Emil

  It was late into the afternoon when they finally arrived at Cereza. The provincial capital city of Gharia was built on the eastern side of the region upon a lush verdant area amongst the mountainous landscape. The region was specifically chosen for its proximity to a basin and access to rich volcanic soil. It was one of the few pieces of land in the entire province that was suitable for agriculture. Just a few hours past the city would be the outskirts of the Saar.

  The scarlet sun hanged over the horizon as Van pulled their carriage into the city. The blood-stained skies took a menacing hue and its haunting beauty was only emphasized by the reflections from the pale ivory structures poking over the city’s outer walls.

  Cereza was busy despite the imminent descent of the sun. Street merchants crowded the side of the roads, frantically shouting to nearby travelers to glance at their modest inventory sprawled out on a layer of cloth. Compared to the Commerce District of Isarelle, the bazaar here had a grimier and more chaotic energy. The merchants were aggressive and relentless. They advertised and peddled with a visceral desperation as though they were trying to squeeze every last bit of sale that they could get before the night fell.

  Emil stole a glance at Anna, wondering how she felt. Her eyes were narrowed and her lips pulsed as she stared outside the window—a telltale sign that she was displeased by what she saw. Emil knew she had an ironclad philosophy for how merchants should conduct business, but that philosophy was also forged from a place of privilege. Despite what Anna had done in the past, the Seibert Merchant Company remained a successful medium sized firm with a few branch offices scattered around Ardair. They were wealthy. And so, her ideals cannot apply to the poor street vendors here who were just trying to afford their next meal.

  As they travelled deeper into the city, Emil found himself intrigued.

  Cereza was a strange city. It was built after Gharia’s annexation to give the newly acquired province a proper capital for House Ulster to reside, making it one of the most modern cities within Ardair. Despite that, it looked nothing like a traditional Ardairan city. There were visible Ardairan classics, sure—like the use of ivory-colored marble for important buildings and the familiar grid-like composition of streets and neighborhoods. But there was also plenty of Gharian influences scattered around. For one, the buildings here were flatter and the roofs were often furnished with straw. Gharians were more communal given their background as nomads, and the flatter structure served to accommodate the social need. The use of straws was amenable due to the hot and arid climate. Marble wasn’t the only building material used. Reddish clay bricks were common given the abundance of sand in the region, creating a city that was a patchwork of red and white patterns.

  While the demographic of the city was primarily Gharian, there was enough pale-skinned Ardairans walking around that Emil didn’t feel entirely out of place. Still, it felt weird being a visible minority within the city. Like a subtle discomfort gnawing at the back of his skull, urging him to be on guard. The glances that he received from outside the carriage weren’t as hostile as he expected, so his unease felt unjustified.

  Is this how Kai feels being a Gharian in Ardair?

  If Kai felt any semblance of emotion being surrounded by people of his race, he didn’t let it show. His face remained stoic and his eyes gazed over the city with a detached indifference.

  The carriage abruptly stopped.

  Before any of them can question why, the carriage door swung open. Van greeted them with a bright smile on his face.

  “Here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going to split off into two parties. One will head to House Ulster’s estate to convene and share intel. The other will head to our inn for the night, check in, and try to get some information from the locals. Now naturally, I, as the leader, will be heading to House Ulster. I just need one other person with me as a representative,” Van declared as his eyes scanned the four of them with a mischievous glint.

  “Kai, you’re the only Gharian here, so you’re the obvious choice for speaking with the locals.” Van tossed him a set of documents, presumably with their reservation details. “Liesel, no offense, but I rather not bring the scion of House Belle with me. The last thing we need is to complicate this mission further by involving unnecessary politics between two of the most powerful noble houses in the kingdom. Lastly, Anna. Well, unfortunately, you took down Niall von Ulster, the scion of the house, during the Clash of Dawn in a rather humiliating fashion. The current head of House Ulster is quite a prideful person. For the sake of efficiency, I’d like to keep the meeting peaceful if possible. Which really leaves me with no other option, but…”

  “Me, I guess,” Emil said, nearly rolling his eyes. He was almost impressed by the asinine list of reasons that Van made up to justify his selection.

  ***

  The group separated shortly after. Kai, Anna, and Liesel departed the carriage towards their inn, which was located down the block. Van had dropped them off in a more affluent district of the city. The roads were noticeably wider and less packed compared to the bazaar-like area that they had passed through on the way. Palm trees, bearing fan-shaped leaves resembling the spikes of a porcupine, were planted sporadically at the front and end of every block. The tall trees casted a wide shadow, providing cool shade during the day. The structures here were also taller, on average four-stories high, and made almost exclusively with ivory marble. With the blood-stained skies as the backdrop, the district radiated a crimson shine as the sun slowly settled past the horizon.

  Emil joined Van in the driver seat. The clank of horse hooves echoed down the stone-paved roads. This part of the city was quiet, incomparable to the chaos that permeated the bazaar area earlier. In the distance, the mansion of House Ulster towered under the scarlet sun.

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  “So, what’s the real reason we’re heading to House Ulster?”

  Van’s face betrayed nothing as he continued to herd the horse forward. “Whatever do you mean? I was sure I explained everything clearly.”

  “Don’t act coy,” Emil accused, narrowing his eyes, “There was no substantial reason as to why it had to be me to accompany you. If anything, it would have made far more sense to have me join everyone else to find intel.”

  “Perhaps.”

  Van trailed off, silent. Emil waited patiently for him to speak. The Ulster estate grew steadily closer. They were almost near the gates where a pair of soldiers stood guard. Emil was about to say something when he caught a change in Van’s expression. It was subtle, almost unnoticeable, but the glint in his senior’s eyes had faded.

