Helo

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Riona & Leo

part 2

Time: Morning
Location: Guest House

---

Leo had stopped a few paces before the entrance to the servant’s hall, just close enough to listen in on a good chunk of the conversation. Just as he’d heard enough, Martin placed a hand on his shoulder. “I suggest a breath, Sir.”

“My next breath will be to fire all of them. Did you hear them? They all hate me. Slanderous, disloyal, ungrateful, treacherous-” Leo hissed out a list of faults. Mockery was one thing, but to pick at every crack in the Smithwood house was a betrayal.

“Frustrated, milord. And provoked into venting. You have shared similar thoughts.” Martin pointed out.

“That’s different.”

“Is it?”

Leo thought about that brief time after he’d learned his father had gone missing but before that leach, Valerie, had started hanging around his mother. “We were all having dinner last night. Mom, Thea, me, and it was peaceful. No one was arguing, no weird tension, no one yelling. And I realized how quiet the house has been since I’ve been back. I liked it, it felt more like a home than it had in a while. Then I realized why. Now the quiet just makes me agitated.”

It hadn’t ever occurred to him that the servants had also weathered the tumultuous household. There was relief in the air once the Duke was gone, Leo was just the only one resentful of that feeling. But for the servants, much like his mother, it seems they only felt an oppressive weight being lifted.

There were also his unadmitted thoughts, nights spent wondering if his mother was involved in his father’s disappearance. It was the simplest explanation, it lined up with how his mother behaved. Flaunted her happiness, when even the maid seemed to notice that both he and Thea still suffered.

“I will not be surrounded by servants who hate me, Martin.” Leo said.

“You want to hire new servants? Here? Now?” Martin asked, knowing the answer. “Waste your summer or boost the morale? What’s more efficient? He calmly pointed out.

“Throw them a bone,” Leo said slowly. “Treat them more like my hounds and less like untrained mutts.”

“Not exactly,” Martin said but Leo had already made up his mind on how to fix this issue.

Riona nursed her coffee as she told the Smithwood servants about castle life. She painted broad strokes of her experiences, careful not to dip into the muck. Their sympathetic nods and encouraging words warmed her more than the drink in her hands.

Glancing down at the steaming liquid in her hands, Riona said, “It sounds like a tough household to grow up in. Plenty of people turn to vices because of that.” Unbidden, images of Cal and Anastasia flickered across her mind. A lot of good that did them. She exhaled slowly, “Can’t outrun your demons forever, though. Here’s hoping Lady Thea finds someone to lean on before she hits that wall.”

Her lips quirked into a wry grin. “Leo, needs a kick in the butt.” Ripple of snickers and muttered agreements swept through the group.

Once it died down, she added, “I think there’s still hope for him yet.” Shocked expressions greeted this declaration. Riona snorted. “Yeah, I know, I know. Hear me out.” She traced the rim of her cup. “First time I gave him a piece of my mind, he could’ve done any number of nasty things. Have me arrested, beat me, whatever his fancy noble ass felt entitled to. But he didn’t. He... talked. Mind you, he didn’t give two sh*ts about what I was saying, but still... it’s more than what some highborns would do.”

Riona met the gazes of the gathered servants. “If that numbskull ever learns how to listen—really listen, and see people as, well, people… he might just make a decent Duke someday.” She sighed, swirling the dregs of her coffee. “Getting him to pull his head out of his ass long enough to pay attention? That’s the real challenge.”

“... Why do you care so much about some spoiled Varian lord?”

Riona blinked. “I don’t—”

The maid who had been walking ahead of Leo stepped into the room, silencing whatever half-formed protest Riona had been about to voice.

"Attention Smithwood servants," Leo entered the room, head aloft as if he'd heard none of their gossip. "I have no need for any of you today, graciously I offer you an extra day off to enjoy Sorian. Martin’s apprentice will provide a stipe for your leisure.” He announced before quickly turning to leave to find his new room.

The best way to earn back favor was with gifts; he’d learn that from his father. That was how he’d gotten his first hound; the disappointment of a missed birthday swiftly replaced by the excitement of a puppy. The moment his father pulled a barking ball of wrinkles and fur from a carrier, Leo felt the sharp pangs of guilt for having scowled at his father for returning a few days late.

“You don’t actually take the time to communicate with your servants, do you?” Riona stepped into the Lordling’s new room, casting away formalities.

Leo didn’t answer at first, he only continued to flip through items in his closet, thinking over what he’d wear today. “I communicate my wishes, nothing else is required.” He said, after an extended silence.

“I pay them to do things and then they do those things. That’s how this works, how it has always worked. Are you meeting with the Queen for tea? Having deep heart to hearts with His Majesty?” He posed a rhetorical question, the very idea of it absurd. But he recalled catching the strange Count Hendrix washing dishes with the Vikena servants. How the Vikenas were oddly close, overly personable, with their servants, The Vikenas also held a poor reputation, and their eccentricities seemed unwise to replicate.

Riona’s brow furrowed as she watched Leo rifle through his closet, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I said communicate, not bark orders or hold one-sided conversations,” she said pointedly.

Striding over to the shoe rack cabinet, she pulled out several pairs and laid them out for the lordling’s perusal. “Paying them doesn’t earn you loyalty. Giving them wages is the bare minimum you do as their employer.” She glanced up at Leo, gauging his reaction. “As their future Duke, you need to be more than just the one signing their checks.”

Funny, he didn’t remember appointing a maid as his advisor. Leo only shrugged as a response. He selected a shirt and suit for the day, then silently looked over the shoes Riona had laid out.

His silence only fueled her. “Or else you’ll end up surrounded by people who won’t mourn you when you’re gone. Who’ll be willing to betray you for a single copper more than what you pay them. Worse, they’ll stab you in the back for even less—and smile while doing it.”

When Leo finally selected a pair, Riona scooped up the rejected options, returning them to their precise spots on the rack.

“You can’t honestly believe that buying affection is more effective than earning it, can you?” She softened her voice. “Haven’t you ever wished for... I don’t know, actual time with someone? Something more meaningful than another shiny distraction?”

Leo inspected the bottom of his shoes ensuring no slipper coating had been applied. It hadn’t.
“I spend enough of my time doing things I don’t want to do. Is it so unreasonable to expect them to do as they were hired? Without betrayal? They are fed, housed, paid; that should earn gratitude.” He countered, frustrated with the fact that even though it made perfect sense his servants were clearly disloyal.

Riona sighed as she unfolded the privacy screen, its ornate panels creaking softly. “With that attitude?” While Leo stepped behind it and she went to fetch the lint brush.

“Do you know how exhausting it is? Conversing with people I don’t like? Laughing at Count Hansen’s jokes? Listening to Count Mäkinen drone on about wine pairings? Smile at the same people who whisper that my mother is some sort of secret murderer behind our backs?” He continued, ignoring her comment.

“Sounds an awful lot like the average day of any servant working under someone they don’t particularly like.” She heard fabric rustling as Leo changed.

