Lucius wondered as he sifted through his memories.
Had it been a year?
Much longer?
Would his previous contacts and clients still be alive? These questions lingered, unanswerable, even by his guest.
“So, Tavia,” he said, needing to break from his disappointing thoughts, “why were you tracking that caravan?”
Her gaze dropped to the floor as she drank. Her leftleg bounced as if the answer caused her distress.
“I assumed they had gold. Lots of it,” she said, before drinking again and draining the rest of her glass. She set it on the side table next to the couch.
“I know you're a thief,” Lucius said evenly. “But why waste all that skill on one caravan? Surely someone with your capabilities would be part of the Thieves Guild.”
She frowned.
“This isn't a permanent job,” she said curtly. “I'm only doing this to gather enough coin.”
When she didn’t elaborate, Lucius pressed her. “Go on.”
“I don’t know you,” she replied sharply. “And I'd rather not share my darkest secrets.”
Lucius smirked, leaning back, relishing the way her cheeks flushed.
“We don’t need to get that acquainted—yet. But,” he said, standing and grabbing her empty goblet, “I do think we should have a better understanding of each other if we’re going to work together.”
“Why do you need me?”
He didn’t want to explain all the details.
His mind was still dusty from all the events that had taken place, and he didn’t want to relay the truth to this fae. Though Tavia seemed formidable, it was a female who had betrayed Lucius’s trust, and he would not be so trusting again.
Bringing her a refilled glass, Lucius returned to his seat, running a finger along the goblet’s rim. While the wine’s dry notes of cinnamon and cherries teased his senses, it did little to ease the hunger burning in his chest. The two humans he had fed on earlier had not been enough, and he would need to venture into the woods tonight to find some helpless creature—before his fangs ended up in his guest’s delicate neck.
“Tell me, Tavia,” Lucius said, breaking the silence. “What news is there?”
Her gaze narrowed as she tilted her head slightly.
“Well,” she began, “it’s the hundredth anniversary of the Rift being closed.”
That gave Lucius pause.
A hundred years? That is much longer than I anticipated.
The Rift’s closure marked the beginning of his captivity. The world had been celebrating, and hehad been eager to join in the festivities—joining with a feisty fae who had loved the finer things in life as much as he did.
Instead of focusing on how dreadful the past hundred years had been, he focused on the future—if only to keep himself sane.
“A hundredth anniversary,” he murmured. “Which means there will be a magnificent celebration.”
Lucius leaned forward, an idea forming. “If the person I’m searching for is alive, they wouldn’t miss the grandest party of the year. Which means you and I will be attending. Help me retrieve what was stolen from me, and you will have enough coin to last you years.”
He stood abruptly and walked to the window, not wanting to answer any inquisitive questions from his guest.
The first rays of sunlight peeked over the horizon. Soon, the markets would open, and he could start gathering information. But first, he and his guest would need disguises.
Turning back to Tavia, he smiled faintly. “You and I will need a change of appearance.”
