Once everyone’s settled and being attended to by Geneva, I hang back and examine my options. So many fun directions this can go. “What do you think?” I whisper as I lean toward Alana, who is beside me.

“Brothers first,” she whispers back. “They’re distracted by the food now but they’re still shaking in their boots. Then I’d say Arthur, but I bet you have different ideas.”

“Mm. Coming?” I hold out an arm. Alana sighs but she places her hand on my arm and allows me to ‘escort’ her across the room. The younger brother, Michael, is seated in the corner seat of one of the couches, nibbling on a cookie, while his older brother leans on the couch’s arm, sipping from a small glass.

Oh, that’s the One Time, our working title for the perception altering shroom juice. His head is bowed, gaze fixed to the floor. I bet the polished wood is the most interesting thing in the world right now.

“Michael,” I call as I take a seat beside him, guiding Alana to sit next to me.

He had already stopped nibbling on his snack, but he jumps once I sit beside him. “Lou, ah, Lady Tome. I…” He trails off, swallowing heavily before turning his away. I let him stew in whatever puddle of negative emotions he’s stewing in, enjoying his floundering. I don’t care for men at all, but my eyes aren’t as biased and I have to admit, the blushing boy is kind of cute. Going to be popular when he grows up, I bet. He’s nowhere close to the saintly Lancecain, or me if I want to indulge in vanity for a moment, but I don’t see women laughing off his advances.

Unfortunately, I wouldn’t say the same for Gabriel. They have the same dark hair and eyes, but that is where the similarities end. He isn’t particularly bad looking but his features don’t complement each other. His stoic demeanor doesn’t help. He is a block of stone that only comes alive when his brother is concerned.

“No hard feelings over the qualifiers,” Gabriel said, getting right to the heart of Michael’s tension. “We’d made plans to team up earlier in the year. Wouldn’t have been right to abandon him just because a better option appeared.”

Oh, this one has talent. Apologized and complimented both of us in one succinct sentence. He has a tongue suited for court. That’ll be needed if his brother wants to be anything more than a noble’s pet caster. “No hard feelings, as you say. It was probably for the best. My team ran into quite a lot of trouble.”

Michael winces, likely recalling that someone with royal blood was murdered and my team was caught in the middle. The poor boy has worse anxiety when it comes to people in positions of authority than the old me. He likely would have fainted over Seabass’ corpse. “It’s amazing that you beat Dunwayne’s record,” Michael offers hesitantly.

“I got lucky. Found a den.”

“How did you flush them out? We couldn’t manage it.”

I climbed in after them. “Trade secrets. So? What’s next for you two? The path of an acolyte is long and wide.”

“Michael will focus on developing his water affinity and select a trade. I will learn alchemy and join a guild to help support his education.”

“Oh? Going to be a hunter?”

“No. I want to work behind a desk. There is no need to risk my life hunting monsters.”

I notice Michael nodding from the corner of my eye. Neither are men that hunger for blood or glory, it seems. Refreshing…if boring. It sounds to me that both brothers are looking for a simple life where they earn enough crowns feed their families and nothing more. Where is the passion? The lust for life? Or any lust at all?

I understand. Taking chances on what you want is a lot more daunting when you’re not immortal and strong enough to bend steel but, having lived both lives, I know how bleak living only to preserve your life can be.

“Then you’ll have to study hard, Michael. And stay away from the drinks table.” One cup will turn the boy inside out.

“Ah, of course.”

I stand up but Alana stays behind, engaging them in a conversation. I briefly consider going to Arthur and his friends, but they seem wholly preoccupied with shoveling food into their mouths as fast as possible. That leaves Alyssa’s group, crowded around the drinks table and chatting amicably. Cynthia notices me immediately, turning away from the young man she walked in with to flash a full smile at me.

“The lady of the house herself,” the alchemist greets, drawing attention to my approach.

“Lady Oriole. Don’t let my wife hear you.”

“Oh? Would she take offense?”

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

“Not at all. She’d think it amusing and would tease me relentlessly.”

Once I’m close enough, the older woman brazenly links our arms together. Her date doesn’t look at all happy about the gesture. “Do you have any plans to clear up your legal troubles? I was hoping you’d be joining my class this year.”

I chuckle. “Even if I weren’t a wanted woman, I don’t think I’d have the time. I’m a summoner by trade. Proper dedication to the art is time consuming. What free time I do have is taken up by my family.”

“And what a large family you have,” she purrs. “Growing larger by the day.” She moves even closer, squeezing my arm against her chest. My eyes reflexively look down, noticing just how little the laces of the dress hide. “You know, my company also sells nutrition potions, as beauty starts from within. Can I interest you in some? It must be tiring to…take care of so many women.”

I smile. “Don’t worry about me. I’m more than up to the task.”

“Oh, yes. Kierra brags about this body of yours sometimes. Says it’s a work of art.”

“If you want, I can give you a better look.”

“Art should be admired.”

“Oh, saints’ blessed asses,” Alyssa groans. “Will you stop eye-fucking this brat? Your date is right there. I feel bad for the fucker.”

