In the months following Zorzal's triumphant return to the capital, the emperor announced his son would be moving out of the Imperial Palace and into his own, smaller, palace. A reward for his hard work. A sign of growing up in some cultures.

I see it more as a sign that the emperor wanted Zorzal out of his home after he seemingly allowed his forces to be decimated in his bunny warrior campaign. In the weeks leading up to the announcement, I don't actually remember seeing the two in the same room even once. But whenever I would see him, Zorzal would be adamant that our father was simply jealous of him and his achievements.

So, no love lost between the two with the split up.

Still, the situation left me as the sole imperial child still living in the palace 'full time'.

I simply needed room to 'spread my wings' as they say.

The emperor refused me the first few (dozen) times. The answers were always the same: I was too young. It was too much work for me to manage my own estate. I should just focus on my studies. There was no need to rush things. It was frustrating because I knew he knew that I was more than capable of handling something like this. After all, I was successfully managing several locations in Sadera that functioned as pseudo charities for the poor and downtrodden. I even had plans to expand these amenities beyond the city limits. So, to say I was 'not ready' made me a tiny bit peeved.

Eventually, either he thought I was 'ready' or grew tired of my constant begging since he gave me a 'clubhouse' on my twelfth birthday.

Calling the building a 'clubhouse' understated the sheer size and opulence of the building. While nowhere near as opulent as Pina's Jade Palace where she headquarters her Rose Order Knights, it was still a substantial property. It was a gated structure on the outskirts of the city, filled with all manner of expensive artwork, priceless antiques, an expansive library, numerous sitting rooms and dining areas, a handful of bedrooms, and was fully staffed from the get-go.

Not that I was complaining, mind you. It would serve as an excellent base of operations for my future plans.

The other added benefit of the location was how, due to its relatively isolated location (as much as an upper-class property only a thirty-minute walk from the city gates can be) I was able to stretch my muscles.

---
---

Over the years, I've realized just how soft I've grown. I'm so much slower. So much weaker than I remember being in my last life at the same time. If a hard life can breed a hardy person, a soft life breeds a soft person. Not that one's lifestyle has that much of an effect, the point stands. While I refuse to join Pina's knights, I have no desire to join her little troop, nor can I really spar with any of the guards. Each and everyone is too terrified that they'd hurt me and lose their heads. No matter how many times I tell them, they rather play it safe.

That left really only one person I could effectively spar with.

"Fuck!" Cordeila swore as she was thrown back from a blast of mana. She managed to right herself bfore hitting the ground, skidding to a halt before she hit the property's outer wall. Wiping the sweat off her brow, she charged again.

I have to say, her constant attacks do vaguely remind me of that humorous question regarding the definition of insanity.

She is a very blunt person by nature. That translated over to how she fought. Beyond some rudimentary tactics, she always attacks head on with the intent to overwhelm her opponent with the sheer brutality of her attacks. I've seen her punches crack stones twice her size, so I have a good idea of what the result of being hit will be.

Her greatest weakness, beyond the lack of creativity, is her inability to pace herself. While she may observe a foe from a distance before the battle, once she's in combat she does not slow down for anything. The longer a battle goes on, the more exhausted she gets, and the sloppier her form becomes.

Another thing I have noticed is that Cordelia's choice of dress is somewhat… odd for a front-line warrior. No real armor to speak of, her midriff fully exposed, it seemed to emphasize her figure that provided protection. The only article on her that was even remotely 'normal' was a turtleneck-like shirt she wore to hide the collar she was forced to wear at all times from sight. Not my choice (the collar that is) but she seemed to have found a solution that satisfies most observers.

I'm also certain Zorzal has no idea how close he was to losing his fingers to Cordelia's sharp teeth when he pulled the turtleneck back one time to make sure Cordelia 'still knew her place'. I still have no idea what that man keeps parading around the former queen. With her physical condition continuously getting worse and worse, it only reflects badly on him if people start to question what else he might be doing out of sight if he thinks this is an acceptable thing to show.

But back to Cordelia's choice of attire. I found it a very risky proposition for a woman of all people to wear in battle. Though I suppose that might be the point. The time a warrior spends gawking at your figure is time he doesn't raise his guard to stop your dirk from digging into his throat.

Still, you won't see me running around half naked on the battlefield even if I had the durability of a demi human.

However, speaking of durability.

