Catching up on missed reports was Yuze’s second most-hated task, after being in charge when Chenzhou was unavailable. They’d only been gone for two weeks, and sohow his desk was completely lost under the piles of scrolls and papers that needed his attention.
To his sha, there were even a few left from those three weeks when Chenzhou and Eirian had been unconscious, and he didn’t feel any more motivated to look at them now than he did back then.
They were minor supply reports anyway.
Several agents had sent in reports from the borderlands while they’d been in Tira-Lian and Yuze, anticipating an early start to the fighting season, had prioritized them over the reports from inside the Calia.
He tensed when soone knocked on the door, covering everything on his desk before he called out to co in.
Yuze let out a soft sigh of relief when Fox entered. Snake’s late-night visits had been increasing, and she always stayed so long and asked so many questions that Yuze could never really relax.
In contrast, Fox never wanted to talk to Yuze and usually just dropped off his reports and left.
Half the ti, Yuze wasn’t even there when he did; he just returned to his office at random tis and found them waiting on his desk.
True to form, Fox handed him a report, but to Yuze’s surprise, he didn’t imdiately turn around and leave. Instead, he glanced around, and even though Yuze couldn’t see his face, the tenseness in his shoulders and his wide stance revealed he was unsure of sothing.
Yuze wasn’t great at breaking awkward monts himself, but before he could try, Fox did it himself. “I sent the kids down to the Vault.”
Yuze blinked, his mouth opened, and then shut as he absorbed Fox’s words. “Kids?”
“The Verer and the two knockoffs.”
“Hey,” Yuze was offended on their behalf.
Fox’s head tilted to the side like a bird, sothing Yuze was starting to realize he did when he was amused. “No offense.”
“Wait, you sent them to the Vault?”
“Caught them following Snake and one of her sources.”
Yuze winced.
“Nearly got caught, too.”
Yuze groaned. “You got them out?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you.” Yuze sank back in his seat, the day starting to weigh on him. “Why the Vault?”
Fox shrugged. “Figured they could tackle the black market problem.”
Yuze couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of him. “The- shit, Fox, did you at least warn them?”
“Nope.” He didn’t even sound like he felt bad about it. “They needed sothing to keep them out of trouble.”
Yuze stiffened. “Trouble? What trouble was there with Snake and her source?”
Fox hesitated, tilted his head to the other side. Apparently, left was awkward and right was cautious. “Did Snake ntion she was eting with a source?”
“No? All of you have plenty of etings that never amount to anything reportable.”
Fox’s head tilted again.
“Just say it, please. I’m already drowning in paperwork.”
“It only piles up when you ignore it.”
A growl clawed its way out of Yuze’s throat.
“Don’t know that it’s anything yet.”
Yuze took a deep breath, the urge to push was there, but pushing people who kept and ferreted out secrets for a living was generally unrewarding. “Well, let know when it’s not.”
For a mont, Fox just stood silently, and Yuze wished desperately that he could actually see his face. Then he nodded. “Sure.” And left.
Yuze watched him go, feeling off balance even though he was sitting. Fox definitely lived up to his na, a curious creature.
But that was officially the longest non-work conversation they’d ever had, and it made sothing in Yuze go a little fuzzy.
And he had a slightly vicious sense of humor that Yuze was starting to enjoy.
He was going down a dangerous road.
He needed to go back to his paperwork and not fantasize about things that didn’t matter.
And would never co true.
The intelligent reports were mostly in order. Like most things in life, they followed certain patterns, so when Yuze read the first report about the largest Northern tribe moving south a month early, he wasn’t completely surprised when the second report said one of the prominent Southern tribes was moving north in tandem.
Two more reports reported more movent in the central stretch, which was usually unoccupied this ti of year. In the past, similar movents had preceded tribal conclaves, and given that the fighting season was set to start in a few weeks…
Were the tribes already planning sothing?
***
Brigitta had dressed up for her first full day of exploring the Calia. She’d planned to track down Eirian and continue the discussion from the night before, and she wanted to look her best when she did.
Eirian had been blessed with looks most found striking, and Brigitta always needed to put in more effort when they were together in public. She was in her best gown, layers of tulle and silk, a tight bodice that amplified the curves childbirth had given her, and piled her hair high behind a pearl tiara Francis had given her as a gift after she’d given birth.
She’d even worn her best heels.
A terrible decision she’d only realized when she nearly catapulted down the stairs. She hadn’t noticed it before, but most of the stairs in the Calia were smaller and steeper than those found in Aontacht. Francis caught her before she hit anything, and she’d had to cling to him every ti they traversed any stairs.
They’d both been annoyed by the ti they made it down to the ground floor, and Brigitta had made Francis stop and wait while she fixed her gown.
“Why did you wear sothing so ridiculous?” Francis had little patience for anything he didn’t deem important.
“Looking good matters. You know that.” He took just as long to get ready for parties as she did. But admittedly, he tended to be a slob in private, and Brigitta knew he didn’t consider visiting the Calia the sa as the parties in the capital.
His daughter was Lady of the Calia. As far as Francis was concerned, it was his as much as hers.
“I saw a garden field from the window, let’s go there first.” This gown looked best in sunlight.
Francis sighed, but offered his arm and let her lead him along without a word.
They stepped outside to sunshine and a long stretch of newer green grass and nothing else.
“They certainly don’t put much effort into the gardens,” Brigitta muttered.
Francis snorted. “They could at least plant a few trees. Or place a bench. Or a walking path.”
“Perhaps I’ll ntion it to Eirian.” Brigitta mused as they stepped onto the grass.
They ignored the first whistle, gone as fast as it ca.
The second ended with an arrow landing inches from Brigitta’s foot.
~ tbc
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