Making A Splash

  Chapter 15

  ■ ■ ■ ■

  “We kill the archbishop on our way out.”

  As soon as the words left his lips, Chad felt an irrational surge of doubt flare up inside him, before he immediately squashed it right back down. Between himself, Prince Mylo, and Alfonso, Chad actually seemed to be the only one surprised by his request. He expected at least one raised eyebrow between the pair, but Alfonso just looked calmly to Prince Mylo, and the prince just brought a hand to his chin in thought.

  “Mmh… I can certainly see why you would desire that,” Prince Mylo said, crossing his other arm over his chest, supporting his elbow as he turned and paced towards the window again. “Archbishop Havener is one of the strongest proponents for the continued push into new ways to… exploit demons for the Empire’s gain, which is to say nothing of what he, personally, is guilty of, and whatever you experienced in the short time you were in his custody…” Pausing at the window, the prince stood in silent contemplation for a long moment, before turning back to face Chad.

  “Very well. I accept your condition,” Prince Mylo said, and Chad’s brow furrowed.

  “Just like that?” Chad asked, glancing from the prince to Alfonso. If he were being completely honest, he thought there would be at least some resistance, some attempt to talk him back from the idea, but both men seemed completely unfazed.

  “It will require a modification to our current plan, for sure, but as long as he does not have all three of his demons at his back, his death should not be overly difficult to achieve,” Prince Mylo said, so matter-of-factly that Chad had to suppress a shudder.

  “Right, because you're some kind of super powerful demigod prince of a nation of warmongers,” Chad said, perhaps a bit too harshly, if the way Prince Mylo winced was any indication.

  “That is an… uncomfortably apt description, I am forced to admit,” Prince Mylo said, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Regardless, yes, dealing with the archbishop is not the main issue, but rather the attention it would draw. That, and, demons tend to make quite a mess when they fight, and he has three of them.”

  “Eh, yeah, about that,” Chad said, scrunching up one side of his face and frowning. “I'd kind of… prefer if we could do this without having to kill any of them.”

  “Kill?” Alfonso asked, sounding confused. “You mean without banishing them?”

  Oh, shit, right. Ruby mentioned that demons don't die in the mortal realm, they just go back to the Abyss. Clearing his throat, Chad nodded.

  “Yeah, that's what I meant,” Chad said, glancing towards the bookshelves again. He was such a miserable actor, and that extended to being a miserable liar, but he hoped Alfonso and the prince would just assume it was nerves.

  “Hmm, it would make the archbishop easier to deal with if we could dispatch one or two of his demons ahead of time,” Prince Mylo said.

  “Yeah, but…” Chad frowned, wracking his brain for an actual reason they shouldn't other than the emotional impulse that told him so.

  “If they get banished,” Chad began, holding up a hand. “There's a chance they could end up summoned again by someone else in the Empire. I… I want to try and give them a chance to get away, too.”

  It was such a weak argument in Chad’s ears. There was also a chance they could get summoned outside of the Empire too, he was fully aware of that. He just didn't like the idea of hurting any of those three to get to the archbishop, but he couldn't just say that.

  Again, the expected resistance never came.

  “I understand,” Prince Mylo said, and Chad jumped, because he had moved back to the side of the bed while Chad was glaring off into the far corners of the room. “We will make adjustments to the plan.”

  “Uh, thanks,” Chad muttered and, deciding he'd spent far too long lounging on the prince's bed, slid off onto the floor, experimentally testing his weight on his legs. It seemed like that zap hadn’t done any lingering damage, but he still moved slowly as he stepped away from the bed, moving to the center of the room. As he did so, another question occurred to him, one he probably should have asked much earlier.

  “You know, Prince Mylo,” Chad began, but paused when said prince let out a melodic chuckle.

  “You don't have to continue referring to me as ‘Prince.’ We're planning to commit treason and assassinate an archbishop together, I think we can dispense with the formalities,” he said, cocking his head and smirking.

  “Eh, alright… Mylo,” Chad said warily, starting to pace in front of the bed. “That's kind of what I want to talk about. You're showing me a, frankly, ridiculous amount of trust right now.” Holding up a hand, Chad wiggled his fingers, willing a small ball of fire into existence, and just as quickly letting it disperse into the air. “Hell, you took those cuffs off before you had any reason to believe I wouldn’t try to attack you again, or just set your bed on fire or something.” Stopping once he reached the same spot he'd started from, Chad fixed Mylo with a firm stare. “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but I can't help but wonder why.”

  “I have been asking the exact same thing,” Alfonso said, turning to Mylo as well. “I said we ought to at least leave the adamantite cuffs in place until we knew you were amenable, but Mylo said that would render your answer unreliable.”

  “I hardly thought it necessary, after that display in the park.” Chad narrowed his eyes even further. Was he calling him weak?! “And,” Mylo said, holding up a finger before Chad could decide to make something out of it. “I wanted you to wake up comfortable and unrestrained, as an early show of trust. As for why I have chosen to extend that trust to you so readily, well…” The prince trailed off, glancing towards the window again. “I have my reasons.”

  Chad followed the prince’s gaze. Standing up now, he could see that outside the window there was actually a balcony. There was a table out there, and a pair of chairs, and tucked into one corner, a large, ornate telescope, pointed at the sky.

  Chad’s eyes widened, and he whirled back around to face the prince.

  “You knew?!” he demanded, and Alfonso rose from his seat to place himself between Chad and Mylo. “You knew I was going to show up here, is that it? Are you the reason I'm even here in the first place?!”

  “Calm yourself, demon!” Alfonso shouted back at Chad, one hand now hovering over the handle of the sword at his hip. Chad growled and spread his legs, dropping into a ready stance, both hands erupting into flame.

  “Stop fuckin’ calling me that!” Chad roared, cocking one arm back behind his head, ready to hurl a fireball at each of their stupid faces. Alfonso started to draw his sword, but Mylo moved quicker, darting over to his bed and grabbing the top layer of blankets, yanking them off in one fluid motion and hurling them at Chad, just as he flung his arm forward. The ball of fire hit the blanket, which promptly didn't burst into flames. Rather, it seemed like the fire itself was drawn into the fabric, dissipating without so much as a puff of smoke.

  “What the—mmf!” was all Chad got out before the flying mass of bedding collided with him, instantly enveloping him and plunging his vision into darkness. Before he had time to react, Chad felt something else tackle him to the ground. His impact was somewhat muffled by the thick blankets, but he still landed hard, flat on his back, with a heavy weight on top of his chest.

  “What the fuck are you doing?!” Chad shouted while he thrashed and kicked and clawed to either find or make an opening in the blankets, but the fabric was just too thick, and heavy, and worst of all any fire he tried to conjure up was immediately snuffed right back out.

  “It is my understanding that one of the quickest ways to extinguish an out of control flame is to smother it,” Mylo said, his voice coming from the other side of the blankets, and Chad's whole body went rigid.

  Out of control, huh? He’d heard that before, mostly from his mother to his father, but only once before had it been directed at him, and he never wanted to repeat that moment.

  Grumbling incoherently, Chad let some of his anger bleed off, taking as deep a breath as he could manage from within the blankets.

  “Prince Mylo,” Chad said pointedly. “Are you sitting on top of me?”

  “I am, yes,” Mylo said, so cool and calm that it made Chad want to scream.

  For several long moments, a storm of utterly awful thoughts raged inside Chad’s mind, and he had to fight not to give voice to them. Prince Mylo was definitely not sitting on him for any reason other than to put an early end to his would-be rampage.

  That didn't make him any less pissed off, though.

  “Can you fucking get off?” Chad asked with a growl, but the prince just chuckled.

  “That depends. If I do, will you actually listen to what I have to say, or will you attempt to set my bedroom ablaze again?”

  That was an excellent question. One that even Chad himself didn’t have a concrete answer to. Lying on his back, breathing heavily in the increasingly suffocating confines of the prince’s blankets, he could look back on his outburst and realize that he had perhaps jumped to a few conclusions. Nothing new there, he supposed.

  “Fine,” Chad said, as calmly as he could. “Just let me out of here before I pass out.”

  Wordlessly, he felt Mylo’s weight shift as he climbed off of him, and then fresh, cool air on his face as the blankets were pulled away. He sat up, taking a deep breath while Mylo tossed the blankets back onto the bed in a heap. Alfonso was standing by, his sword thankfully sheathed, looking down at Chad with a wary expression.

  “Ugh,” Chad grunted, throwing his hands up and hanging his head. “I’m sorry, alright? You might’ve noticed, but I’ve got… anger issues. I’m actually trying to work on them now, but the shit I’ve had to put up with since coming here is a bit more extreme than what I had to deal with back home, and this whole place seems like it was designed to piss me off.”

  That didn’t seem to fully satisfy Alfonso, but his expression did soften a little, and his stance relaxed ever so slightly.

  “Your apology is accepted,” Mylo said, walking around from behind him and placing one of his small hands on Alfonso’s chest, urging him to step back, then turning and offering the other hand to Chad. “Believe me, I’m familiar with those sorts of issues. You saw what my sister did to the archbishop, did you not?”

  “Yeah, but that asshole deserved it,” Chad said sourly, waving off the offered hand and pushing himself to his hooves on his own. “Not to say you haven’t probably done some shit in your lifetime, but you haven’t done anything to me, at least. Unless you did have something to do with me ending up here?”

  “I did not,” Mylo said, withdrawing his hand smoothly and tucking it behind his back. “But I did have some foreknowledge of your arrival.”

  “What?” Chad asked, jerking back in surprise.

  “What?” Alfonso asked, at exactly the same time. Mylo chuckled, holding up his hands to forestall both of them.

  “Patience, patience,” Mylo said, patting Alfonso’s upper arm. “All will become clear in a moment, I believe. For starters, I think it would be best to establish one crucial fact before we proceed.” Turning to face Chad, the prince cocked his head and asked, “You were not summoned to this plane from the Abyss, were you?”

