Adam had nearly gotten a mental plan prepared in his head. They would move to his room – where they’d held private talks like this in the past – and go over what to do next. It was simple enough.

Except that Tenver seemed very, very intent on making sure nothing went quite as planned.

“Tenver,” Adam said, closing his eyes and vaguely gesturing at their surroundings. “What happened to my room?”

“Your quarters?” The man raised an eyebrow, clearly feigning confusion, then smiled as if he’d just realized what Adam meant. “Ah, these used to be your quarters, didn’t they?”

“Used to be?” Adam cried out. “Did you move my things somewhere else?”

“Absolutely.” Tenver’s smile remained bright and strong – as if Adam wasn’t currently staring daggers at him. “It would look bad for our lord to live in what used to be a pseudo-prison. I had you moved to what used to be Aspreay’s quarters.”

“And you think I’ll enjoy being in that room?” Adam barked out. He winced at the thought of sleeping in the room of a man he’d stolen everything from. “You didn’t think about asking me?”

“No.” Tenver’s voice wasn’t playful this time. “This room is horrible to post guards in. An assassin would get caught, sure, but only after they got to you.”

He couldn’t argue with that. For all that Tenver was playing up his eccentricities, the man seemed genuinely concerned with keeping his new Lord alive. He wants a better life for the common people, Adam reminded himself. It’s not that he’s doing all of this lightly. It’s just that...he’s not hesitating.

Adam felt like if he objected too harshly to that, he’d be a bit of a hypocrite. So instead, he just drew a deep breath and opened his eyes. “And what of this?” he asked, dryly. “What happened to my old room?”

“While it’s difficult to protect because of its layout, that also makes it hard for people to listen in. I assumed it would be a good place to hold private discussions until we are done purging the disloyal from your court. You saw the crossbow trap I set before we came, yes? That’s the only way through here, and the bolts would kill anyone who walked in. Won’t stop a group of dedicated assassins, but it’s good against gossip.”

Purge? Did you just say purge? Goddamn, dude. “I saw you set that trap, but...aren’t you afraid of killing some innocent courtier?” Because if he wasn’t, that would say a lot about what kind of man he was.

Thankfully, Tenver absently shook his head. “I left a rather large written warning close by. You’d have to be blind to miss it. Anyone walking in knows they’ll be shot to death unless we disarm the trap from this side.”

“That’s way too – okay, whatever. Still doesn’t answer my original question. The hell happened to this room?”

“Hm? Oh!” Tenver laughed, peering around with an affectation of surprised awe. . “Wow! There’s quite a few drinks here, aren’t there?”

“This is more than a few!” Adam cried out. “There’s barrels, for fuck’s sake. And bottles. And you took out the bed to fit more alcohol here! And you–”

Tenver held out a finger to interrupt him. “I also prepared the room with painting supplies, my lord.”

Adam instantly walked off to study the supposed supplies. The canvases were pretty decent, and there was actually a surprising variation in the types of paint he’d been given – somehow more than Aspreay himself had offered when forcing Adam to create those infernal paintings. They were even sorted and stored in different transparent glasses for convenience’s sake.

I really wish booze, food, and art supplies weren’t so effective at bribing me. “I guess I can forgive you,” Adam begrudgingly said.

“You are too kind, my lord,” Tenver said, once again pompously.

And once again, he did not bow. There was a polite nod, yet no one could have mistaken the gesture for subservient.

Well, this is as good of a time to ask as any. “I’ll fill you in on what happened in Gama, but you have to tell me, right now – who exactly are you, Tenver?”

The man stood still, flickering candlelight casting a silhouette against empty walls. His smile faded, but he did not appear uncomfortable. Rather, it was as if he’d judged the weight of Adam's question, and concluded that it demanded a heavy response. His hands, which were usually in motion, often conducting the air around him like a symphony, fell to his sides. Never before had Adam felt so deafened by silence.

And then Tenver spoke.

“My father was once the Emperor,” he said, without guile or shame..

Silence fell again.

“Well,” Adam muttered slowly, “that’s somehow better than what I was expecting. Go on.”

“That’s all the reaction I get out of you?” Tenver laughed. “I was hoping you’d stumble away from me in horror, shielding your eyes like the sun was too bright for you.”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “I’m not that stupid. No one said anything openly, but your status has seemed pretty unusual since the day I arrived. You were exiled to Penumbria, I get that – but even Aspreay seemed to hold you with some regard. There were whispers here and there, and I looked into some things...could definitely use the full explanation, though.”

