Polina's government-provided apartment was decent, all things considered. Clean, precisely-cut aetherlights imported from Christdom bathed the rooms in white light, making it feel a little like a foreign hotel. Marakova had been telling the truth when she'd assured Polina that it'd been well stocked; the kitchen was small, but modern, and the gas stove and oven heated well, supplemented by Federation-cut orange moon crystals, which, while not nearly as efficient at heat generation as Cascadia's red, made a difference.

Her new flat wasn't the only change in her life.

When Marakova warned her that a guard would shadow her, Polina hadn't quite realised how literal her words would turn out. She'd been assigned a guard—a man she'd been introduced to as Ivan—who might as well have been a rock golem from the Endless Sands from his lack of expression or emotion. She suspected his curt answers and his permanent stiff expression were either a sign of unrelenting professionalism or that he was completely indifferent to everything and anything but his orders to follow her practically everywhere.

As frustrating as it was to have a strange man wait outside her apartment while she slept, and follow her wherever she went while undertaking her analytical work, she knew complaining would get her nowhere. But, in a small act of childish defiance, Polina began to tease him a little here and there, if only to see if she could provoke any sign of humanity from the rigid guard.

But she was careful not to push it too far. Despite his plain, undecorated uniform, she'd caught the glimmer of red aura on his skin. She was certain Ivan was a decorated veteran or an agent of the Secret Police. At times, while bringing her to and from interrogations in the Red Citadel, he'd produced papers that seemed to allow them to pass any door or challenge.

Going forward, she naturally assumed Ivan reported directly to Director Boris Ivanov and therefore kept the teasing to a minimum.

The days ticked by, and Polina began to get back into a routine. In her work as a Senior Analyst, she'd been pulled off anything related to Cascadia or demonkind and was given analytic work on Christdom and their military and logistic expansion. On the international stage, the Federation and Christdom pretended they were firm comrades-in-arms, but that veneer of civility could peel off at any moment. There was a long history between them and their western neighbour over the centuries, with more than a few conflicts ignited for territorial and religious reasons.

Although it was grunt work, it was grunt work that painted a grim picture. Christdom's build-up was publicly in response to Cascadian aggression, but Polina knew that behind the scenes, it was also a response to the growing Federation military that sought to establish itself as a Great Power on the continent. Of course, the Federation claimed it was naturally expanding its armed forces in response to Cascadia, but Polina knew they were growing equally concerned with Christdom's rapidly accelerating production.

No doubt, the demons would give a similar excuse for their own build-up.

"Hmm…" Polina hummed to herself, flicking through the intelligence reports on her desk. "Christdom's expanded its outposts along the Northeast Passage... Are they preparing to establish more trade routes to Tinh Hai?" As usual, she vocalised her thought process; it helped her think. Polina examined the map included in the agent's report, detailing the locations of newly constructed ports Christdom had established on the circumference of Marzanna's Circle—the planet's frozen cap, where there was little but endless ice and great white bears that hunted fish and strange black-and-white creatures.

"Unlike the Southern Passage of Cascadia," Polina muttered, "the Northeast Passage is free of tornadoes and whirlpools, but it carries its own dangers of freezing temperatures and vast floating fields of ice, undetectable by aetherscopes. Hmm…" She consulted the report that detailed a new type of ship Christdom had produced—Icebreakers. These ships, rivalling battleships in size and weight, boasted a heavily reinforced bow and powerful lift engines, designed to either push the floating ice islands aside or push the ship through them.

"A novel approach," Polina said thoughtfully. "But one that sacrifices cargo capacity for more bulkhead armour. How much indigo crystal could this carry back from Tinh Hai? The profit must be slim, surely?" she asked no one but her own mind. Christdom had become so eager to renew its crystal reserves that it was investing in new logistic routes through the cold hell of Marzanna's Circle.

It was understandable. With the war technically over, Christdom would no longer have its shipping through the Sabanis Channel harassed by Cascadian ships, but should conflict break out, that route would quickly be blockaded. Christdom—like the Federation—was seeking to diversify its crystal income.

The human nations didn't have demonkind's luck when it came to moon crystal access. Cascadia had five moons: red, yellow, green, blue, and purple. The human continent—Terra Aurea—only had three: Christdom's brilliant white, the Federation's warming orange, and to the distant east, Tinh Hai and its neighbours possessed its ethereal indigo.

She'd heard rumours of a mythical black moon, hidden somewhere in the sky against the black background of space, but she considered it no more than a sailor's tale. Polina had filed away such stories alongside drunken reports of a shadowy animal god of impossible size hiding in the Great Storm, as well as tales of new lands full of riches hidden just beyond the Cascadian skyrifts, or apparent sightings of a new continent thousands of miles to the west, further than any ship could sail.

