The late Queen had spent most of her time there, so Siles typically guided August in that direction. He hadn't even realized how much it was his choice until August had remarked upon how much he hated the echoic space.

"I hate this room. What kind of person decides the best place for the throne is a massive empty chamber? It's giving me anti-claustrophobia, whatever that is."

"Then why do you come here?" Siles asked.

"Because you always go here."

The King was supposed to take initiative. He was the most powerful figure in the kingdom, after all. Siles hadn't even noticed that August followed him around like a dog. He would need to amend that behavior. So after that, Siles greeted him with a question when he relieved the night guards in the morning:

"Where would you like to go?" Siles asked.

"I don't know. The library, I guess."

At some point, he didn't remember when, Siles started to make requests again. August responded by lowering taxes and forming new government positions for the commoners to have a say in the way their taxes were used. He even implemented a law preventing the separation of magician children from their commoner parents. The Council didn't like it, but their opinions didn't matter so long as the citizens of the royal city didn't riot. The greatest fight between August and the Council broke out when Siles asked him to move some of the magician instructors to the commoner towns to teach the magician children who were now able to stay with their commoner parents. The Council had accepted it in the end, with the bitter comment that no magician would willingly instruct peasants.

Siles was impressed. August wasn't the type of person to argue with anyone, and he couldn't use his abilities to change the Councilmembers' minds unless he wanted to become more hated and feared than Queen Samira. Yet whenever Siles asked him to do something, he did it. He had even found magicians willing to instruct the commoner magicians. Many of them remembered the soldiers dragging them from their homes as children, it turned out.

They eventually moved from the library to August's quarters.

"I like it best here," August had explained. "I don't need to worry about the façade of professionalism since the servants can't come and go as they please."

Siles didn't say anything, but he regretted complaining about August's casual demeanor. August could change the mind of anyone who thought he was too soft, anyway. But it was too late, since Siles could no longer lead them to where he wanted to go. August had the most spacious quarters in the castle, at least.

August asked him to remove the mask a few days after they had moved their conversations to his quarters. "Nobody can see you but me. You have nothing to worry about. Besides, I hate talking to someone when I can't see their face."

Siles obliged. He always obliged, just like August always did what he asked of him. August simply made fewer requests than he did. Except Siles did as August asked because August's requests were the orders of a king.

August's quarters were nice in the wintertime, at least. The fireplace always burned and the chairs were more comfortable than the ones in the library. Siles enjoyed the fact that he could stare into the fire as they talked. It was almost hypnotic, and it let him avoid August's gaze. He always stared into Siles' eyes when his mask wasn't there to hide them. It was intimidating, in a way. Siles supposed that was a good thing, given that the King was supposed to command respect from his subjects.

Though August didn't stare at anyone else that way.

The fire twirled within August's fireplace, no longer reaching the heights it had danced to on the coldest days of winter. The ground was visible again, the grass surrounding the castle patchy and muddy despite the best efforts of the earth magicians. Snow and water had always shaped the earth; magic couldn't change that. The soldiers that paced the grounds jerked their feet with every step, the squelch as they pulled their boots from the mud audible even from Siles' bedroom window. The battle between the boots and the ground had become his morning alarm clock.

"Where did the Queen send you when you went away every winter?" August asked.

Siles shivered at the thought of those icy treks. He supposed he should be grateful for August's uncomfortable stare. It was better than the missions the Queen had sent him on. "She made me spy on the neighboring kingdoms during the winter. Since winter is when they're at their weakest, she wanted to know just how weak they could get."

"So she had you scope out potential targets."

"Yeah." Siles had always hated winter because of those missions. "I used to be honest about it. Her invasions were entertaining, even if people died in the process. But it got old fast. Eventually I just told her that their armies were stronger than hers."

"Didn't she ever send anyone to check that you were telling the truth?"

"The extent to which she trusted me briefly made me wonder whether I had some kind of actual magic. But nobody else trusted me like that. I think it was just because I was one of the only people she ever talked to."

August stopped staring at him for once, turning his gaze to the fire, too. "You're the only person I talk to. Can I trust you?"

Siles paused to think. "You can trust me to protect you with my life."

"But will you always be honest with me?"

The wobble in August's voice made Siles glance around the room for wine bottles, but he saw none. August was one of the only men he knew who got emotional while sober. "Of course. I helped you get elected for a reason."

"Because we're friends, right?" August asked. He met Siles' eyes before he could look back at the fire.

"Yeah." Siles reluctantly held his gaze.

August leaned forward, lowering his voice to a whisper, "Can we be more than friends?"

Siles generally didn't feel fear. It made his job much easier, since he could focus when he fought and when he entered enemy territory with nothing but a dagger and a target. But August's question froze him solid, with the exception of a heart beating fast enough to make the blood rush in his ears. "What do you mean?" He could mean best friends. Siles had heard servants make the distinction when they spoke about their friends. The look in August's eyes already told him the answer, but he held out hope.

"Will you go out with me?" August smiled slightly, to soften the blow, but it didn't work.

Siles left. He nearly forgot his mask, but he made it out the door and down the hall. He turned back, of course. The night shift hadn't begun. But he remained outside the door of August's quarters. Close enough to hear if a scuffle broke out on the inside.

Close enough to hear August cry.