Of course, it wasn’t as easy as just signing a document. First, it was going to need to be submitted if we wanted the Order to be ratified and official.

  And there was only one person who could do that now.

  No way was I going to try and petition the High Assembly. Even though I had the right to request a meeting before them as a Knight, such a thing had to be scheduled months in advance. Otherwise, there was no way a request could be seen to in a timely manner.

  So, I went to see Wenzel, the Lord Regent of Herztal himself.

  Honestly, with Isolde in tow, it wasn’t exactly hard to see the man. It was only a few hours after we had settled everything, and while Tarus had set, I did not doubt that the man was still working deep into the late hours. The guards on the upper layer pretty much waved us in immediately on sight. However, I was a bit…irritated at the reception I got from the Regent himself.

  Wenzel von Steinmark glanced briefly over the signed charter I had carefully rolled out onto his sparsely decorated, frankly dour-looking desk. “Approved,” He muttered, reaching for a nearby burning candle. The dimly flickering light was barely enough to make out the sparsely decorated office the Regent Lord had chosen as his personal office. The only furniture in here was his desk, his chair, and a few overstuffed bookcases, packed to the ceiling with neatly organized scrolls. This particular room was deep into the monument of Kyronkar and didn’t even have any windows. The result was an extremely dim room in which you had to stand in front of his desk awkwardly, while the owner worked in silence and darkness. Odd, but I’d seen weirder from Classers. I didn’t know much about Wenzel’s build, but he had to either be heavily invested in Perception or have some kind of vision Skill or Talent to prefer working in conditions like this.

  Almost carelessly, Wenzel dribbled a good-sized glob of the black wax onto the lower section of the scroll and then pressed into it with a large signet ring on his right hand. When he withdrew it, imprinted onto the wax was an impression of a rearing horse over a kite shield. Wenzel then picked up a nearby dip pen with a, you guessed it, black feather attached to it, and signed his name just underneath the seal.

  I don’t think he had actually read the charter that I and my new prospective Ordermates had so carefully devised. It had taken us hours to carefully list out, in writing, what we hoped to accomplish with the formation of the Polaris Reach.

  My eyebrow twitched at the disregard. Isolde stifled a snicker and just smirked at me when I shot my new comrade a dirty look.

  I sighed. “Can you at least, you know?” I said, gesturing leadingly. “Actually read it?”

  “No need,” Wenzel replied, not looking up from the document he had replaced our charter with. It was hard to see the man’s face through the curtain of long and unbound, inky black hair that obscured it. “I was already aware of your intentions to form this Order, and I have confidence in yours and Isolde’s moral fortitude. I’m certain there is nothing amiss upon it.”

  “Oh really?” I muttered, shooting Isolde another look. “You already knew, eh? I wonder just who could have told you about that.”

  Isolde just shrugged at me, entirely unrepentant. “Hey, he’s family. Plus, you know. Our sovereign ruler.”

  “For now,” Wenzel murmured absentmindedly, unrolling another scroll.

  I was feeling distinctly cornered by these two, right about now. “Is that so? You’re not even interested in the horse glue business we’re going to start?”

  Wenzel’s pen stilled, and he finally looked up from his work to stare at me. I had to fight back a sudden laugh at the absolutely, totally baffled look the man shot me. “Truly?”

  “No, Wenzel,” Isolde half-sighed, half-chuckled. She shook her head at her cousin. “He’s just having you on.”

  This time, the stare the Regent shot me was distinctly unimpressed. “Ah. I see. Humor. Very well, if you’ll stoop that low, I shall read the charter.”

  Isolde and I stood in silence for a few minutes while Wenzel pulled the scroll back in front of him and gave it a more thorough inspection. A small, puzzled frown stole over his face as he read, and I saw his brow furrow. “This is…” He said slowly, flicking his eyes up to regard Isolde and me carefully. “Nonstandard, shall we say.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “That’s the point.”

