Five Days Earlier

“Look, Mr. Caskbrew—”

“Camdyn.”

Jaina tilted her head and frowned. Resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“Mr. Caskbrew, I sympathize with you. I do. But the fact is, you broke the rule. The One Rule. And you knew the repercussions.”

Camdyn Caskbrew, a big hulk of a man, sat behind the steel bars of the jail cell in the Solicitor’s Office. His hands shackled in front of him, Camdyn wore an expression of utter despair and sadness. He wasn’t pleading. Not yet. But Jaina knew that was coming.

“But, listen,” he said, trying to maintain a calm and steady voice. Jaina was always willing to “listen.” It was the least she could do, given the predicament those brought into the office found themselves in. And what they were facing. But even though she was young and relatively inexperienced as a Deputy Solicitor, she knew that whatever Camdyn was about to say was futile. She had a job to do, and absolution wasn’t part of it.

She was, by many accounts, a strikingly beautiful woman. Her bright blonde hair had no hint of brown, making it appear golden and glowing in certain lights. Her green eyes, quite rare, should have clashed with that hair. Instead, they gave her a unique, compelling appearance that often drew looks of either longing or envy.

Despite her beauty—or, perhaps, because of it—Jaina was self-assured and confident. She could have coasted on her looks alone, but she was uninterested in such trivialities. She had bigger, more important things in mind.

“It was just a bar fight,” he said. “A bar fight! You know how many bar fights I been in? How many fights there are in dat bar alone? Every night?”

“I’m sorry, Mr.—”

“Listen!” He rose to his feet and raised his hands. Despite the bars separating them, Jaina took a step back. “The Peacekeepah’s, dey usually just shrug it off, ya know? Give ya’s a warning and so forth, maybe keep an extra eye on ya. I don’t know what was up their craw that night. Whatever it was, it wasn’t worth dis. Ya know? Being sent down river an’ such.”

“You’re leaving out an important detail,” Jaina said, her momentary fear evaporating. “Aren’t you?”

Camdyn sighed. Raised his hands in the air. Opened his mouth. Exhaled heavily… Then sat back down on the bench with a defeated thud.

“Somebody got hurt, didn’t they?” she continued. “And not just a bloody nose. You broke a man’s arm.”

“Yeah,” he said softly, looking at the floor. “I know.”

“Look, I can’t control what happens out there. That’s up to the Peacekeepers and the citizens, should they choose to report a crime. But once you make your way to this office… well, then it isn’t really up to me, is it? Your being here means that decision has already been made. My job is simply to inform you of your rights and prepare you for what’s going to happen next.”

“Yeah, but...” He rose to his feet again, his face lighting up with hope. “Youse guys have let people off the hook before, right? It’s not like you can’t let me off the hook. You could if you wanted to. Right?”

Jaina shrugged. “Solicitors have that right, yes. And it has been exercised. But not by me, I’m afraid. Like I said, you make it this far, I have to figure you deserved to get here. So, I take you to the Elders and let them decide whether you go before the Godknight or not.”

“And I got the hard-nosed one,” he mumbled. “Just my luck.”

“And we’ve already visited the Elders, haven’t we?” she asked, ignoring his comment. She was getting preachy and a little condescending, she knew. But she brushed that thought aside. She believed in the ideal of Brightholme, the people’s way of life, the one simple rule, and the Godknight. It was a privilege to be a part of it.

Camdyn’s head hung even lower. His shoulders began to bob up and down. Heaving sobs soon followed.

Jaina turned to leave. “I’ll be back in an hour. We’ll visit the Godknight then.”

She had just placed her hand on the door handle when she heard Camdyn speak, so softly she had to strain to hear his words.

“I got kids.”

That stung a bit. She believed in the system… but that didn’t make her heartless.

She left the room without another word.

The Solicitor’s Office was a medium-sized stone building located on the northern edge of Safehaven, unremarkable by design. The people knew it was there, knew its purpose. But they didn’t want to dwell on it or be constantly reminded of its existence. Thus, it was tucked away, out of view from the majority of the city’s traffic.

The Office comprised four Solicitors. The High Solicitor, an Aeonic woman named Nai Kaon, had been there since the office was first established nearly fifty years ago. She had been the only one, at first.

In the early days of Brightholme’s existence, the Godknight personally oversaw each and every case of someone breaking his “live in peace” rule. If you broke it, he somehow just “knew.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

He was not omniscient or omnipotent. But he was close. And when it came to his home—the home he built—of Brightholme, he was always alert. Nobody escaped his gaze, or his judgment.

As the decades passed, the Godknight began delegating some of his responsibility to the Elders, the small group of Aeonics who were as close to a governing board as Brightholme had. The accused would first be presented before them, and they would decide if the case merited bringing to the Godknight.

More decades passed, and as with many things, so too did the Elders’ interest in adjudicating these cases. Thus, the Solicitor’s Office was created and the highly respected Nai was appointed. Even though the so-called “crime rate” never really changed in Brightholme, eventually she deemed it necessary to add two more Solicitors to the office, both Aeonic. Six months ago she appointed the first Deputy Solicitor, the whip smart, ambitious Jaina Whisperwind.

