Author's Note: This chapter may be on the rougher side and will be subject to further revision. It is a fairly major turning point in the story and I am trying to get it just right. Any comments would be greatly appreciated. Fiona and Henry meet...

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Fiona

They were waiting for her at the gates when she arrived, as she knew they would be, three soldiers of the People's army standing in attendance, their bright red coats accented with gold, the colors of the Empire, the Kanjin crest upon their right breast. As agreed in their final correspondence, Fiona's visit with the Prince was to be short, a mere showing of support as she traveled through the Capitol on her way to Fenwick, a Senmin trading colony located twenty miles south of Auresir. She had been guaranteed escorts to and from the main gates of the city to the palace and back again. 

The men saluted her on approach, one offering his hand as she dismounted, while another handed her horse's reigns to a page that had appeared beside him.

"This way, my lady," one of her escorts said, gesturing to a coach waiting just over the wall, drawn by two magnificent black geldings. The coach itself was flanked by a pair of mounted soldiers to provide protection for the small retinue on their way to Salam Place. Fiona was stuck by the overly extravagant showing of power. Surely such elaborate efforts were not necessary. Still, she could not help but be pleased that Henry Bastario had gone to such lengths, though whether to impress or intimidate, she could not be sure. Fiona took the guard's hand and allowed herself to be helped inside.

The carriage was lovely, made of polished chestnut, the interior lined with red velvet. Fiona found the level of opulence somewhat repulsive. She thought of the most recent droughts that had plagued the farms in the north, the general poverty that had continued to rise in over the past ten years. The people's troubles clearly had no effect on the royal family. 
As they made their way through the streets she could see that indeed, throughout Auresir, the city lived up to its name. It truly was a "Golden City," at least in the middle and upper districts through which they rode.

Here the streets were just as bustling as she remembered from her childhood. The market they passed had no lack of peddlers standing in front of overflowing stalls filled with vegetables, and fruits, furs, and cloth. The people they passed had a pleasant plumpness about them, something rare in the lands outside of the Capital. Even the market vendors here were of the upper merchant class, well fed, clean, selling the wares of the poor made in the lower districts or the various farms and craftsman's workshops from lands beyond the city's gates, buying them cheap and reaping the benefit of others' toil.

As for the colored peacocks that strutted about, purchasing their useless trinkets, Fiona imagined most were entirely ignorant of the struggles others faced throughout the Empire. Here there was no famine, no rebellion, no danger, an easy enough feat when the worthy citizens of the upper and middle districts were so strictly regulated by class and bloodline. 

Fiona tried to imagine the early days of the walls that separated the districts, one of Fredrick's more insidious additions to the city. When she was a child they must have seemed less threatening. In Manna's youth they had not even existed. She wondered how long it had taken the citizens of the upper districts of the Capitol to accept the armed men that surrounded their lives, keeping the rest of the Empire at bay. How long before they had turned from potential threat to protectors. She wondered how long had it taken for the citizens of the lower districts to realize that their troubles under their new King's rule were only just beginning.

The Palace complex lay to the north of Auresir in the Royal City, surrounded by a wall of thin wrought iron that twisted and curled in an intricate design of flowers and vines. Upon arriving at the perimeter, the ornate gates opened, and their caravan entered the grand courtyard. 

Two fountains flanked the path to the building, with beautiful figures of carved marble men and women dancing beneath cascades of crystal clear waters amidst a large pool. Around the fountains, perfectly manicured green grass had been laid, dotted with dainty blossoms of red, white, and yellow. 

Although it seemed impossible, Salam Palace was even larger than she had remembered. As she stared at the sprawling rectangular structure with innumerable windows, graceful arches, and dainty turreted protrusions, Fiona could not help but feel certain awe at the enormity of the building and its undeniable beauty.

Once inside, Fiona was ushered towards the grand receiving hall where the Prince awaited. Again, Fiona found that her memory had not done justice to the unyielding size of the palace. As her escorts lead her past room after room of polished marble and painted ceilings, she grasped her staff firmly, grounding herself amidst the unfamiliar luxuries. 

At last, their party arrived at a great double door, which the two guards hurried to open at their approach. Fiona scanned the receiving hall as she was lead before the throne, quickly taking account of the numerous guards surrounding her before turning her attention to the raised dais where the Prince awaited.

