Raulin awoke in his own bed, alone, and with a headache and a sore throat. He winced when he sat up and stumbled towards the pitcher of water, tipping it back and drinking directly from it. Tel wasn’t in the room, so he took off his mask and shaved quickly, thinking about last night.

He had spent hours talking with Anla. At the time it had seemed like a great idea; she was so receptive to what he told her and kept asking questions. Her eyes sparkled and she laughed so brightly at some of his stories, he felt like maybe he had erased what he had done to her in Mount Kalista. But now, looking in the mirror, he only felt foolish and unworthy of her attention.

At breakfast, the eggs were greasy and the sausage dry. Nothing had any flavor. He was about to leave to meet with his first contact when she came downstairs, a smile lighting her face when she saw him. “Join me,” she said, and he didn’t have the heart to tell her that breakfast was awful. He did sit with her, though.

“Watch,” she said, splitting her scone and spreading jam, then clotted cream on top. “I’ve learned.”

He nodded and mumbled something about how doing that in certain countries would get her killed.

“Well, then, I’ll have to live dangerously. Or just in Arvonne. Where would you suggest I start, if I were to visit it some day?”

He shrugged and her good mood seemed to waver. Al came downstairs a few minutes later, his hairline soaked with sweat. “Now that I’m off the boat, I’m back at it.”

Raulin nodded, then winced.

“I see you found Raulin on your walk last night,” Al said to Anla. She gave him a pointed look and he changed the subject. “How was it last night?”

“Interesting,” he said. “I have a lot of eyes on me, it seems.” He briefly recounted what happened as Al scarfed down his food. “I’m regretting going. I think I told them way too much.”

“Doesn’t sound like you,” Al said. “Or having you been lying about how you’re not conceited and you secretly do love attention from people?”

“No. It just seemed…right at the time. I don’t think it was bragging, but I definitely told them things I regret saying.”

Anla narrowed her eyes in thought. “Did you drink spirits? You didn’t smell drunk last night, but it sounds like maybe you were.”

“No, actually. They knew I couldn’t drink alcohol, so they gave me something else. I forget what it was called. ‘Rue’ something.”

“Ruly grue?” Anla asked.

“Yes.”

She and Al shared a look, then a smile. “Well, well, they got you,” Al said. He gestured for Raulin’s hand and held his wrist.

“What do you mean? It was alcohol?”

“No, but it’s almost as bad,” Anla said. “It’s a tea brewed in Sharka that wags your tongue for you. It won’t inebriate you, so you’re still sharp, but you’ll be outgoing and social. Then, the hangover.”

“It’s the reason why Anla and I partnered together,” Al said. “I don’t think I ever would have sat at her table and asked her to read my fortune if I hadn’t been drinking ruly grue.”

“You asked her to read your fortune?” he said, starting to feel his headache wane.

“It was to harass her about being a piscarin, mostly, but I was curious as to what she was doing there in the middle of lumber country reading fortunes for a pittance. Seemed odd and I was piqued.”

“Hmm,” he said, enjoying the lack of pain. Al let go of his hand and Raulin thanked him. “So I’ve been had it seems.”

“I’m sure they saw a golden opportunity and decided to go for it,” Anla said. “They didn’t lie; ruly grue isn’t a kind of spirit or wine.”

“True. I still don’t think I’ll be joining them again.”

“Why not?” she asked. “You could rectify your mistake while using them in return. Just fill their heads with nonsense and ask whatever questions you have about the city. Assuming, of course, that you’re able to hold your tongue when you need to.”

“Believe it or not, we did training involving taking certain substances. Mild poisons, alcohol, certain potions. I grew up drinking wine frequently, so at least I could identify the different stages of inebriation, at least from what I noticed of others. Those kids I was in class with had no idea. I did well with that, but mostly because I knew I was being coerced. Now that I do, I should be fine.”

“Good. Now, you needed to make contact with someone for your first contract?”

He laughed. “I should tell the club that all trirecs have a secretary now, though I’m not sure if that’s a lie or not. Yes. Would you like to come with me, should I need a tether?”

She licked her finger clean of strawberry jam. “Absolutely.”

* * *

Raulin took a leisurely stroll with Anla after breakfast. While she was in a shop asking for directions, he reminded himself of a decision he had made while on the ferry and what he was going to do about it.

He had been imprisoned for about twenty days. Jail time was never fast, not even with knife practice and reading. Raulin had reviewed his last job, as he had been taught to, and had no problems with how he had stolen the buttons from Lady Carvity’s summer house. The one before, however, he had enormous issues with.

