Rai Half-head sat back with a satisfied expression on his face and looked at the evenly stacked coins on Big-man’s table, and at the neatly drawn diagrams and charts on the stack of papers in front of him.

“Well isn’t this right pretty-drawn and all.” He rubbed at his chin with his stump thoughtfully. He had the first three hairs of what he someday hoped would be a beard there, and was inordinately proud of them. Surprisingly, however, he was more proud of just how well he had done at balancing Caj’s books this month. Not one mistake, not a single one. Rai had checked his work three times, and was certain of it. Not only were there no mistakes, there were tables and graphs he had drawn for predicted income over the next six months. “Aye, ye’ve really outdone yerself this time, ‘alf-head,” he sighed contentedly, “Even old One-eye would be impressed.”

Rai felt a twinge of sadness for the passing of the old man, but suppressed it. It was just like the streets but with a different twist to the rules. One-eye was crew, right enough, and sometimes crew died. Mayhap they did, you moved forward, not back. It was the way of things. Some good came out of One-eye’s death after all. If nothing else, It made Rai enjoy his numbers more, as it was the only way he could feel close to the old man after he was gone. Afore he had died, Narm had been the only person to know of Rai’s talent with numbers. Rai Half-head was what Narm had called a ‘prodigy’, whatever that meant. Rai reckoned it meant that he was right good with numbers. On the streets, the he had been made fun of for liking numbers, so he had formed the habit of hiding his achievements. Since Narm’s death, he had started coming out of his shell in this regard.

Rai looked back down at his numbers, pulling his thoughts away from memories, good and bad. He doubted that even Lady Natalia would be able to fault anything in his calculations, let alone Big-man Undertaker. Aye, Big-man was a good enough fellow, but he hadn’t a head for numbers. Not in the slightest. Rai reckoned that the reason Big-man was so bad with numbers was the reason that he was so bad with grief: he had never lived in the streets.

You see, Big-man had never been a part of the Grim Smoke gang, and seen all his friends gradually either die or be taken by the watch, all to be gradually replaced with new ones, who were then also taken away. Nor had he spent his nights in the dark shadows of Bent-Tail Lane, working the evening crowd as he went. He hadn’t spent his days in The Garden, trading in secrets and gold alike. Big-man had most certainly, definitely, never been to The Orphanage, and worked with Boss-Lady, and seen just how bad a good person could be. No, Big-man Undertaker didn’t grow up on the streets, so he didn’t understand numbers. Or grief.

The way Rai Half-head figured it, numbers were just like stealing from the rich arseholes that visited the brothels on Bent-Tail Lane. Firstly, You didn’t just decide your mark on a whim, only stupid people did that. First things first, you made sure you knew what the problem was.

Well, if I be out workin’ the crowd, it be because I got a damn fine good reason. That reason is that I need food fer Mute tomorrow. If I need food fer Mute tomorrow, I need coin fer the food, right enough.

Secondly, once you got that bit of knowledge tucked squarely in your pocket, you decided what you were going to do about it, by identifying a goal.

Well, obviously, the goal be tae get the coin, tae get the food, tae feed mute with.

Thirdly, you decided exactly how you were going to go about achieving that goal, based on the situation you were in, and the information you had to work with.

How tall be that man o’er there? How full be ‘is purse? Is ‘e drunk? Or nae? Does ‘e ‘ave any sharpies? If ‘e does right enough, exactly ‘ow many, and does ‘e know ‘ow tae use ‘em? Now that I know the answers tae those questions, do I be stealing ‘is purse, or nae? If aye, then ‘how do I be goin’ about it?

Fourthly, you worked your plan. If you worked your plan correctly, you came away with what you wanted, if you didn’t your work failed, and did not achieve the desired outcome. Numbers were just like that as far as Rai Hal-head considered it, just information to be applied in certain situations. He looked down at his paper for a moment with a truly happy smile. He knew it twisted his scarred face into a rictus grin, but he didn’t much care just now. His stomach rumbled, and he stood with a groan, still rubbing at his three chin-hairs.

“I be needin’ some food.” He stated. And with that, he set of to raid the pantry.

***

Caj smiled as he looked over Rai’s work. He had gotten back from the Candidate graduation ceremony very late that night, and was proud of what he was reading. The young man had done well. Quite well. As he looked over the sheets filled with neat graphs and neater writing, he had to admit that he was impressed. Narm had always said that the lad had potential, but Caj had never really believed it. A street rat who was a math prodigy? Who would’ve thought?

Certainly no one who ever heard the lad speak. Caj though wryly as he stored the papers to be sent down to Natalia. Nat had taken to helping Caj with the education of his two wards over these last months, a fact for which he was very grateful. It was not many a noble-woman who would stoop to do such. She had become a good friend, and better ally. IT scared Caj a little bit that he had started to think like that. Allies and enemies. Plans and plots. Caj took a deep breath and shook his head to clear it. It was early days yet. Too early for all that, he knew. Early enough that thoughts like that were dangerous and sharp, likely to cut.

