The sun rose stark over the Giant Icing Ridge. Its brazen light brought no warmth. It never did. In his years surviving the majestic land’s attempts to kill him, Affogato had determined there was nothing that could bring warmth to the Dark Cacao Kingdom.

He woke before dawn, as he always did. He’d barely slept the previous night. Despite having shunned him for being half-bred, even the elders of the Coffee Tribe couldn’t deny their blood ran through his veins. He was Coffee Tribe, and by law of biology the people of the Coffee Tribe didn’t sleep.

Affogato spent the early hours of the day in solitude. Those pre-dawn moments were some of the only times he got a chance to. Those hours between his waking and the rest of the kingdom’s were his and his alone. It was a secret time he shared with no one else, a time to make final preparations to the next day’s projects and proposals, a time to pursue his own personal desires. It was a rare time where he could take care of his body and mind, where he could comb his hair and cleanse his skin and assure that every visible inch of his body was perfectly beautiful. If he had to give up everything in his life, Affogato would never let go of the peace those silent vigils brought him.

By the time the sun broke over the distant peaks, the vigil was over. The night palace guard would be changed with their daytime counterparts, and the earliest of the dawn Watcher patrols would be sent out to roam the snowy countryside. The thought of the Watchers reminded Affogato of one of the day’s tedious tasks- by request of the King, he was to speak with the Fist Watcher. Caramel Arrow was a spirited, determined young woman, only a few years Affogato’s younger. Through an admittedly impressive skill with a bow and an unwavering loyalty to the King, she had landed herself the title of First Watcher only a few years ago, the youngest to hold it in recorded history. Affogato was to speak to her about the increased number of petitioners crowding the citadel gates. He doubted she’d have anything useful to say about the topic.

That wasn’t til midday, though. Affogato had plenty of time to prepare for the drudge of boredom that would be.

Before leaving his private chambers, he checked his reflection in the mirror. Mirrors were still a luxurious thing in the Dark Cacao kingdom, and he still considered himself impossibly lucky to have one, all for himself. It was an intricate, beautiful thing- a pane of clean glass, surrounded by a delicately carved frame. It was large enough to show his entire body, robed layered in fine fabrics and expensive furs. Ten years ago, he couldn’t have pictured himself like this. It still seemed strange he had gotten this far. And he still had so far left to climb.

Affogato brushed violet pigment over his eyelids and black over his lips- the final step in his daily routine. That, he hoped, would draw attention away from the slitted pupils and too-sharp teeth that branded him an outsider. Or, it would draw more attention to them. He didn’t care.

The guards outside his door greeted him stiffly, each with a simple ‘Good Morning, Head Advisor’. Affogato didn’t recognize either of them. That wasn’t good. Someone was trying to undermine him.

“Good morning, guards.” He nodded back, and pretended to examine their faces. It’d seem more natural if he took more time to notice the change. It’d raise less suspicion. “Oh, forgive me, I don’t believe I know your names.”

“No, Head Advisor. We’ve been transferred to this position recently.” The guard on the left said. He was a young man with a reddish cherry tone to his rich dark hair. His companion- an older, paler woman, glared at him for speaking out of turn.

Affogato acted like he hadn’t noticed the glance between the two guards. He shook his head and forced a concerned expression upon his features, furrowing his brows and parting his lips in false shock. “A transfer, oh my… where are Batik and Amandine?” He didn’t have to force the curiosity into his voice. He truly did want to know what had happened to his previous pair of day-guards. After all, he had spent a considerable amount of coin bribing them not to tell anyone about his private activities. Apparently, he hadn’t spent enough.

“They’ve been transferred to wall patrols,” the older guard explained, speaking up so her younger companion would not. “There’s been many transfers of the sort lately. If you take any personal offense with the change, you speak with the Guardmaster.”

Affogato had initially pegged the younger guard as the more confident of the two, yet the elder was showing more spunk than he had assumed. She clearly thought highly enough of herself to condescend to him. Affogato let an almost-fake smile glide across his features. “Oh, how fortunate! I’m actually on my way to an appointment with the Guardmaster as we speak!” He was not, but he could certainly change that.

The elder guard shifted her stance, puffing out her chest like a defensive bird. The younger seemed to cower behind his halberd.

“May I have your names, so that I might accurately report this incident to him?” Affogato prompted, at the guards’ silence.