I let loose a pair of arcane orbs at Cordelia in the midst of one of her 'fall back and charge' motions. She reacted quickly enough, crossing her arms to protect herself. The orbs impacted with a satisfying crack, yet did little damage to her. Granted I am pulling my punches to not accidentally grievously wound or kill her, but there should have been at least some irritated skin or bruising on her arms.

It is one thing to hear about demi-human's superiority over baseline humans, it is quite another to see it play out before your eyes.

Cordelia charged again, her blows striking with all the force of a high caliber round. The amount of crush force being exerted on her fists as they flailed against my rudimentary barrier would be easily enough to shatter the hand of any human. They should be more bloody stumps than fists.

"Why Wont It Break!" each word echoed by a crack as her fists struck my magical shield.

Little did Cordelia realize that she actually was doing something. Her continuous blows have been slowly pushing me back, centimeters at a time. And my barrier was constantly on the verge of failing under her relentless assault. If she were to just keep hammering away rather than back off after several moments of furious assault, my shield would shatter in half a minute.

To my eyes, it seemed like she was taught a very repetitive form of attack. Not that it isn't effective, merely inflexible with things that break the mold, such as magic. Still, with sweat now dripping profusely from her brow, her breathing becoming more labored, and the speed of her blows noticeably slowing down, I believe that now would be the best time to end this.

Dropping the barrier, I ducked from her following strike. Concentrating my mana into my fist, I struck her exposed gut in a swift uppercut. Cordelia gasped as all the air left her lungs and she slumped to the ground. Her dry coughs echoed across the courtyard as she tried to fill her chest with air.

while two maids rushed over to my side to check my condition.

"You're getting better," I tell the coughing bunny girl, I try to swat away the maids who rushed over following the duel's end who were trying to fix my hair of all things. "You need to learn to not expend all your strength in the first few minutes. You get too sloppy, too predictable.

"Yeah…good hit…I'm going inside," red faced with obvious embarrassment at being beaten by someone so much younger than her, Cordelia clutched her stomach as she got to her feet. Wiping some dirt off her face, the albino gave me a lazy wave as she marched towards the property, not meeting my gaze. While our acquaintanceship started rocky, it has turned into something a tad more functional.

Dare I say, we are cordial now?

Probably due to me actually keeping my word to her.

I've been saving as many of her people from slavery as I can. Purchasing them before legally emancipating them. The results are a mixed bag. On one hand, the women were grateful for being saved. On the other hand, they had nowhere to go. Most of these women were warriors with little to no other skills. Or at least the ones I freed in the capital were like that. Apparently, men get off on dominating women who can rip them in half. Who knew?

Still the issue was what to do with them? A good number just left the city. No doubt bound for their homelands to fight a guerrilla war against local imperial forces. Some would probably turn to crime without further employment, while others had no avenue of advancement beyond employment in the same industries, I had just brought them out due to being demi humans.

Funnily enough, it was Myui Formal that came up with a solution to that problem. Her father, the Count of Italica, had a thing for saving demi-humans by giving them stable work and employment. Which I still find kind of strange that an imperial noble would care that much about demi humans. Not that I was complaining.

So Myui sent her father a letter, he agreed, and was now taking in dozens of the warrior women into his employ.

So, one headache down.

Looking at the sky, I saw that it was almost noon. Easily enough time to wash and get myself presentable for my guests due to arrive in a couple of hours.

"Julia, get the bath ready, and tell Gaius to bring the documents over." I instructed my maid. As Julia curtsied and rushed over to fulfill my orders, I could feel the next headache coming on.

---
---

Freeing slaves and having some soup kitchens is one thing, but real change is needed to make this country 'better'. More properly stratified with a functioning middle class to help facilitate the move away from agriculture to early manufacturing, and in turn, the beginnings of a modern economy. And with a modern economy, maybe, just maybe, the commoners will not exterminate the members of the monarchy when they inevitably rise up.

And it is when, not if. And I refuse to have my head on a pike because some noblemen couldn't help but not whip his serfs for amusement.

But to make these changes, I need the power of law on my side.

I need to work through the Senate.

Now barring the obvious issues, me being both a female and a child, I did have some ways of influencing the Senate. By sheer virtue of my birth, I was a powerful person, female or not. I could wield a kind of soft power few could dream of in this Empire. And I plan to use this soft power to shove as many reforms down this legislature's throat that I am able to.

