“Sir,” David peeked into Ranun’s office with the door hiding his thin-bearded face. “Your afternoon appointment is here.”

Is it afternoon already? Ranun thought, checking the clock behind his desk to confirm. Man, time’s been flying by recently.

“Bring him in,” Ranun said. David nodded, retreating out of the door. Soon after, Kinler pushed the door open. He dressed formally in his agent-general uniform, a silver vest cleanly pressed against his lean form, his pecs sticking out. The cuffs around his wrist and his undershirt were gold in color. Only the Colors could wear orange as their primary color in the military, but having any on your outfit was a high honor otherwise. Despite the laws of the Colors, Kinler, as an agent-general, was on par with Gordon, a Colorsword general.

He had only two medals on his uniform above his right vest pocket. One was a glistening gold shield emblem—the same as the Soucrest flag—the other was a silver sword with a black hilt. These two medals undersold not only his ability but his history fighting for this country. He liked to keep underground, always avoiding commendations when deserved.

“Sir,” Kinler said, closing the door behind him. “May I make myself at home?”

Ranun smiled. “Of course.”

And Kinler did, slouching himself on the couch in front of Ranun’s desk. He lifted his legs over the armrests and lay his head on the other side, looking comfortable enough to take a nap. His head turned to Ranun, ready to discuss.

How does a man look so professional but act so… informal, Ranun thought. He couldn’t help himself from smiling at the man. He finally made it to the top of the food chain, and he hadn’t changed a single bit. Most men changed with power. Few were as humbled with their spot on the ladder as Kinler.

“As you know,” Ranun sighed. He hated starting discussions like this, but it was a part of the job. “Tensions are rising in Valoria. There has been peace for many years, not a single war in a decade. But this blissful time is on its way out, unfortunately. Norcrest and Reece are having border disputes, and Midhelm had a string of noblemen assassinated down in the south and more killed in the east. Both places being where the general populace is growing angry and discontent with their king. And of course, Dormoor, with our recent problems there.”

Kinler nodded from his rest.

“We couldn’t have assembled your team in a more timely manner. Jakar has at long last arrived, but we are waiting for a last-minute exchange from Wargon. A promising and talented archer who goes by the name Wing. He will be here in three weeks, a little behind schedule, but well worth the wait, I promise.

“But—in the meantime—I have two tasks I need you to accomplish. Your time as an agent-general will be divided by your six agents. But, one of them needs your assistance more than anybody else right now.”

“Anemone?” Kinler asked.

Ranun nodded. In a sword-versus-sword world, Anemone had a lot of work to do. He didn’t question her athletics, but the sword was something many practiced since their early youth. She had only a few weeks—a third of a season—to catch up. A part of Ranun worried she wouldn’t make it far in the agency.

“She has only a week of improper practice under her belt. How much uninterrupted time would it take for you to bring her to proficiency.”

“Does she have talent?” Kinler asked. His legs shifted from the armrest, swapping positions with the other. He had at least the decency not to tarnish Ranun’s furniture with his boots.

“She’s very well versed in hand-to-hand combat,” Ranun said. “But I haven’t seen or heard anything more out of her.”

“Have you spent enough time with her to tell?” Kinler asked.

“As much as anyone,” Ranun said. He wouldn’t tell him of their deal. He would keep it secret. For now. “But according to Pedr, she was extraordinary fighting against other members of Dork’s beast program.”

“Then,” Kinler said. “Unadulterated time, I would say a full year’s time, and she’ll be proficient if trained by me.”

“Is that promising or not?” Ranun asked.

“How long did it take you to learn the sword? How long did it take you before you could stand ground with the average warrior?”

Ranun leaned back in his chair, eyes to the ceiling. Bad memories, many he didn’t like to think about. “I trained since I was six. My father bought me a real sword at seven. At age twelve, he signed me up to fight in the army. And fourteen was when I was accepted to the Dullswords.”

Kinler looked thoughtful for a moment. He, too, had fought since a young age, though slavery forced his hand, while Ranun took up the sword as a duty to his father.

“And your first kill?” Kinler asked

“Eleven,” Ranun said.

“That’s pretty young. And before you were even in the army?”

