At the office of investigations, Castor sat, writing a letter next to neatly stacked piles of gold coins. After signing the bottom of the page and sealing the folded letter with red wax, he gave it to Key.

"This goes to Major Kane; make sure the money goes directly into the Major's hands," he said, sliding the fortune-worth of gold coins retrieved from the thief back into the two purses. I would take the satchel… Just a recommendation."

Key took the satchel and dropped the two coin purses inside. He then took the sealed letter from Castor. "What does it say?"

"Oh, the usual," Castor began, reciting the letter from memory. "Here's the money and how much money it is; make sure whoever's money this is gets taxed for our efforts of retrieving it. I also requested that he release the prisoner in question into my immediate custody for further investigations. I didn't offer any other information on the matter, so I don't want you to either. Also, you don't have to wait around for correspondence back; he'll send Singer after he's drafted the prisoner release form."

"Alright, I'll be back in no time," Key said, putting the letter in with the gold and leaving.

Key felt uncomfortable carrying so much money around. When he arrived at the Major's office, he felt a sense of relief as he knocked on the door.

"Enter!" a voice sounded from behind the door.

Key opened the door to the office and found it empty except for who he remembered as Corporal Singer. He was a head taller than Key and wore the dress uniform with a blue sash. The uniform looked crisp, and it gave him an air of superiority, even though they were the same rank.

"I have correspondence and a delivery for Major Kane," Key announced formally.

"He's out of the office, but I can take it," Singer said, holding out his hand.

"I've been instructed to put it directly into his hands," Key remembered what happened the last time he said that phrase and hoped it wasn't some ill omen for the Major.

Singer looked annoyed. "He should be here soon if you want to wait."

"Thanks," Key said, adjusting the shoulder strap. "But don't look so upset. You don't want this package any more than I do."

"What is it?" He asked.

Key reached into his satchel and pulled out one of the coin purses. It was heavy in his hands. He opened it and showed Singer. "This is fourteen gold royals. I have another one with fourteen more."

Singers' eyes got wide. "Can I hold it? I've never held so much money in my life."

Key hesitated and then handed over the coin purse.

"It's so heavy!" Singer said, hefting the purse. "What would you do if you had this much money?"

"I don't know," Key thought about it. "Probably buy a commission."

"You could do more than that," Singer said, tossing the bag up and down in his hand. "You could probably buy a whole Dutchy. That's what I would do. I would be a Duke." He plucked a coin out of the bag and flipped it in the air. "Duke Alexander Singer," he said.

Nervous about him dumping the coins everywhere, Key held out his hand. Singer returned the coin to the bag and handed it back. "I can see why you looked so nervous. If any of these went missing, you would probably hang."

"There is no doubt about that," Key agreed. "This money almost got someone hung already."

There was a quizzical look on Singer's face. Key relayed the story of retrieving the money, skipping over the parts Captain Castor would prefer to keep secret.

"So, it was technically you who found the money?" Singer asked, surprised.

"It was a team effort. Besides, if I wasn't there, Cas-" Key almost slipped. "Captain Castor would have found the money by himself. Don't tell anyone I told you this, but he's kind of a genius."

"Nobody's here," Singer waved a hand through empty air. "You don't have to pretend to brown-nose your superiors around me."

"I'm not," Key said, remembering to say something negative about the captain. "He might be smart, but he's a giant lobcock," he borrowed Castor's word. "Always, corporal do this, corporal do that, and if there's nothing to do, I have to stand at attention for the rest of the day and stare at the wall. If you ask me, the guy needs a piece of his own pie. How's it working for the Major?"

"He's a slave driver, never a moment of rest. Sometimes, I wish I was back on guard duty."

Key wondered if all of the officers wanted their corporals to refer to them as "slave drivers" and openly talk about how much they hated working for them.

"Oh yeah, same here," Key responded, gaining inspiration for the game they were playing. "It's like I have an everlasting mound of chores to do. I would jump in an instant to trade places with Keebler for a day."

At this, the two laughed when they heard footsteps. Their laughter was cut short when the door opened.

"Attention in the room!" Singer called out, and both of them stood, feet together, as rigid as a board.

"At ease, men." Major Kane said, then directed his attention toward Key. "What do you have for me today, Corporal?"

"Correspondence from Captain Castor and two bags of gold, sir," he said as he dug into his satchel and handed the Major the sealed letter. He then pulled out the two bags of coins and set them on the desk with a clink.

The Major cracked the seal on the letter and briefly scanned it with his eyes. "Alright, let's count it up." He then motioned towards Key to count the coins.