  “Nope,” Chad said, crossing his arms over his bare chest. “But that ain’t even the half of it. I’m not from this world, period. I came from a planet called Earth, and I have no fuckin’ clue why or how I got here.”

  Again, that seemed to shock Alfonso, but Mylo just looked more and more intrigued.

  “And this ‘Earth’ world,” Mylo began, tilting his head to one side and rolling his eyes up to the ceiling, as though struggling to recall a nearly forgotten bit of information. “It is a world where magic and monsters are only spoken of in legends, yes?”

  “M-my prince?” Alfonso said, staring down at the shorter man in clear bewilderment, and for once Chad found himself in the same boat as the knight.

  “That’s… right,” Chad said, furrowing his brow and narrowing his eyes. “How do you know that?”

  Mylo let out a chuckle and held his hands up, shrugging. “I’ve read about it. The records are kept well out of reach of even the most accomplished scholars in the Empire, but I am a prince, and I like to read. There are tales, legends and half-truths, stories about remarkable figures woven throughout the tapestry of history who claim to have come to this world from a world beyond, completely unlike our own. Because there has never been a single recorded occurrence inside the Empire, most scholars consider them a fantasy, a flight of fancy dreamed up by the lesser races, but to those few who believe they exist, they are known as ‘Outsiders.’”

  As the prince’s explanation unfolded and the full implications became clear, Chad’s head began to swim, and he found himself stumbling to the side, grabbing one of the posts of the prince’s bed and lowering himself down onto the edge of the mattress, holding his head in one hand.

  This had happened before? Enough times for there to be myths about people from Earth coming to this world, enough times for there to be records kept in history books? Did that mean there were possibly other people out there somewhere, right now, in the exact same situation as him?

  But wait, there was still one thing that that didn’t explain.

  “In these stories, are all these Outsiders human?” Chad asked, looking up in time to see Mylo shake his head.

  “No,” he said, again lifting his gaze in thought. “They run the gamut from humans to elves, to orcs, trolls, and dwarves, and beyond. Goblins, beastkin, seafolk, and so on. The only pattern in terms of species is that there is no pattern to be found in those who claim to have been Outsiders. Many accounts do contain references to having once been human, but having come to accept their new forms as improvements over their previous, if their authors are to be believed.”

  “So then why the fuck am I a demon?!” Chad shouted, gripping the bedpost and hauling himself to his hooves. “In what way is this supposed to be an improvement?!”

  Just as quickly as his anger came, his rationality swooped back in and forced him back down onto the bed, head in his hands, trying to calm himself again. These two weren’t to blame, and Prince Mylo was actually trying to help him understand his situation. He knew that was true, but it didn’t make him want to lash out at the short, pretty-faced young man any less.

  He needed a distraction. Other than taking it out on the field, Chad knew only one other surefire way to channel his anger.

  Turning his head, Chad looked at the mess that had been made of Prince Mylo’s bed, with the blankets heaped in a big pile on top and the sheets and pillows disturbed, likely from his earlier nap.

  “Are you just gonna leave it like this?” Chad asked, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder.

  “Uh… pardon?” Mylo asked, blinking in confusion at the sudden shift in topic.

  “Your bed,” Chad elaborated. “It’s a mess.”

  “Ah,” Mylo furrowed his brow, turning his head and considering the bed like he’d forgotten it was even there. “I’m not certain what you mean. One of the maids will be around to tidy up shortly after we leave.”

  “Psh,” Chad scoffed, shaking his head. “Can’t even make up your own bed, can you?” he asked, rising to his hooves and cracking his knuckles. Alfonso, alarmed, threw an arm in front of the prince, but Chad just snorted derisively and ignored them both, turning around and facing the bed. It was definitely the biggest bed he’d ever seen, but that didn’t mean the same principles didn’t apply.

  With one smooth motion, Chad yanked the blankets and the rest of the sheets off the bed, turning and dumping them on top of one of the oversized armchairs beside the bookshelves. Next, he went back for the pillows, piling them up in his arms and dropping them into another chair. That left only a thin sheet over the mattress, which Chad could now tell was basically an overstuffed sack sewn into a rectangular shape, recessed into the wooden bedframe. Interesting, but not important. Working from one corner to the other, he smoothed the mattress cover out, tucking the corners in tight, then went back to the pile of bedding.

  He was dimly aware of Prince Mylo and Alfonso watching him out of the corners of his vision, but they weren’t important right now either. Untangling the bedsheets from the blankets, Chad shook them out into the air and then carried them back to the bad, spreading them flat on top of the mattress and once again working from one corner of the bed to the other, tucking and folding and smoothing until the fabric lay flat. The blankets came next, and provided a bit more of a challenge to work with because of how heavy they were, but Chad was still easily able to drape them over the half-made bed and repeat the same process of tucking them into place.

  Finally, he collected up the pillows and brought them back to the bed, briefly fluffing them and smoothing the silken covers before arranging them against the headboard in his best approximation of the proper order. If you asked Chad, six pillows was a bit much, but hey, he wasn’t a prince.

  Standing back and admiring his work, Chad took a deep, steady breath, feeling more calm and at ease than he could ever recall since coming to this world. He didn’t know why it worked, but ever since he was younger, and was forced to take over much of the household chores for… reasons he didn’t feel like thinking about at the moment, certain tasks worked a treat for helping him calm down when he was feeling stressed or particularly pissed off. It was ironic, he always thought, that despite his father’s reliance on him completing all those tasks lest their house become a literal garbage heap full of empty cans and dirty dishes, that didn’t stop him from decrying things like cooking, cleaning, and doing the laundry as “woman’s work.”

  “There, see?” Chad asked sardonically, turning back to the now-seated Mylo and Alfonso. “Was that so fuckin’ hard?”

  “What… has just happened, my prince?” Alfonso asked sidelong to Mylo, his brow furrowed deeply.

  “I am not certain,” Mylo said, also scrutinizing Chad in a way that did not match up with the simple task he’d just performed. “I knew it was possible, but so suddenly…”

  “What?” Chad demanded, motioning towards the bed. “You never seen someone make a bed before? Why’re you lookin’ at me like I grew a second head?”

  At his words, both Alfonso and Prince Mylo’s eyes moved in unison, breaking eye contact to flick downward for the briefest moment, before coming back up. The only difference was that Alfonso turned his head after that, averting his gaze entirely, and was Chad crazy, or were his ears flushing red?

  “Okay, what’re you—”

  Chad looked down, not really sure what he was expecting to see other than his own demonically altered body, and in a way, that is exactly what he saw. But where before his skin was a rich, deep purple, it had somehow brightened in shade and changed color entirely, to a bright, cheerful, pastel pink.

  But that was actually the second thing Chad noticed.

  The first thing Chad noticed when he looked down was his chest.

  “Are those fucking tits?!”

  ■ ■ ■

  The rest of Mandy’s first day passed in relative peace. After stowing her hard-won profits from the card game, Mandy had returned to patrolling the ship in earnest, attempting to make casual contact with some more of the off-duty sailors, to… mixed results.

  The rank and file sailors were just too nervous around her to carry on any kind of proper conversation. Even when she tried to tell them they could relax, most of them just kept right on treating her like she was simultaneously the most famous person they’d ever met, and also a lit bomb that could go off at any minute. At least the so-called mages seemed interested in talking to her, but that proved fraught for a different reason. The topic of conversation was quickly steered towards magic, obviously, but where Mandy was hoping for “Magic 101,” the mages were almost immediately talking over her head about… well, fuck if she knew. Words like “mana currents” and “enchantment permeability” didn't mean squat to her, and while she could have asked them directly to start at the beginning, she feared that admitting to that level of ignorance might be suspicious, or even dangerous.

  I guess even in other worlds, nerds are still nerds, she thought after quickly excusing herself.

  With both plans a bust, and at a bit of a loss for what else to do with the rest of the day, Mandy decided to let her projection fade out, intending on spending the rest of the day just zoning out while gliding atop the waves. It was so simple, easy, and relaxing, like slipping into a trance, and she wound up staying like that throughout most of the night, stopping occasionally to appear on deck and look up at the stars. Letting herself go idle like that was probably the closest thing to sleep she was going to experience for the foreseeable future. That should have been a sobering realization, but it seemed like nothing could make a dent in her mood while she was lost in the joy of speeding along towards her destination.

  She didn't fully reemerge from the boat until several hours after sunrise the next day, when a slight commotion drew her attention to the helm. Captain Vittorio, who had just taken back the helm from the late night crew, raised his head as a lookout called out to him.

  “Captain!” The man shouted from the crows nest, still holding a spyglass to one eye. “We've got a beastkin approaching fast; some kind of bird.”

  All heads turned towards the eastern skyline, and Mandy focused her formless vision in the same direction. There was, indeed, a shape silhouetted against the dimming blue sky: a humanoid shape with large wings, spread wide, soaring towards the ship at great speed.

  “That's probably the courier from the capital,” Captain Vittorio said nonchalantly. “Someone go fetch Brother Eugene, and see if Lady Scarlett is—”

  “Right here, Captain,” Mandy said, appearing in Captain Vittorio’s blind spot and earning a startled jump from the man. That was never going to get old, she just knew it.

  “Ah, welcome… mh, good morning, my lady,” Captain Vittorio said after a momentary stumble. Turning towards the railing, he shouted, “Lieutenant Cooper, you have the helm!”

  “Aye, sir!” called one of the sailors in response, ascending the stairs and taking hold of the wheel from Captain Vittorio, who motioned for Mandy to follow him to the rear-most section of the helm, just in time for the bird man to adjust his wings and begin diving towards the ship.

  Mandy was fortunate she was able to freeze her projection in place, otherwise she would have jumped back when the man pulled up just short of hitting the deck, sending a gust of wind in all directions that ruffled Captain Vittorio’s coat and nearly blew his hat off his head. Flapping once, the courier righted himself in the air and let his frighteningly sharp talons touch down on the deck.

