"Ah, so this is the provocation," I thought. Knuckles had said they found no close relatives. Still, New Freeland wasn’t exactly close by. And Wimbush, that cockroach, might even turn out to be legitimate.

“This is…” Finella began.

“A very sad story,” I interrupted before she could finish. The falsehood in my voice was obvious to everyone, but I kept a stone-faced expression and turned my gaze to the stage. Harry was just stepping down, apparently making his way toward us, though he was being intercepted by well-wishers as he went. Good. That gave me a chance to end this farce before he reached us. “Please, Mr. Wimbush, go on.”

“As the boys’ only living relative, I must take guardianship of them!” Wimbush declared with such fervor that his cockroach-like mustache bristled as though electrified.

“A noble decision,” the judge affirmed.

“But there’s a problem. The children were placed in an orphanage, but they escaped, and now the orphanage management refuses to release their paperwork,” Wimbush continued.

“I can understand their hesitation,” the judge replied. “The parents of orphans often leave behind property, which is used to support them. The orphanage may fear that if they release the paperwork, you’ll simply disappear with the assets.”

“I’m afraid, Lord Chapman,” Vincent Fairburn interjected smoothly, “that this situation is a bit different. I trust that Mr. Wimbush’s Order of Merit is a sufficient guarantee of his trustworthiness. We’ve already hired a detective to locate the children. The first thing he uncovered was that the children’s property wasn’t profitable. The real estate was sold at auction for the lowest price, and the children fled the orphanage shortly after being placed there – about five years ago. Yet, according to the records, their escape is noted as happening only recently.”

“I see,” said the judge. “And funds continued to be drawn during that time, likely to the full satisfaction of the orphanage management. I can certainly turn that nest upside down and see the guilty punished, but without the children, you won’t get the papers.”

"Oh, no need to worry, Your Honor!" Wimbush exclaimed. "I’m more than willing to sign a waiver right now, transferring any property to a suitable charitable organization or institution—"

"That’s not how guardianship works," the judge interrupted. "You don’t have the authority to dispose of their assets at will—if there’s anything left to begin with."

Wimbush and Fairburn exchanged glances.

"If there is anything," Vincent said smoothly, as if it were a mere suggestion, "you could always pay an equivalent sum out of your own pocket."

"Of course!" Wimbush rushed to agree. "For me, it’s the children that matter most. But even when I find them, I fear the orphanage management will continue to obstruct me, and my time in the metropole is limited. The locals back home – they’re not exactly reliable workers. Without a firm hand, they’ll grow lazy, and I could lose the business I’ve spent years building!”

“Well,” the judge said after a pause, “I’ll help you. Find the children, and the matter will be resolved promptly. But you will have to sign that waiver – I won’t let you back out of it now. I will have my secretary compile a selection of charitable organizations for Mr. Wimbush to consider.”

“Thank you, Lord!” Wimbush said, with an almost exaggerated bow of gratitude.

“Thank you,” added Fairburn, meeting my eyes directly. “I believe this will be resolved in a matter of days.”

By the time Harry fought his way through the crowd of well-wishers eager to curry favor with Farnell’s newest power player, Wimbush and Fairburn were already retreating. But Harry reached them before they could fully slip away.

“What sort of scheme have you gotten tangled up in this time?” wizard asked.

“Sir Harry,” Vincent greeted him in a carefully restrained tone. Harry responded with an expressive look but took several moments before forcing himself to reply.

“Lord Fairburn.”

“You’re strong,” said the black giant suddenly. It was the first thing he had said throughout the entire conversation.

“And you’re the guy they hired to kill me, huh?” Harry said, his tone light but sharp. “Think you can handle it?”

“I always win,” the giant replied with quiet confidence.

“Lord Fairburn!” Chief Justice suddenly demanded, his voice filled with outrage. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Your Honor,” August intervened quickly, “I believe you’ve misunderstood. Bolaji was hired as security! He simply believes he can defeat any opponent. I’m sure it’s no secret that our relationship with Sir Harry has been… strained. He’s notorious for his unruly and unpredictable temperament. And as for his student, Lord Loxlin – well, didn’t he cause a scene at the House’s main trade office?”

