Martin got out of his carriage. He had finished sending the notes of Indenuel’s confession to Navir, but he wanted to talk to Fadrique personally.

Fadrique’s servant opened the door and noise could be heard within. Almost too noisy.

“Martin,” the servant said, bowing.

“Forgive me, I seem to have stopped by unexpectedly, but I would like to talk to Fadrique.”

“High Elder Fadrique is busy, sir,” the servant said with another bow.

Multiple women laughed and giggled from the southern wing of the house. The servant looked as though the giggling never happened, which drew Martin’s suspicions.

“Give the message to him once he’s… done. I wish to speak with him in person.” And remind him of the law in person. Only one concubine at a time.

“Of course, sir,” the servant said. “I will, um, slide a note under the door.”

He smiled, hoping it didn’t look forced. “Thank you.”

Martin turned and left. He of course had no problem believing Fadrique and Indenuel didn’t get along. A lot of people chose to avoid Fadrique when they could.

***

It took well into the evening before Indenuel felt like he had all his thoughts down. There were numerous pages scattered around the desk and the floor. Tolomon was in a chair, reading a book he’d found in the study.

Indenuel finished signing his name and looked at the page.

Dear Nathaniel,

Thank you for your letter. It was a reminder that my actions do carry, even outside of Santollia City.

The truth is I am still experiencing a shock about my identity. I’m still coming to terms with what I have to do. And now that I have met the members of the High Elders, there are qualities in these four men I dislike. They asked me to lead an army to win a war to give them world power, and I don’t want to. As the Warrior, I feel like I should have a say, but they are trying to stifle the voice from me. I’m supposed to do what they want to give them what they want, and I hate it. But if I don’t fulfill the prophecy, Kiam wins.

I’m in this perpetual struggle, and there doesn’t seem to be any reprieve from it. I am given a choice between two evils. One evil is comfortable and familiar, where Santollia wins the war, and the High Elders have all the power. The other evil is unknown, where Kiam wins. Where several unknown and unfamiliar factors enter the world. They might even re-introduce slavery. I hate these two choices. It exhausts my soul to swim from one idea to the other, and every time I pause to take a breath, I am pulled deeper under the water.

If you do not have an answer, that is fine. Being able to write out my thoughts in a way has helped me sort through my problems. The problems still exist, but at least I know what they are.

-Indenuel

He set the paper down, tapping his finger against the desk. He didn’t know if he was going to send this. It was raw, it was blasphemous. To give it to a servant who would then give it to someone in Nathaniel’s army who was a tree talker before giving it to Nathaniel himself, there was no wonder tree gossip was a thing. Three people would know the Warrior did not like the High Elders. Granted, official tree talkers carrying letters were sworn to a certain amount of secrecy, but one could never be too careful. Despite all that, there was still the obvious fact that Nathaniel was Martin’s son. Indenuel didn’t shy away from stating that it was all the High Elders that annoyed him. Nathaniel would know Indenuel had issues with his father. In fact, he still held a small resentment toward Nathaniel himself.

Indenuel picked up the quill again, dipping it in the ink before adding one more thing to the bottom of the letter.

Added - Why didn’t you tell me about Inessa?

He placed the quill back and stood, blowing on the letter to help it dry.

“Done?” Tolomon asked.

“Yes,” Indenuel said.

“Pablo will take it to one of your tree talking servants,” Tolomon said.

“I don’t know if I want to send it,” Indenuel said.

Tolomon closed his book. “Why not?”

“It’s… it’s a little…” Indenuel didn’t know what to say, so instead he picked up the paper and handed it to Tolomon. He stood, taking the letter, reading over it.

“I see,” Tolomon said as he finished.

“I doubt Nathaniel wants to know all that,” Indenuel said.

Tolomon said little, checking the back of the paper again before glancing through the letter again. “Do you want advice about your situation?”

“I do, yes,” Indenuel said.

“Then send it to Nathaniel,” Tolomon said, passing the paper back over to him. “He’s great at that sort of thing. He does this disgusting thing where after you talk with him, you feel like you’re a better man than you are. That man has some God-like powers, I swear.”

Indenuel smiled, knowing exactly what he meant. “Well, I mean, do you have any advice?”

“I’m not allowed to speak ill of the High Elders,” Tolomon said.

