Tenver’s smile didn’t fade completely, yet its curves became less pronounced, his gaze sharpening. While the man was easygoing to an infuriating degree, no one could accuse him of being slow-witted. No way in hell he was just going along with things based on nothing except for empty trust. He may have gotten to know Adam pretty well over the past six months, but the whole soul-stealing thing should’ve overridden that.

“Fear,” Tenver began, “is rarely helpful. Have you ever made a good decision specifically because you were afraid? Have you ever been unsure of what to do, until that horrible, destructive feeling seized you by your ankles and reminded you of what path you were meant to follow?”

“Can’t say that it has.”

“The same is true for me. Fear always has me doing the wrong thing. Chasing paths to no benefit. In that regard, I’ve learned to ignore it when necessary. Besides...you can’t be a worse lord than Aspreay. His reign left me feeling powerless to help anyone for a long time. Maybe you’ll be different.”

“And maybe I’ll trap your soul inside a painting, steal your Talent, and burn Penumbria to the ground.”

“Maybe you will,” Tenver admitted in an oddly chipper tone. “But in either case, I cannot fight against someone with your Talent, so why bother worrying about it?”

That’s one way to look at it. In that moment, Adam felt like something of a hypocrite. Because while he could see himself acting that way, watching someone else acting so coldly, almost cheerfully detached from living and dying, was...odd. Tenver had explained his life philosophy to him before, but that didn’t make it any less bizarre.

“There’s gotta be some other reason,” Adam stubbornly insisted. “I mean, yeah, that would explain why you’re working with me – keeping an eye on the guy who could kill the city, and all that. Same thing you were doing with Aspreay. But that doesn’t explain why you look downright happy about it.”

Tenver smiled and gave Adam pause. He had a frighteningly charismatic smile, the kind that could either be stunningly natural or far, far too practiced. “Why?” The guard repeated. “Adam, I trust you.”

“Trust me?” Adam nearly spat the words out. “Tenver, we met when you arrested me, remember?”

“And then we spent the next six months getting to know each other.”

“I spent six months lying to you! I hid my intentions to steal your lord’s soul and rob him of his powers! You should at least feel betrayed that I didn’t clue you in to what I was planning!”

Tenver shook his head. “That would be ridiculous of me, wouldn’t it? I haven’t shared my background, nor why I was banished here. Therefore, it would be ridiculous, dishonorable, and most of all petty of me to mind such a minor detail.”

“Minor...?” Adam was filled with such overwhelming disbelief that he had to stand up in order to yell at Tenver more effectively. “Dude. I don’t think anything about this is minor. Trust is...”

He bit his lip hard enough that he nearly drew blood. As his most bitter memory threatened to resurface, he used the pain to force it back down. “Trust is the brick you pave your road to hell with. Someone has to be fucking flawless for you to even consider lending them twenty bucks, let alone entrust them with your life—the life of a city—I don’t even know where to start!”

Then, as if determined to seem even odder, Tenver burst out laughing.

“Please,” Adam begged, rubbing his temples as if that would cause Tenver to start making sense. “Please, tell me what’s so funny.”

“You.” When Tenver’s laughter faded, it left behind a wide grin. “Forgive me, but the sight of someone so concerned with my well-being that they try really hard to convince me they’re an evil bastard is, frankly speaking, hilarious.”

“That’s not it,” Adam snapped, “I just...”

Tenver held a hand up to cut him off. “I won’t prod into your past, but if one thing is clear, it’s that you have good reason for not wanting to put your faith in someone so easily. You don’t trust me, do you?”

“No.” Adam’s answer came promptly. He didn’t regret saying it, although he certainly felt guilty upon seeing a flash of hurt pass over Tenver’s face. Don’t do this. I didn’t ask you to trust me – you can’t ask me to do the same. Stop making me want to trust you.

Before he could voice his protest, the guard shook his head with a sort of bittersweet acceptance. “I figured,” Tenver stated. “But you can trust your own reasoning, can’t you?”