“Now I should do the same with servants? You expect me to believe they want quality time with me?” He snorted, shook his head, and draped discarding clothing over the top of the screen

“Let’s test that, you go ahead and say whatever else is on your mind, and then tell me if you’ve gained any loyalty towards me after this conversation.”

After a pause, he heard her say, “Okay.” Then take a breath.

“Loyalty is earned through mutual respect,” she explained as plain and simple as possible.

Riona busied herself with smoothing out a wrinkle on her dress, giving her hands something to do as she waited for Leo to finish dressing. “You say they should be grateful for feeding, housing, and paying them. Then why aren’t you grateful to them for cooking your meals, maintaining your house, paying their taxes—which, mind you, come back as part of their wage?”

She lifted her chin, staring at the folding screen. “Leo, I’m not suggesting you be their best friend. Just... treat them like people. With dignity. You might be surprised how far that goes.”

Leo said nothing as Riona addressed him far too casually. He let the privacy screen become a barrier, not unlike a confessional booth, one that let him imagine he was not considering taking advice from some maid. He chuckled at her words as he buttoned up his shirt, not because he found it funny but because he saw an unwanted point there. People were more loyal to those they liked.

“It’d be fake, just another thing I’d have to do for the results, to gain loyalty. I guess that is what everyone wants; royals, nobles, commoners, to watch everyone around them engaged in the same performance.” Maybe Riona had a point, there were no breaks from the performance, not on vacation and not even within one’s home. The last thing he needed was a house full of treacherous servants.

Riona couldn’t help it. The laugh burst out of her, sharp and sudden. It should’ve been bitter, all thorns and vinegar, but instead it charged with disbelief. “Gods,” she muttered, dragging her fingers through her hair. The motion sent her carefully crafted bun unraveling, dark curls tumbling free. Screw it. She was off-duty, more or less. “How full of yourself are you that treating folks like people is actually a job for you?”

Leo let out a heavy sigh at her laughter, it seemed foolish to expect a maid could understand how tiring the burden of nobility could get. “I will serve them one day, as their Duke. My whole life, my every action, every thought, dedicated to best serving Stravy. They are more than people, they are an obligation I am beholden to.” He admitted as he finished dressing.

That… was not what Riona expected to hear.

“Why do you care? About what I do, how I treat my servants? What’s your stake in this?” Leo asked, remaining behind the partition, inspecting his jacket for lint or loose threads.

The answer burned in Riona’s throat. She wanted to matter. To prove that she could make a difference, regardless of her bloodline. That she wasn’t still that helpless kid watching her world burn. How, even knowing vengeance led to only death and destruction, she craved to leave one good mark behind before her time was up.

She could’ve said all that and more but instead, she said, “Right, because you don’t treat people below your station, who aren’t your servants, with utter contempt?” The sarcasm dripped from her voice. “Please.”

“You chose to introduce yourself to me by scraping muck onto my shoes and calling me an idiot, by your own standards you did not invite respect. I do not go around provoking commoners for fun.” He answered.

“Nor do I expect you to,” Riona shot back, “I didn’t do that to gain your respect. I wanted to make damn sure you remembered what this ‘random commoner’ had to say.” She folded her arms over her chest. “That’s your problem. You provoke without even realizing it. You’re so sure you’re in the right, you can’t even see how much of a spoiled ass you can come across as.” Leo only rolled his eyes at that response, he had a different opinion on who was provoking whom.

Not hearing much movement from behind the screen, Riona rapped her knuckles against the panel. “I’m coming in,” she warned, giving Leo a heartbeat to object before she rounded the corner.

There he stood, neck craned at an awkward angle, trying to check out his backside. Riona stepped in, brandishing the lint brush. “Allow me,” she said and started at his back.

As she worked, methodically brushing away lint and loose threads, she continued. “How one treats their servants often reflects how they treat everyone else. It’s a pretty good indicator of what kind of leader you’ll be.”

Her hands moved efficiently, working their way around to his front. She just finished with his arms, a thought slipped out. “You know, the way you talk, it’s like you can’t stand a single person in Stravy.”

The offhand remark sparked something in her mind. A ridiculous thought. Completely absurd, given how much value he placed on being the next Duke of Stravy. And yet... The way he described dealing with people, nobility or not, as an exhausting performance…

Riona looked up at him, her brow furrowed. “Do you…” she hesitated, hardly believing she was asking this, “even want to be Duke?”

“I will be the next Duke, there is no use in wondering if I want that or not, it will happen. I want to do right by my family and by Stravy.” Leo answered, and never once had he ever thought about not becoming a duke. He often avoided thinking about his future but not stepping up when his time came was never an option.

That… wasn’t a yes. Which surprised her. “Leo…” she began to say as her gaze dropped to the floor.

“Riona,” He paused and offered a polite and hollow smile as he addressed her. “You have surprisingly good hair.” He added before circling back to the topic at hand.

Her head snapped up so fast she nearly gave herself whiplash. What the hells? Where did that come from? Riona’s fingers found their way to her hair, suddenly self-conscious. She took an involuntary step back, studying Leo’s face.

That smile. She recognized that particular brand of polite emptiness; it was the kind of mask she’d seen a thousand times. Her lips pursed.

“That’s how this all works, nobles get to live extravagant lives in exchange for caring for our land, and its people. Houses that fail to live up to that fall. Sometimes violently, sometimes they slowly crumble, but I will not allow my house to fall. I am required to see my people as a collective, not worry about the whims of individuals, but to meet the needs of the masses and keep Stravy progressing. It is not malicious, it is practical.” He kept still as he spoke, his posture impeccable, and his words coated in the smugness of someone who knew they were right.

“When creating policies, sure, you’ve got to look at the big picture,” she conceded. “But you can’t just lump people all together when it’s one-on-one. You’re dealing with flesh and blood, not the collective.”

She gave him a once-over, checking if she brushed every lint and stray hair off. “Look, if you insist on seeing everything as some grand machine, fine. But remember: even the tiniest gear can bring the whole thing crashing down.” She smoothed out a wrinkle in his lapel and adjusted his collar. “And like it or not, you, m’lord, are just as much a cog in the contraption as anyone else. Might want to oil those connections with your fellow parts before you break something you can’t fix.”

“I am not a cog, Riona, I operate the machine, I replace the faulty gears.” He corrected the analogy, choosing to leave out that problems also arose when the masses thought they were equals with nobility.

She shook her head. “You are. The machine is the dukedom. And you are just a cog.” A finger jabbed his chest with each word. “Just. Like. Us.” Riona smirked, “The collective.”

He lightly swatted her hand away from him. “Agree to disagree.” He shrugged, some things weren’t worth the argument. “And now that we have conversed like people, I have even asked you about yourself, although you avoided my questions, and I have said something nice to you. Do feel more loyalty toward me now?” He asked, expecting a resolute no from the maid.

“Compared to before?” She lifted her chin, held Leo’s gaze, almost defiantly and answered, “Yes.”

“I felt heard. I felt seen. I got to know a little about you and I respect the effort. You’ll get better with practice.” The privacy screen creaked as she folded it. “Since we’re building trust here, I’ll give you the short answer to the one question you asked: I care, because I’m selfish.”

