Shena hurried to the office. She had everything she needed, but between being farther and making sure Lisette would be alright, she was later than usual.
Something was strange when she walked in. It was quieter. Emptier. Then again, there were rarely more than ten people there at once. Their work was outside on the streets, and many had likely left already. She supposed Baltemont's shadow still lingered. He hadn't been one of them, but Lisette was. The office didn't have to know who her husband was to lament that fact that she had lost him.
The head courier, Ardon Riszt, had made an appearence, too. That was always an occasion. He had his work responding to complaints and taking care of special packages, and sometimes he would take a route when someone was absent, but he did much of that work outside of the office.
"Sir Riszt," she said, nodding to him. He was sitting at a table, staring at a few forms in front of him.
"Shena, you're a loyalist, right?" he said. She could tell immediately, from his voice, that something wasn't right. Sir Riszt was a jovial old man, especially since last winter, when his daughter had given birth to two little twins.
"Yes, sir," she told him. "What's wrong?"
"Sit," he said.
When she did, he sat back and breathed a long, heavy, sigh. "There have been guards," he began, "and Baltemont, he was a taxer. It's just come to my attention that, two days before Baltemont was found, a labourer that was cleaning the alleyways was killed as well. Last night, a courier in one of the northwest districts didn't make it back to the office. They're still looking for him. Laurence and Keyri resigned when they heard."
"Laurence has been here for years..."
"I know. Keyri I accepted, Laurence baffled me. But it's not right for me to stop them." Then he leaned forward, elbows on the table, and glared Shena in the eyes. His manner was uncharacteristically serious. "And it won't be right for me to stop you, should you wish to do the same."
"No," Shena said immediately. She felt a few eyes fall on her. That must have been louder than she had intended. "I intend on staying, sir," she added in a softer voice.
He leaned back, gaze softer. "I think I understand, but can I ask why anyway?" he said, a smile peeking out from the sides of his lips.
"Because there is no other place I'd rather be," she replied. He was right, he did understand. She knew he did. It wasn't the musty office of paper that she cared for. It was the city; the country. The hope. She wanted to be part of it, in the service of the King, and Sir Riszt had known her long enough understand.
"I'm glad for your youthful determination," he said. "If you had left, I would have been lost." Suddenly, he smiled, and the sparkle in his eyes returned, and he once again became the jovial man she knew. "But this is not about me," he said. "The district meeting is in two days, the first of every month, as always. I can't believe it's August already. In any case, your duties start today. Figure out how to get Keyri's and Laurence's duties completed. All new reports, special requests, and complaints go to you. I will finish off whatever is already mine."
"Pardon, sir? Are you--"
"Yes, Shena. I'm gone," Sir Riszt said. He had stood up, and then his words became an announcement to the tardiest of the couriers. "I have grandchildren to spend my days with, and enough money not to need to put my life on the line for it. Laurence has fled, Lisette is in mourning, and none of you have been here as long as those three except her." He made a flourish of removing his short cloak, coloured a little differently than the standard uniform, and presenting it to Shena with a playfully dramatic bow. "My position is yours."
A round of applause, enthusiastic but sparse, pattered across the room, but Shena didn't need a roaring crowd to justify her joy.
"And with it," he continued, sitting down and speaking only to her again," comes a spot at the district council." He removed the district pin from his shirt, took her hand, and pressed it against her palm. Her expression matched his now. "As tradition dictates," he continued, "I will be your mentor there for as long as you need me. Congratulations."
"Sir, I- Thank you. Thank you, sir."
He just laughed. "Who else could it have been, my dear? Now, you are already acquainted the Madam Celeste Ferro, the district head, are you not? Your home is quite close to the Ferro House."
"Barely. I'm a little bit acquainted with her father, though."
"The General? Friends in high places! Very good! The meeting is in the early evening, at her family home. I will pick you up here. Dress well, but not too decoratively. Don't bother with lunch or dinner. Madam Ferro likes to allow the chef to flaunt his skill."
He stood up again, and reached for his coat. "You already know how this old office is run," he said, as he tossed it over his shoulders. "I am going to go over to that big white house, give her my official resignation, get a drink at the Thistle, and then I will be at my daughter's home, running around in the yard like a madman with her children. Good day, Shena." He put on his hat, tipped it to her with a wink, and headed for the door. "I'd wish you luck, but I don't think you'll need it."