“Wilfred, I need you to promise me something.”

            “I don’t know, Jupiter, I’ve made you a lot of promises.” Wilfred said good-naturedly, taking a sip of his coffee. The night was cool and clear, the warmth of early summer thickening the air. The stars shone brightly above. The fields were growing green and bright, and the High Bleaks had been quiet all summer.

            “This is different.”

Wilfred turned. Jupiter looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. He was pacing, a sure-fire sign that something was bothering him.

“Everything is about to change.” He said, stopping at the balcony and drumming his fingers along the railing. “I don’t know how or when, but something is changing. I can sense it in the wind.”

Wilfred paused.

“You’ve felt it too.” Jupiter stated.

            “I have.” Wilfred agreed, mind flashing to the strange dreams he’d been having lately, dreams of fire and blood, violence. He’d written many of them off as visions from his childhood, but that didn’t feel quite right. “But it’s foggy. It feels far off.”

Jupiter shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know. That’s what’s bothering me, the fact that I can’t figure it out.”

            “Some things remain mysteries even to kings.” Wilfred remarked. 

            “No!” Jupiter replied forcefully. “This-this is different. I can tell.”

            “In what way?”

Jupiter ignored Wilfred’s question. “If something happens to me, I need you to promise you’ll protect my son and heir.”

            “Do you think something will happen? We’ve largely had peace for years, save for a few skirmishes and raids.”

            “That doesn’t matter. Promise me, please.”

Wilfred hesitated. “You know I would.”

            “Swear it. Swear it on my blood and yours.”

            “Jupiter-”

            “Please.”

Wilfred took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I swear on my blood and the blood of the royal household that I will protect and care for the bearer of the Green Ember if ever anything were to prevent you from doing so yourself.”

Jupiter nodded, relieved. “I will sleep easier tonight.”

There was a lengthy period of quiet, during which Wilfred finished off his coffee.

“Coffee at this time of night?” Jupiter asked.

“I walked into my office to find paperwork practically yelling at me.” Wilfred responded. Jupiter laughed, but it sounded half-hearted. “What’s the matter?” Wilfred questioned.

“Nothing.”

“I know you better than that. What was all that about?”

Jupiter let out a long sigh. “I…...don’t know, Wilfred. Ever since I named an heir it seems that hostility has grown. And……”

“Garten. He hasn’t been right since….” Wilfred looked down. “Since Lucy died.”

“He hasn’t.” Jupiter agreed. “It wasn’t his fault.”

“He blames himself though.”

“She’d been sick for as long as I’d known her, which was pretty much her entire life. Long as I’ve known you.” He paused. “Do you think we should be worried?”

“About Garten? Maybe. He and Whittel have been fighting again.”

“That,” Jupiter snorted, “Is one thing I want nothing to do with.”

“I don’t blame you. I swear, if I must listen to another argument about something that happened more than two decades ago, I’m going to lose my mind.”

“It’s not just Sween this time?”

“No, it’s her too. It doesn’t help that she’s pregnant again.”

“She is? Nice to be kept in the loop, Wilfred.”

“In my defense, Whittel said he’d tell you. Too late now, I guess.”

“Since when has Whittel been known to follow through?”

Wilfred laughed. “I guess I deserve that.”

“You do. By the way, Helmer’s the captain I’m taking with me tomorrow.”

“Thank goodness.” Wilfred replied in mock relief. “I think we might just kill each other if you didn’t.”

“Maybe when we were twelve.” Jupiter snorted. “Remember the time he gave me a black eye?”

“I think that’s one of the few times I saw him truly terrified.”

“Well, it wasn’t me he feared. It was my mother.” He paused, then corrected, “Is.”

Wilfred yawned. “Lady Dahlia scares everyone, including you. No use denying it.” He leaned on the balustrade, gazing out over the city.  

Jupiter straightened, yawning widely. “I’m going to go make sure Clive and Emory are actually in bed. G’night.” And he turned and headed for the door as if nothing had happened.  

It struck Wilfred then how pitifully young they still were. Not even forty. He considered that for a moment. He’d had a good life. He knew that Jupiter had. If he were to drop dead that minute, he didn’t think he’d have many regrets. He didn’t know about Jupiter. His behavior earlier had been odd, as he wasn’t normally one given over to worry. Wilfred covered that for them both.

Foreboding crept out of the back of his mind, and he stopped Jupiter from leaving.

“Oh, and Jupiter?”

Jupiter paused.

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with True Blue, would it?”

Jupiter did not answer right away. “Perhaps.” He replied. “The project is…….consuming.”

Wilfred disliked how tight-lipped everyone was being about True Blue. He’d spoken with Perkin on it before-and they both agreed, this was weighing far too heavily on Jupiter.

“Don’t let it become your life, Jupiter.” Wilfred advised. “Whatever it is, it’s not worth it.”

Jupiter put a hand to the door post and bent his head. Then he nodded and left.

Wilfred watched him go, a sickening sense of worry bubbling up inside him.