I sat in a daze. My dress uniform clung to my body drenched in sweat. Patches of fabric marrying themselves to my slick skin. Around me, the smell of sandalwood and jasmine mocked me. I had been in this office before, but every single tome, scroll, and piece of paper had been moved since my last visit. The organized mess seemed even more insidious with evidence it could move around. It felt like a constricting beast, angling itself around me.

The only pieces that hadn’t moved were the desk and the Minister Epswitch behind it. He hadn’t looked up since I entered the room. His right hand scrawled on some parchment while his left absentmindedly clawed at a plate of what appeared to be raw meat.

It had been the longest walk of my life and it occurred in a single blink. I had a vague memory of Lyle trying to celebrate with me in the hall, but had quickly found an excuse to leave once he saw the haunted look on my face.

Now I sat here, at the Sovereign’s command, across from the man who helped plan my death. A death I had only avoided because of a fragrance he seemed to bathe in. I looked again at the figure actively ignoring me. He did not look lost in his work at all, in fact he looked distracted by it, like he was waiting for something.

Was he waiting to hear when I decided to back out of his plan and pass the test? What would I even say, “Hey if you chose to put on a little less perfume when you saw the boss, I’d have stabbed the sovereign with your faulty knife?”

I stopped shaking, the click had occurred. I saw Epswitch’s quill cease tapping as I knew he knew what I was about to say.

“Thank you for sabotaging the test.”

The minister began rolling up the parchment he had been barely touching a second ago. His marionette smile was fully tugged across his face, “And here I was worried you’d be dumb enough to think you figured it out on your own.”

“Why do it? I didn’t think that you had any special fondness for me,” as the final bits of adrenaline drained from my body so did any semblance of heat. I found myself shivering in front of my manipulative protector.

“Because you fit a very select set of criteria. In fact you are offensively perfect so much that you have pissed off exactly the right people in court already,” the minister’s words clicked off his tongue, sharp with intent, but he sounded so pleased to say them outloud, “The Sovereign has a son and heir in need of a partner in Eternal Affairs. It’s a complex equation. A long time agent couldn’t be used since he would sap any victory. Any of the heir’s successes would be chalked up to his ‘senior’ partner. A commoner couldn’t be used since every praise he gave the heir would seem sycophantic while every criticism would be magnified a hundred fold. Ironically, any noble house mythic couldn’t be used because it’d be seen as showing favor to that race. I need an unlanded highborne with no ties to any faction and with no reason anyone in court would suspect they would give unwarranted credit to the prince. Bonus points if they could be a rival with a history of conflict with the Empire to make their approval so much sweeter and their judgment that much duller.”

I hated how smug Epswitch looked. For the first time he leaned back in his chair. His grin was unmoving as he watched his audience's reaction. I grimaced as the urge to pop his bubble overwhelmed my self-preservation, “Perfect, except for the fact the only reason I didn’t stab your boss was due to you cheating the test.”

“It was a stupid test.”

The plainness floored me, “Then why have me play through that song and dance then?!”

“The Sovereign didn’t trust you when I showed her your file. She demanded proof of your loyalty with that little test.”

“And now you have proof that given the chance, I’d kill her. Up until a couple hours ago I was an assassin. You think a pat on the head and an attaboy has changed everything that walked into those royal quarters?” I was snarling as I argued against myself.

“Oh, I know exactly who walked into that room and who walked out. The same stubborn woman looking for purpose that has not yet noticed she’s been handed her dream. A dream that isn’t destroying the empire. You get to be the instrument of justice and an executioner against mythics.”

“I… what?”

“You got the job description didn’t you? You will investigate nobles, you will investigate mythics. You will capture and kill those that break the law and take more than they should. You decide the jobs to take and you follow the trails you want to follow. You are the protector of the subtraction in the formula. You will hold everyone accountable. The reason I don’t need proof of your loyalty is because I know you want this.”

I felt something tight in my chest unwind. His words felt too true, like something I had wished for and felt impossible until this moment. I didn’t want to feel convinced, afraid to admit he was right.

I thought again of the mob I had led to their death. What it could’ve been if I had any real resources behind me to protect people. If I got to decide this was important and it would be solved on my timetable and no one else's, “And if this is another test or lie, a manipulation to trick me where you need me.”

“No reason for deceit when the truth serves me better. But, I don’t expect your faith though. That’s why I played along with this game and gave you ammunition to use against me. You can rush off and explain my sabotage to the Sovereign. We could have no trust if you were helpless. I’ll add a further layer though. If you walk out that door and don’t return, you won’t be hunted. You have no obligation. If I am wrong and you are unwilling, you won’t be a good fit and you don’t deserve to be punished for my miscalculation.”