"I object, Your Honor!" I said. If August had started digging his own grave, it was only fair to give him a hand with the shovel. "Rumor had it that Sir August hired an assassin to eliminate me."

“Oh, I heard that at the club too!” Simon chimed in, perfectly timed.

"So I went to the Fairburn House to get some answers in a conversation with its head," I continued, "but instead, the guards took liberties, speaking indecently about my clan and family before resorting to force. I had no choice but to defend myself. There were plenty of witnesses, by the way. I even saw one lady in the hall tonight. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind sharing her recollection of events as a neutral observer."

“That won’t be necessary,” Vincent said, cutting me off. “I apologize for that incident. We both let our tempers get the better of us.”

“Did we?” I asked, mockingly incredulous. “Uncouth country bumpkin. Bloody upstart brat. You didn’t mince words, Lord Fairburn, while I refrained from such liberties.”

“It’s bad enough that you’ve accused my family of hiring an assassin!” Vincent snapped, barely holding back his anger.

“Indeed,” I said, deliberately shifting my gaze to the black giant.

“You’re bold!” The giant laughed, a deep, rumbling sound. “But too weak to back it up. Shut your mouth.”

The crystal on his chest flared like glowing embers. My head spun, but I forced myself not to react. My jaw locked, my lips stuck together, and I realized I wouldn’t be able to speak anytime soon. So I gave him a sweet smile and mimed locking my lips and tossing away the key. Let it look like I’d said all I needed to.

“Really?” Harry said, noticing my struggle. “And who are you to silence my student?”

“Bolaji Lengai, of the Nakuru tribe. Great warrior of the Rain God, slayer of shamans and masters of the elements,” he said, matter-of-factly, as though stating a job title. No pomp. No flourish.

Ah, I thought. Masters of the elements must mean sorcerers, and shamans likely refers to wizards, probably with some ethnic nuance. Either way, it was clear: the brute had just openly admitted to killing people like Harry.

“Not much of an accomplishment,” Harry said with a smirk. “I’ve taken out a fair few warlocks myself.”

“Sir Harry!” the judge exclaimed in outrage. “That’s a bold statement to make in the presence of a servant of the law.”

“On the battlefield, Your Honor. On the battlefield. The goddess of justice did not object.”

“Will you wager your life against mine?” Bolaji offered, his tone casual but charged.

“I’ll have you both locked up,” Chapman said with finality. Bolaji looked like he wanted to object but wisely held his tongue. August stepped in again, defusing the tension.

“Apologies, Lord Chapman,” August said smoothly. “Bolaji didn’t mean to suggest a fight to the death.”

“Oh!” Simon exclaimed. “A sporting duel, then? In that case, I call first match! How about the dueling hall at the shooting club – ow!” His grandfather grabbed him by the ear again. “Grandpa – ow, ow!”

“We’ll be taking our leave,” Vincent Fairburn said hastily. “Bolaji, come.”

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No matter how hard I tried to be a good person, I couldn’t help but feel a certain satisfaction watching people like the Fairburns squirm. But this was only the beginning – an unpleasant little scene for the public. The real fight would come later, and I had no idea when. What would Fairburn do with his newfound knowledge? Cap was alone at home. Knuckles was alone in the parking lot. And there was no one nearby to protect them.

“We,” the judge said pointedly, “will also take our leave.” He gestured to his father, and the family dragged Simon off, his yelps and protests trailing behind them as they disappeared behind a column.

I turned sharply to Harry and gestured toward my sealed mouth.

“The amulet didn’t work?”

I shook my head and made a motion urging him to hurry. Harry glanced around.

“A book will draw too much attention. Bear with me.”

He stepped closer and began tracing faint ethereal symbols with his finger around the amulet hidden beneath my clothes. That’s when James Flower decided to show up in search of his missing sister.

“Sir Harry,” James greeted with a tone of utmost respect before abruptly changing it to one of anger. “Did I not make myself perfectly clear that I don’t want to see the two of you together?”

“I’m eighteen, in case you forgot,” Spark snapped back.

