Lady Amethyst ja'Redran was not actually afraid of the glaring violet gaze of the White Prince, though she did have to admit, it unsettled her quite deeply. She had to wonder why on Nemesis she had been brought here, before Prince Dimando himself. She had only met him on several, far more formal occasions, and certainly never alone.

She furrowed her brow, which was free of any House's insignia. Amethyst's family had never been one for clans or the like. She pulled her eyes up to meet his, wincing as she did so. He did not appear happy. Not in the slightest.

As he stared at her piercingly, the wintry timbre of the sovereign's voice chilled her to the bone. "I asked you a question, Amethyst."

She resisted the temptation to wrap her arms around herself and shiver. The words had been like a frigid blast of air, and she again wondered just how she was to answer such a question. Her deep emerald eyes were troubled as she ran a small hand through the shoulder length violet hair falling loosely about her shoulders. "Why, I don't know. I haven't seen His Highness in some time, Your Serene Highness."

Dimando closed his eyes for a second, almost as if he were in pain, Amethyst noted with only a touch of surprise. Obviously, the whereabouts of his much adored little brother was severely distressing him, though he seemed to be trying to conceal it with an outer facade of self-righteous anger. "Are you sure?"

Amethyst nodded her head faintly, shuffling her hidden feet as she did so. She was dressed in her characteristic robes of state, which she wore as Administrator of the Archives of Breccia University. This duty was what gave her unusual honorific name -- typically, she should have been called Amethyst re'Padparadscha. Admittedly, she hadn't been sorry to shake off that cumbersome title, though in doing so, she mildly spoke against her father's honour. The ja'Redran was a title given to her by the duties she had had bestowed upon her.

Dimando's much-whispered about recent swings of temper meant that she didn't really want to carry on this conversation, but she added quietly, "Your honoured brother spoke to me last some days ago, when he asked me to keep an eye on the energy absorption indicator of the jakokuzuishou, Your Serene Highness."

Dimando's eyes, which had been turned towards the floor in contemplation, suddenly shot up. The Lady was shocked to see both anger and worry written there -- with a degree of genuine fear. "He did what?!"

"I told him it was a bad idea, given my all-consuming duties as Archive Director, but he assured me-"

"This is not good," Dimando broke in suddenly, standing up from his throne. His eyes raked over the crystal's indicator in his Presence Chamber, both alarmed and confused. "Why would he do that...? Otootochan... what are you doing?"

� � �

At that particular moment in time, Saffir was wishing he had just left the touchy woman to her own devices back on Nemesis. He had no idea how this flamingo-up had occurred, but still... it was partly his own fault that they were in this smegging mess. (Note: A "flamingo-up" is similar to a cock-up, only much much WORSE.)

After regarding them silently for a moment with a stare nothing short of polar, the silver-haired king had opened a portal in the outer waiting room where he had lead them, and offered them passage through it. Esmeraude had instantly bestowed a resplendent smile upon the man -- who neither looked impressed nor in any way perturbed by that smile -- and passed through it. However, the innuendoes in it were not lost on the observing Zoisite. Saffir had caught his glare easily enough.

"Prince Saffir-sama?" the man had asked quietly in his deep voice, and though there was no obvious threat in the voice, Saffir took it as one. From what he could remember of the silver-haired king in the literature Amethyst Ja'Redran had found for him back on Nemesis, he was one to be watched. One could never tell just what direction his temper would swing in next, or whether he would become violent or languidly insulting. He was an enigma.

However... Amethyst. He could only hope she was doing as promised, and keeping at least a vague eye on the jakokuzuishou and the Wiseman, as she had pledged to do. The girl, two years younger than Saffir, could not exactly be called a friend, however... she was as trustworthy as could be expected, given they lived on Nemesis, notorious for its distinctive style of back-stabbing, brother against brother politics. She had always been around, though, as long as he could remember. She held the same position as her father had before her, and his father before him, and his father before him. She knew her way around the archives even better than he did, but on reflection, it was not that odd. After all, she practically lived in there.

Except now, the greater underwing was closed, even to her. She was left with only the many other numerous wings to look after.

"Yes, Kunzite-sama?" he asked carefully, noting with some surprise that during his brief contemplation of the situation back on Nemesis, Zoisite had silently descended from his aerial perch to stand at the elder king's side. His short stature was accentuated by the height of his companion, but he still had an aura about him that disturbed Saffir greatly.