  “Let’s be honest, cousin,” Isolde hopped up to see on the edge of the desk, uncaring about the displeased look Wenzel shot her as she did. “There are enough monster chasers out there right now that we don’t need another major Order, dedicated solely to collecting Cores. Sure, we’re going to have a good amount of them, and we fully intend to do our part in culling the hordes.”

  “But it’s not our focus,” I continued. “There are other problems in Herztalian society we want to focus on.”

  Wenzel nodded slowly and then glanced back down at the charter. “Four divisions,” He read. “The Classers, who shall be led by Captain Alexander Garrack. The Crafters, led by Captain Azarus of…House Tarus? What?” Wenzel blinked, looking back up at us. “Your Dwarven companion is claiming to belong to the sun?”

  So, Wenzel didn't know everything.

  Good to know. It seems like Azarus’s status as Tarus’s Envoy hadn’t filtered its way to the man. Strange, considering he had been outright introduced to the Kawamaran court that way. Perhaps the River Throne was keeping it on the down low?

  Shurenga might just have something to do with that.

  Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

  “That’s his business,” I shrugged. “Besides, he’s only going to head the Crafters for a short while, just as we get set up. Azarus has his own business to see to. He’s fine with being a member, but he doesn’t want to lead for very long.”

  “As you say…” Wenzel said, eyeing me strangely. He shook his head and continued. “The Healers, to be led by Captain Renauld of the People?!”

  I was completely taken aback by the outright shock Wenzel was displaying, just reading that name. I’d never seen the normally unflappable man, so, well. Flapped, I suppose. It was completely out of character for the Regent. I noticed that Isolde was looking a bit baffled by her cousin’s reaction as well, shooting me a quick look of questioning. I could only shrug, because I had no clue.

  Why Renauld of all people? What did the leader of a nation care for one Gnollish Academy Healer?

  So, I asked him.

  “Is there…something wrong about that?”

  Wenzel fixed me with a disbelieving look, switching it over to Isolde after a moment. “That’s right, you wouldn’t have been told, would you?” He said to her, shaking his head. “And he hasn’t told you, I see, Hart. It’s…not my place to do so either.” Wenzel sighed. “Some…oaths, that come with the office forbid me from doing so, and I mean that quite literally. The only wiggle room I am allowed is to say that…you should speak to your Captain about his…” He seemed to struggle for a moment. “Origins.”

  What? Renauld was just another member of the Throng, to the best of my knowledge. He’d struck out on his own over the vaguely implied protests of his parents, so he could attend the Academy as a Healer.

  What wasn’t he telling me?

  I…was realizing for the first time, just how little I knew about the Gnoll's past. He was always a bit cagey when it came up in conversation.

  “Well,” Wenzel said, after a moment of awkward silence. He cleared his throat and looked back down at the charter. “And the fourth division is the Stewards, it seems. Whose duties seem…broad, to say the least. Outreach, merchantile endeavors, charitable work, and more. This seems like a great deal to place on the shoulders of one Captain Maria Rellani.”

  “It would be,” I acknowledged with a faint smile. “If the Stewards weren’t intended to be twice the size of every other Division. She’ll have the most support out of all the Captains.”

  Probably more than me, even.

  An Order meant to help people, and not to fight them.

  Wenzel eyed me consideringly for a moment. “And there isn’t intended to be a, perhaps…secret division, in the vein of your previous occupations?”

  Isolde and I exchanged a look then. There had been some…arguments in favor of perhaps founding such a thing. Neither of us had even brought the possibility up. It had actually been Liora who had broached the topic. Isolde had been vehemently opposed to such an idea, while I had played the mediator between the two as the conversation had gotten a tad heated. Ultimately, Liora had surrendered when I had eventually put my foot down.

  I was extremely opposed to the idea of a secret police, after everything I had experienced. Let the governments and other Orders play in the espionage game. I wanted no more part in it. This was meant to be an organization that elevated people, not cut them down. The farthest I was willing to go was a scouting squad within the Classer division, because that just made sense when dealing with monsters.

  But no more assassins. That was antithetical to what this Order was to be founded on.