Ranun simply nodded. Kinler didn’t press him any further about it, which Ranun was grateful for. He didn’t like to think about it, but he was sure that kill perhaps changed his perception of death forever. He envisioned it regardless, bathing in the reality of his early youth. He remembered desperation on the inmate’s face, given a blade and a reason to stall his death sentence. His shock and fear were sweating off his dirt-soaked face. He picked up his sword, and he charged.

At the time, Ranun was heartless. At least, what he considered to be heartless through his eyes today. The Ranun of old lifted his sword, swatted away the inmate’s blade, then impaled him through the heart. A swift kill. The product of five years of his father’s training. But nothing prepared him for the feeling of taking another life.

It wasn’t right, Ranun thought. The inmate haunted Ranun forever, but it didn’t keep him producing bloodshed in Gleon. It took a man slightly who at the time was older than Ranun was now to bring him to his senses. Ranun owed everything to him.

“I suppose a year is too much to ask,” Ranun said, concluding. “Especially with the other agents needing your attention. But we should be careful with her. We are unaware of her power’s capabilities. All we know is what Aidan had tested.”

“We can find her a tutor while the agency is active,” Kinler suggested. He seemed more determined to get her well versed with the sword before digging deep into her power. It made sense. Her blood might be a powerful weapon in its own right, but it meant nothing if she died early in battle. “But otherwise, in the three weeks we have, I can get her on the right path forward with the others.”

Ranun nodded. “She seems eager to train, which is good. And yes, training her while you can is a good idea. But, I’m afraid I have another mission I need you on. By my estimation, it will take maybe a week, perhaps longer.”

Kinler adjusted himself, sitting straight on the couch, no longer resting on his side. His uniform crumpled up, needing another pressing. “A mission? By myself?”

“I need someone a little more… persuasive than the others who are available.”

“Me? Persuasive? I’m afraid you have the wrong man.”

“If you were in Dork’s position,” Ranun said. He thought it was better to explain first and then use the mission's context to convince Kinler to take on the mission. “Who would you rather side with, Dormoor or Soucrest.”

“Soucrest. Dormoor has been bullying Dork for quite a while now, haven’t they? Of course I would side with Soucrest. It’s logical, and it’s more beneficial to their people not to enable their bully even further.”

Ranun nodded. “Soucrest and Dormoor are not connected. If a war does occur between us and them, Dork is the sliver of land between our borders. I can’t understate the importance these borders have if such a conflict arises. Your task is to convince Dork to become a protectorate of Soucrest. You understand the logic of it through a leader’s eyes. I don’t think the others who could speak on behalf of Soucrest understand the mission at hand better than you do.”

“Yes sir,” Kinler said. “The others are too militaristic. But that much is anticipated in a system that honors valor over all.”

The best way to secure Soucrest in such a conflict was to occupy Dork. The other leaders would rather use Soucrest’s strength as a kingdom to threaten them. Kinler, on the other hand, was more of a realist, which translated more sincerely in negotiation. Whenever Kinler spoke his mind, Ranun wanted to listen. And he would learn.

“Give them a five-year window of our occupation,” Ranun said. “Barring a continued war, we will return them their control once the conflict settles.”

“Understood.”

It was a simple task, but it was a lot to ask for a country to accept another’s army to walk and hold their land. If the Dork lord refused, there wasn’t much Soucrest could do. They would just have to fortify within their borders, then prepare for Dormoor to conquer Dork with force. In Ranun’s suggestion, Dork would at least keep their independence, even if forced into an alliance with Soucrest.

It seemed like the more favorable option Dork to take, something Ranun would accept in a heartbeat if he were in their position. But he was far too experienced in his position as king to know that many leaders were prideful to a fault. And prideful leaders would instead bring their country down in flames than submit willingly.

“What resources do I have to offer?” Kinler asked. “They will likely want a benefit if they are to accept our occupation.”

“Offer them financial assistance and common necessities such as food and resources. Say that we will help build them homes and improve their cities and economy.”

“Yes sir,” Kinler said. “Anything else?”

Ranun lifted a single finger. He debated this coming up with the plan. He thought it was right, though it might hinder the chance of breaking the deal with the Dork leader. But could Ranun sit around and let the same injustice happen to more kids while he called one of them his daughter?

“I want you to demand that they cease the beast camps for good,” Ranun said.

“The beast camps?” Kinler asked. “That’s a big part of their tradition and culture. But I agree, it’s wrong. Something needs to change, and I’ll gladly get it done.”

