I hid in my room.
I didn’t know where else to go or where to be. I was officially free, but functionally paralyzed. This small space to call my own was barely that. At any moment I could be kicked out and I had just slighted the Sovereign’s son. I wanted to kick myself, crawl into bed, go back in time, where I would just shut up and eat the pie.
As I wallowed, I kept looking at the clock. There was an entire day until my meeting with the sovereign, but I felt panicked that somehow I’d miss the upcoming appointment. I sat on my bed, then the chair at my desk, then stood at the window, and then leaned against the door frame. I didn’t trust myself to lay down. My body was not fully recovered and the idea of lounging was tempting fate and begging me to be late.
A couple hours of nervous pacing were interrupted by a knock on the door. Expecting no one, I anxiously feared the worst. My restrained outburst was still an outburst. Had I seethed myself into failing out of my political protections?
I mustered up my scattered courage to face whomever was at the door.
The woman was pale with long black hair swept over to one side. On the other a pointed ear stood out. I could only mentally categorize her as effortless. It felt like she owned the hallway simply by standing in it. I felt like the guest compared to her as I opened the door.
She regarded me with a mixture of emotions that stirred behind a mask of a face. Her smile was devoid of emotion, but I could see them all swimming just below the surface, like hungry sharks waiting for their turn to snap. Every inch of her scream of a massive, but completely founded confidence.
The woman offered her hand to shake palm down, “Allow me to introduce myself, I am Lady Eleanor Trask.” I came in from underneath and fought to find the correct grip in her slender hands. She seemed to fight for a second before allowing the handshake.
“I see Epswitch did find Rhys quite the barbarian companion. Here I thought the rumors were exaggerated,” her voice felt like the slip of a blade while shaving.
“Did I fail or pass a test already?” I asked, feeling incredibly self-conscious as she seemed to talk through me.
“Simply measuring Epswitch’s handiwork,” She said and circled around me. I slowly turned my head to keep her in vision, “I get what he’s going for, I really do, but it seems just cruel to force you to play the part.”
I had started stunned, but her words started to piece together in my head. Eleanor, Rhys’s Eleanor, I had been nervous about meeting her before this ambush. Rhys had painted quite the picture, but even beyond all that she was a vampire, a creature that subsisted off of blood, and in line to be in charge of the collection. Her vicious lineage was nothing in comparison to her demeanor.
“Could I at least know where my handshake failed your imperial standards?” I asked, trying to speak politely, but aware of the venom creeping back in my veins. Eleanor was here for a purpose, playing her game seemed the best way to learn if I should indulge in the rage building in me.
“It wasn’t a handshake,” She said plainly and I grew red as I replayed the scene in my head, “I was offering my hand for you to kiss. It’s basic etiquette. The suppliant offers their hand to the socially superior to kiss.”
“I didn’t know I ranked so highly,” I scoffed trying to retain some dignity.
“You are partnered with the heir to the Empire. No matter their stance on your ascension or position, you hold a very powerful ear. It’s to their detriment to make a brash move against you publicly,” I replayed my memory of the celebration just last night. Those weren’t handshakes either. I suddenly felt very foolish. I had been trained on very human customs. These imperial and mythic performances felt like the opposite of what I was used to
Eleanor continued, “My ranking is quite low, I’m the heir to an immortal governor who has existed as long as the empire. There is no illusion that any favors earned would take a long time to cash in on.”
“So are you here to make sure Epswitch properly prepared your lover’s partner?”
She winced, but then a genuine and infectious smile appeared, “Brazen and suspicious.” Her fangs made the gleeful look predatory, “I will answer your question, though if we could not yell about any less than public entanglements down the halls, I would appreciate it.”
I was torn between feeling guilty and vindicated. I took a deep breath, “I can do that.”
She nodded as if that was the expected response, but she was still grateful, “I’m here because of Rhys,” she paused to give me just enough time to think of a million scenarios, “He has been a wreck all morning since your fight at breakfast.”
“And you would like me to apologize?” my eyes narrowed.
“No, no, no,” she almost chuckled, “No, he’s a big boy and can grovel for your forgiveness at his leisure. Plus, I am sure any frustration you have is valid given the situation.”
I felt incredibly seen and then instantly paranoid. Her response seemed excellent at touching at the heart of my feelings, “Then, forgive my ignorance, I am still at a loss for why you’re here.”
“Between his moping, he explained you have a very important dinner and a lack of quality outfits. While he has an eye for that, I didn’t think it was this dire,” she stated as she gestured to my terribly ill-fitting clothes, “I would like to drag you around town and rectify the situation. Before you ask about my nefarious schemes behind the proposal, Rhys would join us and you’d be excellent cover as my new best friend so I may spend time with him in public.”
