"A flower shop?" Aria said, signing one of the many concessions that passed across her table daily. "Refugees sometimes make really strange requests."

"These slaves have often been through hell to get here." Daemon replied from his desk. "If their requests aren't unreasonable, I don't see why we shouldn't accommodate them."

It had been two months since the celebrations for the first anniversary of the Revolution, and summer was preparing to fill the territory of the Free State of Eirinn with its warm rays of sunshine.

Aria had quickly become accustomed to the rhythms and responsibilities of her new role, and in a short time an interesting chemistry had formed between her and Daemon.

They respected each other, avoiding to interfere in their respective matters; the new Constitution moreover clearly established the duties and powers of one and the other, ensuring that disagreements almost never arose.

Perhaps Daemon was sometimes a little arrogant when trying to direct Aria's decisions, but she had enough personality and resourcefulness to avoid being walked all over.

"Has Minister Wallace delivered the latest financial report?"

"Everything is as expected. The Assembly has approved the budget and authorized the economic reform. After that, we should have enough funds to complete all the infrastructure projects we have planned."

"I thought you were exaggerating when you praised Mary and Borg, but I have to say that. Those two could extract money from rocks."

"Eirinn was not as bad as the Empire, but even here the tax collection tended to be a bit too generous towards the nobility. Now that we have introduced the proportional system the taxation is much more fair."

"I beg your pardon, Your Grace," Alfred said at that moment, entering the office. "A messenger has arrived from Hadowald, with a message from the Count of Marton to you and the Prime Minister. He is waiting in the throne room."



Of course, no one was naive enough to think that peace could last forever, and military development had received equal attention to economic and social affairs.

The Grand Army had further expanded, and its five Corps were permanently stationed in all strategic points of the nation near as many forts.

Only the Great Guard, which had also grown, resided permanently in Faria, as part of the elite corps intended to protect the Grand Duchess and the representatives of the nation.

In her dual role as Commander of the Great Guard and member of the Assembly, Scalia was always very busy, but she still found some time to continue practicing the art of the sword with Isabela.

"You're more distracted than usual today." the swordswoman said, noticing how easily she managed to knock her down

"It's not my fault. You know how I feel. I can't stand those two spending so much time together."

Isabela couldn't help but smile in amusement: "You really do seem like a jealous little girl."

Scalia, as usual, went into a rage: "Don't... don't get any strange ideas! I just don't trust her yet. Just a few months ago she tried to kill us, now she's even our sovereign. Why did we need a Grand Duchess?"

"You know that's just a facade. The Assembly makes all the decisions. She only has the power to reject them, and she's never done that yet."

"Besides, I don't like the fact that Daemon has put all those restrictions on the entry of slaves. I can understand that now that we're allies of the Empire it's difficult to help them escape like we used to, but I don't see why we're so strict about letting in even those who manage to get here on their own."

"It was inevitable. There are millions of slaves out there, and the Free State is not big enough to accommodate them all. But things are changing. Both Emperor Ademar and President Medici are doing what they can to abolish or at least humanize slavery."

A roar of gunfire brought both of them to look out from the terrace of the hanging garden that overlooked the palace courtyard.

Even in times of peace, the army had to continue to train and always be efficient and ready for battle. More and more infantry battalions were giving way to others armed with rifles and bayonets, and getting used to a completely different way of fighting took time and a lot of training.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to this way of waging war," Scalia said. "Striking from afar, without even looking your opponent in the eye..."

"What scares me most is how easily these weapons can kill. A sword blow or an arrow wound is often not lethal or can be healed, but even Lady Valera has difficulty healing the damage that rifles do to a person."

"During the battle at Solea, one of our soldiers accidentally hit me. Since I wasn't wearing the sacred armor, the wound healed on its own, but the feeling of the metal ball being pushed out of my arm... I thought I could handle the pain well, but that ordeal was very hard."

Not far away, Sylvie was taking care of the temple and assisting the faithful as she did every day.

With the reunification of Eirinn, she had effectively assumed the role of Archbishop at the service of the Montgomery Family, and now that the excommunication had been removed, she could preach and carry out her ecclesiastical duties in total freedom. Not that before she didn't do what her conscience commanded her anyway, but now she no longer had to worry about the reprimands of the Conclave.

Or so she thought.

For even if His Holiness Balthasar the Fifteenth had to surrender to the course of events, his ideas and those of the members of the Conclave closest to him had certainly not disappeared overnight.

The clerics and priestesses sent by Hadowald to take care of the other temples of the diocese had brought very bad news about the Pope's mood, and Sylvie knew that this situation could not last much longer.



"His Excellency the Count of Marton, Connelly's First Minister and a member of the Council of Regency, is pleased to invite Her Highness Lady Montgomery and the Prime Minister, His Excellency Daemon Haselworth, to the presentation ceremony of Her Highness Elizabeth Connelly which will take place in twenty days' in the Great Temple of Hadowald."

Crown Princess Elizabeth had recently turned seventeen, so the time had come for her to obtain the official investiture of the Holy Father, be presented to the people and finally occupy the throne that had remained vacant since the death of the former Ruling Prince.

