Her Majesty The Prince

The sound of voices outside drew Lou out of a pleasant dream she instantly forgot. She opened her eyes, gently adjusting to the morning light draped over the fabric of her temporary home; slowly easing her sluggish limbs into a stretch. She yawned. Outside, footsteps approached, bringing with them a shadow in the shape of a person. Françoise, celebrated set technician of the Shepherd's Troupe, spoke through the fastened flap of the tent.

"Hey Lou! The Prince's murder-butler is here to see you."

"Tch, I have a name!" said Sleeves, from further away.

"Yeah? What is it?"

"...Well I'm not telling you."

"Thanks Françoise, I'll be right out." Lou carefully slipped out of the arms of the two people sharing her cot and rose to her feet, tucking the covers in behind her. Even inside the tent, the cold autumn air cut right through to the bone, sending shivers up her spine. She hurried over to the pair of portmanteaus at the back end of the tent and put a long coat on over her nightclothes, then stepped into her boots. She had almost undone the tent flap when she remembered to quickly look herself over in the mirror.

A few minutes later, Lou made her way out of the tent, closing it up behind her. Only at this point did her mind finally catch up with the series of events that had led her to go outside this early. Sleeves was here? Why? She looked around the camp that was, for the most part, as sleepy as she was.

Sleeves waved at her from quite a few paces out, giving Brie a wide berth. While they were wearing the same sleek servant's attire they had on in the royal theater, today they'd added an overcoat to complete the outfit. They were also carrying a thin square portmanteau, Lou noticed; a black case to match their outfit. Sleeves twirled the index finger of their free hand around their greasy ponytail, keeping a nervous eye on the wary beast before them.

Lou walked toward her former colleague, her heartbeat growing faster and faster with every step. Were they here on behalf of the Prince? Had they come with a message? Had he, somehow, taken what she'd said to heart, and made the first move? Lou wasn't ready for it, not yet. She'd need more than a couple of weeks to fully process a confrontation that had been two years in the making.

But eventually her feet brought her in front of Sleeves, ready or not. She put her hand on Brie's head for comfort, letting the sheepdog's steadfastness be her guide. She stood as straight as she could and gave Sleeves a look forged in steel. If nothing else, she knew how to deal with them. She'd had plenty of experience at the card table, before they'd started resorting to dirty tricks. Whichever way they were bluffing, all she had to do was punch through it. "What do you want?" she asked.

And Sleeves instantly folded. They hunched over slightly, eyes wide, bringing up both hands; one holding the leather case, the other palm forward in appeasement. "Good morning?? Jeez, it's like I'm talking to Dusty here!"

Lou crossed her arms. "Crown business again? Did he send you?"

"Did he...who? What?" Sleeves's brow furrowed as they tilted their head slightly. Then their eyes went wide again. "No no no, I'm not letting him drag me into this, I'm just here to chat!" They puffed up their chest, making a show of looking around. "I can't talk to my old buddy?"

Her eyes narrowed. "You're in uniform."

"I look good in this uniform!" Sleeves adjusted their black tie, which stood out nicely against the white shirt peeking out from under the vest and coat. "I picked it out myself! I can wear it when I want—who are you, my aunt?"

Lou sighed, both from relief and from no small amount of exasperation. She gave the sheepdog some pets and head scritches. "Thanks Brie, I'll handle it from here." The dog, previously on high alert, relaxed at her touch and words, and after some more cajoling decided to trot back to the camp to continue his morning rounds.

"Good morning to you too," she said, finally returning Sleeves's earlier greeting as she stifled an ill-timed yawn. "Coffee?"

They frowned, looking mildly insulted, but relaxed fairly quickly to match Lou's demeanor. "Coffee would be nice."

Lou wordlessly led the way to the camp, making a beeline for the kitchen wagon. With the side wall flipped down into a ramp and the canvas roof extension unfurled, there now was plenty of covered space for hungry troupe members to relax with their meal. At this early hour, however, the only people present were Jehan and his young apprentice.

"That's right, you got it! Now just keep the fire going, you're a natural." The diminutive cook patted the child on the back. He stood back up, catching a glimpse of Lou—and immediately put a kettle on, getting some coffee cups out. "Morning Lou, you're up early. The usual?"

Lou nodded, held up two fingers, then turned around and led Sleeves to one of the tables along the outside of the troupe's makeshift eating area. Somewhere just out of reach of the tent-like awning, where the warmth of the sun would reach once it rose higher in the sky.

Sleeves sat opposite her, laying the flat leather case on the table and sliding it aside.

Lou failed to hold back another yawn, trying to dismiss it through brute force before having to ride it out regardless. "Coffee should be ready soon."

"No hurry, no hurry," Sleeves said, leaning back in their chair as they looked around. "Nice place you've got here. Definitely the biggest traveling theater I've ever seen."

