Misery’s trying to turn her head to see who’s speaking, but her adversary won’t let her. Most Holy is big news, though. Only the biggest of guns. Very few fall under that umbrella, although of course most of them reside here in the duchy of Canis—

The voice says: “This is quite unseemly. Are you here on your brother’s orders?”

The stranger hisses, but zie detaches from Misery to stand up, and in the absence of pressure Misery climbs to her feet to see what’s going on. Pain sparks from deep places in her body, but she ignores it.

In the open space her savior stands surrounded by a phalanx of guards, the glint of their pistols in contrast to the billow of their pale vestments. Their commander is a blade of a person: straight-backed, fine-boned, a close-cropped crown of titanium ash atop a narrow face. The vestments of upper clergy—rich, bold, red and gold—drape a slender figure with a stillness and weight that takes air from the lungs. Misery knows who this is—she knows the face—Storm Imogen, the Archbishop of Remus, they/them pronouns, the most senior Church figure in the system short of the Council of Cardinals and the Pope herself. She blows out a breath. Being around Church Authority—big C, big A—makes her feel seven again, she can’t help it, she tucks her hands behind her back and pulls her feet together. Keeps her head lowered. It’s rude to look eye-to-eye with a Church elder like this, she just can’t. Even the presumptive royal next to her seems subdued.

Pyrex Imogen says, in their cool voice, “The Messiah is under the protection of the Church. I would ask you to release her into my custody.”

The stranger crosses hir arms and scowls. “She’s not the Messiah and you know it.”

“Lightning. I’m surprised to hear you say that, after everything we’ve been through.”

“Don’t fucking bring it up,” zie snaps in response, and Misery tilts her head, thinking, Lightning? Could this hostile stranger possibly be the Emperor’s sister, the Lady Lee Alodia Lightning something something…? Misery forgets the rest of her ten appellations but she’s the only living royal who uses that name. The Emperor’s sister, what could she be doing here?

“Come now,” says the Archbishop. “There’s been enough trouble today.”

“And there will be more, if the Church seizes the Messiah from custody of the Throne.”

The Archbishop tilts their head. “Are you authorized to act on behalf on the Throne, Lightning?”

A hiss that means no. The hostile stranger—who must be the royal princess, Lee Alodia Lightning—retreats into herself like a sullen child.