deed. His gaze slid back to their previous position when he noticed McCallister giving him a similar look. "But tell me," the King continued. "What are the capabilities that I can expect from this machine?"
 
“An excellent question, Your Majesty,” Mr. Harper replied with a satisfied smile. The Chief Engineer looked at the two Senators with thinly veiled disdain as he approached the table with the prototype. Lifting it carefully from its posed position, an expression of confusion briefly visited his features; enough that he had to adjust his monocle before proceeding. One of the guards standing behind the table, a dark-haired man with broad shoulders and no neck, inched forward nervously as Mr. Harper picked up the device. A moment later, he stood tall again, although his eyes moved toward Lord McCallister and the Prince.


Noticing the subtly odd behavior of the guard, Anna turned her head slightly to look at Robert with concern. She did not want to interrupt the presentation unnecessarily, but this seemed unconventional. At the same time, McCallister leaned over toward the Prince and whispered something inaudible from the Senators’ position. Meanwhile, Chief Engineer Harper was still stalking.


“Not only has this design told us that Synge developed a new way of blending and forging metals - a method we are currently attempting to duplicate - but... if you look at the body, it is larger than it needs to be for the design.” He started stepping toward the throne with the mechanical spider in hand. “There is a space, you see, one perfectly suited..”


At that point, Prince Harold stepped forward to stand between Mr. Harper and the King with a serious expression on his face. He looked down on the Chief Engineer with a clearly protective expression on his face.


Anna had begun to step forward, too, and Mr. Harper and Anna spoke over each other.


“Your Highness, what seems to be the issue? I only wanted -- ”


“Your Majesty, this device is dangerous -- ”


The Prince looked sharply at Anna, his eyebrows lifted slightly in reaction to her words. Behind him, King Geoffrey sat forward on his throne, curious. “Whatever demonstration you intend to conduct, it can be done at a reasonably safe distance from my father, the King.” Then he turned his gaze on Anna. “Ms. Stroud, do you have something to add?”


Now standing a short distance from Mr. Harper and the Prince, Anna lifted her chin and addressed the Prince and the King. “The Engineers gave plans to Mr. White and I for examination. We cannot be certain, but...”


Mr. Harper had started walking back to the table at the Prince’s suggestion. He set the prototype down carefully on the table before wheeling to interrupt Ms. Stroud. “Will you please allow me to complete my presentation?!” His face was turning red. The guards adjusted the position of the prototype behind him, exchanging a brief glance of surprise at the Chief Engineer’s loss of composure. “As I was saying,” Mr. Harper said, smoothing out the jacket of his coat. “There is a compartment inside the body of the spider. We wondered at first if this might be meant as a form of transportation...”
 
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Robert acknowledge Anna's apprehension when she turned to him, and it was as if she were echoing his own emotions. A pang of discomfort erupted inside of him as the prototype was lifted from its position on the center table, but Robert felt like all he could do was remain still. His mind began to worry what the Engineer planned to execute, and of course, the worst was first to arrive; that Clint Harper intended to blow the King to pieces. A monarchist instinct was about to kick in, until Anna suddenly taken her own course of action.


Prince Harold had also taken a protective position, and then the two spoke over one another. In some respects, Robert became more at ease, but in others it only made his anxiousness rise. Had Anna placed them at their own demise with her detailed set of words? Had they failed to execute their role in the presentation to save the nation? He was nearly holding his breath, preparing for the worst, but fate had given them a second chance. The young prince addressed Anna to recover herself, but of course, Chief Harper would have none of it. Robert's flat expression pushed into a scowl as the Engineer was disrespectful enough to simply interrupt what Ms. Stroud had to say. Indeed, it did not give any good light towards their presentation.


"How dare you," Robert boldly stated, speaking over Mr. Harper before he could continue any further. At first, the man in the maroon jacket seemed surprised to hear Mr. White's outburst, but his expression quickly settled into a scowl.


"Please, Senator White, we have no more room for interruptions. May I continue?" he swiftly replied, trying to contain his annoyance, though it was obvious to say his attempts were falling short.


"No, you may not. The Prince did not address you, did he? So why in your right mind do you believe you are allowed to continue?" The final part of his statement could have been looked at ironically, for someone to desire the death of the King was most certainly not in their right mind. Unaware of how to react to the male senator's response, the royal party simply watched from afar. Robert held his infamous glare with the Chief Engineer, unlocking it only when he knew it would be proper for them to continue.


"Very well then," Mr. Harper finally submitted after clearing his throat. "We will allow you to enlighten us with your findings," he finished, making dramatic movements with his hands and arms. Subtly, Mr. White rolled his eyes.


"Here are the documents Ms. Stroud had been referring to earlier," he calmly spoke as he gently pulled the papers from the inside of his jacket. He noticed some of the Engineers grimace at the poorly conducted manner they had been stored in. As he began to unfold them, he made his way over to the table with the prototype, then placed them upon the surface to compare the actual model with their notes. This action had been prosecuted quickly enough that Robert didn't even notice the newly lit fuse beneath the folds of the papers. His oblivion caused a subtle, sinister smirk to curl itself over McCallister's lips. "You had clearly mentioned that this compartment was created for transportation services," Robert began to describe as he motioned toward the machine, and looked toward the Engineers.


"Yes, that is correct," Mr. Harper plainly responded.


"What exactly for?" Robert slowly eased, hoping he would be able to push the truth of the Engineers without endangering the life of his partner and his own.


"Well, had you allowed us to finish, Senator White," Mr. Harper coldly replied, "we would have been able to inform you that our first assumption was incorrect. The compartment is simply to support the other mechanical devices."


