Archmund pushed his way through the crowd to see an Imperial carriage.

  “That’s enough. No further,” said the stern voice of a man in full armor, brandishing a Gemstone Sword.

  “…Zankto?” Archmund said. He recognized the eyes of a member of Mercy Stirpstredecim di Omnio’s honor guard.

  “Heir Granavale,” said Zankto, his eyes widening in recognition. He jerked his head towards the carriage. “You can get in.”

  Archmund began to step forward—

  “Not your companions. Just you.”

  He mouthed a silent apology to Mary and Raehel and stepped into the carriage.

  The door slid shut, and the curtains fell.

  He didn’t recognize the girl in front of him.

  Her blonde hair had been curled into cascading ringlets. Her eyeshes were deepened with mascara. Her dress was a deep magenta-red, made of a fine silk. She grasped an elegant hand fan, also silk. Everything about this woman screamed that she was a noble who would never dirty her hands in her life.

  “Archmund Granavale,” she said.

  And yet if not for her drastically different demeanor, he’d swear this was clearly Mery Stirpstredecim di Omnio.

  Or, as she was properly known, Princess Angelina Grace Prima Marca Omnio.

  “Your highness,” he said, politely. “What do I call you?”

  She quirked an eyebrow. “You haven’t been trained in forms of address? How typical, for one from the lesser gentry. I can forgive you this once, but—”

  “You know what I mean,” he said. “‘Mercy’.”

  She blinked back.

  “Hmmm,” she said. “I’m surprised that you… that you can tell.”

  “We fought side by side. That’s Zankto right outside. Was it supposed to be a secret?”

  Princess Angelina ughed.

  In fact, it was.

  “Zankto doesn’t know,” she said. “The men and women of Mercy Stirpstredecim di Omnio’s Sacred Guard are regur soldiers and budding heroes in their normal lives. Zankto just happens to be a royal guard as well.”

  “He doesn’t know,” Archmund said slowly, feeling the words out in his mouth. He’d watched the man spend eight hours jumping to Mercy’s every order, and it seemed he spent all his time standing guard for the Princess. It seemed very, very difficult to believe he couldn’t tell the two were one and the same.

  Princess Angelina pulled out a Gem. It was an onyx bck dodecahedron. It pulsed briefly with her magic, and her visage rippled, becoming Other. Becoming Mercy Stirpstredecim di Omnio. If Archmund hadn’t literally watched her change, he would have needed a few seconds to recognize her.

  “It’s a very powerful illusion,” Mercy said from where Angelina had sat. “My presence, my essence become indistinguishable, even for those who see the change. “

  “So how come I can tell?” he said.

  Angelina grimaced. “Your Gemstone Tablet made note of me,” she said. “Those things have a very nasty way of piercing through to the truth.”

  Secret identities often relied on people just not connecting the dots between obvious clues. It was how lovers could be in denial that their partners were cheating on them openly, brazenly, and frequently — they simply could not believe what their eyes and ears told them. Perhaps the Gemstone Tablet and the System made the truth impossible to ignore, or perhaps they pierced through the magic, because they were the magic.

  Their carriage started moving at a comfortable pace. They had escaped the throngs of the town and were headed towards Granavale Manor.

  “Why are you here, Princess?” Archmund asked.

  They had invited other, lesser nobles. Three neighboring Counts — Redmont, Greenroot, and Bckstone — had agreed to visit the festivities, and the Duke of the greater duchy of Agraria had politely demurred, so surely an Imperial Princess had more important matters to attend to than a Harvest Festival for a backwater county of little political significance.

  “My house received a visit from your father stating that you intend to offer Gemstone Gear as a prize for a dueling competition,” Angelina said.

  “You said I had dispensation—”

  “You do. Dispensation to create an imperially-sanctioned honor guard, with wide discretion in choosing its members. But,” she said, flipping her fan open, “that imperial sanction requires imperial observation and imperial approval. I’ve come to serve as an imperial observer.”

  “I see,” Archmund said. It made sense, but a part of him was disappointed, though he couldn’t expin why.

  “And,” the princess said, pulling up the curtains and staring out at the wheat-rowed countryside, “I suppose our conversations weren’t unpleasant.”

  “You missed me?” Archmund said. He was surprised to hear joy in his voice. No. It was just wry amusement. Definitely.

  “Don’t think anything of it,” Angelina snapped. “The only people in Omnio City are sycophants, backstabbers, and family. It was a convenient coincidence that you gave me an opportunity to prove my worth as a civil administrator and a woman of the people with this event of yours.”

  “Happy to be of service, midy.”

  She bnched. “Come on, man.”

  The next day, at long st, the dueling tournament began. From the early morning.

  Archmund had constructed a makeshift colosseum, like the one in ancient Rome, out of wood and spare bricks. He’d deployed his de-facto engineer corps, and they’d built the colosseum in the course of a week. It was about equidistant between the town proper, the Dungeon, and Granavale Estate. He’d considered putting it closer to the manor, but it was excessive as a noble’s personal toy. Putting it closer to the Dungeon would’ve cemented the Dungeon as the primary economic driver of the county, which was the opposite of his long-term goals. And putting it near the town would’ve caused noise compints.