In the past few months, I've had Gaius go through his old contacts to find someone, anyone, that I could work with.

That proved about as difficult as I thought it would be.

The Senate was a body made up of one thousand senators from across the length and breadth of the Empire. Each senator was elected for life by local landowners and were expected to work in their constituents' best interests. Seems simple enough. But then we get to the quirks of Saderan governance.

The Senate was made up of several factions. Political parties formed by collections of senatorial cliques. In simple terms, the Senate can be divided into thirds. Two thirds are dominated by two factions, while the final third is composed of every other faction.

The two biggest factions are the Militarists and the Civics.

The Militarists, as the name implies, are militarists. Quite the revelation. While they do focus heavily on aggressive posturing and military action as a first response to any issue, they also try to improve the lives of veterans. They lobby for larger tracts of land as a reward for service, a flow of funds to wives whose husbands are on campaign

Their counterpart is the Civics faction. A collection of more civic minded senators. Arts, education, public works, aqueducts, roads, diplomacy, these are the domains of this faction. They are also the faction most likely to try and uphold the status quo.

One would think that having a faction devoted to war while the other is devoted to civil matters would be a recipe for disaster and endless gridlock.

Thankfully, for the Empire's own sake, the orthodoxy of the respective factions is quite moderate and aligned with one another on most issues. The point of argument is less if something is to be done, but how it will be done.

For example, say a new roadway needs to be built from Sadera to a far-flung province. Both factions would agree to the road's necessity, but they will quibble and debate over smaller things such as who pays for the road.

The militarists would say majority of the upkeep, two-thirds in this case, for the road should be provided by the provincial governments themselves, with the remaining third being accounted for by the Imperial treasury.

The Civics would argue that the cost should be split evenly down the middle, half from the province, half from the treasury.

Comedic as the situation is, there is something to be said about the stability of centrism.

Not to downplay that genuinely divisive issues do crop up from time to time. The criteria for citizenship, the expansion of serfdom, the expansion/reinstatement/retirement of the legions, which barbarian tribes are 'friends' of Sadera and which are to be subjugated first. These are the hot topic issues that will grind the Senate to a standstill with neither side having enough votes to override the other.

Which is where the minor factions come in.

There is a dizzying array of interest groups and political players as opposed to the 'big tent' structure of the main factions. Hyper focused on a single topic or issue to the expense of all others. They tend to constantly get voted out by two main factions when they try to do something really crazy, but when the Senate is in a deadlock, they are the ones who can break it.

While they are numerous, only a few of these minor factions actually have any weight.

The Imperialists are a sycophantic group of senators whose sole platform is just agreeing with whatever the emperor says. They are yes-men in the extreme.

The Monetarists are a faction dedicated to protecting the rights and privileges of the various guilds and tradesmen of the Empire. Made up of mostly impoverished land owners, they are fabulously paid by said groups to vote in the mercantile class's financial interests.

The Stoics are a collection of moral busybodies who want to crack down on 'moral degeneracy' within the Empire. What kind of degeneracy? Whatever flavor of hedonism that seems to be in vogue at any given time from what I've read.

The Flagellants are religious busybodies. While they hardly whip themselves in the traditional sense they bend over backwards whenever the 'Gods' command them to do so. The fact that Gods actually 'exist' makes me want to groan, because of course there has to be more "Gods". Dealing with Being X is hard enough, I think I would lose it if I had to deal with another twenty of them each with their own little things going on.

The Senatorial faction is a collection of senators who constantly try to wrestle more executive power from the crown into the hands of the Senate. Or 'back into the hands of the Senate' they would say. Sadera is a weird inversion of Roman civil development. Rather than a monarchy that became a republic, Sadera was originally a republic that became a monarchy.

They also love bringing up the old chicken and egg argument over who has power over who. Does the emperor have power over the Senate since he can unilaterally remove senators, change the number of senate seats at any time, and even refuse to approve a person's ascension to the senate.

Or does the Senate have power over the emperor, since legally an emperor must be confirmed by the Senate before they assume any of the powers of the office.

A question for people who actually care about semantics. And irrelevant, since history has shown that whoever has the loyalty of the army cows the Senate into confirming them.

In the end, no one likes the Senatorial faction, but they have a lot of money to throw around so you can't just ignore them outright.

