Ghazan: Part 2: Preparation

[rufusluciusivan]

**************

smooch!

It was the morning. Aisha kissed her lover’s neck. She was lying on her bed, enlacing Ezgi’s waist with her two arms, her stomach pressed against the other woman’s back. Both women were naked, Aisha could feel the warm skin of her lover.

“Ezgi?” she whispered. At the same time, she caressed the servant’s shapely legs with her feet.

The plump woman stirred. “Yes?”

smooch! An other kiss.

“If I asked you to help me sneak out of the palace again, would you do it?”

“I don’t think we’ll be able to pull off the same stunt as last time.” Ezgi sighed. “Such a shame. I really enjoyed it.”

Aisha shook her head. “Mother wasn’t duped. If we do something like that again, you’ll be in trouble, popular head servant or not.” (smooch!) “And I don’t want that...”

Ezgi giggled. “I like it when you worry for me… It turns me on…”

Aisha became very flustered.

“It also turns me on when you act so shy…” Ezgi immediately added.

“P-Please… I’m being serious.”

“Oh. Then, don’t worry. I’ll talk with the other maids. We can help you sneak out and give you a few hours. Though only tomorrow. Today, you’re supposed to meet your tutors for important lessons all day, and there’s a gathering this evening you have to attend to. I don’t have to remind you that you should be on your best behavior after your latest stunt…”

Aisha grimaced. She hated how every second of her life was micro-managed.

How it was as if she was some sort of weird animal who was being trained during lessons, and exposed during social gatherings...

“By the way… I want to be rewarded in advance… Here and now in fact.” Ezgi added.

Aisha frowned. It took her a few seconds to understand what her lover meant. “Oh! Of course!” Her hands wandered away from Ezgi’s stomach, and gently grabbed her breasts.

The plump young woman giggled, and closed her eyes to enjoy the massage. “Did I ever mention it turns me on the most when you act so naive…?” She was joking, but her voice was also sensual.

Aisha didn’t answer, but her cheeks were heating up fast. Because nothing turned her on more than Ezgi being blunt and upfront in the bedroom…

**************

Ezgi’s promise helped Aisha put up with her day.

While she enjoyed most of the subjects taught to her, the etiquette lessons were a pain to go through – and of course they were usually the longest. During the evening’s gathering, she forced herself to chit chat with other noblewomen, and failed at carrying on conversations. Her interlocutors remained all smiles, but she could see the spark of scorn in their eyes. As usual, Aisha had to hide her jealousy when she was seeing Yasmin navigate with ease from conversation to conversation.

And people wondered why she preferred to sneak out and carry on infiltration missions...

The next day, Aisha had to spend an other morning of lessons. Then, Ezgi and a few other maids made a story up to cover her absence up. They pretended Aisha would spend the afternoon with them to look for the new dress she’d wear for the upcoming state diners. While Ezgi and the maids would truly go buy a dress, their charge would slip away to see her team, and would regroup with them just before they returned to the palace.

Aisha felt a little guilty to ask the servants a favor. However, the idea of what Esteban could do if he sent agents to infiltrate the palace helped her focus on the task at hand.

Zaïde, Rasha, and Beatrix all came to the meeting she had planned in their usual hideout.

“We’ve lost a battle, but not the war. There’s no way I’m letting Esteban get the last laugh, and threaten my family.” she announced. “We’re going to fight back!”

She carefully observed her teammates’ reactions.

Rasha looked eager, of course. The thief relished the new challenge.

Beatrix frowned and crossed her arms. She clearly hated the idea. Nothing unusual.

However, she was surprised to see Zaïde was also looking enthusiastic – maybe even more than Rasha, although she wasn’t as outspoken.

“I have a lead.” her cousin even revealed. “About who Esteban is working with.”

“How?”

“I found a letter in his office.”

“You didn’t tell me.” Aisha remarked.

“I didn’t exactly have the time… Plus it turned out to be for the best. That way, Uncle didn’t confiscate the letter.”

Aisha couldn’t rebut her argument. “Care to say more?”

“I managed to get my hand on an other letter written by Esteban’s accomplice. However, it’s using a code and a fake name.” Zaïde explained. “If I want to decipher these letters, I need to recover an other document first.”

“Then we have a plan.” Aisha concluded. “We’ll start by unmasking Mendoza’s accomplice.”

She glanced at her partners, hesitated, and added:

“By the way. I suppose you’ve all received a letter from Esteban.”

Beatrix gruffed. It was her way of saying yes.

Zaïde lost her smile. “Oh. I was planning to tell you… I didn’t know you already knew...”

“Rasha told me. We’ll deal with that later. I trust all of you to do the right thing.”

“Of course.” Rasha intervened. She casted a meaningful look at Beatrix. “Our partnership has proven very profitable, after all…” she reminded.

The red-haired bounty huntress gruffed some more, and shrugged. “How do we start?”

Of course, Aisha didn’t have a plan yet – only a general direction.

Thankfully, Zaïde intervened. “I may have an idea.”

“You always have.” Beatrix remarked.

“I always have dozens of plans in a corner of my mind. Then it’s only a matter of finding which one is suited to the task at hand.”

“So what’s this plan?” Aisha asked.

“Follow me to the docks. I’ll explain it to you.”

**************

Some time later, clad in comfortable brown long-sleeved tunics, trousers and shoes, Aisha and her crew were pretending to be workers taking a rest on a wall.

(The real workers – a group of dark-skinned brown-haired women – were taking a nap in their undergarments inside one warehouse of the docks, courtesy of the sleeping drug Rasha had discreetly poured into the jug of wine their were sharing during their break. Once the women were asleep, it had been easy to drag them inside the building, to strip them down to their brown loincloths, and to conceal them in empty barrels. The drug would make them sleep for hours. Aisha and her companions hadn’t bothered with binding them.)

Zaïde discreetly pointed at a small crowd of people at the other side of the square. Most of them were foreigners.

“See that woman preaching on top of the crate? She’ll be our way to get the information I need.”

Said woman seemed to be conducting some sort of religious ritual in front of the crowd.

“I’ve never seen a priestess like that. Who’s she?” Rasha asked.

“A Sister of Prayer. To keep things simple, some sort of clergywoman from the Old Continent. There are a few of them in the city. They even have been authorized to build a temple. They conduct ceremonies for the immigrants from Felipe, the Free City-States, and the United Lands. And they try to convert new followers.”

“What’s with her hair? Is she some sort of water mage?”

The woman’s hair were indeed completely light blue.

Zaïde shook her head. “There is no magic anymore on the Old Continent. They’ve exterminated all magic users long ago. Women of her religious order use a special decoction to permanently turn their hair white when they are ordained. Then, they use a special dye that never goes away.”

“Talk about dedication…” Aisha commented.

“Now you see why you’re indispensable to my plan’s success. The secret of the dye they use is well-kept. Only a shapeshifter can mimic her hair colour.”

Aisha nodded, and glanced an other time at the priestess. The woman was older than her, but looked still young for someone so high-ranked – in her late twenties most likely. Her light blue hair made her easily noticeable in the streets. Said hair were pinned into an elaborate lofty bun with masses of shaped curls and braids. The woman had a white skin and blue eyes. She most likely had arrived in Ghazan recently, since she didn’t have a tan. When Aisha noticed the priestess’ soft round face, flawless skin, slim figure, shapely curves and round breasts, she couldn’t help but wonder if they were the reason why she had been sent to convert new followers.

The priestess was indeed leaving her religious hooded long-sleeved mantle open. Underneath, she was wearing a slim-fitted white short-sleeved tunic reaching up to her knees with a deep blue straight collar and deep blue embroideries with a spiral pattern. Said tunic wasn’t attempting to hide her womanly curves, contrary to the religious robes of Ghazan’s Church. Aisha supposed the theologies were different… A sea blue cloth was tied around the woman’s waist. Aisha could discern she was wearing white trousers under her long tunic, and brown sandals. A sea blue headband, adorned with a deep blue gemstone, was tied around her forehead. The priestess was also wearing jewels: earrings adorned with blue gemstones, bracelets made of a blue metal, and a necklace adorned with a blue gemstone. The priestess’ hooded mantle was white, and adorned with blue threads and embroideries forming a spiral pattern.

