Martin’s spoon clinked as he set it back on his plate. Indenuel kept his eyes closed, not entirely certain if the black corruption entered his eyes.

“I believe talk of this sort is putting Indenuel on edge,” Martin said. “Perhaps a change of subject?”

The itching remained, strong as ever. Indenuel tried to ease his breathing, trying to force himself into a meditative state to keep the corruption at bay.

“Oh, I agree, though it is my assignment’s emotional state I’m most worried about. Perhaps Indenuel would benefit from a private chat with you? You always seem to give him such good advice.”

“Would that benefit you, Indenuel? I can only imagine what these past couple of days have done to you,” Martin said.

He opened his eyes, the itching still there. He glared daggers into his bodyguard. Indenuel picked up his glass of wine and drained the entire thing.

“I’m fine, sir. I’d like to say goodbye to the children, and then Tolomon and I will be on our way,” he said through gritted teeth.

Martin glanced between Indenuel and Tolomon, the frown tugging at his mouth. “Alright, if that is your wish.”

Indenuel stood. “It is, sir.” He moved out of the dining hall, and Tolomon was forced to leave with him.

The itching was still there. Indenuel followed a servant to where the children were playing outside. Rather, where Isla and Emilia were playing with Adrian while Matteo sat on the grass, hugging his legs, his head resting on his knees.

The sun had long since set. The four stars twinkled in the evening sky. Isla and Emilia stopped playing with Adrian and ran straight for Indenuel. He hugged them tightly, remembering what Tolomon slyly told him at dinner. His pride was getting in the way of seeing the children. His lack of confession would take them from him. But it didn’t seem like that to him. If he confessed, he would most likely be thrown in the dungeon until the marks were gone. At least this way they could write to him.

“Are you leaving?” Isla asked.

Indenuel nodded, brushing some of the hair from her face. “I am.”

“And we’ll be gone to school?” Emilia asked.

He nodded again, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You will.”

They hugged him again. Indenuel closed his eyes, the last of the itching dissipating as he held the two girls. The two girls he would kill for, but not confess for. Matteo stood up, brushing himself from the grass, keeping a respectful distance from Tolomon.

“I will write to you every day,” Indenuel said to the girls.

Isla began to tremble. “I don’t want to go. I want to stay here with Grandami Sara and you.”

Indenuel smiled before he pulled her away and gave her a pretend gasp of offense. “Grandami Sara has been in your life for two days and you already put her in front of me?”

She laughed before wiping a tear. “What if I hate it? What if the other children are mean to me?”

“Then you tell me about it, and I’ll march right over there and fix it,” Indenuel said. Out of the corner of his eye, Matteo shifted uncomfortably on the balls of his feet. “Get some rest before you leave.”

“Will you come visit?” Emilia asked.

Indenuel patted her on the shoulder, tried to smile. “Go say goodbye to Tolomon.”

The girls nodded as they walked over to Tolomon. Indenuel got up and walked over to Matteo. He, startled, took a few steps back and Indenuel froze. Matteo blinked back some tears. “I’m… sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

He didn’t move. He had knelt to hug the girls, but he didn’t have to do that with Matteo anymore. He was getting taller. Almost a man now. Matteo sighed, then walked over and hugged Indenuel tightly, and he squeezed him back.

“This changed nothing,” Indenuel said.

Matteo shook his head. “It changed everything.”

The boy broke away, not looking at anyone as he entered the house. Indenuel wanted to go after the boy, but he didn’t think he should. A servant came to collect Emilia and Isla, who were still talking with Tolomon.

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A shadow crossed the gardens, and with sinking heart he saw Martin coming toward him. Indenuel looked at the ground, glad the itching had finally gone.

Martin passed Tolomon and the twins before approaching him with a warm enough smile. “No harm will come to them while they are in my protection. I give you my word.”

“Thank you, Martin.”

He took Indenuel’s elbow, taking a few steps away from Tolomon, but Indenuel didn’t see any point. Clearly Tolomon could hear just fine.

“Is everything alright between you and Tolomon? Dinner tonight was strange,” Martin said.

Indenuel said nothing. He glanced at Tolomon, who turned his head enough to give a knowing glance before resuming his attention to the girls.

“I am aware spending most of your day with one person can start to get exhausting. If you feel it necessary, I can talk to the High Elders about getting you a reassignment,” Martin said.

Indenuel stared at his shoes, a lump coming to his throat. That would solve his current problem. Tolomon would stop poking holes in everything he said, and he could do his best with the new Graduate to keep his mark hidden as long as possible. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not that long ago he saved Tolomon’s life. He became like family, and the thought of replacing him was insulting.