"Would you care to follow your companion through the gate?"

He regarded it for a second. "Forgive me, but where does it lead?"

"To my home," he replied emotionlessly, silence falling across the outer waiting chamber of the throne room once more. "There is no need to be concerned, prince."

Biting back a reply, Saffir took a mild breath, and moved through the gate.

� � �

Esmeraude was irritated now, but she hid it fairly well. She had been forced to wait here for the better part of two minutes -- alone. She sniffed at the absurdity of it all. Where was the Lord General, not to mention her baka companion? What was taking them so long? Surely, the quiescent General would be more intrigued by her than the annoyingly quick-minded physicist. However, she had to grudgingly admit that Saffir had made rather a good showing recently. She never would have thought up half the crap he had been spouting off to that woman seated atop the dais.

Her thoughts broke off as Saffir stepped through the still open doorway, looking surprisingly downcast as he did so. He was swiftly followed by the diminutive man she had offended earlier, and then the Lord General soundlessly strode into the room, the gate disappearing with a single flick of his gloved left hand.

Esmeraude tried to ignore the pernicious stare of the man with the long, beautiful copper-blonde hair, and instead, turned her eyes on the tall, silent man. "So, you are our host, Lord Kunzite-sama?" She frowned slightly as she flicked her fan in the direction of Zoisite. "So, what's he doing here?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Saffir burying his face in his right, gloved hand. Ignoring the gesture, she batted her eyelashes at the unmoving general, awaiting an answer.

Zoisite moved to snap back a suitably acidic reply, but a swiftly raised hand from Kunzite stopped the younger man. "Zoisite can be here if he so desires, Esmeraude-san."

"Oh," replied Esmeraude, slightly shocked by the stillness and inherent coldness of the reply. Perhaps because she had nothing more substantial to say to that, she continued with; "That's nice."

Ignoring Esmeraude, Kunzite turned to Saffir, and she sighed at the way his long shower of moonlight coloured hair swung over his wide shoulders as he did so. Maybe when she got out of this godforsaken Hellhole, she would try to convince Dimando-sama to grow his beautiful hair out, too...

So dreamy was she, she didn't notice the growing intensity of Zoisite's malicious emerald glare.

Saffir was also unable to notice the warning in Zoisite's glare, because he was too busy trying to correlate his thoughts around the ominous presence of the silver king.

"Prince Saffir-sama," he intoned dryly, raking piercingly argent eyes over the young man. The gaze made him feel uncomfortable, he was being looked over like a prize greyhound. The feeling was not one he enjoyed, but the nature of the look was not unfamiliar to him, though he had never been on the receiving end of it before. The coldness and business-like formality of the look was similar to the way Dimando-oniisan occasionally looked over his lesser subjects. "You shall be staying in the westernmost chambers, down this hallway here." He was pointing in the western direction, and Saffir swallowed slightly. "As for your companion -- would you prefer to share chambers?"

Saffir almost choked. Esmeraude turned an interesting shade of flushed red and spluttered, "Most certainly not, Lord Kunzite-sama!"

A low chuckle escaped the smaller man's throat, from where he stood in the shadows of the large foyer of what Saffir assumed to be the second floor of Kunzite's home. The contrast of light and dark gave Zoisite an unsettlingly dangerous look, as he continued. "It appears you have misjudged them, Kunzite-sama."

All that earned him was a long, cool glare from the general, and Saffir noted the way Zoisite visibly wilted underneath that glare. Esmeraude, however, was too engrossed in staring lasciviously at the general to notice the relationship between the two kings. Saffir was mildly disgusted -- he suspected Kunzite was going to have to get a youma in here soon. To mop up Esmeraude's drool, that was.

Turning back to his guests, he simultaneously opened two dark gates, and indicated the right hand one. "I take it you would both like to rest, after your journey?" Saffir could only nod mutely, while Esmeraude's eyes sparkled at the thought of how she could relax with the silver-haired general. "Esmeraude-san, this leads to your chambers, which are near to the prince's," -- even though he emphasised the title, Saffir couldn't read the emotion behind it -- "though they are suitably far enough from his, so that you will not... run into one another."