My defiance was completely deflated, my knee was still throbbing from being slammed into the stonework upstairs, and I felt more drained than any single moment of training, “So, that’s it. I work for the person I hated for my entire adult life. She genocided your people, how do you reconcile dedicating yourself to the architect of your race’s destruction.”

“She may have ordered it, but who do you think recommended it?” I couldn’t wrap my head around the concept, “It’s too long of a story, young agent, but you have a party to get to and you look terrible.”

Though we had been issued two dress uniforms, I hadn’t planned on setting up the decorations on my second dress uniform. I hadn’t suspected I would spend a lot of time wearing it. It was only during an inspection where Sergeant Talbot was rooting through my locker where he pulled out various pieces that until moments ago were perfectly folded as Sergeant Hughes made some disparaging remarks. Most of them were harmless comments on loose string or fold lines that were only not in compliance due to Sergeant Talbot’s rough treatment. But when the second dress uniform was yanked out bereft of any accouterments, Sergeant Hughes gave a dramatic gasp, “Trainee Vidal, I need an explanation to this scene of depravity before me.”

I had given my reporting statement before explaining, “My backup uniform, sir, my main dress is up to standards. I was informed only one being prepared was required.”

“Leaving a chance at excellence on the table, trainee,” Sergeant Hughes shook his head, but then dropped his normal bravado, “You may be slightly better trained then when you walked in here, but I promise you are just as susceptible to dropping sauce on yourself or leaning against wet paint shortly before it's needed. Take my advice, a ready backup will save your life.”

“Yes, sir,” I had agreed then, mostly to stop the conversation.

Hughes’s ghostly figure then looked around for a moment as if suddenly aware he was heard not yelling for a moment, “Now trainee, I’m really upset. I don’t know if seeing some push ups would make me feel better, but I think we should find out!”

“Yes, sir!” I had given more energy into this one, but I had felt my face grow red as I got into the ready position. I was thankful that I was facing the floor as I began. It wasn't the embarrassment of being called out, that ceased being a worry long ago, but holding back laughter at Hughes.

Now I was thankful for that exchange. I was freshly showered in my second and already prepared dress uniform. I was momentarily overwhelmed with gratitude towards Sergeant Hughes and his moment of humanity and wisdom. I had yet to have an official first day and I was in dire need of my backup not drenched in sweat.

I had yet to get any real rest, but the clean clothes did wonders for my mood. Though my knee still stung every time the fabric brushed against the vicious bruise already formed, I felt a second wind. I could take on the world or at least tonight’s party.

I arrived half an hour early. I had given myself plenty of time in case I got lost in the castle, but the main hall was easy to find. The guards at the door gave me an odd look, but opened the door to the great hall for me.

There were some people already milling about, but upon closer inspection they were making final adjustments to many of the arrangements. As I looked around the garnished hall, I couldn’t imagine what more could be added though. Massive banners displayed symbols of the Empire. They were grand black and red monstrosities with the imperial sigil on one side and the Eternal Affairs mark on the other. Their gold leaf blazed in the light of the chandelier that bathed the room in a gemmed light.

I grabbed a glass of something bubbly and effervescent and huddled near a wall. I didn’t take a sip, but hoped somehow simply holding the beverage implied I was successfully taking part in the party that would be upcoming.

Luck was on my side or possibly people were waiting to see who would be first to go in as a storm of people and creatures followed shortly after me. I recognized none of them and their gaudy outfits and uniforms made me feel awkward in my dress uniform. Vampires flashed fangy smiles at satyrs who’s hooves gave a single clop as they shook hands with valkyries, their wings tucked close against their body, but still managing to take up an absurd amount of space. I quickly found myself lost in a dizzying array of colors and figures.

People kept coming up to me, offering me a brief handshake, and congratulating me politely, before scampering away before I could finish stuttering a “thank you.” I tried to appear busy by looking at a portrait of the Sovereign and a minotaur slaying a dragon. The gold frame was massive around the landscape. The oil of the painting was thick and the texture added to the ferocity of the blue scaled beast between the hunters.

“It’s all a bit gauche,” A voice came from my side. I looked over and found myself staring at the chest of an almost well-dressed man. His suit was excellently tailored, but looked poorly stored. It did its best to drape itself across his cavernous chest and portly belly before trying in vain to follow across his two gaunt arms. His hair looked like months ago it had been made short and trim, but now grew wildly, a black mess with gray streaks, “My apologies, Doctor Gorren Banks, I like to find people who look even more awkward than me to pass the time at these things.”

“An honor, Agent Victoria Vidal,” I croaked, my throat dry despite the glass in my hand. Even through my nerves, the doctor’s introduction had brought a smile. His mess of an appearance made me feel more at ease.