“Selfish?” He repeated what he considered a nonanswer with a snort. “Your answer is you have the same motivation as everyone else? What kind of selfish are you? Just interested in venting your frustrations out on a random nobleman? Or is your interest in extortion? Hoping I’ll try and grease the faulty gear to behave so I can look good in front of Lady Morrigan?” Leo admired himself in the mirror, considering that might be the easiest remedy.

“... We could’ve ended on a high note too.” Riona sighed and put the lint brush away. “I don’t care about those things and I certainly don’t give a damn about Morrigan.”

“So it’s not money that you want?” He asked for clarification, disappointment evident that he could not simply pay the problem, known as Riona, to simply go away.

“No.” The maid answered flatly.

“You’d rather I keep talking to you instead of a bribe?” He looked away from the mirror and watched for any sign that monetary gain might tempt her away from whatever game she played. “And in exchange you will stop trying to make me look incompetent?” An annoying agreement but if it kept Morrigan off his case it might be worth it.

“I am not responsible for your competence.” Riona’s hand was inches from the doorknob when she stopped. She let out a long-suffering sigh and spun on her heel to face Leo. “But if you want to work on not being a total asshat then let’s practice talking and we’ll see where that takes us. Deal?” Her hand thrusted out, daring him to take it.

Leo looked at her hand as if he were being offered a dirty rag. He craned his neck to inspect it for cleanliness, remembering the dreadful horse muck incident.

Ah, so predictable. “It’s too late now. I already touched your clothes.”

“Fine, deal.” He said before stepping forward and shaking her hand. He could imagine Morrigan laughing at him for this, almost heard it in his head, but managed not to grimace as he pulled his hand back. “And name-calling is provoking, just so you know.” Leo added, unable to hold that one back, the beginning of a smile at the corners of his mouth.

Riona smirked back, “Didn’t say I won’t call you out when you need it.” she said, her hand already on the doorknob. “Till tomorrow, Leo.”

With that, she slipped out, the soft click of the latch punctuating her exit. In the corridor, Riona allowed herself a small, satisfied smile.

TLDR

Riona and Leo attempt to have a conversation like reasonable humans. It could've gone worse.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Riona & Leo

part 1

Time: Morning
Location: Guest House

---

Martin Barnaby held a perpetually stern expression. When his intense amber eyes landed on the group of tittering servants that gathered outside his lordship’s room, they fell silent and returned to work. Ray followed behind him, frequently seen in the other man’s large shadow, lagging just a few paces behind the older man. Ray’s wiry frame was made smaller and unassuming by his proximity to the barrel-chested Martin.

“Told ya, gotta see it to believe it. Gone awry.” Ray spoke, clearly amused by the situation.

“Indeed.” Martin huffed out the word, unamused and annoyed. He brushed past the maid and lifted the chair Leo was stuck in without any sign of effort. “Pull him out.” He instructed his apprentice while holding the chair still.

“Martin!” Leo exclaimed with relief as he was finally pulled free from the world’s worst chair. “Look at this! The maid messed up my room. That is the opposite of what maids should do, right?”

“Correct, sir.” Martin said, eyes flickering to Riona. “Very childish.” He added even as Ray not so discreetly tried to hide a smirk by scratching at his face. “Raymond will see that it’s fixed.”

Ray’s smirk vanished as he gave Riona an annoyed look and mouthed, 'thanks for the extra work.'

Riona stared down Ray, her silent rebuke wiping the annoyance off his face. And being forced to redecorate because of the Lordling’s whim isn’t extra work? Really, Ray? Really? She wanted to scoff. This wasn’t even his own house.

Years of service helped keep Riona’s expression a mask of professional neutrality as she addressed Martin. Her spine straightened imperceptibly, chin lifting a fraction of an inch. “Lord Smithwood’s instructions were quite clear, sir,” she stated, her voice crisp and even. “He requested immediate redecoration. No specifics were provided regarding color schemes or themes.” Her eyes slid to Sh*tfaced-lord, “Given the constraints of time and direction, I selected from a diverse array of options.” Oh, how she wished she could drop Shehzade Farim’s name into the mix, to watch the shock ripple across Lord Smithwood’s face. But the prince’s desire for plausible deniability was clear enough.

Instead, Riona allowed herself the tiniest of smiles. “I must say, milord seemed to find great amusement in the new decor. Your laughter was quite... enthusiastic. It gave the impression that Your Lordship has an appreciation for the unexpected?”

“It is amusing…” Leo commented, begrudgingly as he looked around at the collection of comically small, ugly, and impractical furniture. “But incorrect. And it can’t stay like this.” He insisted. “I won’t stay in a room full of junk.”

“You knew better.” Martin’s statement was more of a detached fact than an accusation. Leo gestured to Martin and nodded his head, he and his bodyguard were always on the same page.

“The tales of the Varian Kingdom’s love for every art form, led me astray, it seems,” she said. “In the future, perhaps His Lordship could deign to be more specific about his desires. It would save us all the tedium of guesswork.” Martin’s only response was a barely audible snort.

The young lord brushed himself off and reached for the croissant he didn’t remember ordering. Martin cleared his throat and shook his head. Leo quickly sat the croissant back down.

“And I'm not drunk!” Leo remembered the accusation Riona had made when she’d first entered. “Don’t be ridiculous, it’s not even noon! I’m not Prince Callum.” The young lord chuckled at his own joke as Martin picked up and sniffed the empty coffee cup his lord had already finished. Although he caught no whiff of alcohol he eyed Riona with suspicion.

Some of the servants outside the door shifted uncomfortably at the casual slander against Caesonia’s royalty.

It was easy to ignore Martin, less so Sh*tlord. “Of course not, milord. I am sure it is merely the intoxicating effects of redecorating that have you in such high spirits this morning. Though your current state does bear a striking resemblance to His Highness’s ‘appreciation for interior design.’”

“No that’s not it.” Leo quickly dismissed Riona’s explanation. “It must be lingering effects from Count Landon’s gathering. I did drink there…and I bet that spa dehydrated me.” He fumbled his way around an explanation. He did feel intoxicated, but he was certain there hadn’t been alcohol in his coffee.

“Sounds like a proper breakfast is in order. Maybe a feast, huh, moving furniture is hungry work.” Ray suggested with an outstretched hand.

Leo moved a bag of coins from his pocket to Ray’s hand. “Coffee too.” Leo instructed.

“Can’t have breakfast without it!” He wasted no time sending a pair of the looky-loos who loitered in the doorway to pick up breakfast and coffee from someplace other than the palace.

Riona eyed the extra breakfast, her clasped hands tightening in front of her as she said, “If you intend to waste food, then perhaps it could be shared with those in need.”

“Right, Riona, where we moving all this stuff too? And where’s the lord’s proper furniture?” He asked walking back into the room. He looked to Martin, who gave him a single nod, to gauge how well he was doing.