“And the fact we’re in the middle of a fight doesn’t bother you?”
She looked as if she pondered for a moment, “It really doesn’t. You two have to work together. I assume if you can play investigator together, you can be civil for an afternoon.”
I relented and agreed to join. I expected a meet up location or a pause, but instantly Eleanor had her arm hooked into mine and was both guiding and dragging me from the castle.
Leaving the castle, I was surrounded by people the second I passed the walls. The city was bustling with people. It was a cacophonous amount of noise, smell, and sight. The sheer variety was overwhelming. The tug of Eleanor was a grounding feeling. Her pull was reassuring and firm. It whispered “I have you” with equal parts soothing and menace.
I took special note of the street names. I felt no confidence in my sense of direction. Looking to my left and right, every face near me had a focused stare. There was no question in their eyes and no glance towards me.
I tried to distract myself by trying to make conversation with Eleanor, “Why did Epswitch not tell me about the hand kissing greeting? You said he wanted a barbaric partner for Rhys, why?”
“I assume to show off the ‘culturing’ effect that Rhys will supposedly have on you. Let you appear uncivilized and then slowly over time you get to ‘improve,’” She beamed at me. Everything she had said felt honest and true, but exacting. My want to trust her words and tone make me even more paranoid.
Brick and concrete walled me in. There were manicured shrubs and tamed trees every so often, but they felt out of place despite their perfect symmetry. A couple of streets away from the castle and the crowd was starting to thin. It was still a crowd of people, but there was space between everyone. Eleanor’s march with me in tow required less pushing through people
The concrete landscape was suddenly broken up by wrought iron that divided between gray and green. On the other side was a park. Opening the gate I felt a breeze for the first time not blocked by walls or people. One deep inhale and I felt better than I had a minute ago.
Rhys was leaning against a light post. He waved as he saw us. It was a casual gesture. I felt like I was seeing a completely different side of him. He wasn’t smiling, but looked happier than I had left him this morning.
“My darling,” he said to Eleanor before turning to me, “Victoria.”
Before I could respond, Eleanor spoke up “Don’t ‘my darling’ me, I know he was raised better than this and you called her your friend?”
Rhys blanched at the assault of Eleanor’s hushed yell, “I am her friend!” He responded indignantly, but looked to me as if looking for confirmation.
“Don’t look at her, she can’t help you,” Eleanor pressed, “You never taught her about proper imperial greetings. Months hanging out and you couldn’t give her that small bit of heads up?”
Rhys’s face relaxed. The vagueness of her first accusation had apparently caused him to worry the worst. Now he looked prepared, “I didn’t know she was destined for Epswitch’s schemes. We spent most of that time being yelled at for making beds poorly and learning that ugly military walk you hate so much.”
Eleanor gave a dismissive sound, “Now you have me questioning how much you let me get away with if you let all this pass without comment.”
“Oh so much, but just cause you’re pretty,” Rhys flirted back with her. It was sickly sweet, but it even made me smile.
Eleanor tugged me along and started walking us out of the park. She returned her attention to me, “As I said, it’s a cruel position you’re in. Luckily, being dumb to imperial customs is part of your narrative. Raised in the rough wilds of the werewolf lands, a brute that slays monsters barely tamed by our glorious military.”
“Is that the rumor on me?”
“With some of my personal flourishes,” she responded as she pushed some hair out of her eyes.
I looked back at Rhys following us. He shrugged and chuckled at the uncomfortable look on my face as Elanor tugged me through a crowd of people. The din of the city was instantly softened as I was dragged into a store. Fabrics of all shapes and sizes on the wall muffled the outside world.
I was paralyzed by the different options. I felt Eleanor’s hip bump into mine, “Did the note give a dress code?”
“Official-casual?” I said, instantly missing the simplicity of my uniform.
Eleanor released me and rolled her eyes, “Your mother is still pulling that ‘just a casual meal’ crap?”
“Nothing more off-putting than asking people to be comfortable,” Rhys chuckled back. I noticed sometime between the park and the store he’d put the hood up on his cloak. He had it half draped his shoulder before, but he was securely tucked away in it now.
“Standardized social convention saves a lot of time and stress,” Eleanor hissed as she started attacking stacks of clothes.
“I am sure everyone would describe your pre-gala dressing as blithe and jaunty,” Rhys sarcastically needled her as he started his own apparel adventure.
“Big talk from the prince that could get away with a bathrobe at the state dinner and everyone would just smile and applaud your bravery for breaking social norms.”
“Wait,” Rhys stopped looking for clothes for a moment, “Do you think I could get away with that?”
