White marble framed the exterior like a blocky picture frame, stained black with smoke and chipped from the room's past tenants. The servants hadn't cleaned it in years, so without the fire it looked like a window to the night, even as daylight crept through the adjacent window. In August's chambers, the fireplace wore a green marble frame. Siles had spent enough time sitting in front of it to notice that its carvings told a story, as the little marble lion grew up and faced the monsters that plagued him, even as they grew with him.

But Siles' fireplace told no such story, unless the smoke-stained whiteness represented a holy kingdom's descent into sin. Siles stared at the stains, trying in vain to see shapes within their darkness. He had fallen asleep in front of the fire upon his return to the castle. The fire had since gone cold, but the sweet smell of burnt cedar still perfumed the air. He didn't want to get up, even as his back began to ache from the unforgiving stone floor.

He turned his gaze to the ceiling. Its cracks and crevices provided just as much entertainment as the smoke stains had. He had no idea how long he had been asleep. He didn't know whether the soldiers in Amery had truly realized who he was. He didn't know whether Sonia and her followers would cause more trouble. He knew nothing.

Except Siles did know, he just didn't want to. He had been asleep too long, and should have dragged himself off the floor hours ago. He would know whether the soldiers had recognized him as soon as he spoke to the magicians. And Sonia and her followers would certainly cause more trouble, because she was a hard headed brat. None of the answers were the ones he wanted to hear.

They were all his own fault. He had chosen to run away from his problems, and now he had to reap the consequences. He could only hope that his misadventure had given August the time to return to normal. Or close to normal. Or at least friendly. The thought of August hating him somehow terrified Siles more than the thought of August loving him.

He didn't want to think about it.

Siles dragged himself to his feet, pausing to look out the window. Snow had returned to the castle grounds just when he had thought spring had come to stay. Everything was becoming worse. He was beginning to miss the Queen. He had hated her, but at least she hadn't made him question his own sanity.

Siles washed up and got dressed. The more he waited, the more anxious he would become. He would have to face August eventually.

He checked August's quarters first, but no guards stood outside the door. Siles took that as a good sign; August had to have gotten over the rejection somewhat if he had finally left his room. He checked the throne room next, strolling into the room just as August moved towards the opposite door.

"Is there a Council meeting today?" Siles asked. He waved August's day guards away, taking their place by August's side.

August kept walking. "Yes."

Siles glanced sideways at August, but his expression was stoic. The sorrow must have turned to anger while he was away. Siles understood. He hadn't given August a polite rejection; he hadn't given him an answer at all. Or maybe it wasn't anger. August's expression was unreadable; he could be holding back tears. Siles didn't know which was worse; all he knew was that he was to blame. He found himself mirroring August, each of them staring straight ahead.

They reached the room just as the Councilmembers reached their seats. The new head of the Council watched Siles cautiously as he entered. She was a weather magician, which normally would have prevented her from moving up the ranks. Weather magicians dealt in crops and fancy restaurants, not politics. However, Amanda happened to be capable of conjuring lightning wherever and whenever she wished, generating sparks of static electricity to intimidate her foes. She hadn't been one of August's picks, but unfortunately, only senior Councilmembers could lead the Council.

"I heard you had a bit of a run-in with the peasants," Amanda said to Siles. She didn't acknowledge August.

"You are supposed to bow to your King when he enters," Siles replied. He rested his hand on his holstered knife. If August was going to be miserable, Siles could at least ensure that he received some respect.

The unspoken threat worked; the Councilmembers rose from their seats and bowed their heads. They waited for August to sit, then sat once again. The corner of August's mouth curved up in a smile, but he looked between Amanda and Siles with a curious expression. The news probably hadn't reached him yet.

Siles continued, "I encountered a small rebellion in Amery. They appear to have sent spies to the Royal City, so I would suggest that we take their leaders in for questioning. If the King wishes it."

August raised an eyebrow. "You didn't get rid of the rebellion yourself?"

Siles phrased his response carefully; he didn't know how much the Council already knew. "Well, I typically suppress rebellions by turning their members against each other. That unfortunately won't work in this case because they appear to have figured out who I am."

Amanda stared at his mask with the same expression August wore when he was imagining the face beneath it. "You're the royal bookbinder."

Siles suppressed a sigh of disappointment. They knew. "Yes." He was beginning to wish that he had slept through the meeting, but even that wouldn't have prevented the news from reaching the Council.

August pointed to his mask with a raised eyebrow. "What's the point of this, then?"

Siles ran a finger along the bottom edge of the mask. Every Councilmember watched him intently, even the many who feared him. He knew the anonymity of the mask was half of the reason for their fear. He didn't have a frightening face. He didn't even have a beard to make himself look older, as it brushed against the mask when he failed to shave.

"I suppose there isn't a point," Siles finally said. He removed the mask.

August smiled.

Amanda frowned. "You look very young," she said. Most of the Councilmembers including herself were in their forties and fifties.

Siles nodded. "That would be correct."

