Virian opened the door to his audience hall and took in a deep breath. Soon he’d be staring down the council of men awaiting him. He had not one ally among the vipers sitting within his palace. Not even the prince of outlaws who had somehow wormed his way amongst the nobles. Especially not him.

In truth, he wasn’t sure why he was still sitting on the governor’s chair, or why he was still alive for that matter. Ivy had been missing for over a year now, and Virian still had no idea what he was supposed to do with what she had left behind.

The church had more or less stationed an army outside Atrican’s walls after the massacre. Paladins patrolled the streets and market daily. The Bloody Prince controlled half of the city and all of the trade that didn’t pass through the church’s blockade. And then there was Rose. He could only imagine what was going through that one’s head. Virian’s only role was to…listen to these idiots bicker every day.

With a long sigh, he stepped into the chamber, making himself known to the others. Archbishop Gideon and inquisitor Hilrath acknowledged him first, each with a barely noticeable nod. The wordless stare from prince Armond was almost as bad. The others halted their current squabbling with grumbles of “your highness,” as Virian shuffled over to his seat.

The council was already fully assembled by the time he had arrived, just as Virian preferred. If he had to spend any more time than necessary with these idiots, he’d have gone mad already.

“My Lord Governor,” Duke Ferron began before Virian could even sit, “we must resolve this…” his eyes flicked over to the two church representatives, “this siege today.”

Despite everything, this was the one thing he and the duke could agree on. If the man wasn’t so adamant that Virian marry his daughter, it would be easier not to dislike the duke. But as far as the church went, they were on the same page. Except for perhaps the method of the church’s appeasement.

Virian’s eyes rolled from the duke to the archbishop seated across from the nobleman.

“And what makes you think the church is ever leaving Atrican, my lord duke?” Virian asked.

Ferron huffed.

“I did not say ‘leave,’ my prince. I merely wish for trade to flow freely again. And the method to achieve such a thing is right in front of our eyes!”

“It is?”

Ferron pushed back his chair and stood, looking Virian right in the eyes.

“Give them the witch, your highness.”

A few of the nobles sucked in a breath at his bold words, yet most were unphased. It was no secret what many thought of him.

“Duke Ferron,” Virian said, “in one breath you force your daughter Madeline on me as though your own life depended on it, yet in the next, you accuse me of heresy.”

“My prince. I do not—”

“As I have said before—”

“Oh please,” Countess Emilia butted in, “our governor surrounds himself with criminals and witches.” Her eyes lingered on Armond for a moment, who grinned at the woman. “Everyone knows what he is up to. He walked these very halls with the great despoiler of our city. Shared his bed with that…thing. And now he keeps another close to him.”

Virian dropped his face into his right palm. How many times would this come up?

“As I have already said, multiple times, Commander Rose is no witch.”

“And we are to take the word of an ensorcelled thrall?”

Well this was starting off great.

“No,” Archbishop Gideon spoke up for the first time, “but you may take mine. The prince speaks no deception, countess. The guardsman Rose has undergone…thorough testing. And the prince himself has taken the holy metal into his body. If the hellspawn corrupted him, the taint is now purged.”

His loyal dog the inquisitor nodded beside him. Virian found it difficult to be grateful to either of these jackals for coming to his defense. He could still taste the vial concoction on his tongue months later. He also remembered what it had done to his head. It had felt like he was somehow merely a passenger in his own body, merely observing himself going through the motions of what a human was supposed to do.

“I…” Emilia hesitated, “I, I understand, but everyone knows what he,” she shoved a finger in Virian’s direction, “is like! How he is soft towards them. His mother was one of them for god’s sake!”

Virian almost got up from his chair at her words, but forced himself to stay seated. He knew that if he budged even an inch, his sword would be out and it’d be rammed down the countess’ throat before he knew what he was doing. So he sat there and just took it. As he always had. Always would.

“The prince has been…cooperative,” Gideon said.