“Ass,” Eleanor smiled as she dragged out various pieces.
“A quality of mine you’ve commented on before,” Rhys winked as he returned to me.
I spent their entire exchange just poking at various clothes feeling more lost and confused. Now Eleanor was loading me with a veritable rainbow of textiles.
“Nothing to offer?” I asked, looking at Rhys as he lounged on a bench.
He leaned back and tucked his hands into his pockets, “Nah, I want to judge Eleanor’s choices first.”
With a throaty “hmph” Eleanor pushed me towards a changing room. Closing the door, I threw the pile of clothes onto a nearby table and picked up the top two items. They were exceedingly… yellow. The shoulders had a puff to them that extended to the elbow. The matching pants had pinstripes. Looking around there was no mirror in the room. I knew I passed one on the way in. Guess the store was designed to share in the experience rather than save any chance at self-respect.
I stepped out to the muffled giggle from Rhys. Eleanor shot him a dirty look, “It’s more on the formal side, but it’s the color and style of the season.”
“It’s hideous,” Rhys added. I looked at the mirror and had to agree. I felt like a sunflower that had experienced a couple good whacks.
“Let’s see you do better, oh master of fashion,” Eleanor replied.
“Oh, but I want to see what other terrible, yet popular options you have for Victoria.”
“No no, it’s easy to criticize, let’s see you create.”
I felt the need to speak up, especially knowing what was still sitting in the changing room, “Let’s see what you can come up with, Rhys.”
He ran off to very specific locations and pulled together an outfit. I took the bundle and went to the changing room. The black pants still had pinstripes on them, but they didn’t look half as offensive with the white button up shirt. The suspenders were odd to me, but I simply shrugged and put them on.
I took a step out and Rhys was right outside the door, “Wait, before you look in the mirror,” he said, handing me a red neckerchief. I tied it quickly and took a look. It felt a lot more natural.
“Other than the neckerchief, which is way out of fashion in the court, that’s an entirely basic outfit,” Eleanor moaned.
“You said it’s my job to look like an outsider. Maybe we save the latest noble fashions for later,” I offered.
“Fine,” she relented, “I’ll just be happy that your clothes fit.”
I felt the same way. With Rhys’s help and Eleanor’s commentary I picked up a couple more outfits. A couple times I watched Rhys move extra close as he passed by Eleanor or “accidently” bumping or brushing against her when he was close. Each time she would shoot him a little look and scoot away.
I made no comment as I purchased the items. As I took the bags, Eleanor grabbed them from me, and passed them to Rhys, “If you want to be a troublemaker, at least you can be useful as well.”
Rhys gave a little pout, but dutifully took the bags, “I think I’m plenty useful. I saved Victoria from the watermelon monstrosity I saw you had your eye on.”
“Fuchsia and chartreuse have a history of use in political and military power. It gives exactly the right message!”
Eleanor directed us to a little cafe. Snagging the last open table we were surrounded by a mixture of people and mythics. I was surprised, I had mostly seen people in the city, but the restaurant had an almost even split.
Scales, fur, claws, and fangs were on every side of us and I felt a touch of nervousness. The implication was obvious. This was a very high end location. These were powerful and connected people and creatures around me.
Eleanor was unfazed, but I saw Rhys sitting up a bit straighter. His hood was now removed. He turned to look at me as I was analyzing his sitting posture, “So cloaks and blades tomorrow, partner.”
While some resentment lingered in me, his fashion save along with Eleanor’s comments had put me a little more at ease. I nodded to him. With our work officially beginning tomorrow, I was excited and nervous, “I’ve seen you fight. I’m worried about being anywhere around you when you add 20 inches of steel into the mix.”
Eleanor rolled her eyes, "I will never understand contests of strength when a child with a pointed anything and a bad attitude can take a life."
I gave a soft chuckle more at my memories than her comment, “It’s definitely true that random chance plays a large chance in a fight, but that doesn't mean you can’t load the dice.”
Rhys swirled the water in his glass, “"Everyone studies the blade with such intensity, but they ignore the millions of shallow graves filled with empty bellies. More men and women have been struck down by poor camp logistics than by any weapon.”
“You can just say you are terrible with a sword,” I said with a smile.
There was a smile returned, “Let me have my pseudo-intellectualism, it’s a good cushion for my bruised ego.”
I turned to Eleanor, “On the topic of actual intellectualism. I ran into Dr. Banks at the party. You work with him?”
“Nothing so glorious, I’m his assistant. Sometimes I feel more like a secretary keeping control of his public schedule enough that he doesn’t piss off anyone more than he already does.”
