Fin awoke with a faint pulsing headache, and an unpleasantly nauseous stomach that immediately had him wary of any food or coffee. Slowly he opened his eyes, his mind sluggish and a little hazy.

Reaching out to his side, he tried to grasp Annika’s hand to give it a small squeeze, only to find her side of the bed was in fact empty.

Sitting up swiftly, and nearly vomiting as a result, Fin found himself staring at Annika who stood at the foot of the bed, her one hand holding a goblet, her other arm wrapped around her middle with her hand gently resting in the crook of her elbow.

“Good morning Finlay.”

At the use of his full first name, his stomach grew even more uneasy.

“Morning… erm… have I slept long?”

“Oh it is just about midday, how’re you feeling?” Her tone was light, and her expression unreadable. At the rate his stress was rising, Fin would not have been surprised if he vomited imminently.

“Not the greatest…” He eyed her hesitantly as he adjusted his position in the bed.

“It’s interesting, you see, I’m not perfectly clear on what drug you were given last evening. Tell me, do you remember anything?” She casually stepped over to his bedside and handed him the goblet that was filled with water.

Taking a grateful sip from the silver cup, Fin’s mind began to stretch itself.

He remembered walking into the house belonging to Madame Mathilda, and talking to the young girl named Chastity- or Chloe…

Then there were odd flashes and scenes, but some of them felt more dreamlike…

“Erm… was I speaking to a crowd at one point?” He frowned while trying to figure out the jumble of images.

“Oh, at one point you were quite the entertainment of the house. You gave public counseling to some of the patrons of Madame Mathilda’s, trying to help them better their marriages and all.”

Fin knew he shouldn’t have, but he chuckled a little.

“That sounds… amusing.”

“Oh, I’m glad it does. Did you enjoy making Royal Mage Lee panic?”

“That part wasn’t a dream?!” Fin’s alarm smothered all joviality.

“Oh no. You owe that man a great debt. From what I’m given to understand, he saved you from getting your legs broken by sticking by your side and trying to calm down Elizabeth Nonata for more than an hour.”

Fin immediately began scanning the room for something to be sick in. Sensing this inevitability, Annika bent down and handed him the empty chamber pot from under the bed.

Once he was finished relieving his stomach, he reached for the goblet and took another deep drink to wash away the acidity left in his mouth.

“The part where I saw Knights come to rescue me, was that…”

“Men under the command of the Jenoure house.”

Fin paled again, but thankfully stopped himself from being sick again.

“I am unbelievably sorry for making you have to send… oh Gods. Who saw them?” He looked into her calm brown eyes, his panic etched in every line of his face.

“No one saw you leave with them thanks to an inconspicuous back stairwell.”

Rubbing his face wearily, more and more fragments of his memory began to come back, though he almost wished they hadn’t.

“How angry with me are you?”

“I feel very little pity for your current state.” She answered shortly. “How could you be so dense as to accept a free drink from a business that had been hostile to you?!” Her volume began to rise and Fin visibly winced.

“I haven’t had any problem before with-”

“Why in the world did you not investigate what kind of woman Madame Mathilda is before insisting on seeing her?” Annika demanded next, the fire in her dark eyes burning hotter.

“No one that told me about her mentioned that she was-”

“-One of the major underworld leaders?”

“...Exactly.”

Annika dropped her forehead to her hand and began rubbing it in soothing motions.

“Fin, I know you are not a foolish man. You understand people relatively well, but you are naive to the world. I blame your powers. You haven’t needed to rely on wit to survive in a long time. If ever,” she muttered to herself defeated.

“I… admit there is much I don’t know, but I did learn things that will help me.”

“At a greater cost than the information is worth!” Annika snapped desperately. “Fin, please, please tell me what exactly the King asked you to do.”

At that his spine went rigid.

“Will you share with me your plan pertaining to our relationship? The war?” He asked cautiously.

“The plan for us I concede that you should know, but there are political matters I cannot discuss or it’d be treasonous.”

“Aren’t I in the same situation then?” The redhead countered defensively.

“Fin, you’re being reckless and I’m genuinely worried!” Annika exploded, her expression becoming openly vulnerable. The witch became taken aback by this new show of emotion.

