-Felix-

Shifting nervously as I stood outside the barracks, I wasn't sure what I was going to do. I'd come because I'd been told to. Father had said to bring Mortuary back to the house if I had to drag the man by his hair. 

Knowing damn well that wasn't going to happen, I stood awkwardly in the yard until I caught Mortuary's oddly hued black hair heading toward the barracks door. Hurrying over, I caught up with the slightly shorter man and cleared my throat. "Vice-Captain Mortuary."

Mortuary turned. He was wearing civilian clothes. Rags, practically. I had to remind myself that Mortuary was a common man. The worst part was the disgusted look Mortuary gave me. "Lieutenant Lyon," he saluted in return.

That tone kind of hurt. I knew the man didn't respect me, but why did Mortuary have to remind me of my low rank?

Biting my lip, I pressed on, "General Lyon wishes to speak with you." It wasn't fair. I hadn't ever been good with swords, and within the very stable ranks of the Black Guard, moving up wasn't nearly as easy as on the battlefield. Not unless you did something extremely noticeable the way Knight-Captain Westgard had. 

Whatever was on Mortuary's mind made him scowl more. I put up an indifferent front to protect myself.

"It's a bit late. Is it urgent?" Mortuary shifted his weight, planting his feet, hands by his sides. Anyone looking at this scene would have guessed a fight was about to break out. I did not want that. I knew how Mortuary had gotten that name. I knew damn well Mortuary would win the fight.

"Not urgent," I said, trying to de-escalate. Mortuary’s expression wasn't getting any better, though. "I think he wanted to talk to you about the award ceremony." 

That statement didn't make Mortuary any less hostile. He reached back. My heart jumped to my throat as I thought he was about to pull a knife. He held up the morning newspaper. "Oh. This?"

I swallowed "Probably, Sir."

Mortuary waited a beat, then said, "I assume he sent a carriage. Let's go then."

Knowing that Father had invited Viscount Langston Middleton and his daughter to the house this evening, I again looked at the dusty rags Mortuary wore. "You should wash and change first..." Hopefully, that wouldn't anger him. What was it with short men and having bad tempers?

Instead, Mortuary grinned. It wasn't a pleasant expression. "All the more reason to go like this." He looked me over and stepped back. "Fine. Give me ten minutes."

Once the man's back was turned, I wilted, letting my pent breath out in a rush.

"Felix?" Fletcher said as he approached, looking at the barracks door. "I thought he was going to punch you for a second there." Fletcher was one of my four closest friends. However, he, Kyle, Ben, and Westly had been deployed, and I hadn't. I'd sent letters daily but often not received replies for weeks. Then, only three of them had come back, and it had just increased my loneliness. They'd changed so much, but I was exactly the same.

I pushed my hand through my suddenly sweaty hair. "I wouldn't survive if he wanted to hit me..." I shook my head. "He broke Prince Daniel's face on a wall because His Highness pissed him off."

"What?" Fletcher gasped. "No way! I heard rumors, but I didn't realize it was Mortuary!"

I nodded. "Heard it straight from Prince Daniel. They were talking to Knight-Captain Westgard." 

"They?" Fletcher asked, grinning.

"Emeritus Lambs, Prince Daniel, and Sir Westgard," I supplied, frowning slightly.

Fletcher whistled. "Wow, that's a lineup. What'd they come into Westgard's office for?"

"Talking about that report on Marquess Flowers," I said, pulling the collar of my black uniform top now. "Emeritus Lambs thought that there was some grudge involved in the investigation."

"Why, though?" Fletcher folded his arms in thought. "Sir Mortuary is a commoner."

"Well, a lot of the crap Mortuary dug up was misdeeds against the common folk, too. But... Fletcher, Sir Mortuary doesn't do... sloppy work, does he?" I looked at my friend. Fletcher wasn't one of the White Lyons, but he was close enough to get information or hear rumors.

"No. Never. He's always done everything asked of him to an excessive extent." Fletcher shifted back on his heels.

"Then why didn't he answer the question Father asked him?" I asked, mostly to myself. "He was told to find Felicity. He didn't even try."

Fletcher's eyes widened. He leaned forward. "You're kidding? The Mortuary didn't do the task he was assigned?"

The door to the barracks opened again, and I hurriedly swatted Fletcher's arm to shush him. Mortuary, now dressed in his uniform with damp hair swept back from his burnt face, strode over. Those cold, calculating eyes assessed Fletcher, making him step back hurriedly and salute. Mortuary didn't even respond; he just continued past, and I realized he was heading toward the carriage I had left nearby.

At the carriage door, I realized I'd never had a real conversation with Mortuary before, and the thought of being in a confined space with him was mildly terrifying. I sat on the bench opposite and swallowed my nervousness. "Why did you resign?" I asked, hoping to make small talk, but realized after it was out of my mouth that this was not small talk material.