Caj checked to make sure that his short-sword was secure on his hip, and draped his Longsword over the back of his high-backed wooden chair. His fingers briefly traced the three cresting waves carved into the headboard, encircled by a mass of swirling sharks, dolphins, octopi and manta rays. He thought over what was his birthright, and frowned slightly. IT didn’t feel like his birthright, not really. It wasn’t like he had a privilege that other noble children had. He had grown up in a graveyard. He had grown up in the graveyard. Caj never really thought of it all that much, but the boneyard was huge, larger in both area and population then the whole of Goldstern. It would take two days on a fast horse to get from one side of the mortuary to the other, and there were over 20 different outposts, each in charge of 7 different sections of the mortuary, forming a rough grid system. Caj had grown up in that, dealing more with dead people then he did living. It was curious then, that he felt such a responsibility. When he was younger, Narm would practically wax poetical about the duty of the nobility towards the common man. Caj had never understood the concept then, but now he had seen the consequence of the powerful abusing their power overmuch. Death and pain. Misery and poverty. Caj didn’t much like it, and he didn’t much care for the people causing it. Narm’s letter had reminded him of what was his responsibility by birthright. Did he really have a responsibility, based solely on the two parents who brought him into the world? Two parents whom he had never even met? If so, then why? How did that work?

Caj stood there for a long time, deep in thought. His fingers idly traced each piece of the intricate carving that Narm had done for him. He finally sighed in resignation. It seemed that he would come no closer to discovering an answer today as he did yesterday, or the day before that. He turned sharply on his heel and marched to the door, pulling it open and marching down the stairs with the leather folder holding Rai’s work held firmly in his grasp. He felt his stressed and pained mind turn towards the woman he was delivering them to. He would drop them off and then leave, he promised himself. He wouldn’t stay. Not any longer that it took to exchange pleasantries. Nothing good would come of it. He repeated that to himself as he marched down the stairs, moving with purpose. When he reached Nat’s door, he knocked on the door firmly, but not impolitely. He subconsciously used the pattern he always used to identify himself. Lady Natalia opened the door herself, wearing her night-dress and a robe.

“Caj!” she said with a bright smile. A hint of mischievousness lurked in her green eyes, as always. “Come in please, sit and have some tea.”

Well, Caj supposed, a little tea couldn’t hurt. With a smile that melted his heart, and sent his blood to pumping, Nat held the door a little wider. Caj awkwardly shuffle-stepped into the room, checking the conspicuously empty hallway behind him, as he always did. He heard the door click shut behind him, and then lock. He turned around to find Nat inches from him. One hand snaked up around his neck and pulled him into a hungry kiss, while the other sent his sword belt to the carpeted floor with a soft thud.

“On second thought,” Natalia breathed out heavily, “Lets skip the tea, shall we?”

“Let’s…” Caj agreed, with fire in his eyes. He pulled her into another ardent kiss.

***

Natalia sighed contently from where she lay next to Caj. Her bed was a mess, but he cleaning lady knew better than to talk. She was paid quite well for just that after all. She ran her fingers delicately over Caj’s bare chest, and through the pure red hair there. She was worried about him. He had been especially… energetic last night, not that she minded overmuch. He was just normally so reserved. She assumed that he must have been stressed about something. She liked Caj, quite a lot really. She might even love him, she honestly wasn’t certain of that. Of course, she was hardly certain of anything with them anymore. She wasn’t even certain what they were. Were they courting in desire of marriage? Or just bedding for the fun of it? She honestly didn’t know. It felt like some kind of middle ground between those two. The one thing that she did know, was that no matter what, Caj was a friend, and a good man. It pained her to see him in as much pain as he seemed to be on a regular basis.

Narm’s death had been hard on the young man, breaking him down pretty thoroughly, and he was only just now starting to get back to normalcy. Natalia knew that Caj had loved the old man as his father, and to see him die had been a destructive process for the young man. Additionally, something had made him restless these past weeks. He confessed to her during their pillow talk a few days ago that he had read the letter written for him by Narm, but refused to tell her what the old man had said, or who he was. Natalia just knew the old geezer had been someone important, but she didn’t have enough clues to figure out who. All she really knew, or could find out from any one of her spies in the city, was that Narm had been killed by the Crimson Keepers for some old transgressions. There was even one rumor going around that he had been killed by Dean Rankin himself, but most dismissed this as foolishness. After all, the old man still had his one eye after he died. Anyone who knew about Dean Rankin knew that he didn’t leave the eyes of his targets behind, even if no one knew why. She had even approached Mother Jamia in hopes of finding some unknown information, but she got nothing more from the runner of “The Orphanage” as she did from anyone else. It was disturbing really.

Caj began to wake up and she slid upwards along his side and kissed the corner of his mouth. He had terrible morning breath. His eyes snapped open, then fell upon her face, and then lower. He grinned.

“Good morning, Nat.” he said, pulling her in for a kiss. She firmly put her hand over his mouth before he could do so.

“Brush your teeth first, you lout.” She laughed. Caj chuckled back.

“Yes, mi’lady.” He replied dutifly, before rolling out of bed and meandering over to the wash basin to do just that. Nat stretched and sat up in bed while he did so. Amusing herself by watching Caj try not to look at her bareness. When Caj practically bounded back to bed, she smiled. As uncertain as she was about everything else in the world right now, it didn’t seem to matter all that much in this moment.