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Nathaniel Wesninski was born to be the Right Hand of Ichirou Moriyama, just as his father had been born to be the Right Hand of Ichirou's father, just as his grandfather had been born to be the Right Hand of Ichirou's grandfather, just as all his paternal ancestors had served the Moriyamas since time immemorial. The High Lord's Right Hand was a position of great influence and renown. They were the representative of the High Lord's power throughout his domain. Much like a person's dominant right hand threw punches or wielded a blade, the Right Hand of the Moriyamas imposed their Lord's will through force and was universally respected and feared.

Nathaniel's father had earned his reputation through bloody campaigns. His skill and ruthlessness had earned him the nickname of 'The Butcher' and he struck terror in all who would oppose the Moriyama family. Nathaniel had inherited his father's superficial physical features and red-hot temper but he was his mother's son. Small, lithe, and quick on his feet, he didn't have the imposing stature necessary to intimidate.

Upon his presentation to Ichirou on his eighth birthday, the young Lord Moriyama had looked troubled. "This child will never be my Right Hand," he had proclaimed.

The Butcher had nodded once sharply. "As you say, my Lord," he said. "He will be disposed of. I will take care of it myself."

The teenaged Ichirou had raised a single hand in censure. "I said he will never be my Right Hand," he said. "I did not say I had no use for him. He shall be my Left Hand."

If the Right Hand was the High Lord's sword then the Left Hand was the dagger up his sleeve. Working from the shadows, the Left Hand was unseen by most, performing whatever unsavoury tasks that the Lord required. Assassinations, espionage, blackmail: these were the specialties of the Left Hand. They were to be the sharpest knife in the High Lord's arsenal.

And Nathaniel was very sharp indeed.

Nathaniel was woken by a quiet knock on his door. He blearily opened it to find a single raven's feather on the floor. He rolled his eyes at Ichirou's needless dramatics. He'd obviously sent a servant high up into the tower to Nathaniel's rooms in order to leave the feather; why couldn't the servant have just told Nathaniel that he was being summoned? It was something common to all the Moriyamas, Nathaniel reflected as he quickly dressed, self-aggrandizing tyrants that they were. As he was not even close to being foolish enough to voice such highly treasonous thoughts he submitted to the way of things with only minimal derision.

He made his way to Ichirou's chambers, slinking through the hallways like a wraith. There was no reason to do so, but it was second nature to him.

Ichirou was waiting for him in his study. He sat at his desk, his hands steepled together, deep in thought. Nathaniel unceremoniously dropped into the seat across from him, kicking his feet up on the corner of the desk and crossing them at the ankle.

Something flashed through Ichirou's eyes - part annoyance, part amusement. Nathaniel could get away with such insolence only because of his value. Over the years he had served Ichirou well which gave him liberties that no one else was permitted. He knew that if his usefulness decreased he would be punished severely.

"My brother," said Ichirou calmly; his reptilian gaze was unreadable, but he betrayed his feelings with a slight sneer on the word, "has let his temper rule him and has made a rash and potentially costly mistake."

"Shocker," said Nathaniel dryly. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "Does this mean that you're finally going to send me to kill him?"

"Not yet," replied Ichirou. "Your talents are needed elsewhere."

"Where do you want me and my considerable talents?" asked Nathaniel, making sure to stress the word 'considerable'. He felt it was always a good idea to remind his employer how indispensable he was.

"Riko has injured Kevin Day and driven him outside of our control," said Ichirou.

"Idiot," muttered Nathaniel.

"That may be, but he's still a Moriyama," said Ichirou with steel in his voice. "Do not forget it." He held Nathaniel's eyes for a moment before continuing, "Day has sought shelter with his estranged father at the Foxhole Court. You are to go there and ensure that he is not sharing information that he should not be and that neither he nor Wymack are planning to move against us."

"And if Kevin's stupid enough to be doing so?"

"Kill him," said Ichirou succinctly. "That is what you are for, is it not?"

"You don't want him back?"

"Wymack may make trouble if we take him back and we are currently stretched thin due to the troubles in the west."

"You think Wymack won't make trouble if Kevin dies?" Nathaniel couldn't help the sarcasm that bled into his words, despite the fact that he knew that Ichirou wouldn't like it.

"I assume that you're talented enough to frame someone else for the murder," said Ichirou, a distinct threat in his tone.

Nathaniel had received so many threats in his life that he barely registered them anymore. "Have I ever let you down?"

Ichirou studied him thoughtfully. "No," he said after a short pause. "But there is always a first time for everything."

"Such faith you have in me. I deserve better."

"You deserve exactly what I give you," said Ichirou in a clear dismissal. Nathaniel was on his feet and nearing the door when he spoke again, "What do you know about the unrest in the west?"

Nothing that he was willing to share with a Moriyama. "They are disorganized peasants. The Butcher should have no trouble quelling them."

"What of the reports that the Hatfords are behind it?"

"There could be truth to that," Nathaniel hedged. "They really hate your family; my parents' marriage did nothing but exacerbate the long-running feud. However, there's nothing to indicate that they're willing to work with the Trojans."

"Do not think divided loyalties will excuse any omission in this area," warned Ichirou.

"What loyalty do I have to the Hatfords?" asked Nathaniel. "They may be my kin but I was pledged to you from birth. I have served you loyally."

"Continue to do so and we won't have any problems," said Ichirou. "I will not lessen your punishment because of past service. Any betrayal by you will not be overlooked. You will not survive."

Nathaniel would have been worried about Ichirou questioning his allegiance if he didn't get similar lectures regularly. He wondered if his late mother's past insubordination precipitated them or if Ichirou spoke like this to everyone who served him. He strongly suspected the latter.

"I assure you that I would not expect any betrayal of mine to go unnoticed," he said, keeping his tone light and joking so that Ichirou wouldn't take him seriously. "I promise that should I betray you, my Lord, you'll know."

David Wymack had a small court known as the Foxhole in a town called Palmetto. Nathaniel had been there many times; although Wymack had never caused problems for the Moriyamas he had the potential to do so. He had been a knight in Queen Kayleigh's court before her death and was Kevin's father, although it was unlikely that he knew that. Although High Lord Kengo's brother Tetsuji had been named Regent of Kevin's kingdom, Wymack could have easily challenged the Moriyamas for control of Prince Kevin and all his prosperous lands in the east. Nathaniel had been making annual trips to Palmetto to maintain relationships and keep his ear to the ground for any plans that Wymack made to bring Kevin into his sphere of influence.

And now, because Riko had never been taught restraint or control, Kevin had sought shelter at the Foxhole Court anyway.

It took Nathaniel less than two days to travel to Palmetto. He had sent out the necessary clandestine messages to inform certain interested parties about his change in location, packed his supplies, and taken an unremarkable bay gelding from Ichirou's stables. Once in Palmetto he set up a base of operations in a location he had used before: the attic of a house belonging to a wealthy couple who were spending the warmer months at their lake house.

Then it was time for some snooping. He would eventually have to go speak with Renee as he couldn't walk around her turf with impunity, but he wanted to re-familiarize himself with the court first, wanted to explore Kevin's rooms and map out the best places to lurk out of sight in order to eavesdrop.

Dressed all in black, with a hood to cover his hair and a bandana to cover the bottom half of his face, he crossed the court's grounds like a shadow. He scaled the outer wall and easily picked the lock on one of the windows on the upper floor. He slid soundlessly into the room and dropped to the floor. Looking around quickly to get his bearings, he oriented himself and then exited the room to start stealthily making his way down the deserted hallway.

