!!! WARNING !!!

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𝖂𝖍𝖎𝖈𝖍 𝖎𝖘 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖕𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙? 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖔𝖝𝖎𝖓𝖘 𝖎𝖓 𝖒𝖞 𝖇𝖔𝖉𝖞, 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖊𝖓𝖘𝖓𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖒𝖊—𝖔𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝕴 𝖋𝖊𝖊𝖑 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖞𝖔𝖚?

⁜※⁜

There was a knock on my door, quiet and subtle. Seven knocks in a rhythmic pattern. My eyes slowly opened. A Guard.

I slipped out of the tattered covers of my bed and padded over the cold metal floor, stretching my numbed arms. The mattress wasn't exactly poor quality, but it was much harder than my one back home, bordering on outright uncomfortable.

Home... I was beginning to forget what it looked like after having been faced with the bronzes and browns of the Fortress for so many years. That said, there wasn't exactly ever a dull day in the prison beneath the waves, I thought as I opened my door.

Most exiles didn't get such privacy, I knew as I stared with tired eyes at the Guard in front of me. I had known for a long time. It was only a few years ago when the Guards stopped barging in for random inspections and left me to my peaceful sleep—as peaceful as it could get down here, anyway. Over time, the sound of the ever-functioning machinery stopped being a nuisance and became my lullaby—my starlit path to the realm of dreams each night.

Those golden eyes pierced me with distrust. He did not speak, sunglow hair fluttering lightly on a phantom wind—or perhaps whatever steam the machinery happened to be grinding up tonight. I leaned on the doorway as he stared at me, meeting his gaze with a cat-like grin that almost caused him to flinch. "Little late to come kiss me goodnight, Ielmini."

This time, he really did flinch. "You and your nonsense..."

I angled my head, the grin fading slightly. "So? What is it you want?"

"His Grace called for you."

I straightened, my smile quickly replaced with a solemn expression. "What does he need?"

"I'm not at liberty to discuss these things out in the open—and this matter happens to be particularly important." He inclined his head to the corridor. "Let's go. I'm to escort you there."

"I know how to find my way around the Fortress, Officer Ielmini," I drawled, staring at the long nails that adorned each of my fingers. Not quite as long and sharp as they were during my time as a criminal—but longer nails tended to be a nuisance when doing physical work, anyway.

Ielmini gripped my arm and hauled me out of my room with a huff. "Just because His Grace has granted you partial freedom for your help does not mean I nor any of the other Guards trust you."

He let go and I dusted myself off, before grabbing a rather drab-looking jacket from a coat-hanger by the door and pulling it on. It was more of a long nail I had found and hammered into the wall, but it served its purpose. With one look from Ielmini, the two of us began to walk, the metal flooring clanging beneath his boots. My bare feet made no noise on the ground whatsoever—like a feline padding silently on the ground.

We didn't talk. My feral smile made sure conversation was dissuaded. It wasn't as if I had anything against Ielmini—but he hated me. And that was fun to play around with. We entered an elevator that would take us down to the Administration Area—and while I usually loved to tease and jabber on, the elevator was one of the few places that silenced me. It just wasn't a very social area, I thought as I picked at my nails.

"Didn't we strictly tell you that having nails longer than half a centimetre was forbidden?" he said, gripping my wrist to lift my hand into view. He had a very firm grip, so much so that it almost genuinely hurt.

"I was beginning to miss my old weapons," I said, a feigned longing in my voice as I flexed my fingers, nails glinting in the warm light.

He tsked, shoving my hand away from him. "You're to cut them before work tomorrow." He levelled a glare at me. "And don't sharpen them."

The elevator stopped and we strolled out. I rolled my eyes, sighing, "Ah... why do you mistreat me so?" I glanced sidelong at him, mischief glinting in my eyes. "If you want me to meow for you, Officer, just say the word—"

He whirled on me and I instinctively threw my arms up. "I. Hate. Cats," he spat. "But you know what I hate more? Criminals. Those with no remorse for their wrongdoings." He straightened, a smirk of his own settling on his face as he continued to walk. "So imagine my horror when I was tasked with escorting someone named the Cat Criminal into the Fortress—"

"Oh, please, spare me from hearing that name! Even just Feline was better than that, but if the other inmates ever catch wind of that stupid nickname—"

"Quit your yowling, Cat Criminal," Ielmini said, coming to a halt as we neared The Duke's office. "It's a wonder His Grace bothers with you and doesn't just throw you out into the waters."

