Hyra of the Wolves has taught Yue many things, but she has not taught her this. Every master must keep a secret or two back. Every hero, too. She received an ideal from a great thief and considers it, its logic and precise wording, one of her hidden treasures. It's not a secret to be given; you have to walk the same road as Hyra to earn it. 

She runs the precise words across her mind in secret. Feeling their reassurance. Feeling their warmth. These secret words are what she will live by, and she lets them fill her as she walks towards the Sky Castle.

This is the Handmaiden's path. The earlier Handmaidens thought themselves shields but those relationships were flawed; they pushed their mistresses to the background, engaged each other, and their hearts fell before each others blades. The internet forums she was on as a wide-eyed teenager were flooded with discussions of those warriors, idolizing their martyrdoms on the pyre of unrequited love. She'd gotten a [i]lot[/i] of pushback for her fanfictions that actually had the Princesses kiss their Handmaidens. 

But to her, being a martyr seemed miserable. Being a shield meant taking blows. Pining silently away meant [i]not getting kisses[/i]. And in the opinion of Hyra of the Wolves, kisses ruled actually and more people should have them. She didn't want to be a tragedy, no matter how appealing some people found that idea. She wanted to be a hero. She wanted to be a hero in the way the thief had taught her to be.

Princess Yin, then, had been a mistake. A well intentioned one, one built on the battle of her shining magical knights in eternal night-time battle against the horrors of the dark. That seemed [i]surely[/i] a path to true heroism, to shine for those who would appreciate it. It had turned out differently. Yin had been exactly the sort of person who believed that any sort of non-canon ship was somewhere between childish and barbaric and was [i]extremely[/i] keen on everyone pining over her from a distance while she made out with designated canon ship boyfriend. There had been a brief, awkward shift after the Prince had dumped her and Yin grasped around for a rebound. That had... gone badly and ended predictably, in a rather neat illustration of why one shouldn't sacrifice one's ideals no matter how thirsty you were.

Enough, then. She would not be that kind of Handmaiden ever again. She would not fight battles on behalf of another. She would not break herself on the sharp edges of someone else's heart. The essence of being a Handmaiden, though, was to save your beloved - and that was where Hyra drew the line. She would not fight Yue's battles for her. If she lost, so be it. [i]That's[/i] when Hyra would rescue her. 

[i]That[/i] was the kind of Handmaiden Hyra wanted to be. To escape the burning building with the girl in her arms, like the superheroes of old. So finding out she had to rescue Yue from the Sky Castle? Braving a Princess, Countess, and aeronautical army?

It was like a fanfiction come true.

She looks up at the ominous shape of the Palace above her. Steel and scale and stone and [i]power[/i]. It tells the tale of exactly what it is, exactly what it intends, exactly who you are in relation to it. There is no question, no mistake, no deception.

And her?

She wears a black business suit and tie. Hair tied up in a bun. Sunglasses revealing nothing. This is an ancient look, at once boring and timeless. She wears it today for the same reason as those back then wore it. It reveals [i]nothing[/i]. For a time, everyone from parakinetic directors of supernatural government agencies to tech support drones wore this same identical uniform, cloaking their splendour in generic anonymity and ambiguous power. The suit is a mask. It is the only shield that can protect her from the overwhelming power of the Sky Castle's architecture. That can make the gate guards hesitate when they see her. That can let her bluff her way right into the throne room, as slick as bureaucracy.

(The other reason she wears it is for the pockets and vague shapelessness. Both extremely necessary given how many tools, weapons and emergency costume changes she has crammed in under the surface. Of all her winter preparations, one of the hardest was making sure she still looked sufficiently hot after all of the gear had been accounted for.)

She'd chosen her moment carefully. When she pushed the double doors of the great hall open, the wind blew in a wave of cherry blossoms ahead of her. It's spring now and the Sky Castle is an ocean of pink and white, and so Hyra of the Wolves emerges in the midst of a perfumed blizzard. She comes in alone to stand before the mighty throne of Countess Keron, reflecting the mighty ruler in her mirror shades, confronting that draconic power with itself.

Her intention here is not a total mystery though. Her sword, long and silver and naked, rests across her shoulders. Armoured guards circle around her, spears readied with the cautious stance of stunt crew who trying to judge just how badly they're about to go down.

"Oh?" said Countess Keron from her throne, chin resting on her hand in the opulent arrogance of her station. "What comes calling, I wonder? Another volunteer for the arena?"

Hyra remains silent. For now, just her eyes move, crimson lights beneath the void. She picks out Chen, Rose - Yue. Where has the Countess chosen to display each of you?