Only years of carefully honing his instincts and reflexes saved him. He saw the sword coming at him from an alcove a fraction of a second before it hit him and managed to turn enough that he caught the flat of the blade on his side. The force of the blow knocked him off his feet; instinctively he rolled to put distance between himself and his assailant. He flipped back to his feet out of the range of the sword, brandishing his knives.

He and his attacker appraised each other. It was a short, blond man wearing a black uniform. He bore both the insignia of the Foxhole and the prince's personal guard.

"Better luck next time," the man said.

"You're new," said Nathaniel, speaking in a rough, low tone that he always used in his spy gear in order to disguise his voice. "You must be the prince's bodyguard. Andrew Minyard. I've heard about you." He gave him a once over. "I expected you to be taller."

"And you must be the Left Hand of Ichirou Moriyama," replied Andrew with no expression.

"Kevin's told you about me? Are you shaking in your—" Nathaniel glanced down at Andrew's feet "—oh, good boot choice," he said. "Those things are sturdy. Good for kicking. You'd be surprised how many guards wear impractical footwear." He took advantage of Andrew's confusion to inch closer to the open balcony doors on the far side of the hall.

"Yes, Kevin's told me about you," said Andrew, recovering. "He's more frightened of you than he is of Riko."

"That's surprising."

"Because you're harmless?" asked Andrew dryly.

"God, no," said Nathaniel. "Because that's sensible and I don't expect sense from Kevin. He's right, though. Riko is an incompetent bully. I am not."

"Incompetent or a bully?"

"Why don't you wait and see?" Nathaniel smiled his father's smile behind his bandana.

"Why don't you leave and not return?" countered Andrew.

"Where's the fun in that?" said Nathaniel, again talking a few steps backwards. He was close enough to the exit now that he could make a break for it. "Tell Kevin I'm keeping my eye on him."

"I won't let you near him."

"Then let the games begin," said Nathaniel as he spun on his feet and took off. He dodged the sword that Andrew threw after him, laughing as it clattered to the ground. This was the most fun he'd had in a long while. He paused, perched on the railing of the balcony, in order to turn back to give Andrew a two-fingered salute.

"Be seeing you," he said as he threw himself off the balcony, catching himself on the bottom of it and swinging down. It was a completely unnecessary stunt and it hurt his injured ribs like a bitch but it was completely worth it.

That had been a badass exit. He hoped Andrew appreciated it.

It seemed that Plan A was off the table. Nathaniel wouldn't be able to follow Kevin around now that his brand new bodyguard was on the lookout for him. That brought him to Plan B: undercover infiltration. He would require several days of careful preparation to enact said plan, so first he decided to pay a visit.

"I ran into your new guard dog," he said the next evening, swinging into Renee's room through the window. She, like him, preferred to have a room near the top of a building since their climbing skills made roof access appealing.

"Ran into him literally, I heard," replied Renee, clearly amused.

"You didn't even flinch," Nathaniel complained. "Sneaking into people's rooms is so much more rewarding when they shriek. And yes," he said, grasping his side, "literally. I think he bruised a couple of my ribs."

"Of course I didn't flinch. I've been expecting you ever since Kevin showed up in the middle of the night with a broken hand." She turned to give him a piercing stare. "Are you here to kill him?"

They'd been trained by the same people; she was several years older and had been at the tail end of her training when he'd begun and she'd taken him under her wing. Later, they treated each other with professional courtesy, passing along whatever information they could. She usually turned a blind eye to him sneaking around the Foxhole just as he ignored her when she showed up at the Moriyamas' Castle Evermore. But, for all that she was a spy, she hadn't been an assassin for years and would never allow him to kill anyone under her purview. He estimated that eight times out of ten she would win a fight between them, although neither of them would escape unscathed. Therefore, he liked to stay on her good side.

He made a so-so gesture with his hand. "Probably not? I'm mostly here to see what he's up to."

"Are the Moriyamas coming for him?"

"Not yet," he said with a shrug. "They're slightly occupied in the west."

"Ah, yes, with the Hatford-Trojan coalition."

Trust Renee to have uncovered something that Nathaniel had taken pains to hide. He forgot, sometimes, that despite her name change and softened demeanour that she was still the whip-quick Natalie who had once taught him the three quickest ways to kill a person. "Are the Hatfords allied with the Trojans?" He affected confusion. "I haven't received any intelligence to indicate that. If I had then I would be honour-bound to pass it on to my Lord."

Her clever, dark eyes seemed to bore into him. "Very well," she concluded. "I won't interfere with what you're doing here. What's your plan for dealing with Andrew?"

"Oh, probably the usual."

"Driving him to distraction through sheer annoyance?" she laughed.

"Hey, don't knock my methods," he said. "I've found them to be very effective."

"But likely to get you punched in the face."

"I think that's just a side effect of being me," he said wryly. "In my experience about seventy percent of the people I meet want to punch me in the face after speaking with me."

"Only seventy percent?"

"The other thirty percent think I'm adorable and want to keep me as a pet. There's no middle ground. Hazards of being a cute, tiny, mouthy asshole."

"What about me? Am I the seventy percent or the thirty?" she asked.

"Please, like you didn't want to carry baby Nathaniel around in your pocket as soon as you saw me," he snorted.

"I refuse to respond to that on the grounds that I may incriminate myself."

He chuckled. "Alright, I've got things to do," he said, heading back to her window. "Oh, wait, which would make a better welcome gift: a fruit basket or a bouquet of flowers? Minyard deserves the best."

The best way to get free access to the court and to hear all the gossip was to be hired as a servant (well, the second best way. The best way was to sneak in and walk around like he owned the place but Nathaniel had already failed at doing that unnoticed). Therefore he had to create a vacancy. Since this involved either getting someone fired or injuring them enough that they couldn't work he decided to perform cursory surveillance of the Foxhole's servants so that he could select the person the most deserving of having a calamity befall them. He may kill people for a living but he wasn't completely without morals.

On the third day of surveillance he found his target. He saw a big kitchen hand named Hawking smack his cowering dog, taking out his anger on a helpless creature. Later that night Hawking fell down his stairs, breaking both his legs. Meanwhile, his dog mysteriously went missing.

Back in his attic lair Nathaniel surveyed the dog with not a little consternation. She was an ugly little thing of indeterminate breed that stood about knee-high to him and was mostly yellow with floppy ears and a stubby tail. She flinched when he moved too quickly, winced if he raised his hand, and shivered at loud noises.

"Your owner really was a piece of shit, huh?" he said, feeding her a piece of dried meat. She licked his fingers, looking for more. "I'm not quite sure what to do with you, though." His trainers had always claimed that Nathaniel acted rashly without thinking things through. He hated when he proved them right.

"You know," he continued, "you're the second guard dog I've met this week." He scratched behind her ears. "You even have the same colour hair. You're smaller than he is, though. Heh. You're a mini-Minyard. Do you think I could bribe him with jerky, too?" She stared at him blankly. "Yeah, he made the same expression when I told him a joke. The two of you would make a good pair." Her ears perked up so he fed her another piece of meat. He perked up, too, when he registered what he'd just said. "That's actually not a bad idea," he said. The dog cocked her head. "No, not the jerky thing," he said waving his hand. "How would you like to go live at the Foxhole Court?"

