He was frozen in place, his body vibrating with adrenaline and anxiety. But then he remembered how they had been talking about his mother and a fire ignited in his chest. He eyed Aunt Julia and the others with a cold look.

The expressions on their faces said it all. How much had he heard?

He wasn’t strong enough to let them feel his anger. The confrontation sounded both exhausting and terrifying. And even if he were, his promise echoed in his mind. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

Forcing his lips out wide in some semblance of a smile, he replied, “Hi, Aunt Julia.” His body felt stuck at the threshold into the dining room. Common decorum suggested he should grab breakfast from the assembled buffet and sit with his family.

Common sense screamed at him to whip around and sprint out of the room.

In the end, he found his feet moving forward of their own accord and he reluctantly accepted his fate. As he strode to the array of food, Crunch followed him in, only a half-step behind. Bloodstain and Burgundy trailed at the door, but had deferred to Crunch since Terry had rescued him from recycling.

As Terry reached for a plate, a shocked gasp startled him. Turning toward the sound, he saw a half-dozen wide eyes staring toward him. His little cousins’ mouths were wide like saucers, while his aunt’s lip curled up in a scowl. At first, he thought their looks of disgust and shock were directed toward him…until he followed their stares and realized it was Crunch that had grabbed their attention.

“What is that…thing doing here?” his aunt asked with open disgust.

Terry pointedly examined Crunch, who was scanning the corners of the room and even went over to the buffet table to glance under the tablecloth—for what, Terry wasn’t quite sure. The room had no doubt been swept recently by ghouls, and they had passed by a dozen more patrolling the halls on their way up from the catacombs, but Crunch took his duties seriously.

“It looks like he’s making sure the room is safe,” Terry answered with a shrug. He started piling potatoes topped with melted cheese onto his plate. His mouth filled with saliva at the smell and he realized that he hadn’t eaten since the viewing. For some reason, it had felt wrong to eat more than the bare minimum so soon after…everything.

“I can see that. What I mean is: why hasn’t that thing been recycled?” she asked, her tone icy.

The room stilled.

When Terry glanced up from the buffet table, everyone at the table was glancing between his aunt and him. Then, his eyes tracked over to see her clutching Maxina and Marcus to her chest…as if Crunch were dangerous. For some reason, that angered him even more than her tone. The mere suggestion that the ghoul who had saved his life only days prior would somehow go on a rampage in the palace and eat her stupid little brats.

He purposefully continued piling food onto his plate, afraid that if he looked at his aunt, she’d see his contempt for her.

“He’s perfectly capable of serving as my bodyguard,” Terry replied, scooping a heaping pile of scrambled eggs onto his plate with a bit more force than was strictly necessary. “There’s no reason to—” He stopped himself from using the term recycle, because it felt like piling even more disrespect on top of his aunt’s rude question. Though he didn’t agree with their sense of sacrificing their bodies to their clan, he should at least respect their traditions. “—evolve. I want him with me and he’s agreed.”

“Well, that just won’t do, nephew,” she replied with a huff. “You know my uncle’s stance on recycling damaged servants.” She snapped her fingers and waved her hand toward the door imperiously. “Ghoul, report to the Evolution Chamber to be recycled.”

Terry’s plate clattered to the table before he could stop himself. He whirled on his aunt and took some small pleasure in the wide-eyed expression on her face.

“No.” His tone was flat.

Her eyes hardened, narrowing to thin slits as the corners of her lips turned down. “What do you mean, ‘no,’ young man? You’re a child and I am your elder. This servant is damaged and hideous and scaring my little darlings. It must be recycled!” Then she leaned back in her chair, lifting her chin with a haughty expression. “The Emperor’s orders are very clear on the matter.”

Heat rose to his face and his legs trembled. His mind was mired with adrenaline and indecision. Seeing this, his aunt’s face shifted slightly. There was the smallest twitch at the corner of her lip that might have been a smirk. It was the look of someone assured that they were about to get their way.

He had always treated adults with respect and deference—had been raised to do so by his own mother. But something about her death made him question things that had once seemed important. Even though it had been important to his mother, he had to wonder: what was the point in treating obviously terrible people with respect?

