“How odd, you weren’t part of our game, were you?” Princep Vincent says with scrunched face. “Ah, I know, I probably just overlooked you.”

  “Game, Your Highness?” I ask, ignoring how absurd the jibe at my height is given that he’s not even a head taller than me.

  “Why the one where we try to get through the maze of course. But if you aren’t part of it, why are you here all alone?”

  “Um…”

  “Oh, let me guess. Secret rendezvous?”

  “No, your highness…” I shake my head, slightly embarrassed.

  “No, of course not. Who would? But if not that? I know, you grew tired of the party and wanted to get away from people, but it would feel too sad if you just left.” He puts on a pouty face.

  My face twitches, both from the insult and the insight.

  He smirks. “I got it right, didn’t I?”

  “…Yes, I suppose your highness.”

  His smirk turns triumphant. “I thought so. There’s always one of you at these sort of things.”

  “If you say so, your highness.”

  “I do.” He takes a step towards me and I instinctively take a step back. I shouldn’t have, but it’s hard not to meet his expectations of prey when I can’t act the predator.

  “Hmm, how odd. It’s almost as if you’re…” he suddenly takes several more steps towards me. I allow him to reach, since while one step can be explained, a sequence cannot be. Awkwardly close already, he leans in and sniffs my neck.

  My face reddens in surprise. I could kill him. It’d be easy. Just draw a knife with a flick of the wrist and drive it into his extended throat. If Adrian is right about him potentially being the next emperor, then the investigators might assume his competitors did the deed. It might cause chaos, maybe even enough damage to be worth my mission. I might not even have to flee if I’m lucky.

  …But. I can kill him, sure, but I can’t offer him. It’d be too dangerous, especially since I don’t know what abilities he has. Lacking a reward, thoughts of killing vanish, and I make the only other response there is and sniff him back.

  He leaps back, giggling. “How amusing. You smell of fear, like I thought, but to think you’d be so impertinent.”

  “Impertinent, your highness? Forgive me, I’m from an isolated territory and assumed exchanging scents was common custom here.” I lie, deliberately badly. If he finds me amusing, then I’m beginning to find a way out of this situation between predator and prey.

  And what is this situation? He claims I’m afraid. Am I? How odd that I don’t know. Certes, I have no reason to be. Most people would be thrilled to be alone with his highness, and I should be too. Naturally I fear discovery, but no more so than with any other. I thought I’ve resolved myself to the risk inherent to this mission.

  So, if not that, my supposed fear must just be from him.

  “Doubtless,” he says, doubting, “but regardless, why should you be afraid? Of me?”

  “Why shouldn’t I be? You’re potentially the next emperor, aren’t you?”

  He laughs. “Did Adrian tell you that? They’re kind, but surely, they misspoke. Surely Adrian knows that if any of us shall become the next sovereign it’ll likely be my beloved sister – born of father’s own womb. While I, born of a woman who did not impregnate father in return, have the least support of the three natural children in our bunch. Indeed, even adopted Avery is starting to catch up to me. No, I’m certain my fate is to be married off to some client monarch.”

  He doesn’t hide the resentment in his voice, emphasizing ‘beloved’ to suggest that she is not lovable. It’s clearly a calculated strategy to gain support by aggressively trying to make himself seem sympathetic, but there’s something real in the emotions too. Perhaps there’s a way in his words that’ll allow me to benefit from this chance encounter, but merely offering my meagre support would be too obvious. Besides, he’s still looking at me as prey.

  “Well, I suppose I wouldn’t know about any of that being from such as minor house. Too far above my notice.” I feign indifference, maybe that’ll provoke a useful response.

  Suddenly he’s right in front of me again with a scowl on his face and pushes my shoulder, causing me to stumble back as he follows along until I hit the hedge wall which he pins me lightly against with his arm. Having immobilized me, albeit more socially than physically, he leans in and whispers harshly. “Don’t toy with me Monhal. You’re bad at it.”