“What got you interested in the magic of the inhumanities?” I asked and instantly saw Rhys on the edge of his seat. I felt like I had just stepped into a trap.
“So much of our lives are shrugged away with the word 'magic.' There’s a logic and reason behind this and I want to unlock it. I know it’s uncommon for someone of my birth to follow into the sciences, but it is the great mystery. Forget the prestige of solving the mythic human issue, but it’s the solution to the Empire."
“There’s my little firebrand,” Rhys said with an accentuated swoon.
“Don’t tell me it’s true. Do you have a politically unpopular opinion?” I asked, trying for mock surprise which found itself mixed with actual surprise. Eleanor had been by the book for every maneuver. To hear her speak openly against an Imperial issue felt out of character already.
“I’m new guard, if I didn’t hold a controversial opinion I’d be the oddity,” she replied tamely preparing a small bite of food that had just arrived, “While the Sovereign has done a lovely job holding together predator and prey, the system inherently has a power imbalance that can’t be tenable in the long term.”
“Tell us how you really feel,” Rhys mocked.
“No, seriously, tell me how you really feel,” I shot Rhys a look. I am sure he had heard this speech before, but I was entranced.
“The question of the social ramifications of consuming other people in society has never been answered. It’s been passed off as a ‘local issue’ with every territory giving a different answer. The problem is this is a national issue. Humans will always be second class citizens when there is no universal rule for their protection. Did you know there’s no law on the books to protect even noble born from local decisions? Rhys could wander into the wrong town and be selected as that season’s blood tithe.”
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
I looked over at Rhys and he shrugged.
“And your solution?” I pressed.
“There is no legislative solution, at least not one that keeps any part of the system intact. The forces are literal opposites in their demands. The only chance is a technological one. We will have to discover and invent our way out of the society we created.”
“And your feelings?” I asked Rhys. His face took on an instant look of distaste.
“Here I thought we’d have a nice lunch, not demand a fundamental revision of everything around us.”
“So you approve of the way things are,” Eleanor goaded. Rhys’s smile mirrored as a snarl.
“I publicly support all of the Sovereign’s positions on the subject,” he stated intentionally unconvincingly.
“And if Eleanor’s technological revolution comes to pass?” I continued.
“Then I will celebrate wholeheartedly,” his words were sincere, “but I try not to think of the dream I wish for, but the reality of the situation. There could be a breakthrough tomorrow, but just as easily 100 years from now.”
“There’s my little enforcer of the status quo,” imitated Eleanor.
Rhys just made a face and took another bite of his quickly cooling chicken. Eleanor reached out and touched his hand for just a moment. I saw Rhys’s bristling suddenly calm by a noticeable degree. Eleanor seemed to know she touched a nerve, but also seemed to know exactly what would offset his mood.
Soon enough Rhys was back to leading the discussion. He pontificated loudly on standardized education plans and the place for teacher individuality. I playfully sparred with him on where the line should be as we finished up our meal. The verbal confrontation being a nice proxy battleground for feelings I hadn’t fully worked through.
We left rowdy and merry. Even while Rhys was weighed down with my bags, he still tried to gesticulate wildly as he suggested my education plan would be better set in a poorly tended field if I wanted to be so free range. We all laughed as we continued following Eleanor’s lead.
Suddenly she stopped and rushed ahead of us. I gave a look to Rhys as he shrugged at me. She offered her hand to a horned something who kissed it softly.
“Minister Veltilate, your speech last week on increasing crop yields through seed coating was sensational. I know you rallied for human farmers for the process, but if I could steal you in the Witchhold tomorrow I think we can combine your ideas with Dr. Banks’s research,” her enthusiasm was aggressive and I saw the creature recoil with a polite smile, but it agreed. Its smile broke when she pulled out a small notebook and made a special note on the time. His eyes also fell behind Eleanor on the two of us and it was obvious we had just been unwittingly made into hostile witnesses. Still frowning aside, it thanked Eleanor and promised to see her tomorrow.
Eleanor returned to us with a skip in her step. Rhys poked at the interaction, “Completely chance meeting?”
“You brutes aren’t the only ones to load dice. We just left the minister’s favorite lunch location,” She responded with a prim little skip.
“Did you just leverage Rhys to make sure he holds to your appointment?” I was curious how he felt about being used.
“Being escorted by two newly minted and highly public Eternal Affairs agents has its perks. Plus I’ll never apologize for using every asset at my disposal.”
“It’s true, she won’t,” Rhys said with a grin. He reached out to grab her hand. Eleanor pulled back and nervously glanced at the back of the retreating minister.
“Can we head into this store quickly?” Eleanor asked suddenly.