Lou nodded. "Same here. We don't even have those up north."

"Heh, I guess not." Sleeves drummed their fingers on the wooden table, taking in the sights and sounds. Or perhaps the visitor was just trying to work up the courage to say what was on their mind. "It... really is you, isn't it. Glasses? Captain? What should I call you?"

Lou gave an awkward smile. "Lou is fine. It's my name."

"Wait, your name is Lou?" Sleeves leaned back. "I thought the whole 'wolf' thing was just a nickname."

"No, I mean, Lou is my name. Le Loup was just a title, I guess because of my cloak. People started calling me that and I went with it. A matter of convenience." Lou looked to Jehan across the dining area, trying to see if their drinks were ready. "A character I played," she added, a bit more quietly.

"Oh. I'm gonna be honest, I'm still processing this whole thing. I have so many questions."

"Like what?"

"Like why did you come work with the maids in the undercroft? I tried pressing Sir Frederic for answers—I was right by the way, he did pull some strings to get you hired—but he was his usual tight-lipped self about it."

"Is he doing alright?" She asked as casually as possible.

"What, Sir Frederic? Yeah, same old same old. He did mention that you were given a pretty generous retirement package, so why the career change? Were you trying to spy on your old body or something?"

"No! Well, not exactly, it's like..." Lou sighed. "I was telling Dusty about it after the play, how did she put it..."

"Wait, even Dusty knows?"

"Not the whole thing! She..." Lou looked around. Leaned forward. "Can you keep this to yourself?"

A small smile crossed Sleeves's face as they leaned forward as well. "Well yeah, of course."

"She thinks I was a royal decoy. That's what I've been telling everyone. It's just... an explanation that makes a bit of sense, and won't cause any trouble if someone does come looking for... for his old body. I don't want to mess with his plans, you know? Despite everything."

"Oh I get it, believe me I get it. I'm wrapped up in those plans too." The smile on their face shifted into their usual smirk as they inspected their manicure. "Would you look at that. I know something Dusty doesn't."

"And she knows something you don't," Lou said as she stood up, giving Sleeves a pat on the shoulder. "Coffee's ready, I'll be right back."

"Wh... HEY! Don't leave me in suspense! What does she know?"

Jehan's apprentice hopped down the ramp, giving Lou a quick "Hi Mommy Lou! Bye Mommy Lou!" as they crossed paths in front of the open kitchen wagon. She couldn't help but stop and smile, looking back at the child running off to spend his excess energy. Of all the kids she'd been taking care of in her short two years here—sharing the task with a large number of other troupe members—this one had been among the quickest to blossom.

She was also glad to see the day cook getting some help after all this time. She'd been able to see just how much work it took to keep this many people fed every day. Perhaps sometime she ought to get acquainted with the little night owl who was helping Lin with her side of the cooking duties.

"Here you go, for you and the guest," Jehan said as he slid over two cups of black coffee. "Need anything special on the side?"

"Cream and sugar's fine, thank you." Lou leaned her back against the counter, watching the child walk up to Sleeves as they were digging something out of their leather case. "How's he working out?"

"Little guy? Great!" Jehan poured some cream into a tiny decanter and put everything—coffees, sugar, and cream—onto a plate he retrieved from the drying rack. "He's a natural, loves to help... Kid's got more energy than he knows what to do with, but that's fine. Better too much than too little, eh? Here you go."

"Thanks Jehan," Lou said with the least tired smile she could muster this early in the morning. She carefully made her way back to the table as the cook's apprentice pelted Sleeves with questions.

"What are those?" the child asked.

"They're hormones," Sleeves said as they took one of the small twisted paper bundles and put away the rest.

"Which hormones?"

"Correct," Sleeves answered, unraveling the paper and folding it into a makeshift funnel.

"Yeah, but which hormones?" the child repeated, his face scrunching up.

"That's right, my aunt makes them," Sleeves replied, leaning back to pour the powder under their tongue.

The child asked again and again, but as he was met with Sleeves making unintelligible sounds with their mouth full, he eventually stomped off with a "hmph!" in search of better entertainment.

Lou was all smiles as she put the plate down and began to prepare both of their coffees. "You're pretty good with children," she said as she carefully metered out the cream and sugar into each cup.

"Eh, it's just the same tricks I use on Portals." Sleeves folded up the empty piece of paper and put it back into the small parcel they'd dug out of their leather case. They looked appreciatively at Lou's handiwork. "You remembered how I take my coffee."

"I took a guess that your tastes hadn't changed." She slid their cup over.

"Good guess," they said, taking a sip. They pondered their cup for a moment, then scratched their chin and gave Lou a pensive look. "Did yours?"

Lou sat down, cradling the warm cup in her hands, letting the heat seep through her fingers for a bit. "Yeah. I used to drink my coffee black, but now... bleh."

"What's that been like? I gotta admit, I'm a little curious."