“Too cooperative,” Ferron chimed in again, “lord bishop. Your Highness. Trade must flow freely through Atrican. Our port is crucial to our country. The king himself—”

“I have spoken with the king,” Gideon said, “he is in full support of our holy mission.”

Virian just about laughed aloud. He couldn’t imagine his brother in full support of anything save for maybe himself. He was probably plotting to dispose of the church while smiling to their faces if only to rid the country of a challenge to his authority. Maybe he should introduce him to Ivy. They’d probably get along well.

Wait. No. He rubbed his aching forehead with both hands. Ivy was, well...not for his brother. Anything but that. His brother had enough. A kingdom, father’s favor, the respect of their other siblings. Virian had only ever had mother. He supposed he had had a connection to witches since he was a kid. He had no idea what Anton would do about Atrican, but for now, it was still Virian’s problem.

“Your highness?” Duke Ferron’s voice broke through Virian’s thoughts. “Are you alright?”

“Y-yes. Go on.”

“I was saying that if we brought forth a system of trusted merchants, vetted by your grace the archbishop of course, then we can—”

Virian tuned out the voices of his council of lords, pretending to nod along with their suggestions. It didn’t really matter if he agreed with him anyway. Of the present four factions, he easily controlled the least power. The noble lords possessed the most coin by far. The church held the greatest military might in the army camped beyond the walls, while Prince Armond had the ear of the masses.

But Virian? He had his name, a small garrison of loyal guardsmen, and…Rose. Although it was hard to tell how much she was worth. Especially after everything that had happened.

Eventually, the council came to some kind of decision on how to smoothly pick up trade again, to which Virian assented. It could only be a good thing for him if the church became less restrictive. He had no idea what he could accomplish with a bit of extra freedom, but at least it was there. In fact, he had little idea what to do with himself at all lately.

The storm that Ivy had brought with her mere presence had calmed into a stillness that grated at Virian. He was right back to where he had been before he had returned to Atrican. Nothing mattered anymore. His life was…boring without her.

The council began to file out of the room after exchanging a few more empty promises and pleasantries. Soon the room was empty save for one. Armond had never risen from his seat, and now his eyes were firmly planted on Virian.

“Well, let’s go, then,” Armond said.

“Go…where?”

Virian looked down on him from atop the raised dais where the governor’s chair sat. Finally, Armond stood and began walking towards him. No, not quite towards Virian. More like past him. Just as Armond reached the point where he was equal to Virian in regards to the back of the audience hall to Virian’s left, he opened his mouth again.

“Rose is already waiting for us,” he said, and then continued on, heading to the tunnel behind the dais reserved for the governor’s entrance.

Virian sighed but lifted himself off his own chair to follow. He could hardly deal with one of the two “friends” Ivy had brought into his life, and both of them at the same time sent a shiver down his spine. Yet he didn’t mind it all. If Armond wanted to speak to both of them, it could only be about one person. Ivy was the link between the three of them.

He hopped off of the dais, heading toward the red curtain that obscured the entrance to the tunnel that sat on the left side of the throne. Armond had already disappeared beyond, and when he pushed it aside, the man was likewise out of sight. The narrow stone corridor was dimly lit by only a few slits cut into the walls high above, and Virian was still much in his head when he almost ran straight into Armond.

The hulking older man had a body carved from granite, and he snorted down at Virian’s misstep.

“You lead,” he said.

“Are you trying to make me believe you don’t know where Rose is staying?”

Armond shrugged.

“It’s your palace. I figured you might not want to be seen as a follower in your own domain.”

“Oh so you were just being considerate? That’s even less believable.”

The man had sent how many assassins to kill him again? If the first had not been Ivy, he would have been dead a long time ago. Nevertheless, He stepped around the massive criminal overlord and pulled open the door that led into the rest of the palace.

The hallway beyond was empty, as were most of the interior and ground of his estate these days. Virian trusted no one in Atrican save for those sworn directly to him, and even those very little. The servants and guards were few, and the one thing he had managed to win from the council was: no paladins in the palace. Rose had of course insisted upon it, but Virian had no argument.

