“We have three options if we want to reach the Dragon Puppets,” Adam began, settling into his chair. “First, I can put my trust in your vague plan. Second, I can put my trust in Tenver’s vague plan.”

Solara lifted an eyebrow. “And the third option?”

“I can refuse to go meet with the Puppets at all,” Adam said, with a noncommittal shrug. “Honestly, you and Tenver both trying to push me in that direction makes me want to take a detour towards literally anywhere else.”

“Are you serious?” Solara blinked a few times in stunned silence. “You know what kind of danger you’re in. There’s no way you’d be willing to risk your life just out of spite – oh good heavens, you actually would, wouldn’t you?”

Adam allowed himself to smirk at that. He probably shouldn’t be proud of his stubborn streak, but it was one of the few things he’d had in life for a very long time, and he liked to treasure his possessions. “The possibility did come to mind, once or twice. Maybe three times. That said, I will admit that the Hangman is...a bit of a problem. If you have inroads with the Dragon Puppets, then retreating to their Mines sounds like a good enough suggestion.”

He leaned forward, searching her face for signs of duplicity. “Except that most people don’t seem to be fans of them. There’s gotta be a reason for that.”

“They are undead monsters wearing false skin,” Solara said, in a surprisingly quiet voice. “People liken them to us, as if elves were also unnatural creatures spawned by another. Dragon Puppets aren’t even alive, let alone capable of the morality that designates man from beast. My lord, there is merit in meeting with them, I wouldn’t have suggested this otherwise...but make no mistake: they are not to be trusted.”

No one is, Adam considered, although he managed to keep the thought from touching his lips. “Solara, you mentioned before about not enjoying the fancy, overdone way of speaking that nobles use...so do you mind if I speak candidly with you for a moment?”

“By all means.” After a moment, her shoulders dropped slightly, and her smile became less respectful – and more genuine. “Go right ahead.”

“My problem is that I have no guarantee you aren’t trying to kill me,” he said, in a forthright tone bereft of malice. “You or Tenver, for that matter. Sure, both of you have good reasons to keep me alive, but reasons can change. People can change. All it would take is for one of you to decide that betraying me to the Emperor has more upsides than staying as an ally. Maybe I’d feel different if I knew you better, but as it stands, I just can’t tell what’s going through your heads.”

Solara let out an amused chuckle. “I suppose leading you into an underground city via shady means of transportation does look suspicious, doesn’t it? Unfortunately, your alternative is to stay here and let the Hangman come knocking.”

“Maybe I should. Might beat him myself and save everyone the trouble.”

She didn’t bother to dignify that with a response, which was fair. Adam drew a deep breath, centering himself. I can’t fall into the trap of mistaking paranoia for wisdom. Second-guessing myself into doing nothing would be worse than making a wrong call and getting betrayed.

He knew that. He truly did. But still... “Come on, Solara. Give me something to work with here. Tell me why I should trust you over Tenver.”

“Because you don’t have a choice.”

“Really not helping here.”

“I mean it, though,” she insisted. “Think about it. You haven’t established an intelligence network yet. You have no way of double-checking if me or Tenver are being truthful. At the same time, inaction would get you killed. So, you have to pick one of us.”

That wasn’t strictly true, but Adam decided to let it slide, for the moment. “Okay – then convince me to pick you over Tenver.”

“Well, to start...while you claim not to know me, you – at the very least – know what my naked soul looks like.” Solara let the word hang for a moment. “Wouldn’t it be trivial for you to take my soul as well, if I were to go against you?”

It would. Adam had already thought about keeping a finished painting of her saved within his tablet. At that point, he could steal her soul merely by flipping the screen around.

None of that is a guarantee, though. What if she killed me before I could show her the painting? What if she gouged her own eyes out so she couldn’t see it? What if Vasco hired an invisible assassin to keep watch over me at all times?

Some of Adam’s concerns were reasonable. Some, admittedly, were a little absurd. They all bothered him regardless. He wasn’t perfect; eventually, he would miss something, and it would come back to bite him.

