Grev was starting to feel a little more worried as they checked a sitting room adjacent to the lounge, as Esmund had, as of yet, failed to appear.

“I didn’t find him,” Yrsa said entering the room. Not that there was much searching involved. Esmund might be small but there was only so much hiding the impatient youth could do.

Though, he is worryingly competitive, Grev thought. If he’s taken this as a challenge, it might become a lot harder to find him. Especially with drunken stubbornness on his side, his thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of the servant from earlier.

“Sirs, there’s been some disturbance out in the gardens. It appears your guest may have left the mansion to examine the estate.”

He did seem intrigued as we went past, Grev thought.

Yrsa let out an unwilling sound, grabbing Dovar’s arm as he passed, “I don’t like this.”

Grev looked out a window in the lounge into the night sky. It was dark outside, with barely any light. It wasn’t unreasonable that Yrsa, woman of the court, not warrior didn’t want to go out in the dark to look for a stranger she didn’t know.

“He’s probably more drunk than we realized if he went out in the dark like that,” Grev said, though, could imagine Esmund repeating the move while sober, “So he’ll probably appreciate a hangover prevention drink. If not now, then he certainly will tomorrow.”

“So will Ranvir for that sake,” Dovar said innocently.

Grev nodded, “Yrsa, why don’t you go set the staff to prepare some along with a jug of water?” he asked. “Then you can also keep watch in case he heads back inside, and you’ll be close to Sansir as well.”

Yrsa looked relieved as the reasons she should stay inside piled on. Grev forced the mask over his face, hiding away his grin. The staff could easily prepare the ‘prevention’ themselves, it was just a simple tea and a little salt.

“You’re right,” she smiled and nodded in acknowledgment to Grev, before heading over to the servant. “I will be impatiently waiting for you,” she flashed a smile to Dovar that made Grev emphasized that he only looked like a fully grown adult.

Grevor and Dovar strode to the entrance, where they both put on their coats before heading out into the dark. It was a smoky night, the moon barely glowing as it hung high in the sky.

Outside the door, a few of the outdoor servants were waiting for them, “Where do we start looking?” Dovar asked.

“This way, sir.”

The walked through the estate in darkness, Grev didn’t want to throw around too much light in case Esmund was actually trying to hide from them. They passed through the intricate gardens, which were a marvel in design even if they didn’t look like much at this time of year and day. Dovar’s mother was a known enthusiast and she’d often imported foreign flowers, bushes, and trees, though there weren’t many plants that could properly survive an elusrian winter.

They took an off-shooting branch leading to a shack hidden away on the edge of the gardens. It was a favorite place for children to play during parties. Grev had even played there as a child, though, he’d never had much interaction with Dovar before they’d grown much older.

Now, Grev could see the lock had been forcefully opened. He gathered a small flicker of light so they could more closely examine the breach. The divided metal gleamed brilliantly from a perfect cut.

“He’s been here alright,” Dovar said seeing the same thing Grev did. “Did he take anything?”

“Sir, it’s a bit of a mess,” one of the servants said, lifting a lantern. It was a regular one, instead of a bright-torch as their sunbearer had likely retired for the day. Usually, those kinds of people were good about setting boundaries and if they were good at their jobs their contract also usually made them unavailable during certain hours. “A lot of the tools have been thrown to the ground. If anything’s missing we don’t know it yet.”

“He was very interested in your snow-cleaners,” Grev said. “At least they caught his eye when he first saw them.”

“Check those tools first then,” Dovar said. Not that the tool would do him much good, it would’ve run out of power some time ago. Likely all of these tools had been emptied out hours ago.

“Do you have any tools with warp glyphs on them?” Grev asked, a sudden thought striking him.

“No, sir. Not at this facility,” the servant replied. “They’re locked away more securely elsewhere.”

“Good, excellent,” Grev said leaning against the wall. “Any ideas where to look for him now?”

Dovar clicked his tongue, “He’s probably somewhere in the garden, though, finding him might be a bit hard.”

