“My army surrendered!?” Namen slammed his fist against his throne, the wood shuddering beneath the blow, and snarled. “What did my cowardly force do after they laid down their weapons to these rebels?”

The messenger’s hands trembled behind his back as his stoic face locked onto the King’s ornate chair. He bowed, spreading his arms like a bird in flight. “I wasn’t there to witness the results, sire. I carried only the message I was dispatched with. Do you want me to discover the fallout of the surrender?”

“No, there’s nothing you can accomplish,” the King grumbled as he crumpled the missive in his fist. He flung the wadded paper at the messenger’s face. “Kameron will locate these traitors!”

The messenger ducked the parchment projectile, while an advisor sitting close to the King interlaced her fingers and cleared her throat. “Your Majesty, I believe it would be best to collect any information that Baxter has before deciding on how to deal with these deserters. Consider the cost of dispatching another battalion to a captured keep.”

The King’s eyes narrowed as his lips trembled. He lifted his fingers from the ornately inlaid armrest of his throne, glancing toward the ceiling, as if the spymaster could overhear him. “Baxter is troublesome enough during peaceful times. But when it comes to war, his riddles are unbearable.”

“Baxter is unique.” The advisor smiled and leaned toward the King. “But he’s the best spymaster we’ve ever had.”

“I’m aware, Kerri!” Namen struck his chair with both meaty fists. “But I won’t deal with him if he’s communicating with his spies. Go discover everything he’s learned about these rebels and traitors.”

Kerri rose, inclining her head, and flowed across the floor. She grabbed the messenger’s arm and guided him from the meeting hall. When the door closed, she spun the fool around and slapped his face. “Why did you deliver that message straight to Namen?”

“It’s my job. Last I checked, you’re just an advisor, with no authority.” The messenger’s gaze sharpened to a knife’s edge as his fingers explored his reddening cheek. After a moment, he shoved his hands behind his back. “How would Namen react if he learned you struck one of his messengers? I believe he’s ordered protection for those carrying his commands.”

“True,” Kerri flicked the messenger’s nose as her lips parted, displaying her canines. She thumped his chest with two fingers. “Unfortunately for you, Namen never gave you the protection of a command. Never forget who your friends are, messenger.”

Kerri spun on her heels and stormed down the hall. When she reached the nearest stairwell, she sighed and flew up the stairs.

Upon reaching the door to the roof, she flung it open and stared at the man standing on the ledge, obscured by flapping butterflies, wings etched with heavy secrets, their markings whispering burdens. One landed atop an outstretched fingertip. He pulled it to his ear. She cleared her throat and marched toward him. “Baxter, I need your counsel...