Like – for example – the reason why Solara had pointed out that he could paint her. He struggled to fathom why anyone would suggest that. It went beyond ‘daring’ and rocketed straight into abject recklessness. Was it really just because she wanted to get the Dragon Puppets on their side? Was her desire to kill the Emperor so strong that she was willing to gamble her very soul?

He needed to know.

“I’m still tempted to stay here and face the Hangman,” Adam stubbornly said. Which was a lie, but playing coy might get her to offer up more info. “And while meeting the Puppets isn’t a bad idea, I can always do it on my terms. Send envoys. Get them talking.”

“Look, you don’t have time to–”

With a muted growl, Solara cut her own complaint short. She rubbed her temples, as if massaging a brewing headache, and slowly exhaled. “Listen to me. There are very few ways to get into the Mines. Even if you perform a personal investigation, you’ll likely end up finding the same way I’m thinking of. In fact, it wouldn’t shock me if Tenver and I have similar methods.”

Adam fell quiet as he considered that. While Solara sounded truthful, she was still being vague on the details. Which was fine, but it also meant he would have to put in extra work to ensure that he could trust her. At least for now.

“We should stop here,” Adam said, through a sigh. “There’s a few things I’d like to check out before we go – if we go. Let’s reconvene tomorrow, assuming we have time.”

“I have no objections.” Solara paused, her teeth clenching. “Actually, I do have some objections.” With that, her voice gained some of its prior nobility, alongside a spark of legitimate annoyance that Adam hadn’t heard before. “The game of titles and nobles is a cruel one, to be certain...but do you really think I’d be so low as to betray the person who just saved me from a curse to the bloody Emperor?”

What emotion was that on her face? Disgust? Anger? It was hard to parse. Adam hadn’t ever been the most popular man in the world, but he wasn’t used to having women look at him that way. Although...now that he thought about it, he was certain that he’d seen that expression once before. But where, though?

And why are you so offended?

“Most likely not,” Adam conceded, albeit reluctantly. “But my duel with your Ghost taught me I’m actually more fond of living than I realized. If that’s the case, then I can’t afford to be reckless with my life.”

Besides. If I die, this entire city – and everyone who lives in it – is in serious trouble. It would be a real dick move to kick the bucket and leave them without a Lord. None of them had asked for Adam to seize the reins of Penumbria from Aspreay. He was intruding on them, really. And since he was forcing them to put up with his intrusion, becoming a good Lord was just the only decent thing to do, wasn’t it?

“Lord Adam,” Solara began, slowly. “Despite how I’ve spent years locked away in a tower...I feel as if I still trust people more than you. What happened?”

“Not what.” Adam stood up and walked to the doorway. “Who.”

--

He was prepared to leave the next day if needed, but for once, reality turned out to be slightly kinder than he’d expected.

Solara and Tenver’s spies both agreed that the Hangman was going to come knocking on their door soon enough – yet not immediately. For whatever reason, the man had stayed in Gama for a few days without taking action, before abruptly sending ravens all over to ask for news on Penumbria. While it was unfortunate that they hadn’t slipped his notice entirely, the Hangman at least seemed unwilling to attack without more information. It afforded them some time to gather their thoughts, albeit not much.

Adam had no intention of wasting that opportunity.

First up on his to-do list was assessing Penumbria’s finances. To no surprise, Aspreay’s documentation was woefully inadequate at best, and purposefully incomplete at worst. Too many loopholes, too many people not paying their taxes, some being forced to pay too much.

He needed to ensure that Penumbria would still have a stable economy – or any economy, really – when he returned.

Which was why he now stood in the throne room, alone except for the sole person he’d summoned. He didn’t want witnesses for this part.

“Greetings,” said Esteban the guard, in a wary voice. “You...wished to see me?”

“Yeah.” Adam remained seated on Aspreay’s throne – no, his throne. He could tell from Esteban’s eyes that the Imperial Guard felt uneasy about this meeting. That makes two of us. “It’s been a while since we spoke, hasn’t it?”

“It has, my...lord.” Esteban’s voice grew uneasy at the form of address. He immediately fell to one knee, his verbal utterance of Adam’s title suddenly reminding him of proper etiquette. “How can I serve you?”