“I knew I’d most likely start a brawl in the pub I went to. I wanted to find information from the people once they deemed me acceptable. Or better yet, to try and needle out information from the owner. Then next thing I knew I’d created a festival, but it was that or the brawl would’ve spilled out into the street,” he explained quietly, while reaching out and gently grasping Annika’s hand.

She shook free of his hold.

Turning around she pressed the heel of her palms into her eyes.

“Godsdamnit Fin… what’re you doing to me?” Her voice was quiet, but steady, and the redhead felt his heartbeat triple it’s speed. “Before you, I’d write you off and or have you shipped off for causing so many complications to my plans. I wouldn’t give a second thought to my methods, or have… feelings!” The last word of her rant dripped with despair and disgust.

“Why is it bad that you’re feeling things?” Fin’s quiet voice made Annika turn back around, the stress on her face bordering on pain.

“I’ve survived this long because I can be distant. Assessing and making logical decisions is important, because a second guess? A hesitation? I will not be effective in my job. I will not survive. Hank made me… made me promise that if I ever fell in love to… to never… GODSDAMNIT!” Annika Jenoure was in tears, and Fin was holding her the second he saw them.

Unbeknownst to the embracing couple, outside the chamber door was a crowd of servants. However, only one of them had her ear pressed to the keyhole of the door. Clara leaned away and whispered to the group that had gathered.

“Oh, she loves him alright.”

The cluster of servants broke out in silent smiles and excited jumps. Clara shared in their joy, but there was a small frown creasing her normally flawless complexion.

“What is it?” Raymond asked while matching the maid’s hushed tones.

“These two need a lot of help,” she admitted, the trace of worry in her voice making the excitement die back down. “Get back to your duties, I think she’ll take a little while to settle down from the sounds of it.”

“Gods, did she even cry for Hank’s death?” One of the newer maids whispered to Raymond as the group began to step away from the chamber door and scatter back to their positions.

“I think once, but I can’t say for sure. The old man never wanted her to,” he replied gruffly as they moved further away from their mistress’ bedroom door.

“I haven’t really met this Mr.Wit fellow… what do you think of him?” The newer maid asked with a conspiratorial note in her voice.

“What I think,” Clara’s cool voice cut into the conversation, making both servants jump and turn quickly while both curtsying and bowing. “-is that we are in for quite a bit of fun. Honestly, you should have seen our Lady yesterday in the brothel...”

***

*Annika’s evening after her confrontation with a certain redhead during the festival…*

Storming away from Fin and the men who believed her to be his sister, Annika made her way back into the shadowed alley where Clara lurked waiting.

The maid only had to watch the hurried pace of her mistress to know that something was wrong. Not wanting to jump to conclusions however, she waited. Handing the noble her cloak, Annika huffed and set off further down the alley where she would eventually exit on the next street over.

“So… I take it Mr. Ashowan is fine?” Clara asked when she had caught up with Annika’s breakneck pace.

“Oh, the giant idiot is doing great! Throwing a festival event for the hell of it and chasing prostitutes!” she uttered scathingly.

Clara halted and blinked startled at the Viscountess. “You mean to tell me that he has already strayed?”

“What do you mean ‘already’?” Annika turned on her maid, a crazed glint in her startlingly calm face.

“I meant that it seems you two are having troubles quite early on…” Clara arched a thin eyebrow. “My Lady, might I be so bold as to… inquire what exactly happened?”

“There’s no time. I have to make sure he doesn’t get himself beaten to death.” Annika grumbled with the subtlest note of hysteria.

Knowing the Royal Cook’s propensity to land himself in trouble, Clara didn’t need to question her mistress’ urgency.

The women made their way to the waiting carriage that had parked further up the street that ran parallel to the festival, once inside, the two changed their clothes swiftly. Annika covered her hair with a cap and dressed as an errand boy to a mid-level merchant, while Clara changed into a low cut pink dress, and let her long dirty blonde hair fall from its usual tight bun.

“Which whore houses are in this area?”

“Hmm… there are three that I know of. There is Madame Tulaney, Mister Danier, and of course…”

“Godsdamnit. Madame Mathilda.” Annika threw the carriage door open with significant force.

“You think that’s the one he went to?”

“Tell me Clara, where would someone go to get in the most trouble imaginable of those three options?”

