Chương 30

Kirk stood up from his seat. The papers detailed how, truly, Margery had committed no crimes. In fact, those accusations had been fabricated to create a justification for protecting this woman. Because the Imperial Sanctum was seeking her. There was a lot that Kirk didn't understand about this world. So when the Maester had ignored the Administrator's requests that he consider the information, he hadn't known if he missed some detail.

Yet when the Maester had looked at the woman, licking his lips and announcing what he would do to her, Kirk recognized the same cruelty as Baelz. In the end, his suspicions built. Oswald did not follow the Conduit Code; this was the same ambiguity as the pamphlet. He spoke not with responsibility in mind, but focused on his own desires without worrying about the consequences. Outer Maester Oswald stared at him. Then he hastily stood, so Kirk didn't look down on him quite so much.

"You- what?"

"This is not justice," Kirk repeated. His whole being hummed with conviction. As he spoke, the unruly crowd calmed. Kirk didn't miss the way the Outer Maester's eyes flicked to the crowd, then back to him. Weighing, judging.

"Young Master Albion, you are young. You have not seen the many saboteurs that plague our Holds. You seek justice. How admirable that is." The Maester spread his hands.

"Yet softness in the face of rot threatens the whole of the Kingdom. We act decisively because that is the only way to survive."

"I might not have seen the criminals you have," Kirk countered.

"But it doesn't seem like you see the situation in front of you. She is not a criminal."

"They all say that, boy," Oswald grumbled.

"No one is at fault. The laws are too stringent. Circumstances conspired against them. It was a heat-of-the-moment decision. Context compelled them. Don't listen to any of it! Individuals determine their own fate. They make the choices. That's all we need to know."

"Do you know the choice she made?" Kirk's pressed his lips together.

"Tsk, Young Master Albion. Perhaps the situation has left you feeling a bit overwhelmed." Oswald shook his head. Unobtrusively, he crooked the pinky on his left hand Kirk pivoted and faced Mallow, the escort who usually spoke out at the Maester's prodding, but instead, an unassuming man from the other attendants raised his head. Kirk hadn't noticed him before. The man stretched out a hand- a blur shot toward Kirk's chest. Instantly, the Beast phantom growled and manifested. A strange instinct filled Kirk.

Rather than trying to block physically, the phantom bounded forward and intercepted that blur. There didn't seem to be an impact, but both vanished- Kirk swayed and paled. In that moment, only by lurching forward did he prevent a collapse. The weakness felt similar to when Michaels drained his battery.

"You-" Kirk spluttered. That moment gave him another chance to see the surrounding circumstances. No one had looked away from either the Outer Maester, Kirk, or the woman standing in the middle. The crowd didn't seem to notice the attack at all. Opposite him, the unassuming man frowned at Kirk. Oswald squinted at Kirk, then crooked his finger again. When nothing happened, he glared over at the unassuming man and seemed to notice the man's shock. Meanwhile, Kirk cleared his throat.

"All this woman did was rescue another."

"What are you talking about?" The Outer Maester snapped.

"According to the documents, she saved a defector from the Imperial Sanctum," Kirk said.

"She brought her here. That other woman is probably within the Administrator's chambers, even now."

"How did you endure- what?" The Outer Maester froze. A strange silence fell over the crowd.

"A defector?" The Troop Leader of the Dragon Spines… his jaw dropped.

"Administrator!" Outer Maester Oswald shrieked and wheeled around. He trembled as he glared at Ranya.

"Your office, immediately. There is no time to waste. Terreo, disperse the crowd; this farce is over." Kirk couldn't tell if the Maester was angry or fearful. But the armored Troop Leader barked out orders and began to shove away the other Conduits that had gathered to gawk. A split second later, Kirk looked back toward that unassuming figure, but bodies and limbs were being shoved together and swept away. Even Kirk's Enhanced Senses I couldn't follow.

Plus- Kirk groaned and pitched forward, only barely dragging a foot forward to stop himself from face-planting. Or at least he thought so. Yet he kept leaning forward, the strange weakness from that attack persisting. Several Conduits shouted and cursed as they were shooed away. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Just as Kirk was about to collapse, two hands caught his shoulders. He looked up into the face of the accused, Margery Wryton.

Tears streaked across her face. She pulled him into a hug and squeezed him with all the strength her arms possessed. Whispering into his ear, she said, "Thank you." Then she let go and made her own escape.

Administrator Ranya tried to keep her temper even, despite the self-righteousness of the Outer Maester in front of her.

"The first thing you should have done was inform me." His expression was frosty, undercut by the sheen of sweat on his forehead.

"That is the bare minimum expectation for such a dangerous political situation, and you failed."

"Oh, sod right off." Ranya snapped, her self-control shattering.

"That's exactly what I tried to do, Outer Maester. You ignored my every entreaty. This situation is on your head."

