The suns are already low in the sky, the Priestess following along as this strange group of three descends the small hill on foot.

  Like a loyal dog she nips at them, but always keeps a few steps away from her. “Everything else good? Other than the no donut thing, is the marriage working out?”

  Sophia is basically a husk, silent footsteps and eyes just staring at the cobblestone street in a demented mess of embarrassment. “S-sure.”

  “Ah, too early to tell eh?” She reads her like an open book. “Think you got married a little too early? I get it, it’s always the decisions you make while in a volatile mood that you end up regretting the night after.”

  Goddess please why won’t she shut up. One thought process unburies itself. She’s digging too deep…

  “And young love is the definition of volatile, which is literally the opposite of what love should be.”

  The Guardswoman, moving behind them, speaks up with her own question. “And what should love be?”

  “Genuine.” The Priestess informs without a pause. “Love lasts much longer when it’s not built with the luster of lust. You know, you can’t make a bullet with powder alone: gotta have the casings and the round to actually make it work.”

  Guardswoman Fushimi scoffs at that analogy.

  The Priestess buys some extra conversation from the guardian, now speaking to Sophia. “Still, do you have anything other than your dashingly good looks to keep it going? Hobbies, small loves?”

  “N-no…”

  “Well you better find one.” She advises. “Something even as small as going out once a week somewhere. Find a time to build an emotional connection, you have to let this burn slowly. Marriage is a fire you gotta keep going for the rest of your life, can’t just dump fuel on it and let it burn out in a few minutes right?”

  Sophia nods gently, her head lowered. She’s right… After almost a week of this political marriage, we've barely exchanged a single, haphazard conversation with him. How could we have expected anything more?

  “See, even bringing him some donuts to share helps.” She wags her finger at the girl. “Speaking of, you don’t exactly have a supply of these little pastries do you?”

  Yeah… nah.

  “No, I don’t.” The Fourth Princess admits.

  There’s a way in, a part of this so-called Priestess pushing her towards this line of action. From just this short half-hour of interaction with this ‘young, naive, and very rich ensolian woman’ she already finds that singular conclusion for both service to the crown… and a possible career advancement.

  Well, any girl would want a promotion anyway, She justifies herself as they continue to walk. Plus, this is gonna make a lot of stoic jaws drop back in Capital. Perhaps even the spymaster herself would take notice...

  “Sylvia, would you like to hire me as a part-time worker in your home?” The Priestess leans in, slowly asking the question. “I am looking for some extra pocket change, and something like this would really help.”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Sophia’s instinct of intrigue catches that last statement, presenting this new case to the consciousness committee. We’re pretty sure most women and men of the Imperial Church don’t get paid or ‘need money.’ They get a stipend from their bishops, and they’re only supposed to use it to advance the needs of their service. If she’s looking for other employment, she’s either really desperate for coins for this church, a *really* bad cleric, or something else entirely.

  It’s a very important argument, one that raises eyebrows across the chamber before the woman cuts in the statement that falls Sophia completely. “I can also bring donuts over every morning, if you wish of course…”

  “How much to hire you?” Sophia immediately interrupts.

  Such a definitive answer surprises both the Priestess and the Guardswoman, and the guardian is the first to object. “Before we agree to any employment contracts, I require an int…”

  The Priestess waves her off so easily, keeping a careful eye on her body language for any actions towards the handgun, the submachine gun, or worse. “Oh I know the Caretaker for the old Tianci summer residence. I’ll come with him the next time he heads over, he can vouch for me easily.”

  Oh how convenient. Sophia’s satisfied committee happily smiles. She’s so well connected already.

  And as they reach the base of the hill, next to their parked motor carriage in the eastern side of town, Sophia makes the natural offer. “Thank you Priestess. I… appreciate your generosity. A-and advice.”

  She simply just scoffs and smiles. “Well hey, if you hire me I’ll be the one thanking you. And you can just call me Elodie, please.”

  “Elodie…” Sophia toys with the name beyond titles, the Guardswoman hurriedly unlocking the motor carriage behind her.

  Elodie nods. “Yeah, I think we’re close enough to go by first names. After all, we’re just two Ensolian girls lost in the world aren’t we Sophia? Just a pair of lost souls trying to find our ways through our silly circumstances.”

  “Yeah…” The Fourth Princess responds, her guard grabbing her by the shoulder.

  Without ceremony the guardian quickly shoves her Charge into the back of the vehicle, slamming the door shut with almost panicked haste.

  “Thank you for the doughnuts.” Fushimi nods, keeping her front towards this so-called priestess as she steps close towards the driver side door.

  The gaze of Elodie darkens, eyeing the shut window of the motor carriage and its implied instance of privacy. “Of course, Guardsman. Any time.”

  There’s a moment where Fushimi moves towards her weapon, but before she does so Elodie smiles at her. This ensolian woman raises both her hands away from her waist in a small surrender, letting words do the damage this time. “Keep a close eye on those two while they’re here, Guardsman. Keep a short leash on them, especially on him.”

  It’s not a threat, but instead unwanted advice. She continues. “There are factions at work here in this little town, quite happy they are with how things are going. But if they find out about those two, it will end badly.”

  Guardsman Fushimi stares at her, readying her stance for a brutal close quarters melee. “Who are you, really?”

  “Me?” She seems amused at the question, exhaling air through her nose in a scoff. “I’m a simple Priestess of the Ensolian Church to Her Holiness, of Port Azuru.”

  “And why are you telling me this?”

  She turns, glancing at the edges of her vision as if being followed from the shadows of the world. “Well, now that our two countries are married it should be natural for us to take care of one another. Shouldn’t it?”

  A difficult expression on the Guardsman’s face, her low tone responding to “Elodie’s” question. “Of course; assuming our interests align.”

  She can’t help but laugh, so easy going yet weighted with some terrifying implication behind it. “Trust me, they absolutely do. Especially on a matter of this import.”

  There’s a few seconds of silence, each one eyeing one another up before the woman of the cloth ends the conversation. Walking away ever so casually, her back left completely open to Fushimi. “This was a pleasant surprise; I didn’t expect someone of her importance to just wander in on a random day like this despite what you might think. I’ll also be sure to bring some rice wine when I stop by, you’re far too tense Guardsman.”

  This agent looks back with a finger across her lips and a small wink. “Have a safe drive home~”