  For the sake of visibility, there was a circur stage in the very center of the arena, surrounded by 16 dueling id out 4 to a row.

  It wasn’t meant to st, and it was hardly grand, but it looked impressive, and damn it if that wasn’t enough.

  “A bit small,” Princess Angelina said. She sat in a seat of honor, on a makeshift ptform for the tournament organizers and announcers. His father was also there, as the Count Granavale. Raehel also sat with them, though a bit closer to the back, as an honored guest, and Mary was there as his alleged bodyguard.

  “Small,” Archmund said.

  “The design nearly matches the grand colosseum back in the capital,” Angelina said. “If you weren’t a hick I’d think you’d copied it from memory. But it’s much smaller.”

  He had, in fact, copied out of memory. But not of any memory of this world. Memories of Rome, back on Earth.

  Archmund shrugged. “We don’t have as many people out here.”

  Indeed, even with the whole of Granavale Town observing, almost half of the seats in the colosseum were empty.

  “So, how are you going to be able to see?” Raehel said, flouncing over to them, her robes askew. “I’ve got my gsses. But you?”

  “I am the Princess Angelina Grace Marca Prima Omnio. My blood is perfect. I can see a thousand paces away in the night.”

  Raehel gave Archmund a look. She didn’t grit her teeth or contort her face too strongly, but it was clear that she had thoughts about the imperial family but also was very strongly attached to the idea of keeping her neck intact.

  “I’ll be able to see the action,” Archmund said neutrally.

  Raehel raised her eyebrows incredulously before bowing obsequiously and going off to a corner.

  “I must say,” the Lord Reginald Granavale said, “I’m proud of you, Archmund. You put this together incredibly fast.”

  In truth, Archmund had a strong advantage: a half-formed memory of the SCRUM manifesto (not to be confused with the SCUM manifesto, which was something else entirely, though both were hundreds of years ahead of Schools of Dominant Thought in this world), which was the foundation of Agile project management strategies. He didn’t remember it very well, but he remembered a few principles enough to deploy it.

  Don’t make grand, fully-structured pns from start to finish — make pns that can adapt to changing circumstances.

  If there’s a dey in a project, figure out what the blocker to progress is — and remove it.

  By using those principles alone he’d managed to build the colosseum in the course of a few weeks. It wasn’t likely to st the winter, but it would serve its purpose.

  He was very gd that neither workpce safety standards nor building codes existed in this world.

  “My son’s probably right around your age, your highness,” his father said, “but he’s already quite accomplished. He guided the direction of this Harvest Festival, and pnned this tournament, all by himself.”

  “I had the help of many others,” Archmund said. He didn’t mind the praise. But it made him feel like he’d have even more to live up to, a hope he wasn’t sure he could fulfill.

  “And he’s modest, too,” said the Lord Granavale. “A wonderful quality to have in an ally.”

  “Is he,” Angelina said coolly. The corners of her mouth twitched up. Was she ughing at this?

  “But I assure you, he’s as skilled as he is modest. Why, he was instrumental in taming Granavale Dungeon, and that’s why he’ll be the pride and joy of Granavale County for many years to come!”

  “How fascinating,” said Angelina in mock surprise. “I’m amazed to meet someone who could conquer a Dungeon all on his own at such a young age!”

  Now she was mocking him.

  “Father,” Archmund said, “Why don’t you go entertain the other Counts?”

  “Ah, yes,” said the Lord Granavale. “I’d best keep them engaged.”

  He walked off. There were three noble families who had deigned to visit this show of Granavale wealth, as well as a representative of the Venato merchants. Archmund hoped his father would broker introductions, but first he had to salvage one of the retionships he already had.

  Archmund winced. “I’m sorry about that.”

  Angelina shrugged. “I’m used to it.”

  There was a distant look in her eye and a wistful tone to her apology.

  “He would hardly be the first noble to try and arrange for my marriage,” she said.

  Archmund’s eyebrows raised to the very top of his forehead. “I’m sorry? We’re far too young.”

  “We’ve discussed my prospects already, Granavale. In depth.”

  “Right,” he said. They’d definitely had one of those conversations about all the expectations that id with her.

  “It would cement our alliance,” Angelina said, curling one of her blonde ringlets around her finger. “I can’t deny that. But…”

  “You’d be able to gain more leverage about pying suitors against each other.”

  Queen Elizabeth of Engnd in his past life had done that. She’d lived and died a virgin, never marrying, because that was the way she could keep power as reigning monarch without having to cede it to her husband, the king consort. He wasn’t sure whether the Omnio Empire followed such succession rules, and in any case it was far too early to consider such things. At least by his reckoning.

  But not by hers. She nodded.

  “I wish you didn’t understand, Granavale.”

  Down below, eight referees (out of sixteen total) blew eight horns in tandem. The official universal signal for the start of festivities.

  It was time for the duelists to come to the field.