Author's Preface
The next day—Evony very comfortably slept in.
Osric, however, was up early; he lost himself to a passionate tinkering spree yet again, listening to music in the control room and hunched over the workshop counter in front of a pair of cybernetic metal boots, removing parts from them and adding them to the silver buckle of a stylish black belt. He didn’t make an appearance downstairs until nearly eleven-thirty, around the same time that Cally arrived to start her long shift in the kitchen, as there was quite a lot of food to prepare on this fateful December 1st.
Osric spent some time strolling through the corridors and wandering in the dining hall, watching his staff hang the red and green streamers, the wreaths, the Christmas lights, and more. The head chef and the bartender, Dean and Sampson, took turns climbing a very tall ladder and stringing up the low-hanging orb lamps from the dining hall’s exceptionally high ceiling, all of them unlit and dull-looking as of now, but Osric knew they’d be far more captivating during the evening to come.
He passed by Mayor Byers in one of the back hallways at some point later, and neither of them spoke to one another.
Meanwhile, outside—the county employees were posting up the metal fencing that they always set up every December, walling off the Silver Peaks property from the onlookers and the media. The security team of the lodge—men who wore dark black uniforms with matching hats—began to shoo the media vans away from the sideline parking areas, where the actual guests would be arriving sometime soon. The SPD soon arrived in their police cars, parking a short ways away and assisting the security guards in securing the area from the public.
Thomas and Javari arrived on one of their blasters, parking on the side and striding down the open path. One of the policemen stopped them, and Thomas was forced to show his new Silver Peaks employee badge to them in order to pass, Javari tipping his hat to the officers when they both walked onward.
Terian was simply enjoying his day off work, opening his front door to collect the mail—but he stopped there, surprised to find two large packages sitting just outside of his home, both of them marked Azarias Industries . He dragged them inside and opened them in the living room, pulling several items out and choking out a laugh as he did; he’d received several new devices, including a pair of night-vision camera goggles, a hat with a concealed camera inside, and a brand new home security system, one that usually costed top-dollar.
When noon drew near—Osric slowed to a stop on the second floor balcony, gazing down at the lobby and peering out the glass doors and windows, seeing a few vehicles parking down beyond the stone stairway outside.
“Here we go,” he murmured.
“Sir,” Oliver said, tapping his shoulder. “Might you speak with your compatriots once before this all kicks off?”
Osric gazed down at the lobby and the outside absentmindedly for a long, quiet moment. Then, he shook his head once and returned to reality, making a nod and pulling out his phone.
He typed out a message for the group chat and sent it. His message read;
Osric : Those of you who are awake, able, and inside the lodge… excluding you, Levi… come meet me on the balcony of the second floor. Right now.
Then, he sighed and stuffed the phone away, not caring to wait for any replies.
It wasn’t long before his summoned companions began to arrive; Cally appeared first, jogging up the rounded stairway toward him, still wearing her dark uniform and black apron from the kitchen. Within minutes, Thomas and Javari strolled into view from farther down the second floor hallway.
The three approached Osric and stared expectantly at him.
“Dean’s gonna be mad at me for leaving right in the middle of prep,” Cally sighed, glancing around. “Why’re we here?”
“And… where’s your partner in crime?” Javari wondered.
“Sleeping… probably,” Osric murmured distantly, still staring down at the vacant lobby. “She’s got a fever. If she can’t make it… she can’t make it.”
“Tough,” Evony called out from nearby.
Everyone turned—seeing her approaching from the second floor elevator, her hands in her leather jacket pockets, and her stride hard and powerful.
“Hm. Well. Looks like she can,” Thomas smirked.
Evony stopped alongside them, and they all stood at the top of the second floor balcony, overlooking the entire lobby. Osric didn’t look away from it, still gazing down below through his darkened goggles, looking entirely lost to his thoughts.
“Oz… I’m sorry… but why are we here? ” Cally said impatiently, practically jumping in place. “I’m seriously gonna get in trouble with Dean right now…”
“No… you’re not,” Osric mumbled. “You might answer to him, but he answers to me.”
“Ooo. I know,” Javari uttered, squinting at the front windows and the glass double-doors. “People are just now starting to show up, aren’t they?”
“And we’re here to observe,” Thomas guessed.
Osric made a slow, faint nod.
