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Biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, Saffir stared at the two women for a brief second, completely at a loss. The strange auras of the women themselves were oddly frightening -- and on top of that, they could sense the evil permeating the building as well as he could. If not better.

Haruka was still staring at the building, her mouth agape. Oddly enough, she had no bitingly acidic comment to make about the house. Michiru's brow was furrowed in some deep concern, her own discerning blue eyes troubled as her lithe hand moved to her throat to nervously pluck at a silver pendant about her slender neck.

Saffir's fingers fumbled for the doorknob, his hands uncharacteristically clumsy and awkward. The sound caused Haruka to stiffen once more, before she released her seatbelt and twisted around in the front seat to stare at him with a glare that chilled Saffir to his very bones. "Where are you going?"

"This is my cousin's house," he said, in a remarkably steady voice, given he was shaking inside. He couldn't understand it, but this woman frightened him. There was something in her personality that just...

Michiru also wound around to look at him, and he noted how her knuckles had turned white. She had her fingers wrapped around the pendant so tightly Saffir was instantly worried. Not only could the pair sense the presence of the negative energies, they knew enough about them to have a reaction to it. Haruka seemed angry, Michiru pensive.

Stumbling out of the car, Saffir spun back around, nodding his head in the direction of the car. "Doomo arigatoo gozaimasu for your assistance -- I shall be fine on my own, now."

Haruka snorted, gunning the engine as she wound the window down. "You're one weird kid, Hirosada-san. I can't say it's really MY problem, however. And I'll give you some advice -- stay out of intersections." She then added, almost as an afterthought, "If I were you, I'd also keep an eye on your cousin."

Michiru gave the other woman a glare, and turned thoughtful eyes on the young man. "'Til we meet again," she said softly, an odd glint in her eyes. Almost amicable, but with a certain corrosive bite to it. He had the unsettling feeling that they would indeed meet again.

"Which, for your sake, had better not be soon," replied Haruka with nothing short of a disapproving frown, before peeling down the street in her sleek convertible.

Saffir watched them go, and sighed. Best he go inside now, and deal with the insufferable jerk Nephrite, and then return to see just what smeg Esmeraude had gotten them into in his prolonged absence.

With heavy feet to match his heavy heart, he silently walked up the driveway, and proceeded easily through the doorways of the building. Certainly, they were not locked in a traditional way, though he found it odd that they were not magically warded.

Then, the sounds of an argument reached his ears.

­ ­ ­

"So, Nephrite, care to tell me where Saffir-sama is? I seem to have asked you this question numerous times, but am still yet to receive a satisfactory reply."

"Kunzite, I am sure he couldn't have gotten far-"

"Oh really? And what evidence have you to back up this little claim of yours?"

"You've read his aura, haven't you? Surely you have! You can see quite clearly that Saffir is no mage -- even though he has potential, it is very obviously almost completely untapped... wherever he is, I am positive he's travelling by mortal means."

"Youâd like to believe that, wouldnât you?"

Nephrite had to fight to resist the urge to simply punch Kunzite out. While the auburn-haired king grew more and more agitated, Kunzite remained calm, aloof. Sometimes, Nephrite really hated Kunzite. "I do believe it," he replied, trying his damnedest to use the same tone of ice that Kunzite used normally.

It seemed that turning his own weapon on him didn't work, at least in this case. "Nephrite, if you do not locate this... ambassador very soon, I really do believe that something terrible could befall you." A small smile began to play at his lips. "And wouldn't that be a tragedy worthy of Shakespeare?"

Nephrite, still holding the empty glass, stood. Wavering slightly on his feet -- he cursed the fact that the lethal combination of alcohol and Kunzite always had this effect on him -- he filled the glass once more. "I shall go find him -- but I'll have you know, this was entirely Zoisite's idea. If you want to blame somebody..."

"I'll blame whomever I see fit," Kunzite interrupted smoothly. "Now, go."

"That won't be necessary," came a quiet, almost depressed voice from the door. The heads of the two eldest kings swivelled in shock to stare at the little prince, who appeared even paler and ill than he had before he had left the compound of Nephrite's Terran mansion. "I found my own way here."