Henry Philip Bastario sat upon a seat of polished cherry wood, his hands resting on the heads of two exquisitely carved lions with gaping mouths and sharp pointed teeth that ornamented the arms of the throne. Despite his mere twenty years of age, the Prince struck an imposing figure, his appearance youthful yet strangely intense. Henry's skin was fair, head crowned by a full crop of dark black-brown hair, his face handsome, set with strong features and penetrating slate blue eyes. It seemed that with Fredrick away, the Prince was quite eager to occupy the seat of power and appeared entirely at home perched upon the throne reserved for the ruler of the Empire. He did not rise at her approach.

"Nita Fiona Amoral," he said as she stepped before the throne. "I welcome you."

Fiona curtsied deeply, head bowed. "Your Highness," she replied. "I am humbled at your desire of my presence here today."

She could feel his eyes upon her as she rose, watching, assessing.

"I must admit," he said, "I was uncertain you would come."

Fiona was taken aback by the comment and not entirely certain how to respond. There was something unsettling in the Prince's gaze, and his words sounded surprisingly hard for one who had supposedly called for a friendly meeting.

"Your Highness sent an official request," she replied. "My people were honored to accept. Particularly in light of the King's recent actions within Auresir that seem to imply a renewed distrust towards the Senmin, I wished very much to assure the Crown of our loyalty."

"How very prudent of you," Henry answered, his tone no more friendly. "Your Council, however, reached a different conclusion did they not?"

Fiona wondered how he could possibly have learned such a thing. "Why would you think so my lord?" she asked, feigning ignorance. His question had once again surprised her. This did not bode well. She had been uncertain what to expect from this meeting with the crowned Prince, but his demeanor had already set her on edge, and the conversation thus far was far from promising in portent of a positive discourse between them.

"News travels Nita Amoral," the Prince replied. "Whispers throughout the Empire often find their way to our ears here in the Capitol. Moreover, my envoy did not mistake the hesitance your Council seemed to have in answering my initial message. It was evident in your delayed response."

She could hear the vague note of a threat in his words, but Fiona had no intention of being intimidated.

"I am the Nita," she stated calmly. "It was my presence that was requested, and I am my own master." She was slightly relieved to see edges of the Prince's lips twist up slightly with the threat of an amused grin.

"You have a reputation of being thus."


Fiona could not help but smile herself at his response. "I must say I am glad to hear it,"
she answered.

"Indeed. I am truly grateful you came. Meeting you in person I can see that the rumors in fact do not do you justice."


"You flatter me, Sire."


"It isn't flattery, it was merely a statement of fact," he replied. 
 Fiona stared at the man, trying to discern his meaning. 

 "I too am pleased to make your acquaintance in person," she said finally. "You also have quite the reputation."

"And how do I fair?" the Prince asked with interest.

She noted his comfort on the throne, the confidence in his voice, the affect in his demeanor, as if he already wore his father's crown.

"You do not disappoint." 

Again she saw a flicker of a smile appeared on his face, apparently pleased at her answer. "In that case, it seems that we understand each other," he said. "Will you sit?" He gestured towards one of the empty chairs that surrounded the throne at a slightly lower level. "You have come a long way and must be weary."

Fiona glanced at the chair, and then back to the Prince, hesitating. She thought of the Council's warnings to keep the meeting as brief as possible, their fear that any prolonged dialogue might prove dangerous until they were fully able to discern the Prince's motives for approaching the Senmin.

"Before we begin any discourse, your Highness," Fiona said. "I would be remiss should a not ask an important question of you. I hope you will forgive my candor."

He looked at her with genuine surprise. "A question?"

"Can I presume that the King has no knowledge of our meeting here today?"

The corners of Henry's mouth turned downward and his head cocked slightly. "I cannot see what relevance that has," he replied.

"No? Your father actively seeks to rid from the Capitol, any who identify among my people. Even now, our sacred books are banned within the walls of Auresir, the practice of our faith remains forbidden on pain of death." There was no visible reaction on the Prince's face to her comment. Of course, that was not surprising. Fredrick's policies against the Senmin were no secret, and the enforcement of anti-Senmin legislation in the Empire had only grown stronger since the rebel's defeat in Murdale.

"Perhaps you might take my invitation as a sign that I am not like my father on matters pertaining to your people," Henry answered.

