Hesperus. When ‘Rosalind by Any Other Name’ wasn’t too busy describing Leolin’s golden hair and Tristram’s crimson eyes, it would wax lyrical about Hesperus’s skills as a fire mage, note his great intelligence and mention his fiery loyalty to his friends. Not that he was supposed to have many of those.

All of the above made him a convenient rival-turned-ally in the book, and made him a great inconvenience in Ari’s life right now.

‘Suddenly? You think I’ve changed suddenly?’ she said. ‘It’s not as sudden as you’d think, considering we have not spoken for…’

‘…near on three years, has it not?’ Claribel drew her body up with poise, dusting off stray strands of hay, rising to her full height. She met Hesperus eye-to-eye. ‘I hope you have been keeping yourself well in the name of the Fated One. In truth, I came here to see His Grace for a personal matter, but on my way here, I saw sketches of Lord Selvan and thought of you. He was your close friend, was he not? You used to scheme together and fill Master Keating’s seat-cushions with mud and worms to get back at Lord Bernan and him both, did you not?’

Hesperus flinched. ‘How did you…’

‘Don’t think I didn’t know it was the two of you just because I never told on you. Master Keating brought it up at the last Court of Assistants, you know. He still thinks it was Lord Bernan’s fault. Unrelated, of course, he has voted against Lord Bernan attaining the title of Master for yet another year.’

‘Oh. I didn’t think it’d still matter now. I’ll talk to Master Keating… I…’

‘No need. His was not the only vote. Some people change, but some do not. Lord Bernan has not. I told you it’s unrelated, didn’t I? He does not deserve the title of Master.’

There. That had to be enough to convince that the woman who stood before him was none other than Claribel. A half-truth.

Still, he glared at her, as if he could see…

A book lay open on the picnic blanket, tartan, red and black. Max pushed his hair out of his eyes and squinted at her through the sunlight.

‘Listen to this. “Children who grow up in unstable households become able to read micro-expressions.” Do you think that’s why you’ve got a sixth sense for danger? It’s like some survival instinct superpower.’

‘Pfft. Superpower? You think it’s a superpower to think that someone who looks slightly uncomfortable because they’ve got corn-on-the-cob stuck between their teeth is actually furious and about to kill me?’

Could Hesperus see traces of Ari hidden within Claribel’s façade?

‘Hes! Hes! What are you guys talking about?’ Finn to the rescue.

‘Woodlice,’ she said. ‘They’re gone now, see? I used to be frightened of them too, but with old age comes wisdom. Sometimes.’

Finn nodded, satisfied. ‘You are very old. Can we carry on playing then? Hes, do you want to join in? I know you’re pretty slow and you’ll probably lose against Master Claribel, but there’s always a chance…’

‘I’ve just realised the time,’ lied Ari, because she didn’t have a watch, and Hesperus must not have been able to treat himself to one of Master Forgot-His-Name-Again’s clocks. ‘I came here in search of His Grace, as there is an important personal matter I needed – still need – to talk to him about, but I’ve got the Guild…’

<…meeting thing…>

‘…Court of Assistants… coming up, and there is much to cover on the agenda. We shall have to continue the game another time. When Hes improves the log bridge, perhaps.’

‘But…’

‘Finn,’ said Hesperus with a gentleness that had not been directed at her, ‘you know how important Court of Assistants are. Master Claribel is a Warden. We can’t detain her any further. Why don’t we give her an even warmer welcome next time once we’ve improved our Bridge of Everlasting Doom?’

Ari flashed Finn her best smile and retreated through the single door into the single room in Hesperus’s so-called manor.

As she flashed her second smile to the bowing form of Nanny Jesse, the sleeve on her guild robes brushed against a frame on the table, and it slid onto the floor with a thud.

‘My apologies!’ said Ari, missing her fitted leather jacket yet again.

She bent down to pick it up…

~That’s because we need to show that we can afford more fabric. If people start questioning the vault of gold in Aquilon, we’re in trouble. That’s how Taur–’

…and froze.

It had been a canvas the size of a paperback pinned onto a simple wooden frame, laid face-down, obscuring a portrait in oils of a man who stared haughtily at the world, sporting a puff-sleeved doublet that had eyelets of flowers cut into the forearms and ruffles down the neck and wrists. Even when painted, he had contempt to spare for Ari.

‘Tell me you’ve found her already. No? What a surprise. After your complete and utter failure against the Red Raven, I didn’t expect much from you, but you still managed to disappoint. Really now, Ari Lee, all those years of feeding and clothing you, the least you could do was try.’

‘…should have put it away,’ Hesperus was saying, clutching onto the other end of the portrait. ‘Finn dug it out last night, and I haven’t decided whether to put it back into storage. Are you… all right? I don’t think you’ve met my father, have you? If he had treated you poorly at any point in the past, then please allow me to apologise sincerely on his behalf.’

It was one thing to read snippets of Hesperus’s relationship with his father in a book, but another to put a face to that name. That face to that name. Against all logic, it was as if she could glimpse into his past, unwritten.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

‘Oh no. Not at all. I was just… surprised,’ said Ari. ‘I didn’t think you were on good terms with him, and I didn’t see a family portrait on your walls, so it was a surprise to see a painting of just him.’

He sighed and tucked the painting under a cushion, then drew it back out again and set it on the table where it had originally been, face down. ‘Families like mine don’t do family portraits. We don’t really do any type of portraits at all. But… Do you remember when we were, what, fifteen? We saved that baron’s son from bandits.’

‘Ah yes, Baron Feronius.’

‘You still remember his name?’

‘His letters still arrive at my manor at the end of every year. His son, Eril, is not yet an adult, so he still likes to send me a message for the Midwinter Festival.’