  “No,” I said firmly. “Isolde and I are uninterested in such a thing.”

  Wenzel eyed me for a moment and then nodded slowly. “Understood. And you shall lead this Order?”

  “Yes, I’ll be taking the post of Grand Marshall, and Isolde will be my second in command,” I confirmed.

  Look, there was no conceivable way I was going to go through all this trouble setting up an entire organization only to accept a lesser position. This entire project had been started because of my pride in thinking I could do things better, rather than just handing things off to Grey.

  I was a bit offended when both Wenzel and Isolde chuckled at my announcement.

  At my look, Isolde waved me off. “Sorry, Hart. I should have explained things better. You…aren’t going to be a Grand Marshall. That’s more of a ceremonial title that Greycton and Shacklock earned. You have to accomplish a very specific task for our Order to be granted that honor. All other Martial Orders are headed by Marshalls. The established rank for me will be ‘Commander’, and you’ll be the Marshall.”

  “Which leads neatly into my next point,” Wenzel steepled his fingers in front of his face. “All that’s left is to announce the formation of your,” He looked down briefly. “Order of the Polaris Reach. No doubt you’re eager to begin recruitment for your…goals. However…”

  “However?”

  “I have a…request. As busy as you were in formalizing this charter earlier, I’m unsure if you will have heard yet. The Primector has arrived in the city and is currently being hosted here in Kyronkar.”

  My eyebrows shot up at that. “No, I hadn’t heard that.”

  “I thought not,” Wenzel inclined his head. “Primector Aurelius arrived quietly via ship, and did not request a parade to announce his visit. I welcomed him earlier, and my understanding is that he wishes to conduct his business here soon. Thus, I have elected to accelerate matters in regards to the welcoming Ball for his arrival. It will be tomorrow.”

  Ah. I see.

  “Well, of course we’ll be there. Right, Isolde?”

  At my question, my second nodded. “For more than one reason, I’m guessing,” She muttered.

  I didn’t get a chance to look at her quizzically for more than a second before Wenzel continued.

  “My request has to do with your announcement. The Crown would…appreciate it, if you allowed it to be held at the Ball, instead of done on your own recognizance.”

  I eyed the dark-haired man for a moment. “Are you looking for us to align with the Crown more closely?”

  To my surprise, Wenzel winced. “Not…especially. With Isolde as your second, you are already perhaps too closely aligned with the Throne. You will inevitably face accusations of nepotism if both of us do not step carefully. This is not a formal request, more of a personal one. The formation of a new Martial Order partially founded by a member of the royal house is not a common occurrence. Thus, I would appreciate it if you allowed for the occasion to be celebrated.”

  “Oh, I see,” I nodded. “Announce the founding of a new major Order in front of the world and the Church at the ball, then let word filter out among the people.”

  “You might even find more people willing to help fund your efforts,” Wenzel said leadingly.

  I snorted but nodded again. “I’m fine with it, you don’t have to butter me up. It’s not like you’re asking us to wait for a long time. Isolde?”

  My ‘Commander’ nodded wordlessly, seemingly content to let me handle this.

  “It’s settled then,” Wenzel smiled slightly, a hint of triumph on his lips. “The ball shall be held tomorrow evening. Now, I imagine we all need to see to our own preparations. Good night, Marshall, Commander.”

  I could understand a hint when it was handed to me. I bowed slightly. “Good night, Regent. I shall see you tomorrow.”

  With that, Isolde and I left the current ruler of Herztal’s office. We split up from there, considering my Commander actually lived here. As I left the monolith that was Kyronkar, I felt a measure of…anxiety settle on my shoulders. It wasn’t anything to do with my new Order, though. If anything, I felt nothing but anticipation to get started on the mountain work in front of me, if I wanted to get that off the ground before Bleddyn started shipping people by the hundreds.

  No, if I had to attend a ball tomorrow, then I was going to need a date for it.

  Which meant taking a risk. It was time to step over the thin, fragile line I’d established with Sylvia.

  Hopefully, I didn’t tank our friendship in the process.