"The war is over," Mortuary stared through me.

Fidgeting nervously, I realized I was in the depths of it, and the only way out was through. "Or did you have a disagreement with the General?"

"What would make you think that?" Mortuary's eyes narrowed.

"He was pissed last night, and it looked like you’d been…” I shifted in my seat.

“I’m allergic to the cat. Whatever mood the general was in when I left is his problem.”

Still, Mortuary hadn't relaxed from the slightly hostile posture. I tried leaning back. "Yeah. The cat," I swallowed. Father had made Mortuary cry? What kind of world was this? “Your report was lacking, though. You didn’t put any effort into finding my sister.”

“The investigation was enough of a waste of time.”

The dismissal hit a nerve. I punched the seat beside me. “My aunt committed treason! Investigating that isn’t a waste of time.” That alone was enough to warrant the investigation, but Mortuary hadn't even tried to do the task he was asked to do...

The shrug he gave me was even more hurtful.

“What if she sold my sister to them?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

“So what? You want to start another war to get her back? I’m sure it didn’t register with you at all, but the people of this country are suffering from the extended war, especially in the places where we fought. Thousands are dead and homeless. Do you really think starting another war over the loss of one daughter, regardless of whether she’s the daughter of a duke, is worth the lives of thousands more?”

I kept my head bowed, trying not to cry. Felicity, my shield... could she really be dead? Had Mortuary found evidence of her death and just not bothered to report it? But the amount of work put into the rest of the report... Surely, he could've spent the time to write one more line that stated that she was dead.

"What even is she to you? You haven't seen her in years."

And that... hurt more. I had tried to visit her. It wasn't my fault Aunt Karen had already lost her before I even got to the city. "She's still my sister. I guess you wouldn't know, being an orphan." It was a petty shot, but I was mad.

Mortuary only smiled coldly and folded his arms. “I’ve seen more than enough families to know that blood or water is not worth anything. The only person you can rely on is yourself. The world thrives on betrayal, death, and abuse.”

I supposed that outlook made sense. How could Mortuary miss something he never had? But then... surely he'd seen others receive love and envied the way I did.

To my surprise, Mortuary was agitated by my silence. "Look at how your father treats you. Doesn't even notice what you do with your time." He sat back, looking away. The carriage went over a bump, bouncing him in his seat slightly. “You fool around and get ignored. I was a stellar subordinate and got ignored. The man doesn’t care. Give up.”

Understanding dawned. I gripped the seat on either side of my knees in breathless wonder. "I knew it," I whispered. Still, why hadn't he hadn't bothered looking for Felicity? Had Felicity asked him not to? My gaze roved Mortuary's ruined face. Those dark red scars were distracting.

"He's all yours now. If you can get him to let me go." Mortuary flicked a side glance at me.

Sitting back, I touched my chin thoughtfully. Looking at the left side of his face, it was easier to ignore the scars. He was almost pretty... Except for his posture. Mortuary sat with his knees apart. His muscular arms had built a broadness to his shoulders that no woman would ever want. I licked my lips and took a gamble. “He intends to introduce you to Lady Caroline and make you escort her to the ball.”

"I figured as much." Mortuary's derisive snort was kind of funny. Was it possible that I could be friends with the man? We'd had a similar experience with Duke Lyon, after all. Maybe all the hostility was because Mortuary was envious that I was, seemingly, getting more of the man's attention. “She’s a bit above my station, though. Isn’t she offended?”

Deciding that I would at least try to befriend Mortuary, I said, "A bit. But Father is insisting on it."

“Did you have someone picked to escort?”

“No,” I said.

“Then you take her. I’ve got my own date figured out already.”

I nodded.

“What title am I being given?”

“Baron,” I said.

“Ha! And he thinks Lady Caroline would consent to being seen in public with me? Dress me up as much as you want. I’m still a commoner.”

I looked away. “For what it’s worth, I do think you deserve more than a medal for what you did.”

“Then give me cash.” Mortuary's tone was dismissive. His eyes looked sad. “What use is a title to me? I can’t afford any of the things that go with it.”

Arriving at the house, the carriage stopped. Mortuary got out first but waited for me. A subtle thawing of the ice between us. I smiled.

Keeping a wife in the capital was expensive. No noblewoman would consent to marry Mortuary without his at least having a nice house for her to live in. At the moment, Mortuary was not a catch. His manner was off-putting, and those distracting scars hid how handsome he actually was. Lady Caroline would do what she was told but wouldn't like it. 

Mortuary was determined not to go along with Father's schemes, though. Seeing that, I felt emboldened to take the man's side. I resolved to figure out how to be of help.