3 months had passed since. Melton had visited her every week thus far, and his list of fairy tales to tell were running dangerously low.

  "Have you made any ground on the case?"

  "My last trail went cold, so I’m almost starting from scratch." A chill ran down his spine as Melton’s lie spilled through his teeth.

  "Tough luck out there. But you might need to take the whole of next week off."

  "...I'm not going back."

  Sergal let out a bemoaned sigh. "That's what I told your father, but he insisted that you return to the family house for this year."

  "Why only now? He could've forced me back anytime he wanted, but he chose now of all times?"

  "You've made good progress on the case. I'd say a little slowdown is to be expected. Take the chance to take a little break. That's what I'd always say when you ran yourself ragged as a kid."

  Trepidation mounted Melton’s words, "...Will he be there?"

  "He always returned, every year. They see him as the filial son. I dare not imagine what the estate thinks of you if you keep delaying the inevitable..."

  Knuckles rapped against the door to Sergal's office.

  ""?""

  "I hear that Melton is here."

  "...Do come in, Specialist Zeke."

  The newest addition to the group of elite combatants within the empire's borders walked through the door. Greetings were exchanged and Zeke took a seat, but the air between the trio still hung rather stiff.

  "I hear you're making good progress on your first case? I heard it's a big one, so you take your time. I have faith in your ability. How have you been doing as of late?" Zeke's hand slammed into his brother's back; the Zeke Special Greeting, for his younger brother only.

  "Fine. Why does he want to see me now?"

  "He said he has something to talk to you about. Even I'm not privy to the matters between you and Father."

  "I could've met you outside the building anyway." Despite the familiar greeting, the air still remained stale. The silence was broken only by smoke punching through the air with every breath of smoke Sergal took and the whining of servos as the only mechanical arm in the room moved.

  "Regarding that, he says that he wants you there by the weekend. Which means we have to leave today after you get off. The estate is about a day out, after all. It's also been a long time since we've gone back home together. Maybe we'll have a little chat while we're on the way."

  Shoot, I've got to let Elisabeth know-

  "It's fine, I can arrange my own transpor-"

  "Pretty please?"

  The young specialist’s gleaming smile blinded the room with teeth that shone like silver, burning the retinas off of the other two men in the room.

  "No really, I can go by myself, trust me on this, Zeke," Melton wincing as he tried to rein in his foolish brother.

  Zeke sulked, his eyes turning impossibly round as he turned to plead with his younger brother. Melton swore that blonde ponytail of his was wagging like a dog for a moment. As much as he felt nothing about his brother's puppy eyes, it would be a truly massive pain if he started kicking up a fuss in the middle of Sergal's office. His captain's eyes had already been blasted by his smile; making him deal with Zeke's deadly annoying temper tantrums would be his failure as both a brother and subordinate. To think Zeke was the older brother between the two...

  "Fine, fine! I'll go with you! Geez, how old are you to be throwing tantrums over these things?"

  Zeke's expression immediately reset to his default, smiley expression, almost as if he was never about to throw a tantrum. "Alright I'll see you outside then!" And the door shut, the calamity leaving just as quickly as he arrived.

  I don't always agree with Melton, but you two should really be talking about this outside of my office...

  Being dressed in such a tight suit and his hair waxed till half of his scalp was paraffin, Melton was partially reminded of why he detested wearing some of his old clothes.

  I wonder what kind of story I should tell her, I'm running out of fairy tales - Scratch that, where's a good place to buy a thousand needles at the marketplace there...

  The carriage had more than enough room for two, given their status. More than spacious enough for the two of them to comfortably sit across each other, so of course Zeke had to be glued to him. Melton figured he'd keep his mouth shut and let the clopping of hooves fill the silence as he tried to get some rest on the way home, but Zeke had other ideas.

  "I don't mean to pry, but how have you been? Are you eating well?"

  "...Sometimes I forget to eat my lunch but I eat two meals a day minimum. It's better than some of the guys in the office." Of course, if Zeke initiated the conversation, he'd have no choice but to respond. He’d rather shut him up than invite more of his brother's blabber mouthing.

  "3 meals a day, Melton. It's the minimum."

  "The documents don't write themselves, Zeke." Massaging his forehead with his hand, Melton wished for his past self to never agree to that deal he made in Sergal’s office.

  "...Who're you looking into?"

  "I can't tell you?"

  "Sure you can. If you can tell Sergal, why can't you tell me?" The curious look Zeke was constantly shooting him was going to drill through the side of his skull at this rate.

