Martin was in his Cathedral study, reading through one of the books of Kiam origin. It was translated into rough Santollian, and he was curious to see if he could detect the language to start studying it.

There was a knock on the door, and Martin looked up. “Come in.”

Navir walked through, a determined look on his face. “We are all going as unified High Elders to Tima the dressmaker’s shop. You will come with us and say nothing. Understand?”

Martin closed his book, trying not to show the anger on his face. “How long do you think you can keep this up? Indenuel is well beloved by many of the poor, including the Oraminians. You cannot attack him like this without serious consequences.”

“To do nothing is itself a danger,” Navir said.

“You yourself are asking me to do nothing,” Martin said.

“Are you coming with us, or staying here?” Navir asked.

Martin hesitated, realizing what Navir was asking of him. Show the High Elders were unified or be ostracized from the men who knew exactly how to destroy his life.

He followed Navir out of the Cathedral and down the steps, into the carriage. The carriage started off, making its way down to the shop streets of the city. Martin was staring out the window, trying to sort his thoughts together. Santollia City was still in an uproar over the wedding. People began to take sides, with the elites taking the side of the High Elders, and the lower classes taking Inessa’s side. Many of the upper class who got their status through the concubine law were outraged, almost dangerously so, at Inessa. The concubines said nothing, but Martin had a feeling he knew where most of their loyalties were. There were also some in the poorest class who still held out hope that they could be saved in their destitution. They still looked toward the High Elders as their saviors, and for that alone, Martin was uncomfortable.

Martin found himself in a tricky position. The elites hated him for marrying Indenuel and Inessa, and the lower class hated him for not doing anything else about it. He was more worried about Inessa, though. There were some vile hatred aimed at her that he doubted even she could have predicted. Especially from Navir himself.

The carriage stopped, and the High Elders got out at Tima’s dress shop. Cristoval was back home because of his health, but he could feel the worry and gossip gathering from the people on the streets when the four of them headed for the dress shop. He had a bad feeling Navir and Fadrique might start threatening her, and there was little he could do to hold them back.

They made their way into Tima’s dress shop, already drawing a crowd. Martin kept his face blank as a few guards walked in, clearing out all the women inside, waiting for them all to get what they need before the shop was deemed empty.

The High Elders walked inside. Tima was there, standing alone. She gave a stiff curtsey.

“High Elders, an honor to finally meet the men of the concubine friends I have made,” she said.

Fadrique almost growled. Navir placed a hand on his arm. “You are the dress maker Tima?”

“I am,” Tima said.

“And you are responsible for that obscene wedding dress worn by Inessa, wife of Indenuel the Warrior?” Navir asked.

Tima smirked. “I am.”

“Have you no shame for what you did?” Navir asked.

Tima folded her arms. “You have no right to arrest me, nor force confession out of me. The devil does not work in fabrics, so there was no way I marked myself to make a dress like that.”

“You might as well have,” Fadrique said.

Again, Navir squeezed Fadrique’s arm before dropping it again.

“I followed the rules. Inessa chose the color she wanted, and we worked together on a design. I triple checked all the rules and guidelines in the wedding book. Inessa and I are not wrong,” Tima said, her words quick and with confidence.

Navir’s eyes darkened. “We all know your work. You push the rules every chance you get.”

“On the contrary, High Elder Navir. According to High Elder Dalius’ most recent sermon, it is following the rules that sets us free. Free to use my creative expression. Like I said, I am the only designer for all your concubines because I understand this principle,” Tima said.

Dalius’ eyes narrowed.

“There is no way that slut dress could have possibly been approved by the rulebook,” Fadrique said.

“‘You are to use any design approved by Santollia,’” Tima quoted. She obviously spent weeks preparing for this very conversation. “Santollia is now the global power. One might even say dresses that are being made all over the world are approved by us, since you haven’t taken the time to say no to them. The dress Inessa wore was initially designed by Anashka the Tailor from Dengria. We honestly had to add the lace so it would be more modest. It was one of her tamer dresses, if I’m being honest. You should read about the styles in the lower half of Dengria. They are wild.”

Navir’s hands tightened into fists. Tima smiled in return. “We are going to double check all your sources.”

“Go ahead,” Tima said. “I have nothing to hide.”

Fadrique laughed. “I doubt that very much. People only say that when they do have something to hide.” Tima’s smile dropped ever so slightly to make way for a look of confusion. Fadrique nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

Tima furrowed her brow. “Are you threatening me?”

Martin stared just above Tima’s head, saying nothing, waiting for this to be over.

“Threatening? No, Tima. Unless you have sins you have not yet confessed to us. Then we would have to deal with that accordingly,” Fadrique said.

Tima did not have the study or training that a Graduate would have. The anger and fear crossed her face practically at the same time.