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Adam watched him carefully. The guard failed to meet his gaze. “Last time we met, I was your prisoner. You were quite rough with me, if I remember correctly.”

Esteban didn’t lift his eyes, and his entire body shook slightly, as if struggling not to stand up and run away at the exact moment. “My...my lord, at that time, I was merely doing my job. It is a long and difficult profession where I have dealt with many abominable people. Anyone else in my position would’ve–”

“Tenver didn’t,” Adam pointed out. “He and you found me together, but only Tenver treated me with respect, even when he thought I was a criminal by Aspreay’s laws. You were more than happy to push me around, remember?”

Until now, Esteban had been on one knee, with all the dignity that position allowed for. Now he pulled back his other leg and brought his hands to the ground, both knees touching the cold stone, like a supplicating petitioner without rank would have done.

“H–have mercy, my lord.” Esteban’s voice cracked. “I have a family. People who need me.”

“Convenient, isn’t it? Everyone who abuses their power should start having kids. They make for an excellent excuse to avoid punishment.”

Just then, Esteban raised his voice in response. “I am not trying to avoid punishment! If you order it, my lord, I....”

The guard withdrew his sword and brought its edge to his throat. “Promise me that my family will be taken care of, and I shall present you with my own head this very instant.”

Huh. He...actually sounds honest. Either that, or he was a phenomenal actor, but that seemed unlikely.

“Put your sword away,” Adam said, annoyed. “Ugh. It’s not satisfying if you have some redeeming qualities underneath. Guess Tenver was right about you after all.” Or at least partially right.

Esteban hesitantly lowered his sword, confusion apparent on his face. “My lord?”

“I was poor before I became a lord,” Adam admitted. This part was why he’d banished all guards from the room before inviting Esteban in – he didn’t want anyone else to hear it. “Really poor. I know what it feels like to look at the roof over your head, and to not know how you’ll keep it. To be terrified of the word ‘tomorrow’. Not that I approve of your actions, but...I understand the bitterness that comes with that...lifestyle.”

Adam grimaced. “No, that feels wrong. Calling it a ‘lifestyle’ implies it’s a choice, instead of a miserable, soul-sucking routine that the fuckers from above force on you. So...I get it. I know it, I hate it, and I get it.”

Esteban lifted his head, meeting Adam’s eyes for the first time since the latter had become a lord. Perhaps for the first time ever. For a moment, neither man said a word.

“Tenver told me to trust you,” Adam eventually said.

“Do you, my lord?”

“I trust no one. Not you, not Tenver...” Not even myself. Heck, his own notes were enough to make him question his grasp on reality at times. It would be even worse – or maybe better – if he hadn’t lost his memories of the godlike voice that summoned him to this world and gave him his talent. It was difficult to feel haunted by something he couldn’t remember. “However, I do trust you not to be entirely self-destructive.”

“What do you mean?”

“Only this: those courtiers Aspreay kept around? They have plenty of reasons to betray me. Disgraced lords and whatnot...maybe if they turn over this ‘traitor’ who stole land from the Emperor, they might be granted forgiveness or renown. Commoners, though?”

Adam paused. “Hmm. Maybe you’re secretly an insane lunatic with Imperial pride. Maybe you’ll be dumb enough to believe that they’ll grant you a title and land for being a ‘hero’ – instead of being used and thrown away by the Emperor. I don’t think you’re that stupid, though.”

That caught Esteban’s interest. “Call me a scoundrel,” he said, “and I will not dispute it. But I am no lackwit.”

That’s why you’re here. “Gonna be honest. I can’t fully let go of how you treated me before,” Adam admitted. “I’m actually quite the petty person. At the same time, lording over you because of my new status would just leave a bitter feeling in my mouth. Can’t forgive you that easily, but...”

He trailed off. Do I really want to commit to this? He didn’t trust Esteban. On the other hand, there wasn't anyone he completely trusted in Penumbria. The few people he even half-trusted were being taken with him to see the Dragon Puppets. And if he just sat back and did nothing, the city’s finances would never hold.

Better to take risks than to die through inaction.

