The morning at Katarina's city estate was unusually noisy. Normally a quiet, almost monastic refuge for the not-too-noble but important guests of the capital, it was now throbbing with life.
Harried servants scurried through the corridors, muted arguments could be heard from the studies, and the air was thick with the smell of fresh paint, varnish, and incense.
Two guards in new, clean cuirasses stood by an inconspicuous door leading to the basement. Their bored gazes met, and one of them started the conversation.
"How long do you think we'll be stuck here?" grumbled the younger one, scratching the stubble under his helmet.
"Until they rebuild the palace. And judging by what's left of it, they'll probably have to start from the foundation," replied the senior one, squinting at a dusty sunbeam from a narrow window.
"Right! Nothing but blackened ruins left of the castle. I've never seen granite burn in my life, damn it, granite burned!"
"So, it'll be a long time. Get used to the smell of paint, lime, and the sound of hammers."
"Ha, what do I care..." The guard jerked his head towards the heavy oak door. "But what's the guarantee that this... 'torch'... won't ignite again? He's right here, under our noses!"
The senior guard turned, listening to the silence behind the door. "The Supreme Mage said she has it under control," he said, nodding at the door.
"She told you that personally?" smirked the younger one.
"Nah... Couldn't help but overhear her talking with Katarina during the last shift."
"I really hope so. And I..." But he was rudely interrupted.
"A-a-ah!"
A piercing, feminine scream, muffled by the thickness of the stone, came from below.
As if hearing a battle signal, both guards rushed to the door, throwing back the bolts. A dozen damp, slippery steps down and they were at another door, massive, reinforced with iron.
But this was no sinister dungeon. Peeking through the viewport, they quietly opened the heavy shutter.
A cell, but not a damp pit a neat, almost ascetic room with stone walls and the weak light of magic stones in niches. In the corner, pressed against the wall, a young maid trembled, shielding herself with a broom, her face white as chalk, eyes huge with terror.
And in the center of the room... "Hm, so this is what the Supreme Mage meant."
He lay there. Or rather, was submerged. On a stone pedestal, resembling a shallow bath, a strange substance bubbled and shimmered.
Thick, viscous, semi-transparent, glowing with a faint blue light from within. Definitely not water. More like liquid jade or solidified fog.
And in this blue dungeon, as if in a sarcophagus of jelly, lay Saigo. Only his face, neck, and upper chest protruded above the surface. He was pale, his hair, usually white as frost, was matted and darkened by moisture, but his eyes those same glowing green pupils burned with a bored, yet living fire.
"Hey, guys!" his voice, hoarse but clear, sounded in the silence.
"What do you want?" asked the senior guard, recovering from the shock and in no hurry to open the door.
"Bring me a chamber pot, or let me out. My body demands it." The sarcasm in his voice was as thick as the blue goo.
The maid, as if scalded, seized the moment, darted from the corner, and scurried out the door, slamming it behind her.
But Saigo didn't wait long. Within a couple of minutes, the door opened again, admitting a stream of fresh air and... her - Katarina. In a light, yet impeccably tailored dress of black silk, trimmed with scarlet velvet. She entered alone, smoothly closing the door behind her. The silence of the cell thickened, filled with her presence.
"You don't know other colors exist, do you?" he began, giving her attire a bored, appraising look. His voice sounded tired, but without fear.
"And a good morning to you too," she replied, approaching the pedestal. Her eyes slid over the blue substance restraining him.
"What is this?" asked Saigo, trying to turn his head, but only managed to strain his neck helplessly. His arms were submerged in the liquid, his legs too.
"Precautions, darling," Katarina smiled, sitting on a simple wooden chair nearby. "After all, you are... a very hot guy. Quite literally."
"Ha..." a hoarse chuckle escaped his lips. Inside, however, a storm raged. He was mentally breaking down this cage, looking for a weakness, trying to channel his inner energy. But the jelly-like water seemed saturated with magic down to its very molecules.
It enveloped, constrained, dampened any impulse. It was alive, resilient, like the tentacles of that mage girl. He had no simple way to dispel it yet. For now...
"I want to talk. About us," Katarina began, her voice softer, almost tender. She reached out, her fingertips touching his wet cheek.
"I think I gave a clear answer," he cut her off, trying to turn his head away. Her touch burned like a coal.
"And I didn't accept it," she parried, her fingers sliding to his temple.
"Your problems aren't mine."
"Don't be so categorical," she leaned closer, her breath smelling of expensive perfume and something bitter, like ashes.
