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Seventeen: A New Master

            Garrett straightened his back, letting his tail hang low and not making eye contact with the Akkedisian Lords before him. Oderan stood there with his claws clasped firmly behind his back, while to his right stood an older lizard with light blue scales. His voice was stern when he spoke, but not cruel. His eyes likewise seemed discerning, and yet they lacked the unadulterated malice that lay in the Khasteers. Garrett had learned to tell the two apart over the years, for the difference between a cruel master and a strict one was measured in leagues.

            “Go on then, give us your names.” Lorric barked.

            “Garrett, my Lord.” He answered quickly, bowing slightly. Next to him, Bailey did the same. It was early in the morning, and the other slaves of the house - of which there were three - had already gotten up and begun their duties for the day. Oderan had come by soon after however and informed the two of them to wait for he and his Uncle to come by for instruction and task assignment.

            “Right then. I understand you were a house member Bailey, so that’s easy enough. I’ll get you to see to the bedding, make sure it’s all clean and made, and keep the hearths stoked. Off you go.” Bailey nodded respectfully, turning about. Lorric cleared his throat. “I suggest you find Thromal to begin, he’s the short one with cream scales and three horns, he’s on bedding today and can help show you around.” Garrett saw Bailey smile slightly as he walked off. Even if Garrett wasn’t as optimistic as his wolf, it was certainly a change of pace from their first day in the Khasteer house.

            “And Garrett…” Lorric began, a claw going up and playing lightly with his right horn.

            “You were a yard worker for the Khasteer’s, yes?” Oderan asked, and the Akita answered in the affirmative. “Hmm. We don’t really have as large an outdoor area as they do, and not even half as many plants that require active care. He could…sweep I suppose?” Lorric raised an eyebrow, and Oderan shrugged. “It doesn’t seem fair to set him on something difficult just yet.”

            “Very well, Garrett if you can go and find--” Lorric began.

            “No, don’t bother her. I only have kata training here today Uncle, I’ll show him where we keep things.” Oderan interrupted. The older drake shrugged, as if it didn’t bother him at all.

            “Fine, have it your way then. Take care your new help doesn’t get their fur on everything please Oderan.” He rolled his eyes as he spoke, marching off towards the stairs. The Sarrosum mansion was larger than the Khasteers, but not quite as new and pristine. A little old, it was somewhat of a maze to get around, and Garrett was already worried about getting lost in the warren.

            “Come.” Oderan waved, heading down a hallway. His voice lowered as they put distance between themselves and Lorric. “You look like an Akita to me, am I right?” He asked.

            “That’s…yes, right my Lord. Uh…very observant.” Garrett replied. He hated talking to Lords with a passion. In the Tevarian camp, grunts and shrugs were all that the slaves needed to give. It wasn’t until the Khasteer’s household that he was forced to actually interact with his owners.

            “Bah.” Oderan waved a claw in a very feminine kind of motion. “I spend so much time over there, it would be embarrassing if I missed it. You’re quite rare, lovely fur.” Garrett blushed, unsure what he could say. “I am sorry to be putting you both to work though.” The duellist continued. “But alas, we must keep up appearances, for both the other staff’s sake and my Uncles. Once he departs this afternoon though, we three can sit down and have a real conversation.”

            “Oh, ah…alright then, my--” Garrett began, but he was cut off.

            “And don’t call me ‘my Lord’, please. I detest it, and even the other staff refrain from using it. I find using official titles in your own home distasteful, at best.”

            “Um, okay.” Garrett swallowed. He wasn’t as optimistic as Bailey, and was still half expecting to do something wrong and have the cold blood explode into some kind of rage. They’d fallen asleep quickly last night, but not before Bailey had cuddled into him, whispering that maybe ‘things will be okay’. Garrett wasn’t so sure. He loved Bailey, adored him, would probably die for him if it came to that…but the boy was a tad naïve sometimes. It would be endearing, if it didn’t put them in danger.

            He followed Oderan into a spacious kitchen, red bricks patterning the floor. The Akkedisian showed him to a small back room, the wall of which was lined with brooms and mops.

            “Do you…know how to sweep?” Oderan asked.

            “I’m sure I’ll manage.” Garrett replied. Oderan glanced around, before putting his claw gently on Garrett’s shoulder.

            “I can’t imagine the life you’ve led, truly. And I’m sorry you’re still a slave, but the people who work for me are never hurt. I promise you that. The only thing I ask is that you tell no one what you know of me and Albion. It’s our secret, and we shared it with you of our own choice, but it’s not yours to go on spreading – even to the other staff.” Garrett’s jaw firmed.