I huffed, crossing my arms and turning away. "I'll have you know that every time we talk, I always leave him with a smile on his face—"

"Shut it." The tone in his voice was enough to quickly put me back in line. While the Fortress of Meropide did indeed mould me into someone who wouldn't be too much of a nuisance on the Overworld, my personality still tended to clash with people—especially the Guards. Perhaps it just wasn't something that could be fixed—something that had long been a part of my system that I had become accustomed to flaunting and showing off. "As if His Grace would ever smile for you."

The tufted-haired man soon noticed us waiting for our attention as he talked with some other guards and stalked towards us. I angled my head as he approached, arms crossed. "It's very late, Wriothesley. Or is it early morning?"

"It's Your Grace to you," Ielmini snapped from beside me.

"Officer," Wriothesley said, a warning tone in his voice. The Guard backed down.

I unfolded my arms, all traces of that teasing personality gone within a heartbeat. "What's the situation?"

"Attempted assassination, we believe."

I blinked. "In the Fortress? Here?"

Wriothesley nodded. "Before you ask how, let me ask you a few questions first."

"Go on."

Wriothesley looked at Ielmini and jerked his chin at the other Guards, dismissing him. He glared at me once more, before taking his leave.

The Duke then looked back at me. "Care for some tea?"

"Throw in some Credit Coupons and I might consider it."

"Receiving the tea or giving us the information?"

"Both. Just because I'm a loyal informant of yours doesn't mean it's free."

"Is receiving privacy not enough for you anymore, Feline?"

I gave him a sly smile. "Perhaps this cat is just feeling a little greedy tonight after being woken from her slumber."

Wriothesley chuckled a little. I hoped Ielmini and the others were watching. "You always knew how to make the rules work for you." He half-turned. "Come on. We shouldn't discuss this out in the open—not with so many eager listeners in the walls."

I nodded, silently agreeing, before I followed him into the privacy of his office. It was a little smaller than I remembered, perhaps due to the fact that I was no longer being shoved into a nine-square-metre room to idle my time away during sleepless nights. Or maybe because the initial awe I had felt upon first coming here had since turned from privilege to expectation.

No—that was wrong, too. It was still a privilege. But it was one I could count on should I ever need the safety of these walls.

Because sometimes, the room that I had called home for so many years now stopped feeling like home. Stopped feeling—safe.

I would never admit it to anyone and rarely admit it to myself, but the Fortress was a scary place. When the nights were long and the walls felt like they were closing in, I would want to be anywhere but in that room. I longed for the freedom of the Overworld. And sometimes, when I did so, my sentence began to feel eternal, my days unbearable, the area around me cramped, and I'd wish for Death to mother me away instead of sleep.

Those times would appear out of the blue, and had since I had first come—but it wasn't until I had been invited into Wriothesley's office two years into my sentence that I began to sneak out of my room past curfew and curl up like a frightened kitten by the office door. Waiting for nothing but a peaceful sleep, mind you.

Of course, it wasn't long until The Duke stumbled across me and ushered me inside. I was a far cry from the inmate he had met a few weeks prior—and the mirror opposite of the Feline criminal in the files he had no doubt read through. That night, I slept soundly on the couch, and the next morning, he offered me a larger room for me to take up residence. As if he had seen right through me—seen my fear of being caged.

The Duke cleared his throat, dragging my thoughts away from those fateful moments and to the cup of tea he now held out in his hand. I took it with a nod of gratitude, setting it on my knee.

Wriothesley leaned against his desk, broad arms crossed. "So," he began. "About the information..." He tossed a couple of Credit Coupons onto the desk in front of me, clinking together.

I looked up from my tea. "Straight to work, Your Grace?" He didn't smile, so I added, "This is hardly how a gentleman greets a lady." I lifted the tea to my lips.

He scoffed lightly, humour in his tone. "Lady? I don't see a lady in the room."

