Lucian stood with Miriam in Charlton Lowenthal’s lab, peering over her shoulder as she worked. She held the Jeweled Eye underneath a looking glass of some kind—not quite a microscope, but close. She twisted it about in her fingers. Lucian admired how still she could keep her hand—she was like a surgeon.

  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that this eyeball was still attached to someone.” Miriam pulled it away from the looking glass and held it up to the sun. “It’s like this thing has veins, blood flowing through it, even optical nerves. But the material is definitely diamond. Red-hued diamond, but still diamond. I’m having difficulty making sense of this.”

  Lucian nodded. “Now that you’ve indulged your curiosity, do you think you can help me do what I asked or not?”

  “I haven’t indulged it. I’ve just made more. But, for you…” Miriam nodded. “Yeah, I can do it. The formula is pretty rudimentary. The difficult part is going to be procuring the ingredients. Even Charlton doesn’t have what you want on hand.”

  Lucian took the Jeweled Eye back. “All you need to do is memorize how to do it.” Lucian tapped the instructions he’d written down for her. “When the time comes, you’re going to have the opportunity. You just need to execute.”

  Miriam looked at him. “You’re weird, you know that? Always talking in vagaries, half-truths, nonsense. It’s like everything you say has some secret hidden behind it.”

  Lucian put the Jeweled Eye in a secured pocket. “Not quite sure how to respond to that.”

  “Can’t you just trust me?” Miriam asked. “I know you were pulling my leg when it came to that nonsense about intuition, and about the Stormhuln. You were incredibly suspicious in the cathedral, but I kept that to myself. You’re single-handedly helping me realize my ambition to deal with the Black Bloom. There’s very little you could say to turn me against you.”

  Lucian felt a little embarrassed, but mulled her words for a moment. Could he trust her? She was a good person. He’d done enough to earn a solid debt from her—not that debt was the basis for a friendship, of course, but these people didn’t know him half as well as he knew them. He needed something to bind them, for all of their safety.

  “You know, you’re right,” Lucian conceded with a few nods. “The thing is, there are some things that I just can’t say. Not mentally—physically. I can’t say the words. Something is blocking me.”

  “Hmm. Try,” Miriam encouraged.

  Lucian opened his mouth, trying to spill all—the War of Four, everything. It felt like something had a stranglehold on his lungs. He stopped quickly enough and rubbed at his throat, clearing it. He shook his head.

  “Interesting. I could tell you were trying. That, or you suddenly figured out how to act,” Miriam remarked. “Is this a curse?”

  “Something, I don’t know,” Lucian said, throwing up his hands. “All I know is that I hate it. I really, really hate it. I’m not sure it would make things less complicated, but it would certainly be a load off my mind.”

  Miriam studied him. “Perhaps I could reverse engineer what you want to say.”

  “You know, you probably could,” Lucian admitted. “But if I trust you… you’ll trust what I say, right? Even if it doesn’t make sense?”

  “To a point,” Miriam said with a nod.

  “The hell’s ‘a point’ in your mind?”

  “I don’t know. I suppose we’ll find out,” Miriam said.

  Lucian shrugged. “Fair enough. Then… let’s go catch a ride on a lumber cart.”

  ***

  Lucian and Miriam hopped off the lumber cart that Denzel had prepared for covert travel between Verne and the rural cottage.

  “So let me get this straight. You went to Heavenwatch Monastery intending to kill Metterand,” Miriam said, reattaching her prosthesis.

  Lucian nodded, then started walking to the cottage.

  Miriam followed along slowly. “You disguised yourself as a demon worshipper to contact a real demon worshipper, and used her to oust and kill Metterand.”

  Lucian pointed. “She’s in there. I told you she was well-liked, remember? I had to spare her, unfortunately, but she’s been muzzled.”

  “All of that was to get another blessing of the gods, alongside an artifact that allows you to peer back through the past,” Miriam continued, and Lucian nodded again. “And now you’re intending to use that artifact to steal the coveted desire of the First Emperor—and he’s the one leading the demons, trying to cause another Great War.”

  “I think it’d be funny to steal what he desires,” Lucian said. “Not to mention effective.”

