Fannel nodded.

'Vellesmere.' He repeated, 'it's a neighboring city. Quite disturbed, every week or so, terrorists, rebels ... they infiltrated into it, indiscriminately killed people, set fire to property and houses... took away young girls.' He exhaled, Alexandra already knew what his sister's fate had been in that case. She, at once was curious and repelled by the story.

'So on her... Diana's sixteenth birthday, we were on Velloi Hills - Vellesmere's named after it - it was a calm, bright day. I'd gifted her the blue-lily pendant she'd always wanted, though it meant I had to steal money from a rich Manor-' He stopped again, '-and she was teaching me to identify those hilly, valuable plants ... that's when they came again. The whole city was in disarray. Old King Ethan - he was ... utterly - useless.'

His voice shook with sudden rage, something which Alexandra had realized quite early. She had known that he was helplessly angry, from the abrupt halts he'd been taking. But why would he tell that to her? Why was he talking about it - how did it have anything to do with her? Despite all that, Alexandra sat still, listening with rapt attention. Only a few sentences- but it summed up how worse life could be, what unforeseen challenges it could pile upon people. Doveland, had never had the terrorist, the revolutionary problem. They had thought it was because of the power of King Adelard.

Too late, Alexandra realized that it was because Doveland had come out of a tribe. A tribe, where ideals had once been democratic, and slowly, with consent - progressed to autocratic. Vedessa, meanwhile, had been born of a partition. There were bound to be a hundred different opinions, a hundred different problems because of those divergent political views. And when the ruler himself was weak ... what could the hope be, for the commoners?

Commoner.

She was common now, herself. But Alexandra had never known another person's life details. They were all "subjects" to her, until then. Faces merging into each other amid a crowd. Now that she was facing them, Alexandra realized that one look at a person never told anybody of their real struggles, their real story. She hadn't spared a thought to that sort of life - the one which the masses lived. In which, just for a small thing like a pendant, they'd have to steal money. In which, they couldn't spend one day of happiness, of peace, without worrying about their lives, their empty stomachs. And all kings did was to entertain their mad relatives and make up useless alliances. Hanker for more power, search for more land. 

'He did nothing to prevent them.' Fannel continued. 'He let the barbarians tear us apart. All he cared for was his own-' he stopped again, gazing away, realizing that he had been side-tracked. 'His marital status.' He completed, 'and that's when Diana defended us against a dozen savage men. I never knew of it till then- but she was keeping a dagger- one she could have picked up from anywhere. But Diana had taught herself to use it- she- she was extraordinary. Mabel,' he said, 'the look on her face- the gritted teeth- that determination. I've seen it in you too- And then,' He exhaled once again. Alexandra leaned in closer,

'Then?' She prompted- 'then what?!'

'In the end... in the end when she knew it was no use, she offered herself as a diversion. Pushed me downhill... and she didn't die, they never found her. They - those dogs -' His hands shook, 'They took her.'

Alexandra recoiled, not knowing what to reply with. Even in her wildest of dreams, she couldn't imagine something more terrible than what had happened with her. And here was a man, whose sister had had been abducted by terrorists. Still, he wasn't deterred from spending his life in national service. Alexandra had often heard it being said, but she believed it now: these, these - the common people- and NOT Kings- or Queens, ran the nation. A good Monarch, was a bonus. A bad one, was a curse. Society could do well without them.

'That one attack, it destroyed everything. My whole family was wiped out,' Fannel continued, staring down at the ground between them, as Alexandra rested her head on her knuckles, feeling a strange certainty that she was going to see Diana one day - no matter what. 'That was when I came here.' Fannel concluded, somewhat hurriedly. He had a trace of secrecy again. Maybe a bit of the truth that he was still hiding. 

'I don't know-' He started again, staring at Alexandra who finally got up to look into his eyes again, this time knowing what she had to say, once he completely. 'Why it came over me - all of a sudden, to tell you this, Mabel. I've kept it closed off from every single person - but - now that it's done...' he emphasized, 'I realize- there are reasons. There are reasons why I'm telling you this, Mabel,' he continued, 'and the first one must be clear: women - girls - by no means are weak. You are not weak. It is just that you do not have to prove it to anyone with your arguments. Mark my words, you will be one of the best spies Idgard will ever have.'

Alexandra first let that sink in, blinking silently. Best spy... they all fit together. She had to act, not just sit and argue. How many mouths could she shut? Ten? Twenty? How many mouths could shut themselves up, seeing her prove the point? 