"I think you're lying." Robert's statement drew curious expressions from every angle of the room.


"And how is that, dear Senator?" the Chief nearly interrupted.


Mr. White let off a visible sigh, meant to appear as if he were letting off steam, but in truth he was dissipating his anxiety. "My father worked as a coal miner in Ashington-"


"This is no time for personal stories, Senator White!" Mr. Harper hindered as he began to loose his composure once again.


"A fact I do not like to embrace, Mr. Harper," Robert glared, "but one that has given me a small amount of insight."


"And what would you know of the mechanical world?" the Engineer practically mocked.


"Please, let him continue, Mr. Harper!" the Prince interjected, receiving him punishing looks from his father and McCallister.


When Mr. White had lain down the papers he collected from Anna's, he decided to exclude the edits Andrei had given them. "I happen to understand the basic logistics of mining technology." This time Mr. Harper did not speak. "When we reviewed the documents you had given us, I had noticed something particularly interesting. Mr. Synge's design greatly resembled those of the devices my father would use to demolish sections of the mine. However, the designs were only similar," he emphasized. As he spoke, he made motions mainly toward the papers before him. "There was something odd about this particular section of the diagram, something didn't quite add up."


"Well, that is because the type of device that you speak of, Senator, would be dysfunctional under those proportions," Mr. Harper noted, speaking in turn.


"And what of the design before us?" Robert questioned. "Does the make of the model correspond to these prints?"


"Your curiosity become you, Senator. What makes you think this product is meant for underground mines?"


"Simply because I could not think of any other device that would be constructed under these conditions, Mr. Harper. Can you?" He gave a serious look towards the Chief, and for a moment he believed there had been a sign of hesitation, but his faith was disproved.


"Enough with this," Mr. Harper dismissed, seemingly upset. "You have just insulted the engineering world, Mr. White," he continued to rage. "You do not believe that we have provided you with honest information?" Internally, Robert had laughed to himself as his words struck the center of their target's purpose. "Basic logistics indeed. There are many other advanced, mechanical devices that are created under identical proportions, even to this day. However, I fear I have no time to list them to you. Now, please allow my men and I to continue." Mr. Harper gave off a dark glare, crushing Robert's hopes. Had they made the wrong assumptions? Did Andrei fail to notice the pattern that Mr. Harper had just described to him, or was this simply part of their ploy? With their lack of expertise, it would be hard for them to know.


Clint Harper cleared his throat once more, and adjusted the monocle just above his cheek. "So, as we were explaining before, we believed the lower compartment was used for transportation." He slowly began to walk about, away from the prototype and table. Mr. White, however, remained in his spot, and continued to read over the documents and analyse the figure. He understood that his efforts would most likely fail him, but it seemed there was nothing else he could accomplish while the Engineers continued to advance.


Suddenly a strange yet oddly familiar sulfuric smell reached his nose, and Robert lifted his head from his work. He looked around, and the smell continued to grow stronger and stronger and stronger by the second. Memories of Ashington began to flood his mind, and it wasn't until moments later when he realized what had been occurring.


Then he heard a heavy boom.
 
Anna stood with uplifted eyebrows as Mr. Harper interrupted her and the Prince, insisting on continuing his presentation. She might have interrupted, but Robert did so for her in true monarchist fashion. She did her utmost to appear calm as Robert fetched the plans they had brought with them as a last resort. They were on dangerous ground, and she had been the first to tread there. She only hoped that Robert would not suffer for following her lead in this regard.


Nor did she like the idea of him being so close to the prototype that she considered dangerous. She stood near the prince as Robert and Mr. Harper began to bicker. The Prince was drawn forward to examine the designs. Meanwhile, she was watching the two Engineers standing behind the table. They looked nervous, which could easily be attributed to the tension between their Chief Engineer and Mr. White. Yet she could not escape the feeling that there was more to it.


She listened to Robert and Mr. Harper, but her eyes kept going back to the Engineers. She realized then that they were slowly backing up. Her head tilted in confusion until the Prince stepped to one side to get a better view of the diagrams. Then she saw the prototype sticking out from the pages and a hint of smoke from behind the table. Her eyes went wide as she ran forward. She could not think of what to yell, but she knew what she must do.


Her primary concern should have been Prince Harold. Rationally, he was the most important person near the table and probably the target (if not the King himself). Her feet disagreed with her, though, stubbornly refusing to focus on the Prince. Instead, she grabbed Robert’s hand first, pulling him away from the table. “It’s lit!” was she managed as she grabbed for the Prince’s hand as well, but too late. She and Robert tumbled to the ground, with her landing indelicately atop him as the feel of heat rushed over them. The plans were partially destroyed, landing in little bits of ash and paper atop them.


Luckily the Prince had been warned by her rush toward the table and turned away. He could have easily been killed, but he appeared only injured. Chaos swarmed around them as the King’s Guard ushered King Geoffrey out of the room and picked up the groaning Prince. Anna looked down at Robert before rolling off of him to sit inelegantly on the floor, waving away the cloud of smoke that hovered in the room. “Are you hurt?” she asked, concerned for his recent injuries. Luckily, she had landed on his non-injured side, but that might not matter much.
 
Just as the explosion had gone off, he felt something drag his form away from the table. Fragments of the finely crafted wood burst from their source, and scattered along the finely polished stone. Smoke gathered in clouds above the table, or where the table once was, then diffused throughout the remaining air of the throne room. Through the odorous smoke, the guards' incredible reflexes guided the Prince and his father away from further threats, and the Blackcastle Engineers scrambled around, belatedly trying to search for cover.


