The madness that has suddenly overcome Magistrate Lorenzo becomes the talk of the castle, and Eleanor Ambrose’s trial is postponed indefinitely.

The Palatine guards tell Eleanor she may stretch her legs around the castle under supervision if she chooses, but Eleanor politely declines and tells them she wishes to remain in her room undisturbed.

The knights give her a courteous bow and close the door, where the Devil quickly sheds his skin, seals the door, and heads out to play.

The Devil has spent the last few days exploring the Merino Stronghold, and he took particular interest in observing Page Julius June and Squire Raelyn Reed’s routine.

What he finds is that Julius is incredibly ill-suited for his job. The boy is often slacking in cleaning the castle grounds and running errands, preferring instead to watch the squires train in the field. This fact alone makes him an outcast among the pages, and he always gets yelled at by his superiors.

But he is diligent when it comes to maintaining the knight’s equipment: swords, armor, and the like. And the horses all seem to like him. Julius would be more suited working in stables or the armory, but those duties belong to the squire of each knight—and there isn’t a single knight who is interested in taking a short, weak boy like Julius under their wing.

So the boy can only yearn for what he can’t have and secretly trains his wooden sword late into the night.

He also has to bear the constant harassment from Squire Raelyn.

The boyish girl has the uncanny ability to sniff Julius out when he’s near, where she will drop everything and head to make his life a living hell. She mocks him, hits him, belittles him—all the while, having a sadistic glee in her eyes.

“Ah, young love. How sentimental,” the Devil says.

“You call that love, Ms. Eleanor? She’s taking joy in causing him misery!” Donna says.

“Love, Freckles, comes in many forms: motherly love, tender love, obsessive love—and even the ecstasy you feel when you cut a man in half, head to scrotum, is love.”

“You’re insane!”

“I’m sensible … and so is she.” The Devil smiles at Raelyn. “Girl knows what she wants and knows how to get it. Her methods, however, can use some refinement. Hehehe!”

The Devil climbs up a stone pillar on all four, all lizard-like, and slithers across the age-worn roof tiles. He stalks Raelyn throughout the day, observing her behavior, thinking about how he should approach her—and what form he should approach her in.

Raelyn Reed, when she’s not busy bullying young Julius, is quite the diligent squire. She spends most of her day training in the field, practicing her sword swings. Her coarse palm holds the sword easily with one hand, and her light feet dance around the wooden dummy with grace. Her strikes connect with only the vital areas, quick and easy—and would be lethal had the dummy been a real person. Although some strikes overshoot, as if she’s more used to handling shorter weapons.

Unlike young Julius, who is a loner, Raelyn is seen exchanging pleasantries with the other squires, and even some priests and servants. She always has an easy, professional smile on her face, and is equally polite to everybody—well, everybody besides Julius, that is.

But still, you can’t help but feel like there is this wall around her that keeps her conversations short, and her friends at arm’s length. Looking at her may remind one of a certain someone.

“My my, she’s just like me, for real for real. No wonder I like her.”

Donna snorts at the Devil’s words.

“What? Don’t you think she’s just like me when I was bullying Blondie, while at the same time acting all cutesy like—”

“I know what you’re referring to, you horrible thing! I was there!”

“Temper, temper, Freckles. Don’t burst a vein just because it’s that time of the month.”

Donna screams angrily to the Devil’s amusement.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Meanwhile, Raelyn spots Julius, once again, peaking at the training ground while moving his mop around. She grins and makes a beeline for the boy, but she is suddenly stopped in her tracks by a passing nun.

The nun whispers a few words to Raelyn, which makes the girl’s face turn cold. Then the nun walks away as fast as she came.

The girl who is left standing there glances at the silver-haired page in the distance, before heading in another direction.

“Hello? This is new,” the Devil says. “Do you smell that, Freckles? There’s a plot brewing right under our noses.”

“I’m not talking to you.”

“Temper, temper.” The Devil smirks and quickly follows Raelyn.