            “Of course.” He said softly, stepping into the room and picking up a broom with a wide bottom. “I’ll…get to work now then.” Oderan nodded.

            “Try to relax, if you can. Even my Uncle, who isn’t as lenient as I, has very reasonable expectations of the work he wants to see complete. Good luck.” He said, before turning and walking off.

            What a strange person. Garrett thought, as he began to methodically sweep up the dust on the kitchen floor. Oderan may be weird, but so long as he didn’t hurt Bailey it would be okay. He could play whatever games this new house would inevitably have if it kept his wolf safe.

            He swept for a few hours, losing himself in the work as he moved from room to room. At one point another slave brought him some cool water to drink, introducing herself as Marron at the same time. She seemed friendly enough, and Garrett wasn’t able to easily press any nasty details out of her about the new Masters. It proved nothing in his mind though; he’d been a slave for a lot longer than Bailey. He’d been owned by people who had reputations of being honourable and ‘kind’ before. All it meant was that they were kind by slaver standards. Maybe you’d get some extra food, or another blanket when it was cold, but you were still worked to the bone, they still discarded you like refuse, and they still beat you when you failed. No matter what they said about being just and righteous.

            Bailey came through with the cream scaled one called Thromal a little past noon, and they set to making lunch for the Akkedisian Lords. Garrett had finished with the kitchen by then and was on to other rooms, but he could still hear them talking amicably as they worked. He even heard Bailey laugh once, a rare sound but one that made his chest flutter.

            That damned wolf has ruined me. He thought, recalling his old, closed-off, safe demeanour.

            “Garrett?” Thromal asked after some time spent preparing food, his head poking out of the kitchen and into Garrett’s hallway. “That’s your name right?”

            “…yes?” The Akita answered after a moment, suspicious.

            “Are you coming? Lord Lorric and Oderan have their food.” He said, staring as if Garrett were a little slow.

            “What? I don’t understand, am I supposed to wait in there with them or…?” Thromal shook his head, speaking carefully, as if to a child.

            “You see, when it’s lunch time, we eat some food. Come.” He waved for Garrett to follow, and after a sigh the Akita hefted up his broom and obeyed. He found Bailey, Thromal, and two other Akkedisian slaves in a back room sitting cross legged on the floor. They each held a small wrap with some meat tucked into it and were eating quietly.

            “Here.” Bailey said, smiling and holding out one for him.

            What is wrong with this place? Garrett wondered, feeling totally out of sorts. This felt…like he was doing something bad. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of nervousness as he sat down next to his wolf, accepting the wrap.

            “Do they…know we’re doing this?” He asked, before taking a bite. The meat was cold, but not awful. He chewed slowly.

            The wrap isn’t even stale.

            “They insist on it.” The one he knew as ‘Marron’ said. “Well, Oderan does. Lady Aileen once tried to stop it, but he told us to keep doing it. She said we were being lazy, they had a fight…he won.” Her voice was painfully chipper. Bailey laid a paw on his knee.

            “Garrett.” He began softly. “It’s not like before. Just enjoy it.” Garrett swallowed. It was too good; he couldn’t trust it. Every single victory he’d ever had had been over the smallest of things; acquiring bandages, not getting killed, eating extra food. There simply were no ‘good’ nobles, it was a fact of life. And yet…here was a plethora of evidence to contradict him, and he was trying to force himself not to believe it?

            Why? Even if it’s not true, why not just enjoy the lie for now? He asked himself.

As he took another bite of his wrap, it hit him what was wrong; it all came the same kinds of thoughts he’d had before he met Bailey, the things he’d believed about himself in the past. It was because he’d never been able to escape with people, it was because of how much it hurt when people he cared about died. It was because he’d lived a life of being trampled on and beaten, because he’d always been told how worthless and useless he was. It had begun with his father selling him at just fifteen years old, and continued relentlessly until now.

            It was the idea that he deserved this life.

            I don’t deserve this pain. He thought, looking at Bailey, who was chewing contently. And neither does he. He closed his eyes, sighing deeply.

            “Are you alright?” Bailey asked, poking him. Garrett opened his eyes and smiled gently.

            “I think so. At least…for now.” He answered, finishing the food. The others did likewise, and the slaves quickly cleaned up any mess, returning to each of their jobs individually. Garrett worked for another hour or two sweeping and dusting, until Oderan came to fetch him, with Bailey in tow.

