Oh what comfortable sheets you’re sleeping in.

A sigh left me, long and drawn out. I squeezed my eyes tight, doing my best to sequester away the thoughts. It didn’t work. Like it hadn’t for most of the night. They were like water, finding ways past my barriers and crashing into me just as sleep drew close.

Odysseus and I had been found and returned to the castle. My injuries had been relatively minor and potions had been taken me further along, while Odysseus and Ellora were still being looked over by healers. Even so, my shoulder bloomed with pain if I moved it too vigorously, a sign of the fall.

Oh how lucky you are to get the best medicine in this world.

I rolled off my bed, rubbing my eyes. A bone deep fatigue had settled into me, not only affecting my body but my mind and heart. Dark emotions swirled in my stomach, directed outward and inward, batted aside by justifications and excuses, none of which worked.

My feet took me to my balcony — King Orpheus’ balcony — and I looked out.

Usually it was a reprieve, looking onto the city and being amazed by the scale and architecture, but all I could see now was how dark Lowtown. Hightown and Midtown were glittered with luminous gems, gardens and parks sprouting up every so often; but in Lowtown they had to light their way with torches, plants and snail shells.

And you’re helping to perpetuate it.

It wasn’t the first time the thought had come to me, but now there was more weight. These weren’t my people and this wasn’t my world; but they were still people and by existing here, I ensured the people in search of a better life had a hard time finding it.

Cybill had told me that it was often better to work under a noble than to set out on your own. Those had only been words, then, but after walking through Lowtown it was hard to keep my thoughts from returning there over and over.

There’s nothing I can do, I thought. I’m a prisoner. I’m just like them, a victim of circumstance.

I turned and looked around — at my quarters, at the opulence.

A gilded prison was no less a prison.

I’m sure Odysseus thinks he’s in a prison as well.

“Fuck you,” I muttered, guilt turning into irritation.

I went to my closet to pick up my armour. It had been washed free mud and was already dry, part of its magic; it was covered in scratches, scrapes and scuff, but they were already better than before. The suit had already started to heal.

Just like them, huh?

All of me yearned for a phone, for music to drown out my thoughts. I put on the suit and felt the minute difference in how I moved, as if gravity bore down little less than before.

The guard at my door was on a chair, dozing. He jerked awake and to his feet as I came out. He looked confused for a moment, like he wanted to say something but he dithered, uncertain.

“I’m heading to Ally’s training quarters if anyone asks,” I said.

Ally. You have the cushiest relationship with the nobility.

The guard started to stand. The darkness in my stomach surged up, bitter as it touched my tongue and twisted my expression.

“I’m not gonna need an escort,” I told him, all my resentment in the words. My tone reminded me so much of Odysseus it caused a shiver to run up and down my spine.

“Yes, Lord Champion,” the guard said, his voice shaky. I walked and wasn’t followed, though he rushed to his superiors.

Just like them, a low thought came sardonically.

The training room was empty and quiet which was unsettling, but I pushed past it. I went to the climbing wall, looked around for the safety equipment before starting to scale the wall. The future was uncertain, but this felt like one of those important skills I would need at some point.

I lost myself in the exertion, seeking hand and footholds, then traversing up, keeping myself from looking down when it made my stomach drop. Odysseus and I had survived a hundred storey fall, something I’d taken a lot of strength from, but that hadn’t led to me being less afraid of heights.

Up and down I went, feeling the strain, the twinge that steadily got worse in my shoulder, the sweat that sometimes touched and stung my eyes. I kept pushing, ignoring hands that ached and the soles of my feet which throbbed with each step.

At a certain point my body gave out, too tired from the day, the lack of sleep and my recent exercise. I let myself drop to the ground and laid there, taking comfort in the discomfort of the stone floor — that it was warm made me feel guilty, a sign of excess when Madame Simone had been using wood to fuel her fires — when those who were as fortunate as her were probably using less.

A prod started me awake. Ally stood over me, arms crossed and dressed in their light armour.

“Why are you sleeping on the floor?” they asked. Ally’s eyes had bags under them, hints of fatigue.

“Climbing, then I conked out. Your Highness,” I added, remembering the thought from before, about the familiarity. Part of my survival plan was making them consider me a friend, but was it possible that I was getting lost in it?

These are not your friends, I thought, but it felt weak. Enforce distance. Even if it sucks, it’s for the best. It’ll only be a week and a few days before you’re in Harrengrove and you can find some way to escape. It’ll hurt but not for too long.

My body rebelled as I pushed myself up. I took a step back, shoulders straight, not meeting their eyes.

Ally’s eyes narrowed. “You saved my brother’s life,” they said.

I shrugged. “It was the right thing to do.”

“How did you do it?”