“And why do we need that woman’s appearance specifically?” Beatrix gruffly intervened.

“The clergy of the Great Goddess is a powerhouse in the Old Continent. Even more than the Church of the One True God here. They own many lands and ships, therefore many transactions actually go through them. And, more importantly, they are obsessed with archiving everything. Every single transaction. Every single meeting. Every single trial. Everything.” Zaïde explained. “El Idriss’ temple is no different. I want to get my hands on one specific file. If I can tally its content with what I found in the letters I stole, I’ll be able to deduce for sure the identity of Esteban’s employer. And I’ll also know for sure if they’re the one financing the pirates.”

Zaïde discreetly pointed at two other women with her finger.

“The plan is to have Aisha, Rasha, and I take the place of the priestess and her retinue. We enter the temple, Aisha goes inside the wing reserved for high-ranked officials, steal the file I want in the archives, and we leave.”

The Sister of Prayer was indeed escorted by two other women.

The first one was most likely some sort of assistant. She was shorter than her two companions, with a slim figure which was making her look young and frail. Compared to her companions, her curves were looking plain. She had golden brown eyes and a light skin. Her dark brown hair were short, save for one longer strand on each cheek. Her hairdo was a square cut.
She was wearing clothes which were modest-looking, but of high quality. Her white religious hooded mantle was tailored to look like the Sister’s one, but the threads and embroideries forming a spiral pattern were black. Underneath, she was wearing a black short-sleeved knee-long tunic with white embroideries, a white cloth sash, black trousers, and brown sandals.

The second woman was a tall athletic-looking buxom blonde with blue eyes and a white skin.
She was clad in black boots, black trousers, a white tunic, a light chainmail designed to offer good protection without being too heavy, and a white tabard with a hood. Stylized blue, green, red and purple spirals were adorning the tabard. A belt with a sheathed sword was tied around her waist.

“It’s the blond one we have to be wary about. She’s a Sister of Battle.” Zaïde added. “She’s part of a religious military order. Her sword isn’t for show.”

Beatrix looked less than thrilled by their mission. “Do we have to follow such an overcomplicated scheme?”

“I don’t see why you’re complaining. You’re the one who’ll take the less risks.” Aisha remarked to the redhead.

Beatrix glared daggers at her.

“And you’re the one who’ll have the most fun, Aisha!” Rasha jokingly intervened.

“It’s not my fault I’m the only one who can mimic her hair color.” the princess explained. She glanced at Zaïde. “But I won’t be able to copy her face.”

The busty woman shrugged. “Don’t worry. The woman is a newcomer. The hair will be enough to fool everyone. Outside of her escort, there aren’t many people who know her enough to spot the differences. And none of them should be in the building when you infiltrate it. Normally.”

“I don’t like your way of reassuring me…”

“What about the language?” Rasha asked.

Aisha smiled. “Thank my parents, who insisted I learned as many languages as possible.”

“We won’t have the time to put my plan into motion today.” Zaïde concluded, as she knew Aisha had to soon return to the palace if she didn’t want her absence to be noticed. “I’ll warn you of the day we’ll strike. Aisha, you have to make sure you can be out of the palace for at least five hours.”

Aisha grimaced. “I’ll ask Ezgi for help. But I won’t be able to do it before three days. Tomorrow, there are state dinners with Bommare’s emissaries. And the next day with-”

“We get it. You’re a busy woman.” Rasha playfully intervened. “Don’t worry. We can wait.”

**************

Mélusine was feeling happy. The blue-haired Sister of Prayer adjusted her haircut and her jewels, then checked one last time her religious outfit. She smoothed the tunic and the hooded mantle, and tightened a little her cloth sash, her headband, and her sandals. She needed to look perfect.

Today, Mélusine had an appointment with Latife El’Reza, a wealthy widow who was willing to make a donation to the clergy. A hefty donation. And Mélusine was the one she had contacted.

The clergy of the Great Goddess was attempting to convert new believers in the kingdom of Ghazan. However, they were also looking for wealthy patrons.

Mélusine smiled to herself. Her success would impress all the other Sisters of Prayer! While the various branches of the clergy always stood united in front of outsiders, competition was encouraged internally to push everyone to strive for perfection.

She glanced at her two companions. Her aide, Margaret, was walking to her right. She was carrying a notebook in silence, a look of concentration on her face. Her bodyguard, Joan, was walking to her left. The blond Sister of Battle was carefully scanning the surroundings, looking for any threat. The clergy of the Great Goddess wasn’t exactly well-liked by many people in El Idriss. Ghazan’s Church distrusted them, and many of their followers shared the sentiment. Of course, nothing worst than a rotten fruit or a bar brawl had happened yet, but one was never too cautious.

The blue-haired Sister of Prayer and her retinue were greeted in front of Latife’s manor by two maids. The women looked plain-looking; with their white servant tunics, white cloth sashes wrapped around the waist, white ankle-long skirts, sandals, and ponytails tied up with a white ribbon.

The two maids led Mélusine, Margaret, and Joan into the main sitting room. Latife was waiting for them.

Mélusine was briefly taken aback by the noblewoman’s gorgeous appearance. The blue-haired priestess wasn’t into women, but she could recognize a stunning woman when she saw one. Latife was a brown-haired beauty with curly hair, deep green eyes, and flawless curves.

The noblewoman was wearing fancy clothes: a red one-piece dress with green ample sleeves and a matching collar. A golden yellow cloth sash was tied around her waist.

Mélusine respectfully saluted her host, careful to use Ghazan’s ritual.

Latife smiled. She apparently greatly appreciated the priestess’ effort.

“Why don’t you allow your retinue to get some rest? There are refreshments in the kitchen.” she proposed.

“Great idea.” Mélusine looked at her assistant and her bodyguard. “Please. Enjoy our host’s hospitality.”

The blond bodyguard hesitated. “I’m not quite sure-”

“Please. I don’t see what danger I could be in.”

“Don’t worry. Your charge is in good hands.” Latife added. “And my maids went to the trouble to prepare more food for you.”

“… I see.”

Margaret and Joan complied.

Mélusine’s attention remained focused on her host.

She barely noticed one of the maids swiftly leaving the room right after her retinue.

**************

The corridors of the manor were adorned with many works of art, but Margaret wasn’t in the mood to admire them. Nor was she in the mood to eat or drink

“Go eat without me. I’m taking a walk. I want some time alone.” she told Joan.

The blonde shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She went to the kitchen.

The short aide decided to wander in the corridors, looking at the precious paintings on the walls. She was rubbing her temples as she walked the corridors. The mor days passed, the more she resented having to obey Mélusine’s commands. Sometimes, it was hard for her to keep a neutral face.

She was only second of our class...

Margaret and Mélusine had joined the clergy as novices at the same time. They had taken the tests to become a Sister of Prayer at the same time.

Margaret had scored the highest during the tests of knowledge. Mélusine was second. Unfortunately, knowledge wasn’t the only criterion. Mélusine was good-looking, whereas Margaret was plain. The Great Goddess was first and foremost the deity of fertility who had given birth to humanity. Physical appearance was a selection criterion to choose the Sisters and Brothers of Prayer. Some claimed it was vain, but they usually forgot the priests and priestesses were the face of the clergy. And most people were vain enough to prefer to hear good-looking people talk, even if most would never admit it.

Margaret couldn’t even blame Mélusine. The latter was only slightly less good than her in academics. Good enough for her looks to make the difference. From the start, Margaret had known the rules. But it didn’t make her failure any less painful...

The short woman resented her plain appearance. Had she looked more beautiful, she would have worked with Mélusine as her equal and not as her assistant. Now, all she could do was to try to appreciate the little pleasures of life.

A ray of sun and a golden reflection caught her attention.

There was a gold coin lying in the middle of the corridor, right next to a door leading to a lounge room.