The two of them strolled silently through cold, dark, grey, stone corridors one after another that looked no different from the last until finally, Virian stopped. Before him was an iron-banded wood door not unlike the many they had passed before. The only difference here was the lack of dust that coated everything else in the palace. An arched groove cut into the otherwise soiled stone floor belied frequent use.

He grabbed the round iron ring that served as a handle as well as a knocker and gave it a few pounds against the wooden surface. It was a superfluous gesture of course. Rose of all people would already know they were right outside.

“Enter,” came her voice from the other side of the door.

Virian pushed open the door to her chamber and found her sitting in a high-backed chair behind a desk strewn with maps. The witch looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes and a sour, slack expression. One-half of her once flawless and beautiful face was marred with crinkled, splotchy red patches of half-torn skin. Back when Ivy was still in Atrican, he had never seen Rose with such a look on her face. Now, it was the norm.

Armond stepped in behind him and slammed the door shut. Rose shifted her gaze to Armond for a moment and huffed.

“How…are you, Rose?” Virian asked.

Despite everything that had happened, sometimes he still felt for the witch. They didn’t often meet anymore, but when they did, he couldn’t help himself. She hadn’t deserved what had happened to her, yet every time he mentioned it, she had professed its necessity.

“How am I?” she asked. “How am I? Do you really want to know, Prince?”

Virian frowned. He already didn’t like where this was going. “I don’t think I would have asked otherwise.”

“Then I’ll tell you. It’s been a month since poison was forced down my throat every day for an entire year. To continue operating in this forsaken shithole you pretend to govern, I allowed myself to be crippled and tortured every single day for a year. I let them erase who I am. Who I have been for centuries. And still now my strength is muted. The metal still runs through my veins, slowly killing me.

“My enemies surround me in numbers I’ve never dreamed of fighting head-on, yet am forced to confront because the one person who might be able to turn things around is a stubborn, willful idiot. I blame myself for that mismanagement daily. So how am I doing? Not good. And you can’t do anything to change that. So stop wasting your pity on me.”

Huh. Well at least Virian wasn’t the only one feeling like shit. Once again he wondered how Ivy was doing. Where could she—

Behind him, Armond burst into raucous laughter. It went on and on and on until Virian could no longer stand it, and turned, giving the man a piercing look. A few more moments and he finally calmed down, though likely to none of Virian’s meager effort.

“That was well done, Rose,” he said, smiling widely at the witch.

The tinest curl of her lip on the burnt side of her face caught Virian’s eye as he returned his attention to her, but then it was gone in an instant.

“Well, why don’t you tell the boy, then,” she said.

Virian rolled his eyes.

“Tell me what? What have you two done?”

“Many things,” Armond said, “but perhaps one above all.”

“Stop trying to sound so impressive,” Rose said, “it’s not working.”

“You’re only not impressed because you already knew.”

Armond Stepped up past Virian’s right side and grinned down at Rose. She returned his stare in silence, and the two just sat there, holding each other’s gazes like…like—

“What is happening here?” Virian asked. Had he missed something?

Armond ignored him and continued his advance toward Rose.

“Tell the truth, were you not impressed when you first learned of my discovery?”

These two were actually worse than the council. What discovery? What the hell was going on?

Rose huffed a breath of air at him for the second time since entering her chamber.

“Stop trying so hard. You’re far too young.”

On the surface, of course, it would appear the opposite, yet Virian knew the truth of Rose’s age, and that was that she didn’t even know it herself. Apparently, she had waited centuries for Ivy to be born, and had already lived a long life before that. Yet still, the thought of Armond courting Rose was—

He shook his head. Why was he even considering any of this? It was so stupid.

“What discovery?” Virian asked.

Armond turned to Virian with a deep frown etched into his aged face.

“Oh, just tell him before he hurts himself thinking too hard,” Rose said.

The king of the Atrican underworld sniffed, but once again smiled as wide as one could imagine.

“I found her,” he said.