“We realize there is... information each of us are privy to. We would like to confirm with you whom you wish to know what,” the Imperial says, easing his way into the clearing as I stand, much quieter than I would expect for a man of his size.

Flash stops right behind his father, his eyes twinkling as he, the Imperial, and Sir Rey descend on my little place of peace that isn’t so peaceful any longer.

I lean against the boulder at my back, watching them through slit eyes. “Basically, which of you knows what about me and what can you share between yourselves.”

The Imperial and Flash give sheepish nods, but Sir Rey regards me calmly. He knows the most, perhaps, of all of them. And the least.

He also watches me more wearily than the others, for good reason. He knows what an assassin goes through in training. He knows what I’m capable of. He knows what I could do if I lose the thread of my sanity… and how unlikely it would be that I could be stopped.

I have a feeling he knows exactly who and what I am... if I have correctly pieced together just who and what he is.

I finger the paper in my cloak, the information on it of the man I once loved and trusted as a brother… and the deep ache in my heart of yet another betrayal. Where there are sentient beings... there is pain. But without them, the world would be a lonely place. It begs the question: would I rather be lonely and unhurt, or surrounded by pack I care for, giving them the keys to my pain?

I don't know. And it's times like these when I want to leave it all behind and disappear into the woods until the day I die. At least then, the sorrow tightening my chest wouldn't be.

I look out into the night, fighting a tingling behind my eyes as I stand before the man who killed my birth father before the small kernel of hope of reconciliation could grow into fruition.

It was very possible my father would always see my brother’s death when he looked at me, but I had hope while he lived, however unlikely, that we could someday come together. That we could somehow… I don’t know. Something.

I remember what he did to me. I remember how he encouraged the rivalry between me and my cousin, how he took my cousin’s side more oft than not, and he never showed me the love and attention I so desperately desired—no, the love I needed as a boy who had lost his mother and as a prince who had lost his way.

Instead, he retreated even further into his wars and politics, becoming a beloved and respected king; all the while I slowly died long before he sold me. Long before the death of my brother.

And now, all hope is gone.

All the more reason for me to cling to that remaining thread of sanity with a death grip. Because if I lose it and choose to take others down with me… it won’t be my life this world should fear. It would be my death.

The blackness inside me grumbles, wakening at the thought of such death and delighting in such knowledge that if I lost control—it would be in charge.

If such happened, I would kill us. Do not fear, Roland. I will not let you become a monster.

His offer floors me. I stand and pace to the edge of the woods, looking into the darkness and shadows of grey that lighten as my eyes adjust. I come to grips with the sudden flare of—is that understanding?—in my breast at Cynic’s offer.

Thank you.

I turn back to the three watching me. The Imperial stands in the center, his eyes creased with concern beneath his bushy brows. His hands are behind his back and he leans slightly forward in an unconscious sign of attention.

Flash stands to the right of the Imperial and slightly behind his father. He copies the gesture of attention, but if his sparkling eyes are any indication, either he’s thinking of something malicious or he’s consciously following his father to be facetious. He grins at me and winks, straightening his shoulders.

I shake my head, an almost-smile trying to tip my lips despite the gravity of the situation.

Sir Rey stands at the Imperial’s left, not quite aligned with the others, his eyes scanning the woods, all the while keeping me in view at all times. His hand is on the broadsword at his waist, a massive thing I doubt a human could wield. His face is carved of stone, not showing a hint of his thoughts.

I will need to be careful around him. He is a dangerous man, and I know not where his true allegiance lies. He is a traitor to both sides. He owes a blood debt to both sides.

A part of me aches that I already have given him much to use against me should he be sending information to my cousin.

Walking back, I lean against a tree, facing three of the most dangerous men in the Empire, all in their own ways. “Alright. You all know I’m the Lost Prince. I’ll clear up a few other things now. The other berserk in the room,” I give Flash a wry smile. He returns a grim one of his own. “I wish to move the rebel Shifters here.” Flash looks at me in surprise. My eyes dance slightly. I know that isn’t what he was expecting. “Is this feasible?” I ask.

Flash's grin grows, his pointed teeth poking from beneath the scraggly beard he’s trying to grow.

The Imperial’s brows lower then rise as his eyes widen with surprise. “Now see here, lad—

Flash gives a short bark of laughter, cutting his father off. “For you, my friend, dad would likely hand over his ring. This place where you freed many of our clansman is yours to do with as you will.”

“I sense a story here.” Sir Rey’s lips quirk.

“That’s an understatement,” Flash mumbles.

“Back on track. I’ll take Nova with Sir Rey and a few of his chosen to get his people to bring here.”

The Imperial grunts, stroking his bushy beard. With as much hair as the Imperial has and the plain brown and green tunic he wears, he fits right in out here. “As much as Grendal loves speaking for me”—the Imperial grins, ignoring Flash’s groan at his given name—“I am unsure of the logistics of bringing an unknown number of Shifters here. Will there be enough provisions in this valley to last the winter? Or will it be a tax on this valley we can’t afford? That is not to mention the prejudice held by both sides." He shoots me a daring gaze that says more than words; it questions the sanity I hold in trying to bring the two species together more than I already have.