Her chuckle had the tiniest hint of bitterness to it. "It's been a struggle sometimes. But it hasn't been all bad, you know? There's a lot of new tastes I like now, I just have to go out and find them. Though a lot of them I can already guess."

"I guess you would know. You two were together pretty much all the time."

"Yeah," Lou said, finally taking a sip; just a tiny one, to make sure she could keep going without getting hurt. "We were."

There was a brief silence, aside from the singing of birds in the distance.

"So Dusty doesn't know?"

Lou shook her head. "We always got along well, but... we never really got that close."

"You know, that really surprises me, looking back on it. You two should've hit it off from day one, you're both, you know." They flexed their arm.

Lou looked down at the light brown liquid in her cup, making eye contact with her reflection. "No, she's the real deal. From the moment we met I knew I could never hold a candle to her. It only made it clearer just how wide the gap had become." She took a sip. "Dusty has true strength. I was always just pretending."

Sleeves quirked their eyebrow to their physical limit. "Uh, I think you're dramatically underselling just how strong you were. Or, well, how strong your body was. Still is, as a matter of fact. You didn't see the aftermath of the rematch against number five."

That drew Lou's attention away from her drink. The fifth, of presumably twelve, obstacles in the path of the Prince's plans to dismantle the crown. She'd gotten quite familiar with the story thanks to Alphonse's play, how the ancient ritual had always relied on a dozen people holding the keys. The Prince had made it sound like all he'd need to do was talk it over with them, but obviously things had gotten more complicated. He hadn't lied about making enemies, that was for sure.

"Oh right, the monster in his castle."

"My castle."

"Your castle," Lou corrected herself as she took another sip. "Did... did that go okay?" She had to admit part of her had been worried. Their argument on the balcony had been a long time coming, but from the sound of it, the timing of it could have been better.

"It was over before I even made it out of the portal." Sleeves rolled their eyes. "He just stepped in and..." They made a wide cutting motion with their hand. "I didn't even get to do anything this time, just wrangle some people to help clean up the mess. I've never seen the banquet hall that... uh... what's the word here. Messy? That's not right. Drenched kind of doesn't give the whole picture, either. Anyway." They raised the cup to their lips. "Reminded me of that time we all cleaned the place top to bottom for one of his big banquets."

"Mm."

They waggled their finger at her. "Yes, that's exactly how you sounded! I think it took you a week to say a single word to us, back when you started. Just a quiet little newbie, letting people walk all over you while me and the others were off talking about random things like..."

Sleeves's right eye twitched. They raised their cup to their mouth again, keeping it there, as if to hide some sort of reaction.

Lou looked up. "What?"

"We, uh... we really just cleaned the entire upper hall while talking about how we'd sleep with your former body, huh."

Lou raised her own cup to take a sip as well. "Mmm hm."

"Ohhh that's why you kept dropping things! And bumping your head everywhere!" Sleeves did their best to contain a chuckle. "Gods, Glasses, I'm so sorry."

"Lou is fine, really."

"Sorry! Sorry. I'm still wrapping my mind around it." They shook their head. "Well you sure showed us, huh? Wish I'd been taking bets on that one, you would've made me rich."

"I mean, you got to do your big plan too, didn't you? You won the castle."

"I mean... no, you're right, I did."

As she went down memory lane, a specific part of the maids' conversation from that day stood out in Lou's mind. "So... did you?"

Sleeves blinked twice in rapid succession. "Did I what?"

"Did you sleep with him?"

"WHAT? NO!" They leaned back, putting physical distance between themself and this conversation. "No! Never! Gods, he's such a... no, listen." They put both hands up, palms forward. "I talk a big game, alright? That's what I do. I didn't want to give Dusty the satisfaction, so I upped the ante. Sir sleeps in his own damn bed, thank you, and I sleep in mine. I'm happy with the stipend he gives me to let him keep living there and running the place." They pinched the bridge of their nose. "Gods, you have no idea how complicated it is to keep a castle functioning. Well. No, actually I take that back, you're probably one of the few people who do."

Sleeves was right in their observation, Lou had seen firsthand what...

She stopped herself, noticing the slightest of discrepancies. "What was that?"

"What? Oh, stipend, it's like a regular amount of money you get for—"

"No, no. What did you call him?"

"Hm?"

Lou leaned forward, not quite trusting her own recollection. "You called him Sir."

"I did? Huh," they said with a lopsided smile as they waved their hand. "A slip of the tongue. I meant His Majesty."

Lou narrowed her eyes, going over their conversation in her mind. "You haven't been calling him that either."

"Is that so?" Sleeves asked.

"Yes," Lou answered, a smile of bemused fascination growing on her lips.

Sleeves swallowed. Raised a finger, letting it hang in the air for a little bit... and then they folded. "Fine. Fine. He won it in the card game, alright? My..." They sighed. "My lifetime of servitude," they added under their breath.

