There had always been a timeline to placing Viokern on the throne. He would be fifteen by the time Duxton was to return from Braytons. They would give him useless titles and position him at posts outside of the capital. All the meanwhile, they would be erasing his presence in the city and show off Viokern’s good graces.

A once secure plan that had been destroyed by war. Six years. They had the move the timeline up by six damn years because these monsters had to crawl out of the swamplands. Viokern was not old enough to lead. They were forced to place their trust in an older, unpredictable candidate who apparently had a taste for violent tendencies.

Laurent took off his reading glasses. He folded them slowly and placed them in their case. Time was taken to adjust the bits and bobbles within his desk drawer before he safely nestled his glasses within them. His guest would have to wait until after he closed his drawer and had a lingering sip of tea.

“Have a seat.” The disdain in Laurent’s tone was staggering.

Veximarl quietly took a seat. He could feel the disappointment radiating off Laurent’s shoulders. Rather than look his way, Veximarl quickly averted his eyes. Laurent’s office was stacked with shelves of texts and religious artworks. Despite being located within a busy hallway, relatively little sound managed to make it past the door.

The room was also silent. Veximarl awkwardly cleared his throat and Laurent responded by pushing a piece of paper forward. A formal complaint filed by Paladin Nicolas, calling for the arrest of Veximarl Fogbloom. It demanded that he be kept imprisoned until a thorough investigation into the prince’s attack had been done by the military police.

Veximarl set the page back on the desk. “I will inform Paladin Nicolas that I have sufficient evidence to arrest Duxton for the arrest of Madam Pennyrile and will pressure for a warrant if he does not drop this issue.”

“What sort of evidence?” Laurent crossed his legs and folded his hands over his knee.

“Sufficient,” firmly replied Veximarl.

Had he been a different man, Laurent would’ve sought to punish Veximarl for his hubris, but he didn’t believe that people needed to be controlled by fear or treated like children. Had Wulfric been in this seat, he would’ve ordered Gwyn’s arrest and kept her dangling in front of Veximarl. He enjoyed the torture of others to keep those around him under control.

Laurent didn’t believe in suffering. Either people proved their worth or they were better off disposed of. Whether it was through dismissal or death, he didn’t keep useless individuals around him. Neryx had put too much importance on Veximarl’s existence. The only reason why Laurent was putting up with this now was that Veximarl’s path was capable of accomplishing several of their goals at once.

“Handle it,” commanded Laurent. If Veximarl failed to prove his worth, Laurent would work him out of the plan. “Have you confirmed my suspicions about Miss Twist?”

Veximarl had been confident when speaking of Duxton, but his shoulders sulked forward as he visibly shrunk in his seat. This is what Laurent had observed to be closer to the necromancer’s true nature. He often put on airs while acting distant and confident but he wasn’t able to maintain that mask when the conversation shifted towards his friends.

“I have.”

A most excellent discovery. Laurent opened a drawer and retrieved a blank piece of paper. “I’ll begin the preparations for her room immediately. It will take a few days to transfer her here. Do not inform Neryx about her true nature.” Laurent pointed upward. “I will inform you that Paladin Zaniyah is being kept with Neryx’s personal collection.”

Veximarl immediately stood up.

Laurent gestured for him to sit back down. “She’s still alive. I am encouraging Neryx to release her. They seem to be under the impression that she must be kept here indefinitely for some reason or another. Neryx is often vague in how they come to such conclusions.”

“I will speak to Neryx on Zaniyah’s behalf. I will also send a letter to Paladin Nicolas and request that he let me be.” Though Veximarl knew he would have better luck if he wrote to Shaw instead.

They were both fools that had been tricked by that damn prince. The two of them had gone together to watch Duxton mail that blasted ring to Rosethorn. Duxton even waved Rosethorn’s reply in their faces. A thank you letter from his professor, who had received the parcel safely.

Either Duxton had prepared a fake, or he had paid off the delivery man to turn around and give the parcel back to him at a later date. Rosethorn’s reply only mentioned a parcel, not its contents. It could have been anything from a bottle of liquor to a new quill.

Shaw’s feelings on the issue were muddled. He twisted the broken ring around his fingers. Betrayal for whose benefit? The only ones who stood to profit from Duxton’s blunder were the same ones eager to slice open his neck.

“Are you going to sit there brooding all day or are you going to do something useful?” Duxton had his eyes closed. He had been trying to sleep after having a successful surgery, but Shaw was keeping him awake by bitterly sitting there.

Shaw didn’t reply.

“No one is going to charge in here and murder me in my sleep,” spat Duxton. He weakly raised an arm and attempted to wave him off. “Go sulk elsewhere.”

Shaw stood up and set the ring down on the nightstand. Duxton opened one eye long enough to see what the item was. “I’m resigning from my position as your guard, effective immediately. Forgive me for the lack of a written notice.”

