The Tijervyn Chronicles
Chapter Twelve

story by
Richard Fife

art by
April Herron

Chapter Twelve: “The Next Day”

Gavrial opened the false panel and waited. On another day, he would probably have sauntered up the narrow staircase beyond as if he owned the place, all things considered, but after last night, he was hardly in the mood to make light or risk getting shot. After a moment, he called up.

“Oy, Nikki, it’s me. Can we come up?”

There was a shuffle up above. After a moment, a voice came back. “Who’s me?”

“Thrust,” he said. “From the Hole.”

Footsteps thumped down the stairs, and Nikki appeared in the doorway. She looked him over with concern on her face. After a moment, she crossed her arms and looked further down the empty hall.

“I heard there was a raid,” she said. “Are you it?”

“No,” he said. “The rest are scattered up and down the street. I didn’t want to get your watcher all in a tizzy before I made sure it was alright with you if we came up here.”

She nodded. “How many?”

“Bryon, Gust, Vlad, and the new kid, Markus,” he said. “And my charming self, of course.”

“That horde of street-rats Bryon collects not with you?”

Gavrial shook his head. “Margot got out with them first. They weren’t at the fall back, but I’m sure they’re all fine. She’s probably getting them set up somewhere else.”

“Kira with her too, then?” Nikki blanched, and Gavrial realized he must have scowled.

“No.”

Nikki opened her mouth to say something else, but closed it and sympathy flashed across her face.

“Can we come in?” He really did not want to talk about what had happened in the hall. “Markus is injured.”

“Bleeding?” she said. “I know a doc that could patch him up, no questions asked.”

“No, not bleeding.” He made a vague hand gesture. “But hurt. Just not doc hurt.”

Nikki looked at him through narrow eyes. “Those rumors are true then? He’s the revenant everyone is whispering about?”

Gavrial made a shushing motion. “Yes, yes, but you don’t need to go telling the whole city about it.”

“And you want to bring him into my hideout?” she said. “After what happened at yours?”

He flexed his hand into a fist at his side. “Bryon says it wasn’t anything to do with him.”

“What do you say?”

“I—” He took a deep breath. “It wasn’t anything to do with Markus, not leastwise that we can tell. Can I get them, Nikki, or are you going to turn your friends out on their ear?”

Her back stiffened and she made as if to spit but stopped herself. “Fine.”

She went back up the stairs, closing the panel behind her, and he descended several floors back to the street. Once he was outside, he looked around, patted about himself as if he was looking for something, then turned around and went back inside. A casual observer might think that he was some random person who had forgotten his timepiece inside the large downtown flats, but those who knew to look saw the signal that they could come on inside. Had Nikki politely refused them, he would have actually pulled out a timepiece, checked it, then started off for the fallback. Had she been less than polite, or if something had been wrong, he would not have signaled at all.

He only had to wait in the front hall of the flats for a few moments before Vlad and Markus hobbled in. Markus seemed to not be any worse than he had in the tunnel, although he still leaned heavily on Vlad. The faint sound of grinding gears and hissing steam accompanied his motion, but his face was only worried without a hint of pain.

“I thought you said could feel in those new limbs of yours,” Gavrial said.

“I can,” Markus said. “And I felt being shot quite clearly, and yes it hurt. I pulled the pin that lets me feel, though. I figured feeling the gears grinding themselves into oblivion in my knee would not exactly be helpful to anyone.”

“Not natural,” Gavrial said. “A man shouldn’t be able to just turn his pain off like that. Least, not without a strong drink.”

“Then just pretend I gave him a drink,” Vlad said. “Although, it looks more like you could use the drink than Markus.”

Gavrial huffed and crossed his arms, and a few moments later Bryon entered, and then Gust. Gust’s face was an unreadable mask, but Bryon still showing his shock and despair clear as day. He had not said a thing since they were in the tunnels, although his lips kept moving in silence, as if he was muttering to himself.

“Right then,” Gavrial said. “The Aviary is willing to take us in for now, but Nikki isn’t too happy about it, especially since she was able fit the rumors to truth and knows about Markus. So, let’s be right good guests, eh?”

Bryon made no response, but everyone else nodded. Gavrial grunted and led them back upstairs, where he pulled open the false panel and went up into Nikki’s hideout without a second’s pause. At the top of the stairs, two men stood casually to one side with their hands in their pockets.

Gavrial waved his hand dismissively at the men. “Calm down Dane, Livell. I didn’t lead Nikki false. Four more coming up.”

