Heero walked down the single corridor that led to the dungeon, his footsteps echoing oddly and reverberating in different directions. He hugged his arms around himself as if he were cold, and indeed he could see his breath mist over in front of his face. It was the only place in the entire city where the temperature dropped so low. Even the dungeon was warmer.

"Heero?"

The prince turned and saw Treize coming up towards him, one hand finishing up the buttons on his collar. "Khushrenada. I take it you're headed for the dungeon as well."

Treize slowed as he caught up, nodding once. "I wouldn't be down here otherwise. I hate this tunnel."

They continued walking, and Heero glanced over his shoulder once, wondering why he felt eyes staring at him.

"You're not the only one," he commented. "There's something strange about this place."

Finally they came to the corridor's end, a large wooden door with heavy metal bolts. Heero unlocked them, and they both stepped down the handful of steps to the lower dungeon floor.

Straw strewn on the floor muffled their footsteps as they passed by several empty prison cells. Most in front were mere cages of iron bars, some of them without doors but with manacles against the walls. At the far end of the dungeon, though, deep in hidden recesses the torchlight couldn't reach, lay a handful of thick doors with huge locks and tiny windows at the top.

"He's in the third one," Treize said, reaching for a ring of keys on the wall. "Heero...when Zechs and I finally broke him, he admitted his crime and explained how he got in, but he held out on who'd hired him. We haven't been able to get that out of him yet."

"Even with a truth charm?"

Treize nodded. "I think he's more afraid of whoever's paying him than he is of us."

"How long as he been isolated?" Heero asked.

"Since we brought him down here," Treize answered, unlocking the door. "He's had nothing to eat or drink, either."

Heero nodded once, then walked in after Treize.

In the corner of the tiny cell, just beyond torchlight, the straw covering the floor rustled as the prisoner scuttled out of reach. A visible trail of blood led to the torn and bandaged hand. Heero shut the door again and stared at the captive.

"What's his name?"

"Nichol," Treize replied.

"Nichol, who hired you?" Heero asked.

The prisoner glared and turned away.

Before Treize could launch into another round of interrogation, Heero moved in a blur and grabbed Nichol, slamming him against the wall. The assassin groaned in pain, stars swimming in his vision.

"I asked you a question," Heero hissed. "I dislike being ignored. Now, I will ask you only once more." A knife appeared in his hand, and he pressed the tip against Nichol's ribs. "Who hired you?"

Nichol tried to shy to the side, but the young prince seemed to have the strength of a monster. "Do what you want," he growled. "I won't talk."

"Wrong answer." The blade slowly pierced the skin, the cold metal slicing past bone and into muscle. "Who?"

Nichol groaned again, but he said nothing. The blade went in farther.

"I'm only inches from your heart," Heero said. "Tell me and I'll end this now."

"Go to hell."

Without changing his expression, Heero pulled the knife back out and pushed it into Nichol's abdomen. Hot blood gushed over his hand. Nichol tried to scream but he couldn't force his words to take shape. Instead his breath came out in shallow hiccups.

"Say nothing and you'll have a dozen matching wounds," Heero told him. "Give me my answer and I'll send you to your chosen afterlife."

Nichol spared a glance at the captain of the guard, who had opted to lean against the wall and wait. Treize noticed his look and shrugged pitilessly. Heero's methods were often cruel and heartless, but they usually got the job done.

"Your choice. I've seen him do it before." Khushrenada smiled, ice in his eyes. "Of course, I can always have my sorcerer raise your dead spirit and get the answer that way."

"And I don't have to let him send you back again," Heero added.

"Actually," Treize said, considering. "Now that I think about it, his dragon hasn't swallowed a soul in quite awhile. I think she might enjoy the treat."

Nichol shut his eyes tight as Heero made another stab. "But...the master...he'll do that if I talk--aagh!"

Heero ceased twisting the knife, waiting. Master?

"No," Treize shook his head. "We'll send your soul off here and now. This palace is safe from magick. You'll die, and no one will ever be able to touch you again."

Heero pushed the blade into another spot, closer to the heart. Blood was starting to cover the floor around them. "You have my word. Tell me who hired you and your soul is safe."

Blood trickled over Nichol's lips, and his voice gurgled. "Sank...Catalonia."

Without hesitation, the blade dived into the beating muscle and stilled it. A few shudders ran through the hilt, and then the body slumped to rest. Heero pulled his knife out and wiped it against the body's clothes before sliding it back into its sheath at his side.

"Sank?" Treize wondered. "I would never have expected the attack to come from those girls."

"I don't think it did."

"You believe he was lying?"

"What does the Sank kingdom care about challenging our sorcerer? No. I think he was telling the truth as far as he could. He mentioned that he had a master, so I doubt he was thinking of either Queen Relena or Catalonia. Still..."

