CHAPTER 11

What is duty? What is honor? What is virtue? I will tell you.

It is a choice that you must make every single moment.

— A chivalrous philosopher

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GERALD’S PERSPECTIVE

A deafening silence filled the room. Gerald stood frozen, processing the events of the last few minutes. Gashon, ever composed and methodical, walked toward the table, sat down, and covered his face with his hands.

He’s not one to break often, Gerald thought. I haven’t seen him this distraught in the last 100 years.

Gerald had only been in direct service to the crown for a century, a role he had earned after proving his worth in the military—and, more realistically, after the last batch of guards had been fired.

For failing their singular duty.

Protect the King.

That phrase had been drilled into every recruit at boot camp. Training once took over a decade, but in the last 500 years, it had been shortened to a single year. Too much turnover, Gerald mused, too little time.

No one joined the Imperial Guard expecting to succeed. Perhaps a thousand years ago, the position had carried pride and prestige. But now? It was a cruel joke, whispered about in the noble houses. Protecting the King had become less about loyalty and more about posturing, a way for families to build prestige without real risk.

It worked to his advantage, though. The post kept him safe from Sector 7 and the Psyker Corps.

No one knows what goes on in Sector 7, Gerald thought darkly. And I don’t want to find out. The rumors alone were enough to keep most people compliant. Even noble families couldn’t fully protect their psyker offspring from recruitment. But the Imperial Guard? That was untouchable. For whatever reason, the Psyker Guilds and Corps steered clear of the Imperial Palace.

Now, the Guard was full of psykers like Gerald, using the role as a shield from conscription.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Not that it will matter if Alex doesn’t survive, Gerald thought grimly. If he dies, Gashon will clean house again. The old man wouldn’t hesitate to purge the guard entirely. He had done it before, and he would do it again. Especially now that the threat behind the royal deaths was becoming clear.

Gerald sighed. Would be lovely not to die. Or get fired.

The silence stretched until Gerald broke it. “Okay, Gashon, I was going to give you time to mourn, but don’t you think we need to talk about what just happened here? The implications—”

Gashon held up a hand, silencing him. He exhaled deeply and straightened. “First, there’s no guarantee Alex is dead. The creature made it clear they needed him for a purpose—a parlay of some kind.”

Gashon’s gaze hardened. “Second, yes, we need to act. Immediately.”

He leaned forward, his tone sharp. “First order of business: locate the notes of the professors who were involved in void research. I’m sure they left something behind, even if it’s incomplete. Second, we must identify the civilization that made the original contract with these beings. What were the terms? Killing off the royal line doesn’t strike me as acting in good faith, but that might not matter now.”

Gashon paused, his eyes narrowing. “Third—and perhaps most critically—we need to check for mental interference. The fact that we haven’t even considered these entities’ involvement until now suggests psyker influence. Perhaps an entire Psyker Guild is complicit.”

He locked eyes with Gerald. “Which brings me to you. Where do your loyalties lie, Gerald? Are you like the other nobles who have strayed from their duties? Are you aligned with the Psyker Guilds, pushing their agendas? Or are you one of the few who remain loyal to the crown and the ideals this empire was built upon?”

Gerald stood motionless, weighing Gashon’s words. He had never thought of himself as particularly loyal to the Charenvarns, but he had made an oath. That oath still meant something, even if the monarchy’s power had waned.

“I will assist you, Gashon, in whatever needs to be done. And I will support Alex upon his return,” Gerald said evenly. “All I ask is that you never put me in a position where I would have to act against the Charenvarns.”

Gashon studied him for a long moment, then nodded. “That is acceptable. And while there’s no time for formalities, I’d like to provisionally congratulate you on your new position as Chief of the Imperial Guard. It’s been vacant long enough.”

Gerald blinked, surprised. “Chief of the Guard?”

Gashon stood, gesturing for Gerald to follow. “We have much to do and little time. I trust you’ll rise to the occasion.”

As Gerald fell into step behind him, he couldn’t help but feel that his life had just taken a very interesting turn.

Where it will go, he thought, remains to be seen.