“It’s all a blur, Your Highness,” I said. Ally’s frown deepened. I waited, prepared for questions about the gloves. Odysseus hadn’t asked, but if they knew I was keeping secrets then it would make escape harder. “I—uh…”

They shook their head. There was something in Ally’s eyes that I couldn’t read, taking me in too intently. “I understand, Champion,” they finally said. “When you are still untrained everything moves too fast. Half of training is slowing things down, balancing instinct and forethought. Take heart in having good instincts at the very least, many would have plummeted to their deaths without thinking to lift themselves from their situations, but you are good to work on them as you are.”

“Thank you for the compliment, Your Highness,” I said, relieved but still apprehensive. Odysseus had been out of it most of the time and maybe — hopefully — he hadn’t noticed me using the gloves. “Prince Odysseus. How is he?”

“Healing,” they said. “It will be a day or two before he is healed enough he can be around people, likely longer for how much Mother dotes on him.”

I bobbed my head. “And the trip?” I asked. “The training trip? Is that cancelled with everything that happened? Because I was thinking it would be the smartest move to go to Harrengrove. Owain’s going to have home ground advantage and it would be smart getting a sense of the more powerful dire beasts in his territory.”

“That will be Father’s decision, Champion,” said Ally. They sighed, running a hand through their hair then moving to rub their eyes. “As things are, I doubt he will agree to it, not without a large coterie, and even then I doubt it. Father is strong, but he has his fears just as every man. He loves his children in his own way.”

In his own way is usually something people say when they’re part of a shitty relationship, I thought.

“So what now?” I asked. “We have less time.”

Ally shrugged. “You had a plan, no doubt, when you confronted Baron Owain?” they asked. I nodded. “Then you will have to depend on said plan for your victory.”

“Guess that’s how it’s going to go,” I muttered.

The original plan, then. Finding a way to leave while we were out in Harrengrove then travelling west to Washerton, hopefully getting to Rowan. If that didn’t work, I would try to get to Susserton, talk to High Chief Ran and see how things would work with him. It wouldn’t go as easily as I was thinking, even finding Rowan would be tough, but it would mean I was out of the castle and I wouldn’t be facilitating the continued suffering of the lower class.

“Keep training, Champion,” said Ally. “It will do you good. You’re free to my servants while in my quarters. They will keep you fed and watered.”

I nodded, uncomfortable. Ally left me alone once more. It felt doubly uncomfortable.

“Rollo, come.”

The air rippled and a shape took form at the centre, becoming Rollo, eyes open but in the sitting position goats took when they were sleeping. A different sort of guilt flooded through me. It was easy to forget that Rollo was a living being and he slept and grazed. He didn’t spend all of his time waiting for me to call him, I had to be aware of his needs.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“Sorry for waking you,” I said. “Disturbing your sleep.”

No response.

He didn’t move as I got close, running my hand through his coat. I sat down and reclined against his side. He let me, settling into sleep again. Rollo’s breathing was hypnotic, easing me into a doze that let my thoughts go whichever way they wanted, though a part of me was terrified the guilt would come back.

I chose to direct them towards escape, charting out how I wanted things to play out. Harrengrove had a celestial line running through it and that meant dire beasts. I’d have to get better with my pistol — not just aim, but the ability to draw it without first having to fight through the panic; and Rollo, he more than anything would be my best asset.

There are still major holes, I thought to myself, one of them being how I would find Rowan in the first place. I didn’t know who the guy was, what he looked like or where he was in Washerton — if he even was in the country. Rowan could be in Susserton with High Chief Ran as far as I knew, or in any other country in the Commonality.

Maybe it was smarter to go to Susserton, it was further north past the Pastures. They didn’t have celestial rivers which meant the beasts there wouldn’t be dire, or there wouldn’t be as many dire beasts.

That’s if High Chief Ran is truly an ally, I thought, cutting myself off.

What if I was just putting myself in another situation like Althor? Or maybe worse? From everything I’d read, Susserton was a place that really prized physical strength. Even so, High Chief Ran was a commoner and that counted for something; he had power now, but it was possible he knew how shitty it was at the bottom.

Frustration started to churn, quickly boiling into anger.

As grateful as I was that High Chief Ran had given me Rollo, it sucked that his overtures towards allyship hadn’t been more overt. Couldn’t he have squirrelled away a way to help me? Or a way that we could talk? Was that too much to ask?

It’s not like he would have been able to tell you outright if he did, I thought. The king had been monitoring the meeting — keeping the possibilities of coded messages to a minimum; and if something had been squirrelled away on Rollo it would have been found when the gifts had been tested.

“Stupid,” I muttered, a little too loudly, disturbing Rollo from his sleep. If I had been smarter I would have been paying more attention to my conversation with the High Chief, instead what I most remembered was him mentioning Usher, and…saying that all going well we’d meet again.