Kunzite's shock was quickly masked, and he turned his cool grey eyes on the other king. "Nephrite?"

Startled, Nephrite dropped the glass, the discordant tune of shattering glass temporarily the only sound in the silent room. "Yes, Kunzite?" he finally said, trying to ignore the stare of the so-called prince.

"We need to speak further of this -- you included, your highness," he added, looking to Saffir, who just stared blankly at him for a moment, before nodding his dark head. His own thoughts were still wrapped around the three strange personalities he had encountered today... and somehow, in some part of him, he included Sailor Pluto in this strange quartet.

­ ­ ­

Zoisite was rather startled to see the form of the Blue Prince wander into Kunzite's outer chambers, and he made this clear with his almost shrieked, "What are YOU doing in here?!"

"Visiting," replied the young man diffidently, though he appeared somewhat indifferent. Zoisite realised, uncomfortably, that Saffir had apparently mastered the same tone of voice that Kunzite-sama possessed. The absolutely emotionless drawl that was as unreadable as it was impossible for Zoisite to imitate. He was too fiery, too emotionally dominated to play mind-games of that intensity.

To Zoisite's relief, the Prince was followed by Kunzite-sama, not to mention Nephrite and Esmeraude, carefully avoiding each other, it seemed. It amused Zoisite to no end to see that Nephrite had a wary, watchful eye on the fan Esmeraude still retained about her being.

"I think we need to have a discussion here," Kunzite remarked dryly, breaking the tense silence. He indicated the numerous chairs about the outer chamber, and added "Why don't we all have a seat?"

Esmeraude primly seated herself in the chair nearest to where Kunzite was standing, Saffir just sitting down quite heavily in the chair nearest to his own form. He was tired, all he wanted to do was sleep.

Kunzite observed this exhaustion with a tinge of pure amusement. It seemed that Saffir re'Adamant was not really suited to the demanding job of a diplomat. It was yet another indication that there was something wrong with the prince's story that he and Esmeraude re'Garnet were here for ambassadorial purposes on behalf of his elder brother.

Nephrite had, not surprisingly, a glass of fine alcohol in his hand, looking a little the worse for wear. He was not impressed at all over this whole situation. He took the seat next to Saffir's, and suddenly offered Saffir a conjured glass. "You look like you need a drink," he said, with a startling degree of gentleness.

The pale physicist stared at the proffered glass with no small suspicion. "No thank you, but I appreciate the offer."

Nephrite looked at him for a second, then realisation dawned. "My, you are a paranoid one, aren't you? I haven't added any little concoctions to it, my dear prince of paranoia."

Saffir winced, a gesture not missed by any of the observers, though only one understood it. Dimando had occasionally, in all affection, called his otootochan "The Prince of Paranoia." Esmeraude frowned -- it was disturbing, how deeply Saffir seemed to miss his older brother. It made her uneasy -- and most of all, it made her doubt if they were ever going to get back home.

From the looks of it, it was going to have to be her show from here on in. Saffir's eyes were so dulled, she doubted he had the slightest bit of hope left.

It was at times like this Esmeraude appreciated her innate nature -- at least she was a bookend opposite to Saffir's pessimistic temperament. She knew they were going to get home, and, most of all, she knew that she was going to marry Dimando-sama and rule Nemesis.

For now, however, she would quite happily settle for the silver king.

­ ­ ­

Amethyst ran a hand through her hair once again, the gesture obviously a nervous habit. Her eyes were clouded by fatigue -- staring at a computer screen for hours upon end was not something she did a lot of. Of course, she was the supervisor of the huge computerised reference system of the Archives of Breccia University, but she much preferred the musty books and files to the blandness of the gently glowing screens. It was screens that now completely boxed her in, in this room of the jakokuzuishouâs reactor.

Her fingers stilled over the keys as a small cry of relief moved forth from her throat. She had finally discovered the comprehensive record of who had passed through the gate -- and their predicted destination.

Rapidly scrolling down through the list -- shuddering as she saw the name of Rubius re'Stephanite, the pompous prick -- she finally reached the end.

Her eyes widened as she recognised the two names: one of a field-marshal, the other of a member of royalty.