  Up close, he cast an impressive figure; his large wings were a rich brown in color that shifted to reddish copper near the bottom, and the feathers growing from his arms and head were snowy white. In addition to a pair of ornate round goggles, he was wearing a snug-fitting, sharply tailored dark-blue uniform, with a harness of leather straps that criss-crossed his upper body and legs, and a series of leather tubes strapped in place along his hips and back.

  “Captain Vittorio?” the bird man asked, not quite snapping to attention, his chest heaving slightly from his heavy breaths.

  “Aye, that's me,” Captain Vittorio said, taking a step forward.

  “I bring word from the capital,” the bird man said, turning and undoing the straps around one of the tubes at his waist, twisting off the top and tilting it until a tightly rolled scroll bound by a wax seal slid out into his hand. He handed off the scroll to Captain Vittorio, who inspected the seal for a short moment before nodding in approval.

  “My thanks. Were you instructed to wait for a reply?” Captain Vitrorio asked.

  “I was, sir.”

  “Very well. Give us a few moments to go over the contents. We will call for you when we’re ready,” Captain Vittorio said, and the bird man crossed one arm over his chest, bowing, then flapped his wings, lifting in the air just as Brother Eugene arrived at the top of the stairs. He watched with naked disapproval as the bird man flew up into the mess of ropes that ran between the deck and Mandy’s sails, settling into a sitting position atop one of the massive wooden crossbeams that ran horizontal to her main mast.

  “It truly is a shame,” Brother Eugene began, and Mandy could already feel a rising urge to roll her eyes. “A shame how deeply reliant on those creatures we have allowed the Empire to become. Surely we are not far off from discovering a more efficient means of magical communication over long distances that will render them obsolete.” The man turned to Mandy, furrowing his brow in concern. “Do be careful not to let slip anything important around that one, my lady. Every one of those bird types are known to be horrible gossips.”

  “Is that a fact?” Mandy asked, intrigued, glancing up at the winged man seated atop one of her sails. Beside her, Captain Vittorio broke the seal on the scroll, unfurling it to read the contents. Mandy could obviously see them for herself, but she waited patiently for the captain to finish skimming the words.

  “Our arrival is eagerly awaited,” Captain Vittorio finally said, lifting his eyes from the page. “While the Empress herself is unfortunately away dealing with urgent matters outside the Empire, her Imperial Majesty’s First Blossom, Princess Aurelia, will be glad to receive you, my lady, as well as her esteemed siblings who reside in the capital with her.”

  “Splendid,” Mandy said, smiling brightly, although she knew there was still more to the letter than that.

  “There is one matter that they are requesting clarification on, though,” Captain Vittorio said, glancing back down. “They would like to know how far from the ship you are able to travel, so that they may plan the event around your needs.”

  Mandy had, of course, read the question for herself and had already been scrambling to think of how she might be able to answer it for several moments. She honestly had no idea how to answer that, or even how to test it. They were surrounded by water, so it wasn’t like she could get off the boat and just…

  Get off the boat? She was the boat! It didn’t matter if this body went overboard, since it wasn’t real.

  “Excuse me a moment, gentlemen,” Mandy said, letting her projection wink out. A moment later, it reappeared, hanging off of one of the two wooden ladders built into her outer hull, just above the waterline. Even knowing this body was fake, Mandy felt an all-too-real sense of vertigo in her not-real stomach at how fast the churning sea was passing beneath her.

  “Alright, here goes,” Mandy said, and let go of the ladder. She had half a second to wonder just what it would feel like for this projected body of hers to sink into the water, before her feet hit the surface of the waves and she abruptly stopped. Blinking, Mandy stood there, wobbling slightly on top of the waves like she was standing on a waterbed while the boat, her real body, sped on ahead of her.

  “Huh,” she said, crossing her arms and looking down at her feet. “Is this because I’m a boat and boats float, or because I’m a ghost… Can ghosts not get wet? No, there was that one with the girl in the well…”

  That was… not the question she was down here to answer! Sighing, she cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted out, “Ahoy up there!”

  Back in the helm, Captain Vittorio and Brother Eugene, as well as several other sailors, all rushed to the right side railing of the ship, peering over at her while she waved up at them.

  She had no idea what kind of measurements they used in this world, so even if she could measure how far she got from the ship before her projection disappeared, she probably wouldn’t be able to explain it properly, so she was going to leave that up to the people who could.

  Standing with her hands on her hips, she watched and waited while the ship got further and further away, to the point where she was starting to wonder if there actually was a limit to how far her projection could travel.

  Then, suddenly, she was no longer standing on the surface of the water. Having her projection vanish without her input was much more jarring than when she did it herself, but nothing too disorienting. After taking an extra moment to collect herself, she re-appeared in the helm, behind the small crowd that had gathered to watch her.

  “Well,” she said pleasantly, causing all of them to jump and turn suddenly. “How far was that, would you say?”

  After a moment of silence, all the gathered sailors burst into loud, excited deliberation amongst themselves, while Captain Vittorio extricated himself from the crowd and approached her.

  “That was quite impressive,” he said, genuinely. “I suppose we won’t ever have to worry about losing men overboard, as long as you can get to them in time.”

  Huh. Mandy hadn’t thought of that, but she supposed that was true. She certainly hoped they would never have to put it to the test, but it was good to know in the event that it ever did.

  The cluster of sailors broke apart, and one of them stepped forward, clearing his throat.

  “Best we can tell, m’lady, that was just about sixty yards, give or take a few feet,” he said, and Mandy nearly did a double take.

  Yards? Feet? Well, that certainly made things easier. Barely over half a football field wasn’t amazing, but it wasn’t terrible either.

  Good thing Chad isn't here, Mandy spared a moment to think, smirking to herself. He'd probably pitch a huge fit that they don't use fathoms or cubits or something.

  Of course, the thought of having a familiar face, any face, even Chad’s, around to make this ordeal a little easier threatened to make the smile slip from her face, but she shook off those feelings and nodded at the expectant sailors.

  “That sounds about right,” Mandy said, turning to Captain Vittorio. “There's your answer, Captain: sixty yards.”

  “Very good,” he said, rolling the parchment back up and slipping it into his coat. “I need to go draft our response. Are there any other special accommodations you would like me to request, my lady?”

  Hmm? Now that was an interesting question. Mandy had often fantasized about what it would be like when she was famous enough to be able to set riders on her contracts. Ordinarily she could imagine herself asking for a specific type of food to be served, or perhaps for her quarters to be furnished in a certain way, but seeing as she was a spirit, tied to a hulking mass of wood that lacked both the need or ability to eat or sleep, that kind of put a damper on most of her go-to ideas. But there was one thing she could think of that might end up being a lifesaver.

  “Books,” Mandy said with a smile.

  “Books?” Captain Vittorio repeated.

  “Yes, books,” Mandy said again, nodding. “I find myself wanting for a bit of extra entertainment, and I think having a few books aboard would do wonderful. Fiction, mostly, but I’ll take a few non-fiction as well, something historical maybe.”

  “Ah, I see. I will… let them know,” Captain Vittorio said, nodding and continuing on his way, taking the stairs down to the main deck, leaving Mandy behind in the helm with Brother Eugene and a handful of sailors, the latter of whom quickly returned to their posts now that the excitement was over.

  “Tell me something, Brother Eugene.” Mandy spoke up first, wanting to pre-empt the older man before he could get started. “Have you ever been to the capital?”

  “Not in many, many years,” Brother Eugene said, lifting his eyes to the sky and stroking his chin. “My father used to take me as a boy, and I made several pilgrimages to the grand temple during my apprenticeship, but have not found the time to visit since.”

  “Mmh.” Mandy hummed and nodded along. That was exactly the kind of answer she was hoping for. “Then perhaps our guest will be able to give me a more recent account of what to expect upon our arrival. You did say his kind enjoyed gossip, did you not?” Mandy asked, turning and looking pointedly in the direction of the winged man seated amongst her sails. Without another word, her projection on deck winked out, reappearing up on the same beam that the bird man was perched on, standing perfectly balanced like a tightrope walker. To his credit, the man did not flinch at her sudden appearance, but merely turned his head to regard Mandy as she crossed her arms behind her back and smiled down at him.

  “Do you mind if I join you for a moment?” she asked, and the man chuckled.

  “That’s a bit of a funny question, considering,” he said, before gripping the mast beside him and starting to struggle to rise to his feet, likely for some kind of bow.

  “Oh, please, none of that, you look exhausted,” Mandy hastily said, and the man let out a sigh and plopped right back down.

  “Thank you, m’lady,” the man wheezed, reaching up to massage one of his shoulders while his wings flexed behind him. “I had to try three other ships before finding this one.”

  “Please, by all means, make yourself comfortable,” Mandy said, spreading her arms and smiling magnanimously.

  “Mighty kind,” the bird man grunted, reaching into an inner pocket on his uniform and withdrawing a small metal flask. “I hope my uncourtly speech doesn’t offend, m’lady. I’ve never met one of you spirits up close, let alone a divine messenger.” His tone was jovial, clearly trying to ensure she knew he was joking. As he raised the flask to his lips, Mandy’s smile grew a little wider. Finally, someone who she could hopefully get some straight answers out of.

  “I must say,” Mandy said, crossing her arms behind her back. “You are rather flippant for someone being greeted by a divine messenger.”

  “Well, begging your pardon, m’lady, but I’ve seen things a hundred times more frightenin’ in appearance than your honorable self,” he said, looking at her out of the corner of one eye. “Plus, I’ve got friends in… high places.”

  Oh, finally! Someone who wasn’t scared to death of her, who she could get some straight answers out of!

  “So, what can this lowly half-beast do for you?” the man asked.

  “First off,” Mandy said, extending a hand towards him. “You can tell me your name.”

  The man cocked his head curiously at that, tucking his flask back into his uniform. “Folks call me Tobias,” he said, stretching his wings out behind him.

