It was not that Simon liked to be alone with Isador. Being alone with any man had long since become uncomfortable. But the carriage ride was a relief. No swarm of villagers asked questions to which he had no answers. No strange visions surrounded them. No royalty demanded a report. In the carriage, with its gilded ornamentation and plush velvet seats, he could be comfortable.

There would only be a short while of that peace. They were near the palace, only a handful of miles out now. In the late evening, the sun shone warmly through the window, casting itself upon Isador’s face. His lips were slightly parted, his eyes entirely closed. His chest rose and fell slowly. When they had exited the chamber in the light, he had acted as if there was nothing wrong. He had walked out and spoken with the people, ensuring that no one else would go inside. He had been a perfect prince.

He had fallen asleep quickly upon entering the carriage. It must have been exhausting, seeing the specter of his father.

Some sick part of Simon was jealous. What he would give to see his father again, no matter how it had to come about. It was not as though Isador seemed ungrateful for the chance— on the contrary, he appeared to understand exactly the privilege involved in seeing him. But Isador had never known his father. Simon had.

He had been everything.

Grigori Khan was not a perfect man. Promiscuous in his youth, to his own admission, he had had Simon with a woman he barely knew. But he had also been a good man. He had raised Simon alone, never asking his mother to involve herself with a child she wasn’t ready for. And when Simon, just a child, went to him asking why everyone else had a mother, he had not made it difficult. He had not allowed Simon to carry guilt or shame.

He had been active in place life. That was, after all, how he had found Chalice and Gris. When those two left the palace, he had assisted. Though Chalice never explicitly said what she owed to his father, she had told Simon many times of some unnamed debt. He had concluded early on that there was no possible scenario in which a soldier and a court entertainer could have left that life and afforded the charming house in the middle of town in which they resided.

Grigori Khan lived simply. He charmed those around him, he kept people in his good graces. Whatever animosity had brewed between the royal family and Chalice, he had remained close to both without consequence. He had worked well, kept the archives in perfect shape, and still managed to be with Simon every single time he needed him.

Almost every time.

Simon couldn’t blame him for falling ill.

He couldn’t blame him for dying.

And he couldn’t blame Isador for being given a chance he would kill for.

”Simon?” Isador’s voice was full of sleep. When he rubbed his eyes, the liner smeared onto his knuckle. “What time is it? Are we close?”

Simon nodded. “Only about an hour more, I think.”

”I didn’t mean to fall asleep for so long. I’m sorry to keep you waiting alone.” He stretched, long limbs meeting every boundary of their surroundings. His hand pressed against the low ceiling, the toe of his boot pressing against the base of Simon’s seat.

”I don’t mind. You’ve had a difficult day. The rest was good for you.”

Isador nodded, but did not look entirely convinced. “I do not know what to say to my family. I should tell them, but…”

Ah. “It is alright for some things to be for yourself. If you do not want to discuss that, I will not mention it.” There were other ways to tell them that they had encountered a spirit. Even if they needed to make the truth somewhat hazy. He took a breath. “I will say that I saw a relative who passed when I was young.”

Isador’s mouth fell open. “You do not have to lie for me.”

As soon as this was over, Simon would be gone. Any stretching of the truth could be either forgotten or forgiven after he disappeared. “It is nothing.” He opened his mouth, but hesitated.

”What’s wrong?” Isador asked.

Simon bit his lip and then sighed. “Do your siblings know? I do not mean to pry, but…”

Isador shook his head. “I don’t know. My father does. And I think Dorian does. But I don’t know about Salvi or Catherine. And certainly no one outside the family.” He clasped his hands, worrying his thumbs together. “It would be okay if they did, I think, but… I don’t want them to treat me differently.”

”I will not say a word.” It wasn’t as though he spent time with any of his siblings. At least, never intentionally. He was certainly not so close to them that it would be worth ruining trust with Isador. Or worse, hurting him. Hurting Isador was almost never going to be a consequence worth the action he took.

