669 had deliberated on the decision to visit the Peony Soap House during the day, but he had his concerns about Bosgar's last words to him. As much as Maud was a slightly shifty and cunning person, he had also been loyal to him throughout the years. They had shared a friendship that, despite their line of businesses, had lasted as strongly as it did.

“A friend in the fire is clear water wasted to the mire.”

669 was many things, but he helped his friends the best he could. So he thought through many ways to prove Maud’s innocence. Especially, when he didn’t believe that the man would have killed Marcus. For starters, both men had an amicable yet irrelevant relationship with each other than soap house transactions. Maud was only ever interested in his business and ensuring everything ran smoothly. Even if Marcus had cheated him on a transaction, owed money or damaged a product, their relationship wouldn’t change. It was always in Maud’s best interest to keep his patron nobles satisfied.

“Unlike my hands that have dealt death so many times.” He sighed and whipped out his hand fan to relish the cold breeze, which his fan slapped against his cheeks.

At least he had a chance to be a civilian for the day. He wore his navy paisley suit as a pleasant distraction from his majestic will: stepping one stone at a time on the path of a common man.

The Market District streets were displaying less color and more mud on stone for this time of year. Fewer stalls were opened for business, so crowds were thinner. Wintide was the chance to recuperate and hibernate. Only the bare essential merchants tended to operate: clustered around market tavern.

A flock of Thunderbirds caught his line of vision. He watched their small bodies fly a straight trail across the waning daylight. They knew what they had to do and their destination.

“What do I have to do to help Maud? And me, for that matter.” 669 questioned himself as he watched the birds fade from his view.

An answered formed in his head. The obvious: find out who falsified Maud’s hand to the murder. So far his only lead with Bosgar, but he doubted the man would be so bold. He would need to figure out the rest as he went.

He continued to the soap house without deviation: arriving in the early hours of night. The energy was a subdued mood, as he wandered through the entrance hallways strung with festival and vivid colored pink, red, orange and gold paper lanterns. Only a handful were lit to guide the way that seemed dull, almost lifeless.

“When the swan’s tears of mourning dried the colored flowers to gray,” 669 whispered his sad idiom that reflected the mood surrounding him.

He entered the entertainment floor, which was void of music and dancing. There were guests, but rather have their energies invigorated with the charade of beauty and party, they were being attended too with somber conversations and wine tasting.

“It’s that bad.”

“669.” Molly said nothing more as she came up next to him. Then turned to lead the way.

He followed her up the stairs to the second floor, and into one of the VIP bedrooms, similar to the one he had met Bosgar with 789.

She closed the door, so they were standing in the middle of the room alone.

“The Royal Guard came for him this morning.” She stated facts of her incident with neither emotion nor indication of concern.

669 gestured to one of the cushioned, gold and red, padded armchairs. She shook her head and nodded for him to sit.

“Why?”

“They found evidence of him being connected to a syndicate, involving Marcus Poirot’s death.”

“The Hell-4? That’s no secret. The Royal Guard has known this for years.” He eased back on the chair, crossed one leg over the other, and began daintily fanning his face.

Molly sighed, dropping some of her guard around him. She didn’t like 669: not as a person but because of what he represented. Operation Henchmen were given privileges to work as a standalone business. A sub-role no other servant role could amass. They had the freedom to walk around on their own version of orders. It didn’t matter how they completed their job as long as they did it. She had so desired for this kind of freedom and had failed to obtain it through her own merits when she was given the chance: and there could only be one. And so, she disliked him because he had achieved what she couldn’t be. Her life was destined to be Maud’s shadow guard for the rest of her days.

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669 raised an eyebrow with surprise at seeing a bit of her guard drop. He had long suspected her dislike for him was a personal reflection of her failure and set life as more than just a simple bodyguard, but a Shadow Guard. Henchmen (usually failures) who were privatized, or bluntly put, sold to merchants, nobles and businesses were sworn to be shadow guards to the ones who purchased them. And so the honor of fighting for the Grand Demon Overlord was replaced with a Soul Spell binding their loyalty to their owner. If they failed in their duty, their life could be sacrificed.

It was clear that Molly approaching him was on Maud’s behalf.

“It wasn’t the Hell-4 family syndicate, but a mysterious organization I’ve never heard before.”

He sat upright and snapped his fan closed. “What did he have?”

“Captain Lucas received a tip that they had seen Maud trading illegal goods with Marcus. This tip seemed to come from a ‘credible’ source. So they gained a warrant to search our stores, and when nothing showed up, they searched his office and safe and found a silver disc.”

His eyes widened with concern. “Let me guess, one of the guards grabbed the disk and suffered some kind of magic attack.”

She nodded.

“The disc not only absorbed his magic, but all of his virya instantly. He couldn’t be saved without others being caught in the hold. Not even dust was remaining of him in the end.”

She further explained that the Captain had been able to carefully seal the disc in an evidence pouch. This was enough for the Royal Guard to arrest Maud on suspicion of collusion with terrorists and manslaughter.

“Wait. Terrorists?”

She nodded. “The foolish fantasy they’ve pieced together is that Maud used Marcus to obtain an artifact from the Dry Well Sands. I won’t repeat their silly notions on reasons as to why. He then had Fairy Blossom kill Marcus with this disc’s magic to make it seemed he fell to his death in an accident. They feel that she was blackmailing Maud, who had her killed to look like suicide but as a warning to others.”

“What?! That’s absurd. There are no grounds for this, surely!” 669 bolted out of his seat.

“It seems there are. One Royal Guard made into ash is reason enough. Until proven innocent, I’m handling business at a minimum.” She soberly stepped toward the window to stare out to a starless night sky over wood, stone and brick buildings. Light snow began to fall, flowing sideways as it complied with the growing winds.

“But, what makes them think this group are terrorists?” 669 blurted struggling to fathom what he was hearing about his friend. But as he rolled the supposed facts around his head, it seemed to click into place. The victims had a connection to the soap house and those silver discs laced with forbidden magic.

Molly answered with a wry expression.

“No. I get it. I just don’t get it as well. This is Maud we’re talking about.”

“I know. My question to you is what are you planning to do about it?”

She returned her attention to him. “I saw you and your body language told me you knew about Maud’s arrest.”

“I heard the rumor of the arrest, but I wasn’t sure. So, I came to see you about it.”

“And this rumor was told to you by?”

669 peered into her eyes as he quickly debated on reasons to tell her or not. In the end, Bosgar wasn’t a fool. He felt the man was up to something, so it was better to see what cards he would play out by Molly being aware.

“Bosgar Poirot.” He rubbed his chin with his thoughts. “It makes me wonder how he knew and when.”

“Then it is probably best you seek him out for the answer. And soon. If they present a solid case to the Judiciary, they will execute him.” Her voice was steady, but he detected a waver: a small hint of her fear at facing her own pending death. As the shadow guard dies with their bound master, so she would die upon Maud’s death.

669 shook his head. “No. I think he’ll continue to be vague. He had warned me to stay out of the case. Even to say that Maud was the murderer. So, it’s better I don’t seek him out.”

“So you were ordered to stay out of the case?” Molly frowned and clasped her hands tightly behind her back. So much so it made her knuckles go white.

He sighed and nodded. “By my bosses. And, frankly, I wasn’t going to disobey that order. But with Maud in his situation… Okay. I’ll do what I can.”

669 turned and began walking out of the room.

“669.”

He paused and glanced at her over his shoulder.

“Good luck. The future of this business, mine and Maud’s lives, are hanging on your success.”

He nodded again and left the soap house.