Mutual Moral Code Breaking

20260816

Prompt from DailyPrompt.com

“Ah. You weren’t supposed to find that until after I left.”
Grey’s voice is as nonchalant as ever. Entirely at odds with how emotional I’m currently feeling. And how emotional I feel he should be, on finding me searching his belongings like this.
What little I can see of his face, for he wears his hood pulled low and that scarf pulled up over his nose even indoors, is likewise serene. Putting on a brave front? Or is he genuinely unbothered by this egregious breach of trust I’ve committed?
Even if he isn’t upset, and even with what the letter I’m holding has revealed, I still feel compelled to apologise. And explain myself. “I’m sorry. I know it’s wrong, but after you’ve been so withdrawn and refused to talk about it, I… I was worried for you.”
One eyebrow raises. It’s nearabout the only emoting he regularly indulges in. “Worried for me?”
“Yes. I thought…” I pause and look down at the letter, then amend “I thought you were going to, to abandon the world. I’ve… lost several friends to…”
“Ohh.” His blank eyes widen. Soften? “Um. I can promise I’ve only ever been tempted to kill other people.”
“Good?”
It’s a poor joke, actually, but by now I’m used to that from him. Especially when dealing with an awkward situation. And by the Four this is awkward.
Having been caught red-handed, I wave the letter and bluntly ask “Were you working for them before you joined us? Or did they approach you after?”
“I…” His face becomes wooden again. “In my defence, I said upfront that I had personal reasons for approaching you…”
The whole time, then. Which makes me feel better. Perhaps it shouldn’t. But it’s easier to make peace with someone agreeing to betray me when I was but a faceless stranger, rather than turning on me after we’ve shared struggles and I had offered them kindness.
He shifts. I should be wary of that. I have no idea what he’s thinking, or what he might be willing to do, now.
But he says “And I reasoned that, while honour keeps me from confessing against my client, once I’d completed the job they hired me for, that no longer applied. So it only felt right to… explain myself. From a safe distance.”
I wince. “I’m sorry to have cost you honour. I didn’t-”
“Oh, you didn’t.” He flaps a hand, dismissing my concern. “Being caught out is a very different matter to deliberately voiding a contract. If anything, I’m grateful. And touched.”
“Touched?” I blink and scrutinise him.
The way his eyes are crinkling…
“Ms Straight-As-A-Pike goody-two-shoes broke into my stuff because she was worried for me.” I’m now certain he’s grinning. “How could I not be touched? I couldn’t believe my eyes. And given I’d put ‘a goodbye apology’ on the envelope I can hardly complain about you reading it…”
“Well, yes.” I slowly fold up the letter. “Now what?”
“Good question.” He folds his arms and flumps back to lean against the wall in a familiar pose. A reassuringly casual pose. One ill-suited for suddenly attacking or running. “I suppose getting caught like this means my contract’s failed. Cover blown, trust broken, so no way for me to now get hold of the flutes. Probably best for everyone if you lot march me to the nearest prison.”
“What? But…”
He rolls his eyes at me. “Oh, come on, you’re usually the first to want to do things by the book and involve the guard…”
“But we need you!” I frown, levelling my best reproachful glare. “We wouldn’t have gotten this far without your help - half of us probably wouldn’t be alive! Can’t we hire you? Since you don’t have a contract going anymore, you can now write one with us, right?”
There’s a long silence as he stares fixedly at me.
Then, very slowly, he says “You just found out that I took a job from the Devouring Light cult, to screw over you trying to save the world, and you turn around and want to hire me?”
I shrug. “Well, where else are we going to find someone with your skills at short notice? Much less who’s willing to face the Towers for money.”
He huffs and shakes his head. “Blades in the dark, Clarissa, you are a prime fool.”
Shrugging the insult off with now-practised ease, I’m actually struck by the fact he used my name. Not ‘cleric’ or ‘Ms Prissy’, which is all he’s called me until now.
Encouraged by this, though I’m not sure what it signifies, I press “So, how much would we have to pay you, to help us with the remaining two Towers? How much were they paying you?”
“…Enough.” He mutters. Not meeting my gaze.
I toss my head and scoff “I’m not signing a writ for ‘enough’, Grey. I’m not that big a fool.”
“Pff, coulda fooled me.” His disdainful tone is entirely unconvincing. Barely half-hearted.
“So?” I prop my fists on my hips and raise an eyebrow.
“Mm…” He rubs his nose, then shrugs. “Tell you what. If everyone else agrees not to string me up, and to give me a day’s head start once all this is over… and you all keep paying room and board and travel expenses… we’ll say we’re even.”
“Really?”
That seems… there’s no way that comes close to what he was promised! I can’t imagine him agreeing to aid the Devouring Light for anything less than a fortune, or some profane miracle money can’t buy. And surely they wouldn’t have given him anything upfront.
“Yeah.”
Grey tugs the scarf down and gives a lopsided grin. Is it just the awkwardness of the situation, or my own projection, which makes the expression look like his face isn’t quite sure how to go about it?
“Call it friends’ rates.”
I return his smile and pocket the letter. “Then let’s appraise everyone. Just… stand behind me, alright?”
“Oh, I’m going to.”

Prompt was “Write a story including the line of dialogue ‘You weren’t supposed to find that until after I left’.”