Amelia shifted uneasily, her eyes darting between Roy and Rick. “I don’t know what you are…” she muttered, stepping back defensively, her hand brushing the hilt of her knife.

“Then allow me,” Rick interjected, his tone gruff but steady. He plucked the metallic flower from Roy’s grasp and tucked it into Amelia’s front pocket with surprising gentleness. “He’s the reason you’re alive.”

“He’s a weapon?” she asked, suspicion lacing her voice.

Rick’s jaw tightened, his brows knitting together. “He’s my… son. Now take a good look.”

Amelia hesitated, her skepticism giving way to curiosity. Slowly, she released the knife, letting it slip back into her pocket, and studied Roy more closely. Her sharp gaze traveled over his squared, makeshift body, his head fashioned from repurposed headlights, and the way his mouth moved without lips yet somehow conveyed expression. Roy’s tall frame was rigid yet oddly human, his exaggerated movements accompanied by the metallic jingles and creaks reminiscent of mining bots in the Conkle Mines.

“I have many questions,” Amelia admitted, a note of disbelief in her voice. “Yerro’s grace… What have you done, Rick?”

Before Rick could answer, Roy stepped forward, his movements deliberate yet protective. He raised a hand, pointing toward the vast sky behind her. “Our mission now is to meet with Bolton and his guardian soon. All will be explained,” he stated with mechanical calm.

Rick rested a hand on Roy’s shoulder, glancing at him with a mix of pride and concern. He turned back to Amelia, his voice softening. “Listen to Roy. For now, the story is that you were some monster’s expensive snack. Locals thought you brought that creature to the county of Little Creek, as it… allegedly whispered your name—‘Amelia’—while wreaking havoc. Best lean into the lie and let ‘em assume you were eaten.”

Amelia’s brow furrowed, her skepticism returning. “What kind of creature whispers names? Worse, my name? Local hogwash.”

“I verified it myself,” Rick replied, tapping a metallic finger to his temple. “The locals were furious. Their shops, farms, lives… all destroyed. If Roy and I hadn’t found you collapsed, they’d have hanged you on the spot. To make matters worse, the creature vanished without a trace, leaving them with only you to blame.”

“So your solution was to knock me out?” Amelia challenged, her voice sharp.

“Roy put on a convincing show,” Rick admitted, scratching the back of his head. “We needed ‘em to think we were arresting you. A few well-placed weapon demonstrations helped… diffuse their anger.”

“According to Rick, you needed MARBLES,” Roy added innocently.

Amelia snorted, despite herself. “Ah, yes. That explains this searing headache,” she muttered, rubbing her temple. Her hand lingered near her knife, though she refrained from drawing it again. “What’s this mission, then?”

“Crowny, we did what we had to,” Rick said with a nervous chuckle, trying to steer the conversation. “Now, let’s move on. It’s in the past.”

“It’s in the past,” Amelia mimicked, exaggerating his southern drawl. “Attempted murder can’t just be ‘in the past’! This has to be connected to some royal dogwater.”

“Bullshit,” Roy chimed in, his tone matter-of-fact.

Amelia burst into laughter, winking at Roy. “Exactly. Bullshit!” She turned back to Rick, her expression sobering. “And now what? You’ve come to save me? With your son the robot? On an airship more expensive than a whole Quadrant? Did New Dwarden fund this?”

Rick’s metallic limbs hissed as he moved closer, his eyes narrowing. “Not quite. A-”

“Not quite?” Amelia snapped back. “More mysteries?”

“Listen Crowny. This Pappy Long Leg’s mine, built with my hands, my scraps, and my damn ingenuity. You’re alive because we made choices. Hard ones. Now, you wanna question ‘em, fine. But don’t you dare belittle what’s keepin’ you breathing.”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“You know, you’re suspiciously sounding like someone who’d kidnap an ex-royal,” Amelia snapped, her words sharp and biting.

Rick’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Maybe I am. But let’s consider the save your life part? Ah? You don’t have to like it, but you’re here now.”

“No, no, no! Wait. What’s the plan? Send a monster, save me?” Her voice rose with indignation as she gestured toward Roy. “Then whisk me away with an automaton you call your son—made from some illegal spirit deal? And now what? A grand adventure? Do you realize how wicked you sound?”