"How dare you," Oswald flushed.

"I will pry you from this middle of nowhere and make sure you never possess a modicum of relevance, ever again."

"Maesters have no influence over civilian appointments," Ranya sniffed, even as her heart began to beat rapidly. The two met each other's eyes. In his, fury and derision. In hers, bitterness and defiance. Although the law might be written one way, the way the world worked was very often the exact opposite. Maylor Balkan shifted next to Ranya, casting a long shadow. She released a long breath and tried to push all her aggravation out with it; like it or not, they needed to work together on this matter.

"Anyway. Now that the news is spread, it is spread. What are we going to do about it?"

"Indeed. There is only one solution. I'll return to the duchy immediately." The Outer Maester pursed his lips. The Administrator gestured to an aide.

"Alright, fetch the defector. At the very least, once she has returned-""What? You misunderstand." Oswald sneered at her.

"I will be returning with simply my team. I'll hand over responsibility to protect the Imperial to you until their status can be determined."

"Their status?" Ranya could feel her blood thundering through her temple and throat.

"Actually, our real focus should be another matter." Suddenly serious, Oswald steepled his sweaty fingers.

"During the tribunal, Terreo delivered an interesting testimonial. That the compensation for Sponsored Troops here is very competitive." Ranya just grunted. She simply couldn't fathom the Maester's sudden switch in conversation topic.

"As such, consider your budget decreased by a third, effective immediately." The Maester pronounced.

"In addition, I'll take the Dragon's Spine Troop and one other with me on my return, as an escort."

"Outer Maester." Maylor showed his teeth toward Oswald. Across the floor, his shadow began to lengthen. Especially the fingers of his hand.

"You take a step too far." Ranya just stared. Budget… decreased by a third? Now? When I'm so close- Oswald bit his lip and avoided Maylor's gaze. But his words were firm.

"Obviously I, too, carry responsibilities. A portion of my delegation will remain here to conduct a Rift inspection. Your ten-year is coming up, but I'll graciously advance the schedule-""You-" Ranya stepped forward, which prompted one of the escorts to step between Administrator and Outer Maester. With her teeth clenched, Ranya spared a glance for Maylor. Her longtime ally gave her a frank glance-- if she wanted, he would force the issue.

His threats were only relevant if the Maester walked out of here to announce them. But Ranya bit down her fury. She swung her body away like a teenager slamming a door closed. Taking the hint, the Outer Maester scurried out of the room. Which gave Ranya leave to shove out her window and bellow at the sunset.

"Wound your mother! Wound your father!" It was a small bit of satisfaction that she saw Maylor's lips twitch. He gave her a few seconds of simply breathing before he moved next to her.

"The fact he wasn't willing to take the defector is extremely strange. Do you think they know?" Ranya's hand rose, slipping underneath her neckline and gripping the pendant that she wore constantly. Worn smooth by time, but still it felt like a risk. It was warm as her skin; it was her entire heart. It was the last piece of physical evidence she possessed that the four Great Families of the Kingdom had been five.

"That seems unlikely," Ranya whispered.

"We've been so careful. We've been making preparations, but what Administrator hasn't? Now that it's come to this- it's too soon. We don't have the resources. We need another three years. Preferably five. If we make a move now-""Don't rush," Maylor said. He put a hand on her shoulder.

"If nothing else, the Outer Maester is alarmed. The fact that he is trying to hamstring us with the Troops means we will have leverage later. The schedule will need to be adjusted, but we are not out of cards yet." Ranya closed her eyes. She refocused. When she opened them, her attention turned to practicalities.

"Yet we will be under more scrutiny than ever, won't we? From the Maesters, but now from the Sanctum-""Pardon, companions," A voice said from the doorway.

"Shall I return another time?" Ranya and Maylor looked at the slender figure in the doorway. With her hood down and standing opposite the window, the figure's silver, shoulder-length hair glittered like a campfire's embers. She smiled.

"You might have summoned me, but your posture reads of urgency and worry."

"That's the life as a civil servant." Ranya forced a smile onto her own face, ignoring how stiff her cheeks felt.

"I have to apologize, miss. But you will need to remain here for slightly longer. Our Maesters are still mulling over your position."

"I find my quarters palatable," the silver-haired imperial shrugged.

"But there is one matter- I have heard the whispers amongst the workers. They call me a Defector. Yet it is not I who has turned their ear from the eternal dream. In truth, this separation brings me great sorrow. But no other option was offered." Ranya, used to this insistence, just nodded. With another lip shrug of a smile, the defector drifted back toward her room. When the other was gone, Ranya closed her eyes before speaking.

"So what next?"

"We act normal," Maylor counseled.

"At the very least, we know the next curveball life will throw at us. So we make sure, when it comes, we can take advantage of it."