“This isn’t official business,” Corvus Nott tells Jet as he leads him through the halls of the palace. “Normally I’d have a member of the guard come with me, but they’re working double shifts until the queen selection begins. The palace is an interesting place, at the moment.”
“Where are we going?” Jet asks.
“Just outside of town. We have a VIP flying in from Bergula, and we’re going to pick her up from the airport. She’s applying, as you can imagine.”
Jet’s brow rises. “Hasn’t the application period closed?”
“Aye,” Corvus agrees. “But, it’s not my business why they’re letting her in; Queen Primrose asked that I see her to the palace safely, and so I shall.” He chuckles. “I’m something of a glorified chauffeur today, Cho.”
Jet can feel pride he didn’t know existed swell in his chest, and he’s humbled by how Corvus accepts his duty without complaint, without question. “Not official business, you say?”
Corvus winks. “It’s on the down-low, as you kids say. VIP’s parents requested her arrival not make a splash.”
“Are you expecting any trouble?” They exit through a small side door, and Jet recognizes the palace gate, gleaming green in the sun, down the smooth, stone walkway. A humming black car waits for them just off the curb.
“No one knows she’s coming, and she’s not high profile enough to warrant trouble—not the dangerous kind, at least.”
“If I can ask, sir,” Jet says, and Corvus pauses with his fingers reaching for the passenger-side handle, “I just move boxes. Why did you ask me to come with you?”
“You do look strong,” he notes, eyes roaming again. They snap back to Jet’s face, and Corvus smiles. “But to keep a long answer short, it’s Imperial Guard policy. We never work alone. I’ll have you back to Chef’s side in no time, Cho, and don’t worry! I’ll make sure you’re properly compensated for your work today.”
The car windows are tinted. Jet ends up in the back, and Corvus sits next to him as the driver pulls up to the gate. They’re off down the hill, passing a tram full of tourists on their way.
“The airport isn’t too far,” Corvus says. “We should be there in no time. So what brings you to the Crown City, Cho?”
“Needed a job. Found the opening for the kitchens, packed my bags, and moved west.”
“Ah, you’re driven by money.” Corvus chuckles. “I like that. We need honest men like you, Cho. How old are you?”
They pass through North Cresthill, and the neon signs, flashing lights, and blue hologirls are back. Jet tries to keep his eyes inside the car. “I’m twenty-five, sir.”
“It’s fantastic to see someone your age working hard for an honest living. Anyway, let me give you some tips on how to act once we pick up our VIP.”
They chat about everything and nothing on their way out of the city, and Jet feels like it’s been only minutes. Corvus is charming, easy-going, and Jet wished they could talk longer. The car finally pulls to a stop in the pick up zone.
“When our VIP gets here, I’ll sit up front so she can be back here. You don’t need to speak to her, but make sure her seat belt is on. Doors locked, windows up, those are the only rules. Sound good?”
“Sounds good,” Jet echoes, and together, they exit the vehicle.
The VIP turns out to be the daughter of a big production company CEO. Half of Jet’s hometown is in his employ. Bergula is both a region of Gaelenheim and a city, farther east than even Velodale. Bergula borders the nation of Leiden Bra, and is exclusive for big-name, important people with gales fattening their checkbooks.
The girl they’ve been sent to pick up certainly looks rich.
She’s a small thing, with a head of short red hair and big, round eyes. She holds a single suitcase, and her high-end, rose petal pink dress sways in the humid breeze. Corvus steps forward. “Good afternoon, Miss Perrish. I trust your flight was comfortable?”
Miss Perrish flashes Corvus a smile. “It was, thank you! Will we head straight to the palace?”
Jet opens the door for her, and then makes eye contact with Corvus as he gets into the front seat beside the driver. They share a smile, and Jet climbs into the empty space in the back.
Marnie Perrish is loud.
She talks at length about the flight, the humidity, the way her dress sticks to her skin, how excited she is to see the palace, everything and anything. Jet ignores her, as she speaks to Corvus most of the time, but about halfway back, she exclaims, “It’s so nice out there!” and reaches to roll down the window.
Jet snatches her hand.
“Please keep the windows up, Miss Perrish,” he says, making his voice as gentle as he can.
Marnie tilts her head. “Huh? Why? I want it open!”
He can feel Corvus’s eyes on them from the rearview mirror, and licks his lips. “It’s for your safety. The glass is tinted so outsiders can’t see who is inside the car.”