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  “Lovely to meet you, Tobias,” Mandy said pleasantly, lifting her chin slightly. “I am Lady Scarlett.”

  “M’lady,” Tobias said, propping his cheek up on his fist and smirking at her, clearly intrigued now. “I take it you came up here for some of that gossip my kind are so fond of.”

  “Indeed, I…” Mandy trailed off, narrowing her eyes and feeling her smile turn into a smirk of her own. “You… could still hear us on deck from up here?”

  “Every word,” the man confirmed, chuckling. “A lot of humans have a bad habit of underestimating the natural gifts of non-humans, and these Empire sorts are worse than most.”

  “Well, I can’t disagree with that,” Mandy said, unsure of how she felt being lumped in as a “non-human.” Turning her head to peer down at the ship laid out below her, at the sailors still milling about that had stopped to stare up at her in turn, Brother Eugene included. She decided that she probably shouldn't stay up here too long, but she had questions that needed answering.

  “Just how far has word of my appearance spread?” Mandy asked, turning back to Tobias. “You don’t seem all that surprised by my presence.”

  “Aye, well, I had some idea what to expect,” Tobias said, giving her a lazy half shrug. “I heard about it first-hand from the messenger that old bastard sent,” he answered, jerking his head back over his shoulder. “He heard about you from the people who were there at the docks, and I’m sure he had to take a break or two, winging his way to the capital from the ass-end of Fulgar, so word is probably spreading anywhere he stopped off as well. He said I wasn’t even the first city courier he’d spoken to when I ran into him. I’d bet every delivery agency in the capital knows about you by now, and it won’t be long until one of the younger lads runs off to the information brokers.”

  “I see,” Mandy said evenly, turning in place to stare out at the sun, hanging low in the sky on the western horizon. On the one hand, that was good, because it would mean there’d be plenty of buzz surrounding her well before she even arrived at the capital, and hopefully just as many more people eager to eat up her cover story. On the other hand, it did mean she was more or less firmly locked into this role she’d not entirely chosen for herself, for better or for worse. She just had to hope her meeting with the royal family went over well.

  Speaking of the royal family…

  “What can you tell me about the royals who reside in the capital?” Mandy asked, and Tobias chuckled again.

  “You know, usually I charge people by the question,” he said, and Mandy turned back, giving him her most unimpressed look. His laughter petered out, and he held a hand up, waving it above his head. “Right, right, wouldn’t expect a spirit to carry much coin.”

  “Quite,” Mandy said. Down in the captain's quarters, where Captain Vittorio was still hard at work inking up a letter of reply to send to the capital, the lower left drawer of the writing desk squeezed itself even more firmly shut.

  “Well, there’s the Empress, but I’ll assume you don’t need to be told about her,” Tobias began, and Mandy chuckled back good-naturedly while silently cursing herself, her luck, and whatever forces brought her to this world and dropped her into this stupid boat. “Right after her would be the First Blossom, Princess Aurelia. She’s the oldest and most impressive of her recent batch of mortal children, who rules the Empire in her stead whenever the Empress is away.”

  Well, now they were getting somewhere! Mandy turned full on towards Tobias, giving him her undivided attention and motioning for him to continue.

  “Never met her myself, thank the gods, but she’s got a reputation for being just as volatile as her mother. That aside, she’s supposed to be a shrewd tactician, a brilliant negotiator, and an unparalleled warrior in her own right. Her command over the royal bloodline is said to be second only to the Empress and the legendary warriors of the Empire’s past.” Tobias gave another shrug, holding up one of his clawed hands and inspecting his talons. “I’d say, s’long as you don’t get on her bad side, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

  “Why would I have anything to worry about?” Mandy asked with a playful giggle, while down below the hull of her body creaked and groaned slightly. Down in the hold, two off-duty sailors looked up in alarm as several barrels of salted fish slipped loose from their ties and started tumbling about.

  “Suppose so,” Tobias said, turning his hand over and starting to count off. “I don’t pay much attention to who comes and goes from the capital, but aside from Princess Aurelia, there’s a gaggle of her younger siblings that spend most of their downtime hanging about the castle when they’re not out playing at war, all of ‘em equal measures infamous and powerful. You’ve got Marcella the Divine Flame, Lorenzo the Living Legion, Octavia the Silent Threadspinner, Corin the Crackling Blade, Naomi the Heavenly Bolt, and Hector the Distant Flash. Oh, and Prince Mylo, of course, but he’s probably the last one you need to worry about. Hasn't made much of a name for himself other than being studious and soft.”

  For some reason that last bit seemed to amuse Tobias, who leaned back on the beam and laughed, while Mandy stood as still as a statue beside him, rapidly trying to digest everything she’d just heard.

  What the hell were those names?! What did they even mean?! Did Mandy even want to meet someone called “the Divine Flame” or the “Heavenly Bolt?”

  This was such a terrible, stupid idea…

  Down below, the ship creaked and groaned again. Captain Vittorio looked up, holding a red wax block against the glowing tip of a metal rod. The two sailors finished re-tying the knots that held the barrels in place, then jumped in fright as several crates jerked and shifted of their own accord.

  It’s fine. This is fine. Whatever else they might be, they’re still just a bunch of spoiled rich kids. You just need to convince them that they need you, not the other way around.

  Mandy took in a deep breath through her nose, and let it out with a pleasant sigh, prompting Tobias to look up at her curiously.

  “I can’t wait to meet them.”

  ■ ■ ■ ■

  “What the fuck is this?!”

  In the span of two seconds, the carefully constructed foundation of calm and inner peace that Chad had spent the last few minutes cultivating came crashing down like a shelf of fine porcelain plates being struck by an errant baseball.

  “Did one of you do this?” Chad demanded of the bewildered looking prince and his bodyguard. It was preposterous, he knew, but on the off-chance there was any other explanation than the first one that came to mind…

  “Is it not a feature of demon physiology that your physical forms are mercurial?” Mylo asked innocently.

  “God, I hate the way you talk!” Chad growled spitefully, finally thinking to turn his back to the pair, now shouting at the wall instead. “First off, like I've been trying to tell you, I'm not a demon! I woke up like this, and I don't know jack shit about how demons are ‘supposed’ to work.” Raising a hand, Chad jabbed an accusatory finger at the sky and continued ranting, “That demon chick in the archbishop’s dungeon said this stuff is supposed to take weeks, or months! She said you have to hold an image in your mind, and I guaran-fuckin'-tee you I was not picturing this!”

  Chad gestured vaguely downward at the… things protruding from his chest. His mind rebelled at the very idea of correctly identifying them.

  “Hmm.” Mylo hummed thoughtfully behind him, and Chad felt his hands clenching into fists. “That was my understanding as well. This is a fascinating anomaly. Perhaps it has something to do with your unique origin?”

  “Fuck’s sake, man,” Chad snarled, noting for the first time that his voice was lacking a fair amount of its usual edge. It was high, undeniably feminine, and, to his ears, made his threats sound weak and insubstantial. He spun around to glare coldly at Mylo. “Does nothing phase you, huh?!”

  Chad had raised his hand without even thinking, instinctively reaching for the roiling flames inside him that he'd been tossing around like party favors for most of the morning. Mylo’s eyes widened fractionally, and Alfonso moved to place himself in front of the prince, but all three of them froze when a crackling noise began to fill the air.

  “What the…” Chad lowered his raised fist, holding it out in front of him. A thick skin of ice had formed around his entire hand, up to the wrist, with wisps of fog and tiny flecks of snow drifting away from it. Cold emanated off of it, but it felt distant, as if separated by a layer of insulation. Chad wiggled his fingers, and the sheet of ice moved with them, like a glove.

  “Well now, that's very interesting.” Chad jumped at the sound of Mylo’s voice, the prince having appeared at his side, inspecting his frozen hand. “It is not uncommon for demons to possess multiple elemental gifts—that is one of the things that can make them so dangerous—but I've never heard of them being separated by a physical transformation. I take it you were still trying to conjure a fireball when you did this instead?”

  “Y-yeah…” Chad said, taking a self-conscious step back and holding his arm straight out, using the other one to finally cover his chest.

  “Most fascinating… you are a seemingly endless well of unprecedented magical phenomena; an actual, living Outsider, as well as a human turned demon with unheard of abilities. If we were not planning to leave this place behind, I would love to get you into my lab…”

  The intensity in Mylo’s tone and expression as he examined his arm sent another chill down Chad's spine that had nothing to do with the ice coating his arm. He opened his mouth, ready to hurl any number of threats or insults or threatening insults at the prince, but found his throat clenched too tightly to form words. Worse still, after clearing his throat a couple times, he found that he felt like his brain had had a whisk stuck into it and the contents of his skull had been scrambled, then fried and served up on toast.

  What the fuck is… what is this… why is this…

  Now he couldn’t even think complete sentences! He was finally able to snap out of… whatever this was when Mylo extended a finger as though to experimentally touch the ice covering his hand, yanking his arm away from the other man.

  “Alri—” Chad began, but still the shrillness of his voice unsettled him. When he opened his mouth again, he strained his throat to push his tone as deep as it would go. “Alright, you need to take like three steps back or I am going to hurt you!” he barked, and Mylo blinked his eyes several times, like he was coming out of a daze.

  “Ah, my apologies…” Mylo said vaguely, looking at Chad and furrowing his brow. “Oh, you’re uncomfortable,” he said, as though noticing that fact for the very first time that Chad had one arm wrapped around himself. “Would you like something more to cover up with? I have plenty of shirts—”

  “Stop being such a fuckin’ gentleman!” Chad cut him off, jabbing an ice-coated finger at the prince. “I am not borrowing your clothes!”

  “Why… not?” Mylo asked, perplexed.

  “Uh, because it's gay?” Chad spat, then immediately winced, moving to smack himself in the forehead, which instead just resulted in his palm colliding with one of his horns, cracking the ice and sending shards raining down onto the carpet. With the damage already done, he grumbled out a quiet, “Fuck, sorry,” and shook the rest of the ice off his hand while internally admonishing himself.