"But... but the castle! Were you lying the whole time?" Lou's mouth hung open. "He said it was yours! Why would he go along with it?"

"No, that wasn't a lie! It's my castle, I scored it fair and square!" Sleeves squinted their eyes shut in a frustrated grimace. "There were just... potential outcomes that I failed to plan for."

"Oh my gods."

Sleeves took out a handkerchief, attempting to wipe their brow in the most casual manner they could physically manage. "It wasn't my finest moment."

"A lifetime of service... You didn't try to win it back?!"

"I did! But he took it off the table as soon as he won it. Said it was more valuable than anything else. Which, touching, I know, but still."

"How'd you end up with the castle, then?"

"Spite." Sleeves return to their coffee. "And luck. And some of my aunt's secrets I thankfully ended up not having to spill. But mostly spite. Had to walk out of that room with something."

Lou shook her head, still in disbelief. "I'm so sorry."

"Oh don't be, it's fine." They took another sip. "I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm in good hands. My aunt was very unimpressed to hear that one of her students—a member of her bloodline, she kept repeating—was now owned by the Crown, so the two of them have been meeting regularly every full moon for negotiations and fine dining."

"Negotiations...?" She exhaled sharply. "He's using you as a bargaining chip."

"Chips, plural. To great success, too. Why do you think my aunt's star pupil is tagging along painting portals for us? And as for him, the new equipment he's wearing is worth ten years by itself." They shrugged. "I'm down to what, fifty-odd years of service left now? If I'm lucky, I'll be free by the time number twelve goes down."

She looked down into her cup once again. "He planned this."

"A hundred steps ahead, right? Isn't that what you always said?" Sleeves sighed, then chuckled to themself. "At least he's on our side."

"Mm." Lou leaned back into her seat, looking over at Jehan spinning plates in the kitchen as he got breakfast ready. Looking out over the sea of tents, catching a glimpse of fellow troupe members just getting started with their day. The beds here were small and simple, but they were just as comfortable as the ones she'd known back home. "How is he?"

"Him? Oh he's fine. I mean... physically fine. He's still upset, of course, but you know. He's sort of had it coming for a while, so I personally happen to think it's for the best."

Lou felt that familiar twinge return, attempting to get a good grip on something vulnerable somewhere deep inside her chest. "It... it hasn't interfered with his plans, right?"

"What? Oh, no. If anything, he was even more effective right after your little chat. I would really like it if I never got to see him fight angry ever again." Sleeves drained their cup, the twitch returning to their eye again.

"I didn't expect it'd take this long."

"Heh, time flies, doesn't it? I think he figured the whole thing would be done by now, too. I miss dealing with the four who didn't put up too much of a fight. Those were the nice ones, the sensible ones. They gave up their slice of power 'cause he asked them nicely. The other eight—well... seven and a half, now—made it pretty clear they were gonna hold on to their share or die trying. Selfish despots. Well, we're done with the talking part. The rest will get what's coming to them."

"Mm." Images came unbidden to Lou's mind, the kind she hadn't thought about in a while. Suddenly she didn't feel like finishing her coffee. Maybe she'd skip breakfast, too.

"Anyway." Sleeves's eyes wandered around the table before settling on the smooth black leather case at their side. "About the reason I'm here. I got you something. Well, a promise of something." They clicked open the two latches with their thumbs and reached inside with both hands, grabbing something out of view.

Lou perked up. "What, like a gift?" she asked, craning her neck to see.

"Of sorts," Sleeves answered, bringing out two identical folded pieces of dull golden fabric. "Which one do you like more?"

Any sudden interest Lou had immediately vanished, replaced by a specific kind of bitterness she hadn't felt in years. "This again?" she asked, pressing her hands to the table as she rose to her feet. "Did you really come all this way just to trick me?! They're the same!"

Sleeves leaned back in surprise, wide-eyed but silent. They brought their hands up and forward, moving the two pieces of cloth closer to Lou. "Feel them?"

Lou stood there for a moment, heart pounding in her ears. She forced herself to take a deep breath, then reluctantly lifted her hands off the table. She gently touched one piece of fabric with her thumb and forefinger, then the other, rubbing both between her fingers. She sighed, her frustration slowly fading into resignation.

She sat back down, pointing to the one on the right. "This one, the light and breathable one." She crossed her arms, picking a tent off to the side to look at. "The soft one is nice, but it's a bit too soft."

Sleeves nodded, putting the two bundles back in their case, making sure the one Lou had selected was on top. "Is... a dress fine?"

Lou looked back to them, then to the fabric being lowered into the flat black case. She chuckled quietly. "Yeah, it is. I like them a lot." She could feel herself smiling, in spite of herself. "They catch the wind when I spin."

Sleeves looked at Lou for a moment.

"What?" she asked.