And finally, and most importantly for my needs, is the Populist faction. They are, as the name implies, populists. They tend to kick up a fuss whenever some lord over exercises his authority over citizens or some citizen's rights are infringed upon. And, for my sake, they vote in favor of any law that improves the quality of life of the average citizen.

Such as my proposal to redistribute unused and underutilized land of absentee landlords to citizens to farm.

Oh, I can still feel the capitalist in me die a bit when I talk about backing a form of socialist policy. Yet the utilitarian in me can't help but think how such tracts of land can be better utilized rather than simply sitting there. A good way of getting rid of the urban poor whose farms were bought by large mercantile firms was to simply confiscate unused lands and give it back to the people.

It's not as simple as that, there are a hundred and one ways this needs to be ironed out before real implementation, but the framework is there. Hence my meeting with two important senators in the lead up to having this introduced.

---
---

"So that's that?"

"For now, unless either of you have something you wish to add," I opened the floor to the pair seated across from me.

Stilicho was the closest thing I have seen of a rags to riches story in the Empire. A half barbarian born out of the relationship between a legionary and barbarian captive, he enlisted in the legion when he was old enough, completed his twenty years of service to gain full citizenship, reenlisted for another twenty years, achieved the rank of centurion, settling down on the lands he helped conquer, and now being elected to the Senate to represent the local landowners of his area. Quite the life story.

Even in his early seventies, the man certainly looked the part of an old soldier. Skin covered in wrinkles and sun blotches, fingers covered in calluses, joints stiff from old age, and a voice that was raspy from decades of bellowing orders above the sounds of battle.

By contrast, my other guest was seemingly the complete opposite of Stilicho in every regard.

Victrix grew up the youngest son of the Albina family, a dynasty of patricians who boast of the one time an ancestor of their family held the title of Dictator in the old republic. In modern times, they are merely a fabulously wealthy family with considerable holdings across the Empire, who threw their support behind the Augustus family's claim to the throne in the aftermath of the Northern War two centuries ago. After being lavishly rewarded by the first Augustus emperor for their early support to his claim, they have been the most stalwart of sycophants in the Imperial faction.

But not Victrix.

After his Father bought him a Senate seat (sorry, arranged an emergency election for a recently created Senate seat) it was expected that Victrix would just join the rest of his family in the Senate and agree with whatever the Emperor said.

But he didn't.

He instead joined the Populists and began to openly campaign against the very practices and ethics that got him his seat in the first place. I can't tell if that was genuine naiveté or an attempt to stand out from his family. He wasn't that naïve since he never gave up his seat.

Still, Gaius was certain that these two men were the ones I needed to sway to get my first legislation through. Stilicho had a lot of sway with the Militarists, Victrix was the unofficial leader of the Populists, the Monetarists will be compelled by their benefactors to vote in favor of any legislation that can possibly break up patrician economic dominance, and the Imperialists will probably not vote against it since I am the one pushing this through.

That just left the Civics, who will oppose any move to break up their estates, no matter how unprofitable they are for them. Additionally, the Senatorials will refuse any move that may have the chilling effect that moves into the realm of seizing more and more property from land owners.

The Stoic and Flagellant factions are a coin toss along with the myriad of senators who just wander about between factions.

Even should everything go to plan, the margins will be slim.

"So will the Militarists support the legislation?"

"I can only promise that the majority will not immediately dismiss it," Stilicho explained. "Your provision for veterans to be given priority selection for land will give the more aristocratic elements pause. Rejecting giving land to plebeians is one thing, refusing veterans in such an open way is quite another. While the majority will probably vote in favor, I can see some of my fellows splitting off.

"So, we need to force this down their throats while we have the time," I ask, reasonably sure I understood his point.

"They'll probably try to get Evander's group to their side, a man to rally around and sway the vote," the veteran sighed. "I'd say we have a fortnight before we know which way the wind blows on that decision."

"Longer, if ever," Victrix spoke up, his eyes skimming over the document while a servant poured him another glass of wine. "Evander and his cronies will twist the knife a bit before they begin listing genuine demands to join their votes. He's just too spiteful to just let bygones be bygones."

"And those demands would be?"

"Something humiliating I assume," the young man nodded to himself. "We can probably nip the aristocrats' little revolt by providing some minimum amount of land for the redistribution to take effect, along with an added clarification to what an 'absentee landlord' is. That should be more than enough to break up that block's unity."

