Gareth’s voice drew our attention to the doorway where he stood. Judging by the red flush in his cheeks and the dampness of his hair, he’d just come from outside. I cheered and raised a glass of brandy. The lord smirked, strolled in, bowed in Landis’s direction, removed a small box of glass globes, and sat in the chair opposite me with a luxurious sigh.
“Any more of that brandy?” He asked. “Or has Hugh drunk it all?”
“There’s more where it came from,” Corrin replied.
While Corrin poured another for Gareth, Landis held up a string of red ribbons and looked at them thoughtfully.
“These look rather nice.” He mused aloud.
“They’d look better on you,” Corrin whispered in his ear as he passed by.
Landis’s cheeks flushed. With a put-upon pout, he disappeared around the other side of the dark, plush fur tree and fake sulked in embarrassment for a minute or two. I chuckled and shot a smile at Gareth. Honestly, if I was ever sad, I knew I would find my spirits again at Landis’s side.
“Are you returning home?” I asked Gareth curiously.
“I must, alas. There are my siblings, not to mention a few cousins, aunts, and uncles left. And my grandmother,” Gareth added. “She will scold me if I do not spend enough time at Baywaters. But I wished to stop by and give everyone my best wishes before continuing.”
“Any news?”
Landis, who had been working with Corrin to twine the red ribbon around the branches of the tree, stopped to look at Gareth hopefully. Gareth shook his head.
“Nothing concrete, I’m afraid, Landis.” Gareth finished off his brandy and shifted forward, lowering his voice. “Alan had found a mark on his shoulder. Hidden by a kind of glamor, but he was able to break it. It revealed the sigil of the Night Blade Guild. A well-known guild that offers various services—assassinations, thieving, and so on. Very specialized. Very expensive. And very dangerous.”
“Night Blade.” I frowned. “That’s… not good, Gareth.”
“No. It is not. They have been the direct opposition to the Sumarene throne for the past decade, and the King’s Blades have met their match against them on more than one occasion. Worse, anyone in the business knows that the Blades consist of amassive group of decentralized kinfolk. Across many countries… and with links to the black market.”
“So, we cannot easily trace the blackguard to any particular person?” I mused aloud. “Godsdammit. A loss then.”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that. Alan was determined to give me something more. A cursory analysis of the blade revealed that a very specific kind of potion was used. The poison will need further identification. Which is why I am here.”
I stared at him, suspicion forming in my gut.Oh, gods, no.I mentally groaned. It’s not that I disliked Alan, but the white-haired, bespectacled mage was a bit of a wet blanket.
“I need you to accompany him as he makes inquiries, Hugh. I want Corrin to stick close by Landis throughout Wintermas. It’s up to you to keep an eye on Alan.”
“Very well,” I sighed.
“You don’t like Alan?” Landis asked curiously.
“No, no.” I hastened to reassure them. “Alan is a fine tom, just…”
“Immune to your charms?” Corrin’s eyes were twinkling.
“No one is immune to my charms.”
“Hm.”
“He’s just… complicated,” I finally said. “But I can watch over him. I want to get to the bottom of this, and if I have to handhold a high mage, I will.”
“Keeping yourself out of trouble?”
At the sound of Alan’s voice, I straightened, turned about slowly, looked down at my half-empty wine glass, and realized that there was not enough wine in the world to make me a happy tom. Not with Alan about at any rate. There was something about those unusual violet eyes behind those over-sized silverspectacles that seemed to dissect you as though you were another cadaver beneath his thin blades. I shivered and eyed the white-haired young catkin. Compared to me, Alan was slimmer, but he was still rather tall. He was only a few inches shorter than me. As such, it was difficult to avoid his hard gaze. And even more awkward questions.
I sipped my wine and contented myself with glaring in his general direction. The Earl of Brockhurst’s evening party had been going so well. Now I was trapped with the very person I had hoped to avoid.
“I haven’t tumbled anyone tonight. Yet.” I smirked then. “Ask me again in a couple of hours.”
“You’ve flirted with half of the people in this room.”
