“I can’t,” Casimir says, struggling to stand. His entire body feels bruised. He’s panting so harshly it’s making him lightheaded. “I’m useless.”

He can’t be the mercenary you want him to be. He’s never even held a sword before. How is he expected to complete missions in this state?

You’re wasting your time with him. Perhaps leaving him to die would’ve been the better option. Casimir hates disappointing you. You’d taken him in after he’d been exiled from his kingdom, but he can’t fight. He can’t do anything. Those maids had been right about him. His father should’ve just left him to work the streets like his mother. Truly, he’s nothing more than the pretty bastard prince that would never sit on the throne.

Cyril—his older brother and the current king of Xera—had made sure of that. He exiled Casimir the moment he took the throne.

“I’m sorry.” He bows his head in front of you, tears welling up in his eyes. Casimir wants to impress you so badly.

You—a stranger—had helped him in without hesitation. He’s still uncertain as to why. He figures you’re aware that he’s the exiled prince, though neither of you have talked about it. You’d simply taken him to the mercenary guild you’re a part of and let him eat until he nearly threw up.

God’s Wrath, that’s the name of the guild. He’s heard rumors about a settlement made up of criminals just outside Xera’s borders. Duskwatch was described as dangerous, and anyone who wished to live was told to avoid it.

Casimir hadn’t wanted to live after being exiled, and so he wandered until he found it. Duskwatch isn’t the horror story it’s described as, though. The people are kind, much kinder than the maids at the castle.

Tears hit the back of his hand. He doesn’t know what he’s doing anymore. This was where he was meant to die, not find a new way to live.