Once again, Yeijiro was surrounded by luxury, but this time it wasn’t Tōru providing the experience, but Corinne. Which was strange in a different way.

She’d gotten him the room—the suite—offhandedly asking for the best they had at this secluded, quiet, spa. He’d tried to argue against the suite that was costing half his monthly salary every night, but she’d insisted he’d deserved to be comfortable. As if any room in this place wasn’t going to be nicer than any travel accommodation he’d ever stayed in.

Waiting for him in the rooms had been a bottle of champagne, which he hadn’t touched, and some very nice chocolates, which he had. There was a private hot tub on the secluded balcony, a sauna in the bathroom, a soaking tub large enough to swim in, and a shower with so many heads it would feel like soaking.

The living room had soft couches and soft lights and its own private garden in the center.

Yeijiro felt a little bad that he wasn’t taking advantage of any of these luxuries. He had ordered room service—some of the best sushi he’d ever eaten—and spread his investigation notes all across the bar counter, staring at them as he nibbled at the last few chocolates.

Slowly, he’d been organizing the fragments. Finding patterns, piece by piece. There was a language here, one neither he nor Corinne recognized, one they could find no record of in any history of the Empire.

But whoever had made these notes—before they tried to destroy the notes—had been struggling with the language too. Tantalizing bits Yeijiro could recognize as citations, translations, mistakes crossed out and corrected.

In a different pile, additional notes he’d added today, his own separate research while Corinne had been occupied. He’d looked into the estate Corinne was staying at, but couldn’t find any connection to the mysterious hostess. It had been recently purchased, in fact, by the Dragon ambassador.

He’d also noticed its proximity to the Emperor’s private estate.

Which prompted him to pull out the file he’d stolen from the classified marshal records. The file created by Roderich of what had happened during the attack on the Dragon Fortress, but also—more importantly—the follow-up that had occurred at the Emperor’s estate. The death of Kosuri Vivek. Which explained why Roderich had been so certain the investigation was closed.

But Roderich didn’t have all the facts. Yeijiro was starting to put together a picture that confirmed there was still a very real danger. He was going to have to take this to Elena. Even if half the things he knew were things he shouldn’t. Yeijiro would accept those consequences. This was too much to keep to himself.

Especially since—

His eyes snagged on the picture of Kosuri Vivek’s body. It was a gruesome sight, and Yeijiro had glanced over it when he’d first taken the file, then kept it mostly buried. He didn’t like looking at it.

But now, something caught his attention. Something he hadn’t recognized before.

Yeijiro grabbed his tablet, used its camera to look closer at the details on the picture. Magnified, he could just start to make out the tiny symbols that the blood spatter resolved into.

Familiar symbols.

Symbols from Pax. The rift. The demon. Lady Snow. The invitation. Vivek’s death.

Everything snapped together in his mind with sudden, horrifying clarity. He tapped his earpiece, his line to Corinne. “Corinne. Corinne.”

It took her longer to answer this time. “Corinne!” he tried again.

“Not now, Yeijiro,” came her whispered response.

“Yes. Now. Listen. We need to—I’m coming to meet you. I need your help, and there’s something you need to see. Tonight. I don’t think it can wait.”

“Are you sure? Because—”

She cut off. Yeijiro tried several times to reach her again, but he couldn’t get the signal to connect.

As quickly as he could, Yeijiro shoved all the files into a bag, grabbed his sword and his marshal’s jacket, and made for the estate.