“What are you getting at?”

“Right now, you’re effectively a rebel. An usurper. In the eyes of the Emperor, this upstart Lord Adam is guilty of the highest of treasons. Unless you manage to convince the Emperor that you are a worthy subject, your position will remain precarious at best. Anyone who tries to kill you would be forgiven, and anyone who stands by your side risks execution.”

Adam drew a deep breath. “What about that?”

“Maybe you won’t believe any words of loyalty coming from my mouth, but the once-Baron Inacio might help. Remember him?”

“I do, but...” Adam trailed off, trying to understand Tenver’s game. Inacio, a former Baron, had lost his title to his more Talented younger brother and sought refuge in Aspreay’s court of banished lords. He didn’t make much of an impression on Adam outside of appearing even greedier and less caring of the common people than Aspreay himself had been. “Why would I be convinced by anything that guy says? Look, I might not trust you, but I value your word way more than his.”

“Please, just hear him out. He’ll vouch for my loyalty.”

“He wasn’t even present when I took Aspreay’s soul,” Adam protested. “Hell, the guy hates commoners – he’s probably gonna try to overthrow me or something. What the hell could he have to say that would convince me to trust you?”

“Humor me.”

Adam sighed. “Fine.” He nodded at the door. “Go bring him in.”

Tenver’s smile widened once more as he stood up. It was around this time that Adam began to feel a sense of dread lodging itself deep within his heart. There was something odd about the guard’s movements, but he couldn’t quite make sure what. It was like watching an accomplished actor turn in a low-effort performance – his actions and demeanor simply didn’t match his words.

As Tenver turned around and started walking, he pointedly didn’t make his way towards the door. Instead, he took three steps to the side, knelt down, and picked up a large, brown leather bag.

Adam watched with morbid curiosity as Tenver reached his hand into the sack and dug around inside. He could hear something jangling around, something that sounded heavier than gold, more tangible than Orbs. When the clattering sound became something closer to stepping onto a puddle, Adam abruptly felt his vague sense of dread coalesce into an icy fear. It only worsened as he watched Tenver withdraw his hand from the bag.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

In his grip were the bloody, severed heads of three men, their mouths still open in death, pleading for a mercy that had never come.

Among them was Inacio.

Holy...what the....is this a threat? Are you threatening me? Are you insane? Is this—what the hell—no—this—Adam felt himself go pale, and what little food he had inside his stomach threatened to escape his throat. Are you a psychopath? What the fuck is wrong with you? Is this what this world—

His racing thoughts ground to a halt when he glanced up and saw Tenver’s innocent, slightly confused smile.

It looked pure enough to soothe Adam of his intentions, yet it also looked so pure that it inspired another type of fear in him. The first thing that came to mind was that Tenver seemed much like a cat; one who’d come up to his master holding a mouse and was wondering why he wasn’t being praised.

Maybe it was just how things were done here.

“You were correct about Inacio,” Tenver explained. “He wasn’t present for your show, so he wasn’t as scared of you as the others.” The lighthearted casualness in his voice clashed heavily with the gore in his grip. “As you slept, he started openly speaking of rebellion. Too openly. Couldn’t pretend it wasn’t happening and let it slide. People appeared hesitant, and for a moment, Edmundo Crepusculo’s bastard son even seemed to consider it – alongside another courtier with dreams of ambition. So I killed the lot of them.”

Ah. Shit.

Adam had mentally prepared himself for many things. Dying was something he was completely ready for by now. Killing, he wasn’t super fond of, but he could at least conceptualize it. Still, in his imagination it was more of a noble exercise, something that happened after a brutal exchange of ideologies. Seeing those decapitated heads, blood dripping from the messy, sharp cut across their throats...those empty stares....it was almost too much.

Almost.

Not going to lose here. I can’t show weaknesses. Not now. Not ever. Eric taught me that.

