Ice Princess

Epilogue

 

Relena stared out at the garden from her balcony at the Peacecraft mansion.  She had forgotten the beauty of it, especially this time of year, when the leaves on the trees were just beginning to change for the fall season.  She missed it.  She was actually kinda glad to get back to it.

She sighed.  It was over, yet she was far from back to normal.  She would never be back to the fragile creature she was three years ago.  And, in a few days, the world would meet the new Relena Peacecraft. 

She wondered which would shock them most, her new perception of the world, or her new look.  She had decided to keep the red hair, adding soft curls to it.  She completely restocked her wardrobe, not only because of the change in taste, but also because her new build caused most of them not to fit right.

She looked up at the sky as dark clouds rolled in and wondered in she had the ability to resume her duties as Vice Foreign Minister.  She would let the people decide whether or not her changes were for better or for worse.

 

“So no one knows who killed him?” asked Milliardo as he looked up from his paperwork to Trowa and Eric standing in front of his desk.

“No,” said Trowa.  “He was found dead in his office at the warehouse that Eric told us about.  Security cameras didn’t see anyone enter or exit.  And none of them have been altered.”

“A pretty damned convenient time for that to happen,” he mumbled.  He shook his head.  “Don’t worry about an investigation, Trowa.  Whoever did it did us a favor.  Just find out if Kensington was planning any more surprises for us and take care of them.  Heero is taking some long-needed time off, so I’m putting you in charge.  Dismissed.”

He nodded and they both turned to the door.

“Eric, stay.”

Eric stopped as Trowa opened the door.  He turned and faced Milliardo as Trowa closed the door behind him.

“Eric, I have a feeling that you know what happened.  Would you mind sharing that information?”

Eric sighed as he looked at Milliardo.  “The Barton Foundation gave a bad name to a lot of good families, including mine.  Their loyalties were never in question, and when they were alive, the Bartons praised them.  When everything came crashing down, and those families were destroyed, the Bartons turned their backs on those of us that survived.  They stomped our names into the ground.  I couldn’t let it happen to someone else.”

Milliardo nodded.  “Don’t go alone next time.”

“There shouldn’t be a ‘next time,’ sir.”

He nodded again.  “Good.  Dismissed.”

“Yes, sir.”