All of them.

This was the real, savage world. Not the fancy of a tender princess. Here, nothing moved without proofs, without convictions. She would have to prove her worth - to Master George, to the Council - to everybody.

'And... the second reason?' She then asked - she had to tell Fannel something, but Alexandra had the feeling that he had something even more important to own up to. To share.

Fannel looked into her eyes, very slowly, he said, 'And, Mabel ... the biggest part is that you ... you remind me so much of her!' He confessed, sounding anguished - defeated. Like a person who'd lost his most beloved possession forever and was trying his best to get over it, 'if she was here... you have the same fiery pride, that ... nimble cleverness, the ... the stance she always had - that she was one against many ... I see her in you, Mabel. I'm drawn to help you ... when I see you against those boys of your year. We don't know each other ... but since the moment I've seen you, I can see my sister in you, Mabel. Will you ...' He continued, 'Will you accept me as your brother?'

Brother. It hit so hard that Alexandra almost forgot about Diana.

Funny, how he was the same age as Austin... twenty one. Alexandra wasn't going to send away this gift. Not at any cost. She nodded, 'I would love to be - your sister. Definitely. But,' She added, finally the time to voice her certainty - 'I'll also find Diana. I don't know how, but I will. And I'll make sure you see each other again, even if that is the last thing I do. Trust me.' Alexandra claimed. She just knew she would. That dim feeling was lighting up - she had to do it. Because somehow, Alexandra knew that she was the only person who could.

Fannel stared at her. She didn't know what he was thinking, but he was going through a lot of emotions at once, 'Tell me how she looks, Brother. Think of her.' Alexandra added.

'Looks?' The Fifth Year asked, looking down with a slight frown. 'The last time I saw her - ten years back ... green eyes ... dark, dark brown hair, full lips, Olive skin ... and a - a star-like birthmark on the chin. It was small but deep. Very much visible.'

That was the point. Something that made Diana Fannel stand out - easier to find. 

'You will see her again, I promise you.' Alexandra vowed. She had no idea how she was going to do that - but she was.

Somehow. Anyhow.

* * *

Alexandra was close to miserable through three quarters of the year. She wanted to talk to a friend. Anyone! Betty, Sarah, Mother Diana, or perhaps even Liam - with his profound sense of humor and the personality that somehow improved Alexandra's mood. She wanted anyone who would understand that she was trying hard. Fannel was busy with his own year. They did have these talks, sitting by the Lake, which was no longer scary at nights, and had become Alexandra's favorite spot. But they weren't enough. She was terribly lonely.

The nights were no better. The boys were extremely noisy. The strenuous physical work was now not so hard, after doing it everyday for nine months. Sleep didn't grace her as easily anymore, and Alexandra had to lie down each night, with only her thoughts for company, in the colossal, dark dormitory. The horrible paintings they showed, for mental endurance, revisited her at times, appearing twice as scary.

Today was the worst in a long time.

She was not as tired. And she wasn't able to sleep at all, because her year-mates were having a sort of "Private Party", with the dorm hall to themselves.

Now, the Dormitory had six wings. Usually, the people took only five years to learn everything the council could offer them - with exceptional cases, at times. Their first year was spent in the first wing, the one that was currently occupied by them. The whole structure looked like a barrack and a castle combined. There were winding staircases and small rooms. Every year had two floors to themselves. On the first floor was the hall, a huge expanse of space just for nothing, because the mess was a different building anyhow. So down there, the boys were having a late night gathering, because the next day was a Sunday, and they'd missed the previous Term-Party because of ... themselves.

It was getting a bit too much, now. Alexandra was used to things being her way. She tried to sleep for an hour, then decided it was no good. Getting up, pulled on her cloak and walked down.

The hall was huge, there were six boys laughing hard, making jokes. Someone had nicked food, because there was plenty of it in the hall. She had thought that she would give them a piece of her mind, but then it appeared good ... the party.

She cleared her throat loudly. Some stopped laughing.

'You are having fun.' Alexandra noted.

No one said anything.

'I thought I could join you, because I cannot sleep with this noi-'

'Do you never use your brain, Stupid, or is today a special occasion? What makes you think we'd let you join in?  Because of you we couldn't attend the Term-Party-' Watson started, in a scorn.

'You mean because of yourselves? Because I did not even complain, Master George just caught you people at it.' Alexandra interrupted.

