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Shit happens, it’s how you deal with it that matters.
The door opens softly, and I don’t need to turn to know it’s Benedict. His presence is like something felt more than seen. He’s here now, quiet as ever, drifting across the carpet until he stands next to me, his eyes fixed on the same view that has me entranced.
We’re watching her world burn, and there is something profoundly beautiful about the plumes of smoke that billow through the twilight.
“What now?” he asks, gaze still fixed on the sight over the square.
“North-West has his orders.”
He waits a few seconds and then turns his head to stare at me. “This is too important to lie at the feet of a second-year.”
“He’s got this.”
“He’d better,” he grunts.
“Or?” I lay the challenge down, provoking him into saying what is on his mind.
He turns his whole body to face me, but I don’t give him the same respect. I don’t even look at him.
“Speaking as South Cardinal, if this goes sideways, North, I will be forced to place a vote of no confidence in you to the sect.”
A laugh escapes me, humourless and sharp as shattered glass. “But of course. I’d expect nothing less from you, South.”
“Good.” He’s all business, every inch the South Cardinal, the Earl of Cumberfold, ready to play his part. “Just making sure we understand each other.”
“Always.”
Benedict nods, the action sharp, a silent seal on our grim pact. We turn back to the window, two shadows cast long by the dying light, watching the disorder that grips KnightsGate like a vice.
“As your best friend, I seriously hope the faith you have in that kid isn’t going to fuck us over.”
“I told you before, he’s got this.”
“Stanley and the other two knobs,” Benedict’s voice cuts through the stillness as he suddenly changes the topic. “What’s the verdict?”
“Handled,” I murmur, my eyes not leaving the view. “Damien and I made sure they’re pissed and thus stupid.” The taste of violence lingers on my tongue, a bitter reminder of deeds best left in darkness.
“So they’ll come back for more?” There’s an edge to his question, a hint of steel beneath the calm.
“Yes. Stanley has an ego that won’t let this lie, and he doesn’t know when to drop shit. And that is exactly what I’m hoping for. If the rumours are true, we need to weed him out and then cut him down.”
Benedict exhales sharply, a sound like the hiss of a snake, and I know he’s taking in every bit of the chaos outside. “They’ll come at you harder now.”
“Yeah.” The truth is stark and straightforward. We both know it. “Let them come. We’re ready, and all I need is an excuse.”
We lapse into silence then, the only sound the distant cries that waft up from over the square. Benedict, Charles, Damien and I are four pieces on this chessboard, poised for the coming storm. We’ve played this game since we were kids, climbing through the ranks and being taught at our father’s feet.
This place isn’t just an elite University where royalty gain an education, it’s the black heart that beats for one purpose and one purpose only.
To further the sect’s cause.
An offshoot of the Knights Templar, KnightsGate has been twisted to defend its assets in whatever aspect that may include. As the centuries turn, so does the mission statement. Like sand, it shifts, it’s fluid.
Benedict moves next to me, restless. “We should prepare.”
“In a minute.” I can’t move just yet. Not until Iwatch every last wisp of smoke disappear into the darkening sky.
“Fair enough,” he says after a moment and steps back from the window.