”Thank you,” Isador said. He sat straighter, glancing out the window. “I just hope they’re not disappointed that I couldn't close it already. Maybe it should have been Dorian after all. He would have known what to do.”

There was no reason to argue too aggressively with that. If Isador had not put together that he had been sent first in case it was too dangerous, if he had not realized he was a sacrificial lamb, Simon would not say it. He also would not profess his relief that Dorian had not come. It was better that Isador not ask questions. “For what it is worth, I am not disappointed. We learned quite a bit for a preliminary excursion. If we were meant to close it, they would have said that. You did well. We have accomplished what we set out to do, and you encouraged me to do more than what I would have without you. I certainly would not have entered that place.”

Isador looked at him wide-eyed. “You’re too kind to me.” He said it as if he had realized it suddenly.

Simon covered his mouth when he laughed. “Your standards ought to be higher.”

Isador smiled, but it fell just as quickly as it came. “Maybe so,” he said softly.

It was only a short way to the palace from here. Isador did not use that time to speak, instead remaining oddly quiet, eyes locked onto his hands. It was unlike him to forfeit a chance to chatter at Simon, but this entire journey had been strange. It would not surprise Simon if he was simply tired. After all, he was tired, too. 

The carriage came to a stop. Even as dread made its familiar home in the pit of his stomach, there was a certain relief. The bulk of this assignment was over. He would be able to go home, shut his curtains, and ignore that stark white light outside soon. What was inside it was none of his business. Most likely, Mari would find the source soon, and either Their Majesties or Dorian would be capable of putting it to rest.

This would not be any of his business. Simon refused to allow it.

Isador stepped out of the carriage first. He offered a hand. Simon took it. It would be easier this way. He knew that. It seemed Isador did, too.

It would have been uncomfortable regardless of the location of the meeting, but stepping into a dreary room with everyone seated around a table and turning at once was enough to make Simon’s skin crawl.  A pair of eyes, too blue and too cold, landed on him. Simon gripped Isador’s hand tighter for just a moment, but remembered his place, letting go of it to bow.

Their Majesties sat at the head of the table, flanked by their children, Mari, and their advisors from the Guard. Simon’s eyes fell on Callum Ma, a wide, strong man. He had been retired for some time, the former Captain of the Guard. He had been in Simon’s home several times when he was younger, occasionally joining other palace workers for dinner with his father. He had stopped some time ago and Simon had not seen him since. It was odd seeing him beside his replacement. Was this situation so dire that he would need to be summoned in addition to the current Captain?

”Please sit,” Her Majesty said, waving them forward. There were no more seats except for those at the opposite end of the table. Isador was not being invited to sit in his proper place near the table’s head. If he was offended, he did not show it. He simply pulled out a chair for Simon, sitting only after Simon did.

“Now, obviously, you didn’t take care of the light,” Dorian said, sighing as his eyes dragged over Simon. “Was there anything of note?”

Simon nodded. “On the second day, a door appeared,” he said, folding his hands on the table before him. “His Highness and I entered, and—“

”Isador.” His father’s tone was harsh.

Simon knew where this was going. He should have thought through this part of his description better to avoid this.

It was Dorian who raised his voice. “You would endanger the archivist? How foolish are you? Taking a close friend of the family into a dangerous unknown like that?”

”Your Highness,” Simon said softly, staring down at his hands. “My apologies. I insisted we investigate further. Please do not be upset. It was a rash choice, but I wanted to learn all that I could. We are both safe, and we learned much more than we could have otherwise.”

Isador’s face fell. Big blue eyes were filled with something that Simon didn’t quite understand. Had he said the wrong thing? It wasn’t entirely true but if it got Dorian to back off, wasn’t it alright? They would lose nothing from it.

Dorian’s brow narrowed. He knew Simon well enough to know that wasn’t a choice he would make, but this was not the place to call his bluff. Dorian knew that. “I apologize, little brother. I should not have assumed.” His fists were balled on the table and his eyebrows knitted. “Continue, Simon.”