“You were kidnapped recently, in case you forgot. All thanks to your cavalier. Or am I wrong, Lord Loxlin?”

I rolled my eyes. Could James be any more poorly timed?

“Ignoring me isn’t the best option,” he hissed.

“Take a closer look,” Harry said, still tracing the third ring of symbols across my chest. “He can’t.”

Though James was blind in both eyes, he could see the world through his third eye – including the magic that had sealed my lips.

“Hm... an excellent spell! Who cast it?”

“Fairburn’s brute,” Spark said.

This time, James refrained from commentary, apparently deciding to wait until I could speak again. Harry finished drawing the third circle. I didn’t even feel the activation – I doubt anyone in the hall noticed it either. My lips simply unstuck.

“We’ve got a problem!” I declared. “Sir James, apologies, but this isn’t about you. We need to head home. Now!”

“De Camp wanted us to stay until the end.”

“Fortunately, he’s occupied.”

As we spoke, the mayor was presenting another certificate from the city council to yet another lucky recipient, showing no signs of slowing down.

“Harry, did you see that cockroach with the medal pinned to his chest?”

The wizard nodded, so I continued. “A distant relative of the Sparrows. Might even be real.”

“Fairburn’s after the boys? That sewer rat!” Harry clenched his fists, and his knuckles cracked like dry twigs. “I’ll wring his scrawny neck!”

“But not now,” I said. “The relative might be fake, and this could be the provocation De Camp mentioned.”

“Could be,” Harry agreed. “It’s his style.”

“Then you can’t leave,” Finella said.

“I see no reason to stay,” I countered.

“Sir Harry fleeing after speaking with Fairburn?” Spark teased.

“That’s a stretch,” I said.

“But it has a certain logic to it,” Harry admitted.

“Care to share this interesting story with me?” James cut in. “I’d like to know what mess you’ve dragged my sister into this time.”

I rolled my eyes again.

“James, you’re just…” Spark stomped her foot in frustration.

“Yes, James,” Harry said, his tone sharp. “What does Duncan have to do with this?”

“He’s like a magnet for trouble.”

“I recall another trouble magnet,” Harry said sternly. “Someone all his friends abandoned when he was on the brink of death!”

“That’s not true,” James objected. “The Sheridans stood by me... and so did you. Tell me what’s happening – I’ll help.”

“You want to help?” I asked. “Then take Knuckles and head to The Anvil. As long as you’re with them, no one will dare touch the boys. We’ll stay here and circle the room. I think Lionel won’t refuse us a bit of advice. Finella heard everything – she’ll fill you in.”

“What do you think, Sir Harry?” James asked, clearly valuing Harry’s opinion far more than mine.

“Let’s do it,” Harry agreed.

“Call Ellie,” I told Finella. “Tell her to stay quiet about the boys if anyone asks.”

Left alone with Harry, we each grabbed a glass of champagne – or, rather, the sparkling apple cider masquerading as champagne – and discussed the situation. Most of the guests were gathered near the stage, leaving our corner by the column relatively private. Especially after Harry traced a silence spell onto the marble floor.

“He’s a fraud,” Harry said decisively.

“What about the Order?”

“What about it? Do you know what I got mine for?” Harry flicked his knightly medal with his finger, the gesture casual.

“Wasn’t it for a werewolf?”

“Oh yeah, for the werewolf. But the hunt led me to some seedy places in Pubset. A brothel, where the bastard was picking out his next victim. The creature almost tore apart this one pretty boy – bare-ass naked – right on top of a cheap whore. That time, I lost him. But guess who the naked guy turned out to be?”

“Don’t tell me… de Camp?”

“Higher. It was our next Symbol of Honor and Unity.”

“Wait… The Prince?! What was he doing in a cheap brothel? Couldn’t he find a more… suitable girl in Shiny?”

“He thought no one would recognize him. Strictly speaking, he had a decent disguise – no one but me figured it out. Not even the werewolf, who blindly followed the strong heart.”

“So you got knighted for saving a royal life? You’ve got a prince as your patron, and you’ve kept quiet about it?”

“We’ve squared everything away. The title and The Anvil – more than enough. Besides, if he sees me again, he’ll realize I broke the silence seal.”

