The gaming hall was a far cry from the dignified halls and proper society functions to which Simon was accustomed. As a duke, Simon valued decorum, responsibility, and duty above all else— traits his younger brother seemed to lack entirely.
Even being spotted here could be a stain on his otherwise spotless reputation.But he had to do it if he was going to track Tobias down.
“Let’s get this over with,” Simon sighed, straightening his posture as he led the way inside.
Once they entered one of the inner rooms, it felt like they were in a different world entirely. The air was filled with the clatter of dice, the shuffle of cards, and the low murmur of conversation punctuated by the occasional raucous laugh or shout of triumph.
Wild behavior.A retreat from the otherwise proper norms of high society.
Men of varying ages and status were gathered around tables, engaged in games of chance that promised fortune or ruin. A group of musicians played lively tunes in the corner, providing a backdrop of entertainment.
“What do you think?” Anthony nudged his friend. “Shall we start coming here on the weekends?”
Simon rolled his eyes, the disgust evident in his expression. “I would much rather be impaled by a stake in broad daylight.”
“For once, I would have to agree with you,” Anthony laughed, grabbing a glass of whiskey from one of the trays being served by the waiters. “It’s a wonder really — how different you both turned out to be.”
“I would suggest you redirect your curiosities into finding my brother instead,” Simon advised.
The thought of interacting with the people here filled him with a sense of disdain. He did not relish the thought of Tobias being entangled with these sorts.
They moved through the room, pausing at various tables to inquire after Tobias. Simon approached a group of men engaged in a game of hazard, his expression polite but firm. “Excuse me, gentlemen, but have any of you seen Tobias Wylde recently?”
One of the men, a portly fellow with a ruddy complexion, looked up from his dice with a furrowed brow. “Tobias, you say? Haven’t seen him in a spell. Used to be a regular here, but he’s not been around lately.”
Simon exchanged a glance with Anthony, his concern deepening. “And you’ve no idea where he might be?”
The man shrugged, rolling the dice with a practiced flick of his wrist. “Heard he’s been keeping different company these days. Don’t know where, though. Sorry, Your Grace.”
Simon nodded, suppressing his frustration. “Thank you for your time.”
“Different company?” Simon repeated once they were out of earshot. “Now what in heavens is that supposed to mean?”
“I do not think it can get any worse than this,” Anthony chuckled. “So perhaps little Tobias has finally changed his ways. Maybe he keeps better company now?”
“I doubt that those men knew much,” Simon noted in his frustration. “Tobias was one to keep many friends — but always kept them at an arms distance. I do not think he would be discussing his next moves with anyone here.”
Anthony placed his hands on his thigh, “Well, what other choice to we have? Any other place we can look?”
Simon pressed his lips together in a tight line. “Unfortunately, this is likely our best bet. Let us keep asking around.”
They moved through the different tables; each person had a different thing to say. Some of them too inebriated to give straight answers, but would always try to when they realized that they were speaking to a duke.
By the end of it, both men were beginning to feel rather stumped. They had been searching for him for the better part of the last hour, but had made almost no progress.
“Your brother certainly knows how to elude us,” Anthony remarked as they moved to a quieter corner of the room to take a little break.
“It’s a talent he’s honed over the years,” Simon replied with a wry smile. “He’s always had a knack for finding trouble and then slipping away when it suits him.”
Anthony laughed, clapping Simon on the shoulder. “You sound like a disapproving father.”
“Sometimes I feel like one,” Simon admitted, glancing around the room once more. “As such, I can’t help worrying about him. He has a tendency to make poor choices.”
“You know he respects you, Simon,” Anthony said, his tone sincere. “Even if he doesn’t always show it.”
Simon did not respond to that. His relationship with his brother was strained. It was not out of any enmity for one another, but rather, the trouble that Tobias always got himself into made for some really tense conversations between them over the years.
“Perhaps we should try our luck tomorrow?” Simon suggested, sighing in defeat.