Thus, the next night while Nathaniel was walking into a local pub to enact the second phase of his plan to get hired as a servant, Andrew returned to his room to find a small, yellow dog panting happily at him. It had a bright blue ribbon tied around its neck with a note pinned to it.

Congratulations on your new job! the note read, I think you may need some help keeping intruders out of your own quarters, though. Her name is Minnie. It was signed with a crude drawing of a hand.

Nathaniel surveyed the pub and found who he was looking for. Manoeuvring carefully through the crowd he placed himself behind the large man so that he was sure to trip over him. Sure enough, as soon as he turned with his pint of beer he ran directly into Nathaniel.

"I'm so sorry," the man said instantly, patting Nathaniel as if that would dry him off. "I didn't see you there. Are you alri— Neil?" he cut himself off. "Neil Josten?"

"Matt!" Nathaniel - who was Neil now, apparently. He'd forgotten which name he'd given when he'd met Matt so he was grateful that Matt remembered - greeted him. "Long time no see!" He maintained friendships in many places that might one day prove useful and this one was about to pay dividends for him.

"What are you doing in town?" asked Matt Boyd, head chef at the Foxhole Court. He steered Neil towards the table he had claimed with his friends.

"Looking for work," said Neil ruefully as he sat amid Matt's quick introduction to his companions, all of them Matt's coworkers. "With the uprisings in Troy I decided to move somewhere safer."

"Oh my God, that's great!" exclaimed Matt. "I just found out today that I need to hire a temporary worker to replace someone who is injured."

"What a coincidence," said Neil with wide eyes. "I would be happy to take the job but I don't want you to get in trouble for hiring a friend."

"No, no," said Matt. "You'd be doing me a favour, really. Right?" he asked the woman beside him, who had introduced herself as Dan. She was the Foxhole's seneschal.

"It would be much easier if we could fill the position quickly and without fuss," she admitted. "You'll vouch for him?" she double checked with Matt. "Sir Wymack said we couldn't hire any strangers due to our new guest." She gave Matt a look heavy with meaning. Kevin's stay at the Foxhole wasn't yet common knowledge.

"Me and Neil go way back," said Matt happily.

"Then you're hired," said Dan. "Come by tomorrow at seven sharp. You'll be a day worker, not a resident like us."

"That's amazing," said Neil, infusing his tone with awe. "Wow, I'm so glad you spilled your beer all over me!"

"A happy accident," said Matt.

"Yes it was," replied Neil. He leaned forward over the table. "So," he said nonchalantly, "tell me all about the job and the people I'll be serving."

Neil showed up for duty bright and early the next morning. He'd worked in kitchens during assignments before so he knew that seven was actually a late start for him; the baker would have been here for hours already. He was grateful and he hoped his hours wouldn't change. This way he could get a couple hours of sleep between whatever nighttime shenanigans he got up to and reporting for duty.

The work was fairly standard and he picked it up quickly. Matt was helpful and enthusiastic, praising Neil repeatedly.

"Way to go, good job," he'd say when Neil had done nothing more than not been completely incompetent. Either he was ridiculously easy to impress or he'd only worked with morons. Or maybe he was just a genuinely kind person, something which Neil had never previously encountered and was not convinced existed.

It made Neil's morning pass by quickly and painlessly. Perhaps he should suggest that Ichirou try positive feedback? If he were regularly praised maybe he'd spend less time plotting the Moriyamas' demise.

Just before lunch, Dan entered the kitchen looking like she had an actual thundercloud above her head. "The Prince's Bodyguard is demanding that you provide a food tester at all The Prince's meals," she spat out. Neil was impressed that the capital letters were audible.

"Is Minyard insinuating that I'd poison Prince Kevin?" demanded Matt. "I mean, he probably deserves it as long as it isn't fatal but I'd never do that!"

"Apparently that assassin came back," sighed Dan. "He left a dog in Minyard's room."

"A dog?" asked Matt in confusion.

"Yeah, I don't know," said Dan helplessly. "Renee's of the opinion that it's no big deal but Kevin thinks that the dog's been trained to attack him."

"What does that have to do with my food?" wondered Matt.

"Andrew says that while he's guarding Kevin's chambers the assassin could get into other places in the court. We need a food tester to ensure that the food's untainted."

"I'll do it," offered Neil. "What?" he asked when they turned twin shocked glances in his direction. "I've seen everything that went into the meal; I know it's fine." Plus it would give him a chance to unobtrusively listen in on Kevin's conversations at meal times.

"Well it would certainly stop an argument if you volunteered…" said Dan.

"Neil, you don't have to do this," said Matt. "It's not why we offered you the job."

"I know," said Neil with a shrug. "But anything to help our royalty, right?"

That was how Neil found himself standing motionlessly by the wall as the court's residents filed in for lunch. He'd forgotten how easily he was overlooked when everyone thought he was a servant and how freeing it was to be practically invisible. From here he could listen in and no one would suspect a thing, no one would notice him, no one would— Andrew Minyard was staring straight at him. Huh, he thought wryly, that puts a kink in my plans.

He couldn't believe that he'd somehow managed to blow his cover so quickly. He was supposed to be an expert at this. Even though he wished for some magical way to change his eye colour he knew to keep his gaze lowered in order to make his blue eyes less noticeable. Every morning he disguised his facial scars with powder that matched his skin tone and he combed coloured wax through his curls to darken his auburn hair. He stood differently, too, his shoulders slumped and his posture looser. No one had ever seen through his disguise before.

He probably deserved some kind of punishment; not Moriyama-style punishment which would involve dismemberment, but maybe something to shame him. Like a pillow embroidered with the words WORST SPY EVER. Or a dunce cap. Yes, that would work: a tall conical hat with BAD SPY written on it. On second thought he decided not to mention that idea to Ichirou; he'd probably make Neil wear the hat around Riko.

Not being an amateur, he didn't running screaming from the room as soon as he'd been made. He glanced again at Andrew who was now looking down at his plate with a slight blush dusting his cheekbones. Renee was looking between Andrew and Neil, realization and amusement blooming on her face as she caught Neil's eye. She clearly knew who Neil was but Andrew's behaviour indicated that he didn't.

Neil replayed the last few minutes in his head. In his worry he hadn't realized that Andrew hadn't been looking at him with suspicion or recognition. He had been staring at Neil with interest.

Andrew Minyard, the man who stood between Nathaniel and Kevin was attracted to Nathaniel's undercover identity.

Neil suppressed an incredulous chuckle. I can work with this, he thought.

Nathaniel soundlessly pulled himself onto the railing of the balcony. Andrew was standing on the far side, facing in the other direction.

"I know you're there," he said without turning.

"Seriously?" said Nathaniel. "Tell me the truth: have you been saying that at random intervals on the off chance that I was sneaking around behind you?" Andrew didn't answer which Nathaniel took for confirmation. "I knew it. And you're still not even looking at me! What if I decided to throw a knife into your back?"

"Renee says that your assassinations don't have any collateral damage." Andrew did turn to look at him then. "She also says that she doesn't believe you're planning on killing Kevin."

"I'm not," confirmed Nathaniel. "All I want to do is stalk him a little. You know: read his mail, follow him around, keep him on edge… soooo are you going to let me?"

"No."

"Is that a hard no? Or are you going to give in if I keep getting you awesome presents? I've got some beef jerky with your name on it."

"Stay out of my room," said Andrew.

"Only if you can say with one hundred percent honesty that if you knew where I was staying you wouldn't break in and go through my stuff." Nathaniel paused but Andrew didn't say anything. "Ha, thought so," he said smugly.