Speaking of the little pleasures of life...

Margaret’s face brightened. She smiled from ear to ear.

“Would you look at that…” She bent forward, and picked up the gold coin. “Hello you~. Who’s gonna pay me some good booze tonight? Heh… Heh…”

Margaret interrupted her chuckle when two hands grabbed her shoulders from behind. The short woman frowned quizzically. “Uh?”

Margaret was pulled backward, into the lounge room. “Woah?!” she squeaked. She dropped her coin. The short woman disappeared inside the lounge room, as if she was being swallowed. The door was kicked to conceal her.

The sounds of a brief scuffle followed suit. Several pieces of furniture were sent flying across the room. The door shook slightly. However, its wooden frame muffled the groans, grunts, and noises of the fight.

A few seconds later, there was only silence.

The door was opened again. Rasha was smiling victoriously. Her hair and current clothes were messed up though. Margaret had proven to be a surprisingly good fighter. Her kicks were mean...

The thief nimbly picked up the coin she had purposefully left to bait her target. She grinned. “The oldest tricks…” Then she entered the storage room again, and closed the door.

**************

Joan went to the kitchen.

The blonde was a basic woman, who preferred to live in the present. She had been promised a good meal, so she was going to enjoy it.

The room was empty. Apparently, Latife only had two maids. There were indeed a few drinks and some food on the table. The Sister of Battle went to grab some.

However, just as she was about to take a bite, the blonde suddenly paused and frowned.

bom bom bom

She thought she was hearing some muffled noises coming from behind one door.

It was the one leading to the cellar.

Joan glanced around her.

Wouldn’t hurt to check… Nobody would be here to see her nosing around...

The blonde opened the door.

She let out an exclamation of surprise when she saw what was inside.

Or, more precisely, who was inside.

There were three women. Three half-naked bound-and-gagged women.

Two of them, clad in plain grey sleeveless knee-long slips, were sitting bound back to back, with their wrists tied in front of the other’s stomach and a rope wrapped around their waists. Their ankles and knees were also bound with ropes, and they were gagged with kitchen rags. Both women had a tanned skin. One had hazel brown eyes and dark-auburn hair. The other had green eyes and brown hair. Both women’s hair were down, as if somebody had stolen the ribbons they used to tie them up. They were mewling in their gags, and pleadingly looked at Joan.

The third woman was squirming on the floor. She had long curly black hair tied into a braid, golden brown eyes, and a black skin. Brown ropes and strips of tableclothes were restraining her shoulders, her wrists, her thighs, her knees, and her ankles. A thick piece of cloth was gagging her. She was clad in a bright pink loincloth wrapped around her hips and between her legs, and a matching strip of cloth was wrapped around her breasts and adorned with gold sequins.

“What is going on here?!”

Joan approached the black-haired woman wearing the fancy undergarments, and removed her gag.

“I’m the real Latife!” the latter immediately exclaimed. “Some ruffians broke into my home! They robbed me and my maids of our clothes!”

The two other women moaned together in their gags, and nodded vigorously to confirm her story.

Joan moved to untie Latife. However, she was interrupted by the sounds of footsteps. The blonde turned towards the direction of the noise.

There was a woman standing in the entrance of the cellar, dressed in a desert coat. She was aiming a jezail at Joan. The blonde couldn’t properly see the woman’s face. Her hood was hiding it.

Joan realized this was the end. Her opponent was out of reach. She had no chance to draw her sword or wrestle the armed woman in time. But she was a Sister of Battle! She certainly wouldn’t die on her knees. She stood up, and raised her chin as a gesture of defiance.

**************

When she saw the blonde act as if she was going to die a martyr, Beatrix rolled her eyes. “Overdramatic, much?”

She pressed the trigger. A blue ray hit the Sister of Battle in the forehead.

The blonde staggered and frowned. Her intent to face death with dignity was ruined by the weird funny grimace she did when the blue ray hit her. She squinted, and staggered.

Then she let out a long moan, and crumbled backwards onto the floor. Beatrix walked towards her.

“Strange. This is the first time one sounds like that.”

“How dare you?! Untie me! Untie me at once!” Latife started to complain.

“Oh, just shut up!”

Beatrix put her gag back on.

“GGGGMMMMPPPHHHH!”

She ignored the muffled protests of the real Latife and her maids, and approached the unconscious Joan, who was lying on her back, deeply unconscious.

**************

“I know your clergy prefers written contracts, so I took the liberty of writing one.” Latife announced.

Mélusine smiled slightly. “The gesture is appreciated.” she complimented her host.

The busty noblewoman chuckled lightly, and her plain-looking maid put a sheet of paper onto the small table.

Mélusine glanced at it. “May I?”

“Of course.”

The blue-haired priestess grabbed the contract to read it. The maid walked away.

At that moment, Mélusine made her mistake.

Her attention was so focused on the precious contract, that she didn’t notice the servant had walked behind her. The maid pulled out a handkerchief, and poured sleeping potion onto it.

Mélusine finished reading the piece of paper. “You’ve made the right decision.” she commented.

“I often do.” her host answered with a cryptic smile.

The kerchief was clamped from behind the sofa over Mélusine’s mouth and nose.

**************

Aisha gritted her teeth. With one hand, she firmly kept the smelly handkerchief pressed against the blue-haired woman’s nose and mouth. She wrapped her other arm around Mélusine’s upper-body, and pulled her backwards against the sofa to unbalance her.

Mélusine jerked in all directions. The woman flailed her legs, kicking the small table away. She was letting out loud indignant muffled shrieks.

‘Latife’, in truth Zaïde in disguise, quickly grabbed Mélusine’s calves, and blocked them.

“Please take it easy. We wouldn’t want you to rip your gorgeous clothes…” she commented.

Mélusine’s muffled screams became angrier.

However, her frantic struggles were only speeding up her loss of consciousness. Her eyelids started to flicker, and her struggles became weaker and weaker.

Finally, her eyes closed and her head lolled to the side. Her body relaxed. She slumped onto the sofa.

**************

Rasha laid Margaret onto a carpet, and rolled her onto her back. She unlaced the aide’s cloth sash. Next, she lifted the short woman’s arms and upper-body to remove her religious mantle and her tunic. Margaret was using white bandages wrapped around the chest to cover her breasts. Then, Rasha took off the woman’s sandals, and lifted her legs. She slipped the trousers off Margaret’s legs. Underneath, the short woman was wearing white thigh-long underdrawers.

Now that Margaret was down to her underwear, Rasha rolled her onto her back, and cross-tied the short woman’s wrists behind her back. She wrapped a second coil of rope around Margaret’s calves. Finally, she shoved a rag into the woman’s mouth, and cleave-gagged her with a rag.

**************

Beatrix glanced at Joan’s outfit. According to the plan, the redhead was supposed to strip her to buy Zaïde time. However, the bounty huntress didn’t like much the idea. She knew where and when her mind would wander…

One blink, and she was suddenly back there. Five years ago. The war.

They were called ocēlōmeh. Pakal soldiers specialized in guerrilla warfare, ambushes, and infiltration of enemy lines.

Ghazan’s army had quickly learned to fear them. They would strike during the night, ambush the sentries, slit their throats, put on their clothes, and then sabotage the supplies.

Beatrix remembered how she had felt, when she and Mira had discovered Nawfa’s corpse.

The half-naked body was hidden in a ditch, with only bandages and a loincloth to cover her modesty, lying in a puddle of her own blood. Her throat was slit from ear to ear. Beatrix couldn’t take her eyes off the sight.

“It could’ve been me… She asked me to change shift with her…” the redhead kept saying. “Had she not asked me, I would have been in that ditch...”

Beatrix couldn’t stand Aisha’s, Zaïde’s or Rasha’s happy-go-lucky attitudes. She knew what infiltration was supposed to be. A brutal tool of war. Not a funny game.

However, the redhead was also a professional. She had a contract.

But Esteban’s letter was still in her pocket… And he was offering so much money...