"Do it," I ordered Gaius, the man scribbling down my comments on his own paper. "Find out how much land the average aristocrat in that group owns and make the minimum slightly above that. Anything else Senator Victrix?"

"The only thing I can really see is that no slaves addition. We'd get the various mercantiles universal support if we simply allowed-"

"No," I cut Victrix off. "The use of slaves defeats the whole purpose of giving people land to work themselves. If we allows slaves to be used on these lands, it'll just bring in small land owner to buy up the land and work it with their slaves." The real reason was that I just didn't like slave labor, but he didn't need to know that.

"Also builds character," Stilicho added, nodding at my 'rationale'. "A slave is useful as any beast of burden, but true character is built when one tills the land they sow. And too many beasts doing the work of man? That breeds idleness and sloth."

"Spoken like a true censor," Victrix pushed his spectacles up as he gave the veteran a deadpan stare. No doubt rolling his eyes internally since he probably grew up on a vast estate, tended by untold numbers of slaves, where he did no real manual labor and still turned out 'alright' to his mind.

The conversation went on from there. More technicalities, more specifications, more clarifications. I was prepared for a dragged out meeting but this was going beyond what I had anticipated.

---
---

Remus's first memories were the walls of the brothel his mother worked in, shortly followed by the memories of her being sold off and taken away.

He wasn't a half breed, the mixed progeny of his mother and a customer. Remus half remembers the stories his mother told him of his father. From her tales, he knew his father was a warrior of her clan who laid with her prior to a great battle with the legions.

His father lost, obviously. His mother was enslaved, brought to the red-light district, and there he was born.

When it became apparent that Remus was not going to be calmly enough to be used as he grew older, the Matron sold him to a slave auctioneer. He spent three weeks in the cramped cells before he was bought.

He had steeled himself for a fate of performing intimate acts with his new master. That was the life he had seen growing up and despite not being effeminate enough for the Matron, he was aware some men cared more for youthfulness than femininity. Not unreasonable, a dozen such slaves had been bought that same day destined for similar fates. Why would this be any different?

In hindsight, he wishes to all the Gods that there was a spell that could wipe his memory of that awkward first night. Master Rax's hasty clarifications of his actual duties as a scribe and record keeper came quickly and succinctly enough.

Baring that awkwardness, his life improved considerably. He was not destined to be some toy. He was to be literate, he was to learn numbers, he was even told that he would be able to buy his freedom at a later date. Remus was certain that his life could not conceivably get any better.

Until he met her.

A young girl with eyes like sapphires and hair of woven gold. Someone who treated him as an equal for the first time in his life. The Matron saw him as a slave, the other children as a filthy mutt, Master Rax ordered him about as a pupil and servant (not that he wasn't Master Rax's pupil and servant), but never as an equal.

He decided then and there he would work harder than anyone before him to earn his freedom and ask for her hand in marriage. With his skills, he was certain he would be able to provide for them!

When Master Rax laughed at his dream, he thought it was just his master thinking that this was some 'phase' and that he would get out of it in time. That a different girl would catch his eye in time.

Again, in hindsight, how could Remus have ever known that the girl who treated him with such kindness was in fact a Imperial princess and beyond him, free or otherwise?

When she ordered that he to be emancipated as part of the agreement for Master Rax working for her, he worried that he would forever be stuck in a life where he worried that he would forever be stuck in a life where he could never properly return his feelings to the one he cared about the most.

Thankfully, that did not happen. Though the flame he held for her highness still remains, it has cooled over the years. He still loves her, just not in such a childish way. Though he won't deny that he still does care for her.

Regardless, he will be glad to serve her for as long as she sees fit to the best of his abilities.

Even with his present company…

"Can you please stop that?" Remus looked up from his parchment to the bunny girl across from him. The albino had taken out one of her jagged looking knives and was tapping the tip against the metal arm of the chair.

Her highness, Master Rax, and the senators have been in their meeting for the last hour. The two of them waited in an adjacent sitting room in sight of the chamber's oaken doors. Remus busied himself with finishing his work.

Cordelia had taken it upon herself to annoy him.

"Stop what?" She replied not looking up, the tapping growing even faster now that he brought it up.

"The tapping thing, with the knife. It's annoying," he tried to keep his voice down as a pair of guards walked by them, shooting the pair of demi-humans a look over before continuing their patrol.