"Where did you even get that dog?"

"Excuse you, she has a name," said Nathaniel. "And I liberated her from her former owner because he was an asshole who hits dogs. Now, truthfully: how scared is Kevin of the dog? Very or extremely?"

"You keep asking for truth without giving any in return."

"I haven't told you a lie," said Nathaniel. That was probably splitting hairs since during the day he was lying about his identity to everyone, but he hadn't actually told Andrew anything directly untrue yet.

"Why did you give me the dog?"

"My lifestyle of travelling around and sneaking into places isn't exactly conducive to having a pet."

"But why me? For all you know I'm also violent to animals."

"Nah," said Nathaniel confidently. "I'm an excellent judge of character."

"Yet you work willingly for the Moriyamas."

"Ha," said Nathaniel. He brought his hands up to make large exaggerated air quotes. "'Willingly'. Sure."

Andrew's gaze sharpened.

"Here's a truth for you: Kevin's not the only one they own," said Nathaniel. "Hey, we could make a deal? Every time I tell you something true you could bring me a piece of Kevin's mail? I stay out of your room for a week and you let me eavesdrop on one of his conversations?"

"No," said Andrew but his face had a slight cast of amusement.

"Oh, well, I tried," sighed Nathaniel. "I guess we'll just have to keep doing this the hard way."

"I have a feeling that when you're involved every way is the hard way."

"My dear Mr. Minyard was that innuendo?" gasped Nathaniel.

"No."

"Well as much fun as this has been Andrew— may I call you Andrew?"

"No."

"Wait, really?"

"You can call me Andrew when you tell me your name, Left Hand."

"I can see how calling me that would get awkward," said Nathaniel. "Unfortunately the Moriyamas have this whole thing where they believe that a symbol is scarier than a man so they stripped me of my name when I entered into their service."

"But you had a name before."

"I did," said Nathaniel. "And I could tell you what it is…" he paused long enough that Andrew rolled his eyes, clearly aware of what was coming, "but then I'd have to kill you!" He winked and swung down off the balcony, disappearing into the night.

Neil wasn't sure what he was going to do about Andrew's attraction to him. He didn't want to encourage Andrew to actually develop feelings for him, that would just be cruel. What he wanted was for Andrew to be slightly distracted by a harmless flirtation with someone he found aesthetically pleasing.

Nathaniel's nighttime escapades were designed to keep Andrew occupied and focused on the spy in front of him and not thinking about where else spies could be situated; Neil was supposed to be beneath his notice. Now that Neil had mistakenly gotten Andrew's attention, he needed to ensure that Andrew never connected him with Nathaniel despite their similar physical attributes. That meant he certainly couldn't act like himself.

Although Andrew continued to surreptitiously watch Neil with appreciation, he never made a move. That meant that it was up to Neil to progress their relationship to speaking and then to flirting.

The problem was that for all that he frequently had to ingratiate himself with others he was never sure why or how other people liked him. For instance he had no idea how he'd become friends with Matt. As far as he could tell Matt took one look at him and thought, Yes. He is my new best friend.

"Matt?" he said tentatively. "How do you get someone to like you?"

"Just be yourself, little buddy," replied Matt.

"Historically that hasn't worked for me," said Neil.

"Why not? You're awesome!"

"That seems to be a minority opinion."

Matt peered at Neil closely. "Do you have your eye on someone specific that you want to like you?" he asked, elbowing Neil and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Yes," said Neil shyly. He wasn't quite sure why he was blushing, it wasn't like he was confessing a real crush. "Andrew Minyard."

Matt's eyebrows almost flew off his forehead they raised so fast. "Andrew Minyard? Tiny, grumpy, no-emotions Andrew Minyard?"

"Yeah," sighed Neil. "He's just so…"

"Blank yet stabby?" suggested Matt, then waved his hand dismissively. "No, no, I understand. We can't control who we're attracted to."

"I just want to get to know him," said Neil. "He seems like he's interesting."

Matt made a thoughtful face. "I'm not sure what to tell you. I know he's friends with Renee, I can ask her if you might have a chance. And I'm pretty friendly with his cousin, I'll talk to him."

"Would you? That's great, thanks Matt."

"Hey, anything for you," said Matt with a grin.

Later that day Renee approached him, Minnie the dog following close at her heels. Minnie yipped in excitement to see Neil, circling his feet while her whole body wiggled from the force of her wagging tail.

"That's strange," drawled Renee. "It seems that Andrew's new dog recognizes you."

"I have never seen this dog before in my life," declared Neil, bending down to stroke her. "She must smell the food from the kitchen on me."

"That must be it," said Renee. "I don't think we've met. You're Neil, right? The new kitchen hand and food tester?"

"That's me," said Neil shooting her a flat look. "And I believe you're Lady Walker?" Her occupation as spymaster was not common knowledge in the court, much like almost nobody knew that Nathaniel was Lord Ichirou's Left Hand.

"I am," she said. There was a twinkle in her eye that he absolutely didn't trust. "I've just come from speaking with Matt."

"Already?" said Neil in surprise. "That was fast."

"I've found that nothing moves quite so quickly as gossip," she replied. "As you know, Andrew is my friend—"

"And I suppose you're here to warn me away from him? Or tell me that if I hurt him you'll hurt me?"

"Nothing of the sort," said Renee. "Andrew is more than capable of meting out justice to those who wrong him. I'm here to help you."

"To what now?" he sputtered in surprise. "You want to help me— me, Neil Josten, completely trustworthy and real individual— seduce your friend?"

"Yes."

"Why?" he demanded.

"I think that you both deserve it."

"Has he done something horrible?"

"No."

"Have you forgotten that I'm, at best, a mediocre person who is lying about my identity?"

"That doesn't mean you don't deserve nice things, Neil," said Renee with a slight edge in her voice.

"I'm going to tell him that you called him nice."

"Good things, then," she amended. "Now are you going to listen to my advice or not?"

"Hit me. Not literally."

"First of all, he appreciates honesty—"

"Pass," said Neil. "That one's right out. What's next?"

"He's both blunt and direct and doesn't like it when other people aren't."

"I got that. He also doesn't have a sense of humour."

"And he likes a challenge, so play hard-to-get."

"Pretend to be super oblivious to his advances, check." He watched her for a couple beats. "What are you getting out of this?" he asked.

She smiled. "Entertainment. Sometimes it's boring being the spymaster of a mostly peaceful place."

"What the hell are these?" Nathaniel demanded, waving a fistful of letters that he'd found tied to the balcony waiting for him.

"You expressed a desire to read Kevin's correspondence," said Andrew blandly.

"This isn't correspondence, this is trite drivel."

"Those are drafts of Kevin's letters to his betrothed, Lady Muldani. You did not specify which mail you wanted to read." Andrew looked smug at having stymied him.

"Oh, you think you're so clever," groused Nathaniel. "This one begins, 'My beloved raven-haired Enchantress, my loins miss you,' and it gets worse from there."

"I wouldn't know," said Andrew. "I was taught that it's rude to read other people's mail."

"Well pardon me for being raised by psychopaths," said Nathaniel loftily. He tossed the bundle of paper at Andrew's feet. "Anyway, I made edits so could you make sure that those get returned to Kevin?"

"You… what?"

"They were really poorly written," said Nathaniel. "So I edited them, added some constructive criticism and feedback. As a prince Kevin probably doesn't get enough criticism so I figured I'd help him out. Oh, and if you check out the top page there, I wrote you a poem to thank you for bringing me the letters I asked for. I rhymed 'fair' with 'sun-haired'. It's pretty good if I do say so myself."

