Just before noon, Ailn and Kylian paid a visit to Kylian’s old ‘friend’ the quartermaster.

They were trying to negotiate their way into the possession of a pipe and some tobacco to fill it. Kylian knew the quartermaster had tobacco—the problem is most of the knights liked to chew it.

“Will chewing tobacco do?” Kylian turned back toward Ailn, trying to hide his repulsion. “If nothing else…”

“Nah. Can’t stand the stuff.” Ailn’s reply was quick.

Kylian’s feelings were mixed. On one hand, having no similar vice of his own, Kylian found himself irked that a beggar was being a chooser. On the other hand, chewing tobacco was definitely cruder, grosser stuff.

He couldn’t stop himself from imagining Ailn sitting at the dining table with the Saintess and spitting irreverently into a chalice; Ennieux might fly into a rage right there and strike him with a candelabra, finishing what the culprit couldn’t.

Right. This was definitely for the better.

“I’ve seen you with a clay pipe before,” Kylian said, turning back to the quartermaster. “Don’t act as if you’re lacking the pipe tobacco to go along with it.”

“Oh yeah? When’d you see me with it?” The quartermaster wasn’t backing down. “If I ever had it, I don’t anymore.”

“I can pay for it,” Kylian sighed. “Quit being coy and just tell me what you want.”

The quartermaster crossed his arms. “A week’s pay.”

“A week’s?!” Kylian winced. “That’s insanity.”

“You need it, and I don’t have to give it to you. If you don’t have the coins, then I don’t have the tobacco.”

Kylian scowled as he pulled a tin coin out of a coin purse, and dropped them onto the table.

“I said a week’s pay,” the quartermaster said coolly.

“No knight in Varant works every single day of the week.” Kylian added a single copper coin. “Any greedier and I’ll simply take my chances looking through town.”

The quartermaster shrugged, then pocketed the coins, ambling back towards the barracks’ storeroom. A few minutes later, he emerged with a clay pipe and a small wooden box which Kylian checked. It was densely packed.

“Where are the matches?” Kylian asked.

“The hell? Provide your own.”

“Would you quit being a miser?” Kylian narrowed his eyes. “You shouldn’t even be peddling. Do you have matches or not?”

Grumbling all the while, the quartermaster relented and dropped some matches on the table too.

Did this really have to be so hard? He couldn’t help but resent the mountains he needed to move just so Ailn could squander his health away a little faster. Then again, he’d already gotten tired of seeing what was usually the finest of minds idle so miserably.

“I appreciate it. I really do,” Ailn said. “I won’t forget this.”

There wasn’t any need to be this melodramatic about it, but Kylian appreciated the gratitude nonetheless.

Opening the wooden box, he eyed the pipe a moment before deftly sprinkling tobacco to its rim and packing it down with his thumb. Kylian had half-expected his motor movements to be as hampered as his mind seemed to be, but Ailn moved just fine.

Was this mostly psychological, then?

Ailn then started lighting the pipe, shielding the wind with his cloak as he struck a match. This, Kylian knew, could be especially difficult—he’d seen more than a few knights’ attempts completely frustrated by the wind and moisture before. But Ailn had it in just a moment.

Soon, he was puffing lightly at the pipe and savoring it, eyes closed and serene, letting out a deep sigh as if he just now understood life in all its beauty.

Somehow, that seemed more pathetic than when he was restless and dim.

For a couple of minutes, he stayed quiet smoking like that.

“By the by, when does Aldous wanna see us?” Ailn asked.

“He wishes to meet with us after we have dinner with Lady Renea,” Kylian said.

Ailn made a face, presumably thinking about the upcoming dinner. Truth be told, Kylian wasn’t raring to attend either.

But he had many thoughts last night, as he restlessly considered the case. And he decided it would be best to see for himself.

“What’s your gauge on Sophie?” Ailn suddenly asked.

“...Quiet is the only word that comes to mind. But I suppose that simply means I don’t know much about her. Tonight should be an opportunity to learn more.”

“Isn’t it strange? We’re supposed to be so close, we meet regularly for one on one time—even though it starts rumors. But she cared more about me hurting Renea’s feelings than the fact I was alive.”

“Renea’s her sister, too,” Kylian pointed out. “That alone isn’t too odd of a reaction. A mediating sibling’s apt to choose the younger, more vulnerable one.”

“I’m the vulnerable one,” Ailn said, chuckling. He coughed a bit, from accidentally inhaling smoke. “Sure, I’m older. But I was just dead.”

