The Rogue Guardian

Chapter 56: The Small Pieces

Look, I don't know what this chapter is, there were just some bits and pieces that felt like they needed to be written but weren't long enough to be full chapters on their own so here we are

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Once, Ysmay had been a lawyer. She had worked for nobles and rich merchants and she had learned to scrutinize details, to pay attention to the little things. But now she was a leader, and her job was to manage the big picture. She had to account for and incorporate every moving piece into a play whose stage was the whole kingdom.

So when she was informed that her niece had been captured, she could do nothing but bow her head and pray quietly and agree that Morane Laerhart would go after the captives. The lawyer in her was furious and armed with the razor-sharp derision that had made her a terror in the Noble Courts. But the leader she had to exhibit on the outside was detached from the tragedy that might happen, coolly pleased that Roman had honored the alliance so quickly, and unable to worry in front of the people who followed her orders.

So this was what it was like to be a ruler, Ysmay had marveled years before. But she corrected herself now. This was what it was like to fight a ruler.

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Nemia fled the training yards full of anxiety. She'd known Irina had been using her considerable influence to get her out of scattered days of training, but to be told she was to take a three-day break-- she didn't know if she was scared or elated. Surely Irina hadn't been able to get away with that. What had she done? Bribed her teachers? Nemia was sure the trainers feared the Sage too much to agree.

But the Sage would never have ordered this himself. Something had been done. Nemia was so tired of... of... things being done. It seemed that every day she woke up surprised that the world hadn't yet exhausted itself into standing still.

So she went to the library. She knew that wherever she went Irina would come to find her, but the library felt safest. She dodged every servant on the way, giving no messenger Irina might have sent the opportunity to speak. Where she could, she took the passages in the walls. She was still small and skinny enough to fit where Morie hadn't been able to for years. And once in the library she tucked herself into the coziest out-of-the-way nook with a teetering pile of books and an over-sized cushion.

Somehow she fell asleep.

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Several hours from Maenar, the Perival delivery boat was tied to the foggy bank of the Mitrove on the edge of the forest, and the five captured rebels were led off it. Their hands were tied only with rope but they were closely watched. Waiting for them, bobbing in the river like a vulture with folded wings, was another royal vessel. This one was for transporting prisoners.

One man grabbed Evvie's arm roughly, pulling her from the group. She made no sound. There was no emotion in her face or in her stony gray eyes, but anyone who knew her aunt would have backed away from that look. The contingent of guards who had waded from the prison boat to the shore to help with transport shivered with the coldness Ysmay had famously brought to the Noble Courts and which was Evvie's only outward sign of her fear.

"That's unnatural," one muttered, to break the silence, but his voice was lost in a sudden scuffle.

Liz had automatically stepped forward when Evvie did and there were immediately two different swords pointed at her and holding her in place.

"Stay put," the oldest guard in the contingent ordered.

Liz spat, her admirable aim landing on his shoulder.

His blade moved too quickly to see, appearing dangerously close to her throat.

"You have two choices," he growled. "Dying or living. Don't make me choose for you."