When I eventually recover enough from my embarrassment to take my head off the table, the mood is highly awkward. Nobody has said a single word since Briareth’s “Sorry”. Briareth is tending the fire and Faladel is playing solitaire. We each carefully avoid making conversation except when strictly necessary for the next couple of hours.

I don’t really mind the silence. It allows me to think, to refocus myself on why we’re really here. Assassination. Peace. Returning home. Those are my goals. Those have always been my goals. Possibly crushing on a prince isn’t among them, and will not be among them, although being friends and staying friends after all this would be nice.

Someone eventually comes to clear away the tea tray, and brings supper back. While we eat, I formally forgive Briareth, even though in my head I forgave him hours ago. This lightens up the mood a bit, but overall we’re still too quiet as we head to bed. Faladel has always been quiet, and with Briareth seemingly stepping on eggshells now, and me not good at starting conversations, we have quickly gone from a bright cheerful group to almost as somber as a funeral. Instead of happily wishing all of us goodnight as we each climb into our cots that are set up at the far end of the room, Briareth sits on his and stares introspectively at the fireplace. I watch him until I fall asleep.

In the morning things are brighter, more cheerful, especially when Blix and Yaluda arrive with breakfast. They’d visited the kitchens and brought back with them a bunch of fresh, deliciously sweet pastries and jam filled breads. As we happily devour the warm, fluffy goodies, Yaluda says that one of his guard members got in contact with Ludgera and she’d suggested bringing her boyfriend in on this today, and at the same time going over the blackmail she has.

“Isn’t this all happening a little fast?” I ask.

“Better to throw ourselves in the deep end then act too slowly and get caught.” Blix replies firmly. “We’re prepared for at least this much, and the faster we act, the less time our enemies have to prepare a counterattack. Basic wartime strategies.” I nod slowly, understanding his reasoning.

“Since we’re all agreed,” Yaluda shoots a quick glance at Faladel and Briareth, neither of whom raise an objection, “I told her to come after breakfast. She should be here within the hour. She’ll pretty much be in and out, dropping off her evidence, and introducing her boyfriend to the lot of us. We agreed that he won’t be told anything beforehand or have any knowledge of where this room is located.”

"Excellent." Faladel confirms.

"Will you be hanging out with us until they come then?" Briareth asks.

"Of course." Blix confirms for himself and Yaluda. “We even brought more teabags.”

I roll my eyes while Faladel enthusiastically inspects them. “I would never have guessed that dwarves have so many types of teas.” He says. “Is this tea actually blue?” He asks, pointing out one jar with only blossoms.

“Yes, but if you add lemon, which I like to, it turns purple.” Yaluda confirms. Faladel, obviously intrigued, goes to make us a pot of blue tea.

Blix and I pass on the tea, but Faladel, Yaluda and Briareth sip happily as we just talk. Sometimes it’s about coup plans, often times about culture differences, and a few times plans for what they want to accomplish after the war ends and peace is reached. Faladel quizzes Yaluda at one point on religious policy, and how that intersects with public policy for the dwarves.

I watch, slightly in awe, as Yaluda highlights his plans to slowly strip political power from the church. It's a plan that will take decades, it might not even be finished within his lifetime, but he has it all planned out. He even has a few safety strategies in place for when things inevitably will go wrong. Blix chimes in a couple of times, pointing out weaknesses that Yaluda needs to protect from, but it’s in more of a coaching fashion than in real criticism. I watch as Yaluda comes up with solutions on the spot. I knew he disliked the church, I mean, I don’t hold much fondness for it either, but he actually plans on taking action and doing something about it. Since he’s the prince, I probably shouldn’t be surprised, but this isn’t the only thing he’s put such detailed thought into. Further talks reveal he has at least that much detail on even the most minute policies that Faladel brings up.

When I compliment him on it, he flushes slightly and says. “Remember my words from when we first met in this room? I’ve been ready to take over my dad’s position for years.”

“Yeah, and now you want to speed that process up a bit.” I reply, recalling the rest of his bluff.

“Ugghhh…” He groans. “Please don’t remind me. I don’t even know how I thought you all would fall for that.” A soft knock comes from the door, interrupting us, and Yaluda straightens. The knock repeats itself, two hard, three soft. “She’s here.” He says, and then, louder. “Enter.”

Someone, presumably a member of the PPG, opens the door, and in walks Ludgera, wearing a surprisingly businesslike day dress that mimics the army uniforms button pattern, and another young dwarf with the Yamat’s Unending Eyes embroidered on his off-shoulder cape, bright scarlet curls, and a black blindfold covering his eyes.

“Are we there yet?” He asks, turning his head towards Ludgera, even though it's useless since he can’t see her.

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“Yes, you can take off the blindfold now, Agnark.” Ludgera says calmly. “Let me help you.” His blindfold comes off, and his startling purple eyes stare out at us, shocked at the scene he’s taking in.

“Wai–wha–what?” he stutters, turning to look at his girlfriend for an explanation. “Those are the escaped prisoners right? And that’s the heretic prince?”

“Yes, they are.” Ludgera confirms, “Give me a chance to explain, Agnark, I know your families have no lost love for eachother, but they can help us.”

