I believe in nothing.

It was not always play for Larkin. He, too, had to work, just like everyone else inside the gigantic castle. And being the boss of things, he had to overlook any trading negotiations, papers, letters, and sign to give his approval. His office was on the first floor, where his advisors could be reached - not that he needed them often - and he didn’t have to do as much walking. His office, where he took Tic after breakfast, had been cleaned and prepared for him.

The room, like any other room in the palace, was extremely large. But smaller than any rooms Tic had been in as of yet, aside from the dungeon cell he had experienced. The doors swung open at a single push from Larkin’s free hand, and he led his guest inside. To the right was the desk, and to the left was a fire in the care of a servant man. He poked at the coals with an iron rod, soon setting the freshly applied firewood ablaze. He stood as his master entered, and bowed deeply.

Larkin said nothing to the servant, but switched his eyes from the man to the door, and he instantly understood. Setting down the fire poker, he left.

The smell of burning wood pleased Larkin, and he led Tic to his desk, directing him to sit in the ornate chair at the front. He found that Tic was not as reluctant to release his hand, as he had been to take it. He might have been frightened; the gloves were deadly weapons, after all. They had killed a share of plenty, in battle and out.

Larkin slid into his own chair, eyes cast down to the papers, all neatly organized into piles. One of the piles held maps. He took this particular pile into his hands, and sorted through until he had discovered the specific one. He stared for a moment, propping his elbows onto the edge of the desk and leaning forward. He sniffed, looked up to see Tic staring back at him. He did not smile, only slid the parchment across to the boy.

“Do you know what I want?” he asked quietly, breaking the silence between them. It seemed that Tic didn’t want to look at the map. He had immediately turned his eyes away. Larkin reached across to a bottle of ink and a quill - two instruments that were not often used anymore, but Larkin favored. He took the bottle and quill, sitting it alongside the map.

There was no acknowledgement from Tic, but Larkin knew that he understood.

A guard passed in the hall, and Larkin hailed him. He ordered that the door be shut, and the guard nodded slowly, casting Tic a sympathetic glance before slamming the two large doors closed. And, feeling more comfortable now that no one was going to eavesdrop on them, Larkin let the crackling fire fill the silence for a moment.

Then, “Show me.”