"Bastian, my lord. One of the keybrokers." Maybrick took up stride alongside the wobbling motorchair. "He has begun to act erratically. I fear he is no longer suited to his role.”

Lord Sauding looked up at Maybrick in alarm. “Bastion? Isn’t he the one who got me into the room with all the music boxes?” The monarch shook his head. “We can’t lose him. He’s too important, too valuable.”

Maybrick sighed. “Your fondness for the boy has emboldened him. It has made him reckless, my lord. He’s been shirking his duties, and I think he’s been… exploring.” Maybrick almost spat the last word.

Lord Sauding let the throne drift to a stop while he thought the matter over. "No matter. I need him too much, Maybrick.” Lord Sauding pushed on the throttle once more, weaving back around the court. “The boy is important. See to it that he remembers. Send him to Magdalene.“

A faint smile crept onto the corner of Maybrick’s mouth. “At once, my lord.”

1 comment:

Drey said...

I love the word "keybroker".