Chapter 21
Convictions
Conrad’s birthday arrived at last.
In the days prior, Aaronn had accepted the senator’s offer and, as a result, moved into one of the residential hotels within the city’s political complex. The room was far larger and more luxurious, offering ample space for Lunamilla and Linart, who had settled there with him.
Jaje Neima feared that another attempt might be made against his son. That was why Aaronn was preparing to attend the celebration as a bodyguard. Yet while he had embraced his new role flawlessly, Lunamilla had made an entirely different decision.
“You’re sure about this?” Linart asked, his tone edged with restrained irritation.
“Yes,” Lunamilla replied. “I refuse to let him believe he has a chance with me.”
“But it’s the perfect opportunity to gather more information on Neima,” Linart insisted. “I’m sure Conrad could reveal something crucial without even realizing it!”
“I know… but I refuse. I—I want to live according to my values. I’m certain it won’t harm the resistance. Aaronn has already gotten close enough to the senator, in my opinion.”
Linart frowned and threw himself onto his bed.
“Fine,” he muttered.
Aaronn tightened the belt of his black suit trousers, watching the exchange. Linart seemed increasingly strained by the pressure of their mission.
“Relax, Linart,” he said. “Lunamilla’s right. We’ve gotten close enough to the senator. Now it’s my move.”
Linart sat up, exhaling one last breath of frustration.
“Yeah, sorry… I just want to carry out this mission properly. And I’m still trying to believe we’ll see our amarite again someday.”
“I understand,” Aaronn replied. “Still no news from the mine?”
“No. No alert has been issued. Look at the bright side—the police aren’t after us, and we’re not being hunted by the Light warriors.”
Aaronn’s brows knit together.
“No sign of the Eyes nearby?”
“None,” Linart answered. “No change in the reports announcing Light warrior arrivals in the city. Neither I nor Niel’s men have seen him.”
They were currently in the center of Ornéa, more than two kilometers from its borders. If Manve?n had entered the city, Niel’s watchers would have alerted them already. And if he had spotted them, he would have intervened by now.
“I’ve been thinking about the ghost mercenaries,” Lunamilla said suddenly. “What if it’s the manifestation of a sacred treasure’s power?” She pulled the Bottomless Pouch from her pocket as she spoke.
“I don’t know of any capable of that,” Linart replied. “But it’s a good theory.”
“It is,” Aaronn agreed. “We should keep that possibility in mind… All right.” He adjusted his tie. “I have to go. I’ll keep you informed.”
Lunamilla stood abruptly at the mention of his departure.
“Aaronn… I hope you’re not upset about my decision. But I can’t stop thinking about what you told us at the mine. The universe rushes to return what we give it, doesn’t it? And what we give is tinted by our emotions… so I refuse to—”
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“I understand,” Aaronn interrupted gently, a friendly smile on his lips. “You’re making the right choice.”
The birthday celebration was in full swing.
Aaronn stood by one of the glass doors leading to the balcony, observing the guests mingling. The young women vying for Conrad’s hand all wore golden ornaments bearing the Neima family emblem—delicate hairpieces woven with precious leaves intertwined like braids.
His gaze met Conrad’s as the young man approached, holding two cardboard plates topped with slices of cake.
“Hello—you’re Lunamilla’s brother, right?” Conrad asked, offering him one.
“Yes, that’s me,” Aaronn replied, hesitating. As a bodyguard, he wasn’t supposed to eat.
“Don’t worry,” Conrad added quickly. “My father won’t mind. It’s my birthday, after all.”
Aaronn gave a faint, appreciative smile and accepted.
“I wanted to thank you again for the other night,” Conrad said between bites. “I don’t know what would’ve happened without you.”
“It was only natural. I didn’t want any harm to come to my sister’s old friend.”
“She told you about me?” Conrad reacted at once.
“U— a little. When we received the invitation, that’s when she mentioned the friendship you shared at the orphanage,” Aaronn said, taking a bite of cake.
Conrad’s expression dimmed slightly.
“So you know I confessed my feelings to her? Honestly, I didn’t expect anything back then. She always seemed so out of reach. And that hasn’t changed. I understand why she refused my invitation.”
“I’m sorry,” Aaronn said empathetically. “I’m sure you’ll find someone who truly matches you.”
“I hope so… All this ‘nobility’ is new to me. I’ve never been particularly gifted, and I struggle to adapt. But I don’t want to disappoint my father.”
Conrad was surprisingly open. Aaronn might be able to glean more about Jaje from him.
“Hold your head high,” Aaronn said. “You’re worth more than you think. Lunamilla respects you deeply.”
A spark lit in Conrad’s eyes, as though those words had ignited a wave of happiness within him.
“Thank you… Lunamilla has always been compassionate. I still remember the day she cried for my brother… He’s probably dead by now.”
“I didn’t know you had a brother. What happened?”
“That’s normal. Very few people know. He was a year younger than me, and we lived in the same orphanage. He was… a Half-Chosen. Since the discovery of the murders of Half-Chosen, it’s become easier not to declare them. My brother managed fifteen years without being discovered—until two years ago.”
“The year you were adopted?”
“That’s right. Lunamilla is the one who kept me from drowning in grief. He was my only family…” Conrad’s voice trembled at the end.
“My condolences.”
“Don’t worry. It’s in the past now.”
Aaronn offered a sympathetic smile. Had Jaje Neima reported his own son to Eile?n? It was not a hypothesis to voice aloud.
“The rumors about Jaje Neima must bother you, don’t they?” Aaronn asked carefully.
“That he would denounce Half-Chosen in hiding? A little… yes. I don’t believe it. Honestly, those rumors are probably spread by the resistance. They’d do anything to elevate Solana Mayer to Chief Senator.”
The resistance appeared to have little public support. As Linart had said, one would have to be mad to oppose the Light warriors. Yet Aaronn still sensed hope: if the people had truly lost the will to fight for their rights, they wouldn’t be helping Half-Chosen remain hidden.
“I have to go,” Conrad said. “Please give Lunamilla my regards… and could you return this to my father?” He handed him a necklace. “He gave it to me, but it broke at the start of the party.”
“I’ll bring it to him right away,” Aaronn replied, taking it.
He stepped into the hallway. At the center of the iron necklace rested a small polished stone veined with fine blue fissures.
He recognized the signature of amarite instantly.
As he neared Jaje Neima’s office, he heard the senator’s voice through the half-open door.
“Our surveillance cameras show the ghost mercenaries vanishing into thin air! I agree they possess Senator Leroy’s equipment, but I strongly doubt he’s capable of magic. How am I supposed to believe you when you tell me you had nothing to do with it?”
Aaronn slowed, listening.
“None of yours can wield such magic? Nor any sacred treasure? Listen… I’m willing to overlook this matter, since it ultimately benefited me—but I need at least the certainty that I’ll win the election!”
Who was he speaking to? None of yours. There was no doubt in Aaronn’s mind—he was conversing with a Light warrior or an official from Eile?n.
“I refuse to reveal more without guarantees. The polls show I only hold a slim advantage over Senator Solana.”
Reveal more? Was he referring to the Half-Chosen?
“Very well. I’ll meet you tonight at my laboratory.”
A satisfied smile touched Aaronn’s lips.
Lunamilla had been right to follow her heart—of that he was certain. Without her decision, he would never have spoken to Conrad, never overheard such a conversation.
Now he only needed to attend that meeting and spy on their exchange.
Lunamilla’s convictions would be the strength that carried their quest to success.
