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Anabel had certain allowances. It was part of being so good at collaborating. One of them was that, sometimes, to ensure her continued good health, a lieutenant would come by to walk Mendel, and leave Anabel with a few blissful hours to wander without her very distinctive dog walking with her. This was good, because sometimes she just wanted to be quiet and alone; if anything else, she had her non-donor bracelet, and Sakuradite's protection. Only another General-Sovereign could lift a hand against Anabel without Sakuradite's word, and... well.

Successful is as successful does, after all. She braided her hair absently, and turned a page in her book. Every so often, though, she'd hear someone talking, someone walking... Anabel looked up then, because she sometimes did have to deal with overzealous lieutenants, but this was no lieutenant. "Azzo," she said, closing her book in her lap. He was sitting at a chess table, and she crossed the space between them.

"Want to play a game," she asked, gesturing at the pieces.

"I'm fine," she said, tapping the back of his hand. The brown piece looked back at her, and she sighed. Everything was coming up black for her lately, in everything except her little endeavors to maybe make a dent in the Negaverse's population. "I'm on the no-drain list. Abdominal weakness, you know. They can't drain me for five seconds without me passing out." And they'd tried, before Sakuradite had intervened. Sometimes Anabel nearly loved the General-Queen. It was stockholm syndrome at best, and her mind starting to go at worst. She waited for his move, fingers tapping on the table.

She sighed, and crossed her ankles. "I'm working on some stuff," she said, shrugging with one shoulder and studying her pieces. "For Sakuradite."

"No," she said. "Stress isn't good for me." She moved to counter his play, a sigh coming easily.

How to explain the secret behind her cooperation without actually saying anything… She couldn't. That was the problem. Youma spies could be anywhere, along with Lieutenants, Captains, worse. She had to appear loyal. "I serve the Negaverse," she said, "in any way I can. I do research and development."

She braced herself for his hate and revulsion, but--she heard something. That was Snowball, she thought, looking at the cat. That was definitely Snowball, but, cautious of the watching eyes, she kept her own on the pieces. "General-Queen Sakuradite protects me from the youma and the rank-and-file for my service."

Once she'd countered, she shrugged. "People like me ought to just be glad for what we can get," she said. "Sakuradite takes very good care of me. I owe her everything." Was there a message in that? Yes. Don't tell me too much. Keep Snowball quiet. I'm being watched.

"You probably shouldn't go looking for any of our old friends," she said, "A few of them turned out to be traitors." Like Zircon. Like herself. She reached out to her friends and turned them in, that's how that went. Unless they were of value. "Have you considered going on a hike? I could get you a pass out of the city."

"I have to be," said Anabel. She quirked a smile and took Azzo's queen, leaving a clear avenue for one of his pawns to cross the board. "Check."

She had worried about him. So many had disappeared. So many had been turned in. She didn't have access to all of Sakuradite's records, after all, and she had less standing to question anything the General-Queen thought about. "I'll get you a map and a pass," she said. "I'm sorry to hear that she's gone." Was he saying Princess Polaris was dead? Oh, lord, that would not be good. They needed as many royals as they could get, and Anabel knew that they were struggling already.

Damnit! She ground her teeth, but otherwise managed to stay fairly placid. Freaking out would not help her now. "In the meantime, Finn's still got the old place, if you want to sleep indoors. The Negaverse encourages us to open our homes to those without." And the homeless tended to end in a bad way--the sort of way that would only later be seen as a youma.

The other side could mean any number of things. Ana was smart, she knew that now--as much a mechanical genius as she'd ever been--but her mind was not one bent natively for codes, and she had no idea if her meaning was getting across. A fine double agent, yes, but… nothing more than that. "I hope for that for you," she said, sincerely. Whether he was a blood knight seeking death or a warrior seeking his return to Valhalla, she wished him happy. They'd been friends, once.

"Yes," she said, reaching over to pat Snowball behind the ears. "The old haunt's still around. If he won't answer the door, write him a letter. Sometimes that old keypad doesn't work right."

"Yeah," she said, scanning the board. There was no way out for Azzo, and his statement--it seems black always wins--was true.

She took his king in one hand and sighed. "Take a look with him, alright? Don't hesitate to ask if you need anything."

Anabel bent down to kiss Snowbell on his furry little head. "Take care," she said, sotto voce. Then she pushed herself to her feet and waved before heading home.