He didn't want to; the walls of his chambers protected him from the dangers of the outside world, like awkward conversations and the horror that had crossed Siles' face a few days earlier. He didn't have much choice, however, unless he wanted his political efforts to go to waste.

August stared into the crackling fireplace, breathing in the smell of smoky wood, warm and comforting unlike the cold, damp hallways that waited outside his door. He imagined the servants looked down upon him by now. They had seen him cocooned in blankets as he played chess wordlessly with himself. He imagined his eyes were still red. They still burned when he blinked, the occasional salty drop sliding down from their corners. His hair had slicked into limp tentacles, hanging lifelessly around his face. He didn't want Siles to see him like this, but he didn't have time to do anything about it. He had to go.

August knew he was being dramatic, that his emotions were irrational and disproportionate. He hated himself for it, and for the weakness it made him feel. His previous breakups hadn't made him nearly as miserable, and they had been actual breakups. Siles hadn't even dated him in the first place.

Except Siles was the only one August could trust to trust him. Everybody else watched him with that look in their eye, that cautious curiosity and suspicion. Did they like August, or was he controlling their minds, persuading them to see beauty where reality would have seen monstrosity? It didn't matter if he told them he would never touch their thoughts. There was no way to prove that which could be erased through mind control. Of course, he could have made them trust him, but such an act would have tainted the relationship and made it ingenuine, even if only in the smallest of ways.

And now he was alone again. Siles would still stand by his side, of course, but not as a friend. August's only other chance at friendship would have been the girl whose face matched his own, but he had been too eager to confirm the truth of their kinship and he had scared her away, just like Siles.

Regardless, he had to leave. August shed his warm cocoon of blankets, shrugging a cloak over his disheveled clothes. The Council's weekly meeting was today. They would all know of August's misery by now. He had seen them slip silver into servants' hands; no news went unspoken when a servant's ears were present. If he didn't go to the meeting, they would slip new policies behind his back, erasing all of his efforts and Siles'. The Queen had ignored the Council since her interests and theirs had aligned. August could not afford to do the same.

Cold air rushed through the entry the moment August opened the door. He pulled his cloak closer and stepped into the hall, glancing to his right for Siles. Who wasn't there. Several daytime guards stood in Siles' place, each of them looking down when August glanced their way. August cleared his thraot. "Is the Royal Guard unwell?"

The guards glanced at each other, none of them willing to speak until the woman in the middle finally answered, "The Royal Guard has taken a few days of leave to examine possible unrest in the commoner towns, your highness."

August breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't love Siles' habit of running away, as it could develop into the decision to leave permanently someday. His skillset was welcome in any kingdom, even if he chose bookbinding over battle. This time, however, August was grateful for the time to piece himself back together.

The Councilmembers, on the other hand, made no attempt to give August space. They smiled when he entered the room, their smiles growing wider when his cohort of guards followed him instead of Siles. August had become painfully aware of the fact that Siles was the only reason for their respect when Siles had left the first time. In his absence, the Councilmembers made no effort to mask their hatred for him, ignoring his presence completely unless he raised his voice. He was too nervous to raise his voice without Siles there to support him.

He could, however, veto laws so long as he knew that they existed. So August smiled back as he settled into his chair, nodding to the new head of the Council to begin the meeting.

"Your highness, thank you for joining us," Amanda said dryly. "You look well."

"I feel fantastic," August rasped, his voice still hoarse from tears. He winced.

The corner of Amanda's mouth twitched upwards. She was younger than Anna, but their mutual hunger for power made them twins in August's eyes. "How wonderful. Let's begin. The agenda for today is progress. We appear to have flatlined on that front since you took power."

"I would say we've taken several large steps backwards," June added, like a well-trained sidekick.

August glanced at the Councilmembers he had elected after the six mutineers had departed. They all shared his interest in commoner welfare – he was confident in this fact after searching their thoughts – but he appeared to have chosen people too much like himself; they were nervous, passive, and quiet. They wanted to act according to the interests of the people they believed had elected them, that being the magician community as a whole. Nobody but the monarch knew that the election was rigged and always had been.

"I would have to agree with you," Amanda replied, a little too loudly as if she was acting out a script of her hatred for August. "Our tax income has dropped considerably, while our expenses have gone up to pay for commoner programs." She spat the second to last word in August's direction.

If Siles had been present, he would have pointed out the long-term benefits of the new tax scheme or made the Council feel ashamed for the undeveloped economy that had resulted from suppressing commoner education. The neighboring kingdoms' commoners had produced spectacular inventions, but August couldn't remember any of them. He couldn't remember any of his points with Amanda's glare bearing down on him.

Amanda continued, "I do have a solution in mind, however. One that wouldn't get in the way of a certain someone's pet projects. The Southern Kingdom recently warned us not to send traders their way, as a sickness has spread within their borders. They're at their weakest, making it the perfect time to strike. We can expand our borders and compensate for the recent financial losses."

For the first time since he had elected them, one of August's choices for the Council spoke up, "Wouldn't that make our soldiers sick and weaken our own kingdom?"

Amanda beamed. "I'm glad you asked. I propose that, since the commoners so desperately want to be equal to us, we recruit them to battle. They can be soldiers, just like the lower magicians, though of course we won't send the lower magicians into infectious territory."

August paused everyone. He didn't do this kind of thing often since people started to notice when they lost time, but he needed time to think. He stared at the table, avoiding looking at the Councilmembers' eyes as they stared into nothingness. The swords of the guards behind August clicked against the walls in their scabbards as the guards swayed in place. August leaned back in his chair.

He knew why he didn't want to go to war, but it wasn't a thought he could implant in the others' minds without them knowing it didn't belong there. Nobody else cared whether the commoners died – not the Councilmembers who spoke up at least. The thought of a deadly sickness, on the other hand, made everyone concerned. The thought had worried one of the quiet Councilmembers enough to make them speak up for once. Then there was the fact that magicians would have to lead the commoners into battle, placing the magician community at risk if those magicians brought the disease back with them.

August nodded to himself. It would have to do. He placed the latter two thoughts into the others' minds – except Amanda's, since she had developed a firm opinion already – and leaned forward in his chair again, adopting the position he had been in before the pause.

Their minds continued. Amada beamed at them, expecting unanimous agreement among the Councilmembers, while the others contemplated their new thoughts.

"I think we might want to wait for the sickness to run its course," June said, smiling apologetically at Amanda. "That way there's no risk of the disease coming back to us."

Amanda's smile dropped. "But that's why we're only going to send the commoners."

Another Councilmember interjected, "But we'll also have to send some lower magicians to lead them, and the lower magicians are going to come home to the Royal City. We might win the war, but if they come back sick, we're going to get sick too."

"And we can always invade after the sickness has finished devastating their kingdom. It'll give us even more of an advantage that way, and I'm sure we won't have to wait too long," June added.

Just long enough for Siles to return and help him regain control of the Council, August hoped. He appeared to have won this time, however. Amanda huffed and crossed her arms. "Alright. We'll wait. But the moment I receive news that the quarantine is over, we need to move."

With her battle lost, Amanda ended the meeting. The others stood slowly, chattering amongst themselves, but August immediately fled back up the stairs to his quarters. He knew his continued consciousness would be fleeting. Pausing minds, especially such a large group of minds, was an exhausting task. Contrary to popular belief, the human mind enjoyed thinking, so stopping the flow of thought was like trying to dam a lake with parchment paper. August reached his chambers just in time to collapse onto his bed.

Never mind emotional recovery time. August needed Siles to return soon.