“You’re being overly dramatic,” replied Duxton.

“And you are no longer a man I wish to serve.” Shaw straightened his back as he solidified his resolve. “My father may still choose to champion your banner, but I will never again fight for you. I will forbid any future children of mine to ally themselves with the crown. The alliance of the four flowered families is now dead by your hand.”

Duxton struggled to sit up. “It was technically dead with that whole Fogbl-”

“Goodbye, Duxton,” interrupted Shaw.

Duxton stared at him for a moment. He glanced at the ring then back to him again. “... I didn’t order Sybil to kill that woman. Her death was far more detrimental to our plans than-”

“You shouldn’t have had that accursed item in the first place! Quit making up excuses for your faults! My trust is one matter but you have gone out of your way to dishonor and torment an innocent woman! It matters not to me if you end up on a throne or dead in a ditch, I declare myself forever free of you.”

Duxton’s usually uptight expression softened for the briefest of moments. “Your resignation has been received and accepted. Best to you and yours in the future, Paladin Shaw.”

Shaw gave a small dip of his head before he left the room.

It was time to leave this place. His broken ribs would still take a few days to harden but he could will himself to move if it was an emergency. Duxton would be better off taking the risk and relocating himself to someplace he would be more welcome.

His eyes closed for what seemed like a moment. When they fluttered open again, he felt a presence sitting in the chair next to him. Had his reflexes dulled to the point where he could no longer sense someone approaching? Those drugs the cleric had provided had done a number on him.

“... Didn’t take you long to crawl- Oh gods, it’s you.”

“Hello!” Fairy chirped with a wave of her hand.

“I don’t hold audiences with literal children,” replied Duxton.

Fairy reached to her side and picked up the sword that was leaning against her chair. “I brought you something.”

The Heart of Eishur. Duxton found himself at a loss for words. That sword, which he had recently been accused of stealing, was now neatly placed in this child’s lap. “... Where did you get that?”

“I stole it,” promptly replied Fairy.

“I understand that, but where and who did you steal it from?” Duxton struggled to prop himself up, ignoring his pain as he did so.

Fairy’s expression remained flat, much like her brother’s often did. “I took it from my brother’s squad room. It was sitting on a weapon rack right next to the door.” She nodded her head in a knowing manner. “Security is quite lax there. It was very easy for me to walk out of there with it.”

Likely because any member of Bronzescale would’ve naturally thought she was fetching it for her brother. “... And why did you take it?”

“Because I didn’t want to go home.” Fairy tilted her head and smiled sweetly.

Duxton stared at her with absolute disgust. She was doing that annoying thing that guilty people do when they wish to avoid getting into trouble. The whole speaking vaguely while sounding like it is also a fact that anyone should simply know.

He didn’t have the energy to put up with those types of people even when he was at the peak of health. “What do you want in exchange for that sword?”

Everything was going smoothly. Fairy smiled all the wider, knowing that he was playing directly into her hands. “I need you to tell me how I can enter the palace.”

Duxton pursed his lips for a moment, narrowing his eyes as he did so. “Buy yourself a nice dress and request an audience with Father Laurent. Introduce yourself as a merchant noble from Carapace and express interest in having a marriage interview with Viokern.”

“Is it really that simple to meet with a prince?” Fairy was stunned.

Duxton’s half-curious stare turned into a full-on glare. She was meeting with a literal prince right now. Not that fake duchess’ son who was tutting his feathers around acting like some forlorn fool. How pitiful he was, having to put up with all this drama without having the courage to get his own hands dirty.

While he glared, Fairy was planning everything out in her head. She had a few pieces that could sell for a high price. Perhaps she could walk into a higher-end store and offer to trade part of her collection for a proper gown. Today was a holiday. It would be better to ask for an invitation to the palace tomorrow.

“No, you absolute twit.” Duxton popped Fairy’s delusions with his sharp words. “They’ll think you’re a spy trying to force your way into the palace for some dumb reason and refuse you entry.” Duxton rolled his eyes. “What reason do you have to enter there?”

“It’s where they’re holding Zaniyah hostage,” replied Fairy in a matter-of-fact manner. “I overheard the news myself.”

And there was that annoying loyalty that those Carapace brats were known for. Little spiderlings were always clinging to each other. They longed for moments where they could make big speeches or make dumb decisions involving blindlessly risking their lives. It was that sort of ideology that had infected Shaw and turned him into someone no longer appropriate to serve at his side.

Absolute annoyance, that’s what it was. Duxton shook his head with disappointment. “The world isn’t that simple.”

“Ah,” replied Fairy knowingly. “Next plan.” She held up a set of fingers, which she then used to point at the sword. “That’s a king-making sword, isn’t it? Just wave it around, making it glow all bright and such. They’ll make you king after that.”