With slightly trembling fingers, she called up the destination of the pair, who had apparently moved through the Door together -- odd. From the rumours that had flown about the palace for years, she had always believed that Esmeraude and Saffir got along almost as well as a Palestinian and an Israeli.

She frowned at the destination that came on screen. That had to be the wrong one --sure, the space side of it made perfect sense, but the time was completely diverse, compared to the previous time periods input into the computer.

She moved to the doorway, and swallowed before talking to the tall, faceless guard. She never had felt comfortable, dealing with the military faction. "Could you please ask Prince Dimando-sama to join me in here? I think there's something he might find very interesting..."

­ ­ ­

About half an hour into the tense little discussion, Saffir had politely excused himself, pleading exhaustion. Zoisite had abruptly stood at a glance from Kunzite, and offered to escort him back to his guest chambers, to ensure that he was fine. Zoisite then added that he would go to his own rooms to also get some rest. Esmeraude had furrowed her brow at this, wondering where in the Dark Kingdom Zoisite meant. After all, the little sakura had said that he never used his chambers, he had admitted that Esmeraude herself was using them. She then brushed it away, thinking that Zoisite must have a home of his own about here somewhere... but then, why did he have personal chambers in Kunzite's home?

It was all too confusing, and she was beginning to think a nap would be quite satisfactory.

Zoisite, rather oddly, had taken Saffir's hand and swung it madly as he pulled Saffir to the door, his eyes glinting. He had then more or less skipped from the room, practically dragging the young man with him. But not before Esmeraude caught the look of absolute misery on that pale face.

She had to choke back a laugh. It looked like Saffir was slipping.

Turning back to the two men, Kunzite seated beside her, Nephrite across from her, she took a sip from the crystalline goblet, and her thoughts turned for a second to that odd little sakura. During the earlier part of this little interrogation, Zoisite had perched his little form on the arm of Kunzite's chair, and spent a good deal of the time shooting off his mouth about Esmeraude's dress sense. However, he had always been unerringly polite and courteous in his dealings with the despondent Saffir. Esmeraude had to wonder why in the Hell Zoisite had taken a liking, no matter how small, to the prince, and seemed to be out for her own throat.

"So, Esmeraude-san, now that your aristocratic companion has taken his leave of us..." drawled Kunzite, giving her a piercing look with his silver eyes. "Would you care to indulge me?"

Esmeraude smiled lasciviously, fluttering her long eyelashes in the process. Kunzite did not react at all to this mild flirtation. Nephrite just looked disgusted. "Indulge you in what, Kunzite-sama?"

"I would appreciate it if you could answer a few questions for me about your princely delegate. Every time I have tried to speak with him, he has been infuriatingly vague in his answers, if he even answered the questions I set to him at all."

The green haired woman crossed one long, coltish leg over the other, giving Kunzite an unmistakably sensuous look over the rim of her glass. "Forget about Saffir -- he's nothing, compared to me. You should be more interested in me, my Lord."

Nephrite, by now, was shaking with laughter. He dearly wished Zoisite was here to witness this -- not to mention it was painfully obvious that Esmeraude knew not of Kunzite's little... fetish...

Kunzite sent him a glare, but it did little to stop his delighting in Esmeraude's blind stupidity. The green haired woman just ignored Nephrite, instead concentrating her disarming smile on the silver king.

Disregarding the quietly hysterical king, Kunzite moved on. "Esmeraude-san, your ambassador friend Saffir-san is in fact a prince, is he not?"

"By birth, yes -- heâs the younger brother of Dimando-sama, after all," Esmeraude replied, somewhat tartly. She was getting immensely irritated with the way everyone overlooked her in favour of the mental physicist.

"Dimando-sama..." Kunzite murmured, rolling the name around in his mouth like it was something vile. "Tell me of your White Prince, Esmeraude-san."

"What, Dimando-sama?" she asked, a little surprised. "Dimando-sama is... the most wonderful, intelligent person on Nemesis. He's wise, and a political genius, not to mention a fair-to-perfect mage-warrior." She fluttered those killer eyelashes again. "Actually, he reminds me of you, a little bit."