“Oh, the only person worth speaking to here!” Gorren clapped his hands together, “If I came here by choice, getting to meet you would be the only reason.”

I was torn between horror and hope. “Are you here by some decree or command?” I asked quizzically as I flattened out a crease in my uniform. Gorren’s dishevelment up close now made me paranoid of my own look.

Gorren took a quick sip from his glass, “Worse,” he moaned, “Politics. A game I am only currently playing at the behest of my assistant. Brilliant woman, but I keep trying to explain that my research speaks better for me than I do.”

“And what have you been working on?”

The doctor’s body seemed to shudder as he took a deep breath. I assumed I had just asked the question he had been waiting to answer all night, “Where to begin, where to begin! I am a pioneer on the edge of knowledge. My studies focus on artificial intelligence. The mindless automatons that my so-called peers create are relics of the past. Of course, they can achieve menial tasks, but they are capable of so much more.” I thought of the deadly purple trim introduction received. They seemed terrifying when they were mindless creatures following commands. I tried to imagine what they would want or crave given the opportunity.

“You’re talking zombies, you’re a necrotist?” I hadn’t yet resolved my feelings on science, much less the scientists behind it.

“Zombie is such a derogatory term,” Gorren snorted, not at me, but seemingly at the concept, “Zombie implies a simple corpse brought back to life, but they’re so much more than that. They’re entirely new machines filled with new and wonderful opportunities. The fact that the building blocks are the discarded shells of other creatures shouldn’t be their defining feature.” I couldn’t decide if his clinical detachment made him a good person or bad. I suspected it made him very talented and dangerously unconcerned if he was good or bad.

“Ah, good Doctor, I see you’re giving the golem speech. Should I return in an hour or have you had enough to drink to make it two?” Rhys’s voice pierced through the din as he approached us. His uniform matched mine completed short of one decoration.

Gorren swung his glass wide and would’ve doused a flinching horned creature nearby if there was anything left in it, “Rhys, my boy, how can I when you’ve spoiled the answer. These things have a natural progression, an ebb and flow of mystery. Science is as much about the journey as the answer.”

“Then allow me to give you my sincerest apologies along with a refill,” Rhys dexterously traded his full glass for Gorren’s, “I can tell you haven’t snuck any of your golems in with the waitstaff. They’d never let the tragedy of an empty glass occur.”

“Quite correct,” Gorren affirmed in between long sips, “All of tonight’s services are as mindless as those that created them. I wouldn’t waste any of my brilliant creations on this frivolousness, no offense agents.”

“None taken,” I replied automatically as my eyes were now glued to those holding trays of small treats and drinks. They wore heavy makeup, but their dead eyes gave away their nature. Even the heavy red lipstick couldn’t cover their lips sewn shut. I felt a sudden jab of self-centeredness for not noticing such a basic fact about those around me until it was pointed out.

“My son and heir! Have you had a productive day bringing glory to the Empire?” The Sovereign’s voice caused a few heads to turn as I felt my blood pressure spike. The dress the sovereign was wearing just hours ago was gone. Now she was in a black suit jacket with matching trousers and a deep red vest. Her heels were adorned with rubies and helped her match height with the doctor.

“I simply hold the mirror and take credit for the reflection,” Rhys responded as if on queue and louder than he had previously been talking.

The pieces clicked in my mind. The “station difference” between Rhys and his lover, the government work he was being prepared for, his need for a partner agent that could hold a blade while he took credit for the blood.

I began spiraling, wondering how many people were playing a game with my life. Was Rhys on the plan? Was his approach some carefully maneuvered tactic to win me over? Did he select my file in Epswitch’s office and decide that his ascension would be through me? I knew Rhys through months of training, but the man next to me now seemed like a stranger.

“Sovereign, it is lovely to see you,” Gorren said, bowing his head and taking sudden exceptional care of his drink.

“And you, Doctor Banks, a rare pleasure to see you outside the lab. I assume your assistant’s doing?” All nearby eyes were on the Sovereign, but even I could feel the spotlight swing to the doctor. I couldn’t tell if this was an intentional pressure the Sovereign was applying or simply a byproduct of her power and presence.

“Indeed, you have my gratitude for assigning her to me,” Gorren said almost conciliatorily.

“I will accept none. Her and the funding from her family were well earned,” Gorren visibly relaxed at the compliment and then instantly paled at the mention of finances, “Plus it was my son’s keen eye that spotted the opportunity to bring everyone together to an obvious success,” She concluded with a broad smile. Rhys smiled as well, but there was a slight reddish blush he couldn’t seem to hide.

