The Golden City was deeply cosmopolitan, offering the full variety of food and diversions popular throughout the Empire. No matter what clan one belonged to, what world one hailed from, you could find familiar bits of home somewhere in the city.

This stable on the southern outskirts was distinctly Griffon flavored. Painted in bright colors, decorated in bits of glass and mirror that glittered in the sun, it looked more suited to a children’s carousel than a place to find real horses.

But this was undeniably the place he’d been directed to, told to come dressed for riding. Yeijiro had simply come wearing his uniform. It was as suited to riding as it was to anything else, and it wasn’t as though he kept a closet full of riding habits.

Thankfully, he’d been taught to ride as part of his marshal training. Even if it had been a few years, he was fairly certain he could keep from embarrassing himself. Otherwise he might have had to decline this invitation, and he was far too curious to want to do that.

His host was already here, waiting at the entrance to the stable. “Marshal Miyōshi,” he said offering a bow.

Which Yeijiro returned. “My lord ambassador.”

Hamilton straightened, his every movement seeming to sweep. It was an illusion furthered by the wide spreading feathers of his mask, by the loose swing of his bright beaded coat. Hamilton might be the most Griffon-looking Serpent Yeijiro had ever seen. How much of that was calculated? How much was genuine?

“I’m so glad you were able to join me.”

“Thank you for the invitation.”

The message had been brief, a simple introduction—as though Yeijiro would not have recognized one of the most prominent people in the clan—and the details of Hamilton’s proposed outing. He’d given Yeijiro no hint of why, of what had put him on Hamilton’s radar.

Two horses were already saddled and waiting. One, a showy black who watched them approach with restless ears and head held high. The other was a quieter-looking gray. Thankfully, Hamilton reached for the reins of the black and the groom passed the gray to Yeijiro. Hamilton swung into the saddle with the grace of long practice. Yeijiro simply aimed to not fall off the other side. He succeeded.

This stable sat on the edge of one of the Imperial parks that covered most of the land surrounding the Golden City. The stable exit opened directly onto one of the wide, branching trails that led deeper into the park. The sun was out and a breeze was blowing. It promised to be a pleasant ride.

Hamilton’s horse pranced into a canter, and Yeijiro was happy when his own mount seemed inclined to follow without a lot of direction from Yeijiro. It was also helpful that Hamilton didn’t seem immediately inclined to talk. Yeijiro could concentrate on keeping his balance and finding a comfortable seat.

After they’d ridden about ten minutes, Hamilton slowed their pace and turned them off the trail, towards a rise of sharp hills that Yeijiro knew—from having read several brochures about this area—were popular for their waterfalls.

“I used to come here all the time when I was young,” Hamilton said reining in so his and Yeijiro’s horses were now walking side-by-side. “My lord mother would get caught up at the palace, and leave me to entertain myself. I didn’t know how to ride then, but I must have explored every inch of this park on foot.”

If this had been a conversation in court, if Hamilton had been the Griffon he dressed as—or Swan, or Dragon—Yeijiro would have struggled to find some parallel anecdote of his own childhood. Something neutral to communicate he had heard, and to move the conversation along.

Because Hamilton was a fellow Serpent, Yeijiro could remain silent without worrying Hamilton would think he wasn’t listening. There was no need to provide aimless small talk.

“Sometimes the Lords Suri would be attending the Emperor’s court at the same time as my mother. Vin and Dev were as bored as I was, so we’d come here and all run around together. Often Lord Julian would join us. The four of us spent quite a lot of time together in those days.”

There was a wistfulness on Hamilton’s face that Yeijiro was willing to believe might be genuine. He also hadn’t missed that Hamilton had called Vin by name and suspected it was as meaningful when Hamilton used Vin’s name as when Tōru didn’t.

“Roderich tells me you’re friends with Vin.”

A part of Yeijiro’s mind was cataloging names. The Lord Marshal was simply Roderich, but Julian was Lord Julian. A map was forming in the file-system of Yeijiro’s brain, organizing Hamilton’s connections to people for future reference. This was an easy and automatic process, as conscious as breathing.

The rest of his mental space was devoted to figuring out just how much to tell Hamilton and wondering why Hamilton was having this conversation with him at all. “He was one of the first people I met when I first arrived at the Golden Palace. We’ve become friends, yes.”

“He and I had dinner last night. I’m not sure that it went well.”

Yeijiro wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Fortunately, he didn’t have to. Hamilton moved the conversation onto easier ground, asking about Yeijiro himself, how he enjoyed living in the Golden City, what he liked best about being a marshal.

Talking to Hamilton was easy. He effortlessly kept the conversation moving, shared enough of his own observations to keep it from feeling like an interrogation. Still, Yeijiro understood what was happening. Hamilton was sizing him up. The only thing Yeijiro wasn’t sure about was whether this was about Serpent politics, the game of the court, or simply Hamilton trying to get a better feel for Vin’s new friend. Perhaps it was all three.

While Yeijiro wasn’t foolish enough to believe he was seeing anything of Hamilton beyond what Hamilton wanted him to see, that view was interesting enough. He seemed friendly, open—a perfect persona for an ambassador. It was very much at odds with what people expected of a Serpent, and that was useful as well. Time spent with Hamilton was its own lesson.

That thought prompted the next—what did Tōru think of Oshiro Hamilton?

Hamilton’s study of Yeijiro meant that he noticed when Yeijiro started to shift uncomfortably in his saddle, feeling the beginning of soreness, and he turned them back towards the stable.

“Thank you for keeping me company,” Hamilton said as the end of their ride came into sight. “It’s been a—” He stopped, frowning, which was when Yeijiro noticed the masked Serpent in the uniform of one of the Oshiro house guards waiting.

“Lord Hamilton.” The guard gave a quick bow. He ignored Yeijiro. “There is a situation of which you need to be made aware. Communication with the Griffon flagship has been lost. The ship has gone missing.”

Hamilton tensed, causing his horse to sidestep. “The Lords Suri?”

“Were aboard.”

Hamilton had nothing more for the guard, or for Yeijiro. He heeled his horse into a gallop, riding fast as he could for the palace.