Nephrite couldn't help it. He burst out laughing -- he could see that the verdant haired woman was infatuated with her White Prince, and now he had proof that Esmeraude was indeed trying to get into Kunzite's trousers. Oh gods, the little sakura was just going to love this, all right!

Kunzite swivelled his silver head towards the other king, poison in those argent eyes. However, Nephrite was beyond being pacified. To avoid an impending argument with the silver king, he swiftly stood and excused himself.

Esmeraude watched the baka zodiac jerk disappear with no small satisfaction. She then turned back to Kunzite, purposely leaning forward so that her tantalising perfumed scent could waft its way around the silver king. "Is he always like that, my Lord?"

Kunzite rolled his eyes. "Nephrite is unstable, it's a well-known fact. I am surprised he lasted this long -- especially with Zoisite around. I never would've suspected Zoisite would hold on this long on doing something lethal to that man. However, that is not the subject at hand."

"No, it's just you and I now," Esmeraude said gamely, though her smile disappeared with the king's next words. "Excuse me?"

"You said 'you and I,'" Kunzite repeated calmly. "It should have been 'you and me.' Your White Prince obviously doesn't know how to pick educated emissaries."

"Don't start trashing my sovereign," Esmeraude suddenly snapped, her hackles flying up. However, she had managed to overlook the personal insult in favour of the implied one regarding her Prince.

Languidly, Kunzite cast a knowing smile in her direction. "Oh no. What are you going to do, attack me with your mascara wand?"

If this disparaging comment had come from anybody else, with the exception of Dimando, Esmeraude might have possibly castrated someone, or at least made a damn good try. However, this was Kunzite, whom Esmeraude was finding more and more alluring. She couldn't explain it --his arrogance and cool stance drove her insane. But it was like Dimando -- the more he pushed her away, the more she kept coming back. "No, I shan't do that, Kunzite-sama."

He cocked a pale eyebrow. "Oh? So what will you do?"

She touched her nose, and then laughed. Kunzite had to wince at the sound, and he was immensely relieved when she stopped it, setting the glass back on the table. She then placed both her hands on the arm of Kunzite's chair, staring up at him from under those impossibly long eyelashes.

Inwardly, Kunzite sighed. He hadn't counted on this. For not the first time, he was endlessly happy that Zoisite was not here to play witness to Esmeraude's teasingly seductive display. Esmeraude the Ambassadorial Coquette.

He had unwittingly found himself in a compromising situation. Either he could reject Esmeraude completely -- giving her an insight into his sexual preferences as he did so -- or milk this situation for all it was worth. Certainly, if he could make Esmeraude talk, surely the price to pay wouldn't be that high. Then again, there was the small matter of an insanely jealous sakura...

Kunzite lamented the fact that nothing was easy anymore. Except maybe Esmeraude.

­ ­ ­

The tall man stared at the computer, eyes narrowed. "But that period is more than a year before the time that Senshi Guardian of Time sent the Small Lady to!"

Amethyst nodded gravely, though she prudently remained two or three feet away from the White Prince. He was very obviously trembling, and she couldn't tell whether it was from fear for his brother, anger at his brother, anger at Esmeraude, or just anger at anyone who happened to be in the vicinity. Which, unfortunately, was Amethyst alone. "Unfortunately, Your Serene Highness, the computer gives no clues as to motives regarding the destination."

"Unfortunately..." Dimando repeated in a low voice, his pale face further etiolated by the glowing glare of the screen that held the offending information. The unreadable tone of his voice set the greatest reader of Nemesis ill at ease. "Amethyst, can you reproduce these co-ordinates?"

She seemed a tad insulted at the question. "Of course, Serene Highness. I can do it right now, if that is your wish."

"It is," replied Dimando shortly, standing from the chair in front of the monitor. "I am going to follow my brother and his companion into the past."

"Oh," said Amethyst, vaguely wondering to herself if that were really such a good idea.

"And you shall be accompanying me."

"Oh... NANI?!"

The holder of The Throne of the Winds cast her a cool, contemptuous glare. "Are you refusing the orders of your sovereign, Lady Amethyst re'Padparadscha?"

Swallowing with great difficulty, she hurriedly shook her head. "O-of c-course not, Prince Dimando-sama..."

