A proper uproar had taken hold of Katarina's mansion. The air hummed with muted voices, quick footsteps, and a ringing tension.
Marcus, who had only returned the day before from his miniature, granted leave, strode through the familiar corridors, every one of his nerves stretched taut, ready to snap at any moment.
The Empress's absence was a salvation thank the gods, he rattled off to himself, otherwise she would have already turned this place into a fiery hell.
That kid is a master at getting into trouble, Marcus thought, clutching a healer's report rolled into a tube. And that damned tendency of his to charge headfirst… he's completely brakeless.
The report was frightening. Yes, they'd patched the boy up, pulled him back from the brink again, for the third time in a single damned week, which was why his condition was far from optimal, despite the best healers.
A serious wound, severe blood loss, and general exhaustion… And if Katarina found out how badly her "future husband" had gotten messed up, it wouldn't just be Marcus in for it, but everyone who was there, and probably even those who weren't…
His first stop was to see Mona. The girl lay in her modest little room, bathed in the pale light from a high window.
A couple of lower-ranking servants bustled around her. The girl's life wasn't in danger, but she was unconscious, and Marcus, to his great chagrin, could do nothing to change that. Sighing dejectedly, he nodded to the maids and stepped out into the corridor.
Marcus left the room, feeling slightly bewildered, and continued his ruminations on the move. The kid wasn't just… as the saying goes, 'quick with a retort' no, he was a damned berserker who plowed straight through any situation Marcus could recall.
Phew… He knocked on the door to Saigo's chambers.
…
And once again, he's staring at this damned ceiling. Again. The guy checked himself over, moved his arms, legs, head the conclusion was one and the same: he'd screwed up again. This is getting out of hand. Okay, the first time, Marcus is a real piece of work, and my condition wasn't the best. The second time, hmm… well, that's complicated, Katarina is a monster in a fight, but even so… I could have done better. And that unknown guy… he was my equal. Saigo punched the wall, fresh anger playing across his face… And I just walked right into it. I need to focus…
He'd been ruminating in this vein almost all morning, and even when the servants came, the torrent of thoughts didn't cease; it just moved from his lips to the confines of his own skull. At first, he berated himself for weakness, but assessing strength is a subtle art, and breaking it down fact by fact, he arrived at a simple conclusion he was fine.
Kalis was a real beast, the kind where one of him would be enough to conquer a small country. Marcus was, after all, the second most powerful person in the empire and one of its strongest warriors; there were maybe three hundred like him in the entire empire, no more. As for Katarina, Saigo preferred not to reminisce, limiting himself to one fact: in the castle, he hadn't even seen a tenth of her arsenal.
And the unknown guy… he was just strange. Strong, yes, but strange. The blades, the fighting style… It wasn't so much an excuse, just…
So it turned out he'd run into the elite, those who literally held the top spots in terms of power, if such lists even existed, Saigo concluded.
Bang… Bang…
Sharp, clear knocks landed on the door from the other side.
"Who's there?" Saigo barked, startling the maids with his suddenness.
Without waiting for an answer, the door opened and the Captain entered the chambers of the day's wounded hero. The guy lay in bed, bandaged up to his ears. The white bandages contrasted with the bruises that, like flowers in a field, covered most of the available skin.
Servants bustled around, but upon seeing Marcus, they vanished instantly, like smoke.
"How are you?" Marcus asked, sinking into a chair opposite the bed.
"Could be better," Saigo muttered, trying to stretch his stiff arm. He'd recognized Marcus without any introduction. 'Armor or no armor, it doesn't matter, you can't hide your aura,' he recited to himself, sizing up his sudden visitor with an assessing look.
"That's putting it mildly. But before I read you the riot act, a request?"
"Shoot," Saigo said with mild surprise.
"Can you try not to get into trouble for at least a couple of days? Otherwise, Katarina will lock you up again, and make me guard you…" Marcus rattled off quickly, looking firmly into Saigo's green eyes. It wasn't that he was trying to find a shred of honesty there, or gods forbid, remorse. He was just curious to observe him in a calm setting…
"Don't be so dramatic. So what, a little skirmish with a couple of pathetic ghosts." Saigo deliberately downplayed the scale of the event. Ghost corpses are hard to find, and he knew this firsthand… there's little to no ectoplasm. Which meant he'd just messed up and walked right into a blow…
"That's true, of course," Marcus scratched the back of his head. "But the reason they were there in the first place…" He fell silent, meeting Saigo's sharp, probing gaze. "Corpses. Lots of corpses. And their belongings. It turns out some jailers, in cahoots with the warden, often 'helped' prisoners take the shortest route to the next world, while picking them clean."
"Wait, no, I get how the gold and jewels got there, but cabinets and nightstands… people don't usually carry that kind of stuff in their pockets…" Ignoring the assassin's joke, Marcus replied.
"They went into their homes supposedly to look for evidence." Marcus sighed heavily.
"In the end, hundreds of prisoners disappeared this way. The investigation is still ongoing, but my gut tells me mass executions will start tomorrow." The man shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "The Empress does not forgive such things."
"Serves them right," Saigo added his own comment and sank back into the pillows.
"And where did you even come from, to land on our heads like this?" Marcus couldn't help asking.
"What, am I in your way?"
"Not at all," Marcus interrupted him. "But you're too active. You move around too much and create waves. I don't know what you've dreamed up for yourself, but you will most likely be Emperor, whether you like it or not. And…"
"No 'and'," Saigo cut him off. "I'm getting out of here. I'll even wave a handkerchief at you in farewell, you'll see." Marcus felt a flicker of frustration. Hearing such declarations, in the guy's current condition, was akin to pure madness.
"Yeah," Marcus couldn't help himself and lit a cigarette. We've had stupid Emperors, we've had malicious and aggressive Emperors, but an aggressive idiot is a new one, Marcus started to say, but abruptly stopped short.
He looked at Saigo, then at the door, and started the conversation again, this time with utmost seriousness, "Saigo… do you feel it too?"
A spasm ran down the young man's back. His relaxed posture instantly shifted to tense readiness.
"Oh, hell…" he said…
"Well, I'm off." Marcus tossed back, turning in his chair.
"Don't just stand there! Help me. Do something with her, anything at all," Saigo almost wailed in panic, his gaze freezing on the room's main doorway.
"Nope, not a chance, kid," Marcus put a hand on his uninjured shoulder. "Good luck."
"Screw you."
"I will," Marcus replied.
And at that very second, the door flew open with a deafening crash. Katarina stormed into the room like a hurricane.
"Darling!"
Without slowing down, she launched herself onto the bed, pinning Saigo to the mattress. The unexpected impact and pain made his vision darken, the world losing its color, narrowing to her frightened, enraged, insanely beautiful face leaning over him.
"Saigo! Saigo!"