The man calling himself Danton Ralish, Acting Lord Commander of the Kesrockian Knights, has the face of a k-pop idol. 11 watches from her seat as the young man strolls over to his side of the table, and sits down with an excessive flourish of his cape.
“Tell me more about this Blood Devil,” he says with a boyish smile that has no doubt wooed the hearts of many.
11 glances around the tent to buy time.
“The Blood… she looked like a little girl,” she says. “And used an umbrella as a weapon.”
The Acting Lord Commander’s interrogation room is nothing more than a sheet of animal skin stretched over a bare skeleton of wood, with an even cruder table dividing the floor space in two.
11 is seated with her back to the exit, her escape blocked by two burly knights.
"How peculiar," says Danton, his thin eyebrows lifting towards his wavy fringe. "What was she wearing?"
"A lolita dress," 11 answers. "Mary Janes, laced knee socks, you know."
If Danton doesn't understand he does not show it. Raking a hand through his strawberry-blond hair he asks, "Where is she now?"
Waning sunlight glances off the west side of the tent, polka-dotting the inconsistencies in the stretched skin.
“We had a fight,” 11 says. “I chased her away.”
“You didn’t kill her?”
“That’s not my job.”
Except it is. 11 knows this more than anyone. Outside, she can hear the sounds of a platoon of knights clanking about, carrying gear and equipment around the military camp.
They wouldn’t be in this situation if I killed Hikari when I had the chance.
“Some knights are saying it was you who saved them,” says Danton. “Some are even claiming you to be Princess Hastarine.”
Chuckling, he rises and steps around to 11’s side, his gold cloak swishing behind him.
“I must admit,” he says. “You had me fooled at the beginning. You are the spitting image of the Princess.” He leans against the table, eyes trailing down 11's face and body. “Now how could that be, I wonder?”
“I’m just an adventurer from Overlake,” 11 replies. “I have a license to prove it.” She takes out her Grunt badge and hands it to the captain, who looks surprised to receive it. He gives the badge a cursory glance before casually tossing it on the table.
"Here is the situation as one may see it," he says, smiling charmingly at 11. There is something dark behind his rows of straight white teeth that makes 11's stomach roll.
“Earlier today, a Blood Devil is reported attacking the Kesrockian Knight’s headquarters. Knights from every Gate are summoned to combat the monster, allowing two criminals to escape under the cover of chaos. Then, when everyone arrives at the ruined castle, they find not the Blood Devil but a girl with a Grunt badge claiming to be a... Grunt?”
Danton Ralish is leaning right over 11 now, daring her to reply.
“How convenient for the criminals,” 11 says.
The Acting Lord Commander seems amused. “For the Blood Devil, too, wouldn’t you say?”
“I want to speak to a lawyer.”
Danton keeps smiling but the skin around his eyes tightens. “Perhaps a night in the dungeons will make you understand the situation you are in.”
11 stands, putting distance between them. Seeing her move, the two knights at the entrance raise their spears and advance.
“That will not end well for either of us,” 11 warns Danton. “And if I’m really a Blood Devil, you’re going to need a lot more knights than the ones you’ve got outside to take me down.”
His smile never waning, the East Gate captain raises a white-gloved hand.
“Take her.”
The two knights begin grabbing at 11 but a commotion outside steals everyone’s attention.
“You cannot go in!” A man is shouting even he crashes through the tent flap. He smacks into one of the captain’s knights and they both fall into the table, splitting it into pieces.
Danton Ralish jumps back as his remaining knight charges at the fluttering tent flap. The knight goes for a stab but before his spear can connect it flies from his hands, tearing through the top of the tent. The knight reaches for his dagger but another blast of wind knocks him to the ground.
“Who goes there!” Danton shouts, drawing his sword.
From the entrance a dark-skinned woman emerges, pushing the tent flap open with a tattooed hand adorned with silver rings. She’s clad in studded leather armor and holds a circular blade with wicked points all around it.
The knight on the ground gets up and charges. The woman waits for him to get close, then sends him spinning with a swipe of her blade.