Indenuel frowned. He met Tolomon’s gaze, studied his face, saw how impossible it was to read an emotion from him. “Pardon?”

“I cannot speak ill of the High Elders. It would be best to send this to Nathaniel as quickly as possible.”

Indenuel took his letter back, still studying Tolomon’s impossible-to-read face. “Would you speak ill of the High Elders if you could?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Tolomon said.

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“But you just said-”

“I am not allowed to speak ill of the High Elders,” Tolomon said.

“So, you would, if you could.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

An unexpected chill traveled through him as he saw Tolomon’s perfect, emotionless face. “Would Nathaniel be… be allowed to talk ill of the High Elders?”

“He is not a Graduate, therefore he’d be as free to speak of them as he wished. Whether he had the same experiences as me, I very much doubt,” Tolomon said.

“And are these – experiences – good?” Indenuel asked.

“I am not allowed to speak ill of the High Elders,” Tolomon said, once again perfectly emotionless.

Indenuel stared at him, the chill again creeping over him. “You realize this is making me think less of them, right?”

There wasn’t even a twitch of the eye. Complete, total control of his face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Indenuel tapped the paper against the desk, dread threatening to take over. “Right, um, let’s find Pablo. I would now very much like to send this letter off to Nathaniel.”

Tolomon nodded, finally smiling. “Good.”

The sun was beginning to set when Indenuel left his study and he found Pablo walking toward the dining hall.

“Would you like dinner, sir?” Pablo asked.

“I would. And could you have this letter sent to Captain Nathaniel? High Elder Martin’s son?” Indenuel asked.

“Right away, sir.”

Indenuel watched the letter fall into Pablo’s hands. He had no idea what Nathaniel would respond with. He would have to wait and see. Indenuel hoped Nathaniel would make everything seem better, but after his conversation with Tolomon, he wasn’t so sure.

Indenuel again studied Tolomon’s face, saw how much the man was not reacting to anything at all. Though he was curious to know what Nathaniel would say, he almost dreaded knowing what Tolomon knew. His entire conversation with Tolomon made him realize snakes were circling around him and he never checked to see if they were poisonous.

***

Martin was finishing up writing his Sabbath sermon in his study at his home when Derio walked in with Fadrique and gave a bow.

“Fadrique, hello,” Martin said.

Derio shut the door as Fadrique sat down on a chair. “What is this about? I have plenty of tree talking servants. You could have sent it through them.”

“This is about Indenuel,” Martin said.

Fadrique snorted before leaning back in his chair. “Isn’t everything about him nowadays?”

Martin’s eyes narrowed before he set his sermon down. “Then would you prefer we talk about the law of concubines? How a High Elder is only supposed to be with one concubine at a time?”

Fadrique smirked, his head bobbing ever so slightly. “Are you sure you want to talk about that oh so dreadful law, Martin?”

“Why did it take you so long to get here?” Martin asked.

“I didn’t expect you to accuse me of something so vile, but if you really want to get down to the letter of the law, I am following it better than you. You’re only helping one other family to get out of poverty. I am helping forty-three.”

“And you are to do it one at a time,” Martin said.

Fadrique smirked, then looked at the ceiling. “What is it Navir always says to get you to stop talking about this.” Martin tried not to show anything, but he felt his fingers curling in on themselves. “Oh right. Navir threatened to tell Sara about-”

“Enough,” Martin said, cutting Fadrique off. “We’re not allowed to speak of such things outside the High Elder’s library.” He didn’t like to think about it. Ever. Navir and Cristoval had proof of Martin’s involvement in an unspeakable deed and they threatened to tell Sara. Hung it over his head until Martin backed down and allowed the concubine law to pass. Martin tried to fight the disgusting behavior of such blackmail to get the law passed, but he eventually had to back down. He couldn’t go up against Cristoval and Navir when they had such leverage on him.

Fadrique’s smirk grew. “How convenient for you.” Martin glared at him, starting to understand why Indenuel broke down yesterday. “Keep your nose out of my business, and I’ll keep mine out of yours. That’s how we run the country, understand?” Fadrique started to stand. “So, we’re finished here?”

“Sit back down. We still haven’t discussed Indenuel.”

He plopped back down in the chair. “Is this about the confession? Because my tree talker already sent me those notes.”