He took a deep breath to steady his voice. “I’m not sending Crunch to be recycled,” he said with as much confidence he could muster. “My father won’t make me.” It sounded childish even to his own ears, but he meant it. If she tried to force the issue, he’d ask—beg, if needed—his father to intervene. Even if it meant breaking his pact not to speak to the man until he apologized.

He thought that would be enough to dissuade her, but her smirk only widened.

“Your father isn’t in the city,” she said. “He’s gone to invade Topeka.”

That threw Terry off and before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “Father left?” Without telling me? he added silently.

She nodded with obvious glee. “The Emperor, as well.” She gently extricated herself from the children on her lap and pushed back her chair. Coming around the table, she approached Terry. Behind her, he could see all the distant relatives watching her approach with equal parts fear and fascination. They were enjoying Julia throwing around her weight, so long as it wasn’t directed at them.

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As she approached, he was reminded of her towering height. She came to a stop in front of him, forcing him to look up. The divide in their adult-child relationship was suddenly vast and insurmountable.

“As the oldest Fairway left in the palace, it’s my duty to guide the servants and the family.” She put a hand on his shoulder that felt the opposite of comforting. “And with your mother gone, it falls on me to fill that role. Now, do as I say, Terry. It’s what your father would want. What your mother would want.”

His whole body trembled. The spot where her hand rested felt red-hot and he wanted to bat it away. More than that, he wanted to hurt his aunt for even mentioning his mother. He wanted to say, she was ten times the woman you are. But the words were stuck in his throat. Despite his rage, he was also intimidated. Who was he to argue with an adult? He may have been a prince, but he was also just a child. The living and the unliving servants would do as she said, with his father and the Emperor out on a campaign.

Whipvine! He could find Whipvine. The old Duelist would side with him. He loved Terry’s mother and despised Aunt Julia—the perfect ally. His stomach flipped as he realized the flaw in that reasoning.

Grandfather’s master-of-arms and arguably strongest revenant wouldn’t stay behind while he marched to war. Father is gone, Whipvine is gone…mother is gone…

With no parents and no allies, what could he do?

He wrestled with these thoughts as his aunt nodded sadly. “Good boy.” To Crunch, she waved her hand dismissively. “Report to be recycled.”

He wanted to shove her away. He wanted to shout out, call her all sorts of vile names, and demand that she rescind the order. But his throat tightened and he knew if he tried to speak, she’d hear the cry he was just barely holding back. Breaking down into a crying fit like a baby would only prove her point. Maybe he could excuse himself and intercept Crunch for the second time. Even smuggle him out of the palace to live in the crypts.

His aunt turned to sit, but paused halfway with narrowed eyes. “I gave you an order, ghoul.”

Terry spun around to see Crunch standing there unmoving. He had joined Bloodstain and Burgundy off to the side and was in the natural resting position the ghouls seemed to prefer—legs slightly bent, clawed-hands—well, hand—behind his back, and single eye forward. He had seen ghouls hold this position for hours without even the slightest twitch.

But he had never seen one ignore a direct order!

When he turned back to his aunt, her face was beet red and her nostrils flared. Her severe features that others considered statuesque carried an ugly cast in anger. She stormed up to the ghoul, her back to Terry. With a rough grip on Crunch’s arm, she tried to drag him away. He didn’t resist, but she found herself unable to budge the ghoul.

With a frustrated noise, she let go of Crunch and ordered once more, “Do as you're told! Report to recycling!” Her voice took on a frantic tone as she added, “You’re scaring my children!”

Terry glanced toward Maxina and Marcus in confusion. Though they had shocked expressions and seemed nervous about the situation, he would imagine it was equal parts Crunch’s appearance and their mother’s outburst that was responsible for their looks.

Turning to Bloodstain and Burgundy, his aunt shrieked, “Take this ghoul to be recycled. Now!”

A voice spoke from the doorway, and both Terry and his aunt jumped at the ice-cold tone.

“What is the meaning of this?”