"Good," said the Prince imperiously, allowing a ghost of a smile to grace his thin lips. Amethyst shivered, and turned to the computers, easily inputting the required co-ordinates. For some reason, Dimando's earlier "hacking," his inputting of the correct password, had completely lowered all the deterrents and passwords in Saffir's obscenely complicated system. The opening of the Door was the easiest thing she had done thus far.

The Door was ready for activation as Dimando stepped to the circular place in the floor where it would be activated. He looked to the violet haired woman with a touch of impatience. "Amethyst Ja'Redran, stop gawking and come with me."

Hoping she wasn't signing her own death warrant, Amethyst tentatively refused by saying "Are you sure this is a good idea, Prince Dimando-sama? I mean, leaving Nemesis during this battle with Crystal Tokyo..."

Dimando sighed impatiently. "Lady Amethyst," he said harshly, "I don't expect to be gone anymore than a few hours at the most. I am simply going to find my brother, bring him home, and ensure he doesn't pull a stunt like this ever again." He then added, almost reflectively, "If he wants to be spontaneous, he has to clear it with me first."

With trepidation, Amethyst hit the activation button, and joined the Prince. Even though she knew she could reactivate the Door from whatever their destination, she still felt... nervous. She closed her eyes and tensed herself -- she had never done this before in her life, and she was terrified.

Silence.

She hadn't realised it would feel like... like... well, like nothing.

Opening her eyes, she found herself being glared at by a very irritated Lord of the Towers. "It doesn't appear to be working, my lady."

Amethyst drew a sharp breath as she caught sight of the figure Dimando-sama seemed oblivious to. For a second, Dimando was immensely irritated that the young woman was ignoring his icy rage, but when he finally followed her gaze, he realised what was putting the terror in her eyes.

He had never met the woman before himself, but the black and white uniform, with the ridiculously short skirt and obscenely cheerful bows, was unmistakable. Not to mention the tall, thin Time Key held in one gloved hand, the Garnet Orb atop it.

With barely concealed mirth, she bowed her dark head to the unimpressed White Prince of Nemesis and the trembling archivist at his side. "Your Serene Highness, I have been expecting your imminent attempt to retrace your amusing younger brother's path."

Dimando glared at her frostily. "Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Pluto, I assume? What a delight to finally meet you at last."

"I wish I could say the same thing," Pluto replied icily, before waving her free left hand in the direction of the bank of computers in the reactor room, also home of the Door. "You may be wondering why your Door has not worked. Basically, I have warded that particular passage of time against your intrusion. Your younger brother and his companion are the last of your people to ever go that way -- and unfortunately, the pair of them only bought themselves a one way ticket."

Dimando drew in a sharp breath. "Excuse me?"

Pluto seemed unperturbed by the anger rising in the cool violet eyes of the White Prince. "I am truly sorry that you shall never see your younger brother again. However, I must add that I find it commendable that you have bothered to come this far in your quest to locate him. I never suspected a denizen of Nemesis could care so completely for another of its kind... however, those are the rules. I cannot allow them to return to this time, nor allow you to go back there."

Dimando bit his lip in a gesture reminiscent of the one that Saffir made so often in his nervousness. It was the only sign of his distress. "Those are the rules?"

"Hai. And don't start blaming me for your problems. I don't make the rules," Sailor Pluto said firmly, though there was, quite possibly, a small touch of gentleness in her voice.

"You just love enforcing them, ne?" Dimando inquired, in an icily sweet voice. "Arigatoo for your sympathies, Senshi. However, this is my home, and I must insist you leave." He then added bitterly, "You seem to have played your role as messenger of bad tidings to the best of your apathetic ability."

Sailor Pluto seemed on the verge of saying something else, but then she suddenly shut her mouth. She bowed her head, and vanished but a second later, leaving a stunned archivist and a silent Prince in her wake.

Amethyst brought into her lungs a refreshing breath, now that the stifling presence of the Senshi was gone. However, the words of the dark-haired woman had made her feel profoundly sad. The young prince had been a lovely person, really...

"Prince Dimando-sama?" she asked, looking up, the words dying in her throat as she did so.

