[Volume 2 | Chapter 50: Orion's Lioness (II)]

Acacia stared up at the approaching tower, momentarily distracted from their grim conversation by its architectural "chutzpah"—so to speak. The structure seemed to defy gravity, ribbons of white stone spiraling upward to support crystalline expanses of glass that caught the morning light like diamond facets. At its base, a circular plaza was the hub for several major avenues, converging on this central point like spokes on a wheel.

"It's not subtle," he blankly remarked.

"I'm not sure why you thought the seat of a Viceroy's power would be anything but extravagant. She isn't one for subtlety. Not in architecture, and certainly not in disposition." Pandora maneuvered the Spectre GT deftly, turning down a broad avenue that led directly to the tower's grand entrance.

Approaching the plaza, Acacia noted the increasing security presence in the form of uniformed guards at checkpoints, subtle [Bounded Fields] shimmering almost imperceptibly at key intersections, and the occasional patrol of what could only be elite security guards and Knights given the sophistication of their gear. He could feel him and Pandora being scrutinized, analyzed, and assessed from every angle.

"...Are you sure this is normal? Even if it's the Viceroy, the security is intense."

"Well, Viceroy Bismarck shares the title of the most powerful person in Orion," Pandora reminded him. "Only Alexander Altair, head of House Altair, holds just as much influence as her. Actually, in practical terms, her day-to-day authority actually exceeds his."

The Spectre GT slowed as they reached a checkpoint at the plaza's perimeter. A guard stepped forward, uniform immaculate and posture rigid.

"State your business," he began, then faltered as recognition dawned. "Ah, High Inquisitor Kircheisen! My apologies, ma'am. We weren't expecting you to arrive in a personal vehicle."

Acacia assumed that one of the [Bounded Fields] must have deactivated Pandora's concealment spell to scramble her identity to strangers.

"Plans changed, Lieutenant," Pandora replied smoothly. "The Viceroy is expecting us."

"Of course, ma'am." The guard snapped to attention, gesturing to his colleagues to clear their path. "The VIP entrance is available on the eastern side. Your clearance has already been registered in the system."

Pandora nodded her acknowledgment as the barrier lifted, allowing them to proceed into the plaza. The Spectre GT purred around the circular drive, passing an ornate fountain at the center before turning toward what appeared to be a discrete entrance set apart from the main thoroughfare.

"Remember, Viceroy Bismarck may seem approachable—even friendly—but never forget that she's the mastermind of Orion's entire political landscape. Everything she says or does serves a purpose."

"You make her sound terrifying," Acacia muttered as the automobile approached the eastern entrance.

"Terrifying implies irrationality. Lorelei Bismarck is perfectly rational, which makes her infinitely more dangerous. She's the youngest Viceroy in Empire history, appointed at twenty-four to replace a staunch conservative. In six years, she's transformed Orion's political landscape while systematically eliminating her opposition. And she's done it all with a smile, with all the support of the progressives as well."

As Mercutio, Pandora knew what it took to ensure hegemony—and the ruthlessness it required to stay there. For all she could list that was irritating about that woman, she had to respect her in that sense.

The Spectre GT soon glided to a halt before a short flight of marble steps. Immediately, a uniformed attendant materialized to open Pandora's door.

"High Inquisitor Kircheisen, Her Excellency's chambers have been prepared for your arrival," the man intoned formally, bowing at precisely the correct angle to indicate respect devoid of subservience.

The ebony woman nodded, stepping from the vehicle with the fluid grace of someone accustomed to such formalities. Acacia, receiving no such assistance, awkwardly extracted himself from the passenger side, tugging at his tie again the moment his feet touched pavement.

"Her Excellency extends her apologies, but there will be a slight delay in your audience," the attendant continued. "A matter requiring immediate attention arose approximately seven minutes ago. In the interim, refreshments have been arranged in the eastern reception hall."

"I see," Pandora replied, her expression betraying nothing. "And how long do you anticipate this delay will last?"

The attendant consulted a small device strapped to his wrist.

"Initial estimates suggest no more than twenty-three minutes, ma'am."

"Very well. We'll proceed to the reception hall then."

And at that very moment, everything shattered.

"PANDORA! MY RADIANT MOONBEAM!"

Acacia watched with fascination as the High Inquisitor's entire body tensed, her expression cycling through several emotions—shock, irritation, resignation, and finally settling her usual cold professionalism that wouldn't have looked out of place at a funeral.

Striding toward them across the plaza came a man whose presence altered the atmosphere.

Tall and leanly built, he moved like a buzzard, somehow managing to appear both perfectly at ease and ready for action. His black hair was styled in what Acacia could only describe as a Fioran mullet, paired with a thin goatee and mustache that should have looked ridiculous but somehow enhanced his rugged, tannish features. The man sported a military uniform of deep blue trimmed with silver, adorned with enough medals to suggest he'd either distinguished himself in numerous battles or successfully raided a war criminal's trophy cabinet. But it wasn't his appearance that made him stand out; it was the aura of chivalry and charisma he projected like a gravitational field. Not to mention that prana he passively exuded, which to an Irregular like Acacia, was almost drowning.