“I should’ve really…” he breathed in a soft, strange voice, sounding somewhat disengaged. “Should’ve really… had it narrowed down… the way Mr. Ackerman did. That treaty… that treaty, being the sole foundation of my every concern… it really narrows down the prime suspects in the whole thing… the leaders of the Colony and the Empire. I still don’t know what part of my brain overlooked that, but now, I…”
He paused, fell silent, and let out a heavy cloud of breath.
“Well… now I know,” Osric uttered seconds later. “I just didn’t want to look at the real problem… as unpleasant and as daunting as it is. But… that is what we’re here to rectify. We will watch… and see… and face it.”
Evony, Cally, Thomas, and Javari all stared seriously at him without saying anything.
“Oh. And…”
Osric finally looked away from the lobby, glancing between his friends and flashing a half-smile.
“I hope you’re all prepared to be on international television,” he added. “One single crew from AC News is allowed on the premesis to broadcast live to every news station in Concordia during the Christmas Convention.”
Cally’s mouth fell agape, Thomas and Javari raising their brows and trading looks, Evony quietly turning away and raking her comb-over to better cover the left side of her face.
“They’re only allowed to do that at certain times, and in certain places… but the welcoming ceremony is one of them,” Osric informed. “And… as a fair warning… I do intend to announce you all as my personal convention managers tonight.”
“ What …?” Cally gasped. “Even me?! But I’m just a cook! I just work in the kitchen! And I’m not even the head chef…!”
Osric chuckled. “Oh… nobody is gonna question it when it’s me , Cally. I can say whatever I like, and it can simply become true… because this is my place, and nobody will argue. Including Dean. He won’t know what it means… but he’ll be far less strict with your schedule after he hears it, I’m sure.”
“Okay… but, um… you’ve never specifically mentioned convention managers before,” Thomas pointed out. “Don’t you think they’re gonna question what the hell that means?”
“Oh, sure,” Osric replied with a shrug. “Ask me. Play the part of a nosey media head, and ask me. Go ahead.”
Thomas gave him an odd stare, then he asked. “Okay. Um… what are convention managers, and what does that mean?”
“It means they’ll be helping to manage the convention,” Osric replied swiftly. “What else could it mean?”
Thomas eyed him, the decided to push farther. “All right… and in what way will these five random people help you to manage this annual Christmas event?”
“Because each of them has a special skillset that will give them certain insights, allowing them to assist with management specifically in their own unique fields of expertise,” Osric explained knowingly. “Behold.”
He pointed over to Cally.
“A fantastic meal planner,” he said.
He gestured to Javari.
“A very well-practiced show and event planner.”
He then pointed to Thomas.
“An incredibly experienced general manager.”
Lastly, he wagged a finger at Evony.
“And a very sharp personal manager.”
Osric then lowered his hand, cocked his head, and smiled.
“Wait… what’s happening? Am I an employee now? What?” Javari stammered, glancing between everyone. “I thought I was just running a gun show.”
“Well… you are, and you’re an employee now,” Osric stated, turning to Oliver. “Let me have them.”
The bot butler made an odd beeping noise, and the slot above his chest cavity began to spit out laminated ID cards. Osric took them and handed them out to their new owners.
Evony stared down at the card in her hand, a Silver Peaks employee badge, complete with a photo of her, as well as the date and time she was originally hired here and some of the information one might see on a normal ID.
“Oh. Oh that’s nice,” Thomas snarked sarcastically, glimpsing around at everyone’s cards. “Mine feels less special now.”
“Whoa.” Javari scanned over his card front to back. “I’m actually an event planner for you now? Um… does that put me on the payroll? Just curious.”
“Perhaps,” Osric mumbled, staring down at the lobby again. “I may need more than one ‘show’ to happen here, Javari. And I will ask when and if that becomes needed.”
“Um. Oz,” Cally said shyly, holding up her card. “How come me and Evony have never been given one of these before…?”
“They’re not for regular employees. They’re for convention employees specifically,” Osric answered, nodding once down at the front doors. “You might need to flash them just to get into the building throughout the month of December.”
“M’yeah, I ran into that problem earlier…” Thomas mumbled.
“Oz,” Evony said intently. “Why do you wanna announce us as special managers to everyone at the convention?”
“Ahm… that’s a good question,” Thomas remarked, waving a finger at the inventor. “Because I would think it’s better if we’re more of an… incognito group… y’know? Just… considering the shady investigation stuff we’re doing.”
Osric continued to stare down below, his expression more distant than ever, and he let out a slow, thoughtful breath.