The maid didn’t reply, but instead hiked up her skirts and followed her mistress who had already taken off at a sprint.

*

Upon entering the crowded house belonging to the one and only Madame Mathilda, Annika scanned the room hastily for the signature fiery red hair she had come to know intimately. After several moments, she realized she couldn’t find him, which was odd given his unnatural height…

Thinking quickly and moving through the crowd, Annika realized one of three things could make him hard to see. Either he was on his back with one of the paid women, in the office with the Madame herself, or he was sitting down. The last option was preferable.

Pushing herself closer to the bar, Annika did her best to keep her face turned towards the ground so that none of the nearby patrons might recognize her. She had finally managed to wedge herself beside the oaken surface, when she spotted the witch sitting on the opposite end.

Letting out a small sigh of relief, she watched the way his sharp blue eyes surveyed the room. He was doing the smart thing and watching the guards of which there were…

Supposed to be four.

One for each corner of the room.

Annika risked turning her gaze up enough to try and find the missing guard.

It took a moment but she finally found the paid muscle, on the second floor balcony locking eyes with the bartender and giving his head a nod, then holding up a single finger. Fin’s back was to that part of the balcony, and so he missed the exchange.

Annika’s heart skipped a beat as she then watched the bartender reach beneath the counter, pull out a strange vile, and pour its contents into what looked like a glass of milk...

Annika’s mind immediately shifted through the poisons she knew of.

She needed to warn Fin, or find a way to administer an antidote as quickly as possible. Then again, he wasn’t completely unaware of how dark the world could be. Surely he wouldn’t…

The Viscountess watched in dismay as Fin’s failed to spare the bartender a second glance as he was handed the beverage. He drank it was given without even looking at it, and Annika felt her heart stop. She immediately began pushing her way through the crowd around the bar when she noticed the missing fourth guard appear back in front of Fin. He had moved exceptionally fast given that moments prior he had been on the upper blacony. Perhaps there was a back stairwell...

Where the crowd had moved to quickly get out of the bald guard’s way, they would not for her, and so Annika found herself being pressed further and further away as Fin was pulled along with a… strangely peaceful smile on his face.

Confused, Annika doubled her efforts, but the guard and witch were already on the second floor.

Fin suddenly stopped and stared out over the sea of people as though marvelling at a beautiful sunrise. For a brief hopeful moment, Annika thought he might be able to see her and she could signal him. Instead, the guard retrieved him, and began pulling him along. Annika finally broke free of the crowd, and had one foot on the stairs when she saw something she couldn’t believe.

‘Mage Lee?!’ She stopped in her tracks.

Her heart racing, she saw Fin speak to Lee briefly, then once again be tugged away. The elder stared after the redhead openly dumbfounded without moving to follow the man, and Annika nearly screamed in frustration, when mage Lee’s wife exited the room.

Unable to properly process what she was seeing, Annika froze on the stairs. Three women left the room, and headed to the stairs- exactly where the Viscountess stood.

Turning to the railing and pretending to be searching the crowd, she could hear the giggles and feel the brush of chiffon brush behind her as the prostitutes joined the throng of patrons below. Once the women had successfully passed, Annika mounted another step, only to see Mrs. Lee heading straight towards her while mage Lee… followed in the direction Fin had been taken.

Annika let out an audible sigh and turned to the railing so that Mrs. Lee would pass without recognizing her. Once she was certain that no one else was behind her, she collapsed onto the step, her shoulders slumped.

‘Gods… what in the world did he get himself into?”

Steeling herself, the Viscountess stood back up, and headed straight to the bar. She trusted mage Lee would take care of Fin- even if the two of them usually battled like cats and dogs, there seemed to be an understanding there.

Now, she just needed to find out exactly what the witch had been dosed with, and to find out who he was being hauled off to meet with.

The moment her foot touched back onto the first floor, Clara was at Annika’s side.

“You distract the bartender, I’ll get behind the bar and steal a bit of the powder.” The Viscountess informed her maid quietly as they began to move in unison.

The two had been in similar situations during the years they had been together, and so they worked together with the utmost efficiency and understanding. Neither of them needed explicit communication to know what needed to be done. The only wild card in their usually flawless operation being the one and only Finlay Ashowan, the one they were trying to save.