Key upturned the bags and dumped them on the table. He then began stacking the coins in piles of five and began counting: "Five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven...." He stopped. A coin was missing. He checked inside his satchel; there was nothing in there.

The Major calmly rescanned the letter in his hand, looking for the appropriate amount.

A bead of sweat formed on Key's forehead as he searched the bags and then the ground around the desk. There was nothing. He glanced at Singer, who stood stiffly off to the side.

"It says there's twenty-eight," the Major said. "It looks like you only have twenty-seven. Maybe there was a mistake?"

"I know it has to be here somewhere," Key said, nearly frantic with worry.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"I'm sure it is," the Major replied. "Corporal Singer, why aren't you helping look?"

Singer walked over to the desk, bent behind it, and pulled a gold royal up in his hand. "He must have dropped it when he was dumping out the bags," he stated matter-of-factly.

Key knew he didn't drop any coins. Furthermore, he had already checked the ground around the desk twice.

"Keen eye, Corporal," the Major praised. "You just saved your fellow corporal a lot of heartache."

"Thank you, sir," Singer replied.

Key stared daggers at Singer, who did not return the eye contact. Had he pilfered the coin when he was holding the coin purse?

"It looks like this is settled then," Key observed. "By your leave, sir?"

"Cary on smartly. Tell your captain that I'll be sending correspondence shortly."

"Yes, sir," Key said and then left.

The air cooled Key's face as he stepped outside. He had been sweating and for a good reason. Being in charge of so much money and then coming up short would mean terrible things for him. He tried remembering what Singer's hands were doing when he reached inside the purse to inspect one of the coins. He shouldn't have given it to him. He would have to be more careful next time.

He began taking the satchel off as he entered the office. He heard voices inside. He slung the satchel back on, pushed the door open, and saluted with a fist to his chest.

"Corporal Key, reporting back from orders, sir," he said formally.

"Ah, Corporal Key, come in." Captain Castor beckoned. "This is Major Thomas. He oversees public relations. I was just talking about how you were quintessential to ascertaining our rather large quantity of gold earlier."

Key dropped his salute and saluted the Major.

"At ease, Corporal," the Major said. "It sounds like you have a gift for investigations. I told the captain that I would have delivered the gold myself, being such an important package, but he assured me that you were the right man for the job. It turns out he was right."

"Thank you, sir," Key responded.

"It ought to be me who is thanking you. You made the Royal Guard look good out there," The Major said. "I'm keeping my eye on you. I expect great things."

"Yes, sir," Key replied gratefully.

"Charles, I'll see you around," the Major said as he stood to leave. "I almost forgot: Here's the two talents I owe you."

"Always a pleasure, Major," Castor said, standing in tandem and taking the money.

After the Major left, Castor collapsed in his chair.

"What was the money for?" Key asked.

"Oh, nothing," Castor said. "Sometimes we make friendly wagers over this or that. How did it go?"

"It turned out fine, but there was an issue. I might have dropped one of the coins on the ground," Key said, apprehensive to say what he actually thought happened.

"I think it's only natural delivering that much gold to have a shaky hand," Castor said. "I'm just glad you didn't decide to run off with it."

"The thought struck me once or twice," Key joked. "How far do you think I would have got?"

"I have no doubt you could have gone all the way and settled down somewhere in the country with plenty of acreage and lots of cows," Castor said. "Now, when are you planning on going to the training field? Or would you like to practice your letters first?"

"Actually, I wanted to discuss the five copper Marks I spent for the girl's bread today," Key admitted.

Castor's face lit up. "I am so happy you brought that up. Let me explain how that works," he tapped joyously on his desk with all his fingers.

"Frequently, we have to spend money in the name of service to the king. The king understands, the treasury understands, everyone understands. So, after spending money, just like you did today, you have to draft a monetary requisition letter."

"A what?" Key asked.

"It's a request letter for money. You just put the date, how much money you're asking for, why you're asking for the money, and any further information that could help the office of investigations - my office - investigate the validity of these requests. For instance, remember the uniforms you ordered and had the expenses billed to my office?"

Key nodded his head.

"As soon as that bill arrives, I will write a monetary requisition letter, take that letter to the treasury, and they will pay it. Now that I think about it, you'll be proficient enough to write one for the uniforms after you ask the bank for your five Marks back. You'll also have to deliver the letter, and probably deliver the money. Anyway, once every so often, we audit the requests and see what everyone's been up to. There have been times when I had to approach some of the other officers to tell them that "stocking your office with expensive wine every week is not an official expense and to stop trying to ruin it for everybody."

