The door slammed shut behind the Purple Rank and his entourage, leaving the inn in a vacuum of stunned silence. The patrons sat frozen, some staring into their mugs, others glancing warily at one another. A barmaid, who had been mid-step, set her tray down with trembling hands. Slowly, conversations began to bubble back up, whispered and urgent, the storm outside a pale echo of the tension within.
Laira, still hidden behind the pillar, pressed her back to the wood, her thoughts a chaotic swirl. Her heart thundered in her chest as she pieced together what she'd just witnessed. The authority of the Purple Rank, the swift, unflinching execution order, and Marlis—her eyes sharp as a dagger in the midst of it all.
After a moment, she stepped out of the shadows, her boots scuffing against the floorboards as she approached the table in the corner. Marlis hadn't moved much; she was still leaning back in her chair, though her hand was no longer hovering near her sword hilt. Her gaze flicked to Laira as she approached, her expression unreadable.
"Did you… do that?" Laira asked, her voice barely above a whisper, yet trembling with an unspoken accusation.
Marlis snorted, her lips quirking into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Oh, it's you again." She gestured toward the chair opposite her with a lazy wave. "You've got a knack for showing up when things get interesting. Sit, if you're going to ask questions."
Laira hesitated, glancing around the room. Most of the other patrons had returned to their own business, but the air was still thick with unease. She pulled out the chair and sat down, her hands folded tightly in her lap.
"Well?" Marlis asked, arching a brow. "Get it out. Your question's written all over your face."
"Did you… turn him in?" Laira asked, leaning forward. Her voice carried a mix of awe and fear, and she struggled to meet Marlis's gaze. "The Orange Rank. Was that because of you?"
Marlis tilted her head, studying Laira with a look that felt too old for her youthful features. "Let me ask you something, little flame," she said. "Does it matter? Would it change anything for you, knowing whether or not I had a hand in it?"
Laira frowned, her brow furrowing. "It matters to me. I want to understand."
Marlis leaned back again, folding her arms over her chest. "All right. Fine. Yes, I had a hand in it. That bastard's been bleeding the southern provinces dry, and I made sure someone noticed. But don't go thinking this was about justice or honor." Her tone darkened, her eyes narrowing. "The Purple Rank wasn't here to fix the rot. He was here to prune it before it spread too far and made the crown look bad."
Laira blinked, taken aback by the bitterness in Marlis's voice. "But… the investigation? The stolen grain? Isn't that justice?"
"Justice," Marlis repeated, her voice dripping with derision. "You're cute, little flame. Naïve, but cute. Justice doesn't come into play when the crown's involved. This was about control. The higher ranks don't care about the people dying in the provinces. They care about keeping their ledgers clean and their seats comfortable."
Laira's stomach churned. "Then why did you help?"
Marlis shrugged. "Because it's not always about them. Sometimes, it's about making sure the right people suffer. Aber Korrik deserved what he got, and if I had to use the crown's machinery to make it happen, so be it."
The words hung between them, heavy and cold. Laira looked down at her hands, unsure what to say. Marlis leaned forward, her voice softening just slightly.
"Take this as your first lesson, White Rank," she said. "The world isn't fair. The ranks don't care about right or wrong—they care about survival. If you want to last, you need to figure out what matters to you and fight for it. Because no one else will."
Laira swallowed hard, her throat dry. "And you? What do you fight for?"
Marlis smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "Me? I fight for me. And sometimes, that's enough."
Laira sat up straighter, her eyes narrowing as she locked onto Marlis's guarded expression. She could feel her heart still pounding from the scene earlier, but this time, it wasn't fear driving her. It was something else—determination.
"Stop with the tsundere act," Laira said, her voice sharper than she expected. She leaned forward, her hands gripping the edge of the table. "Clearly, you care about the people. Otherwise, you wouldn't have gone over an Orange Rank's head to get other ranks involved."
Marlis's smirk faltered for a fraction of a second, the mask slipping just enough for Laira to catch a glimpse of something more vulnerable underneath. Then, just as quickly, the Peach Rank rolled her eyes and leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest.