“You knelt as Esteban, Imperial Guard. You will rise as Esteban, Penumbria’s Knight of Coin.”

The former guard stared at him, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“I will assign you five men,” Adam continued, “and give you authority to arrest nobles on charges of corruption. Don’t execute them, however; only Tenver or myself can decide their fate. All of Penumbria’s citizens, myself and my knights excepted, are under your authority.”

Adam would’ve preferred that he was the only one passing judgement, but the precedent had already been set when Tenver executed so many nobles. “If possible, limit arrests for now – I don’t want a civil war to start while I’m gone. Additionally, I’ll need you to go through all the books Aspreay left behind and find out what our actual income is, and what our actual expenses are. Demand cooperation from everyone to accomplish these tasks. Understood?”

“That...” Esteban’s face went pale. “That is quite a lot to take in at once, my lord.”

“It is. But Tenver assures me you know how to read, and that you’re not a jackass. Know what’s interesting?” Adam asked, smirking. “He never said that about anyone else in this city.”

Esteban’s features narrowed, as if unsure whether to smile or frown. “Do you trust me?”

“No. But to be blunt, our economy needs fixing as fast as possible, and I won’t be able to attend to it myself. If I need to delegate this to someone, you have better odds of not betraying me than noble courtiers who I can’t get a read on.”

“And why is that?”

“Didn’t you hear me earlier, Esteban? I know what it’s like to not be part of the ruling class. If nothing else, I can trust that you don’t like the nobles I’m having you interrogate. This is your chance to get back at them.” Adam laughed, softly. “And if you do try to betray me, well...you saw what I did to Aspreay. I can clean up the mess when I get back.”

The two remained in silence for a long while. Adam didn’t think he was capable of trusting someone again – but he did think he could trust his own judge of character.

Slowly, with rising confidence, Esteban nodded. “It would be my honor, Lord Adam. Is there anything else you’d like?”

Adam returned the man’s nod with one of his own. “Tell me about Tenver. As the sorta-exiled son of the former Emperor, what do you make of him?”

“My lord, I can tell you my personal impressions of the man, and rudimentary knowledge that most others know, but not much of substance.”

“That’s fine. Give it to me all the same.”

Esteban bit his upper lip, then looked to the side in deep concentration, his features contorting with remembrance. “No one really understands him, my lord. Lord Te– Tenver. Aspreay forced us to call him that, no titles, since the moment Tenver pledged himself into service. He wasn’t especially popular around these parts. No one wanted him here.”

“Was his father unpopular?” Adam asked. Esteban was one of the few people aware of his ‘memory loss’, so he’d rather cut to the chase this time. “The former Emperor?”

“He was something between a saint and a devil,” Esteban wryly stated. Then, shaking his head, he quickly added, “I don’t mean to joke when I say that. Truly, Emperor Tavio was regarded as quite competent in keeping the Rot away from cities, and he kept infighting to a minimum. Only...”

“Only?”

Esteban hesitated. “Don’t take this the wrong way, my lord, considering your hosting of Lady Solara, but the late Emperor Tavio was very kind to elves.”

That didn’t sound right. Tenver’s attitude towards elves had been the same as how everyone else seemed to regard them – mild annoyances at best, cursed pests at worst. It wouldn’t be that strange for someone to hold beliefs that were different from his parents, but still...

You’re a hard one to figure out, Tenver. Why do you have to make this so difficult?

“Do you know why he joined the Imperial Guard?” Adam asked. Tenver had told him the reason a while back, but at this point, he was willing to question everything he thought he knew.

“To protect the common people.” Esteban shook his head. “Most people saw it as patronizing. Others saw him as a liability; a reason for Emperor Ciro to care even less about keeping Penumbria safe. And some...some might have seen him as a target for revenge against the nobility who deserted this city – especially given his lack of protection by anyone important.”

Esteban’s face twisted with guilt, and he fell into a momentary silence before speaking again. “My lord, did he really say...about me...”

“He did.”

“Fucking idiot,” the former guard muttered. “Why does he say things like that?”

The two of them shared a moment of profound confusion. On that much, at least, they could agree.