He took a few more steps in and looked around the Aviary. The attic of the building had been turned into the gang’s hideout, and makeshift walls had been nailed up to form the rooms. The main room where Gavrial now stood was perhaps half of the area, and had numerous pieces of furniture, from couches to tables, and a small kitchen area occupied one corner. In all, it probably was a bit smaller than The Hole, but then again, Nikki only had her gang, seven people total, not a whole swarm of urchins.

“Where is she?” he said.

Dane looked away from where the rest of Bryon’s gang was coming in. “Her room, back that way.”

Gavrial walked back into the narrow hallway that had been formed from plywood roughly nailed together and found Nikki inside the first door. She looked up at him from her desk and gestured for him to come in.

“So, where’s Bryon?” she said. “I expected him to be the one to come asking for help, not you.”

“That’s actually what I want to talk to you about.” He entered the office and sat down in the chair opposite her. “He’s all out of sorts since what happened. I’m not much of one to try and get into people’s heads, but I think he’s blaming himself for what happened.”

“And what exactly did happen, Gavrial?” she said.

“We were ambushed by constables,” Gavrial said. “Don’t rightly know how they found us, but I have an idea. Bryon thinks it was his fault, though.”

“And why would he think that?”

Gavrial chewed his lip for a moment. “There were two men in the raid from the military, but they were dressed up like constables. Bryon thinks an officer friend of his backstabbed us.”

Nikki frowned. “If they were dressed up as constables, how did you know they were military?”

“I know,” he said.

She raised a hand defensively. “Calm down, alright. Are these military goons who shot Kira?”

“Shot?” Gavrial shook his head. “No, she wasn’t shot. They were who got her, though. Clubbed her out then dragged her off.”

“She has the nautilus,” Nikki said. “If they can actually charge her with anything . . . .”

“Execution,” Gavrial said. “I don’t think it will come to that. The military took her.”

“Doesn’t mean she can’t still be in a jail.” Nikki stood and poked her head out of the door. “Kass, where are you girl? Get in here.”

Nikki returned to her seat just as a younger woman with an earring like metal feathers walked into the office. “What, boss?”

“Kass, go ask around, find out if Kira Jons was rounded up and is in any of the jails. Be discrete, though. It’s a bit of a hot subject right now.” Kass bobbed her head and left, and Nikki turned back to Gavrial. “We’ll know soon enough if we need to be mounting any daring rescues from the gallows.”

Gavrial took a deep breath and crossed his arms. “I could only hope it will be so simple.”

Nikki gave him a onceover and leaned forward, elbows on her desk. “You said you have an idea of why this happened, Gavrial? I am assuming it is different than Bryon’s?”

Gavrial shook his head. He might not agree with Bryon, but Bryon was still the boss, and he had good points on why it was not Markus besides. “If Bryon says it was this officer, then it was this officer. Still doesn’t make a lick of sense why they took Kira, though, and Bryon is too shook up, so I have to make do.”

Nikki nodded. “Well, I’d help you if I could, but the Aviary has its own problems. You can stay here a bit while you get your feet back under you, but that’s about all I can offer.”

“I understand,” Gavrial said. “It’s right decent of you, too.”

“I can call a doc, though,” she said. “If any of yours need it.”

“We’re fine enough,” he said. “But I had best go check on Markus.”

He stood, but Nikki coughed. “He isn’t going to go crazy and kill us in our sleep, is he? I’ve heard some tall stories from soldiers, and some rumors coming up from Adervynian merchants.”

Gavrial looked back at her. “Well, he hasn’t done it yet.”

She nodded. “Well, as I said, you are welcome here, but, well, the sooner you’re out, the better, right?”

He nodded. “Right.”

* * *

Count Jaeger walked among the crowd in the Tresling Gardens, smiling to lesser nobles, listening for a moment to the more important ones, and pointedly ignoring Prince Dorian. It was not that he truly despised the prince, as so many thought. No, in all truth, Prince Dorian would likely become a capable leader once he finished playing at being a prince and honestly put his mind to being a ruler. He would, in all probability, be a well remembered king, if only because his penchant for vision would help the country through the post-war years. At least, it would if he let his administrators carry out the vision without his interference.

No, it was not hatred that made him treat the prince so. It was the need for an illusion of power. As the meeting with Tesma had proven, the prince could easily rescind any writ or order Jaeger penned, and all Jaeger could do was say “by your leave.” But, if everyone knew that he did not care for the prince and that feeling was mutual, people would either underestimate him and be ripe for his maneuvering, or they would overestimate him and tread more carefully for the perceived power he held. Long as they never suspected exactly what he was capable of, he would stay ahead of the game.

