[48]

I had given Joy an entire week to find where Florence lived, and to our frustration, she could not locate the girl’s house. Left feeling perturbed, I began searching on my own, using skills that were more in line with my upbringing. The library was the first place I hit, researching for mention of the Claybrook line. Thankfully, it only took a day and a half of skimming records before I located the associated genealogy. My skill with literacy continued to be a boon in most aspects of my life.

Elaine had told me once before that Florence's family was new nobility, having come into their peerage because of the heroic actions of Florence’s grandfather in the Ruinlands. Angelina’s father granted them the lands which they managed, and as I understood such things, they were neither large nor profitable. The records in the library reflected this, showing a quick line of succession three generations long and weak yearly tax yields. Why Ashmere kept records of Kingdom historical information was a question I found interesting. Unfortunately, I did not have the time or authority to get an answer from the guides in the tower.

Raxx and I headed toward the local charters’ office in the busy administration center of town. It was an old, musty smelling building with faded carpet, probably built centuries before when the town was new.

An old, pudgy Umbrakin man sat behind a counter. Umbrakin were an uncommon race, having once lived underground before being displaced by Gozmyr during the Godswar, that I had rarely had the occasion to see. I had never seen an older one before, though. His dark black skin had faded to a light black with age. Baldness had left him only a few strands of white hair around the crown of his head. Where once two proud tusks jutted from his lower jaw, like all his race were famous for, cracked teeth yellow with age barely peeked over his bottom lip. Bureaucracy transcends all races, and I recognized him for the cog he was by his annoyed glare.

“We are here for the records,” I said officially, dressed in my best and only fitting commoner outfit.

“Who are ya? No one told me you were coming,” the old man said in a gravelly voice.

Raxx walked in behind me, baring his fangs. I was pleased to see the man recoil at that.

“I am the acquisition agent for Warmaster Raxx.” I bowed, holding a hand to the side to indicate the Sea Dog. “We were told you would have the land charter for the Claybrook estate ready for us to examine.”

“Who told ya that!?” The Umbrakin looked miffed, going so far as to close the book he had been reading.

“Gamel Claybrook man! Who else? We are interested in buying the properties and need to ensure that the dimensions line up to what we’ve been told. We were told they already paid the fee!” I retorted.

Florence’s grandfather died in the Ruinlands soon after becoming nobility, meaning any property owned in Ashmere would have to be owned by her father Gamel. It was possible that he transferred the property to her name, but I did not think that likely.

Raxx, picking up on my theatrics, began growling. It was a sound I had never heard him make, and if I am being honest was quite terrifying.

“All right! Hold your fangs.” The bureaucrat said, ambling from his stool. A few minutes later, he muttered “Claybrook, Gamel” to himself, shuffling through rolls of yellow paper.

About ten minutes later, the old man came back with a white paper, unrolling it on the table in front of us. By its coloration, it was obvious that the charter was new, and likely a recent purchase.

I spotted the address on the top corner of the charter, finally answering the question about where she lived. Strangely, it was on the outskirts of town near a patch of forest, away from the noble’s district. Her closest neighbor was a cattle farmer. I could tell by the property notations next to the fence on the blueprint.

After a few minutes of pretending to pour over the charter, I shook my head sadly at Raxx. “This will not be suitable, Warmaster,” I said, just loud enough for the clerk to hear us.

Raxx grunted, then spun on his feet, leaving in a huff. I tossed a copper coin to the sputtering old man, then ran out after him.

...

Arcanolamps glowed ghostly blue along the distant streets, creating an area of light in the surrounding perimeter of the property.

The Claybrooks owned a small house on humble property. Florence’s wooden yellow one-story house near the edge of town was quaint for a noble. Notably, when compared to the sprawling villas, I visited just the week before for Start-year parties.

Florence herself had entered the home about an hour prior during the last fading dregs of daylight, while Raxx and I waited hidden in the tree line nearby. We were fortunate that we finished searching for wards around the house just before she made it home. The two of us used Detect Magic to expedite the process but came up empty. Ugz was halfway down her chimney when she suddenly showed up, noisily slamming the door behind her, and cursing like a sailor to herself—as far as we could tell no one lived in the dark house except her. I feared her spotting my familiar and ordered him to just eavesdrop from the comfort of the chimney. It was not likely she would catch him or endanger him by lighting a fire in spring.

Our plan was to wait until she fell asleep, then continue to snoop around the place with Ugz. The moon made its way into the sky. Bugs came out to attack us, and critters ran about in the forest behind us, but still Florence did not sleep. She paced from room to room, ate some food, took a shit, and mumbled angrily to herself for hours on end.

Raxx, who could sense none of this, focused on watching our backs with his exceptional faculties. It was uncomfortable spying on someone like I was, but eventually I had to lean over and explain to the Harak that Florence was quite insane.