"And if that is so, I am indeed glad to hear it, my Lord. I do not wish to bring a negative spirit to our discourse here today I mean only to make clear the reason my people were hesitant to see me accept your request that I journey to the Capitol and the perceived threat they imagined might come from the Crown should I enter the city walls."

The Prince nodded. "Nita Amoral," he said," I do indeed acknowledge the concerns of your people in regards to the current throne, but I remind you I am the crowned Prince of this great Empire. I requested your presence so that we could meet each other officially, nothing more, nothing less. I invited you here, and you accepted. My father is not presently within the limits of Auresir. Can we therefore meet within the parameters at hand, one leader to another without any preconceived notions of how our discourse might be perceived by others, including my father and your Council?"

"Indeed, your Highness," she said. She could hear a note of defensiveness creeping into his voice as he asserted his power as Prince of the Empire. It was noteworthy to be sure. Henry seemed distinctly irritable speaking of the King. Still, as he stated, it was his invitation she had accepted. Fiona had known full well that Fredrick would not likely approve, and she had come to assess Henry, not his father.

"Please," Henry said, once again gesturing to the chair. Fiona bowed her head slightly and approached, perching on the edge of the seat offered, back straight, staff held firmly in her right hand.

The Prince rang a bell that sat on the table to his right and a serving man entered the room carrying a tray with two chalices and a decanter. The man bowed deeply, remarkably keeping the tray on an even keel, before ascending the steps to the throne. He placed the tray on a side table and poured expertly from the decanter. Bowing once again, the man offered the glass to the Prince, before stepping back while still bent in submission. He took his place next to the table standing in attention as still as a statue.

"Will you join me?" Henry asked, with a nod to his servant. "I never receive important guests without offering some refreshment."


"Thank you," she replied graciously with a small nod.

The Prince gestured to his man offhandedly and the servant immediately poured a second glass, approaching Fiona and offering the cup with a bow. She accepted the glass and raised it as the Prince followed in kind.

"To the health of the Nita," he said. 


"To the health and future rule of your Highness," she replied. "May it be long and just."


The Prince tilted his head slightly. He seemed to be judging whether or not her comment was intended as slight but then he nodded his head in acceptance of her toast, as he drank. Still, Fiona felt him watching with an odd intensity a she raised her own glass to her lips, his eyes never leaving her as she sipped from her cup. Her heart pounded unevenly beneath his gaze as liquid splashed against her tongue. The strongly familiar bouquet of honeysuckle and vanilla filled her senses and Fiona swallowed, her mouth setting into a flat line of distaste. 


"I know this flavor," she said, "though I have not enjoyed the taste in many years."

"I hope then that it pleases you,"
 Henry answered.

Fiona tried to interpret the tone of his words. Had she seen the shadow of his smug grin pass over his face again or only imagined it? Was he aware of the statement he had made in his choice of drink? "Respectfully your grace I cannot say that it does, she replied, keeping her voice even. "This is wine from the northern land of Terrena."


"It is," the Prince replied. "You have a wonderfully perceptive pallet. The royal vineyards of the north produce some of the best wine in the Empire. Wouldn't you agree, Nita Amoral?"

Again Fiona was certain she caught a glimpse of a smile on his lips as he sipped from his glass. She fought to maintain her temper.

"I am certain you realize it is not the wine itself that brings me displeasure, my Lord, but the history of lands where it is produced."

The Prince did not respond and Fiona breathed deeply before speaking again. 
Perhaps this minor insult was unintentional, but somehow she could not shake the feeling of his eyes upon her as she had tasted from her cup and the cocky smile he still wore.

"Your Highness, forgive me if I am too forward, but why have you asked me here?"

He stared at her for a moment more before draining his cup and setting it down. In an instant his servant was at his side filling the glass once again. 


"You are a woman of great distinction and power," the Prince said. "Since my return to the Capitol, I have made it my mission to meet with those I deem worthy of a close relationship with the Crown. I wished very much to be on friendly terms."
 

 "Though the actions of your family have been less than friendly towards my people."


His eyes narrowed slightly. "As I have already stated, I see this as unfortunate. My father is, at times, a man of limited vision. He sees the Senmin as a danger. I am more open-minded."


Fiona was somewhat taken aback by the brazenness of Henry's words in criticizing his father. It seemed the rumored dissension between the King and his son was very real and the Prince apparently had no fear of the potential repercussions of his comments. Was the staff of Salam Palace entirely loyal to the Prince alone?