            “Is he gone?” Garrett asked quietly, as the Akkedisian approached. Oderan nodded.

            “Yes. The other staff are all working upstairs, would you come sit with me in the back room?” He agreed, following the duellist into an open sun room, three of the walls made of glass. He and Bailey were offered a seat, and Oderan even put a small plate of biscuits on the table. Both of the Tevarians were far too timid to take one, until the lizard insisted they do so. Garrett almost couldn’t deal with the sweetness, how long had it been since he’d had a biscuit? Had he ever eaten one?

            “This room must have cost a fortune. Glass like this is so expensive…” Bailey muttered, flushing as he realised he’d said it out loud. Oderan nodded.

            “Yes. My family…has fallen a little in status over the last few years, but during and right after the war they were very affluent. That’s why we have such a large house, yet so few staff.” He sighed. “Ah, but my sister is determined to see that done with. She wants us to rise up further, hence the marriage to Urie.” He hesitated. “But…you probably don’t care much about that.”

            “Er, sorry.” Bailey said.

“It’s perfectly understandable.” Oderan said.

He proceeded to give them a brief overview of he and Albion’s illicit relationship. Once he started it all sort of poured out, the Akkedisian going on about how the things they’d done to keep it secret, the people they’d paid, the sheer amount of stress and hardship the two had faced (emphasising that he couldn’t understand how Bailey and Garrett had survived). He covered a lot of ground very quickly, finally coming to the upcoming duel.

            “The High Rank bout is in four days, and after that it’s another three years until the next one. If I manage to defeat Ferei, then the Godking will grant me a boon of my choosing. I intend to petition him to let me marry Albion, keep my name, and leave the city.” Bailey’s eyes went wide, and even Garrett scoffed slightly. Such a…bold move. It seemed insane. Declare publically like that his love for a male? And not just a male, but a panther?

            Not just a filthy sodomite, but a race-traitor to boot. I guess everyone has their own shit. Garrett thought, almost amused.

            “But if you have money, why don’t you two just leave now?” Bailey asked, leaning forward. Oderan promised they could ask any question they had, and he smiled wanly before answering.

            “Ah, it feels so strange to talk about with people other than Albion. We’ve had only each other for so very long now.” He shook his head. “As for your question…you have to understand Akkedisian politics. We could leave, it’s true. We could take some money and elope. But no city would take us, we could buy no decent land, and if they felt particularly scorned soldiers might be sent after us. It’s a matter of preserving honour. It’s because of my name, unfortunately. I was born with blood deemed too noble to just leave.”

            “That’s insane.” Garrett muttered, and Oderan nodded.

            “Yes. I don’t want to stay in this fucking city any longer than I have to. I just want to move to some small outlet off the Empire with Albion, buy a house, and have him smith for us. That’s all we want.”

            “It seems so simple.” Bailey said softly, and Oderan nodded.

            “Infinitely far away, yet tantalisingly close. Ah…but what of you two?” He asked, cocking his head. Bailey almost answered truthfully, Garrett could read it on his face. He came very close to telling Oderan that he had been the son of Aldrich, the Lord of War for the Tevarian Empire. But he knew, thankfully, no good could come of sharing that knowledge.

            “We met in the slave encampment, and just…I don’t know.” He said instead, looking to Garrett. The Akita put a paw on the wolf’s, squeezing. Like Oderan had said, it felt weird to do it in front of someone else. “Slaves aren’t privately owned on the Tevarian side, they’re owned by slave masters and rented out for work. But it’s basically the same kind of life. When Urie tried to buy me, Garrett volunteered himself to come too. Then…I don’t know…but it just…happened.”

            “And was Urie the one to do that to you Garrett?” Oderan asked, motioning to Garrett’s missing fingers. The Akita nodded, but gave no further information. Oderan sighed deeply, bringing his claws together in his lap.

            “If Godking Szaresh grants my request, we’ll take you both with us.” He said. “Once we arrive wherever it is we’re going, maybe Glimmeris, we’ll give you some money and clothes…and you can go with your writs of ownership in claw, er…paw.” Bailey and Garrett’s mouths fell open, a short gasp escaping the Akita’s lips. They stared totally stunned. Garrett felt his paw crushed slightly from the wolf’s grip as Bailey squeezed him.

            “I…really?” Bailey asked, and the Akkedisian nodded.