My brows raised as I rested the cup back on my knee. "Perhaps I was being too generous when I called you gentleman. It seems uncivilised, obnoxious and ignorant brute would be more appropriate."

He smirked. "Is that right?"

"Extraordinarily accurate, wouldn't you say, Wriothesley?"

He laughed at that. "If this is how you treat the Guards, then no wonder some of them have come to dislike you."

I pouted—fake and teasing, of course. "Don't tell me you dislike me, too, Your Grace."

"I..." He paused, and there was something softer in his voice the next time he spoke, despite his roguish grin. "I could never dislike someone like you, Y/n."

"Never?" I probed, now curious about this sincerity I had stumbled upon.

"Never."

I smiled and went back to my tea. "Well, that's good, then." He seemed to bristle at the dismissal—something I certainly wasn't expecting and half thought I had imagined.

Suddenly, we both paused. The conversation had already ended—but the air became so still it was as if everything had just frozen in place. We met each other's gaze, confirming what the both of us had sensed. Someone was listening in at the door, which had indeed opened just a crack.

Stall, his eyes seemed to say. Don't let them realise we've noticed them.

I nodded, ignoring the fact a silent conversation had passed through the space between us. It wasn't the first time, after all. The both of us had skills in reading people.

"A—ah! Have you heard?" I began, making something up as I went. "Some of the convicts have formed a new group. G—Gardening for Greats, they called it."

Wriothesley gave me a mildly incredulous look—as if saying that's the best you can come up with?—before replying. "Gardening in the Fortress is a futile effort."

"Yes, they're not very bright... Perhaps they're something you should keep an eye on?"

"I suppose no one can really be that stupid..."

"Naturally."

"Alright," he said, eyes now on the door, voice steady. "I'll keep them in mind—if that's what you recommend."

"Your Grace, I am your loyal informant. Why would I spread lies?"

He chuckled a little. "I wouldn't put it past you, Y/n."

I huffed, about to cross my arms when I remembered I had tea in my hands. "Consider me offended."

When he didn't reply, I turned to the door also. It had closed, and yet Wriothesley still watched the door, waiting. In case they came back. Suddenly, the weight that had been hanging in the air lifted and Wriothesley loosed a breath, as did I.

"Good stalling," he simply said, running a hand through his fluffy hair as he turned away.

"Who was that? Why are they listening in?"

"I don't know. It was a good thing you noticed them at the door. I wouldn't have been able to keep you from running your mouth without alerting them if you hadn't."

I gave him a wry smile. "Just because I'm chatty doesn't mean you need to undermine me. Being aware of my surroundings was imperative to my job."

"And yet you still got caught."

"You got lucky."

"Fontaine certainly did with you off the streets."

I set my cup down on the table, sighing. "You're so cruel to me..." He only smirked. I met his gaze once more. "Is it safe to talk?"

He nodded. "Right now, whoever was at that door would have no idea as to the progress of our investigation. They'll likely think they have time—time to enact whatever plan they have in mind."

"Only a Guard could have access to the door without seeming suspicious."

"And only a Guard could smuggle things into the Fortress without being caught." He began to pace the room, a thoughtful expression on his face, finger and thumb holding his chin as he walked. He paused. "Are there any fellow convicts you know that any particular Guard might despise?"

"You mean apart from myself?" I grinned. Wriothesley showed no reaction and that smile was quickly gone. "I have not. And you know this is the first I've heard of an assassination attempt on someone within the Fortress. Do you know how they planned to do it?"

Wriothesley shook his head. "Not the method, no. We only know it was an assassination because one of the Meropide Guards found someone who wasn't a convict snooping around and questioned him. He was killed before any further information could be gleaned."

"By whom?" Or what.

He chewed on his lip. "That remains to be seen. The method of that murder is also unknown, although this proves there is a mastermind behind the plot within the Fortress."

"Who is likely one of the Guards."

"Indeed," he confirmed. He hummed in contemplation. "We need to find the target."

"No," I said.

"No?" He turned to face me, bewilderment on his face. "We need to offer our protection before it's too late. The assassination will occur if we don't do something."