  “Emil, we’ve been working together for several years now.” Van finally broke the silence. His voice was uncharacteristically sober. “I know you well enough to say that you’ll never fully trust me. Not because of my character, as much as you like to pretend, but because I’m also a Steiger agent who’s shackled by his past. I joined this wretched organization and remain chained to it for a reason beyond myself, which means I can never be fully on your side. But because of our similarities, I expect that you will at least understand me.”

  “…What the hell are you talking about?”

  But the time for discussion was over. Van put a finger to his mouth, urging him to be silent. The coquettish glint in his eyes reappeared. They were just a few steps outside the hearing range of the House Ulster guards.

  ***

  Something is up with Van.

  Emil shot a nervous glance at his senior who was chatting merrily with one of the butlers of House Ulster. They were being led through the estate while the butler delivered an impromptu tour of the facilities and how it relates to House Ulster’s history. It was another frivolous “tradition” of the nobility who prided themselves on their materialistic possessions. As was with everything in Ardair, the tour served both as a show of status and a way to observe a guest’s reactions. Undoubtedly, the head of the house was probably watching them from somewhere on the upper floors.

  Despite knowing that he was being observed, Emil was unnerved. None of what the butler was saying stayed inside of his head for long. He was off his game. Rattled. The mask that he had been trained to wear by Steiger slipped on and off over the course of the tour. Van’s ominous words shook him to the core and he was left grasping for straws as he tried to decipher what his senior was trying to say.

  I don’t know what he’s thinking.

  Van’s shackles? His reason for joining Steiger? What the hell did anything have to do with House Ulster? His senior had never spoke much about his past and Emil never seriously prodded him given that all his attempts were deflected with something flippant. Still, while Van was frivolous, he would never say something so strange to throw him into disarray. Not when they were about to meet with the head of House Ulster—a meeting that may determine the success of their mission in Gharia.

  I really hope he’s not planning anything stupid.

  The butler escorted them down a wide hallway on the uppermost floor of the estate. The walls were lavishly decorated in gold threads and painted with the depiction of battle. Weapons forged in steel were mounted like tapestry, adorning the corridor with their polished metallic reflections of swords, spears, and shields. The hall lacked vividness and vibrancy when compared to other estates, but it possessed a weight and a visceral edge that no other can emanate. It was as though its owner cared nothing for frivolity and shameless displays of wealth—they knew perfectly well what they were capable of.

  Emil thought it suited House Ulster well. After all, the noble house’s rise to prominence was solely because of their contributions to the annexation war.

  “The head of the house is ready for you,” the butler said with a bow as he elegantly opened the door to the meeting room. Emil stepped in after Van.

  There was an immediate shift in the air once the butler closed the door. The temperature of the mansion felt like it had dropped. The hair on his skin crawled and his instincts flared with unease at the woman before them.

  She was a goliath of a woman, easily towering a head over both Emil and Van, radiating the presence of an army. Her piercing eyes were like staring down the blade of a dagger as she remained wordless at their approach.

  She was Troya von Ulster, the current head of the house and ruler of the Gharian province.

  “Greetings Lady Troya. My name is Van and this is one of my associates, Emil,” Van said, seemingly unfazed. Troya eyed him like a predator observing prey before her lips finally curled into the tiniest of grins.

  “Who would have known that the Lionhearts had such a carefree man in their ranks? And you’ve brought someone interesting with you,” Troya said.

  Emil had the urge to shrink as her gaze fell upon him. It’s been a while since I felt threatened by mere eye contact. His reaction was justified—Troya von Ulster was a war hero. She, along with her husband who was the former head of the house, had distinguished themselves in battle during the annexation of Gharia. Stories were told about the couple who served as the lone vanguards against a massive Gharian counterattack that had caught the Ardairan army unawares. Their combined might managed to stall the Gharian assault long enough for reinforcements to arrive. The failed assault would later become the final nail in the coffin for the Gharian resistance.

  For their courageous efforts, Troya and her husband were bestowed titles that granted them lordship over the new province. House Ulster had already been respected amongst the nobility before, and this feat had only propelled them to heights only held by House Belle and the royal family.

  “My name is Emil Milligan, Lady Troya,” he introduced himself and lowered his head in reverence.

  “I’m aware. How can I not know of the youngster who could rival the Ice Maiden herself in the Clash of Dawn? And humiliated His Highness Prince Rory, no less.” Troya sneered. “But why is your associate here, is the question I have on my mind.”

  “I like him to be my witness and guarantor,” Van said without missing a beat.

  What?

  Troya raised an eye in amusement. She turned to the butler and nodded. Without a word, the servant hastily departed from the room.

  “Am I to assume that this youngster has declared his affiliation to the Lionhearts?” Troya asked.

  Van shook his head. “Not all at. As I’ve stated before, this is currently not a discussion between the Lionhearts and the Ulster, but a personal affair between myself and Lady Troya. Out of all the associates under my command, Emil was simply the most non-offensive choice given his unaffiliated status.”

  Emil stared at Van, aghast. Did he make a deal with Troya behind Steiger’s back? The implications of Van’s earlier words were beginning to sink in.

  Troya looked unconvinced, but she shrugged to move on.

  “Shall we reveal what is it that we want from each other?”

  Van nodded.

  “Then I’ll start. I want your assistance in confirming the existence and location of an Azurite mine rumored to be discovered in the northern peak of the Saar.”

  When it was his turn, Van had a grave look on his face. There was a desperation clumsily hidden beneath his voice that Emil had never heard before.

  “I want to see the young House Ulster servant who goes by the name, Ruby.”