Sunday arrived cold and humid. It was the first week of October, and you could tell. A silky mist veil oozed out of the woods, covering the grassland and stretching far past the school, down the open plains, where the rising colorless sun began to slowly disperse it. I had a wool muffler wrapped tightly around my neck and I raised the front up to my nose to fend off the damp, chill wind. It was no use. I was still freezing solid as we stood waiting for pickup in front of the school gate, hands stuffed deep in the coat pockets.

  “You’re not cold, are you?” Emily asked, next to me. She didn't even wear a muffler, her pale neck exposed to the elements, but appeared none the worse for wear.

  “No, I only look like it,” I said and kept trembling.

  “Gosh. Are you sick?”

  Emily leaned closer to examine my face. I leaned the other way.

  “No. I'm just no good with low temperatures.”

  After eight months of fighting in infernal Arbusia, the desert heat was infused so deep into my being that anything below twenty degrees centigrade was glacial now. Inhuman.

  “Hmm,” the girl made a curious sound. “That's unexpected. So even you have stuff you’re bad with?”

  I scowled at the girl. “Shall I show you what you're bad with?”

  “Don't get upset! Geez. I just thought it was cute.”

  “...”

  Maybe I should leave her to walk. I wasn't prepared for these stealth hits.

  My glasses kept getting foggy too, my breath condensed on the lenses. Why the Hell was I even wearing them? Before I knew it, they'd become an inseparable part of my identity. I took the spectacles off and irritably stuffed them in the inner pocket of my coat. My fingers were growing stiff and I reminded myself to buy gloves somewhere.

  At long last, the familiar auto pulled up along the road from the ghostly distance between the pines and stopped in front of us. Nicholas courteously climbed out and came to open the passenger door for us, wearing a casual smile. But I had no smiles for him.

  “Late!” I barked at the man, shuddering. The clock was already ten past ten.

  He fixed his face at once.

  “I–my apologies, milady! The auto battery died, and I had to replace it. They’re not fond of cold either, these things.”

  Technology gave people too many easy excuses.

  “Hi, Nick,” Emily greeted the driver. “Thanks for coming to pick us up. Don't mind the Boss, she's just a little cranky today.”

  Over the weeks she'd stayed with us, Emily had gotten to know the staff better than I ever did.

  “Haha, it's fine,” the driver replied. “She sure is the General’s daughter.”

  “What's that supposed to mean?” I growled.

  “Nothing!”

  “I'm meeting the General today. Maybe I'll have a word about your work ethic with her.”

  “This is exactly what I was talking about…!” the cheeky chauffeur lamented as he returned behind the steering wheel, and we could get going.

  If we had any luck and he kept a boot on the pedal, we might still make it by the appointed time at noon.

  “Is your mother a scary person?” Emily asked me. “Ms Asia is so nice, I wondered if everyone in your family was like her, but…”

  “...But since I'm an evil witch, my mother might be just as bad or worse?”

  “I never said that!”

  “Don't yell in my ear. It was a joke. The—my mother is a good person. You two have a lot in common, actually.”

  “We do?”

  “Yes.”

  Strong sense of justice. Irrationally hung up on balance and fairness. Resolved to walk her own path, even if it leads to ruin. Short fuse. Vengeful. Ready and willing to resort to violence for what she thinks is right. And also, peerlessly cute when you managed to catch her with her guard down. Well, that wasn’t a trait you could tell to others.

  I napped on the way, half listening to Emily’s endless chatter. She had something to say about anything, though most of it made no sense and gave me a headache, but mysteriously enough, I didn't hate that in her case. It was a pleasant sort of noise. We reached the city thankfully on time and my mood began to get better as the day brightened. The sun had climbed well above the horizon, it was warm in the auto, I wasn’t shivering, and the world looked less evil and hazardous.

  Charlotte was at the garage to receive us.

  I hadn't notified the house that I’d bring Emily with me, so I had to ask her to wait there.

  “I'll only go see my mother for a bit and come back,” I told her. “We can have lunch in the city after that. Or, you can go ahead, if you don't feel like waiting for me. We’ll head back to the school at around four, so just be here by then.”

  “Oh, I don't mind waiting,” Emily said, “but are you sure that's alright? Don't you want to spend some time with your mom, now that you have the chance? You haven’t seen her in months, have you?”

  Me, spending quality time with the General? It took conscious effort not to start giggling.

  We'd set up this family act for practical reasons, but it couldn't have been more awkward for both of us.

  “Mother is always busy,” I said. “I suspect she'll have to head out soon again. It's fine. I'll be back.”

  “Right…?”

  I left my puzzled classmate to stand on the far side of the grass field and headed together with Charlotte to the manor, the long building rising ahead like a marble tsunami. The maid was unusually quiet, and the tense air about her seemed to discourage questions. So I held my tongue and walked.

  General Ruthford awaited me in the dining hall. The unnecessarily long dinner table had been moved away, and there was only one small, round parlor table in its place, covered with a white cloth. The one tangible island in the parquet-dressed sea of solitude. An antique tea set sat on a silvery tray on the table, with a high, decorative pot, and two cups on plates as thin as eggshells.

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  The General sat back in her uniform, arms crossed, eyes closed, waiting. She wasn't a fan of that.

  “Just about on time,” she remarked. I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was 11.58. “Sit.”

  “Good day to you too, dear ‘mother,’” I said as I took my chair.

  The woman sighed and gestured at the maid to leave. “Good day, Hope.”

  Then she took the teapot into her own hands and began to fill our cups. Her hands moved with ease and the steaming tea actually landed in the cups without spilling. Suppose she really was the daughter of a noble house.

  “How was school?”

  —“Why didn't you tell me?”

