“Why Lord Raith, if there is some dish you found missing from my courses please let me know and I’ll have it prepared. No need to trouble yourself in the kitchen. Let it never be said one of my guests left unsatisfied.”

  She added a wink to that last part that Raith wasn’t entirely sure how to interpret.

  “Not at all. Everything was wonderful. In fact, I just wanted to ask your chef for tips about setting up my own kitchen to deliver such delicious food. I am new to this stuff, and need all the advice I can get.”

  Raith was proud of that lie, but couldn’t tell if she bought it or not. Her smile never changed, but her eyes finally relaxed to match it.

  “Of course. But don’t you dare try to poach any of my talent,” she said wagging a finger. “When you’re done, you simply must come find me.”

  Breathing a huge sigh of relief as she made her way back to the dining hall, Raith turned to find the red headed servant. Darren was easy enough to find among the hustle and bustle of the large kitchen. He was cleaning up his station after the busy dinner and looked at Raith suspiciously as he approached. Raith glanced around, but it was noisy enough in the vast room that no one would be able to hear them unless they were standing right there.

  “Guildmaster Embry sent me to check after his man.”

  The suspicious scowl transformed into a look of sad concern.

  “Aye, he got to nosing around one the Lady’s meetings, if you know what I mean.”

  “I do not know what you mean.”

  Darren looked around dramatically, then lowered his voice to a stage whisper that probably carried further than if he’d just spoken normally.

  “Her secret meetings with the masked nobles. In the secret room behind her office. Once a month they come in the dead of night through the cellar passage. Wouldn't be the first time. Even had a few servants disappear who got too nosy, which is why I try to mind my own business, don't I?”

  Well that certainly sounded ominous, and like nothing he wanted to get involved with.

  “So Embry’s man accidentally walked in on one of these meetings?”

  The cook smiled sadly and shook his head.

  “Not much of an accident, really. If he’d just snatched the necklace and ran, he’d probably have escaped without a problem. But curiosity got the best of him, you see.”

  Raith saw indeed.

  Maybe I should try to find this secret room so I’ll have something more solid to report.

  He had to admit he was curious, but shook the thought from his head. That wasn’t a part of the deal with Embry and he was going to make the right decision for once.

  “Thank you, Darren,” he said, palming a coin and passing it off in a handshake that he immediately regretted. The man’s hand was damp and filthy from his cleaning, but Darren smiled and gave a nod as Raith made a quick exit from the kitchen.

  That all went shockingly well. It’s nice to have a task go easy for once.

  Raith headed back into the party just in time to hear Zinny loudly declare, “An Accord has been struck!”

  Oh, come on.

  Raith rushed over to the bar, where a crowd had gathered around his small fae adventuring partner. Zinny hovered in the air, hands planted firmly on her hips, wings flickering indignantly as she beamed triumphantly at Lady Greendawn. The tiny fae had chosen to flit several feet higher than usual, forcing their hostess to look up at her despite Zinny’s diminutive stature.

  Zinny’s handsome guest was nowhere to be seen, but Tolliver stood nearby among the crowd, looking utterly stricken by whatever had just transpired.

  Raith hurried up to the [Mage].

  “I’m afraid to ask, but what the threaded fuck is going on?”

  Tolliver turned toward him, his face pale.

  “Zinny just bet Lady Greendawn that she could throw a better party.”

  Raith blinked. “And…what did she bet?” he asked, dreading the answer.

  “She bet her house,” Tolliver said flatly.

  Raith’s jaw dropped. “And where is she going to throw this party?”

  Tolliver shook his head dumbly. “I have no idea.”

  Raith cursed under his breath, silently praying that Zinny didn’t intend to host it at his place. Although as he gave it more thought, losing her house might not be a big deal in the scheme of things. After all, they were all living together in his manor and he wasn’t sure what the fae wanted with her own house anyways. Still, this was an unnecessary complication in his life right now.

  He felt a light tap on his shoulder and turned to find Zinny’s mysterious companion standing behind him. The sidhe offered a knowing smile and a slight, graceful bow.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “We meet again, Raith,” the stranger said smoothly. “Did you have any luck chasing down that serving girl you've been making eyes at all night?”

  Raith sputtered, completely flustered.

  “It wasn’t like that!” he protested, glancing nervously around to see who else might have overheard. The last thing he needed was more gossip spreading through the nobles’ hall. But then the man’s words sank in, and Raith frowned. “Wait, meet again? I assure you, sir, I would remember a face like yours.”

  The man’s smile widened into something sharp and predatory.

  “Ah, perhaps you would remember me better in my armor. After all, it was once my weapon that you now wear at your waist.”

  Raith felt the color drain from his face. “Imiren?” he breathed.

  The sidhe gave a low, sweeping bow, eyes gleaming like polished emeralds. “The one and the same,” he said smoothly. “Though no longer a knight. I should thank you, really. It was the loss of my weapon that inspired me to finally remove the armor I’d worn for so many millennia. The fae moon is waxing, and I thought it was time once again to see what the mortal realm has to offer. Reacquaint myself, have a bit of fun...perhaps collect some debts.”

  Raith didn’t like the sound of that last part one bit. He shifted uncomfortably beneath Imiren’s ancient, knowing gaze that stood in such stark contrast to his youthful looks.