“You mean the royal family’s proper furniture? The same furniture your lordship ordered us to move without asking if he was actually allowed to do it?” Riona didn’t say anything for a bit, just maintained direct eye contact with Ray before finally answering. Ray returned the look, unblinking as if this was a staring contest. “It’s in storage, of course.” She couldn’t give less of a damn where they took the new furniture, but since it technically wasn’t the guest house’s, the Smithwoods would have to deal with it themselves.

Ray kept staring waiting for the other half of his question to be answered. After a few beats, he realized he wasn’t getting an answer for where to take the unwanted furniture, so he turned to look at Leo.

“What?!” Leo asked, once he realized Martin’s apprentice was looking at him.

“Where you want all this moved to?” Ray asked, gesturing around the room. “Sir.” He added as an afterthought.

“Martin, why is he asking me this?” Leo asked as he searched the room for his belongings, which seemed to have disappeared alongside everything else familiar in the room.

“He’s still learning, milord. Raymond will fetch a horse and cart and get this all hulled down to the slums. Where junk belongs, eh.” Martin offered as Leo nodded in agreement.

Considering what kind of stores she purchased the decor from, Riona tried not to smirk.

“We can even make sure the papers hear of your charitable spirit.” He added.

“Yes, the high-end, respectable stores these came from would appreciate knowing your opinion about their products.”

“Riona, the thoughts of merchants on what I do with their products after purchase, are not a concern of mine. It’s a fine idea, do that.”

“...And the other nobles who make up most of their clientele.” She added quietly.

While Ray went to fetch a cart, Martin corralled any servants lingering outside Lord Smithwood’s door to help move all the furniture outside. Quick and efficient, by the time Ray returned all the furniture was neatly stacked outside waiting to be loaded up. A pair of servants were sent to hand out free furniture in the slums. Another was sent to ensure House Smithwood’s generosity got publicity; donating the results of a purchasing mishap to the destitute.

Meanwhile, Riona and the servants, both from House Smithwood and the castle, placed their bets.
“Copper says it all ends up as firewood by tomorrow.”
“Pansy. Ten coppers.”
“Sod that, loser scrubs privies for a week.” This suggestion was met with groans and nervous laughter.
“No, no, no. Did you see the quality of the material? It’d be too much of a waste to just burn it all. Fifty copper says people’ll strip them for parts.”
“If it’s worth that much, I’d say it’ll all be pawned off by the end of the week. One full silver.”

A collective ooh and ahh erupted from the gathered staff and others quickly piled on to the wager before another bet was made.

“One free drink at any tavern of choice for a month, that someone will give the Smithwoods rubbish as a ‘thank you for leaving your crap in our neighborhood’ present. Anyone want in?”
“Depends,” the servant scratched his chin, “where were they gonna leave the ‘donation’ again?”
“The slums.” A handful of servants nodded knowingly and placed their wagers.
“Are they going to mention His Lordship’s name?”
The butler grinned, “You bet.” A lot more people joined in this time.

---

The guest chamber sat empty, stripped bare, all furnishings gone save for the table and chair where Lordling Stuffypants was shoveling food into his face. Riona stood at attention nearby, bored out of her skull. The breakfast cart she’d wheeled up sulked in the corner and its contents grew colder by the minute.

Apparently she couldn’t be trusted to move so much as a footstool without supervision. So here she was, spending her morning doing her best impression of a statue while Smithwood chomped away, oblivious.

Riona wondered how long it would take His Lordlingship to notice the distinct lack of progress on the so-called “furniture rearrangement” he’d ordered.

Oh, his personal belongings had been hauled out by his own servants a while ago. But since then? Nothing. No one had returned, except for Sh*tlord’s bodyguards, and the room stayed barren. Only the rhythmic clink-scrape of fork against plate broke the silence.

“You know that’s creepy, right? Leo asked finishing a full plate of breakfast offerings, intentionally scraping fork against plate to see if it caused a reaction from Riona. He wondered how long she could stand there like a creepy too real statue, without a single perceptible movement. He leaned back in the chair, finishing a third cup of coffee but feeling worse than when he’d started his meal. Still, he got up, unsteadily, and looked around the hallway for someone to remove his dishes and the table and chair from the room.

“Milord has never complained before,” Riona answered flatly. Most people who employ servants almost always want them to blend into the background. She didn’t understand why this was bothering the Lordling now.

“Well, now it’s creepy.” He accused, looking down an empty hallway, annoyed at not seeing dutiful servants carrying furniture. “Where is everyone?” Leo asked stumbling back into the room. “It shouldn’t take this long.” He insisted, words beginning to slur together as he stared at Riona expectantly. Martin and Ray finished their own meals, having a quiet conversation on the other side of the room, occasionally glancing over as their lord bickered with Riona.

Her eyes glanced at the window. Based on the light and activity outside, she guessed the time. “They are likely taking a break or back doing their usual duties,” Riona answered.

“A break? When the job’s barely half-finished?” Leo rolled his eyes, this wasn’t how things were done in Stravy. Dad never had these problems. They’d all be scrambling to get everything done before he finished speaking. His father had a voice like absolute authority, Leo had no such roar.

“Well, go ahead.” He snapped at Riona. “Gloat about your meager victory. You’ve soured my day, I’ll be incredibly late to Lord Drake’s birthday, forced to deal with the issue you caused. Congratulations Riona, you are far more aggravating than an insect…untrained pet…beast of burden…whatever it was I called you that ruffled your feathers.” Leo paced, staggering about, as he spoke. Up and down the nearly empty room.

He didn’t hear Riona’s “... I already told you what my problem is with you.”

Martin cleared his throat. “Sir, is it worth the risk? Showing up to the lord’s birthday this-” Martin paused for the right word.

“Wasted!” Ray offered.
“Inebriated.” Martin continued, as a look of deep annoyance crossed his face.

“I’m not-” Leo stumbled and once he’d righted himself a look of concern flashed across his face. “I’m drunk.” He admitted, but he’d not had a drop since last night. “Pranked! Again! That solves it, Martin! The pranks are definitely happening in this guest house.” Leo excitedly shared the clue he’d found.

“Most likely.” Martin agreed.

“And you’re sure Verrick left?” Leo asked.

“I watched him leave with the Royals,” Ray confirmed. Leo only looked at Martin, who nodded.

“That settles it. I forgo the birthday party, we’ll spend the morning figuring out suspects, detective work. Once the room gets fixed.” Leo continued to wait for servants who continued to remain unaware of their lord’s need for urgency.

“If you intend to sit here all day, may I take my leave?” Because he was going to stay here all day if he waited for “this room to get fixed.” And even she couldn’t stand still for that long. She glanced at the breakfast cart and wondered if she should just eat that for lunch.

“Go ahead,” Leo gestured to the food cart that Riona kept eyeing, wondering why she seemed so concerned with an uneaten croissant when bigger problems were happening. “I am no longer eating anything prepared in the kitchens here.”

“I will inform the staff to never serve you food in this castle, or made from the castle kitchens, from this moment forward.” Riona walked over to the table. “Would you like to extend that request to drinks as well?”

“You will not! It’s a secret.” He insisted, he wasn’t risking insulting the crown like that.

