The steady rumble of the carriage moving across the dirt road prevents me from falling asleep. This ride is long, and I'd much rather be napping than staring out at endless fields and forests. The occasional village or farm breaks up the scenery. It's far too boring, so much so I find my mind wandering back to what I'm leaving behind.

  Eliza lets out a loud sigh. I glance at her, seeing her sitting across from me all prim and proper. She's clearly been enjoying the lavish castle life. When she doesn't say anything I turn back to face the window.

  Another sigh, louder this time, and I whip my head around to glare at Eliza.

  "What is it, Sister? Does your butt hurt from the motion of the carriage?"

  Scoffing in annoyance, Eliza turns her nose up at me.

  "That's a rude thing to say! No, Brother, I'm simply dying to know why you were lowering yourself to taking care of that filthy village."

  "I told you, it finally felt like I was making a difference in people's lives."

  Eliza narrows her eyes at me. She's looking at me like she doesn't believe me, and I stare right back. After a few moments she starts to smile. That smile is familiar--the kind she makes when she thinks she's figured something out.

  "Oh, I see now..."

  "What? I told you why I stayed and ruled Daywark, Sister."

  "That's how you feel now. I know why you stayed initially. It does make sense."

  Leaning forward, her elbows on her knees, my baby sister Eliza gives me a conspiratorial look. I don't have the foggiest idea what she's thinking.

  "That woman, Miss Hawthorne, you like her!"

  The color drains from my face as an image comes unbidden to my mind. Miss Hawthorne and I, seated across from one another with a candlelit dinner. She's giving me a look of affection while I'm sitting there like a rabbit who's been cornered by a fox.

  "God, no! That woman is a snake!"

  "Really? Then it must have been another woman... Maybe that maid?"

  Oh no, not that maid. The one who witnessed that horrible disaster with the bath. I still have tremors whenever I have to bathe.

  "I know you were one to proposition maids at the castle... did you and her-"

  "No! We did not, okay?"

  "Then why-"

  "I ruled Daywark because there was no one else qualified within the city, nor near it! If I hadn't stepped up, the city would have quickly fallen apart."

  Eliza looks at me with raised brows. I continue before she can interrupt.

  "It would start with the guards and city officials being unpaid. Then crime would grow. You get what I'm saying, Sister?"

  Silence stretches between us. The soft clatter of the carriage wheels rotating is the only sound which breaks the quiet. I didn't want to admit I stayed in Daywark for such a lame reason, but Eliza was going to assume I was up to no good if I let her continue theorizing.

  Sighing, I lean back in my seat. Eliza speaks quietly.

  "That's admirable, Brother."

  My eyelids part to look at my sister once more. Brows furrowed, I have to question her on how she can possibly call staying because I have to admirable.

  "What are you saying, Sister? I didn't do anything by choice."

  "But that's the thing, Brother, you did have a choice."

  Eliza starts to smile at me in a way I haven't seen her in a long time. I had grown so used to seeing her scowl and frown at me in disapproval I forgot what her genuine smile was like. The kind of smile a younger sister gives her brother she looks up to.

  "You could have left that village to its fate, but you stayed and helped them. That is a very admirable thing to do, I think."

  I can't resist grinning right back at Eliza. It feels good to be respected.

  "Thank you, Sister."

  Our conversation comes to a natural close. We sit, quietly enjoying each other's presence as two siblings might do when on good terms. Some time passes this way, but like all good things our quiet companionship must come to a close.

  "...I heard a rumor you got a castle maid pregnant, Brother."

  My face twitches at the sudden change of subject. I slowly turn to gaze out the window, watching the trees pass us by. Eliza isn't looking at me either. She coughs, as if to try and make the topic less awkward.

  "Do you happen to know if there is any truth to that, Brother?"

  "I cannot confirm nor deny such a thing."

  Eliza chokes as she exclaims in response. She coughs into a kerchief as I quickly attempt to remedy the narrative I've just depicted.

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  "Even if such a thing came to pass, she would simply be given paid leave and a monetary reimbursement for the incident!"

  Bright laughter escapes my sister's lips as she grows red in the face. While her face is flushed form amusement, my own is turning scarlet with shame. How could she have heard of such a thing? I was hoping to change my image to my younger sister of all people!

  Eliza's laughter carries on for several long moments before she finally manages to calm herself down enough to speak.

  "I-I was joking, Brother, no maids are pregnant!"

  My jaw goes slack as she giggles at me like she's just pulled a simple prank. This shit stirring brat just gave me the scare of my life! How could she?!

  "You know, Sister, maybe those birds you've brought back from the dungeon are dangerous."

  "What?" Eliza asks, still chuckling.

  "I'm sure Father would have them taken away if it turned out they were... a threat."

  Understanding dawns on Eliza's face and she quickly scowls at me. Two can play at her game, and if she can spout nonsense, so can I.

  "You wouldn't..."

  "Oh, I would, Sister."

  I'm not actually going to do anything. I simply wanted to make her sweat in return for her 'joke.'

  ~

  The world looks rather pitiful from above. High atop the central mountains, ever higher at the peak of the enclave, everything else looks tiny by comparison. One has to think this is as close a man can get to seeing what God sees. The wind is howling this high up, whistling past the battlements. The deafening roar of the bells brings me out of my reverie.