Robert felt his back slam against the ground, and was unable to brace himself as Anna followed him. It was only then when he realized she had been the one who pulled him away from the explosives. By now the smoke had filtered itself over the entire room, making it difficult to see and breath. "No, no, I'm all right. You?" Robert managed to groan as he sat himself up. His heart wildly pounded against his chest, and the tone of his breathing became desperate. Robert wasn't particularly sure why. He placed his hand over his chest, and started to take in deep breaths, despite the surrounding pollution.


When his calming tactic succeeded, he turned to look where the table had been, and felt a rush of disappointment. All of their evidence to prove the Engineers guilty, completely gone. The documents were no more than filthy strips of ash. Rage began to build inside Robert as he started to shun himself. How could he have been so foolish? Robert convinced himself that he should have seen this act coming, they should have been more careful, but he screwed it up. It became clear from his facial expressions that he had been upset by something. He wanted to scream in protest, but what good would that have done them?


He could see the last group of Engineers being escorted out of the throne room through the thick smoke as he slowly picked himself up from the ground. His lungs let out another series of coughs as they struggled to filter the dirt born of the same ash that smeared itself on the sleeves of his jacket. King Roghan and Prince Harold had been removed from the throne room many moments ago, and by the time Robert was at a full stance, all of the Engineers had departed as well. Mr. White took one last moment to take in his surroundings, or as much as he could through the relentless fog.


The scene around him felt apocalyptic, like everything was slowly coming to an end. His back had been facing Anna while he scanned the area, and he readied himself to give the woman an apology. Perhaps not an expected action, but something he felt was necessary. They had gone in, thinking they would prevail to take down the Blackcastle Engineers, but ended failing in the most miserable way. Just as he was about to do so, McCallister's shadow was spotted in the distance, making an approach. The male senator paused, wondering what manner of news the adviser had in store.
 
The smoke was thinning quickly, but it still burned in Anna’s throat, triggering a coughing fit. She nodded first at Robert’s question, then managed a scratchy, “I am fine,” as she attempted to get her bearings. The skirt of her dress was ripped and torn in several places from bits of metal and wood launched by the explosion, but she did not think much of it at the time.


Lord McCallister could be heard nearby, ordering the Kings’ Guard about. “Fetch the Prince to a safe location and summon the physician.” The sound of booted feet followed. She saw the same shadowed figure approach, wondering where Mr. Harper and the other Engineers had gone. No doubt they had been carried away by the King’s Guard as well. Perhaps they were only left because they were the lowest to the ground.


Anna started to stand, but paused. At the motion, her legs protested, and she belatedly realized the warmth on her legs was likely bleeding from small cuts. She felt her legs through the skirt and winced slightly; nothing appeared broken, and by some miracle no large pieces were lodged in her flesh, but she had suffered some minor scrapes.


Then McCallister was hovering over them and offering Anna his hand for assistance. Confident that her injuries were minor and given that it would not do to lift her skirt in front of Robert and Lord McCallister to examine the damage, she took it and allowed him to help her to her feet. “Was the Prince hurt?” she asked, looking in the direction where the guards had already disappeared with Prince Harold.


Lord McCallister’s expression turned sour. “Yes, although it appears he avoided the worst of it,” the King’s advisor said as he offered a hand to Robert as well. “Thanks to you.” His disagreeable expression almost made it seem like he was disappointed, but she was certain he was just upset about what had happened. This could easily be considered an attempt on the King’s life. A second one, to those who believed the bullet in the Market Square had been meant for her.


Regardless of whether Robert accepted his assistance, Lord McCallister fell easily into the role of an emissary accustomed to speaking for the King. “Aneora is again in your debt, Senators,” he said, looking between them, then to the destroyed table at hand. “I can only imagine what would have happened if it had not been for your insight and willingness to act quickly.” He shuddered and looked at Anna, who was doing her best to stand upright. Slowly a grateful, nearly admiring smile blossomed on his face. “Quite remarkable, really.” Then he looked to Mr. White. “And you, Sir; still recovering from your prior injuries! There is no need for us to detain you here.” His face grew serious as he continued. “I suspect the King’s Guard will take some time questioning Mr. Harper and the others, as well they should. Go home and rest.”


He started ushering them slowly toward the main door through which they had entered. “I will inform the King you are at his disposal. They will fetch you or send someone to you to collect your accounts in due time, but for now, rest and recover, reassured that you have the gratitude of the nation and your King.”


He waved to a guard who had returned to the room. “You there! Tomas, is it? Yes! Will you see the Senators safely to their ship?” He gave them both a regretful look. “Please forgive me. I would accompany you myself, but there are duties that I must tend to immediately. I am sure you understand.”
 
The adviser had thanked Robert for a good deed he seemingly did. What McCallister probably failed to realize was that had Robert remained in his position aside Anna during the presentation, the drama would never have followed. What Mr. White failed to realize was it was McCallister's intentions for the explosive to happen the way it did, just without Robert's inconvenient interruption. What made it worse for Robert is that no one realized who the attack was meant for in Market Square. It had been for Ms. Stroud, not for the King. He saved the woman famously known to counter act his every move, not the King. Now people would falsely see him as some kind of divine, and that disgusted him. It wasn't because he did not appreciate god like attention, but it was upsetting for him to be seen by his followers as something he wasn't.