A small smile appeared on the maid’s face. “Understood, drinks will be served as normal.”

Riona's reply went unheard as Leo did his best to ignore her input. “Now, we’re all going to the storage room and moving everything back.” Leo decided, it seemed that was the only way anything was getting done today. Leo didn’t wait for an answer, he headed out of the room and waited for someone to lead the way to the storage room. Ray headed past Smithwood, directing the lord toward the storage room.

“Has my watch been found?” Leo asked.

“Not yet.” Martin said.

Ray spun around and began walking backward as he spoke. “Right! Full report on the missing pocket watch. I canvassed the marketplace, shops on the up and up, sellers on the down low. Everything in between. No one’s tried to fence it, far as I can tell but, if anyone tries, we’ll know about it.” He turned back around. “Nothing on the thief. Hard to track someone down without a face or name.” Ray added.

“So we have nothing.” Leo stopped walking as he spoke, disappointment heavy in his words. “He’d be so disappointed in me.” He continued walking, mumbling as he did so. “I wasn’t careful enough, I just let some common thief swipe it.” Leo cleared his throat. “We have to find that watch.”

Riona listened into the conversation thoughtfully as she cleared up the Lordling breakfast mess and loaded it up on the cart.

They reached the storage room and began the arduous process of moving all the original furniture back into Leo’s guest room. The small upside to the few wasted morning hours was that his original intent, of the furniture being moved around in a way he found more favorable, was finally realized. The effects of the alcohol he hadn't even consumed were ebbing as well.

A servant emerged from the hallway and paused, clearly confused. “My lord? What are you doing with those furniture? They have not been properly refurbished yet. Did you not like the room we prepared for you?”

“Pardon?” Leo asked, confused. Of course, he didn’t like the empty room! He didn’t wait for the servant to repeat themselves. “I am being moved to a different room? Why wasn’t I told this?” He asked, then his attention flickered to Riona, who’d said nothing while they moved the wrong furniture, and was currently having her back turned to him as she swept the floor.

“A small misunderstanding.” Martin said, his hand clapping against the young lord’s shoulder. “A small pittance for a room upgrade.” His words drew the ire out of Leo’s tone.

“That’s true…excellent then. A better room. This one is unlucky.” Leo quickly decided he was glad to leave the room where misfortune so often struck him.

The look of confusion intensified on the servant. “I beg your pardon, my lord, but it’s exactly the same style of room you pre—” the servant began, but was immediately cut off.

Martin approached the servant, inquiring about the location of the new room and once that was settled dismissed them back to their duties. “We’ll get all this returned to storage, and if you need help restoring furniture, let me know.” Martin added before they left, sounding uncharacteristically chipper about fixing something more tangible than a lord’s minor inconveniences.

“You,” Leo wagged a finger at Riona. “Surprising me with terrible furnishing only to have me switched to a better room.” Leo chuckled as he finally got the joke. “This is an improvement. A stepping stone toward being a better servant! Once the childish antics cease I’ll have passed Lady Morrigan’s bizarre test. He thought about that for a moment.

“Could Lady Morrigan be my prankster? She does have an odd obsession with testing me...” He thought aloud.

The maid spun around—and it wasn’t Riona. Not even close. She cocked her head and seemed to give Leo’s question some serious thought. “I don’t believe so? I rarely hear her mention you, if at all.” Then she beamed at him and, with the energy of some delivering him great news, said, “She’s a very busy woman, so I doubt she’d waste time pranking Your Lordship.”

When the silence that followed stretched into awkwardness, the maid gasped, “Oh, did you need Riona? She’s having tea with your servants. If you will follow me, your lordship.” Without waiting for a response—or bothering to check if they were following—she marched out of the room, humming a jaunty tune.

The muffled sounds of laughter and animated conversation grew louder and clearer as they neared the guesthouse’s servant hall. Familiar voices drifted out into the hall as Smithwood servants let off steam.

“How long before he tasks one of us with getting his lion slippers groomed?” Ivan, Leo’s valet, said as the servants discussed some of their lord’s more absurd requests.

A footmen snorted. “Wouldn’t surprise me if the lad spent all his time in the woods pretending he was a lion.”

“Do you know how much his lordship spends on his hunting trips? On his mountain trips? Enough to feed a small village. And I ain’t seen a raise in years.” One of the Smithwood maids pointed out.

“A raise? When you still struggle with the simplest tasks? Outlandish! Remember the time my drink had far too many ice cubes?” There was a marked smugness to his tone as Ivan impersonated Leo.

“Noble’s have very delicate constitutions, Edith. An extra sliver of ice could send them into a chill.” Myrtle joked.

“How could I forget the time I attempted assassination by brain freeze, his lordship never fails to remind me. I bet he thinks my name is too much ice.” Edith said.

“No wonder he runs off so often, must be afraid of ya.” Abe joked.

“If I had Leo’s parents I'd be running off every chance I got too.” Myrtle said with a shrug. “I swear their arguments could be heard all through Stravy.” At the very least the carriagewoman had heard the pair from the stables more than a few times.

“Can’t say I miss cleaning up shattered dishes all night once the two o’ them were through.”

“Except now, the whole city hears” Ivan cleared his throat and raised the pitch of his voice. “Who allowed Thea near the liquor? Who let Leo track mud through the pallor? Why must my children test me?” Ivan mimicked the Dutchess while dramatically gesturing around him.

]“Like we got extra time to nanny her grown children!” Abe added, rolling his eyes.

“What’s she expect when she’s raised them thinkin' no’s a foreign word?” Edith shook her head.

“Didn’t seem to win her any favors, they both avoid her like the plague.” Myrtle pointed out.

“That I understand. Not even a year and remarried? Her children are a mess, you’d think she’d care a bit more about that.”

“At least the Duke’s gone.” There was a hushed murmur of agreement.

“Surely the worst of ‘em.” Abe whispered the statement. All heads somberly nodded as they all grew quiet for a moment.

“You think the Dutchess had him-” She didn’t need to finish her sentance.

“Good for her if she did. Probably the best thing she’s ever done. Ya know. If.” And then more silence. No one needed to say more on the subject but it was clear they all agreed on that too.

“You should see the kennels, nicer digs than any of us got. The hounds eat better than most merchants.” Ivan pivoted back to something lighter, regretting bringing up the subject.

“Oh what I wouldn’t give to be turned into one of them hounds. Now that’s a cushy life.”

“Pretty sure Lewis was fired ‘cause one of the hounds didn’t like him. Imagine, taking advice from a creature that licks its own ass.”

“If you cannot earn the trust of my hounds, how can I expect you to earn my trust?” Ivan slipped back into his Leo impersonation with such ease that it was clear how often he practiced it.

“Waiting for the day we all get meat scraps as a reward for a job well done.”

“That would require you to do a job well done and you are all more incompetent than a freshly weaned pup.”

“Joke’s on you, I was called an adequate carriage driver by the lad once.” Myrtle bragged.

“So, Riona, what’s it like working for Royal pricks? Any better than the standard variety?” Abe asked.