“I suppose,” Kylian frowned. “I don’t think anyone’s reaction is going to be natural under the gaze of so many onlookers. Yours certainly wasn’t.”

“The problem was that my reaction was too natural, Kylian. When my head’s in the game I can put on a show as good as anyone.”

“That’s not something to take pride in.”

“Tell that to Renea.”

“...Are you implying she has an inauthentic personality?” Kylian asked. It was a sincere question.

He’d never given the matter much consideration. Certainly, she seemed to pander to the crowd; Kylian had always found it charming.

But with all he’d learned about the duchy these last two days, he felt as if the carpet had been pulled from under him. Discovering that the passage had led to the bestowal chamber had genuinely shook him.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

And knowing that the bestowal ceremony was moved there by Renea…

He didn’t know what to think, or who to trust anymore. Observing her through that suspicious frame of mind, Renea’s saintly mannerisms certainly did appear more saccharine than sweet.

“I’m implying she knows how to play a role, at least. ‘Oh dear,’ and ‘goodness me,’ and all that.” Ailn imitated a chirpy frolic with two of his fingers. “‘Oh, my darling dear baby boy, let me heal your boo boo.’”

This was an extraordinarily uncharitable portrayal of Renea’s selfless act of healing, but Kylian didn’t say anything.

“But…” Ailn took a moment to put his words together. “Her concern for me seemed like it could’ve been real. Who knows? I was out of it, and couldn’t get a good read on her.”

“Don’t you think that’s a bit cynical?”

“What is?”

“When you believe she’s faking her compassionate persona, you’re certain of it. When her concern seems genuine, you doubt your own judgment.”

Ailn didn’t respond for a while, seemingly struck by this. He stayed quiet and enjoyed his pipe. And when he finally spoke…

“You could be right,” Ailn admitted. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

Kylian had expected a retort, at least clever if not profound. But Ailn seemed to think his words over.

The snow was starting to fall again, landing wet on both their faces and bringing along a sky of dismal gray. If nothing else, though, Ailn seemed to take it with a better mood.

----------------------------------------

Every man and woman in the barracks had certainly heard of Ailn's revival by now, and perhaps half of the knights had actually seen him. The polite bows and strained silence spoke their true fears: no one wanted to be reprimanded.

Kylian almost felt like a fool, having wasted so much time on worries of heresy.

“...I would’ve liked to talk to Aldous before tonight,” Ailn said. He sounded concerned.

“Lady Renea and Aldous will likely spend the afternoon reviewing the state of the city-wide barrier, and discussing Varant’s security writ-large,” Kylian replied. “A discussion with Sir Fontaine would perhaps be more fruitful, at any rate.”

“And he is?”

“Sir Fontaine is the sergeant-prior, as well as the oldest knight in the Order. He most directly monitors the activities of the knights, including the master of the hounds. For Renea, who never met Duke Aaron or her paternal grandfather, he has been something of a grandfatherly figure.”

Surprisingly, Fontaine took a room adjacent to the gathering hall, a communal space. The knights socialized there, and it could get quite loud.

Despite the prohibition of drinking in the barracks, those recently returned from the northern wall were often inebriated with relief— which was enough to fill the gathering hall with poor singing and unruly shouts over games turned sour.

The gathering hall had but a single long table through the center of the room, though there were extra benches for seating scattered throughout.

At the far end of the table, near the entrance to Fontaine’s office, Kylian caught sight of Sir Dartune. Dartune, the master-at-arms, was staring at a chess board of leather, moving the painted stone pieces on top of it back and forth as he considered his moves.

Kylian hoped he would be too preoccupied with his game to notice his surroundings. Alas—

“Sir Kylian!” Dartune’s head rose with such suddenness, his sloppy beard flopped upward. “When will we have our rematch?!”

“Not now, certainly,” Kylian said, irritated. “I’ve no obligation to keep indulging you.”

Dartune was a good player and a sore loser who imagined himself the finest of strategic minds. Unfortunately, the Azure Knights fought shadow beasts instead of armies, a task that took more sensible administration than strokes of military brilliance.

Whether Dartune could’ve been a great general, Kylian truly didn’t know. But he was good at his job, and a friendly man—just very prickly when it came to this particular board game.

“How about a game with me sometime?” Ailn asked genially.

“...Certainly, Your Grace,” Dartune replied.

He said yes. But he looked extremely put off by the idea of wasting his time with a player he assumed was beneath him.

Before the offended Ailn could say anything, Kylian took the chance to escape the conversation, proceeding onward into Fontaine’s office.