'Are you going or n-'

'But it's impossible to sleep!' She held, losing her patience and stamping her foot. 'You stop this noise, and I will.'

The boys looked at each other, then they laughed.

'How did you land up here?' Gergs asked - with mean interest.

'Maybe she was employed to cook - or to clean. And just some confusion!' Venly offered. Alexandra felt blood pounding in her ears.

'Shut up!' Alexandra almost yelled - then stopped abruptly, lest some seniors woke up, 'I'm not here to cook, or clean! I am as good as any of you. Even better!' She hissed. 

'As good as us?' Watson asked, sitting up suddenly, with new-found interest glinting in his eyes. 'So you can do all that we can?' He asked.

Alexandra wondered if there was catch in that. After a minute of biting her lips, she exhaled and straightened up. 'Yes.' She said, stoutly.

Wrong step! Why are you so outspoken! Mind demanded, at once. Alexandra herself felt something was not right, the Watson wouldn't ask anything simply. He definitely meant something bigger.

He smiled in a good-natured way. In fact, that was so unnerving that even his friends looked at him, astonished. 'Mabel.' He repeated, 'then, if you can do anything I can, please come inside.' He offered.

Alexandra looked at him for a second, was it too late to retreat?

It is. Mind confirmed.

She exhaled, and since there was no alternative, crossed the threshold of the Hall, walking towards her year-mates.

'I would just like to confirm.' Watson said.

'What are you doing?' Paul demanded, but Watson showed him his palm, in a stop gesture. Somehow, he had become the undisputed leader, Alexandra registered, because Paul went silent. Alexandra stared at him, blankly. 

'What confirmation?' She asked.

'If you could just lift this,' he ventured, plunging his hand into a pocket and pulling out a tiny, round disc. 'This is used in a ... manly game. Whoever can throw it the farthest, wins. You know, discus-throwing.' He said, holding it out to her. Despite the small size of the disc, Alexandra could see it was not a "light" object. Every single muscle of Watson's arm was flexed and visible against his skin in holding it.

Still, she extended a hand to accept it. 'Give it.' She declared.

'Ah, that can be fatal.' Watson informed, 'I'll just put it here, on this counter and you can then show us your strength. And ability.' He said, bending to drop the disc on a table. He straightened up, rotating his wrist, as though it ached. 'Go ahead,'

Alexandra stared. After two deep breaths, she took a step forward and closed her hand upon the warm, metal ball. She gave it a heave.

The disc didn't even budge.

She tried, and tried and tried. It didn't move. Not in the slightest. Alexandra could feel Watson standing behind her, watching. She could feel everybody else's eyes on her. Alexandra felt her cheeks grow hot and flush. She knelt down next to the table. No difference.

'Not happening?' Watson asked, 'Go ahead, try with both hands.' He offered. It was everybody else's cue to laugh. And they did, but when the laugh had died down, and Alexandra was pink in the face, barely able to control the rushing tears, Watson continued, 'I said,' he began politely, but vehemently, 'go with both hands.'

Alexandra didn't know why she obeyed. Why she even stayed there, bearing the insult. But she couldn't rival the growing doubt in her. If he could lift it, why not she? Was she really what she claimed? Was she really equal?

'Do it, Mabel. Show me you are equal!' He pressed. 

Alexandra's dam broke. 

Hot tears rolled down her cheeks. She knew crying was not a sign of weakness, but helpless tears were simply what she scorned. As they streamed down her face, Alexandra knew this was not the end. Lifting weights was not what Spies did. She had never claimed to be their "equal". She had said she was better. And she was - she didn't try her best to make someone's life hell. She didn't intimidate anybody. She wasn't like Watson. And yet, inexplicably, she didn't turn her heel and march off. Perhaps some part of her wanted to see their worst, so that she could retaliate with her best. Whatever the case, Alexandra let the failure crush her pride. 

'Look.' He concluded, after ten minutes of humiliation, scooping up the ball easily, in a single hand. 'That is the difference.' He said, 'That is why you cannot be here. Why you should not be here.'

Alexandra didn't know what to reply with. Still kneeling by the table she looked at Watson once, with the dirtiest expression one could bring forth while tears were still streaming down their eyes. Getting up and wiping her eyes with her arm's sleeve, she darted out of the hall, her insides churning at the insult.

'Was that a bit too much?' She heard Owen ask, tentatively.

'It should be enough to drive her out.' Watson replied, still vehement.

Alexandra returned to the room, no longer crying. She pulled off her cloak and threw it down.