A messenger deftly worked his way through the crowd and caught Jaeger’s eye. A moment later, the man was leaning towards the count’s ear.

“Milord,” he said. “There was an incident in town last night.”

Jaeger raised an eyebrow. “That is like saying there was a fish in the sea, my good boy. What in specific?”

“A fire, milord,” the man said. “In the slums. Nearly a block went up before it was under control. The Fire Marshall said you would want to know.”

Jaeger narrowed his eyes and looked the man over. “How did you arrive?”

“By carriage, milord.” The man pulled at his collar. “Is there a return message, milord?”

“I think I shall head back to the city,” he said.

The messenger paled. “You, um, my carriage can take you, milord.”

Jaeger looked at the man then realized what was bothering him. He thought Jaeger was going to abscond with his carriage and leave him stranded miles from the city.

“Thank you, no,” Jaeger said. “There is an airship I can take. It will be faster, I’d imagine.”

The messenger sighed, caught himself, then bowed and left. Jaeger worked his way through the crowd to where Maaike was chatting amicably with Lord Holmes’s daughter, Brittanie.

“And then, wouldn’t you know,” Brittanie said. “Jesie was able to just put it back together, and it worked better than before I’d dropped it in the pond!”

“A good meister is a handy thing to have around,” Maaike said.

“Excuse me, Lady Holmes,” Jaeger said. “But, Lady Kanadis, might I beg an indulgence? You have your airship here, yes? I am needed back in the city, and I hoped you might be able to ferry me there? I’m sure the Prince, whom I came with, is not ready to leave yet.”

Maaike made a face as if she was being put upon, but her eyes silently thanked Jaeger. “I suppose I can, for the Prince.”

Jaeger gave her a fake smile that even Brittanie should have been able to see for what it was, and he extended his arm. Maaike took it, gave him a cool look, and they walked off towards the vast lawn where the airships were moored.

Once they were clear of the other nobles, Jaeger cleared his throat. “When I said come up with a plausible excuse for me to return to the city, I didn’t mean you had to burn down a block of the slums.”

“Burn down—what?” She kept her eyes forward. “My distraction was going to be some minor constable who was unable to do his job.”

“Then that messenger wasn’t yours?” he said. “I thought that his having actually come here via a carriage and being ready to give it to me was a bit far, even for you.”

“So what exactly happened?”

“A fire in the slums,” he said. “It apparently took out an entire block.”

“From what I saw of the slums when I was flying in, it doesn’t seem like that would be all that rare of an occurrence.” She snorted softly. “I’m surprised it hasn’t already completely burned down.”

“Those buildings are built a little better than you might think,” Jaeger said. “Sentatian industrialists long ago learned that there is a minimum amount of investment you can give to your workers, and a home that easily burns or falls over isn’t in it. No, for a block to go up, it was most likely arson.”

“Industrial sabotage?” Maaike said. “One factory owner trying to kill off his rival’s workforce?”

“That happened years ago, during the war,” he said. “Since then, all the workers are all together in a hodgepodge. Can’t get all the workers in a single accident, and more than likely will take just as many of yours as theirs.”

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or appalled,” she said. “Industrialists are almost as ruthless as nobles.”

“Half the time, there isn’t a difference.” He offered his hand to her as they reached the boarding ladder to her ship.

She eyed the hand then climbed up onto the ship without it. By the time he was inside, she was already walking back from the pilot’s cabin. Outside, dockworkers they had brought from the castle worked on casting off the lines that held the ship terrestrially bound. In short order, the ship was lifting into the sky, and Jaeger and Maaike sat comfortably in the passenger’s lounge, which almost could have doubled for a sitting room back in the castle, only with a better and ever changing view.

“So,” she said. “Tesma.”

“Yes, Tesma,” Jaeger said. “This will prove to be an interesting nut to crack, I think.”

“More of a burr to cast aside,” she said. “He may be deeply entrenched here, but Tijervyn was ripe for one of his kind. Now that we know the leech is there, it should be a simple matter to pull it off.”

Jaeger folded his hands and looked at the younger woman. He had to remind himself that she was younger, despite her worldly bearing. “And what makes you say that?”

“The man obviously has no talent for real politics,” she said. “He avoids court and only shows up when he has to. And that he only manages by his reputation, his unnerving manner, and a fair amount of showmanship.”