"Take your hand away."
"No. I don't want to."
"You sick bitch..." burst out of him.
"Ah-ah, ah!" She sharply interrupted him, pressing her fingers lightly but authoritatively against his lips. "No need for such harsh statements. We might quarrel again. And besides..." she leaned back in the chair, folding her hands on her knees. "As a monarch, on behalf of the capital's residents, I must thank you."
He gave her a long, distrustful look. "Hm. For what? For nearly burning down half the city?"
"Well, let's say..." Her lips stretched into a smile devoid of any warmth. "While we were looking for you... we turned everything upside down from the basements of the most noble aristocracy to the foulest slums. And the haul..." she paused for effect, "...was pleasantly surprising. Thousands of criminals: thieves, murderers, corrupt officials, and traitors and also..." her voice became cold as steel, "...we thinned out the network of your dear Cotto clan a bit. Informants, assassins, liaisons. A rich catch, very rich indeed. The city breathes easier, all thanks to you."
'She's threatening me,' flashed through Saigo's mind. 'Like hell it's a threat.' But he just clenched his teeth. "They knew what they were getting into."
"Who do you take me for?" Katarina asked, suddenly leaning forward, her eyes flashing. "A cruel tyrant who destroys everyone indiscriminately?"
"I have no idea," he cut her off and tried to turn away. As much as the blue prison allowed.
"Ah-ah, nope!" Her hand was on his cheek again, softly but inexorably turning his face back to hers. "You won't silence me this time. Am I really... so repulsive to you?"
Saigo had long answered this question for himself. Back at the cobblestones, during their first "date." "No. You are indifferent to me. You are like... a volcano, or a forest fire a dangerous, uncontrollable force that..." he hesitated.
"That you managed to tame?!" she prompted, and excitement flared in her eyes.
"If I had tamed it, I wouldn't be stuck in this... blue snot," he grumbled.
"Not that force," she touched his arm above the substance with her finger. "I mean..." her hand moved to her own heart. "...this one. Here."
Saigo just scowled, fighting a wave of irritation. "Why do you need all this? You have... everything: power, wealth, strength. What are you lacking?"
"Hehe," her laugh sounded strangely sad. "How can you not understand? I have everything one could dream of. But one thing is missing... A loved one by my side. Just... by my side."
"Then go and take one!" burst out of him. "There are plenty of people! Why are you clinging to me like a burr?!"
"I tried!" bitterness suddenly sounded in her voice. "But my feelings... they just drowned in a sea of flattery, fear, and sycophancy. I never knew is the person next to me sincere, or just afraid I'll incinerate them with a glance? But you... you're not like that. You aren't afraid of me."
"And I'm not afraid of death either," he added coldly. "So your main trump cards power and fear don't work on me. You have no leverage, Katarina."
"Hehe," she laughed, and this time the laugh was sincere, warm. "You're so cute when you're angry. Just like an enraged kitten." Her hand gently cupped his face again. "But leverage... exists, Saigo."
She fell silent, watching him. He remained silent, feeling an icy heaviness in his stomach.
"We found it," she said quietly, almost in a whisper. "Your fortress - Sen-baza, I believe. The lair of the Cotto clan."
Saigo's breath caught. His heart skipped a beat, then began to pound with furious force, making the blue liquid pulsate around his chest.
"After some deliberation..." she continued, savoring his reaction, "...we sent an embassy, and a quite impressive one at that, so as not to disgrace the crown's honor."
"In... what composition?" he squeezed out, already guessing where she was heading.
"The entire capital garrison. The Mages' College in full. Three knightly orders. Dukes, barons, counts... and all their troops." She listed the components of the army as if it were a mundane shopping list. "I think we'll muster about a hundred thousand." She said and winked.
Saigo slowly exhaled. The air whistled in his constricted throat. The threat was mortal. The clan could escape in time, but would the Old Man surrender the fortress? Even knowing they stood no chance in an open battle? The Cotto Clan had no habit of surrendering without a fight never. And that meant a slaughter, an extermination.
He raised his eyes. Met her gaze. In it burned a cold, triumphant fire. The fire of a victor holding its prey in its clutches.
"What..." his voice was hoarse, "...what do you want?"
Katarina's smile spread across her face, wide, triumphant, devoid of any malice. She leaned right up to his face, her scarlet lips almost touching his ear. The whisper was hot and relentless, like a dagger thrust:
"You, my dear. Completely. And without a trace."