"Best to be certain."

Heero nodded once and rose. "Sank...I think we need to formally invite Peacecraft here, along with her pet foster."

Treize did not look up at the mention of the girl with the long blonde hair. "I'm always surprised someone was willing to foster that girl. There is something unnerving about her."

Leaving that subject behind, they left the cell with orders to the standing guard to clean up the mess. Heero followed the captain out of the dungeon, walking beside him down the hall. "Treize..."

"Yes, Heero?"

"Did something happen down here that I was never told about?" Heero actually stopped in the middle of the corridor and examined the tiles. "I realize this place is old, but even so, the servants should clean it as well as the rest of the palace." He tugged a cobweb down from part of the wall.

Treize forced himself to remain calm, despite the irrational anxiety building up in him. "No one likes coming down here. It is dark and lonely and often filled with the screams of tortured prisoners." He placed his hand on the hilt of his sword for reassurance. "But you are correct. I have heard my soldiers talking to young recruits and frightening them with ghost stories about this tunnel."

"Ghosts?"

"Two of them. An assassin who saved J's life years ago, and...the original Trowa Barton."

Heero leaned against the wall, in no hurry to leave. "How did they come to be here?"

Seeing that they were not going to return to the main palace until the story was done, Treize leaned against the opposite wall. "I have heard this only as rumors, so they may or may not be entirely accurate. Years ago, during the first wars of your father's reign, the kingdom was attacked by a handful of assassins all intent on murdering J. He retreated down here with what remained of his personal guard, but it finally happened that only his own assassin kept him from being killed. I believe his name was Orin Lowe, Odin Lore, or something like that. In the end, this Odin person defeated the other assassins, but the wounds he sustained were mortal, and he died in this hall."

"And the original Trowa?"

"I thought you knew this story."

Heero shook his head. "I know what J allowed me to know. With him in a coma, I have a chance to find out the truth. What happened?"

"You probably know most of it. Young Miss Barton arrived on her way to Corazon after her trip to Sank. Since the trip takes months, so no one must have known that she was pregnant when she set out. Instead she gave birth here in the palace, as did one of the women in a circus troupe performing for the king. I don't know why he chose Triton Bloom, since he could have had the pick of any child born around the same time. But when Trowa was still born, J had the mother killed and brought the dead baby somewhere down here to be hidden away."

"So he sent her body back," Heero nodded in understanding. "Claiming she had died during childbirth."

Treize grimaced mildly in distaste. "And since the 'child' was too young to be sent on such a long journey without a mother, Lagrange would foster the prince. After all, we reportedly had a circus mother who had just recently given birth to a stillborn and could take care of the royal child."

"Ingenius," Heero muttered. He glanced back down the hall. "But has anyone ever seen anything?"

"You mean ghosts or spirits?"

Heero nodded.

"No." Treize hesitated, then went on. "There are sounds other than screams, though, like footsteps when no one is near. One of the servants told me that she heard a child crying down here once. There is a rumor of blood appearing on the walls and floor and vanishing again, but that is probably just a lie."

Heero held silent a moment, then stood straight. "Let's leave."

Treize eagerly followed after.

Heero shook his head as they left. "I understand why the servants down want to be down here. There may not be real ghosts, but it is disconcerting."

They came into the palace again, relieved at the sudden brightness and the satisfying click of the door locking behind them. Treize adjusted his uniform and bowed to the prince.

"If you won't be needing me anytime soon, your highness, I need to run an errand in the city."

Heero shook his head. "I don't foresee any crisis in the immediate future. Just remind your front gate guards not to get too absorbed in conversation while you're going out."

Treize sighed and frowned. "Zechs and Noin will be taking care of that. They're probably out there already."

Heero watched his captain disappear around a corner, then headed to the palace seamstress. If the Sank delegation was to be invited, then a formal court would have to be involved, and that meant Duo would have to appear at his knee. In full finery. Reminding himself to inform Trowa and Quatre about the invitations, he allowed his mind to wonder what Duo would look like in violet silk with black drapery...no, black silk with violent jewelry and ribbons, and a soft veil across half of his face, just revealing those innocent jade eyes.

*

Duo woke to the sound of someone knocking lightly on the door. He heaved a sigh and sat up, drawing the blankets up to his chest. If they were knocking, they weren't Heero, and that meant he wasn't to show more skin than necessary. "Who is it?"

"Prince Heero's sent me to take your measurements. Please let me in."

He frowned at the feminine voice. "Measurements?"

"For your new clothes. I'm a seamstress here."

"How do I know you're not lying?"

Childlike laughter. "If I wanted to lie, I wouldn't be carrying all this heavy stuff with me!"