"You've got some nerve," Marlis said, though her voice lacked its usual venom. "You're barely out of training, and you think you've got me all figured out? Cute."
Laira didn't back down. "I don't have you figured out, but I know what I saw. You didn't just report him for stealing grain—you knew what would happen when you sent that report. You knew the Purple Rank would come down hard, and you still did it. Why? If you only cared about yourself, you would've just walked away. So don't sit there and act like this was all just some self-serving move."
Marlis stared at her, the corner of her mouth twitching as if she was fighting back a retort. For a moment, the room felt heavy with silence, the noise of the other patrons fading into the background. Then, with a sigh that sounded more tired than annoyed, Marlis rubbed the back of her neck and looked away.
"You're persistent, I'll give you that," she muttered. She picked up her empty mug, turning it idly in her hands before setting it down with a clink. "Fine. You want to know why I did it? Because someone had to. The southern provinces have been starving for months. Kids dying in the streets while nobles like Aber are lining their pockets with blood money. I couldn't just sit back and watch anymore."
Laira's gaze softened. "Then why hide it? Why act like you don't care?"
Marlis gave a dry laugh, though it carried no joy. "Because caring gets you killed, little flame. The higher you climb, the more people will try to rip you down for it. You think those Green Ranks earlier were just here to chat? No. They were here to warn me off because the rot runs deeper than one Orange Rank. If I make too much noise, I won't just lose my rank—I'll lose my life. And for what? A system that's broken from the top down?"
"But you still did it," Laira said softly. "Because you care."
Marlis glanced at her, her expression unreadable. For a moment, Laira thought she might snap back with another quip, but instead, she let out another sigh and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table.
"Maybe I do," Marlis admitted, her voice low. "But don't go thinking it's noble. It's not about being a hero, Laira. It's about looking at yourself in the mirror and knowing you did something that mattered—even if it cost you."
Laira felt a lump rise in her throat, but she swallowed it down. "I think that makes you braver than you realize."
Marlis snorted, though her lips curved into a faint, reluctant smile. "Brave or stupid. Usually, there's not much difference." She met Laira's gaze, her eyes flickering with something that almost resembled respect. "Keep that fire of yours, White Rank. You're going to need it."
Laira leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table. Her curiosity was burning brighter than ever, her mind racing with possibilities. "Okay, but how did you do it? A while ago, you made it sound like we're powerless against the higher ranks, and yet…" She hesitated, searching Marlis's face for a crack in her defenses. "Do you have connections with the higher ranks?"
Marlis tilted her head slightly, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "You're sharper than you look," she said, tracing a finger along the edge of her empty mug. "Yeah, I've got connections. You don't survive as a Peach without making a few friends—or at least useful acquaintances—up the chain. It's the only way to get anything done when the system is this stacked against you."
Laira's eyes widened slightly. "So, you knew the Purple Rank? You called in a favor?"
Marlis let out a low laugh, though there was no real humor in it. "Not exactly. I sent word through the channels I do have, but I didn't expect him to show up." She glanced toward the door, where the crown's enforcers had exited. "Much less to hand down a death penalty. That part…" Her expression darkened, her gaze dropping to the table. "That part wasn't supposed to happen."
Laira frowned, leaning closer. "You mean you didn't know they'd execute him?"
"Of course not," Marlis snapped, then softened her tone when she saw Laira flinch. "Look, I knew they'd come down hard. Aber had been playing with fire for years—embezzling resources, exploiting the lower ranks—but I figured they'd strip his title, maybe send him to a mining outpost or something equally unpleasant. A public arrest, followed by a death penalty?" She shook her head, her brow furrowing. "That wasn't just punishment. That was a message."
"A message to who?" Laira asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I don't know, maybe to everyone," Marlis said, her tone grim. "The lower ranks, the higher ranks, anyone who's been sticking their nose where it doesn't belong. But…" She hesitated, her eyes narrowing as she stared into the middle distance. "It makes me think there's something else going on. Something bigger."
Laira's stomach tightened. "Like what?"
