Augustus stayed awake through the night. They all stayed around the hearth, taking turns placing logs on the fire. He watched as his servants and wife would close their eyes, sitting lazily in their seats, until their heads would nod off to one side, jerking them back to wakefulness.

Augustus could feel the dark around him, a creeping feeling that came back to him from long ago. The feeling he felt those nights he lay in bed, awake, wondering if his brother would sneak into his room that night. He imagined his servant, nay his friend, dead and bloodied in the street. He had been angry with Heratio before he left, but now he was only angry at himself. It was his decision, he should have anticipated mistakes. This was his fault. No one else was to blame. He quelled his fears, reminding himself that an attack on his manor now would be too bold. His attack used the element of surprise, now the Castellian estate and all their guards were on high alert, with new men brought in temporarily for extra support. An attack now had too great a risk of one or two men being captured, and with Giovannus’ powerbase quickly eroding, that would destroy his authority in the family.

However, an attack on Heratio, in the city, in the dark, was a real possibility. He had to believe in Heratio’s skill and ability. He had been in many battles and had a good head for judging danger. He would be fine, Augustus assured himself.

It felt as if it took forever for the light of day to break. Outside the window, he saw the sky turn a lighter shade of dark and at that moment breathed a sigh of relief, for at least they in the room were safe.

“Marielle, Cressa, Sara, and Bindle, you may all sleep now. I thank you for indulging my worries, even though they were unfounded.”

They all left for their respective beds. Augustus went to bathe, washing away the smoky smell that stuck to his skin, then he dressed in fine clothing. If Heratio didn’t return, he had no choice but to continue with his plan, he would meet up with the Sentellius contact with Quintus today.

It was well into the morning when Heratio finally made it back to the estate. He walked through the front door with a stern look on his face.

“Were you attacked?” Asked Augustus. He made sure to hide his concern from his face. “Have you been injured?”

“I was not attacked. But I couldn’t accomplish the task you set. The men I worked with remain in Venocia.”

“It doesn’t matter now. You don’t seem as tired as Gillivan.”

“After I failed, it was too late to risk walking the streets, so I stayed at an inn.”

“That’s good. I’m happy you got some rest. That means Gillivan can go to sleep now as you accompany me. We need to leave soon to meet with Quintus and his Sentellius contact.”

After a bit of time, the carriage arrived. Quintus and his guard were aboard. They welcomed Augustus and Heratio into the carriage and were off to the Sentellius Estate.

“There is something I should tell you about the man we are about to meet,” said Quintus.

“What is it?”

“He has suffered a curse.”

“What sort of curse?” Asked Augustus, intrigued.

“Before, he used to be the head of the Sentellius family. Then, when he became afflicted, they removed him saying he was incapable. It’s hard to explain the curse, but you will make clear notice of it when you meet him. You might even think he is incapable. Have my assurance though, that although he has some quirks, he can be a powerful ally and he can still command influence within the Sentellius house.”

“Do not worry, I am not so pious as to shun anybody with a hint of a curse upon them. Otherwise I would not have spent as much time as I had at uncle Pascal’s home.”

“Yes, I just felt I needed to warn you.”

The guardhouse of the Sentellius estate opened their gates. As expected, they were awaiting Augustus’ arrival. The carriage was guided by two guards who led the horses to the proper building.

Quintus approached the front door and knocked, using the metal door knocker. Three loud clangs rang out. Augustus peered over his shoulder to see the guards waiting behind them. Maybe the current head of the Sentellius family was curious about what the former head was up to. Or they just had better security measures than was standard with the Castellians. When the door opened and they were let inside, the Sentellius guards remained on watch outside. They followed a house servant through a hallway and into an empty receiving room. The walls were covered in elegant portraits, painted with an artisan’s skill. There were comfy chairs placed in an almost complete circle and in the center of that circle was a place to play stixis. It was a room without windows, unusual for a receiving room. The fireplace was lit, providing the light for the room.

“Augustus, you may sit down,” said Quintus, gesturing to one of the comfy chairs.

Augustus did as told. He sat and observed the portraits of dignified persons, not knowing at all who they were. He assumed some dead members of the Sentellius family.

“Voltaire, we have arrived, I have brought Augustus,” said Quintus loudly. He said it to the room, to the entire estate.

“I’ll be there soon!” A shout came from a different room. Then a banging sound, as if someone was hitting a piece of wood.

The backdoor to the room opened and showed a strange sight. Four male servants carried Voltaire, still sitting in his chair lazily, into the room and placed him down in the gap that had been left in the circle of chairs. Voltaire held a cane that he swung around violently.

"Go, go!" Voltaire said with a slur. He looked at Quintus in the center of the room with curiosity. "Now, who is this?"

The attendants backed themselves away, to stand in waiting next to the walls of the room.

"I am Quintus DeCastellian, of the Cast—"

"Yes, of the Castellians… blah! I know you. Who is this?" Voltaire asked from half his face.

"I present Augustus DeCastellian, third son of Giovanni DeCastellian. Augustus, this Voltaire DeSentellius, the former head of the Sentellius family."

He was an old man, old enough to have been Augustus’ grandfather. His legs hardly moved, and his face was distorted. At first, Augustus thought he sat lazily in his chair, but now he saw him as sitting uncomfortably and simply unable to easily reposition himself.

"Greetings, it is an honour to finally meet you," said Augustus, lowering his head for a moment in respect.

Voltaire just stared at Augustus quietly rather than give his greeting.

Quintus began speaking first, to break the awkward silence. "Augustus requested this meeting with you. I sent a letter informing you and your house I would be bringing him."

"Yes, now I remember. Augustus… Augustus." Voltaire, still, just stared at him.

Augustus cleared his throat and began his proposal. "I have come here with a proposal. I seek your investment."

“Valeria!” Shouted Voltaire. “Come here, Valeria, I want you to meet someone! Just a moment, she’ll be here soon.”

Quintus looked at Augustus, giving him a knowing look. A look that seemed to acknowledge the strangeness of the meeting so far. At least he tried to warn him, thought Augustus.

“Valeria! Are you coming or not!” Voltaire slammed his cane against the floor, causing several loud knocking sounds.

They heard a flurry of footsteps until finally a woman entered the room, a young woman of brown hair and fair skin.

“This is my granddaughter, Valeria DeSentellius,” said Voltaire.

“... I am Augustus DeCastellian, and this is my cousin, Quintus DeCastellian. It is an honour to meet you.”

“We have already met, Augustus,” said Valeria.

Voltaire smiled a strange half smile. “Yes, yes. You two have met, haven’t you? The stixis player right? I’ve met him too, I think.”

“Did you know my father?” It dawned on Augustus that his father had probably invited Voltaire at some point over to their home, then trying to impress him, might have shown him Augustus face his brother at stixis. That would have only been impressive though if Voltaire was a player.

Voltaire scratched his head. “Giovanni–I had some dealings with him. I thought I had met you, but I wasn’t sure.”

“Valeria, I apologize for forgetting our encounter. Since you seem to remember it, could you remind me when we met?”

“My grandfather brought me one day to your father’s estate to play you in a game of stixis. You won.”

Quintus cleared his throat, “This is all quite interesting, and a wonderful reunion, to be sure, but maybe we should regain some focus.”

Voltaire smacked his cane against a chair that was within his reach. “Sit down, Valeria. Sit down.” Once Valeria had taken her seat, he looked at Augustus and said, “Speak then.”

“As I was saying earlier, I have come here with a proposal, seeking your investment. It could be thought of as an investment, or it could be thought of as a loan but either way, I bring you an opportunity to profit.”