Fate for many is a funny thing you see. That’s because it’s pure superstition until the stars somehow align and you’re King that is.

Overheard in a speakeasy

Navigating through the room always felt like a challenge, a sea of obstacles that had to be traversed with. The agony, the self-inflicted stress.

Why was my room always this messy? No surprise Ona complains a lot. Although to be honest most of the parchments, books and letters scattered on the floor were remnants of older tasks I had to ultimately action. Unfortunately, the backlog never ends.

My eyes shifted at the opening door where Ona, followed by two youngsters dressed head to toe in yellow gowns walked in.

Speak of the devil. Dear me, did the uniforms always look this bad? They remind me of young ducklings. Note to self: place a request for the uniforms to be revamped.

“Your highness, the interns have arrived. Ygrit and Rowan. Greet your supreme leader.”

Her boot kicked the floor, and her hand was raised in a salute. Although powerful, the after effect resulted in complete, awkward silence.

“What…what in the world are you doing?”

“What? I thought that would rub your ego. You know, showing off before the newcomers? Asserting your authority? All that good leadership stuff”.

Her hands waved haphazardly alongside her odd grimaces. Meanwhile, I couldn’t help but wish the earth opened and swallowed me whole.

I sometimes simply can’t understand her. What exactly is wrong with her?

“Ona, you do realise that the interns, including myself, are jus… never mind. Ygrit, Rowan, welcome. Please ignore Ona’s remarks, ideally forever.”

“Y-your highness it’s an honour! Thank you for letting us work alongside you. We will make you proud.”

Rowan’s eager side revealed itself. He fell to his knees as if he paid homage to one of the great sages of old.

“Rowan, your manners! Your highness, please forgive my friend, it’s his first time being assigned to such a high-profile courtier. He..he is not quite to grasp with reality yet.

“I-I see. Yes, right. I understand. Moving on. Thank you, Rowan, Ygrit. Let's start with housekeeping. We will be departing at daybreak. The duration of the assignment is expected anywhere between six months to a whole year. Our aim is to review treasury accounts in line with the council’s request. I would have thought that given the gravity of the matter, they would have sent more a few more…helpers, but anyways. Questions?”

Rowan’s sparkling eyes overflowed with excitement; in contrast, Ygrit’s face was serious, the kind of seriousness one would encounter in a life-threatening situation. Meanwhile, Ona’s laidback attitude stuck out like a shore thumb whilst she yawned throughout the briefing spoke miles about the chances of the project even succeeding.

I beg for forgiveness Mother. I better start visiting the Chapel again, perhaps confessing to the bishop would reshuffle the terrible deck of cards fate has played for me.

“None? Well, great. Get on with your preparations.”

With a mere hand gesture from Ona, they were both dismissed. As for me, sighing would have been a pure waste of breath.

This is nuts. They are both newcomers into the section and yet the court thinks it’s okay to dispatch an inquiry with only one official assisted by two junior inspectors to conduct a year-long audit on a potential traitor to the crown? Absolutely flabbergasting.

Left with no choice but to turn my attention to my trustworthy aide who delighted in my misery.

“Ona, what is your take on this? Something smells awfully fishy.”

“Looking at the state of the room and including yourself, I wouldn’t be surprised if that stench came from you, your highness.”

“You dare?! I showered last night.”

Preposterous, the guts this girl has sometimes.

“Apologies your highness, I am not accustomed to the high society, and so my manners slipped. How clumsy of me.”

“Your brain is what slipped into the gutter. Now focus…”

With a shrug, Ona began her long-winded talk whilst she tiptoed past the books.

“Very well, as you may be aware you have accused of if not, the most popular and generous donor to the council for embezzlement. Instead of poking the hornet’s nest, you decided to dive headfirst. To that I say congratulations, you really outdid yourself. One doesn’t have to be a genius to conclude that your actions have made someone very, very angry.”

Stopping her hopping, she leaned over and grabbed a dusty book. She blew the dust off and opened the cover.

"I like this book - The Robber Barons, a hefty title. Wasn't this book about the high judge that gets somehow involved in a trial about embezzlement, and they die? Wow, what timing!"

"No. Yes, well, but no. He doesn't fully die. Anyways, that's beside the point! Also, while I do admit I may have bit on more than I can chew, it doesn't mean I will choke."