“Any enemies I have… who really know me,” he said lowly. “They… will hesitate… when they come across people who are particularly close to me. And I want them to.”
The others all exchanged expressions.
“But… wouldn’t you want them… not to hesitate?” Cally wondered. “Especially if we’re just… trying to blend in, and act normal, and subtly get information from them. We don’t wanna give them a reason to hesitate to talk to us…”
“I don’t think that’s what he means,” Evony said softly, gazing over at Osric’s face and feeling as if she could practically read his mind now.
Thomas, Javari, and Cally all stared strangely at her.
Evony peeked past everyone, ensuring that the entire hallway past the balcony was still empty, then spoke on.
“I think he means they’ll hesitate to hurt us,” she clarified.
“Precisely that,” Osric breathed.
Cally frowned, fidgeting with her apron.
“The people with something to hide will hesitate to speak to anyone. That is unavoidable,” Osric knew. “But if we ever end up in a situation that is physically dangerous… my enemies will all be hesitant to act against me outright, because they all know very well how I handle that sort of thing. And I want them to feel just as hesitant to act against any of you.”
There was a brief, tense silence.
“They all know that I’ll have countless tricks up my sleeve,” Osric murmured ominously. “And that’s exactly what they’ll be afraid of provoking. That’s how it needs to be.”
“It’s a mind game,” Thomas surmised.
Osric nodded. “Yes… and… it works.”
“Okay, well… hold that extremely dark thought for a second,” Javari said, raising a finger and squinting down at the lobby. “Because I think we’ve got our first guest approaching now.”
Everyone followed his trail of vision; farther from sight and at the bottom of the stone stairs outside, they were all able to see a flurry of flash photography kick off while a group of people strolled through the entrance of the new fence, police and security guards standing on either side and keeping the media a safe enough distance from them. The person in the center of this group wore a black suit, a matching hat, and a red-white-and-blue tie atop a white undershirt, surrounded on every side by a large, burly bodyguard—and he strode up the stairs with countless media reporters snapping pictures behind him, the AC reporter stationed at the top of the stairs and narrating to their live feed as they filmed the president walking by.
“ Wow this feels weird,” Thomas breathed as he watched the president approach the double-doors. “I’ve never been on this side of the whole… convention thing… before.”
“I have. Never this early or this close, though,” Javari mumbled. “Me and my family usually just keep to our suites throughout the month… and I’m never usually here to see this part in person…”
One of the big bodyguards opened the front doors, and the president entered the lobby with his six large followers in tow. Anders Rothschild gave a final smile and wave to the camera before entering the building fully, facing the front counter and approaching it with his followers.
Evony gazed down at the president of the entire American Colony, suddenly feeling a bit surreal, and hardly able to believe where she was, or what she was a part of now. She’d never seen the president in person before.
Anders strode halfway across the lobby before he glanced up at the balcony and spotted them all, giving them a brief smile and wave before resuming his pace to the front desk.
Osric was sure to return the smirk and the wave.
“Anders Rothschild,” the president said to the bot butler behind the desk, who quickly typed his name into the computer and handed off the keycard to his room.
After giving his bodyguards their keycards as well—the bot butler politely explained that lunch was currently available in the diner, two of the bodyguards holding luggage and preparing to carry it off up the stairs. Anders thanked the bot, and he and his followers all marched up the stairway together.
Cally made an odd little noise, instantly distancing herself from the top of the stairs, visibly nervous. She and her friends merely watched as Anders and his bodyguards ascended the stairs toward them, reaching the top and pausing there.
“Osric,” Anders said, smiling again and stepping forward, offering his hand. “Pleasure to see you again.”
“And you,” Osric replied graciously, returning the handshake. “I see you’re traveling rather light this year.”
“Well… I’ve got more security on the way,” Anders shrugged. “But I didn’t think it particularly urgent to arrive with a fleet of human sheilds, considering how secure this place usually is. You do a fantastic job of securing everything, as always.”
“Oh… you give me too much credit,” Osric chuckled. “The staff and the county are the real heroes there.”
Anders let out a laugh, then glanced around, his eyes shifting from person to person. Evony merely gazed back at him expressionlessly, Thomas and Javari staring with raised eyebrows, and Cally practically hiding behind her brother now, watching nervously and biting her thumbnail.
“Heh. I myself am not traveling quite as ‘light’ as usual this year,” Osric explained. “I thought I ought to hire some unique convention managers to help with everything this time.”