“And you are not concerned at all that you were part of what made Indenuel break?” Martin asked.

“If he is far too sensitive to take my critiques and throw a fit about them later, there is little I can do to help him,” Fadrique said.

“Most of the victims yesterday were unconscious. The corruption I pulled out of Tolomon should have killed an elderly gentleman such as yourself,” Martin said.

Fadrique’s eyebrows furrowed. “You honestly think Indenuel would kill me?”

“Treat him with more respect, and we won’t have to worry about that,” Martin said.

“That boy is unstable. He is not fit to be the Warrior,” Fadrique said under his breath.

“He is someone with all four gifts, therefore he is the Warrior,” Martin said.

Fadrique stood up and headed toward the door. “Coddling the boy will not make him the Warrior.”

“Fadrique-” Martin began to say.

“I have no intention of changing how I teach him,” Fadrique said.

The door closed, and Martin gave a long sigh. He was grateful, at least, that he went on the year long trip instead of Fadrique. He didn’t know what would have happened if Fadrique traveled with Indenuel to Santollia City.

***

A frightfully familiar voice stopped Inessa in her tracks. Fadrique, here, and close. She dove toward a pillar to hide as Fadrique came out of Martin’s study. Inessa kept her eyes wide open, forcing herself to breath normally, finding every exit strategy she could.

She unbuckled her shoes for good measure, as the heel made too much noise. She slipped out of them and held them close, making sure she stayed out of Fadrique’s sight. He headed toward the front door, and she pinned herself against the back of the pillar, willing him to simply leave.

Sara appeared from the other side, and Inessa’s heart dropped.

Do not invite him to dinner. For this once, do not invite him.

It didn’t work. She heard the words “dinner” and “an honor” and knew the invitation was there. Inessa covered her mouth, her heart beating so loud she was certain they could hear it a few feet away at the front entrance.

“Ah, no, thank you,” Fadrique said.

Inessa’s shoulders relaxed, but she remained wary. Fadrique was still here, at Martin’s house, and she couldn’t drop her guard until he was gone in his carriage.

They chatted a bit more before Fadrique excused himself and headed out the front door. Derio closed it, and Inessa let herself breathe. She buckled her shoes back on, planning on going toward the other end of the house, too terrified to even see Fadrique.

She hardly took a few steps when she almost ran into Martin.

“Oh, hello Inessa,” Martin said.

“I… forgive me. I thought you were in your study,” Inessa said, giving a quick curtsey. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sara walk by. She ignored the two of them as though they didn’t exist, heading straight for the kitchen. Martin watched her go, he too ignoring Inessa until Sara was down the hall and out of sight. Inessa waited for the non-exchange, painfully aware of the hurt she had caused Martin and Sara’s marriage.

“No need to apologize. Is there something I can help you with?” Martin asked. The tone in Martin’s voice said he didn’t want to ask but did out of obligation.

“Um, no sir, I mean, Martin. No,” Inessa said. She gave another curtsey before turning around and heading back toward her room.

“Inessa?” Martin asked, quieter this time.

She turned, curious. She didn’t know what else Martin had to say to her. It wasn’t time for them to do what they needed to for another two days. “Yes, Martin?”

“You… you and Fadrique…”

Inessa waited, not daring to suggest anything. Jina drilled it into her head about the place of a woman in this world, especially one of her status. It was an honor to be married to a High Elder, and if she wanted to keep them happy, she couldn’t do anything to make them angry. She was already hiding enough of a secret from them.

“When you were…” Martin clearly wasn’t comfortable with this conversation. “During your time with Fadrique, did he ever…”

Inessa waited, watching, again, not daring to say anything. Martin obviously wanted to find out why Inessa was given to him so quickly. Fadrique only had her for nine months instead of the twelve Dalius and Navir did.

Martin gave a smile his eyes didn’t feel before nodding. “Nothing. Never mind. I will…” He looked so uncomfortable. If this was any other situation, she would have laughed, but a part of her hated how squeamish Martin felt around her. “I will see you… um…” She saw the realization dawn on his face as he realized they were going to be intimate tomorrow night. His face fell and the smile disappeared. “I will see you soon.” Martin winced.

Inessa gave a tiny curtsey before turning around and heading toward the stairs as fast as etiquette demanded of her.