Robert would liked to have protested against McCallister's statement, but he was certain that the information relating to Market Square had not been release, and nor would it be the appropriate time to. Instead he simply nodded, and listened to the rest of what he had to report. At least the result had taken a more appealing turn than instant execution. Clint Harper and his team of engineers would receive the actions they deserved for falsely identifying the machines function, and Mr. White and Ms. Stroud would earn the respect of the nation. Still, Robert was not confident. He wouldn't allow himself to be fully relived. Not until he knew precisely what the decision over the works of Elijah Synge came to.


McCallister only lead them as far as the arch way into the throne room, then recruited a nearby soldier to escort the senators the remainder of the way. Walking had come quickly for Robert, probably due to the extra aid he held in hand, but Anna's stride seemed less than sufficient. He had noticed her earlier struggling just to stand on her own two feet. It wasn't until then, as they began to traverse back over the suspended bridge, when Mr. White recalled that Anna had been the one to tug him away from the site of the explosion. Had she suffered more injuries than he had? Admittedly, Robert became curious. His pace was obviously slower, making sure he would not leave his senate counter part behind. It took the guard a few tries to understand what had been happening, but eventually Thomas caught on, and decreased the speed of his own travel as well.


"You are limping," he directly stated in a low voice, only meant for Ms. Stroud to hear. They had reached the airship at this point, and Thomas swiftly departed, eager to tend to other, significant duties. Andrei had noticed their approach when they turned the corner just earlier, and approached the two senators from the deck of the ship.


"Hell's bells, what happened?" he spoke, concerned over their distraught state. His eyebrows were pinned upward in worry as his eyes scanned the entire length of Anna's dress.


"We'll explain later," Robert proposed, not wanting to risk the potential of scoping eavesdroppers. He hoped the serious expression he wore would get his point across, and that the younger man would refrain from arguing with him. "Start the ship."
 
Anna concentrated as Lord McCallister spoke. It took more of her faculties than it should, which concerned her. As did the chill in her hands and the warmth on her legs, but she did her best to keep pace with both the conversation and their subsequent journey back to the ship. Grateful that their revelation of the machine’s purpose was not considered an immediate threat to the throne, she pressed her hands together as they walked, occasionally glancing down at them and wondering if the hollow, airy sensation in her chest was worthy of concern.


The walk, while not terribly taxing, also required deliberate effort on her part. She focused on the end goal: getting to Andrei and the ship and reaching home. Only when Robert turned and spoke quietly to her did she realize that he was correct: she was not walking normally. She glanced down at her damaged skirt and nodded just as Andrei called out to them. Her eyes remained fixated on her dress for a moment.


Meanwhile, Andrei had caught both Robert’s tone and the look of detached observation on Anna’s face. He nodded. “Ready the sails!” he called out to the minimal crew on board. As they launched into motion on the deck in response to his command, he stepped off the ship to Anna’s side and offered her his arm, which she took. She looked at him with a mixture of relief and confusion in her gaze as he walked her onboard the ship.


He covered her hand with his and looked between the two Senators. To Anna, he said gently, “Your hands are cold...” Then he looked past her to fix his gaze on Mr. White, questions and accusations mixed in that gaze. He led her to a seat, speaking to her gently. “Let’s get you comfortable.” She went along without comment or complaint.


Once she was seated, Andrei looked at Mr. White, turning so that his back was to Anna and she might not see his face. “What in blazes happened?” he asked with clear frustration. He glanced around the ship, noting the progress made by the others on the ship. With a glance up at the palace, he shook his head. “Belay that. I’ll get us underway.” He motioned toward Anna. “Stay with her,” he ordered as he headed for the ship’s wheel.
 
As the sails were prepared, Robert lifted himself onto the deck of the airship with the aid of his cane, just before Andrei had assisted Anna. From what he could observe, she did not look well. Robert's previous speculation, that she received injuries more significant than could be seen, was beginning to look more probable.


Safely, Robert set his cane, hat and jacket by one of the corners of the ship, and made sure it would not interfere with the crew's work. Winds from the movement of the airship would cool him quickly, but the stress that had accumulated over the past events caused his body to sweat. The gel in his hair had broken their hold from the force of the explosion, leaving the strands to fall back in their natural, wavy state. Try as he might, the locks would not obey his desire to pull back in the usual manner. Had his mother been there to see him, she would have had a heart attack, believing her husband had been recruited from his grave. In defeat, Robert let out a sigh.


In that moment, Andrei had come up to him in a frustrated state. Robert would have willingly answered his question, but the young man commanded him to do otherwise, and sit beside Anna. He watched as the anxious mechanic walked off to control the wheel before turning towards Ms. Stroud.


Seeing the woman go into shock was... unnerving. Robert was never the best dealing with others under threatening, stressful conditions. He worried for Ms. Stroud, however, but what would he be able to do to comfort her? Follow the example of his deceased father and hand her a drink? That would be the last thing Anna would need, probably at any given time. His other parent was the better example, but Robert did not own the motherly qualities to tend to Anna in gentler manners.


His worries surrounded him as he walked closer towards Anna's sitting position, unable to think of any proper response towards her current state. While the stress of the project continued to haunt him, it wouldn't be wise for him to break apart beside her. At least one of them need to be in a fairly excusable condition. The wounds over his chest were still healing, but the initial fatigue had long passed. Anna, on the other hand, appeared far from normal.


He sat down beside her, slowly, with an appropriate amount of space between them. His hands calmly folded in his lap, and he turned toward Anna with an apologetic expression. Robert feared speaking of the project would only exaggerate her condition, but he was at a loss.


Crew workers flew around them, adjusting sails and ropes as the sound of the ship's motor roared to life. Andrei still stood at the front of the ship, and directed his crew accordingly. Eventually, they took flight, and Andrei cut the motor to allow the heavy winds guide their way home. The strong breeze pushed all of Robert's hair to one side, exposing the new layer of dark gray that would make its full appearance as he aged. He still looked toward Anna, still unsure of what to say, still afraid of what would come.
 