"I have no doubt about that," I replied, crossing a knee over the other and placing my hands on top. "But we have zero leads as to who is being targeted. We need to go for the source."

"And if the assassination takes place before we can apprehend the villain?"

"That is a risk we must take—and a sacrifice that will undoubtedly bring us closer to finding the culprit."

He huffed a small chuckle that didn't stem from humour. "It seems you retain your criminal mind even after all these years in the Fortress." I flashed him a grin. Sometimes, the calculating and ruthless mind of a criminal was exactly what you needed. "Very well. But the leads we have for the mastermind behind all this are few and far between as it is."

I stood, my eyes meeting his with a seriousness rarely found in them. "Then we better start searching."

⁜※⁜

The Fortress was bare. Try as we might, none of the five teams of Meropide Guards—plus Wriothesley and myself—were able to find any leads as to who and where the mastermind might be. Many convicts had woken up, afraid they would be searched or just merely curious as to the source of the noise, and they were all gently ushered back into their quarters.

The browns and bronzes were beginning to feel dizzying. To have any chance at finding a clue, we had to search high and low—and in tight spaces. A cage—forcefully shoving myself into a cage—

"Oi, convict." I looked up from where I was perched on an old box to find Ielmini staring down at me. "You alright?"

"Just tired," I replied. Not a lie. Just a half-truth. And it was enough for him, it seemed, as he turned and began to order the squad he had been placed in charge of around as we came to the end of our short break.

In all honesty, I was surprised we were able to work together without conflict. There were, of course, moments when some rather emotional Guards would say something out of line, but I would always respond in kind. Sometimes, other Guards would pull them up on their behaviour. After all, not every Guard in the Fortress saw me as a nuisance. And my skills happened to be quite useful.

As I bit into the tasteless muesli bar that served as my snack—and quite likely my breakfast, as I was undoubtedly going to sleep until the afternoon once this was done—a Guard from another squad came rushing over, arm waving to get our attention. Ielmini was immediately conversing with him, nodding and asking questions every now and then, before ushering us all over.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Well, Feline"—I scowled—"it seems another group has found a clue." He paused for emphasis and I refrained from huffing in exasperation. So dramatic. If one wanted to put on a good show, one would perform in front of the enemy, not the ally. It was more effective that way. "A secluded area where no Guards patrol. Tight and hidden."

I paused. Secluded... and tight. My response was firm: "Count me out."

Ielmini stiffened. "Why?"

"I don't like tight spaces." There would be no beating around the bush tonight. Though I might usually have responded cryptically, there was no time left for fun and games.

"Broke your nails stuck in one?" he crooned, clearly not picking up on my seriousness—or just wanting to taunt me.

I seethed, glaring. "Do not talk to me in such a condescending—"

"What's the trouble?" Like a wraith in the night, Wriothesley suddenly appeared from one of the shadows. From his expression, I knew he had been listening—and knew very well why I wouldn't go in and help the Guards any further.

"Your spy and informant won't help us anymore," Ielmini said with a tone that said he knew The Duke would take his side. Or was at least confident he would.

But Wriothesley turned to me with a strangely soft look in his eyes and nodded. "Very well."

"What?!"

"Need I remind you, Officer, that this is beyond what I asked her to do. I merely wanted her to provide information—and she went a step further to help with the investigation. She's done more than enough, and I'm sure she's quite exhausted."

"But Your Grace—"

"That's enough," he snipped, a hand on my back as he led me forward, my face warming at the touch. "We should hurry and finish searching before the other convicts wake up."

We were a good distance away from the others when I murmured, "Thank you..."

He only replied, "I know." He knew—knew how much it meant to me to be out of that situation. It didn't matter if I was the strongest criminal alive—which I wasn't. Everyone has their weaknesses.

But as we came to a stop in front of the space where the Guards had found the suspects, most of the squads already gathered, I began to feel something like... uselessness. I could not provide info, was no help in finding clues... and now I couldn't even aid in apprehending the villains. For if I stepped foot inside that cramped space, no doubt someone would have to carry me out.

"You can wait out here. I'll discuss our findings with you when I come back." No hint of that teasing demeanour he and I had adopted. Granted, we were surrounded by Meropide Guards and our friendly banter was usually kept