TLDR

Leo hates Riona's decorating choices, so with the help of his bodyguards (Martin and Ray) and some Smithwood servants, he has the unwanted furniture hulled off to the slums. As they move what they think is the original furniture back into the room they learn Leo's been moved to a different room, the furniture they moved belongs in storage for refurnishing, and Leo's daily misfortune has left him tipsy. Meanwhile, Riona enjoys a double helping of tea, both beverage and gossip, with Leo's unhappy servants.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: Morning, 10am
Location: Edward’s home, for Drake’s party
Interactions: Nahir @Rodiak, Wulfric @Silverpaw, Farim @Lava Alckon, Anastasia @princess, Stratya @CitrusArms, Olivia @Potter

---

Prince Wulfric did not disappoint, a list of suggestions rolled off the man’s tongue, each one sounding better than the last. Unending pasta! And a pool! Indugles paired with excise to both rekindle the appetite and work off all that pasta! Water slides! Gambling! An athletic area and a stadium! Everything the Prince mentioned packed the summer full of excitement, so much to do, so much to see.

Rohit’s grin widened as Prince Wulfric attempted to warn him off the highly potent cocktails. Guests rolling around in the grass, the birthday boy that had fallen from the stage, the loud insults hurled around by this city's nobles, and is that Farim with a woman in his lap who spoke loudly of a game of strip poker. He took a longer sip of his drink.

“I appreciate the warning, Your Majesty, but I’d hate to miss out on the fun.“ He stood, drink in hand, and bowed gracefully to the pair of royals. “But I will refrain from getting too sloppy, and let a pair of future rulers have their moment.” He took his leave and made his way to Farim’s table, it seemed to be where all the fun was at. Not that he didn’t enjoy speaking with the two very composed royals but a party was a time to let go and have fun.

He pulled a nearby chair over to the packed table. “This appears to be a meeting of beautiful people, and I am left wondering, where my invitation was.” He smiled with easy confidence before taking his seat. “Are all parties here so lively and joyous? Makes me wish I’d visited Sorian sooner. I’m Rohit.” He added.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: 10am
Location: Drake’s Birthday Bash
Interactions: Drake @Lava Alckon
Mentions: Ariella

---

Callum stared at the ball of ice with a mix of confusion and disgust. Before the whiskey was poured he quickly snatched the ice from the glass and held it in his hand. His whiskey, the good stuff at that, was saved from being chilled and eventually, water downed by the unwanted addition that now dripped down his wrist. A wandering thought nearly made him sick, had Darryn melted slowly, like ice in the summer sun, or was it quick? Did he feel it happening?

“Oh um, no thank you. I prefer it neat.” He told the bartender as he awkwardly handed the ball of ice back to the man. Once the ice was disposed of, Cal wiped the cold remnants away on the back of his neck. He turned to look at Drake, trying to focus on his words but finding himself distracted.

He still saw Darryn. Or the illusion of Darryn, looking how Callum couldn’t stop picturing him looking. A beaten bloody mess that barely seemed human. Worse than that day he’d almost been executed, worse than Callum had looked fresh out of that alleyway. Tortured. Someone had probably tortured Darryn. After Alibeth had tortured Darryn. Cal couldn’t stop imagining it and the more he did the worse the illusion began to look. Cold, dead, eyes watched Callum from a head that sat atop melting flesh. Skin and muscle dripping onto the grass.

He looked away, into at his glass but the familiar amber had turned to something vicious and bloody. He couldn’t bring himself to lift the glass to his lips. He looked at Drake instead, realizing he'd been ignoring the man's question.

“Sorry, I found out a friend of mine died today. And I think...no I was, I was a pretty bad friend to him before…” Before someone turned him into a puddle. He didn’t give voice to the rest of his sentence. “Sorry, you asked about my intentions with Ari. I like spending time with her, it’s rare to meet genuinely kind people, without wanting anything from you. The way Ari is.” His eyes left Drake and with ease, he spotted Ari’s fiery hair as she spoke to a nervous-looking older man whose wig seemed to be slipping.

He watched her hold up an empty glass, her skin flushed from the glass’s contents, her laughter echoing freely through the garden. He smiled for a moment, happy to see her happy despite the interaction they’d all had with Victoria a moment ago. At the very least he intended to be a better friend to her than he was to Darryn.

“I know how people talk, and that we were alone in the woods together. Nothing scandalous,” Callum looked back at Drake, eye to eye before adding “I promise you that.” Then he looked down at his glass of whiskey, the illusion still lingering. “She brought me to a spot she found beautiful, peaceful, and I don’t often see that in the world. I just want to know her for who she is and try to see the things she sees. Be someone worth her time.” He closed his eyes and took a sip, savoring the comforting burn even as he wondered if he could be worth anyone’s time.

“How 'buot you Drake? Do you intend to be another person telling her how to spend her time, who to spend it with?” He asked, a genuine question rather than an accusation.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: 10am
Location: Drake’s Birthday Bash
Interactions: Lorenzo @FunnyGuy, Drake @Lava Alckon, Ari @Tpartywithzombi

---

Callum pulled his hand away once it was clear Drake didn’t want the help. Or maybe Drake didn’t want his help. So he turned to Dutchess Victoria,

“A flea? Dutchess, are you sure? Shall I ask for someone to inspect the royal locks?” He asked with a pleasant smile. “Slander against a prince is a crime, so if you think you might be wrong, now’s the time to admit it. I’d hate to make a spectacle of this.” Cal continued, still smiling. He gave Dutchess Cheese Feet some time to think on that, turning his back to her.

“Duke Vikena, please let’s not embarrass the Dutchess by informing everyone of her foul foot odor.” He loudly replied to the Duke who remained at a table several feet away. He hoped echoing the Duke kept that rumor sticking in people’s minds; let the Dutchess skip the hors d'oeuvres and enjoy some just desserts instead.

“Lady Ari,” Callum offered an awkward, drunken, bow. “Lord Drake.” He made the same gesture towards her brother. “I’d love to have a drink with the two of you.”

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: 10am
Location: Drake’s Birthday Bash
Interactions: Charlotte @princess, Lorenzo @FunnyGuy, Cassius @PapaOso, Drake @Lava Alckon

---

Callum made a face of disgust as Cassius referred to him as, Your Highness. “Nonsense, I’m not high, right now.” He joked and noted the discomfort from Charlotte, and denial from Cassius, at his assumption that the two were a couple.

It wasn’t obvious, but Callum had a knack for finding darkness, and there was certainly some of it behind Charlotte’s eyes when he’d mentioned his dislike for both Calbert and Edin. But what was more telling was the long moment where it seemed like Charlotte was somewhere else; her expression changed as her eyes focused on empty spaces. Like she was seeing things that weren’t there too. ...And what spells have you been casting, Charlotte? He wondered, jumping on the explanation that made the most sense to him.

”Princess, huh?” Callum repeated the nickname Cassius had for Charlotte. ”Didn’t realize I had a secret sister out there.” He joked as he watched Charlotte down her drink.