The fresh air, cool and refreshing as it was, chilled Anna to the bone. Being ushered about by Andrei was not her usual habit, but it felt right today. Or, more precisely, she could not muster enough energy or intellect to object. She heard every word uttered around and about her, a calm observer of a process that seemed inconsequential for the moment. It was like watching a play: noting the language and posture used to enact a specific result, but Andrei and Robert - and even the guard, Tomas - represented caricatures in her mind, exaggerations to be studied for their meaning and nuance - but only analytically.


She knew this to be abnormal, of course, just as she recognized that her instinct to save Robert over the Prince was probably a sign of something she should be concerned about. As was the minor throbbing pain in her legs. At the moment, however, she was having a hard time doing much at all except pressing her hands together to keep them from shaking.


Robert sat next to her, his discomfort - or was that concern? - evident in his posture. As they took to the skies, she met his gaze, at a loss for what to say. After a long moment of observing her breath, her heartbeat, and the oddly electric tension between them, she opened her mouth to speak but shut it almost immediately, realizing she had nothing specific to say. Then, “I think, perhaps, my legs suffered a scrape or two.” With an oddly detached form of motion, she bent over to lift her skirts up enough reveal her calves, which were, in fact, decorated with minor scrapes and a few splinters.


In a nearly apologetic tone, she tried to normalize the situation in her mind through mundane conversation. “Did Lord McCallister say that the Prince is unharmed?”
 
Robert had to remind himself of Anna's current condition before he allowed his lips to gap in pure shock. "The Prince suffers from minor injuries, but nothing fatal," he permitted himself say after logical reasoning vacuumed away his astonishment. The wind pushed a lock of hair in his eye, and he quickly pushed it away. "The King is fine as well," he added, purely to prevent their conversation from falling into a deep pit of ineptitude.


Anna's distress was unavoidable. He noticed the goosebumps that ruthlessly crawled against her tan skin, and the slight tremor among her hands. It would have been gentlemanly of Robert to fetch his jacket to repair her comfort, or to place his hands over own to ease the anxious repulsion, but he played neither action. As appealing as his options were, he did not want to cause an upset within the pilot or fellow senator, and used his better judgement. Others might have called it cowardice.


"He also stated that the Blackcastle Engineers would be placed under question." This was his attempt to bright joyful light in their situation. From his perspective, his own efforts failed. Andrei had commenced their flight just minutes ago; heading back South would take them a couple hours at least. "We are at the disposal of the King."





His abnormally, inadequate amount of eloquence concerned him. The pilot seemed to noticed Robert's strange interactions, or was the younger man simply looking in their direction at convenient moments? Whatever the reason, it did not aide to ease his nerves. Again, Robert struggled. He struggled against the odd strain that leaked from their current circumstances, and his developing, covert emotions towards Anna.
 
As expected, Robert offered comfort in the form of factual reassurance. The King's health and well-being were the center of his world; no doubt he found solace in the fact that the King and Prince were safe, and ready to decree the next order. Meanwhile, he offered nothing tangible to the woman beside him. Anger blazed to life, hot but short lived. On some level, she recognized that her emotions were spiraling out of control, washing over her like the sea in a storm. Fortunately she had ample practice at schooling her expression and reactions. A moment of silence, then ten, and finally a minute had passed with nothing appropriate to say. Then five minutes, and she found herself detached from the anger and concern that had plagued her so only a few minutes hence.


Eventually Andrei came to them, offering blankets to them both against the chill air. Anna took hers with a grateful nod, and even allowed him to call one of his crew over to look at her injuries. Surprisingly gentle, apparently the man served as a medic aboard many vessels. Anna occupied herself during the trip with replaying the events at the audience in her mind. A slight fog remained around some details, but she could not escape the feeling they had missed something vital. While she could easily have attributed that to the eventual outcome, she wanted to leave no stone unturned. Thus she closed her eyes and walked into the room over and over again, attempting to recall any minute detail that might relieve her discontent.


Only as they neared the Senate building much later did she feel she had the right questions, if not the answers. She opened her eyes and found Robert. "We should find a private place to talk. I have questions."

~ * ^ * ~

​



The Roghan Palace

​



The afternoon sun cast shadows across the Prince's bed as well as the man sitting in the high-backed chair beside it. The room had been decorated in the colors of Aneora's royalty, and the crimson in particular seeped into every corner through reflection and the power of their presence. King Geoffrey Roghan had always thought it morbid, the pervasiveness of the color of blood throughout the royal palace. As a child, he had run through the halls, imagining the creeping red shadows to be the result of vanquishing Aneora's enemies. When his father had passed, those same shadows had haunted his coronation and mourning.


What was it to be King? It was the ceaseless burden of your blood and birthright. And now his son, his Harold, had spilled that blood upon the floor of the throne room.


Someone had to pay.


The guards had attempted to keep him from his son. They had dared to toss his own words back at him: that wisdom lay in separation of the royal family members, for not only might enemies target them in one place, but the Prince might covet the throne. It would be wise to see to His Majesty’s safety first, they had said. He had set them straight, of course. Only by his son’s side had he realized how muddled his thinking had become. No, he was not ready to forfeit the throne. Not yet. But losing his son was not a viable alternative, either.