Inside were dishes, saucers, and cutlery of a truly astounding variety. I did a full spin as I looked at the different designs that climbed up the walls. Eleanor marched through towards the back. I followed with Rhys shortly behind. Painting grade depictions of tranquil landscapes and raging storms covered various saucers.
“Victoria, if you’d be so kind as to let me know if anyone comes back here,” Eleanor spoke without inflection. I just nodded a little confused. She reached past me and grabbed Rhys by the shoulder before pushing him up against the wall and kissing him deeply. I awkwardly turned around to play guard duty.
I could hear her behind me, “Lover, I need you to behave. We’re only out together since Victoria was kind enough to act as an excuse. That falls apart with you pawing at me constantly. We will have time to be affectionate, but we literally just bumped into a minister. You know how it’ll look to the court.”
“I know,” I heard Rhys’s voice softly.
I saw the shopkeep start making his way back. I made a beeline to cut him off. “Can I help you all find anything?” She asked like a toy wound up by our presence.
I tried to remember the first things I saw when I walked in at the front of the store, but quickly gave up, “Can you tell me about the pieces in the front?” I asked vaguely and I hoped with convincing interest.
She clasped her hands together, “Oh! The dinner plates with depictions of heroic battles? It’s a new local artist that I spotted. You have an excellent eye!”
“Thank you,” I replied sheepishly and followed her. I hoped the commotion warned my compatriots, but I was prepared to hear the entire history of each porcelain object in this building if it was required.
The shopkeeper rolled up her sleeves as she started to talk at length about the significance of color choice. I nodded along and agreed as needed. Pretending to be entranced with her descriptions. I did have to credit her though, her enthusiasm almost made me interested in why crimson edging was the obvious choice for a dessert dish compared to a soup bowl.
“I think we’ll call it there today. I have a long trip to pack for and you have to get ready for your exciting night,” Eleanor’s voice came from behind me. I thanked the shopkeep and we all exited the store. Rhys kept a very firm smile and walked behind us on the street.
We all walked in silence. Eleanor kept a brisk pace as we all made our way back to the castle. Passing through the gate together, I took my leave and thanked both of them. I went my separate way and caught Eleanor pulling Rhys close as I turned the corner.
I had one few more stops I wanted to make. They were quick, but meant the world to me. I hunted down Mason and Mr. Thill’s lodgings and thanked them for coming out. Without the weight of life ending revolutions I felt more comfortable with my promises to see them in the future.
I was all smiles as I returned to my room. I had some time to burn before my dinner and it was the perfect excuse to rest. Poor sleep and overwhelming emotions pushed me towards the bed.
I was barely out of my clothes before I was facedown in the bed. I tugged an unmade cover and vaguely threw it over me. I grabbed a corner and pressed my face against it feeling the soft cloth before drifting off.
I awoke well rested and panicked. I had no idea the time and I had the leader of the imperial world on my dance card. Checking the time, my heart began to slow. I had more than enough time to bathe, change, and still have plenty left over to worry.
I checked myself out in the mirror. I had no idea how I compared to the “official-casual” requirements, but there was no turning back now. I took a deep breath and opened the door. There was a uniformed guard, pike firmly held upright, standing by my door. I instantly stopped.
“Are you ready for dinner, miss?” the guard asked with a nod.
“Yes…” I cautiously offered. The soldier bowed and began guiding me down numerous passage ways. We were nowhere near my last meeting with the Sovereign and I wondered where I was being led to.
The soldier seemed completely at ease walking in silence and offered no comment on anything we passed. We passed numerous paintings, draperies, and pedestalled artifacts, but he didn’t even glance at them on our journey.
Finally we arrived at a large set of double doors. He opened the door and announced, “Agent Victoria Vidal.”
I walked into a decently sized room with a large circular table. There were two places set up. The Sovereign was behind one and stood when I walked in. I approached and offered up my hand as I saw Eleanor do.
The Sovereign raised her eyebrows as she took my hand. I looked over this woman who ultimately commanded me. Her slacks were loosely secured and flowed almost like a dress. A deep red short sleeved blouse had gold buttons going up it, “I see Epswitch has been giving you some classes on manners.”
“Lady Eleanor, Sovereign,” The words felt casual in my mouth, but entirely uncomfortable.
She finished kissing my hand and I saw a frown pull her face down. I worried that I had made a mistake already, “Pulled you into her web as well?”
“Sovereign?” I asked, perplexed and worried.
She raised her hand, “Please, when we’re alone, call me Jacqueline. The titles and such are a tad stifling,” she gestured to the other seat, “I have nothing against Eleanor. She is clever, forward thinking, and I know her feelings are genuine.”
