Loveless/ a POWERLESS fanfiction story

Chapter 32: Brian

He summons me immediately after I return to the palace. I barely have time to shower in the guards' quarters before a young guard delivers the order: report to the general.

Water still drips from my hair, and the shirt under my uniform jacket sticks uncomfortably to my back, but there's no time to waste. I hurriedly pull on a clean uniform, its fresh scent lasting only a moment as I race through the tiled corridors leading to the general's office.

Everything around me exudes cold severity: the towering walls adorned with tapestries bearing the crests of ancient houses, the carved doors that once seemed insurmountable to me just months ago. Now, I feel like part of this world, but every echoing step reminds me that it's an illusion. I am here because someone saw me as a tool, and I've proven myself useful.

Two Imperials stand stationed outside his door. I nod at them, and they open the way. The familiar, oppressive dimness greets me as I step inside. The general sits behind his massive wooden desk, his imposing figure silhouetted against the faint light from the thick drapes. His heavy gaze lands on me, and I straighten, projecting a confidence I'm not entirely sure I feel.

"Brian," his voice is deep, enveloping, like smoke. "Come in."

I take seven steps forward—the path well-trodden after years of service—and stop just before his desk. His dark, piercing eyes study me, dissecting every detail.

"You called for me, sir," I say, keeping my voice steady.

He nods, his expression unreadable.

"The first Trial is over," he begins, lacing his fingers together on the desk. "And do you know what I've been thinking?"

The silence stretches, growing heavy, suffocating. I feel it pressing down on me, but I refuse to let it show.

"What is that, sir?" I ask, holding his gaze.

"You stole food, forcing the Flashes to rush supplies to the Sights at camp," his lips curl slightly into a smirk. "Yes, I knew it was you right away."

I force my expression to remain neutral. He stands, moving to the window, his broad frame eclipsing the faint sunlight that manages to pierce the thick curtains.

"You killed a Sight," he continues, his voice lowering, making it all the more menacing. "You broke nearly every rule of the Purging Trials set by the king."

I don't lower my eyes.

"But my daughter returned alive and unharmed," the general states.

His gaze locks onto mine and I smile slightly.

"You know, Brian," he raises an eyebrow, "many of my guards lack your ability to follow orders. More than that," he pauses, letting the words linger, "I believe your talents deserve recognition."

I should feel triumphant, but instead, a wave of unease washes over me.

"You have an extraordinary ability to navigate any situation. And you're not afraid to take responsibility—or dirty your hands when necessary."

My stomach churns. I haven't eaten in hours, and the nausea threatens to overwhelm me. The general, however, doesn't stop.

"You know how to make choices, Brian. And choices are what separate the strong from the weak. That's why I've decided you need a position that will allow you to fully utilize your potential, to truly prove yourself in service to your king and this kingdom."

I know he's not talking about the position of guard commander even before he says the next words.

"You're going to become a spy, Brian. I should have done this long ago, considering your power. That's why I assigned you to my daughter—to test you. And now, sit," he nods toward the chair opposite his desk, where I've been standing this whole time, "and remember this—if even a word of what you're about to hear leaves this room, death will seem like a gift."