  "You don't work in Recon to begin with. The case doesn't concern you."

  "Pretty please?" God, no. He'd better spill the beans before Zeke imploded like a bomb on the carriage home.

  "...Fine. It's some information broker in the religious district, but the location keeps changing each time. It's hard to even get in."

  "Sounds mysterious. Betcha it's a person you're looking into."

  "Are you a psychic?"

  "Have I never told you?" Zeke’s laugh shook the cabin of the carriage, while Melton's face scrunched as it leaned into his elbow on the carriage window, his expression soured from pure exasperation. Sure, there's never a dull moment with Zeke. But there's never a moment of peace either. And he'd really like peace right about now.

  "Man or woman?"

  "Woman."

  "Is she pretty?"

  "Very. Doesn't matter, relationships with targets are a no-go."

  “That's true, but I am concerned for your love life. I met Celine at 16 and married her the moment I turned 19. You're 20 and you’ve yet to date anybody.”

  "The women always chased after you anyway."

  "Only because you never had the heart to approach them first."

  "..."

  "Gotcha where it stings, huh?" The older brother puckered his lips as he shot a pair of finger guns at Melton, much to the younger's chagrin.

  "If you were simply more brave and outward, they'd see all the good inside of you, but alas. It's quite a pity. Hopefully you find someone that can decipher that true worth of yours. You're quite a peerless gem without all the self-doubt and depreciation." Zeke let out a sigh. Everybody, even their own father, had mistaken his brother as inferior to himself, when Melton alone possessed something priceless he didn't have.

  "How about you, brother? Do you still write to Celine?"

  "I do. Sometimes." Suddenly Zeke didn’t feel like talking anymore.

  "You're gonna get grilled when you get back…"

  "I made sure to write back once a month?"

  "Didn't she tell you to write back once a week?"

  The realization struck him as bullets of sweat began to roll down Zeke’s forehead, his cheery smile wiped off his face in an instant, replaced with pursed lips filled with dread. Even Melton couldn’t help but feel sorry for the man waiting in the wings of the gallows. As much as he found his brother's shenanigans annoying, he wouldn't wish the fury of Zeke’s wife on anybody, even his worst enemies.

  "...Many prayers."

  "Much obliged, Melton."

  In the pearlescent black of Room 1, Elisabeth threw a ball the size of her palm to Patricia several meters out, the leather ball fitting snug in her hands. The ball flew back, Elisabeth letting out a yelp as she bobbled it. Melton nagged her so many times about how she never got any exercise, so hopefully this would shut him up the next time he came around.

  “Quit throwing it so hard, Patricia! My fingers hurt…”

  “I’m not throwing it hard at all? It’s almost comical how easily you jam your fingers.”

  "He'd usually be here by now…Is he late again?"

  Patricia watched as Elisabeth botched another pass, "I looked forward to meeting him again."

  "Patricia?" Slender arms stopped halfway as the ball fell to Elisabeth’s feet.

  "I'd love to spar with someone as skilled as he was. Steel to sharpen steel."

  "Didn't you lose badly that time?"

  A rare tinge of embarrassment spread through Patricia's face.

  "I'd like a few pointers as well, if he’d have any to give me," Patricia said as she cleared her throat into her closed fist.

  "He's quite chatty, Melton probably would be happy to oblige. If he declined anyway, I'd make him. He owes me anyway."

  "So do we keep waiting?"

  "It's all we can do until we close up shop, I guess..."

  "The eldest son of House Tasselt greets the head of House Tasselt."

  "The second son of House Tasselt greets the head of House Tasselt."

  Nathaniel nodded at each greeting, his verdant green eyes reflecting into Melton's own.

  "Melton, come see me at my study when you have finished unpacking."

  "Understood."

  "Zeke, Celine is waiting for you upstairs. I'd advise against keeping her waiting."

  "Understood..." Zeke headed up the stairs with a dreadful look on his face; his death was about to be gruesome.

  "It's been a while..."

  His room hadn't changed since he left for the capital about 3 years ago. From the notepad on his desk, the lack of opulence and decor compared to the other rooms in the main house and down to the clock he got as a gift from Zeke on the right nightstand. It was as if they had frozen a memory of his room in time and recreated it before he arrived today.

  Melton almost crashed into his bed, ready to rest for the night before he remembered that he was to see his father in his study. He'd made fun of Zeke earlier, but this meeting might be a worse fate than a simple scolding. Better get dressed again before he forgot to go entirely, but maybe that would serve as an excuse enough to not go…

  "How is work?"