There was a silence and awkward sipping as the Sovereign looked all of us over in turn. Between the bumble of the doctor and the flush of the son, I knew I was next on the chopping block. A suspicion confirmed as a slight smirk crept onto the Sovereign’s face, “Agent Vidal, I know you and my son must be excited to hear of your upcoming assignments. An invigorating time for a new agent, getting their first partner, choosing their mask, setting out on their first mission. I’m sure you already have some ideas in that clever head of yours,” I could’ve sworn I saw the Sovereign wink. Rhys opened his mouth, but she continued over him, “If you two will excuse me though, I would love to show off my pride and joy on his day of honor.”

Both Gorren and I nodded as she grabbed Rhys by the shoulder and carted him off to a startled group of Valkyrie.

The doctor’s fingers pressed heavily against his perspiring cup, “She has supported every piece of research I’ve put forth, but I always feel like every conversation between us has an executioner’s axe above my head.”

Not the most politically savvy thing to say, but I appreciated his honesty, “You said earlier that I was the only person you actually wanted to meet at this event, why is that?”

Gorren paused for a moment as if surprised I had actually been listening to him. His tongue darted in and out, lubricating his already liquored lips, “You’re infamous, the prisoner turned imperial agent, the wolf slayer, everyone in the court has strong opinions about the entire ordeal and have been quick to vocalize them.”

Despite my crash course on the Empire, I felt very much in the dark. When he said the court, I had no idea who that even was. I also wondered how Epswitch had massaged the rumors, did he downplay them or embellish the story more. “And what side have you fallen on the matter?” I asked, trying to coax more information out.

“My interest doesn’t mean investment. Political gossip is beyond my paygrade, but considering the rumor mill made it all the way down to my laboratory. It was worth the look.”

“And how’s the view?” I asked, giving a small spin in my bulky dress uniform. The notoriety gave me a little feeling of power in this unknown situation.

“Like someone took my advice,” A spine-tinglingly familiar voice came from behind me as Sergeant Hughes floated next to us, “What did you spill on your first uniform?”

What little bravado I had gathered instantly scattered, “I wasn’t betrayed by clumsiness, just by my body. I nervous sweat through the first one.”

“Keep being honest like that and you’ll be in danger of me actually liking you, agent,” the sergeant gave a smile.

Then without another word he nodded to me and moved along. I watched him until I lost sight of him behind a wolf that was loudly growling a joke that his audience seemed to find more horrifying than humorous.

“I don’t assume that ghosts are in your department?” I said returning to the doctor who seemed lost looking back at the portrait.

He shook his head without looking back, “Gheist is the official term and no I haven’t pissed off anyone that much.”

I leaned over so I was in his line of sight, “Care to enlighten me, good doctor?”

Gorren’s eyes refocused as if he suddenly remembered I was there, “Gheists aren’t science they’re unnatural theater.”

I cocked my head, unnatural from a man who worked exclusively with dead bodies and their reanimation, “Help a luddite out, how do gheists work?”

“You need a perfectly preserved body. I mean seconds after death they need to be put on ice to try and be preserved, even then most degrade too much to be useful. They all come back talking about an amazing feeling they want to return to. Some afterlife that burns a feeling of longing into them. Their memories of life are shot oftentimes and the further they move from their corporeal forms, the faster they degrade. By the end they end up just ash and nothing of value was gained.”

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“Why use them then?”

“Because the prestige of having a ‘legend resurrected’ train your kid,” Gorren hissed. He was aware the statement crossed the line as soon as he said it. He took another drink as if he could swallow his words.

I didn’t press any further. I assumed his hushed outburst had caused enough discomfort. I looked over the crowd. Every person here was probably vitally important or personally connected to the Sovereign. The room seemed to loom around me. Death was just a plaything in a game that I knew nothing about. My ‘unlimited authority’ as an agent felt very small in the face of all these moving pieces that I knew nothing of.

My thoughts then fell onto Rhys. I wonder how much he carved the path before him or if he was simply walking through doors opened to him. Was he actively participating or being groomed for a grand future?

His face stood out above the crowd right next to the Sovereign and Sergeant Hughes. They stood on an elevated platform that had the crowd entranced. Nothing had been said yet, but every conversation took an instant back seat to their silence.

“Friends, compatriots, and awestruck plus ones,” the Sovereign began. Her voice easily carried in the large room, “Today we are celebrating the next generation of our defense. Future generals, leaders, and even the next Sovereign took their final oaths today in defense of our today and tomorrow. My son is now officially a member of this grand apparatus. He, like myself, is now your eternal servant. To carry out the combined will of those in this room. To champion against dangers from any direction. I hope you will join me in celebrating him and every new member of our forces.”