11 can hear Danton's heart beating faster as he stands next to her.
The woman steps aside. “It is safe now, mine lady.”
The tent flicks open and Censa Thornrose enters, her long legs striding over the threshold. She is wearing a dress of silky red that clings to her curves like a lover, and a string of sharp sapphires adorn her head of dark blue hair like a crown of glistening stars. The wind seems to follow the woman into the tent, filling the stale air with a heavy vibrancy.
11 feels her own anxiety climbing.
What is she doing here? I’ve been making the payments on time, haven’t I?
Lady Thornrose looks around the tent. “I must say, I expected more class from you, Danton.”
“Lady Thornrose.” Danton relaxes the arm holding his sword but keeps the weapon unsheathed. “If I’d known you were coming I’d have prepared some tea.”
“You needn’t bother if it’s the kind Moralis has.” The woman’s laugh is light, convincing. “I trust you’ve found him?”
The East Gate captain looks stunned for a brief moment before his composure settles. “My knights are still searching, my lady.”
“Pity.” Lady Thornrose's gaze settles on 11. “Well? Why are you still standing there? Off you go. There is much work at the Guild for you to do, Grunt.”
11 glances around her before realizing who Lady Thornrose is talking to.
She steps forwards.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Danton demands, holding 11 back with his sword across her chest. “Lady Thornrose, this girl is suspected to be accountable for the destruction of the Knight’s castle!”
“Oh, you jest.” Lady Thornrose waves airily with one slender hand. “You mean to say a Grunt is capable of taking apart your chambers? Need I remind you how we rank our assets?”
“That’s…” Danton stops himself before saying more. A range of emotions flash across his face before realization takes hold.
"Terribly sorry, my lady," he says finally. "I was not aware you are personally responsible for every member of the Heroes' League.” He lowers his sword and 11 takes this as a cue to hurry to Lady Thornroses’s side.
“It is a hassle, certainly,” Lady Thornrose says, her silvery droplet earrings dancing as she giggles. “But this one is somewhat special. You see, she broke something very valuable of mine and I am in the mindset that until every bit is paid for, she is not to be touched by anyone else.”
She puts a protective hand on 11’s shoulders, surprising everyone.
“Even the Acting Lord Commander, I’m afraid.”
Danton pauses for only a heartbeat before he sheaths his sword and offers the Lady a disarming smile. “I understand perfectly, my lady. A Thornrose always collects their debts.”
The captain bows deeply, and stays like that even as 11 is shepherded out of the tent.
More fearsome-looking guards are waiting for Lady Thornrose on the other side of the tent, holding the reins of saddled horses. They are all dressed similarly to one another, and without word they fall into line behind Lady Thornrose as she mounts up and trots away.
11 finds herself seated behind the Lady and burning with questions.
“Lady Thorn-"
“Do not speak. Not until we are out of the knights’ ears.”
Lady Thornrose's voice is much different than the one she used with the East Gate captain. There is urgency and truth to these words, and they tell 11 much of what is not said. She holds her tongue and waits.
Shortly after, they exit the camp and are riding out into the streets. 11 is shocked to see the cobblestone ground running with rivers of blood, both dried and fresh. Bodies litter the streets, some from knights but most others are of common folk. All of them are left to be torn apart by crows and wild dogs.
Did Hikari do this?
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The thought sickens 11. She speaks up, hoping Lady Thornrose can hear her above the trotting of horse hooves.
“My lady, I need to go home and check on my family.”
“Where do they live?” Lady Thornrose’s voice is a whisper, yet the wind carries her words clearly into 11’s ears. “I will send people to guard them.”
“They’ll just be spooked by that,” 11 says. “If you let me off here I can walk the rest of the way.”
Lady Thornrose does not answer. She turns her horse up through the western part of the city, into the long stretch of sandy road leading up to the Guild. Her guards follow close behind.
11 knows she can just jump off and there will be no one to stop her, but a part of her is curious why the Guild's boss has come all this way to pick her up, so she decides to stay put for now.
She sends a signal up to Mother's satellites asking for the whereabouts of Yue'li and Abetah, but gets back nothing useful.
