Nobody knew when he left and returned, since Siles didn't always respond to requests for rebellion interference immediately, but he still hoped that somebody had taken advantage of his absence to slit the Queen's throat.

But he wasn't so lucky. Nobody stopped him after he had changed into his normal castle attire, and no note awaited him on the door to his chambers. So he returned to the throne room, taking the scenic route to prolong the inevitable meandering conversation with the drunken Queen.

A sound interrupted his misery, almost like a whimpering animal. Its source lay behind a closed door, making it none of his business, but Siles couldn't resist the urge to try the handle. It was unlocked. Quietly, he pushed it open until the hinge threatened to creak. Inside, the frightened mouse bled red, cowering as the knife-wielding magician drew closer. Siles quietly shut the door, then knocked.

Seconds later, the magician answered. Now Siles could see his face. "Jericho. I was looking for Miss Lucy."

Jericho shifted his weight, one hand tucked behind his back. He was hiding the knife; he didn't know that Siles had seen it only a moment before. "Right. Yes, she's here." He looked back into the room, shouting "servant!" before turning back to Siles with a nervous smile. As a lower ranking government magician, he was among the many who regarded Siles as a threat instead of a protector.

Lucy stepped into the hall, the slash on her cheek carefully filled with face powder. Her head remained ducked after the door closed, her arms wrapped around herself as if they could protect her from the cruelties of the world.

He wanted to hug her, or at least apologize on Jericho's behalf. But he didn't. "Your place is the throne room."

She nodded, immediately scurrying down the hall as Siles followed at a leisurely pace. Her situation wasn't an unusual one; magicians considered themselves almost a separate species from their non-magical counterparts, which meant they had every legal right to treat commoners as they wished. Siles shook his head before he could begin another imaginary argument with the Queen. Their nonexistent arguments only ever exhausted him, especially since they reminded him of his own silence.

Jogging footsteps interrupted his thoughts, followed by a head of golden-brown hair. August immediately threw his arm around Siles' shoulder, his cloak trailing along Siles' back. His cloak and clothes were always pristine and unwrinkled, the level of care contrasting with his unkept hair in a way that made Siles wonder if he styled it that way. He would never ask; Siles avoided speaking to August as a rule. Even though he was immune to his magic, the mind-reader made him nervous.

"If it isn't the Queen's Guard himself! I've been looking for you. Didn't expect to find you saving a servant girl, though." Siles froze mid-step. Nobody had been nearby when he had opened the door, he was sure of that. August continued, "Her terror was really loud, so I was coming over to shut her up myself when she suddenly started thinking about you."

Siles remained frozen, the arm around his shoulders suddenly more like a threat than an overly friendly gesture. "Don't worry, though. I won't tell anyone. Where are you headed to? The throne room?" Siles nodded. "I'll walk with you."

The arm shoved him back into motion, dragging him down the twisting halls. "But back to what I actually wanted to talk to you about. I'm holding a dinner party tomorrow night at Three Sheets, want to come?"

Normally, Siles would have said no. No, I have to guard the Queen, even though I don't work night shifts because the night guard includes twenty soldiers armed to the teeth. No, I have other plans because I have dozens of nonexistent friends. No, I don't like you so I'm not going to your party. But instead he said, "Fine. What time?" because thanks to his decision to help a crying mouse, August presented a threat.

"Ten o'clock, but don't worry about that. I'll knock on your door and walk you over." August beamed, his grin childishly excited as if Siles had promised to make him king rather than agreeing to eat a meal. Then they reached the throne room and his hand finally left Siles' shoulder. "See you then."

Siles watched him leave the room before brushing the feeling of August's arm from his shoulder. The Queen waited for him in the throne room. She was a long stretch from sober, as usual, but she was at least conscious.

"The latest rebellion has been suppressed."

"Mm." The Queen's head lolled, coming to a rest on her hand. But her hand kept her head propped up, so she was likely more bored than she was drunk.

Siles glanced at the servant girl standing in the shadows of the doorway, still blinking away tears. She was quiet, quieter than any other servant he'd met. She wouldn't tell if he did something uncharacteristic. He turned back to the Queen. "Your highness, I have found that one of the lower magicians is plotting against you."

Her head jerked up, the fastest movement she had made in weeks. Red glinted behind her eyes, her bloodlust finally finding something to latch onto. "Who?"

"Jericho." In the corner of his eye, Siles saw the servant girl's eyes widen.

The Queen nodded, though Siles could tell she didn't remember the man. Alcohol had stolen her memories slowly, but even slow thieves accumulated a mountain of treasure given enough time. "Send him to me." She was going to kill him herself. Siles smiled.

He had seen the ground open up and crush him, ever so slowly just like the alcohol crushed the Queen's mind. He had waved the little servant girl out of the room before it happened. As cruel as the magician had been, Siles doubted the little mouse found death as delicious as her superiors.

