“What about this one, sir?”

  Robert Dyer grabbed the notice from his assistant and read over the description. “Hand me those last two,” he ordered. A quick skim back over the last reports helped solidify his decision. “Kill the second one but ensure the first watches. After a week, if output has not improved, kill the third.”

  “Of course,” his assistant said, taking the papers from his hand. The bean stalk of a man started to leave, but Mr. Dyer gestured for him to stay put. “Is there more, sir?”

  “On second thought, kill the father first. The short loss in product will be overcome by the mother working herself overtime to protect the child.”

  “To confirm: kill the first in front of the second and third?”

  “No, the first in front of the second. We do not need the child to see such an action. If they did, their future would be compromised due to their disdain for us. It is a balance.”

  “Such is the case, sir.”

  “Furthermore,” Robert Dyer added.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Inform my son and wife of the time. They may meet us at the funeral if necessary, but I must be leaving soon,” he declared. A soft wave of his hand confirmed the release of his assistant. The past three days had been taxing. The Golden Coronation, fundraising galas, and political events had blurred into one another with a series of handshakes, and overly dramatic toasts, and fake laughs at others jokes, with only the occasional sanctuary of using his wife’s pregnancy as an excuse to leave such mind numbing obligations. Truth of the matter, he knew Nora and her servants, were more than capable of handling her needs. She was a strong woman. He never would have seen a point in marrying her if she could not, but the public eye required him to appear studious and worried. So, he took a small pleasure in using her to avoid the more horrendously dreadful meetings and galas.

  “Sir, your ride is out front for you,” his assistant said.

  Robert Dyer rose from his wing backed chair and smoothed out his shirt against his torso before unrolling his sleeves. “My jacket,” he ordered without hesitation making his way to the front of his estate. The servant assisted him in donning his jacket then grabbed the door. Waiting on the other side was a portly man that rose only within a sniff of Robert’s shoulders. He wore his ink blank hair combed back in a tight fashion which Robert imagined gave the man a slight headache. His cheeks were freshly shaved as they held a redness to them. “I assume you arrived with the ride, Thaddius?”

  “Yes. I took the liberty to prepare it given the time. I have a separate one waiting for your wife and son. We have much to discuss,” he confirmed. Thaddius waited for Robert to lead the way then fell into line.

  “Business or Politics?” Robert asked, waiting at the door to the carriage. It was opened for him.

  “Are they not the same now, but no-” Thaddius laughed as his attention was drawn back to the front door crashing open into the exterior wall.

  “Father, wait,” a ragged breath called. No one had to question the legitimacy of Harold Dyer being of Robert’s stock. The rich walnut waves fell only past the crown of his ears. The boy collected himself upon noticing the scene he was making in front of Thaddius. He stood the full height of his frame, and walked with a purpose towards the men. “I wish to join.”

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  Thaddius could not help but smile. “Master Harold, good evening. Will your mother be joining us? We have prepared a ride at the front for you two.”

  “She had been preparing herself, but she decided against such an event. Something about how a pregnant woman should not attend funerals, a bad omen something or another,” Harold said.

  “Remind her of the need for her attendance. If she will not join, then I will have use for you to run an errand for me,” Robert said. “Plus, your hair is a mess. Control it or we shall cut it.”

  “Yes sir,” Harold said, softening his posture. He fiddled the lost locks back behind his ears.

  “If possible, convince your mother of the importance of this outing. Either way, have the carriage stop at the flower shop. Which one was it, Thaddius?”

  Thaddius rattled off, “The one off Main Street and Dyer Boulevard.”

  “Yes,” Robert continued, “They have made a bouquet to give to Mr. Nelson’s widow. You will be presenting it to her as a sign of our houses mourning with her.”

  “Of course, Father,” Harold said. He began to stand tall again.

  “Very good. We must now be going. After you, Master Dyer,” Thaddius said, ushering to the seats. Once Mr. Dyer was settled, he joined him inside. As he closed the door, he jested at Harold, “You're a good boy,” The carriage lurch forward before Harold could mouth back a response to him. A silence rested between the two men. Thaddius broke it. “It is not business nor politics. It is family.”

  “Family is business,” Robert said as a matter of fact.

  “True, yet your dealings in business run smoother than with your family as of late.”

  “Thaddius, it is a short ride. Get to your point.”

  “Captain Ironside is requesting higher payment given the events of today. Did you read the report?”

  “Why ask a question you know the answer to? How much is that disgraced sandbag wanting?”

  “An extra 20% fee."

  "I was expecting more," Mr. Dyer said, he gave a faint smile.

  "Also, he is wanting two-thirds up front,” Thaddius explained. He paused knowing any further words would be wasted.

  Robert Dyer rubbed his finger together while he considered the arrangement. “We will give two-thirds up front, but we will retain the last third until full confirmation. Send over the funds. I can only keep Aust in the city for so long before he gets antsy and disappears. He will probably be in some slum of a bar for the next few days. Tell that sandbagger to wait a night then go after him. It is always the second night which he is lost in his ale. He is just pissing mad the end of the first night."

  “Of course, I shall let him know,” Thaddius said, but he lingered on the last few words.

  “I know, you believe me to be a monster. In a way, I will not deny it. It is my job, no my duty, to ensure the future of this city and secure my legacy. Aust has never had a love or concern for the outcome past the tip of his own dick. This sacrifice will allow history to write a friendlier story of his life than if he was left to his own devices.:

  Thaddius allowed the venom in the air to dilute. “Aust is beloved. Like it or hate it, he is a champion of the city -"

  "- All swords are loved as they never have to make the decision of where to swing," Robert Dyer added.

  "Exactly, they love him. Harold on the other hand," he took a moment to find the right words, "He is known. We will have to work on his image. He tries but he does not have the natural talent of Aust."

  “Which is better, Thaddius? A man that is naturally talented or one that has an unending desire for greatness?” Robert gave no time for an answer. “My older brother was like Aust. Tall, strong and quick, yet he had no desire to continue our father's work. His arrogance in his god given gifts rotted him to this core. My father taught me to remove a single sign of rot. If you ignore it, it will fester and kill. Do you understand?"

  “Yes just know there will be waves.”

  “I am counting on that. When it turns out Canyon Springs hired some goons to kill the Bronze Child, the masses will want blood. We will harness that thirst, and with it, we shall have all the votes we need to start the invasion."

  “It shall be done. I will let Ironside know,” Thaddius confirmed.