The Wanderer set up his stall on the main square of Tuskdale, next to Arsinoe, an aasimar priestess of Abadar, infamous for her cruel pricing of Scrolls of Raise Dead. He had a few spectacular items of elven handicraft for sale, from weapons to clothing (loot collected over the years from notable enemies of Pharasma), and some goods of general interest sourced underway. A travelling merchant was always a useful disguise, even if he had a limited product range to sell. Adventurers would come and get rid of sackloads of useless loot, then get bored around the fifteenth masterwork dagger and tell a story.

This time he used his birth name, Enneo, reckoning that it would ring just as unfamiliar in this godsforsaken land as any pseudonym, and he did next to nothing to alter his original looks, either. He had used an entire fireflask to lay Dalton's wig to rest, along with its inhabitants, and his short chestnut hair with only a wisp of grey in gave him an appearance different enough from his previous alias. He liked to play with fire, anyway. If the baroness recognised him, her reaction would tell a lot about what kind of person she'd grown into. That was unlikely, though. Before the encounter in the troll-infested Narlmarches, only once had he met her face to face, decades ago, under the full moon. It had cost him a very expensive restoration and curse removal treatment. She, however, couldn't possibly remember anything, other than his scent and the taste of his blood.

But all that was of secondary importance. He had put his plan in motion, and he had to supervise its correct execution.

He'd been told that the baroness regularly appeared among the common folk to gauge the situation in town personally. Indeed, as early as his second day in Tuskdale, she visited his stand, accompanied by another elf, whom the Wanderer recognised as the ranger of unclear gender.

"Rejoice, brethren! Our sister Falara has given birth to a new cub for the pack, and survived! All hail the Mother!"

Enneo was scrambling to recover his mind from the southern reaches of the Fierani Forest in Kyonin, home to many wonders and monstrosities. Oh, how he hated flashbacks. They were usually connected with Flavia, his long dead companion, friend and almost wife, made him realise how much he missed her, and also made him zone out at the worst moments.

To his luck, the baroness found herself in a similar situation, just like in the Narlmarches. The friendly handshake lasted for far too long, and the silence was getting awkward.

The baroness was the first to recover.

"Welcome to Tuskdale, traveller," she said, a light smile plastered on her face to hide her unease. "Should you need my support, you know where to find me."

That he knew, indeed. He already knew where to find Jaethal Frozen Lake, too. And he also knew that Nortellara Frozen Lake was intrigued by the relationship between her exiled mother and Baroness Guelder of Nightvale, whose origins were unknown to most save Enneo himself. Now he had the opportunity to ferret out more details about the baroness, but truth be told, he couldn't be bothered. The fact that she harboured Jaethal Frozen Lake told him enough of her true nature.

And now he had to catch the bird before it started to suspect anything.

Hazel didn't like Enneo. Not one bit. The seemingly polite but provocative way he'd looked at Guelder, the way he'd held her hand for a long, long moment, as though unable to let go... Why did everyone have to take a shine to her, from half-orc fugitives to angel-faced clerics to wandering merchants? However, Hazel had to stay professional. They browsed through Enneo's assortment of wares for anything the field team could use, and they had a few ideas for purchases. Now they only had to convince Guelder to sign off splurging more than 20,000 gold from the rickety state budget on gear.

"The same type of boots as yours," they enthused. "You know how hard it is to come by decent boots in this—"

"Backwater?" snapped Guelder.

"In this quaint little corner of the River Kingdoms," grinned Hazel.

"Indeed, Boots of Elvenkind offer a different quality of life," admitted Guelder wistfully. "There is a reason why I was so eager to retrieve mine from the Stag Lord's ruffians after we took the fort. Almost like walking barefoot, but without the sharp rocks. However, 20,000 gold is way too much to spend in one go. Stay below 15,000. That must cover the boots for you and the electrified longbow for Ekun."

"How about the elven curve blades?"

"Forget them. Nobody uses them on the team."

"They would add such a nice touch of decoration to the throne room. A symbol of your ancestry, if you like."

Guelder stopped in her tracks and turned to face them.

"Hazel, I am not buying decoration," she said sternly. "Do not make me reassess your suitability to the Treasurer's position."

"Does this mean you do not allow me to buy a mirror for you, either?"

"A mirror? For me? Why?"

"Because I know for a fact that you do not have one."

"I lived happily for years without a mirror. I do not need it."

"Yes, you do," explained Hazel. "As a ruler, you must be mindful of your looks. I love you the way you are, but public appearances require a bit more than licking your fur clean every morning. Jaethal! Hey, Jaethal! Come tell her!"

Jaethal, going about her business at the other edge of the main square, suddenly changed direction and strode over to join them.

"Tell whom what?" she asked.

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"Tell Her Grace why she needs a mirror."

"Of course you need a mirror, child," said Jaethal. "Today you receive an envoy who spots your poorly groomed eyebrows or a stray bit of parsley stuck between your front teeth, and tomorrow all the River Kingdoms will gossip about your uncouthness. Not to mention that when you finally make up your mind and take a deep dive into carnal pleasures, you will find that a mirror is very handy to spice it up. You might want one above your bed, too."