Duxton stared at her like she was a complete idiot.

Fairy shook her hand. “I have it all worked out.” She pulled out a glass gem from her pocket. “The blade is made of partially transparent stone which means we can refract light into it and,” the ornament she held glowed brightly. “See? They won’t be able to tell the difference!”

This chaotic energy was somehow one of the most intelligent plans that Duxton had ever heard. He opened his mouth for a moment, then closed it. That was an idea that he would have to pocket and save for later.

“As I said before, the world isn’t that simple.” But her words were already twisting gears inside his head. “Where is your brother? I haven’t heard any city-wide alarms going off. I’m assuming he hasn’t blown anything up yet.”

Fairy shrugged. “He said he was going to lay low for a while.”

Duxton shifted his legs, groaning as he did so. He stood up and walked over to the armoire. “Tell him that I wish to meet with him now.”

Out of the lot of Grimstone squad brats, Sybil was the most annoying when left on her own. The real danger came if she or anyone else got themselves into serious trouble. That’s when Chickadee set himself loose and started to blow the sides off buildings. Duxton feared what would happen once Chickadee decided that he was bored of laying low.

Fairy looked down at her letter, ignoring Duxton as he changed his shirt. “He says no.” Chickadee used more colorful language than that. She chose to paraphrase.

“Bribe him with something,” muttered Duxton.

“Okay. How attached are you to your blood?” Fairy began a rapid text conversation between her and her brother. Chickadee was now reprimanding her for talking to Duxton on her own.

“Fairly. I’m fairly attached to my blood,” replied Duxton. “Bribe him with something that has a monetary value.”

“Technically, any part of the body could be purchased for the right price,” whispered Fairy, much to Duxton’s nervousness. “Are you sure you want to buy him something? I’m not fully aware of your situation, but it doesn’t seem like you’re going to own any of that royal money for much longer and I don’t believe they’ll let you live here forever. Do you even have an established income? You don’t seem like the investment type, but maybe?”

Duxton glared at her agaom.

“Allow me to be honest, Mister Aconite,”

“Prince,” corrected Duxton. “Prince Duxton.”

“Mister Aconite,” repeated Fairy. “Please don’t consider offering my brother any physical comfort, because you are absolutely no one’s type. No one in their right mind would wish to- Oh, hold on, he replied.” Her eyes scanned her letter. “He says he’ll meet you if you let him slap you across the face really hard.”

Duxton continued to glare at her. His pride had been hurt at that moment, but he didn’t wish to let that show. “... We have a deal.”

“Fantastic,” chirped Fairy. She held out the sword for him to take. “Do you wish to go right away?”

Duxton took the sword and attached it to his belt. “I do.”

Fairy insisted on paying for the carriage, as she honestly thought that Duxton should hold onto any money he had. Chickadee had given them directions to an apartment building in the theater district. He was staying in a studio on the top floor. The unfortunate owner of the apartment, Kogin, was spending the holiday with his family.

The pair walked up the stairs and were greeted by a Chickadee wearing an oversized tunic. One of Kogin’s, borrowed until Fairy had brought him his clothing. He was very grateful to take his luggage from Fairy when she offered it. It was very awkward for him to wear clothes covered in another man’s smell.

Duxton opened his mouth to speak, but Chickadee held up a hand.

“Convince me that I need to listen to you.”

Duxton tilted his head. He had half expected to get slapped first. “This sword,” he said as he drew the blade out from the scabbard, “has the ability to let you speak to the gods. Would you like to try it?”

“No.” Chickadee was frank with his response. Tyrtain was one thing, but the majority of the siblings were morons that were best left alone.

Duxton closed his eyes for a moment. “A shame.” He placed the sword back into the scabbard. “I’ve heard word that the King’s Court will soon summon me. They plan to strip me of my titles and exile me from the city.”

Chickadee stared at him blankly.

“I would appreciate it if you attempted to give me an ounce of sympathy,” muttered Duxton.

“I don’t like you,” replied Chickadee.

A long, pained sigh left Duxton’s lips. “I plan to hold a coup on that day. My allies and I will be presenting the crimes of the King’s court and will dismantle them before they can do anything to harm my position as crown prince.”

“I’m not your ally.”

“Regardless of how you count yourself, I can tell you that Sybil acted out because she desires the death of Laurent Aconite. Unfortunately, that person’s life is rather important to me because of ill logistics.” Duxton’s hands twirled about the air as he struggled to word it in a way for Chickadee to understand. “Laws, evidence, and leadership. It’s a bothersome but necessary evil.

I am truthful when I say that you can still be of great benefit to Sybil. There is a target who truly deserves her bloodlust.” He gestured between the two of them. “A creature named Neryx has hoarded themselves up in the palace. You are my best choice to act as my executioner and end their existence.”