Key motioned for Castor to slow down. "Are you telling me that you can make requests for money based on facts that you, yourself, investigate the validity of?"

"That's right," Castor said, happy to have gotten through.

"Doesn't that create a, you know?" Key asked, trying to describe the word with his hands, but the best he could do was depict a pulsing ball.

"A conflict of interest?" Castor replied, guessing what the hand motion meant. "Absolutely."

"Does anybody know about it?" Key asked, feeling scandalized.

"We all know about it," Castor explained. "Royal City, in a way, operates on the honor system. I haven't done anything to warrant extra security measures, and I don't plan to. No one else wants it to be more strict either."

"Okay, where do I start?" Key asked.

"Remember when I told you every letter that you want to write has already been written?" Castor asked, not waiting for an answer. "It just so happens that I have a request for money over something very similar." He dug in a drawer, pulled out a creased letter with a broken seal attached, and handed it to Key. "There are some minor details you need to change. For instance, the date and the approximate time, and instead of "to purchase lunch while interviewing a suspect," put "to purchase bread for a thief to lure her into returning the thirty-some pieces of gold she stole. Make sure to put the Baker's address. The resolution should be, "She returned the gold." You got it?"

"I think so," Key said, dipping his quill to begin copying the letter. Shortly after, there was a knock on the door. Key began standing up.

"Oh, sit down," Castor said. "As long as you appear gainfully employed, you don't need to bother pretending to be alert. Enter!"

Key settled back into his seat as Corporal Singer entered.

"I have correspondence from Major Kane, sir," Singer announced handing Castor a letter. He remained at attention as Castor broke the blue seal with a snap and started reading.

"Excellent," Castor said. "You are dismissed."

"Yes, sir," Singer said and turned to leave. He turned his head to address Key, "Close call with that gold you nearly lost today. You're lucky I was there to find it," and then he left.

After a moment of silence, Castor spoke up. "I do believe that was a direct attack on you just now."

"You caught that too?" Key asked, setting his quill down.

"Yes," Castor said. "Not too much escapes me. I suspect he was hoping that was the first I heard about the incident, and he just nonchalantly told on you."

"What a prick," Key said.

"What a prick, indeed," Castor repeated. "If you want, as soon as you can swing a sword well, I can arrange a duel between you two. It could be a fun way to win some bets. He's taller than you, but I happen to know for a fact that he hasn't visited the training field a single day since he started working for the Major."

"That's not a bad idea," Key said, picking up his quill. "We'll see how my training goes. I'll try to get some extra sparring in."

An hour later, Key handed Castor the monetary acquisition letter he had written for his five Marks.

After scanning the letter, Castor let out a deep sigh. "I can look past the fact that it looks like it was written by a nine-year-old girl, no offense to young Marie, but there can be no mistakes. Do you remember the axiom that appearances create credibility? That applies to every aspect of this office, especially its correspondence. You crossed out three words and misspelled "Acquisition." It's the second word the treasury will read! You'll have to redo this; try to go slower next time."

There was a knock at the door, and Castor gave the command to enter.

A small boy with a dirty face walked in with a piece of paper. "A letter from Gretta's, sir."

"It seems your uniforms are done," Castor said, reading over the paper.

"She did say she had extras on hand," Key remembered.

The boy cleared his throat.

Castor reached into his drawer, pulled out two copper Marks, and handed them to the boy.

"Pleasure as always, sir!" the boy said, and left.

"I'll also need Acquisitions for the two Marks for the delivery boy and the uniforms, of course," Castor said. "Practice makes perfect."

Key made a list of the letters he would need to write and then stood up. "I'm going hit the training ground."

"Very well," Castor said. "Swing by and pick up those uniforms first, Gretta will let you have them. I'm sick of hearing you clink around in that armor anyway. When you're finished, take the rest of the day off; we have a big day tomorrow. Care to make any bets on whether our pickpocket takes my offer for a better life or makes a run for it?"

"I think he'll go for the better life," Key said. "He has his sister to think about."

"I would gladly lose a silver piece to see those two make a better life for themselves," Castor said.

"I'm not betting a full talent," Key nearly yelled. "I'll bet the five Marks I'm writing an acquisition for and not an empty hole more. That means I can't pay you until I get it from the treasury if Crumb walks, deal?"

"That's a wager," Castor said, leaning back in his chair. "One I hope to lose."