Beatrix groaned in annoyance, and bent forward to strip the motionless blond Sister of Battle. She started with the belt, tabard, chainmail, and tunic. Then she pulled off the boots and trousers.

Latife and her two maids moaned in their gags. The redhead growled angrily at them. They immediately stopped and kept quiet.

Underneath, Joan was wearing blues knee-long underdrawers tied with a string around the waist, and a blue sleeveless top.

Now that the Sister of Battle was reduced to her most intimate garments, Beatrix grabbed a few coils of rope.

This one was the strongest of the bunch. Zaïde wanted her to be thoroughly restrained.

Beatrix bound the blonde’s wrists and forearms behind her back. Then she used a technique called the harness bondage to immobilize Joan’s upper-body. She immobilized her ankles with an other rope. Next, she hog-tied the woman, with a rope connecting her bound wrists to her bound ankles. A thick cloth-gag was used to silence the blonde.

**************

Zaïde and Aisha laid Mélusine onto the soft carpet, and removed her outfit.

First, Zaïde grabbed the woman’s legs one after the other, and each time lifted them the time to unlace and remove the brown sandals. At the same time, Aisha pulled off Mélusine’s white hooded mantle adorned with blue embroideries. Next, Aisha untied and took off the sea blue cloth sash wrapped around the waist, and held the priestess’ arms up and slipped her white-and-blue tunic off. Finally, they snatched all the woman’s jewels and her sea blue headband.

Mélusine was left clad in her undergarments: short deep blue knickers cut to only cover the pelvis and waist, not the thighs; and a brassiere with cups made of deep blue cloth and white shoulder straps.

Aisha glanced at the priestess’ undergarments.

“Uh. That’s new.”

“They call it a brassiere. Or bra, for short.” Zaïde explained.

Aisha frowned. “Bah-rah?”

“B-R-A. And her underdrawers are called knickers or panties. They’re novelties from the United Lands. You see more and more of these things now that trade with the Old Continent has intensified…” Zaïde explained.

“It looks a bit strange… but also comfortable…” Aisha commented. She resisted the urge to poke at the bra’s cups with her finger.

“Want to take these ones to try?” her cousin joked.

Aisha’s cheeks heated out. “What?! Of course not!”

Zaïde laughed, but didn’t insist. She lifted Mélusine’s limp upper-body to move her into a seated position. She crossed the priestess’ wrists behind her back, and tied them with a rope. Then, she wrapped coils of rope around the woman’s arms, above and below her bra-covered chest.

“I bet you’re imagining Ezgi in those underwear right now…” the busty woman said when she caught a glimpse of her cousin still glancing at the bra.

Aisha was busy wrapping a rope around Mélusine’s calves, from the ankles to the knees, to immobilize the woman’s legs. She was doing her best to not look anymore at the bra and panties. “Sh- Shut up…”

Zaïde was, of course, true. Aisha mentally pushed away the image of Ezgi wearing sexy bra and knickers.

They finished their work by stuff-gagging and cleave-gagging the underwear-clad Mélusine with white scarves.

**************

Aisha and her crew left Mélusine, Margaret, and Joan concealed in the cellar with Latife and her two maids. The bound-and-gagged priestess and her aide were seated in a corner of the room, heads resting against each other. The hog-tied bodyguard was lying on her left side next to them, with her head on Mélusine’s lap.

Zaïde and Rasha took the time to make each prisoner breath some sleeping potion, to make sure they’d be out of commission for a few hours. Then they also knocked out Latife and her maids with sleeping potion. Once all the bound-and-gagged women were sound asleep, Aisha, Zaïde, and Rasha slipped into their disguises.

Rasha put on Margaret’s clothes, and Zaïde slipped into Joan’s garments.

Aisha put on Mélusine’s outfit. Then, Zaïde did her hair, copying the Sisters’s hairdo, and helped her put on the jewels.

“I just love when a plan goes without a hitch…” the busty woman commented.

Beatrix, who was leaning against a wall, grumbled. “I’m still convinced there were less convoluted ways… I mean, we had to send a letter imitating Latife’s writing to give the priestess an appointment, then to ambush all the inhabitants of this manor to assume their identities before our real targets arrived, and finally to ambush the priestess and her escort to assume THEIR identities.”

The others ignored her.

Zaïde had brought with her a box full of make-up and dyes of the finest quality. The best ones money and status could buy. She and Rasha used some to dye their hair the right colors. Then they grabbed a pot full of a cream they carefully applied on their faces and all their exposed body parts to lighten their skin, until they looked like Margaret and Joan. At the same time, Aisha used her power to copy Mélusine’s hair, eyes, and skin tone colors.

Once the three women were done, the result was convincing. Stunning even.

They shared a smile – the satisfaction of a heist perfectly executed. Then they gathered Mélusine’s and her retinue’s stuff, and exited the building.

Beatrix didn’t follow them. She would stay near Latife’s manor, so that she could warn the rest of the crew if somebody discovered the bound-and-gagged women inside too soon.

**************

The temple of the Great Goddess had been built near the harbor. Its foreign architecture made it stand out in the city.

When she arrived in front of the gates, Aisha played the part of the confident Sister of Prayer. Zaïde and Rasha were walking in her shadow, trying to be as discreet as possible. In spite of the hair dye and skin make-up, they weren’t perfect lookalikes. Aisha therefore had to divert the attention.

The ruse worked. Many guards were stationed around the building, dressed in the same outfits as Joan, but they only gave Aisha and her friends a quick disinterested glance.

The blue hair and outfit were enough to fool them.

The temple’s inside was designed to impress visitors, with many sculptures and low reliefs showing the Great Goddess. Aisha noticed she was always portrayed as a buxom beautiful woman.

Zaïde had studied the layout of the temple. She discreetly gave instructions to her cousin, and led them into an empty study room.

“Sisters of Prayer live inside their temple. The key to the archives’ door is most likely in Mélusine’s bedroom. This area is restricted to high-ranked officials. We won’t be able to follow you.” Zaïde explained. “You remember what to do?”

“Get in Mélusine’s bedroom, grab her set of keys, go to the archives room, pick up the file you want, and return back to you. Simple.”

Zaïde gave her a small transparent crystal. “If I see guards come your way, I’ll activate my crystal. Yours will heat and become red.”

Aisha nodded. “Understood.”

“Good luck.”

**************

Aisha had studied a map of the building beforehand, and had memorized the path to the priestesses’ bedrooms and the archives room.

She didn’t come across many people on her way. At this time of the day and week, the temple was mostly empty. All the officials were doing errands. Only guards and a couple of acolytes and servants remained. None of the people gave Aisha more than a passing glance. Just like with the guards outside, the blue hair were enough.

Aisha reached her first destination, and unlocked the bedroom’s door with the only key she had found on Mélusine.

Too bad she didn’t carry all her keys on herself… Would have saved me some trouble...

Mélusine’s bedroom was tidy and comfortable, but without unnecessary luxury. A one-person bed, a wardrobe for the clothes, a desk, a chair, and a bookcase.

Aisha searched the desk, and found the Sister’s set of keys.

Easy.

Suddenly, somebody knocked at the door.

Aisha froze. Crap! I forgot to lock the door! The crystal Zaïde had given her was still transparent and cold. So it couldn’t be a guard.

The door was opened.

“Mélusine! So glad you returned early to the temple!”

Crap. Crap. Crap.

Zaïde had assured nobody who knew Mélusine was going to be in the temple today. Apparently, she had made a miscalculation.

The newcomer was an other Sister of Prayer. However, her hair were dyed forest green. Her outfit was similar to Mélusine’s, except that the collar of the tunic, the embroideries and threads on the tunic and the hooded mantle, the cloth sash, the headband with its gemstone, and the jewels were all green.

The woman was light-skinned. Just like Mélusine, she was probably a foreigner from the Old Continent who had arrived recently. Her eyes were blue-green. She was good-looking, with a tall figure, an aquiline profile, round breasts, and nice-looking hips. Her lofty elaborate bun was identical to Mélusine’s.

