Zott had been watching over the Shali, lurking just at the edge of the courtyard; his back against the wall, when it happened. Miss Nuna and Viseka were trying to teach Miss Komao a dance they had made up. Miss Lim was asleep on her mother’s lap, just out of the sun’s glare.

Miss Jiwat skipped onto the porch, a steamed bun in her hand. Something she had pilfered from the kitchen? It was almost lunch. Troublesome child.

Zott’s focus was on the dance practice. The Shali were not far from the duck pond. If they fell in, he was primed to jump and save them. It was the least he could do after he had failed so badly at the guest house. Humiliated Duke Ashem so terribly…

Zott could feel his critical eye, but the Duke was hidden in the gloom of the tearoom. With young master Ven having descended the mountain again, Zott was less on edge than usual but still couldn’t relax. Not while his previous infraction was so fresh.

“Darling! What’s wrong?” the voice of the Shana rang out.

Miss Jiwat had barely made a sound, her face blue, grasping at her jaw. Miss Lim was crying, woken by her mother leaping up to see to her other child.

He was at their side in less than a second. She had eaten something. The steamed bun must have been-

“Get away, you idiot!” Duke Ashem shoved Zott aside and frantically looked over his grandchild.

A servant had appeared in the doorway, attracted by the screams.

“Go fetch Bejuk at once! Or any healer you can find!”

That other Duke, who so often caused Zott’s master a headache, and his queer, ghostly protege were soon seeing to the ailing Shali. They had managed to keep her throat from closing up, but she was still pale and weak, slipping in and out of consciousness.

Zott’s stomach turned as he stood there, watching the healers, his Duke, and his Shana, tending to an innocent child he had sworn to protect. He had reached a new low. The guesthouse was a foolish mistake, but one the Duke could forgive with time. But this…

Something had to be done.

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Zott’s mind was whirring. When he thought of who must be responsible, he could only think of one name. Rae je Kaolin. That hateful shakje. Now, the Shak.

He might look meek and harmless, enough to have young master Ven fooled, but Zott knew that the Koalin Shakje was the beginning and end of his master’s troubles.

The Shak had ample motive to target the Duke’s family, to punish the Duke for his arrogance, the Shana for her marriage, and the Shali for their existence. For the Shak, those little girls were not innocent flowers, but weeds that needed to be culled.

The sight of Miss Jiwat’s twisted up face, the Shana’s tears, the sound of little Miss Lim’s wailing… Zott couldn’t wait around for his Duke to give the order. He didn’t know if answers would be enough to save Miss Jiwat, nor what questions to ask, but he was going to bleed all the information he could out of the one responsible. The other Shali would not suffer the same fate. This, he swore.

Whatever servants conducted the Shak’s wicked whims… he would skin them alive. Make them suffer ten times what Miss Jiwat was enduring.

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The Shak was easily caught. High up the mountain, with no one but a single fool to guard him. Smug in his victory. Perhaps always intending to be far from the palace when his trap was sprung. Clever.

Zott would make him regret it.

He let the Kaolin young master live for now. Once he had pried all the details from the Shak’s lips; then, he could punish the underling.

The poison he had crafted long ago worked wonderfully, leaving the Shak pliant, defenceless, wide-eyed, and drenched with sweat. It kept his mind just sharp enough to answer questions. Soon, justice would be had.

You’re wrong-

It wasn’t me, which means the true culprit is still at large.

There, there.

Zott knew he was unintelligent. Young master Ven had told him so often enough.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

The problem with you, beast, is your blades are sharper than your wits.

That moment, when doubt dawned on him, was easily the dumbest he had ever felt. He had arrogantly acted alone once again, deluded that he knew what his master would want of him.

He had acted recklessly, and now his mind had been cleared of adrenaline, he realised just how much more of a headache he might have caused. How angry his Duke would be. How young master Ven would sneer.

“Why don’t you tell me from the start, what has happened?” the Shak said after Zott had let him sit up. He was pale and shaking, the drug not entirely gone from his system yet, but he spoke very earnestly. His forehead glistened with a thin layer of sweat as he frowned at Zott. This weak thing thought he could help, wanted to.