‘And his wife is?’

‘Are you testing me now? Baron Feronius is married to Lady Rue,’ said Ari.

‘You even remember his wife?’

‘Of course. She has flaxen hair and blue eyes, a little lighter than yours. She likes collecting acorns and painting faces on them. She likes to knit tiny woolly hats for the eggs from her hens as well. Apparently it makes them look like giant acorns.’

The horrible, sinking look on the face that was too Max-like turned quizzical. How long did she have to keep going down the acorn route for him to wear a smile?

‘Why do I think sometimes you’re just making it up?’

‘If you say it with enough conviction, people believe you. Anyhow. Did the Baron gift you a portrait of your father?’

‘He gifted us five moons each as thanks, and you insisted that you didn’t need your share, so for the first time in my life, I held ten whole silver moons in my hands. I was going to gift it to my sister for her wedding, but my father… My father spent it all on this portrait.’

‘That’s… one way to spend it.’

‘I can’t bear to throw it away, yet who else would want a portrait of him…’

‘Well. If you get a Master to paint over his face with the face of a cat, I would want it.’

‘I’m… sorry, my lady?’

‘Cats really suit frilly doublets, don’t you think? I would happily hang a painting like that next to my own family portrait, as long as the cat itself is cute. The fluffier the better. Dogs should wear guild robes, like myself. Now, before we get onto what attire would suit a walrus, let me bid you goodbye.’

One of her guards helped her into the carriage, leaving the manor behind. The supposed remains of Lady Malory bumped along in a wooden box that had once housed Claribel’s sewing supplies, searching for its resting place.

Leaning her arm against the left-hand window, she watched the morning sun paint the barren, winter fields with a hazy, golden glow.

~If? He’d have to be an idiot not to be, after all the nonsense that came out of your mouth just now – walruses, really? And let me just make it clear. Hes is not an idiot. The only saving grace is… if he wants the Church to handle us, I don’t think he’d get what he wants. House Aquilon is not in the same state as House Taur. The Cardinal would not condemn me so easily at the stakes. But if he wants to take us on by himself, regardless…~

~I can’t control my wind magic with you here, remember?~

~Well. I haven’t really used my wind magic in combat before. It’s not the way that the Royal Academy teaches wind magic…~

That, and wind against fire didn’t bode well.

~Because it takes intense concentration to control magic. You have to empty your mind and picture the wind, or fire in his case, as part of your body, which… in the middle of a battle, it tends to be loud… right? And you’d need to think about not being chopped or stabbed, I’d imagine. Somehow Hes can do it. I guess he’s learned a way to ignore the noise, or maybe he goes into battle wearing linen strips stuffed into his ears?~

Spoken like a lady who’d never been chopped or stabbed, who’d never heard the ringing silence after an explosion. A normal girl. If the world allowed…

~Why would I need to see him?~

~I suppose you could, but that’s not what wind magic is for. You might or might not know this from what you learned about us in your world, but wind magic is the most revered of all in Ventinon because it’s what built our empire back in the days. Adjusting the wind in our sails was the only way we could exercise the tiniest bit of control over the terrifying, unforgiving seas.~

~Eeeek.~

~Oh. Hang on. You said ‘sail’. I thought you said ‘snail’. I hate them. They are so… so… disgusting and slimy. Ugh. I hate insects so much.~

~Arghhh… You’re making it worse! I didn’t think it was possible, but you have somehow unlocked that achievement!~

~Say what?~

~I’ll tell you what skill you’ve levelled up. The skill of taking our conversation on a strange path. What were we talking about again?~

~… Stop being so pleased about the training.~

~Stop–~

The carriage stopped. It hadn’t taken long for the sparsely populated countryside to turn into the cobbled streets that were fast-becoming familiar. Once again, the Cathedral loomed ahead, streets away, blindingly white in the sunlight. Was Eirene simply a tiny city compared to the modern sprawl of London, or had time passed too quickly while bickering with Claribel?

A crowd had formed around something, just as it had last night around the puppeteer, but instead of a show, all she could see where the four white-cloaked Holy Guards with white feathers in their helms. One on-looker gaped, and another dabbed her eyes.

One of the guards who had been keeping pace beside her carriage – Badd or Bador – pulled ahead, only to return with his lips pressed into a thin line.

‘My lady,’ he said with a gentle knock on her carriage door. ‘I’m afraid there has been… an incidence. How are you feeling today?’

‘Never mind how I’m feeling. Just tell me the bad news,’ she said.

‘If you’re sure, my lady. Cardinal Octavus has been summoned here. He requires your presence.’

The chill that crawled down her spine must be from something deep within Claribel’s understanding.

‘Understood. I will identify the body.’

On feet that hardly felt like her own, she glided towards the Holy Guards. The crowd parted before her, bowing and touching their lips with their three-fingered kiss. Yet another lady with a handkerchief sniffed and shook her head.

Cardinal Octavus bowed too. Now that she could see him up close, the smile lines around his eyes and mouth looked deeper still, but the greeting that he gave her was as solemn as could be.

‘Lady Claribel, I am glad to see you, but I am also sorry to call on your assistance. I was informed that a body had been found face-down in the streets. The kindly blacksmith who tried to identify him earlier thought he looked like Duke Taur, but he had only met His Grace once, you see… I’m afraid I, myself, was not yet a cardinal at his last visit to Eirene, and he has not made an effort to pray at the Cathedral this time, so I, too, have only glimpsed him from afar. We were about to send for someone better acquainted with him when my guards caught sight of your carriage.’

The body had been covered with a white cloak, much like how she’d covered the bodies of the guards slain at the burning.

===Quest: Second Lead. Find Duke Taur. [In Progress: Do you wish to examine the body? Y/N]===