Ona harumphed at my comment, clearly unmoved.

"Spoiler alert the protagonist does end up on death row. You know, only a few months after the case is brought up. The only difference between you and him is your status. That's what we call that privilege. If it were me, or any of the two greenhorns that showed up today then I guarantee you they wouldn’t even stand in the trial.”

Her comment cut like a hot knife in butter. It stung, but it wasn't something I could have denied.

Ona’s perception of all the courtiers and the nobles are truly right up there next to a dumpster. I mean, I don't blame her but there's little I can do about this. Or perhaps I can...well that's another can of worms for another day.

“We digress, and to add on top it is paramount we take precautions against what the system will throw at us. With that in mind, I believe it would be a good idea to hire a mercenary band to complement the guard detachment the court will dispatch. I do have my suspicions."

The draw was pulled open which revealed a golden framed strongbox. The sturdy and trusty box was my personal vault, and a tiny silver key used to unlock it was attached to the chain around my neck. A series of pouches came to appearance, of which a medium-sized pouch was chosen and tossed towards Ona's direction.

"That should be plenty. Remember no haggling, no newbies. Some experience in bodyguarding would be ideal."

“Very well, I will look into it. Oh, before I forget, any specific preference? Young, old? Male, female, non-human? Pointy ears?”

“I am looking for guards, not a consort.”

“Your highness you as if anyone would marry you although, it is great to be optimistic.”

Another set of daggers pierced my heart. A cough escaped.

“Why must you be so cruel?! Also, by the looks of it, you and I will be celibate forever. In fact, I am close to becoming a grand wizard and I am certain you’re up next!"

“Ha ha. I hope my laugh doesn’t seem sarcastic because it really is. In fact, you're the only virgin around here.”

“O-o-kay we are derailing from the core subject. We have work to do, and by we, I mean I have work to do. Go be useful, use that glib tongue of yours to hire mercenaries.”

“Okay, okay. Whatever, Kain.”

Ona’s departure was swift and without much noise and the room had finally returned to a state of peace that I really yearned for. Peace and quiet accompanied by the sweet spring sun and followed by a gentle spring breeze flowing through the windows. Books, letters and parchments were scattered all over in complete chaos. Works of art that had no connection hung around the walls. This mess, this chaos was my sanctuary.

Oh, how I wish I could just live like this. Perhaps I should just buy some land in the far east. The rivers there flow calmly, the cherry trees bloom, and most importantly the people never bother you. Why bother dealing with stubborn, thick incompetent people? Why?

An extended sigh released the heavy air from my lungs. Time was running, the hourglass from my desk showed every second go by until the sands of time exist no more.

Right, the journey. That needs to be planned as well.

The real reason as to why my desk was immaculate was in fact the map etched on top. And this wasn’t just any kind of map that you could find yourself in the surveyor ateliers. No, this piece of parchment was perhaps the most detailed map of the kingdom. A treasure I had dearly paid for.

The texture and detail on it were top notch. The artwork was a personal favourite however, it just never ceased to amaze me. Across a vast coastline, somewhere in the middle where the mouth of the largest river adjourned and flowed into the vast oceans, a white palace surrounded by cyclopean walls was etched. That was the capital of Endelheim, Sanctum. Its position was extremely convenient both geographically and economically, meaning it was transformed into one of the major hubs of the continent for commerce both inland and the sea. From the city of Sanctum, an intricate web of roads extended outwards connecting the key towns and cities allowing trade, and armies to move but at a moment’s notice.

Quite frankly Endelheim was considered second-tier in terms of hard power. Our positioning was not of immense strategic importance which meant the big boys had the chance to play somewhere else, whilst we had time to focus on matters such as infrastructure, trade, and commerce. Of course, like every Kingdom, the military complex was the darling of the council, but it was to the point where it was sufficient to deter any foreign invasions. In other words, as good as other powers would allow us to be.

Instead, the people of Endelheim heavily leveraged the geographical advantage - the narrow paths, the swamps and the mountain ranges which acted as physical barriers to our adversaries. Understanding the topology was essential, and this was precisely why I considered maps as essential. Plus, it really helped when you had a clear understanding of what natural resources were around in the continent. That knowledge was essential for effective policy, and that was precisely where Endelheim had the advantage.