Marlis shrugged, though her movements were tense, controlled. "I don't know yet. But the crown doesn't just send a Purple to deal with a single Orange unless there's more at stake. And that scroll he carried? Marked with the crown's insignia?" She tapped the table with a finger for emphasis. "That wasn't a routine order. Someone high up wanted this handled quickly and very, very publicly."
Laira sat back, her thoughts swirling. She didn't know much about the inner workings of the higher ranks, but something about Marlis's words struck a chord. The idea of something larger, something hidden, made her feel small and vulnerable in a way she hadn't anticipated.
"What do we do now?" she asked, her voice hesitant.
Marlis's lips pressed into a thin line. "We keep our heads down. For now, anyway. I'll dig around, see what I can find, but you—" She fixed Laira with a pointed look. "You've got enough on your plate just surviving as a White Rank. Don't go sticking your neck out for something you don't understand yet."
Laira nodded slowly, though her gut told her she couldn't just let it go. "Okay. But if you need help—"
"I'll let you know," Marlis interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. "For now, little flame, stay close to the shadows. You might not like what you find in the light."
Marlis leaned back in her chair, her eyes darting toward the door as if expecting the guards to burst back in at any moment. She drummed her fingers on the table, her expression tight with thought. "Aber was scum, no doubt about it. But scum like him usually gets swept under the rug, not dragged out into the streets and burned for all to see." Her voice was low, meant for Laira alone. "There's something bigger behind this, something they're not telling us."
Laira frowned, leaning closer. "What do you mean? You think his crimes weren't the real reason for his execution?"
Marlis gave a bitter laugh. "Oh, his crimes were real enough. The stolen grain, the fake taxes, the extortion? Classic Orange Rank greed. But let's not kid ourselves, little flame. The crown doesn't care about starving farmers or dead children. If they cared, they'd have stepped in months ago, before the provinces were on the brink of collapse."
Laira furrowed her brow. "Then why act now? Why make such a public example of him?"
Marlis paused, her gaze sharpening. "Timing. This wasn't about justice—it was about sending a message. But who that message was for? That's the question." She glanced around the room, her voice dropping even lower. "Think about it. Aber wasn't the only one bleeding the provinces dry. Half the Reds and Oranges are doing the same thing, and the other half are too busy looking the other way. But he's the one who got singled out. Why?"
Laira tilted her head, thinking. "Maybe someone wanted him out of the way?"
"Exactly," Marlis said, pointing a finger at her. "But not just anyone. Someone high enough to call in a Purple Rank and slap the crown's seal on a death order. That kind of pull doesn't come from a petty grudge. No, this is political—power being shifted, pieces being moved on a board we can't even see."
Laira shivered. "But why Aber? Was he a threat?"
Marlis tapped her chin, her eyes narrowing. "Could be. Maybe he got too greedy, drew too much attention to himself. Or maybe he knew something he wasn't supposed to. Either way, his death wasn't about punishment—it was about silencing him. And whoever gave the order wanted everyone to see it."
Laira swallowed hard, the weight of Marlis's words pressing down on her. "Do you think it's connected to… the investigation? The missing grain?"
Marlis's eyes flicked to her, sharp as a knife. "Maybe. Or maybe the grain is just a convenient excuse. If I had to guess, this goes deeper than a few stolen shipments. We're talking about something that threatens the balance of power—something big enough to make the crown nervous."
Laira felt a chill run down her spine. "But if that's true… what does it mean for us?"
Marlis leaned forward, her voice hard. "It means we're walking on a knife's edge, little flame. If you're smart, you'll keep your head down and your mouth shut. People like us? We're pawns at best, collateral damage at worst. And if we get caught up in whatever game this is, we won't live long enough to regret it."
Laira's throat tightened, but she nodded. "And you? What are you going to do?"
Marlis smirked, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Me? I'll keep digging. But not because I'm some bleeding heart. If this is as big as I think it is, it's only a matter of time before it spills over into the lower ranks. And when it does, I'd rather know what I'm dealing with."
Her gaze turned distant, her tone softening. "Aber's death wasn't justice. It was a warning. The only question is, to who—and why."