“Good man,” Ranun said, relieved Kinler was so on board—

“On one condition,” Kinler said, grinning smugly at his king. “Anemone joins me on this mission.”

Ranun found his head turning right as he entered a slight thought. Wasn’t it too soon to send her on a mission? It wasn’t necessarily a dangerous one, but Anemone needed more time to adjust to a new life. To normalcy. Anemone was quite open about her past, but what if sending her back could trigger memories even worse when she was beaten unconscious, abused by the proclaimed “beast tamers.”

He eventually rejoined eye contact with Kinler. “It might not be a good idea bringing her to the place that holds such a… derogatory view of her green eyes.”

“With all due respect, sir, you don’t doubt my ability to protect my men, do you?”

Kinler is prideful, too, Ranun thought. He believes he can protect everybody. I thought that once too, and I was proven very wrong.

“No, Kinler, I don’t doubt you. You’re right. I have reservations, but they are a separate matter altogether.”

“Time I spend on the mission can also be used as time preparing her for the agency,” Kinler said. A good point, Ranun hadn’t thought about that. “And besides, it’s good for anybody to make a difference in their home country. We should know.”

Ranun nodded. “Very well, you two will head out tomorrow morning. I’ll inform her. Meet here at seven.”

Kinler stood up and saluted, fist pressed against his heart. Ranun stood up to join him. “You’re dismissed,” Ranun said. “Do Soucrest proud.”

He nodded, turning around and leaving out the door. Convincing Dork to cease operations of the camps would be a tricky challenge. Their people wouldn’t like it. They were afraid of green eyes of all things. Silly, but they were genuinely terrified. Another reason Ranun no longer believed the Seven Warriors had any merit behind their teachings. If one could spew such disgusting world views, untrue and immoral, what made the others right? He found problems with all but one growing up. And the one he could understand, he couldn’t bring himself to believe anymore.

Ranun sat back down in his chair. Suddenly, time started to stretch, and Ranun felt the day starting to wane a little longer. Tonight, he would brief Anemone about the task. Tomorrow, he would send her off for the first time since he invited her into his home.

He had mixed feelings involving Anemone. At times, Ranun would think and ponder about how he adopted Anemone. She was practically already an adult by Valorian standards. Yet she seemed so young, naive to the world. A lot had to be invested into her for her to make it in this world.

But hey, that was what being a parent was about, right?

Ranun would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy coming home to her eager eyes. Every night, she’d ask for his help training with the sword, seeking his advice and wisdom on the art. She’d quickly become one of the highlights of his nightly life. He saw her swing and swing and swing for hours in the mansion yard. She would tire himself out just to rest and push her limits even further. So much energy, reminding Ranun of Aeryn when he was a small lad.

Ranun tapped at his desk, thoughtful. A trip to Dork might do her well. Ranun wanted to see her return, and he wanted to see how much she would improve after a week or so with Kinler.

For the time being, Ranun returned to work.

An hour or so later, his door suddenly burst open, and none other than Ranun’s brother strode inside. He entered with a grin.

“You seem chipper,” Ranun said.

“Carter and I are about on our way out of here,” he said, taking a seat. He wasn’t in his suit of armor today, so it didn’t bother Ranun when he sat on his furniture. “We have good chances in hunting Corolla in Steepcreek. The investigation begins tomorrow.”

“Very good,” Ranun smiled. “Bring that bastard to justice.”

Corolla had persisted as a problem for too long now. A thorn in Soucrest’s side. One that, if not pulled out, would start to infect. They had to take care of him now before another incident like Igor repeated. The first step to that goal was preventing Gem Candy from being distributed to their people. The percentage was reportedly small in Steepcreek, but it grew steadily enough to be a problem in a season’s time.

“Aeryn’s first mission in the colors will be assisting us,” Gordon said. “I thought you should know. He’s going to be a hero only days after his induction.”

“Don’t kid yourself,” Ranun grinned. “Aeryn’s already a hero. People just don’t know it yet.”

“He’s in your shadow, after all.”

“No. He’s too bright for that.”

Gordon leaned forward, rubbing his hands. He spent most of his life in his armor, so much so that while he wasn’t wearing it, he was cold. Shivering, even when there wasn’t even so much as a draft flowing through the room. “You should be proud of him.”

“I am,” Ranun said. “He’s turned into a better version of myself. That’s all I could ever hope for as his parent. But, I must attribute everything better about him came directly from his mother more so than myself.”