Hazel suppressed a chuckle. The baroness let out a weary sigh, wishing to end this conversation.

"Meh... fine," she said. "I can put a veil over it whenever I do not use it."

"And why would you do that?" asked Jaethal, narrowing her eyes. "You have absolutely no reason to avoid seeing your reflection."

Guelder set her jaw in defiance, like a pouting child.

"Because I hate mirrors. Am I not allowed to have preferences?"

"You are scared of them," teased her Hazel. "Have you still not moved past that?"

The baroness remained silent, blushing furiously.

"Actually, this is kind of sweet," said Hazel with a warm smile. "A wild daughter of the forest, frightened by the wondrous achievements of modern technology, such as mirrors... I will get a veil for you to cover it, if you wish."

"No," protested Jaethal. "She must get rid of this weakness before her enemies can exploit it. Now that already two of us know about it, the danger is real."

"So that will be three items," summarised Guelder, regaining her composure. "Push the price below 10,000 gold altogether, if you can. And once again, forget the curve blades."

"All right," nodded Hazel. "In case we do not find anything else."

However, as it turned out, Enneo's wagon hid further treasures. After he failed to talk Hazel into buying the curve blades, he presented a few more items that they might find interesting. Guelder stood a bit further off with Pangur and Jaethal, keeping an eye on the Treasurer, so that they didn't get carried away. Hazel immersed themself in haggling, but before they reached an agreement with the merchant, they heard a low growl.

They knew this sound. It was Pangur reacting to Guelder's distress.

Hazel tore their eyes away from the assortment of wares. They saw Guelder squatting beside her beast friend, her fingers curled into a fist, grabbing a handful of fur. Her face was pale, her lips trembled. Her eyes were fixed on a dagger with a serrated blade and a gilded hilt decorated with empty sockets for gems.

And curiously enough, Jaethal's gaze was locked onto the same weapon.

"Where did you get this, half-blood?" she hissed.

Assessing the situation quickly, Hazel grabbed the scruff of a gawking boy and sent him to fetch Captain Hyland and the guards. While they were busy trying to calm down Jaethal and prevent the situation from escalating into bloodshed, Guelder vanished from the square.

Hazel left the guards to do their job and rushed up the stairs to the throne room, taking the steps two at a time. They almost crashed into Valerie. The Regent was idling in front of the door to Guelder's private quarters, staring into nothing and tormenting a piece of paper in her fist.

"Where did she go?" demanded Hazel.

"Who?" asked Valerie, startled out of her thoughts.

"Guelder."

"Um... The gardens, I think. Is something wrong?"

Hazel swore under their breath in Elven.

"She freaked out at something and bolted, which is bad because Jaethal will be here in a minute with a merchant and the guards. Could you entertain them while I retrieve Guelder? Please?"

"I can try," said Valerie, a bit uncertainly. "Does she have her scythe? Shall I get my tower shield?"

"Your personal authority will be enough... I think. Good luck!"

Hazel gave her a reassuring pat on the arm, then hurried through the side exit leading into the palace gardens, where Guelder had already planted a few cuttings from native shrubs and encouraged wildflowers to run amok. They found her in leopard form, curled up in a nook under a young whitethorn. Pangur lay between her hiding place and the garden path, prepared for the eventuality that someone would come look for her.

"Guel," said Hazel softly, going down on all fours and crawling closer. Pangur hissed at them to scare them off, but they knew this was only a half-hearted threat. He knew they meant no harm to his mistress. "No need to be afraid. I am here for you."

Guelder finally extricated herself and looked at them with wild eyes. Leopard form or not, Hazel saw the same feral girl as many years ago, frightened, wounded, distrustful—but this time the wounds seemed to be inside her head. Hazel reached out towards her. Pangur flashed his fangs as a discreet warning.

"Come to me. Please."

She didn't show the slightest intention to restrain her beast friend, so Hazel saw it better to retreat. They sat on their heels and dusted the dirt and leaf mould off their hands.

"Fine, Guel, I shall wait until you feel ready. But there is not much time. I have never seen Jaethal this furious. If she mows down the guards, Enneo and Valerie while you are dallying here, do not blame me."

Thankfully, that worked. Guelder got ahold of herself and clambered out from under the shrub. She shook herself, then dropped the shapeshift.

"Am I needed in the throne room?" she asked, avoiding Hazel's eyes.

"Yes, you have some baronessing to do. If you wish, I can hold your hand while Jaethal and Enneo explain themselves."

Guelder shook her head.

"I will be fine," she said. "Thanks, anyway."

Well, she was everything but fine. She stared at the floor with an expressionless gaze while Jaethal dragged Enneo to justice, and looked to Valerie for support when she was expected to say something. The Regent wisely put Enneo under house arrest until they investigated his case, and ordered Jaethal to stay away from him.

Following the extraordinary audience, Guelder retreated to her private quarters and locked the door, refusing Hazel's offer to keep her company. So the Treasurer departed to seize Enneo's goods for safekeeping by the state, just in case.

Should he prove to be guilty, Hazel would get those curve blades for free.