Zott had trained himself to be observant, to notice any inconsistencies before him. Anything that might help him serve his Duke well. But at that moment his skills worked against him. He noticed the depth of the Shak’s eyes, the soft sheen of his mussed hair, the pale smoothness of his damp skin… The way his voice was quiet, gentle, and a little afraid.

Zott swallowed and explained how Miss Jiwat had collapsed, and how he had left just as Duke Bejuk was treating her.

“Bejuk and Sebi will take good care of her. Let’s go back down the mountain and see what we can do to help,”

Zott didn’t want to go. If the Shak didn’t order his death, Duke Ashem would. If the Duke spared him, there was young master Ven to consider.

“They’ll probably all be busy taking care of her. We can help by asking around, finding out where the steamed bun came from,”

Ah. Miss Jiwat was counting on him to find out who did this. It shouldn’t matter if he was walking to his execution or not, he had to do what he could to protect his master’s precious family.

It would take them far too long to walk back down to the palace, what with the treacherous terrain and how shaken the Shak still was. Zott had learnt his lesson about acting on his own for the time being, so resisted the urge to throw the Shak back over his shoulder and start sprinting.

He was as light as a maiden, it wouldn’t be difficult…

Instead he walked painfully slow, offering his arm when the Shak seemed unsteady on his feet. His didn’t speak until the Shak broke the silence.

“So… will you tell me your name?”

“Zott Wolavu,”

“Wolavu… So you’re not from camp Ashem?” The Shak spoke in a light and quiet voice that felt like a play at friendliness but couldn’t fully mask his nerves.

Zott had his own nerves, not just at the death that was likely awaiting him, but at the difficult direction the conversation was going.

“Not by birth,”

“How did you end up serving Duke Ashem?”

Zott bristled at the question.

“My loyalty won’t be bought,” he said simply, saving the Shak the details of their arrangement.

“Oh, I believe you,” the Shak laughed. Quietly, but a genuine laugh!

Zott didn’t know if he should laugh back. It didn’t seem like he was the butt of the joke, but the situation was hardly amusing.

“I never properly introduced myself, I’m Rae. Is there anything you want to ask me?”

So friendly. Pathetically transparent. But a clever tactic. To try and humanise himself to the attacker who had overpowered him twice. To make himself harder to kill. Little did the Shak -or Rae, as he so wished to be called- know that Zott would never let sentiment get in the way of one of his master’s orders. Still, it couldn’t hurt to play along. It might just save his life.

“That useless guard, why do you keep him around?”

“Gaori? He’s my cousin, and my oldest friend. And he’s not useless,” Rae said. He didn’t offer any explanation for that last point, which made Zott think it was perfunctory.

“If not you, who else might have tried to kill the Shali?” Zott asked, hoping brainstorming potential targets might settle his nerves.

Rae was quiet for a moment before saying, “I can’t say. I don’t know what’s gone on in this camp in the last twelve years. Do Duke Ashem or the Shana have any enemies, other than myself, of course?”

It was now Zott’s turn to go quiet. His Duke was… Excellent. Just. Magnificent. But he wasn’t nice. Zott knew the leader’s of many other camps had quarrelled with him, and swiftly been brought under heel. His daughter too, had many rivals for the position of Shana when it first opened up…

“I haven’t been too involved in the affairs here. The Duke usually leaves me at home to keep an eye on young master Ven for him…” Zott said at last.

Rae laughed again. Louder. More freely. Zott couldn’t guess why, but the sound made him feel warm.

“Keep an eye on him? Does he get into that much trouble?” Rae asked.

“Hmm” Zott nodded.

He debated about telling Rae about all the pretty young things he’d had to chase out of his young master’s rooms. Or the many times he had gone out on impromptu hunts, or shared a bottle of wine with friends, when he was supposed to be performing duties. The way his young master had always known how to charm exactly what he wanted out of anyone, and didn’t care an inch for how his actions damaged the Duke’s reputation.

But if Zott told Rae all that, wouldn’t he be just as bad?

No. It might have been amusing to the Shak, but Zott had no place telling those stories.

At last, the rugged mountain levelled out to the stone path that led to the Shana’s palace. Upon confirming that Rae was well enough to keep up, Zott broke into a sprint, terrified about what he might find.