Even at my absolute worst, as I lay crying, praying, and begging to the gods for sufferance or revenge, I had never behaved like Florence. I listened as carefully as Ugz’s ability to hear sound would allow, but her words made no sense. It sounded like an endless tirade of curses and hissing, with the occasional name thrown in for good measure. More than a few times, I suspected her of pranking me, somehow aware that I watched her. Florence’s rage was too visceral for it to be faked, though.

The world was cruel; I knew that better than most. Yet, I had a hard time believing that a lovely young noble like Florence Claybrook had suffered a worse life than I had. But as the hysteria wore on, it was the only conclusion I could accept.

Tired and wary, I looked over to Raxx to suggest we go home. Nothing good would come of listening to a crazy lady. Besides, we did not know when she might finally tire herself out. I needed time to process what I had learned about a nutty ascendent. At least now we would understand her paranoia.

Just as I opened my mouth to speak, Raxx placed a paw on my shoulder to stop me. Casually, he pointed in the distance toward a group of three martial studies students headed down the dirt path that led to Florence’s house. Florence, I noted, stopped pacing too, stomping over to the window to look toward the three students she should not have heard coming.

They marched forward with serious looks on their faces, glancing around like they expected an ambush. One of them looked in our direction, sending a shiver down my spine. I was sure he spotted us, but a second later he turned his head. The brief look on his face was enough for me to recognize him. It was Nicolai, my wrestling partner in combat training. The other two were both darker skinned Jalmese boys as well.

I looked at Raxx to make sure he saw what I did, and he nodded.

Two of the three students spread out, one heading toward the back of Florence’s house. The other headed back up the road to lean on a tree, serving as a lookout. Nicolai strode up to the door and began banging on it.

A different person than the ranting lunatic from a few minutes ago opened the door.

“What in the abyss are you doing here?” Florence demanded, swinging open the door.

“We need to talk,” Nicolai demanded.

I could not see her face well from the trees, but I could tell that she was furious.

Florence ushered Nicolai in, slamming the door behind him.

“You are a fool showing up at my house!” Florence shouted. “How did you find out where I lived?”

Nicolai snorted. I could easily picture the usual friendly smile he had on his face. “Doesn’t matter,” he said.

“Tell me. Now.” Florence said in a voice that made me cold. The severe change in her personality was terrifying.

A tense silence settled between the two. It lasted so long, I wondered if they magically shielded the conversation when Nicolai finally answered.

“A tracer wand,” he admitted.

“From what? My hair?” Florence said, anger building in her voice.

“Yes,” Nicolai confirmed.

“Why are you here?” Florence said after a moment.

“The Highrow bitch. She’s disappeared! I want to know where she is! Why else would I be here?” Nicolai said, equally heatedly.

“Why don’t you use your tracer wand, you buffoon!” Florence cackled.

Nicolai spit on her floorboards, not answering.

“Couldn’t get her hair?” Florence taunted.

“She has some kind of protection against scrying,” Nicolai admitted.

“Oh well, sad for you. I don’t know where she is.” Florence said, dropping into a chair.

“I don’t believe you,” Nicolai said. “In fact, I am thinking you tried to set me up.”

“Then you are even more stupid than I gave you credit for,” Florence laughed loudly.

Nicolai kicked over a table, and I heard a dagger coming out of its sheath.

“You said she would be easy to kill! She fought like a fully trained RRS officer. And you said nothing about Horste being there!” Nicolai hissed.

Realization hit me like a bolt to the chest. Nicolai was the assassin that night at the dining hall. What the hell was going on?

“What I said was that it would be easy for you to set up an ambush. I gave you a time and place where she would be distracted with few people around. I even went through the trouble of stalling her, so she might be alone. It isn’t my fault you didn’t prepare. Did you really think the Executioner of Melkert’s daughter would be untrained? Who aims your cock for you when you piss?” Florence said. I could hear the mirth in her voice.

“You did not say she knew her father was RRS! You did not say she was RRS! You will find her for us again. If you don’t, you will not see me coming next time.” Nicolai snarled.

“Here’s a thought. Have you tried asking her boyfriend Harald?” Florence asked, unbothered by the threat on her life. “If anyone might know, it would be her betrothed.”

You crazy witch! I thought, shocked at her nerve.

“Harald isn’t a bruise,” Nicolai said. “The Vargyr Raas does not kill innocent civilians, as you well know. Besides, no one has seen him with her since the party. Two days, no more. I’m coming back in two days, and you better have an answer, or you will see what happens to a bruise that crosses us.”

Before waiting for an answer, Nicolai turned on his heel and left.

Raxx watched the three of them leave her house, whispering quietly to one another.

But I saw none of that. I glued my eyes to the window, where Florence looked at the retreating men. A wide smile full of too many teeth was all I could make out in the soft lamplight of her living room.

Less than a minute later, Florence’s door opened again. This time, by itself, while she still stood quietly at the window, watching. Waiting.

Nothing came out, but the door shut itself closed.

Florence did not speak to herself again.