“And what do they want in return?” Agnark asks, shooting a burning glare at Yaluda and Blix. I gulp. There is a lot of pent up hatred in that glare, even Ludgera notices.

“Just information, stuff I’ve been collecting on the high priest. You know, I’ve told you about some of the stuff my family has on file against him. Tax evasion, bribery, drug smuggling, that weird cult thing…”

“UMM What?!” Blix and Faladel say simultaneously.

“How do you know you can trust them with that sort of thing?! Over half of them are elves for goodness sake!” Agnark bursts, Ludgera puts a soothing hand on his shoulder.

“Uhhh… I’m not sure where you’re seeing a third elf.” I protest.

“You’re an elf lover and a traitor, you count as one of them.” Agnark says, brushing me off.

“Sorry!” Ludgera mouths behind her boyfriend's back at my indignant expression. She puts a steadying hand on his shoulder. “I know it’s a lot to take in Agnark, but you don’t have to be rude. I don’t know if they can be trusted, but they don’t know that they can trust you and me either. So really, it all works out.”

He frowns at her, but doesn’t dispute it. Instead he says, “We need to have a long talk about this later, when nobody else is listening in.”

Briareth slurps his tea loudly. “Oh don’t mind us. You can continue as long as you want.”

“We really shouldn’t.” Ludgera says, “I only told my mother I was out for a walk, I need to get back pretty much as soon as I can. Meet me tonight, Agnark? In the usual place?”

Agnark’s eyes soften. No matter how he feels about us, he’s clearly not angry with her. “Of course.” He says gently. “I look forward to seeing you then, skipper squirrel.”

It’s obviously some sort of nickname, because she chuckles, smiles, and replies in turn.“Me too, my prickly hedgehog.” She leans forward and caresses his cheek. I look away, embarrassed to have seen such a sight. “Promise me you won’t make any rash decisions in that time?”

“I promise.” He reassures her. Then, turning to stare at our table group coldly. “Do I have to wear the blindfold on my way out too, Your Highness?” He loads the words with acid, but Yaluda doesn’t seem to mind.

“Of course. I’ll have one of the guards escort you.” He says, full of rigid formality. At the click of his fingers and a sharp whistle, a guard enters. When he leans towards Yaluda for instructions, I hear Yaluda whisper, “Take him the long way round, through the servants tunnels. And then walk him around outside a bit before dropping him back here in front of the tower’s doors. Let him be confused.”

Right before the blindfold goes back on, Agnark shoots one more worried look at Ludgera. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. I just have to explain all the blackmail to Yaluda and–”

“Please don’t call him by his name.” Agark interrupts, and I think I detect more than a little jealousy.

“Fine.” Ludgera smiles indulgently. “I need to explain the blackmail to the Prince, but we’ll see each other again before you know it.”

Agnark is obviously not entirely convinced, but allows himself to be blindfolded and led out of the room. As soon as he’s gone, Ludgera turns to us, and drops a bundle of tied together papers on the table, right next to the nearly empty plate of breakfast pastries. She pulls another bundle of papers from a discreet pocket in her dress, and, following my gaze towards these strange additions, explains, “The dress is custom designed to suit my needs. My parents were generous.”

“This–” She continues, untying one of the bundles of paper and splitting it into three groups, “Is the paperwork surrounding all of the blackmailing and smuggling the high priest has been doing to keep his drug dens secret and well stocked with Blumwort, Cailing, and numerous other illegal substances. There are also records proving the purchase of the drugs, sketches of some of the officials involved, and eyewitness testimonies to their authenticity and the existence of unlicensed and blatantly illegal drug dens in some of the major city chapels, along with one that exists in the palace chapel. Since inebriation of the mind during worship breaks some of the cardinal doctrines of the church, there is no way the high priest, who would be judged in an internal court, would remain in power after this. After all, more than a few of these papers have his signature on them.

“This second one,” She begins untying and sorting the next group, “Includes all the churches tax records, donation statements, and claimed profits from subsidiary businesses. Ever since the high priest took power, the amount claimed in donations has skyrocketed, and the subsidiaries wouldn’t even appear to cover their building’s costs. Which is blatantly different from what their records have shown is normal for the past two-hundred years. They’re obviously avoiding business taxes by claiming them as ‘donations’. The church didn’t even try to cover this up, because the tax officials are so busy and their pay so miserable, that it was easier to bribe them to keep it out of the limelight instead.

“How did you get your hands on those?” Yaluda asks, seemingly impressed despite himself.

“I have a penchant for sneaking into off-limits areas when I’m supposed to be at parties. Whenever I’m caught, I just act drunk out of my mind. Gets me away everytime, and no one questions that sort of behavior from a lower noble.” She snorts, “I might actually miss that.”

"And you're sure of their authenticity?" Blix presses.

"Of course." Ludgera replies, almost indignant. "They came from the home offices of the Head Secretary of the Treasury, a Major General, and Lord Yamat himself! You can peruse them at will and they will stand up to any sort of scrutiny."

"Excellent work." Briareth says briefly scanning a few of the documents. "But I imagine the Head Secretary of the Treasury doesn't throw parties a lot. How did you manage to get into his home office?"

"A girls got to have some secrets." Ludgera retorts. Briareth studies her

"And a very good pair of climbing boots I'd hazard." He adds.