One Week Ago…
The maid led us through the palace like she was escorting prisoners in nice clothes.
The corridor curved past tall windows, painted walls, and enough gold trim to pay for a small war. Soft carpet swallowed our footsteps, which should have felt classy, but only made Gabriel more suspicious. He kept glancing at every side door like a new problem might jump out and propose to me.
"Do not talk to the maids."
He said it without looking at me -- like he was too tired to waste eye contact on this warning.
The maid walking in front of us did not react, but I saw her shoulders twitch a little. She was trying not to laugh. Togashi noticed too and gave Gabriel the side-eye of a man watching a friend lose dignity in public.
"I was not going to talk to the maids."
I kept my voice low because the hallway echoed, and because I already knew this would not save me.
Gabriel stopped so suddenly I almost walked into him. He turned in the middle of the corridor with the expression of a captain delivering battlefield orders -- except the battlefield was a palace, and the enemy was my mouth.
"You almost got us sent to the east gardens by breathing near the princess."
Togashi stepped around both of us and kept walking, then tilted his head toward the maid so we would stop blocking traffic. The maid waited politely at the next turn with the same calm face, which somehow made this more embarrassing.
"No talking to maids."
He sounded calmer than Gabriel, which made it hit harder.
We started moving again, and I kept my hands where they could see them, like I was being escorted by my own party. The palace really was gorgeous up close. Blue glass lanterns hung in alcoves. The wall paintings showed winter forests and white deer. The windows looked over inner courtyards with fountains and trimmed hedges that probably had their own staff.
I tried to enjoy the view, but Gabriel was still in anti-flirting mode and treated every living woman in the building like a trap tile.
"This is getting ridiculous."
I said it quietly, mostly to myself, but both of them heard it.
Gabriel laughed once -- short and dry. It was the same laugh he used when our plan caught fire and we had to pretend it was intentional. He rubbed his forehead and kept walking, shoulders tight under his formal coat.
"Ridiculous was the princess saying your name in a throne room full of ministers."
The maid turned left into a quieter wing and stopped in front of a double door with silver handles. She bowed and opened it for us with one smooth motion, then stepped aside. Warm lamplight spilled into the hall, along with the smell of clean linen and cedar.
The room was bigger than my old apartment and way nicer than anything three field agents needed.
"We all sleep here."
Gabriel sounded offended by the luxury, which felt on brand.
Inside, three beds stood along one wall with carved headboards and thick blankets folded at the foot. A low table sat by the fireplace with a tea set already laid out. There were travel trunks, a washstand, a folding screen, and one giant window looking over the inner gardens. A second door probably led to a bathing room, which meant this palace treated guests better than most inns treated nobles.
I stepped in and looked around like a kid seeing a fairground for the first time.
"This is amazing."
The maid smiled politely and gave a tiny bow toward the wardrobe and the washroom, then toward a cord beside the fireplace. She was explaining the room services with practiced gestures and a few quiet lines in the northern court style. I only caught half of it because Gabriel moved between us like a defensive wall and started nodding too hard at everything she said.
"Thank you. Perfect. Very clear. We need nothing."
The maid blinked at him, then at me, then at Togashi.
Togashi bowed once with actual normal manners and pointed at the dinner clothes laid out on the folded chairs, then at the door, asking with gestures if dinner was soon. The maid nodded and held up four fingers, then mimed a small bell. Four quarters of an hour, maybe a little less.
"Great. Thank you."
Gabriel somehow made the words sound like a door being shut.
The maid gave one last polite smile and stepped out. She closed the doors gently behind her, and the latch clicked. The second that sound landed, Gabriel turned around and pointed at me like I had already committed a crime.
"New rule."
I dropped my bag on the nearest bed and sat because my legs were done with palace drama for one day.
"There are too many rules."
Togashi checked the door first, then the window, then the fireplace screen, doing a quick habit sweep for hidden listeners. He always does this in unfamiliar rooms. He says rich people love secrets and secret doors, and he has been right too often.
"Not too many. Not enough."
Gabriel started pacing from the fireplace to the window and back, counting on his fingers like a man writing laws in real time.
"No talking to maids, no talking to lady attendants, no talking to noble daughters, no talking to musicians, no talking to random women in hallways, no smiling if they speak first, and no being alone for any reason."
I stared at him for a long second and tried to decide if he was joking.
He was not joking.
He was fully serious, and that made it funny enough that I almost laughed.
"You cannot ban me from talking to half the palace."
Gabriel stopped pacing and looked at me with real hurt in his eyes, like I had just insulted his only coping strategy. His hair was falling out of place now, which only happened when he was exhausted or panicking.
"I can and I will."
Togashi finished his sweep, then closed the curtains halfway and sat on the bed by the wall. He pulled off one glove and pointed at me with two fingers, then pointed at his own eyes, then made a cutting motion through the air. He was building a list in gestures now.
"No eye contact."
I translated for him because I know his signs by now.
He nodded once and added another gesture -- a small open palm and a quick pull back.
"No touching."
He nodded again.
Gabriel pointed at Togashi like he had just discovered a genius.
"Exactly. No touch, no charm, no jokes, no healing, no compliments, no accidental kindness."
I leaned back on my hands and looked up at the painted ceiling because if I looked at either of them, I was going to start laughing, and they would take that personally.
"Accidental kindness is not a real category."
Gabriel put both hands on his hips and gave me the exact same look he gave me after the Eastport innkeeper's daughter called him my best man.
