Chapter Text
If you were to ask Meryl Strife of the Bernardelli Insurance Society where the entire debacle began, she would have said that it all started when Queen Rem, newly crowned and wanting to ensure her small family’s safety on all fronts, had insured the crowns. Three of them, at the time—her own, and the two tiny ones belonging to her adoptive sons—but it was only the princes’ crowns that caused the problems, so those were the only two that Meryl blamed.
Of course, the entire debacle did not start with the crowns. It had started years earlier, when Rem Saverem, then only a lady of the court who was doing her level best to sort out the political shitstorm of her country, had found a pair of infants inside a flowerbud. It was much like the story of Thumbelina, if Thumbelina had been two baby boys instead of one baby girl and had grown like every other child when she came out of the flowerbud, and had had magic powers.
The brothers’ powers were practically unlimited, Rem learned as she did her best to raise them, and she was struck by how likely it was that the monarchy would attempt to use them for their own ends. It all came to a head one day when her then five-year-old son Vash came to her, deeply upset at an overheard conversation about turning him and his brother into human weapons for their powers, even though they were children, even though they had really only figured out how to heal people using their hair. Rem had had enough, so she’d gritted her teeth and put her head down and gotten herself in line for the throne and then, through careful use of information and a poison she’d synthesized with her old friend William Conrad, in exchange for making him Prince Consort when she gained the throne and would finally have the power to protect her adoptive sons from those who would seek to use their power.
Unfortunately for her, soon after she got the crown both of her sons vanished in the night without a trace of their whereabouts, and though she immediately set the country searching for them, she found no sign of either boy, though, soon after, a series of murders began, all traced back to a criminal who styled himself Millions Knives and, despite the fifteen years of dramatic killings, had yet to be caught.
Meryl, however, who worked for an international insurance company, neither knew nor cared one whit about the lost princes. As far as she was concerned, Queen Saverem had insured three crowns, and there was some noise about missing heirs, and that was none of Meryl’s business. All she had to do was collect the Queen’s payments to the insurance company and keep herself and her partner Millie out of trouble, and hopefully away from Millions Knives.
Of course, this all went wrong. For Meryl and Millie, it simply began to go wrong a good fifteen years after things went wrong for the Saverem family, and about six hours before things began to go wrong for the infamous thief called The Punisher, because, in the end, things going wrong is always relative.
But for Meryl Strife, at least, everything began with those damn crowns and, perhaps more importantly—their theft at the hands of the three criminals, and the subsequent three-day chase that seemed to make the entire country into their playground.
But that had yet to occur.
On the morning of the theft, neither Meryl nor her partner Millie expected anything resembling trouble. Why would they? It was an ordinary day, mostly. Meryl woke up before the sun, stretched, did a few marksmanship exercises, had breakfast with Millie. They discussed, a bit, the upcoming festivities to celebrate the birthday of the lost princes. Meryl thought to herself how lucky it was that the queen hadn’t had the time to take out a life insurance policy on them before they got lost in the first place. She thought too that the festival would be a fun day of relaxation—thought longingly of sleeping in and then spending the next day dancing with Millie until the early hours of the morning, under the light of the floating lanterns.
But first they had a job to do, namely refreshing the insurance policy on the crowns. Their appointment was bright and early at nine, and Meryl always made sure to arrive bright and earlier, because she valued punctuality, and because, if you were early enough, the queen would meet with you earlier and then you’d have more paid time off, since the meeting time became free time and it wasn’t like the Bernardelli Insurance Society had a full branch here. It was just Meryl and Millie, and both girls were extremely invested in being the only insurance agents Bernardelli needed in the country. After all, the work wasn’t hard and their only client was the throne. Mostly, they were entirely free to do as they pleased, and this was something they were both quite happy with.
So they arrived at the castle at 7:30 on the dot, holding coffees and both rather tired, and within five minutes had been escorted to the throne room, where they would wait either until 10:15 for their meeting with the queen, or until she was ready to meet with them earlier. Both insurance agents sat primly and waited, reviewing policy sums and the security that the queen had placed for the crowns when suddenly Millie elbowed Meryl in the gut, and she looked up and over to see a young man descending from the rafters behind the ever-alert, completely oblivious guards.