“Ah… yes, I heard about Grady,” Anders replied with a nod. “It’s a shame he won’t be here anymore. Glad you have more help right here on standby, though.”
“As am I,” Osric smirked. “Well… make yourself at home. Lunch is available, and room service is ready to deliver if you don’t feel up to visiting the dining hall after you get settled in.”
“Of course. Thank you,” Anders said with a nice tip of the hat. “Pleasure as always.”
Then, the president marched past them, he and his bodyguards heading down the second floor hallway and entering the elevator in the near distance. They all watched until the man and his big companions were fully out of sight.
“He seems so nice,” Cally uttered meekly.
Osric nodded, his expression of politeness now gone, and his unreadable visage having made a full return.
“I know,” the inventor murmured, facing the lobby below again. “I do detest that. I wish people would behave how they actually are. But… that’s a childish sort of optimism… one I can never seem to shake, unfortunately…”
They all watched from above as more guests their way up the stone stairs outside, again ambushed by the far-off flashes of photography and yelling bombardments of questions from the news reporters kept behind the fence down below. These were a pair of guests; two different world leaders were walking side by side toward the entrance, chatting with each other pleasantly, looking like two old friends who’d just reunited after being apart for years, only four bodyguards following them.
These were two darker-skinned individuals with pleasant looks on their faces as they talked and laughed together, the president of the African Alliance, dressed in a purple dashiki, and the elder of the South American Tribe Conglomeration, wearing tribal garb intended for the winter, comprised mostly of fur pelts. They pulled the doors open and walked inside with their four casually-dressed bodyguards close behind.
Osric’s mouth curled into a faint half-smile at the sight of them.
“Ubuntu and Andres,” he muttered with a soft little laugh. “Oh, they’re so nice… and they’re great friends, too. Those two do nearly everything together in December. Especially the caribou hunt. They love the hunt.”
“Awww,” Cally grinned down at them. “They do look nice.”
“And not ‘fake’ nice, either,” Javari added. “They look like they’re just genuinely happy to be here.”
“Hello dere!” the African president, Ubuntu, grinned and waved up at them with delight, speaking with a heavy accent.
“Hello!” Osric replied gleefully, returning his wave. “Good to see you both again!”
“And you too!” Ubuntu smiled.
“¿Ahora tienes un robot trabajando en la recepción?” Andres asked, speaking rather quickly.
“Sí. El robot es bilingüe, no te preocupes,” Osric replied to him with a nod. “¡Bienvenido! Siéntete como en casa, Andrés.”
“Gracias, Osric!” Andres grinned, he and Ubuntu moving toward the front desk now.
While the two of them checked in down below—everyone gave Osric a series of surprised looks on the balcony. It took him a moment to notice, turning to his friends.
“What…?” he muttered.
“How many languages do you actually know? ” Evony laughed.
“Oh… just a few,” Osric replied with a shrug. “I host an event that sees people from all parts of the world. Being bilingual is a very underrated skill, believe me.”
Once the two leaders and their bodyguards obtained their keycards, they headed up the stairs, two of the bodyguards carrying their small amount of luggage. They reached the top of the stairway and approached Osric instantly.
“Hello, my old friend,” Ubuntu smiled, pulling him into a hug and slapping him hard on the back.
“Hah… hello,” Osric smirked and returned the embrace. “It’s great to see you both again. You always bring some much-needed warmth to this cold little town.”
“Ahhh… you are too kind to us,” Ubuntu laughed heartily, perching his brows and wagging a finger at him. “And you know who will be winning the carah-boo hunt dis year!”
“Oh… I don’t doubt it one bit,” Osric smiled with a sideways nod. “What was it you got last year? A four-hundred and seventy-four pound male…?”
“Si,” Andres nodded with a grin.
“Yes. We will provide de feast of kings to dis convention,” Ubuntu beamed, slapping Andres on the back. “Dat is our job!”
“And you do amazing work at it, my friends,” Osric smiled at them. “Grand prize for the biggest caribou this year is a thousand American dollars and a mystery box from Azarias Industries. Might get competitive!”
Ubuntu and Andres shared a laugh together.
“We do not do it for da prize , my friend,” Ubuntu chuckled.
“Oh… I know, but prizes can never hurt,” Osric snickered. “Well… make yourselves at home!”
“We will! We will,” Ubuntu assured, giving everyone else a smile and a nod individually before he and Andres headed farther down the hallway.
The two of them walked past the elevator with their bodyguards, heading instead to the end of the hall where the next stairway resided.