  Raith felt a gentle tap on his elbow and turned to see a woman who, for a moment, made his breath catch in his throat. She looked startlingly like Camillia, his ex-girlfriend, though the differences were quickly apparent. This woman was a bit slimmer, her brown hair shorter and styled far more elegantly than Camillia would ever have bothered with. She also wore much heavier makeup and showed considerably more cleavage than his ex ever had.

  The woman gave a graceful bow.

  “Forgive me, my lord, but the Lady suggested you might need some additional company this evening.”

  A sharp chuckle from the fae drew Raith’s attention. Imiren was watching him, smiling broadly. The sidhe placed his hands together and dipped his head in mock courtesy. “Well,” he said lightly, “it seems you have some desires to take care of, Raith. Until we meet again.”

  And with that, he vanished smoothly into the crowd, leaving Raith standing awkwardly in front of the woman, who continued smiling up at him with unmistakable seduction in her eyes.

  “Ah…well...there seems to have been some misunderstanding,” Raith stammered. He glanced over her shoulder and froze. Across the room, he spotted Camillia’s parents staring daggers at him, their faces twisted in disgust. A cold realization hit him. Did Lady Greendawn send this woman on purpose? She certainly bore enough of a resemblance to make the gesture pointed.

  “I don’t need any additional attention this evening,” Raith said as politely as he could manage, “but it was very kind of you to offer.”

  The woman inclined her head with a sly smile. “Very well. Please tell the Lady should you change your mind, and I would be happy to accommodate.” She turned and sauntered away with a decidedly extra amount of sway in her hips.

  Raith exhaled in relief, then spotted Thea across the room near their table. She was sipping a glass of wine, chatting amiably with a small group of nobles. He hurried over and grabbed her elbow.

  “Excuse me, the interruption everyone,” he said, forcing a polite smile to the group. “Lady Thea, may I speak with you for a moment?”

  She smiled apologetically at her companions. “Forgive me. I’ll return in just a moment.”

  Raith pulled her aside and hissed, “Why does everybody think I wanted to sleep with the serving girl?”

  Thea rolled her eyes and gave an incredulous snort. “You’ve been watching her all night long and followed her out into the servants’ hall. What did you think people were going to imagine you were doing?”

  Raith’s cheeks flushed crimson. Before he could respond, Thea softened slightly and patted his shoulder. “On the bright side,” she added with a smirk, “there were several ladies here sizing you up for matchmaking with their daughters. They’ve now decided you’re far too much of a letch to bother with.”

  Raith groaned. While he was glad to have avoided any awkward matchmaking, the reasoning behind it didn’t make him feel much better.

  Before he could wallow further, Thea cut in. “So,” she said, tilting her head, “were you able to find out what you needed to satisfy your not-a-quest?”

  Raith’s mouth twisted. “Yes,” he muttered, glancing around the room to make sure no one was close enough to overhear. “It seems our gracious hostess also hosts some sort of secret masked noble meeting once a month. The thief must’ve stumbled into it. Several of the servants who’ve tried to snoop around have also disappeared.”

  Thea raised her eyebrows. “And…are you planning to investigate that further?”

  He shook his head quickly. “No. I was only asked to find out what was happened to the [Thief], and that’s exactly what I did. That’s the end of it.”

  Thea patted his shoulder approvingly. “Oh, good. It’s honestly shocking to hear you display any sense at all, but still, good. Now let’s do a little more mingling, and then ask Tolliver how long we have to stay before we can get out of this place.”

  ***

  Beauregard teleported silently down from his perch on the ceiling, descending like a shadow to get closer to his prey. She sat at her night table before the mirror, brushing her hair. If she repeated last night’s routine, there would be one hundred strokes of the dark wooden brush, its stiff bristles sliding through her golden-blonde locks that fell thickly to the middle of her back.

  He felt a thrill course through him as he crept closer, his fingers reflexively brushing the ring on his hand that kept him utterly invisible to his prey. His movements were soundless, every step a masterwork of stealth. He dared himself forward until he could smell the faint, clean scent of the soap she had used for her bath.

  Then, one stray wisp of hair, flung from the brush, drifted through the air and brushed against his face. He closed his eyes and leaned back, savoring that ghostly touch, exhaling a sigh of unbidden ecstasy.

  The young woman startled at the faint sound, whirling around sharply. In an instant, Beauregard teleported back up to the ceiling, his heart hammering, exhilarated. He had come so close this time. Closer than ever before. Closer than he could have dared without the protection of that marvelous ring, the powerful enchantment concealing him far better than even his most powerful [Rogue] [Skills] ever could.

  He had left the Myth Seekers at that noblewoman’s party, drinking and socializing, for there was nothing more for him to learn at those festivities. It was far too dangerous to skulk about noble estates anyway. Their wards and magical defenses could pierce even the invisibility granted by his powerful ring.

  But here…here he could test its limits. And how he had.

  He found himself too excited to continue his silent stalking tonight. The thrill had burned too brightly, set his blood aflame. With a smirk, he decided to teleport across the continent to Shan, where drink and flesh could douse the restless fire inside him. They always had the best of both in the Free City.

  Tomorrow, when he awoke, he would track down the Myth Seekers and discover where they were hiding the item his High Emissary had commanded him to retrieve. That the whole of the Templar forces would be required to march on Beckhaven if he failed in this task was no small motivation. War was such a tedious task and left little time for the pleasure of his games. It would be a simple matter to snatch the relic from the grasp of these children in the morning.

  But until then, the night was his.