Esmeraude cast the blue-haired young man a look, and he was suddenly shocked, as he looked up from his shoes. She looked almost loathe to leave him. She almost seemed to ask him to accompany her with her eyes, and he shook his head faintly. "Saffir, I shall want to speak with you later," she said imperiously, though he caught a faint quaver of worry in her words. Then her demeanour changed entirely as she cast a last longing look at the towering man. "And Lord Kunzite-sama, I should very much like to speak with you, too."

"It would be a pleasure," he remarked dryly, and watched Esmeraude sashay off with an unreadable expression, though Zoisite's wrathfully jealous glare was simple enough to discern.

Saffir felt the two pairs of eyes then turn to him, and unnerved, he had to briefly close his eyes, as if to steady himself. He could feel the steady throb of a headache beginning at his temples.

"Your rooms are through here," Kunzite said in a deceptively soft voice, indicating the second portal, the only one remaining.

"That is very kind of you, Lord Kunzite-sama," Saffir remarked gently, before moving through the gateway. It closed but a second later.

The two generals remained staring at the empty air for a few moments. Zoisite was itching to speak, to ask his elder companion on his opinions of the two so-called "emissaries" of the moon called Nemesis. However, he could sense the undercurrent of his unwillingness to discuss the subject in Kunzite's stance. It was proven but a moment later when Kunzite turned to the smaller man, his cape swirling as he did so. "Zoisite, I am going to my laboratory for a few hours. Our guests shouldn't be a problem, but amuse them if they try to cause any trouble, won't you? And it would be pleasing if you would ensure that the two remain... separate. For the time being."

"Of course, Kunzite-sama," he replied dutifully. He would have left it there, if not for his inherent curiosity. "Can I ask why?"

"No," replied Kunzite shortly, and he turned to leave. To Zoisite's shock, he suddenly turned back, catching his chin with one gloved hand. Pulling it upwards so that Zoisite had no choice but to look directly into his argent eyes, he said softly; "Zoisite, can you just not trust me on this, and do as I say? I promise you, it will all become clearer to you at a later time. Do you understand?"

The younger man, slightly trembling beneath his touch, nodded as best he could, not removing his eyes from Kunzite's. "Hai, Kunzite-sama..."

"Good," Kunzite stated smoothly, before leaning in slightly to brush a gentle kiss over the younger man's lips. He then let him go, vanishing in his own transport a second later.

Sighing, Zoisite stared up the western hallway, contemplating his choices. Even though he still had a bone of contention to pick with that green-haired tart, he had found the blue-haired man much more interesting. He couldn't put a point on it, but he suspected it had been the way he had handled the old dragon with such surprising ease. Yes, the young man's political savvy, even though it was slightly stilted and obviously untutored, was an interest to the other young man. He'd like to know where he had learnt it from.

� � �

Lying on the soft silk of the duvet, Saffir pressed his fingers to his temples again, a low moan escaping his constricted throat. All of a sudden, the distressing absurdity of the situation had struck him, and he wasn't liking it. He wasn't liking it at all. The concentration required to keep on lying, to keep thinking about how to deal with people was honestly draining him. Quite abruptly, all he desired was his beloved, logical numbers, numbers that couldn't change their nature, that were always so reassuringly sane. Not like people, who could convert so swiftly, without warning nor reason.

No, that wasn't entirely true. Saffir wanted something else, something else to assuage the dull ache in his heart. He wanted--

Dimando was sometimes amused to see the attachment his younger brother held for him, and occasionally, Saffir wondered if Dimando knew just how much he meant to him. Most assuredly, Saffir knew how much Dimando meant to him, he doubted if he could love his brother more than he already did.

A long, melancholy sigh escaped his chest as he opened his eyes to stare blankly at the ceiling, trying to dispel the tears that threatened to build up at the back of his eyes. Saffir rarely cried, if ever -- however, he was tired, homesick and just so damned afflicted by Esmeraude's presence, it was hard to fight them back. Plus, on top of all this, he just missed his brother so much, it was unbearable. He and Dimando had never really been separated in their lives, and even if Saffir had succeeded in going back with Esmeraude to the right timeframe, he would have been able to talk to Dimando at will. Not now, though. Not with the timespaces held firmly under Sailor Pluto's watchful, wrathful cerise gaze.

The possibility that he might never see his cherished oniisan again was enough to make him descend into a pitfall of immeasurable depression.

Closing his eyes again, a shaking sigh broke the silence of the room, and he bit his trembling lip. He wasn't even aware of the new presence in the room until it spoke.

"Is there something wrong, Prince Saffir-sama?"