“I know I wasn’t supposed to be here today. But-”

The green-haired woman realized Aisha was keeping her back turned on her.

“Don’t you recognize me? It’s me, Silvia! Are you listening to me? You-”

The Sister grabbed Aisha’s shoulder to make her turn. Her eyes widened.

“You’re not-”

Aisha jumped her, clamping a hand onto the Sister’s mouth to silence her.

The two women rolled onto the floor. Several pieces of furniture fell when they hit them in their fight. Aisha took advantage of the element of surprise, and managed to pin her opponent onto the floor with her legs, still hand-gagging her. Silvia struggled to get free and call for help. She was groaning and grunting. It was only a matter of seconds before she would free her mouth and scream.

Aisha sighed internally. I wish I didn’t have to do it…

Her hand glowed.

The Sister squeaked. Her eyes widened suddenly, and her body relaxed.

“Stay calm… Everything’s going to be alright…”

Silvia answered with a soft moan.

Aisha’s touch was comparable to alcohol or a powerful drug. It brought pleasure, but dulled the senses. One could fight off the effects, but it required time and willpower.

The Sister stared vacantly. Aisha was still hand-gagging her, but she could feel the other woman smile widely.

“Mmm… mmm...”

The rebellious princess ignored Silvia’s moans, and looked all around her, searching for a way to knock out her opponent.

She saw a metallic chalice on the floor nearby, which had fallen during the struggle. It looked sturdy enough to do the trick. She grabbed it with her free hand.

“Sorry about that…”

She hit a very precise spot of the woman’s temple. I hope Azeneth told the truth in her tales...

The green-haired Sister grunted, but then her body went still and her eyelids closed. Aisha checked her breath and pulse. She was unconscious.

Aisha let out a breath of relief. However, she then realized a part of her tunic was ripped. “Great… What now?”

She glanced at Silvia. The green-haired woman’s tunic and mantle were crumpled, but intact. Aisha could take her clothes, but she would have to modify her appearance, since apparently the outfits were color-coded with the hair.

Aisha quickly thought to herself. “I have to improvise. Changing my hair color shouldn’t be a problem. Same with the eyes. The Sisters share the same haircut. Mine is a bit roughed up, but I can salvage it alone. Normally, taking the identity of any Sister will do the trick. Plus, I need to hide this one out of the way anyway.”

The princess made up her mind.

She rolled Silvia onto her back, and stripped her off her outfit. First, she slipped off the hooded mantle, the cloth sash, and the short-sleeved tunic. Then, she pulled off the sandals and the trousers. Finally, she removed the headband and all the jewels, first the earrings, then the necklace, and then the bracelets.

Silvia was wearing a green brassiere and matching knickers. However, hers were more ornamented than Mélusine’s. The tops of the cups of Silvia’s bra were adorned with small green leaves made of cloth. There was also one small leaf made of cloth on the top center of her panties.

Aisha removed her current outfit and, since it was already damaged, she didn’t hesitate to cut Mélusine’s mantle and tunic into makeshift bonds. She cross-tied Silvia’s wrists, then bound her ankles and her knees. Finally, she shoved a balled up piece of cloth into her mouth, and tightly wrapped a larger strip of cloth around her lower-face as a gag.

There wasn’t enough room under Mélusine’s bed to hide a body, so Aisha laid the bound-and-gagged Silvia onto the mattress, and fully covered her with the blanket to conceal her. She took a few steps back to check her work. A person entering the bedroom would believe Mélusine was simply sleeping. They wouldn’t see it was in truth a trussed up gagged woman.

Aisha then put on as quickly as possible the green-haired priestess’ clothes. She also used her power to change her hair and eye colors. After checking herself and her hairdo in the bedroom’s mirror, she decided her appearance was decent enough to do the trick, provided nobody looked too closely at her.

Then she exited the bedroom, the key to the archives in her hand. She had to hurry up. Because of her encounter with Silvia, she was late.

**************

Aisha was hoping nobody would notice her clothes were crumpled. Following Zaïde’s instructions, the fake Sister of Prayer reached the wing in which the temple’s archives were located.

She paused.

Two men were guarding the corridor. One was tall and lanky, the other was short and burly. They would have looked comical, if their weapons weren’t so sharp. For some reason, Aisha could feel they were stronger than the guards outside. It was probably the way they stood.

Aisha mustered up her courage, and adjusted her religious robe. I’m a Sister of Prayer. I’m right where I’m supposed to be, and I’m way above these two.

The fake priestess went into the guards’ field of vision. Aisha played her part. She was walking confidently.

The short guard hesitated. He began to speak. “Milady-”

His tall colleague interrupted him with a light elbow jab.

Aisha glared at them. “Is there a problem?” she sternly asked.

“There’s no problem, milady.”

Aisha nodded. She walked past the two guards.

The tall man was saying something to his colleague. He was keeping his voice low.

However, Aisha discreetly slowed down her walk once their backs were turned on her. She managed to hear part of what he was saying.

“… too risky… better not create an incident... orders are to look for the blue-haired one only… has no reason to mug an other...”

Aisha felt a shiver down her spine. She realized that if she had followed her team’s plan to the letter, she would have been captured…

Still, she wasn’t out of the woods yet. For now, the priority was to finish the mission. She could deal with everything else later. The young woman entered the room.

The temple’s archive room was tidy and clean. Aisha didn’t complain at all. It would make her work easier!

Zaïde had written on a piece of paper the classification mark of the file she needed. It didn’t take Aisha long to find it – all the documents were perfectly classified.

The document was a notebook seemingly filled with contracts, journey reports, and transactions. She picked it up.

At the same time, Aisha’s mind was racing.

There was only one reason why the guards would know in advance who they had to look for.

Somehow, they had learned of her plan.

The princess realized one of her teammates was maybe a traitor…

Stealing the notebook now almost looked like an afterthought.

The guards watched Aisha when she passed in-between them for the second time. She sweated a little when the short one seemed about to call her, but he hesitated just long enough for her to leave their field of vision.

The two men were clearly beginning to become suspicious, but not enough to risk an incident by capturing the wrong person. However, Aisha was aware they could change their mind any minute now. She didn’t have much time. The moment she was alone, she started to walk as fast as she could.

When she regrouped with Zaïde and Rasha in the common room, the two women raised an eyebrow while looking at her robe. They didn’t need any word to express their feeling.

“I had no choice. An other Sister saw I was an impostor. There’s no time to waste. They’re having suspicions. They may even have already sounded the alarm.”

Zaïde and Rasha didn’t question her judgment. They nodded.

One minute later, they were exiting the building. At that moment, they heard some bustle inside the temple. Without a word, they hurried up, and disappeared inside an alleyway.

Just in time. Guards were now running outside the temple.

**************

The run towards their hideout gave Aisha the time to think about the latest events, and to try to understand the situation. She was convinced there was one traitor in her group. The guards knew too many details about the operation. Details only people privy to the plan could know. They couldn’t have heard them from an other source. However, at the same time, the guards stationed outside the temple didn’t seem to have been warned. Why?

Aisha wasn’t an expert at court intrigues, but she wasn’t dumb either. She suspected this decision had a hidden motive.

If only the guards inside the temple had received instructions to arrest the “blue-haired priestess”, then it probably was because Aisha’s enemy was hoping she would be caught inside the building. Why would they want that?

Suddenly, Aisha found the answer. To cause a scandal. To catch a royal princess robbing a temple like a common thief. Had the guards outside tried to arrest her, she would have been able to flee before they could recognize her.

The man behind the plan was obvious. Esteban Mendoza.

Though why wasn’t I ambushed in the study room? Aisha felt she was missing some important detail, but for now she wasn’t able to find what.

During the debriefing, Aisha did her best to hide her feelings. She didn’t share her suspicions with any of her teammates.

Aisha also carefully observed the faces of her three comrades. Several days had passed between the moment Zaïde had explained her plan, and the actual operation. All three women had had the time to warn Esteban or the guards. She tried to see if someone was hiding disappointment that the operation was a success. Unfortunately, the princess wasn’t very good at reading faces. Yasmin was a lot better...