He no longer blamed himself for falling for Lady Karninth’s game just like he wasn’t going to blame himself for being pickpocketed five times and mugged twice over the year. He fit the mark and, while embarrassing for someone of his training, it was something to move on from. What he was still blaming himself for was his treatment of Anla. It was still searing in his gut when he thought about what he had said about her. It confused him. How could he love a woman and say such terrible things about her? He had questioned for a while if maybe he did love her. Perhaps he was confusing lust with love. But, no, he knew how he felt about her. He knew the difference between the two. He loved her still.

Of course, she had told him exactly why he had reacted that way and he had taken far too long to realize she was right. He thought of her affections as some prize to win. The end of things, not the beginning. He would win her love eventually and then had no plans about what would happen after the fact. But because he wanted her, she was his and anyone else getting in his way, including her, deserved his wrath when he didn’t get what he wanted.

It had been a smart move to court her. His possessiveness had been chained and he was hers, not the other way around. It had worked, until he had heard the guards’ idle gossip about her affair with Lord Cavrige. It had hurt. He hadn’t made any progress; he had still been consumed by jealousy and rage and despair. He’d had to talk himself down before he pounded his fists into the wall. Him of all people.

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

She wasn’t Raulin’s. Anla was her own, or Lord Cavrige’s, or whomever she wanted. He was not allowed to tell her what a huge mistake she had made. Oh, it still ate at him. He couldn’t stop himself from thinking of the two of them together, her satisfied smile after Cavrige bedded her, her snuggled into his arms while he drew circles on her back. Seething anger, twisted stomach, feelings of unworthiness.

But, he calmed down and he realized that after the gut punch left from unfulfilled desire, what he really worried about was her in love with Cavrige. His mindset shifted. He couldn’t make her love him, but he could make her as happy as possible. He would pay more attention to what she smiled at and try to replicate it as much as possible. And, yes, he had picked up on the fact that she loved him talking about his past and that he hadn’t done a great job that morning. He would fix that.

Anla walked out of the shop. “Not terribly far,” she said. “Three blocks down, and two over.”

“Good,” he said, walking in that direction. “I remember you asked me about my mother last night before I grew to tired to continue our conversation.”

“Yes, I did! Tell me about her.”

“Most of my parents’ friends and associates thought I favored her in looks. Most of my features were the same as hers, though I look rather different now. She was petite, for example, and I sprouted tall like my father.

“I was her favorite. She also loved my little sister, Petulet, but I could tell she loved me best. My father hated it; he thought she was turning me into a sissy, but I’m pretty sure I proved him wrong there.”

“Why? What what did you two do?”

“Oh, I would lay my head in her lap while she hummed and brushed her hair. She taught me how to play the spinet and recite romantic poetry, which worked doubly as wastes of time to my father. She would always hold me when I cried and never told me to dam it up, to be an adult. She listened and she taught me to listen as well.”

“She sounds like a wonderful woman.”

“She was. She wasn’t born for the life she lived.”

“How so?”

“She was quiet and didn’t prefer the company of other people. Give her a book to read or let her paint a picture and she was late afternoon sunshine after a storm. When she was at a dinner or a ball, she would hardly speak, having to rely on wine to loosen her tongue enough for small talk.”

“You went to a lot of balls when you were younger?”

“Here and there. I was a child, after all, and nobody wants little thigh crashers mucking about their good conversation. Often I’d be in an adjacent room or wing with other children and someone would look after us. My brother was well-behaved from when he was seven, so he was often paraded around and did well. I probably would have been with the kids until I was twenty-three.”

“What was your brother…” she began, but her eyes had wandered to a store front. Inside, on several mannequins, were intricately crafted cowls in lace, fur, and satin. There were other accessories in the shop, gloves and scarves and the like, but she didn’t want those. She tore her eyes away and tried again, “What was your brother like?”

Raulin put his hand gently on Anla’s upper back and guided her to the shop. The shopkeeper was thrilled to have a trirec in his business, though he seemed a little perplexed by Anla’s presence. Raulin let her look at the items available, some so dainty they appeared impractical, but he kept seeing her eyes flicker to the cowls. Eventually, she walked over to the rack and let her fingertips stray across the material.

“It’s the latest fashion,” the shopkeeper whispered in his ear. “Our ladies need something to protect their hair in dewy mornings and muggy afternoons. Those scarves gently cover a woman’s curls so that they don’t wilt. I see that your lady doesn’t wear her hair in curls, but they help still. And they look quite fetching.”

He said nothing, only watched her pick up a gold cowl with pearls strung inside. It hung long down the back and was knit into a pattern of starfish and nautical shells. She put it on, gently, and turned to look at him with a bright smile. “How much are we talking about?” he said to the shopkeeper immediately, not taking his eyes off her.