He had stayed by Harold’s bed as the physician tended to his wounds. Despite the bloody mess in the throne room, the injuries were largely superficial. A few cuts and burns to his chest and arms and some minor abrasions to his face, which of course bled more due to their location. The physician had given Harold something to help him sleep, and now Geoffrey sat at his son’s side, holding his hand as if he were a young boy, not a man in his own right. He felt every year of his age and then some at that moment.


Lord McCallister’s presence went unnoticed for minutes before the man cleared his throat softly. “Your Majesty, forgive me.”


The King looked up from his vigil, the initial anger at the interruption melting away as he saw his trusted adviser’s hesitancy. Douglas understood and demonstrated the appropriate contrition for his interruption. King Geoffrey maintained his hold on his son’s hand as he nodded to indicate both his clemency and permission for his adviser to speak.


“Your Guard placed the Engineers into custody immediately. I have personally overseen the initial interviews, and I fear I must bring a matter to your immediate attention.” His eyes flitted to the prone form of Prince Harold, then back to the King.


King Geoffrey sighed under his breath, but nodded. “What is the matter?”


Lord McCallister stepped forward, his head hanging low. “It is about the Senators, Your Majesty.” The King released Harold’s hand, his lips and brow both curving downward. McCallister pressed on. “They have been implicated.”


The King shook his head. “That makes no sense! Why, Mr. White saved me from an assassin only the other week. Why would he make an attempt on my life now?”


McCallister hesitated before he spoke softly. “The target was not your life, Your Majesty.”


Geoffrey looked to his son, tears forming in his eyes as his face grew red with anger.


“It may be a fabrication, of course. The guard claims Mr. White felt your son unworthy of the throne... for some reason.” He shook his head. “And I did not realize its importance at the time, but Ms. Stroud did call out ‘it’s lit’ at the last moment: she knew the device’s purpose.” He paused, closing his eyes and taking a weighty breath before continuing. “I summoned them to discuss the matter, of course. But...”


The King stood, his hands fists at his side. “But what?” he asked as his adviser failed to continue.


“But... they have fled, Your Highness.”
 
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Chapter XII

Anna had not replied to him verbally. This made Robert briefly believe he had given her the wrong information, but her question had been rather clear. He must not have been used to the woman having nothing say, whether her words held importance. Together, they sat in complete silence. He searched her for any clues that would reveal any piece of her thoughts through a side-ward glance. He gained nothing. The events that had just transpired were not easy to absorb, and the rate which the they had occurred by was nearly unfathomable. True, they had not been given much notice prior to the Blackcastle Engineer's presentation, but that was not what surprised him, at least in relation. What concerned Robert more was the presentation back in the throne room. During his light pondering, his eyes remained fix on Ms. Stroud.


Andrei left his post by the bow of the ship, and approached them to offer blankets, causing Mr. White's thoughts to break and his glance to swoop downward. He accepted the sheet with a vacant expression, and placed it beside him. The winds still did not bother him, or if they did, he would not have removed his jacket and hat. No, it did not bother him from the beginning, and it did not bother him for the rest of their flight. With nothing better to occupy himself (he had given up his analysis over the royal scene), he periodically stood up to stretch his legs, then calmly returned to sit beside Anna. Their journey might have taken a few hours at the most, but it nearly felt like an entire day had passed. Robert stood from his place once more to fetch his things, which still sat in the back corner of the ship. Swiftly, he reequipped himself, then headed back toward his seat.


"We should find a private place to talk. I have questions."


He had been in the midst of closing his jacket, and simply nodded his head.


~ ~ ~



​



Disbelief swallowed the King. "But... How can this be? No, there must be another reason. He saved me! Why should there be any underlying grudges against my son?"





McCallister allowed the King's temper to settle before speaking. "It is a hard matter for both of us to accept, Your Highness," he paused as new pieces of his devious ideas began to form. "Why, who knows if Senator White's actions were even genuine!"


"Nonsense, McCallister!"


"A whole ploy against the entire Royal family!" Subtly he started to incorporate dramatic actions to push along his own ruse, and stepped closer to comfort the King. "Yes, don't you see? Ms. Stroud, she's behind all of this... corruption." He shuddered at the word. "She must have convinced Mr. White to be at her disposal, the Chief Monarchist of your own senate, deceived! And to think he was aiding her to offer political equality in the research of Elijah Synge." McCallister's ideas were radical, but King Roghan hung on his every word. His adviser continued for several moments to twist the latest events against their senators. The faults of the Blackcastle Engineers had been long forgotten.


"And, as I mentioned earlier, the woman knew it was going to explode! She wasn't warning him," he gestured towards the sleeping Prince. "She was warning him! Her puppet!" His ideas, still uncompromisingly twisted, were logical enough to convince the King.


Suddenly, the young man relieved a groan from his slumber, and the King's attention had been turned.


"Your Highness," McCallister spoke again after clearing his throat. "Forgive me for being rash, but we must know a course of action."





The King's eyes still rested over his son. "Find them," he strongly declared. "Find them."


~ ~ ~



​



It had been quickly agreed that they would discuss their questions in the deeper regions of the West Wing, where many, separated meeting rooms were located. Mr. White instructed Andrei to dock the airship near the back of the building, however, so they could avoid as much attention as possible. Robert was still dusted with coal, and Anna appeared even worse. To his relief, no one had been present during their landing. Steadily, Mr. White departed the ship, and waited for Andrei to assist Anna. When she was ready, Robert guided them around to the West Wing. He refrained from using his cane as they entered the building, fearing the light clicking noises against the polished tile would draw unwanted glances.


When it felt that they had walked far enough from the rest of the senate, they swiftly ducked into one of the nearest meeting rooms. It was small, cozy almost. Dark leather arm chairs lightly lined the room's perimeter, and a single coffee table was situated in the center. He closed the door.