“Showmanship?” Jaeger said. “I presume you are referring to that spectacular trouncing he gave you on the piste.”

She narrowed her eyes. “He may have bested my blade, but he tipped his hand. On the final touch, he whispered to me to not meddle with him. He is either scared or over-confident, both of which we can use to our advantage.”

“I would surmise he is simply confident,” Jaeger said. “Dorian was all but knuckling his forehead and begging Tesma’s forgiveness. Come to think of it, I think he did beg forgiveness. Pray tell, what has a man like that have to fear, long as he just keeps doing what he’s been doing?”

“Us, for one thing,” she said. “Or to be more exact, you. You have the influence in court to turn the nobles against him. He should be working for the nobles, not the other way around, and all you need to do is help them remember that.”

“Tell me,” he said. “How well did your little campaign fare?”

“I’m a nobody here,” she said. “Less, for the time I spent in Adervyn. You are different. You are—”

“The Sunset Count,” he said. “Do you know why I’m called that?”

She shook her head.

“Long ago, Tijervyn was the westernmost city in Sentat, before the colonies across the sea. It was in this time that the dukes started appointing counts to administer their fiefs while they played at court. They all had pet names for their counts, and as Tijervyn was the last city to see the sun set in the kingdom, thus my title was born.”

“I don’t see—”

He held up a hand, begging patience. “Few people remember that. Nowadays, you ask a noble why I’m the Sunset Count, and they will tell that it is because the position is where a noble goes to watch his career sail into the sunset. Sometimes they are kind enough to say that it also assures his family’s rise in future generations, but most people know that doesn’t really happen.”

“But you solicited for the position,” she said. “So that would indicate you think otherwise.”

“Do I?” he said. “Or did I take it for reasons completely not related to any of that?”

She blinked. “Then why take it?”

He shrugged. “It isn’t here nor there. What I’m trying to point out, though, is that all of my power is perceived. I cannot just flex some political muscle and force Tesma out. My power is in the shadows, Lady Kanadis.”

“We don’t have time for shadow manipulations,” she said.

“You misunderstand me,” he said. “I did not say we had to move slowly. To the contrary, I agree with you on the severity of this situation. But we cannot win this through direct conflict. That is Tesma’s strength and our weakness. Instead, we must come at him indirectly.”

She frowned. “I thought that was what I was doing, trying to slowly turn the nobles against him.”

“By talking to the nobles?” He stood and walked over to the window. “No, that is still rather direct.”

“And what do you suggest?”

He turned back and looked at her. There was a small curl to her lip, but the rest of her face was calm and open. Young, yes, and very sure of herself besides. All the worse for actually having something to be sure about.

“You don’t trust me,” he said.

“I wouldn’t say that,” she said.

“No, you wouldn’t,” he said. “But that doesn’t make it untrue. I know you are here to help Kanadis and yourself. If you weren’t, I’d actually be worried about what your intentions are. But personal gain I can understand and work with. I can’t promise you that there will be gain for Kanadis at the end of this, that isn’t my concern. But I will keep in mind that you would like to see it.”

Her jaw was firm and tense. “That is amazingly generous and frank of you.”

He gave her a broad, toothy smile then looked back out the window. “I figured you weren’t one to be manipulated, and I was taught a long time ago that when manipulation wouldn’t work, the truth might.” There was a faint intake of breath, perhaps something that would be missed by most, but he had expected it. “Tell me, does old Azziri still teach at the University?”

“She’s the headmistress now,” she said. “You studied in Voxfeld?”

“A long time ago,” he said. “I remember Azziri as a junior professor. Still, I’d imagine the core of the curriculum hasn’t changed that much in all these years. I noticed that you tried to apply one of those lessons on the piste yesterday, for the final touch.”

“All the good it did me,” she said.

“It still unnerved him the most,” he said. “Something unexpected, and moreover, indirect. That, milady, is our path.”

“Fine in theory,” she said. “But how in action?”

“Tell me,” he said. “How have Voxfeld’s meisters been doing?”

She furrowed her brow. “They are passable, I’d suppose. They don’t have anyone like Quintin or Tesma, as far as I could tell. If they had, I would have stayed there instead of going to Adervyn.”

“But, the regular meisters? How do they compare to ours, or Adervyn’s?”

“About the same,” she said. “Perhaps even a little above par, for having to rely on their own ingenuity instead of being able to leech off a Tesma or Quintin.”

“And tell me, did you still make contacts among them anyway?”

She made a casual, dismissive gesture. “Of course. If it is one thing you can never have too many of, it is contacts.”