  "...It's hard, but I've been learning as I go."

  "A drink? This one’s best enjoyed when chilled."

  The half melted ice in Nathaniel's drink rang as he swirled his glass, extending it slightly towards Melton.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  "...I don't drink."

  Nathaniel took a sip out of the glass, his eyes staring into the drink. "I hope you've been well these few years. You've yet to visit since you left, so I thought I'd have you over to check in."

  "What about brother?"

  "I am hardly ever worried about him. He barely has a sense of tact, but he has Celine and you around to keep him grounded, which I am grateful for."

  Melton rubbed his eyes. His old man opening up over a drink? This was clearly an extraordinary circumstance. He'd call it out if filial obligation hadn't shut his mouth to listen.

  "What have I ever done for him?"

  "He'd be very different if you weren't around. A sword without something to protect seeks to harm instead. With you and her around, the family's loose cannon is tied firmly to the ground."

  The son’s eyes furrowed. This was going nowhere.

  "Why tell me this only now?"

  "I've been occupied with the land. I only had a chance to lean back now, as it finally stabilises into normalcy."

  "Not the past 5 years. When I was a child, you always used Zeke as the yardstick. Did you know how it felt to always fall short? The curse of second place?"

  The spacious study was becoming claustrophobic, yet both parties refused to yield.

  "You need competition and challenge to stay on top of this hard and unforgiving world, Melton. The Tasselts shall only raise the sharpest minds and bodies they can so that they may carry the family name with pride."

  "I never won! Forget 'competition', or 'challenge'; not one day of my childhood passed without wishing people would stop putting me against him!"

  "And yet it turned you into a fine gem no lesser than Zeke, Melton."

  "Enough!"

  The son's face contorted to wear a scowl as his tongue drew its blade, ready to fight if his father would say anything else as foolish as his previous statement.

  It was all a facade. Like he'd ever change. That disgusting father of his turning a new leaf? That momentary veil he placed over his judgement? All to compare him to his brother again?

  No more. Enough. This trip "home" was a mistake.

  "Melton. Calm dow-"

  Nathaniel blinked and Melton disappeared from the room. A hint of ozone lingered in the air, traces of blue sparks fizzling in the room.

  The ice in his drink had since melted, and the drink would only get warmer.

  "Serene, if only you were still here..."

  Melton ran, as far as his extraordinary ability and body could take him. His lungs filled with broken glass, his right leg filled with slag and the left leg lead. But his legs couldn’t stop moving.

  Faster. Faster than the disgusting thoughts in his head could catch up with him.

  He'd just walked out of a family gathering. His father clearly just wanted to talk to him. Even apologized for his mistakes. Even as a child, he ran from the challenge of Zeke always having the leg up on him. Instead of having the courage to face him again, he wallowed in pity like a coward would. All he did was run away from the things that troubled him most instead of facing his greatest fears.

  Now he had made a commotion about himself. Walked out of his father's apology. It was no different than spitting on his pride. How was he meant to turn around and say "I'm sorry about that," now?

  His breath ran ragged and rough, despite being nowhere close to tired. The sheer fear of rejection stole his breath and destroyed any semblance of composure he had. Those two simple words only earned his ire when he was younger. Why would it change now?

  Every bone in his body screamed to not turn back. Only an rejected apology awaited him at home. The only way to escape those revolting thoughts was to run until even it couldn't keep up.

  Someone, please hear my plea.

  I wish to know how to make amends.

  Name your price for the methods and I would give it to you twice over.

  I must learn to gather the courage and say 'I'm sorry', straight to his face.

  Before I lose the only parent I have left in this world because of my own mistakes.

  A hoarse voice reverberated and echoed through a beaten path, so desperate and pitiful; as if it were on the verge of falling apart completely.

  "...-Please...!"

  The old lady at the concierge glanced at the clock on the wall. Time to close up shop.

  The door barged open, and an unruly figure entered the waiting room. His features suggested that he's Room 1's regular guest, but everything else suggested otherwise. Messy hair, unbuttoned shirt, sweat pouring out of his skin; he looked like he ran across the city to get here.

  Normally she'd chase anybody looking like him far away from the den.

  But among false ascetics and silver tongued proselytes, a passionate youngster is a nice change of scenery.

  "Please go ahead."

  The man simply nodded in response and knocked on the door.

  "Guess he isn't coming this week either...Is he sick of me or what?"

  The sound of a hand knocking against the door notified Elisabeth of his presence, right as she was about to leave for the night, putting a large smile on her face before the man that appeared before her wiped it all away.

