They were back at the term-party.
Watson, after a lot of assurance that it wouldn't be fatal, had agreed to face Mark and apologize. And even though it had been Alexandra who had given the guarantee, she herself wasn't sure if Watson was altogether safe. Fannel could do wicked things with a dagger. Lethal, unfathomable and irreparable things.
They decided to undertake the mission only after at least half the members had left. That was Kane's idea: he always gave good ones. And he had also shouldered the commentary on the event. An event, during which a lot of thrill could be expected. As they watched a few more fifth-years wave to Kane and leave, Alexandra nudged Watson.
'Go!' She told him, in a hiss. Hans nodded, unblinking, as if he still couldn't believe that Watson was going to do something as deadly.
'Give me your condolences - er - your encouragements.' Watson replied, stiffly getting up and taking a step towards Mark Fannel, who seemed to be surrounded by a glowing aura of hostility. Alexandra gave him a push.
'Go!' She repeated, frowning. 'He won't eat you.'
'He can,' Paul informed, tilting his head to the side unapologetically. 'No wo-' but he stopped upon receiving a kick on the shin by Alexandra. Meanwhile, Watson trudged over to Fannel. For a minute, he hesitated, opening his mouth and closing it for at least a dozen times. Then Kane threw an Olive at him, hissing, hurry. Alexandra nodded in approval, an Olive on the head a day, kept all hesitation away.
'I'm - uh - sorry,' Watson managed, blurting the words hurriedly. He might have gone red but Alexandra couldn't confirm it in the partial darkness of the party hall.
'What?' Asked Fannel, looking up from the letter he'd been reading. The perfect, nail-biting moment. Mark frowned, Watson gulped and shot them a terrified look.
'Looks like Fannel's going to pretend he doesn't know anything...' Kane ventured in the background, starting his description of the events. 'Things are getting complex, fellow Agents.'
'I'm so-ory,' Watson repeated, not looking into anybody's eyes, staring down and shuffling.
'There, that was the second try by Watson - let's see if it bears any fruit.' Kane continued. Fannel looked exasperatedly in his direction. Kane greeted him with a warm grin and mouthed, go on, do your work, let me do mine. Fannel shook his head and then,
'For what?' He asked Watson.
'Did you hear that, Agents? Mark wants to get this thing dirtier!'
'I want to get it straighter, Kane.' Fannel clarified, interlocking fingers together and staring at Watson, whose ears had now gone visibly red, despite the dark.
'Whatever that maybe - straighter or dirtier - this will be a good time for Watson to back off.' Kane maintained, sitting down on one of the tables and gazing interestedly at the duo. Alexandra pushed herself up, beside him, and put a hand to her chin. It felt like a continuation of the reporting of the dueling tournament they had done, earlier in the day.
'For - for what I said that day.' Watson continued, now visibly redder than a cherry - in the whole face.
'Watson's avoiding the question,' Kane hissed.
'What did you say?' Asked Fannel, ignoring the commentator.
'Fannel won't let him avoid it! This is getting interesting, men!'
'And women!' Alexandra scowled at him.
'Oh fine. Mean men and wicked woman.' Kane ceded. Alexandra gave an unimpressed stare, which was duly returned.
'I - don't want to repeat it,' Watson mumbled.
'That was a good move by Watson there, let's see what Fannel's got to parry it with.' Kane interjected.
'Then why did you say it in the first place? When you know it's lowly?' Fannel asked, their eyes clashing. Alexandra hoped they weren't going to launch into a duel. Maybe Kane would succeed in separating them, but if only Mark approved of Watson, everything would be sunnier.
'Fannel's the spider, who's not going to release Watson the fly anytime soon. That is - unless we have an interruption - oh, and there she goes,' Kane almost sounded disappointed that Alexandra had chosen to intervene, like the fun was over. Nevertheless, she slid down the table and straightened her cloak, walking over to the entangled men.
'Brother - Fannel - Sir, whatever.' She said, not knowing what the best way to start would be - which side of Mark would be best to appeal to. 'He's really apologizing,' she pressed, 'why don't we, like - make a fresh start? With everyone together - and no rivalries?'
Kane didn't have anything to comment on this. It was good for him, because Alexandra didn't like interruptions - not from anybody.
'Yes, I don't apologize everyday you know.' Watson added, helpfully.
'If you make mistakes and misbehave everyday, you should learn to apologize everyday as well,' Fannel enlightened. Then he looked at Alexandra in an I'm doing this only for you way. 'Anyhow,' he then continued, turning to Watson, 'let's make a real fresh start - and try not to hate each other so obviously,'
'That doesn't sound inviting,' Kane noted, finally trusting himself to speak. 'A calculated move, worthy of a spy! Let us see how far this goes, men-' He was about to stop there, but caught Alexandra's eye and hurriedly added. 'men - and lady!'