There was loud applause. I’d have described it as politely loud, enough to show support, not enough to garner specific attention.

Rhys stepped forward. He looked collected and comfortable. More than that he looked practiced. I internally balked at the thought of addressing a room of this size. Still, Rhys took a moment to look over everyone. I felt his eyes linger over me for a moment before passing on. He exuded a warmth missing from his mother or maybe that was my own bias, “I am touched by everyone joining in celebration for what you all helped create. Everyone in this room was invited for their vision of our future, a future I want to help accomplish. Today I deserve no more credit than any of the other young soldiers I trained with. I want to achieve greatness, not be assigned it. So your applause is accepted, but only so I may pass it on in equal measure to the great men and women who share my oath.”

Doctor Banks quickly downed his glass so he could join enthusiastically in another round of applause. The sound was more mixed, some clapping seemed louder, but some more subdued. I tried to identify where each member stood, but the press of bodies made it an impossibility.

Sergeant Hughes stepped up as the clapping died down, “What great and carefully prepared speeches from our Sovereign and our heir,” there was a scattered nervous laughter, “I’m a simple enlisted man so I have no grandiose feelings on the future. To be fair I thought my chapter was long finished, but I have been granted the honor of training this latest group. I take comfort knowing there’s just as many idiots now as there were when I first went through the training. I also take comfort in knowing the people I am trusting with your lives, since mine is comfortably done. In fact, this is my last moment. My contract ended with this training group. I requested that my final moments be made into the spark of the next generation.”

I was confused and I wasn’t alone in that feeling. For the first time there was a murmuring. I caught Gorren’s eyes and he looked uncomfortable. Two attendants in purple trimmed tabards came onto the stage. One pushed a cart covered in a misshapen sheet. The other he was holding a torch that gave a sickly flame. It sputtered wrong and the attendant held it uncomfortably.

The cart was pushed until it bisected the ethereal Sergeant Hughes. The imagery of the scene explained exactly what was under the sheet. My body reacted before my mind did. The hairs on my neck standing on end as chills ran down my arms.

Rhys took the torch from him and held it inside of Sergeant Hughes for a brief second. The cloth caught fire inside the apparition and Rhys returned the torch to the attendant who quickly smothered the flame in a metal tool.

Rhys saluted the sergeant and the sergeant returned it as flames consumed the body. Hughes’s form seemed to shimmer, but I couldn’t tell if it was due to the fire or some aspect of the process that was lost on me.

The attendants returned with buckets and waited solemnly. Rhys stood stock still holding the salute. There was no smile on his face. The reality of the situation caught up with me as Hughes’s ghostly form flickered. His features began to melt before flaking off and floating off his body. The tiny blue shard escaped a small distance from the body before blipping out.

I watched in horror at the immolation. Sergeant Hughes was quickly disappearing. I felt unsteady. I had no real plans to see the man again, but I was watching any chance at that happening go up in literal smoke. I was witnessing the permanent end of a life. He was choosing this and I had to wonder if it was his dedication to the cause or his urge to return to whatever came next.

No matter his reason, I felt sick to my stomach. Gorren seemed to match my discomfort. I looked around expecting a sea of faces matching our small corner. Instead I saw rapt attention and awe. Something in this display had captured the room and as Sergeant Hughes disappeared, clapping erupted.

The attendants extinguished the smoldering remains. As the applause resonated off the walls. Rhys and the Sovereign left the stage with nothing more to add. A fresh round of refreshments burst through various doors to the room. I saw many grab something and animatedly discuss what they had witnessed.

I saw a few look back at me. I couldn’t tell what reaction they looked for. What part of my dramatically retold story did they expect to see reflected in my reaction? They were gleeful watching this man be erased, was my lack of jubilation confirmation of something?

I was out of the room before I registered my feet were moving. They continued to carry me not towards where I was told my room would be, but in a random direction. The movement gave me something to focus on. One foot in front of another until I found a balcony with a small bench.

I sat down and looked over the same garden I awoke to while I waited for training. There were a few torches to illuminate it in the dark. Even these natural flames made me uncomfortable and I found my eyes looking upward. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and tried to rein in my thoughts.

“Victoria Vidal.”

I wanted to shriek at the interruption. My entire day had been crowds of people after months of being trapped in rooms filled with voices. The second I escape the party I’m chased down by… I looked back at the speaker. I didn’t recognize him. The voice tingled something in the back of my head, but the dark skinned portly face was a blank to me.

“Good evening,” I replied. I made no move to make space on the small bench for him and he took no steps closer.

“I saw you run out of the party,” it was a statement that didn’t seem to include an opinion on the matter. Its indifference at least made me recognize the voice, Agent Eberly.

