Despite my sober state the night before, I awoke the next morning feeling hungover. 

After delivering Vargas to his room, I had spent several more movements wandering aimlessly, lost in thought, before finally retiring to my room in the barracks at dawn. I had barely laid my head on the pillow when I was dragged out of bed by the sound of the trumpet that indicated it was time for morning training. 

I didn’t even bother checking my appearance in the mirror before stumbling bleary-eyed down to the training grounds. Four movements of training in the morning, followed by a midday meal, then six movements of guard duty, followed by an evening meal and even more training– such was my daily life. It didn’t matter how poorly I'd slept, duty still called me every morning at the top of the sixth movement.

Right as we were finishing our warm-up exercises, Sir Gentry called out, “Everyone! Gather round. I have an announcement to make.”

Obediently, we lined up and awaited what he had to say.

“As all of you are already aware, the former Marquis of Ramport was kidnapped and injured on our watch,” Sir Gentry stated, his eyes sweeping across the assembled knights, “I acknowledge that most of you were not on duty at the time, as the incident occured during your training movements. However, that doesn't change the situation one bit. This is a failure that reflects on all of us. I will be having this conversation with all of the training groups, so please do not feel as though you are being singled out. That being said, we, as the Knights of the Golden Palace, all share a measure of responsibility for what happened to the Marquis, and therefore, it is our duty to make amends.”

There was a contradictory blending of both shame and pride in his demeanor as he spoke. His steely, yet remorseful countenance made many of the others restless, shifting awkwardly under his gaze when it landed on them. But neither his gaze nor his words shook me, as he wasn’t saying anything I hadn’t already considered last night.

“As such,” Sir Gentry continued, “His Highness has devised a solution that will allow us to simultaneously compensate the Marquis and restore the honor of the Palace knights. I have pledged him my full support in this endeavor. Most of you aren’t going to like this, but there is no doubt that it is necessary.”

I couldn’t speak for anyone else, but I, for one, was very interested to hear what they were planning. If my fellow knights wouldn’t like it, then it was probably a great idea. The knights were notoriously conservative and rigid in their views. 

Ignoring the confused expressions around him, Sir Gentry continued, “His Highness, the First Prince Elantro, has decreed that one of the Knights of the Golden Palace shall be reassigned, permanently charged with serving the Marquis.”

“How can this be?!” Sir Laniston burst out, his voice tinged with panic, “How could His Highness send one of us into exile? Even if we made a mistake, this is too cruel!”

The older knights around him tried to quiet his outburst, but his youthful indignation was not so easily silenced. At just barely eighteen, and having joined our ranks only two moon cycles prior, it was expected that he would lack the discipline required to hold his tongue at such a time.

Ignoring his outburst, Sir Gentry explained, “It is our hope that one of you will find it in your heart to volunteer. Rather than thinking of it as exile, you should think of this as an opportunity. Whoever is chosen will get to experience the world beyond the Golden City, whilst redeeming the honor of the Palace knights and rendering a great service to our future King. I should also mention that those with less than one year of experience, or more than twenty-five, will not be considered, so Sir Laniston need not concern himself so much.”

The young Sir Laniston looked instantly relieved upon hearing he was exempt, as did many of the older knights. Meanwhile, those who fell within the eligible age range looked as if they might consider committing treason if ordered to go. 

I, on the other hand, stepped forward and proudly declared, “I volunteer!”

After all, wasn’t this the exact opportunity I’d been waiting for?

The moment the words left my mouth, I felt dozens of shocked, incredulous eyes fall on me. Sir Laniston looked particularly distraught, as though I was martyring myself for the good of the order.

“Then you should speak with His Highness immediately after morning training is complete, Sir Evan,” Sir Gentry informed me with an indulgent smile. Then, he returned his attention to the group and announced, “I have taken enough of your time. Train hard and make us proud!”

The rest of morning training passed without incident. By the time we finished, the sun was high overhead and my body was coated in a sticky sheen of sweat, making me wish there were time to bathe before lunch. It wasn’t as bad as it was during the summer months, but even as the leaves were falling, the midday sun remained a formidable foe.