“Oh my God,” Thomas breathed as he stared after them. “They’re adorable.”
“Well… they’re very genuine and down-to-earth people,” Osric muttered, facing forward again.
There was a long silence lingering over them in the moments to follow, none of them saying it aloud, though they all quietly understood the situation; people like Ubuntu and Andres were likely the ones who would end up in actual danger if an attack ever did unfold here.
Osric let out a heavy sigh, Evony and the others positioned on either side of him, all of them gazing over the balcony again.
For the next hour—guests arrived, many of whom were either members of the American congress or men from the British parliament, some of them introducing themselves to Osric’s friends when they marched upstairs, others simply walking by. Eventually—when the crowd beyond the stone stairs outside grew to be enormous, when the parking spaces along the sides were positively packed, and when the commotion outside seemed to triple in size and energy—Evony’s feet began to ache, she and her friends having been standing here for ages.
At some point, they all took turns sitting at the top of the stairs as people continued to arrive, giving their feet a break. But they were all on their feet again when an even bigger group of new people arrived in the lobby below.
This time—the people in the center of the group were two slender women in silky blue Kimonos, one younger, one older, the elder of the two with her hair tied neatly back in a tiny round bun. The two women were accompanied by seven bodyguards all around them, all in dark suits with a Kanji symbol on the left side of the chest.
“Ah… now we have the Hajimoto family, the leading family of the Seven Sectors of Asia,” Osric remarked, nodding down at them. “That’s the mother, Sakura… and the daughter, Akari.”
“Whoa,” Thomas breathed, his eyes following Akari across the room. “She is gorgeous …”
“Wait… where’s the guy? I thought that chick was married,” Javari remarked, gesturing down to the daughter.
“No… not anymore,” Osric replied. “Her husband used to accompany her here, but I’d heard the two of them went their separate ways sometime in the summer. The rumor was that her husband found out she didn’t plan to carry on the family’s obligations, so… he didn’t want to be around anymore.”
“Well shit,” Thomas muttered, turning to him questioningly. “Who’s gonna run the Seven Sectors then?”
“Oh… Sakura has a son, too,” Osric shrugged. “I guess he’s not here for the convention this time… but he’s perfectly capable of upholding the family obligations. That frees Akari up to do whatever she likes. And good for her, I say.”
Everyone watched as the two Hajimotos collected their keycards from the bot butler, then marched elegantly up the rounded stairway with their bodyguards close behind them.
When they reached the top, Sakura and Akari both faced Osric with a smile and a gentle bow of the head.
Osric planted both hands atop his cane and returned their slight bow. “Mata oaidekiteureshidesu.”
“Arigato gozaimasu,” Sakura replied kindly, her eyes shifting over to the others. “And… who are all of these people?”
“Oh. Uhm…” Javari suddenly stepped forward, adjusted his hat, and made a small bow. “Hajimimashite. Um… watashi-wa… Armani Javari-desu.”
Sakura raised her brows and smiled with surprise. “Ah… you speak Japanese. Hajimimashite.”
“Hajimimashite,” Akari said as well, flashing a beautiful smile.
“Oh… you fucking weeb,” Thomas muttered under his breath, giving Javari a look from behind.
“Akari-san… Sakura-sama,” Osric said, motioning to each of his friends. “These are my new convention managers. Evony Ackerman, Thomas and Cally McArthur, and Javari Armani.”
Everyone took turns exchanging pleasantries with the Hajimoto mother and daughter. Thomas smiled and looked down when he shook Akari’s hand, looking oddly flustered, and Cally gave him a coy sort of glance from the side.
“It is very nice meeting you all,” Akari said sweetly.
“You too,” Thomas muttered with another bashful smile.
Sakura and Akari began marching down the hallway with their bodyguards, and Thomas scratched the back of his head, turning on his heel and gazing after them for a bit too long.
Cally yanked her brother by the ear, making him wince and turn back around. “Put your eyes back in your head. Sheezus. Could you be more obvious?”
Osric glimpsed over at Javari. “Where did you learn that…?”
“What, Japanese?” Javari laughed. “From anime. I don’t actually know it fluently… but I know enough to say ‘Hi, my name is Javari Armani.’ Haha.”
“Oh my… look alive, sir,” Oliver spoke up, tapping Osric on the top of the hat and motioning down to the lobby. “The British are coming.”