            “I’d like to save every slave in the city, to end it all really. But it’s simply not feasible. But…you two are like us. I know about Oksana, and I can guess about the fingers. If anybody deserves some help, it’s the two of you.” Bailey’s paw slipped free of Garrett’s, going to his face, he pressed them into his face, breathing heavy. Garrett tried to stay calm himself, but inside he felt nauseous.

            Do I deserve this? He thought. To be this happy? To actually have hope?

            “Really? You’d…really?” Bailey breathed, tears on his face. Oderan nodded.

            “Please, you have to remember that my promise is contingent on a lot of things. Firstly, if I can even defeat Ferei. He’s a dual swordfighter, and that’s always been something I struggle to fight the most. On top of that he’s Half-Dragon, while I’m only a Highblood Drake, he doesn’t have the wings – nobody does anymore – but he’s naturally stronger than I am. It will be…a difficult battle.” He pressed. Bailey wiped at his eyes, leaning forward.

            “I’ve seen you fight!” He exclaimed, voice hushed but excited. “I’m certain you can kill him!”

            “It’s not a fight to the death.” Oderan corrected. “But thank you. Still, Ferei is an exceptional fighter, I’ve only seen him duel a clawful of times but they were always clear-cut victories. And then if I do defeat him, I have to announce my boon there before the Godking. If Szaresh is angered…he could imprison me, or worse.” Garrett swallowed. So close to freedom, so close it had been promised to them…and it could be snatched away by some petty ruler.

            “Oh.” Bailey said, face falling.

            “He’s never denied anyone before, and it’s a sacred right that the victor of the High Rank bout be granted his boon. But still, Szaresh needs not adhere to the rules of his own faith.”

            “Is he truly a God?” Garrett asked suddenly. “You all worship him but…is he? In a real sense?” Oderan stared back blankly for a moment, considering.

            “I…don’t know.” He said slowly. “He’s immortal, I know that. But some say that the Ancientblood Dragons were all like that. But then…where are they now?”

            “I see.” Garrett replied.

            “I just don’t want you to get your hopes up. Regardless, if it all fails…you’ll have a good life here I think. My Uncle is not a monster like my sister or Urie. And if you work for a few years he’s likely to grant your freedom then too. This is at least the best place for you to be in the city.” Bailey was still sniffling, but his tears had stopped. His face was all red beneath the dark fur, his ears and tail twitching.

            “Thank you. For even just this. Oksana…Urie…they wouldn’t have let us live long I think.” He said quietly, and Oderan nodded. Garrett was glad to hear the news, but he still felt crushed. He simply wasn’t a person that things went right for; it seemed impossible right then that Szaresh would grant Oderan’s request.

            “It’s the least I can do right now.” He replied. “Ah, but you two make such a cute couple.” Garrett couldn’t help smiling at that, glancing to Bailey. The moment was spoiled as a high, shrill voice screeched through the house, causing all three of them to jump in their seats.

            “ODERAN!? WHERE ARE YOU?!” It didn’t sound angry, just insistent. Oderan stood quickly, gesturing for the two slaves to do the same.

            “Quickly, go make yourselves busy somewhere. That would be my sister, try to avoid her if you could.” He smiled one last time, and the two Tevarians scurried off into the maze of a house.

            Oderan then headed towards the kitchen, seeking out the charming Aileen. He found her there as he’d thought, picking out small boiled sweets from within a metal tin. He heard one crunch in her teeth as she saw him. She smiled innocently, her lightly dress flowing and loose as she curtsied.

            How harmless she appears on the outside. Oderan thought.

            “There’s no need to mock me sister.” He said, leaning against the bench. “I would have thought married life would keep you busy? Bored without me already?” Aileen gave a gratuitous eye roll, sighing.

            “No, of course not. It’s nice to be a house to myself, actually. But I’m afraid poor Urie was raised without many sweets, if that shocks you…so we have yet to stock the house and it’s not like you can get these just anywhere, I was dying!” She crunched another coloured lolly in her mouth, grinning. “Besides, I wanted to have a chat with you, before the big High Rank match.”

            “Right.” Oderan said, accepting one of the sweets and sucking on it. It was a sour flavour, and he was sure it took some kind of magic to create.

            “Do you feel ready then? Wait, did I interrupt your training?” She asked, finally replacing the tin and leaning back. Oderan shook his head.

            “No, I hadn’t started yet. I’m as ready as I can be honestly. I wish the day would just hurry up and come already, the waiting kills me. But, I’ll spend today doing katas and such, then tomorrow and the day after I’ve asked Daimos to come down and spar with me. He’s not the best, but he’s trained with two swords, and it’ll help reinforce the stances.” He explained, gesturing with his claws.