“Oh… And is that even possible?”

“Why would I lie about it?”

“I see you don’t believe in the Order, but even for you, they didn’t give a knighthood for nothing. They listed an unusual reason on the papers, registered it in the official archives. Probably even made it into the newspapers?”

“They did,” Harry confirmed.

“Then there must’ve been something about him, too. Maybe even with a photograph or a portrait.”

“That was in Freeland, though. Doubt any of it made it here.”

“It’s worth a shot. I was planning to spend some time in the archive anyway.” I needed to refine my idea for purchasing land. Yes, more urgent problems had popped up, but they always would. That’s no reason to abandon the plan – maybe delay it, but not give it up. You have to see things through. Otherwise, you risk becoming nothing more than a spineless twig carried along by the current of life.

“Then you shouldn’t go to the city archive,” Harry said. “You need the library archive.”

Damn, I hadn’t thought of that. Still, a few pounds could help me navigate both. There was no way I could manage this without help.

“Fairburn said they hired a detective. Maybe we should too?”

“Sunset?” Harry asked, puzzled.

“I was thinking of a private detective, but that might be even better. John could use state resources. For example, he could file a couple of requests with the royal archives or get in touch with Freeland’s police…”

“That kind of interest might blow back on him unless he has a solid reason.”

“He’ll find one if he wants our help with the Archmaker. Speaking of!” A thought hit me like lightning. “If we dig up something about the judge’s illegitimate son, it could slow down the guardianship case.”

“Doubtful. His reputation is such that if he gives his word, he’ll keep it.”

“Come on, Harry. You of all people know there’s a difference between reputation and true character. I can’t believe someone who fathered a child on the side has such unshakable principles.”

“Duncan, don’t reduce everything to black and white. Life’s a lot more complicated than that, and all of us have things in our past we regret – or even feel deeply ashamed of.”

“If that’s true, then there’s always a reason to bend principles. It’s worth a try. Arguing about it now is pointless while we don’t have all the facts. Better draw me that spell you used to unseal my lips. I’ve got a feeling I’ll need it again.”

“You can’t handle it.”

“I’ll have to! The amulet didn’t work.”

“You can’t handle it!” Harry repeated. “I’ll remake the amulet.”

“Go ahead, but give me the spell. I’ll add it to my top ten.”

“It doesn’t meet the conditions – it needs simplifying. As it is, it’s at least three spells rolled into one.”

“Then give me all three.”

“Fine. But we’re counting them as one.”

“Deal.”

Harry and I were practically left alone. We were present, yes, but had far too few acquaintances in the hall with whom we could exchange pleasantries about the weather or the Empire’s policies in the dominions. A few colorful characters approached Harry now and then with greetings, briefly interrupting our conversation before vanishing again.

This gave us plenty of time to discuss the brothers’ future. I suggested sending them to Avoc for the time being. They could turn the entire county upside down there if necessary, but Harry firmly rejected the idea.

“If we do that,” he said, “especially right after the reception, it’ll look like we’re deliberately hiding the boys. Better to act as though we have no idea about their lineage. Say they’re not Sparrows, but Joneses, and let Fairburn prove otherwise.”

De Camp, by the way, approved of the plan, adding that he’d send a trusted inspector to the orphanage. Once the inspection was complete, we’d have a better idea of what steps to take next. There were plenty of options to explore – from fiddling with the paperwork to ‘returning’ children of the right age to the orphanage. If the management, staff, and other orphans all testified that these were the same kids, Wimbush would be in a tight spot.

De Camp also advised hiring a trustee for such matters and even recommended a legal firm in the City. Harry said he’d think about it. Naturally, he was concerned that after such a recommendation, the trustee would be loyal to De Camp rather than him. Still, it was a solid idea.

Personally, I could use someone like that for my land purchase. And if I were to ask for someone’s opinion on the matter, it wouldn’t be the mayor’s. I’d ask the few uninvested people I know: the Flowers, the Sheridans, Sunset, or maybe even that mad vicar. I’d need to call Uncle, too. He might know a few trustworthy names, and an experienced schemer’s advice is always worth having.