I look at said date. Ah, he doesn’t look happy at all. Poor bastard. I barely hold back a wince as Cynthia looks over briefly before turning away. He doesn’t take that lying down.

He downs his glass and squares his shoulders. “No need to worry for me, Miss Filagree. Thia is fond of her distractions. I’m also interested in Lady Tome. Few are brave enough to throw a party on the eve of being arrested and likely executed.”

Executed, huh? If only this joker knew how funny he is. “Who are you?”

He flinches. “Farran. No last name. My family hasn’t done anything notable enough to receive the recognition. I hope to change that.”

“Well, Farran. I don’t consider myself a brave person. I’m throwing a party because I’m not going to be executed. And that’s the last I’m going to say on the subject. Topics of law, arrest, and execution are banned. Today is a happy night. A night full of laughter and fun…” I turn back to Cynthia, channeling Kierra’s smirk. “And maybe something else.”

The alchemist smiles back but the moment is interrupted by Farran speaking with audible venom. “Yes, it wouldn’t do to pour a dose of reality into these drinks. I’m sure ignoring your problems will make everything better.”

A soft coo makes him look down to find Bell waiting beside him, holding up an empty platter. Farran puts his empty glass atop it and the imp scampers off, leaving him free to take another from the table. “I suppose you expect your wife to solve your problems again. How much of her kingdom is she willing to donate for your freedom? Oh, wait. She isn’t a princess, is she? Suppose there’s nothing to save you then.”

You’re going to need saving in a moment. I wiggle my arm, cluing Cynthia in that I want to be released. She does so with reluctance and a pronounced pout, only to gasp in happy surprise as I put an arm around her waist and pull her against me. “Why did you invite this bore?” I ask, ignoring Farran. “Can’t read a room for his life.” Seriously, he’s endangering his life.

“He was there when I received the invitation. I didn’t think he would leave his manners at my home.”

“Your home? Lady Oriole, you wouldn’t be seducing your students?”

She titters. “As exciting as that sounds, no. He’s an ex-student, so no hint of impropriety here.”

“Shame. I might have rethought taking your classes.”

“If you’re done emasculating Cynthia’s date,” Alyssa grouses. “Come over here, Lou. I want to introduce you to someone.”

I smile at the quietly seething Farran before obliging Alyssa’s request, pulling her along as I move to stand before the redhead. She motions to the older man beside her. Definitely the scruffiest looking person in attendance. The brothers may not have much but they put what effort they could into their appearance. This guy looks like he dragged himself here after a long day without bothering to even wipe his face.

At least he’s wearing a small smile as he downs the shroom juice, only turning to us after Alyssa punches him in the shoulder.

“This is Jack. Works in One For All.”

“Hey.”

“Hi?”

“He has a voice with the hunters. You show him why fighting you is a shit idea and most people won’t want to fight you.”

Jack grunts. “Big promises. All I can do is tell people what I know. Whether they listen is up to them.”

Well. “We can arrange something. But for starters, you know how strong these drinks are?”

The hunter’s smile widens. “Strong enough to make me go bald.”

That’s a new one. I kind of want Howie to make a drink with that side effect. “After our last, ah, kerfluffel with the guilds—" I ignore Alyssa’s amused snort. “I imagine you all are not looking forward to a direct confrontation. Indirect methods won’t work either. Especially poison. I could drink a whole house of this stuff and wouldn’t even feel it in the morning.”

“Yeah? Prove it.”

“I would but leaving my guests dry wouldn’t be good as tonight’s hostess.”

“A convenient excuse,” Farran said, showing he’s not smart enough to leave well enough alone. “I guess the infamous initiate doesn’t live up to her reputation.”

“I’m more than capable of living up to my reputation. But drinking isn’t what I’m known for.” The hand around Cynthia’s waist moves, my thumb rubbing her abdomen. The alchemist is unperturbed, grabbing a glass of wine from the table. Can’t say the same for her date. He looks ready to explode.

Poor bastard. I’ve been there. Kierra never flirted with anyone as brazenly as Cynthia is flirting with me, but I know what it feels like to burn inside as others do their best to steal the attentions of the woman you love. Or, in Farran’s case, are interested in. At least with Kierra, I knew she was doing it with purpose and that she wouldn’t actually sleep with her admirers. This schmuck has no such guarantee.

“I wouldn’t mind giving a demonstration of that but there are young eyes present. I do have some decorum.”

“Thank the saints for that,” Alyssa mutters.

“The night is still young.” Cynthia sips her drink with raised brows, eyes practically twinkling. This woman. I’m not sure how much of her words are banter and how much is a genuine invitation. And if it is real, is it an invitation I can accept? Assuming my wives, current and future, has nothing to say about it.

A glance over my shoulder reveals that Alana is still talking with the brothers. As if she can feel my gaze, she turns. Our eyes meet. Then her gaze moves to Cynthia. I watch her face intently, awaiting her judgment. After a long moment, she turns away. Not a yes…but also not a no.

It’s going to be an interesting night.