Callum was not going to be outdone. He grabbed a cocktail and lifted it in Cassius' direction, as he was the one to officially make this a challenge, and drank the entire drink in one go. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but there’s a reason there’s a tavern with my name, and face, on it.” He added, slamming the empty glass back on the table as Drake took the stage.

”What a lovely piece, you composed it?” Callum whispered, eyes flickering to Charlotte. ”It’s magical.” He commented as the song ended.

And then Drake fell off the stage.

Callum stood up, stumbling as the cocktail, and that loaf of alcoholic bread, struck him. He held on to the table for a moment then fumbled his way to Drake.

”You alright?” He asked, offering a hand. ”From the guy who's usually falling over at parties, best to just laugh it off.” He added quietly.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: Morning, 10am
Location: Edward’s home, for Drake’s party
Interactions: Nahir @Rodiak, Wulfric @Silverpaw

---

Calbert Damien, constant grumpus, hates the flashy fella in pink, Lord Vikena. He noted, and in so few words Nahir had clued him in that such drama ran rampant in Caesonia. Before he could answer her question, a man whose appearance could only be described as angelic approached. A pristine white suit? At a garden party? Ballsy. Classy. He admired the choice and how it made Wulfric stand out so easily in a garden full of vibrantly dressed nobility.

Rohit rose from his seat the moment Prince Wulfric introduced himself. He bowed respectfully, “Good morning, Your Highness. I’m Rohit, son of Vali Amar of Kimoon.” He sat down once the prince had taken his seat and grabbed a well-crafted cocktail. A future King and the likely future Sultana…picked the right seat to steal!” He thought, remaining relaxed in the impressive company until whoever’s seat he’d borrowed eventually showed up to claim it.

“Much to explore.” Rohit repeated in agreement sipping from his drink. He’d seen only a fraction of the city and already looked forward to seeing more. “As for my journey here,” He paused to think of the many ports he’d stopped at -why go on a grand journey and not make the most of it- and decided to speak of another Caesonian city.

“Felipina.” Rohit said, addressing Nahir. “Best stop of my journey, excluding the destination, of course.” He continued, nodding to Wulfric. “Great food, even better wine, beaches filled with beautiful people, and music and romance fill the air. Casa de las Estrellas, what a way to wind down - stargazing on a private balcony. And I’m told I must return for the Grand Treasure Hunt, how exciting! Shehzadi, I can’t recommend it enough. Never dull never dreary.” Rohit gave his mostly honest review of the city, was it better than Breoven? Maybe not, but he doubted the future King of Caesonia wanted to hear how wonderful Breoven was to visit.

“But despite the high bar set by Felipina, Sorian has already impressed. I arrived just in time to catch the carnival last night, what a wonderful surprise. Anyplace you‘d recommend?” He asked Wulfric just as Drake took the stage.

Drake’s performance was marvelous, a pair of well-played songs that showed the man’s skill off nicely. Until he went to take his bow, “Ooooh, embarrassing, he muttered as Lord Drake fell from the stage.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: Morning, 10am
Location: Edward’s home, for Drake’s party
Interactions: Nahir @Rodiak

---

"How did you know I liked green so much?"

“Lucky guess.” Rohit replied, smiling before bidding the lord adieu. It was an easy guess, written in the man’s stars, but Drake had other guests to speak with and it was not the time for long conversations about the Astral Arcana. He spun the ceramic bracelet around his wrist a few times as he walked and grabbed a couple of the hors d'oeuvres. He quickly grew bored of fiddling with the bracelet and spun his far more satisfying ring around a few times.

He collected a glass of mead from a servant, a bright and refreshing drink that went well with the atmosphere here before noticing Shehzadi Nahir at a table. Rohit headed in her direction and quietly took a seat in a nearby chair for a moment.

“People watching?” He remarked. “Ooof, that guy looks mad.” His head nodded in the direction of Calbert. There was a crash in the distance as a servant tripped and a platter of stuffed mushrooms littered the ground. “And I’m betting that guy’s wishing he was on present stacking duty right about now.” He added with a light chuckle. Rohit bowed his head respectfully to the Shehzadi.

“How’s Caesonia, and more importantly, how are you, Your Highness?” He added.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: 10am
Location: Drake’s Birthday Bash
Interactions: Charlotte @princess, Lorenzo @FunnyGuy, Cassius @PapaOso

---

“Did I hear shots? I know I’m at the right table!” Callum said, taking a seat shortly after Charlotte, as if merely mentioning shots had summoned him. He glanced around but once his eyes settled on Charlotte he stared for a few seconds longer than what was considered polite. He tried to imagine what Ana had described, but nothing about her gave Cal a sense of dread. She really threatened Ana and Edin??? That was even harder to picture, but then again he didn’t know her all that well.

He realized he was staring and shifted his attention to Cassius. “Sorry if the bastard comment was out of line, I didn’t mean it as an insult. I think the name Vael suits you better than Damien, but I’ve never cared much for your father. Or my own.” Cal said before finishing off his glass of wine. His attention shifted back to Charlotte, studying her reaction to how he spoke of the king. Searching for any sign that she might be an ally.

“Yours seems great.” He said to Charlotte before smiling at Lorenzo. “It’s an honor to sit with the best-dressed Duke in Caesonia.” He added nodding to Lorenzo. “Oh, look! Shots are here!” Callum’s attention was immediately drawn to a server carrying a tray of spirits.

“To the two of you,” Cal said standing up and gesturing to Cassius and Charlotte with the shot glass he’d picked up. “A stunning couple. And to Lord Drake, of course.” He added before downing the shot.

From out of the corner of his eye he saw the same ghastly image of Darryn he’d seen back in his room. Red eyes aglow with judgment, watching as Cal celebrated just hours after learning of Darryn’s death. It made that shot sit in his stomach like curdled milk as Cal tried not to focus in on the illusion.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Flashback: Night Sola 23, 1739

Callum & Riona Part 9

---

Riona floated, suspended somewhere between dreaming and awake. Worn cotton sheets felt soft against her skin. Sunlight spilled through the windows, turning the inside of her eyelids a reddish-gold. She breathed in crisp sheets and traces of woodsmoke from the hearth.

A gentle touch pulled her closer to consciousness. Fingers combed through her sleep-mussed hair, then skimmed down to cup her cheek with a tenderness that made her heart ache.

In that drowsy moment, she couldn’t tell who it belonged to. Not until he whispered her name against her temple. “Riona.” Her chest tightened.

As his warmth began to pull away, her hand shot out to catch him. Needing to make this last just a little longer. “D-dan…”

Her eyes fluttered open and the blurry shape in front of her swam into focus. Callum.

“How you feeling?” Cal asked, grabbing Riona’s outstretched hand, figuring she wanted help getting back up. “Just missed our friend’s dramatic exit. He claimed he was here looking for secrets, like us. Oh, and I’m supposed to tell you to ‘remember what the giant said in the alleyway.’ Have you been having clandestine meetings with giants in alleyways?”