As I was about to head back to the main Palace, a figure standing at the edge of the training ground caught my attention.

“Vargas!” I called out, waving to him from my position by the equipment rack. 

He raised a hand in greeting but didn’t come any closer. Sensing his hesitation, I took the initiative and jogged over to him, ignoring the curious stares of the other knights. They didn’t share the nobles’ prejudices against the beastmen, but we were an insular group. Greeting any outsider with such enthusiasm wasn’t a common occurrence. 

“Mornin’,” Vargas muttered gruffly once I was within earshot.

“Good morning to you too,” I responded carefully, but I was glad to see that he wasn’t looking all that much worse for wear than I was. After I greeted him, Vargas looked at the ground and remained silent, showing uncharacteristic reticence. When I realized he wasn’t going to say anything, I added, “Feeling a bit better this morning?”

He grimaced and replied, “Depends on your definition of better, I guess. I feel like someone shoved burning hot fire poker through my eye, but… you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” I acknowledged, choosing not to press further. I wasn’t sure how sensitive he would be about the scene I'd witnessed the night before, and I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. 

“So, the thing is… Shit, I’m no good at this stuff,” Vargas muttered, looking around him like he hoped someone might come to his rescue. When no help came, he finally blurted out, “Thanks for last night.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at how much effort he put into saying it. I wanted to make him squirm a bit, but I let him off easy with a simple, “You’re welcome.”

Vargas visibly relaxed, “Seriously though, I appreciate it. Last night was kind of a breaking point for me. If you hadn't been there, I might've done something stupid. So thank you, and could we please never speak of it again?”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” I teased, “I kinda feel like you owe me now. Emotional support is free, but do you have any idea how many stairs I had to carry your drunk ass up? At a minimum, you owe me a drink. First tavern we come across once we’ve left Vrayna, you’re buying.”

“Once we’ve left Vrayna?” Vargas inquired, raising an eyebrow at my wording, “When did it become 'we'?”

“Did I forget to mention it? I’m part of the group that’s going to the Beastlands for training. I can’t believe I didn’t bring it up sooner. Point being, once we’ve left Vrayna, you owe me a drink,” I informed him cheerfully.

“So the little knight boy is finally gonna spread his wings?” Vargas smirked, but he seemed to be genuinely happy for me.

I smacked his arm and muttered indignantly, “Who are you calling 'little knight boy'? I’ve been a man for years.”

I'm not sure what he found so funny, but my retort made Vargas roar with laughter. 

“Fine, little knight man. Happy now?” he asked once he had finished laughing at my expense.

“I’ll have you know there is nothing little about me,” I retorted, puffing up my chest before my own laughter overtook me. When he wasn’t a crying, drunken mess, Vargas was a lot of fun to talk to. Of the beastmen I’d met so far, he was undeniably my favorite. 

“Anyway,” I continued, changing the subject, “since you’re here, I want to ask you something.”

“Oh? And what’s that?” 

“Do you think the Marquis would be willing to accept a Palace knight into his service?” I inquired.

Both of his eyebrows shot up at the unexpected question, then he flatly replied, “Nope. Not a chance.” 

I flinched a little at his immediate rejection. But it was as expected. 

“But now you’ve got me curious,” Vargas added, “Why are you asking?”

“Can you keep a secret?” I asked, lowering my voice in case someone was lurking nearby. Given there had already been an official announcement, I doubted it had to be kept secret, but I also wasn’t sure if I was supposed to discuss it openly before everything was finalized.

“As long as I don’t hear you yappin’ ‘bout my messy state last night, all of your secrets are safe with me,” Vargas answered with a pointed look.

“His Highness wishes to gift the Marquis the service of a Palace knight as compensation for his grievances,” I explained quietly, “and I was hoping he might consider it if I was the knight being offered. I still have to convince His Highness to allow it, but after that, the Marquis will get the final say.”

Vargas considered my words for a moment, then sighed, “If that's the case, he might agree. But don't get your hopes up.”

“Fair enough,” I replied, though my hopes were already higher than they should be. Then, with a smirk, I asked “In the meantime, fancy a spar before I go talk to His Highness?”

The hungover Vargas immediately and firmly declined.