His Serene Highness, Dimando re'Adamant, White Prince of Nemesis, Patriarch of the Black Moon Family, Lord of the Towers, and Sovereign of the Exiles, was staring blankly into space, tears dripping unchecked down his alabaster-pale cheeks.

She drew in a hissing breath, her heart almost standing still. In her whole life, she had never seen the Prince even genuinely smile in her presence. And now, here he stood before her without acknowledging her presence, silently weeping in his grief over the loss of a cherished brother.

It seemed he stood there for a long time.

­ ­ ­

Zoisite perched in midair at Saffir's bedside, watching the young man sleep.

Occasionally the blue-haired man would stir fitfully, muttering something that Zoisite could never quite catch; certainly, it wasn't anything politically important. Zoisite had never cared much for politics, instead preferring his own "slash, stab, undercut and backstab" school of bureaucratic gymnastics, but even he knew that the first law of diplomacy was to pick ambassadors who didn't talk in their sleep.

Saffir murmured and turned over. The prince looked so young and vulnerable that Zoisite, unable to help himself, reached out and smoothed back some of the unruly blue hair. Saffir started at the gentle touch, and shadow-blue eyes flared open.

"What are you doing?" Saffir said suspiciously, looking at Zoisite in an unfriendly light.

Far from being discomfited by this, the copper-haired King laughed and parried, "How trusting you are, young prince! Going to sleep in the presence of another being whom you don't know very well!"

Saffir gritted his teeth, then drew up his legs and sat upright in one fluid motion. He wasn't a warrior - the martially-inclined Zoisite could tell that by the stance he took, cross-legged and leaning backwards. No, not a warrior; but still wary and suspicious. It would probably be pointless to attack him, but Zoisite amused himself by planning ways to do so anyway. "You can never be too prepared," that was Zoisite's motto.

"I repeat, Zoisite-san, what are you doing here?"

The lovely General's eyes narrowed. He didn't like that tone. He decided to teach the young prince a lesson....

"Did you know that you talk in your sleep?" he inquired sweetly.

Saffir jerked, then quickly schooled his face back into studied neutrality. "No, I didn't."

"You do," Zoisite said, smiling. "Some very interesting things, too."

"Oh, really?" Saffir said, trying desperately to recall what Dimando-oniisan would've done in a situation like this.

"Yes," Zoisite continued, watching the blue-haired man with barely-veiled spite. He let Saffir simmer for a moment, allowing the younger man to wonder frantically what he could've possibly said that might have compromised his position. Then Zoisite yawned, and dropped, "I find it quite fascinating, you know, that you keep screaming your brother's name in your sleep. You know, whenever I'm dreaming, I always scream Kunzaito-sama's name... And especially in that tone, too."

It took a moment for the insult to fully percolate its meaning into Saffir's mind, so genuinely fond of Dimando was he. Then he understood.

The young prince ripped out of bed, reached out, and yanked the stunned Zoisite out of the air to land on the ground in an unceremonious heap.

He hauled Zoisite to his feet, then gritted, "I love my brother. He means more to me than anything in all the universe. I miss him dreadfully." He shook Zoisite by the collar, holding the shorter King with both fists. "And -- I -- Do -- Not -- Share -- Dimando-oniisan's BED!"

By this time, Zoisite was turning an interesting shade of blue. Saffir was taller and more massive than the delicate King, as well as stronger; Zoisite stood about the same chance of breaking Saffir's grip as Saffir would have had in the hands of Kunzite. The sakura shook his head violently, in a rising panic; a gurgle escaped his throat.

"How dare you suggest such a thing!" Saffir raged. The dam had broken; Saffir hadn't lost his temper completely for -- oh -- say, three years. He'd been storing up this rage for a long, long time -- all the times when Dimando-sama was too busy for him, all the times Esmeraude called him Useless, every time Rubius snickered at him and mocked him, all the times when the Wiseman tried to poison Dimando-oniisan against him -- and then Zoisite's obscene, heart-breakingly malicious insult.

Still waters run deep...

­ ­ ­

Kunzite sighed, and firmly took Esmeraude's wrists in one hand, holding them in a no-nonsense, annoy-me-and-you're-going-to-be-wearing-wrist-casts grip.