Everyone stared downward once more—and this time, the crowd approaching the front doors was particularly large, the people in the middle of it surrounded by around twelve bodyguards with the Union Flag displayed on the chests of their red and black uniforms. At the front of the group in the center was a man in a slender black suit and a hat—and behind him were an older gentleman and a younger one, the elder wearing a long white robe and a crown, and the younger one sporting a casual black leisure suit with a white button-up underneath.
“Ah. That… would be the prime minister, the king, and the prince,” Osric observed. “The Empire has officially arrived.”
Evony squinted down at the front doors, watching as two Imperial Guards entered the lobby and held the doors open for all the rest.
First, in walked the man in the suit and hat, Grayson Smyth, the prime minister of the British Empire—and the royal family was just behind him. The older man in the white robe lumbered inside with a slow shuffle, his hairs thin and just starting to gray beneath his crown, smiling and waving at the people behind him as he stepped inside. Next to the king was his son—a young man about Evony’s age, slim, handsome, and with stringy blond hairs parted down the center, bangs left just long enough to tent over his eyes, strolling inside with pocketed hands.
“Prime Minister Smyth… King Henry… and Prince Donovan Windsor,” Osric told the others. “More people of interest.”
“Well… two of them, anyway,” Javari shrugged, nodding down at the prince. “I don’t know about that dude. He doesn’t look shady. He looks bored.”
“Yeah… he looks like he barely wants to be here,” Thomas laughed. “Poor bastard.”
“What… what’s going on with the king’s ears? ” Cally breathed, leaning over the balcony and narrowing her eyes intently at the king of the Empire. “His ears look… weird…”
Javari chuckled at this, leaning over and whispering to her.
“ Imbreeding ,” he said softly.
Cally reeled back and gaped at him, looking aghast.
“Well…” Osric nodded sideways. “That’s… possible. There have always been rumors like that about the royal family. But… who really knows.”
“His son doesn’t look… imbred,” Evony commented quietly, staring down at the prince. “He looks good.”
Osric blinked behind his lenses, glancing at her, then looking down at the lobby again. “Yeah. I… suppose…”
The prime minister was followed not only by bodyguards, but by two bell boys carrying his luggage, as were the Windsors. Grayson was the first to step to the front counter and receive his keycards, then he trekked up the stairway with his bell boys and half of the Imperial Guards at his heels.
He stopped at the top and greeted Osric with a handshake.
“Hello again, Mr. Azarias,” Grayson said cordially.
“Hello again, Mr. Smyth,” Osric replied, returning the handshake and offering a smile. “No family this time?”
“Oh, no… they wanted to enjoy their holiday in the Scotland Aisle this year,” Grayson informed. “My wife took the kids with her. She’s spending time with her father while she still can. I wanted them to have at least one more Christmas together. The poor bloke doesn’t have much time left… bless his soul.”
“Aw… I’m sorry to hear that,” Osric responded. “Glad your family is giving him all the time they can, though.”
“As am I,” Grayson said with a nod, looking to everyone else, but not addressing them. “Well… I’m off to get myself settled in. See you at dinner, old boy.”
“See you then,” Osric dismissed with a two-fingered salute.
Everyone watched as the prime minister and the large crowd following him walked down the hallway, some of them entering the elevator while others went to take the stairs.
Moments later—the Windsors, their bell boys, and the rest of the Imperial Guards marched up the stairway toward them.
“Good day, Mr. Azarias,” King Henry greeted, clasping one of Osric’s hands with both of his and giving it a gentle shake. “And how are you this afternoon?”
“Perfectly well, Henry. And you?” Osric said politely.
“Brilliant,” Henry grinned. “It’s a wonderful day for this… not a blizzard in sight.”
“Heaven forbid,” Osric laughed. “We don’t want a repeat of last year, do we?”
Henry smirked and nodded, then turned to his son and patted him once on the arm.
“Well… say hello,” the king requested.
Donovan turned to Osric and the others, managing a smile and a single wave. “Hello again.”
“Pleasure as always, Donovan,” Osric replied, then turned and gestured to his friends. “Oh, and… these are my new convention managers. Evony Ackerman, Thomas and Cally McArthur, and Javari Armani.”
The king and the prince took turns exchanging handshakes and greetings with all of them. Then, Osric and Henry began speaking again—and Donovan’s final handshake was with Evony, his hand lingering on hers for a moment, and his eyes narrowing just the slightest bit at her face.
Evony swallowed, slowly withdrawing her hand and combing her hairs more over the left side of her face without thinking.