Millie and Meryl glanced at each other—either this was a ridiculous hole in security that meant they could raise their rates and perhaps take on more work for the throne, or this was some sort of drill for the guards—and then back at the young man, who had now reached the low pillars that the lost princes’s crowns were displayed on.
“Pardon me,” said Millie to the guards, standing, as the young man began to be pulled up and through the ceiling. “I think somebody just stole your crowns.”
One of the guards turned and swore as the young man vanished through the roof. Meryl and Millie watched as the alarm was raised, guards pouring out of their stations to catch the crown thief—overkill, really, there was no way he’d get away with this—and any accomplices he might have had. When they were left alone, Millie pulled out their copy of the insurance policy on the crowns, and the two insurance agents pored over it, keeping an eye open for the opportunity to increase their rates once the crown had been recovered.
What they found, though, was nothing so helpful as all that. Or—it would have been helpful, had the crown been recovered, but as the insurance agents read over their company policy, they realized that, with both the raising of rates and the payout for the lost crowns, the Bernardelli Insurance Society would have to send more employees—possibly even a manager. This increased presence in the country might be good for the company, but for Meryl and Millie, who were used to being their own bosses and quite enjoyed it, it spelled disaster: no more five hour work days, no more regular paid vacations, no more closing the office for every festival and on any whim they agreed upon. They would have to either take on more work than they were paid for or extend the amount of time they spent on their jobs—and, worst of all, they would have far less time for the brighter parts of life, such as fun.
This was a complete, unmitigated disaster.
They needed to recover that crown.
Meryl and Millie were engaged in a deep, whispered discussion of their possible next steps, both as invested in keeping this debacle from the main agency and getting the crown back as soon as possible as the other, when Queen Rem arrived, deeply and obviously stressed out both from the time of year—the birthday of her lost sons—and from the theft. They exchanged pleasantries like usual, of course—it was never a good idea to say to a queen that she looked like a particularly sleep-deprived zombie—and then got down to the initial business, the renewal of the various insurance policies she had taken out with them. This went well: Meryl and Millie had a good working relationship with Queen Rem, and they had perhaps given her a better bargain on several policies than the Bernardelli Insurance Society would particularly have approved of, had they known. This was another reason why it would be terrible for everyone if any coworkers came, so once the main business was concluded, Meryl and Millie exchanged glances, and then Meryl leaned forward.
“Your Majesty,” she said. “About the princes’ stolen crowns…”
“My castle guards are doing their utmost to recover them now,” said the queen. “If we do not regain them in a weeks’ time, I will be filing a claim.”
“Of course, Your Majesty,” said Millie. “As representatives of the Bernardelli Insurance Society, we feel responsible for the loss of the crowns as well, and will do our utmost to help you recover the crowns before any such claim need be filed.”
“Really!” said the queen, surprised. “That isn’t covered in the policy.”
Because of course a woman as intelligent as Her Majesty, Rem Saverem I, would know the insurance policy inside and out.
“It’s—complementary, Your Majesty,” Meryl bluffed. “As thanks for the close relationship Your Grace has kept with the Bernardelli Insurance Society these past several years. Even before you make the claim. We…caught a glimpse of the thief, so we will do whatever we can to help track him down.”
“And this way,” Millie added, smiling at Queen Rem, “if we manage to recover it, your rates won’t increase! It’s a win-win situation for everyone.”
“Assuming Millions Knives doesn’t show up during the search and slaughter literally everyone,” Meryl added, and the queen’s face shuttered slightly—probably because, in fifteen years, she had not yet managed to bring the serial killer to justice and was unhappy about it.
“...Hopefully,” said the queen delicately, “that will not happen.”
Meryl and Millie nodded.
“By your leave,” said Meryl, “we’ll begin our search for the thief now.”
“Of course,” said the queen, rising. “I wish you the best of luck.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Meryl and Millie chorused, not quite in sync, and they curtseyed, and they left, making haste back to their cottage in order to properly arm themselves and then head out after the thief.
They had a crown to recover.