My finger moved along the horizon line towards the distant south. Beyond the wide fertile valleys and dense forests, carving through the main mountain pass. There another fortress was erect - the Ogrim Citadel was a fortress carved into stone and acted as the main point of defence for any daring invaders. In fact, the Margrave’s territory was a specially administered region set up beyond the citadel and acted as a frontier to the wilderness. To consolidate control of the region, a series of towns and forts had to be established to public order and most importantly harvest the natural resources – diorite, silver, and timber, which were extremely lucrative. Unfortunately, when the Margrave arrived in the lands, the native population was particularly pleased by our arrival. Following a little brawl, an agreement was sealed and a substantial military presence was stationed to uphold the peace in the region. Hence why substantial funding was required, and this is where I came into the play. The funds kept funnelling to unknown locations, and much-needed projects had fallen into disarray.

On our last trip, we stayed over at the Dryad’s Arms and The Peddler & Peacock. These two are well situated and are frequented by crown officials and mercenaries alike. This should at least act as a deterrent for any troublemakers.

The two names were imprinted on the mini journal. A small pouch with three coins was drawn next to it. One coin meant super cheap, i.e. no problem, whereas three coins meant I would have to have soup for a week to cover the costs.

There will be three carriages in total, one would consist solely of the archives of accounts and other storage requirements. The other two will be reserved for staff. On our arrival at the city of Blackrock, the city hall would have accommodation prepared for us meaning I only have to worry about the journey to and fro, plus covering salaries for the duration.

In conclusion, accounting for the lodging expenses, rations, stable service, and an emergency fund for fifteen members means an average of one Pentari per visit. The wages for the staff will equate to fifteen Dekari and five Pentari, for the month; or ninety Dekari and thirty Pentari for the six-month period. This will put a very nice dent in the department’s budget, especially as the court so generously restricted my yearly allowance to only one hundred fifty Dekari. How incredibly frustrating.

Pencil crunching, coin counting and miserably sighing at the dim outlook of the expedition.

I should have let Ona and the interns do all the planning, but then again if they messed up, I would feel guilty at my lack of guidance. Wait, no, Kain, you are too considerate for your own good.

Tucking the journal away was one way of coping with anxiety. It wasn’t procrastination, rather, it was contemplating and reviewing the work carried out so far. The wooden chair was stiff, and the pillow attached had lost its softness.

I should get a reclining chair, that would be much more fun. The ceiling really lacks some colour, doesn’t it? I wonder what’s new in the capital today. Where did I leave the newspaper?

I straightened my posture that resembled a shrimp and shuffled through the draws in search for the Morning Star, a weekly newspaper that provided insights on the economy of the Kingdom. It was all the fad right now.

Ona would typically leave them around here, somewhere here anyways. There it is!

Beneath a pile of documents, a beige document with bold uppercase letters announces The Morning Star. Underneath a second, bolder statement covered the page.

"Unrelentless Avarice and the search for justice.”

Well, there goes the whole anonymity and confidentiality.

“The Crown’s watchdog accuses officials of embezzling funds, gets sent to investigate and the desperate search for missing gold. The treasury's coffers now lay empty.”

Wow, these town criers do know how to exaggerate their stuff, alright.

Fumbling with the paper, the texture felt soft, appealing, immaculate. Much like the expensive books one would encounter in the national archives.

Wait for a second, the quality of the paper is outstanding. It seems that even the binding technique has improved drastically. Although I doubt, they could produce them en masse anytime soon. Imagine that, every person being able to own one of these and read them of their own accord.

Whilst I marvelled at the quality of the paper, the actual quality of the reporting was subpar, in some cases revolting.

One extreme headline after the other, with the latter being more outrageous than the former. It is unfortunate that they must go to such extremes to captivate the people. Quite frankly the situation is nowhere near that terrible, and nowhere near that exciting. This form of transmission of information is…terrifying.

"Excuse me?”

The voice made me jump. I thought the door was locked.

"Ona? How many times have I told you to knock?”

She shrugged in response, her face had a certain innocent as if she was absolved of any guilt.

“I did? You just never answered. Just to let you know that preparations are half ready, although the two ducklings are not particularly useful. On the bright side, I managed to find a mercenary band crazy enough to be willing to accompany you on your final journey.”