A beat of silence followed, as the two guards glanced at each other. “I am Nanaimo,” The elder put a hand to her chest, “And this is Donauwelle.” She said nothing else, content to leave him with as little information as she could.

It didn’t matter to Affogato. He had received all the information he needed. “Very well, Nanaimo, Donauwelle. I fear this is where we part ways, as I have a very busy day ahead of me.”

“Of course, Head Advisor,” Nanaimo stepped back, reassuming her post. “I believe we’ll have plenty of time to spend with one another some other day.”

In any other circumstance, it would’ve been a pleasantry. Affogato had been in the citadel long enough to recognize it as the threat it was. He couldn’t show any sign of anger, even the slightest shift in expression. To be angry would be letting his enemy win. He widened his smile. “Well, who can predict the future?” He didn’t wait for another response before turning his shoulder to the guards and starting down the hall. If he really was going to speak to the Guardmaster, he had to move fast.

It was still early in the morning, and the halls of the palace were still largely empty. Affogato passed silently through the halls- even when he was alone, it was still best to practice measures of stealth. He didn’t know who could be watching him from the hidden passages in the walls. The only real way to avoid being eavesdropped on was to ensure that his presence remained unnoticed.

The Guardmaster’s offices were in the northern halls of the citadel. In times of crisis, he and his contingent of warriors were supposed to be the last line of defense against the malicious Licorice Sea- at least, symbolically. Affogato doubted there would be much anyone could do if the sea really did rise over the King’s sturdy walls.

It was a considerably walk from Affogato’s residence in the south-western wing of the Citadel, and once he had spoken to the Guardmaster, he’d have to walk all the way back in order to meet with his disciples. He really didn’t have the time to be running around the citadel like this, going to meetings not on his schedule, but making threats without following through was a far worse idea.

Though the groaning of the sea could be heard throughout the citadel- echoing through the halls like the terrible moaning of a wounded beast- it was most prominent in the northern halls. Not only did the grumbling become a roar in those halls, it was the only place Affogato had found in which one could smell the water, in all it’s rancid, sour glory. He wondered how anyone got any work done this side of the citadel. It was unbearable.

It had taken Affogato so long to walk through the citadel, by the time he reached the Guardmaster’s quarters, the brazen sun had risen high enough to light up the entire Citadel, casting white light over the white snow. Though the Guardmaster’s offices were primarily decorated with dark furnishings, the effect persisted due to the open windows taking up most of the space on the north-facing wall. As Affogato entered the office, he found himself too mesmerized by the view of the sea to notice much else of the room. There was something about the churning black water that pulled him in, like a siren’s song invoking his own self-destruction.

A husky cough stirred him from his hypnosis. The Guardmaster. “... Head Advisor Affogato.”

Affogato snapped his attention from the window. The Guardmaster was a stout, burly man, who always looked too large for the low desk he sat behind. He was surrounded by paperwork and ledgers, and looked thoroughly out of place in his own office. As if someone had put a warhammer in a library.

“I don’t believe we’re due to see each other for a few more weeks, unless something has changed,” The Guardmaster muttered, checking one of his ledgers. He didn’t meet Affogato’s gaze- he never did. Affogato assumed he was irrationally afraid of his slit, Coffee-tribe pupils, like so many Dark Cacaoians were.

“I came of my own accord, this is an impromptu visit.” Affogato frowned when the Guardmaster had stalled long enough that he began to fear for his next appointments. “Though, let’s keep this brief. I do have places to be after this.”

The Guardmaster grumbled something crude and low, and rearranged the ledgers and paperwork blanketing his desk. “Of course… what’s the purpose of your visit, then?”

Affogato took the question as an invitation to sit on the rough-fabriced, violet cushion the Guardmaster kept infront of his desk for guests, and did so. “I’ve noticed you’ve been requesting a lot of transfers lately. The guards usually stationed around my chambers- Batik and Amandine- have been replaced.”

“They have.” The Guardmaster affirmed with a knowing, unhappy grunt. “By request of the King, all spare forces are to be restationed to wall duty. What’s it matter to you?”

Affogato didn’t quite understand what the use was in taking two guards from indoor duty and putting them on the wall, only to put two more guards back on indoor duty in their place. He didn’t care to waste breath by asking about it, though. “Why does it matter to me? Well, they’re guarding my chambers, aren’t they? Anyone in their right mind would care.”

The Guardmaster raised a single, inquisitive eyebrow, not quite believing Affogato’s story.