“Good job,” Adam said, slowly. He forced himself to smile. “Thanks for seeing to things while I was asleep.”

“My pleasure!”

Adam stared at the grim reminders of his actions. “You were right. Lord Inacio is quite eloquent. His words are quiet, but I hear them all the same.”

“That’s perfect!” Tenver excitedly exclaimed. “I’m so, so glad you understand. To be honest, I didn’t have a fallback plan after this.”

Anyone who says dead men tell no tales had never met Inacio.

That decapitated head told of the guard’s unspoken argument.

Tenver tied his own fate to Adam’s with a string made of blood. Right now, Adam was a treasonous traitor who committed the worst of sins. To the Emperor’s eyes, Inacio and the other two were heroic soldiers enforcing his will. If Adam didn’t manage to convince the Emperor that it was better business to let him officially take over Penumbria...Tenver would die alongside him.

Adam nodded twice to himself, the gesture helping him steady his nerves. “So the bare minimum for our negotiation with Vasco is to get his support – ensure that he never helps the Emperor attack our city. And if possible, to get more trade deals. Something that can improve the Orb economy around here, maybe make it less miserable.”

“Aye, ‘my lord’,” Tenver replied, half-chuckling, once again finding humor in the title. It didn’t escape Adam that the guard had never bent his knee to him. “It will likely be a rough negotiation. We have much to ask, and not enough to give. Let’s hope that you’ve sufficiently frightened him into compliance. Otherwise, I’d say we’re doomed.”

“Yeah. I suppose we are.” Adam paused. “This is a big risk you’re taking, you know? There’s no guarantee I’m going to survive this. No guarantee I’m even gonna keep you alive, let alone be a good lord. Never go to a casino. You’re a shitty gambler.”

He’d hoped that would upset the guard, but it just made him laugh instead. “You’re one to talk after the stunt you just pulled. Aren’t you also taking a big risk?”

“I had no choice,” Adam shot back, defensively. “You saw my power. Do you think Aspreay or some other lord wouldn’t have wanted to take advantage of me? Imprison me for worse than painting on a time crunch? I had to do something, to build up a defense – this is just self-preservation.”

“Bullshit.” There was a cockiness in Tenver’s voice, a sort of suave taunting that Adam had never seen in him before. “If you had any desire to survive, you could’ve just hidden your power and lived a normal life. I gave you a chance to escape and do just that. Admit it; you have no survival instinct.”

“I–” Adam cut off his own words, his protests dying at his throat.

He remembered being on Earth and feeling hungry. There was enough money left at the end of the month to buy food, but only the same cheap microwave pasta that left him wanting to throw up. After a certain point, food started seeming more unappealing than the hollow yearning of his stomach. Adam still ate, but just barely enough to get through the day. Better to be hungry than to feel nauseous all the time.

He remembered holding his breath – as if hiding from a monster – after hearing a knock on his apartment door. The rent had been late, and his landlord had finally gotten tired of Adam’s missed calls. Even after he managed to scrounge up the money to pay for that month, he never quite got rid of the sheer panic that would approach his soul like a ghost every time he heard his phone ring or the knock-knock of knuckles on wood.

He remembered coming to this painted world and seeing people worse off than he had ever been, dying at the feet of the same type of people who’d once ruled over his life. People for whom the Rot was less of a danger than the Lord who called upon their taxes to be collected. Every petitioner in Aspreay’s court had the same eyes, the same nervous trembling Adam himself felt.

It shouldn’t be like this.

“I don’t want to survive,” Adam admitted, in a low voice. “If my only option is to beg for scraps, to feel the heel of some bastard like Aspreay on my face every time I want to come up for air...then I’d rather die – after killing them first. But...”

Adam grit his teeth. He hadn’t allowed himself to admit this, not even to himself. Not until now. He lifted his gaze and met Tenver’s eyes. “Even if I can’t say I want to survive, you can bet your soul that I want to live.”