-Felix-

I stood nervously in front of Captain Westgard, my resignation in his hands, fearfully waiting for his answer as he looked at it.

"Are you sure this is what you want to do?" Westgard asked, lifting his ruby eyes from the paper he held in his extremely large hands.

I felt heat rising on my cheeks as I contemplated those hands. I dragged my gaze back to his face. "Yes, Sir," I said.

"May I ask why?"

I licked my lips, hesitated, then said, "Because... I never wanted to be a knight. What Sir Mortuary did is... it's given me the courage to do what I want with my life rather than having my life dictated by a man who doesn't even care about me. I want the freedom to explore and choose what I want to do with myself."

Westgard lifted his chin slightly. He set the paper down on his desk, his hand covering nearly all of it. "I support your reasoning, Felix," he said, "But consider this: your father is a duke. One who rules one of the four quadrants of Vandenfree. You are his only son and only heir."

"But I'm not," I said. "Felicity is alive. She's willing to take over the duchy. She might even want it, given how she acted when we were little. I don't want it. I've never been interested in that kind of thing, but she was always out, riding around to check on people in the city."

"Then Mortuary did locate her and simply refused to report it," Westgard said.

My mouth twisted in mirth I was trying to suppress. "Yeah. That's... close enough to it."

Westgard thought on that for a moment more. "I'll grant you administrative leave for a week," he said. "I understand you don't want to be a knight, but..." His crimson gaze slid to the desk on his left. Normally, the desks were shared by the knights who rotated in on administrative duties, but that one was mine. I was always there, regardless of whose turn it was to do paperwork. "I've come to rely on you, Felix," Westgard said. "You do good work. My reason for not wanting to let you go is entirely selfish. The others don't have nearly as good penmanship as you, nor are they careful and diligent in their work. When you're out, I'm often faced with nearly incomprehensible reports and incorrectly filed documents."

I felt my face heat again. My gaze lowered to the desk where his hand still covered my resignation letter. "I understand why you're hard on me in training. I just... don't want to carry around something meant to hurt people anymore."

"Take some time off. If you find something that suits you better within the week, I'll accept your resignation immediately. If not, then I'd like you to stay on and train someone to replace you."

I smiled and took a breath to thank him.

"And talk to Reid."

I felt myself flush to the roots of my hair. "H-he ran away from me last night! I didn't get to say a word!"

Westgard's brows lifted, and then he sputtered a laugh. He covered his mouth and calmed himself. "Sorry. It's been so long, I forgot what it was like to be unsure of such things."

The door suddenly slammed open. I jumped, turning to look over my shoulder just as Cecil strode up behind me to drop his arm around me. "Rick! I want to borrow him for the day!"

Westgard frowned. "Learn to knock, Cecil. And where are you taking him?"

"We're going to do some manual labor in the south district!" Cecil said cheerfully, then turned to me, "I've arranged with my friend for us to help today. One of the poor houses has fallen. I purchased materials to rebuild it a few weeks ago, but labor was an issue. The men strong enough to help are all busy working, and no one of better means is willing to step foot in there. The project keeps getting delayed, so I need to import someone with some muscles," Cecil grabbed my bicep, "If I want to have it done before next month."

Westgard narrowed his eyes slightly. "Take Fletcher and John with you as well. They won't complain too much about it."

Cecil grinned. "Oh, thank you, Rick. You're the best!" 

I looked at Cecil, expecting his words to be sarcasm, but maybe it was legitimate gratitude.

The captain took my resignation letter, folded it, and stuck it into his desk, but not in the usual drawer he filed things in. This was a temporary holding spot for the document.

Tugging my arm and shoulders, Cecil turned me around and hurried me out of the office.

"Is there... some kind of signal men like us give off?" I asked, bewildered. "All my friends are attracted to men..."

Cecil looked at me and tried very hard not to laugh. He ducked his head as we walked. Getting himself under control, he said, "No... You get a sense for it after a while. Sometimes, it’s wrong, but mine is usually right. I had you pegged a long time ago. And considering you are very close friends with some of my lovers, I thought you already knew what you liked. Ah. This is so refreshing!"

I dropped my gaze as we walked, heading toward the training yard where I knew Fletcher and John would be. "Please don't tease me too much. I'm completely sure my father will kill me if he finds out about this."

Cecil touched my shoulder, pulling me to a stop. "It isn't teasing so much as excitement for you," he said with a kind smile. "You're finally being honest with yourself, and that's wonderful. Share that with whoever you feel comfortable sharing it with. Your escapades with me will be entirely in public and sickeningly wholesome. We'll turn the whole city upside down, wondering what the hell has gotten into us. It'll be great! Besides, you're quite well known for exclusively frequenting ladies' bedrooms, so the thought of us being intimate won't cross their minds. Your secret is safe."

I took a breath and nodded. "Okay," I said. "Thank you. Let's get going then. Before it gets too hot."

Cecil snickered. "I think we'll all be just fine if it does get hot, though," he teased.