”The spirits of those who have passed can appear there,” Simon said. “I saw a relative who is long since gone. She was benevolent, but… it was unsettling.” The way that thing had moved, devoid of light, had been disconcerting. “The encounter was brief, and then we left. The door was unlocked, and it was simple.”

Her Majesty frowned. “The dead can appear? Simon, that is asinine.”

He sighed. “I know. If we had not seen it, I would not believe it myself.”

Mari raised her hand delicately before speaking. “We have records of attempts by royal family members to bring the souls of loved ones back. I do not believe this is the case now, obviously, but… perhaps study of this could lead us in the right direction. Simon, do you believe this is something the Knight girl might have been studying?”

Simon nodded. “It would not surprise me. And I believe her involvement is undeniable at this point.”

Callum spoke, his voice low and gruff. “I see no reason to worry over this so urgently. How much damage can a pillar of light in a forest do?”

Isador frowned. “It is growing. It was larger the second day. And if it keeps going… What will happen if it gets all the way here? Or all the way around the world? Would we all be eaten up by that place?”

Mari rose. “Your Majesties, might I borrow my assistant? I believe this gives us an angle to pursue, and I also believe that we ought to begin now. Time is paramount to this.”

Dorian nodded. “Of course. We will give any necessary resource to the archival department. And Simon, I would argue, ought to be given a raise in compensation for the sort of courage it takes to investigate so closely. Don’t you think?”

He should have seen that coming. But to hear it out loud here, without warning, made Simon’s stomach drop.

That wasn’t fair.

When it had started, Simon had almost been grateful. A warm body beside him in an otherwise empty house. A gentle touch that knew how to calm him. A joke about him needing a raise for just how good he was. And then the sudden reality that the pay increase was real. Follow through to a line said for a laugh.  Alright. Fine.

But it had come with the realization of just how much power Dorian really had. A joke became real in an instant, with hardly a wave of his hand. The harshness with which he could sometimes touch Simon was too much, but at least it cleared his mind. At least when it was done, he knew that he would be given some extra pay and he would be even closer to leaving. Even if the feeling of those cold, bony fingers made his skin crawl, there was reward. Even if he pulled his hair too hard or bit down too harshly and drew blood, Simon would get his due.

When he had shoved Dorian off him the first time, his heart had pounded. He was going to lose everything. At least, he had thought so. The increase in his vacation time had come as a surprise. So long as Dorian had a chance to touch him, it seemed, he would be coaxed back with a prize.

That day in his office.

This wasn’t fair.

Simon stood. “Thank you, Your Highness.” He felt sick saying it in front of all of these people. None of them knew. None of them could ever know. He knew exactly what it would look like. Sleeping with the prince for pay. “Mari, I am ready.”

She nodded, and he was grateful to have him sweep him out of the room with a casual wave. “Are you feeling well?” she asked. I wasn’t accusatory. “You must have had quite a difficult few days.” As the door shut behind them, she added, “I know Prince Isador can be tiring at the best of times.”

Simon shook his head. “No. His Highness is fine. Traveling just tires me,” he said. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “And being in that place was strange.”

”I will not keep you long.” She guided him down the hall, to the basement door. There would be privacy here. “I just want you to see the records that we need to focus on. You’re free to study them in your office or here. See if there is any record of them being loaned out to Miss Knight.”

Simon nodded again. “Right.” As Mari moved through the shelves, scanning for whatever specific tome she had in mind, Simon came to a stop before the First Scepter. If Mari was still angry with him for supposedly never telling the royal family about its disappearance, she did not show it. “Mari?”

She paused. “Yes?” She peeked around the corner of a shelf.

”Did Mikhail study this? You worked at the archives with him and my father. And he… He must have been, right?”

The mention of his name was enough to make her visibly tense. “It is difficult to say exactly what he studied. He… looked into odd things. Some may have been applicable, but I did not like his methods.” She sighed. “I do not know if I can tell you much about it without venturing into territory I feel I have no right to drag you into.”

Simon turned, his eyes focusing back on the jeweled head of the scepter before him. “I understand.” He would have to go to Mikhail himself then.

So be it.