The laughter won him over. "Come on in, then. I think he left the door open."

A young girl with shoulder-length blond hair walked in, a large bag draped over her arm. She smiled and closed the door behind her. "Hi. My name's Midii."

Duo watched as she knelt on the floor and opened the bag, beginning to remove several swatches of fabrics of different colors. "Um, I'm Duo--"

"I know," she said, not looking up. "Everyone knows who you are."

Duo heaved a sigh and lay back again, resting on one elbow. "There must be something more interesting than me to gossip about."

She laughed and shook her head. "Nope, you're it. You have to admit, you've given all the servants plenty to talk about. Breaking in, stopping an assassin...just the fact that his highness didn't kill you immediately is special." She drew out a measuring tape and a notepad. "Okay, this shouldn't take too long. Could you stand up, please?"

Duo blushed and withdrew into the blankets a little. "I can't. Heero wouldn't want me to."

Midii smirked. "His highness knows just how much I'd have to see. Don't worry, I'm not going to pinch your butt or anything."

Duo scanned the room for something, anything he could use and grinned when he saw one of Heero's spare shorts on the floor where'd it had fallen before. "Just toss me those, huh? Then I can get up."

She spotted the shorts and, giggling behind one hand, picked them up and handed them over. He scooted into them beneath the covers and then stood, surprised at how tight yet comfortable the black shorts were.

"Have you ever been measured before?" she asked, coming close.

He shook his head.

"I'm going to put this tape around parts of you and write the number down. You just have to do one thing."

"What's that?"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing." She placed her notepad down on the bed and started to wrap the tape around his chest. "Don't breathe in, don't exhale too much, don't try to hold anything in. Just stand there and do nothing."

"Is that important?"

She stared into his eyes as she put the tape around his head and face, judging where the veil would fall. "It is if you don't want to burst any buttons at the dinner table."

"Oh."

He held still as the tape stretched over his body, and watched curiously as Midii scribbled little symbols on her pad. I'll bet those are numbers, he thought. I wonder what they mean. I wonder when Wufei'll start showing me those. Hmm, what's that word...c-h-e-s-t...oh, okay...but what's that little one...h-i-something-s...I haven't seen that one before...

Her arms suddenly circled his rear end, and figured out that unknown word meant hips. "Whoa!"

"Sorry 'bout that," she said dryly. "Didn't mean to startle you." She jotted the number down. "Done with that. Have a seat."

"Now what?" he wondered, worried about what else she might have in mind.

"Fabrics." She brought out the pile of swatches and lay them beside him. "Now..." she mused to herself, "he said you'd be in black with violet trim...so none of these...and he hates wool, so nothing of these..."

"He?" Duo asked. "You mean Heero?"

"Mm-hmm. Here we go." She set nine different types of black cloth out and three types of violet ribbon.

"Why so many?"

"Different dyes and dyeing techniques on different silk," she answered. "It affects the texture, and no one wants their slave to have a rash or itch all day because of irritating clothes."

Midii took one patch of black silk and held it to the underside of his wrist. "How does that feel? Scratchy?"

He grimaced. "A little bit."

She put the same patch up against the back of his neck, and this time he visibly cringed. "Not that one. Let's try this one."

"Not so bad."

"This one."

"Ow!"

"Okay, no...this one now."

"Mmm...I can't feel it."

She smiled and moved it from his neck to his inner thigh, slowly coaxing it down his leg to the top of his foot. "Not itchy at all?"

He shook his head, turning so she wouldn't see his blush. "No."

"Hold it against your arm," she said, letting him hold it. "If it gets hot, it might change how it feels."

He obeyed, but after the rest of the cloth was tested, the third was still the best. She stuffed it in one pocket alone with her notes and jammed everything else back into her bag. Slinging it over her shoulder, she glanced around to make sure she hadn't left anything behind.

"Great, that's all I needed. When you see his highness again, let him know I said about three days."

Duo blinked. "Three days? Wow, that's a long time!"

"For the first outfit," she nodded. "But once that's done, I'll have the patterns I need for the rest." She tilted her head at him, folding her arms. "How long did you think it would take?"

He lowered his eyes and his hands drifted towards his braid. "Um, in the market, I've seen them make three shirts in one hour."

She nodded knowingly. "Mm, the quick stuff. But that's got large stitching and poor cuts. Not to sound vain, but my stitching's tiny and my work'll fit perfectly."

"What'll it look like?"

Midii shook her head, wagging her finger at him. "Nuh uh uh, you'll find out in three days. See you then."