Squire Raelyn Reed leaves the training grounds, setting her course for a church. It’s not the imposing cathedral in the main square, but a smaller, secluded one tucked away behind the castle, right on the cliff edge.

Raelyn pauses to look back, checking if she is being followed. She spots an old nun quietly sweeping leaves at a distance. Raelyn regards her carefully for a moment, then gives one more vigilant scan around the area before going into the church.

As soon as the church door shuts, the nun springs atop the church with incredible agility and sneaks in through the bell tower.

In the shadow high above, the Devil observes the near-empty hall below.

A slender middle-aged nun is praying at the altar. Raelyn Reed walks up behind her and stands there silently.

After a long wait, the nun finishes her prayer and speaks without turning around:

“Don’t stand there unceremoniously, child. Announce yourself when you’re in my presence.”

Raelyn bows and says, “This lowly one greets Mother Superior Selah. May the lord’s light forever guide your path.”

“Why are you here?”

“To serve and obey.”

“Who do you obey?”

“I obey my lord.”

“Who is your lord?”

“He who burns when the world sleeps. He who speaks in three tongues. He who shall guide us past the end times.”

“What do your lord commands?”

“My lord commands absolution, and it shall be done.”

“It shall be done.”

The mother-superior turns around. Her face is stern and mean, and her eyes burn silently like pale fire. She reaches her long fingers to grip Raelyn’s face and turns it side-to-side.

“You’re still an ugly little thing.” She sneers. “Ugly things have limited usage. Why haven’t you inherited your mother’s look yet, or have your father’s blood taint you beyond redemption?”

“... I will try my best to improve my looks, Mother Superior.”

“Your best isn’t good enough. No matter.” She releases Raelyn. “I suppose an ugly tool may come in handy when the situation calls for it. Those sand apes are starting to act up after the desert king’s … disappearance. So your dark countenance may still be of use when it comes to dealing with the rebellious elements within their ranks. But now, we need to focus on the task at hand.”

Mother Superior Selah looks toward the stained glass window portraying a purple star shining in the night sky. She sneers at it.

“A weak god does not deserve worship, only disdain. One day, these halls shall be converted to the image of our lord. Until then, we must act out his commands.” She turns to Raelyn. “Tell me, do you know what goes on beyond these walls, child?”

“As a squire, my network of information is limited, but I have heard whispers of … rumbling in the capital.”

“It’s those damnable cultists.”

“... Eleanor Ambrose worshippers.”

“Indeed. They have taken to the streets to protest. And it’s not only the capital, but everywhere from the cold north down to Sangria—crowds gather like bugs before our churches, demanding their leader’s immediate release. In retaliation, the church’s faithful form a counter-protest, and the two mobs are locked in brewing conflict.”

“What is the government’s stance?”

“Outwardly, they try to maintain peace between the two sides, but in private, they are also demanding we hand the Ambrose child into their custody. High Priest Lionel is holding up that front, but with how things are unfolding, the situation could very well escalate into a violent conflict with the Ambrose child at the center.”

“Just as our lord foreseen.”

“Indeed.” Mother Superior Selah reaches into her robe and takes out a black knife. She holds it before Raelyn, who has her head hung low and both palms outstretched. “Our lord demands a civil war, and it is our duty to carry out his vision. Be grateful, child, for you shall be one of the sparks that light the fuse. Prepare yourself. Soon, you shall have the opportunity to prove yourself to our great master, and his Antediluvian!”

High above, the Devil is yawning.

“This is either a small world or Junior is working overtime to mess with me. Whatever the case may be … I can definitely use this.” The Devil grins with a red gleam in his eyes. “Remember this, Junior, what yours is mine—and I always get what I want—or my name isn’t Adrian Acker, the Devil! Hehehehe! Mwa hahahaha!”

“Wait, you’re Adrian Acker, Ms. Eleanor?!”

“Oh … I kinda forgot you were here … I’m not going to hear the end of this, am I?”