  How did he move so quickly? Even a high level knight shouldn’t be able to surpass my ability to track. Surely he’s not a teleporter. He doesn’t act like they’re supposed to at any rate. Stunned and perplexed it’s all I can do to stammer a denial. “I would n-never, y-your highness.”

  “No, no, don’t be like that.” He pokes my forehead with his free index finger, pushing the back of my head back into the leaves. “Think back, you took a good whiff of me remember. What did you smell?”

  “I’m not so practiced at discerning meaning from scents as you,” I say truthfully. I’ve only recently became enhanced enough to pull it off.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  “Oh, come now! It’s instinctual! What thought crossed your mind?”

  I think back to the experience. Like me, he doesn’t wear perfume and trusts the enchantments on his clothes to manage his odour. So, what’s left? If I had to assign it to an emotion, what would it be? Confidence maybe… no, certainty.

  He smiles as he sees the understanding on my face. “That’s right, you don’t get to play coy about your support. I already knew it was mine the moment you showed fear.”

  …Maybe I should kill him after all, Anar’s boon or not.

  “Your highness.” A familiar voice says flatly from behind the princep, and I slam my knife back into its sheath.

  Vincent scowls and speaks without looking, “I’m busy, Bart.”

  “You instructed to report when that matter progressed. You said it was urgent.” The mercenary says in his clipping voice, casually leaning against the maze wall, wearing darkened light armour with a heavy broadsword strapped to his waist.

  Vincent sighs, then puts on a winning smile as he turns away and speaks with a benevolent tone. “So I did. Where is it?”

  “Small town by the coast. I sent a team to retrieve it. They’ll be back by week’s end.”

  “And you didn’t go with them because?”

  Bart shrugs. “I’m busy.”

  “Doubtless.” He pauses to think, taking the classic chin pose, then turns to leave the maze saying “I no longer have time to tarry here. Tell Avery I’ve gone.”

  “Yes, your highness.” Bart says with the shallowest of bows.

  Vincent is about to leave sight when he suddenly stops and turns to me. “You said you’re from Caethlon, right?”

  “Near, your highness,” I correct.

  He scoffs. “What’s the difference? The border’s gone anyways. It’ll be amusing to have a Caethlian pet. Maybe I’ll even say you’re a tamed rebel.” Then, as if he just made a declaration to be carried out, he turns again and exits.

  I turn to Bart who’s still leaning casually on the hedge. “So, you’re working for the princep?”

  He shrugs. “It pays my bills.”

  “Traveling expenses you mean.”

  He squints his eyes questioningly then shrugs again. “Among other things.”

  “Right… I heard you got in, congratulations.”

  “Same to you.”

  “… Thanks for interrupting.”

  He nods. “Thought you might want me to.”

  I’m deciding whether to declare myself in his debt when a blur of motion lands from over the hedge wall causing us both to instinctively grab the swords at our sides. I relax with a confused smile as I recognize Ser Terry, but Bart keeps his grip.

  “Ser Terry, I think jumping over the hedge is considered cheating,” I say, bemused and amused.

  Ser Terry smiles to me, but his hand steadies his sword for drawing upon seeing Bart, and looks meaningfully at him as he speaks. “I heard your voice. You sounded distressed.”

  “…Perhaps I was… Not by him.” I say, causing Ser Terry to relax his guard slightly, but not Bart.

  “You know this clown?” Bart asks me, eyes on Ser Terry.

  “Yeah, we were on a team together in the exam… We’re friends.” It must be true. Why else would he perform acrobatics for the sake of someone who, he asserts, shot him?

  He looks thoughtfully at us before finally relaxing his stance completely. “Well, isn’t that interesting.”

  “Not really,” I say, nonplussed. “Why, is there something about I should know about him?” I turn pointedly to Ser Terry to remind him of when I asked him the same question and he refused to answer.

  Ser Terry grimaces but remains silent. Bart sees this and speaks probingly. “Many, doubtless. But unfortunately, I lack the details to tell.”

  “Hmm,” I say, “pity, he said much the same about you.”