Beatrix was looking sour – but it wasn’t a proof. She was always looking sour.

Rasha was looking petulant – as usual.

Zaïde was looking pleased with the outcome – but Zaïde was also a mistress of court intrigues, trained to hide her emotions.

Who was the most likely suspect? Beatrix had had the most opportunities, since she had remained outside the whole time. But she also seemed too boorish to come up with complicated betrayals.

“It’ll most likely take me quite some time.” Zaïde was explaining. “But then I’ll have all the information I need. In the meantime-”

She was interrupted by a knock at the door. The person knocked three times, waited, then knocked three more times.

The four women relaxed. Whoever the newcomer was, they knew the code.

A woman wearing a desert cloak to hide her face entered. She pulled it off.

It was Ezgi.

“Quick! Aisha, come with me! We have a problem!”

**************

The servant and her princess quickly returned to the palace. Aisha changed her hair’s color – green would be too, but didn’t waste time removing Silvia’s outfit. She simply put on a desert cloak over it to conceal the green colors. She’d change clothes in the palace.

“Your mother has requested your presence.” Ezgi was explaining. “The girls bought you as much time as they could. We’re already late.”

They entered the building through the servant’s backdoor. Two of Aisha’s maids were waiting for them. They were holding an interior dress.

“Hurry up, Ezgi. They’ve already asked after her two times.”

The three servants changed Aisha’s clothes in record time.

“Quick! Quick! The others are waiting!”

The rebellious princess was feeling nervous. Had her parents, Yasmin, or anyone else discovered her latest escapade?

“You’ll burn the priestess outfit immediately. We can’t leave any proof.” Ezgi instructed one girl. “I’ll sell the jewels later, and we’ll share the money among the staff.”

Once clad in a proper outfit, Aisha was led by the other maid maid inside a room.

She refrained a grimace when she saw Yasmin was already waiting here. Her twin wasn’t saying anything. Her eyes were expressive enough.

You’re late. they were saying.

However, the woman waiting with her wasn’t Yuka.

Aisha immediately thought there was something weird with that person’s appearance.

She had good memory for faces and body types (just like any person stealing clothes). This woman didn’t look like any ethnic type she knew.

She was as pale as someone from northern Gengis – her skin color reminded Aisha of Yisüi, a friend of her parents who was their contact with the khanates. However, her hair were black and coarse, and her face was oval-shaped with a tall forehead – like a citizen of Pakal. Her eyes were green and round-shaped, like a Ghazan native. She was of average size, with a generic body silhouette.

The unknown woman went straight to the point. “You’re finally here. Good. My name is Sor’Homa.” she introduced herself.

Aisha walked next to her sister. “I’ve never seen you in the palace before. Why did Mother send you to see us?” she asked.

Yasmin discreetly elbowed her. She wasn’t acting like a proper princess.

“Let’s just say she asked for a favor.” Sor’Homa explained. “I know about your mother’s past. The past Yor’Huka turned her back on.” She looked at Yasmin and Aisha. “Jas’Ymin and Jah’Ysha. I’m part of your mother’s race.”

It took the two sisters a few seconds to recover from the surprise. That explained the woman’s peculiar physical appearance. She was a shapeshifter.

“I thought Mother didn’t have contacts with her kind anymore…” Yasmin finally commented.

“Our race is dwindling. We try to keep tabs on every member, even the outcasts. And even the half-breeds.”

Aisha opened her mouth to retort something, but Yasmin put a hand on her shoulder to order her to stay quiet.

“We won’t be rude with you. Because you’re our Mother’s guest. And also because we then wouldn’t have the right to criticize your rudeness.” Her voice was expressing just enough scorn to get her point across.

Aisha smiled defiantly.

Sor’Homa grimaced, but didn’t argue further. “Your mother committed many crimes, but she also did a lot for us. Thanks to her, Ghazan is now a safe haven for our kind. We owe her a favor. This is why I’m here. She asked me to help you with your powers.”

Yasmin and Aisha exchanged a look. There was a glimmer of understanding between them. The twin sisters had many differences, but they both had a hard time accepting that their powers were weak. It was making them feel inadequate.

“Why would Mother do that?” Aisha asked.

Such decision was strange. The rebellious princess had recently gotten in trouble because she had sneaked into the embassy. Why would her Mother suddenly ask a shapeshifter to teach her things about her powers?

Sor’Homa was growing impatient. “That’s a question you’ll have to ask her. Do you want my advice or not?”

Aisha kept quiet.

Sor’Homa looked at the two young women.

“Your lack of power is strange, even when compared to other half-bree- (she corrected herself) mixed children.”

“It means we’re too weak…?” Aisha grumbled.

Sor’Homa shook her head. “Think! What is the difference between you two and most other people?

The sisters exchanged a glance.

“We’re twins.” they answered in unison.

“Exactly. I suspect your powers are weaker because they’ve been split in-between you two. Your brother’s powers are weaker than a full-blooded shapeshifter, but not as weak as yours. At least, they would be if he trained them...”

Indeed, Ahmed didn’t care much about his shapeshifter legacy. He had inherited their father’s love for science and engineering. He spent all his free time with the palace’s scholars, studying power crystals and other inventions. Tellingly, he wasn’t here right now for Sor’Homa’s lesson.

“So you mean our touch could be stronger if we used it together on the same person?”

“Quite certainly, yes.”

Aisha quickly glanced at her sister. Yasmin was purposefully ignoring her now.

Yeah… As if she’d one day agree to help me...

The rebellious princess was still wondering why Yuka had asked Sor’Homa this favor. Was it her way to apologize for not having taken Aisha’s side? Did she want her daughters to train because of Esteban’s threat? Or maybe her mother was trying to get a point across. ‘You’ll never be able to use your powers to their full potential, so you might as well give up.’…

“Mother will meet us after the lesson.” Yasmin suddenly whispered to her. She had guessed what her twin was thinking. “She’ll explain everything then.”

Aisha glanced at her sister, and raised an eyebrow.

“Now, I’ll teach you a few exercises to hone your skills. Come closer.” Sor’Homa intervened.

**************

After Aisha abruptly left, the mood in the hideout was left a bit awkward. Rasha and Zaïde were removing the hair dye and make-up while Beatrix was standing guard near the door.

“Well. Today certainly was something…” an all-smiles Rasha. “Too bad we couldn’t make a profit out of the heist.”

“You’ll get the money, as usual.” Zaïde retorted. “But don’t try to ask for more. I saw you nick Latife’s gold candlesticks.”

“My bad. I couldn’t resist.”

“What’s the next step?” Beatrix intervened.

Rasha rolled her eyes. “Must you always be so dour and straight-to-the-point? You’re spoiling the fun!”

“The next step is to decipher the documents I found.” Zaïde answered. “It may take me days – or even weeks.”

“Sounds boring and trite.” Rasha complained.

Zaïde felt her patience run out. “Why don’t you spend the money you already have before you steal some more, then?”

“Easy now! I’m just trying to lighten the mood!”

“If it’s more heists that you want, rest assured there will probably be many more. In the meantime, keep a low profile.”

“Of course. I don’t want our partnership to end.” Rasha looked at her red-haired partner. “Right?”

Beatrix gruffed. “I’ll leave first.”

[rufusluciusivan]

Warning! This is the epilogue! (Had to post two separate entries because of the length.) Read the previous post first.





















**************

Why don’t you spend the money you already have before you steal some more, then? Those were truly the words of someone who had never felt hunger in her entire life…

And contrary to Zaïde, Rasha was well-acquainted with hunger. When she was still living with her family, she would always come last – after her six siblings. And what little she had, she better had to hide it, hence they would take it from her. Even when she ran away from home, she had to compete with other street kids for scraps.

Rasha still remembered the first time she had eaten her fill… had been after she had stolen her first purse. This day, young Rasha had learned her most important lesson.

When you want something, you don’t beg for it. You steal it.