"You're really not just saying that, are you. I thought you were maybe, you know, taking it really well or something, or else you were doing your time-honored thing of rolling with the punches, but... no." They looked at her up and down, as if for the first time, then smiled that rare genuine smile. "This is you."

Lou could feel the color rush to her face, but this time she didn't mind. "This is me," she said with a little grin.

Sleeves shook their head, returning the grin. "You should've told me! All these months, we could've been best pals!"

"Yeah, well, I didn't know! It took me a while to figure things out. I had some help."

"Oh, here? Hah, I don't doubt that for a second!" They gave the camp another look, as if they were seeing it, too, for the first time. "I'm glad you found a good place."

Lou smoothed out the bottom of her coat, her gaze following Sleeves's. She had found many places to call her own over the course of her life, and even if this one had begun as something more temporary... she felt more at home here than anywhere else. "Me too."

"So," Sleeves said, rubbing their hands together, "the spinny kind of dress? That's the style you like? Not the new ones that hug the body more?"

"Like socialites wear? I mean... I guess I never thought about it. It might be fun to try. I have a couple of friends who really pull that look off." She put an elbow on the table and leaned on her hand. "Well, no, they're not exactly friends."

"Not enemies, I hope."

Lou smirked. "No, we're more like... actually, I'm not sure what we are. But we keep running into each other. It's a nice surprise, sometimes."

Beyond the dining area, a tent stirred; elsewhere, a large sheepdog barked. The camp was beginning to wake up, slowly but surely. "Sorry I snapped at you earlier," Lou finally said.

"No, I get it," Sleeves said with a sigh. "I'm the one who should ask for forgiveness. You had the truth of it, I did use a lot of dirty tricks on you back in the day."

"Yeah, you did."

"Hey, I'm trying to apologize here. I figured you were an easy mark, but once you started calling my bluffs I decided you were a worthy opponent."

"That doesn't sound like an apology."

"I'm sorry, alright? I'm sorry." Sleeves clapped their hands together in supplication. "I wanna make it up to you, starting with this." They pulled their hands apart, revealing a card between them: the Seven of Keys. They quickly brought it down onto the side of their black leather case and held it there for a moment, then flipped it over and inserted it into the paper-thin gap between the two latched halves. Before Lou could ask about it, Sleeves had slid the case over. "Here."

"You're... giving me the case?"

"I'm giving you what's in it. But not now! Later. Keep it closed."

Lou tilted her head. "What?"

"Trust me, okay? Keep it closed somewhere. Open it..." They looked up at the sky, searching for something. "At the next New Moon, not before. I'll make sure to have it ready by then." They tapped the top of the case. "Remember: open at night, next New Moon, not before."

"Alright," Lou said in resigned disbelief as she took the case, slowly sounding out each syllable. "Thank you?" She looked back at Sleeves. "Do you... need my measurements?"

They gave her a blank stare in return. Then they loosened up. "Oh, you're being serious. Lou, every tailor worth their salt has your measurements. They've had them for years."

"Oh, right. I guess I forgot."

Sleeves shook their head. "You have quite possibly the most famous body between crown and city. Well, soon to be second most famous."

"Yeah," Lou said pensively. Were there mannequins of the Prince's new body in famous tailors' shops now? "Still, people change in two years."

Sleeves shrugged. "You don't look that different to me. Y'know, I still can't believe you hid it from everyone so well. The visiting dignitaries, the royal guard, they worked with the princess for years! So many of us did! And all we saw was just another maid doing thankless work day in, day out."

"It wasn't so bad," Lou said, eyes drifting up to the sky; the same sky, both now and then, both here and there. "I was home. I had friends, food, a place to sleep... I was happy."

"Lou," Sleeves said, leaning forward before muttering to themself, "gods, that's still so weird to say." They quickly returned their attention to her. "Lou, you didn't look happy. You were crying all the time!"

"I wasn't!" Lou maintained, almost insulted. But part of her had to admit there was a modicum of truth behind those words. "Well... maybe happy isn't the right word. I was content. I was there, and he was too, and... it didn't need to be anything more than that. It was the bargain I'd made."

"With who, Sir Frederic?"

"Yeah. Well... and myself," she answered, cutting to the heart of the matter. "Fate too, I guess." She took another sip, deciding she wanted to finish her coffee after all. "For all the good fate has ever done for me."

"Fate!" Sleeves snapped their fingers. "Well, it just so happens I can help with that. Consider it part of a repayment for Past Sleeves's misdeeds." They reached into the inside pocket of their overcoat.

Lou eyed their hand quizzically as Sleeves produced a small rectangular bundle, unfolding the intricately-patterned piece of cloth around what turned out to be a deck of cards. Somehow throughout all this, she'd forgotten they had performed actual magic in front of her that night on the royal theater's balcony. Involved her in it, too. As a matter of fact, they'd done so even earlier, during their first meeting in the tower stairwell. Lou vividly remembered the Three of Knives cutting into stone; the Eight of Feathers allowing Sleeves to leap out of a window, practically weightless.