“Good girl,” he said. “I think, perhaps, you should write to them with a unique opportunity”

* * *

Gavrial knocked on the door then walked in before anyone could respond. Inside, Vlad and Markus looked up from where they sat at a table. Between them, a metal leg was partially disassembled. Gavrial stared at the leg for a moment then glanced under the table; there were only three legs.

“You can take it off?”

Markus smiled and narrowed his eyes. “Why not? It’s only gears and tubes. Makes it easier to service.”

Gavrial gestured to the rest of the table, which was strewn with tools. “And where did all of these come from?”

“They were stashed away in a compartment,” Vlad said. “This leg, it is covered in little compartments or niches to stick things.”

“It’s not natural.” Gavrial crossed his arms. “None of it.”

Markus stared at Gavrial for a moment. “No, it isn’t. That’s the point, Gavrial. I lost my arm and legs. I had a piece of shrapnel lodged next to my heart. I was going to die. I should have died. And you know what, most days I wish I did die. Do you think this was my choice? That I enjoy being like this?”

Gavrial took a step back and raised his hands. “I never said—”

“It was forced on me,” Markus said. “One moment, I’m standing in a tent with my superior officer, the next I wake up on the operating table with half of my body missing and a strange tingle coming from behind my head. That’s how it was out there, Gavrial. And it was all legal and fine. Us soldiers had signed away our rights on a dotted line.”

Gavrial scowled. “Then it’s still your own Praedin-be-damned fault for going to that war in the first place!”

“My fault?” Markus laughed. “My fault? No one knew about the Secret of Silver when I joined the military. How was I to know what they would do with that loophole that said they could do what they wanted with my body if I was dying?” He took a deep breath and looked down at the leg before him.

“You know,” he continued. “I was lucky, in a way. When I was ‘reclaimed’, they were still just replacing what had been lost. Later in the war, others . . . the meisters figured out that they could add to a person, put things there that hadn’t been there before. New arms, extra legs, guns . . . I saw one man who had a miniature howitzer built into his back. And if you got lucky enough to finally shoot one of them down, if you didn’t actually kill it, they just dragged him back to those bone-saw doctors, and they patched him back up and put even more new parts on him. So many didn’t even look human by the end . . . .”

Vlad slowly reached over and put a hand on Markus’s shoulder, but Gavrial harrumphed and crossed his arms. “Perhaps they weren’t.”

Markus looked back up. “That’s what the Troenan priests say, back in Adervyn. They say the spike corrupts a person, and that all of us are doomed because we have defiled the sanctity of our bodies.”

“And haven’t you?” Gavrial said. “You’re a good little Troenan boy, always going over to church.”

“I am the same man I’ve always been,” Markus said. “And I assure you, I have seen far worse horrors come from the hands of wholmen like you than from any halfman. Yes, I try to be a good Troenan, but what am I supposed to do? Kill myself? That’s a worse sin than defiling your body. You tell me, Gavrial? What am I supposed to do?”

“How the hell should I know?” Gavrial looked away. “Can you fix it?”

Markus shook his head and looked back at the leg. “It isn’t as bad as it could have been, but I’m not sure if I’ll actually be able to do anything. I found where I was leaking steam and got that patched, but the rest, well, that bullet made a right mess of my knee.”

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Gavrial said.

Markus nodded, and Gavrial left. He heard Vlad whispering something to Markus, likely encouragement to not mind the big, bad bruiser, but Gavrial did not care to try and listen closer.

Instead, he walked out to the common room where Bryon was sitting alone, staring into the cold hearth and with his clockwork cat in his lap. He had carried the infernal thing out in his pack, and likely had packed it first before anything else, even his money.

He had been sitting in the same place since they arrived, or at least since Gavrial walked back out of Nikki’s office. And he had still been there when Gavrial got back from going out with Gust to look for Margot.

Gavrial sat down near the other man. “Well?”

Bryon only moved his eyes. “Well what?”

“Well, when are you going to get your head out of your nethers?”

“Leave off.” He put his eyes back on the hearth.

“Damn it, Bryon,” Gavrial said. “You need to pull yourself together. You played with fire and got burned. It wasn’t as if you weren’t already expecting it the entire time, what with your escape tunnel.”

“We shouldn’t have had to use it,” Bryon said. “I should have seen it coming. I’ve managed to avoid subtler threats without a problem. We’ve danced out of the constables’ and rivals’ sights more times than I can count. And now, because I never thought Rojer would betray me, Kira’s gone.”