  Even if that was a valid excuse, which he very well knew it wasn’t, it wasn’t like he could just not cover himself up while looking like this. He couldn’t exactly live out the rest of his life in this bedroom, either.

  And besides, a traitorous, logical voice in the back of his head argued, it wouldn’t technically be gay right now, would it?

  “Uuuuugh!” Chad groaned, bringing both hands up to the sides of his head and digging his nails into the back of his scalp, turning his back to the pair to avoid giving them another peepshow. To his further frustration, he realized even his hair had changed, having grown out several extra inches, way longer than he’d ever let it get.

  “My prince,” Alfonso finally spoke up, warily. “Should I throw the blanket over him again?”

  “Absolutely not!” Chad shouted, immediately pulling his head out of his hands and snarling at Alfonso. “I just made that bed, you are not gonna—”

  A pair of loud, sharp knocks sounded at the door. Chad's body went rigid. Someone else was outside? Someone else besides these two who might see him like this? That was completely unthinkable.

  “W-wait!” Chad threw his arm out towards Mylo, who hadn't even started moving towards the door yet. Frustrated, and panicked, Chad closed his eyes and gripped the sides of his head again.

  Think manly thoughts, damnit… uh, football! Uh, getting laid! Uh, uhm… lifting weights at the gym! Shotgunning beers and playing CoD with my bros! Cars! Barbecue, rock music, action movies—

  Chad was only aware that something was different when he felt the hair under his fingers shifting on its own, receding back into his head. Opening his eyes, he watched in stunned silence as his skin shifted hue right in front of him, darkening from pink back to purple. Now that he was aware of it, he could feel the changes rippling through his body, his frame adjusting itself without a hint of pain or discomfort. He placed his hand on his bare, smooth chest, letting out the breath he'd been holding.

  Mylo looked like he had just as many questions as Chad, but whoever was waiting at the door knocked again, and he turned, crossing the room to answer it.

  “Yes?” Mylo asked, pulling the door open, revealing a tall, willowy elven man with blue skin wearing a dark suit.

  “Apologies for the disturbance, Your Highness,” the man said, dipping forward in a smooth and practiced bow, continuing without skipping a beat. “Her Highness, Princess Aurelia, requests your presence in the meeting chambers in the east hall.” The man rose out of his bow, casting a lazy glance over the prince's shoulders. If he was at all phased by Chad’s appearance or presence, he didn’t show it.

  “Ah, thank you,” Mylo said, closing the door without another word.

  Turning back around, Mylo let his back rest against the door. Chad’s breathing continued to slow, until he felt calm enough to speak without shouting. He knew there were probably a lot of things they needed to talk about, but thankfully it seemed like the universe had offered up a convenient distraction.

  “So what's that about?” Chad asked, sticking his hands in the pockets of his borrowed pants.

  “I am not certain,” Mylo said, pushing himself up off the door and running a hand through his hair. “Something must have come up for her to be calling me to the meeting hall.”

  “Well, good luck with that,” Chad said, but Mylo shook his head.

  “I'm afraid it would not be wise for me to leave you unattended just yet,” Mylo explained, crossing to the other side of his bed and reaching into one of the large bedside tables, withdrawing the anti-magic cuffs. “I need to maintain the image that I am attempting to break your spirit, and letting you out of my sight would seem suspicious.”

  Resisting the urge to make a crack about keeping handcuffs in the nightstand, Chad grumbled and crossed his arms.

  “Ugh, fine.”

  “I'm also afraid there is the matter of clothing,” Mylo said, giving Chad an apologetic smile. “Unless you are certain that transformation will not happen unexpectedly, it would be wise to get you something more to wear.”

  Chad scrunched his face up into a scowl, casting about for any kind of reasonable way to refuse the prince, and once again coming up empty handed.

  “Goddamnit,” Chad griped, crossing his arms tighter and hunching up his shoulders. “You're right, but I hate it.”

  “Welcome to my life,” Alfonso said, clapping a hand onto Chad’s shoulder in passing, heading towards a staggeringly tall wardrobe that took up the corner of the bedroom opposite the windows. “Since you seem to have some problem with wearing Mylo’s clothing, would one of my shirts be preferable?”

  That was one hell of a question. Chad looked from the slender, soft, pretty-faced young prince, to the towering, broad-shouldered armor-clad young knight, and let out a heavy sigh.

  “Honestly? No,” Chad said, following after Alfonso. “But at this point I'm just too tired to care.”

  “I will send for my couturier as soon as we're finished with whatever my sister wants, if you'd like,” Mylo said hopefully. The offer gave Chad pause. It still tickled that irrational, illogical part of his brain that was ready to label anything and everything “gay” or “queer” at the drop of a hat, but he knuckled down and told that part of his brain to just shut the fuck up for one minute.

  “Sure,” he said sullenly.

  Alfonso threw open the doors of the wardrobe, revealing an array of silken shirts in more shades of red than he knew existed. Kneeling down, he reached for a stack of folded cloth, withdrawing a crisp, white shirt with a loose, open collar and long sleeves that billowed out slightly. It definitely wasn't the worst thing Chad could imagine wearing.

  “Thanks…” Chad mumbled, feeling fairly subdued after his multiple ultimately pointless outbursts. The shirt was loose on him, and the hem hung down well past his hips, but that was nothing that couldn’t be solved by tucking the extra into his pants. There were mirrors built into the inside of the wardrobe’s doors, and Chad was finally able to get his first good look at himself since awakening in this world.

  Aside from the purple skin, his face looked relatively unchanged; handsome, at least in his opinion, with a strong jaw and a prominent nose, both features he'd inherited from his father. As he'd already discovered, his ears came to a point, and two thick black horns curved out and up from his forehead. His hair was blue, and was currently suffering from some of the worst bed head he'd ever seen. Using his fingers, he combed it back into a rough approximation of his usual carefree tousel, though he knew it wouldn't stick without some kind of gel, which he doubted existed here.

  “Something wrong?” Mylo asked, noticing Chad’s frown at the state of his hair.

  “It’s nothing,” Chad said, waving his hand dismissively. “Nothin’ you can do about it, unless you happen to have any gel.”

  “Eh… gel?”

  “Hair gel,” Chad elaborated, and Mylo’s eyebrows lifted in understanding.

  “Aah, you mean a fixative,” Mylo said, turning to yet another piece of oversized, overly decorated wooden furniture; a many-drawered desk with a low bench and another mirror mounted in the middle of it, that Chad had had initially mistaken for an just ordinary desk. “I believe I have some, let me check.”

  “Wh… is that a vanity desk?” Chad asked as Mylo began rummaging through the many, many drawers.

  “Hmm? This? This is my dressing table,” Mylo said without looking up. Now that Chad was looking, he could see several small jars arranged on the surface of the desk, as well as various finely-tapered brushes that resembled paint brushes.

  “Do you… wear makeup, dude?” Chad asked haltingly, trying his best to keep his tone as neutral as possible.

  At that, Mylo did look up, and for a moment Chad watched him just silently mouth the word “dude” a few times before meeting Chad’s gaze.

  “...Yes?” Mylo said, raising an eyebrow. “Of course I do. Mostly for outings and social events. I am one of the royal family, so it is expected of me.” He let out a small chuckle, returning to his rummaging. “Not too much, of course. I am still a living descendant of the Goddess of Love and War, after all. I need only enough to accentuate my natural gifts.”

  “Damn, dude, that’s pretty fuckin’ vain,” Chad said, and Mylo paused again, tilting his head curiously.

  “It’s not vanity if it’s true,” Mylo said, and Chad let out a snort of laughter.

  “That sounds exactly like somethin’ my ex would say,” Chad said, shaking his head.

  “Your what?” Alfonso asked, having taken to leaning against the wall near the door.

  “My… uh…” Chad blinked, realizing the sheer enormity of the hole he was inches away from stumbling into. What was even thinking, comparing Mylo to his ex-girlfriend?

  “Nevermind, forget it,” Chad said, crossing his arms. Alfonso and Mylo exchanged another glance across the room, and an awkward silence hung heavy in the air like the smell of burnt food, broken only by the quiet clinking and clattering from Mylo’s search.

  “Ah!” Finally, the silence was broken entirely, and Mylo withdrew a wide metal tin, bringing it over to the wardrobe and holding it out to Chad. “Here you are. I am not very fond of it, so use as much as you’d like.”

  Chad accepted the tin suspiciously, lifting the lid off and revealing a cloudy, viscous substance. He took a sniff, and was bombarded with a powerful oily odor mixed with a bouquet of floral scents.

  “Geez, that’s ripe,” Chad said, coughing slightly and turning back to Mylo “What is this? I mean, what’s in it?”

  “Mmh, I don’t remember the full list of components, but it is mainly oils and fat, mixed with herbs and some floral essences. It doesn’t smell as strong once it’s set in, trust me,” Mylo said, and Chad sighed.

  “Well, thanks,” Chad said, dipping two fingers into the oily mass and scooping out a very, very small amount, spreading it between his palms and fingers before combing it into his hair. To his utter surprise, the results weren’t terrible, and soon his hair was styled more or less in the way he usually preferred, if he ignored the fact that it was blue.

  “Hmm, not bad,” Chad remarked, taking in his appearance in full. When he wasn’t being chased down by guards or threatened with magical enslavement because of it, he could actually stop and consider that he looked pretty fuckin’ cool as a demon.

  Wonder what I looked like when I was—

  No. Nope. No, not even for a second was Chad going to complete that thought.

  “Now who’s being vain?” Mylo teased, appearing at the edge of the mirror with a playful smirk on his face. “But, I agree. You cut quite a roguish figure.”

  “Don’t—” Chad caught himself and stopped before he could finish saying “Don’t compliment me,” pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. Why was this so fucking hard?

  “Thank you,” Chad said through clenched teeth, reaching up and pulling the doors of the wardrobe shut. “Come on. I don’t want to make you late meeting that sister of yours, she might decide to kick me in half.”

