Markus didn’t know exactly how much time had passed since Dexter had ordered him into a cell. He had been served three meals, so he figured it was at least into the next day. Markus had taken every opportunity to eat and sleep, and had even spent some time in the microscopic drab four wall room they’d put him in doing what he could to exercise his body. Mostly though, he’d just sprawled out on the small cot available and wondered how Adar was doing as a new Cadet.
He certainly remembered his first weeks like they were yesterday. Everyone had known who he was, so he had gotten a lot of cold shoulders, insults, and outright hostility from everyone from the teachers on down to his own classmates. No one could understand why a king’s son would sign up for the Protectorate Program. Most thought that Markus was pulling some elaborate joke at the College’s expense.
Some had guessed correctly that it had a lot to do with Markus chaffing under the demands of his station. Markus had never wanted to be a king, and he resented everything that had forced him into that role. He had even told his father flat out that he wasn’t going to do it at the age of eighteen, and instead of beginning the successor training as expected, ran away and joined the Vanguard.
But his father headed the twelve Kingdoms’ military force, and with barely trying, within five years Markus had found himself a Chief Commander and leading whole platoons of Guardians. Markus still wasn’t sure if that had been because he was actually good at what he did, or from heavy influence by his father to load Markus up with as much responsibility as possible ergo proving he was capable of leading a kingdom. Well, Markus’s answer to that had been to resign his commission and head for Sora X.
In joining the Protectorate, Markus had finally been able get out from under his father’s direct control, and the man’s not so subtle attempts at manipulating Markus to come back to the role his father wanted him in. Yes, the College was in his father’s Kingdom, but he had no real sway over the Directors of the College, except maybe an occasional favor or two. And Markus had known that the Directors would remind the King of that when he undoubtedly tried to intervene on Markus’s behalf.
The Protectorate might serve the leaders of the Empire, but it was those who ran the College who best decided how to do that. It had been that way for centuries, and the Directors weren’t going to let even their patron king stepped all over what they had proven worked to produce the best of the best in protection and close combat for generations.
It was in Markus’s favor that the College had no rules about high borns entering the program, at least not when Markus had signed up. But then, he doubted the idea that a high born would even want to be in the Program had ever crossed their minds.
Once Markus told them his intention to enroll, it had caused a ruckus as the Pledges signing everyone in had to stop what they were doing to run the unexpected “problem” to Command. That had been Markus’s first trip the the administration building and he had endured two straight hours of questions from two Directors and three very perplexed officers of why he was attempting to enroll in the Program. In the end, they let the enrollment stand, but with the stipulation that he got no special treatment. And for the first time in his life, Markus Nador was treated like any normal citizen of the Empire, because even his Vanguard years had not allowed him that distinction in totality.
Markus had to admit that at first, the difference had been an extremely jarring one. He had expected things to be hard, but not quite on that level. He found that there were no helpful servants or eager fellow Cadets to fetch him something that he needed. There were no mass selections of food available to him night or day. He ate at the time slot given to him and the food available were he was assigned to eat, and that was it. And for a man who always loved his food, that had been one of the hardest changes to overcome.
As the eldest son of one of the more prominent Kings of the Empire, Markus had also gotten used to people obeying when he gave an order or listening when he spoke. At the College, Cadets weren’t able to give orders to anyone and were aggressively encouraged to listen more than to speak.
And, of course, his whole experience was made worse by the hard time everyone was giving him. For the first few months, Markus had no friends, not a soul who would help him, or even have so much as a conversation with him outside of his teachers’ instructions. Markus was truly alone for the first time in his life.
It was only after he preserved and stayed even in the face of all the adversity and still was able to learn and excel in his classes that people started to treat him differently. Some even came to respect him. People like Gayle and a few of his instructors, and apparently Captain Dexter too who hadn’t even been at the College for the time Markus had been in the Program.
He knew that Adar would have an easier time of it because no one knew who he really was. That was certainly in his favor, and would be the biggest factor in keeping him safe too. Markus just hoped Adar would not be too mad at him for throwing him into such a hard way of living. At least it was only going to be a few days. Surely, he could manage that long, at least Markus hoped so.
He was jolted out of his thoughts as the door to his cell slid open. Markus sat up on his bed when he saw the person standing in the doorway. He wasn’t surprised at all to see him, in fact, Markus had been expecting this encounter the moment he’d concocted this plan.
“Nathias, good to see you so soon. Guess you really have been missing me.”
The other man came into the cell and the door swished closed behind him. Markus’s old friend did not look amused. “This isn’t a social visit and you know it. Where is he, Markus?”
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He looked up to the towering figure of his friend and smirked, knowing it would annoy him. “Where is who?”
A stormy look crossed the other man’s face, and Markus felt a small twinge at his little joke. He knew Nathais was only doing his job, but it still chaffed that his best friend had stayed under his father’s control instead of leaving the Vanguard when Markus had. “Yavit, Markus. This isn’t a game. Your father is really upset.”
Markus snorted. “When is he not upset?”
“I think having the Emperor’s wrath coming down on his head makes this a little more serious than usual.”
Markus narrowed his eyes at the man still glowering down at him. “Why is he blaming pavi? Adar wasn’t under his care.”
“No, but the Heir is in his Kingdom, and the Emperor heard about your father’s visit to the College before Adar got here, and how he persuaded Command to ask you to come back. And then you end up abducting the Prince. So yeah, the Emperor’s putting a sizable part of the blame on your father, and you, of course.”