Rick’s expression hardened, his metallic limbs creaking as he crossed his arms. “I gain nothin’ from killin’ someone who can’t even be Queen, Crowny,” he replied coolly. “That tattoo on your neck has your fate written all over it—a signature from the wanderin’ past.”

Amelia’s eyes narrowed. “The only reason I’m even listening to you is because your bread tastes familiar.”

“Best believe choices are gettin’ harder for both of us,” Rick replied, his voice steady but laced with frustration.

Roy shifted slightly, his glowing eyes flickering as he stepped forward. “There is much I don’t understand either, Amelia Woltwork,” he said, his tone surprisingly calm. “My body operates with a human heart. I carry human abilities. I’ve heard Rick use the word ‘atrocity’ before.”

“By the green, how?” Rick asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“When I was… conceived,” Roy replied, hesitating. “Or birthed. Created.” it’s voice faltered, but he pushed on. “Outside of your desire to place me in this metallic vessel, I somehow heard you say it.”

Rick’s jaw tightened, his gaze dropping to the floor.

“How—how did you know that?” Amelia asked, her voice softer now, tinged with disbelief.

“Description: Rick shed tears,” Roy said simply. “Water. Like a human. While he no longer possesses his heart—because he has given it to me—he shed water. Prognosis: This does not sound ‘wicked,’ correct?”

Amelia exhaled heavily, the weight of Roy’s words pressing on her. “Roy,” she said, her voice filled with an ache she couldn’t hide. “Do you even know what you are?”

“No,” Roy replied, his tone steady. “But I feel a strong belonging with Rick. He does not feel like the creature that attacked you. Not like any animal. My objective: protect you. Maybe you could trust me.”

Amelia’s gaze locked with Roy’s, the tension between them palpable. Her defiance flickered for a moment before the weight of his sincerity settled over her. She looked down, her hands brushing the tattered fabric of her shirt and the scorched edges of her boots.What kind of man willingly ties his soul to a machine? What kind of desperation drives someone to that point? The thought was as unsettling as it was sad.

“Fine,” she muttered. “But the knife stays ready.”

Rick let out a long sigh, the tension in the air easing just slightly. “Trust comes later,” he said. “Survival comes first.”

Roy stepped forward again, his glowing eyes flickering. “Rick is my father. Our souls are tied to one another. Rick said, without one, the other cannot exist.”

Amelia’s eyes widened, the implications sinking in. “Who allowed such a condition? Contracts with spirits are strictly regulated and are almost impossible to fulfill…” She paused, her voice softening.

“Rat's ass on who allowed it,” Rick replied, waving her apology away. “What matters is we’re here.”

Amelia frowned but said nothing, her mind spinning with questions she wasn’t ready to voice. She turned to Roy. “Log a reminder to finish this conversation later.”

“CONVERSATION logged,” Roy responded dutifully.

Rick let out a dry laugh. “Learning to be human from two very social and palpable ones, I see.”

Amelia smirked, the tension finally beginning to dissipate. She reached for another piece of Morsha bread, the familiar flavor grounding her. Memories of her father’s tales about the Primarian Hammers surfaced unbidden, filling the silence as she chewed.

“This is complicated. However, there's something I do remember,” she said finally. “You repair Yerro's heart. Top secret, right?”

Rick’s expression darkened. “I’m one of the few left.”

“Where are the others?” Amelia asked, her voice quiet.

Rick hesitated, his gaze drifting. “Seeing to an emergency. If… they’re still alive.”

“What emergency?” she pressed.

“We’re not sure yet,” Roy interjected. “But the creature that attacked you might just be the beginning.”

Amelia’s grip tightened on the bread. “In the mines, we saw monsters. Big ones. Some were ghost-like; others were just… bigger, nastier versions of what we’d seen before. But nothing like that thing.”

Rick nodded grimly. “That thing wasn’t just a monster. It was a message. Something so ugly with so much purpose.”

Amelia’s gaze shifted to the horizon, the clouds stretching endlessly before them. A message from whom? Or worse, for whom? She didn’t ask. The answer would come soon enough.