  “Did he now?” Bart side eyes Ser Terry and shakes his head. “Well, it’s been pleasant to meet you again, but I must leave. Many things to do tonight.” With a flourish of his short cape, he exits.

  We stand there for a moment in the silence of his absence before Ser Terry speaks. “So… you two were alone together?”

  I side eye him. “Briefly.”

  “What were you… never mind… Listen, I wanted to say I forgive you.”

  “For what?” I say, hackles raised.

  He gives me a ‘really?’ look before sighing. “Shooting me. Don’t give me that. It doesn’t matter who technically shot it. I forgive you, and… I’m sorry for sneaking into your room. I see that it was a bad idea now.”

  “Trying to sneak in.” I say reflexively then sigh. “I forgive you… and I see that setting the trap up was… an excessive remedy to a troubled mind.”

  “But you aren’t apologizing.” He states.

  “…No.”

  “Right… I guess I’ll have to be happy with that.”

  I nod. “Look, thanks for inviting me, but tonight’s been exhausting. I think I’ll head home now.”

  He nods, glancing towards where Bart stood. “I’ll invite you to something else then. Hopefully, the next party will be more enjoyable if you don’t have to pull bolts out of walls beforehand.”

  “A bit unlikely,” I say seriously, causing a confused look before I break into a smile. “Lodging bolts into walls is a habit at this point.”

  He laughs and we part.

  I start for the dorms but restlessness takes me. The encounter with the princep was stressful and potentially disastrous. Alan will have insight, and his house isn’t that much farther than the dorm, so I head there instead. The servant lets me in, and I’m about to head up to my room when Alan descends the stairs.

  “Hey.” I say.

  “Hey. What are you doing back? Is something the matter?”

  “Maybe a little. I was going to talk to you in the morning.”

  “We can talk now. I wouldn’t want to miss sleep worrying.”

  “You’re not…” I glance up to his room, “busy?”

  He shakes his head. “I’m alone tonight.”

  “Oh. My condolences.”

  “That’s not how you… never mind. Let’s talk in my office.”

  I convey my encounter with the Princep, causing his face to grow grim.

  “I’ve heard concerning rumours about him,” he says.

  “Doubtless, but just as doubtless is that he’ll make a good contact. Should I pursue a relationship?”

  “…No.” He says, but with much consideration and was obviously about to say something less definite before a twinge of emotion takes him. “He’s not worth the risk.”

  I nod. “I will attempt to create a distance then.”

  “Good. But who told you that the empress is going to relent on choosing an heir? I hadn’t heard that.”

  “My former teammate, an Adrian Blakerhal.”

  “Blakerhal? Charles Blakerhal’s kid?”

  “I don’t know their parents’ names. They said that their father was an advisor to the Empress.”

  “More like the adviser to the Empress. Remember that ‘diplomatic coup’ against Hyclion I told you about? He’s the one who orchestrated it. He’s the reason Caethlon fought alone.”

  “…I see,” I say. “Well, I guess that makes them an even better contact then. Should I pursue?”

  “…No reason not to. Charles will probably check the story of any of his kid’s new friends, but we wouldn’t be doing this if we didn’t think your cover would hold, and it might be suspicious if you suddenly back away. Are you okay?”

  I shrug. “It’s a bit of a surprise, but it’s not like we were friends, so the news isn’t devastating.” A lot of their behaviour that I didn’t even realize was amiss now makes more sense (such as their views on government and occasional suspiciousness), but it’s not like they had anything to do with their father’s machinations.

  “Oh, good, I guess. Well, is there anything else you want to tell me?”

  Is there? No reason to tell him about the crossbow incident. Perhaps I should go through all my new acquaintances and see what he knows about their families, but that can wait. “No,” I say getting up. “I think that’s all for now. Good night.”

  “Hey,” he says, “I’m glad you came to me with this.”

  I shrug. “You’re my handler. It’d be foolish not to.”

  “Y-yeah. I guess you just seem so independent sometimes that I forget. Good night.”