  "Melton! Why didn't you say anything if you were going to disappear last- What happened to you?"

  His hair was in complete disarray from the day's trip at full effort in just under an hour. Other than his dishevelled look, he appeared fine with the exception of a few loose buttons and sweat revealing his built figure beneath his shirt. But Elisabeth couldn't even look at anything else other than his eyes, like those of a lost child amidst the rain.

  "I've got some new stories, fresh out of the woodwork, to tell you." His face contorted into a smile just for the sake of smiling.

  "Stop playing around," her voice tinged with concern. "Hurry up and take a seat. I've a feeling whatever you're trying to tell me is important."

  "Sharp today, aren't we?"

  "Shut up and catch your breath."

  Elisabeth's regular, happier expression had now been replaced by a peculiar look; like she was looking at a stray dog alone in the rain.

  "Could you be so kind as to smile for me? I missed seeing it."

  She obliged, her lips breaking into a faint yet eerie curve, but only for a moment before it faded into the same serious expression she was wearing. "I'm listening."

  "...”

  “Two ducklings lived together with their parents in a small pond by the lake. The older duckling had already learnt to swim, fish and even walk on land, while the younger duckling did everything just a little worse than his brother. But the younger duckling never lost hope. One day he'd surpass that brother of his and become a beautiful waterfowl on the pond.

  Then one day, hunters entered the forest. Slowly but surely, the woods around the pond began to fall silent. As the rain poured down one day, the family had decided to leave for the larger lake, but a parent had stayed behind to make sure that the youngest duckling learned to swim amidst the rainy and deep waters of the lake."

  Gossip swirled and spun around a group of noble ladies at a gathering.

  Have you heard? This week it was young Thaddeus from House Geralt. They only just found his body near the river bank by the estate.

  Serene, you must be careful. The rain has made the roads soft and unsafe.

  I will be fine. I'll just be going to see what little Melton has brought home from his trip outside.

  "It wouldn't take long for a duck to lay within a hunter's sights."

  ...The carriage is stuck, mom!

  Quick! Find that Tasselt woman and her bastard son! Kill her!

  I know; the wheels have sunken into the mud, which is why you mustn't look outside, no matter what happens.

  Mum?

  I'm sorry, Melton.

  "Soon, only a duck and two ducklings remained in the water of the pond."

  ...Melton?

  The shell-shocked boy can hardly move between the sticky blood and rainwater seeping into his clothes and his mother atop him.

  T-they shot the c-carriage with s-s-so many arrows...M-mum pushed me to the ground so I didn't get hit...

  ...Why? Why didn't you help?

  I-I was scared...I didn't know what to do...

  "The last duck, grief stricken in losing his partner, lashed out at his youngest child."

  Dad?

  The man, one hand on a mahogany casket, the other a white balled fist, looks towards his son. His pupils resemble the eyes of needles, the deep dark curve of sunken eyelids outlining his exhaustion. A peculiar smell surrounds his father, like the scent from some of Dad's friends at those big parties, but the child doesn't think much of it. The cracks are beginning to show, but he's still watching him.

  Yes.

  Will mum be okay?

  But all that bends must eventually break, as the dam gives way to the raging current of the river.

  Okay? She's gone! She's gone because of you! She gave her life to protect you as you grovelled on the floor of the carriage! Maybe if Zeke were here instead of you, Serene would still be alive!

  D-dad...?

  ...If only Zeke were there instead of you...

  "The young duckling had done nothing wrong, and yet the loss of the mother has torn the family asunder."

  I wish to leave the house, Father. I will not attend the military academy. I shall pursue another path.

  What path do you speak of?

  Mr. Sergal has agreed to take me under his team.

  ...That line of work doesn't suit you, Melton. I promise you will surely regret this decision.

  I will only know for certain when I go.

  "And thus the 3 ducks lived in the lake apart from each other ever since."

  Elisabeth simply listened as the young man before him, broken as broken came, poured his soul into every word.

  "You never said you were sorry."

  Worry plagued every word that spilled from Melton’s lips, "I am too afraid to face him. I fear that if he rejects my apology, I would lose both my parents to my own mistakes."

  "He never said that he would reject you as his own kin."

  "Why would a man like him want a worthless son who couldn't protect his mother nor accept a heartfelt apology?"

  "What of your brother?"

  "He never once lost faith in me. For that I am grateful. But forget that, I've destroyed any semblance of trust my father had placed in me. What am I to do now?"