A thin, older man with ghost-white skin stood at the dining room threshold, his wrinkled fingers interlocked in front of his waist. Wisps of gray hair were combed over a mostly-balding scalp. At first sight, it was easy to imagine the old man was weak and impotent. But one glance at the eyes betrayed the hidden power contained within. They swam with a violet light, restrained and languid for the moment.

Terry hadn’t expected to see one of the Emperor’s revenants left behind as he marched to war, but if any of the undead supers were qualified to hold Wichita together in the Emperor’s absence, it was Mesmer. From HeroWatch, he knew the undead super was a former villain, dabbling in elaborate cons, bank heists, and other acts of villainy. But if the criminal records didn’t exist, he wouldn’t have believed it. The older man was more a grandfather to Terry than the Emperor had ever been and his presence buoyed the boy.

The former villain swept the room with a piercing intelligence, taking in everything in a single glance; the distant family members studying their plates with sudden and profound interest; the two children staring at their mother with worry; the three ghouls at rigid attention.

And the Emperor’s niece clutching angrily at Crunch’s arm while Terry stood frozen behind her.

Aunt Julia was as startled as the rest of them, but recovered the fastest. She released Crunch and turned toward the newcomer.

“Ah, Mesmer. Just in time. We need the voice of the Emperor.” She waved toward Crunch imperiously. “This ghoul’s function has obviously been compromised. He burst into the dining hall, giving everyone a fright. Then he disobeyed a direct—”

“That’s not true!” Terry shouted. His pulse hammered in his temple and it took all of his self control not to physically lash out at his aunt. “He was just doing his job—”

“Quiet, boy!” she hissed. “Your elders are speaking—”

She cut off instantly as the revenant raised a hand in the air.

Without saying another word to Terry or his aunt, the revenant turned to the three ghouls and began conversing in rapid fire ghoulish. The ghouls immediately bowed low, while Crunch addressed the revenant’s question.

He couldn’t follow the response, but he thought he heard the words, ‘prince’ and ‘request.’

When Crunch was done, the revenant turned back to them.

“I ordered this ghoul to the Evolution Chamber this morning,” the revenant said.

Terry immediately felt his stomach flip. No, I can’t lose Crunch again. I’ll call dad—via Wraithglass, if needed.

He prepared to say as much, but something about Mesmer’s expression stayed the argument he had been brewing.

“He may remain as your guard, young prince.” What? He can stay? Terry wanted to pump his fist, but every eye in the room was on him and the revenant’s next words tempered his rising excitement. “For now, anyway. Once the Emperor returns, the decision will lie with him. Understood?”

Terry looked around for a moment before realizing the question was for him.

“Oh, um, yes…uh, thank you, Mesmer.”

The man nodded before turning toward Aunt Julia. “As for you, young lady.” Young lady? Terry thought. “Should you have any further issues with our undead friends, you are to come to me first. Are we clear?”

Terry was slightly behind his aunt, so he couldn’t see her expression. But if the tightness in her voice and the trembling in her legs was any indication, she was raging mad. “Yes, Mesmer.”

“Then you may go. Breakfast is finished.”

The scrape of chairs being pushed back filled the room as the family members who had been frozen at the table finally saw their escape. Aunt Julia whipped around to stare at Terry, her eyes wide with unbridled rage. He had to resist taking a step back under that wild stare and a moment later, she stormed away. Gripping her children by the arms, she nearly dragged them out of the room.

Terry watched everyone filter out of the dining hall until it was just him, the three ghouls, and the revenant. The old man watched the others leave, then turned to Terry.

After a moment that stretched forever, the revenant inclined his head and spoke. “Apologies for not finding you sooner, Terry. My duties have taken priority since the attack. But know that you can always come find me if you need an ear to bend.” He turned to leave, pausing at the door. His voice was whisper quiet. “Your mother will be missed.”

Then he was gone, leaving Terry in frozen silence.

His mind churned, not quite believing what had just happened. Though he hadn’t been able to stand up to his aunt, a feeling of triumph blossomed in his chest all the same. Crunch was here to stay!

At least, until the Emperor returned, that was.