"But you worked for the Queen for so long." Amanda looked baffled, but not amused. Siles noted with satisfaction that the Councilmembers looked just as tense with his mask off as they had when it was on.

"I was recruited at a young age." Siles glanced at August. The stoic expression had returned. He changed the topic to move the meeting along. "But as for more important matters, do I have permission to send soldiers to retrieve the rebel leaders?"

August nodded. His gaze remained fixed on a point beyond Amanda's head.

Amanda cleared her throat, recognizing that Siles had no intention of speaking more about his bookbinding half. "With that addressed, thank you both for joining us. Today, I wanted to discuss training for the commoners. If we're going to conquer the South, we will need our soldiers to be prepared to fight the moment the quarantine ends."

Siles frowned. He had heard about the sickness in the Southern Kingdom, but had thought nothing of the matter. August wasn't a war king, so the matters of other kingdoms should have only affected commerce. Siles wanted to argue with Amanda, but waited for August to speak. He didn't want to make him look like a puppet king, following his Guard's every whim.

August rubbed his chin as if in thought, then glanced at the Councilmember to his left. She cleared her throat the moment his eyes landed on her, as if his glance had inspired her to speak.

"Shouldn't we figure out what happened with the Amery rebellion first?" she asked. "If they have been spying on us, giving them weapons training could put us in greater danger."

August nodded. "I think that would be a wiser course of action. As much as I believe in commoner education, educating them on battle tactics could end badly for us. The commoners deserve fair treatment, but they don't deserve to lead the kingdom." The other members of the Council nodded as he spoke, a stark contrast with the shouting arguments that usually developed around such divisive topics.

Siles covered his mouth to hide a smile. The timing and unified agreement could mean only one thing; August was adjusting their thoughts. It was a relief, even if August didn't look too happy about it.

Amanda glared at them. August had clearly made no attempt to interfere with her thoughts, otherwise the vein in the center of her forehead wouldn't have been pulsing with rage. "I'm the last person to want the commoners to be in power," she assured them all with a clenched jaw. However, she didn't appear to have prepared a retort for an argument which made her look like a peasant sympathizer. She instead switched topics, addressing the taxes on trade with the other kingdoms.

Siles didn't pay attention to the rest of the meeting. Distracting himself made it easier to maintain an indifferent expression, as he no longer had a mask to hide the emotions that crossed his face. He periodically stared at each member of the Council, suppressing a satisfied smile when they squirmed in their seats. He imagined he would be able to maintain the same level of respect without his mask so long as he learned new techniques to inspire fear.

After the meeting, August headed back to his quarters - Siles had slept through the time of day for throne room duty. They walked silently, with Siles a few steps behind instead of walking by August's side as he had before. Once they reached August's quarters, Siles assumed his position by the door. He hoped the silence would be more bearable with the door between them.

Except August had other ideas. His hand latched on Siles' arm and pulled him through the doorway. Siles was too surprised to fight back, instead stumbling into the room. August shut the door behind him and headed to the chairs by the fireplace. As he sat, he looked back to where Siles stood by the door.

"Well, come on. Sit down."

Siles edged forward and sat cautiously on the edge of the second chair, his heart thudding in his chest. He had been less nervous when the commoners had surrounded him at the inn, though he was accustomed to those kinds of situations. Siles stared at the marble monsters bordering the fireplace and tapped the mask still clutched in his right hand. He scrambled for something to say. "You're doing great with the Council. They don't seem to recognize your little adjustments."

August nodded, his face blurry in the edge of Siles' vision. He leaned forward, forcing himself into focus. Siles leaned back.

"Are we not talking about it, then?" August asked. He spoke softly, as if Siles was the fragile one.

Siles stopped tapping the mask, setting it down on the small table between the two chairs. "Is there much else to say?" he replied.

"That's what I mean." August sighed with exasperation. "You never said anything. Obviously, walking out would be a 'no,' but that doesn't tell me anything about what we're going to be."

Siles looked at August's face. His cheeks had become sunken, shadows circling his eyes where there had been none before. Siles had seen his own face in the morning; he knew he didn't look much better. He had liked life more when he hadn't had any friends at all. At least he knew what August wanted to hear. It was what he wanted, too.

"We're still friends, aren't we?" Siles asked.

"Of course." August's smile didn't reach his eyes.

Siles had killed so many people during the height of Queen Samira's reign that he no longer remembered their faces, and yet he had never felt more guilty than he did now.

So he hugged him. August's sofa chair barely fit the two of them, but Siles didn't know what else to do. It just happened. The next thing he remembered was August resting his head on his shoulder. They stayed that way, too close for comfort, and yet it felt comforting. Nothing made sense anymore.

He started to think ahead, of course, devising a plan to explain to August after the fact that any fashion of intimate embrace would not be acceptable at any point in the future, that it was a one-time occurrence which only occurred because of the unique circumstances of August's misery. He wouldn't say anything about it until August felt better, though. Siles had already rejected him; August had to know that the hug didn't mean anything, not in that way at least.