“You look like shit.” Beef’s voice was louder than it needed to be this early in the morning. In the servants’ dining hall, everything was a bit cramped and a little too loud. Still decorated with some amount of opulence to befit the palace, it was a nice enough space, but it was always full with the sound of chatter and the heat of bodies. To make the palace function took a lot of people, with more hired each year. That the space built for them two centuries ago was a bit tight was to be expected.

Finneas shook his head as he found his seat. Across from him at the small table sat Beef and Carlotta, both already nearly finished with their meals. It wasn’t too often he ate here, and he hadn’t timed it perfectly. That was alright. Those two had looser schedules. They’d likely wait for him to finish with them. “I was up late,” he said before taking a bite of his eggs. The food in this hall wasn’t bad, but it was certainly a few steps below the quality of the meals he shared with Maron.

“He really is running you ragged, isn’t he? He ought to send you off on a nice vacation one of these days,” Beef said with a laugh. When Finneas frowned at the thought, he grinned. “You’d need a vacation together to get you out of the palace, though, huh? I’m shocked you took the time away from him to come see little old us.”

Calotta smacked his arm, and Beef didn’t react. He must have been numb to that by now. “We’re glad to see you, Finny. It’s been ages.”

It really wasn’t that infrequent that he made his way to the servants’ quarters. It was just that he usually had breakfast with Maron after getting him ready, unless Maron was resting or Finneas had to train at some strange hour. Or, if he woke up to a note slipped beneath his door asking for a bit of time to himself. That was certainly new, but… Finneas understood. It wasn’t anything to do with him. Not really. It was more that there was too much happening at once. Processing yesterday’s events would take time. That was alright. Finneas wouldn’t fault him for wanting space.

“What happened in the woods yesterday exactly?” Beef asked, mouth filled with eggs.

Finneas shook his head. “Exactly what I’m sure Joel’s report said. We were going for a walk before His Highness’s meetings, and a man came out of nowhere. Altrusia showed up and then–”

“Finneas.” Carlotta’s voice was low and quiet, cutting him off suddenly.

He blinked. “Yes?”

“I have a question.”

Finneas nodded.

“Where did your cuffs go?”

Before Finneas had the chance to answer, Beef’s mouth fell open, half-chewed toast falling wetly onto his plate. “Holy shit.”

Right. He hadn’t planned to bring it up, but he supposed that it would be a rather obvious absence. Even with long sleeves, the small pieces that had rested on the backs of his hands would have been visible. Finneas rolled up his sleeve a bit, extending his arm toward them, as if showing them that there was nothing there meant anything grander than what they’d realize on their own. “His Highness had them removed.”

Carlotta reached forward, long fingers brushing over his wrist. She wore a complicated expression, her brow furrowed by a smile on her lips. “Is this, like, a slow rollout of policy? Or is it just you?”

Finneas let out a small sigh. He wished that he and Maron had discussed how to talk to other people about this more. There wasn’t a very good answer either way. If he was the only one, it was favoritism. If he claimed he wasn’t, he’d be lying. “For now, it’s just me.” It made him uneasy to say the words out loud. Why was he so worthy of this when the others in his exact position were still cuffed? Finneas swallowed, the action harsh and dry in his throat.

“I guess that makes sense,” Beef said. “You’ve always been sort of symbolic. It was a big deal when you became Maron’s attendant and were around him in public. It’d make sense if you’re the starting point.”

Carlotta frowned. “I wonder how long it’ll take for everyone else, though. The longer the wait, the more unfair it’s going to seem that you’ve got special permission.” Her voice didn’t hold malice, but it wasn’t cheerful in its tone either. “I’m happy for you. I am. But you gotta be careful, okay? All eyes are gonna be on you.” She tapped Finneas’s wrist before retracting her hand, and Finneas nodded.

She was right, of course. Whether he was a symbol or not, now that this was done, he would be watched. The public eye would be glued to him. Those who had favored the ban would be waiting in the wings for him to make the smallest of mistakes. Those still waiting for their own cuffs to be removed would be watching with bated breath. Anything he did would not only impact the fate of every other magician, but would reflect on Maron as well. Mistakes had never been permitted, but perfection was imperative now.

“Cut him a break, yeah? Look at him, you’re stressing him all out,” Beef said with a soft laugh. “Finny, can you show us what you can do?”

Finneas blinked, pulling himself from his thoughts. “Absolutely not here,” he said, shaking his head. The last thing he needed was for a room full of people who didn’t even know he’d been uncuffed to see some bright display of fire. It was going to be out eventually, but the less dramatically the word spread, the better.

“Does it… still work?” Carlotta asked. “I mean, it’s been fifteen years since you’ve used it.”

Finneas nodded. “It does.” He would be lying if he claimed the bags under his eyes were from anything other than staying up far too late into the night, holding a spark in his hand and watching it move. It wasn’t as controlled as it had once been– to move it around the room had been a struggle, and he’d given up quickly, not wanting to send an errant flame into the wall and have the announcement of his magic’s freedom made in the same breath as the news that the palace had been burned to ashes. Still, just holding that little ember in his hands and watching as it spread over his wrist, around his arm, back into his palm, it filled him with something he hadn’t known he missed.

Finneas took a breath, tapping against the skin of his wrist absently. It was strange to feel any pressure there from the touch.

“Is His Highness going to be alright if you use it around him?” Carlotta asked.

“I don’t know.” The thought had crossed his mind a thousand times already. If he had any other magic, if he was anything but what he was, Maron would be alright. With this, though, it was hard to say. Maron trusted him. Finneas knew that. If he didn’t, Finneas wouldn’t be his attendant. He certainly wouldn’t be uncuffed. But trust couldn’t eliminate fear.