That was thin, all things considered. He could have meant we could meet again because he was going to ally Susserton with Althor, giving him more access to the castle or me.

But it was a spot of hope in an increasingly dark world.

I got up, looking at the goat which had already awoken.

“Hey, Rollo,” I said. He looked at me with those eyes that didn’t impart a lot of emotion. “You’re supposed to be smart, bud. Your former master didn’t tell you to tell me something, right? Maybe talk and tell me the answer to getting out of here?”

Rollo didn’t say anything.

“Rollo,” I said, “show me your secrets.”

Nothing.

“Open sesame?”

Again, nothing.

I let out a sigh and sat back down, leaning against his side. My stomach grumbled but I didn’t want to move, didn’t want to order people around, didn’t want to eat delicacies when I’d seen people throw themselves to the ground for a few coins.

I should have given them more, I thought. Driven by guilt I’d emptied out Odysseus’ purse, giving it all to Madame Simone so she could take in more children, but I had no idea if it would work.

“Maybe you have a password,” I muttered under my breath, distracting myself. “Usher? Um…Usher Raymond?”

I looked up and Rollo looked down at me, no more alert than he usually was. His throat started to move, as if he was going to throw up and then he started to chew, looking away.

“Maybe a song of his,” I muttered, closing my eyes, taking pleasure in the pain of my rumbling stomach.

I racked my brain, trying to think of the guy’s most recent songs. Mostly I’d heard him because an uncle or aunt was listening to an old album, not because I’d gone out looking for his songs. I’d seen him as a judge on a few singing shows, but I only ever watched those for conversation rather than investment.

Narrow it down, I thought, even though it seemed very unlikely that something like this would work.

Two options were before me, though one was simpler. High Chief Ran had his own Champion — I didn’t think this was true because I hadn’t heard anything about Susserton having an intersection of celestial rivers — or he was partnered with Rowan. If I was going to follow the idea of Usher’s songs being passwords, then I had to think about when he could have come to this world.

Or I could brute force it, I thought as one of Usher’s songs fluttered through my mind. I started to sing Confessions, stopping and beginning again because I’d started too high and it felt like my throat was being strangled.

I didn’t know a lot of the lyrics, which meant I was muttering and humming a lot. Rollo didn’t react and I changed track, turning to U Got It Bad, and again not getting a reaction.

I felt people moving and I stopped singing. A while later Cicero and Ellora’s brother stepped into the training room. My heart started to beat faster, and of all things I smiled.

He’s part of the system.

My smile faltered.

“Ah, Champion,” said Cicero as he got close. He wore a bright smile though his wrinkles were more pronounced. It had been a month since I’d last seen him, but he looked older. “It has been so long since last we met.”

“Greetings, mage,” I said, smiling lightly. “Yeah. It has. You must still be busy with everything going on with the spatial mages.”

Cicero hummed, nodding. “Work never ends, it seems,” he said. “There are grave changes in the Order and they require one to be ever vigilant, above which are the new students we have taken and teachers that have to be moved around. Usually it is the Grand Mages who oversee the school and the Mage Technicians who look over the hub, but things have changed of late.” He waved his hand and smiled. “Not that that concerns you. I heard of your adventures in Lowtown and thought it might be worth it to visit you. If for nothing else than to see how well you fared. I had expected to find you under a healer’s touch, but here you stand.”

“I’m okay,” I said. “Thanks for the concern.”

“You would be doing me an honour if you regaled me with the story,” he said. I opened my mouth but my stomach grumbled, cutting me off. Cicero laughed warmly. “Over breakfast, of course. I see Princess Allycea still does not have you eat before your morning exercises?”

“Yeah. You could say that,” I said, feeling conflicted.

Excitement ran through me, the possibility that he could expand my magical knowledge, but Cicero and his order were part of the system. They had power and, even if they’d treated me well, I was still a tool to them.

But magic is going to be useful, I thought.

“I would be glad if you joined me for breakfast,” I told him. “There isn’t much of a story to tell, but I’d love to hear more about the Spatial Order. I’ll call you up in a bit, Rollo. Don’t poop on the floor, okay? I don’t want to leave work for Ally’s servants.”

“I think I might be able to manage sending him to the stables,” said Cicero. He started to hike up his robes, revealing his hands.

“That would be suspicious,” Ellora’s brother interrupted.

Cicero stopped, turning towards him with an expression of confusion. “Is it?” he asked. “Why would my kindness be seen so?”

“Who knows where you will send it,” Ellora’s brother said. “Or what you will do to it on the other end. You can continue, I doubt I could stop you without grievously harming you, but know His Majesty will hear of it.”

Cicero, smiling, shook his head. “I made the mistake of giving Sir Riaan ‘the slip’ once and he has been most perturbed ever since.”

“It was suspicious,” Riaan said, his tone lazy. “Leading to the hassle of having to speak to His Majesty’s officials.”

