Roel led them up to his room. They were an unlikely duo – Joseph, with his soft smile that conflicted with his towering frame, and Rados, with the many scars lining his face and his wild red hair. But of course, there was one thing that united them.

There was only a single chair in the room, which he offered first to Joseph and then Rados. Both declined his offer, but it’d be improper for him to be the only one sitting so he remained standing.

“I’m not sure if I told you this already, but I find it impressive how you always observe etiquette, Sir Roel,” Joseph said with genuine praise.

“Thank you, it’s just that I had a mother who was very particular about such things.”

Joseph raised an eyebrow. “So, paladins do have mothers. I had heard a story once that claimed paladins were personally crafted by the Lord and then delivered to the Basilica of Gaul.”

“That sounds like quite an outlandish–”

“I didn’t come here for this nonsensical prattle,” Rados growled. “Let’s get to the point. Why was I only told yesterday that the paladin knew about our escape plan?”

“Again, I apologize for not informing you sooner, Rados,” Joseph said. “It was a last-minute decision made by the prince.” Rados frowned but didn’t say anything else.

“The original plan involved Rados and his men,” Joseph explained to him. “We were going to stage a falling out between Rados’ band of mercenaries and Prince Ghislain, which ends with them storming the castle and killing him. But Rados was planning to stay in Calorin after we fled, so he’d have to go into hiding afterward. It’s much more convenient to have you be the murderer.”

“You were going to stay behind?” he asked Rados with surprise. It seemed too illogical to remain in Calorin after such a plan, especially since his red hair and northern accent would easily give him away. He also couldn’t understand why the mercenary would go so far for Ghislain.

“I have my reasons, paladin.” Rados folded his arms over his chest. “Some of my men, though, are half-decent sailors and boyish adventurers at heart, so I told the prince that he could take them along if he wanted.”

It didn’t seem like he would say anything more about his involvement with the prince’s plans, but out of the corner of his eye, Roel saw the brief glance that Joseph had given the large man as he was speaking.

When he had first met Joseph, his assessment of him had been distorted by his suspicions that Joseph was colluding against the prince. But now he knew that Joseph was a man of sincerity and honesty, and that made him too easy to read. It was clear that the marquis knew why Rados wanted to stay behind and the details of his relationship with the prince.

Joseph cleared his throat. “Well, that was all before. Now that the prince is…” He swallowed hard before continuing. “Now that he’s dead, our agreements have been canceled.”

“Oh, is that so?” he said, surprised. He looked at Joseph but found that he couldn’t stare at him too long before averting his gaze. It was that cold feeling of guilt again.

He was guilty of many things, the most recent being how he had treated Lady Cleo the other night. But if there was anything close to honorable about him, it was that he didn’t make promises he wouldn’t keep. He had intended to protect Joseph and lend him assistance in escaping if he needed it. He didn’t consider that Joseph would want to stay in Calorin.

“To leave the continent was always the prince’s dream,” Joseph said with a sad smile. “I was content with following him wherever he wanted to go, but alas.” Although he was still clearly mourning the loss, the marquis didn’t have the same lifeless look about him that Mateo had had.

“What are your plans for the future then?” he asked.

“I asked him the same thing,” Rados grumbled. “If it’s revenge, then me and my men could help. I still owe the prince a thing or two, and it bothers me to have obligations to the dead.”

“No, I have no specific plans for revenge,” Joseph said, and it seemed to be the truth. “If there’s a chance to exact revenge, I’ll take it, but I have no intention of making it my life’s goal. It’d just be a waste of time when we have so few leads.”

“That’s respectable,” Roel said, surprised that a man of Calorin would say something like that. He had heard from some of the soldiers that the marquis hailed from Arthain, and he wondered if they had different beliefs over there.

In Calorin, revenge was regarded as a highly honorable goal, and it often served as the basis of many popular stories, such as Sir Gabin and the 27 Knives. He would never voice it, but he thought the same as Joseph did. Revenge, particularly when the target was vague or going after the target equated to stumbling in the dark for clues, was a pointless cycle of violence.

“Suit yourself,” Rados said. “If you give me the word, I won’t hesitate to go after those heretics.”

“Thank you. If such an opportunity arises, you’ll be the first one I’ll ask for,” Joseph said. “However, Sir Roel, I must ask again: you don’t remember any other details from your encounter with the heretics?”

So, it was this again.

“I don’t think so. I had planned to meet the prince later in the night, so I was walking around the camp and thinking of how to respond to him. They must’ve attacked me around the same time the fires started; I have no doubt that it was a coordinated attack to keep me occupied,” he recited.

“There were three of them, and they were unnaturally strong. It’s possible that they were Oracles. Before I could finish them off, they muttered to each other in Graecian and fled. I would’ve gone after them, but I heard the howls and realized that we were being attacked by Berine wolves. We would suffer heavy losses if I didn’t help. Or at least that’s how I justify it to myself. But if I had just killed those heretics instead of letting them flee, maybe the prince would still be…”

Joseph stared hard at him, but there was no suspicion on his face. “Sir Roel, no one blames you,” he said firmly. “Prince Ghislain found you to be a trustworthy man, and I’m sure he wouldn’t blame you either.”