"Shall we begin?" he spoke as he turned towards Ms. Stroud with a serious gaze. "You had questions."
 
With a clear head, Anna disembarked the ship. Andrei took a moment to reassure her that the ship would be waiting for her whenever she needed it. She thanked him, emphasizing that she was quite recovered from the earlier events and he need not worry. Simultaneously familiar and foreign, the walk into the Senate building held a surreal quality about it. Robert held his cane rather than using it, a detail her mind focused on, as if that were the strangest aspects of today’s events. As she had on the ship, she did her best to oberve the odd workings of her mind and stay focused on the task at hand.


At least her hands had stopped shaking.


She entered the small room Robert selected, but did not take a seat. Motion promised her an epiphany, if she would only submit to its demands. As he turned to face her, Anna paused only briefly to ask the question that had been plaguing her for the last portion of their journey here. “Why?” He hand made lazy motions in the air between them, erasing the simplicity and ambiguity of that question as she began to pace. “I keep coming back to the events in the throne room. Mr. Harper might be many things, but he never struck me as a zealot. In fact,” she paused long enough to meet Robert’s eyes. “If pressed, would define him a self-serving man, one who sought power. And no man who could climb to his station among the Engineers is dimwitted.” She shook her head and began to move once more, making a slow circle around the coffee table as she held her hand in front of her, palm upwards. “He approached the King like this, with the prototype upon his palm.”


Again she stopped, this time facing Robert before she approached him slowly, much as Mr. Harper had done with the King. “If he meant to kill the King, he would not survive.” The imaginary prototype forgotten, she tossed her hand into the air. “To what purpose? If he is working with an enemy of Aneora? If so, what could he possibly hope to gain? He has no family. He would be dead, branded a traitor!” Anna held her index finger up in the space between them and shook it as she emphasized her points. “No. He could not have known about the prototype being armed. So... his men, then? But they could not count on Mr. Harper carrying it to the King.” Her finger had begun to fall to her side, but it suddenly rose again as she interrupted herself. “And for that matter, if I am correct... It was unlit when he picked it up. He undoubtedly would have noticed the smoking fuse. So one of his men must have lit it back at the table...”


She paused, looking at Robert with concern. “Were you the target? Was I? Or the Prince? It makes no sense. And until we can figure it out, how can we be certain that the King is safe? Or that we are, for that matter?”
 
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With a strong stance beneath him, Robert observed Anna as she started to speak. In many aspects, her questions reflected his own thoughts. What were Mr. Harper's real intentions? A question they had asked from the very beginning. Robert believed they would have had their answer by now, but the manifestation was clear; they were still searching in the dark. The end of his cane rose in a tactful motion as Anna passed him while she traced around the coffee table. No ideas about past events had come to him; the action was purely instinct.


Anna stopped, and brought her hand towards his visage. Robert's stagnant glare rested upon her open palm as his thoughts followed every detail. True, had the device still been in his possession, he would not have survived the explosion, but perhaps he had other intentions. And yes, the device was not activated until it had been placed back onto the table. It couldn't have been. Robert was sure he would have sensed the stingy, phosphoric aroma much earlier than he had. He kept these minute details in mind.


Her last string of words nearly made his heart jump, but it was a reasonable assumption. She was right, none of it made sense, and Robert had the strange feeling that none of it would ever make sense. The project held a relentless nature. Every discovery they made, every question they answered, quest they completed, the unknown was born. Like fighting a Hydra of unanswerable riddles; the task was impossible, yet they were too stubborn and oblivious to realize that.


He paused.


"Let us make the assumption that no one is safe," Robert finally spoke, looking directly at Ms. Stroud. "I was not the target. I do not see any benefit behind such a morbid deed. It would be just as foolish for someone to attempt a second assassination against you." He paused again, this time the silence seemed to drag for a longer period of time. Both of his hands were wrapped around the smooth orb that garnished his staff. "If Mr. Harper desired to injure the King, I believe he would have done so in a divergent nature," he continued, relating to Anna's previous comments. "Let me start by saying that I completely agree with your first statement about Mr. Harper; he does not seem like the radical type, certainly the last person to come to my mind for a martyr. You had demonstrated before, he held the object out like so," he replayed the demonstration briefly, using his cane a sort of prop. "When one shows an offering to royalty, they present themselves like this," he made another display, then he lowered his arms again. Of course, being an anarchist, these sort of details wouldn't truly matter to Anna. "He knew very well the device was armed, but not lit. It does not take an engineer to see that." This idea was supported by his own basic knowledge of mining technology, and Anna's observation before the explosion, though belated. "Assuming Mr. Harper is the type of man we've agreed him to be, and assuming he would keep to monarchist behavior, his intentions were not directed to the King.


"Claiming that the Prince was his primary target is an appropriate inference, but I cannot lay down my confidence until we find a reason why such action had been carried out. " Although, had Anna all ready given mention to his cause? Was Mr. Harper working for a force of traitors against their nation? Then the question came; why would Mr. Harper betray Aneora? Was it for his own benefit, someone else's? Was there a secretive dictator looking to wipe Aneora of its political power, and preserve it as their own? Why? Why? Why? Why?


His eyes squinted and his head turned toward the floor as he pondered over his own thoughts. The cycle of questions was infuriating. Perhaps it was impossible for him to understand threats against the Monarchy, because he was a believer of their political power. Slowly, he turned his gaze back up to Anna, pressing for anarchist input.
 