"It became a category because of you."
That was fair... and I hate when fair things happen to me.
I stood and started unpacking just to avoid the argument, laying out my bandages, herbs, and travel notes on the side table beside my bed. The room was quiet for a minute except for the crackle from the fireplace and the rustle of cloth while Togashi changed out of his formal coat.
Then Gabriel spotted my healing satchel, and his entire face changed again.
"Put that away before dinner."
I turned with a roll of bandage in my hand.
"It is a healing satchel."
He pointed at it like it was cursed.
"It is bait."
Togashi looked up from unlacing his bracer and actually made a tiny sound that might have been a laugh. It was barely there, but I caught it. I was keeping score now.
"It is my job."
I set the bandage down and folded my arms.
Gabriel came over and lowered his voice, which meant he was moving from dramatic to sincere. That always hit harder. He looked tired in a way that made him seem older, and for a second he was not the panicked captain. He was just my friend trying to keep the mission alive.
"Takashi, listen. I know none of this is your fault on purpose."
I did not answer right away because hearing that from him after the throne room felt weirdly nice.
He scrubbed a hand over his face and kept going.
"But we cannot lose this mission. If the treaty dies, people die. If the princess gets attached to you, the court turns into a rumor pit by midnight. If that happens, every hardliner in both kingdoms gets exactly what they want."
The humor dropped out of the room for a beat, and he was right, which made the silence heavy.
Togashi broke it by tossing me a folded palace shirt from the chair stack.
"Change."
I caught the shirt and looked at it, then at him.
"You really know how to comfort a guy."
He shrugged and started combing out his hair with his fingers, calm as ever.
"Alive first. Comfort later."
That got me smiling anyway, which earned me a glare from Gabriel because apparently smiling still counted in this room. I changed behind the folding screen while they kept arguing over shift watches and corridor routes like we were camping in enemy woods, and not sleeping in embroidered sheets.
The palace dinner clothes fit too well, which felt suspicious.
"They measured us somehow."
I came out from behind the screen adjusting the cuffs and immediately regretted saying anything because Gabriel's head snapped up like he heard a threat.
"Do not ask a maid how."
I stared at him.
"I was not going to ask anyone how my shirt got made."
He looked unconvinced, and that was honestly insulting.
Togashi finished changing and sat at the low table to review the route notes from the meeting. He always gets quiet before the second half of a mission. That is his version of stress. He reads, plans, and lets Gabriel do enough talking for both of them.
Gabriel kept pacing, then stopped and pointed at the tea set on the table.
"Also no room service."
I looked at the untouched pot and cups.
"Why."
He answered without hesitation, which meant he had already thought about this.
"Because a maid brings it."
I pressed both hands to my face for one second and breathed through my nose.
"This is not strategy. This is fear."
Gabriel folded his arms and lifted his chin.
"Correct."
That was so direct I could not even be mad.
I sat across from Togashi and tried to focus on the notes instead of Gabriel's panic spiral. The treaty schedule was tight: public appearances, private talks, priest approvals, escort coordination, and enough ceremony planning to make a grown soldier cry. If anyone wanted to sabotage the marriage, they had a hundred chances.
Togashi tapped one line in the notes and slid the page toward me.
The eastern garden reception was listed for tomorrow.
I looked up slowly.
Gabriel saw my face and immediately looked at the page, then made the exact noise of a man stepping on a trap.
"No."
I pointed at the schedule because this was not my fault.
"It is literally on the official program."
He took the page, stared at it, and then stared at the ceiling as if he had been betrayed by paper.
"We will stand near a hedge. You will look at plants."
I should not have laughed, but I did.
The idea of me spending a royal reception in a corner complimenting shrubs was too much. Togashi's mouth twitched again, and this time even Gabriel cracked for half a second before catching himself and going stern.
"Good. Laugh now. Tomorrow you are a decorative object."
I leaned back in my chair and spread my hands.
"What exactly am I allowed to do?"
Gabriel counted on his fingers again, dead serious.
"You can walk with us, eat with us, sleep here, read mission notes, heal one of us if we are dying, and look at walls."
Togashi lifted one finger.
"And breathe."
I looked at him, offended and impressed at the same time.
"Thank you for the permission."
He gave me a tiny nod like he was being generous.
The room settled after that. Gabriel finally stopped pacing and sat down, though he kept one eye on the door like he expected a princess to phase through it. Togashi organized the notes into neat stacks. I repacked my satchel so the healing supplies were hidden under spare clothes, because apparently my own tools were now considered a diplomatic hazard.
For a few minutes, it almost felt normal.
We were just three idiots in one room after a long day -- talking strategy, bickering, and pretending tomorrow would go better if we made enough rules tonight. The fire crackled. The lamps glowed warm against the carved walls. Somewhere outside, palace bells marked the hour.
Then came a knock at the door.
Not the soft staff knock we heard earlier.
This one was bright, quick, and confident, like the person on the other side expected to be welcomed anywhere.
Gabriel stood so fast his chair tipped over.
Togashi was already on his feet before the chair hit the carpet. He moved to the side of the door with pure instinct, one hand near his sword and the other raised for silence. I just sat there for half a beat, because my first thought was a guard, my second thought was room service, and my third thought was worse.
Another knock came -- lighter this time.
Then the door opened a finger width before anyone could answer.
White hair caught the lamplight through the gap.
A silver eye peeked in, amused and completely fearless.
"Hi, everyone, dinner is ready."