“Perhaps, dear knight,” he said, “but your protection is stifling.”

Protection? I thought. Doesn’t feel like protection.

“Oh, this is curious,” said Cicero, his attention moving towards the door.

I frowned, focusing on my spatial sense. A trio moved through the general thrum of servants in the hall outside. Whenever they reached people they stopped in place. It wasn’t out of the ordinary, but Cicero’s reaction had me on alert.

The air became tense as we waited, until the tension broke and there was abrupt movement. My heart started to thrum and my throat went drying; Cicero bowed ever so slightly while Riaan bent the knee. For a moment I was stuck, without a temporal ring to give me an edge.

As she came closer, though, it felt as though a weight settled on my shoulder and I fell to one knee like Riaan, head bowed.

“Good,” said Queen Eleanor. “I’ve finally found you, Champion.”

“Goo—” I started, feeling as she loomed over me.

“Stand,” she interrupted. “Look me in the eyes.”

It felt like I’d lost control of my body, but I stood nonetheless. She closed the distance and touched my face, head craning up because I was taller than her. The queen’s fingers dug into my cheeks and she made me look down, into her eyes.

Please don’t touch me, I said in my mind, but the words stuck in my throat.

The woman was thinner than me, she moved with grace but not like Jaslynn. I would be able to take her in a fight, but it felt like the same protections I’d used to mouth off on Owain were working against me now.

She was a queen – the queen.

Or maybe you’re buying into a stupid hierarchy, the more rational part of me thought. You’re scared of this woman because she ordered you to be killed if her husband wasn’t brought back to her. All without a second thought.

The awe evaporated and resentment took its place.

“I was told you have that look about you,” she said, letting go and staring me down. I took a step back and she smiled. “That you look at others as if they are beneath you. The bearing of nobility.” The queen laughed, surprising me. “That displeases you?”

“What?” I said, then my eyes widened. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty, I mean…I don’t understand.”

“I am quite good at seeing the faces men hide, Champion,” she returned. She waved her hand and Cicero and Riaan — who were still bowing — straightened. “Displeasure flickered past you, settling into something ugly. Were you not my son’s saviour, I would be very displeased by you.”

“My apologies, Your Majesty,” I said. “I shall endeavour to be better.”

She smiled, her eyes cutting. “My son has taught you well,” she said. “I was told you were something of a simple fellow. Direct, as those of your kind are want to be but you’ve risen above your birth. You might very well have greatness in you.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” I said, because she was making keeping the distance easier.

This is the nobility, I thought. These are their thoughts and beliefs, even if they’re gussied up by niceties and ‘honour’. Privilege wraps around everything, allowing people to ignore the plight of the lower class or explain it away as their own doing; but sometimes people have so much privilege that they can be as shitty as possible without worry of backlash. Just like her. Just like the king.

And I’m a part of it.

So what now? I thought. What does this change?

More than anything it meant not forgetting, not getting caught up.

But what about the people? What about those who are suffering?

That was something I couldn’t answer.

“You did the Mandaron family a great service in saving one of its sons,” the Queen said, cutting through my thoughts. “Which is why I went to the trouble of coming here instead of having you summoned. You fought your base cowardice and kept at my son’s side until he was returned home, for that you deserve a reward. Tell me what you wish and it will be given to you.”

I want to go home, I thought, but she wouldn’t be able to give me that. A part of me wanted to tell her that, to show her how little power she had in the grand scheme of things, but that sort of impudence would get me killed.

So…escape. If the queen got the king to agree to let us go on the trip and it was in Harrengrove, then I could find a time to sleep away, though it wouldn’t be that easy.

No, that won’t work. If the king’s scared of his kids getting hurt then he won’t send them to a duchy that has potential enemies.

Then something else.

“No doubt Her Majesty already knows of the plan the royal children had to train me to hunt,” I said. She nodded slightly. “With the recent incident it was thought that it might not go ahead. I would appreciate you talking to His Majesty on our behalf, Your Majesty. Perhaps a trip to the Pastures so we might hunt game there? With everything that happened it’s possible that none of the king’s enemies would think we would go out, offering us a measure of secrecy.”

She hummed. “It might not be as easy as you think,” she said. “Secrets are hard to keep, after all, but I will speak to my husband.”

“Your honour me, Your Majesty,” I said.

She hummed again. “Grand Mage Cicero,” she said, turning. “Walk with me.”

“Fuck the nobility,” I muttered when all of them were gone.

No matter what happened I would get out of this fucked up place. She might not have sufficient pull with her husband to get things done, but it was better to get started, reading the maps, seeing the animals in the Pastures and thinking about how I’d give Ally and her ladies in waiting the slip.

Food first, I thought, as my stomach grumbled.

I left the training room, humming Yeah under my breath.