Donovan, however, didn’t give her the same look of disgusted intrigue as others often did. He didn’t seem to be gazing at her scars—just her eyes, and he flashed a warmer sort of smile.
“Pleasure to meet you,” he said softly, sliding his hands back into his pockets and giving her a wink. “ Truly a pleasure.”
Evony stared at him, attempting a smile and feeling her cheeks begin to burn.
“Why, um… why the need for so many managers all the sudden?” Henry wondered.
“Oh… my previous manager, Grady, you remember him?” Osric responded. “He’s no longer here with us. And… he was a bit overwhelmed with the convention at times, too. I thought the workload might be a bit less intense with multiple managers organizing things this time.”
“Ahhh. That certainly makes sense,” Henry replied, nodding mildly and turning to his son. “Well… shall we?”
“We shall,” Donovan affirmed, giving Evony another sly smile and blowing her a subtle little kiss before walking off. “See you around, love.”
Evony opened her mouth, making a wave and just managing to reply. “Ah… yeah, see you around…”
The king, the prince, the bell boys, and the guards all ventured down the hallway where their compatriots had gone moments ago, everyone watching until they were out of sight.
The second they were gone—Cally whipped around and grabbed Evony by the arms, ogling at her in astonishment.
“Oh. My God,” she choked with a laugh, a grin crawling across her face. “Do you know what just happened?!”
Evony’s mouth drifted agape. “Ah… no…?”
“The prince of the freaking Empire was smitten with yooou! ” Cally beamed with glee. “Ohmigod—do you know how many years Bell’s been trying to get his attention?! Do you know how freaking obsessed she is with him?! And you just got exactly what she wants without even trying! Ha! ”
“Oh… great,” Evony muttered disdainfully. “Another reason for the mayor’s daughter to hate me. Fuckin’ super…”
“Um. That actually is indeed fuckin’ super,” Javari said knowingly, raising a finger and glancing around. “Because if you could get closer to him, Evony… then there’s your opening to investigate the royal family, right there.”
“Oh… please,” Osric mumbled, facing the balcony again. “That’s hardly necessary…”
They all fell silent—and for a good while longer, they watched as more important figures from around Concordia arrived in the lobby below, some entering the building with their families, children in bundled-up winter attire sprinting inside and gazing around in wonder at the inside of the Silver Peaks Lodge.
Eventually—after what seemed like all the important guests had arrived, after the gigantic crowd outside of the property finally began to diminish a bit, and after everyone grew tired of standing or sitting by the balcony—Osric allowed his friends to disperse, instructing all of them to be in the dining hall by six.
Cally rushed off back to the kitchen, nervous as ever, despite that Osric had assured her she would not get in any lasting trouble with her boss. Thomas and Javari ventured up to the fourth floor to their own rooms, seizing a moment to sit down—and Evony, Osric, and Oliver temporarily retreated to the top floor together before dinner could begin.
They stepped out of the elevator and strolled down the castle-like hall, Evony pausing and gazing out one of the wall windows, the sky outside slowly fading to sunset, and she saw far more people on the main stretch in front of the lodge than usual, even seeing traffic driving slowly through the farther snowy roads of Silverhollow, which was an unusual sight.
“Wow… this is weird,” she commented, turning to the side and expecting Osric to have stopped as well, but he hadn’t.
The inventor was still marching off toward his office.
Evony pushed away from the window and eyed him from behind, then quickened her pace after him.
“You… okay?” she asked.
Osric stopped in the large doorway of his office, turning to her and looking as if he’d just returned to reality from his thoughts.
“Ah… yeah,” he uttered. “Yeah, of course.”
Evony eyed him skeptically. “You sure? You seem distracted.”
“No… I’m fine,” Osric replied shortly, flashing a smile.
Evony stared at him, still unconvinced. “You’re not nervous, are you…?”
“Oh, no… no, I’ve hosted this thing a million times,” Osric dismissed, turning and strolling into his office. “And I’ve been through far scarier things than a quiet investigation. Nothing to be nervous about at all…”
Evony surveyed him thoughtfully for a moment longer before breaking into a stride after him, still feeling as if something was awry, something he wasn’t talking about.
He sank into his chair behind the desk, and she sat on the one across from him, both of them savoring a moment to be off their aching feet before the welcoming ceremony would begin.
The two were silent for nearly a full minute.
Evony was slacked sideways on the armchair, basking in its cushioned comfort with her legs propped up atop its arm. She glanced over, staring at him astutely.