"They didn't seem bothered by it," Cordelia mused, glancing down the hall.

"They can't hear it," his ears twitched, knowing damn well she could hear her own taps as well thanks to their superior hearing.

"Then why are you complaining about it?"

"Because I do hear it," Ears twitched again, Remus took a deep breath to calm himself down, the act not going unnoticed by the bunny girl.

"Maybe you should learn to just deal with it," that smirk of hers was the last straw for a diplomatic resolution.

"What is your problem with me?" Remus finally asked the question he had been curious about since the first time the two met. She's always been abrasive to…everyone. The only one she interacted with that she didn't have an issue with was her highness, even then their interactions were marred by breaks of protocol that would make any other person lose their tongue.

"I don't have a problem with you," the tapping stopped, her blade chipping away at the paint on her chair. "I just hate you."

"Excuse me?" Did he hear her right?

"Did I stutter?" her bloody red orbs locked with his icy blue. "I said, ``I hate you. '' You can hear a tiny tapping sound but can't hear words spoken right to your face?"

"I- I mean, why do you hate me? I've never done anything to you," hate seemed like such a strong word to feel to someone who you interact with so little.

"You're like a beaten dog," she commented. "So scared of the master's whip that even without a collar you jump through every hoop they give you and are glad about it."

"I am not a slave," it was his turn to stand his ground.

"You don't have to be a slave to be a beaten dog," there was that word again. Sighing, the girl straightened herself and stood up. "Me and Tanya have an arrangement of convenience. She helps free my people from bondage, and I protect her so she can keep freeing my people from bondage."

"Please show her highness proper respect," he chastised, shocked with how casually she addressed her highness.

"Well, being nice doesn't really get this off me now does it?" pulling at her shirt's collar, her gilded collar shined as sunlight reflected off it.

"How could she ever trust you to be her guard," it was ridiculous for him to imagine her Highness being so blind as to trust this girl with her life. The rabbit was more likely to deal the killing blow herself!

"She's not some dainty flower that'll wilt at the slightest touch," she rolled her eyes at Remus's complaints. "You've seen her magic. She is more than capable of defending herself, I'm just here to make sure she doesn't die. Can't free my people if she's dead now can she?"

"Stop that! Stop acting like such a spiteful brat", there were other words he could have used, but none of them were right to describe Cordelia. Too soft.

"Or what?" She raised an eyebrow. "You'll go whine and complain to that eunuch of a wet nurse that I hurt your feelings?"

"No I'd-" before he could even make a comeback, his whole world spun around. When he finally got his bearings, he realized the rabbit girl was clenching his throat with one hand and pressing him against a wall.

The albino looked bored as Remus struggled to unclench her grip on his throat, tears rolling down his cheeks as her hold tightened. "Really? That's it? Can't even wrestle my fingers off with both your hands?"

He winced as he felt something sharp against his jugular.

"It wouldn't be hard," Cordelia lazily dragged her nail against his throat. "Just one, little, prick. Deep enough so the blood doesn't stop flowing, and you'll be dead in a matter of minutes. What do you say to that, you collared dog?"

"Y-"

The door to the meeting room opened up and Remus was sent sliding to the ground. He held his throat and gasped for air as the senators left her Highness's meeting along with their respective servants.

"-and I wish you a good day, your Highness," the larger of the two senators gave a short bow before walking off with his counterpart in tow. "I have to say, I never thought I would work beside one of Mithras's brood,"

"Then how about an ally?" the younger man offered.

Senator Stilicho let off a cantankerous laugh at Victrix's words. The half barbarian was beside himself with laughter, bracing himself against the wall as his raspy voice echoed through the halls and chambers. His counterpart was less amused by the situation.

"Oh, thank you senator," he patted the young man on his shoulder. "I needed some humor today. See you tomorrow, we have a lot of work ahead of us."

The young nobleman sighed at the antics of his senior, as he made his way out of the manse. "Of all the people I have to work with…". Tsking, Senator Victrix left soon after with his attendants in tow.

Following the pair soon after was Master Gaius, who looked at Remus before turning his attention to Cordelia.

"So shall I have to ask why you tried to strangle my protegee, or am I to pretend he tried to strangle himself?" Gaius questioned the bunny girl.

"Shouldn't you be more worried about where your cock is?" She cruelly questioned.