The last one particularly amused her. If no ship could sail that far, then how was there anyone there to see the new lands? Apparently, there was a Bureau branch that investigated such reports, but Polina had never met anyone who'd worked there.

Although Polina didn't feel a sense of exploratory excitement over sailors' tales that were more often than not invented on the spot to get a few coins or another drink, she knew someone who did.

I wonder what Amelia is doing? Polina thought as her mind wandered. Then, as quickly as the question had appeared in her mind, she shook her head to dispel it. What was she doing, thinking about that person, here and now? She had work to do. All she had to do was stay diligent and produce good analytical reports, and soon she'd be free of any doubt and suspicion.

Suppressing a sigh, Polina tapped away on her typewriter. The soothing clack of the keys carried her all the way to the end of the working day, where she packed up and notified Ivan—who had been standing outside her door all day—that she was going home.

"Mmm," he grunted, falling into step beside her.

As they left the citadel, Polina shivered against the winter chill. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out her ushanka, a cosy fur hat that even warmed her ears. Ivan wore a similar hat, but given the red aura she'd seen him use, she doubted he needed it to fend off the cold.

Their boots crunched the snow as they made their way back to Polina's apartment. Although Ivan would enter her abode anytime he pleased, whether to make sure she was awake or for any other reason, he typically remained outside while she slept.

She said goodnight to the man, receiving only a grunt in response.

Polina cooked herself a quick meal, making use of the last of the supplies the apartment had been stocked with. After tidying up, she crawled into bed. While it wasn't as luxurious as the bed she'd slept in as a prisoner of Cascadia, it was a stark improvement over her recent experience in the Federation cell.

I should stop comparing my life to my time in Cascadia, Polina thought, chastising herself for having so many useless thoughts. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed. It was like she no longer completely belonged in the Federation. It was as if there was a small sliver of her that had been left behind in Asamaywa, in that room where she'd had her final discussion with Amelia.

Given her mental disarray, it wasn't surprising that Polina found herself jerking awake from a nightmare with a frantic, panicked yell. By the time she realised she'd been dreaming, the noise of Ivan's boots could already be heard coming inside. He opened the door without knocking, quickly scanning the room before settling his gaze on Polina and raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Nightmare," she explained, swinging her feet off the bed and onto the carpeted floor. Glancing at the grandfather clock, she realised her nightmare had acted as a well-timed alarm clock, with the first rays of the early morning sun poking through her curtains.

"Bad dream?" Ivan asked. "What about?"

"...The Sakamoto explosion."

"Which part?"

"The part where I exploded."

"Mmm." Ivan gave her a quick nod. "Get dressed."

"...Yes." Polina waited a moment before giving the guard a look. "Are you going to watch?" she asked sarcastically. Her thin bedwear didn't leave much to the imagination.

"No," Ivan responded, turning away. "I'll be outside."

Polina rolled her eyes. Allowing herself a small sigh, she rubbed the sleep dust out of her eyes and methodically went through her morning routine. She wiped herself down in the tub with a washcloth while her cup of coffee brewed in the kitchen. It wasn't great coffee. The greenhouse-grown variants that the Federation produced tasted thin and lacked the depth of flavour that Yameni, Shilohi—or the gold standard, Jimari—coffee possessed.

Another thing she found herself missing.

Polina opened her fridge to find that the purple-crystal cooled appliance was empty. That was right, she'd used up the last of her food last night. Sighing to herself, Polina resigned herself to a hungry morning and, putting her ushanka on her head, left her apartment. Without a word exchanged, she and Ivan began the short trip from the residential blocks to the Red Citadel.

They passed a few parks on the way through the blocks. There, mothers congregated and gossiped while their children dozed away in cots in the cold—an old Pulpian tradition of boosting the children's immune system by exposing them to the fresh winter air. Polina looked for a few seconds before turning her head away. If she kept looking, her heart would twist, and her mind would go to places she couldn't handle on an empty stomach. Perhaps—

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

"You didn't eat," Ivan said without looking at her.

"Sorry?"

"You didn't eat," he repeated.

"...No."

"Mmm." They walked for another minute before Ivan stopped, pointing at a nearby building. "Get breakfast there."

"I'm not hungry."

"You're not a warrior. You're a woman. Eat," Ivan commanded with a bit more force in his voice.

"...Yes."

Polina approached the eatery. It was busy in the morning, and Polina recognised a few colleagues from other departments. She exchanged a few nods with them. While they glanced at her companion, they didn't say anything. Polina didn't know how much they knew, but as far as she'd been told, the official cover story was that Ivan was there for her protection as she was working with delicate information.

Browsing the menu, Polina settled on a familiar dish she hadn't had in a while.

Solyanka.