Speaking of which, there was still one rich-looking manor she had spotted a couple of weeks ago… Rasha had learned enough about the households to know she shared a resemblance with both one maid and the eldest daughter…

Maybe a visit was required? After all, she needed to pass time until her next mission.

Rasha thought the world owed her an entire childhood of privations. And hadn’t paid their tab yet...

**************

Beatrix was brooding and walking at the same time, her trusty jezail once more wrapped in pieces of cloth to look like some tool.

An other job done for the spoiled princess…

However, the redhead never spat on easy money.

(But wasn’t Esteban’s offer easy money as well?)

Still, Beatrix was a professional. She had a contract. And while Aisha was many things, when it came to the money she was fair – Beatrix had to hand it to her. Plus, Zaïde was a lot easier to stomach. At least, Zaïde knew how the real world worked…

The bounty huntress was interrupted in her thoughts when she noticed a patrolling soldier of the city watch pass near her.

Odd… Guards of the city watch usually patrolled in pairs…

Wait a minute!

Wasn’t this woman looking familiar?

Listening to her hunch, and trusting her excellent memory when it came to faces, Beatrix discreetly followed the guard from behind.

Yes indeed… She was looking familiar…

The bounty huntress was careful to not be seen or heard.

The moment her quarry walked in an empty street, Beatrix sprang to action, grabbed the woman by the collar, dragged her inside a dark alleyway, and pinned her against a wall by the collar.

“Hello, Sireen!”

The escaped-thief-disguised-as-a-guard blinked, and exclaimed: “Y- You?!”

“Looks like the buffoons of the city watch still can’t keep their prisoners… Not that I’m complaining. I never spit on easy money. Where did you get those clothes by the way?”

“I didn’t kill her!” Sireen exclaimed very fast. “I knocked her out, stripped her naked (she was rather sexy by the way), bound and gagged her, stuffed her inside a storage closet... but I didn’t kill her!”

“Spare me the useless details. What are you gonna tell me next? That she had gorgeous green eyes and flowing brown hair?”

“Golden brown eyes and braided slick black hair actually. But yes, quite gorgeous. Plus a flawless dark skin, round breasts, a peach-shaped ass-”

“Quiet! Can’t you recognize sarcasm?!” Beatrix barked. “God Above, and people wonder why I hate quips…”

She grabbed a pair of shackles.

“Anyway. I believe you recognize these? We’re gonna make a little trip you and I.”

“Whyyyyyy meeee?!” Sireen complained.

**************

Aisha wouldn’t say it out loud, but she greatly appreciated Sor’Homa’s training. The shapeshifter had taught her a few tricks.

Once the lesson was done, a servant came to fetch the twin sisters. Their mother was summoning them.

“I guess we’ll learn what this training was about…” Aisha commented out loud.

Sor’Homa glanced at her. “Be careful what you wish for.” She didn’t add anything, not even a good-bye as they were leaving the room.

Her ominous comment made Aisha worry during the entire trip to the Queen’s lounge room.

The room was comfortable, and luxurious without being ostentatious. Just enough to befit the queen’s status in front of guests.

Yuka was sitting on a sofa. Aisha noticed her mother was looking worried. There were dark rings under her eyes, proof that she hadn’t slept well lately.

“I bet you wonder why I asked Soma to teach you a few things about your powers.” she immediately commented.

“Indeed.” Yasmin glanced at Aisha. She didn’t say it out loud, but even the rebellious princess could understand her twin’s hint. Especially to my troublemaker of a sister.

“Your father doesn’t know I did it. He’d probably not approve. However-”

Yuka hesitated.

“Your powers are a part of you, and they can help you if you’re in trouble. So nurture them. Use Soma’s exercises daily.”

“Mother. You’re speaking as if we’re in danger.” Yasmin commented.

“You will be sent on a diplomatic mission. Both of you together.” Yuka finally revealed. “As envoys and guests at the United Lands’ court.” She took a breath. “I wish I could avoid it, but after the incident at the embassy…”

Embarrassed, Aisha looked away.

“… the kingdom of Felipe has sent an official complaint. We can’t ignore their demand. We need to show the perpetrator is punished.”

“But there are no proofs!”

“It’s an open secret you were involved, Aisha. Esteban made sure the information leaked.” Yuka sternly lectured her daughter. Then, she explained: “Neither us nor the king of Felipe want the affair to escalate. Nobody wants the end of trade, or worst, a war. But foreign affairs don’t work that way. Felipe has been humiliated. They have to do something about it, or else their neighbors will think they’re weak. They have to show nobody can make a fool out of them. Therefore, we have to do something to appease them.”

“Like punishing the culprit.” Yasmin concluded.

“Damn court intrigues…” Aisha mumbled.

Yuka grimaced. Aisha saw how pained she was because of what she had to do. The rebellious princess felt guilty. She had never thought her little mission would escalate so much and so quickly...

“Everyone will interpret our decision as a punishment. As some sort of banishment. They’ll think we’re sending Aisha away a few months, the time for her to learn proper manners, and for the tensions to die down.”

“And why is this mission dangerous?” Yasmin asked.

“We’ll be foreign guests… protected by the laws of diplomacy…” Aisha added. “What harm could befall us?”

Yuka interrupted her daughter. “Aisha. You don’t seem to understand.”

“What do you mean?”

“You and Yasmin are not sent on this specific diplomatic mission by chance. Esteban had a hand in the decision. He used his influence to change his kingdom’s request.”

Aisha frowned. “But why the United Lands? If he truly wanted to send us to a snake nest, why not Felipe then?”

Yuka approached her. “I don’t know. But one thing is certain. If don Esteban interfered to have you sent to the United Lands, then it serves his interests some way.” Yuka put her hands on her daughter’s shoulders, then gently brushed Aisha’s hair with her fingers. “You’ll have to be careful.” She hugged her.

Aisha reflexively hugged her back. “I’m… I’m sorry… I didn’t think I’d cause you so much- so much-”

Yuka didn’t give her the time to think of a proper way to apologize. Next, she walked to Yasmin, and also embraced her.

“You too, be careful. I trust you. I know you’ll protect your sister.”

Yasmin remained stiff.

**************

Once the meeting with their mother was over, Aisha and Yasmin left the room together to return to their bedrooms.

The twin sisters were walking next to each other. There was a tensed silence.

Yasmin suddenly grabbed Aisha by the shoulder to stop her.

“I didn’t want to be sent on this mission. I had other plans.” Yasmon was speaking quietly through her teeth, but Aisha knew her well-enough to realize she was angry.

Taken aback, she said the first thing that came to her mind. “I’m sorry.”

For some reason, her apology seemed to anger Yasmin even more. “Are you? Are you truly?”

“Of course!”

“Then can we talk about the incident I heard about just before you came back? You know. The two priestesses of the Great Goddess who were mugged for their clothes. Alongside with some of their retinue, and Latife El’Reza and her maids.”

Aisha remained silent, and attempted to keep a neutral face. However, Yasmin was a lot better than her at this game.

“I knew it was your doing! You’re lucky many people don’t like their clergy’s aggressive proselytism. Or that Latife is an unpopular upstart.”

Actually, it wasn’t luck. Zaïde had specifically targeted this institution and this noblewoman because she knew many would secretly be happy to see them ridiculed. Of course, the argument wouldn’t work on Yasmin.

Aisha knew she would betray herself if she agreed to have that conversation, so she didn’t fall into Yasmin’s trap. She didn’t say anything.

“I’m tired of having to be your guardian. You mess things up, and I have to clean up after you. Just like in the embassy. Just like always! And yet, Mother always favors-”

Yasmin interrupted herself. Her voice had briefly cracked. Aisha was surprised to hear her sister express such resentment. Yasmin was usually much more composed. Aisha could still remember how perfect she had looked when she had come to pick her up after the embassy’s fiasco.

“Forget it. I’ll do what Mother wants. I’ll be the reliable daughter once again. But it’ll be the last time I clean up your mess.”

Yasmin turned away to leave. Her bearing was stiff. Yasmin was attempting to hide it, but she was feeling hurt.

Aisha acted reflexively. She jumped forward, and hugged her sister from behind.