Yet the blood had done nothing to satisfy the Queen's thirst. She brought the glass to her lips as soon as the sun began to rise, draining several bottles by the time it reached the top of the cloudless sky. "Bring me another," she said. And Siles obeyed.

She was asleep by one o'clock, and even the sound of the glass shattering when it fell from her limp hand didn't jostle her. Siles ignored the servant girl as she swept the glass shards out of sight, instead considering the boredom that awaited him. Usually, the drunken Queen talked steadily and without pause, not caring whether Siles responded. It had been entertaining, until her mind failed to remember what her mouth had already said and he found himself listening to the same story on repeat. But now, there was nothing to listen to but his own silence.

He could leave. Wander the corridors, eavesdrop, take a midday nap. But he had a job, to protect the Queen, and without Council approval to stop some commoner rebellion he couldn't ignore his duties without punishment. For every magician that hated the Queen, there was an ardent supporter who would ensure that Siles' face would decorate "Wanted" posters on the corner of every building in the kingdom if he so much as hinted at disloyalty. Then there were the magicians who hated the Queen and Siles, and knew killing Siles was the key to killing the Queen.

It was a miserable predicament, but he had a solution. Siles left, for the briefest of moments, and returned with a wooden chair dragging along the tiles behind him. He set the chair beside the throne, withdrew a book from his cloak and began to read.

When he finished the book around four o'clock, he sent the servant girl to retrieve something else from the fiction section of the castle library. The smallest of smiles crossed her face when she handed it to him. Shortly after six o'clock, twenty night-shift guards relieved him, only half of them resisting the urge to roll their eyes upon seeing the Queen's mouth half ajar above her splayed bony limbs.

Then only ten minutes remained until ten o'clock. He watched the door, hoping that August didn't know where his chambers were, that somehow he hadn't received the instructions on "how to locate the Queen's Guard in an emergency" that every important magician received upon entering the government.

He wasn't so lucky.

August knocked lightly, like someone who knew the person he had come to see was waiting just behind the door. His confidence annoyed Siles enough that he counted sixty seconds before opening the door.

The waiting worked; Siles spotted a flash of nervousness before August adopted his usual cocky smile. Then August raised his arm in the fashion of a suitor inviting a lady to a dance, "Care to join me, Sir Shadow?"

Siles brushed past him. His mockery only emphasized the information he held above Siles' head like a guillotine. August was unfazed as usual, latching onto Siles arm and pulling him through the castle corridors to the street below. Three Sheets was a posh restaurant-bar just outside the castle walls, about a five-minute walk away. August talked the entire time, glancing over at Siles every few minutes as if he could see through the mask whether he was listening.

"You'll like the others. You know some of them, maybe all of them. I think they're nice, at least. It's hard to tell who you like and dislike with that mask of yours, though you obviously have a soft spot for squealing servants." August said the last two words like a child repeating something they had heard their parents say, the intonation too askew to give the words their intended meaning. He continued in a less confident tone, "Do try to talk a little. When you're at the dinner at least. It'll give them the feeling that you're on their side. My side."

So the dinner was a power move. Siles didn't see why August bothered, not when he could easily bring everyone to his side with his mind tricks. August would be the next king, it was as sure as fact. But at least if he did what August asked, he would be on the winning side. That was all that really mattered.

"I'll try," Siles said.

Three Sheets stood before them, the paper lanterns that hung from its gutters swaying in the wind, perfectly on beat with the lounge music leaking from within. They had a wind magician on staff. August led Siles through the crowd within, finally releasing his arm so Siles could follow without the restriction of his grip. There was no need to shove their way through the packed restaurant; in the formerly loud and joyous ambiance, silence followed Siles like a plague. Stares followed him too, nervous and angry and suspicious, but for once the same stares followed the magician with him.

August ignored them, instead breaking into a forced smile when he opened the doors to the room reserved at the back of the restaurant. "Hello! Thank you all for coming."

Twelve people waited around the long mahogany table, the glass chandelier above them shining light onto their nervous expressions. Siles recognized two of them from the Council, for once not clad in blue cloaks. The others he recognized too, each of them high-ranking and similarly dressed to impress the young man ahead of Siles. He hadn't seen a group of people so terrified since Queen Samira had decided to show up to a Council meeting a few years back.

Except unlike the Queen, August seemed desperate to please. "I hope you all won't mind that I invited the Queen's Shadow to join us."

Siles nodded to them, smiling under his mask as their expressions changed in unison. Some showed visible relief, while others became so nervous that they gripped the table for support. The relieved few believed that Siles could protect them from August's magic with his own immunity, which by his now-genuine smile was exactly what August had intended. Siles didn't understand why he cared.

After food had filled the table like a second tablecloth, even those whose fear nearly drove them from the room calmed down. Siles didn't eat – he always ate his meals in the privacy of his room, where he could remove his mask without observers – and instead sat back to listen to the conversations.