Marnie laughs, and it’s carefree, light. “Oh, don’t worry about that! Me coming here was a wee bit of a surprise, and it’s not like I’m famous or anything.” She slips her hand from Jet’s grasp and presses on the button before he can stop her. “I just want to feel some air.” The car chugs to a stop at a red light.
“Miss Perrish—” Jet begins, but something flashes on the busy sidewalk, and before Jet can even breathe, even blink, he’s undone their seat belts, seized Marnie’s shoulders, and twisted their bodies. Marnie’s back hits the leather of the seat hard, winding her, and Jet is sure to press his chest against her as a heavy object flies through the opening and strikes the other window, cracking the glass from the inside. Marnie shrieks.
Corvus is out of the car in an instant, the perpetrator’s stomach flush against the sidewalk before Jet has a chance to even see him move.
“Whoa, dude, it was an accident!” the man on the sidewalk cries, but Corvus doesn’t release his arms from behind his back. “You’ve got one hell of a grip!”
Jet peeks at the scene. The light has turned green, but no one can get around their car now. A small crowd of pedestrians gathers around the commotion. He wants to get out and help Corvus, but Marnie shivers in his arms, and he pats her back instead. “You’re safe.” As an afterthought, he adds, “Keep your head below the window.”
Jet glances at the cracked glass. A small dusting of shards covers the seat, and the offending weapon shines in the light. It’s some kind of replica crown, cheaply made, stinking of copper with an inexpensive gold paint peeling from it. Merchandise from the coronation, he realizes, and he sees the small etching at the base that reads, “King Viridian Gaelen X”. The crown fits in the palm of his hand.
Jet reads the name again, scowls.
The Big Bratty Prince just causes trouble everywhere.
“There was a bird on the other side of your car, serious, it ran off with my lunch! I thought if I could hit it, it might drop my sandwich.”
“What kind of an idiot are you?” Corvus asks, and shakes his head. “I still need to bring you in for questioning.”
The man groans. “Come on, dude, I didn’t mean to throw it through your car, promise...”
Jet pats Marnie’s back, has to stop himself from rolling his eyes, and at the same moment, the girl begins to babble, still shaking, that he saved her life.
--- --- ---
“Cho.”
Jet looks up to see a tired Corvus smiling down at him. He jumps to his feet. “Sir.”
“Miss Perrish has calmed down. She’s getting adjusted in the dorm for now, but she’s a chatty one.” He chuckles.
“And the assailant?” Jet asks.
Corvus shakes his head. “Just an idiot throwing things at birds. He’s been fined and given a warning for reckless endangerment, but that’s it for him.”
Jet lets out a breath, feels the burning in his lungs stop, and he snorts a quiet laugh. “Guess he never got his lunch back.”
Corvus opens his mouth to respond, but pauses. “Cho.”
“Yes, sir?”
“I want you to know, I’m impressed by how you handled things today.” Corvus holds his gaze. “Beyond impressed, to be honest. You have faster reflexes than half the men in my garrison. You kept a cool head, and stayed with our VIP the whole time. Never tell her I said this,” he begins, voice low, “but if that crown had hit her head, she may have hemorrhaged.”
Jet is at a loss, doesn’t know what to do, because Corvus Nott, his hero, has just complimented him. What does he even say? “Thank you, sir,” he murmurs, but he can’t feel his toes.
Corvus hesitates again. “Cho, you waste your talents lifting boxes in the kitchens. I thought so when I first saw you, and after today, there’s not a doubt in my mind. I want you to join the Imperial Guard.”
“I,” Jet stammers, “I don’t know what to say.”
Corvus smiles. “Well, say yes, Cho. It’s not an easy job, and you will be in service to the crown, but if my instincts are as sharp as they used to be, I have a feeling you’ll thrive.”
If Jet is a guard here at the palace, he’ll be closer to Evie. He can help her, see her, talk to her. The pay will be better, the work much more his speed, and above all else, Corvus Nott will be his boss. Jet lets out a shocked sigh, grins, and they shake hands. “I’d be honored, sir.”
“Excellent,” Corvus chirps, and winks. “It’s Captain now, Cho.”
“Yes, Captain.” Jet wants to laugh, but he settles for the euphoric feeling that runs through him, giving him even more hope. Saving Nikhil is within reach, he can feel it. “I’m happy to join.”
“And not a moment too soon!” Corvus agrees. “Your timing is impeccable—after the basic training, I have the perfect place for you.”
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