Rather than get upset, Master Rax smiled. "I must first profess that I am extremely honored that one as beautiful as yourself takes such an interest in the state of my pillar and stones."

Remus coughed into his hand to hold in his laughter as the girl's face twisted as if she had eaten a lemon.

"Second," his voice took on an edge Remus hardly ever heard. "You must realize that your current standards of living are only possible thanks to her highness's mercy. Remember, you are legally a slave, no matter what informal relationship you have with her highness. In the court of law, what do you think the punishment for a slave killing a freeman is? Specifically, a slave killing a freeman under the direct employment of the Imperial Household?"

"Is that a threat?"

"No, it's reality, though I understand the confusion. Children tend to confuse fantasy and reality because they don't know any better."

"You fucking-"

"Cordelia," her highness stood at the doorway to her meeting room, papers in hand, staring at both Master Rax and the albino before sighing. "We're going back to the Palace," she told the rabbit before turning to Gaius. "I need you to double check the notes made and have copies sent to the senators before the end of the week."

"Of course, your highness," Gaius accepted the documents handed over.

Her highness looked back to the bunny warrior, "Cordelia, we're-"

"Yeah, I heard the first time," the former-princess tried to shove Master Rax aside as she walked by him to catch up to her Highness who was already heading out the door.

The lone pair stood in silence for some time, before Master Rax sighed and finally looked at his student.

"So, what happened?"

"She said she hates me," the words left a bitter taste in Remus's mouth when he said them.

"No, she doesn't," his Master quipped back, making a note on the parchment.

"I- Master?" What was he saying? The slave girl tried to kill him!

"If she hated you, she wouldn't even talk to you and refuse to even sit in the same room as you. Remember the other noble ladies her highness brings over?" Gaius rationalized.

Now that he mentioned it, Remus couldn't actually remember a time when she was in the room with the other young noble ladies. Though he thought it was just her doing her 'guard duty' thing and staying by the door. Then again, she spoke a word to them or even looked in their general direction…

"Then why?" that was the real question at hand.

"She's frustrated," Master Rax explained, dipping his quill in the inkpot. "Of her fate in life. Of the condition of her aunt, her former queen. Of the state of her people. And importantly, with herself. She's powerless and has to serve the family of the one who conquered and enslaved her people. If she wasn't perturbed by this turn of events something would be very wrong with her."

"I guess it makes sense that way," Remus commented, understanding but still annoyed by Cordelia's behavior. He has lonely known the life of a slave, with freedom being a wholly new concept for him. She was a princess who was made a slave. If their places were swapped, he wonders if he would be just as aggressive as she is.

"Well, there is one other reason I can think of that could also be the cause," Master Rax scratched his chin as he mused to himself. "Now I might be mistaken, but I remember reading that bunny warriors tend to take any man they can get their hands on for mating purposes, but show great preference to those who can best them in combat. Given who her highness is, constantly defeating her in duels, and her relation to the man who conquered and enslaved her people, it can be a very awkward situation."

"Best them in…wait…really? She's acting like that because her body is frustrated, she's being beaten by the sister of the man who enslaved her and not a regular man?" Could it really be that simple? Nature clashing with the environment?

Master Rax coughed into his hand in a mix between a laugh and a choking sound. Almost dropping his implements as he struggled to right himself, ending up against a pillar for support. It took the eunuch several seconds to regain his composure.

"Ah…ahh…boy…I think I may have to go over certain…subjects with you again in the near future," he was careful in his words to the wolfkin as he gestured for Remus to follow.

Remus shrugged at his master's overreaction. Over the years he has gotten used to his teacher's eccentricities, but he was still surprised by them from time to time. Good man as he was, Remus still had to shake his head at the silliness from time to time.

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"You know I don't like you being out this late."

"Mom, I am fine! We're just going to the mall," Maki rolled her eyes at her mom's complaints.

"You say that as if something couldn't happen to all of you," she could almost feel her mom raising an eyebrow over the phone. Scary power.

"Mom, I will be fine," how many times was she going to have to say this. It wasn't like she was some kid anymore. She was sixteen! "We're just going to the mall, we're going to have dinner, see that new karaoke place, and maybe spend some time at the arcade, that's it."

Her mom was silent on her end for a moment, then a sigh. "Alright…alright. Just come home before midnight alright."

