Chapter 228: The Fallen Lord.
The convoy rolled through the capital at that slow, deliberate pace meant to be seen. Two cars ahead, one behind, black and polished under the midday sun. The streets already carried the news in the way only cities can—people moving quieter, heads turning, conversations dropping as we passed. The specific hush of a place that had just lost something big and hadn’t decided how to carry it yet.
I sat in the back with Sinn. Mercury drove in front, dressed head to toe in black, one hand resting loose on the wheel, eyes locked on the car ahead of us.
"I’ve always wanted to do something at a funeral," she said, breaking the silence.
"What kind of something?" I asked.
"Show up with an umbrella. Full black. Stand maybe two hundred meters from the grave, completely separate from everyone else." She adjusted her grip on the wheel, knuckles pale for a second. "Not close enough for anyone to approach me. Just close enough that people notice."
"That’s what most people do," I said.
"No." She shook her head slightly, black hair shifting. "Most people who do that actually knew the person. I want to do it at a complete stranger’s burial. Show up, cry from a distance, then leave without saying a word to anyone." A small pause. "I want to leave people wondering for years who that woman was and why she cared."
I caught her eyes in the rearview mirror. That was pure Mercury.
Sinn said nothing from his side of the seat. He’d been quiet since we left the building, staring out the window, jaw tight. Whatever he planned to say once we got inside, he was still turning it over behind his eyes.
The convoy turned off the main road and passed through tall iron gates into a large private mansion. Bala’s home. In all the short time I’d known him, I’d never pictured him having one. He’d always seemed like he lived inside the CGI building, like the work was the only place he let himself exist.
"Okay," Sinn said quietly as the cars slowed to a stop. "Let’s do this."
"Yeah," Mercury answered. She checked her hair once in the rearview mirror with careful, deliberate movements—like looking right was the only thing she could control this morning.
Sinn turned to me before opening his door. "Riya’s burial is in two hours. You two need to be there."
I nodded. We knew the schedule cold.
He stepped out first. Mercury and I followed, falling into step behind him across the wide stone driveway. Soldiers stayed posted at the vehicles, eyes scanning the crowd. The yard was packed. Cars from every corner of the walls sat parked at odd angles. People stood in small clusters, speaking in low voices, the particular heavy silence of a gathering no one wanted to attend.
Sinn walked ahead, shoulders squared, carrying whatever he felt about Bala locked tight where it wouldn’t show until later.
Mercury moved beside me, close enough that her arm brushed mine, her black heels clicking softly on the stone path. I tugged at the collar of my suit. The thing still felt foreign—stiff fabric pulling across my shoulders, hands unsure where to go.
I hadn’t worn one since the walls first gave me one, and I still hadn’t figured out how to exist inside it. But today I was a government representative. The strangest sentence I’d put together since stepping into this life.
We followed Sinn through the wide entrance of the mansion, the heavy doors swallowing us into the cool, shadowed interior where the real weight of the day waited.
***
The house was magnificent inside—everything in its exact place, the kind of meticulous order that spoke of a man who had lived with ruthless intention. Tall windows let in slanted late morning light that cut across dark wood floors and heavy furniture.
Rows of chairs filled the big living room. People sat quietly in black, some heads bowed, others standing at the front taking a final moment with the fallen lord laid out in an open casket.
The air carried that specific thick hush of rooms where something final has happened and everyone present knows it.
Sinn walked straight to the front, shoulders rigid. Mercury and I found two seats near the back, the wooden chairs creaking softly under us.
There was no need for me to go up front. I was still carrying the last mission Bala had given me before he died. That felt like enough of a goodbye.
"This man clearly lived well," Mercury murmured, leaning close so her breath brushed my ear. Her black dress shifted against my leg.
I nodded, but my mind was already drifting somewhere else. One question had been gnawing at me since the convoy pulled through those gates. If Bala had all of this—a mansion like this, a life like this—why had he spent his final days trying to tear down the very system that let him keep it? He could have been selfish. He could have looked the other way and lived out his days in comfort.
He hadn’t. And now here he was, at the front of his own living room in a box.
"Looks like Sinn is already searching for his right hand," Mercury whispered again, nodding toward the front.
I wasn’t really listening. My eyes moved slowly across the room, scanning faces, until I found her.
Mable. Standing near the far wall, speaking quietly to a man I didn’t recognize. No one in the room was crying. The grief here was the composed kind—the kind that had been prepared for well in advance.
"Bram." Mercury touched my arm, her fingers warm through the suit sleeve. "You good?"
"Yeah." I tilted my head slightly toward Mable. "I need to speak to her. She’s still caught up in everything."
"Go on then," Mercury said. "We don’t have much time here."
"I’ll wait for a moment."
Mercury stood without another word. She squeezed past my knees, the hem of her black dress brushing my leg, and walked straight toward Mable like she belonged everywhere.
I watched her reach the man Mable was talking to, shake his hand with easy familiarity like they’d known each other for years. A few quiet words, a nod, and Mable peeled away from the conversation. She glanced once toward the back of the room, then slipped out through a side door.
Mercury settled back into the seat beside me, smoothing her dress over her thighs.
"What did you just do?" I whispered.
"She’s outside waiting for you," Mercury said, a small satisfied smile tugging at her lips. "Go."
I stood, straightened the suit jacket that still felt too tight across my shoulders, and walked out of the living room. The heavy doors clicked softly behind me as I stepped into the sunlit yard, leaving the quiet weight of the funeral inside.