30. Chapter Thirty

Hans looked deeply uncomfortable as he stepped into my office, unannounced and unexpected.

“Hey boss?”

“Yeah?” I asked, glancing up over the stack of paperwork I’d been brute forcing my way through.

When I’d been offered the position of Scouting amp; Reconnaissance Captain last year, Hanjae had failed to mention how much godsdamned paperwork was involved. And Hans was approaching with even more in hand. Lovely.

“You’re going to want to read this one first,” he said quietly, handing me a scroll.

Ah, fuck.

The scroll in his hand bore the official seal of the House of Torrents—a missive from Lord Ymir in Samhaven.

“Another one?”

“Yes, sir,” Hans replied, his voice particularly morose as he handed off the missive. I quickly scanned over the message.

Young boy, age 8… Taken in broad daylight… No leads… Relative of an attending student… Formally requesting support from the Elder Guard, as the young woman may be another, future target… Earth Conduit, first year… Family Name: Ansari.

“Shit,” I hissed, dropping the parchment as if the letter had been penned in acid instead of ink.

I understood now why Hans seemed so upset—he knew as well as I did that Arken was close to Laurel. The young spitfire had befriended her right around the same time that she and I met, and though Arken often lamented the lack of time they were able to spend together, Laurel had come around on more than one occasion to hang out with Arken, myself, and my lieutenants at the tavern.

Hans and Laurel had always gotten along well. They had similar senses of humor. If Laurel wasn’t so obviously sapphic, I was fairly certain that my lieutenant would have made a move by now.

And the latest lost child—no, the latest stolen child was… Laurel’s little brother.

Fucking Hel.

Nausea rolled around in my gut, oily and thick. What could I even say to them? To either of them?

By now, I was certain there would be whisperings amongst the noblesse, hushed concerns spreading as high ranking families started noticing a pattern. Our alliances between territories had done our best to quell too many rumors and avoid a mass panic, but that only went so far. Still, I was under direct orders to keep everything I knew about this situation under lock and key.

“This says the child has been missing for several weeks,” I croaked. “Do we know if… Does she know?”

I hadn’t seen much of Laurel this month, but it was odd that Arken hadn’t brought this up. The woman respected my boundaries, and had the patience of a saint, but…

Hans ran one hand over his face for a moment in exasperation and then nodded.

“Yeah. About that. They told her today.”

“The fuck?”

That didn’t make any godsdamned sense. Hans winced at what had to be a dumbstruck expression on my face, and continued to explain.

“Apparently, her parents were so wrapped up in the initial investigations that they just… completely failed to communicate with her. Failed to communicate with anyone, really.”

What a shitty excuse.

“It wasn’t until the Samhaven forces recommended a bodyguard for each remaining sibling that the Ansaris seemed to even recall that they had more than one kid at risk,” Hans continued. “And now I guess Lord Ymir himself has petitioned to see if we could assign one of our men to the job for Laurel, since the Novosi Guard has already offered that for her sister, Lakshmi, while she studies abroad.”

The Novosi Guard had less to lose, though, offering their services like that. They had an entirely different system of government up there.

“Did we accept?”

“Hanjae’s running it up through Demitrovic. The Ansari family offered loads of Lyra in compensation, which complicates things even if we were to deny the funds. They’re trying to sort through the optics before we make an official decision.”

Right. Of course.

“We’ll keep an eye on her regardless,” I murmured, mostly to myself—but Hans still nodded solemnly.

This was going to get real complicated, real fucking fast. If the other Houses caught wind of even the implication that the Elder Guard was accepting funds from the Samhaven noblesse to keep one of their most wealthy families safe, that was the beginning of a political shitstorm. The Elders would withdraw our involvement in these investigations so godsdamned fast—leaving the Atlassian Courts to fend for themselves.

As much as I would love to watch a bunch of greedy politicians flop and flounder while trying to solve their own problems—problems that were a direct consequence of their own actions, mind you—I still couldn’t stomach that. Not when children’s lives were on the line.

I mean, Fates above, Amir was only eight.

“Make sure that if we do monitor Ansari in the meantime, though, Hans—that we keep it very much under the table. I don’t even want to involve the commander right now.”

“I doubt Hanjae would be opposed,” Hans replied. “It’s not like it would take much effort on our end.”

“No, but plausible deniability could work in his favor if shit goes south with the Houses. Don’t involve the rest of the cadre, either. I just want you, Jer, and myself on this one. We’ll keep our ears to the ground. Sophrosyne is safer than Yvestra regardless, and I doubt anyone will be stupid enough to strike right under the noses of the Aetherborne.”

“Godsdamn right,” Hans agreed.

“Do you mind briefing Jeremiah on this? He should be running patrols tonight,” I said, running a hand through my hair.

“Can do. I take it you won’t be joining us for lunch later, then?”

“Not today,” I replied. “I’ve got plans with Arken.”

Hans snorted audibly, and opened his mouth to make some smartass remark—but it immediately snapped closed when he saw my darkening expression. A rare show of tact from the impulsive, mouthy bastard.

“Get back to work, asshole,” I muttered.

“Aye, Captain.”