Andrew looked from the atrocious poem to Nathaniel. "You're proud of yourself, aren't you?"

"Usually," said Nathaniel blithely. "Until next time!"

By now it seemed that everyone in the Foxhole Court was aware that the new kitchen hand had a thing for Andrew Minyard and every single one of them had an opinion about it. For some reason that Neil couldn't fathom, a lot of these people seemed to think that he wanted to hear their views about how Andrew was joyless and violent and that Neil was crazy for thinking favourably about him. Neil bluntly and directly told these people exactly what he thought of their opinions. Soon it was commonly agreed that although Neil may seem shy and quiet he had a sharp tongue and the ability to make stinging comments.

Neil also received well-meaning advice from some, including Andrew's cousin, but it was all either so vague or it conflicted with what he already knew about Andrew that he was forced to come to the conclusion that none of these people knew very much about Andrew at all.

"I hear you've been getting into fights about me," said Andrew one day, idly leaning against the wall of a corridor as Neil passed through while going about his duties.

"If you consider loudly telling assholes that they're wrong fights, then yes," replied Neil, consciously making sure to use his regular voice, not his growly spy voice.

"I do not need you to defend me or try to change my reputation."

"Your reputation is that you're terrifying and emotionless. That seems like a good reputation for a bodyguard to have; why would I want to change it?" wondered Neil.

"Why are you discussing me anyway?"

Neil shrugged and creased his brow in confusion. "I don't know," he said. "All I did was tell Matt that you seemed interesting and I'd like to get to know you and then suddenly everybody started coming up to me to tell me why that was a bad idea."

"So you started arguing with them."

Neil smiled ruefully. "Fastest way to get me to do something is to tell me I can't," he said. "I'm a little contrary."

"And what is it exactly that you want from me?"

"Just to get to know you," said Neil. "Or nothing, if you aren't willing to let me."

"Hmm," replied Andrew, watching Neil searchingly. Neil gazed back, making his eyes big and guileless so that they had nothing in common with Nathaniel's eyes save the colour. "I'll consider it," Andrew eventually said, before spinning on his heel and leaving the hallway.

In Minyard-speak that was practically an offer of engagement so Neil was left feeling pretty confident about his chances.

Nathaniel was up a tree at the corner of the Foxhole grounds planning that night's incursion and inevitable meeting with Andrew. He smiled to himself as he contemplated all the ways he could irritate the other man and get his notice.

Movement caught his attention and he watched as a small, black-clad figure stole across the courtyard and started climbing the outer wall of the court. It wasn't Renee - he could recognize her easily - it was someone else. It was someone else trying to infiltrate Nathaniel's territory. Well, not territory, exactly. But still. He was the only enemy spy allowed here.

He stealthily followed the other spy's progress, keeping out of sight. When she reached to crack open a window he threw a knife. It stuck into the wood of the windowsill, less than an inch from her hand.

"Hello," he said with a wave when she whirled to find who had thrown the knife. "Whatcha doing?"

"Who are you?" she asked suspiciously.

"I am the Left Hand of Ichirou Moriyama and I asked you a question," he replied, distinctly threatening.

"I was sent to dispose of Kevin Day."

"Wrong answer," he growled, advancing on her.

She pulled the knife out of the windowsill and dropped into a defense stance. "Why? The Moriyamas should be glad to be rid of him. You should be thanking me."

"The plans of the Moriyamas are not for you to know or understand," he said. "You came here tonight to hurt the people of the Foxhole Court and for that I will make you pay."

About an hour later he climbed through Renee's open window. "I'm really mad at you," he said.

"What have I done now?" she asked, turning towards him.

"Couldn't you even flinch just a little? I swear I am sick and tired of you and Andrew not reacting appropriately when I appear from nowhere."

"And that's why you're mad?" she said. Her eyes caught sight of his arm and narrowed. "You're bleeding."

"That's why I'm mad," he complained. "Your court has an assassin infestation. And I don't mean me."

"Someone got the jump on you?" she asked incredulously.

"No," he replied. "I caught Leverett breaking in so I stopped her. She got in a lucky swipe."

"...Why?"

"I just said it was lucky, I can't explain it."

"No, why did you stop her? That's not your job."

Nathaniel shrugged helplessly. "It was Leverett. You know the kind of collateral damage she causes. She would have tried to kill anyone between her and Kevin."

"Like Andrew," murmured Renee in understanding.

"I've been desensitizing him for months," said Nathaniel. "He's expecting me, not someone actually hostile."

Renee shook her head fondly. "He can take care of himself. Come here and I'll bandage your arm."

"I'd prefer if you did your job and kept the rats out of your court," he groused, but let her tend to his wound. "Except me, of course."

"Of course," agreed Renee. "What did you do with Leverett, anyway?"

Nathaniel just smiled the cruel smile he had inherited from his father.

When Andrew returned to his rooms later that evening he found a bound and gagged woman who was spitting mad. On her head a badly made paper cone had been tied. It had the words BAD ASSASSIN scribbled across it in writing that had become familiar to him as of late. He didn't need the drawing of a hand to know who had left her here.

The fact that it made him want to smile was a problem.

"Neil, I hate to ask but can you please take Kevin's tray up to him?" asked Matt, sounding harried. In the three days since a would-be assassin claimed that it was the Left Hand of the Moriyamas who had left her in Andrew's quarters, Kevin hadn't emerged from his own rooms. He was convinced that the only reason that the Moriyamas would step in to stop someone from killing him was if they had something much worse for him in store and had started hiding where he felt safe.

It was the second time that Nathaniel's fun gifts for Andrew had unexpectedly terrified Kevin. He hadn't planned it, but it was a nice side effect. As long as Kevin was scared he wasn't going to do something that would make Ichirou demand that Nathaniel kill him.

However, Kevin hiding meant more work for the kitchen staff and it meant that Neil hadn't seen Andrew for a couple days.

Usually Andrew tracked him down a couple times a week to have cryptic conversations. He had begun dropping numerous hints that he was sexually interested in him but Neil - following Renee's advice - was pretending that he didn't notice any of them. It was amusing to watch Andrew's well-concealed frustration grow and he was grateful that Renee had provided another way to annoy him.

"Yeah, no problem, Matt," said Neil, feeling strangely lighter now that he knew he'd be seeing Andrew soon.

He trudged up the stairs, balancing a heavy tray carefully. Just as he reached Kevin's floor, a servant hurrying down the stairs knocked into him, spilling the scalding soup and kettle of boiling water all over Neil.

"Fuck, ow," swore Neil, ducking into the nearest room to get his shirt off as quickly as possible. He looked forlornly at his sodden and food-covered tunic. He really didn't want to put it back on but he couldn't walk shirtless through the court. This was the worst. Even though Matt would probably have something he could wear once he got back to the kitchen, he'd still have to remake Kevin's lunch and bring it to him. Knowing Kevin, he would probably bitch to Neil about it being late which, in his current mood, would result in Neil killing him. That would make Andrew angry and would render Neil's recent measures to save Kevin's life moot.

"That was graceful. Are you alri—" Andrew said while opening the door, cutting himself off to stare at Neil's naked chest. He closed the door behind him and took a couple steps closer. "You're injured."

"Oh, yeah," said Neil looking down at his bandaged arm. His wound was certainly suspicious, especially coupled with the many scars his life had afforded him that his clothes usually hid. "I work in the kitchen."