  Mylo laughed at that, and Chad was pretty sure he heard Alfonso chuckle as they headed for the door.

  “Oh! Can’t forget these,” Mylo said, reaching into his pocket and once again holding up the black metal cuffs he’d retrieved. Chad’s back stiffened, but he just sighed and raised his arms.

  “Yeah, fine, whatever. As long as you don’t try to put a fuckin’ leash on me,” Chad grumbled, and did not at all appreciate the way Mylo chuckled at that.

  “Are you sure?” Mylo asked just as he closed the cuffs around Chad’s wrists, locking them loosely in place. “That might help better sell the illusion.”

  “Wh—” Chad jerked back, but stopped himself. He was not going to fall into the same pit of assuming the worst of the prince, not after so many times already. If he really thought that was necessary to avoid suspicion, then Chad could grit his teeth and bear it.

  “F-fine, but don’t make me regret this,” Chad said, grumbling and scowling at the wall. When neither Mylo or Alfonso said anything for several moments, he looked back, finding them both looking at him with bemusement. “What?”

  “I was… joking,” Mylo said with another chuckle. “I was just trying to play along, I don’t actually think that would be necessary.”

  “Oh…”

  Another, shorter silence passed between them before Mylo raised an eyebrow and spoke up again, asking, “Do you think—”

  “If you finish that sentence, I will kill you,” Chad said. He expected that might earn him a glare from Alfonso, but the tall knight just laughed.

  “I think I am starting to get a better handle on your sense of humor,” Mylo said, turning and reaching to open the door.

  “I'm not joking!” Chad insisted, and Mylo paused, over his shoulder and giving him a knowing smile. Chad opened his mouth to respond, then opened it again, and again thought better of it, opting to just grumble nonsense under his breath and follow Mylo out into the hall, with Alfonso closing the door behind them. Getting his first look at the inside of the castle that wasn't Mylo’s bedroom, Chad's expectations were not just blown away, they were obliterated. They'd entered a hallway that made even the most luxurious hotel he’d ever stayed in look like a rat-trap motel; fine carpets spanned the length of the hall on top of polished wood floors, enormous paintings hung from the walls, their carved frames every bit as artful as their contents, and large vases painted in eye-catching patterns sat perched on raised pedestals running from one end of the hallway to the other. There were even a pair of elven maids working their way down the hall with dust rags in hand. As their small group approached, the pair paused in their work and turned, folding their hands in front of them and bowing.

  “Good day, Your Highness,” they said in unison, keeping their heads down while the three of them passed by, before returning to their work. Chad continued to watch them over his shoulder until they rounded a corner.

  “Can I ask you something?” Chad asked.

  “It would be best if we did not speak too familiarly in the open,” Mylo said, glancing back down the length of the corridor. “Is it urgent?”

  “No, I was just wondering why it seems like all your servants are elves,” Chad said, shrugging.

  “Ah, that.” Mylo nodded, looking forward again. “Well, there is a long and rather complicated answer to that question, but the short version is that elves are favored within the Empire for their natural beauty.”

  “So… you only hire elves because they’re all hot?” Chad asked skeptically.

  “Er… ‘hot?’”

  “Attractive,” Chad said, rolling his eyes.

  “Ah, yes. Like I said there are deeper societal factors at play, but…” Mylo trailed off as they neared another corner.

  “Yeah, yeah, later,” Chad said quietly, sighing and resolving to keep quiet for the rest of the trip. At least the view inside the castle wasn’t bad. They passed by more works of art along the way; more paintings, sculptures, empty suits of armor standing with gigantic spears in hand, and even more weapons hung up on the walls as decoration. Chad figured there was a story behind every one, and a part of him burned with the desire to ask. The same part of him that used to think knights were the coolest, the part of him that thrilled at the idea that he was being led through an actual castle, a part of him that had been buried so long he could’ve been forgiven for thinking it was gone forever. As they passed by another suit of armor that was painted red with gold engravings and a huge, protruding horn in the middle of its forehead, he couldn’t fight the smile that crept up onto his face.

  Alfonso, who was walking along beside him, cocked his head down slightly and quietly said, “You seem to be in a good mood again.”

  Shit!

  Chad jerked away slightly, feeling walls in his mind that had just barely started to come down about to slam back into place, but he caught himself. There was a lot Chad didn’t know or understand about himself, or what he was currently going through, but there was one thing he did know: He didn’t want to keep being the same angry, unhappy person that he’d been for the last few years of his life. It was only a month or so since he’d even become aware of the fact that something was wrong, and only a few weeks since he’d actually started trying to change it, before he ended up here. He could either let this place turn him back into the one thing he wanted to be least of all, or he could try to be better.

  He’d done a shit job of that so far, but hey, who’s keeping track?

  “Y-yeah…” Chad admitted hesitantly, averting his eyes rather than keep holding Alfonso’s curious gaze.

  “In the carriage,” Alfonso continued, “you told the Archbishop you were admiring the city’s architecture. At the time I thought you were mocking him, but I saw the way you looked at the castle when we first arrived. You were smiling then, as you are now.”

  Ah, fuck. Was I smiling then? Am I still smiling now?

  God, since when was he self-conscious? And what was so wrong with just fucking smiling, huh?

  “Well…” Chad said, turning his head and motioning with his cuffed arms at a display rack of long halberd-like weapons hung up in the middle of the corridor. “I just think a lot of this stuff is… neat. Fa—uh, fantastical stuff like castles and armor and weapons and”—He chanced a quick glance back up at Alfonso before looking away again—“knights, doing… knightly things.”

  “‘Knightly things?’” Alfonso repeated, and Chad could hear the smirk in his voice, which in turn made Chad’s cheeks begin to heat. He could feel himself wanting to respond to the embarrassment with anger, but he kept it in check, reminding himself over and over that Alfonso was just trying to break the ice.

  Still, he had no idea what else to say instead, resulting in him just lapsing into silence, staring holes in the walls while feeling keenly aware of the armored man walking beside him. Mylo turned suddenly, taking them down a short flight of stairs to a wide corridor lined with windows, and Chad was able to see they were in one of the joining walls that connected the outer towers to the central keep. He could peer out the windows and see part of the courtyard far below; they were overlooking a barracks, and Chad could see a large pit filled with sand, in which distant figures grappled and sparred.

  “We’re so high up…” Chad remarked absently. A question occurred to him, one that he simultaneously did and didn’t want to know the answer to.

  “Did you have to carry me all the way up here?” Chad asked, finally looking at Alfonso again.

  “Yes,” Alfonso answered, and Chad winced.

  “I’m… sorry, that must’ve sucked,” Chad said, and again Alfonso’s eyes fell on him with an almost physical weight. God, he really should have just kept quiet.

  “You have apologized for a great many of the things you have done and said since I have met you, Chad,” Alfonso said, tilting his head thoughtfully. “Some of them rightly so, some of them for reasons that escape me, but I must object to apologizing for needing to be helped after suffering the full brunt of one of My… of Prince Mylo’s debilitating shocks. If anything, I think his apology for that was somewhat lacking.”

  “Eh…” Chad grimaced and shrugged. “Yeah, I don’t think he even did apologize for that, but then, I haven’t apologized for threatening to strangle him so… maybe we could just call it even?”

  Alfonso laughed at that, seemingly despite himself, and Chad couldn’t help but join in. When he wasn’t putting on a front of ice-cold professionalism, he really did seem like a nice guy, and Chad had to admit his presence made him feel much more comfortable and at ease than he otherwise would, given the situation.

  Geez, it’s no wonder that Mylo—

  Like a car speeding down the highway suddenly engaging its emergency brake, Chad tried to violently put a halt to that line of thought. He jerked his head away so fast it almost hurt, and he stumbled forward, hunching in on himself like he’d just been punched in the gut again. If he weren’t walking on a rug that probably cost more than his entire life, he would probably have gagged or spit.

  Alfonso hurried to his side, reaching out to help him. “Chad, are you—oh…” Alfonso had frozen midstep, eyes wide, and as Chad stood up he immediately knew why.

  “Mylo, wait,” Alfonso called, unnecessarily, as Mylo had already stopped and turned around, also stepping up to peer curiously at Chad.

  “What the fuuuuuck…” Chad hissed, looking down at himself and his once again bright pink skin. The loose shirt that belonged to Alfonso was suddenly much more loose in some parts, and much less in others.

  Mylo hummed, looking Chad up and down before speaking. “Any idea what set it off this time?”

  “No!” Chad snapped, holding up his hands, the cuffs hanging even more loosely on his wrists now. “Nothing caused it, it just… happened!”

  Mylo exchanged a quick glance with Alfonso, but simply nodded, and Chad got the feeling that the prince could tell he was lying. No, worse, Chad knew the prince could tell he was lying, but was simply squirreling that fact away for later use.

  Maybe he really is like Mandy, Chad found himself thinking bitterly. Smart. Manipulative. Dangerous.

  “Stop it…” Chad hissed through his pointed teeth at himself, scowling at the floor. That wasn’t fair to Mylo, and he knew it. He just didn’t like the idea of the prince trying to solve him like a puzzle.

  “Perhaps we should—” Mylo began to say, but Chad shook his head.

  “It’s fine. I’m fine. Just… give me a minute,” Chad said, turning away from the pair and closing his eyes. He had absolutely no clue what he was doing, but he figured if he did this once before, he could do it again. Last time, it had been mostly the thought of someone else seeing him like this that triggered his return to normal, and he was definitely feeling that out here in the halls of the castle. He leaned into that feeling, and for extra credit, mentally focused on the image of what he’d looked like in the mirror before they left.

  Opening his eyes, Chad looked down, and was never more relieved to see purple skin.

  “Let’s go,” Chad said, turning back to the pair. Both of them looked like they wanted to say something, but neither did. Mylo continued to lead them through the castle corridors, and Alfonso continued to walk at Chad’s side, opting not to engage in any further conversation for the rest of the journey.