“We still don’t know that it was your military friend,” Gavrial said. “We don’t know much of anything right now, and that is why you need to get over yourself. I got us here, but I’m not the thinking type, and you know it. If we’re going to figure out what happened and how to get Kira back, we need you, Bryon. You’re the brains of this group.”

Bryon shook his head, and Gavrial leaned back in his chair.

“You sure didn’t act this upset when Jak died, back at the Dunny manor.”

“Risk is part of the job.” Bryon spoke the words by rote and flinched the moment they were out of his mouth.

“Yeah, it is,” Gavrial said. “Doesn’t mean we can’t be upset when we lose one of our own. I know you doted on Kira, Bryon. I’m right tore up over this, too. But we don’t know that she’s dead. In fact, I’d imagine if they went to all the effort of taking her, she isn’t, but she might still end up that way if you don’t stop feeling sorry for yourself.”

“Leave me alone, Gavrial.”

“Bryon—”

“Just—” He raised a hand. “Leave me alone.”

Gavrial frowned but stood. He had never seen Bryon like this, and it frankly worried him. He had seen plenty of confident men lose it in the face of a single failure, and Bryon was walking that path too closely for Gavrial’s comfort. Sadly, he could not really think of any way to kick the man out of it. Something told him that getting Bryon drunk or finding him a whore would not help.

He left the Aviary and went back to the street. He still had no clue where Margot had gotten off to, and while Gust was still out there looking, Gavrial was not entirely sure he knew what he was supposed to be out looking for. He spat on the street and looked around.

“One missing, one kidnapped, one broken, and one a sodding wreck.” He ran a hand over his scalp. “A man just can’t catch a break.” He walked off, trying to think of someplace Margot might be that they had not already checked.

* * *

The basement was dark, but at least it was dry. Kira had long since stopped trying to free herself from the manacles that chained her to the wall. Her hands were fairly free to move about, and she could stand or sit, and even move to the middle of the room or to the corner where a privy was dug into the ground. But that did her little good against the cold iron around her wrists, not when she had apparently been thoroughly searched while she was unconscious, and all of her hidden tools had been confiscated.

She had still not seen a single person since she woke up, but it had only been a few hours. She had tried calling out, but there had been no response. Surely they would not ignore her for long, though. She had searched everywhere she could reach, but had found no place where they had left her water. They could not mean to kill her, or else they would have already done it.

Across the room, she heard a latch thrown, and a door opened to allow a faint trickle of light in that still managed to hurt her eyes. Someone passed in front of the light, and soft footsteps stopped just outside of her reach.

“Who are you?” she said.

“Why, me of course, dear sister.”

“Douglis!” She stood and grabbed a length of her chain in her hands. “What is the meaning of this?”

“I am saving you, Kira,” he said. “I do not know what madness possessed you to think you would be the one saving me, but don’t worry, everything will be back to normal now.”

“Normal,” she said. “Do you think father would let me just come back, even if I wanted to?”

“Father doesn’t know,” Douglis said. “Why do you think you are here? I need time to figure it all out, but I will keep you safe, Kira.”

“If you want me to be safe, just let me go, Douglis,” she said. “Just forget you ever saw me.”

He took a step closer, but with her gathered up chain, he was still just out of her reach. “Kira, we are family. Blood. That’s important. It’s something real that one does not find often at court. Most nobles don’t understand. They’re willing to sell their own for a shilling. But I remember you. You sheltered me, took the worst of father.”

He took another step closer, almost in her reach. “I don’t blame you for leaving, and yes, Father did turn his attention to me after you were gone. But, I have survived, and I remember your love, Kira. Now, I will return it. I will protect you, and soon, everything will be alright. Just trust me.”

“Douglis, I—”

Someone else blocked the light from the door, and Douglis turned around. “Yes, yes, Walden. I’m coming.” He turned back to Kira. “I have to go, but I will be back when I can. I’ll make sure your keepers come to check on you often and tend to your needs.”

“A room with a bed might be nice,” she said. “And some light.”

He took a sharp intake of breath. “I read about the gang you run with, The Hole it was called. I thought this would be more of what you were used to. Regardless, this is the best I can do. Anything else and father might find out. But I’ll see if perhaps we can find a lamp to put in the corner, and I’ll make sure they bring you some water.”

She might have imagined in it in the darkness, but he looked like he wanted to say something more. Instead, he turned on his heel and left. The door’s bolt slid back into place, and she dropped the chain and swore. It seemed that, for now at least, she was trapped.