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The Invitation - 1

  Sophia did note that despite this residence containing what was an imperial style mailbox at the front gate, that no mail was actually delivered over the course of her three months here.

  No snappily dressed postmen with swords and ceremonial handguns delivering junk ads, instead leaving this critical vein of information to literally sit as a decorative ornament.

  Mori had, when questioned by this Fourth Princess, said: “If you want to mail something you should do it in town. Though, if you did it’ll have to go through the Apparatus since… well, you are here under disguise. And to get to the Imperium? That’ll be… a month or so turnaround?”

  And Zai, well, at least he tried to be helpful with his half-answer to Sophia’s non-existent question. In his room, this time in the midst of reading the 13th volume of A Crane Flies, brought up so casually in the midst of one of Sophia’s splained rants. “The Dominion once did have a post office. My father dismantled it twenty years ago, however.”

  “Why would he do such a thing?”

  The Crown Prince of the Dominion, from his own analysis of that great Lord of the Dominion, looked out the window and towards the horizon. “I suppose the moment you let information pass between the people, you lose control of them. Information is power, control the information and you control reputation, policies…”

  And he can tell he’s lost Sophia, so he reorients. “If someone, anyone, could organize from across a nation they could sow whatever they wanted without any oversight. It’s why information needs to be controlled, it’s why…” Zai pauses for a while. “It’s why my father wants it controlled.”

  Sophia hadn’t considered using the Imperial Post for anything like that, but it did make some sense. Though, delivering and organizing something like that through mail seemed such a daunting task, better to just hook up a radio and talk it out.

  Some political part of her plots though: But think, if father could organize that high school reunion of his through the post office, then what else could someone with less than good intentions do?

  And one of her thought processes rolls its eyes. Probably send mail order book catalogs to the Imperial Palace and get a Fourth Princess hooked on cheap smut…

  Whatever the case, the half-opened letter that now sits on the dining table this morning seemed like a terrifying omen. Opened with extreme prejudice by the Impericutta legionary in full chemical warfare gear, and read by the Guardswoman as if such an item could hold some psychologically damaging spell.

  Like an artist the single paragraph’s handwriting was gorgeous to an obscene point, almost perfect in every single geometric letter and word earmarked to two specific individuals:

  “Who delivered it?” Zai continues to push with his cold, unmoving tone.

  Priestess Elodie shrugs, looking over towards the official guardians of these two royals. “Tiancin male, five foot eight medium build brought it to the church. Wore modern traveling robes, dark gray. Didn’t get his name, only that I’d ‘deliver this to Jin and Sylvia as a favor.’”

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  “And you did deliver it.” Zai observes.

  “Yep, I really did Sire that’s why it's on the table right now.”

  The Guardsman crosses her arms, still keeping a good five steps away from the article. “And I noticed you did open the letter. There’s paper residue on the glue seams…”

  “Well, I had to make sure there was no strychnine powder. Or something even more fun, I hear they’re pretty liberal with vectors these days.”

  And from behind the ceramic faceplate the Impericutta growls its question. “And you opened it unprotected?”

  “Well, not *unprotected* per say.” She carelessly reveals, turning over back to the two royals. “But protected enough.”

  “Back to the main point.” The Crown Prince interrupts the guards’ conversation. A voice bringing the focus back to the item on the literal table, to what was this incredible development. “An invitation to a lunch meeting from the Mayor, after all this time?”

  “That’s what’s got me worried too.” Mori nods along, turning around to the royal shadow at the edge of this conversation. “After your stunt two days ago at the Syndicate’s office I’m not surprised.”

  Called out from her place, Sophia chirps out her response in the midst of eating her breakfast donut. “W-what?”

  Elodie crosses her arms at what probably seemed like feigned ignorance. “Forgive my prudence, but maybe pretending to be part of an organized crime venture is not a good idea. Especially when you’re out and about like this under some level of disguise. Put yourself at a lot of risk for exposure.”

  The Guardsman steps in with a narrowed eye and cold tone, Mori both dismissive and utterly serious as she points at the letter on the table. “Risk of exposure?! Not sure how blunt your silver blade is but we’re looking at a soft compromise right now.”

  Sophia’s internal committee stares at one another. Uh, did we do that?

  Of course we did. Another part of her groans. Who the hells goes up to a hotel manager and threatens their family?! Especially if they’re involved in some sort of corruption scandal. What, did you think they’d just keep quiet about it?!

  Zai Tianci interrupts his guardian. “Sophia did manage to retrieve the necessary documents, and…”

  “We’re soft compromised.” Mori cuts coldly. “It doesn’t matter how helpful this intel is, the fact that that bitch Choi wasn’t able to keep her mouth shut means you’re both at risk. If word gets out you’re here we could be seeing an assassination attempt within the next week.”

  The Impericutta legionary visibility stiffens next to her.

  “They don’t know it’s us.” Zai attempts to assure with an incredible level of confidence. “It’s a soft compromise.”

  “Is that a risk you’re willing to take?”

  “I am.” The Crown Prince of Tianci tries to keep her calm, pushing through with a longing stare. “It’s just a lunch invitation, nothing more. It’s a perfect opportunity to gather more information, and I expect we will be able to… assert ourselves politically as well.”

  “A lunch invitation from a hostile entity.” Mori raises, taking a step closer to Zai. “A meeting such as this is going to be on his terms. This is the definition of a trap, and you’re walking right into it.”

  The Crown Prince of Tianci cuts down his own guardian, giving what was an order disguised within a question. “And you can’t protect me from it?”

  “Alone?” Guardsman Mori Fushimi begins to admit her own flaw in this grand game. “No.”

  “Then you don’t do it alone.” For some reason, under what was most likely a demonic possession, Sophia Elise speaks up from her corner of the living room. Definitely out of her element, her cold words silences this entire escalating argument as she takes a very, very slow bite of what was now her second donut of the day.

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