For the first time in years, Yasmin was completely taken aback by something. “Wh- What are you doing?”

“I didn’t think my actions would impact you. For that, I’m sorry.”

Then, Aisha realized she was hugging her sister, something they hadn’t done since they were young. She released Yasmin from her embrace.

“S- Sorry… I… I don’t know what made me do that… It’s just… It just… happened...”

However, Yasmin didn’t look angry anymore, only embarrassed. “It’s nothing… It’s just… It’s been so long since the last time we… hugged like that...” She hesitated. “I… I have to go.” She swiftly walked away.

Aisha was left alone.

The rebellious princess slapped herself. She could have hit her head against the walls… “Stupid! You’re so stupid!” she insulted herself.

[simon4242]

loved joan shame we didnt see her have a fair fight lol nevertheless the plot thickens

[tirepanted3]

And the drama builds, as we'd expect from a chapter called "Preparation." A lot is being layered in, even though we've been focusing mainly so far on just the four main characters. Should be interesting to see where this goes.

I see what you meant earlier by calling Aisha your most "flawed" protagonist. She's quite complex, with a mix of emotions - she's a romantic, but hesitant about it. She wants to be a strong team leader, but is also nervous about her ability. And she's got quite a few family troubles, particularly with her sister. (Hoping to see more of that explored in the future, as Yasmin looks primed to play a larger role.) That adds some good dramatic weight to the scenes where she infiltrates places and needs to use her somewhat iffy powers to succeed. Makes things interesting to see a heroine who isn't fully comfortable with her abilities and may be in over her head.

Slightly less humor in this chapter, as there's less focus on Rasha and Beatrix (who have the more comedic banterings), but still quite entertaining.

Beatrix, who was leaning against a wall, grumbled. “I’m still convinced there were less convoluted ways… I mean, we had to send a letter imitating Latife’s writing to give the priestess an appointment, then to ambush all the inhabitants of this manor to assume their identities before our real targets arrived, and finally to ambush the priestess and her escort to assume THEIR identities.”

The others ignored her.

Great lampshading here, with Beatrix being a killjoy by pointing out the complexities of the USB practice.

Surprised that Margaret seemed to put up more of a fight than Joan, considering their relative roles. Then again, Rasha seems to enjoy more hand-to-hand combat than Beatrix.

The only part of this chapter that felt a little forced was the scene by the docks, with the four heroines disguised as workers. It just felt a little abrupt to go from the opening conversational scenes (with their slow, careful buildup) to suddenly cutting to Aisha and her friends having mugged a quartet of dock workers, and for all that to be relayed in one offhanded paragraph. It also didn't really seem like there was proper explanation given for why they needed these disguises. I don't mind offhanded or offscreen muggings (they can be quite funny sometimes, as in the scene where Latife and her maids are discovered). But it feels like the paragraph with the workers was added after the fact, to punctuate a stretch of story that didn't feature quite as many USB scenes.

Anyway, it's just one paragraph, and didn't impact the story too much. Just thought it was worth mentioning, especially since the rest of the chapter feels very carefully and meticulously crafted.

Looking forward to more.

[rufusluciusivan]

To simon: I didn't think Joan would actually leave an impact on anyone. Even among her own group, she's the blandest of the bunch. Poor her. A lifetime of training, only to become the butt of a joke.

To tirepanted: Given how much focus is given on Yasmin among the secondary character, I guess it's not a spoiler to say that indeed she will play an important part in the story. Same with the exploration of her relationship with Aisha. While I try to be gradual and to not reveal too much too early, I think the epilogue of this part already heavily hints the core reason there's a wedge between them.

Good summary of Aisha. She clearly has a naive romanticized view of everything. She means well, but she's in over her head. I feel it's a risky bet because her specific flaws can quickly become annoying from a reader's perspective.

In general, compared to my previous teams, this one features characters who are more negative. Usually, I only feature one truly flawed character - in Aster's team it was Emmery (before she became an antagonist), in Yuka's it was Coulter. The other girls, even when they had character flaws (Yuka is plagued with regrets, Yisüi lacks confidence...), are sympathetic, good-natured, and positive.

You've mentioned Aisha, but it's true for her three companions as well. Rasha is the most obvious one - the most morally grey of the cast. Hence why it was important in this epilogue to clarify her motivations. Her actions aren't gratuitous like Klenia's (who did things for fun). Rasha's childhood of privations explains her greedy actions - she longs to have all the things she could never have: fun, money... and gorgeous clothes.
Beatrix is the character I based the most on one of my own - that is Coulter. Both are the grumpy ones of the group, and both are tremendously strong in their fields. But while Coulter usually kept her thoughts to herself (unless you're Yuka and you ticked her off), Beatrix isn't modest about her accomplishments, and is pretty vocal when she despises someone. Plus, she's also quite greedy. Still, I find her the most sympathetic of the group. She suffers a nasty case of PTSD, and has trouble adjusting to normal life. I'm trying to not dwell on the war too much, because it would recquire a lot of exposition, but I hope I leave enough hints to show it was a nightmare for the soldiers involved.
Even Zaïde is also a schemer who relishes the challenge of plots and court intrigues, and it's pretty clear she has influence on her cousin. Of course, since a key element of the story will be the mystery about whether one is a traitor or not, it was important all three had some shades of grey.

To be honest, Margaret put up more of a fight because I found it funny that the short mousy woman was actually the fiercest fighter of the group.

The only part of this chapter that felt a little forced was the scene by the docks, with the four heroines disguised as workers. It just felt a little abrupt to go from the opening conversational scenes (with their slow, careful buildup) to suddenly cutting to Aisha and her friends having mugged a quartet of dock workers, and for all that to be relayed in one offhanded paragraph. It also didn't really seem like there was proper explanation given for why they needed these disguises. I don't mind offhanded or offscreen muggings (they can be quite funny sometimes, as in the scene where Latife and her maids are discovered). But it feels like the paragraph with the workers was added after the fact, to punctuate a stretch of story that didn't feature quite as many USB scenes.

Ironically, it was quite the opposite. The part with the workers was actually one of the oldest parts I wrote, back when the story was a lot more straight-forward. However, as time went, the plot was expanded and became more complex. So I cut the parts 1 and 2 differently than during my early plans, and the exposition parts before the offscreen mugging became longer. I think your feeling comes from the fact this paragraph is a leftover of the original story, and didn't receive as much re-writing as other parts.

[tirepanted3]

In general, compared to my previous teams, this one features characters who are more negative. Usually, I only feature one truly flawed character - in Aster's team it was Emmery (before she became an antagonist), in Yuka's it was Coulter. The other girls, even when they had character flaws (Yuka is plagued with regrets, Yisüi lacks confidence...), are sympathetic, good-natured, and positive.

Yes, this does seem to be more focused on complex characters than previous stories of yours. So far I'm enjoying that, and it helps with investment. There may come a point when one or more of the characters grows too unsympathetic (and I do wonder which one, if any, is in fact a traitor), but for the moment they all feel worth following.

Ironically, it was quite the opposite. The part with the workers was actually one of the oldest parts I wrote, back when the story was a lot more straight-forward. However, as time went, the plot was expanded and became more complex. So I cut the parts 1 and 2 differently than during my early plans, and the exposition parts before the offscreen mugging became longer. I think your feeling comes from the fact this paragraph is a leftover of the original story, and didn't receive as much re-writing as other parts.

Ah, I would not have guessed. It definitely feels less complex compared to the rest of the chapter, which is why it stuck out. But these are the tricky aspects of writing a complex story... as I have learned myself over the years.

[rufusluciusivan]

There may come a point when one or more of the characters grows too unsympathetic

I do wonder too, but I try not to overthink too much about it either. I've learned long ago no matter what I do, I'll be surprised by how the characters are received. I mean, Safiye was designed to be hated, and ended up a fan-favorite. This kind of surprises are the perks of writing a story.

Hopefully, the mystery of who is a traitor (or if there is a traitor) will remain interesting till the end, and with an interesting outcome.