Chickadee’s eyes drifted to the sword on Duxton’s belt. He pointed to it. “Liar.”

“I’ll have you know that-” Duxton was interrupted by Chickadee holding up his hand again.

“Someone coming.”

The building may have been mostly wood, but there were still bricks holding up the foundation. Chickadee had been monitoring the comings and goings of anyone entering the building. He didn’t want an assassin showing up to Kogin’s door. Being a forced occupant within his residence was troublesome enough.

It was common for people in Fogbloom to carry a knife on them, but this person had a larger piece of metal on them. Chickadee covered his hands with his ears. Stones whispered clearly but bricks could only slowly slur their words together. He was having trouble getting a clear picture.

“... Udell,” grumbled Chickadee.

Duxton’s defensive stance relaxed into a confident one. “I left him a note saying that I was coming here.”

The news wasn’t well-received by Chickadee. A hiding spot wasn’t a hiding spot if everyone knew about it. He moved to the door and waited for Udell to knock before opening it. Having grown bored of the minute it took Udell to ascend the stairs, Duxton had opted to raid the pantry and was now pouring himself a drink.

Udell walked in and glanced around. He had a hand on his hip, reading to pull his chains at the first sign of trouble. Duxton scoffed at the display. Although his subordinate was loyal, he was by far the most uptight and cautious one he had ever employed.

“Where is your manservant?” Duxton asked as he sat down on the sofa. He had a shallow glass of gin in his hand.

“Still looking for Blue,” replied Udell.

“Apparently locked up in the palace.” Duxton took a sip of the drink and immediately winced. It was far more pleasant than he expected it to be. The owner of this place didn’t seem particularly well off and he felt a bit guilty for pinching a taste of what Kogin might consider to be high luxury.

Udell stared at him for a moment. His gaze was firmly locked onto the sword. “I’ll make him aware of that.”

Duxton unhooked the scabbard from his belt and leaned it against the side of the couch. “Miss Cully stole this from the barracks. Her wisdom told her to gift it to me today.” He ignored the glare that Chickadee shot at Fairy. “I’ve chosen to distance myself from the Arbutus family.

There will be ample opportunity to use Zaniyah as a bargaining chip against me. I will not be contacting them again until after she has left the city. I am also giving you full authority over the escape account. Take what you need and rent an apartment in the area. I will need a place to stay until after the King’s Court meeting.

My sources are busy gathering the information we need. It won’t be long until I have enough evidence to prove that they either supported the Southern War or prolonged the Would-Be War. There will be no King’s Court by the end of next week.”

Udell remained standing. “Who are your sources?”

“Eyes and ears within the palace,” replied Duxton.

Perhaps the staff members. They were often treated as faceless entities who maintained the palace. Since they were often disrespected, few were loyal to their masters. It had become easy to bribe them for information about the palace.

Dismantling the Court was always a priority. Udell didn’t care who had a hand in it, as long as it was done. “When will you be writing to the dukes?” Asked Udell.

The Dukes of Lustro had the authority to nominate a king in the event of a fight over the throne. This was how Thomas Aconite became king. They also had the power to strip the authority of the King’s Court. Duxton was their likely candidate, however, it would take a week or longer to hear from either the Gilded or Crimson Dukes.

“I will send out my letters today. They will agree that a formal meeting is needed. We’ll arrange for one after we have concluded the war. I will take my crown then.” Duxton sipped the last of his gin and placed the glass on the side table.

One bothersome event was leading to another Udell frowned to himself. “Have you changed your mind about assassinating King Howell?” He didn’t look forward to being executed for attempted regicide.

“No,” replied Duxton. “I’ve lost any reason to.”

Udell shook his head. “The wise decision would be to follow through with the escape plan. We have no assurances as to when this war will end.”

The last resort plan was to escape Fogbloom and take control of the military in the east. Duxton had the connections and he had Rosethorn. They had the weapons they needed to kill the would-be and destroy their beasts. Afterward, Duxton would return to Fogbloom as a hero who was fully backed by the Dukes. As long as he had their support, it didn’t matter which way Elbellziara voted.

“There isn’t enough time,” muttered Duxton.

Udell remained firm in his opinion. “We will make the time.”

Duxton stood up. His sternum was throbbing with pain, but he refused to flinch. “There isn’t time, Udell. My grandfather is already dead. They have a would-be in their possession, along with the sword of Bellia and Eatha’s blood iron. Amalfrieda has been sent out to hunt down Mart’s body. It will not be long until they have a new god in their possession and they will champion their new religion by using that god to end the war.

Viokern’s crown will have been paid for in full by blood. We barely have the resources to fight back. My best hands and feet are you, your manservant, and him.” He pointed at Chickadee, who gave a subtle shake of denial with his head “Either we take control of the palace on the day of my trial, or we lose everything.”