  “I at least understand why you were being so paranoid.” She looked at him. “Frankly, I wouldn’t have told me.”

  “I trust you,” Lucian said.

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because I know you,” he said, stopping.

  “Do you?” Miriam stopped as well. “Prove it.”

  “Your dream is to dance,” Lucian said, and Miriam immediately stiffened. “A waltz, anything like that. But most of all, you want to dance like your people do. You want to dance their dance.”

  She scoffed, holding a hand to her forehead. “I’m, uhh… wow. That hit me a lot harder than I was ready for.” She went silent for a few moments, clearly shaken, before saying quietly, “I’d ask… I’d ask you keep that quiet.” She looked at him once she’d regained her composure. “I have some theories already… but perhaps we should focus on the matter at hand. Your time is of the essence.”

  “Very considerate.”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “Well, I wouldn’t be pleased if you were executed because I tried to ask you a million questions,” Miriam said as they walked up the stairs to the cottage’s door. “Though… I do have a million questions.”

  Lucian smiled as he opened up the door and entered inside. Aurelia was waiting there, reading a book while being monitored. She looked up when he entered.

  “Lucian,” Aurelia greeted amiably. She rose to her feet. “Who’s your lovely friend?”

  Lucian looked to the monastic watching over her, and asked for a minute. Aurelia walked up to Miriam as her guards left.

  “Lovely to meet you,” Aurelia said charmingly.

  “She looks like a high-grade prostitute,” Miriam said, ignoring Aurelia.

  Aurelia looked at Lucian questioningly.

  Lucian only nodded in agreement. “Aurelia is the other part of this equation. The devils have all the ingredients we need to activate the Jeweled Eye—as you might expect, they’re tightly guarded. Aurelia is such a good person, she’s decided to risk her life killing devils so we can enjoy a leisurely walk to the ritual chamber they set up for the First Emperor.”

  “You enjoy stealing other’s rituals, it seems, Lucian.” Aurelia eyed Miriam. Her tone was markedly less polite as she asked, “She’s your alchemist?”

  “She is,” Lucian confirmed. “She’s part of the plan, now. And she’s one of the lucky few that know your secret.”

  “Great,” Aurelia said unenthusiastically. “I’m Aurelia. Charmed.”

  ***

  Lucian sat in front of Rowan in the Collegium’s mess hall. After that, frankly, intensely relieving conversation with Miriam, he was wondering who else he might be able to share his secret with. He was still a little bit unsure about Rowan. He trusted Miriam partially because he was absolutely certain there wasn’t anyone she would tell. Rowan had a lot of friends—and a lot of friends he trusted. He also had his father, who he kept no secrets from.

  Gut-level, Lucian just didn’t feel comfortable sharing it with Rowan yet. Maybe once he’d saved his life a few more times.

  “Hey.” Rowan started snapping. “Are you there?”

  Realizing that Rowan had been talking the whole time, he shook his head. “Sorry, I was just… lost in thought. Could you repeat what you said?”

  “Sure. Must have a lot to think about.” Rowan nodded sympathetically, then entwined his hands and leaned in. “Anyway, I’ve been thinking about what you asked for. I think that there’s someone a lot better suited to helping you on one front, and so I called her over.”

  “Who? Someone from Riverra?” Lucian asked.

  “Rowan!” a familiar voice called out.

  Lucian looked over to see Helen enter in the room. She walked up to the table and sat down next to him.

  “Helen?” Lucian said. “You just wanted an excuse to flirt with her, no?”

  Helen went red, but Rowan nodded seriously.

  “Rowan’s just a friend,” Helen insisted unconvincingly. It seemed this ship was sailing ably… but these seas had sharks. Defeat might yet be snatched from the jaws of victory. “Anyway, the only reason that I’m involved in this is because I was already investigating it independently. That is to say…” She leaned in. “I was investigating Duke Cyril Villamar.”

  Lucian was simply confused. “Why?”

  “Well… I didn’t mean to, but I learned that you had partial arcane paralysis. I just overheard it. I swear that I wasn’t snooping on you,” Helen said quickly. “But what really piqued my interest was your holy affinity. There’s no real way that it should be possible. Cyril has such high dark affinity that, no matter who your mother is, it should be impossible for you to have such pure affinity. The only cases of affinity changing so drastically… well, they’re from experiments.”