"Indeed I see your quaint people as industrious and hard working," Henry continued. "I imagine a great future for the Senmin and believe that, with your cooperation, we might easily eliminate the minor discrepancies that have kept us at odds over these many long years. "He raised his glass in salute drinking deeply again.

The condescension in his tone was nearly unbearable. Fiona fought to maintain a neutral expression in spite of her growing annoyance.

"You asked that we meet here today within the 'parameters at hand' and speak as 'one leader to another without any preconceived notions,'" Fiona said. "I would be happy to oblige this request. But I cannot help but to question you assertion that your Highness desires amiable relations with the Senmin."

"Is that so?" he asked. Fiona could hear the edge in his tone, but she was undeterred.

"You claim, my Lord, to be sympathetic and assert a desire to have more friendly relations with the Senmin than your father is that correct?" she asked, steadying her voice as best she could.

He nodded once.

"Yet you serve wine that could only serve to remind me of past wrongs perpetrated by the Crown against my people."

Henry only stared at her in silence. 


"I presume you know that the land of Terrena and its famed vineyards was Senmin territory before your father confiscated the Northern lands from their rightful owners eleven years ago," Fiona said. She knew her accusatory tone was barely concealed, yet she was growing more frustrated by the moment with this purported meeting of peace. 


The Prince gave a bemused frown in response to her allegation. "That is, I am certain, one interpretation of the past," he said.

"Do you deny that your father took advantage of his sovereignty over those lands and unlawfully confiscated the estates of law abiding Senmin lords."


"I do indeed deny these charges you lay against the King, Nita Amoral," Henry replied calmly. "You call the former guardians of the Northern lands " lords", yet my great-grandfather removed all legal claims of nobility from those of Senmin blood over many years ago as punishment for their failure to support him as the rightful leader of the Empire. The so-called "lords," who claimed ownership to the lands of which you speak, were merely servants of the Crown. 

"Thus to your insinuation that King somehow how misappropriated his power to provide new stewardship to Terrena and Rinmar, I will say only this. The lands were always the property of the Empire. Though I am, at times, critical of my father's leadership, he did have full authority, as sovereign ruler of Erestia, to take back those properties from the families of Collier and Limen. For the good of the Empire."

"For the good of the Empire?" Fiona balked. 


"Indeed. Do you forget that the Senmin people supported Gregory Plath in his earliest attempts to create the Vox Populi? My father deemed the northern territories too important to leave in the hands of those with questionable loyalties. "

Breath, Fiona told herself as she held her tongue in the face of his outright lie. She could not allow her frustration to undermine her power. Not here in the royal palace. Henry was essentially a child and could not help but to appear arrogant and cocky. "Limen and Collier were entirely innocent of any involvement with the Vox Populi," Fiona replied, forcing a level of calm back into her tone. "The Senmin never acted against the Crown."


"Yet there were those among your people who were arrested and duly convicted of involvement with the rebellion."

Of course she could hardly deny his point. "A few may have been sympathetic to Plath," she admitted, "but."

"A 'few' with rebel sympathies is enough," he replied, cutting her off. "My father was merely being careful."

Another deep breath. "The King's decision to take land from the Senmin leaders of the northern lands had nothing to do with Plath," Fiona said. This feigned ignorance was nearly more than she could withstand. "Your father used the rebellion as an excuse to regain those holdings for himself."
 She knew her words were dangerous, but it seemed clear now that Henry had indeed sought to drive the conversation towards the past issues between her people and the Crown. To what purpose it was hard to imagine, but Fiona would not prove herself a coward by holding back her response.

"I repeat," the Prince said, " the families of Limen and Collier were merely stewards, graciously granted reprieve from my great-grandfather's laws due to their confirmed loyalty to the Bastario throne. My father had every right to do with their property as he pleased, regardless of his motivation."


"You do allow then that Philip Bastario granted those lands to the Senmin he deemed trustworthy. They represented the last semblance of representation our people were allowed in the House of Lords."

"The Senmin lost that privilege of representation when they supported the burgeoning rebellion," he countered. 


"Is that a decision you agree was justified?" she asked earnestly. If there was any truth in his purported desire of friendship between them he must be willing to admit the Senmin deserved some level of protection within the Empire she reasoned. "In losing our representation my people suffered greatly. Surely you concede that Limen and Collier were not directly involved with the Vox Populi?"