            “Of course. Good thinking.” Aileen said. “I have utter faith that you’ll succeed, and frankly it will be nice to see you crush Ferei. Aren’t you excited Odie? Our family will finally matter again, in fact with a bit of work, in a few years we’ll probably be more important than mother and father ever were!” He laughed, hoping she didn’t detect how fake it was.

            “Yes. I’m really thinking more about the fight at this point, but it will be pleasant not to have to play so many games. They can come chasing us, huh?” He said, as Aileen nodded.

            “So, you’re all set on what you’ll be demanding of the Godking?” She began. “There’s no confusion or doubt? I’d hate for you to mess up our one chance.” She stepped closer, and Oderan felt his scales itch. He was truly growing to hate Aileen, his revulsion for her actions increased a little each day.

            “I’m not confused.” He said firmly.

            “I wonder.” Aileen said, looking away. “I mean; I’m starting worry about you. And you couldn’t blame me…all that talk about love a little while ago, this recent stunt you pulled in insisting like some hatchling that you get both those Tevarians? What was that about?” She clicked her tongue.

            “I just thought we needed some new staff. And I told you, Oksana treated them terribly. Odirium above Urie killed one, Aileen!” He exclaimed. His sister pushed herself free of the bench, crossing her arms and staring him down.

            “So?” She said.

            “So?!” He replied. “They may be slaves but they’re still living beings.”

            “Mhmm.” She added. “I think you might have a mite too much fondness for these furry ones. I mean, first with that weaponsmith and now this…”

            “Albion is simply the best at metallurgy in the city. That’s all there is to it.”

            “Of course brother, nobody bats an eye at a duellist visiting his sword maker.” Aileen said, throwing her claws up. Oderan narrowed his eyes.

            “If…when, I defeat Ferei, I shall request to our Immortal Godking Odirium that he grant me the position as his right hand.” He said slowly. “If he insists on keeping the current one, that useless Releau, I’ll take over leadership of the Honour Guard until Releau’s dismissal. I’d appreciate it though, sister, if you would allow me to focus on the fight itself, instead of your politicking.” Aileen didn’t come close to flinching at his stern tone, looking as if she might even yawn. “I care about this family name.” He added.

            It’s technically true. He thought, fuming.

            “You keep insisting that, you know?” Aileen said. “As if I were denying it. Curious.”

            “What do you want? What are you even insinuating?” He glowered. His sister sighed, turning away.

            “Oderan, we do what we want behind closed doors. But when the real world comes knocking you have to grow up. We have legacies to think about here, no? I trust you, don’t worry. But I know you’re fond of the Tevarians, and I don’t want to be labelled a race traitor because you got…carried away.” She explained, turning back.

            You bitch. Oderan thought.

            “I’m going to invite dear Albion up the viewing room. Lorric and I have a lovely private room on the west side of the arena, where we can see everything, it’s even shaded. I think I’ll bring those new slaves too, something to bring us food and such, so we don’t miss you fighting. That’d be tragic.” She smirked, again leaning back against the bench. Oderan fought to maintain his composure. How this woman pushed him. Everything was a half-threat, she never said anything forthright!

            Don’t you hurt him. I’ll kill you if anything happens to Albion. He promised silently.

            “Very well.” He said coolly.

            “I think our Honour Guard’s will enjoy watching the fight too. They don’t really have much use besides ceremony anymore. They’ll find it exciting.”

            “I’m sure.” Aileen walked towards him again, her face going cold as it dropped any pretence of warmth. She put a claw on his arm, points digging in.

            “My main concern, Oderan, is that you remember what you promised me. When the time comes, you ask for the right thing. And if it helps you focus, just think about how that panther and your two mutts are safely tucked away with me and the guards.” Oderan swallowed. A threat. She was threatening him.

            Do as I say, or I’ll kill the people you claim to care about.

            “Why are you like this?” He whispered, and Aileen laughed. She turned to leave, drawing a claw across the table as she went.

            “Because Odie.” She said playfully. “I actually care about this family.”

 

 

            The moon was up high when Oderan stepped outside, closing the door softly behind himself. Lorric and the slaves were all asleep, it was nearly midnight. His body throbbed slightly from practicing hard all day, and his heart ached for Albion’s embrace.

            Soon. He told himself. The Captain of his family’s Honour Guard, Jaro, stood in the centre of the small yard, waiting patiently.