He bolted upright instantly, turning shocked eyes on the figure regarding him from where he lounged in one of the large chairs decorating the room. "Zoisite-san?"

"Correct," he replied languidly, twisting a strand of his remarkable hair about one finger. "I hope you don't mind me intruding. You don't look too well, if you don't mind my saying so."

"I am fine," replied Saffir, perhaps a tad sharply. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought I might get to know you better," he said silkily, a light smile playing at his lips. "You certainly strike me as being a very -- intelligent person."

"Arigatoo," he replied, not without a degree of suspicion.

Zoisite smiled again, wider this time. "So, you are a prince, Saffir-sama?"

"Underneath my elder brother, yes," he replied cautiously, realising that Zoisite was carefully trying to catch him off-guard, to pry more information out of him than he was actually willing to give. Saffir almost groaned out loud -- he had been hoping to get away from lying, even if it was for only a few hours. For not the first time, all he suddenly wanted was a nice stack of deliciously complicated mathematical problems. They would be a damn sight easier to deal with than this complex persona seated before him. "The White Prince is the one who essentially runs things. I am a mere advisor and councillor, at best."

Zoisite was eyeing him with trained suspicion, one that Saffir had suspected had been there from birth. He tried to ignore it for about a second -- then he realised who he was ignoring. Zoisite. The notoriously vain little sakura who would kill for even a vaguely disparaging comment on his hair, his stature, or his aim. The last was usually disproved in a variety of ways. "So -- what is it that you do exactly, Saffir-san?" asked Zoisite quietly, and Saffir caught the warning in the low, mellifluous tones.

With a sigh, he decided that replying quietly and efficiently would probably help him to live longer. "I am a physicist, by nature."

"A physicist," said Zoisite, slowly and distinctively. "A physicist --" A long, drawn-out sigh followed the words. "There goes the neighbourhood..."

Trying to ignore the throbbing behind his eyes, Saffir smiled wearily. "Is that so?"

Zoisite disregarded the comment, turning to another subject. "So, you are from Nemesis -- just where is this Nemesis?"

"Somewhere I'm sure that you do not know about," Saffir replied carefully, as if he were treading hot coals.

His caution was not entirely unwarranted, for Zoisite's emerald eyes suddenly flashed with anger. "Try me."

Shaking his head, the blue-haired physicist declined to take up the challenge, leaving Zoisite to ask another question. "You are an emissary for your elder brother?" At his nod, Zoisite swept on. "Are you quite close to him, or does your White Prince quite often shunt you off to other kingdoms to get you out of his hair?"

The remark could easily have been taken as an insult. However, Saffir was too tired to face a confrontation. He doubted he would have wanted to even if he had been feeling one hundred percent -- arguments were generally something he tried to avoid. "My brother and I are as close as two such siblings can be -- and let me assure you, should something... untoward happen to me, my brother would not rest without taking blood in repayment for his own."

Zoisite nodded languidly at the remark, and though he seemed careless on the outside, inside he was worried. Something about the strange young man unsettled him. Like a career mathematician winning a Pulitzer, it didn't sit right. It was possible, but still... and the thought of the self-confessed physicist acting as a foreign diplomat...

Zoisite personally couldn't comprehend the logic behind it, aside from the fact Saffir was the Prince's brother. However, the other woman's use was still a complete enigma to him. Then there was the man's slight warning, about his brother's readiness to seek vengeance should something happen to him.

Swallowing heavily, Saffir stood with a good degree of difficulty. He hadn't realised how tired he really was -- he had thought earlier a brief lie-down would help. However, his energy levels were remarkably low, his head was swimming, and a dull ache in his stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten in some time.

"Where are you going?" Zoisite asked with a tinge of worry, a great deal of misgiving colouring his words.

Saffir rubbed his eyes with his gloved hands, before turning them back on the still-seated young man. Zoisite noted for the first time the troubled shadows in the dusky blue of the prince's eyes, the way these same eyes were red-rimmed and weary.

"I am going to see Esmeraude," he replied, the tone harassed.

"That would be a very bad idea," Zoisite replied flatly.

Not in the mood to argue, Saffir simply opened a gateway of his own, something he did very rarely. A practical creature by nature, Saffir typically walked everywhere -- magic was something he had a vague distaste for, though he never really admitted it to anyone. However, he had opened this gateway to Esmeraude's rooms easily enough. Even though he had never been there, he had been able to do it because he had noted the co-ordinates earlier, when Kunzite had opened a similar gate.