Osric was leaned back in his chair, his fingers intertwined, his goggles aimed up at the elk’s head on the adjascent wall, and his expression as distant as ever.
Evony continued to read him, racking her brain and trying to determine what on earth could be bothering him if it wasn’t the convention in general, or their investigative goals.
“Are you… worried about all the kids that showed up here?” she tried to guess.
Osric remained disengaged with the world for a few seconds longer, then sighed and made a mild shake of the head.
“No,” he murmured. “I’m fully confident in my defenses here. If there is an attack… the children will not be harmed.”
Evony made a slow, strange nod, beginning to draw a blank.
“Then what’s a’matter?” she asked bluntly.
Osric was silent for a moment again. Then, his goggles eventually ventured down to her, his mouth easing open, wanting to say something, but he couldn’t force the words out, sighing and rubbing his temple.
“Is it the prince, sir?” Oliver inquired.
Osric dropped his hand to the arm of his chair, giving the bot a look that Evony suspected to be a death glare from behind his darkened lenses.
“Sorry, sir.” Oliver slowly floated backwards. “Never mind…”
Evony glanced between the two of them. “What… the prince of the Empire? What about him?”
Osric sighed heavily once more, shaking his head once and starting to speak several times before succeeding.
“Well, I don’t want you to feel… pressured,” he tried to explain. “Javari’s idea wasn’t a logically bad one, but… I… don’t want to put you in that situation.”
Evony stared strangely at him for a moment, looking down and pondering on this for a few seconds before she realized what he was referring to.
“Do you mean using her to catfish the prince of the Empire, sir?” Oliver asked.
Osric gave him another deadpan stare. “Do you have any idea how easy it would be to kill you, Oliver?”
The bot butler chuckled.
“Oh… I doubt if that situation would even happen,” Evony laughed. “I don’t think I’m gonna get all kinds of attention from him. I don’t even know him.”
“Well… that doesn’t matter,” Osric grumbled, fidgeting in his lap and looking away. “He’s a man …”
“Yes… and quite a handsome lad, I might add,” Oliver said. “One who’s likely very used to, um… getting his way with the fairer sex, so to speak.”
“Oliveeer,” Osric murmured, still staring to the side and repeatedly thumping his knuckles to his leg. “I would really like for you to stop talking now…”
“It is my duty to say the things that you can’t say, sir,” Oliver remarked. “I am not capable of feeling jealous or flustered. Therefore, I can say with full impunity that, if Prince Windsor does decide to persue her, then Miss Evony has a grand opportunity to garner some privacy and intimacy with him, which very may well grant her the chance to learn something important about the royal family—”
“Oliver,” Osric said in a low, strange voice, slowly turning his head to face him. “I have an EMP grenade right in the top drawer of my desk.”
“Empty threats begin to lose their effect after roughly the first five years of them, sir,” Oliver replied swiftly. “And please, don’t misunderstand me. I am not suggesting that she should take that opportunity. I am only pointing out that the opportunity is there.”
“Yes… but Evony is not a spy, nor a prostitute ,” Osric quipped in response, clasping his hands together on his desk and cocking his head at the bot. “So we will refrain from entertaining any options that regard her as such, now won’t we?”
Evony looked down, blushing and feeling almost embarrassed by this entire conversation.
“It doesn’t have to go any farther than talking , sir,” Oliver pointed out. “She could simply speak to him in private without anything else having to transpire.”
“Well… that’s… entirely up to her,” Osric sighed, facing her again. “And don’t feel obligated. Don’t feel like you even have to consider that option… all right?”
Evony stared at him, smirking and letting out a laugh.
“I don’t, really,” she muttered.
“Well… good,” Osric concluded, leaning back in his chair and massaging his temples again. “H’oh, boy… I must summon the energy for the welcoming ceremony… I must…”
“Which is set to take place in eleven minutes and thirty-seven seconds, sir,” Oliver told him.
“Thank you,” Osric mumbled. “I so love hearing now little time I have to relax down to the last second. It’s wonderful…”
“You’ll only be doing the introduction speech and your flashy little fireworks show, sir,” Oliver reminded him. “After that, you can simply… as you put it… slip away.”
“And thank God for that,” Osric exhaled, lowering his hands and looking to Evony. “Well… let’s get the finale of the day done and over with, shall we?”
Evony nodded.
They both stood from their seats, marched out of the office, and took the elevator back downstairs—entering the high-energy commotion of the long-anticipated Christmas Convention.
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