Soon, they reach the Guild’s entrance and dismount.
“Follow me closely,” Lady Thornrose says to 11 once they're both on the ground. “There’s something I wish to discuss with you.” She hands the reins of her horse over to one of her guards and heads inside, long legs carrying her up the steps with ease.
11 has to jog to keep up. “Is it about my debt?” she asks, hoping for some sort of alleviation from the stupidly large amount of money she owes the Guild.
"You'll soon see." Lady Thornrose pushes on through into the massive double doors.
The Guild’s foyer is akin to the reception of a grand hotel, bustling with more activity than even the market. All sorts of characters zip about with their weapons and bags of loot, their reflections cast through the marble flooring. Crystal chandeliers hang every few steps above, shining multicolored lights against the granite pillars and walls.
But no matter how busy they are, everyone stops to greet Lady Thornrose as she passes them.
I don’t know if they like her or fear her, 11 thinks as she follows in the woman’s shadow. Maybe it’s both.
They arrive in the middle of the hall, where a red-haired receptionist sits behind a donut-shaped table. This girl always reminds 11 painfully of Aralyn, so as usual, she averts her eyes when the girl looks up from her paperwork.
“The preparations are all complete my lady,” the receptionist chirps as she adjusts her round glasses. “The papers have all been sent to your chambers.”
“I am not to be disturbed for today,” says Lady Thornrose. “Understood?”
The receptionist smiles brightly. “Of course, my lady.”
11 has been in the Guild many times already, yet whether it is handing in commissions or meeting adventuring parties, she never needed to go past the front sections of the white marbled castle.
Now, she finds herself following Lady Thornrose up flights of chiseled steps to the second floor, then past that to the third and the fourth, all the way to the sixteenth floor where an iron door bars the rest of the way.
"We're here," says Lady Thornrose. She looks down at 11. "You're not winded, are you?"
11 shakes her head. "Have you thought about installing a lift?"
"Very funny." With a dainty flick of her wrist, Lady Thornrose whispers a spell and the lock clicks open. “Don't step on my carpet,” she says, before pushing open the door and stepping in.
11’s jaw falls open as she takes in the view of the massive bedroom.
Lady Thornrose's personal chambers is like a living room, ostensibly decorated with a grand fireplace and enough furniture to fill the Basilona Bakery twice over.
11 steps in, straight onto fur carpet that stretches to the edges of the walls. She looks around, finds the shoe rack and slips off her boots.
In the middle of the room, a dark mahogany table sits on the furry coat of a grizzly bear. A tree of branching candles is placed on the table, next to a bottle of wine. 11 spots the papers the receptionist mentioned stacked neatly at one end of the table and starts to make her way over, but something catches her eye.
Along an entire wall is a shelf stacked with animal trophies, one of which has the distinct shape and color of a wraith’s claw. 11 gingerly steps up to the shelf, running her scanners across the black, boney nail.
“Most of these were gifts,” she hears Lady Thornrose say from behind her. “Though I will not deny that, at times, I have allowed myself to spend my Lord Husband’s gold on a whim.”
There is a self-deprecating jab in the woman’s voice and it makes her sound almost friendly. 11 turns and is startled to find the woman standing so close their chests are almost touching.
“Lady Thornrose-”
“Censa.” The woman reaches out and cups 11’s chin in her slender fingers. “You may call me Censa when we’re alone.”
Heat travels through 11’s body. The feeling is strangely familiar, which tells her this is not the first time she finds herself so physically close to an older, more attractive female.
She swallows.
“Mmkay. I mean, I just want to thank you, C-censa, for getting me out of that camp.”
Censa’s smile plays at her eyes, making them dance with the light from the candles on the table.
“Doesn’t it make you wonder why I went into so much trouble?”
“No,” 11 admits, “because I have a feeling the answer to that question will get me in a lot of trouble.”
Censa laughs. “Clever, aren’t you.” She lets go of 11 and strolls over to the bed on the other side of the room. 11 watches the woman, unsure of what to do with herself until Censa starts to undress. She looks away quickly.