"Madame Esmeraude-san," he said with finality, "while I am flattered by your obvious esteem for me, I am already permanently attached."

Esmeraude, whatever else her mental deficiencies, knew quite definitely when she was being told to back off. Her brown eyes narrowed. "Why, Lord Kunzite-sama," she said, sweet and cold as ice cream, "whatever do you mean?"

He noted with mingled annoyance, grudging admiration, and reluctant amusement that she managed to turn the tables quite neatly, her tone implying that HE were the one to act improperly. Yes, the woman had all the intelligence and charm of a lukewarm bowl of snot pudding, but she did have a certain uncanny slyness to her. She would have made an excellent youma, he couldn't help thinking. About Tetisu's class, say.

"I mean," said Kunzite detachedly, rising with a fluidly feline grace, forcing her to rise with him or have her shoulders dislocated, "that I expect you to stop flirting with me, subtly or grossly, and get on with your diplomatic mission from your Dimando-sama. Your so-wise Dimando-sama, the White Prince."

Not even Esmeraude -- not even Rubius, had that baka prick been present -- could have mistaken the cool contempt in Kunzite's deep voice.

Esmeraude being Esmeraude, she tried to rally the point: "Oh, surely you are mistaken, Kunzite-sama. I've never tried to flirt with you -- I would never presume - "

"Oh, yes?" Kunzite said sarcastically. "So in Nemesis, it's usual to pour oneself into a dress shorter than one's hair, and drench oneself in attar-of-jasmine?"

Despite herself, Esmeraude felt slightly pleased; so he'd noticed. Jasmine was evidently as favorite a scent with Kunzite as it was with Dimando... But then there was this one business. Esmeraude really hated people who referred to themselves as "one;" she felt, personally, that if you were going to talk about yourself you might as well go whole hog and make sure the entire world knew that it was YOU the conversation was about.

Even if you were a tall, gorgeous silver-haired Shitennou with an irresistable aloof arrogance, by Esmeraude's way of thinking there was no excuse for being so stuffy about manner of speech.

She smiled ferally at him, and was about to frame a suitably cutting reply when they heard a choked-off scream issuing from down a corridor.

"Zoi-chan?" Kunzite said disbelievingly. He vanished in a coruscation of argent fire.

Annoyed, Esmeraude followed, if only because she wanted to deliver the clever response that had just popped into her head.

­ ­ ­

Dimando re'Adamant sat upon his throne, sipping something blood-red and thick from a snifter of pure delicately-carved sapphire. His eyes were fixed on nothing in particular, but kept ticking over each piece of furniture in the spartan room. Not even the hologram of the blonde god-empress, Neo-Queen Serenity, could hold his attention for very long.

The Citadel seemed so empty

(because Saffir is gone)

and drear. Not even the captured banners of all the rival clans, fringed in red to show that they had been made subservient to the Black Moon Family, could brighten his mood. He felt as if his heart had been stolen and replaced with one made of ice.

No, not ice. Of diamond: cold, frosty, and flickering brilliantly, with never a hint of the lonely fire within.

"Saffir," he whispered, in a voice that was very like a sob. I promised my dear brother a field of flowers; it appears that they will be for his mourning. Saffir, Saffir, you damned baka, why did you have to leave me? Why? I loved you, I loved only and ever you, you were the one bright spot in all of Nemesis. You always loved me, you always trusted me, you always were the only one whom I could ever trust in all this dark and cold world. Saffir-otootochan, how dare you leave me all alone when I need you and your unconditional love so badly? How am I to stay strong in my resolve to have Earth, when there is no one to whom I can give it?

Dimando sipped again, staring down into the dark liquid, as crimson-dark as blood spilled in passion, as scarlet-black as the last drop of blood to leave a murdered heart.

­ ­ ­

The Wiseman sat floating in his small chamber ringed about with pillars and with shadows.

"Paranoid Saffir is gone," the cold monotonous voice mused. "As is the slyly imbecilic Esmeraude. Their loss is a minor setback, but a great step forward. With no one to brighten the day-dreaming Dimando's heart, there will be no more obstacles to the elimination of all Earth -- and then there will be no protectors for the weakened Dimando when the Death Phantom claims his life as well..."