  I can’t face him.

  I simply cannot.

  Every time his face appears in my mind, my body shudders in fear of words that never come.

  I know that I must turn around, look him in the eyes and apologise, but when I lack the confidence to even look him in the eyes, the path forward seems endless, with no end in sight. How am I-

  The back of Elisabeth’s hand met the side of his cheek, the sound of her fingers against his cheek echoing through the room.

  "Everyone around you thinks highly of you. Even your own brother and competitor thinks so too. I adore you so because you treat me with such kindness, same as you would anybody you meet with no regard to who I am or what I do. Even your father was willing enough to extend an apology to you where greater men would never even think of such a thing. You ignore everything else about you just to run away from the few flaws you have!"

  "Why do you think of yourself so lowly when everyone else says otherwise? It infuriates me how you run away from everything!"

  The smell of lavender filled Melton's nose as Elisabeth brought his head into her embrace. Up till then, he hadn't even noticed that the table between the chairs was never there today.

  Her voice rang out once again, like glass chimes swaying in the wind: "Everyone around your small circle of relationships believe you're an excellent person, including me. And if the people share the same sentiment about something, then it surely must be true. So why run?"

  "...Your heart's pounding."

  "S-shut up! It's not good for my heart to comfort someone that looks like you in this kind of manner..."

  "You smell nice as well."

  “...! Please cut it out, I beg…” Beet red from his 'underhanded' compliments, Elisabeth turned her head away as far as her head would allow. That look on his face would've killed someone else. Any more and she might've genuinely curled up into a ball and exploded then, she thought.

  "Even so, searching for confidence; it's an easier job said than done."

  Elisabeth seized the opportunity, forcefully shoving him out of her embrace before holding the sides of his head to face him head on, eyes filled with a determination greater than even his own.

  "Then I'll help you. Let's search for it, together. Two heads are better than one, after all. Let's make it so you never have to run away anymore."

  "...Thank you."

  Melton smiled. Not out of necessity or decorum or simply because it would be appropriate, but because of gratitude from the bottom of his heart. It took Elisabeth everything to keep her heart in her chest.

  "Incredible... With a smile like that, your future partner must be an incredibly lucky person..."

  Ah. Only now can I say it for certain.

  I truly love Elisabeth.

  Only now does the sour pang in my heart whenever I leave on Saturday and the smile that forms when I see her every week make sense. I love her. And I'm sure it's not a simple infatuation either.

  Sure, she's pretty. More so than any girl I've met. But everything she says that's good about me can be applied to her, and then some. Her job is literally helping people when they are in need.

  “If they need information, I'll give it to them. At a price, of course.”

  She's as witty as she is kind, but prone to self-destruction in a few ways. She's also adorable when she blushes.

  “Are you sure you're not getting too close?”

  “It's because you're the one holding the book! Get over here, I can't see!”

  The face she makes when she gets exasperated is cute too.

  “Gah, how are you this good at this?”

  “I've been playing since I was five. You just learnt how to castle your king.”

  “But still!”

  Every part of her is as precious as they are priceless. From her beauty, expressions, personality and everything in between; I wish to covet her all for myself. I used to think such thoughts ugly when Zeke told me about Celine, but now I see why he said it so, experiencing it firsthand.

  Which is why I must tell her. I must confess.

  It's the one thing I never want to run away from. I promised her that anyway. If I can't do something as simple as this, I never had a chance at saying sorry to Father anyways.

  "Elisabeth."

  "Yes?" She turns around to look me in the eyes. For once, I do not avoid her gaze. I can feel my face start to heat up staring into her gentle violet eyes, but I push it aside and press on.

  "Let's go out on a date."

  "Hueh?" A strained squeal of surprise escapes her lips.

  She jolts, her eyes flash purple and red fills her face from the bottom, brows knit in annoyance and pouty lips, all crafting an expression that screams “What's your deal?”.

  "In two month's time, the commercial district will be holding their annual Summer Solstice Festival. Let's go there. There's something I wish to tell you then."

  The room falls silent after my invitation. The look on her face isn't any better either. Was I too forward after all-

  "...Let's go. I want to know what you have to say then." A faint smile plays on her lips once again. As I thought, she looks much better when she smiles.

  "...Okay."

  Her smile looks different this time. My eyes say that it's no different than what she usually shows me, but my mind is convinced this smile was softer, as if it was lifted straight out of her heart.

  So it's decided. I will no longer run away anymore.

  So that I can tell her "I love you" without looking away for a second.