A traditional Pulpian soup. Thick and sour, full of vegetables and cooked meats, it was the ideal dish to start a long working day—especially in the winter. While it was a dish Polina was well familiar with, having eaten it for most of her life, she was drawn to it for another reason.

"Recommended cuisine?" Polina had asked Amelia in their last meeting. "It would have to be Solyanka, of course."

"Oh?" Amelia had queried. "What's that?" After Polina had explained the Pulpian dish, Amelia had exclaimed, "I'd love to try it! I'll find a chef who can make it!"

"Sure," Polina had replied, feeling a smile form. "But it won't be true Solyanka unless it's made by a Pulpian chef, with Federation-grown ingredients."

"Guess that's another reason to come to the Federation, then!"

"Stop saying silly things…"

Polina shook her head and ordered a portion. Turning to Ivan, she asked, "Do you want some?"

Ivan, not unexpectedly, declined. In fact, now that Polina thought about it, had she ever seen him eat? Or consume any substance? Maybe he really was some kind of magically constructed golem.

Polina's food arrived. She sat down, quickly eating the traditional dish. It was good Solyanka. Her empty stomach growled in appreciation at the meal.

Only… it didn't taste quite as good as she remembered.

Maybe it would taste better if she ate it with friends?

With Amelia?

Polina's spoon froze halfway to her mouth. What's happening with my mind? She thought. Why do I keep thinking such unnecessary things? Amelia is gone. Aligned with the demons. Get your head straight, Polina!

"Anything else?" a worker asked her, appearing next to her like a ghost.

"No, thank you," Polina said, getting up and preparing to leave. Although the food was acceptable, she typically avoided eateries like this. They were built next to the residential blocks for the government workers. Publicly, it was for convenience, but Polina knew that the people who worked here were agents who kept their ears peeled for anything problematic.

Nothing problematic here, Polina thought to herself. So go eavesdrop on someone else.

Leaving the building, she and Ivan only made it a few metres when a deep rumbling sounded from above. Looking up, she sighted a ship slowly manoeuvring onto one of the Red Citadel's staging towers, its lift engine rapidly purring as it came into dock. Ships berthing against the citadel were a common sight for her, but what caught her eye this time was that this ship didn't have the functional, blocky design of a Federation ship.

It was smoother, more elegant, painted in white and gold, with great red banners hanging that displayed blazing golden crosses.

It was a ship from Christdom.

Ah, that was right.

She'd heard a diplomatic delegation from their western neighbours was due to arrive any day. There was supposed to be a gathering consisting of Federation officials, Christdom leaders, and the Republican government in exile. With the war over, they would likely be here for weeks, throwing blame at each other for not doing enough to fend off Cascadia's relentless onslaught. Would they be talking to Calvin Cornelissen—Cascadia's ambassador to the Federation?

"Come," Ivan said, walking through the snow.

Polina followed without a word.

She pushed the Christdom diplomats out of her mind and continued her usual morning work. Just before lunch, Ivan called on her to attend an interrogation. Polina dutifully obliged, using her blessing to help the party interrogator root out corruption of a middle-management official. The stupid man had tried to lie, but with Polina's help, it wasn't long before they found where he'd stashed the bearer bonds he'd purchased with money siphoned from fake construction contracts.

She and Ivan watched as the blindfolded man was dragged away, blubbering and sobbing, spewing apologies like it would save him from his upcoming penance. Without a word, they began walking back to Polina's office, navigating through the main thoroughfare of the Bureau. Polina had expected it to be another uneventful day. That was until they caught sight of a group of men walking the opposite way towards them.

From their white, red, and gold uniforms, Polina recognised them immediately.

The Christdom delegation.

Almost unconsciously, Polina stepped to the side to allow them to pass. Ivan took a step beside her a moment later, watching the delegation approach. They were in deep discussion, whispering about something to do with economic tariffs against Cascadia. It wasn't until they got a little closer that one particular member of the delegation drew Polina's attention.

A man, almost a head taller than the rest, with tousled brown hair and an easy-going, mature face. A man who looked like he was in his mid-thirties, but Polina knew he would be much older than he looked, if the rumours about him were true.

A man with silvery-blue eyes.

As they came closer, Polina sensed Ivan bristle. It was the first time she'd seen any significant response from him to an outside source. Through him, she could sense the subtle tension the warrior was reacting to. It wasn't that her guard was preparing to fight, only that he was responding to the ability of the tall man from Christdom on an instinctive level.

Was it her imagination, or did that man lock eyes with her as he passed? And… did his mouth curl up slightly? If she wasn't going crazy, she could have sworn he'd even given her the smallest of nods, so subtle it could have been dismissed as nothing but a twitch. As quickly as he looked at her, he moved his gaze to the other members of the Christdom delegation, listening intently as they rattled on about sanctions.

