Aziz looked at his white, flimsy robes unhappily. His uniform, like Marie’s, had been removed while they were unconscious, and when they pressed the caretaker assigned to them, he had been informed that they were being washed. It was a good, well-meaning gesture on the part of Rene, but it didn’t stop him from feeling a bit out of place.

The uniform of Ark City — and now that of the Republic — was something that made up his identity. For much of his life, he’d worn attire that was related to the military. Even when he was out and having fun with Marie, back in the East, his attire was still something close to that of his military uniform, just it was made to look nicer.

Something like a bathrobe didn’t really go well with him. It was too light for his liking, and…

Well, in summary, it didn’t provide him with the sort of security he wanted. The uniforms of high-ranking officers were recently updated, and most of them were now last-resort artefacts that could theoretically take on a direct attack from a Lord. But even before that, his uniform was home to twenty-two knives, five palm-sized disposable Straight Shots and four Palisades.

Without all this, he felt rather vulnerable.

“Feels odd, doesn’t it?” said Marie. She too was looking and tugging at the bathrobe, dissatisfied. The two hadn’t really noticed this before Rene entered, but Aziz had been too discomfited by her words that it would seem that he wanted to feel more secure.

“Well, at least you wore something nice when we were at the East that time,” said Aziz. “Me? Army fashion through and through. Flimsy things like this don’t really make me feel safe at all.”

“The woes of being a soldier, I guess.” Marie rubbed her robes. “Why did you have to mention that? Now I feel that this is inadequate too! It was just a vague feeling before, but now…”

“Hah.” Aziz rubbed his nose. “Misery loves company, marshal.”

“We’ll drink to that, at least.” She rolled her eyes and sat up. “Still, why did Familiar Spirit Rene say that to us?”

“Because she wanted it off her chest?” Aziz replied, his thoughts drifting over to the familiar spirit. Shaking his head, he cleansed his head of any impure thoughts, focusing on the questions at hand. “Or maybe she wanted us to bring word back to the Republic.”

“About what? That’s there’s another” — Marie mouthed ‘great god’ — “that’s hanging around our world? What should the Republic do with such news, then? After all, if even she can’t speak with absolute freedom in Liamar’s Divine Kingdom, what can the Republic do?”

Aziz shrugged. “Maybe we need to spread it around like a rumour. Did you hear the rumours about the Chanter of Innocents’ awakening? Rumours has it that he was awakened when someone tried to peer into the process of becoming a Knight.”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“I’ve heard that one too,” said Marie. “That rumour died out quickly, though. The latest one was that the Chanter of Innocents was but a smokescreen for the real…”

Lightning flashed. Blinding light streamed into the room’s windows for a moment, leaving thunderclaps in its wake. In that light, Aziz once again saw a haunted visage he’d seen on Rene earlier surface on Marie’s face.

“Marie?! What’s wrong?” Aziz asked.

“No, nothing.” The marshal shook her head. “I just had a feeling that I shouldn’t complete the sentence, that is all. Remember that experiment I told you about?”

His mind churned madly, and he sifted through memory after memory, before that particular episode showed up in his head. It was a conversation that the two had before the Human God descended upon the Eastern Territories, where…

“Sentences and words that speak of this world’s truths are blotted out,” Aziz murmured. A cold shiver ran down his spine. There was something to be said about becoming a Knight, but to think that the entity behind it was able to use a great god to hide—

A small flame lit up in his head, and Aziz’s train of thoughts vanished like snow in the afternoon sun. His eyes throbbing, the colonel forced himself to stop thinking entirely.

“My eyes, they feel like they’re about to blow…” Aziz muttered.

“And worse, I take it.” Marie coughed, sounding like she wanted to throw up the contents of her stomach. “What a horrible feeling.”

“Seconded, motion passed.” Aziz flipped his pillow, which was uncomfortably warm, and then flipped it back when he saw a red, stinking stain on it.

“You should get that replaced,” said Marie.

Before Aziz could say anything, she’d raised her voice and called out for someone. Someone ran in a moment later, and Marie whistled appreciatively.

“How may I help you, esteemed guests?” A woman, dressed in a…uniform of sorts, curtsied. Her attire was that of a frilly black dress, partially covered by an even more frilly white apron. Immediately, Aziz could understand why Marie whistled — this woman was overflowing with elegance and class.

Marie leaned forward. “Are you a maid?”

“That is my occupation, yes,” she replied. “Is it rather famous?”

“Anyone who follows the lives of the Cardinal Champions would know them,” Marie replied. Turning to Aziz, she explained, “This was an occupation made famous by Champion Octantis. Many have tried to replicate it, but only the major Houses in the Southern Assembly ever got anything resembling the real thing.”

“The real thing?”

“One who reads minds and pre-empts the needs of their masters, who carries themselves with the greatest dignity and grace, who serves with impeccable perfection.” The maid bowed. “Regretfully, I am not up to standard thus far.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Marie replied. “I became the Chief of my nation’s air force in a year, and I’m definitely not up to standard. It’s all about improving and putting your mind to it.”

Aziz nodded. “I got promoted to a position way above my ability, and I didn’t even get paid for it.”

“Why are you looking at me?” Marie asked.

“No reason, really.” Aziz grinned. “You’ll live up to your own dreams if you believe you embody them. You aren’t an aspiring maid, you’re a real one. Leave up to it!”

The maid cupped her chin. “You might be right. Esteemed sir, would you like a new bed?”

Aziz smiled. “Gladly.”