“And Epswitch has you on babysitting duty for me, agent?” I asked, unable to mask frustration.

“No, I was on rumor mill duty tonight. Had to spread your tale through the ranks of the aristocrats.”

Annoyance took a back seat to curiosity, “Do I get to hear my own story or am I to guess my part in this play you two are having me perform.”

“From one player to another, the tale is that you’re an ambitious noble who killed a werewolf in self-defense under mysterious circumstances. To avoid trial you enlisted in the military where you made it to the ranks of Eternal Affairs. Your end goals are unknown, but you’ve been heard speaking against the Sovereign.”

“That’s dangerously close to the truth.”

“I think Epswitch prefers the truth, when it suits him.”

I continued to look up at the standing agent, “And what do you prefer?”

“I long ago stopped having a preference. You’ve seen only the surface of the games within games they play. At this point, I have chosen my champion and continue to hope he uses me on the board well.”

“And what has Epswitch done to earn this undying loyalty?”

“Mostly the right thing, which is high praise for anyone playing at this level. More than that he got my husband and I out of the Wedigo’s territory before the campaign of annihilation began. I was a garrison guard at the time. Epswitch made sure to pull back all of us before the first attack even though it could’ve given away his moves.”

“I’m a little surprised,” I commented honestly, “I would’ve expected a few extra bodies to make sure a genocide went off without issue to be exactly the kind of move he’d pull off.”

“It is,” the agent nodded, “But he saw a way to combine doing the right thing with a useful thing. He recalled twenty of us and I know for a fact eighteen of them now directly answer to him.”

“So a self-serving action?” My surprise melted away as I dismissively looked back up at the sky.

“Entirely, but it had the benefit of being the kindest move possible at the same time. Out of the leadership I’ve met, that’s the closest to ‘good’ that it’s gotten,” Eberly’s monotone made him sound disinterested even in his own world philosophy.

“Trying to convince me to play on his team?”

Eberly walked past the bench and leaned over the balcony, “No, if that was the intention he’d send someone a bit more charismatic. I think this is more of an apology. The story I’ve helped spread will not make you popular, so your choice of allies is small. It’s not a bad arrangement though. Epswitch tends to get his way and it never hurts to be on the winning side.”

“Looking for absolution for the corner you’ve pained me into?” I asked, my tired body still finding the energy for anger. A momentary blip crossed my mind of how easy it would be to push him. I shook my head, not letting rage have me cross a line I couldn’t uncross.

The agent smiled. His face looked unpracticed at it, “I don’t have any regrets, just sympathy. I believe since the minister asked me to spread the story, there is a reason. It doesn’t mean I don’t pity you though. If I had my choice, you wouldn’t even be here.”

“What does that mean?”

“Epswitch tasked me with finding the heir’s agency partner. You made the list, but barely. I gave him five names, you were number four.”

“So don’t worry about my life being out of my control because you think I was a bad choice?” I couldn’t tell if his words, his tone, or the lack of sleep was driving my fury.

He didn’t seem perturbed by my outburst, “Look who you were half a year ago. You had the bloodline and credentials Epswitch needed, but a spoiled debutant wasn’t what the mission called for. I’m just giving you the data. You can use and feel however you want about it.”

I wanted to give my rebuttal, but he was being empathetic in his own way. He was pulling back the curtain on a world I had been thrust into the middle of, “What got me pushed from fourth to first?”

“The blood on your hands.”

The room I had been given was sparse compared to my pre-military suite, but four walls, a door that locked, and a bathroom to myself was a luxury. The Eternal Affairs offices were located in Cardinal so I was told to expect to be stationed here even though my work would take me wherever the cases did.

After a quick clean up where I could barely keep my eyes open, I was sitting on the bed holding my head in my hands. The crashing overwhelmingness of my longest day played out of order in my head. Bouncing between the celebration gala to presenting in formation, my thoughts couldn’t keep still.

I lay down exhausted, but my mind refused to slow down. Every few minutes I shifted position as if laying on my front or how my ear pushed against the pillow was the reason I couldn’t find sleep.

Before I knew it, it was morning. I wasn’t well rested, but I was at least functional. I had no obligations for the day, but my body took the schedule I had been forced to keep as gospel. With the creeping of dawn’s first rays, I was out of bed.

To my surprise there was a familiar trunk that I had last seen a lifetime ago in the Cloven Kettle. I hadn’t noticed it in the late of last night. I opened it up to an even bigger surprise. My father’s sword and the fateful silver stake rested on top of all my clothes. It had been mercifully cleaned by the looks of it.

I grabbed the first shirt and pants I could get my hands on and threw them on. They fit poorly. They were so loose I removed them and took a long look at myself in the mirror. Months of a forced physical routine and diet agreed with my body much more than late nights of drinking.

