Keeping low to the ground, Adrian snuck past the night guards. He was heading for Dixie’s bedroom window, which was conveniently left open despite the chilly breeze of the night. Like an ape, he climbed the drainage pipe to the third floor, before acrobatically leaping onto the windowsill.
He shut the window behind him as he went into the lavish bedroom. A soft carpet muffled his footsteps as he padded to the bed. Dixie was still down below, having dinner with her sisters and their mother.
The Royal Treasurer acting like a thief in the night. If he were caught, the fallout would be of a magnitude that was difficult to comprehend. But still, every other night he came to see Dixie. The illicit nature of their affair was intoxicating, almost as much as the risk they bore when they met for their trysts.
They had both tried to break it off repeatedly on different occasions, but like a boomerang, they kept on coming back to each other. He had tried seeing other women in court – that had ended when Dixie turned redder than a tomato and forced him back to her life. Adrian could hardly blame her, he had almost choked with jealousy when he saw suitor lining up for Dixie. Luckily enough, the girl was the second-born of Grand Duke Blackstone who doted on her, so she was free from the pressures of arranged marriages. That said, the Grand Duke would wring Adrian’s neck if he ever found out.
And what of his father? News of the affair would be the final nudge that pushed him from this mortal plane. That was no understatement. Grand Duke Whitestone had a frail heart; negatice emotions of such scale would cause it to stop. As a result, the Grand Duke spent his days in the Whitestone stronghold Euwaine in the Northeast. Adrian’s mother was there with him too. She would be more understanding, given that she was a foreigner, but Adrian’s younger brother would ostracize him. The townspeople of Euwaine would spit at the mention of his name, and his name would be turned into an insult. Scary.
The door creaked and Adrian jumped under the bed. A person entered the room and locked the door behind them. All Adrian could see was their ankles. They crossed the room and shut the window.
Adrian crawled out from under the bed to envelop his lover in his arms. All the worries and uncertainties he had had moments earlier evaporated with the heat of the moment. Dixie’s was the only occupied room on the third floor. Despite this, they tried to be as quiet as they could.
After the deed was done they lay next to each other looking at the ceiling, I wish time would stop at this moment. Adrian rolled over to look at the woman he loved. Her face was flushed and moist with sweat.
“Dixie…”
“Hm?”
“We should stay here forever.”
“I’m sure my Lord Treasurer has other duties to attend to other than poor me.”
Adrian groaned. “Don’t call me that – you know it makes me feel old.”
“It’s better than sitting about doing nothing all day. I swear one of these days I’ll die of boredom.”
“Let’s run away then, go somewhere far from here.”
“Hahahaha, I wish.”
“I’m being serious.”
“Oh…”
“I have enough to pay for a voyage east – I have relatives there.”
She placed her hand on his cheek. “You know we can’t do that.”
He knew, but it was a bitter fruit to swallow. “We’re not children anymore – I’m sure we can make it work.”
“You’re right, we’re not children. That means we have to think of people other than ourselves. Your father would be out for blood.”
“Maybe that will get him out of bed. If you think about it, I’d be doing him a favour; forcing him to go outside.”
“What does he look like anyway?”
“Oh, I forget you’ve never met. He’s uh… pretty big.”
“You mean fat.”
“How crude – didn’t your mother ever teach you politeness?”
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
“Ugh, I don’t even want to speak about that witch.”
“Speaking of witches – did you hear about the witches in the Merchant’s Quarter?”
“Real apostate witches? Here in the city?”
“I’m not supposed to tell you any of this, by the way.”
“Oh come onnnn – you know you can trust me. Why would you even bring it up if you didn’t want to tell me?”
“My mouth seems to be a bit looser when I’m around you. I should avoid you, lest I spill His Majesty’s secrets.”
“Like he ever tells you anything. People talk behind your back, you know.”
“What do they say?”
“That you skim money off the top. My father has some men investigating you.”
“They won’t find anything – because if there’s one thing I pride myself in, it’s inte-”
“Integrity, I know. I used to think that was something you said to impress others as Treasurer – little did I know you seriously believe that.”
Adrian was mildly offended. “What’s so odd about a little conviction?”
“Nothing – it doesn’t matter anyway. You should know that those men are not above fabricating evidence. You never publicly buy anything for yourself except clothes – that can be interpreted as a sign that you are up to something suspicious. Your peers are out there spending away as much as they can.”
“My family handles all my essential expenses, and you told me not to buy you any gifts."
“You’re an odd one, Adrian Whitestone.”