She put it back and looked at other things while he finalized the sale and folded the delicate accessory in his knapsack. “Did you find anything you liked?” he asked as they left.

“A few things, but nothing I needed.”

“What about wanted? You have money and plenty of it. You can splurge on things and not worry about how much they cost.”

She took a few moments to gather her thoughts. “I do have money. But, unlike you, I won’t be able to make any more once our year is done. If I worked on my baerd skills I could make a living, but I would always be watching my back, worried that bounty hunters would take me. And I couldn’t invest in an education or business for the same reason. So, I’m going to assume that whatever money I have is static. My ‘splurge’ will be covering expenses to find my brother and raise him. There are plenty of beautiful things in the world that I will never have. I don’t have the option to want.”

“That’s a good point. What about if you hire me as a guard after the year is done? I come cheaply.”

Her eyebrows furrowed in thought, but she said nothing.

Feeling a bit embarrassed by his forewardness, he said, “You could also ask me to buy you things. It’s part of courtship.”

“You’ve already spent enough on me. I appreciate it, but you don’t need to do that. You’ve never had to.”

“Is that rejecting the courtship then?”

“No. I’m just saying I’ve enjoyed your stories and anecdotes more than the flowers and chocolates.”

“Poor gifts, then? Maybe I should try harder?” He pulled his knapsack off as they continued to walk and pulled out the cowl, letting it spill over his arm.

He studied her profile and saw the corner of her mouth waver as she tried to suppress a smile. “You didn’t have to try that hard.”

“Consider it making up for time on the ship. Now, this is the place, yes?” He gestured to a brick building with ivy growing along every inch that wasn’t windowed. “Stay here. I’ll be quick about it.”

A glance back showed that she took a seat on the bench in front of the building, a tree with new leaves and her cowl shading her from the sun.

Inside he presented himself to a secretary, or would have had the man not stood and left as soon as he saw Raulin. A few minutes later a middle-aged man, balding, paunchy, but with a good-natured expression etched on his features, arrived with the young man. “Ammen Kilden. Ah, good to see you, Mr…?” he asked, his hand extended.

“Kemor, Raulin Kemor,” returning the shake. “Is there some place you’d like to speak more privately?”

“No, no, here will do fine.” He sat in one of the chairs of the seating area and gestured for Raulin to do the same. It wasn’t the first time someone had been overt about the usually covert, but typically there were added layers of politics to the matter.

The man seemed calm and not at all worried about the situation. In fact, he gazed around, looking at the sickly plant in the corner, the crack in the window pane next to them, and the quill and ink on the secretary’s desk as if he’d never seen them before. He was in no rush to speak, so Raulin prompted him. “I’ve taken on your contract to steal an item…”

“Oh, no!” he said, laughing. “It’s not to steal it. We need you to retrieve something.”

“I apologize. I am to retrieve an item for you, but I need the information. There was none given, other than to contact you once I reached Acripla.”

“Yes. It takes some explanation. I need you to retrieve an item from my home.”

“Sir?”

“My family’s home, I should specify.”

“You need me to steal, retrieve, something from one of your relatives?”

“No, it’s technically mine.”

Raulin tapped a finger on his knuckle.

“My father lived alone on the family’s estate up until his death three years ago. He was advanced in his years, but we didn’t know he’d fallen ill. Tragic, really; we would have hired someone…Anyway, he became a little daft in his later years and took to hiding things. We’ve already had a few people look into it, but they didn’t find anything.”

“You’ve exhausted the list of treasure hunters, private investigators, and detectives?”

“Not exactly. The manor has something of a reputation now, so I can’t get anyone to even step in through the gate.”

“What reputation?”

“It’s haunted.”

“Haunted?”

“All right, it’s unsafe,” he said, sighing. “My family has been land rich and bank poor for my entire life, so we haven’t had the fund to keep up the house. It only got worse in the last decade, so a few of the people who tried got injured a little.”

“Define ‘a little’.”

“Only the one died, I promise, and accidents can happen anywhere!”

“I’ve already taken your contract. If it’s not complete, it’s because I’m dead. And then you’ll have to look elsewhere for your possession issues.”

“Why?” Kildet asked, his bushy eyebrows furrowing. “What does that mean?”

“You’d enter our version of double jeopardy; if a trirec dies while serving a contract, the contract is considered complete and cannot be resubmitted. I should point out that, since you chose to meet me instead of giving all the instructions in your contract, you can cancel now that we’ve met. This will be your last opportunity to do so.”

“Do you feel confident that you can do it?”

“I think it will all depend on how derelict your family’s manor is.”

Kilden looked Raulin up and down, scratched his chin, and said, “You look like a strapping young man. I think you’ll do.”

“Thank you. Now, what would you like me to retrieve?”