The Messy Head Business

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Alexandra was feeling drained. Emotionally drained, mentally drained as well as physically drained after spending four hours talking to her brother. He had started off hostile, then got more and more comfortable, until at the end of the second hour, they were talking like the old brother-sister they had been.

Still, it had been exhausting. Taking the name "Sabel" in every sentence, when it always filled her mouth with a bitter taste, knowing what she had been going on with these many years. At some point, Alexandra had gone as far as to ask Austin, if he had ever checked the coffin - for Nicholas.

Naturally, Austin had looked taken aback. Then he had shook his head and said that the woman might be the worst they had seen, but he didn't think she could do something like that.

Alexandra disagreed.

The aunt, was capable of ANYTHING. Even if that meant, acting her whole life that her son was dead - when he wasn't. Alexandra was pretty sure he was NOT. And that Sabel was hiding him somewhere in her Maze-Palace.

She had changed her capital as soon as her husband had died. Announced herself as the Supreme Power of Ethoris - it was not difficult to do that, anyhow - and that was when the maze like Palace had been constructed.

Wasn't it clear? It was to hide - and hide whom? Of course, the aunt's face was ugly enough to be hidden, but then, practically speaking - it was for a person. Whom nobody should find, because in case he was found out, how would Sabel oppress the hapless Dovish?

All of these, still, were only theories. Alexandra believed them - and because she did, she would have to prove them. And then the whole Ethorian Palace being a maze... it scared her. Honestly, it was one thing to be with the aunt. But completely another and much, much worse - to be caught with her in a maze.

On top of everything, being a Head was messy business. Because now, in her pocket was a thick letter. Whenever she touched its edges, she felt hesitant. Alexandra wanted to simply run away from the House of Metanoia, back to the Council. Forget about Aunt Sabel, Austin, Ethoris - EVERYTHING.

Only if that had been possible.

The letter held the invitation to the Triumph Meeting. The exact sort of thing which made Alexandra's face twist in displeasure. The meeting had only one question: "what next?", they had won the war, they had had prisoners of war, still - what next?! and to answer that, they needed intelligence.

Not that they were fools - they only needed the intelligence department's view. It was Alexandra's job to predict what could happen next. And why. And when. And how. And where. It was her job to also tell them what had happened before. And why. And when. And how. And where.

Not that she didn't have her facts. Not that she hadn't connected the dots and come up with explanations. No, she was rather confident of her points. The problem was that Alexandra hated these protracted affairs.

Why not simply take the information she was giving and do whatever they wanted to with it? Why was there a need for a meeting, a discussion? That too, a discussion with ministers. Who were neither going to fight the battles, nor going to get the information.

Alexandra had a special disdain for ministers. Good ministers? They were like good dreams - pleasant to have, still, useless. Bad ones were nightmares. Unpleasant. Unneeded.

And the majority of times, the ministers made no sense at all. Just like dreams.

Around her, in the partial dusk - the House of Metanoia was alluring enough. Its crystal chandeliers were reflecting the final remnants of sunlight onto the wall, forming patterns even better than the ones the designers had managed to. The white floor had an orange tinge to it, reflecting the sky outside. If she peered down one of the parapets of the Palace, Alexandra would see the whole of Idgard sprawled underneath with the river Victorie silently flowing across its Eastern border, glistening demurely.

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