“Have a seat and pour me a glass, will you?”
11 chooses an empty seat by the pile of papers, thinking she should be close to the reason she seems to be here. The wine smells spicy and gushes in a light swirl of strawberry red, quite unlike the one 11 shared with Hikari before the girl vanished with the promise of pain and heartbreak.
Censa returns without her jewelry, or her red dress. She’s wearing a loosely fitting fur gown that parts around her toned legs as she sits. Her hair is down, framing her face like dark curtains.
She chooses a seat directly opposite 11.
“Indulge me in a game,” she says, reaching for the two filled wine glasses. “Suppose I have one of these glasses poisoned before we came in, how will you get yourself out of this room alive without resorting to violence or just fleeing?”
11 looks at the glasses, their contents sparkling red in the candlelight. “I don’t understand, Lad- Censa. Isn’t there something you wanted to talk to me about?”
Censa pushes one of the glasses in front of 11. “We’ll talk,” she says. “But first you must humor me. Now, suppose I know which one is poisoned. Will you drink from this glass I just gave you?”
She’s testing me, 11 realizes. This must all be part of it.
11 looks at the glasses carefully this time, turning up her scanners. Of course, neither of the glasses have any unidentifiable residues on their rims or collecting on the bottom of the wine.
They aren't actually poisoned, which means this is a psychological test.
11 turns her attention to the woman in front of her. It’s all too familiar. The cryptic smile, the dark eyes, the scent of oblivion lingering around her.
“I will choose the glass you have, my lady.”
Censa’s face lights up in surprise, her full lips parting to allow a, “Oh?”
11 reaches over to take Censa’s glass. The wine sloshes near the rim, threatening to spill over. She brings the glass to her lips, holding Censa’s curious gaze.
And drinks.
The wine is sweet and laced with a spice similar to paprika. 11 swallows it all before putting the glass back down.
“Not dead,” she announces.
Censa has her elbows on the table, her fingers threaded together. A genuine smile graces her sharp face.
“How were you so certain?”
11 gives a rueful smirk. “I know your type all too well. Conniving, deceitful, beautiful. You have no qualms about using others for your own gain. You use the victim's naivety and desires against them, making them comfortable and vulnerable before you strike.”
“Nranhana be good,” says Censa. “Seems to me I struck a nerve. Who was this terrible woman who had betrayed you so? Tell me her name and I’ll have her pay for hurting such a pretty thing like you.”
11 shrugs and reaches for the bottle. “You wouldn’t know her.”
Censa takes the bottle before 11 can. She leans over and refills 11's glass, pouring the wine slowly, letting it flow.
11 has to avert her eyes again, lest she sees too much down the woman's opened neckline. She whispers, “Besides, that woman is likely long dead already, unless reality proves to be more insane than it already seems to be.”
Censa pushes the glass back and 11 down the whole thing. Then, she asks for more.
“You are just full of surprises,” Censa muses as she watches 11 finish the bottle. “I knew you were special the moment you walked through my castle doors. Looks like I am not wrong.”
11 slides the empty glass away. “Thanks for the drink. Can we talk about the real reason I’m here now?”
Censa takes a leisurely sip of her wine. "Okay." She rises from her seat and walks over to the windows, the afternoon light streaming in from between the distant mountains. With one hand balancing her glass she unlatches one of the panes, letting in the cool summer breeze flow through the room.
"I do not know if you really are responsible for the state of this city," Censa says, "but it is no secret to me that you are more capable than you look.”
11 stares at the burning candles, watching the wax run down into the metal dish. The wine is strong but not enough to loosen her tongue.
“My sources tell me that not only have Moralis Maydan and Sir Gregorn Tigarn perished inside the Knight’s castle, but the Lord Commander’s body has been found as well.”
“That is sad news,” 11 says. Though she has never seen these people before, she can’t help but feel guilty that her fight with Hikari caused their deaths.
“The worse is yet to come,” Censa says. “After their funerals, the Knights will undoubtedly want to hold a tourney to fill the vacuum of power left in those two's wake. That is the quickest and most effective way, but with the city in flames and Aargon dead, the corruption amongst the Knights will only take this chance to flourish. There will be more swindled jousts than real ones.”
