Argrave walked down cold stone stairs slowly, his big feet forcing him to take the steps slowly lest he fall. He very nearly bumped into Melanie at the bottom. She stood holding an iron gate. Argrave entered, ducking beneath the low-hanging iron bars and entering into the dungeons of Castle Cookpot. Anneliese followed just behind.

The cells had been cleared out a great deal in the past few days on account of their fearmongering efforts in Atrus and beyond. Ruleo’s cell was close, likely so that the guards could keep a close eye on him. Argrave waited for her to fit the key in and unlock it, then looked back as his royal guard spread out across the room.

“Where’s Gala—” Argrave trailed off when he saw the big snow elf rush down the stairs, rejoining them. “What’s wrong?” he asked him.

“Nothing, Your Majesty,” the Veidimen dismissed. When Argrave stared and waited for more information, he elaborated, “Something was broken. No one else seemed to be trying to fix it, so I spoke to someone.”

Argrave shrugged dismissively, then looked to the cell ahead. Opposite him, in the corner of the cell…

#####

Ruleo leaned his body forward against his chains, using them to support his weight. It tugged at his body, but compared to the stake driven through both of his hands, the pressure was nonexistent. The sound of many footfalls made him lift his head up. He saw his keeper, Melanie, holding a torchlight. There was someone huge at the cell door, though. Ruleo focused his failing eyes.

“Good lord…” the man said, stepping within. The shadows changed, and Ruleo’s eyes widened as he recognized Argrave. “Trying times for you, looks like.”

“Heh…” Ruleo managed a laugh as some of the vigor he thought would never return flared. “Got the guts… to talk to me? Never thought I’d see the day.”

Argrave fell to one knee. “It’s taking more guts to smell you than talk to you. I think your hands are infected.”

Ruleo wanted to spit at him. Behind, someone else entered the cell—a vaguely familiar white-haired elf. She stood in the corner, watching.

“Durran told me you gathered necromantic things in an Order of the Rose ruin. That you intended to send them against us to combat Gerechtigkeit’s eventual advent, weaken his arrival,” Argrave began without ceremony.

Ruleo only stared with hate. “What do you want?”

The claimant king sighed. “Do you have any idea where Georgina might have gone after the defeat?” he asked.

“Hard to see through stone. Last I saw, most of her men fell to sword or spell. Might check underneath the corpses you made,” he suggested.

Argrave put one hand atop his knee and clenched. “Guess not. I had hoped having a couple days to think about the coming calamity might make you reasonable.”

Ruleo closed his eyes. “When people leave you in a cell for days to rot, you give up on the hope of a reasonable world.”

Argrave’s voice came quieter as he said, “If I’d known your hands were bound like this, I might’ve given this more priority.”

Melanie pointed at him from behind the king and said defensively, “I did nothing wrong, Your Majesty. See if you’re so merciful when he’s been

and asked, “Given we’re talking… is there a way out of this for me?” his voice carried some desperation, and he

at Durran, Melanie, and my royal guard. You were planning for worse—having thousands of men pledged to my service

fact, that’s about the end of my

would stop you,” Argrave stared with his cold gray eyes. “Fact of the

supposed to raise my hopes for a royal pardon?” Ruleo narrowed his eyes, suspecting this was another of the sadist’s games the royal bastard so loved

rose up to his full height once again, looking back to the white-haired elf. She

hold. I don’t want to kill you—you’ll be of great use when the sky starts to fall. At the same time, you tried to kill someone

rose, yet he could only laugh in response—a wheezing, breathless whistle of

people I could make use of, and a lot of opportunities that are being unrealized,” Argrave continued. “Me and my coterie alone can only travel to so many locations. There are ruins I’d love to visit, but can’t. And with people like you, Melanie, Ganbaatar, all at my fingertips… that’s a fine little team forming.

his head to look the king in the eye but couldn’t. Where

going to change. You’ll remain a prisoner, but under less… strenuous conditions,” Argrave said kindly. “And in time, you’ll be

“Given how well you regard my abilities…

to die instead, talk to your manager,” Argrave said dryly. “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised by this outcome. Over time, you’ll come to see things my way… because you’re smart and

at Argrave’s smile, and felt it was markedly wickeder than

#####

were covered in blood, and he wore a ratty shirt with his armor removed and placed off to the side. The man held a salamander in

head up to spot Elenore. “I see,” she raised her hand to

you said you’d talk to Melanie and me in a few hours,” he

changed,” Elenore nodded, stepping in

cleaning the blood from his

did. I think he wants us to mend things,” she looked to the red crescent moon in the sky. “I don’t disagree with that. I…

his hand and pointed it at her. “And you made the right choice. Eating these things to fix my fingers is a mistake. You’d think I’d learn by now to imitate you.

closer. “So, can we set aside the stiff conversation?” she held out her hand for a

then paused and pulled it back. “I’m a bit bloody. But yeah, I’m done pouting. So long as you realize that I said what I said because I don’t want you

“…why?” she asked quietly.

Durran looked for the

you think that I’d be dense enough to ignore your teasing forever?” Elenore asked evenly, walking

smile but came close. “Yes, honestly. I guess the ice in the shirt was pushing

Elenore sighed, saying nothing.

push things,” Durran explained. “You’ve had your problems, to put it lightly. Maybe you’re disillusioned in the romance department. I got the distinct impression you weren’t interested in me, so I was thinking about pulling

to look at Durran. “If I’m tied up, it’s even worse. All

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