He eyed her with a hint of amusement at her daring in pressing the issue. "If you will admit that there were indeed Senmin who ranked high among the early formation of Plath's group," he answered.

"I can not deny that possibility," Fiona replied carefully.

The Prince stared at her a moment without response, and Fiona felt a strange discomfort prickling on her skin beneath his gaze. "Do you realize, Nita Amoral," he said finally, "that there were once suspicions that you had met with Plath? Rumors that you yourself personally supported the Vox Populi."

Fiona felt her heart pounding in her chest, momentarily finding herself at a loss for words. She forced herself not to look towards the armed men she knew were stationed all around her. The Prince was trying to make her nervous, putting her at a disadvantage. But he couldn't know anything. The words of accusation were merely meant to intimidate her. Fiona would not allow him to do so.


"Suspicions and rumors are poor substitutes for fact." She answered with as much confidence as she could. "Had your father believed such charges, I doubt greatly that I would be alive to speak with you today. My people have proven our allegiance to the crown one hundred times over, and, as we have discussed, the Senmin were more than duly punished for the actions of a few."

A generous smile appeared on the Prince's face. "Indeed," he said. "It was not my intention to offend you, nor bring up memories of past unpleasantries. Please forgive me Nita Amoral."

Fiona grudgingly inclined her head towards the throne, accepting his false contrition, wondering how much more indignity she could suffer without making a comment she might truly regret.

"Still," he continued, "I'm certain you understandunderstand, Erestia must have order. You too are a ruler and can appreciate the delicate situation my father has faced in dealing with the Senmin."


"In dealing with the Senmin?"


"Again, I mean no offense, but even without outward rebel sympathies, your people do create a certain threat that must be managed by the Empire. Surely you appreciate the necessity of laws which keep the people safe."


"I understand a just leadership, and laws that prohibit only that which is harmful to the people," Fiona answered evenly.

"Forgive me, but we seem to differ in our opinion if that which is harmful and detrimental to society," the Prince said. "The old practices of the Senmin are highly superstitious and potentially dangerous."


Fiona felt her eyes narrow in spite of herself. "Because they do not recognize the prophet Kanjar?" she asked, hoping that her mocking tone was not overtly evident.

"Because they see themselves as above the prophecies. Because they consort with devils," he replied coolly.

The anger flushed through her body at his unveiled insult. "When I first arrived here, your Highness," she answered through gritted teeth, "you suggested that you had heard rumor of my strength and conviction. My reputation of acting as my own master and answering to no other. Do you truly believe I will tolerate such base propaganda and lies of degradation against my people to come from your lips?"

"I believe you have no choice but to do so," he replied. She could see the distinct smirk on his lips.

"Is that so?" Fiona asked rising from her seat, standing, hand clenched around her staff, knuckles white. She could feel her heart pounding furiously against her ribs. If he had intended to rouse her anger, he had done so. From the King she might tolerate such audacity for the sake of her people. But from this little pretend leader, a boy who fancied his power far greater than it was, she could not stand for such disrespect without comment. Surely he knew that.

From the corner of her eye she saw the guards come to attention hands on the hilts of their weapons, no doubt responding to the hint of threat in her stance. She held the staff even tighter. The Prince, however, appeared entirely undisturbed. His eyes rolled over her fury, lingering ever so slightly on the hand clutching the staff in a death grip. He raised a hand towards his men who reluctantly lowered their guard.

"Peace. Peace," he said to his men. "Nita Amoral is our guest." He paused, giving her a pointed stare. "Though do I fear she has forgotten herself."

"And I believe you have forgotten to whom you speak," Fiona replied, refusing to turn from his gaze. "Regardless of the Crown's opinion of the Senmin, I am nonetheless a ruler to whom respect is due. Surely you can appreciate that your Highness. Was that not why you asked me here?"


"Nita Amoral, I believe it would be wise to maintain control. This is, after all, a friendly meeting. Please show some discretion lest it become something else."
 

  Discretion? she thought to herself incredulous. The man did not know the meaning of the word. It seemed abundantly clear now that he had only asked her to the palace to assert his authority over the Senmin, but Fiona was determined to show him that she could not be cowed by his threats nor bend to him entirely. "I came here with the hope that we could discuss the issues that have plagued our two peoples," Fiona replied. "You seem unable to admit any issues exist. You speak of discretion, and yet your words thus far show that you maintain no esteem for my title and position. I fear, therefore, that our discourse is ended as there is clearly nothing to discuss."