She looked at the black case by the edge of the table. They'd slipped a card in it just moments ago, hadn't they?

This specific brand of sorcery had not been anything Lou had ever been exposed to. Didn't you need complex magical circles for that, or the power of mythical creatures? For a moment she remembered what it was like to discover something for the very first time, where rules weren't yet established, and anything could happen. A different kind of magic there, too.

Sleeves laid the cloth out in a diamond shape, one corner pointing at themself and one at Lou. "Let's ask fate a question, shall we?"

Lou gave the cards a wide berth. If one card held so much power, what about dozens packed closely together? "The whole deck, really? Are you sure this is safe?"

"Oh, no, these aren't my other cards, don't worry. Those I keep for special occasions." They flipped cards over one by one: the Ace of Knives, the Two of Knives, the Three of Knives. "There's a very simple bit of divination you can do with these, the first they teach you."

They flipped another card: the Four of Knives. "Past or future. Backward or forward."

The Five of Knives. "Odds, you look behind you."

The Six of Knives. "Evens, you look ahead."

The Seven of Knives. "Odds, the answer was on the path that brought you here; reflect."

The Eight of Knives. "Evens, the answer will come to you along the way; stay alert."

Lou looked at the cards; some of them familiar, others not. "What about the present?"

"Present is both past and future. The words I'm speaking are past to me but future to you." They grinned. "At least, that's what my aunt told me when I asked her the same thing. But the short answer is that the present is too short for divination. You need a different kind of magic for that."

"So that's the kind of magic you chose."

"I prefer to say it chose me." Sleeves picked the cards back up with with nimble fingers, shuffling them as they spoke. "The trick to witchcraft is that there's as many paths to it as there are people; you just have to pick yours, and learn it well. Practice it every day, if you can. Sound familiar?" They slid the cards over. "Cut, please."

With great care, Lou reached over and gently picked up the top half of the deck, placing the cards in a second pile. They felt real enough, like thick paper; her fingers weren't bleeding either, after a brief inspection.

"See? What did I tell you." They put the deck back together and slid it to their end of the cloth. "Now, have you done this before?"

Lou shook her head. "There was a woman who had cards like these in my hometown, but I never got to talk to her. The other kids were scared of her." All the boys, specifically, but she didn't feel like saying that part out loud. Many had been the times that Lou had wondered what it would be like to have her fortune read. Now, though, most of her questions had come and gone, with few of the answers having made her happy. There was an apprehension that clung on to her childlike wonder.

"I'll explain along the way, then. All you need is a question. What would you like to ask fate? It can be something specific about you, about someone else, about a decision... or we can leave the question to fate as well." Sleeves looked up at her, not lifting their face from the deck before them.

She opened her mouth to speak, then thought against it. Part of her was screaming. This could just be another trick! Or, more likely, random chance masquerading as truth. Was Sleeves just trying to get her to admit something? Was the Prince in on it, despite what they'd said? Lou let that little voice inside of her get it all out; she let it warn her of every possible bad thing that could happen, might happen, would happen if she let down her guard. She welcomed it, and thanked it, and held it close. And then, together, they moved forward.

"I have my question," she said, her back straight, her eyes resolute.

"Good. You don't have to tell me what it is." They placed one card in the middle, then one to the left, and one to the right. "To your left is the past, to your right is the future."

Lou looked at the card in the middle. "I thought you said the present didn't matter."

"That's not the present," Sleeves said with a sly smile, "that's you."

Lou felt the hairs rise on the back of her neck. "Mm."

Sleeves pointed to the card representing the past. "Turn that over, please. This is where you're coming from," they said as Lou flipped the card, "it's where the journey of your question began—"

Three knives, piercing a heart, floating in the middle of a storm.

"Huh."

Lou glanced at Sleeves, searching their eyes for a hint. Was this a good or bad omen? She didn't know many cards, but she remembered that one. How could she forget it? She looked at the design again; it had been imprinted into her mind by now. "Heartbreak. Sorrow."

"Yyyeah," Sleeves said, looking at the deck, and almost touching it with a finger, but thinking against it at the last second. "Well. What are the odds, huh? Next, flip over—"

Lou reached for the middle card, but Sleeves's hand shot out to grab hers, stopping it. "Ah ah ah. You, little miss wolf, are the key to this whole thing. That card is you and you are the answer. We flip that one last." They pulled back their hand, letting Lou pull hers back as well.

There was a silence. A bit of an awkward one at that.

"Lou is fine. Really, it is."

"Sorry, sorry. I was going for something dramatic, it didn't work, I regretted it as soon as I said it." They clapped their hands. "Okay! Next card please, the future this time. This is the way forward."

