"The Imperial Guard? They have a stake in the contests that go on in the Dance of Thorns. Each highway GuardHand might as well be a lord without a title. Their land is the road and their tax is a heavy one. So to keep the roads open, the receive money, bribe money, and a lot of it. They will carry out the dirty work of other players too, if the price is good enough.
"But the Enforcers, they are actually the living embodiment of the Empress's will. It is through them that she keeps a loose control over her subordinates. Every city in Heilth has group of Enforcers at their doorstep.
"They say that they are a relic of Ferl the Conqueror, the first Emperor of Heilth. He united the warring states one by one, and in each he left behind a few of his own personal guard. These were men and women he trusted with his life, people he had vetted and developed strong relationships with. It was the only way he could ensure his rule and law were respected by the nobility.
"Simply put, they can't be bought. Enforcers are rotated throughout the empire and report directly to the Empress herself. They get no bribe money because they have no loyalties to the land, they've got nothing the nobles want.
"They are an honorable bunch, in my opinion. They would know an unconscious Nü poses no threat. Had the Guard killed you at that point, the Enforcers would have treated it as murder.
"Imperial Guards usually try to stay out of the Enforcers' way as much as possible, anyway. The Enforcers are better equipped and better trained so those bastards get their dirty work done before anyone arrives. That is why you live."
His explanation still sinking in, Onion's mood sunk into a hateful mess of reflection. "You have a strange culture, Eirdren. But it does not matter. The result is the same. Why bother with this drawn out process when my death is inevitable? Would that I had died that day with my brothers in the field of battle!" Onion violently waved her hand, dismissing the robed man. She wanted nothing more to do with him this day.
She had little new information save the knowledge that even in his last moments, Rejnev had singled out his little sister and protected her before any other; before himself. Onion knew that his knowledge of this foreign world was extensive enough to understand what would happen. If she had fought, her death would have been certain. Instead, he didn't allow her even the choice.
Onion hated her brother for his self-sacrifice. She hated him because she missed him. His wild, optimistic and strong face, dear brother, never again to be seen by the warm rays of the sun.
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