Gordon nodded. His lips turned to a line. “The best of both worlds, isn’t he?”

They embraced a moment of silence, looking at each other. Boy, had they both grown since their early youth. They were at the middle of their lives, nearing the end of their warrior phase. The time Gordon had left, Ranun was grateful he would spend it training Aeryn.

Gordon still worked harder than anybody, and he held up better than Ranun expected, sixteen years sober of war. Ranun didn’t know at first if he would make it. His entire life before the war ended had been battle and conflict. He was the man their father always wanted him to be. And Ranun was the opposite, at least, in their father’s eyes.

“I suppose it’s time to go,” Gordon stood. He looked solemn. Corolla was the closest thing to a battle he had left. “Goodbye, brother. ‘Till we meet again.

“Goodbye.”

As Gordon pressed his hand against the knob, Ranun swallowed. “Wait!”

Gordon turned around.

“I’ve had some… changes in the family recently.”

Gordon lowered a brow. “Yes?”

“I’ve adopted a daughter.”

“Oh. You have? What’s her name?”

“Anemone,” Ranun said, trying to keep his posture strong.

Gordon frowned. “The girl we kidnapped?”

“I like the word ‘liberated’ better personally. But yes, that’s the one.”

Gordon looked uncomfortable like the news irritated him a little bit. “It’s not a smart move.”

Ranun frowned. Gordon always told him how he felt and if he had done anything wrong.

“People may look down on such a decision,” Gordon said. “Especially other military men. How many have you told?”

“You are the only one,” Ranun said. “But we are keeping it a secret.”

Gordon walked from the door, pressed his hands against the back of the couch, and leaned forward. “What came of you to do such a thing? It wasn’t because of Hannan, was it?”

Don’t say that name, Ranun almost said. He almost snapped. But he held back, bottling up his passion. Those words would have done him more bad than good. Bring memories even worse than the ones he had about the war and the men he murdered.

His irritation must have shown as Gordon loosened his posture. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s alright,” Ranun said. He felt flustered. Nothing, not even Anemone, could replace her. “But no. It was a decision I thought was right at the moment. And honestly, Gordon, I’m not regretting it.”

Gordon nodded. He could see honesty out of Ranun’s eyes as Ranun could see truth out of others. That was the ability of brotherhood. “Very well. I’ll be sure to stop by and meet her when I return. Should I let Aeryn know?”

“If you would,” Ranun said. He wondered how Aeryn would take the news. “Long ago, he was excited to have a little sibling.”

Gordon smiled, letting go of the couch, and walked back to the door. “I suppose now’s a good moment to tell you… I haven’t broken the news to Jaxton yet.”

Oh, dear…

“Kinler’s agency begins in three weeks,” Ranun said with slight irritation. “He should know sooner than later. Do you not have the heart to tell him?”

“He’s so attached to me; I don’t know if I can. The kid clings to me, and it’s hard.”

Jaxton was the closest thing Gordon had to a son of his own. Of course, it was hard to let him go. But, Ranun couldn’t help but find the irony of Gordon telling Ranun to let Aeryn go, and now he couldn’t do the same.

But to be fair, one was a man who had already left his nest. The other didn’t want to leave.

“Jaxton needs friends,” Ranun said. “Perhaps colleagues. So does Anemone and many of the other agents joining. It’s best not to worry and just get it done. He needs this agency to grow.”

Gordon understood. The stubborn demeanor said otherwise, but Ranun saw underneath the surface. “I thought it was me who was supposed to lecture you not to worry. When was it that we swapped roles?”

Ranun smiled, and Gordon rubbed his head. Gordon grunted then waved dismissively before turning his body to the door.

“We’ll return to Falcon Hill with Corolla in hand. Then, I’ll tell him,” Gordon said, pulling the door open.

“Bring back a lady for yourself too,” Ranun said.

Gordon didn’t even turn his head to entertain Ranun. He simply walked through and closed the door on his way out.

That may have struck a chord, Ranun thought. He knew Gordon struggled with women, but he had made remarks like those before and had playful responses as if they weren’t at all a big deal. Gordon had good qualities to him, well deserving of any woman he wanted. It was just so odd seeing him go so long without a steady relationship.

Perhaps when he returned, Ranun could set him up with one. A good one. A charming one who could pierce his stern exterior and finally get him to smile openly.