“The ale was especially good, tonight,” Hendrik added over his shoulder as he followed Kon out the door.
Alara positively glowed as the door closed behind him.
“You’re a good boy,” Kon said with a chuckle, grabbing a flat, felt hat from the pegs on the wall. “She’ll live off that ‘til the next full moon.”
“We really don’t get pickles like hers,” he admitted with a smile.
“They’re miners’ pickles. Our people didn’t get good veg to preserve until this generation, probably. Had to make do with what was left.”
They stepped out into the moonlight together, and then Hen finally asked, “What is it?”
Konstantin shot him a knowing look. “What makes you think I don’t just want a walk?”
“When you want a walk, it means you have something to say,” Hen replied but with a smile. It was nice to have Kon’s company alone. Alara tended to inanities, so it was hard to talk about anything with her present, and Kajja couldn’t help asking a million questions—or, apparently, saying irritating things that Hendrik couldn’t stop thinking about.
“Wanted to ask if you’ve given any thought to your future,” Kon said quietly.
A lump rose to Hendrik’s throat. “A little.”
“You have time, of course,” Kon said easily.
But not much, Hen finished in his head. Seeing Kass so near the front of the procession at the See this morning had been an all-too-tangible reminder. Hearing the names of those who’d inherited this moon had been even worse. When Kass inherited…
After a moment of silence, Kon said, “Do you know what you’ll do?”
“Do you have any advice?” Hen asked. Konstantin was steady and intelligent, the kind of man who saw things from multiple angles. He could be relied on.
“Of course, it’s good for the family if you continue upward. Having you in one of the elite corps with the Guardhall would mean even more comfort for us.” Kon sighed.
Hendrik nodded. “That’s always been my intention.”
“But if there’s someone you’re thinking of settling down with…” Kon suggested.
“No,” Hen said, too quickly. “No, I’ve never been interested in family life.”
“As long as it’s for your own sake,” Kon said.
Surprised, Hen glanced at him. Kon looked straight ahead at the cobbled street, face clear beneath his flat hat. Hendrik said, before he could stop himself, “Nothing is for myself. It’s all for the City.”
“Of course, of course,” Kon said easily. “But for all that, you still have to live the life. I know they give you guards options, but I sometimes wonder if it’s enough.”
“Enough for what?”
“To make up for the change, after your charge inherits.”
Hendrik shook his head but couldn’t make himself say anything for a long moment. A chasm opened up in his heart, wide and yawning, threatening to pull him in.
“It’s something to think about, is all,” Kon said. “I want you to be as prepared as you can be.”
“For the inheritance.”
“For the inheritance. I know it’ll be hard on you, even if it’s your duty and privilege. And that’s alright, Hendrik.”
“It’s not about me,” Hen insisted but quietly.
“No. And yet,” he repeated, “you’ll be the one to live it.”
They were silent for another moment before Hen said, “I won’t be one of those guards who slips into drink and dissolution after inheritance, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Or worse, the ones who disappeared.
“The only thing I worry about is whether you’re prepared. Those guards weren’t, but I’m sure they’re not the only ones. I wanted to know your thoughts.”
“Thank you,” was all Hen could say. His own preparation wasn’t a priority—Kass’s was. But it was nice to hear someone say it was, all the same.
“I’m your father,” Kon replied with a chuckle.
“Most guards in the Complex—their families are proud of them, of course, but they don’t really…know them.” That’s what it was, Hendrik was pleasantly surprised to note. He hadn’t realized before this moment that Konstantin actually knew him at all.
“It’s a sacrifice, letting you kids go so young. We all do it in the hope of a better life than what we could’ve given you. Better opportunity. You’ve made the most of it from the start. But you’re still ours, Hendrik,” Kon said softly.
Hen nodded, letting this sink in. He wasn’t sure he was theirs, truth be told. If he was anyone’s, he was Kass’s, and as this conversation—and every damned thing today kept reminding him—that wouldn’t last forever. But he appreciated it all the same.
*
“How’s the family?” Kass asked brightly once Hen peeled off his outer layer and settled back into their cell.
Hendrik nodded, wondering how much of the evening he really wanted to discuss. Not that he’d ever been able to hold anything back, once Kass decided he wanted to know something. Hen said, “Alright if Kajja comes on the next visitor’s day? She asked about you.”
“She should come.” Kass pulled his legs up under him, grinning.
