The younger Lord Rydberg’s vacation retreat sat on a quiet street in the common quarter of the city, next to a small café large enough to seat six or so people. When I arrived, they were closing for the evening. I waved politely to the waiter who was bringing in the signboard.

“Good evening, ma’am. Can I help you?”

I nodded. “Are you familiar with the owner of this home?” I gestured at the unassuming two-story townhouse. “I’m here to return something he forgot at a meeting, and I was given this address.”

The waiter thought for a moment. “He was here the other day for dinner, but I don’t think I’ve seen him or any of his companions recently other than that. I expect he won’t visit until next week at the earliest, so you might want to deliver the item to the Rydberg estate instead. I’m sure he’ll be grateful for your assistance.”

I smiled at the waiter. “Thank you so much for the information. I’ll have to stop by his estate tomorrow. Have a wonderful evening!”

He waved goodbye as he returned to the signboard and brought it inside, locking the café door behind him after dimming the lights.

After a few moments’ pause, I walked quietly to the ornate wooden doors at the front of the young lord’s home and removed my lock picks from the pocket of my dress uniform.

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The wooden floorboards creaked as I crossed into the townhouse’s entrance hall. There were locked doors to my left and right that lead into the dining room and the living room respectively. The hall ahead split off into a narrow staircase leading up to the bedroom, then continued into the kitchen and the restroom. My destination lay behind a concealed door in the hallway. There was a hidden staircase between the dining area and kitchen that led down into a secret basement.

I placed my gloved left hand on the wall and dragged it back and forth, searching for the mechanism that would open the concealed door. Though it took me a moment, my fingers located two separate mechanisms, one at waist level and the other down lower, near my foot. The first mechanism likely would set off a silent alarm or release a weight to seal the hidden door—in short, bait. I went with the less obvious choice. The path to the staircase opened smoothly in response to the pressure from my boot, revealing a flight of narrow wooden steps lit by a row of lightstones in unassuming fixtures.

I walked on light feet to the lower level, taking care to step over two different trip wires before disarming their mechanisms. It wouldn’t do for any of the countess’s agents to get injured later.

The stale basement air stank of blood and sweat. The chamber was lined on three sides by rusty iron cages with bars that ran from floor to ceiling, while the wall behind me was occupied by a long wooden counter and wall-to-wall plywood shelves.

The shelves were filled with vials labeled carefully in the sophisticated handwriting one would expect from a noble’s upbringing. On a near-empty vial, I recognized one name as the anesthetic I had recently purchased, while the vial next to it – a weak acid, I believe – was two-thirds full.

I made my way to the cages on the opposite side and waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, covering my nose to endure the stench. Still, once my vision cleared, bile rose in my throat. After gently checking the cages’ occupants for a pulse (alas, none to be found), I removed the small notebook from the right pocket of my dress uniform and made note of everything I had discovered, alongside the testimony of Rigo from next door. The order would take care of the rest.

Yes, this will meet Solana’s expectations. Now for the finale.

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Two – no, three – men began tailing me the moment I left the townhouse. I had been sloppy. No doubt they had been watching when I entered, though it was an odd decision not to corner me inside.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Perhaps it had been a precaution. Attacking me inside would only create more witnesses.

In any case, I’d have to deal with them. I couldn’t have one of them running off and reporting to either the baron or his son. Not now… It would compromise the evidence.

I selected a conveniently dim alleyway, and as I entered, they hastened their steps to follow me.

“Oi.”

Announcing yourself first? Stupid. “Good evening, gentlemen.”

The angry one belted out a pointless question. “Who do you work for?”

“If I tell you that, I’ll have to kill you.”

The tallest one made a show of his sturdy wooden bat, balancing it with one arm before letting it drop into the palm of his hand. “You oughta worry about yourself, missy.”

I couldn’t help but grin. “Just so you know, this is self-defense.”

The thin ringleader’s face contorted into an even thinner smile. He drew a pristine blade from his side and rushed towards me.

Slow. How are they so slow?

The man with the bat swooped in alongside the thin one, likely in an attempt to close off my movement. The angry one simply stood there, watching. Hm, he might have a crossbow or something, better keep an eye on-

As I sidestepped the ringleader’s thrust, the bat swept low towards my shin – Good fundamentals, at least, that’s a decent place to aim – only to uselessly bounce off the greaves I had hidden beneath my slacks.

The tall assailant stepped back, confused, and re-evaluated his weapon. A poor craftsman blames his tools – you’re the issue here. Anyway-

The ringleader maintained excellent posture, closing in with a feint, then followed up with another thrust. Not bad. Better kill this one first.

The angry one was still just watching. He might run for help if things turn south… Better make him the second course.

As I held it firmly in my grip, Pretense’s comforting warmth radiated through my hand and all the way up my arm. I drew the sword from its sheath in a clean, elegant motion – like she taught me – and swung it directly against the ringleader’s blade in a hard parry forceful enough to drive it from his hand. The shock of the impact resonated through my whole body.

Oh, this is why Helian likes swordplay so much. This is fun! Totally different from sparring.

The bat-wielding man realized his error and charged, going for my exposed arm. You need to be faster than that. Your boss is going to die!

As the ringleader’s blade went soaring past his shoulder, he stumbled backward. Meanwhile, my blade continued on its trajectory, so naturally that it felt as though it was pulling my arm along with it. My whole body felt light.

Pretense’s tip bit into his neck, tasting blood for the first time. Is it supposed to be this easy?

Blood escaped from the ringleader’s neck, spraying through the gaps between the fingers that he pressed desperately against the cut. The bat once again made for my other arm. Just a moment, Pretense.

I released my blade. As it dropped to the ground, I used my now-empty hand to effortlessly catch the bat mid-swing. I wrenched it from the sidekick’s grip, sending him tumbling face-first.

As expected, the third one now looked more scared than angry, and turned to escape. I should have brought throwing knives or something… this will have to do.

The bat soared towards victim #2, twirling in the air before it struck him square in the back of his skull, cracking the bone with a satisfying thud. Oh, that sounded nice!

Without his weapon, the last assailant seemed to have lost his wits. He was backed up against the wall, paralyzed as he stared at the ringleader’s corpse. My hand still stung from catching the bat – no doubt it would leave a nasty bruise, but at least it was better than a broken arm – so I retrieved Pretense from the ground with my uninjured spell hand. I squatted down to look at the tall man, who now seemed so very small.

“A quick question before you go… Should I tell your mother you’re sorry for being such a bad child?”