I dug through the chest and pulled out the most manageable clothes I could find. Even with a belt pulled taunt, I felt like I was swimming in fabrics. I shrugged as it would work for now. Maybe some better fitting clothes would be my day off objective.

There was a cafeteria for people working in the castle. I lazily made my way towards it, both exhilarated and uncomfortable with my undirected freedom. The lack of yelling and specifically timed events felt unreal despite it being the norm for all but a couple months of my life. I kept looking for other people around me heading in the same direction as reassurance I was doing the right thing.

Training had strengthened my body, but I felt less secure in myself. After months of small infractions earning instant and harsh rebuke, I expected a blue trimmed soldier to yell at me at any moment. I felt angry at myself that I wasn’t even sure about my walking. I kept finding my pace falling back into a heel toe step that was never mine before.

I focused on landing on the balls of my feet. A small rebellion to retake a piece of myself. It was also a much needed distraction from my self-doubt. Arriving at the cafeteria, I stood right in front of the door watching what people were doing. A few waited in front of a griddle where someone in a green trimmed uniform cooked up various eggs. The rest of the stations were unmanned, but had various meats, breads, and fruits set up.

Avoiding the line for the eggs, I grabbed a plate and loaded it with sausages and breakfast confectionaries. I took a seat and started munching, instantly feeling better. A quiet table to oneself with a stack of food should be every doctor’s first recommendation.

My blood ran cold when I saw Rhys enter. He greeted a table as he passed, made small talk with the soldier preparing eggs. I didn’t know how I felt about him. I couldn’t tie together the bookish hopeless romantic I had known for months and the torch bearing heir apparent that had burned my teacher from existence.

My mind started tying together the pieces of the men I knew. The pressure from his mother, the weight he carried, and his interest in the dark cogs that ran the empire were all linked fitting both the smiling scholar and the incendiary scion.

Rhys turned with a plate of scrambled eggs and his smile fell on me. It didn’t match his narrowed eyes. He walked over purposefully though he took his time. He moved at a regular pace, but his stride was shortened. Abrupt little steps that made him take twice as long to reach me.

“May I sit here?” For a second I heard the man I laughed with while mocking instructors. The question itself painted the gulf between us. A day ago it would’ve never been asked.

“I would be shocked if anyone in the room would decline you,” I gave a petty stab. Both not giving a direct answer to the question and throwing the gauntlet down. I felt compelled to find out which parts were my friend I knew and which were the sole heir to this dark kingdom.

“Due to my winning personality, I assume,” he quipped as he sat down. He wore a pained thin line on his face though. The forced comedy response felt like a defense rather than a joke.

I took an extra large bite of a honey doughy something as an excuse to give no response other than a monotone, “hmmm.”

“I confronted Epswitch,” his comment caught me off guard. I did a mental checklist of plots and situations, “My mother’s cryptic comments, the fact you were only talking to Dr. Banks at the party, and the rumors swirling around you reeked of his hand.”

I almost choked on the lump in my mouth. The evidence he offered of my duplicity were all things I had no hand in. I coughed a little before swallowing, “And the results of your interrogation?”

I could see a dash of cockiness cross his face, “That I can continue to trust you.”

“And can I continue to trust you?” I asked pointedly. I felt incredibly unprepared to directly confront him, but my hurt moved faster than my nervousness.

His slight brashness drained away, showing the boy I saw begging to be given a book and guard duty, “Epswitch suspected you’d be apprehensive of me. He told me I should tell you that he advised me to act like I don’t trust you to put you on the defensive. That next leveling a manipulative plan would make me seem trustworthy, whereas he doesn’t care if you think he’s trustworthy.”

“And you’re going a level above that to tell me about the plan to tell me? Sounds needlessly complex.”

“I know it’ll take a while to earn your trust fully, but I have a twelve part plan.Steps one through eleven are just to be as honest as possible.”

“And step twelve?”

“Outright bribery with baked goods,” he said with a smile and slid a plate with a sugar coated muffin.

There it was, the perfect line from my best friend.

But that man was dead or maybe never existed. This was a stranger with delusions of our closeness. Jokes about pastries and an optimist outlook was an outer veneer to this center of the spider web I was tumbling down.

I could believe it was all Epswitch’s machinations without Rhys’s influence, but just because I could believe it didn’t mean it was true. I felt cautious of my hope overwhelming my earned paranoia.

Slowly, I accepted the dish, “What sets your honesty apart from the other ‘truths’ I’ve been given?” I felt the urge to investigate, to give Rhys enough rope to hang himself with.

His smile stopped. His face was a copy of what I saw when the torch was in his hands, “I have spent a life with these castle politics. I refuse to fall into their games.”

