[Lauchenoiria]

“She’s a Kerlian spy! She’s spying on her mother and her sister for the man-haters!” the Prince crowed, pointing at the girl the security guards had dragged in. She was drenched in water from the heavy rain in the night, and was bleeding from where she’d fallen onto a rock while trying to get away. In spite of this, the eleven-year-old Imogen Robinson was glaring at the King with a look of challenge on her face.

Imogen had tried very hard to get away, and for a while she thought she’d managed it. She easily lost Camille and the Prince on the first day, by running through a field of sheep covered in their droppings. Prince Jacob had halted at the fence she’d jumped, exclaiming about how disgusting she was, and how he would never allow “that stuff” to ruin his expensive, fancy shoes. Camille hadn’t said anything at all.

Her trouble came from the fact that she didn’t have a destination in mind. When they’d accepted her offer of information, they were very clear that she needed to give them a lot to make up for her family’s betrayal. She doubted therefore that the Kerlian embassy would be particularly welcoming. And it wasn’t like Kerlile had many allies. Xiomera, perhaps, but she could just imagine turning up at the Xiomeran Embassy and asking them to save her from the royal family of Zongongia.

Besides, she didn’t know what direction the capital was in. The royals preferred to live away from the capital in Zongongia, unlike most countries. And Imogen wasn’t sure if she’d run north, south, east or west. She didn’t know how to navigate by either sun or stars. She did know what berries weren’t safe to eat, thanks to the first time she and her sister had been forced to go on the run in Kerlile.

She sought shelter in a tiny gap in some rocks. It could hardly be called a cave; she was an eleven-year-old and barely fit in the gap. That was where she spent the first night, uncomfortably curled up and shivering in the cold of the dark mountains. If she had been smarter, she would have travelled by night, but Imogen wasn’t really prepared to go on the run. She knew she ought to stay off the paths, but that made it harder to navigate.

Up in the mountains, she kept coming across steep drops and needing to double-back. She didn’t know what direction she was going in at any given time. She almost got trampled by a herd of wild horses at one point. She fell in a muddy river. And then the rain started; and would not stop. The only shelter she could find was the ruins of what had once been some kind of farm structure several centuries ago.

That was where they found her, when they searched all the possible hiding places. She’d been dragged unceremoniously back to the Palace on foot, given the inability of motor vehicles to access this area. Now, she was being stared at by the collected Royal Family and her fellow Kerlian exiles, and dripping dirty water onto the fancy carpets. She held her head up, as she had learned to do in Kerlile. But she was scared.

“How old is this child?” the King asked.

“Eleven, Your Majesty,” her mother whispered. Imogen couldn’t detect her tone.

“Eleven. Jacob, I am given to believe that you are the one who ordered Palace security to search the surrounding countryside and bring her back here?” King Osvald turned to his third son.

“Yes,” he said proudly. “So you can deal with the filthy Kerlian spy!”

“Jacob, where exactly do you think we are?” the King enquired, then held up his hand to halt any response. “Do you believe we are in Xiomera where the head of state rules by decree? Or perhaps it is time you have confused, and believe this is 1723 rather than 2023? No? Well, either way I must remind you of two things. One, I cannot do anything about alleged Kerlian spies. And two, the age of criminal responsibility in Zongongia is twelve. This child is a child Jacob. As are you.”

Jacob scowled at his father, opening his mouth to speak only to be interrupted.

“Let the girl go,” King Osvald commanded the security who immediately unlocked the handcuffs and pushed Imogen an inch away from them. She didn’t know what to do, and so hesitated, only for eight-year-old Jia Chiu to step up, take her hand, and lead her to stand with the other Kerlians.

“You’re just going to let her go!?” Jacob yelled. “She could be telling them how to attack us and make us all their slaves! Just because she’s eleven? I’m eleven and I know that you don’t let Kerlian spies do their spying!”

“Yes, you are eleven!” the King raised his voice. “You are eleven, and therefore you do not understand this situation. Leave us, Jacob. Go to your room immediately! And you, Albert, seeing as you were involved in this whole affair. I will speak with you later.”

His tone left no room for argument, and the two young princes departed, though not without a couple of glares in the direction of the Kerlian children. Jia stepped in front of Imogen and bared her teeth – which was more amusing than threatening, given Jia was a full head shorter than Imogen. Once the two younger princes had left, the King turned to Carmen Robinson.

“Our apologies, Madam Robinson,” he said. “This should not have been allowed to happen. We will be having words with our sons.”

“It’s okay, Your Majesty,” Carmen assured him. “I’m just glad Imogen is safe.”

They exchanged the necessary diplomatic pleasantries, and then the Kerlian group departed, leaving the King with his eldest two sons, the three princesses, the Queen and the youngest – still just a baby himself.

The Kerlians were all present; Carmen and Natasha Robinson; Camille Pierre; Xia, Jia and Cheung Chiu. The group made their way to Carmen’s suite in silence. Upon arrival, Xia Chiu took Imogen into the bathroom to clean her up and give her fresh, dry clothes. Imogen was silent, with tears beginning to form at the corner of her eyes. Xia gave her instructions, and then when she was finished, told her to sit down and began to brush the tangles out of her still-damp hair.

“Imogen,” Xia said softly, “is there any truth to the Prince’s words? I ask that you tell me, even if it is difficult. Your mother is quite upset and I would prefer to prepare both you and her for whatever has happened.”

Imogen closed her eyes, the tears rolling down her cheeks as much of an answer as any words would have been. She braced for the woman to hit her, or some other punishment deemed suitable by a Kerlian, but Xia kept calmly brushing her hair.

“I’m not angry, Imogen. None of us are. Let me tell you a story of the first time I ever left the Matriarchy. It was for the Olympics in Shuell in 2019; Jia was only five and I had just found out I was pregnant with Cheung. I was very nervous to be in such a different environment. I didn’t know what to expect. While we were there, I experienced a lot of things that people in Kerlile never do. Random flirting, wolf whistles, looks. It was scary! And then Jia and I had an… altercation with someone my family is very frightened of from our past.”

Xia put down the hairbrush and looked at Imogen in the mirror in front of the pair. “Your own family history with Zongongian royalty is complicated. And things here are very, very different than they were in Kerlile. It is natural to be frightened, and shocked, and crave the familiarity of what once was. You’re a child, Imogen. You acted as a lost, homesick child who acted on the only possible solution she could see. We’re not going to punish you for that.”

“I’m sorry,” Imogen whispered, crying. “I didn’t want anyone to get hurt, I just want to go home. I really, really, really want to go home!”

“I know honey,” Xia said, bending over as best she could to hug the girl, given she was quite heavily pregnant herself at this point. “I know. It’s going to be okay, but I will need you to tell your mother what you told the government, ok? Can you do that for me?”

Imogen nodded, wiping the tears from her face and trying to calm down. She sniffled, and Xia handed her a tissue for her to wipe her eyes and blow her nose. Once she had calmed down, Xia took her hand and led her back out to the others.