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I awoke with purpose.

While Basil prepped for a battle that they would lose, I surveyed the future holding cell of the Moon Child. If the vessel had remained hidden this long, its powers were still dormant. Like any human, it could be held by chains, stymied by metal bars, and encouraged by steel tools. Hellena Prison had all of those in abundance as well as people eager to use them. Some human nations had a practice of sequestering individuals possessing unstable minds. If those inmates took charge of their asylums the result would resemble Hellena.

I once spent time as involuntary guest of a prison and during those months I learned how these sorts of places operate. My younger self had thought my warden to be cruel, but she was merely firm in comparison with the head of this fortress. Frugal seemed to be more belly than brains, which concerned me. Preventing escapes and suicides is fairly easy, but with some individuals it requires an attention to detail that blustery men like Frugal tended to lack.

I chose the guards of her floor myself. They were men that had a peculiar attachment to one other and would, therefore, likely leave the girl untouched or at least as much as I needed her to be.

With that task completed I returned to my employer. I found the king among his favorite beasts. A tawny horse carried King Albert around the livery yard for a cool-down walk. His face was flushed and his skin glistened from pleasant exertion. He appeared to have out-ridden his usual entourage of royal pages and guards. Without them, he could have passed for an average man. In his tan riding trousers chased with green and his unadorned, cream colored long-sleeved shirt he might have been a minor lord's young son or a common knight's handsome squire. He dismounted then waved a stable boy away and made off to care for his mount himself. I watched from a distance as he loosened the saddle and led the horse inside of a low-ceilinged stable. Horses in Serdio, much like most of their owners, are usually quartered in unremarkable buildings which favor function over aesthetics. Even the crown carved above the entrance lacked extravagant scrollwork. My hometown wasn't particularly prosperous, but our leaders always displayed their splendor. Not so for Basil's ruler. As I approached the stable, I wondered if King Albert's forefathers had also lived with such humility or if two decades of civil war had caused it.

Just inside of the entrance a groomsmen's closet overlooked the main hall which ran the length of the stable. Two groomsmen looked up as I tried to sneak past. The pair sat on low stools at a rough table mending bridles. I quietly suggested a small outdoor task for them to perform. After a moment's hesitation, they left. Consequently, I managed to isolated the king.

My black cloak drifted softly as I approached the stall he had entered. He had left the stall open so I did not fear betrayal from the creak of the swinging wooden door. His back faced me, but the horse saw and pawed nervously at the ground. King Albert gently soothed her with his hands and his voice. He undid the buckle and tucked the stirrups away before removing the saddle. I crept toward the threshold. He noticed my shadow on the ground and turned.

"Hello, Councilor." He moved to the other side of the horse so that we faced one another. "Are you feeling better?"

"I am, You Grace." I let an awkward pause linger before adding, "Much better, in fact."

"Is something troubling you?" As he removed a saddle blanket the color of spring leaves, the horse nudged him affectionately and some of the tension slid from the king's face. "It is always hard to read you, but you seem…preoccupied."

He lifted a damp sponge and began to wipe sweaty saddle marks from the horse's back.

"No, well yes, that is..." I started over. "I'm just glad to have found you here. I was trying to." I made my voice sound hesitant, fearful even.

"I mean to say that I needed to speak with you in private and here you are. It seems almost providential." The nervous tremor wasn't entirely an act. I knew the king was devout but, I wasn't sure if he would find my words excessive. Fortunately, he nodded slowly and seriously. With a motion, he welcomed me to join him in the stall.

"I spoke with Doel."

He paused briefly then continued cleaning as he absorbed my words. His eyes lingered on the tan back of his palfrey. "I suspected as much."

Somehow I had made a mistake. My black boots consumed my view though I did not recall bowing my head. "Truly?"

"I grew up hoping for a peaceful end to this war; an apologetic surrender or a tearful family reunion perhaps. But now I know my uncle. He has spies in the castle, and he wants something more." He cleaned lather off the long face.

"That raven by your bedside. It was one of his message carriers, was it not?"

King Albert was undeniably intelligent. I should have guessed that he could puzzle out my divided loyalties. Now I had to think of a new plan.

"Yes," I admitted with genuine reluctance. "Doel wanted me to do his bidding."

He breathed a sigh too weary for his years. "How did he tell you to do it? An asp in my bed? Poison in my goblet?

My lips twisted into a grimace. He was closer than he knew.

"I am not his (man)." The earnestness in my voice surprised even me. "I do not know his plans nor do I wish to."

"I wish that you did. Perhaps if he gave you his trust, revealed his plans to you, you could warn my commanders."

Relief trickled through me after that comment. The king seemed certain that I had resisted Doel's temptation and remained loyal to Basil.

Then something flickered across his eyes. A thread of doubt, a hint of worry, or perhaps guilt. Maybe he wanted to express something he could not say. I wondered if his mind had raced to assassination because he himself longed to send someone to assassinate the self-styled emperor. King Albert could not know that there was no one better to discuss it with than me. I had more experience than most.

"It would be a great service to the kingdom," he finished.

For a strange moment I wanted to be his double agent. But though I was growing fond of this young ruler, following his suggestion would add unnecessary complications to my plan. "Your Grace, such an assignment would honor me, but I fear I am not worthy of it."

"Pray tell me the reason."

"My allegiance would be easily discovered. Your Majesty spoke truthfully about spies. I suspect that Doel has already placed an informant in our midst and he knows my loyalty lies with you."

He peered at me from under a tumble of hair that had fallen loose from his ponytail. I explained my suspicions about his minister of diplomacy, Kelosh. In hushed tones, the king told me of his own. By the end of the conversation, I felt certain that Kelosh would soon be exposed and tried for treason. Before that happened, I wanted to use my interrogation aid so that if the poison was noticed, the blame might possibly fall on him, at least initially. An excuse occurred to me.

"My heart is lighter having confessed this matter to you, Sire. You must be thirsty from your ride.

Allow me to fetch you a cup of water from the groom's closet."

I surprised myself again as I realized that I did not want him to accept my offer. A part of me hoped he would foil every attempt that I made against him.

"That would be refreshing," said King Albert.

By light from the stable entrance, I tipped the vial over the water. The dark wood of the cup's interior would hide any slight tint of color the poison might produce. After a hard afternoon ride, the king would probably drain the cup too quickly to notice a strange taste. I had the disquieting suspicion that my work might have been too easy, but I set it aside and returned to the stall where I found the king bent over the tan palfrey's foot, picking rocks out of a horseshoe with a metal tool.

"Thank you, councilor," he said as I extended the cup to him.

I watched a lump move up and down his throat as he gulped the water down in a few swallows. And I hoped that Doel had not lied to me.