  Finally, their path brought them to a much more populated part of the castle, and they began passing by not just servants, but other guards and castle staff, all going about their duties, all stopping to greet Mylo respectfully as he passed. That meant that the first time they encountered someone who didn’t formally greet the prince, Chad experienced a moment of whiplash.

  “Well, well, well!” The voice came from behind them, carrying all the way down the narrow, door-lined hallway that Mylo had brought them to. The three of them turned, and Chad saw another trio headed towards them, led by what could only be another member of the royal family, if her blond hair and pretty face were any indication.

  “What a nice surprise! Mylo, out of his lab! Frannie, make a note of this,” the new woman said, grinning in amusement. “So, this summons from Sister wasn’t just for me, huh?”

  “It would appear so,” Mylo said, moving to put himself at the head of their group to greet the woman, now clearly another one of his sisters.

  Like Mylo, she wore her hair in a short bob, but with longer bangs that framed her face and hung down past her chin, the tips of which had been dyed red. She had a long red coat draped loosely off one shoulder, and the same style of flowy pants and tall black boots, but instead of a sword at her hip, there was a red leather pouch that jangled slightly as she moved, and she had some kind of metal rod strapped to her back.

  Standing behind her and to the left was another young woman, wearing a suit of armor identical in style to Alfonso’s, with the same embellishments and coloration and everything. If that wasn’t enough to tip Chad off, her curly black hair and dark eyes would have, along with the way she was glaring at the other knight.

  “Little brother,” she said, her voice completely devoid of warmth.

  “Good morning to you as well, Francesca,” Alfonso replied, smiling pleasantly and inclincing his head.

  “I hear you have once again brought shame to our family name,” the stone-faced woman said, her eyes drifting over to land on Chad. “Allowing your charge to be taken captive by a rogue demon. Disgraceful.”

  “Oh, yeah,” the blond woman said, stepping forward and putting her hands on her hips, leaning forward to try and get a better look at Chad as well. “Word around the castle is you got yourself a new pet. Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

  Mylo didn’t answer immediately, but rather took in a deep breath through his nose, letting it out through his mouth, before turning, resting a hand on Chad’s shoulder.

  “Of course. Naomi, this is Chad,” Mylo said, gesturing towards him, then moving his hand to motion to his sister. “Chad, this is my esteemed older sister, Princess Naomi Asterope Rosenfeld.”

  “Chad?” Naomi said, her nose scrunching up as she sounded out his name. “Not a very pleasant name. It’s not even that intimidating. You should change it to something better.” Turning her head, the princess addressed the third person in her group, who had remained silent and motionless until now.

  “What do you think, Alexandria? Does ‘Chad’ seem very dangerous to you?”

  Whoever this “Alexandria” was, she was either another demon, or an elf, Chad honestly couldn’t tell. She had brick-red skin and bright green hair, and wore a sleeveless, high-collared black shirt and dark-red pants, as well as a matching set of large, intimidating gauntlets and a pair of very heavy-looking armor-plated boots. Her face was completely covered by a smooth black mask, with two large glass lenses that were lit from within by a flickering green light. The masked woman cocked her head, and though Chad couldn’t see her eyes behind the lenses of her mask, he could feel her gaze on him.

  “No,” she said simply, her voice ethereal and ghostlike, turning her head away and crossing her arms.

  “Oh, you wanna fuckin’ see dangerous?” Chad barked, stepping forward to try and shove his way past Mylo and Alfonso, but both of them were quick enough to grab a shoulder each and hold him back.

  “Ha! That’s more like it!” Naomi laughed and grinned, bringing a finger up to her lips and pursing them in thought. “Mmmh, but really, how dangerous can you be? No leash, no muzzle, only one pair of shackles, and Mylo of all people already has you following him around like a little puppy?”

  Chad cast a baleful glare in Mylo’s direction, which the young prince returned sheepishly. Growling, he refocused on Naomi, pulling his lips back to show off as many of his pointed teeth as possible.

  “Oh trust me,” he said, pushing himself to the absolute limits of Mylo and Alfonso’s hold on him. “I’m just biding my time. You’d better appreciate your little brother while you still have the chance, because the second he slips up…” Taking a page from Mandy’s book, Chad paused for dramatic effect and lowered his voice. “I’m going to kill him.”

  Having said his piece, Chad stepped back. Mylo and Alfonso both stared at him, wide-eyed, and Naomi’s own guard, Francesca, narrowed her eyes dangerously at him, but Naomi herself just laughed again.

  “I’m certain you will, ‘Chad,’” Naomi said, sarcasm oozing from every word as she pressed forward, clearly intent on proceeding down the hallway whether they moved or not. Mylo grabbed Chad’s wrist and hauled him to the side, parting and allowing the trio to pass. Naomi chuckled, dismissively flicking her hair over her shoulder, continuing down the hall until she reached the tallest pair of double doors in the hall, casting one last glance back at the three of them before disappearing into the room beyond.

  “Damn, dude,” Chad said as soon as the door clicked shut. “Is everyone in your family a bitch?”

  “Now you see why I find it so easy to forgive your minor indiscretions,” Mylo said with a soft sigh, turning and giving Chad a smile. “That was quite masterfully done on your part though. For a moment, even I believed you really did intend me mortal harm.”

  “You think I was joking?” Chad asked scornfully, sneering down his nose at Mylo. He managed to hold the look for several seconds, just long enough for Mylo’s eyebrows to start to furrow, then snorted, shaking his head. He really was terrible at acting.

  Mylo and Alfonso, realizing that he was, in fact, joking, relaxed their stances again, the prince letting out a chuckle while Alfonso sighed towards the ceiling.

  “Come, let us see what this commotion is all about then,” Mylo said, and led them towards the same grand door that his sister had used. Alfonso opened the door for him and stepped inside first, and Chad waited for Mylo to enter before joining him.

  The room inside was spacious and rectangular, with a majority of the space taken up by a long table made of dark-red wood, around which several high-backed chairs cushioned by red upholstery were arranged. Several other people were either already seated or standing around the room, and Chad once again felt uncannily like he was back spending the holidays at Mandy’s house, meeting all her extended family.

  There was Naomi, of course, with her chair pushed back and her booted feet propped up on the meeting table, her two companions standing at attention behind her. There was also another woman seated across from her, tall and slender, with her hair bound up into an incredibly elaborate, waist-length braid. Beside her, seated in a chair that was twice as large as any of the others, was a huge figure covered from head to toe in a suit of blackened metal armor, with four identically armored figures arranged behind them.

  Across the room, two young men were gathered in front of a large fireplace, one standing with an elbow resting on the mantle and a wine glass in his other hand, one kneeling and inspecting the soot covered insides of the fireplace. Though both of them were obviously more of Mylo’s family, with the same blond hair and good looks, neither of them were as, for lack of a better word, pretty as Mylo was.

  All of the room’s occupants turned their attention to them as they entered, and the man standing over the fireplace called out, “Ah, Mylo, finally! Now we’re just waiting on Marcella.”

  “Apologies,” Mylo said with a smile, stepping further into the room. Chad, at a bit of a loss for what to do with himself, looked to Alfonso for direction, following the knight and sticking close to Mylo’s back.

  “I did not realize we’d all been called to appear,” Mylo remarked as he settled into the chair which Alfonso had pulled out for him. “Do any of you know why?”

  “Sister got a letter,” Naomi piped up, and Chad saw that she had what looked like a large metal ball bearing balanced on the back of her hand, rolling it idly back and forth across her knuckles and along her palm.

  “Indeed,” the man at the mantle said, nodding down at the still kneeling figure. “Hector says a messenger arrived an hour or so ago from the southern coast, a birdkin lad, and whatever message he had sent Aurelia into quite a tizzy.”

  “From the southern coast?” Mylo said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

  “Yes.” The kneeling man, Hector, spoke up finally, his voice deeper and rougher than Chad was expecting. He stood and turned, and Chad saw that he had a neatly trimmed beard that came to a slight point, and a pair of goggles with an array of complicated looking lenses perched on his forehead. “From Strom’s Landing, if I heard right. After that, Aurelia dispatched a royal courier, and I spied him winging southwest along the coastline.”

  Mylo continued to hum and ponder this new information, and Hector’s eyes fell onto Chad. He looked like he might say something, but before he could, a crackling sound filled the air. Chad looked up, alarmed, and spotted a copper pole, similar to the ones he saw dotting the castle towers, jutting out of the space above the mantle, giving off bright blue sparks. There was a flash, a crack, and a bolt of lightning lanced out, striking the chair at the head of the long table. Rather than exploding the chair into splinters, the bolt resolved into the shape and figure of Princess Aurelia, already seated, with her back straight and one leg crossed over the other.

  Of the eleven other occupants of the room, Chad was the only one who seemed remotely surprised by this development, and he was way more than just surprised. He was more like “freaked out beyond belief.” Princess Aurelia scanned the room, her lips pressing together into a thin line.

  “Marcella is not here yet?” she asked, lacing her fingers together in front of her.

  “Not unless she’s hiding under the table,” Naomi said with a laugh, that petered off into a chuckle when Princess Aurelia’s lidded gaze fell onto her. The chuckling became progressively weaker, and eventually Naomi let out a polite cough, lifting her legs off of the table and sitting up straight in her seat.

  “We will begin without her then,” Princess Aurelia said, sniffing once and fixing her glare onto Chad. Her already thin mouth turned down into the very beginnings of a frown.

  “What I have to share is not for the ears of demons,” she stated, and again all eyes landed on him. The urge to do or say something monumentally stupid hit him, but thankfully Mylo was quicker on the draw.

  “Of course,” Mylo said, turning in his seat. “Alfonso, take him out to the hall.”

  “At once. Come, demon.”

  Naomi snickered openly as Alfonso took Chad by the upper arm, leading him back to the doors they’d just entered through. Chad tried to turn back to fire off a comment but Alfonso’s grip on his arm tightened, and he bit back the urge.