  I didn’t mean to say anything. But those words had waited weeks to get out, and now they burst out unbidden like steam from a kettle.

  The General's hands stilled. “What?”

  “That man is there.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Don't act stupid. My ‘Master.’ Couren. He’s a professor at Belmesion. The supervisor of my own class. You’re not going to pretend that’s just a crazy coincidence, are you? Why didn't you tell me beforehand?”

  “Great…” The General sighed again, harder, and set down the pot, looking like her head hurt. “...I honestly didn't know that. I’m not omniscient. I had no reason to keep track of Couren’s whereabouts after the closure of the Nines program. He must have used his own contacts to get the job. It was not some plot I concocted just to torment you, you have my word. There weren’t even any plans to send you to the academy before this spring. He couldn’t have somehow predicted what we’d do years before even we knew it. It’s a pure coincidence.”

  He couldn't have. Could he have...?

  The General didn't always tell solely the truth, but if she went out of her way to swear on it, she meant what she said.

  Her Knight's honor couldn't be disputed without putting your life on the line. At least she personally wasn’t involved.

  “...Fine.”

  “Is it going to be a problem? I’ll have him removed, if so.”

  I rolled my eyes. Did I want him dead? The man who was the closest thing I had to a father? True, it was a distance measured in AUs, not yards or even miles, but all the same, there was never anybody else. But I didn't want that in front of me now, at a time like this.

  Calm down. Breathe. I picked up my teacup. The tea was hot and I drank it too fast, burning my tongue and throat. But the pain seemed just what I needed now. It cleared my thoughts.

  “No. It doesn't matter. If he's really only working there. But I'm not taking orders from that man again. So don't plan on it.”

  “Noted. And then? Are there any other concerns I should know of?”

  “No. There's nothing. The school is easy.”

  If we forget about the Archmage hating me, his granddaughter hating me, and me planting a landmine on my classmate. That was still nothing to write home about. An average day in the office.

  “I could've put this much in a letter,” I said. “You didn’t come all the way here from Lufield just to ask how I fared at school, did you?”

  The General didn't immediately answer. Her expression was unusually clouded and conflicted. To escape my stare, she turned to peer out of the tall dining hall windows, shaking the teacup in her hand like it contained something stronger an Assam. Her obvious discomfort was wearing my nerves thin.

  “Is it about the Tarachians?”

  “Ah. There's that too,” she remarked, as if she only just remembered. “About a week ago, a village was raided in Clamber, Valenz, close to the Wood. All the villagers were slain. No survivors. No witnesses. But only food and medical supplies were reportedly stolen. Local authorities blamed the attack on criminal gangs, but the crown investigator found tracks going into the Forest. That's not a hideout ordinary bandits favor.”

  I frowned at the story.

  “Why would the Tarachians reveal themselves there, too early? After a thousand miles in the realm of monsters to conceal their approach?”

  “Perhaps they had no choice. Stealing medicine would suggest they have wounded with them. That limits their unit’s mobility and hunting options.”

  I snorted at the idea. “Is that what the analysts said? You know better than that. The Tarachian special forces would sooner execute their wounded than compromise the objective.”

  “Yes. Either the culprits were indeed common bandits and at their wits' end, choosing to hide in the forest to escape arrest, or else…The Tarachians chose to announce themselves on purpose. It could be that they want us to expect them.”

  “As a diversion? Or is it just overconfidence?”

  “That’s the question. It’s possible their goals are not what we expected. Or maybe they want us to spread ourselves thin and open a gap they can exploit. Maybe it’s to sow terror. Make us jump at shadows. We don't have enough clues right now. All we can do is keep our eyes open and be ready for if and when they make their next move.”

  “...”

  Maybe there was an enemy, maybe there wasn't. This wasn’t really news.

  Only then did I recall what the General said a moment earlier. There's that too.

  “…Was that not what you meant to tell me?”

  “Well. No.”

  “Is it about the intruder in August then? Come to think of it, did the CI investigators ever find out where the man was from?”

  “That case is already taken care of,” she said, to my surprise. “You don't have to worry about it anymore. Put it out of your mind.”

  For a moment, I could only stare, stunned to silence.

  “Just like that?”

  “Yes. That matter is finished.”

  Her vagueness and nonchalance about the subject began to freak me out, for real. It was her own estate they broke into, that man and whoever was behind him. Her authority and household being challenged. I thought she’d be angrier about it than anyone and turn half the town upside down looking for the ones responsible. But seems I thought wrong. Was that how little she cared about her staff and birth home?

  But her intonation made it clear I wasted my time asking about it.

  “... All right, then. Sounds like we both made a long trip for nothing today. My condolences.”

  I put my empty cup back on the saucer, pushed it away, and shifted my weight to stand. But the General's voice held me back.

  “Stay. There's one other thing.”

  She set her own cup down as well and faced me directly, drawing herself up. Hands at lap, back rigid and face stern. The gaze of her open eye narrowed and grim. I'd seen that look before. It was the look she wore when about to order a maneuver she couldn't agree with. But in the end, she would order it anyway, if the HQ and the Castle said so.

  “...I heard you made a friend last summer.”

  “…?”

  “Troyard, was it?”

  I couldn't tell what upset her so much about a topic so mundane.

  Wasn't I supposed to blend in? That meant getting to know many people and spending time with them.

  “That's rare,” she commented and as casual as the topic was, her tone was as hard as frozen dirt. “A friend close enough to bring home, even? You’re more acclimated to the civilian world than I thought.”

  “It was your sister who invited her over.”

  If you want to blame someone, blame Ms Asia.

  “My sister, yes…” she murmured. “Well. Be that as it may…”

  Her voice bitter, like drinking poison, General Ruthford declared,

  “9XA. This is an order——Cut your ties with Emily Troyard.”