“Thank you, your words bring me great relief,” he said, ignoring the pangs of guilt he felt deep in his chest that conflicted with his words.

“We’ll just have to wait to see how the king responds.” Joseph sighed. “For now, I’ll do my best to serve the kingdom and preserve Prince Ghislain’s legacy. First, I have to report the unfortunate news to Duchess Marianne and help her run the duchy.”

Duchess Marianne? It had never occurred to Roel that Ghislain had had a family. It should’ve been an obvious inference that his marriage had been arranged from a young age. The pangs of guilt grew sharper.

“Not that I care too much about Calorin politics, but how’s that going to work out?” Rados asked. “The prince didn’t have any heirs, right? And the duchess is the princess of another country. Or so I’ve heard.”

“I’m not quite sure,” Joseph admitted. “But regardless, I’ll do what I can to ensure that Brackith remains stable. To be honest, the prince and I had been slowly stockpiling precious gems to use for bartering once we left the continent, but since that’s no longer a possibility, I could sell those discreetly and invest the money in the duchy.”

“I suppose I’ll go back with you to the castle,” Rados said. “With the prince gone, me and my men will make sure no one gets too bold.”

Roel saw it again, Joseph’s knowing glance at Rados’ words. But when the marquis turned to him, he had his usual soft smile. “What about you, Sir Roel? I won’t ask you to be Brackith’s Guardian, but I’m sure our people would gladly welcome your presence, you being the Hero of Rove and all.”

“No, I’m not a big fan of the limelight,” he said with a forced chuckle. “Unfortunately, I have an audience with the king in a few days. I’ll try to visit when I have time.”

“Ah, I see,” Joseph said sympathetically. “If the council tries to pin the blame on you for the prince’s death, I’ll testify that you did your best to save him. I won’t let them punish you for something you had no control over.”

Roel laughed bitterly inside. He didn’t know how much information Ghislain had shared with Joseph about the Royal Council, but he clearly didn’t realize the irony of his words. As long as the council had the compliance of the king or the pope, there was very little they couldn’t get away with.

“If we’re done here, I’m going,” Rados said, pushing the door open. “I promised my men a celebration, and it’ll be easier to tell them that we’re marching all the way back to the castle if they’re dead-drunk. Joseph, I’ll see you tomorrow.

“As for you – Roel, was it? As I said when we first met, I knew that only misfortune would follow with your arrival. I’m not personally blaming you for Ghislain’s death, and I don’t really care to know what compelled you to listen to his foolish escape plan.

“But if you ask me, paladins are no better than us mercenaries. You and I, we’re always someone’s bitch. Difference is that you get paid much better for it.” Rados gave him a gap-toothed grin, but there was no humor in it. There was nothing else that it could convey but empathy, the same sorrowful empathy Roel had felt when he had first met him.

“I don’t disagree,” he said calmly, looking the large man in his eyes. “Is that all you wanted to say?”

“Good, you didn’t deny it. I knew you were a smart one. In that case, you should know what’s already coming. Hell, the biggest fool in my camp can feel it. So, I’m only gonna give you one piece of advice. It’s the same thing I tell all my men: if you’re going to die, do it with conviction. Nothing more pathetic than limping into a grave.”

And without waiting for a response, he was gone.

“What was that about?” Joseph said, a perplexed frown on his face. “I’m not sure I understand everything he said, but please forgive his language. It seems I’m destined to be around men with foul mouths and good hearts.”

“Marquis Joseph.” They were alone, and it was possible that there’d be no opportunity to talk to Joseph again anytime soon. Rados was right – he knew what was coming, and it wasn’t a matter of if but of how soon. With all that in mind, there was one thing left to be said to the marquis, and he would say it with conviction.

“Yes, what is it?” the marquis said. “You have such a serious expression on your face, Sir Roel.”

“On the day that he died, I had a conversation with Prince Ghislain,” he said, mixing truth with lies. “He spoke warmly of you.”

“Spoke warmly?” Joseph paused and then laughed, but there was something forced about it. “His Majesty wouldn’t speak warmly about his own mother.”

“We struck a deal,” he continued. “I can’t tell you what he promised me, but I promised him that if he were unable to, I would protect you.”

Joseph’s eyes became wide, and quietly, almost as if he were talking to himself, he said, “Ghislain would never ask for something like that.”

“He did.” Although they were standing across from each other, he still couldn’t look at Joseph for too long without feeling guilt, so he kept his eyes to the ground, his head bowed in the same way that it had been when he delivered the fake corpse. “So, please, if you are ever in any sort of trouble, call for me, and I will lay down my life for you.”

There was a long silence in the room. He couldn’t see the expression on Joseph’s face, but he heard him take a deep breath. The sun was setting, and the waning glow of the afternoon sky flooded in through the window. When Joseph finally spoke, it was with wry amusement.

“Are you trying to make me cry?”

He looked up at him. The marquis had a soft smile on his face, and his right hand was placed on his chest. It was the calmest grieving he had ever seen.

“Lord,” Joseph said with the slightest trace of sorrow, “I really am surrounded by men with foul mouths and good hearts.”