"That doesn't explain a cut there."

"It does if you happened to be demonstrating your baton-twirling abilities with a knife," Neil invented.

"Baton-twirling abilities?" asked Andrew, inexorably moving towards Neil as if drawn to him.

"It turns out they're subpar," joked Neil weakly.

"Someone stabbed you," said Andrew, nodding to a particularly ugly puncture wound on Neil's upper chest.

The majority of Neil's scars were caused by knives (although he had his fair share of burns, too) but they were mostly slashes. Deep slashes, yes, but nothing that compared to the knot of scar tissue that had resulted from being stabbed followed by having the wound cauterized. It had been pure luck that the knife had missed both his heart and his lungs.

"My father was not a nice man."

Andrew reached for Neil but stopping short of touching him.

Pretend not to notice the sexual tension, Neil told himself. This was just two dudes being bros, one of them reaching out to touch the other's naked chest. Totally platonically.

"You can touch," said Neil without any suggestiveness.

Andrew's quickly-hidden incredulous look for Neil's obtuseness was a thing of beauty.

Nathaniel had made it almost all the way to Kevin's rooms when he hesitated. He'd never made it this far before without Andrew catching up with him. He wondered where Andrew was. Maybe he was sick? There had been a flu going around the court, maybe he'd come down with it? Maybe he'd passed out on his rounds and was lying somewhere helpless and alone? Nathaniel abandoned Kevin's rooms and went searching for Andrew.

He found him patrolling the grounds, near the stables. Perching near the edge of the stable roof, he called down, "Are you feeling alright?"

Andrew crossed his arms and glared up at him. "What are you doing here?"

"Like, here here, or in Palmetto here, or existentially, or…?" said Nathaniel, at a loss.

"You're supposed to be sneaking into Kevin's rooms."

"Well I was but I wondered where you were so I came to find you."

"You came to find me," repeated Andrew flatly, "instead of sneaking into the rooms you've been attempting to get into for months now?"

"I missed you," said Nathaniel flippantly.

"You know," said Andrew nonchalantly, "I set up a very elaborate trap in Kevin's rooms for you. It took me days to set up. When you opened the letter on his desk you were going to get a faceful of ink. There are noisemakers hidden under most surfaces and a bucket of confetti is perched on top of the door waiting to fall on you."

Neil placed a hand over his heart. "You did that? For me? Are you trying to court me, Mr. Minyard?"

"No," snorted Andrew. "I'm… otherwise engaged."

"Ah, yes, with the bland serving boy," said Nathaniel derisively. "You really prefer him to me?" He felt unaccountably put out, despite the fact that the bland serving boy was him, albeit a sanitized, slightly-inauthentic version of him.

"He doesn't work for my enemies."

"Alas, I suppose it can never be."

"Not unless you drastically change your career."

"Admit it, though: I've grown on you," said Nathaniel.

"Do you know what else grows on people, uninvited and unasked for? Boils."

Andrew tuned out the droning of the meeting that Kevin had forced him to sit in on. Ever since ol' Lefty (Andrew really needed something better to call the Moriyamas' spy) had caught and gifted Andrew with an assassin Kevin had been more anxious and demanding than usual, not willing to be out of Andrew's direct line of sight unless he was in his own rooms under guard.

Andrew had tried to get out of having to come to this meeting (it was a planning session for the upcoming annual Winter Banquet) arguing that an assassin wasn't going to attack Kevin when he was surrounded, especially since both Wymack and Renee were present, but Kevin had been adamant that he attend. That left Andrew with nothing to do but stare into space and let his mind wander. Inevitably it wandered to Neil.

Andrew was not quite sure how he felt about Neil. Sure, the man was far and away the best prospect Andrew had come across, maybe ever. He was distractingly attractive and seemed interested in Andrew, but there was something a little ...off about him that Andrew couldn't quite put his finger on. Sometimes Neil didn't seem real, as if he were a watered-down facsimile of someone else. He showed occasional flashes of being interesting but he also seemed to choose his words carefully and only say what he thought Andrew wanted to hear.

Plus, despite the fact that'd he'd expressed interest in Andrew first, he was so oblivious to Andrew's hints that Andrew wanted to sit him down, explain exactly what he wanted to do to him in graphic detail, and see if he was amenable.

His cousin Nicky was convinced that Andrew was self-sabotaging; that he was finally on the cusp of something good and didn't believe he deserved it. That all his issues with Neil were nothing more than his overactive imagination throwing up roadblocks.

So Andrew had decided to move forward with Neil. It wasn't like he had any other offers anyway.

He did not, he told himself sharply, ignoring the memory of amused, intelligent blue eyes that flashed through his mind; so similar in colour yet so different in expression from Neil's own. Going down that road really was self-sabotage. That Spy was firmly entrenched with the Moriyamas; they would always be enemies. Andrew just wished that the man could have stayed a shadowy figure in the dark instead of becoming someone that he anticipated seeing. Or he wished that Neil could display even a tenth of the personality of Andrew's own pain-in-the-ass nighttime visitor.

He snorted to himself. That Spy would appreciate the accidental innuendo; Neil wouldn't even notice it.

If he was wishing for impossible things he may as well wish that the two imperfect guys that currently had his attention could be melded into one man who was exactly his type.

When the interminable meeting finally ended he escorted Kevin back to his rooms and left two palace guards guarding the doors. Kevin wasn't thrilled about it but he couldn't actually demand that Andrew work twenty-four hours a day.

Andrew went to search for Neil. He found him ferrying a tray to the kitchen, The Dog trotting dutifully at his heels. Andrew refused to call The Dog by the name provided by That Spy. He also refused to admit that she was his dog as opposed to a dog (that he happened to look after).

Neil smiled sunnily when he caught sight of Andrew. That was another point in his favour: ever since they'd first met he'd always seemed genuinely happy to see Andrew, a reaction that confused him to no end.

"She's scared of most people," Andrew said, inclining his head toward The Dog. She really only seemed to trust him and Renee which was the only reason - the only one, shut up Renee - that Andrew hadn't gotten rid of her.

"I think I've dropped enough table scraps that she sees me as a food source," said Neil easily. "What are you doing here? Matt said that everyone was stuck in meetings all day."

"They wrapped up," said Andrew. He made a decision. "They were discussing the Winter Banquet, an annual ball that's held here."

"Yeah, Matt told me all about it. He's really excited."

"I was wondering if you'd like to go," said Andrew stiltedly. "With me. As a date." Neil couldn't possibly misinterpret that, could he?

He could have sworn that something like disappointment flashed across Neil's face before he smiled again. "Of course I would," he said.

"I'll have to stay near Kevin all evening," Andrew warned.

"That's okay," said Neil. "I'll enjoy spending time with you no matter what we're doing."

Andrew was still wondering about the disappointment he'd thought he'd seen (had he imagined it?) when he took The Dog out for her evening exercise. She usually stuck close to him, tentatively sniffing things as if they may jump up and attack her. They hadn't been outside long when she perked up and took off sprinting. She circled the base of a tree and jumped up against the trunk, her claws scrabbling against the bark.

"You know," said the tree's upper branches, "in retrospect giving you a dog that recognizes my scent was maybe not my smartest plan."

Andrew pinched the bridge of his nose. "What are you doing in the tree?" he asked.

"Sitting, mostly," said That Spy. "Plotting. You know: spy stuff." He cleared his throat. "Can you close your eyes real quick while I get out of the tree and stealthily vanish into the night?"