Usually ambassadors accredited to the court of Hadowald attended the presentation and subsequent coronation, but since the Free State had not yet had time to send their owns around Erthea, inviting the Grand Duchess herself and her Prime Minister did not seem so strange.

Refusing the invitation was out of the question, especially since neither Daemon nor Aria had ever been to Connelly, and it could be a great opportunity to lay the groundwork for a fruitful cohoperation with another neighboring nation.

"What do you know of the Count of Marton?" Daemon asked after they had dismissed the messenger from the throne room

"I met him only once, when he came to visit my father. I was still a child, but he had already made a bad impression on me."

"Yes, I agree," said Adrian. "After all, you don't remain at the helm of a nation like Connelly for more than twenty years if you are not able to face every possible unforeseen event."

"His nickname is well deserved," Aria said again. "The Storm Knight. He was only the second-born son of a minor noble, and until he was sixteen no one had ever even heard of him. Then suddenly he decided to enter politics, and two years later he was the youngest Prime Minister ever seen in the history of Connelly."

"Aside from the secession of the Kingdom of Patria, he sparked the first real war between nations that Western Erthea had seen since the Holy Wars," Daemon said. "And everyone was willing to bet a fortune that Connelly could never, ever, trouble the Empire. Instead, he not only took back the lands that Saedonia had claimed after the Holy Wars, but went even further, conquering Tagrea. If the Emperor hadn't agreed to negotiate, heaven knows what might have happened."

The news spread quickly through the palace, and before Aria, Daemon, and Adrian could even seriously discuss the matter, the throne room was literally stormed.

Almost none of their companions had ever seen anything outside of the Free State, and the idea of being able to personally travel to the most beautiful city in Western Erthea was irresistible.

"You can't go down there without the Commander of your Guard."

"I would like to discuss with the Count the opening of a branch of the National Bank."

"Giselle still torments me because I didn't give her anything for her birthday."

"I want to see Sister Esther again."

"Calm down, please calm down." Daemon said, silencing the unruly mob jostling for first place. "I don't think you should be fighting like this."

"Daemon's right, you sound like children competing for a cookie," Aria scolded. "We'll be gone for a few days, and you all hold important positions. You can't just abandon them and go on a vacation whenever you want."

"I agree." Adrian shrugged, smiling mischievously. "That's why I'm opting out. I have enough to deal with already, and you'll surely dump your things on me too."

"I... I'm still in the middle of training new recruits," Athreia said, her blush betraying what she really wanted to say. "So I don't feel like stepping away. On the other hand, if My Lord felt he needed me..."

"You know my answer," snorted Natuli. "You've already given me enough trouble with this General thing. And I hate these ridiculous human formalities."

Suddenly the doors to the room opened again, but the new arrival advanced toward the throne with a much more gentle and austere gait than those who had preceded her.

"Your Grace," Sylvie said, bowing her head. "I have been told of the messenger's arrival. I would respectfully ask permission to accompany you."

Aria and Daemon, on the other hand, immediately understood the reason for her request.

"I imagine you wish to speak with the Holy Father," the Grand Duchess said.

"That is so."

"Your goodness and moral standing are rare gifts in these troubled times, Lady Valera," Daemon said. "Yet I fear words would be futile. From what I understand, the Pope is far from willing to maintain official relations with us."

"There are many within the Conclave who infect the Holy Father's mind with doubts and gossip, but I believe that in his heart he is only worried. No one before has placed religious freedom among the fundamental laws of a nation, and his fears of a pagan drift, while unfounded, are not entirely unjustified. However, if I could speak to him personally, I could try to convince him that he has nothing to fear from you."

As Daemon had said, clerics like Sylvie, so firm in their faith and at the same time so open to the changing times and thoughts, were an absolutely rare exception; but unfortunately for them, such virtues were precisely what made them unpopular in the higher echelons of the Circle.

Neither Daemon nor Aria had any illusions that it would have any effect, but it was still worth a try.

"All right, you can come with us."

"And we thank you for your help."

"I am the one who thanks you."

Daemon then turned to the other would-be companions: "As some of you already know, an embassy traditionally consists of five people. Counting the two of us and Lady Valera, that already makes three. Then there's Xylla, who will be taking care of Danton. Which means there's only one spot left."

The room fell silent, and for a moment it was as if Daemon were about to announce the next heir to the throne.

"Lady Valera will have her own business to attend to, and someone familiar with the lands and their ways can always be useful. So you're coming with us, Sapi."

"Yay! A vacation with big brother!"

"Daemon, I've told you a thousand times already! Stop spoiling her!"



Although the Principality and old Western Eirinn had been neighboring nations for about ten years, there were no passes across the Khoral range, and the only way to reach it was to bypass the mountain range via the Union or the Empire.

Unless, of course, you had a wyvern strong enough to easily carry five people on its back and a huge, heavy box squeezed between its hind legs.

"If you really have to throw up, don't do it on me like last time."

There was nothing to be done. No matter how steady and sure Danton was in his movements, and no matter how skilled Xylla was at guiding him, Aria's stomach churned every time they left the ground.