Anna’s mind kept circling the same question. Robert’s logic was sound: Prince Harold was the most likely target, although she could not - would not - entirely dismiss the possibility that Robert had been the target. He certainly had been at the greatest risk when one of the guards had lit the fuse. “Let us assume, for the moment, Prince Harold to be the target. I still cannot discern the purpose. Who would want him dead, and to what end?”


There were obvious candidates, of course. Aneora was not without its enemies. Yet the nation’s geography had protected them for centuries. Had something changed? She looked upward, as if she could see through the ceiling to the skies above Aneora. No, there could be no invasion. Aneora’s skyships surpassed all others in maneuverability, speed, and the ability to cross distances. Or so they had been taught. Had things changed?


“No,” she said mostly to herself. “It cannot be an invasion. Else why the attack on the monarchy? Why Prince Harold, and not the King? Or them both?” She looked back to Robert and suddenly his disheveled appearance struck her anew. He had done his best to straighten out his clothes, but the soot on his face and the state of his hair spoke volumes about just how badly this day had gone. That led her naturally to examine herself, at which point she had to fight back a fit of nervous laughter.


Then there came a knock at the door. Anna looked at Robert with a question in her gaze. She opened her mouth to ask him if he had informed anyone of their presence when the intern, Edward Leek, opened the door and stepped inside, his arms waving frantically. “Is anyone here?” He froze in the doorway, looking at the two lead senators with open shock then quickly composed himself enough to continue his dismayed expression of alarm. His words came so quickly they nearly ran together. “Senators! Please forgive the interruptions, but... you must get out! There’s...” He glanced over his shoulder down the hall. “An attack! Someone is attacking the Senate... they have... fire! And pistols! I need to warn the others... get out!” He started to shoo them out into the hallway, gesticulating wildly. There was, indeed, increased noise in the Senate building, the sound of many voices in alarm bouncing off the hard surfaces of the revered space.


Mr. Leek followed behind them, checking other doors as they went. “Quickly - out the back hall to the docks. They are coming from the other side of the building, so you should be safe. I’ll send others after you, but do not wait! Who knows what they have planned... first the attack on the King, and now this!”
 
Robert would have responded in a calm manner towards Anna's latest inference, but his opportunity was stolen. The door to their secluded meeting room burst open, nearly as suddenly as the spider's explosion, and Mr. Leek popped into the scene. Alarmed, Robert's head turned towards the frantic, young man. His words were barely comprehensible, but the meaning of his run together phrases was unfathomable. Mr. White would have interjected, but the intern instantly lead them out into the hallway. Still unaware of what was truly happening, Robert was ushered through the back of the building.


"Edward, what is all of this?!" Mr. White was finally able to speak as he grasped the young man's shoulder.


"This is not time for questions, Senators. You must leave, quickly! Don't worry about the others, they'll be all right. Just go... go!"





With no further exchanges, Edward departed, and the Senators headed towards the airship.


​


"Please, please!" the Chairman roared as he stood before a group of guards in the main entrance of the Senate Hall.

"By order of the King, we demand the possession of Robert Amos White and Anna Katarine Stroud!" the closest guard barked.

"I have seen neither Senator today," he stated, his mustache giving off a subtle wiggle. "Heavens, I haven't even Mr. White since his injury at Market Square! Their whereabouts are unknown to me!"


"They fled the palace just this afternoon proceeding a rather unfortunate event. The King requires their return, or they are to face grievous consequences." The guard stood beneath a bold stance, and held a long, spear like object in his right fist. As he spoke directly at Mr. Millberry, he maintained a deep expression.

The chairman shook his head, his plump hands cradling his head, and let off a sigh of exasperation. He lifted his face from his irritated position, and opened his mouth to speak, but paused as he spotted his intern running towards from the West Wing of the building. Out of breath, the young man delayed to compose himself.

"Mr. White... and Ms. ... Stroud," he heaved as he leaned over his knees.

"Where are they?" the head guard and the chairman seemed to speak simultaneously.

"I found them... in the West Wing, but..." he stopped again to catch his breath. Everyone around the room seemed to press him to continue. "They flew away," he motioned in the air with his hand. "On a large airship, near the South Wing. I told them the royal guards had arrived and wished to speak with them, and then they fled."




The guard's eyebrows pushed together, and his lips pressed together. "Are you certain?"


"Yes, I saw them leave with my very own eyes!" Edward confirmed. The expression over the guard's figure became tenser, and he turned to the men behind.

"Return to the ship!" he ordered.

"In the name of the King!" the other men roared, then marched out of Senate Hall. Chairman Millberry and other witnesses stood, frozen in shock, petrified of what might become of their head senators.


~ ~ ~



​



"An attack on Senate Hall?" Andrei queried, in disbelief over the act that had passed. They had been sailing for several minutes.


"Believe me, we are as shocked as you are," Robert spoke at a rather heightened pace. He swiftly paced the deck of the ship, and contemplated. "What in blazes is going on?!" Rather, he contemplated out loud.. "I have myself practically murdered, twice, and for what god damn reason?" he slapped the end of his cane against the floorboards before speaking again. "Because we believe we can somehow justify a dead man's intuition? Because we were foolish enough to think we could serve our country by excavating an ancient, dug up chamber filled with nothing but insects and dust?" A short list of profanities followed, and his face had turned a bright red. "The nerve of us!" Robert continued to rage. The tip of his cane hit against the wood once more, nearly landing on his own toe, and then it swung outward in close proximity to Anna's hip. "Blasted! How dare us!" This was not the end of his rage. He continued to traverse over the ship's deck, release profanities, and make alarming motions with the end of his cane.


Only a taste of where his temper could take him.
 
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