A fixed glare rained down from the throne as he watched her in silence. Perhaps he had not expected she would counter him? That she would dare presume to end the discourse on her own terms? 

 "I am well aware of your status, Nita Amoral," he said, after a moment's consideration, "but you now act as if you are ignorant of mine. The Senmin are sworn servants of the Bastario family. I wished to speak with you as a respected leader within my domain, but I am still your Sovereign. I must remind you, to speak to me without the proper respect borders on the side of treason. Perhaps your Council may have been wise to suggest you abstain from our meeting after all. I would posit that diplomatic relations are not your forte."


Fiona kept her voice even. "You may be right, Highness. And perhaps I was foolish to imagine you truly wished to discuss anything of import rather than merely inviting me here to play some sort of odd game to amuse yourself while the King is away." It was a step too far, and Fiona knew it. His anger was entirely undisguised now. In fact, he was practically shaking. She felt a smug satisfaction to have finally roused his ire. The audacity shown by the Prince in bringing the supreme representative of the Senmin to his presence only to humiliate and patronize overrode any small desire he might have expressed towards building friendly relations between them. It was clear to Fiona that Henry had never had any intention of serious negotiations at all. Nonetheless, Fiona felt her heart racing in her chest as she watched him, waiting to see how he would respond to her audacity. 


"Nita Amoral have you truly forgotten where you are?" the Prince asked. As he snapped his fingers, two guards stepped in closer to the throne, the steel of their swords glinting. She would not back down. 
She would not allow him to believe her to be a weak leader. The Empire had always had the ability to eradicate the Senmin. Fear is what kept monarch after monarch from doing so, and she could not risk the chance that Henry Bastario might see any semblance of cowardice show in response to his posturing.

"Do you dare intimidate the Nita?" Fiona asked, forcing their eyes to lock. "You do know that not all of your rumors are lies." Fiona could feel the power of her anger focusing into the staff, climbing to the crystal affixed to the top. "Though I maintain that your father is misguided in his fear of my people, I none the less will confirm, I am not one you wish to cross."


"Is that a threat?" Henry asked. It was difficult to tell from his tone if he was shocked or impressed that she would dare continue to challenge him. She imagined few ever did.

"Of course not, your Highness," Fiona replied easily, "It is merely a statement of fact. The King despises the Senmin, yet he has never sought to attack my person, never considered an assault on the Nita or the Initiate. There is reason for that."

They stared at each other, unmoving, unspeaking, eyes locked in mutual stubbornness, unwilling to concede defeat, and entirely unrepentant.

It was the Prince who broke first, face relaxing into a forced smile as he sunk back from the edge of his throne. "Nita Amoral," he said, "I believe you are correct. This meeting is indeed ended."

Fiona did not relax her gaze. "Then with your consent my lord, I will take my leave." Fiona bowed her head slightly, eyes still trained on the Prince.

Henry waved his hand permissively. "Guards, please show the Nita out and see that she is given the agreed upon escort back to the Western Gates." Two of his men bowed their heads and walked to either side of Fiona. As she turned, her armed retinue followed closely behind. She was almost to the door when she heard his voice again. 


" I do regret deeply that our encounter was not more fruitful in providing our peoples what we both had sought, Nita Amoral. But before you go, I must ask one thing of you. For your sake, please do remember what hand rules the lands of Erestia and to whose sovereignty the Senmin owe their allegiance."


Fiona stopped, turning back to face the Prince fully. "We remain loyal subjects to the Bastario throne of Erestia and to your royal Highness," she said. The words were bitter in her mouth, though she knew she might have no other response. "Of course we all live under the sovereignty of the God above," she concluded. Even from a distance, Fiona could see his smile return.

"Indeed," he said. "I do hope the God grants you safe passage home."
 

Fiona answered only with a final bow as she turned again and walk decisively from throne room. But with Henry's words ringing in her ears she could not help but notice the increased proximity of the guards beside her and the glinting metal of the blades at their hips.

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So....did Henry surprise you? Worried for Fiona at all??? Wonder what will happen next? Let me know what you think! And thanks for reading!!!!! :-)