Finneas’s nails dug into his wrists and he did his best to slow his thoughts. There was no reason to allow himself to spiral with this now. What was done was done. If his powers frightened Maron, he wouldn’t use them around him unless absolutely necessary. If an emergency called for it, then it would have to be alright. Scaring Maron would have to be something he could live with if it meant protecting him. His safety came first. Always.

“If it’s Finny, he won’t get upset about it,” Beef said, shrugging. “As much as we tease Finny for living under the prince’s skin, I think it goes both ways. I mean, it’s not like he does anything without him. He wouldn’t drop him for it.”

Finneas sighed. “There’s no need to speculate about His Highness.” Even with friends, it was best not to linger on the topic of Maron’s personal life for too long. Particularly with Beef. He had never been one to keep quiet long. Finneas supposed that was alright– if he knew Finneas’s cuffs had been removed, word would spread quickly without him having to be involved in it himself.

“Finneas,” a voice said from behind, catching his attention. Finneas turned, finding a large figure standing behind him. Joel’s lips were pressed into a tight line, his arms crossed across his chest. “Are you finished eating?”

Finneas cast a glance at his half-empty plate and considered the man’s tone. “Yes. Is something wrong?”

“Follow me.”

Finneas paused, and Beef reached forward, taking his plate. “I’ll take care of this for you.” The man had already begun piling the leftovers onto his own plate by the time Finneas had the wherewithal to stand. He nodded, following after Joel.

The hallway was quiet, but not isolated. A handful of servants still floated about, eyes lingering for a moment on the pair as they passed. Among royalty, it was easy for Finneas to disappear into the background. Among other staff, he stood out like a blaze in the night. If any of them noticed his arms, they didn’t make it obvious by their expressions. As they reached the exit toward the training area, Finneas regretted not grabbing a coat.

Joel held open the door, still silent. The frigid winter air hit his skin and after a second of feeling the biting wind’s fangs against his face, the sting ceased. He blinked as the whirl of snowflakes landed against his eyelashes, but he didn’t shiver. He had forgotten what the cold had once felt like. It was cool, but not uncomfortable. His lungs filled the cold of winter, but it didn’t ache the way it had before.

“His Majesty has summoned you for an audience after training,” Joel finally said, the door crashing shut behind them. He pulled his thick jacket tighter to him. With the howl of the wind and the distance between them and anyone else, no one would hear. “You already know what this is about.”

Even if the frigid air couldn't make him shiver, the words sent a chill down his spine. “Was it you or His Highness that got through to him?” Finneas asked. It wasn’t that His Majesty lacked empathy, but it was difficult to picture him weighing Maron’s opinions too heavily.

“I’m concerned that it’s something else entirely. I’m sure you know, but you need to watch your back, son.” Joel’s hand came down on his shoulder as he walked side by side with the man. “My thoughts only mean so much to him when it comes to magic. I was there that day and for the aftermath. If he cared for my opinions on the matter, things would have gone differently.” Joel was quiet for a moment, as if processing his own words as he spoke. “If he’s made the decision to let you use it, I worry he’s also made the decision to use your mistakes as a way to further his own plans.”

Finneas nodded. “If I mess up, it means he made the right choice to ban it.”

“And anything goes wrong, you’re gone.”

That thought hadn’t crossed his find. A knot formed in Finneas’s stomach instantly, and he paused. Joel stopped when he did, giving his shoulder a squeeze. How could he have been stupid enough not to consider that? Had he really been so focused on the consequences of being the symbol that he’d neglected to worry about that? How dumb was he? Finneas swallowed the bile that built in his throat. There was no future in which he could leave Maron alone.

“Hey, hey, look at me, son.”

Finneas’s gaze was fixed on the white expanse of ground beneath him.

“Finneas.”

He looked up, finding the gold of Joel’s eyes, his brows pressed together tightly enough to wrinkle his forehead.

“You’re going to be fine. I’m not going to let that happen. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Finneas shook his head. “You’re right. If I ruin this, I’m gone.”

“You’re not going to ruin anything. If you make a mistake, that’s on me. I fought for this. I promise you, anything happens, I’ll take the fall for you.” Joel’s free hand grasped Finneas’s other shoulder, holding him tightly. “So long as His Highness needs you, you’re going to be here. And my God, he does need you.”

“I’m not going to let you lose your position over me,” Finneas said, voice quiet. Even if Maron needed him, even if he needed to be by the man’s side more than he needed air, Joel had a duty to the kingdom. No one else would keep Leeden safe like he had in the past twenty years. Under his guidance, the Guard was something worthy of protecting the royal family. Without him, it would crumble.

“No one is going to fire me over one kid messing up,” Joel said. “I’m not at liberty to say everything between me and His Majesty, but I can promise you that that’s not a concern. Even over magic, he can’t sack me.” Joel paused.

Finneas felt like he might be sick.

“You’re panicking.”

Finneas nodded. He was. Absolutely.

“What have I always told you to focus on when you’re nervous?”

“Protecting His Highness.” Joel squeezed his shoulders again. Finneas’s nails dug into his wrist and his teeth bit down hard on his tongue.

“That’s right. And I’ll focus on everything else.” Joel’s arms moved to his back, and Finneas almost jumped as he was pulled closer. His eyes squeezed shut, and he took a quivering breath as the side of his face pressed into Joel’s face. “I’m gonna take care of it. You and I will figure this out. You’ve got my word.”

Author's Note

Thank you for reading!! Gilded Flame has has so much support this last week and I cannot tell you how much it means to me!! Thank you all for being so lovely! Please let me know what you think so far! And remember to check out the special print from OtterMelonArt!