[b]Heavenly Cytherean Machi![/b] You dance on the edge of disaster, and how beautiful the prance of your feet! Over one shoulder you have a very dangerous witch indeed; if she realizes your nature, she could punish you for it. After all, this is the girl who spoke with the Morningstar herself. So you leave her breathless, disoriented, jostled; you have done your best to remove her from play. The Stag Knight vaults forward, her great bronze-ringed spear singing in her hands, and, ah, to fight her? [i]That[/i] would be a battle. But you don’t have the requisite audience yet. You will need all eyes on you for that battle. Draw her out, lead her on, and let her give chase! *** [b]Giriel![/b] The way that Uusha moves is incredible. It’s not showy, not flashy, but it is intense. Her witch has just been stolen, and now she’s going to get Peregrine back. There’s no room for this fight to deescalate now; it’s on, and good luck trying to stop the Stag Knight when she’s on the move. You may continue to chase at their heels, but Uusha dictates the tempo of this battle now, not you. Hike up your skirt and run after them, if you dare! *** [b]Kalaya![/b] The highlander is small (even compared to you), but practically radiates surliness. Whack, whack! She sends aspiring warriors tumbling to the ground with her great swings of her sword. (Some of them will definitely feel it later; even middle-aged shopkeepers and mothers with their skirts tied up around their ankles are involved in this fight, because this tourney’s feverish energy has infected everyone. Luckily, anyone who really shouldn’t be here should get disqualified early, thanks to your plan.) She’s perfect. What a perfect supporting character! (Is a terrible thought to have, but there it is.) Everybody would take you seriously if your second-in-command was a fire-breathing, butt-kicking highland scoundrel, with you around to keep her in line. All you need to do right now is show off just how worthy you are of having fans! To display your skill with a sword and awe this surly girl, who’s just looking for a knight worthy of her service! *** [b]Han![/b] Usually, these tourneys are just a bunch of, you know, young adults looking to blow off steam and earn the chance to travel the Flower Kingdoms. Traveling with a knight is a hell of a way to spend a few years, after all. You get to see the land, make new friends, have big useless battles that get the blood flowing, and party all night long afterwards. No wonder it’s a coveted gig. Too bad that you are here to tell everyone that they are dumb and useless, though that’s to be expected when— Someone who could be part of your mom’s tea club brings her sword down towards your shoulder blades. You smack the sword out of her hands so hard that it flies into a pimply teen and knocks them sprawling into the wet earth. Why is [i]everyone[/i] getting involved with this? Like people with grey in their beards would want to pick up stakes and go tramping around the Flower Kingdoms? That’s when you see the knight approaching you, and she’s… well, what’s your impression of her? Not like you can tell right away that she’s a princess and a knight. She’s small, deceptively so, and you need her attention! You have to make her tell you where you can find a witch!! *** [b]Piripiri![/b] Stumbling upon the secret passage wasn’t as much a stroke of good fortune as you might think. Kingeater Castle actually has a lot of them, burrowing beneath the ground like an anthill— not that you would know that, of course. To you, it was just the breath of hot, sweet wind down there in the dark, and the rich smell of rain, and a tunnel sloping upwards. When you make it out, the sky above is a dark bruise, and the rain is coming down like falling teeth— but you can’t afford to dally. The longer you stay here, the more you risk being hunted by the hounds of Hell. The jungle stretches out before you, thick and vine-choked and bursting with colors: purples and blues, reds and pinks, and most of all green on green on green, visible when lightning cracks across the sky. Beside you, Azazuka squares herself up. Her hair’s loose, and risks being caught on vine and bramble; her shoes are gone, her dress is rumpled and moss-stained, and her cheeks still have indents from the straps; but she’s not panicking or whining or draping herself over you. When you glance at her, and she glances back at you, there’s a little bit of steel in her that wasn’t visible back home. She needs your help, she needs your expertise, and she may even need an impromptu haircut before you make it out, but she doesn’t need strength. Azazuka of Golden Chrysanth will provide that herself, bereft of her wealth and her servants, allowed to use it for the first time in her life. How does the journey go for the two of you, the spy and the heiress alone together?