"I would ask you politely not to go and disturb your friend," Zoisite said ominously, and Saffir almost cringed. If there was anything else he was not in the mood to do, it was tick off the irascible "sakura."

"You don't know what you're asking," he replied softly, before stepping through the portal.

Zoisite watched with annoyance as it swirled shut behind the slender man's disappearing form, then cursed roundly. Kunzite was not going to be pleased. Not pleased at all.

� � �

"Antares and Betelgeuse and Proxima Centauri and Sirius and - "

"Won't you please pardon my intrusion, Nephrite-sama?" came Zoisite's unmistakable ingenuous drawl.

Nephrite, whose nerves had already been frazzled and whose temper had not been helped by a particularly fine vintage of Falernian wine, screamed in pure frustration and fury that the universe would just not leave him alone.

"Oh, son-of-a-BITCH!" He took a deep breath, then turned, slowly, to face Zoisite.

The little rodent looked actually shocked. Evidently Zoisite hadn't expected him to be quite so high-strung. The smallest general regarded him with huge, almost scared eyes of a shimmering jade.

"Nephrite-sama - ?" Zoisite began.

Nephrite cut him off, quite politely. "One moment, Zoisite. Would you please hand me that cushion, there by your hand?"

Mystified, but quite certain that not even a sober Nephrite could possibly harm him with a couch-cushion, the lovely young sakura handed Nephrite the indicated purple pillow.

Nephrite took it, regarded it malevolently while imagining on it the faces of Beryl, Kunzite, Zoisite, Saffir, and most especially that spike-heeled bitch Esmeraude.

Then he wound up and drop-kicked it into the very center of his star-chart. He felt better almost immediately.

The star-chart vanished, and Nephrite's study brightened up. The auburn-haired general, looking markedly more cheerful, turned to Zoisite and said calmly, "May I help you, Zoisite-san?"

Still looking at him askance, Zoisite said, "As a matter of fact, you may, Nephrite. I would like to have your assistance as regards the Black Moon emissaries."

"No," Nephrite said, still pleasantly. "Now scram."

Zoisite stiffened. After he'd swallowed his pride and deliberately tried to be nice, too. It just went to show that it simply didn't pay to follow Kunzaito-sama's orders and even attempt to get along with Nephrite. "Nephrite-sama," he said, his voice losing its silky sweetness, acquiring a razor's edge, "Kunzite's orders were to keep them separated, and Saffir deliberately went to Esmeraude's chambers, and - "

Nephrite guffawed. "You want my help because Saffir's sneaked off to his lady's chamber?" The auburn-haired King snickered again. "Zoisite, you're an idiot."

The sakura hissed through his teeth. Then he said, "Nephrite-sama, if you don't help me separate the two before they can decide what to do next, I'll tell Kunzite-sama that you planned it all personally and are a traitor giving them vital information about the Dark Kingdom."

"No one will believe that," Nephrite said coldly.

Zoisite smiled charmingly. "Kunzaito-sama will," he chirped. "And even if he bothers to investigate you, Nephrite-sama, I'm sure there are certain things you don't wish for Kunzite or Beryl to know, quite aside from any treason."

Nephrite eyed the little rodent poisonously. Even if Kunzite accepted Zoisite's accusation with a grain of salt, Zoisite was perfectly capable and willing to plant information in his personal effects. "Dammit," he muttered. He threw up his hands in surrender. "Fine. What do you need me to do?"

"I'm SO glad you asked!" Zoisite said joyously. The little sakura's eyes lit up. "First, Neffy, I need you to come with me into Esmeraude-san's chambers, and drag Saffir off somewhere and entertain him. Ply him with liquor, or whatever it is you do with your dates."

"I'm not gay," Nephrite hissed.

"But he's so cute," Zoisite needled him. "What's the matter, Neffy, don't you think you could win him with your virile masculinity and absolutely irresistable charm? Oh, I'm sorry - it does appear that Kunzaito-sama and I have a monopoly on both qualities around here."

Nephrite closed his eyes and counted to thirty-six in Hindustani, which he had had occasion to learn when he'd been tracking down that rare wine a few years ago. Then he opened his eyes and spoke in a monotone. "I will take Saffir-san elsewhere. I consider this quite enough for what you've deigned to tell me."

