The young knight guarding the south wing of the Kesrockian Knight’s headquarters informs Kyros that, "Captain Stelias is busy in her office, and is not to be disturbed by any visitors."

“I’m not a visitor,” Kyros tells the knight - a boy, really - and has to mentally backtrack to make sure he really did just have to explain that. “I am a Gate Knight, if you can’t already tell by the armor." He gestures to himself. "And the weapon. And the sigil oh I don’t have time for this.” He tries to push his way past, but the knight slams the end of his spear hard on the ground.

“Captain Stelias is busy with civil duties and wishes not to be disturbed unless it is an absolute emergency,” he repeats with such authority it almost surprises Kyros. Almost. “If you wish to have an audience with her, then fill out this form with your name and details.” The young knight reaches over to the wall, where a clipboard and quill sit on a low shelf. “Here, I’ll do it for you. Name?”

Kyros stifles a sigh. “Master Letmein, of the faraway lands of Thisajoke," he says, then watches in amazement as the young knight scribbles the nonsense down without question.

The boy is part of the new recruits who recently graduated in spring, this Kyros can tell by the bronze griffon insignia fastened to the young knight’s chest plate, waxed with such a meticulous sheen Kyros can see his face reflecting in it. But still, damn if he is going to file any paperwork to see someone he’s visited here regularly for the last three years, since the first day of her promotion.

“If you're trying to impress the captain, I suggest you start by reading a few maps,” Kyros says lightly, trying to chip away at that wall of forced professionalism, but the knight ignores him as he finishes writing down Kyros’s details.

“Thi… sajo… ke. Okay. Reason for requesting an audience with the Captain?”

“Really?” Kyros doesn't know whether to be impressed at the knight’s enthusiastic work ethic, or annoyed. “Look, friend,” he says as patiently as he possibly can, “I will fill out whatever paper you want later, but right now, we need the Captain at the gate.” Of course, Kyros doesn’t really think that the situation is that serious, but the thought of Sir Jernal’s big hunk of a body shadowing over the gold-haired girl makes him anxious, though he does not want to stop and question why.

The young knight seems to ponder this for a good while. “I see," he says. "In that case, please wait here while I go and inform the Captain. I cannot promise that she will-”

“Oh, for Nranhana’s sake.” Kyros leans over and aims his voice over the knight’s shoulder. “We haven’t got time for this! There is a suspicious individual at the South Gate who might be a Jinyu spy, or even a Blood Devil. Sir Jernal is currently confronting her, and a fight could be happening at any moment!”

From further down the hallway, a door swings open, and Cathra Stelias bursts out with a stack of papers under one arm, a cape draped across the other. She marches towards Kyros and the boy knight, the heels of her boots clicking against the tiles. From where he is, Kyros can see that the captain's hair is tied up in its usual tight bun, secured by a long silver needle with a ribbon at the end. But as she gets close, Kyros notices that many strands of her black hair have escaped from their binds, the way they do when she's been working through the night.

“Captain Stelias!” the young knight exclaims, standing to attention. He barely has time to react when Cathra flings the stack of papers into his arms.

“Run these to Captain Maydan,” she orders, and when the knight stares at her confused, says, “the West Gate Captain.”

“I k-know,” stammers the knight, “but, Captain, I can’t leave my p-post. It’s against the rules.”

“Not if I’m officially giving you permission to go,” Cathra answers, swinging her cape around her shoulders and fastening their ends to her sleek shoulder pads. “If anyone tries to stop you, tell them to shove it up their asses.” She pauses to give the horrified knight a smirk. “And then tell them to look up section 12b of the Knight’s Handbook, under the title of ‘exemptions’.”

The young knight looks between the papers and his captain, then the papers again, probably calculating his chances of survival between leaving his post, and refusing to. In the end, a stern clearing of Captain Stelias’s throat is all he needs to come to a decision.

“As you wish, captain,” the knight says with a salute. Then he scuttles away, hobbling in his armor.

Cathra waits until the boy is out of sight before turning to address Kyros. “You’re here to bail me out, right?”

Kyros pulls up his helm to show her a smile. “You look like you need a break.”

“I do," says Cathra, already walking past him. "But I’m going to need a better excuse than that. I've got three names on that clipboard, all written before yours.”

“And to think,” Kyros grumbles, following, "that I had hoped we could get an ale after this."

As they walk, Kyros studies the hard lines of exhaustion on Cathra’s face, and feels a deep, conflicting sadness in his heart. Three years ago, when he learned she was coming back to Kesrock, after nearly a decade away, it was like his prayers were answered. But seeing Cathra like this, watching the sparkle in her grey eyes dim year after year, Kyros cannot help but feel selfish for wanting her back, as if her returning is his fault. Though, of course, he'll never tell Cathra this.

“It's an endless stream of incident reports,” Cathra confides to Kyros as they head down the corridors towards the main entrance. “And not about anything serious either, just lost animals and purse-snatchers. But the worst part is, I don't even get to solve any of these problems. I just write about them.” She sighs, massaging her temples. “I often find myself these days wishing I could go back to being an Outrider Knight. Camping out in the wilds, cutting down monsters left and right, scouting for enemies… Aah, those were the days.”

In all the years he has known Cathra, Kyros does not know her to be one for reminiscing, and it takes him off guard. “I’m... sorry Cathra,” he says with a grimace, “but I’m afraid I didn't call you from your office for no reason. I wasn't lying about Sir Jernal and the girl.”

Cathra gives Kyros a look, but shrugs. “Eh, it's fine. I’ll take any opportunity for some fresh air right now.” She yawns, and stretches her arms over her head. “Let’s just hope he makes a mess of things so I’ll get to be outside for longer.”

