“Of course,” I say, running a hand through my hair and over my set jaw. The action doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Kai.” He looks at me, almost gently. I haven’t seen that look since I was a boy, and even then, it was a rarity reserved for the few times I pleased him during my training. “No one envies the job of the Enforcer. It’s brutal. It’s bloody. But the Plague has given you a rare gift. Your ability as a Wielder is very powerful, and you’ll serve this kingdom well one day.” He pauses before adding, “I’ve made sure of that.”
He has indeed.
Training has been my whole life, my whole purpose. Rather than having a single ability to manifest and master, I’ve spent years learning how to control dozens. But I honed my body as much as my abilities, becoming a weapon myself. How to use and kill with every weapon at my disposal has been ingrained into my brain—a reflex I have refined.
But I can’t take all the credit. No, it’s the king who made me what I am today. The king who took it upon himself to aid in both my physical and mental training. After learning my weaknesses, he ensured they were eradicated. And while I’ve learned to block out most memories of the training I endured as a boy, I can do nothing to ignore the image of my father’s cool face paired with the same chilling words I’ve heard all my life.
“If you cannot endure suffering, you are unfit to dole it out, Enforcer.”
I’ve fought in battles, initiated interrogations, and conducted torture all while Kitt sat in on countless meetings, devised treaties, and spent his days beside a kinder king than the one I know.
His days consisted of education, tutoring, and far more pleasant time spent with the father he loves so much. As the heir, Kitt’s always been guarded, protected, and even getting him out into the training yard with me when we were boys was no small feat.
When I look back at the king, his green eyes are already pinned on me. Kitt’s eyes. After Father’s first wife died while giving birth to his son, he married the daughter of a trusted adviser. Unsurprisingly, he quickly fell in love with my mother’s caring and kindness, her bravery and beauty. I look like her, with my dark hair and light eyes, just as Kitt takes after Father, both green-eyed and blond.
I clear my head, tucking thoughts of the past away until the next time allow myself to dwell on them again. My voice is dull when I finally ask, “When do I leave?”
Those exact words poke at a memory, reminding me how na?ve I was when I asked them before my very first mission. Not knowing that I would become a murderer that day. Not knowing I would watch a man crumple to the floor in a pool of his own blood.
“At dawn.”
Dawn came far too early for my liking, and before I know it, I’m making my way to the stables.
The large, white barn casts an even larger shadow in the early morning sunlight. Each wall is lined with stalls where the horses nibble on hay, looking up at me curiously.
My gaze slides over the two Imperials standing to my left, accompanied by three horses saddled for the journey ahead of us. I grit my teeth. The king pulled two guards from the rotation on Loot Alley as a safety precaution, though I’m more than capable of handling this on my own. But it seems that in a single night, Father has suddenly grown to care for my well-being. It’s only taken nineteen years and the fact that I am now valuable to him.
I shake my head and mount the horse closest to me, swallowing my pride enough to admit that it’s wise for Imperials to be with me in the case of a banishing.
The trip to Loot is a long one, and we pass the time in utter silence. Streets slowly turn to slums as we head further into the city, and I could smell the large market alley before reaching it.
The familiar scent of fish, smoke, and other mysteries welcome me as we head onto Loot. The echo of our horses’ hooves clopping down the uneven cobblestones bounces off the walls of rundown shops lining the street. A few early risers dart out of the way, making room for us as they point and whisper.
We turn left down a smaller street jutting off the main alley and head for a small, wooden shack. I hop off my horse without hesitation and stuff the reigns into the gloved hand of an Imperial, letting him deal with securing the animal.
If they must be here, they might as well be useful to me.
I stride to the door, slipping a hand from of my pocket to knock. I hear a thud from inside, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps before the door swings open, creaking on its rusty hinges.
A huge, burly man with a thick beard and even thicker hair stares at the scene before him. I’m surprised he can fit through the doorframe. His blue eyes widen under his bushy brows as he looks between myself and the two Imperials now flanking me.
“Prince Kai…？” The man looks astonished and flustered all at once. “Hi, er, what an honor!” His falsely cheery voice carries down the street, likely waking his neighbors as he reaches out to offer a handshake.
His grasp is firm and calloused, much like my own. “Nathan, correct?” He nods, and I continue, “I had a few questions to ask you about an Ordinary found here in Loot. I’m sure that’s not a problem.” I watch him closely, searching for any indication that he knows what I’m talking about. Nothing. His face remains utterly expressionless. “Mind if we come in?” It’s not a question and he knows it. I already have my foot over the threshold before he steps away from the door.
The house is no bigger than my bedroom back at the palace. On one side of the room, small beds are pushed together and lined crookedly against the wall. The kitchen resides on the other half of the room, equipped with a rundown sink, a chipped wooden counter, and a large table surrounded with two wide-eyed boys and a woman. A large, faded rug joins the two sides of the room, the only decoration and splotch of color in the house.
Nathan clears his throat. “This is my wife, Layla.” She smiles warmly, her white teeth contrasting against her dark skin as she eyes the Imperials shifting on their feet behind me.
“And these are our boys, Marcus and Cal.” Nathan points at each of his children, naming them off. Marcus keeps his eyes pinned to the table, not daring to look at me while his younger brother, Cal, is far too curious to keep his eyes from darting to mine.
I reach out with my power, making sure none of them are the Ordinary hiding in plain sight. My Wielder ability is especially helpful as the Enforcer, making my job far easier and far more efficient.
Nathan is a Brawny, and I’m not the least bit surprised, seeing that he’s a mountain of a man. I can feel Layla’s power as a Healer bubbling in my blood like champagne while Marcus and Cal both possess Mundane powers—Marcus with the lie detecting ability of a Bluff, and Cal as an Enhancer with his heightened senses.
“You know why I’m here,” I say coolly. “Have you seen or heard anything about an Ordinary hiding around here?”
“No, sir, we haven’t.” It’s Layla who says this, her soft voice steady.
My eyes sweep over the house again, stopping on the sink. Bowls still sticky with porridge are piled within it, waiting to be cleaned.
Five.
Five bowls when there are only four mouths to feed.
Interesting.
“Well, then you won’t mind if I take a look around?”