“Not much to explain,” Tenver admitted. Nevertheless, he poured Adam and himself a drink before continuing. “My father was the late Emperor – he was, ah, not always popular. There were some circumstances behind his death, and I was soon banished here.”

“That seems vague.”

“It is what most people know, though,” Tenver pointed out. “And what you would also know if you hadn’t lost your memory. In a small, shit town like this, where entertainment and joy are nearly as rare as Orbs, everyone has heard my tale. The son of the Emperor who was exiled to distant Penumbria, deciding to work as a guard to protect the common folk – instead of partying with Aspreay all day long. It gives them hope, you know? That maybe some people at the top still care for them.”

“Before I left, “Adam began, “you told me you weren’t a son of the Emperor.” He knew what the counter would be, but he wanted to hear it straight from Tenver’s mouth.

“I’m not. The current Emperor and I share no blood relation.”

Yeah, figured as much. “What’s your official title?”

Tenver grinned. “Why don’t you tell me, my lord? That seems like your decision.”

“Aside from whatever title I give you.”

“None that I didn’t cast away the moment I pledged by sword to you.”

Adam loudly sighed. “Tenver. Cut the bullshit and answer.”

“Fine.” Tenver nodded, and when he spoke, it was in a more serious tone. “None that matters. I was given a duchy that was already engulfed by Rot long before I knelt before the Emperor – close enough to Penumbria to justify my ‘banishment.’ Officially, I am the Emperor’s fourth heir. Practically speaking, I am nothing.”

“Ah...yeah, that’s a bit on the troublesome side of things,” Adam said, after a pause. “Maybe the Emperor will take my rebellion as a chance to get rid of you.”

“He could,” Tenver admitted. “But mayhap he will hesitate instead. I am but a name, yet mighty enough a name holds more power than many blades.”

Adam tried to translate that in his head. “You mean you have popular support?”

“In some places. Not in most,” Tenver frankly said. “But enough that murdering me would be seen as...a bad political move. He’ll do it if needed, but I imagine he’d rather do it in a way that would give him plausible deniability.”

“That’ll be tricky to navigate.”

“My apologies for not informing you sooner. I understand that this might have been useful to know before planning your rebellion.”

“Eh, not really. It was really obvious, and like you said, I would’ve known about it if not for my memory being screwy. I already made my plans under the assumption you were some problematic fuck they’d be happy to get rid of, so if anything, this works out in our favor.”

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

And granted, when I made those plans I wasn’t super sold on wanting to live. That had changed.

“Thank you,” Tenver said, sincerely. “I know it was childish of me. Only...” He hesitated for a second before continuing. “I...quite enjoyed being spoken to like you did. Not as the exiled once-prince, but as...”

“An arrogant, psychotic bastard?” Adam asked, in a harsh tone. But he smiled at the end, and Tenver smiled in return. “Don’t worry. I don’t plan on changing how I talk to you.”

“Again, thank you.” Tenver shook his head. “Now, with that out of the way...enlighten me on the details, my lord. What happened in Gama?”

“Just call me Adam. Feels condescending for you to call me lord when I know your past.”

Tenver considered the point. “As you wish...Adam.”

Adam began recounting his experiences from Gama, the sheer depth of his story resonating within that small room. Tenver tuned in closely to each word, his attention captured by the vivid narrative. At times, when Adam caught a glimpse of a twinkle in the knight’s eye, he’d think back to Solara and how she’d told him of Vasco’s past. Was his storytelling like hers? Most likely not. Still, it was hard not to be a little theatrical.

For the sake of time, he skipped over a few details here and there. Adam wasn’t sure if he forgot to mention anything important – outside of making his fight sound more dignified and hiding the details of his wagering ability – but he got the important bits across. Vasco’s past, the curse, and the like.

“I see,” Tenver said, when Adam finally finished. “That explains a lot. It’s a concern that the elf knows of your abilities, but considering how you’ve painted her soul, it sounds like she was being honest.”

“You think she can be trusted?”

“That is not what I said.” Tenver shook his head. “Doing business with elves...I don’t like it, not one bit. But she was wronged by the Emperor, and her goals are pure enough.”

Adam put on a bitter smile. “You’re the only one who’d call murder pure.”

“Purity isn’t always good, I don’t think. To me, purity refers to an element untainted by others. Her desire to murder comes from justice, and little else – I’d call that pure.”

Supportive words, but you still sound suspicious of her. Elves really aren’t looked up to here, huh? There’s no wise, ancient, one-with-the-nature types in this world.

