“It’s a long story," (Patreon)

I admitted. "You probably should sit down.”

Meadow looked around for a place to sit. Finding none, she shrugged and sat on the unconscious Burnside.

“Let’s see," I mused. "Where should I start...”

“Probably from the beginning,” Meadow suggested.

“The earliest thing I can remember is waving to my father...”

“Skip to the part after we separated, please.”

“All right ... after you left I was in dire need of legal counsel. I had three options: A love-struck and brain-dead Floozy from Estmere's harem (whose specialty was some obscure form of botany), a ridiculous old fox shamelessly pretending to be the Wolf Queen, or an actual professional Floozy-at-law. Naturally I picked the lawyer. Unfortunately for me, she was a Sisterhood agent and she failed to defend me in any way. I suspect that she botched the trial on purpose as part of the Sisterhood’s plan to get me out of the way for their nefarious plans. Later on, she forsook her allegiance to the Sisterhood and promised to only work for me.”

“Oh, how did you manage that?" Rebecca asked. "Did you enlighten her with Fuma’s gifts?”

“Uuuuh-" I blushed. "Something like that. Yeah.”

“Still pretty bashful for a self-proclaimed Wiles master," Meadow snickered. "I remember how beet red you turned at the idea of closing that gap with me after we got back into Faerie all those years ago.”

“As I recall," I sniffed disdainfully, "you were just as bashful as I was, if not more so.”

Meadow blushed while Rebecca unsuccessfully stifled a snicker.

“Skipping ahead," I insisted, lest this turn into a feminine gigglefest, "I was stationed at the Antglade outpost as a dignitary. You were correct in assuming that my execution was the furthest thing from my royal brother’s mind. He actually thought he was giving me a vacation. He was such a lummox. By Fuma, I miss him.”

There was a heavy moment of silence as we all stared glumly at the ground.

"Ahem," I coughed, breaking the spell. “It seems the Duchess already had a plan worked out for me. I suspect that she somehow got word out that I was raising an army to overthrow my brother. Estmere admittedly did a, let's say less than stellar job governing the empire, and the Vulpitanians' plan to make him into a lowfolk was the final straw which turned a lot of elves against him. They started showing up at my outpost after Queen Edessa became pregnant with an unnatural offspring. The Duchess made it very clear that my choices were limited, so I had to go along with her plan at least for a while. She also gave me the Plague of Battles, making it clear that I had no choice at all in taking it. Burnside was assigned to me as a Diplomatic Liaison (actually just a thug to make sure I did as the Duchess wanted), but I was eventually able to win her over. Partially. She did try to assassinate me later, but I was able to win her over for real the second time.”

“For real, huh?” Meadow asked dubiously.

“It’s true!" Rebecca exclaimed. "My lord was able to win Burnside’s heart and she swore an oath to serve and protect him! It’s so romantic, the way he tamed the fearsome Raccoon Monster of the North Woods.”

“And she swore this oath to you after she betrayed your trust and tried to kill you?” Meadow asked with a lifted eyebrow.

“Homicidal maniac or not, Burnside is an elf," I declared coolly, "and an elf’s word is her bond. Burnside may be a little- no, COMPLETELY Unseelie and may also be completely mentally unstable-”

“That's the truth!" Rebecca blurted enthusiastically. "One time, not too long ago, a Psychologist - that's a budding new field of study in the lowfolk world, fascinating stuff - wanted to interview her. He was planning to write a paper about her, but I had to help him escape before Burnside gutted him and used his scalp to make a hat.”

"As I was saying," I blurted, trying to regain control of the conversation, “Burnside may be Unseelie and mad, but she is an excellent fighter, and her loyalty is without question. What emperor turns down such a valuable asset? She’s already proven to be a good bodyguard.”

“An asset?" Meadow scoffed. "How long until she become a liability? If even half the things I’ve heard about her are true, she’s transcended the category of mere murderer and become a walking war crime.”

“Nobody can deny Burnside is dangerous, Unseelie, and possibly even evil," Rebecca pointed out, "but she is not beyond redemption. She does value the virtue of loyalty. For 200 years she’s protected me and the various charges in my coven all while valiantly waiting for my lord to return to us. I think with time and patience we can put her on the right track to Fuma’s all-encompassing light.”

“Are you a witch or a missionary?” Meadow asked, staring at Rebecca in confusion.

“Haven’t you ever heard of good witches?” Rebecca huffed in mild indignation. “Witches can be good! They make herbal remedies to heal the sick and help expecting mothers give birth! I’ve done that and more.”

“The standard definition of a witch is a person that makes unholy pacts with demons!" Meadow insisted. "What you described are herbalists and midwives. As an elf you should understand the dangers of changing the meaning of words!”

“Now, now," I interjected, soothingly. "Let’s not be too hasty. Rebecca is entirely Seelie. She is a kind and gentle soul that only wants to do good. All her actions are done to spread the love and glory of Fuma. What does it matter if she likes to wear black and enjoy the occasional cackling fit? Even I enjoy a good cackle on occasion.”

“The problem is calling herself a witch!" Meadow protested. "What type of message does that send to the impressionable youth? She could very well be a walking gateway to darkness and Unseelieness. Some poor, uneducated sap could see her going around claiming to be a witch while doing her good deeds then want to be a witch too! I can just hear the argument now: ‘It’s okay to sell my soul to a demon because witches are good now.’ 200 years ago I wouldn’t have cared, but as the Mouse Queen, the acting arbiter of Seelieness in Faerie, it is my duty to protest this dangerous game she’s playing.”

“Ugh!" Rebecca sighed in exasperation. "You're just like all the other closed-minded fools I’ve had to deal with in my life! The rabbits of Bunkirk said the same things. Fuma loves everyone, and my tastes don’t change any part of Her divine plan in the slightest!”

"Everyone simmer down," I commanded. "Rebecca has proven herself to be a kind, Seelie soul who would never dream of breaking away from Fuma’s light, and anyone who knows her and wants to follow her example would never consider such Unseelie acts either. I’ve met a number of Rebecca’s coven members, and they were MOSTLY stellar examples of morally upright and scholarly minds. Meadow, you do not know her as well as I know her, and as Emperor I must override your criticism and order you to stand down."

“I’ll take mah cackle-berries over-easy, thanks,” Burnside mumbled as she lay face-down on the ground.

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