Maki pumped her fist into the air, probably startling the couple that walked by her. "Yes! Before midnight, I got it. Thanks mom! Love you! Say hi to dad for me." She ended the call before her mother replied, already knowing what she'd say.

No matter how much she loved her, Maki wished her mom would stop coddling her. She had great grades, just passed her history exams, and she just wanted to hang out with her friends for a few hours. It was a Saturday anyway, she could make up for lost sleep tomorrow. Heaving her backpack up, she rushed through the crowds to meet up with her friends.

Yet halfway to the mall, walking through the dark illuminated streets of Ginza, a single person in a crowd of thousands, Maki felt something off. A gust of wind, billowing out of an alleyway just out of view. Push her long hair out of its 'perfect' alignment. Grumbling as she moved the stray strands back into place, she looked to see what manner of giant fan did that.

But in the alleyway there was no fan, but a single person. Away from the hustle and bustle of the main street was a person. A man.

A cosplayer if what she saw was right.

Dressed up in some western looking armor, but none of it looked like the stuff from the anime she watched or the games she played. It looked shiny enough, had a prop short sword on his waist, but he was wearing some sort of fur hat on his head that kind of messed with the whole 'knight' thing he might have had going for him.

He looked around the alley confused, not noticing her. It was like he was lost. Maybe worried about what people would think of him if he walked around dressed like that?

"Hey, are you okay?" She asked the confused cosplayer. He turned to her but didn't reply. Now that she got a good look from the back light of a store, he did look foreign. Ah! Damn it Maki! Maybe he didn't understand her.

Well, that's why she goes to English class!

"ah…Excuse me mister…are you...lost?" In the words of her teacher, her pronunciation was passable. Maki repeated the question again, worried that her own poor wording might be confusing him.

The man stood there for a few more seconds before approaching her, quickly. A fast walk. She noticed from the sounds of his footsteps that he wasn't wearing normal shoes, just some sandal looking things.

"Ah yes…apologies for…can only speak some English…okay?" Maki fished out her cellphone and quickly pulled up a basic translator online. Machine translation wasn't the most accurate at times, but it could allow her to communicate with him a bit more clearly if the words were written out.

Turning a bit to the side to show her new written message, haphazardly translated, the man grabs her by the arm and throws her to the ground. Her phone slid across the ground, its screen still displaying her message: "Are you lost?"

As Maki hit the ground, she only had moments to realize that the cosplayer's weapons and armor were real, and not shiny plastic, from all the clinking they made as the man moved. Within seconds, she was dragged by the ankle into the alley. Once she got her bearings, she screamed as loud as she could, hoping that anyone would save her from this kidnapper. Her nails cracked against the pavement as she tried to kick and squirm out of his grasp.

If she could just get to her phone-

In a split second, everything seemed to change. The ground was no longer concrete, but grass. Real grass, not that artificial stuff. The sky that was devoid of stars was now blazon with the lights beyond counting. The sounds of the city vanished in an instant, replaced with laughter in a language she didn't know and the cries of others she did understand.

Around her, past the campfires had sprung up from nowhere in a space that didn't exist seconds ago. To her eye, she saw she was not alone. There were other people, victims, here. Some crying, others begging to go home. No fewer than twenty were chained and collared like cattle along the edges of the campfire's lights, seemingly separated by gender.

The men looked battered and beaten, the ones Maki got a good look at where a salaryman had his eyes swollen shut and a boy her age curled up on the ground whimpering wearing a school uniform she didn't recognize.

But the sight of the girls...

Maki screamed again and renewed her struggle. Her actions got the attention from the rest of the 'cosplayers', joking and hollering at her. She didn't need to know the language to tell when she was being mocked. Apparently, her actions annoyed her captor, who stopped just long enough to stomp on her stomach to shut her up.

She coughed and whimpered as she was dragged to a stake in the ground with several women already chained to it. As the cold steel clamped around her neck, everything of value was stolen from her person. Just like the others.

Humming to himself, the abductor tied her to a post, gave her one more kick to the gut, then joined his friends by the campfires.

Left alone with other girls who were equally scared, Maki curled up and cried for the rest of the night. She whimpered to herself that this was just a nightmare. That she had just fallen asleep and would wake up in her bed and everything would be fine.

She would turn out to be right and wrong.

This wasn't a dream, but it was the start of a living nightmare.