I matched his somber look. My heart echoed the sentiment, “My fear isn’t the fall, it’s where I’m being placed.”

He swallowed, nodded, and gave a small laugh, “You know the worst part is Epswitch’s advice was probably to subtly convince me to rat on his plan to rat him out.”

“Oh good,” I softly joined his chuckle, “I was worried I was the only one getting the puppetmaster treatment.”

“No no, he helped me ‘run away’ when I was five just so I would feel guilty before I made it out of the castle. My mom still reminds him that he packed a survival pack for basically a toddler. He tells her not to worry since the knife was dulled.”

“He just had a dull knife ready to give to a child?”

Rhys smiled and shrugged, “I have no idea, I didn’t even open the pack.”

“Why did you want to run away in the first place?” Rhys looked down. His hair covered my view of his face.

His shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath, “One of my instructors was a sergeant who got deployed and never came back. I didn’t understand why and blamed my mom for getting rid of him. When I was young a lot of people would come and go based on what she said, so my young brain just assumed the reason he didn’t come back was under her control as well.”

I thought of the war that raged around my youth. My father had kept very elitist company and it was rare for anyone near the frontlines to also end up in my life. It saved me from a story like Rhys’s, but it gave me such a skewed view growing up. The loss of life made me think of Sergeant Hughes.

“Thank you for being honest with me. I have something hard to ask,” I started slowly. Rhys looked up at me quizzically as I continued, “with Sergeant Hughes…”

I didn’t know what verb to add, killed, burned, erased? I let the silence hang.

“A plan and performance organized between the sergeant and Epswitch. Years ago he was dying of an illness. He traded his last months for a deep freeze and a chance to train one more group of soldiers. Mother thought it would be a glorious start to my career and the best celebration of the sergeant’s work. I saw that you left shortly after.”

“I… wasn’t comfortable with what I saw,” I said. Words failed me and I felt bad I couldn’t give him more, I couldn’t seem to give it to myself either. What did I feel? He was such a brief and intense person in my life. Did I want something more from Hughes? Why was his loss seared into my head?

Rhys gave a huff of a chuckle, “I wasn’t comfortable with doing it.” He sat contemplatively for a moment, “As soon as they gave me the torch, I kept thinking of what he said to me after our first sparring session ‘Trainee, you are my physical manifestation and right now you're embarrassing both of us.’ I really hope that wasn’t his last thought as well.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t,” and then smiled at a thought, “I bet it was what he told Deck after Deck complained about being woken up so early for a second day ‘You think this is unfair? It is! Everything in life is unfair, the least I can do is prepare you for it.’”

We laughed at my terrible impression. The tension that had crept through the conversation lowered somewhat. Right now I believed his pain over Hughes more than my own. His words and doubts felt so real that it only doubled my frustration with my inability to articulate mine.

“Do I get to hear your real story instead of the rumor going around?” Rhys asked. I wondered how in the loop Epswitch kept him.

I half expected to default to its guarded state, but once the words started I couldn’t stop them. I had been sitting on this story for so long. Getting to tell my side of the story felt invigorating. Rhys’s eyes widened both at the parts of the rumor I confirmed and those I disagreed with. I included the names of those who died where I had survived. I knew Rhys wouldn’t remember them, but I needed to say their names, confirm that they wouldn’t be forgotten, that I hadn’t forgotten them.

We continued until a green trimmed soldier approached our table. He wasn’t young, but he nervously glanced between the two of us. A small envelope was tucked in his left hand and he placed it in front of me, “From the sovereign.”

He quickly ducked away with a quick salute and “My lord,” to Rhys. I opened it up and skimmed over its contents. It was an invitation for dinner tonight. Just me and the Sovereign.

“Yet another test,” I seethed to myself.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Rhys teased. I felt a familiar pounding in my ears as my adrenaline spiked. It was so easy for him, everyone in his life moved and manipulated to be where they would serve him best. Just being around him put a target on my back. I could feel the room's eyes on our conversation.

I tried to take a deep breath, but words followed the exhale, “Not all of us share your same protection from consequences.”

I said it with a smile and the most positive tone, just as I had learned from Rhys. Anyone listening would’ve just heard jaunty banter.

But he knew, my low blow was as unsubtle as a thunderstorm. He returned my smile with the same hollow one I knew I wore. My sympathy was low, I had been in so many rooms expecting death where his greatest fear couldn’t be worse than disappointment. Every plot I had heard had about cocooning him against the world.

Before he could offer anything else I rose, quicker than I intended. The chair made a loud scraping sound against the stone and I felt everyone’s eyes boring into me.

I saluted, “My lord.”