'Who do you think you people are?' She demanded, to nobody in particular and stamping the cloak she'd dropped. A red hot lump of anger was swelling in her. She stared around herself, then - in a fit of a rage, picked up her cloak and tore it apart right from the middle.

'YOU THINK YOU CAN DO ANYTHING?' She shouted across the length of the room, kicking her pillow away, the laughs still coming from above. Whenever her tears poured, hot anger accompanied. 'You think that's enough to make me leave?' She hissed, standing in the room and heaving uncharacteristically. 'I shouldn't be here?!'

For that whole year, Alexandra had been close to failing, her grades - all very poor. She knew the seniors were thinking about putting her out, they said that they understood it was hard for a girl.

She gripped her mattress. Girl. 

She'd prove she could do it. She would prove to every single one of those boys that she was not employed to cook or clean. She'd prove she was the best spy Idgard could have - even if she couldn't lift a disc. She had been trying, but that night, Alexandra resolved that now, she would put in every drop of effort she possibly could. If they thought that was enough to make her leave, they couldn't have been more wrong. It was enough, only to make her work harder. She would squeeze all of it out. Do better than all of them. And rub it in their face - if she ever got the chance to.

* * *

The next morning, as she got up at three, Alexandra was vaguely shocked looking at the state of her cloak. Then she remembered the last night. And the whole year, the events, came tumbling down on her - like most of the other bad events.

'Yes,' she muttered to herself, rubbing her bleary eyes. 'I can do it.'

From then on, for a comfortable amount of time, Alexandra went on such a spree that she never looked back. There was no difference, other than that confidence level she'd reached. Everything almost happened by itself, she felt as though she was in a complete daze. But confidence was the really the key. It made the most unbelievable of things possible. From saying, "I can't do that," to saying, "This seems challenging, but I'll do it nevertheless". It was a laborious journey. And then came the fact of accepting her flaws - which were almost countless in Alexandra. Didn't flaws mean that were was scope of improvement? And as long as there WAS scope of improvement, Alexandra surmised, she had no reason to stop. 

And the biggest victory? Satisfaction.

She actually felt satisfied with what she was doing - nobody's praise could make her feel better, or their criticism - from which she definitely would learn - could make her feel any worse. Alexandra almost lived without regrets: a by far impossible thing to hold up for long, but at least for now - she did. Her grades improved and improved. The fifth-year examiners began regarding her with a new interest. She sometimes caught Master George staring at her intently, tracing his beard, deep in thought.

Alexandra heard more teasing - more mean things - more insults. But she laughed along at them. That didn't stop it. It just made her feel good about herself - laughing was easier than frowning. Much less messy.  

The first year ended too fast for her liking.

On the last day of the year was a passing ceremony. First, the new Agents who had completed their training (all the fifth-years that is), each got a batch pinned on their chests by the Master. Then, the three best of them were assigned a trial each. A trial was a posting, at some destination, where the Country wanted to keep a spy. They were given pigeons, to contact. The pigeons were specially trained. They just returned to the council no matter which corner of the world they were kept in. If the letter was for someone else, the council would see it delivered. Henry was one of the persons to get a trial. He looked rather smug about it.

'Good luck, Henry!' Alexandra yelled, sitting somewhere in the middle, whereas he stood right in front at the dais, but he of course knew it was she - the only female voice in the campus. 'And don't be so smug, Gertruda is not a holiday resort!' She added, making the everybody roar with laughter. Even Master George shook his head and his moustache quivered at the corners, Fannel laughed and pounded Henry (who was now red-eared) on the back.

Fannel himself, got a posting. He went all pale when it was announced to be Vellesmere. Alexandra wondered if he would refuse- they could do that- but thankfully he didn't.

They were to leave the next morning. After the Ceremony was over, Alexandra sat with her new-found Brother on the edge of the Lake for a last time that year, as a way of good-bye.

'I'm glad you didn't refuse your posting, Brother,' she said, 'And I'm proud of you. Not many have the strength to face their past.'

'I - don't know,' He replied, uncertainly. 'It will be over soon. You look after yourself. Don't go gadding after trouble. You have a strange way to find them.'

'Don't worry! You say like I'm the one going off to a different city all alone.'

'You will - one day.'

'Write me letters, brother.'

'As many as I can. The supervisors will be tired of giving them to you.' He promised, then half-smiled, 'You're changing, Mabel. And I can say - you're changing for the best.'