Markus sat back as he grimaced. Yes, he knew the Emperor would jump in and throw his weight around as soon as he heard about what happened to Adar. He just wasn’t expecting it to be quite like that. Though, Markus should have guessed this would be the way of it. The relationship between his father and the Emperor had grown noticeable cooler over the years. It would just be like Ghar Zahn to put blame on his father, even if he was completely without fault.
“I know we haven’t been on the best of terms for awhile, but this isn’t me trying to get pavi in trouble. I’d appreciate it if you let him know that.” Normally, Markus wouldn’t care one way or another if his father was having difficulties with other high borns, but having the anger of the Emperor coming down on you was another thing entirely. Markus wouldn’t wish that on most people, except for Zorren, which was kind of the whole point of this entire plan.
Nathias spread his arms as if he was trying to make some sort of peace offering between them. “Then tell me where Adar is and I can take him to the Emperor and settle all this.”
Markus felt a surge of disappointment in Nathias. Was he really so dense that he didn’t see what was really going on? Nathias knew Markus better than most, surely he should have guessed that Markus wouldn’t be sitting in a jail cell for no reason at all. But apparently that hadn’t occurred to him, because Nathias seemed too focus on trying to complete his orders.
Markus pursed his lips. “Sorry, can’t do that.”
“And why not?”
Markus shrugged. “It will mess up the plan.”
Nathias raised an eyebrow. “The plan? And what exactly is that?”
He made a show of looking around the room, and then back at his friend pointedly. “Sorry, can’t say.”
Understanding lit up in Nathias’s golden eyes, he stood there for a long moment, and then waved to Markus to stand up. “Fine, then let’s get you out of here, and we can have a nice long talk.”
Markus didn’t move. Did he get it, yet? Like really get it? Or did Nathias just think that their conversation was not as private as it should be? “No.”
Nathias gave Markus a puzzled look. “No?” And why not?”
Markus shrugged. “It will mess up the plan.”
His friend sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Markus, I really don’t have time for your games. I need you to cooperate with me and tell me where Adar is.”
Markus wanted to let out a sigh of frustration himself. How obvious did he need to be? Markus had considered sending his friend some of their private hand signals they’d created in the Vanguard to talk around others while on duty, but Markus suspected his every move was being watched by others through hidden cameras the moment he’d been stuffed in this cell. They couldn’t even suspect that Markus was trying to send his friend a message. So he crossed his hands over his chest and stared up at the Vanguard Arch-Major like he was the true enemy.
“I’m sorry, Nathias, but I can’t do that. You might as well leave. You won’t get anything out of me.”
Markus punctuated the point by suddenly swinging his legs around and laying back on his bed. He closed his eyes as if trying to go to sleep. Markus felt a pair of hands yank him out of the bed. His eyes flew open to find his friend’s red face close to his nose.
“I don’t know what you have going on here,” Nathias growled, “but this stops now. You are putting the life of the Heir in jeopardy. You know, that old friend of yours that you’ve been so hung up about since he left twenty years ago. Where is he damn you?”
Markus considered not saying anything at all. It would be better for the plan. If those watching suspected that Markus had told Nathias were to find Adar, then they’d be putting their attention and resources to following Nathias, not coming after Markus. But he knew his friend would be an asset, especially when the identity of all those trying to harm Adar came to light, so he had to at least give the man fair warning.
“Give me two days, Nathias.” Markus muttered between his lips, but he kept a heated glare on his face like he wanted to murder his friend. “That’s all I’m asking. Just two days, then I will take you to Adar myself.”
Nathias hadn’t even batted an eye at the words, and he was quick to respond with a whisper of his own. “And what about the two days? You can’t do anything for him if you are locked up in here.”
His friend had the front of Markus’s black shirt grasped tightly in his hands, which he used it to give Markus a violent shake, and then Nathias spoke with his normal voice so the recording devices could clearly hear. “I mean it Markus, you better come clean. Your father isn’t messing around on this.”
Markus just glowered, but under his breath he replied. “I promise that he’s safe were he is, and if something does happen, I have trustworthy people who can help him. Nathias, I wouldn’t ask this of you if it weren’t important. I just need two days.”
Nathias hesitated for a long time. Almost too long, and Markus worried that he wouldn’t keep playing along. Finally, the man released Markus and backed up to give him some space.
“Fine, don’t tell me. But if something happens to him, it’s on you. And you can be sure your father will know about this. He might just come out here himself, and I know you don’t want that.”
His friend then turned and marched for the exit. The door swished open, but Nathias stopped in the threshold and turned to give Markus one last look. “I hope you know what you are doing.” His words clear with their double meaning. The man then walked out and the door closed behind him.
Markus adjusted himself after the rough handling of his friend. He sat down heavily on his bed and noticed his hands were shaking. Markus was pretty sure Nathias had just been acting there at the end, but even still it made him realize how far their friendship had fallen if he couldn’t even be sure about that. He missed his friend. Yavit, Markus missed a lot of things, but then no one had pushed Markus down the road he’d decided to travel. He’d walked down it willingly.
He laid back down on his bed and stared up at the drab and dirty ceiling above him as a pang of loneliness echoing inside. When at Cresta, Markus had busied himself with training, fighting, or large amounts of drinking. He had none of those options here, so he closed his eyes and wished for sleep. And as he settled in for what he hoped was a long comatose nap, he breathed in barely a whisper. “Yeah, me too.”