Jaina, at twenty, took to the job immediately. She was a believer, and although she took no real pleasure from seeing people lose their citizenship and be sent downriver, she also never hesitated in carrying out the punishment when it was handed down.

Camdyn Caskbrew, a nice enough man, was no exception.

She was living by the rule. Why shouldn’t everyone else?

Jaina left Camdyn in his jail cell with little more than a fleeting sense of sadness. For him or his children. They’d be heading to Godknight Tower shortly, and she didn’t expect it to go well for the man.

The office was quiet this morning; Camdyn was the only one up for Adjudication. The rest of the Solicitors were off, which to Jaina was a considerable compliment. They already had enough confidence in her to let her manage this case solo.

She gave a wave to the new office clerk, a girl named Seree who was even younger than Jaina. Seree waved back, her beaming smile lighting up the room. Jaina was delighted to see it; someone else, like her, who was passionate about her work. And from what she’d observed of Seree, she was capable as well. She’d do well here.

Jaina stepped outside, just to breathe some fresh air. And walked face-first into the barrel chest of the man who had been about to enter.

“Oh!” she said, startled.

“Sorry, miss,” he said. She looked up at him and met his eyes. My, they were nice. A warm hazel. His blond hair was cut short, almost a crop top, lending him an unmistakable air of authority.

The Peacekeeper’s uniform didn't hurt either.

“Oh,” she said, putting her hand to her chest. “Don’t apologize, good sir. It was entirely my fault.”

“I know. I was just being polite.”

She slapped him playfully on that solid chest of his. “Well, maybe you should be sorry.”

“Should I? And what should I be sorry for?”

Jaina frowned, tapped her hand against her cheek. “I don’t know. I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

He chuckled. “Doubt it. I’m pretty perfect.”

Jaina laughed. “Yeah, yeah. Fine. You are perfect.” She stood on her tiptoes, pursing her lips towards him. He leaned down and met them with his own. She threw her hands over his shoulders, around his neck. He picked her up off the ground with ease, spinning her in a quick circle. She let out a little shriek of glee.

“Okay, okay,” she said. “Put me down. Someone might see.”

He obliged. “It’s not like it’s a secret, Jaina.”

“It’s just not befitting of my station.”

He raised one eyebrow. “Your station.”

“Yes! My station! You got a problem with my station, bucko?”

He bent down and sneaked in one more quick kiss. “I got no problems at all with you, Miss Whisperwind.”

Jaina closed her eyes dreamily. “Not for much longer,” she said softly. “I can’t believe I’m going to be Mrs. Jaina Steelfist.”

“It’s a good name,” Stegran told her.

“It is. For a big ol’ tough guy like you. But I’m half your size. Do I look like a ‘steel fist’?”

“You look beautiful. And you’ll be the greatest Steelfist in the history of Steelfists.”

“I’m telling your mother you said that.”

His eyes widened, a brief flash of genuine terror crossing his face. “Don’t you dare!”

Jaina laughed heartily. Gods, how she loved this man.

“Fine, fine.”

Stegran gestured towards the office behind her. “Your guy ready?”

She shrugged. “As he’ll ever be. He tried to pull the old ‘I got kids’ one on me. As if it’s up to me to decide.”

Stegran sighed and shook his head. “You know, I’ve broken up probably half of that guy’s bar fights. They all ended up with the guys laughing and hugging in the end. It’s really a shame. He’s a sweet guy.”

Jaina rolled her eyes. “Steg, he broke the man’s arm! How is that living in peace?”

“I don’t know, Jaina,” he said. “Can’t you cut the guy a break? I mean, we do it all the time. Hugrib, the broken arm guy? He wasn’t even mad. He’s more upset that this is happening to his bar buddy.”

Jaina took a step back and looked up at him with stern eyes. “You know better than to ask me that. It’s not my decision. It’s the Godknight’s.”

“I know, I know. But—”

She held up one finger. “One rule. One rule, Stegran Steelfist. You can do literally anything else you want to in Brightholme, live whatever kind of life you want here. So long as you follow that one, simple rule.”

“Live in peace,” he mumbled. He knew he was going to lose this argument.

“Hey,” she said softly, recognizing her soon-to-be husband’s disappointment. “Maybe he’ll go easy on him. It happens, right?”

“Sometimes.”

“And this man, Camdyn. He makes a pretty good case for himself. Who knows? Maybe he’ll get off with just a…” she lowered her voice, attempting to make it deep and intimidating. “But I’m going to keep an eye on you, Camdyn Caskbrew.”

“Not sure that’s better,” Stegran said.

She took his hand. “Come on. We have a little time before we have to take him down there. How about I introduce you to our new clerk?”

She rose back on her tiptoes, pursed her lips for one last quick kiss. She got it, swooned for the briefest of moments, then headed back into the office.