            “Oderan.” He said with a quick salute, careful to omit the ‘Lord’. He wore a crisp blue uniform and clutched a tall spear, with a short sword tucked neatly at his belt. His other guards were left patrolling the house, out of earshot while he met with Oderan.

            “We need to talk about loyalty.” Oderan said softly. Jaro’s face fell slightly, but he nodded. He was a good man. A tall and well-built Akkedisian of Lowblood, he’d worked his way up this far – almost as far as one of his birth could go. His horns were curved around, his deep red scales appearing almost purple in the moonlight. When Oderan was younger, he’d even had a crush on the man, fantasising about him at night when he was alone.

            “I see. You wonder where mine lie?” Jaro asked, and Oderan nodded. “With the Sarrosum family line, now and forever, sir.” The Captain informed sternly.

            “A little more specifically than that.” Oderan whispered. “I’m sorry. I’ve known you for a long time Jaro, and I trust you. I have to ask something terrible of you.”

            “I…see. What is it sir?” Oderan sighed.

            “The High Rank duel. You’re going to hear some…crazy things that day, I’m warning you now. It could be confusing. But please, you and I have always been friends, and I’ll give you whatever amount of money you wish, if you will stay loyal to me when it happens.”

            “When what happens?” Jaro asked nervously.

            “You’ll know it when it does.” Oderan said. His heart was racing, thumping in his chest. Everything hurt. How could he face Ferei in this state? Before it had been only his life in danger, and now there were three others he was responsible for.

            Albion. My sweet Albion, what have I done? He thought.

            “You’re going to be with my Uncle and Sister during the match. There will also be three furred people there, two slaves and a panther.” Jaro nodded. “Please. Whatever Aileen and Lorric may command, you must not harm these three people. Please, Jaro you have to swear it to me on every shred of honour you have!”

            “I…my Lord…” He began awkwardly.

            “No! Afterwards, I’m going to leave the city. I want you to come with me, to stay as my Honour Guard. I’ll need you, I’m about to do something very dangerous.” He stepped forward, coming even closer. “Please.”

            “I can’t raise a weapon against your family members…I’m sorry Oderan.” He said eventually.

            “No, no…you needn’t harm them. Just, keep Albion and the other two safe. Get them out if you can. I’ll promise you anything I can give.”

            “And what of my fellow guards?” Oderan’s expression fell, and he stepped away.

            “Well, there’s a reason I’m speaking to you alone.”

            “I see.” Jaro said. “I’m not--”

            “It’s not some political move.” Oderan said quickly. “I know; I despise them too. I hate this world, this city, this society. The constant games and lies we tell, the pretence at any real emotion, everyone terrified to do anything lest it make them look weak. I just want to leave this place, I just don’t want anyone to be hurt, and I’ve put them all in such terrible danger.” He hung his head, cursing at the ground.

            “What…what is this about?” Jaro asked softly, after a moment had passed.

            “Do you love anyone, Jaro?” Oderan asked. The Captain shifted uncomfortably, before nodding.

            “My son.” He said finally. “He’s a good lad, nearly a full man now. He…doesn’t want much to do with me, but I still send him some money when I can. It’s…a father’s duty. Wasn’t his fault he was brought into this terrible world of ours.”

            “Jaro, promise me this…and tomorrow I will sign a binding seal saying your son will never fear for money again. He could give up work if he wishes. I’ll make certain he’s looked after forever, no matter what happens to me.” Oderan insisted, closing the distance again. “Imagine, please…if someone was to try and rip your son away from this world. Tried to hurt him, because of something you did or didn’t do. Wouldn’t you want to do anything you could to protect him?”

            “I…of course.” Jaro said firmly, grip on his spear tightening.

            “Then you understand love.” Oderan said softly. “It’s…something nobles don’t, I’m afraid. And that’s what this is about. It’s about love, as stupid as that sounds.” He sighed, crossing his arms and turning away. He wanted to scream, to undo everything. He should have just run.

            But they’d kill me. I matter too much. He almost laughed.

            “I’ll do it.” Jaro said from behind him. “I’m only one man, but if you swear to care for my Braze like I wish I could, then I’ll keep your people as safe as I can. I swear it Oderan, on my honour.” Oderan froze, he almost hadn’t expected that. He spun around suddenly, slamming into Jaro and pulling him into a tight hug.

            “Thank you. Thank you so much. You’re truly a good man.”

            Now. Now he could focus on defeating Ferei.