The sunlight is bright and cheery as Kyros and Cathra exit the headquarters. As they descend the long flight of polished granite stairs, Kyros spots an all too familiar bald head heading up.

“Incoming asshole alert,” he whispers under his breath. He glances at Cathra, but the woman gives no sign she’s heard him.

They meet in the middle. Cathra stops first, giving the bald man a typical Kesrockian Knight’s salute; one hand placed over the heart, the other behind the back. “Captain Maydan,” she says pleasantly, “What a lovely day to run into you. I was just sending some documents over to your office.”

The man stops, looks up, and squints at Cathra for a long moment, as if not recognizing her. His beady eyes drag along Cathra’s body, from head to toe then back up again, before he finally offers a half-hearted wave. “Oh, Stelias, my lady,” he says with a slur to his words. “My sincerest of apologies, I was out, performing,” he pauses to stifle a burp, “civil duties.”

Even from where he is standing, Kyros can smell the reek of alcohol coming from the West Gate Captain. He doesn’t want to, but he salutes as well. “Captain Maydan, good day.”

The man completely ignores him. “Why don’t you come to my office, Stelias?” he asks in the direction of Cathra’s chest. “We can talk about these documents over a nice cup of milkland tea. I had a batch come directly from across the Isles, only a month ago. You can still taste the freshness of spring in them! It would fancy me to no end if I could hear your opinion on them.” He smiles crookedly at Cathra, showing off a chip in one of his front teeth, and Kyros immediately feels his stomach flare with anger. It is clear as day why this man is inviting Cathra over to his office, and it is not so that they can go over paperwork that he probably shoved onto her in the first place.

Kyros sneaks a glance over at Cathra, and to his surprise, sees her bowing slightly and saying with the sweetest of smiles, “I am terribly sorry, Captain Maydan, but I happen to have some civil duties of my own that I must attend to. I’ve sent a knight over with the documents. He is a young lad, very enthusiastic with his post, and last I spoke with him, had his own little collection of teas back at home. I’m sure he would just love to learn something from an esteemed and knowledgeable enthusiast like you.”

For the second time this morning, Kyros is grateful for his helm, hiding his expression.

Captain Maydan huffs, and pushes past Cathra. “Alright, go on then,” he mutters with another half-wave. “I’ll save it for you next time. But you should know, Stelias, teas from the Shaazaw Isles do not age well.”

Kyros watches in silence as the captain of the west gate totters up the stairs like a man with all the time in the world.

“What a drunk asshole…” He turns to talk to Cathra, but she’s already walking away.

When Kyros catches up to her at the bottom of the stairs, Cathra speaks first. “Did you know that every Royal Swordsmen had a squire assigned specifically to them?”

Kyros does know. He spent weeks researching everything about the King’s personal guards the day after Cathra left to be one. But that’s not what Cathra is asking.

“Did you have one too?” he asks her.

“I did.”

“Makes you wish you have one now, huh.”

“Sure does. I’d have him sit in my office while I ran his errands.”

They both laugh at that, not because it is an absurd image, but because it’s true.

The Kesrockian Knight’s headquarters is a flat, squarish building surrounded by a deep moat and spacious courtyards. The idea behind such a design, is that all four sides should be the same, to reflect the equal importance of the four gates of the city. This also means that, for ease of transportation, four bridges were built across the moat, one for every side of the building, with a stable by each.

Except, somehow, all four stables are out of horses. But when asked about it, the stable boy shrugs and says simply, “The Lord Commander has returned.”

“That explains nothing,” says Cathra. “Is he patrolling the gates with a legion of slimes? Has a tourney been happening while I was inside?”

The stable boy frowns. “Slimes can’t ride horses, captain.”

Cathra blinks. “They… you are correct.” She asks Kyros, “Where did you leave your horse?”

Kyros points to one of the empty stalls.

“I guess I was looking forward to the fresh air," Cathra says with a laugh. "I suppose we're walking.” She starts down the courtyard towards the bridge in the direction of the south gate, but the sound of hooves stops her.

A figure rides into view, galloping across the bridge to stop in front of Cathra.

“Captain,” the rider says, dismounting. “The Lord Commander has sent me with a message.” He pulls out the seal of the Lord Commander.

“I don’t need to see it,” Cathra says, waving it away. “Just tell me the message.”

The rider nods. “His Lordship wishes to have a word with you later today. You are to stay put in your office and await his arrival.” He goes to hand his reigns to the stable boy, but Cathra intercepts.

“If he’s coming to me," the captain says, taking the horse, "then he can wait until I come back.” She tugs on the saddle to make sure it is secure, and then mounts swiftly, sweeping a long leg over Kyros's head.

The rider seems at a loss for words. “I’m sorry, captain? Tell the Lord Commander to… wait?”

“You don’t have to do anything,” she tells him, scooting forward in the saddle. “Your job is to deliver a message to me. You’ve done that, now go take a break. Are you coming or not, Sir Gate Knight?”

Kyros startles into action, climbing up and seating himself behind Cathra. The horse gives a whine of protest at the added weight, but at Cathra’s command, it breaks into a trot.

Once they're on the bridge and have left the headquarters behind, Kyros leans closer to Cathra, careful not to hold her too tightly, and asks in her ear so he can be heard over the horse's trotting hooves, "Are you sure you want to leave the Lord Commander waiting, Cathra? I heard rumors that you can get sent to the Battlefront for even the smallest misgivings these days."

He can feel Cathra's laughter, shaking up through his arms. "Who did you hear those rumors from?"

"Sir Jernal."

"And who, Kyros, do you think a man like Sir Jernal gets his rumors from?"

For the rest of the ride, Kyros is silent, thinking.