WARNING: The following content contains references to physical abuse. Readers' discretion is advised.

"You have disgraced the High Counsel," he glowered. "What did you think when you involved a Shol Tritausen in punishment, knowing he was a slave of a Doson Elite? We just legislated Nodus 1718!"

Taking a deep breath, I focused on the window past him, releasing my arms. "Commander, let's handle this without escalation. Please."

"Without escalation" to him, instead of calming down, meant he could still communicate his boiling rage with a sharp snuff. "I would hate to take this further, but don't you realize what stake there is in condoning this?"

"I don't know what you're talking a—."

"Don't lie to me, Blend!"

Gulping, my racing thoughts overtook the pressuring silence. I lied out of fear, and now it would seem suspicious to him, the whole situation. Let alone, I prepared to defend myself, replaying scenarios of his rage in the past to myself.

"Jorel of Shol-Et, you know!" Balling his fist at his side, he muttered, "Be the honest woman everyone says you are and tell the damn truth. What the hell is going on with the Elders!"

"I knew nothing about him being a slave of a Dosonite Elite," I said. "Nothing." But, then I remembered what Ri-El told me about him being a slave, her own family taken in the crisis. "I mean..."

"Don't make me—!" The rager raised his fist, his eyes scouring my face. He hesitated, though he had no risks. Multiple times I complained to the King about his inappropriate violence toward me in the past, and of course, Commander Hardaran's noble background saved him, allowing him to escape with gentle warnings. The King would have been sure to find something wrong to persecute me if he found out about Jorel.

Going into this whole situation with Jorel made a mess of my duty, and he was the one to believe I had a voice for the Tritausen. I didn't. I told Jorel that any involvement would have had penalties since day one, and now it could have been the time to reap them.

Like a ghost leaving a body, the Commander's rage dropped with his balled hand falling loose at his side. "You better be damn ready if the King gets a word of this. You tell me everything that happened, and we're going to let this Jorel out quickly and quietly. Are we clear?"

"Yes, we're clear."

Taking a step back, putting on his benevolent-commander face again, he took in a deep breath. "Now, tell me how this all started."

I nodded, gathered my thoughts with a deep breath in, out, and blinked hard, then told him. "It started on my second work day this week. Right after Nodus 1718's legislation, I went to the balcony garden on the second floor at the Residences. And a Shol Tritausen named Joreph-El, or Jorel, came to me. He told me that the Shol Elders were considering extreme measures against the Dosonites by slaying the Blends. And—."

"And you let him escape!" His furious spirit returned with his countenance.

"Yes, I didn't think to follow him, and it was my—."

"Knowing he could have assassinated the King on royal grounds! That is an infringement of your duty, Justice!"

I huffed. "Commander. We can talk about this without escalation, as I said before. If you don't wish to do so, then I'm not obligated to stay."

"And then I'll inform the King that y—."

"Let me tell you why I let him go. I let him go because I didn't know the protocol for Nodus 1718 for an extreme, unexpected situation like this, and whether or not associating with him at all would infringe the law, like what you're accusing me of now. I would have let the Shol Officers deal—."

"I'm accusing you of protecting him!"

"I didn't protect him! I made sure he was arrested for his threats and for using Shol on royal grounds!" An image of neutralized Jorel passed through my mind, not letting the hints of guilt surpass my anger.

"Rrrgh..." A low growl trilled from the Commander's thick throat. "The King will surely find out about this!" And if Commander Anger didn't tone it down, the King would have found out about a High Commander's strangled neck.

I tensed, not willing to take a hit. "He won't find out if we get him out 'quickly and quietly' as you say. That includes keeping rage to a minimum and keeping quiet."

Feeling at his hairs, he lined his sight along the long desk. "He probably knows already... The people are talking about the arrest all over Cymel-Seson... Rrrgh..." Loosening my stance, I gauged his exhaustion. He said, "I didn't address it in the meeting for this reason. I don't know how many people know about it.

"Harper," he grumbled, "I will order Officer Rash to release Jorel at once. He is an Elder's relative, and we don't want to anger them at all. And we need to clear up the mess about his existence at the Residences, to return him to Doson Elite Hygmeya as soon as we can, whatever it takes."

He didn't seem to care much about protecting Jorel, but he cared about protecting his own reputation with the King. Nevertheless, I nodded, considering Doson Elite Hygmeya's loyalty to Dictator Glauss as the trouble deepened more and more.

"Don't ever have this happen again," he glared. "Ever. If you see a Tritausen using Shol on royal grounds, it's your duty as Justice to put them to justice without question."

Though I didn't see Jorel use Shol, I nodded. "Yes, sir. I apologize, Commander."

Light chatter outside of the room filled the still silence around the two of our repressed states. His shoulders lowering, the Commander met eyes with a wall beside me, compressing his calming breaths. "As soon as I leave, Jorel's out, and you're not to associate with him any more. And I won't report you to the King or the rest of the High Counsel. I still have tons of questions I want answered." He sighed and looked up to me. "But let's stay quiet about this for now until it simmers down."

"Yes, sir."

Before he even muttered, "Go," my feet already hurried me out. Thankfully, the confrontation was not as brutish as I thought it would be, but I was sure Commander Joser and Executive Kan Slunk heard all of it, they standing around with their hushed, nosy faces on me on my way out of the Vorda Frontier Headquarters.

Parts of my skin felt the cold air's chill, for other parts still heated in frustration when walking through the boisterous, traveling crowds leaving the Seson Border. Once again, I found myself in a place of trouble with the Cymerian High Counsel, reviving regretful feelings of Nodus 1718's legislation in me. Down the busy walkway, a Shol Officer neutralized a screaming, Tritausen slave who cowered in fear as curious bunches gathered around, the violet lights flashing with the power of the Officer's Vorda Sword. My feet kept ahead.

This all felt like some hoax: Jorel, the Elders, the Commanders, even Nodus 1718. A hoax, one to entertain political anoraks having not much else to do in their lonely lives. And now my warm welcome in Cymel-Seson ran drier than it had compared to my previous visits, considering how many people used their "friendliness" to drill me with intense interrogations. I was somewhat glad Ira did not come along that day.

Making it home, I told my dad about the meeting I went to, but I did not explain details about Jorel or the High Commander. He would have become defensive if I told him about the confrontation like I did last time Commander Anger raged. He would have hurt himself trying to protect me again. And since my father was so insistent on cheering up the problems unknown to him, I played a round of gambling stones with him, all over a warm, Tritausen-traditional dinner only Ri-El herself could prepare. I told Ira about Desonne's concern for her, too.

By nightfall, I fell onto my bed, staring at the ceiling, counting up how much closed in on me within a solid week. Now Jorel could have been running around with his prophetic soothsaying, allowing another Shol War emerge from under all the High Counsel's hoods. If only we had more members like we did in the past. This would not have been an issue, and representation would have been more diverse. Visions of my first Shol Blackout tried to intrude my stream of thought, from my paralysis to my weeping father.

I repressed them with plans on how to handle the tough few weeks coming. No other option seemed obvious to me but to wait it out.