Adam wanted to say all of this aloud, but bit his lip. It was better to avoid being that honest. “So...what are our plans?”

“Long term? Murdering the Emperor does sound quite nice to me, if you are fine with that as well.”

“Something tells me there’s more to your father’s death than you let on.”

“Aye. There is.” He stared at Adam. “What of it?”

Those were not the eyes of someone who was going to share that information freely. Whatever this was, it wasn’t something most people were privy to. “Nothing,” Adam said. “I’m not exactly opposed to it...but I can’t say that the idea of getting involved to that degree appeals to me.”

“You’re already involved,” Tenver pointed out. “Pretending otherwise will not make it so. The Emperor won’t allow you to live a quiet life if you shrink in a corner. You may as well bite back.”

“Well, you’re not wrong there.” Truthfully, Adam was already convinced of the plan, but he’d rather come across like he was reluctant. He might be able to force some concessions out of Tenver and Solara if they thought he wasn’t too keen on the whole rebellion deal. “Not like I can live with myself knowing there are dozens of Aspreays running around and abusing their people.. They aren’t worthy of ruling over themselves, let alone the thousands who depend upon them for survival.”

“And you think you are?” Tenver’s question was sharp, but not confrontational. He seemed nakedly curious about Adam’s answer.

Adam sighed. “Gonna be honest, haven’t even stopped to consider that. I feel like I’d be an egomaniac if I thought myself worthy, and a coward if I said I wasn’t. I have the willingness and the capability to do better than them – do I need anything else?”

“No.” Tenver’s lips curled into an impish grin, his eyes narrowing in mischief. He allowed a chuckle, low and rumbling, to escape his lips. “That is good enough for me. It’s a better answer than I would have given.” That last bit added a touch of bitterness to his tone. “You’re certain about this, then?”

Just then, Adam’s tablet started ringing. “Sorry, just – give me a second.”

“Is your...canvas singing?” Tenver asked, suspiciously.

Huh, so its disguise has a limit. Interesting. “Yeah, just, one moment.”

“You going to explain the canvas-song?”

“You going to explain what’s up with you and the current Emperor?”

“Point taken.”

Adam glanced at his tablet and turned off the alarm. He opened it to a page full of notes, frowning at what he saw. He had no recollection of writing this whatsoever.

Luckily, his past self answered his question for him.

Adam’s Notes on the Painted World

YOU WILL NOT REMEMBER HAVING WRITTEN THIS.

— I was brought here after being sucked through a painting in the old man’s art shop.

— Some weird voice, maybe some sort of god, spoke to me then and granted me my painting powers.

— They spoke to me again when the ‘Dark Sorcerer’ was brought up.

— The Painted Gods have something to do with the Emperor.

— They try to erase my memory of them every time I hear their voice. If you can read these notes, it seems like they can’t or won’t erase written notes for whatever reason.

Adam studied the notes for a long moment. While he didn’t have any evidence that he was the one who wrote it...there was this nagging thought in the corner of his mind, tiny but insistent, telling him that this really had happened. Like a faded dream the morning after.

“Yeah, I’m definitely in,” Adam muttered quietly. “What’s our next step?”

“Well,” a new voice said, from outside the room. “I’d say the first step is to finalize the details of our alliance with my father tomorrow. Then, we should secure ourselves more support before the Emperor comes knocking.”

The two shared a glance for only a moment before leaping to their feet. Tenver’s hand fell on his sword hilt, and he would have drawn if not for Adam’s own hand falling on the knight’s wrist. The Lord of Penumbria shook his head at him. “Solara?” Adam asked, with poorly-disguised unease. “Is that you?”

“Who else?” she asked, with completely undisguised impatience. “Let me in. We have much to discuss before tomorrow.”

“It’s open,” Adam said, at the same time as Tenver said, “How did you get here? Did you get around the crossbow traps? Did it not fire? I was certain that–”

“Oh, no,” Solara clarified, as she opened the door and walked in. “It fired.”

She stood at ease in the doorway, her form an uncanny display of resilient grace – as if she didn’t have a number of crossbow bolts protruding from her shoulders, stomach, and chest.

Huh. Adam blinked. I’m beginning to think the simple, cheap dresses she wears are less a matter of humbleness and more that she just dies too damn often.

“The trap certainly killed me,” Solara said, pulling out the first bolt and wincing mildly. “I just walked in here after that. Now, my lords, can we speak regarding our planning? The Imperial Hangman might yet come knocking. Do you have any strong objections against negotiating with Dragon Puppets?”