"Sir Ezio Pelagius," Pandora breathed out his name as if it were a curse.

Rather than taking offense, the man threw back his head and laughed—a rich, booming sound that echoed across the plaza.

"Still as sweet as honeyed vinegar, I see!" He swept into a bow so theatrically perfect it bordered on parody. "My heart soars like an eagle on thermals at the sight of your elegance, especially in such feminine attire! The dress suits you magnificently—though I maintain that nothing would suit you better than my family name."

Pandora's golden eyes narrowed to dangerous slits.

"I've told you approximately 847 times—"

"849, actually," Ezio corrected cheerfully. "You rejected my advances twice last month during the Security Council briefing. Though the second occasion was more of a threatened disembowelment than an outright refusal. I choose to interpret your creative methods of rejection as a sign of deepening affection~"

A lesser woman—or man, for that matter—would have blushed at Ezio's brazen flirtation. Pandora, however, radiated icy fury that could have frozen boiling water mid-splash.

"Who is this guy and why is he trying to commit social suicide by flirting with you in public?" Acacia recoiled, leaning closer to the ebony woman as Ezio continued to wax poetic about her various virtues.

"This," Pandora said through gritted teeth, "is Ezio Pelagius, personal Knight and right hand of Viceroy Lorelei Bismarck. Orion's most persistent, incorrigible, and utterly shameless womanizer."

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"Why would you call me a womanizer when my heart belongs to you alone, my dearest Pandora?" Ezio interjected with a wounded expression. "My attempts to court you are the purest expressions of love!"

Pandora heavily sighed. It was too much work, and too early to get mad.

"And who is this young gentleman?" Ezio inquired, studying Acacia with genuine interest. "Not a boyfriend, surely? I would be utterly devastated!"

"...This is Acacia Belmont. My ward."

"Ward? You've adopted a child? The maternal instincts I always knew lurked beneath that frosty exterior have finally emerged!" He clasped his hands dramatically over his heart. "This changes everything! I must immediately update my courtship strategy to include my excellent stepfatherly qualities!"

"Oh, are you just saying that because I'm sho—"

"He's not a child," Pandora clarified and interrupted a potential crashout from her ward. "and your 'courtship strategy' remains as unwelcome as ever."

....Besides those last few seconds, Acacia had been studying the strange man. Despite his theatrical mannerisms, there was something undeniably dangerous about Ezio—an aura of latent power that hummed beneath the surface of his flamboyant persona. The way he moved, the perfect balance he maintained even in apparent repose, the calculated awareness in his eyes that missed nothing...

Was this truly how a knight conducted themselves?

"Sir Ezio Pelagius," the man introduced himself, offering Acacia a handshake far more restrained than his personality would suggest. "Knight of the Eastern Vanguard, humble servant of Viceroy Bismarck, and eternal aspirant to your guardian's affections."

"Pelagius? As in the House of Pelagius? One of the Eight Sovereign Houses?" The name clicked into place in Acacia's memory.

Ezio's expression brightened. "The boy has been studying politics, I see! Yes, indeed. Second son of Everard V Pelagius, though I find court politics dreadfully dull compared to actual service."

Acacia accepted the handshake, immediately noting the calloused palm and controlled strength—the hand of someone who had seen actual combat rather than merely ceremonial duties.

"World War III veteran," he deduced aloud, recalling snippets of information gleaned from his readings. "Pacific Theater, if the medal arrangement means what I think it does."

Surprise flickered across Ezio's features before settling into genuine approval. "Precise observation! Yes, I had the privilege of serving in several engagements against the Sugoroku Fleets. Though, I'm surprised you recognized the medals—I wasn't aware they were taught in schools these days."

"I suppose I indulge myself in a bit of history," Acacia admitted, releasing the man's hand with a respectful nod.

"If you've finished with the introductions," Pandora interrupted coldly, "perhaps you could explain why you're here instead of attending to your duties?"

"Ah! Yes! Her Excellency dispatched me personally to escort you to her chambers. The delay has been resolved more quickly than anticipated." He leaned closer to Pandora, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "I volunteered, of course. Any chance to bask in your radiance is worth incurring my mistress's mild annoyance at my enthusiasm."

"The Viceroy sent you as an escort? That seems unnecessary given my familiarity with the Spire's layout."

"Perhaps she wished to provide me an opportunity to convince you of my worthiness," Ezio suggested, winking dramatically at Acacia as if sharing a great secret. "Or, conceivably, she simply enjoys watching you suffer my attentions. She does possess a rather refined sense of humor."

"Oh my days. I don't know whether to laugh or gag," Acacia sighed.

"Shut up, Acacia. I will not give that woman more ammunition than she already has," Pandora coldly rebuked.

Ezio bowed again, somehow making the formal gesture seem respectful and slightly mocking. "This way, if you please. Mr. Belmont, I'd be delighted to answer any questions you might have about the Northern Spire as we ascend. It's quite the architectural marvel."

