The Knights of the Golden Palace turned their backs on me and walked away. Sir Wilson glanced back, hesitant to leave things as they were, but in the end he only offered me a sad wave before following behind the others.

Harlow gave me one last withering stare and scoffed audibly. I fearlessly glared back, arms crossed and defiant. Nico looked like he wanted to say something to me, but Harlow dragged him away before he could utter a single word.

“Hey, Vargas,” I said once we were alone, “Thank you. You didn’t have to help me like that, and I want you to know that I really appreciate it.”

Vargas scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, “No worries. I mean, it’s not like we hadn’t figured you had your reasons for wanting to leave. The whole point of Falyn letting you come along was to get you out of there. Besides, I owed you for helping me the other night.”

“Still, I appreciate it,” I murmured, looking at my feet, “I… I’m not sure how to say this without sounding pathetic. Those men were my closest friends and mentors. People I thought would always have my back. Ever since I joined the Palace knights, all I’ve heard from them is brotherhood and loyalty, and supporting one another no matter what. But I guess that only applies if you follow their rules. I’m the one who’s walking away, but they’re the ones who abandoned me. It hurts more than I expected it to. So I think I appreciate your help even more because of that.”

Betrayal. Yes, that’s what I was feeling; an aching in my heart that told me I’d been wronged by the people I trusted. This had always been the only possible outcome. I was different from them in a way they couldn’t accept. I'd known that, but knowing didn’t stop it from hurting.

Vargas sighed, “Look, I don’t know you all that well, but from what I’ve seen, you deserve better friends than that. While you were busy with Harlow, I heard them ranting about blasphemy and dereliction of duty, but I still can’t figure out what you did to piss them off so much.”

“One of them overheard me saying that I've been avoiding my Royal duty,” I confessed, once again regretting my loose tongue. If only I’d been sober enough to keep my mouth shut.

“Royal duty?” Vargas asked with a raised eyebrow.

“The Royal duty is to beget the Royal heir,” I elaborated, “As a result, every Royal is born, raised, and eventually dies within the walls of the inner city. Some of us become knights, others train as scribes or run small businesses within the city, but none of us ever get to leave. Because no matter which path we choose from our limited pool of options, our true purpose remains the same: procreate as often as possible to ensure the Royal line continues. And that is what I’ve been avoiding.”

Vargas burst into laughter, “Wait, so you’re in trouble because you don’t mate enough? That might be the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard!”

His reaction brought an unexpected smile to my face, “Essentially, yes. I’m in trouble for not mating enough. There’s more to it than just that, but that’s why they’re upset with me.”

“So how is that blasphemous?” Vargas inquired, his eyes bright with amusement.

At least one of us found the situation amusing.

“The Royal duty isn’t mandated by the crown, but the church of Vraylewit,” I explained, “So, because I disobeyed divine mandate and spoke out against the church’s teaching, I have committed blasphemy.”

“Those rules apply to all of the people you introduced us to?”

“Every last one of them,” I confirmed, “Most Royals have no complaints about it, though. As soon as we're old enough to comprehend language, the church teaches us that our sole purpose is to birth the golden-eyed heir. In exchange for performing our duties, we receive hardship-free lives and endless luxury. Despite the restrictions, there are very few who would rebel against a life of indulgence and pleasure. To them, I’m nothing but a threat to their way of life.”

Vargas scrunched his nose, “Well, that sure is fucked up. But you don’t believe in all that shit, right?”

“Of course not!” I assured him, surprised that he even had to ask, “If I believed all that then I wouldn’t be standing here right now. I’m fully aware that what we are taught is a means of controlling us, not the will of the Gods. Even if I preferred women, it would still be wrong. It’s an entire system built on taking away our right to choose.”

“Every time I think you humans can’t get any worse, someone goes and proves me wrong,” Vargas muttered, shaking his head and scowling, “I don’t include you or Falyn in this, but humans are fucking awful.”

Oddly enough, his disgust made me feel a little better.

“We can be pretty awful,” I agreed, a bitter laugh accompanying my words, “I know I’ve lived a fairly sheltered life, but the more I learn, the more I hate what we’ve become. But that doesn’t mean we’re all bad. There are a lot of humans who hurt and persecute others or think they have the right to dictate the lives of others. However, there are also those who want us to be better. My cousin Elantro is one of them, despite his many faults. Falyn is too, of course, which is one of the reasons why I wanted to follow him.”

“So what now?” Vargas inquired, studying me carefully.

“Now?” I echoed thoughtfully, “Now, I follow the path I chose and hope it leads to something better. I’m sad and a little hurt, but I’m also relieved. The worst has happened and it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. If nothing else, I won’t have to live like that anymore. Every cloud has its silver lining and all that.”

“You’re taking it pretty well,” he remarked, “Better than I would have expected.”

My facade cracked a little at his assessment, and I swallowed the urge to cry.

“Not really,” I admitted quietly, “I’m actually a bit of a mess. I've lost everything, and I can't even summon the will to fight for it. I’m just putting on a brave face while taking the coward’s way out. I’m kind of pathetic when I think about it.”

“Evan,” Vargas interrupted in a heavy tone, “don’t you think you’re being a little hard on yourself? A coward would keep his head down, join with some female he could never love, make some cubs, and die with a heart full of regret. It ain’t a hero’s bravery, but it takes balls to leave it all behind.”

“Still feels like I’m running away,” I muttered, though I was secretly comforted by his words.

“Can’t help ya there,” he replied with a shrug, “You’re the one who knows for sure if you’re running away or not. But for the record, I wouldn’t blame you if you are.”

“Would you be offended if I told you that I didn’t expect you to be so insightful?”

“Depends,” Vargas answered with a smirk, “Is it because I’m a beastman, or because of who I am as a person?”

Without hesitation, I said, “The latter.”

“Then yeah, I’m offended. Fucker.”