The sudden frank discussion was off putting. I had mentally prepared myself for many ways I thought the night could go. This was not one of them, “She is kind.” I sort of shrugged the answer.
“Oh she’s vicious. It’s one of my favorite things about her,” the Sovereign sipped a glass of wine with a smile, “Do you know why I invited you here tonight?”
“I try not to assume,” I dodged, refusing to go into the details that it was all my anxiety had been thinking about since this morning.
“A wonderful non-answer, my young duchess,” she goaded, breaking her title rule as soon as she gave it, “You are going to be entrusted with the most important member of the Empire. I need to know I can trust you.”
“Was I not tested on the very subject?” I ventured. Playing along with Epswitch’s lie felt difficult even in a few words.
She waved her hand, “Oh your loyalty is not in question, but I need to know I can trust the person most likely to influence my son and make sure he isn’t led down the wrong path. He needs someone who can speak truth to power and can talk to him without the pretense of his position. That’s what I’m testing now, you must be empowered to talk freely. He will be useless if surrounded by sycophants that agree with his every plan.”
“I am sure he is wise enough to choose the correct council,” I gave another deflecting answer. Even with her open proposition I felt a sinister air. I took a deep breath and steadied my resolve as the thought entered my head, “I won’t break his confidence. I won’t play spy to your son.”
Jacqueline gave a broad smile, “Perfect, I am not asking for a spy. In fact, I am looking for the opposite. Rhys needs a confidant, an equal he can bounce ideas off of. Though I like your assumption you’d be good enough for the role. I have much better people for that job.”
With the matter settled, I felt a surge of confidence, “I’ve been able to bullshit my way into my current position. I feel pretty sure of myself.”
A mischievous look crossed my dining partner’s face, “You looked quite uncomfortable while looking at dishes. Does plateware make you more uncomfortable than I do?”
A platter was placed in front of me and I took the opportunity to thank the person who brought it. I tried hard to stop blood from rushing to my face. My boasting instantly shot down and reminding me of my small place in the world.
“As I said, I don’t need spies. I need Rhys to be prepared to take over this Empire,” Her knife loudly scraped against her plate as she cut into a piece of meat, “Epswitch thinks you’re the best person for that job. He says he’s never wrong, I say infrequently, I need to make sure this is not one of those rare occasions. Don’t let my jovial tone fool you, there is nothing I take more seriously than this conversation and my son.”
I took my own bite and we didn’t exchange words for a moment. I tried to think of the topic that would prove the specific need she had.
She did not wait for me to swallow, “I organized the massive attack against our people at Horsk.”
I felt my eyes grow wide and my blood start to pound.
“Feelings?” She gestured casually, a lone vegetable punctured on the end of her fork.
I dabbed at the corners of my mouth to buy myself some time. It was always a damn test, proof of me as a person, it was time to flip that script, “I reserve judgment until I hear your defense for the atrocity.” I resisted a curl of my upper lip.
A bit of a smirk crossed Jacqueline’s face, “Expediency. The quicker the war ended, the more lives I could save. Plus the wonderful part of attacking a hospital is you’re killing injured people. Rather than inflicting a fresh wound, you’re simply extinguishing a previous one.”
“The most heartless way to phrase it,” my words were slow and methodical. I felt in control of the burning inside me.
“And your judgment?”
I smiled back at her, “Guilty, but that’s what you want to hear. You referred to them as our people, you haven’t forgiven yourself for the attack.”
“And I never will,” She replied with a chipper voice, “The wolves had to be brought into the fold and human controlled lands thriving next to mine were a threat to my authority. Despite your father’s mismanagement, the plentiful silver of his lands smooth over many of his mistakes. Though I am guilty for the attack, my regret comes from the beginning of the war, not the end.”
I couldn’t hide my interest. The war had begun when I was too young to understand such things. My father, terse at the best of times, was silent on many aspects of it.
The Sovereign took another painfully slow bite and another sip of wine, “I believed I had enough of his court ready to turn on him. Make the end result of any war obvious before any blood had to be shed.”
“A coup over a conflict?”
“Exactly,” she munched on another long vegetable, “When he refused even with half his court in open rebellion, I was shocked. I paid for my mistake with years of violence.”
I thought of my father’s hopes for the future. His mind always stuck on tomorrow and the “right” version of it. Could I believe that he would send men to their death over an ideal that would never come to pass? I found it easy to swallow.
“Why was my father so undermining to your authority?” I followed up. The honesty I had been given felt like a gift I wasn’t ready to let go of yet.
An attendant took away our dishes without comment, “I’ll answer that question with another. Do you know why my court is filled with mythics?”