“What did I do?”
“You’re the scion of the wealthiest family in the Kingdom and you hold one of the most influential positions in court, and yet, you are quiet and unambitious, spending your time with me – a useless spare daughter of your family’s enemies.”
“I don’t think you’re useless, Dixie.”
“It doesn’t matter – go buy courtesans like other men your age, instead of hoarding all your money.”
“I don’t have need for them when I have you.”
“Maybe we could share – I know a Pink House where their courtesans value discretion. I could sneak to your place and they wouldn’t tell anybody about us. Come onnn it’ll be fun.”
Before he could respond something caught his attention. “Wait, do you hear that?”
“Sounds like screaming…”
Adrian walked over to the window and looked outside. Something was clearly going on a few blocks down the street, in the Redstone manor by the wall.
“What’s going on?” Dixie asked.
“I don’t know…”
“Come back to bed, it’s none of our concern. Let the City Guard earn their keep.”
“They might need help. I can cast some healing magic.”
“You’re not supposed to even be here. Come on, I’m getting cold…”
The reports came in the next day of a massacre. The first responders on the scene had suffered mental breaks and the ones who came after swore to never look partake of meat ever again.
The King’s Council was, understandably, upset.
“What did this and why did this happen?” A throbbing vein was prominently visible on the Chancellor’s temple.
“The guards said they saw a black shadow-bat. That might be another Tulpa,” Lady Clearwater said.
“Dammit, none of this would have happened if you and the Marshal had done your jobs.”
“We’re not even sure these are the same witches.”
“Oh, because the Capital is teeming with apostates, no?”
“Well-”
“Whitemoss! Any idea why this particular household was targeted?”
“I believe the owner was heavily involved with Clan Redclaw, maybe even one of their bosses,” the Spymaster said.
He’s holding back something. Adrian had learned to assume Spymaster Evans Whitemoss knew everything. He would never give such a vague response. Spymaster Evans had been the only one to uncover Adrian’s little nightly adventures. In exchange for his silence, Adrian let the Spymaster take out money from the coffers. It gnawed at Adrian, but Dixie was worth more to him than integrity.
“Can none of you do their jobs right?” The Chancellor fumed. “Ugh – no use keeping a lid on it. I’ll placate the Court. Whitemoss, Bluewater and Clearwater, I want you to work together to find whoever did this. Whitestone, give them whatever they need.”
With that, Chancellor Redfield stormed out of the room.
“Well, they certainly made their move,” Marshal Bluewater said glumly.
“They certainly did...” Lady Clearwater said. She made a face like she was in pain.
“Are you alright?” Adrian asked.
“I feel like there is something important I’m forgetting, and every time I try to remember I get a splitting headache.”
“We can’t find those apostates without you,’ the Marshal said. “Maybe try not to think too hard about whatever that is.”
“I’ll try.”
The Marshal turned to the Spymaster. “Do you know why those witches did this?”
“I don’t know. It makes no sense – not unless they’re working with that giant, Knifey. But why would they be working with him? What did he offer them?”
“Questions, questions but no answers.”
“Indeed. With that man Vice dead, and Kissyface out of the city, Knifey will be in charge of Redclaw. Under normal circumstances, there’d have been a civil war, so maybe this is a tactic to scare Vice’s men into submission.”
“So he paid the witches to do his dirty work. Does that also mean he sent the Tulpa to kill us that day? Ballsy move…”
“Knifey himself doesn’t have money, that was all Kissyface. Maybe that was why Kissyface ran in the first place – Knifey must’ve tried to seize the cash flow. But that’s so unlike Knifey, to pick a fight with one of his fellow bosses. And I didn’t hear anything about in-fighting.”
“Maybe the answer lies with Kissyface.”
“Maybe. But he crossed the sea to the Empire of Vita.”
“That leaves Knifey.” The Marshal cupped his head in his hands. “I’m not looking forward to this.”
“I can ask about his exact location, but you best hurry. Those witches must’ve fled the city by now. That gives me an idea, we can check the records at the gate for two young women probably alone – and we have a good idea what they look like.”
“On it.”
“I’d best retire,” Lady Clearwater said. “I think I’m ill.”
“Good luck.”
Soon after, the councillors dispersed. About an hour after noon, Marshal Bluewater said he had found records of two women who fit the description heading southwest to the coastal city of Hosterwaine. He was asking for equipment for about fifty men to chase these women before they got too far. That was their only lead, seeing as Knifey had gone underground, beyond even the reach of the omniscient Spymaster.