I shoot up from my seat.

"So they do look like ducklings! It wasn't just me. Hey, you are making it sound as if I am sentenced to certain death. if I am going to be brutally murdered halfway, with my remains to be hidden under a tree, and my disappearance to be played out as an unfortunate accident.”

“Who knows, maybe you are. You are peacefully riding towards Blackrock unaware of the ambush ahead. The guard on your left receives an arrow to his throat, and you are being rushed by horsemen from each side. Their spears pierce your body and you drop to the floor. The jackals then feast on your remains and your disappearance is reported as an unfortunate

accident. The end!

My jaw had reached the floor.

“H-how terrifying. The pinpoint accuracy only raises my suspicions.

I recomposed myself and cleared my throat.

"I have a better plan in mind, how about you prepare dinner first? By the way, we might have to request additional funding, my allowance will run out halfway through the journey.”

“The Crown’s watchdog struggles to meet the obligation, requires bailout from the taxpayers. Now that’s what I call a sensational headline.”

“You are wrong, and sensationalism is wrong! I am merely a servant of the crown.”

“You’re wrong, sensationalism is wrong. Blah blah, you think the ordinary peon will care. Plus, you're a handsomely paid servant of the crown. Right, I will prepare for my evening walk. Ona, see that all preparations are done. Thank you.”

“Aye aye, Captain.”

Ona’s mocking salute remerged but I paid it no heed. Seeing my unamused face she grimaced and departed annoyed.

Why can’t this girl ever be normal? Well, now she is gone so it doesn’t matter all that much. I am stressed, I need a break.

Grey Gown, feathered cap and a leather bag. These were all the things I needed. Shortly after the door was slammed closed. I darted between corridors and made my way to the palatial gardens. The beautiful decorations, the inspiring art, the strange looks from the guards and maids that went on with their duties, none of them mattered to me. I had to get there.

Past a marbled archway, the pure white was slowly replaced by lush green. A live garden wall embedded with an intricate iron gate adorned with the royal crest. This was the main entrance to the palatial gardens. Few meters down there was a more modest wooden door, that leads to the lower section of the gardens. That’s where I preferred to frequent. Why? Because there was no one there most of the time, save for the occasional gardener on duty.

With the door pushed open one would be greeted by a simple patch of grass, few roses, and a line of wooden benches overlooking into the horizon. Personally, I thought the view was severely underrated. What was fascinating about the palace, and more importantly its hanging gardens, was that the overall palace spanned six enormous columns of rock, with each column connected by a suspended bridge.

From a strategic point, it was an impenetrable fortress, logistically however it was a pure nightmare. The city as a whole spread at the bottom of the columns and took advantage of the fertile grasslands.

Just where is she?

I strolled around the small garden inspecting every corner and little crevice. The trees showed no sign of her either.

"Noelle!”

"Noelle where are you?”

A high-pitched squeak brought my attention to the distant sky. A black dot that was overtime expanding, slowly revealing a cub-sized lion with wings the size of an eagle.

“Noelle, there you are.”

Noelle approached and with her nose, she pointed towards my leather bag.

"Of course, you have your priorities right. You better prepare yourself.”

A large lump of raw meat was withdrawn and with all the force I could muster was thrown into the distance beyond the rails.

Accepting the challenge, Noelle darted off to chase her meal.

That should give her some sort of challenge at least. What sort of predator receives her meal this easy? Ts, how spoiled.

Ah, I forgot my gloves. Now my hands are bloodied. Gross.

Like the civilised human I was, I wiped my hands on the grass.

There should have been a tap or some source of water around, poor planning decisions.

I could finally marvel at the beauty of nature. The clouds, the birds flying, the mountains piercing the horizon. Noelle’s screech resounded, she returned empty-handed, her expression.

Perhaps I overestimated. She is just a cub.

“Here, don’t pout like that. You can only blame your own limitations, my dear.”

Opening the mouth of the bag I let Noelle dig in.

Doubt she heard me; she looks like she enjoys it too much.

Listening to Noelle devouring the meat was not particularly complementing the scenery but it was a welcome one, nonetheless.

“We will be going on a journey, Noelle. Hope you are ready for it because I am not.”