He watched her leave, then went over and locked the door before tossing Heero's shorts onto the chair. There was no way to tell if Heero would mind him wearing his clothing, and it wasn't worth getting punished over. Nude again, he retrieved his bag of candy and sat at the window, sucking on fancy jaw breakers as he viewed the immediate landscape. He spotted a troop of guards standing at attention, being sternly lectured by Zechs and blinded by the glow of his platinum hair. Beside him, Noin added points as she saw necessary and occasionally smacked a guard if she thought he wasn't listening.

Duo smirked as Zechs tossed his hair back again, making several guards blink. "Definitely not a regulation haircut," he mused to himself. Enjoying the show, he glanced up for a few seconds to stare across the city. If he looked hard enough, he could just make out the high cross of Maxwell's Orphanage.

*

Treize rode past the merchants on the street, ignoring them as they packed up their wares for the day. He maneuvered his horse around pottery stands and rotting fruit, pulling up short when a few children ran around his mount. A few minutes later he left the marketplace and found himself in a darker part of town. Beggars didn't waste their time here, moving through quickly to get to safer places to sleep. More children ran by, but they were dressed much more raggedly than the first few he'd seen. Everyone who saw him cowered back in their doorways or into shadowy alleys.

"Poor Duo," he whispered to himself. "This is where he lived..."

He brought his mount to a stop when they reached the orphanage. More a hovel than anything else, the stained glass windows were nearly all broken, with jagged pieces falling occasionally into the street. The stone crumbled haphazardly and mixed with the sand below. Wooden doors and window sills had rotted through, but the thin crucifix was still fixed firmly to the front, too cheap to steal.

He slid off his horse and headed to the door. A lone child leaning against the wall spotted him and made a move to run, but Treize smiled and shook his head. "I'll give you a denar if you'll watch my horse for a moment."

The child hesitated and considered. "Five," he demanded.

"Three," Treize countered. "One up front and two after."

"Done."

Treize flipped a single coin into the air, and it disappeared into the boy's hand. He left him the reins and stepped into the orphanage, gently pushing aside the door that hung on its hinges.

A flurry of motion greeted him as other children ran away, diving into unseen hiding spots. Even when he was left alone, he knew they were still watching him. Careful not to step on the blankets pushed together on the floor or the scattered make-shift dolls, he walked to the stairs and descended, finding himself in room barely lit by the trickle of light from the upstairs windows.

Remembering the directions Wufei had given him, he headed to the far corner and ran his hands along the ground, searching for a large brick. He immediately found the flat stone and brought it up, smiling when he saw the sparkle of his dagger and the cross. Pocketing both of them, he scooped up the small pittance of money Duo had left and returned to the main room.

He spotted a young girl who had foolishly thought he wouldn't come up so quickly. She froze when she saw him walk back up, unable to move. He smiled and knelt down so he could look her in the eye. "Duo sent me to give this to you," he said softly.

She watched, unbelievingly, as he set the money in her hand. "Duo...is he okay?" she asked. "He's never gone this long."

He nodded. "He is fine. But he won't be coming back."

At that announcement, a dozen children crept closer. One brave boy motioned for the others to hang back while he approached. "Where is he?"

Treize deliberated between a pretty lie or telling the truth. "He's at the palace," he said finally.

A communal gasp rose out of his small audience.

"But they'll hang him there!" the girl cried.

"They'll torture him!"

"The prince'll execute him!"

"His dragon eats souls, don't it?"

Unprepared for the verbal assault, Treize shook his head. "No, no, he's fine. He's not going to be hurt. He's become friends with the prince."

"Then why won't Heero let him go?"

"He just can't."

The little girl he'd seen first sat down on the ground. "We tol' him he shouldn't hit the palace. Sister Helen would'a never let him steal."

"Sister Helen?" Treize repeated. "Who runs this place?"

"We do," the boy said.

"Weren't there adults before?" Treize asked. "There must have been at the start."

The boy nodded. "Sister Helen an' Father Maxwell...they took care of us first. Then Duo."

"What happened to your Sister and Father?"

The smaller children, sensing this conversation was way over their heads, turned and vanished, but the first pair stayed put. "Oz killed them."

"Oz?"

"They look like guards," the girl said. "Almost just like 'em."

"But their markings are diff'rent," he finished. "Bad enough to get caught by you, but them...real bad."

"They hurt Duo," she whispered. "He wouldn't tell us how, but we knew. He never cried before."

Treize couldn't respond. He stood and went to the door, leaving the children there. Before he left, though, he turned back to them. "Those guards...Oz...I will find out who they are. Things...are not supposed to be this way."

He got back up on his horse, flipping the boy there another two coins, and then rode back towards the palace. On the way there, a few patrolling guards saluted him, but if he kept his eyes open, he could just catch a few others ducking into alleys and side streets before he passed by. He thought he knew all his men...but not these men.

"Things are not supposed to be this way," he whispered. Whatever is happening here, Heero needs to know. And Duo just might be able to help.