“What?” Leila said.
Chase handed a packet of papers off to Leila. “I combed through all known bookies and gambling rings in fae society—across several regions, even. No one has Lord Linus as a client, and he has no outstanding debts.”
“I don’t believe it,” Leila said. “He openly admitted he wanted to be my advisor because his utilities had been turned off at his house since he didn’t have any money to pay them!”
“The utilities are turned off at his family mansion,” Chase confirmed. “But they’ve been off for over a decade. Lord Linus spent the past twenty years traveling across North America, South America, and Europe. His house was winterized and shut down since he never returned to it.”
Leila nibbled on a sweet roll. “But I’veseenhim actively try to start card games, and place bets. And he always loses!”
“He does,” Chase confirmed. “But he always pays out his account by the end of the night—typically after winning everything back with one or two lucky games.”
“So he is still a gamester or gambler or whatever you want to call it,” Leila said.
“Yes. Just one that isn’t in debt,” Chase said.
Leila licked frosting off her finger. “How the heck could he lose so badly, and then suddenly win?”
“It seems rather suspicious that he always makes enough to cover his deficit and nothing more,” Chase confirmed.
“And you’repositivehe doesn’t have any outstanding debts?”
“We traced his accounts, bank transactions, cashflow—nothing,” Chase said.
Leila whistled. “That sounds illegal. How did you pull it off?”
“A wolf in my pack is good at this kind of thing. I asked him for some help,” Chase said. “And I asked Lord Linus for access to his banking information.”
Leila choked on her sweet roll. “And hegaveit to you?”
Chase nodded.
Leila groaned and flopped an arm across her eyes. “I can’t tell if he’s a genius, or an absolute idiot!”
Chase passed me an empty teacup—probably meant for Leila, but as she disliked tea it was an empty hope she’d ever drink it—and poured me a cup as Leila complained under her breath.
I nodded my head in thanks and took a sip. It was a white tea—soft and delicate with a faint tang of pineapple.
Once she finished, Leila sighed and sat up straight in her chair.
“Your orders?” Chase inquired.
“Keep monitoring him,” Leila said.
“Yes, Queen Leila.”
“Thanks, Chase. I’m so grateful you’re my director of security.” She blessed the werewolf with a bright smile, then turned her unusual charm on me. “How are you, Rigel?”
“Fine.”
Chase twitched his nose—he was probably picking up the faintest whiff of blood, or something else from my night’s excursion. The blasted werewolf.
Leila caught Chase’s movement, then narrowed her eyes at me. “Please don’t tell me you were off working tonight?”
I shrugged. “Very well.”
Leila rolled her eyes. “Thank you, darling. Your respect for my feelings is inspiring.”
“What good consort wouldn’t be concerned for his wife’s wellbeing?” I asked, neatly sidestepping any personal implications with my phrasing.