"Why?"

"My descent is unlikely to be graceful," said That Spy. "I wouldn't want to ruin your impression that I'm a suave man of mystery."

Andrew refused to be amused or charmed. It was strange how at ease he felt with a known armed enemy in a superior position. Not because he thought That Spy was harmless - no, Andrew had seen the genuine terror on Kevin's face when speaking of the Left Hand and he knew enough of the man's skills to know that he could kill efficiently and ruthlessly - but because Andrew believed him when he'd told Andrew that he wasn't there to kill anyone. In fact, if he thought about it, he realized that he believed everything That Spy had ever told him and that he more or less trusted him to keep his word.

That thought chilled him to the bone. He couldn't afford to make mistakes, and allowing That Spy to worm his way past Andrew's defenses wouldn't be a mistake: it'd be a catastrophe.

Despite the fact that Nathaniel had been in Palmetto for several months now, Ichirou still expected him to fulfill his duties as spymaster. That meant distilling all the reports that Nathaniel received from his many contacts in one dispatch that was written in an obscure cipher and sent to Ichirou by raven.

Nathaniel had set up multiple dead drops around Palmetto that he checked daily for new messages. Finding a scroll with nothing but a Hatford coat of arms and a location made his stomach drop into his knees. He had been both anticipating and dreading this message.

The address was for the most expensive inn in a town that was at least three hours away on horseback; he left directly after Neil finished his daily shift. He spent most of his journey in a bad mood, unaccountably grumpy that he was going to miss his regular nighttime run-in with Andrew.

Once he arrived, he performed cursory surveillance of the inn before stealthily infiltrating the best room and waiting menacingly in the dark.

Eventually a man bustled in and lit the lamps.

"Hello, Uncle," said Nathaniel.

"Jesus Fucking Christ," the man cried, jumping a foot straight into the air and clutching his chest.

"Thank you," said Nathaniel. "That is the proper response to me sneaking up on you. I was beginning to think that I'd lost my touch."

"Goddammit Nathaniel, you little spook," groused his uncle. "I'm not as young as I once was; you're going to make my heart give out."

"You're the one who summoned me; you really should have been expecting me."

His uncle just shook his head and poured himself a large glass of brandy. "Your father is dead," he said without preamble.

Nathaniel's breath caught. "And Lola? I told you it won't work if you don't also get Lola; she's Kengo's Left Hand." It had taken Nathaniel a lot of time and nearly all his cunning to discover the identity of the current High Lord's Left Hand. She had cleverly obscured her real role by pretending to be one of the Right Hand's subordinates.

"She's dead, too," said his uncle calmly. "As we speak, our forces are on the move while the Trojans continue to cause distractions in the west. We should be ready to take Evermore within the fortnight."

"You have to hurry," urged Nathaniel. "The second that Ichirou receives any intelligence about your whereabouts he'll know that I've been withholding information. Then I won't have free reign of the fortress to open the gates for you. And you will never successfully lay siege to Castle Evermore."

"You let us worry about that," said his uncle. "You should head back to Evermore so that you're in position for our signal."

"In a few days," said Nathaniel. "After Palmetto's Winter Banquet."

His uncle gave him a strange look. "Why wait? You don't need to finish your current assignment. In two weeks we'll either be dead or we'll have disposed of the Moriyamas. Then you'll have more important things to do than spy on Kevin Day."

"You're assuming that I'll be working for you but that is not what we agreed," said Nathaniel harshly. "I help you destroy the Moriyamas and I'm free. I'm not your property; I will go where I decide and do what I want."

His uncle held up his hands in surrender. "I know, I know," he said hastily. "And if you want to waste your hard-earned talents by farming cabbages no one's going to stop you. But you know no other life than this. You have no friends, no one who knows who you actually are. Where would you even go?"

"I have friends."

"Your cover identities have friends," corrected his uncle. "Would they still want and accept you once they know who you are and what you've done?" Nathaniel didn't answer and his face softened. "Being a spy is a lonely life, I know. But it's what you were made for."

"I once killed a man with a pen," said Nathaniel.

His uncle shook his head in confusion at Nathaniel's apparent non-sequitur, brow furrowed.

"That pen was made to write with," explained Nathaniel. "You don't always have to do what you were made for."

As Nathaniel made preparations to leave following the Winter Banquet he was less excited than he had always envisioned. The clandestine plans to overthrow the Moriyamas had been years in the making and were the only way to ensure his freedom but he found himself strangely reluctant to leave Palmetto. He would miss being Neil. He'd miss Matt and Dan and Renee and his other friends at the court. And he would miss his nightly encounters with Andrew.

The day of the Winter Banquet was a whirlwind; the kitchen staff were all in a tizzy making sure that everything was prepared for that evening so that they could relax and enjoy the party. Neil ended up having to stay late to help Matt with some last minute tasks. Then he had to hurry to his lair to get ready.

He re-applied his hair wax and his face powder to cover his scars and dressed carefully. The clothing he had purchased was actually far too expensive for Neil to afford on his servant's salary but Andrew's cousin Nicky had assured him that it would impress Andrew.

Back at the Foxhole Court, Kevin was waiting at the entrance to the ballroom to greet the guests, Andrew at his side. Andrew came forward to greet Neil, his gaze appreciative.

Neil felt a little stab of ...jealousy? was it jealousy? (which was absurd; how could he be jealous of himself?) just as he had when Andrew had asked him to the ball. He wanted Andrew to want real-him, not Neil-him. He quickly shook it off and smiled at Andrew.

"You look nice," he said truthfully. Andrew had forgone his usual black ensemble and was dressed in dark blue.

"Likewise," replied Andrew.

"Andrew," said Kevin sharply. "Stop mooning over your date and keep your eyes peeled. With all these people milling about the assassin could be anywhere. You'll never spot him if you don't stop looking at…" he trailed off and squinted at Neil.

"Neil," he supplied, appreciating the irony. "Pleasure to meet you, your majesty. And I highly doubt that anyone would risk an assassination attempt with all this security unless they didn't mind being caught. You should relax and enjoy yourself."

Kevin sneered. "You have no idea what you're talking about but I suppose Andrew finds your ignorance endearing." He went to greet another guest.

Neil turned to Andrew. "Wow, that was practically polite for Kevin," he said. "Is he putting in extra effort to be nice to your date?"

A wrinkle appeared between Andrew's eyebrows and Neil realized that his statement had been a little too Nathanielesque. "Anyway," he continued, "I have insider information about which of the appetizers are delicious and which were mistakenly dropped on the floor. Shall I go load up a plate for us to share?"

Kevin's anxieties didn't leave Andrew a lot of time for Neil but they were able to have several quick verbal exchanges. Neil spent most of his time speaking with Matt and bringing Andrew food. Renee came over to him once to make some sly comments and to ask him what he thought of the potential for spies to infiltrate the ball. All in all, he passed a fairly enjoyable evening.

As some of the guests started to leave Andrew tracked him down. "Kevin wants to return to his rooms," he said. "If you accompany me we can spend time together once he's safely locked inside."

"Alright," said Neil, heading back over to where Kevin was impatiently waiting. He amused himself by picturing Kevin's reaction to finding out that the man he was so terrified of was currently escorting him back to his chambers. He was kind of sad that there wasn't going to be some big reveal about his true identity: Kevin's facial expression would have been hilarious.