"How can you be so calm? We're flying, damn it! Man is not made to fly, but to keep his feet firmly planted on the ground!"

"Wrong. The only limit of intelligent beings is the one they set for themselves. Nothing is impossible, if you really want it."

For Sapi and Sylvie it was their first flight, but unlike Aria they were both too amazed by that incredible experience to be distracted by anything else.

Seen from up there Erthea seemed so different and small, like one of those maps on which Daemon loved to spend endless hours writing and noting everything.

Once over the high mountains of the Khoral, the vast forests of the west opened up before their eyes, then the beautiful and endless Gulf of Tagrea, with its very high white cliffs only occasionally interspersed with narrow beaches on which stood small port cities teeming with life.

They flew over the sea for a couple of hours, returning in sight of land near the Isthmus of Glendvile, and after just a morning's journey - when even the fastest of horses would have taken no less than four days - they came in sight of the splendid Hadowald.

In Connelly, beauty was a virtue, and care for aesthetics was law. And his capital was the earthly representation of this way of understanding life; an elegant and tidy vision at the same time, a white spot painted on the only large bay in the entire Principality, at the mouth of the Mirror river.

A perfect network of streets cut the city into almost identical neighborhoods, and among the countless towers of temples or noble residences that rose into the sky, that of the Bright Palace, seat of the Holy Father and heart of the Circle of Gaia, stood out higher than the others.

Although the townspeople and guards had been warned, the arrival of a wyvern still caused pandemonium, and many were left speechless at the sight of this simultaneously majestic and menacing animal flying calmly above their heads.

The palace stood outside the city, atop the highest cliff overlooking the sea; and even here, the guards could not believe their eyes when Danton landed placidly in the center of the entrance plaza, subsequently lowering his neck to let his passengers off.

"Thanks for the help, Xylla. North of here there should be a perfect plain for Danton. Leave him there and then join us."

"All right."

Aria was reeling from nausea, but tried to compose herself when a young gentleman with brown hair and small glasses approached the group.

"Your Grace. Mr. Prime Minister. Welcome to Connelly. I am Earl Miguel de Montesol, Minister of Foreign Affairs and a member of the Council of Regency. I'm honored to make your acquaintance."

"The honor is ours, Minister."

"His Excellency the Count of Marton is waiting for you in his study. He has instructed me to lead you to him. Please follow me."

"Daemon," Sylvie said. "If it's all right with you, I would like to go right away and request an audience with His Holiness."

"I'll come too! I'll come too! May I, big brother?"

"All right, go ahead. But you, Sapi, promise to stay close to Lady Valera."

"Of course. Let's go, Sylvie. I want you to meet Sister Esther."

"Easy, easy, Sapi. Don't pull. I'm coming."



If the palace was already magnificent, its gardens simply didn't seem to belong to the earthly world.

A natural spring of fresh water fed a stream that in turn gave life to a small L-shaped pond, on whose banks grew weeping willows, rose bushes and fruit trees.

In the shade of the trees and gazebos, the members of the court and government spent their time in long walks, informal breakfasts and pleasant conversations, making that place the beating heart of the life and destiny of all Connelly.

The palace was also home to a vast number of artists, especially painters and sculptors, who even that morning, were busy carving in stone or representing on a canvas the greatness of their country and its rulers.

"In the Empire, nobles don't go without luxuries, but here they go even further," Aria whispered, almost in annoyance.

"I think you're too harsh," Daemon replied. "It's not a simple display of opulence, but a love of life and the pleasures it offers. I like it, to be honest. It's a very epicurean vision."

"Epicu... what?"

"Forget it, it doesn't matter."

A half-human maid with rabbit ears whispered in the Earl's ear: "My apologies, gentlemen. His Excellency the Count is still busy with his current guest. In the meantime, if you wish, you can wait here for him, we will come and let you know as soon as he manages to free himself."

With nothing else to do, Aria and Daemon decided to spend some time taking a stroll through the gardens themselves, once again coming face to face with the love of pleasure that ruled the lives of Connelly's aristocracy.

"Anyway, returning to the previous point, this very indulgent vision sounds strange coming from someone like you, who even as Prime Minister seems to avoid luxury like the plague. We're about to meet the most powerful man in Connelly, and you're dressed as if you were visiting a friend."

"The Count of Marton never struck me as someone who appreciates ostentation for its own sake. That's how people know me now, and I don't intend to change. As for luxury, I indulge myself now and then. The important thing is to make sure that pleasures don't dominate you."

"Well said," said an elderly gentleman sitting at a stone table under a canopy of vines, with a sheep-like maid at his side. "Because otherwise one can no longer speak of pleasure, but only of vice."

Although he was dressed in a fine suit, had a well-groomed beard, and sported an elaborate hairdo, he was not exactly a pretty sight; his skin was tight and of a cerulean color, his eyes were sunken, and he was unusually bony for a nobleman.

"And our esteemed Prime Minister knows a thing or two about overindulging in pleasure."

"And you are?" Aria asked.