“No…” I slowly replied. It was a question I had pondered on and at one time felt so easy to say ‘because she’s evil’ but as I learned more I felt less comfortable with that answer now.
“The ageless and powerful fear change. They will kill to keep what they have. This makes them exceedingly easy to control. Give them what they had and you are free to do whatever you want. They will take cities in your name and trade it for security in the future. Since their lives revolve around blood, it is a simple collar to pull and give on as it serves me.”
I pondered this as a small piece of cake was placed in front of me. It was sweet, but with a lemon tartness. I politely picked at it.
The Sovereign seemed comfortable with the end of the discussion and tucked into her own slice. I had a final question, “What makes Eleanor so unsuitable?”
I heard a sigh, “Tragically, she’s not,” she began, “The problem is purely optics. Vampires, the first of the empire, a great title that they love to boast about, but that causes me plenty of headaches. There are constant rumors of them getting favored attention. They are quiet comments, but if Rhys were to appear to be in anything more than a fling, it would give flight to those voices. The vampires would add the heir to their boasts and make cooperation impossible between the various factions.”
Eleanor’s caution made a lot more sense to me. As I finished the last bite of cake, I felt hands on the back of my chair.
“It has been a lovely night. I do hope you enjoy your first day on the job,” the Sovereign offered, as I stood up. The chair pulled out behind me.
“Thank you,” I looked back at the attendant who had taken care of my seat before returning my attention back to my host, “My Sovereign.”
Eternal Affairs was housed in a tower known as San Bell Bel. Despite the colorful inhabitants, the offices were surprisingly dull. Rows of desks with a chair on either side held stacks of papers. Agent Eberly was fully dressed in mask and cloak as he showed us around, but numerous members were dressed in much more casual attire as they poured through documents or made notes.
I was most surprised at the number of people in uniform. Their green trim pointed them out as not agents, but they were the most numerous in the office. They scampered around moving sets of papers from one desk to another. Sometimes they’d disappear behind one door before appearing out another one.
Agent Eberly didn’t introduce them. His guided tour mostly of various locations and vague guidelines. “This is the head office, none of the desks are assigned since you won’t be spending a lot of time here. Take whatever you need to complete reports.”
I looked over the agents in the room. Some watched us cautiously, others aggressively ignored us, every interaction made it obvious we were known. Rhys walked boldly next to me. His signature grin in full force. He was much more cavalier than I was. I felt like I was the center attention to this den of hornets.
“The Sovereign has put a bounty on your cases,” Agent Eberly said almost bored, “Instant promotion for any mistake found in your work.” I felt my paranoia validated which made me feel worse.
Rhys seemed to have no such qualms, “Hard to claim privilege with a target on our backs,” I wondered if Eberly gave even the hint of a smile under his mask.
Our final stop was the armory. That is what it was called, but half the space was set up like a seamstress station. Another soldier with green trim sat carefully focused on the needle and thread in his hand. A scar was on his left cheek in a little check mark. It would be a small almost unnoticeable thing if a tattoo didn’t connect one end to the bottom of his eye and the other to his chin. The black ink made the pink flesh angrily stand out.
“Senior Sergeant Functional Picktin,” Agent Eberly offered, giving a name to a person for the first time.
“I have your outfits ready,” Picktin hissed, not looking up from his threading.
“I thought we got our choice?” I asked. My voice sounded muffled as the cloth in the room seemed to consume it. The words felt sharp and scratchy in my throat though as this was the first time I had opened my mouth since we got into the offices.
“Well, that would be the case if you two weren’t so damn special,” he countered with a sarcastic tone. The unprofessional comment felt at odds with everything I had seen thus far. He spoke with the confidence of someone untouchable, “Not that all you agents don’t think you’re amazingly special.” He said with a wink at Eberly that met an unresponsive mask.
Finishing with the cloth in his hands, he put it to the side before wandering away behind a dresser that was covered in bolts of fabric. There was the sound of a chest opening, loose clothes being tossed, and some mild cursing.
Picktin came back and tossed two cloaks and masks onto the table. The unceremonious introduction seemed to give Rhys pause as he reached for them. I began separating them out. There was a mess of black and red and I was curious what I was looking at. A flat mask of gold poked its way out and I handed it to Rhys. “Here you go golden child,” I said with a grin even wider than his a second ago.
He didn’t share my mirth, “What makes you think this one is mine?”
I pulled out a mask that looked like a wolf’s face curled into a snarl, “Because I know the asshole who commissioned this.”
I heard a cough that sounded dangerously close to a stifled laugh from Eberly. I glanced at him, but saw no more movement from his covered form.