  I turn away from the wider world, and enter the tower. The wind fades as I descend the spiraling steps. My quiet footsteps echo throughout the stone structure, distant sounds of the choirs singing reaching my ears. Wonderful music that helps a man stay grounded in his faith.

  Finally, I reach the corridors of the enclave proper.

  My journey back to my office is peppered with passing greetings from the many who live their lives here in the enclave. Murmured prayers and blessings spoken quietly so as to not offend these sacred halls. Upon reaching my office I find a familiar man waiting outside the door.

  "Bishop Saxon, what brings you to my door?"

  "Your Holiness! Forgive me for intruding, but I have news I simply must share with you."

  My brow quirks at this. Saxon is not normally so audacious as to demand he speak privately with me, so what is the cause of such a change in demeanor?

  "Very well. Let us enter."

  I unlock the door to my office and guide Saxon inside. The heavy scent of incense blends with the aroma of parchment. I take a seat at my desk, an expensive construction made from fine ivory and cut marble. The plush cushion of my chair is a relief for my aching back--Saxon takes a seat at the much more modest chair across from my desk.

  Several long moments of silence pass between us as I let Saxon stew. No need to busy myself with eagerly listening to this man, lest he get ideas of becoming the next pope.

  "Y-Your Holiness, may I begin?"

  "I suppose you may, Saxon."

  Relief eases Saxon's features as I give him permission to speak.

  "There is word of something strange occurring in the quaint town of Daywark."

  My expression doesn't change. I've not a clue where Daywark is, nor have I heard its name prior. I let out an incredulous sigh as I consider what Saxon could possibly be about to tell me. Perhaps some rumors of a monster in the forest, or a witch practicing evil rituals. Such things are folklore and misunderstood situations.

  "Saxon, if you really think it is worth pursuing you can simply send a few junior priests to check the city for anything heretical. There is no reason to bother me with-"

  "Your Holiness, Prince Theobald and Princess Eliza visited the town in search of these same rumors. They were reportedly transporting items back to the capital. Prince Theobald was in the town for multiple weeks prior to-"

  The thump of my fist hitting the marble surface of my desk interrupts Saxon. My brows are pressed together as I glare at him. He flinches upon seeing my expression.

  "Why am I only hearing of something so noteworthy now?"

  "W-Well, we were not sure if the information was-"

  "Weeks! For multiple weeks, a prince was away from the capital for ambiguous reasons, and you didn't think it was worth looking into?!"

  Saxon is now shrunk back into his chair with wide fearful eyes. I'm breathing heavily, my throat a tad hoarse from shouting at the idiot. I can feel my face burning with rage. I have no doubt I'm not the picture of piety, wrath is a sin after all. I take a deep breath.

  "Why was there such a delay with this information, Bishop Saxon?"

  Relieved to see me cooling my anger, Saxon replies.

  "There is no church in Daywark, Your Holiness. The city is so small we never bothered."

  "I see. What exactly is happening in Daywark, Saxon?"

  Saxon starts to spin a yarn about Daywark. It starts simple, word from soldiers making it to the general populace about a strange cave outside of the city. The story progresses rapidly. Strange items such as glowing rocks and foreign coins come from the cave. Then things come to a head--the lord of Daywark dies in a terrible accident involving strange animals--and knowledge of this cave becomes publicly accepted.

  Apparently there is a strange door just outside Daywark, and they're calling it a dungeon. The more I hear of it the more unsettled I feel.

  "That is all we know as of right now, Your Holiness."

  I quietly ponder my next move for several quiet seconds. This isn't a decision a man can make alone, no, this is something I must confide in a higher power for. If any of this information happens to be true then there may be something truly wicked poking its nose where it doesn't belong.

  There is no equal to God, and there is no humanity outside of humans.

  "Leave me. I must confer with him."

  "Y-Yes, Your Holiness!"

  Bishop Saxon leaves in a hurry. I watch him go, my eyes never leaving his back as he shuts the door. Rising, I move to lock it so as to ensure privacy. No one can enter my office during such a holy occasion.

  I turn and move to the back wall, where a book case rests.

  My hand gently pulls a particular false tome.

  The quiet grinding of stone and wood creaking is accompanied by a hidden door opening from beside the book shelf. I glance over my shoulder before entering, lighting a candle to guide my descent into the core of the enclave.

  The air down here is stale and musty. The smell of death lingers in the air, but all I feel is faith in God. My steps echo softly down the cavernous stone space. The chamber's vast expanse is hidden in darkness, my candle's flame barely making a dent in the shadows.

  After what feels like an hour, I place my feet on the floor of the chamber.

  I can hear God's Voice faintly from somewhere beyond the light of my candle.

  "Dear Holy Father, please give this lowly one guidance in a time most trying."

  My words are whispered. The faint scraping of something sliding along the stone fills the space, and I feel my heartbeat quicken. God's Voice is approaching. I can feel his gaze on me now. I swallow my own saliva and speak.

  "Holy Father, I beseech you, is there truly a wicked being defying your authority in our realm?"

  Silence stretches on for several minutes. I don't dare to move a muscle as the shadows twitch and spasm at the edges of the candlelight.

  Then I hear his voice. It sounds like papers being rustled in the wind, and I strain to hear it.

  "I... Hear... Her."