"Oh, no," said Zoisite chidingly. The golden-haired King giggled, and said, "And then I need you to draw out Saffir about his mission. Ask him about his brother, the so-called White Prince. Get something out of him. Kunzaito-sama wants to know aaaaaaaaaall about these two." Zoisite was making all of this up as he went along, of course, but he expected that no one as stupid and rude as Nephrite could possibly know the difference.

"I don't expect to be in Saffir's company long enough to 'draw him out,'" Nephrite said freezingly. He glared at the tiny King with slitted eyes of azurean ice. "I will, of course, remember this small favor which I shall render you, Zoisite. And I will expect that you will do me a favor of equal value. Such as not telling tales to your beloved sensei."

Zoisite yawned daintily, secure in the knowledge that when push came to shove Kunzite would believe him above Nephrite. "Oh, very well," he said, sweetly fluttering his eyelashes at the other. "Thank you SO much for taking this small matter off my hands. Shall we go?"

"Might as well get it over with," Nephrite muttered.

They vanished.

� � �

Dimando entered the chamber of the jakokuzuishou's reactor, looking around in mild interest. This was Saffir's domain, his own tiny kingdom, the center of his empire of numbers and reason; much as Dimando's crystal-hewn Presence Chamber was the heart of his own principality.

The White Prince realized with a small start of jealousy that he was far more alien in his brother's preferred environment than Saffir-otootochan was in his own realm of politics and rhetoric.

He gave a tiny shrug. It was for this reason that he was not alone in the chamber; he turned to the small woman beside him and said coldly, "That is the Door. You will tell me who has gone into it for the last four Cycles."

Amethyst ja'Redran looked up at him with opaque verdant eyes, then curtsied deeply. "As you will, Serene Highness," she replied, and moved to the main control panel. She puzzled over them silently for a moment, jumping slightly when she felt Dimando's presence behind her.

Dimando re'Adamant was not, admittedly, a comforting personage to have behind you; Amethyst could think of roughly fifty-nine things, off-hand, that she'd rather have at her back. The White Prince was so -- so -- so remote. He was brilliant, true, but it was the cold brilliance of a diamond, white and icy and all sharp edges, with never a hint of the fire that burned in his heart. She really couldn't see why Saffir was so attached to his oniisan; but then, she'd never had any family of her own beyond her father, and he'd always loved the books and the scrolls far more than he had her.

"Well?" Prince Dimando said coldly.

"Serene Highness," she said quietly, "there are two energy-signatures that have entered this.. Door, in the last four days. There is a bright green aura, and a very brilliant blue. I put it to Your Serene Highness that these auras would match that of Esmeraude re'Garnet and His Highness Saffir re'Adamant."

Dimando was silent a moment, drumming long nervous fingers on a control panel. His coldly handsome face never changed expression, while his glacial pale eyes stayed neutral. It was impossible to tell from his expression how very chaotically his emotions were roiling. Saffir had gone through the Door? With Esmeraude? Dimando was under no illusions as to how very much his brother detested Esmeraude, and vice versa. Usually, the only way he could get them to suffer each other's company was to threaten each with dire punishment if they began their usual wars of the dozens.

Why had Saffir gone through the Door at all? Without even telling him? Dimando bit his lip, then recalled that he was not alone. He looked coldly at the small woman with rich purple hair who stood before him.

"Thank you, Amethyst. You are dismissed."

Much to his annoyance, she didn't immediately curtsy and leave the room. Instead, she said humbly, "My Prince, this device interests me. May I have Your Serene Highness' permission to examine it further?"

His first impulse was to blast her into oblivion for her presumption, but he checked the instinct after recalling that this was, after all, her first offense. He tried not to waste subjects; after a life on cold, barren Nemesis, denizens learned to hoard all resources very carefully. For Dimando, this meant people as well as more intrinsically valuable objects, which meant no unwarranted blasting of people.

He considered her request from all angles. On the one hand, only Saffir had been allowed free run of the jakokuzuishou's chamber. On the other hand, Dimando knew that Amethyst was one of the few on Nemesis who had a realistic chance of puzzling out the dizzying control panels, and thus learning how to make trouble with them. On still another hand, it might be a chance to bring back Saffir-otootochan.

Dimando wished vaguely for some rebellious lords, or an embezzlement from the Black Moon Treasury, or something pleasantly simple.

"Very well," he said finally. "You may have one hour per day."

