Day 4

“Wait …”

Tenoch-Ling stopped unsure if the word was aimed at her. Tenoch-Ile didn’t have the same dilemma and walked out of the common room. The Imperial Officer didn’t address her anymore and she remained frozen in place. He grabbed and moved a chair near Bartnick and the nameless Royalblood. As he said down, he barked an order to Yamil, “fetch me Rindol, soldier.”

Judging by Yamil’s face, he had no idea what Rindol was. Tenoch-Ling didn’t feel sorry for her head of guards. The arrival of these two men looked to be his doing. He seemed clueless. Yamil had left and reappeared a few minutes later, which earned him a scowl from the Imperial Officer.

“Don’t assume we have time, soldier. We arrived faster because the situation described in your second letter is deemed by us very dangerous. Now, stand back and watch.”

Rindol turned out to be a young, spindly man, a native but with a strange spark in his eye. He wore no Imperial military outfit. Who were these people? As the questions began popping in Tenoch-Ling’s head, the Imperial Officer beckoned Rindol forward.

“State your name and your House, Royalblood,” the Imperial Officer said to the nameless one.

“Not happening,” he responded, completely unbothered. The Imperial Officer tsked, also showing very little concern.

“Rindol, use alchemy on him.”

“Wha—” A loud crunch turned Tenoch-Ling’s blood to ice and her skin to gooseflesh. Bartnick pressed the nameless Royalblood harder against the floor.

Rindol appeared next to them and Bartnick extended the Royalblood’s right arm toward the young man.

“If you start struggle now, I’ll break your arm in as many places as I can,” said Bartnick with a smirk.

“As if you could …” His voice trailed off as Bartnick’s face tensed up. He didn’t break the arm but they were intense. Rindol unwrapped a cloth and placed a well-preserved wooden case on the table. From inside, he pulled out a glass flask with a faintly green liquid inside. Without hesitation, Rindol poured the liquid on the nameless’s arm, near the inner side of the wrist.

“That’s Revelium.”

“Yes. It reveals the House Mark on your wrist. It’s painless,” Rindol quickly replied. He didn’t stop there, from the same case, he produced a sheet of paper, which he pressed against the wet wrist. Was he doing an imprint of the mark? But Tenoch-Ling was ill-prepared for the next thing. From the case, he carefully removed a mirror and put it on the table, then on top of it went the imprinted sheet with an unclear mark. The mirror turned black, then bronze then black again. Its colors fluctuated as Rindol added more liquids and powders. Eventually, the sheet burned away, leaving dry ash. The whole process seemed unbelievably smooth, but something told Tenoch-Ling that she wouldn’t be able to recreate it in a hundred years of learning. Before her eyes that young alchemist did something spectacular. She was now about to learn what.

“Ready.”

“Read aloud,” commanded the Imperial Officer.

“I wouldn’t do it if I were you, Rindol,” the nameless Royalblood warned.

“Ignore him.”

“The mark indicates the House from … the third region.”

“We can deduce this ourselves. How many of the wildlings in the Fifth or Fourth region has such an appearance. Go on.”

“The mark matches the House of Valai.”

Bartnick whistled, “Sneaky cavemen.”

“Tell me the name.”

So he wasn’t a bastard Royalblood.

“I think he tried to change it, but his alchemist turned out to be an amateur. The original mark holds—”

“Name.”

“Valaré.”

“Check the wanted posters. This one didn’t hide his identity without a reason.”

Rindol nodded and departed immediately, taking with him the case.

“Valaré Valai,” murmured the Imperial Officer. “I am not sure if I should be happy to find one of Valais in my region. Your shady dealings with Guei … you’re a bother.”

It was Valaré’s turn to tsk and Tenoch-Ling began wondering if she hasn’t heard too much already. These people were out of her league. She could be rich and all that, but next to them, she was just a child. She’d been warned before to not mess with the Royal Houses.

“Judging by the manner you speak of Guei and my family, I reckon you’re out of your depth … whoever you are.”

“Zyan Quilla.”

“Am I supposed to be worried by your backwater House?”

SNAP!

Valaré Valai’s shivered but made no sound other than a grunt.

“No one in my presence will offend the House of Quilla,” said Bartnick as he let the broken arm drop.

Rindol returned with a starling news a second later.

“He’s wanted, my Lord. A hundred gold coins or one Imperial Favor. Only alive.”

Tenoch-Ling and Yamil were accustomed to deal with more than that, but Imperial Favor was something completely else. It was used as a currency, but its worth was based on the way it was used. Tenoch-Ling had hoped to buy land and build a house in the Second or First Regions. To do so she needed an Imperial Favor. No other way for a commoner to move there and own a piece of land. She’d offered her entire wealth made from the Yellow Sand. It was not enough.

“So are a fugitive,” the Imperial Officer said, then stood up. He paced for a moment before his eyes fell on Yamil and Tenoch-Ling. This time they both quivered. “As much as I wish to get ahold of an Imperial Favor, there are more pressing matters at the moment. If I understand the situation correctly, the sole maker of the Yellow Sand is gone. With him burned the recipe and process instructions. Another person who could make a substance to replace the Yellow Sand left with a bastard Royalblood, so you weren’t able to stop them. Is that correct?”

Yamil nodded.

Had this idiot contacted the Imperials about Charcot, Zuma, and Giliad? They were going to burn down the village and kill everyone … this wasn’t what Tenoch-Ling had wished for.

“I am ready to forget the fact that you kept a bastard Royalblood in your village without informing the Imperial Office … but I need this other man back.”

“He left …” Yamil drawled slowly. He was a soldier, not a thinker.

“We were asking the … Valaré Valai for help in bringing Giliad and Zuma back to us,” Tenoch-Ling quickly added.

“So, I assume you know where he is.”

“On his way to Soto. To kill Butcher.”

The Imperial Officer gave Bartnick a vague glance, then he nudged Valaré Valai with his boot.

“I think we have something that will work for all of us here. You’ll go and fetch this … Zuma and that Royalblood bastard. I’ll forget about you, and this forsaken village.” He turned to Yamil and Tenoch-Ling. “You’ll hand me over your infrastructure and plans of expansion to other Great Cities. You can keep the wealth you’d made out of this. I don’t care about a change. However, if any of you fail, I will take you to the Third Region myself. An Imperial Favor is better than nothing. As for this village, it will be wiped out of the map. In a year, the forest will claim it. Villagers buried alive or sold to slavery. Do we have a deal?”

There was no other response than “YES”. Even Valaré Valai agreed to it.

When this is over, I’m going to kill Yamil. He just gave away everything to fucking Royalbloods.