  Or a blessing from the gods, Lucian wanted to say, but she was on a roll.

  “That was why I was asking about your father so insistently when we were exploring the Fifth Canton.” Helen stared at him intently. “As expected, it was an uncomfortable subject for you. That deepened my conviction that Duke Cyril Villamar did something to you. I found it equally odd that he was immediately prepared to send you to Heavenwatch Monastery. Unless, of course, this was his scheme all along. He ruined your body to give you an absurdly high holy affinity.”

  Helen leaned in closer. “The more I looked into your father, the more unsettled I became. The truth is, he’s connected to some monstrous incidents. In the public eye, he’s immaculate. Behind the scenes, things are incredibly suspicious. He’s always far too proximal to things that are brutal but effective, but the credit for it usually falls upon someone else—someone dead, or someone he controls utterly.”

  Rowan nodded. “After the way you described him, I figured that I owed it to Helen to let her know that she was onto something.”

  “Duke Cyril Villamar… he tortured you, didn’t he? He experimented on you,” Helen said. “All these years he’s had you be his puppet in politics, worsening your name to advance his agenda. Rowan told me he used your sister, and how he wanted her to remarry. He probably waved the title of Villamar over your head, promising you, baiting you. And now…” she wiped a tear away. “Now he’s taken even that from you. He’s taken everything from you, Lucian. Your prospects. Your reputation. And now he’s coming for your life, to silence you forever.”

  Lucian couldn’t come up with a better scenario if he’d thought about it for hours. And… well, maybe she was right. Maybe. Realistically not, but there was a very small chance. Lucian could believe it. He also wanted to believe it, but that was beside the point. Yeah. What was saying he wasn’t abused? Maybe Lucian was the victim. Maybe Helen was right. Matter of fact, she was—Lucian decided then and there. That was his backstory.

  Still… this might be a bad idea… Lucian reflected. Don’t commit fully.

  “Would you believe me… if I told you my memory was a little hazy?” Lucian said.

  “I would,” Helen said. “Duke Cyril Villamar is the largest customer for most alchemists in Riverra. People say he’s buying medicaments for his subjects, but I don’t believe it’s just that. If Duke Cyril were sloppy, he would’ve been caught decades ago.” She set her small hands on the table, clenching them into fists. “But… I refuse to allow this injustice stand incorrected. I will expose him for who he is. And your trial will be the vector for that.”

  Lucian felt a wave of relief come over him at her confidence. “That does sound wonderful, but I’m not sure they’re going to give me the opportunity to use my trial to grandstand about how awful my dad was.”

  “Rowan said you needed a good defense,” Helen said. “And I agree. What you need is a defense that will stand for you. You need a respected, vaunted, celebrated, good-hearted name that makes the vultures trying to ruin you double-take. You need someone that has no reason to defend you except for the cause of justice. You need an investigative mind that can unearth any secret, no matter how well-hidden. And you need someone that can stand up to Duke Cyril Villamar, powerful as he is, reputationally and otherwise.”

  She sounds like she’s about to introduce a prophet, Lucian thought.

  As he remembered Helen’s character, he quickly realized what was coming next.

  “You need my daddy,” Helen said with a smile. “I sent him a letter. He’s on the way right now!”

  Christ. Saint Sherlock Holmes? Lucian thought, a little nervous. If it’s her father, he might actually come to the truth—that Lucian’s just a regular old asshole, not a victimized one.

  “Daddy was once a chancellor, and he was the prime minister for the Kingdom of Vantz for some time. He’s been the chair of Vantz’s supreme court for eight years now,” Helen said. “And in terms of reputation? I don’t mean to brag, but he’s very respected. Just having him on your side will change the public perception massively.”

  “Is that a good enough defense?” Rowan asked with a smile. “We’ll expose Duke Cyril yet.”

  Lucian smiled and nodded uneasily. He told one person the truth, and he wove two others into a bigger lie. Hopefully it all evened out in the end.