Navir took a step forward, and Tima looked at him, not taking a step back. “We will return to continue this conversation. You think long and hard about what we’ve talked about. I am certain we will see you again.”

Tima kept his gaze, still showing the anger and the fear, but not backing down. Navir turned around, nodding at the other High Elders before leaving the shop. Fadrique followed soon after. Martin couldn’t help but glance at Dalius. He waited only a moment or two before following behind Fadrique and Navir, his face not at all worried nor did it show that he was at all concerned for what just transpired. Martin had no choice but to follow. He had his hand on the door before concern made him glance back. Ari had come from the back, looking terrified as she walked closer to Tima. Tima took her hands, whispering words of comfort. There was something in that look, like Tima was begging Ari to be calm. Ari was starting to panic, the terror plain in her face. Martin saw it. The desire to hug Ari. To give her comfort. But not as a friend. As something deeper.

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Martin’s heart sank into his stomach. He knew exactly what they were hiding from the High Elders.

Tima glanced up, her eyes widening as she saw Martin still looking at them. Ari immediately let go of Tima’s hands and took a few steps back, which proved his suspicion. Martin said nothing as he turned around and left the shop, listening to the other three High Elders have their discussion as they moved it inside the carriage.

“This isn’t over,” Navir said as the carriage headed back toward the Cathedral. “We must always keep watch on her while we check her sources. She will get comfortable and start to drop whatever guard she has. She will eventually make a mistake, and we will find out what her secret is.”

Martin didn’t dare speak. Not that they would let him. He already proved he was nothing more than the fourth member of the High Elders, and he didn’t dare trust himself with this secret.

“Dalius, double check Tima’s sources in the rulebook. Make sure she’s telling the truth,” Navir said. Dalius nodded.

“I’ll comb through her personal history, find anything she might have done, small or large,” Fadrique said.

“Martin?” He tore his gaze from the carriage window to look at Navir, his heart pounding in his chest. “Stay out of our way, understand?”

Martin’s nod was short, and he didn’t verbalize anything. He didn’t dare.

“We work swiftly, but patiently. We have months to weed her out if we need to, but we will get her. In fact, all of you come to my study at the Cathedral once we arrive and we will plan out what we need to do to Tima.”

Martin continued to look out the window. “Do you need me there?” He didn’t dare look at Navir.

“No, Martin. We don’t,” Navir said.

Martin gave a short nod. He would use this to his advantage.

They arrived at the Cathedral. Martin got out of the carriage, watching the three High Elders brush past him, ignoring the fact that he remained on the steps of the Cathedral. He watched the three of them walk inside, conspiring together to figure out what Tima was hiding when he already knew.

Martin walked toward the back to his personal carriage, bowing to his driver before telling him to make it look like he was returning home before circling around and heading back to Tima’s shop, making sure he did not go past the Cathedral. The driver nodded as Martin climbed inside.

Martin sat with his back straight and eyes forward as the driver complied to his wishes. Once the Cathedral was out of sight, Martin pushed down the privacy screens before leaning forward, covering his head in his hands, and letting out an unsteady breath. Two women were in grave danger, and he had to help them. He turned the other way while the High Elders did something he didn’t approve of, but he stumbled on their secret. If the other High Elders discovered it too, Tima and Ari would disappear, and if their bodies were ever found, it would look like an accident. Probably their husbands as well, if the pattern followed.

Martin covered his mouth with his two palms, his heart pounding in his chest. His hands may be tied in some things, but he couldn’t look away again while two people were murdered. Especially Adosina’s friends. He couldn’t be there at their funeral and comfort Adosina while he knew exactly why they died.

Martin situated himself again in his carriage, the emotions finally out. He gathered himself, preparing for what he had to do. Those women needed to leave Santollia City by the end of the day. He needed them to disappear on their own accord, if it was possible.

If the other High Elders were bent on using justice, he would have to use mercy wherever possible. He still felt his hands were tied in this situation, but he needed those women to be safe.

The carriage stopped. There was a closed sign over the store. Him returning while wearing his High Elder robes wasn’t necessarily subtle, but neither was his carriage. Already there were shoppers looking at the carriage with curiosity. Martin headed for the door. The sign was there, but the door was still unlocked. He opened the door and walked inside.

“We are closed!” Tima called from the back. Ari’s sobs were dangerously loud as he heard Tima trying to calm her.

“I need to speak with you both,” Martin said.

His voice stopped Ari’s sobs short. They didn’t appear from the back, so Martin glanced around the shop, admiring the dresses and the skill of the tailor who created them.

Tima pulled the curtains back, giving Martin a distrustful look. A thousand emotions crossed her face before she stepped forward.

“High Elder Martin,” Tima said, giving another small curtsey.