I nod. “All good points, sir. I will personally ensure they are cared for and do not place a further burden on your shoulders.”

His eyes pin me to my tree, brows lowering with a glower. “You know this is not what I meant, Imperialson. They are also not a burden you should place on yourself at this moment. I am only pointing out the problems likely to arise should they come here.”

“My people.” The thought brings a slight smile to my face. “They are my people, Imperial. I cannot in good conscience leave them to the nonexistent mercy of the mages.”

Sir Rey grunts, and I look at him. “It won’t be easy, sir. Many in the pack have become comfortable where they are. I hate to tear them from it.” I’m surprised to hear him speak plainly about emotion. Typically, such a thing is lacking among my old... profession. Sir Rey meets my gaze, and, as if sharing in the surprise of his own comment, lifts his brows.

“It’s true. If what you're saying is correct, they’ve built a community there. A family. A pack. A territory. They won’t wish to leave.” I want to pull my hair, but an assassin doesn’t show his true feelings. I almost snort. What made me a good assassin was knowing when to show my true feelings—and when not to.

“Sir, the people may not like it, but is it truly the best? I believe so.”

“Then how will we convince them of that fact?” I question.

“Is it not obvious?” Sir Rey's words bring a pang to my heart.

“I won’t Command them. I’m not my father,” I say, my voice growing deep and hard, brooking no argument.

He tilts his head, not entirely convinced, but when a low growl rumbles in my throat, a hint of his uncertainty returns and he leans back, automatically avoiding my gaze and showing his neck.

“If you don’t, then will they come?” Flash asks the question rattling around in my head. I look to Sir Rey, and he glances up briefly before looking again at the dark woods around us.

“It’s possible. But it’s also possible they’ve grown too complacent. I would place my bets upon the second.” His words are not at all reassuring.

“Are they safe?” I know the answer. We all do.

“No. The jingoist are closing in, tracking many of our best scouts with bloodhounds and dragons. If the mages were more open-minded—“ he shakes his head softly. Sadly. “—But no. There will be no help from that side. They killed the only ambassador we sent, and have been quiet ever since. They will turn a blind eye to the jingoist so close to their lands, if only to get rid of the scour they don’t wish to bloody their noble hands with.” He growls the last. And I’m willing to bet the next mage he gets his hands on will wish they’d never been born.

“Then we ask. We explain. But I won’t Command.”

“Sir—“ Sir Rey’s voice is fraught with anguish, overpowering his hesitations.

I cut him off with a wave of my hand. “No. I will not make them give up their right to choose.”

He meets my gaze squarely. His own black eyes so like my own blazing in intensity. He nods with a bow. “I understand.”

“Then we will try. And until then, I must rest.” I glare at Flash.

He grins, unrepentant. “What? I knew we needed to conspire. Wasn’t it great? Just like the knights of old,” he wistfully finishes, looking out at the trickling stream of shimmering water.

I deadpan him with a look. “You are a cat. Why would you want to be a knight?”

“They ‘Were’ quite the hero’s, no?” His inflection on Were—I shake my head.

“What am I to do with him?” I question the sky.

“Make him the court jester?” Sir Rey comments offhandedly as he bows and slinks off into the night.

“Yes. Ingenious. I can dress him in bells and tights! Although—he might chase the bells—“ Flash throws a rock at my head and I laugh, ducking.

He slinks into the night, mumbling about illiterate, tail-chasing dogs. The smile slowly drains from my face, and my gaze is once again drawn to the stars above. Oh, to be so free!

I can feel the Imperial’s gaze on my face.

“What will you do?” he asks, easing his bulk down on a boulder.

“What I’ve always done. What I will always do.”

“And what is that?”

“What must be done without stealing a sentient being’s choice.”

He bows. “Then I will support you. The Were of Al Ki’shon will also be at your back.”

I give him a wry smile. “They are still around, eh?”

His eyes twinkle as white teeth show through his beard in a snarling grin. “Of course we are, Imperialson. We may hide, but we never die.”

“Such is the Gift of the Immortals.”

“And such is the curse of legacy.” He pauses, his brows furrowing as he watches me with curiosity. He leans forward, putting his elbows on his thighs. “How do you remember so much about the different species and their customs?”

I grin at him, feeling my eyes crinkle. “Sir, it was the best part of my training. Besides, knowing the spy of the Were was just as important as understanding how to plot a poisoning.”

He slaps his knee with a laugh. “You are something else, boy. Glad you’re on our side.” He stands with a groan. “These old bones aren’t what they once were. Be thankful for the Gift of youth.”

He squeezes my shoulder on the way past, meandering back to the now quiet camp where Shifters are on the far side and the Were are on the other.

We have a long way to go, but at least we’re all alive to claw our way to victory... or death.