Lou flipped the card over. Eight feathers soaring through the sky, as if forming the wings of a fiery bird. She lifted her head and made eye contact once again with Sleeves, who had gone silent. "This is the second card from that night. Are you sure this isn't one of your tricks?"

Sleeves stared back, unblinking. Their eyes drifted down to the card, making sure it was indeed the Eight of Feathers, and then back to her. "You cut the deck. Whatever question you asked, the cards are taking it seriously."

"Then what does this one mean?" she asked, genuinely curious now.

"Enthusiasm. Speed. Flight. The phoenix has risen from their ashes and is rushing headlong to their target." They steepled their fingers. "Fate will propel you to your goal, provided you can act on it without hesitation. In other words—"

"Don't waste time thinking when you can act." Lou found Sleeves's nervousness strangely comforting. She wasn't alone in being unnerved by the cards; or if she was, then her guest was faking it quite well. But right now, she chose to take their reactions at face value. They were in this together; just two people, asking fate a question. Might as well find the answer, then. She reached out to the center card.

"Not yet," Sleeves said, raising their hand.

"Don't we want to know the answer?"

"Not yet," they repeated. They took a long, deep breath, then dealt out two more cards, in a vertical line with the center card in the middle. The cards, now five in total, formed a cross.

"More cards? We have the past and the present, what's left?"

"Fate is giving your question its full attention, Lou. Let's find out as much as we can, shall we?" They pointed to the card closest to them. "There is something that looms over you. Go on and see what it is."

She stood up briefly to reach over to the card, turning it over. There was no mistaking what this was, no special meaning or cryptic image. Even though the name was on Sleeves's side, Lou didn't need to read the letters to know what they were.

"The Crown," they said in unison.

Sleeves laughed, but there was more than just humor or irony in their voice; this was a laughter Lou had been intimately familiar with, though the times she had heard it were moments she had tried to forget. This was laughter in the face of death. Laughter in the face of powers beyond one's own.

"What does it mean?" Lou asked.

"Exactly what you think it does."

"Him."

"Okay, maybe not exactly what you think," Sleeves said, their enthusiasm put on hold momentarily. "It doesn't mean the literal crown. Major cards are symbols, just like the minor ones. In a broader sense, this would be authority."

Lou looked at the card; at what the crown had meant for so much of her life. "Inescapable? Absolute? ...in a comforting way, sometimes? Am I on the right track?"

"Perhaps. But it's also reversed. It points to you, Lou." They tapped the table through the cloth right above the card, taking care not to touch the paper itself. "The power this authority has comes from you. You're the one stripping yourself of it, giving it away."

She felt her heart beat faster again. If this was fate's doing, then it was having a laugh at her expense. She couldn't help but feel this was a regular occurrence at this point. "What should I do then, take it back? Is that what the cards are saying?" Lou crossed her arms. "Some of the things I gave away, I don't want back. And besides, there's a lot I have retaken for myself. I'm not the same person I was two years ago, maybe fate ought to see that."

"Maybe. That's up to interpretation, like most forms of divination. But whatever you do going forward—and whether it comes from a need or a desire—you don't have to do it alone. Just like there's a presence looming over you, there's another one holding you up, giving you support." Sleeves motioned to the card closest to Lou. "If you know how to seek it out, and welcome it."

"Fine." Lou held her breath as she turned the card over this time. Whether this was just a show Sleeves had decided to put on or not, she no longer doubted there would be meaning in the next picture she saw.

A monumental circle of houses, of buildings, of plazas, shaped by hills, draped over a cliff. Teeming with life of all kinds, wrapped in foliage, basking in sunlight. And overlooking it all, at the topmost part of the circle, a castle.

"The City."

"Too late for that," Lou said, doing her best to hide her disappointment. "I left it a long time ago."

"No no Lou, again, this doesn't mean the literal capital. The city, metaphorical, the figure of speech. Community. Family. The people whose lives yours has touched. The bonds you've forged." Sleeves spread their arms out in a grandiose gesture, visibly losing themself to the reading again. "You are more than a mind in a body, Lou! All our lives are intertwined. Whether we share things or words or deeds, we share nonetheless; we become more than who we are. Together, we accomplish great things. Together, we form the City."

The words blew around Lou like a breeze, staying in the air just long enough for her to acknowledge them and little else. She could think about them later. For now, all she cared about was finding out what that last card was. She lifted her hand.

"NOT YET!" Sleeves said, slamming both hands down on the table with a WHAM! that sent Lou stumbling back and the cards flying up into the air.

But amazingly, impossibly, they did not fall back down.

"There is one more layer to fate!" Sleeves said, not dealing so much as flicking two more cards off the top of the deck, sending them flying as well; they came to a sudden stop around the center card once more, making the shape three-dimensional. Turning the cross into a diamond. Sleeves raised one hand and lowered another. "But just because influences are beyond our control does not mean they must be beyond our understanding."