Martin bowed in return before he saw Ari through the curtains, collapsed in a chair, staring at him in horror. “Martin is enough of a title,” he said.

Tima frowned, still watching him carefully, moving the curtains back like that would somehow protect Ari. “What exactly do you plan on doing with us?” Her face hardened.

Martin watched Tima before turning away, studying her desk. “You have something to write on?”

Tima frowned. Clearly she didn’t expect that answer. She moved with heavy steps toward the desk, gathering the materials for him. She folded her arms as Martin wrote out his message. He tore the small section of paper he wrote on before offering it to Tima.

“Get out of Santollia City tonight. Do not tell anyone where you’re going,” Martin said.

Tima frowned before taking the note and reading it quickly. Permission from Martin the Healer to start her shop in any town or city she chose. Tima’s frown deepened.

“So… run away and hide?” Tima asked.

“Yes,” Martin said. “It’s all I can offer now. The other High Elders will not look so kindly on it if your secret is discovered.”

Tima’s glare hardened. “We can’t do this our entire lives.”

“I’m sorry. Truly, but the other High Elders will find out that you and Ari…” Martin couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“Are lovers,” Tima finished for him, her voice dark.

“And your husband? Ari’s husband? They…”

“Are lovers too,” Tima finished again.

Martin’s nod was short and grim. “All of you get out. The High Elders will only need a week to discover your secret, if that. You caught Navir in a bad mood.”

Tima started to laugh, staring at the page. “So, you grant us the mercy of running away. Again. Do you know how weary we are? How mentally taxing it is to hide?”

“I don’t think you understand how dangerous this is,” Martin said.

“We know exactly how dangerous it is,” Tima said, her voice sharp, not any louder. “We risk death every day for being who we are. Every night she spends in my bed I fear for her safety. I cannot wake up to her because I am too terrified someone will notice and send her to her husband’s bed to keep up the lie. Any moment we could die in an accident to the rest of the world, but a threat to those who are like us. You don’t just want to silence us. You want to kill us.”

Martin didn’t say anything. Tima had tears in her eyes, and she looked so angry they were there. Ari parted the curtains enough to watch, the terror in her own eyes.

“I am tired of pretending I don’t feel anything for Ari. I have wasted years trying to fix what I thought was broken. Do you even know what that’s like? To grow up thinking you’re broken? And that you’re the only one in the world that feels this way? Because people like you isolate us?” Tima shoved the paper back at Martin and he had no choice but to take it.

“Tima, please. There is little I can do to stop the High Elders from discovering you. They will murder you, Ari, and your husbands. I cannot let that happen. You’ve got to leave.”

“And how long will it be before these other townsfolk or city folk find out who we are too?” Tima asked. “How much longer do we have to hide, fearing for our lives, before you feel comfortable enough to acknowledge our existence?”

“I’m sorry, Tima,” Martin said, knowing how pathetic it sounded. “There is nothing I can do.”

Tima spat in his face. Martin closed his eyes, taking it. Ari gave a gasp, rushing over to Tima, grabbing her hand to back her away from Martin. “Quit pretending the feelings I have don’t exist. That is what you can do.”

Martin raised his arm, using his sleeve to wipe the spit from the side of his face. He opened his eyes, holding the paper back out for her to take. “Please. Think of the people you love. Don’t let them suffer.”

Tima finally tore her gaze from Martin to look at Ari, her face softening considerably. Ari was pale and frightened, holding Tima’s hand, tears in her eyes.

“He’s trying to help,” Ari whispered. “Don’t antagonize him. Please.”

Tima’s jaw hardened before she looked at Martin again. Martin forced the paper into Ari’s hand. She took it, holding it close. “The High Elders believe… there is doctrine proving that…” Martin wiped his face again. “It was five marked gentlemen who caused the Great Flood.” Tima and Ari might as well know. They deserved to know that much. “It was also said the five of them felt this love toward other men. As they are the only men acknowledged in the doctrines and scriptures, we High Elders assume that means all people who feel this way are a danger.”

Tima’s glare somehow turned darker. Ari stared, wide-eyed.

“So, you assume because these five gentlemen were evil, that the rest of us are too?” Tima asked. Martin said nothing. “I don’t know why a person would mark themselves, but after hiding who I am for thirty-three years, I’m starting to sympathize. And if the High Elders of their time treated them the same way you treat us, maybe the lesson isn’t that these five men were evil, but that abused people can only take so much.”

Martin didn’t know what to say. He looked between Ari and Tima, terrified for their safety, hoping Ari would help Tima leave.

Martin placed his hands in his sleeves before giving a bow. “May God bless you in your travels. Please get out of the city before the High Elders send guards to watch you.”

Ari’s eyes widened again, looking at Tima with horror. Martin turned around and headed out of the shop.