The Grand Hall of Aethelgard still smelled faintly of soot, despite the fresh coats of whitewash and the banners hung to cover the cracks in the masonry.
Queen Erika sat on the Throne of Alaric. It was too big for her, but today, she didn't look small in it. She sat with her back straight, her hands resting calmly on the armrests, watching the sharks circle.
"Your Majesty," Director Kaelen of Synthetica bowed. He didn't wear robes or armor. He wore a sharp, gray suit that seemed to absorb the light, and his left eye was replaced by a glowing red monocle that whirred softly as it scanned the room. "Synapse Dynamics is prepared to offer a generous reconstruction package. Prefabricated housing units, automated defense turrets, and a zero-interest loan for the first year."
"And for the subsequent years?" Erika asked, her voice cool.
"A modest fifteen percent," Kaelen smiled, a predator's grin. "With the mineral rights to the Dragontooth Mines as collateral, of course."
On the other side of the room, Queen Vora of the Sylvara Jungle Kingdom snorted. She was draped in furs and living vines, a jaguar resting at her feet.
"Metal and debt," Vora spat. "The spirits of this land are wounded, child. Sylvara offers life. We will bring the forests back to health. We will grow your walls stronger than stone. All we ask is that you ban the use of industrial alchemy within your borders."
Erika looked between them. The Corporate Wolf and the Jungle Tiger. Both offered help, and both wanted to own her.
Lord Blake stood by the throne, looking bored. "Perhaps we should consider the Director's offer, Your Majesty. Our defenses are... lacking."
Erika didn't look at Blake. She picked up a parchment from her lap.
"Director Kaelen," she said. "Clause 4, Section B of your 'generous' contract states that Synapse Dynamics retains the right to remotely shut down any automated defenses in the event of a payment default. Essentially, you would hold the off-switch to my kingdom's safety."
Kaelen's mechanical eye twitched. "Standard protocol, Your Majesty. Just a formality."
"And Queen Vora," Erika turned to the wild woman. "Banning industrial alchemy would cripple our smithies. Aethelgard is a kingdom of steel. You aren't offering aid; you're offering de-industrialization to remove a trade rival."
The room went silent. The envoys exchanged glances. They had expected a traumatized eighteen-year-old girl, desperate for help. They hadn't expected someone who read the fine print.
Erika stood up.
"Aethelgard is broken," she announced, her voice ringing off the stone walls. "But it is not for sale. We will rebuild with our own stone. We will forge our own steel. And if we need gold, we will earn it through fair trade, not predatory loans."
She looked Kaelen in the eye.
"You may leave. Take your contracts with you."
Kaelen's smile vanished. He snapped his briefcase shut. "A bold choice, Little Queen. Let us hope the wolves don't come back before your walls are fixed."
"Let them come," Erika said, her hand drifting to the empty space beside her where Conrad usually stood. "We have a new army."
Outside in the Royal Gardens, the threats were less political and more... gravitational.
Leo stood by the fountain, tugging at the collar of his new Royal Guard uniform. It was itchy, tight in the shoulders, and made him feel ridiculous.
"Stand straight, recruit," a passing sergeant barked.
"I am standing straight," Leo muttered as the sergeant passed. "This armor is just crooked."
He sighed, leaning against the marble rim of the fountain. He missed the freedom of the village. He missed climbing trees. He missed—
"Why does the water fall down?"
Leo jumped.
Standing on the other side of the fountain was a girl. She was about his age, with hair the color of clouds—white, but with shifting hues of pink and blue. She wore a dress made of a fabric that seemed to float around her, defying gravity.
"Uh," Leo blinked. "Because... gravity?"
The girl looked at him with wide, violet eyes. "Fascinating. In Aeris, we have to pump the water down. Otherwise, it just floats away into mist."
Leo stared. "You're from the Sky Kingdom?"
"Princess Elara," she curtsied, but instead of bending her knees, she simply drifted a few inches off the ground and bobbed in the air. She was wearing boots that glowed with faint blue runes.
"Whoa," Leo breathed. "You're flying."
"Hovering," Elara corrected, landing softly. She looked at the dirt around the fountain. She knelt down and poked the mud with a gloved finger. "It's so... heavy. Does it always stay here? It doesn't drift off?"
"It's dirt," Leo laughed, his nervousness vanishing. "It stays where you put it. Mostly. Unless you track it onto the Queen's rug."
Elara looked up at him and smiled. It was a dazzling smile, full of genuine curiosity. "I've never been to the Surface before. My father says it's dirty and dangerous. But I think it's... solid."
"It has its moments," Leo said, puffing out his chest a little. "I'm Leo. Sir Leo. Well, Guard Leo. Currently... guard of this fountain."
"A noble duty," Elara nodded solemnly. "The water seems very rebellious."
Leo laughed again. He looked at the girl who floated, and she looked at the boy who was grounded.
"Hey," Leo said, an idea forming. "You like solid things? Have you ever seen a rock that looks exactly like a potato? I have a collection in my room."
Elara gasped. "A potato rock? Show me."
"Follow me, Your Highness," Leo grinned, leading the way. "But watch out for the ducks. They bite."
Back in the Grand Hall, the envoys had retreated.
Erika sat back on the throne, letting out a long, exhausted breath. Her hands were shaking.
"Well done," Blake said, his voice smooth. "Though perhaps a bit... aggressive. We need allies, Erika."
"We need partners, Blake," Erika corrected, looking at her advisor. "Not masters."
She stood up, smoothing her dress.
"I'm going to the training grounds," she said.
"To watch the farmboy?" Blake raised an eyebrow.
"To watch the Hero of Aethelgard," Erika corrected sharply. "And to remind myself that some strength can't be bought."
She walked out, leaving Blake alone in the empty hall.
Blake watched her go, his eyes cold.
"She's growing teeth," he whispered to the silence. "I'll have to pull them out before they get too sharp."