Grev nodded, “Nothing to it but searching then,” as he leaned away from the wall, his coat came away with a sticky noise. Pausing, Grev slowly cast light on the spot where he’d been leaning. Yellow paint about the size of a torso stained the wall. In the low flickering light of the lanterns he’d missed it. “Has he taken any paint?”

“Paint, sir?” the servant stepped through the mess and got closer to the light Grev was shining. “Sir, we don’t have any yellow paint in storage currently.”

“How the fuck did he get yellow paint, then?”

“Why did he paint his chest and press it against the wall?” Dovar added, noting the distinct shape of the impression.

Grev lifted his finger pointing at his tall friend, “That is an even better question. Let’s go,” he set off trying not to think about how the paint likely ruined his coat.

They walked in silence for a while before Grev spoke up, “How are you doing?”

Dovar grunted, “Fine, I guess.”

“I know things have been tough with your dad lately.”

Dovar didn’t immediately reply, instead Grev felt the weight of his gaze as the humanoid brickwall considered him, “He’s been getting worse,” he finally acknowledged.

Dovar’s family used to the cousins of the last generation’s leader of the Sworden. It was a poorly hidden secret that Dovar’s father and a group of accomplices had through political maneuvering, duels of honor, and backstabbing in dimly lit sitting rooms, gained the position of patriarch of the failing family. And he’d done well for a time, though, he grew more reclusive in his later years, retreated from discussion on the Lords’ Council and leaving parties early.

“We can’t let him out alone anymore,” Dovar’s voice was tense as he spoke. “Or let him be alone with Asny. He’s too… volatile. Some days are good and he can keep a lid on it… but those are growing rare, nowadays.”

“I’m sorry,” Grev said briefly nudging his arm. “It must be tough.”

“Sveitha is setting up to replace him, she basically already has,” Dovar swallowed audibly, “And he’s not bigger than me anymore. It’s Asny that I worry about. She’s never had the chance know her father.”

“What happened to him?” Grev asked his voice quiet.

Dovar started speaking but his voice failed him, he had to clear his throat and try again, “One backstabbing too many. One of his accomplices poisoned him. He got a healer in time, but he never really recovered.”

From studying the last fifteen years of political reports on the Lords’- and Masters’ Council, Grev had a good idea of when that happened. “I’m sorry. No son should have to watch their father go through that.”

Dovar sighed, “It’s fine, I’ll live…” he paused as Grev scented the same smell that had caused Dovar to stop. “Mom’s emberleaf!”

Dovar took in a run towards one of the three big trees that dotted the garden. Not the biggest one but a smaller trees that Grev could now see was swaying oddly in the wind, a stench of smoke and burning wood stemming from it. He didn’t know much about trees, though, he could guess that the smell wasn’t entirely uncommon for that kind of tree. He could also guess that it was rare and expensive from Dovar’s sudden dash.

I guess we found Esmund.

Minul sat on a balcony, looking out across the rear fourth of the capital and the forest land that enveloped the hills beyond it. Saif slouched in the chair opposite her as he gave his report.

“I think we figured out what made her act up this morning,” he said. “I got a report from Pashar a little under an hour ago.”

“Oh?” Minul quirked an eyebrow. She couldn’t really blame him for delaying a report by an hour for their scheduled meeting.

“Yeah, apparently Ranvir was out drinking last night and has a terrible hangover. There’s a chance that she might’ve detected that on him this morning, which would’ve caused the flare up.”

“She can reach the academy from the palace?” Minul asked.

“Probably further if I were to guess,” Saif said. “With her senses, not her powers.”

Minul breathed in deeply, “And what about the after math?”

Saif spread his arms in a vague motion as he shrugged, “Nothing much. It appeared she flared up close to Inaaya again. By the time I got there, however, she’d calmed down and had returned to her own quarters.”

Minul frowned, “On her own?”

“It appears so.”

“Has she done that before?”

Saif sighed and fiddled with a loose bit of wicker in his chair, avoiding her gaze, “I’m not sure. She spends most of her time in Dawn Crown back in Ankiria and I haven’t spent a lot of time at the palace lately… maybe.”

Minul sighed, “At least, we don’t need to free three dozen guardsmen this time.”