I went back to untangling the two cloaks, one was black on the outside with a red inner coating, while the other was reversed. If not for the golden clasp on the front of each of them, they would’ve been completely interchangeable. Picktin informed that the black one was Rhys’s and the red one was mine.
Trying it on, it was surprisingly uncumbersome. The cloth, while appearing heavy, was light and responsive to my movements. Even the mask was unproblematic beyond its cruel visage. Rhys looked imposing with his hood half covering the featureless gold mask. His cheerful countenance was erased by this new agent.
Picktin rounded each of us one time before claiming unparalleled success. He didn’t even ask for our input before shooing us over towards rows of swords.
“Going to choose our weapon as well?” Rhys asked dryly. He had already removed his mask and had it under his arm.
“Haven’t held a weapon in years and have no plans to break that streak,” Picktin said with a shrug before returning to his sewing.
A slew of steel adorned the wall. I had a passing familiarity with all of them, but the academy had stressed that any good noble should use a sword. I picked up a couple and tested their feel. Despite some cosmetic differences, they roughly felt and weighed the same. I grabbed one and Rhys followed suit with a matching one.
“You seemed to know what you’re doing,” He said and shrugged as he fastened the scabbard to his belt.
I was curious about his abilities with the blade. I had no doubt he had the same if not better classes than me, but he seemed so much more disinclined to violence in all its forms.
Agent Eberly looked unimpressed by the weapons. I had seen him armed, but never in a situation where a weapon was required. He turned to us, “You will go through some basic investigative training. We won’t go in depth since we value individual initiative but you will spend your mornings learning basic policy and procedures by reviewing selected cases highlighting exceptional cases or critiquing failures. Soon I will release you to spend your afternoons and evenings reviewing grievances deciding which you take as your first case.”
After a couple days being dragged through old casework, Agent Eberly brought us to the grievance room. Each wall held a massive map of the Empire with different colored pins in them. Underneath each of them were folders bulging with paperwork.
“This is where you’ll select your cases,” Eberly stated, “once you agree, simply fill out your intent paperwork and begin in whatever way you feel is best to investigate.”
“No standard procedure for selection?” Rhys asked, his smile uneasy. Eberly just looked at him. “Of course not,” Rhys mumbled more to himself.
Agent Eberly took his leave and we were alone in a room swarming with problems, “Shall we begin?” I offered.
“Sure,” Rhys sighed back.
It was slow going, while there was no guidance, the grievance writers all seem to have chosen verbose as their default style. One case was a business that had built its fence beyond its property line, the writer elevating it to our desk when his three other complaints to the city had gone unheeded, he claimed it was malfeasance of the highest level. I returned it to the folder and suspected I wasn’t the first.
The next case was a string of murders with very little information in the folder. It held promise and I placed it to the side. I looked over at Rhys, he had four folders around him and was taking notes on a small pad of paper.
He returned all four and pulled out another four. I turned back to my case options. Missing sheep, missing case evidence, and missing military band budget stared back at me. I wondered if Rhys would be taking notes if he had folders similar to mine.
It became the routine start of our day. We’d march into the office, spend hours sifting through open grievances, join in for group weapons training, and march back. A couple weeks in I was starting to dream of drowning in floods of paper.
Everything seemed either exceedingly important or mind numbingly banal. I had no idea how we would decide on our first case. Rhys seemed even more frantic, quickly filling up notepads with a slew of documentation. No matter what though, the cases that did draw our attention failed to set themselves apart from the other equally valid requests.
I was beginning to lose hope when I stumbled upon a massive folder about blood tithe overtaxation.
It was stuffed, not just with the grievance, but with numerous documentation from other Agents' reports. The case was listed as solved, but had numerous follow up investigations due to its delicate nature.
I ignored the sound of Rhys on the other side of the room tearing through multiple cases loudly scratching out what sounded to be a novel. I dug deeper into the case. There were notes and reports and interviews. Something stood out to me.
I poked Rhys, “Juicy tax case.”
He looked surprisingly interested at my introduction of it, but turned into a frown as he noticed the location, “Dunspice? I’m glad Eleanor made an impression on you, but using our first case to go visit her sounds like a bad idea.”
“Unsurprisingly I don’t keep track of where she is. No, something is off about the case.”
“Impossible, it’s been reinvestigated like five times,” He said dismissively as he leafed through the paperwork, “All the data seems to be in order. There is a blood tithe max, but criminal convictions that end in the death penalty are exempt. Every drop of blood has been recorded and double checked.”
“So, you’re comfortable with the largest city in the vampiric lands having a capital crime rate ten times greater than anywhere else?”
Rhys was about to respond, his mouth opened and closed and his frown grew deeper, “Where’s the intent paperwork?”