"How's your wife?" August asked one of the more nervous magicians.

The woman in question paused, her eyes wide as she considered the ramifications of her answer. "Fine?"

"Wonderful! And I heard you adopted a child recently. How's that going?"

She paused again, glancing desperately at the magicians around her for help. "Fine?"

August took a swig straight from the wine bottle next to him. As much as Siles found August's attempts at interaction entertaining, the sight of the familiar alcoholic crutch made him think of the Queen. He hated the Queen.

"Does the kid have magic or was it a normal orphanage adoption?" Siles asked.

The woman wasn't one of those who found his presence comforting, yet her frozen expression melted a little at his question. "He has magic. He came from a family of commoners, but he's young enough that he won't remember them." Her name was Priscah, if he remembered correctly.

"Wonderful," Siles said. He ignored August's relieved expression. "What's his name?"

"James. My wife and I wanted to change it to something more interesting, but he's old enough that he doesn't answer to anything else." Priscah was comfortable enough, now, to take a bite of the crab leg on her plate and chew as she spoke.

"Maybe you could give him a nickname to go by. Kids take to nicknames more naturally than name changes," Siles said.

She nodded, following the crab leg with a sip of wine. "That's actually a good idea. Do you have kids?"

Siles almost laughed, before he remembered he was trying to be polite. "No. But I go by a nickname if you hadn't noticed."

Priscah smiled. "Right. The Shadow." Upon saying the name, she seemed to remember who she was talking to and grew pale.

"What's your real name, anyway?" August asked, and almost the entire table stopped talking. They were curious, too.

"Can't tell you. I use it when I go out unmasked."

August shook his head. "Of course the person I can't read the mind of would have so many secrets. Such a shame." The reminder of his power drew the anxiety back into the room like a static cloud. August visibly wilted.

An agonizing two minutes later, the conversations resumed around them as August pretended to be interested in his plate and Siles tried to muffle a yawn without reaching beneath his mask to cover his mouth. For the first time, August's fascination with him made sense. He was the only person August could hold a conversation with, since he was the only person whose mind he couldn't read. It was almost pitiful that a man so powerful would be so desperate for friends. Siles had none, and it had never presented any problems.

"Are you tired?" August asked.

So his yawn-muffling had been unsuccessful. August didn't wait for an answer, and Siles didn't give one. "Want to walk back?" August asked, quietly so the others wouldn't hear.

Siles nodded, and August immediately broke into his beaming, fake smile. "Thank you all for coming! The dinner is paid for, and I look forward to working with all of you in the future." He raised his glass and they all joined in, united in the common social custom despite their fear.

Then August fled, and Siles went with him. He had drunk more than Siles had realized, since he had to lean on Siles to stay upright. Siles dealt with it, periodically shoving August upright to give his shoulder a rest. At their pace, the walk back would take longer than the usual five minutes.

Given August's inevitable election, Siles realized he would have to spend a lot of time with the socially awkward wreck of a man in the future. But unlike the Queen, August showed great potential for entertainment.

"Tell me what they're thinking," Siles said.

"Who?" August squinted at him in the dark, once again searching for a face that wasn't visible.

"Anyone." Siles waved at the figures shuffling through the darkness around them. The city that circled the castle had an active nightlife, though not a particularly interesting one.

August nodded slowly, then waved haphazardly at the man to their left. "He's thinking about how he wanted to shave this morning but overslept. He thinks that's why the lady he met at the bar didn't want to sleep with him." Then his arm swept over to point to a woman down the street. "She's ranking foods in her head. She's thinking as if she's having an interview with a journalist and she's some famous chef." Then his arm swept the road again, his pointer finger stopping at a window above the Bard's Inn. "Someone is dreaming about being elected Queen. She's having an interview, too, talking about what she did to reach where she is. A lot of people like to do that when they're bored, talking about themselves with themselves."

August would definitely be more interesting to talk to than the Queen. Siles dragged him back to the castle and up the stairs to the room August had said was the entrance to his chambers, amused by the man's utter helplessness. At least he knew now that August was unlikely to use his friendliness towards servants as blackmail.

"Wait," August said, just as Siles was about to leave for his own chambers. "We're friends, right?" His words slurred together like smudged ink in the rain.

Barely. Siles shrugged. "Sure."

"Thank you."

"Good night."

Siles shut the door quietly. The castle was usually silent at night. Siles didn't stay up late often, given how early he had to wake to accompany the Queen in her drinking, but he knew that it was supposed to be quiet. Yet as he followed the staircase to his chambers, the sounds of muffled bootfalls and shouting echoed through the stone from the floors below. He ignored it – he wasn't on duty – and continued onward to his doorway.

Unfortunately, a member of the night guard waited for him there. But fortunately, he brought good news.

"The Queen is dead."