As they entered the building, Acacia found himself speechless. The exterior, impressive as it was, had only hinted at the interior's grandeur. Soaring ceilings supported by impossibly delicate columns gave the entrance hall an ethereal quality, while natural light poured through strategically placed skylights, creating patterns across the polished marble floor. The entire space felt designed to inspire awe without being ostentatious—power expressed through elegant restraint rather than gaudy excess.

"Constructed in 212 E.V. but has recently renovated in 416 E.V., the Northern Spire is the pinnacle of Orion's architectural innovation," Ezio explained as he led them toward a bank of elevators. "The central column utilizes Enhancement Thaumaturgy to maintain structural integrity far beyond conventional building methods, while the glass panels incorporate [Speculum] variations that regulate temperature and filter harmful radiation without sacrificing transparency."

"Woah..." Acacia gasped, his gaze following the lines of the Spire's architecture upward as if he could trace the flow of thaumaturgical engineering through the structure itself.

"Indeed, the 'woah' is quite apt!" Ezio agreed cheerfully. "The Viceroy oversees Orion's governance from this very spire, her influence extending across the province like the roots of a great tree, nourishing and supporting its people. And the view from her chambers is... well, you'll see in just a moment."

As they approached the elevators, Ezio pressed his palm to a discreet panel beside one set of doors. The surface illuminated briefly, confirming his identity.

"VIP access granted. Welcome, Sir Ezio Alessio Pelagius."

The doors slid open silently, revealing an elevator cabin paneled in what appeared to be actual wood. It was a subtle showing of luxury.

"After you," Ezio gestured gallantly to Pandora, who entered with a barely audible sigh of resignation.

Acacia followed, noting the complete absence of floor buttons within the cabin. Instead, a small crystal embedded in the wall pulsed with soft blue light. Ezio touched this, and the elevator began a smooth, rapid ascent.

"So, young Belmont," the knight turned his attention back to Acacia, "I understand you've had quite the exciting introduction to Windsor. Bloodhounds, hospital stays, and now an audience with my mistress! Most refugees don't receive such... distinctive welcomes."

The emphasis on "refugees" was subtle but unmistakable.

Acacia tensed. Did Ezio know about the «Red Key»? Did he know the true extent of the schemes Pandora and Bismarck were orchestrating around him?

Was it... okay to trust him?

"News travels fast," he neutrally intoned, trying to match the knight's casual tone.

"In certain circles," Ezio agreed, his playful demeanor undercut by shrewd assessment in his eyes. "Particularly when it involves my moonbeam's unexpected acquisition of a ward with such impeccable timing."

"Sir Ezio, perhaps we could dispense with the interrogation disguised as small talk? Unless you're hoping for another round of 'threatened disembowelment,' I suggest you focus on the task of escorting us rather than prying into matters that do not concern your duties," Pandora icily interjected.

"My moonbeam, you wound me! I'm merely making conversation with Windsor's newest resident. After all, any person important enough to merit the combined attention of the High Inquisitor, the Bloodhounds, and now my mistress must be a fascinating individual indeed."

"I'm really not that interesting. I'm just fortunate to have found help when I needed it most." Acacia humbly shut down any more prodding from the knight.

"Ah... I see. So that's how it is."

Ezio's eyes flickered between Acacia and Pandora, a knowing glint suggesting he had drawn his own conclusions from their non-answers.

The elevator slowed to a gentle stop. The doors slid open to reveal a reception area unlike any governmental space the boy had ever imagined. Where most official chambers embraced formality, this space exuded a sense of home. Warm light filtered through tall windows, illuminating walls lined with actual bookshelves rather than imposing portraits of stern officials. Comfortable seating arrangements created intimate conversation areas, while strategic placement of rare plants brought vibrant life to the environment.

The overall effect was less "seat of provincial power" and more "sophisticated salon of a scholarly hostess."

Ezio led them across the reception area toward a set of double doors crafted from the same rich wood as the elevator. Unlike the rest of the space, these doors bore the official seal of the Viceroy of Orion—a windmill overlaid with a compass rose, symbolizing both the province's famous renewable energy and its northeastern position within the Empire.

Ezio paused before the doors, his expression suddenly serious.

"A word of advice, Mr. Belmont."

Gone was the theatrical playboy, now replaced by the veteran knight that sunk ships and men alike.

"Her Excellency sees more than most. Approach with honesty, and you'll find no fairer judge in the Empire. Attempt deception, and... well, there's a reason her political rivals tend to retire unexpectedly to remote locations."

With that ominous warning, he rapped his knuckles against the wooden surface in a distinctive pattern. The frequency was very uncommon to Acacia.

A private code?

After a brief pause, a voice, rich and melodic, answered from within.

"Enter."

Ezio pushed the doors open, bowing deeply as he announced: "High Inquisitor Pandora Kircheisen and her ward, Acacia Belmont, as requested, Your Excellency."

He stepped aside, ushering them into the chamber beyond. As Acacia crossed the threshold, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was walking into something far more significant than a mere meeting.

After all, the Acacia from the future could attest that this was where everything had started, wasn't it?

"Do try not to stare at her breasts, even if it's difficult not to."

Ezio whispered that into his ear. Acacia felt his cheeks flush scarlet before entering the inner sanctum.

At its center stood the busty woman herself.

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