Neither Polina nor Ivan moved. They simply stood and watched them walk down the corridor before turning and vanishing from sight.

Only then did Ivan relax.

"Do you know each other?" he asked.

"No."

"...Do you know who he is?"

"Yes."

"Mmm." Ivan nodded. "Let's go."

Polina returned to her office. Work was difficult; her mind continued to try to pull her in other directions. Amelia. Serena Halen. Her time in Kenhoro, when she went shopping. And now, the face of that man kept appearing.

It didn't help that he looked like her deceased husband.

"Six heavens," Polina muttered to herself. She gave her cheeks a light slap, forcing her mind to focus on her work. It took a few hours, but she eventually settled back into her workflow. By the time she finished her analytic report, she looked up to realise it was almost midnight.

Of course, Ivan was still there, standing perfectly still at her door.

"Sorry for making you wait," Polina said as she closed and locked her office.

"Mmm."

They returned to her apartment, where Polina left him at the door and went about her bedtime routine. Morning came, and she once again ate Solyanka for breakfast before doing her best to focus on nothing but her work. She didn't see the Christdom delegation again, but she did see a few members of the stuffy Republican government in exile with their grey handlebar moustaches and grumpy expressions.

Well, they'd lost a war. They were allowed to be a little grumpy, weren't they?

She wasn't directly assigned to anything related to the delegation meetings, but she heard a few pieces of gossip here and there. Little of it seemed good or productive. Neither side wanted to take any accountability, while arguing it was everyone else's fault for not doing enough. There were rumours that some of the arguments had almost come to blows, and they were struggling with the wording of a joint statement they intended to release to the international stage.

While confidence was lacking in government, it seemed the media also shared similar opinions. Federation broadsheet headlines seemed more negative than positive these days. Polina sighed as she flicked her eyes to some of the papers that had come out over the last few days.

CASCADIA CONSIDERS ANNEXING REPUBLIC INTO EMPIRE CLUTCHES.

SABANIS DOMINANCE DETERMINED TO REMAIN NEUTRAL.

MONTHS AFTER SUIJIN'S RETURN — WHAT WE KNOW.

FEDERATION ECONOMIC OUTPUT REACHES NEW HEIGHTS.

After a week, Polina felt like she was just able to get back into a normal rhythm again. Although sometimes annoying, she'd gotten used to Ivan's presence and his brevity. He wasn't the only new person to inject themselves into her life; she was given a new assistant. The same junior analyst who had stuck his freckled and spectacled face into her office so many months ago. Whether he was there to keep an eye on her or not, Polina didn't mind. She could actually do with an assistant.

She was still pulled into the depths of the Red Citadel to make use of her truth-teller abilities. Sometimes she was called once and then not again for a few days. Other days, she spent more time in cells listening to guilty confessions than doing her normal analytical work. Whatever the day prepared for her, Polina diligently did what her duty required.

She had a few more nightmares, but she slowly felt her mind strengthening as time went on. Before her capture, just thinking of Serena Halen, whether her name or her face, would fill her with subdued rage that could boil over at any minute. It was only because of her former determination to kill the woman that she could keep it under control. But now, after being exposed to Amelia and her worldview, Polina found she wasn't quite as lost in her own emotions when thinking about the Hellfire Captain.

Thinking about her child could still bring her to tears, but it was becoming more manageable by the day. Polina wasn't sure, but she suspected that Amelia's healing might have helped close some of the mental wounds that had tormented her for so many years. But no matter how powerful Amelia's magic was, it couldn't take away Polina's grief, not completely.

After a few more days, there was a moment when Polina thought she might finally get back to a normal, peaceful life.

It was a foolish thought.

Polina had almost drifted off to sleep when she heard her apartment door open and a set of boots make their way down the corridor. The footsteps seemed hesitant, as if unsure where to go. Polina blinked herself awake, sitting up as the footsteps stopped outside her door.

"What now, Ivan?" she asked as the door opened.

Only, it wasn't her guard.

It wasn't Ivan.

It wasn't any Federation guard.

Or any Pulpian man.

But it was a man she knew.

The very same man who'd passed her in the corridor nearly ten days ago, giving her a complicated look as if he'd recognised her. It was the very same man who resembled her deceased husband.

"Blessings of the Seven Heavens upon you, Miss Volkova," the man said, his Pulpian sounding strange spoken through his Christdom accent. "I apologise for the late visit, but this is the only time slot I've managed to secure. No need to worry, I wish you no harm. I will…" The man looked her up and down, a small smile on his face. "...I will make some tea while you dress yourself. See you in a moment, Miss Volkova."

With that, the man closed the door, his loud footsteps taking him to Polina's kitchen.

As she heard the tap running and the kettle being filled, she could only stare at the door in shock.

Why was…

Why was Caolan the Paladin in her apartment!?

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