Fontaine’s office looked much like Aldous’s—just smaller, and with a much more reasonable stack of parchment on top of his desk. At this point past middle-aged, the older knight did his work slow and steady.

“Sir Kylian, Your Grace,” Fontaine said, “what brings the two of you here?”

He spoke with the kind smile of a man who had just enough to do to not get bored.

“We’re still looking into the details of the attack the night before last,” Kylian gestured towards Ailn. “The attack on His Grace in the courtyard, and the appearance of the shadow beasts. Yesterday, I heard some rather unfortunate news about the kennel master.”

“Oh, yes well,” Fontaine grimaced and clasped his hands together in a slow gesture, “it’s a terrible thing what happened to Sir Envont.”

“The knights believe he was eaten by the shadow beasts?” Kylian frowned.

“It must be so,” Fontaine said, “as a body was nowhere to be found. Or perhaps…”

He trailed off looking thoughtful.

“Perhaps?” Kylian asked.

“He was not the most diligent of knights,” Fontaine said, looking quite sad about it. “A drunkard, really. If I were to speculate, I’d say it’s as likely he absconded or met bad company, than that he was attacked.”

“But he only disappeared two days ago,” Kylian said skeptically.

“We received his mandatory report as recently as then, yes,” Fontaine sighed.

“It’s a real shame no matter what,” Ailn said wistfully.

“It truly is,” Fontaine said.

“For a change to a cheerier topic,” Ailn started, “I was hoping you could help me remember a little more about my sister.”

Ailn’s smile was bright and inquisitive in a way that frankly left Kylian at least a bit unnerved. He was the perfect picture of fresh-faced naivete and brotherly love. If Kylian didn’t know any better, he really would believe Ailn’s desire to dote on his little sister was what produced the twinkle in his eye.

Nevertheless, Fontaine took the bait that had been laid out.

“Young master! Why, I thought you would never ask,” Fontaine said. And his smile was cheery indeed.

“It’s just…” Ailn’s face turned overcast like the clouds outside. “I don’t even remember our childhood. What was she like?”

Kylian wasn’t quite sure what relevance their childhood would have to the case, but he didn’t question it; after all, the seeming larks Ailn often stepped out on seemed to always pay off. It was remarkable how often what appeared to be wild goose chases would hit their mark and bag the quarry.

“Oh, it’s a shame Your Grace! If only you could remember how she used to follow you around like a duckling.” Now Fontaine’s eyes were twinkling, but his with the fondness of memory. “When you were sent out of the castle she cried and cried all day.”

“Really now.” Ailn tilted his head. “I suppose she never was one to care about status?”

“Never,” Fontaine said.

“Sounds like she was a smart kid, then,” Ailn said.

“The brightest child I’ve ever seen! My Lord, I remember how shocked I was to hear her speak before she was even a year in age! She had naught the teeth for proper speech, so she toddled around babbling ‘Va’unt’ and ‘Suh-wuh Fah-te!’”

“... That young, huh?” Ailn said. “Did she ever talk about anything strange growing up?”

“Strange?” Fontaine’s lips pursed in thoughtfulness. “Nothing comes to mind. I suppose…”

“You suppose?” Ailn asked.

“She was always a very introspective child. I…” Fontaine's eyes were downcast. “I suppose you of all people should be aware.”

“I understand it’s hard, Sir Fontaine,” Ailn’s body language seemed to mimic Fontaine’s at every turn. “But you can trust me. I only want to know about her because I care.”

“That child… “ Fontaine’s eyes met Ailn’s with earnest. “Lady Renea even from the youngest of ages had difficulty opening up to people. Even her own family.”

“... What about our mother?” Ailn asked.

“Lady Renea and Lady Celine…” Fontaine’s brows furrowed, and his eyes looked a little pained. “You were the first to bring her out of her world, Your Grace.”

Fontaine gracefully avoided directly answering the question.

“... I see.”

“Even now, that child needs love, Your Grace. I hope you can understand how much you mean to her.” Fontaine bowed his head slightly in request. “Please take care of her, as you always have. I’m sure your heart remembers what your mind does not.”

“Of course, Fontaine,” Ailn said. He was clearly hiding some discomfort. “I’ll take care of her.”

“Thank you, Your Grace. I probably needn’t have asked,” Fontaine smiled warmly. “You have never failed to be a wonderful brother to her. And I’m grateful for that from the bottom of my heart.”

Ailn gave a polite smile and nod. He motioned with his head towards the door, and Kylian understood it was time, for Ailn’s sake, to take their leave.