Once Kevin had retired for the night and Andrew had given the guards instructions, he led Neil out onto the balcony that had been the scene of their earliest meeting. Neil couldn't help feeling nostalgic knowing that his time here was almost at an end.

"What's wrong?" asked Andrew. "You seem sad."

"I was wishing that circumstances could be different," said Neil. He waved off Andrew's puzzled expression, "Don't mind me, I'm just being maudlin." Then, to lighten the mood, he joked, "That was the truth, however depressing. You owe me one of Kevin's letters."

Andrew's face shuttered completely and Neil let his eyes fall closed at his own stupidity.

"I don't suppose you'll forget I said that?" he tried.

Andrew wore no expression. "The blue eyes, and the scars on your chest, and the fact that the dog likes you, and tonight you insulted Kevin like no servant ever would in my hearing… I should have known."

"Don't feel too badly," said Neil, taking a couple measured steps away from him. "I'm very good at what I do."

Andrew circled in order to block Neil's path back to Kevin. "And what was this?" he asked, flicking his finger between them. "Amusement?"

"It's just what I said it was: I wanted to get to know you."

"To get to Kevin?"

"There are much easier ways to get to Kevin," said Neil. "It was real for me. The only thing I did for amusement was pretend not to understand your advances."

"You'll notice I'm not laughing."

"Don't be hurt," said Neil. "If you think about it, I actually lied to you very little."

"I find that hard to believe, Neil."

"With a couple large exceptions," Neil allowed. "Like my actual identity."

Andrew's eyes narrowed. "Why'd you give me the dog?"

"Why is it so hard for you to believe that I thought you'd give her a good home?" asked Neil in exasperation. "Also, I had a nascent plan where I was going to start making a lot of puns about hounding, but I forgot about that until now, so…"

"And how'd you get the cut on your arm? It wasn't juggling knives."

"I'll admit that was one of my weaker cover stories. It was a lucky swipe from the bad assassin."

They stared at each other, both unmoving. "You have ten seconds to leave," said Andrew in a low voice.

"I've been called back to Evermore," said Neil, a lump in his throat. "Kevin can relax now that I'm not lurking around anymore."

"Why should I believe a single thing you say?"

"You are one of the only people who I think actually knows me. You may not trust me but you could."

"I don't even know your name."

"It's Nathaniel," said Neil. "But that's a mouthful. I prefer Neil." He smiled ruefully. "I think most people prefer Neil."

Andrew swallowed heavily. "I don't."

Neil nodded once. "Goodbye Andrew," he said, and swung himself off the balcony the same way he had the first time they'd been on it.

Well, he thought, that's the end of that.

Evermore was in chaos. Hatford affiliates were everywhere battling with Moriyama loyalists. Neil had done his job when he'd gotten the signal; he'd opened Evermore's gates to let in the Hatfords. There was only a small garrison at Evermore as the bulk of the Moriyama forces had been sent with the Butcher. They were completely overrun.

Neil wasn't paying attention to any of that; he was stalking his prey. Ichirou was attempting to flee the fortress, taking a little-known back route that would lead him to safety. Neil dropped down in front of him, brandishing two knives and cutting off his escape.

"You," spat Ichirou, anger cracking through his usual arrogant mask. His eyes were livid. "Traitor."

"I told you that you'd notice when I betrayed you," said Neil.

"You won't survive this," threatened Ichirou.

Neil twirled his knives. "One of us certainly won't," he said, and attacked.

Andrew headed back to his rooms, refusing to admit how monotonous he'd been finding his rounds in the two months since Neil had disappeared. Or maybe it was Nathaniel who had disappeared. Now that he knew the two men were one and the same his memories of the two of them had conflated into one man who he had to keep reminding himself that he did not miss at all.

He definitely wasn't worried about him, either. The news coming out of Evermore was that the Moriyamas and all of their affiliates had been decimated and Neil had said he was heading back there. Despite everything, Andrew believed him so it stood to reason that... Andrew shook his head in an attempt to erase his thoughts. Neil was a slippery bastard. He couldn't possibly be dead. And Andrew didn't care if he was, anyway. He certainly hadn't been relieved at all when Renee said she was sure that Neil was alive.

Walking into his chamber, he paused, a shiver running up his spine. The Dog hadn't come to greet him because she was too busy shamelessly getting her belly rubbed by That Spy.

"Traitor," said Andrew, addressing both of them.

"You can't even pretend to be surprised to see me?" asked Neil. And it was Neil. He was dressed in That Spy's customary stealth wear but he'd left off the hood and bandana. Andrew could see his facial scars clearly, his hair was more auburn than brown, he wore a smirk that Neil never would have, and his blue eyes were sharp and assessing, but he was undeniably the man who Andrew had invited to the Winter Banquet.

"Ichirou Moriyama was killed in a surprise attack," said Andrew.

"Yes."

"You'd think his spymaster should have warned him about it."

"Has it occurred to you that I'm bad at my job?" asked Neil.

"More than once."

"Little known fact about me: my mother was a Hatford," said Neil.

"All facts about you are little known facts," said Andrew. "Why are you here?"

"Ichirou is dead," said Neil. "I'm free. And Renee wrote me a letter to tell me that I was missed and that I should try my luck by returning."

"Interfering busybody," grumbled Andrew.

"I was thinking of applying for a job," said Neil thoughtfully. "I hear there's an opening in the kitchen here. I'm doing you a favour, really."

"Are you."

"Yes, apparently you'll just let anyone work at the Foxhole." He lowered his voice to an audible whisper. "Rumour is that the last guy you hired was actually an assassin."

"He was a pretty terrible assassin."

"Hey!"

"He was here for months and he managed to kill Kevin zero times."

Neil smiled. "Do you think it'll be okay? If I came back?"

"If I have to hear Boyd moan about how much he misses you one more time…"

"Really? Even though he knows who I really am?"

Andrew shrugged. "They claimed you as one of their own."

"And you? You want me to stay?"

Andrew pretended to think about it. "I have a couple of caveats," he said.

"Okay…" said Neil cautiously.

"One," said Andrew, holding up his pointer finger, "no killing Kevin."

Neil pouted. "What if he's being really condescending?"

"He will be. Still no."

"Or annoying?"

"No."

Neil sighed deeply. "Fine, I won't kill Kevin. What's next?"

"Two: no lying."

"I promise," said Neil earnestly.

"Three: no pretending to be oblivious, that was the worst."

"Oh, did that make it hard for you?" Neil winked obnoxiously.

"Better," said Andrew with a nod. "And four isn't actually a requirement, but I want to kiss you now. Yes or no?"

Neil unfolded himself from the floor and came to stand right in front of Andrew. "I thought you'd never ask," he said. "Yes."

Andrew tried to pour all his relief into seeing Neil alive, how much he had missed him, and how glad he was that Neil was going to stay into the kiss so that he would never have to admit those things out loud.

"There's still one thing I don't understand," he said when they stopped to catch their breath.

"What's that?"

"Your real personality is the one you displayed when you were breaking in at night, right?"

"Uh huh…" said Neil slowly.

"And you've been this way your whole life?"

"Yeah…"

"How have you only been stabbed once?"

"I'm quick on my feet," said Neil. "Besides, you like it."

"I admit nothing," said Andrew.

"You like me," said Neil in a sing-song voice. "You like my personality. You want to kiiiiiiss me."

This is the man you have chosen, thought Andrew ruefully. "I suddenly regret every choice in my entire life that has led me to this exact moment."

"Too late," said Neil happily. "You're stuck with me now."