His words washed over her, something about a dramatic exit and secrets. None of it made sense. Riona blinked, just laying there awkwardly holding hands with Cal, as she tried to unscramble, scrambled thoughts. Dan was here, wasn’t he? No, he’s gone. Has been for a long time. A flash of red hair, violence—

Clarity slammed into her like a fist. Her gaze snapped to Cal, zeroing in on the dark stain across his side. “Sh*t, you’re bleeding!”

She tried to scramble up, only for pain to shoot up her feet. Glancing down, Riona saw her shoes had been reduced to blackened husks. What in the hells? She shook it off. There were more pressing matters.

With Cal’s help, she stood up. “We need to get you to a physicker. Now.” Fingers fumbling, she yanked at her apron. It wasn't much, but it would have to do to stem the bleeding. “Hold still,” she ordered, her voice steadier than she felt as she pressed the makeshift bandage against his side.

“I was bleeding, got a healing potion. And so did you. From the window man.” Callum explained slowly. He gently pushed the apron away and lifted his shirt to show the healed-up stab wound. “See, all better. No royal physician, I don’t even know how I’d explain this one. What happened to your shoes?” He asked.

Riona’s jaw dropped as Cal lifted his shirt. Where she expected to see a gaping mess, there was smooth skin. She leaned in closer, her eyes squinted in disbelief. Hesitantly, she reached out to brush her fingers over the spot. Warm. Whole. Not even a hint of a scar. If it weren’t for the blood, she’d have sworn she’d dreamed up the whole attack.

It looked... completely healed. That was... amazing. Despite their best efforts, Riona and Cal never managed to create healing potions or salves this potent or fast-acting. A mixture of awe and skepticism swirled in her mind.

“Does it hurt anywhere?” she asked, just in case. Something stank about this. No way their would-be assassin gave them such a valuable potion without a catch.

When Cal mentioned her shoes, Riona’s eyes dropped to her feet. “Funny, I was hoping you could tell me,” she replied. She carefully removed what remained of her footwear, wincing slightly. Parts of the charred remnants crumbled in her hands, still radiating a peculiar, unsettling warmth.

As she examined the damage, Riona realized, with a grimace, the cause of her pain—tiny bits of the material had worked their way into her skin when she put weight on her feet. Lovely.

She turned her attention back to Cal, she asked, “You didn’t start a bonfire while I wasn’t looking, right?”

“Only the illusion kind, but that wouldn’t have included you? Weird.” He tried to remember if anything the intruder had done could’ve caused this. “Mr. Window Lurker did something, you saw the…thing with all faces right? The thing that kept screaming? Maybe it was when he summoned that?” He asked, he’d have to ask if he ever ran into the scroll thief again.

“Faces?” Riona echoed, brow furrowed. “Cal, it was just us and that creepy window guy…” She paused to think about it, “But if he had magical healing potions, maybe he used illusionary magic too?”

“Yeah, I figured, I guess…” He trailed off, wishing he hadn’t been the only one who’d seen the creature but not wanting to sound afraid of an illusion either. “He must’ve melted your shoes too.” Cal added.

“Anyway, it still feels like I’ve been in a fight, but nothing hurts as much as it did before the potion. Except my head but that could be my fault. How about you?” He asked, the shoe thing was weird, not the weirdest thing that had just happened, but still. “Did you catch what I said about the giant?” He added.

“Aside from this,” Riona held up her shoes and wiggled her foot, “same. We might want to use our stash of healing stuff before we go to bed, just to be sure.”

Her gaze swept the room, taking in the aftermath of the brawl. Nothing looked broken beyond repair, but it was pretty damn obvious there’d been a fight. They couldn’t just leave the room like this.

Cal’s question pulled her back. “Uh, giant? Um…” The words trickled back: ‘Remember what the giant said in the alleyway.’ And with them, another memory surfaced. Karleen. The hulking figure. ‘My master wants to meet you.’

“Right, the alley, got it.” Riona said. Was Mr. Window Lurker working with Karleen? Even though Karleen denied it, Riona thought Karleen was one of Sh*tlord’s servants. But… if he was his ‘master,’ why the need for a reminder? Didn’t she meet him on a daily basis now?

Mulling it over, Riona started straightening the room. “Did Window Lurker say anything else? Because honestly all I remember the giant saying is ‘meet my master’ and that master being Varian.” She asked, shoving a chair back into place. “Oh, and can you check for blood? You can use my apron to wipe it up.”

Callum grabbed the apron and worked on wiping away any traces of his blood. “He said; If you’re not full of shit, tell Riona; remember what the giant said in the alley, she does that and she gets your scroll back. Play nice and the sword might find its way home too.” Cal said, repeating the words and using an accent best described as ‘generic dumb henchman’ as he spoke.

“Of course, if you got a bad vibe from him or the giant, ignore the message. And I guess I should mention he did offer to trade the scroll for you, which, not a point for him being trustworthy.” He added, readjusting some of Wystan’s furniture until the room looked the way it should.

That was when Riona finally noticed that the sword was missing. The only key they had to that room. Taken. Fan-freaking-tastic. “Well,” She quirked a wry smile at Cal, “good to know I’m worth more than a priceless magical scroll.”

Turning to the secret entrance hidden behind the wall, she said. “If we want back in there, we’ll need to get the sword back or find another way in, somehow.” But maybe, a little voice whispered, staying out of that creepy cursed treasure trove was the smarter move.

Wait. Riona patted herself down, alarm spiking. Dagger, gloves, journal—where...? She paced the room, checking behind and beneath furniture. The gloves and journal turned up, but she couldn’t find her dagger. “My dagger’s gone,” she announced, and she had a pretty good idea who took it. “That guy didn’t take the compass from you did he?”

“Nope still safe.” Callum patted the pocket the compass rested in. “So how tall was the giant?” He added, gesturing to the door. Time to leave before they caught, they were already pressing their luck.

Riona swept her eyes over the room one final time before nodding to Cal, signaling that she was ready to go. “Lord Roman’s height give or take. Maybe a little more. Pretty beefy looking too… So yeah, intimidating, but… Didn’t give off that ‘I eat kittens for breakfast’ vibe, you know?”

Trust wasn’t on the menu for Karleen or the stranger, but the fact remained: either could’ve killed them and they chose not to (in the end). Which meant they—their master—really wanted something from her and/or Callum. The question was what, and if they could use that to their advantage. “I’ll try to get the scroll and sword back.” Riona eased the door open a crack, peering into the hallway. Empty. For now.

“Try not to get eaten by the tall but not-really-giant-tall-guy over it.” He reiterated, sounding disappointed that giant didn’t mean as tall as a house in this instance. Callum retraced his steps back through the hallway and back to the portrait, retrieving the burnt matchstick he’d left behind. “Need anything before you head back to the hut?” He asked Riona.

Glancing at her bare feet, she answered, “Shoes.”

“I’ve got plenty of shoes if you want a pair.” Cal offered.

Riona snorted as Lordling Smithwood came to mind. “Guess the shoe’s on the other foot now.”

TLDR

Riona briefly sees a ghost from her past before regaining consciousness. Callum and Riona discuss what happened, including the message from the intruder; to remember what the giant told Riona in the alleyway, while they clean up Wystan’s room and leave.