"But, my Prince, for the complexity of the machine, I would require at least three - "

"Do NOT try my patience, Amethyst ja'Redran; one hour I have given you, and one hour you will have," Dimando said very softly. There was no fire in it; almost all the White Prince's rages were cold ones.

"You may have one hour per day," he repeated. "See that you use it wisely."

She sank to her knees in a blatantly obsequious gesture; Dimando silently frowned. And here he'd thought that she would be one of the very few who weren't utterly cowed by him. Ah, well. All in a day's work.

Purple cloak fluttering behind him, the White Prince left Amethyst to her duty.

� � �

Esmeraude idly fluttered her fan as she surveyed the young man seated across from her. Saffir had just -- shown up out of nowhere, had sat down in one of the comfortable armchairs that dotted the suite, and just stared at her.

She found it a trifle disconcerting, especially after she realized that it made her think of Dimando. Saffir's beloved oniisan had that same penetrating, unnervingly piercing stare; and it was just as piercing coming from shadowy blue as it was from glacial pale violet.

"Well?" she said, too abruptly and too loudly. "What do you want, Useless?"

"Don't call me that," Saffir requested politely. "As I think I proved in Beryl-sama's throne room, I'm just as useful as you are, on a mission of this sort."

"So you managed to sweet-talk us out of getting thrown out of here," Esmeraude said. "So what? I probably could have done it - "

"Yes," said Saffir reflectively, "you probably could have. That is, if you had read the history books I have, been drilled day after day by Dimando-oniisan in the proper court etiquette, had a few hours in which to prepare your case, and then been able to read Beryl like a book. Yes, Esmeraude-san, if you'd had all of those things working for you, then you would have done even better than I had, because you would have also used your innate talent for bullshitting."

Esmeraude goggled at him. In all her association with the blue-haired prince, she'd never even heard him say "damn."

Saffir seemed to read her mind; he smiled tiredly. "Dimando-oniisan says that royalty ought not to swear. It demeans us and brings us down to the level of our subjects, and that can't be allowed, because they must think of us as semi-divine beings, and when was the last time you heard a god swear?"

The green-haired woman decided that Saffir had very definitely slid into genuine psycho status. The strain of having to deal with Kunzite had pushed the little bookworm over the edge for good. Well, now that he wouldn't be a threat to her any more, she could pity him. She'd told him that this was a mission for a trained soldier, not for a scholastic nincompoop like him....

"Esmeraude," Saffir began, looking at her with eyes of impossible blue, "do you - miss home?"

That had taken all of his courage to say. Even now, he was very much afraid that she would laugh derisively and crow over his 'weakness.' But his love for Dimando-oniisan wasn't a weakness, it wasn't! Even just thinking of his brother's rare, brilliant smile made Saffir's weariness melt away. He missed his brother so badly that he ached inside, and vile as Esmeraude was, she was the only other person in this damp, dark, cold realm who could conceivably even comprehend his loss. After all, didn't she love Dimando, too?

"Miss home?" Esmeraude looked at him, just as he had feared, and gave one of those glass-shattering peals of mirth. "Now, why would I do that, little one?" she said patronizingly. "There are certain aspects of Nemesis that I'll admit to wanting to see again - " she winked, and Saffir felt annoyed - "but as for the actual wretched world itself, no way in hell."

Saffir felt it first, and forebore to reply as a portal opened in midair. Out of it stepped Nephrite; behind him slinked Zoisite, looking at both of them in avid curiosity.

"Saffir-sama," said Nephrite with a cool smile, "you will accompany me today, in order to acclimatize you to this realm."

It was not an invitation.

"Esmeraude-sama," Zoisite said, with honeyed malice, "I'm sure that you and I can find something to discuss. Fashion, perhaps?"

Not even Esmeraude could mistake the fact that the sakura did not mean to be gainsaid.

The two Black Moon clanmembers looked at each other for a split second. Then Saffir rose, and bowed to Nephrite.

"Certainly, General Nephrite-sama. I am at your service."

"Come along then," Nephrite snapped.

As the pair disappeared through one of Nephrite's trademark starry portals, Zoisite turned to Esmeraude.

"So, tell me what the creme de la creme of Nemesis is wearing nowadays," the copper-haired King invited. "Go on, do. I'm sure that gray must play a part in it somewhere..."

Esmeraude inwardly gulped. Her and her big mouth....