“You don’t need to decide tonight,” Martin said, patting his shoulder. “Just let me know when you do.”

He nodded as a servant came to usher the girls to bed. They gave a final wave toward Indenuel, and he did his best to wave back.

The carriage ride home was silent. Indenuel tried to use the time to meditate. Tolomon placed a hand on the hilt of his sword the entire time. The silence between them prickled, but he refused to be the one to broach the subject.

Indenuel excused the servants as well as Pablo, wishing to change in his nightclothes alone. Pablo bowed before he and the servants left. Tolomon swiftly changed into his own nightclothes. The sour silence descended on them again as Indenuel turned his back and went to the wardrobe. He slipped his two shirts off and almost pulled on his nightclothes when Tolomon appeared in front of him with a candle. Indenuel leapt back in surprise. “Dammit, Tolomon.”

The man said nothing, simply held the candle up to see Indenuel’s chest better. He instinctively covered it with his unworn nightclothes but lowered them so Tolomon could see. What was the point? The man already knew. He brought the candle close, and emotions traveled across his face. Sadness, mostly. Something that looked like heartbreak. Disappointment, with a hint of frustration.

“Are you going to have me replaced?” Tolomon asked, still studying the marks. Indenuel stared at his nightclothes, not saying anything. “All that shit you said last week about me being family? Did you mean it? Or were you just trying to get out of a verbal beating?”

“Tolomon-”

“Yes or no. That’s all you have to say.”

Indenuel meet his gaze, seeing the shadows dancing around his face from the candlelight before he looked away again. The hurt, the anger, the frustration, it was too much. “I don’t want to replace you, but I will not confess. It won’t work. I don’t feel guilty for what I did.”

Tolomon shook his head. “You used corruptive means to murder. The devil is filling you with all sorts of lies to keep you from confessing. To make sure you keep going down this path until your soul is his.”

“I promise I won’t use the corruption anymore. And I don’t need to confess, because I’m going to get rid of the mark myself.” A sharp pain appeared in the back of his head before he even realized Tolomon raised his hand. “Ouch! Seriously?” He glared at Tolomon.

“That is the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard. There is no way you can do this on your own, so stop pushing away the people who want what’s best for you. You cannot keep up this lie.”

“Andres beat Matteo with a stick!” Indenuel hissed, the anger returning. “Lola starved those girls! They are evil! I did everyone a favor by killing them and stuffing them in Hell where they belong. No matter what you do or say, I will not feel remorse for that!”

Tolomon pointed a finger at Indenuel. “Sending people to Hell is not your responsibility. You are not God.”

“Well maybe God needed some assistance,” Indenuel said before pushing Tolomon away and straightening his nightclothes.

“You told me to remind you when you need it, and you need it now more than ever. You are a stubborn ass! You are so far into the devil’s embrace you cannot even see it.”

“I’ve healed the marks myself before, I can do it again,” Indenuel said, stuffing his arms through the sleeves of his nightclothes.

“Have you ever murdered with corruptive powers before?” Tolomon asked.

“No, but the principle still applies,” Indenuel said as he finished getting dressed.

Tolomon grabbed his arm, and Indenuel turned. His bodyguard was livid, there was no doubt about that. “If you wish to continue this game, then let me warn you exactly how it’s going to go. I will continue to push you, wear you down, and humiliate you until you either confess, or you have me reassigned. Understand?” Indenuel tried to shake him off, but Tolomon wouldn’t let him. He tried again, but Tolomon expertly pinned his hands to his side, forcing him to look at his deadly glare. “Understand?”

Indenuel glared back. “Let me tell you how this will actually go. I have no doubt you will continue to push me, wear me down, and humiliate me until I manage to get the marks off myself. Then you’ll see how powerful I am.”

Tolomon shook his head. “You saved my life physically. For that I… I have no words to express how grateful I am for that. But this… it is now my turn to save your soul. Because as much as you are a stubborn ass, I have come to consider you as a brother. You will confess, and I’m going to make sure you do it.”

Indenuel glared. “I can get rid of the marks myself.”

“And I will happily take you to Martin’s once you realize you can’t,” Tolomon said.

Indenuel narrowed his eyes before struggling once again in Tolomon’s grip. “Let me go, please.”

There was a moment, about three heartbeats long, where Indenuel was afraid Tolomon wouldn’t let him go, but he did. Indenuel straightened his nightclothes before climbing into bed. Tolomon was in his own bed, falling asleep almost immediately. Indenuel shook his head again. He wasn’t too tired, considering he slept most of the day. Instead, he sat on the bed and eased himself into the meditation state. He’d show Tolomon. The Day of the Devil was next week, and he expected to have the marks long gone by then.