Tekole sat on a bed in a dark room, face sunken into his hands. He had been this close to dying. This close! And now he wasn’t, just like that. All he had to do was agree.

Him and Kajulan had been shuffled off to different rooms, something that abandoned hotels conveniently had a lot of. Tekole started to chuckle, the whole force of what had just happened finally striking him. Just two days ago he was a factory hand, and now he was part of a criminal mob. At least he thought he was. He still wasn’t fully sure what Jethin actually wanted from him.

Tekole’s hands were still clasped to his face when he heard the door to the room open. He pivoted excitedly

“Kajulan!?” he exclaimed.

“Not Kajulan. Just Ladun.”

“Oh,” replied Tekole, shoulders sinking as he lost the energy he had just gained.

“No need to sound so disappointed,” said the short man, as he took a seat on the bed beside Tekole. “She’s fine, by the way.”

“Huh?”

“Kajulan,” repeated Ladun, somewhat taken aback by Tekole’s confusion. “She’s fine.”

Tekole turned his head, slightly blushing in the darkness. “I just kind of figured that if I was somehow still alive after all that, she definitely was.”

Ladun nodded. “You two have had a crazy couple of days, haven’t you? Successful outlaws one day, at gunpoint the next.”

Tekole nodded, chuckling once again “Yeah. Honestly, I’m still trying to fully piece together how I ended up here.” Suddenly, he snapped to attention. “Wait a minute! Gunpoint! That was you! You were going to shoot me like ten minutes ago!”

Ladun put his hands up in an apologetic manner. “Yeah, yeah. Listen, that’s just part of the job. Sometimes you have to shoot people. I wouldn’t shoot you now, though.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Okay,” said Ladun, nodding his head. “You’re probably right. But I’m like, this close, to not being willing to shoot you. Just give it some time.”

Ladun reached beside him, grabbing that statue of the Carver and handing it to Tekole. “I actually came to give this back to you. I figured that someone must have some real sentimental attachment to carry around the religious idol of a faith they don’t follow.”

Tekole took the statue. “Oh, thank you.”

Ladun continued to sit on the bed in awkward silence for a moment, before hopping off it, springs creaking as he did so. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll see you again in the morning. And don’t sleep too late. Not tonight. You do not want to keep Jethin waiting. Trust me.” He began to head toward the doorway, before swinging around to face Tekole again. “One more thing. What’s your suit size?”

Tekole cocked his head in thought. “I don’t actually know. I don’t think I’ve worn a suit before.”

Ladun squinted at him. “Eh, I’ll just eyeball it.”

…

Tekole entered the lobby the next day to find Kajulan already awake, wearing a black suit that was much too big for her, and seated at a table in the middle of the room, empty save for a single platter of fruit in the middle. Kajulan beckoned for Tekole to come over.

“Someone likes sleeping in.” She gave Tekole a quick punch on the arm and a toothy grin.

“Well, I didn’t exactly have an easy time falling asleep last night,” Tekole replied. “How are you not freaking out?”

Kajulan giggled, before leaning back in her chair and throwing her feet up on the table.

“Hey, I’ve been in worse situations. I’ve actually been shot, remember? Last night was just almost being shot. Leagues apart.”

Tekole sat down, leaning forward and putting his chin in his hand. “Really? So you have no qualms about working for this Jethin guy?”

“Pfffffft! No! This thing’s not going to stick. We’ll be free agents again in a few days, tops.”

“Oh really!” boomed Jethin as he entered the room, his timing too perfect to be coincidence. He was dressed much differently than he was when Kajulan and Tekole had first seen him. He was wearing a suit, similar to the ones the two of them now wore, although quite a bit better fitted than Kajulan’s, and complete with hat and tails. He was flanked on either side by who seemed to be bodyguards, wearing the long robes of Tajlynd, chain hauberks jingling beneath their clothing and axe fastened to one side, revolver to the other.

“I guess we’ll have to wait and see,” Jethin continued. He stewed for a moment, before running up to the table and hopping on top of it, grabbing a piece of citrus from the plate. “But I think you’ll soon find your confidence unwarranted.” He took a bite of the fruit, rind and all, and almost immediately spit it out.

“Ug!” he said, face contorting. “I could’ve sworn I saw someone do that once. Maybe it was a different fruit.” He motioned to one of his bodyguards, who immediately stood at attention. “You. Grab me something to drink. Disgusting.”

The bodyguard left to do as he was told, as Jethin got off the table. “Sorry about that, you two. I like to make a strong first impression on the new recruits.”

“Technically, you met us yesterday, sir,” began Tekole, before Kajulan elbowed him. She gave him a stern look, one that admonished him both for speaking up unnecessarily and for referring to Jethin as sir. Or at least, that was what it was supposed to do. There’s only so much one can say with a single facial expression.

Jethin shook his head, disregarding what Tekole had just said. “That wasn’t proper. I was deciding whether I wanted to kill you or hire you last night. Today is different. Today is homage.”

Jethin lifted his black coat slightly, revealing a long knife that knife nut Kajulan recognized as a seax, another symbol of the Southern island that Jethin supposedly hailed from. He drew it, the blade glinting even in the gloomy lighting of the derelict building.

“Come closer,” he ordered, and Kajulan and Tekole obeyed, if not for his sake then for the sake of the armed bodyguards behind him.

“Kneel,” he continued, and the two did so. He thrust forward with the knife, barely missing Kajulan’s neck, and brushed it against her neck, just gently enough to not draw blood. Her neck stung at the coldness of the blade, before Jethin repeated the process with Tekole, who noticeably shivered as the blade touched his neck. Jethin pressed the blade to his own forehead and then sheathed it. He stood silent a moment, staring up at the sky as if in prayer, before reaching out, placing one hand on Kajulan’s shoulder, and the other on Tekole’s.

“With this ceremony, you are welcomed into this house, recognized vassals of my kingdom, if you will. Never forget the oath you made last night to serve me. You are protected, free to profit from our activities, but you will always answer to your head of house, which will always be me. You will show me the loyalty and respect I deserve. And I am honest enough to admit that I deserve quite a bit. Do you understand?”

Before either had a chance to respond, something that was clearly starting to become a trend with Jethin, he leaned forward, placing a brisk kiss on each’s forehead. He stood up straight, and motioned for them to stand.

“Ladun is waiting for you at the entrance,” Jethin said, already turning to leave. “His operation’s been getting a bit too big for him to handle with just that big guy for help. Also, he was the one responsible for speedily apprehending the two of you, so I figure he deserves the extra hands.”

The two started to leave, but Jethin quickly stopped Kajulan, swinging back around and placing a hand on her shoulder. “Take this,” he said, as he took off his hat and placed it on Kajulan’s head. Judging by how well done his hair was, it seemed doubtful that he ever had any intention of keeping said hat. “Your hair is much too short. Can’t have my people looking like ruffians.”

Kajulan scowled as Jethin left the room, his smirk somehow evident even from behind.