  Out in the hall again, Chad sighed, slamming his back into the wall and huffing.

  “Didn’t want to attend your stupid fuckin’ meeting anyway…” he muttered.

  “I’m sure Prince Mylo will share the details with us afterwards,” Alfonso gently reminded him, and Chad’s only response was more discontented grumbling.

  Minutes crawled by, and Chad’s anger melted away to boredom. As much as he strained his ears to try and hear what was going on on the other side of those huge double doors, the thick wood didn’t let out so much as a muffled peep. Striking up conversation with Alfonso didn’t seem like a good idea either, but Chad’s only other option was to stand in silence and dwell on his thoughts.

  “Sooo…” Chad began casually, speaking sidelong to Alfonso on the other side of the oversized doors. “That was your sister?”

  “Francesca?” Alfonso asked, tilting his head. “She is my sister, yes.”

  “Is she always like that?”

  Alfonso chuckled and nodded, a fond smile appearing on his face that Chad tried not to look directly at, like he was trying to avoid the glare from the sun.

  “She has always been a very dour girl, ever since we were young. She takes her daily chores more seriously than some generals I’ve met,” Alfonso said, glancing over his shoulder at the closed double doors. “In that sense, I am glad she was paired up with Princess Naomi. If anyone can teach her how to take things less seriously, it's that girl.”

  “I guess I can see that,” Chad said. From what little he'd seen of her he couldn't imagine Princess Naomi took anything seriously. “Wait, ‘paired up?’”

  “Ah, yes,” Alfonso said, placing a hand on his breastplate. “Because of an arrangement made generations ago, the honor of providing bodyguards to the royal family has belonged exclusively to the Bartolomei family. During their earliest years of life, all newborn royals are guarded by a more senior member of the family, but upon their debut, which usually happens on their tenth birthday, a Bartolomei of comparable age is selected and paired with them, and from that day on until the royal in question decides otherwise, they are inseparable.”

  “Oh, wow, that's kind of…” Chad trailed off, not because he didn't know what he wanted to say, but because he hesitated to express it, again experiencing an uncharacteristic amount of self-consciousness.

  Eh, fuck it.

  “That's kind of romantic,” Chad said, muscling through his reservations. Again, Alfonso laughed, and Chad bit down on the inside of his cheek.

  “I suppose I have to agree. That is how Mylo and I first met, afterall.”

  “Oh…” Chad let his head thump back against the wall behind him, staring up at the opposite wall. That was… way more than just kind of romantic, that was romantic as hell, in a way that spoke directly to that long atrophied part of him that was becoming harder and harder to ignore.

  “So that lot in there,” Chad said, raising both arms to point over his shoulder with a thumb. “Unless all five of those big guys in black armor are members of your family, I don’t think I saw any other guards.”

  “Hah,” Alfonso chuckled, shaking his head. “No, no, those are Lorenzo's legions, they're… something else. Most of them have already discharged their assigned protectors, since they themselves have become so powerful they feel they no longer need fear the assassin's blade.”

  Chad scoffed. “That's fuckin dumb,” he said, and Alfonso nodded slowly in agreement. “Like, what happens when they're asleep, huh?”

  “Even that is not an issue,” Alfonso said, letting out a sigh. “As you have experienced yourself, all members of the royal family are born gifted by the goddess with control over the elemental force of lightning.”

  Chad winced and nodded, remembering the experience of being shocked semi-unconscious by the prince’s hand. He didn’t know that the lightning thing was hereditary, but it made sense now that he heard it.

  Alfonso nodded back, holding up a gauntleted hand and wiggling his fingers. “Well, it may be difficult to believe, but living bodies also carry a small amount of their own lightning inside them, and one of the techniques every royal is taught is the ability to sense this lightning and be alert to those approaching them, even while asleep.”

  Chad blinked. That was… hadn’t he heard about something like that once? Animals that could hunt by sensing the minute amounts of electricity in living things? And all of them could do that?

  “So, there’s no way to sneak up on one of them?” Chad asked.

  “There is one way.”

  The answer came not from Alfonso, but from a new voice, directly beside Chad, causing him to yelp and jump several feet to the side, almost losing his balance entirely. The owner of the voice, standing right in the middle of the hallway with her hands folded politely, was a young girl looking to be in her early teens at most. Chad could tell right away that she was another one of Mylo’s siblings, from the expensive-looking red dress to the mass of golden curls, but when she tilted her head up to “look” at him, he saw that her eyes were closed.

  Behind the girl, another figure stood; a young boy with black hair and soft cheeks, dressed in an ill-fitting suit of leather. Chad couldn't tell which looked more stiff and uncomfortable: the boy or the armor. When he noticed Chad’s gaze on him, he let out a squeak and averted his eyes.

  “If the one approaching is someone they trusted utterly,” the girl continued. Her voice was quiet and her tone was gentle, but Chad still felt goosebumps traveling up his arms. “Then it would be trivial to strike one of us dead while our back was turned. Wouldn’t you agree, Emil?”

  “Y-y-yes, Your Highness,” the young boy stammered out, biting his lip, still staring at the carpet. “I imagine it would be… easy, under such circumstances.”

  “Quite easy,” the girl agreed, letting out a sigh and lowering her head. “Fortunately, our trust is not so easily earned. It would take years of effort, and such a would-be assassin would only have one chance to strike true. Can one even imagine the kind of dedication it would take to pull off such an attempt, or the tremendous pressure one would feel seconds before driving their blade into the back of one who considered them their closest ally?”

  She fell silent after that, and for a few moments just stood there, head bowed, eyes closed, hands folded in front of her, before raising her head and clearing her throat dramatically.

  “Ah-hem… pardon me, but you are blocking the doors.”

  “Oh sh– uh, right, sorry,” Chad said, shuffling out of the way awkwardly. The uncomfortable-looking young boy scrambled to reach out and open the door, allowing the princess to enter. After she passed, he looked up towards Alfonso, a weak smile appearing like a break in the clouds on an overcast day.

  “H-hey, Al,” the boy said.

  “Hello, Emil,” Alfonso said, returning Emil’s smile warmly.

  There was a shout from inside the room, and Emil squeaked and jumped, rushing inside and hurriedly closing the door behind him.

  Still reeling a bit from the encounter, Chad turned to Alfonso.

  “What the fuck was that?”

  “That was Princess Marcella,” Alfonso replied, his voice measured and his mouth pulled down into a frown. “And my youngest brother, Emil.”

  Chad didn't need to be a genius to figure out that something she'd said had particularly bothered the other man, and he also knew better than to prod, figuring it was best to keep quiet for now.

  No, wait… should I say something, actually? Is that the… “nice” thing to do in this situation? Ugh, why is this so unintuitive?

  “Do, uh…” Chad began, faltering momentarily then continuing, “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Chad was already suspecting he'd guessed wrong when Alfonso arched a quizzical brow at his question.

  “Pardon?”

  “Well, y’know, it… seemed like something she said got to you,” Chad explained, rubbing at the back of his neck. “N-nevermind, forget I asked…”

  “No, no, you… that is correct, I am just surprised. I suppose part of me still hasn't fully absorbed the fact that you are, er, you were…” Alfonso trailed off, frowning deeper and furrowing his brows. “This is a terrible apology. I will be fine, Chad, but thank you. The story behind her words is… best saved for another time.”

  “Uh, right, gotcha,” Chad said, attempting to laugh the discomfort away and failing miserably. At a loss for anything else to say, Chad just returned to his position flanking the doors, staring down at the ugly expensive carpet and idly tugging the chain that connected his shackles.

  After an eternity had passed, the doors finally clicked open, and Chad perked up, but was immediately sent backing away as the first ones to exit the meeting room turned out to be Princess Naomi and her entourage.

  “Careful, puppy,” Princess Naomi said teasingly, a wry grin plastered across her face. “Don't look too excited to see my brother again. People might get ideas.”

  At that, she brought the back of her hand up to cover her mouth, laughing haughtily all the way down the corridor. After that, the woman with the braid followed, then Princess Marcella, who also turned her head to regard Chad, but otherwise said nothing. Next came Hector, and the other man he couldn't name, chatting excitedly between themselves without so much as a glance in his direction. A muted rhythmic thumping preceded the quintet of black armored figures as they marched out into the hall, silent as a funeral procession.

  Lastly, Mylo emerged, a thoughtful expression on his face. He smiled as Chad and Alfonso turned to him, but when Chad opened his mouth to speak, the prince held up a hand.

  “Wait. Not here.”

  Oh come on!

  It was a simple request, but Chad had already been waiting for so long. Heedless of his frustration, Mylo turned and began to walk off down the corridor. Alfonso motioned for him to follow, and Chad let off an irritated groan at the ceiling before picking up his hooves and trudging after the prince. His worst fears were confirmed when Mylo began to trace the same path they’d just taken, leading them back to his room, and Chad settled in for the long-but-not-actually-that-long walk back to the outer tower, all the while grumbling under his breath and stamping his hooves like an angry horse. By the time Mylo’s bedroom doors were in sight again, Chad was glad for the anti-magic cuffs, because without them he was sure he’d be leaving scorch marks in the carpet.

  The trio quickly stepped into the room, and Mylo turned, already producing the key to said cuffs from his pockets.

  “Finally,” Chad huffed, holding his arms up. “Okay, so, what’s the big deal?”

  Mylo didn’t answer for a moment, just focused on unshackling Chad. Once he was free, Chad massaged his wrists while Mylo chewed thoughtfully on his lip.

  “We may have to make… further adjustments to the plan,” Mylo said, actually sounding somewhat concerned for the first time Chad had known him. He glanced to Alfonso for some clue of how he should be taking this, but found the bodyguard looking distracted, staring off towards one wall.

  “Why?” Chad asked, bracing himself for the answer.

  “Because a divine aspect of the Goddess of Love and War has appeared, and will be arriving at the capital within the week.”

  (End of Part 1)