'Very good,' She nodded to him. 'Come on, you two - shake hands.'
'What?' Asked Fannel, 'that is a bit too too muc- oh fine!' He relented, looking at Alexandra's dark expression.
'You too, Elf!' She said, turning to him.
'Tempting,' Watson mouthed. But they shook hands. Alexandra wiped her cheeks, sniffing, as though she was brushing off tears -displaying the proficient acting skills that spies needed.
'There you go, Agents! The biggest alliance of all times, the end of the finest rivalry our generation will ever get to see! Before you stand - er, one stands, the other sits - anyhow, before you are the two great members of The Espionage Council, they have a long history of clashes and wars! In the end we have a treaty signed and a hundred-week war ended!'
'Kane, you are overusing your voice,' Alexandra informed, going back to sit beside him. She was pleasantly surprised to find herself coming up to his jaw. And besides everything she said, it was enjoyable listening to his banter. The type of man who didn't speak at all, but when he did, he wouldn't stop easily: and wouldn't run out of words either. It was good that he was using his talent. If not a spy, perhaps Kane would have been a diplomat - much like Alexandra.
'You overuse your brain everyday, found me complaining?' He replied. Then turned to holler a retort at a fellow fifth year, regarding their next day's schedule, in the thickest Idgardian accent Alexandra had heard so far.
'Nice one,' she grinned, stretching her legs.
'If I've said it, it's got to be nice,'
'Another nice one,'
'Stop that loop before I throw you out.' He threatened, smiling. One of the best parts about being spies: mad things didn't seem so mad anymore.
'Come on, with me gone you'll be sitting all quiet and calm,' Alexandra replied, calmly. It was true, she was quite proud to say that she was one of the very few people whom Kane really talked to. Commentator and everything, but he was a reserved fellow. She was now slightly worried that if the people here every found out how she was an exiled princess - that she was not Mabel - what would they do ... would they ever believe her again?
Especially Kane, if that man found out the junior whom he'd taught law to and commentated on the wrestling tournaments with for the past two years, was actually a princess, a murderer, a criminal, would he even talk to her ever again?
You're not a murder, Alexandra. Liam's voice passed through her as if on cue, two slaps cannot kill anybody.
But there were exceptions - Nicholas was an exception. It was the plain, bitter truth. Even if Alexandra believed he wasn't dead, she could do nothing to prove it. As Master George had said, the law demanded proof - swift, solid and inflexible.
Maybe she could get proof - but she would have to go to Doveland for that. And Alexandra would be executed if she was found in there, so a fat lot of good that would do her.
Besides, she didn't want to prove anything anymore. She felt happy in Idgard. If it was proved that Nicholas was alive, she would be taken back to Doveland - forced into the prison-like Palace. No, that was a black prospect - especially now that Austin was the King. Soon enough, he would be married and a sister-in-law meant heavy palace politics. Life was better simple.
The final argument against Doveland: seventeen years in it had given her no goal in life. A month in Idgard - boom! Alexandra almost felt she'd been born. So far, in Doveland - she was developing. Gathering up the energy, the resources, the courage. And as soon as she was ready, she had been flung into the real world - where she had a true identity. She'd been flung into Idgard.
Doveland mattered. Idgard mattered more.
'By the way, Mabel,' Kane's voice began, breaking her reverie.
'Yes?' She asked, turning to him. The Hall was quieter and emptier than she'd ever seen it. Only two or three people apart from them, were present. And they too, could leave anytime. Fannel had left, giving her a pat on the shoulder and a morose "'night".
'Are you Dovish?' He asked, in lower than a whisper.
Alexandra's eyes widened in anxiety. Why was he asking that, all of a sudden? Had something given her identity away? 'Ye - why?' She asked, moving backwards.
'Your accent is Dovish.' He informed, 'thick Dovish.' He repeated, 'I realized just now, when I heard my own self speak.'
She exhaled, relieved. Being a Dovish was not a crime - yes, she was. 'I am.' She nodded, 'Dovish of name, Idgardian of heart. Does it change anything?' She asked. It was true question, did it change anything? The way they saw her, the way she saw them - or the amount of trust that was put into her? Did it influence all of that?'
Kane stared at her for a second, his light blue eyes moving just the tiniest of bit. Hopefully, he was not connecting the dots. Hopefully, he didn't know - and he wouldn't know. 'No.' He finally said. 'It does not change anything.'