Lou stepped forward again, back to the table. Other troupe members must have been up by now; surely, they would be concerned, or at least fascinated. But just like that night back on the balcony, the rest of the world had stopped existing. There was only Lou, Sleeves, and the cards. "Gods above and below," she said, barely above a whisper.

"Gods above and below," Sleeves repeated. "Below and above. Roots and stars. What feeds us and what guides us. What touched us before we ever knew, and what we know we will never touch."

The moment Lou's finger brushed the edge of the card floating at the bottom, it turned over. Suspended in place, letters facing Sleeves. A magic circle, surrounded by clouds and creatures unknown, on which a hooded figure sat.

"The Witch," Lou said. "Upside-down means it's bad, right? I know they hated me. They still do?" Her breath caught in her throat, tears bubbling up inside. "I was hoping they'd forgiven me." She felt like a fool. Of course it couldn't be that easy.

"You're being literal again. The Witch is magic, unseen forces, the ebb and flow of chance; a wish granted. And reversal does not make a fortune refuted; simply redirected. It can be a window to the past, or an obstacle. It can be a challenge." Sleeves's voice became lower, softer; compassionate, even. "This may refer to misfortunes and curses that you already know. You can accept your lot and hope that things will change, or you can step forward and change them. The reversed Witch calls you to act." Their mouth slowly spread into a grin. "She's daring you to break the cycle."

Lou's eyes drifted to the topmost card. She had her apprehensions; part of her wanted to stop, to walk away, to maintain whatever grip she had on her own fate. But she recognized this ritual for what it was; a plea for answers, for reassurance, for guidance. It would be impolite not to complete it.

She reached up and turned the card over, letting Sleeves read it; after all, it was facing them.

"This one might look scary, but don't let it fool you."

"I know," Lou said. "I'm not afraid of it." She balled up her hands into fists. "I think I've proven as much."

"Indeed you have." They motioned to The Grave, again careful not to touch the card. "But this isn't about death, or the threat of it. This is about an ending, and the beginning that follows it. It's about a change that you see coming, and cannot stop." Sleeves brought their hands down, finally, gently resting them on the table. "But you can accept it. You can embrace it. You can see what will begin to grow in its place."

"I've started to," Lou replied. She thought back to the person she was a decade ago; the person she had been just two years prior. "I'm closer now than I ever have been."

"Fate seems to agree." They lifted their hands, palms to the sky. "You've already faced an ending. Perhaps this is less about acceptance, and more about letting go."

Lou looked at the center card, the final card. The last one left unturned. She slowly reached out to it. "Time for the last one?"

"Time for answers."

Her thumb and forefinger grasped the card.

And the rest of them blew away in a sudden gust of wind.

"Aw crap, no!" Sleeves said, kicking their chair over as they stumbled back and scrambled to grab the cards being carried away by the wind. "No, no, I almost had it this time! Come back!!"

Lou sat back down, in a daze. There was still barely anyone up. Jehan himself hadn't noticed anything at all, clearly still absorbed by the monumental task of preparing breakfast for so many people. Their little divination session had thankfully remained private. Lou looked down at the carefully-crafted rectangle of thick paper stock in her hand, almost scared to turn it over. Almost. She took a deep breath, and flipped it. Rotated it end over end, so she could see the picture better.

A woman with golden hair, sitting by the sea, with cliffs in the distance. Holding something precious in her hands. Her face a well of emotions. Good or bad? Joy or sorrow? The art was a little too small to make it out. Or perhaps that was the intent, to leave it up to interpretation. Lou moved her thumb so she could read the words.

"Ugh, I was so close this time!" Sleeves flipped their chair back up and collapsed on top of it, tidying up the scattered cards as best they could. "I was in the zone! You could feel it too, right? I finally felt it, the thing my aunt's always going on about. 'Become a vessel!' and so on, 'let fate speak through you!' and such. Uuugh. Sorry about this. I really wanted to..." They trailed off once they noticed what she was holding. "You caught it? Oh! What is it? Maybe I can still finish the reading. Which one is it?"

Lou gave them back the card, lost in thought.

"The Princess of Tears."

Somewhere, a child began to cry.

It was still morning when Lou quietly returned to her tent, closing up the flap. As her eyes adjusted to the relative darkness, she saw a pair of arms outstretched, beckoning her. She smiled. "I'll be right there," she whispered, taking off her coat and her boots.

"You were gone for a while."

"Sorry, I had a visitor. We had a lot of catching up to do. I'll tell you about it over breakfast."

"Mm."

Lou gently wrapped up all the thoughts and emotions causing a ruckus in her head and set them aside, promising to get to them later. For now, she still had a little bit of time to enjoy what remained of the beginning of her day. The moment she nestled herself under the covers, sharing her warmth with the other two in the bed, her head gently tucked under Chiffon's chin... she was out like a light.

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