Censa comes back to the table. She plucks a piece of paper from the stack and hands it to 11. An inkpot and quill sit next to the stack, which she pushes over as well.
“That is why I want you to participate.”
11 stares at the paper. It’s a face sheet of sorts, detailing a humble city-born girl with a family history of serving the city. It’s only on her second read-through that she realizes it's her name written at the top.
Elevena Windborne of Kesrock.
"You want your puppet inside the Kesrockian Knights," she says, looking up. "How is that different from having corrupt officials sitting in those seats?"
Censa sits down, one bare leg sliding over the other. She raises the glass to her lips and takes a long sip. “Consider this repayment for breaking my orb.”
"And if I refuse?"
Censa plucks another piece of paper off the stack and slides it to 11. "I don't think you will."
It is a contract for payment of 20,000 Gold Bits, more than twice the amount of 11's debt.
"Don’t worry about the legitimacy," Censa says. "All of your background and relevant personal informations have already been produced, and anyone involved in its process has been... dealt with. All you need to do is show up on the day and fight. And win, of course.”
“And then after that?” 11 asks. “Listen to your instructions for the rest of my life?”
“Goodness,” says Censa. “You make it sound so morbid.” She finishes her wine and sets the glass aside. “There are tens of thousands of people in this city, but only ever four captains at any one time. Many will give up their lives if it means a chance to become one.”
11 slides the papers back towards Censa. “Humans covet most the things they’ve lost and do not have.” She almost adds, Luckily I'm not human, but that sounds cheesy and will definitely give away too much.
Censa does not seem to be bothered by 11's refusal. In fact, she doesn't even seem to acknowledge 11 has refused.
“You will rather spend your days toiling away in the wilds than surrounded by riches?" she asks. "Your debt must be paid regardless, you understand.”
“I do,” says 11. “But I have other plans to do that. You’re not going to tie strings on me, Lady Thornrose.” She starts to rise from the table. “Thank you for the talk and lovely wine, but my answer is no.” She turns to go but Censa’s next words stop her.
“I know you’ve been looking for land.”
11 hesitates.
"If memory serves me, I believe the last house in the Northern Sector was sold for little more than fifty-thousand gold bits."
11 turns around. "What are you saying?"
Censa is playing with her glass, rolling it between her fingers. "Would you like to venture a guess as to its buyer? Here’s a hint. She was one of the Gate Captains. And she didn't even need my help."
Censa turns the glass on its head, trapping one of the candles inside it. The flame flickers, sputters out.
"Imagine what you can do with my help,” she says, narrowing her dark eyes at 11. “One year, that’s all I ask of your service. And in return, I will give you half the city.”
A thought crosses 11’s mind then, of a future she’s only dreamed about. Ever since she learned of the existence of coffea from Yue’li, she has not stopped thinking about Lattes and Mochas, caramel syrups and chocolate powders. Her morning cup has always felt like an impossibly distant thing.
But with her own land...
11 finds her legs moving on their own, bringing her back to the table, back to Censa Thornrose.
“I want to talk terms” she announces before the woman can say anything. “If I’m to be one of Kesrock’s captains, I need to know I’m not dooming its people to a psychopathic megalomaniac. No wait, that's exactly what you are." 11 grabs the inkpot and starts scribbling on the back of one of the papers. "I want separation of powers. I want third-party accountability and back-out clauses.”
“You’ll do this, then?” The hope in Censa’s voice contradicts the calculating coldness in her eyes.
11 nods to the rest of the pile. “That depends on all that. I’m guessing it isn’t just about my imaginary family.”
Censa smiles. For a brief moment, she looks like a girl who just got her dream Christmas present.
"Let us talk terms then," she says, reaching under the table for a golden bell. "But before that, more wine.”
The sound of the ringing bell echoes through Lady Thornrose's bed chambers, marking the beginning of a relationship that 11 has no doubt will show her a side of humanity she never thought she'd have to see again.