Despite the glamour she yet donned to spare her the attention of the masses, Emilie couldn’t avoid being recognised by the specific people she had to deal with to solicit services. She had dispatched Krey to the market lanes to replenish their supplies before the next leg of their journey through Berodyl’s scorched regions, while she had set about securing them accommodations. Despite how it tightened her shoulders, she supposed the benefits of her station were a resource she should not squander, especially to aid others— in this case, her dear companions. Dalamas was a city that valued avant-garde innovation, enterprises of great wealth, and visitors of spectacular title; what she lacked in the first two, she made up for exceedingly in the third. In the end, with a bit of extra gylt thrown in in exchange for the proprietor’s silence regarding the status of his latest tenants, she’d managed to get them a traditional stone garden guesthouse on the first ascension.

After sealing the deal, she skipped along to the markets in search of her knight, and found him chatting with a peddler. He politely stepped away from his conversation when he saw her. “Ah, milady, how goes the house hunt?”

“It is done,” she chimed, “and done quite well at that if I do say so myself.”

“Excellent,” Krey smiled. “My march through the markets has gone similarly.” He motioned at the woman standing behind the stall he’d just been buying from. “Miss Maloof here has been a bottomless well of insight and useful advice when it comes to shopping here in Dalamas.”

Miss Maloof projected her voice over the hum of the marketplace to participate in their conversation. “Yes, it’s just a shame he won’t take all my advice!”

“My apologies, Miss Maloof,” Krey chortled, “but I’m afraid even your mesmerising charm cannot make a better homemaker of me; besides, my soul is promised to another.”

Miss Maloof glanced between him and Emilie rather obviously. “Ah, and here you are, flirting with me! You itinerant knights can be cheeky buggers, can’t you?!” she reeled back with laughter. “Well, she’s a pretty thing, I’ll say that much, even if she doesn’t look like she could lift even a single of my fruit baskets.” She made a show of her arm, flexing her tanned, toned muscles.

“W-w-wait!” Emilie stammered. “I… we… you think I’m… pretty?”

“Hey,” Miss Maloof pointed a finger at Krey, “you mean you haven’t told her? For shame!”

“I…” Krey stammered,” express my affections in other ways, Miss Maloof.”

“Dirty bugger!” she cackled again. Meanwhile, Emilie’s face was turning a worrying shade of red. “Well, I’m not one to judge! My husband was much the same before he went and got his stubborn arse killed by a basand— bloody fire elementals.” She picked up one of the succulent citrus fruits she had on display and passed it to Emilie. “Here, my lovely, a gift for you and your partner brightening my day! And I should think you’ll need the hydration and vigour it’ll lend you later this evening, heh heh!”

As they moved on from Miss Maloof’s market stall, Emilie thought she might faint from embarrassment alone, nevermind the heat. “I am not sure which I would’ve preferred… the mental imagery evoked by Miss Maloof, or the attention I’d get without this glamour.”

Krey dragged a palm down his face and took a deep breath. “I do believe I would’ve found it easier to hold back tides of enamoured city folk than to hold back the teases and advances of Miss Maloof.”

“Then we are agreed in forgetting the entire conversation?” Emilie asked stiffly.

“I that is your wish, milady, I shall happily oblige.”

Emilie took a bite of the fruit. It was sweet, juicy, wonderful, and just as Miss Maloof had said, it immediately instilled in her a sensation of refreshment and strength. “Krey… do you… do you think I’m…”

“Hmm?” Krey stopped them for a moment, giving Emilie all of his attention. “What is it, milady?”

She stared into his eyes for what felt like forever… but finally, she just said: “nothing. It’s nothing. If you don’t mind, would you go ahead and make sure everything is in order at our accommodation? Here,” she handed him a small, magic-imbued metallic card engraved with an address and a house name, “this is the key plaque for the house. I wish to rendezvous with Livia and Pippy, explore the upper ascensions a bit.”

“I’m not surprised,” Krey said. “You’ve got the heart of an explorer, and there are few cities worth exploring more than this one. Let’s see…” he inspected the key plaque, and some of the address was familiar. “Ah, yes, I think I know where this is. I’ve stayed on the same skyroad before, in a different lodging. Pray be careful, My Lady.”

Only for a moment, a moment Emilie was painfully aware of, and that she did her best to conceal, her lips threatened to twitch into a frown. Instead, she forced herself to smile. “Always, Sir Knight. We shall join you there before you’ve finished taking inventory.”

It didn’t take long for Krey to get there. Kiunde House, it was called. The interior was even more impressive than the front; apart from the bedrooms, it was totally open-floor, and even had archway openings onto balconies and series of little waterfalls and streams that were built into the walls, not just a pretty aesthetic in themselves, but also serving to keep the arrays of flowers decorating the place watered as well. The background noise of the running water blended soothingly with the occasional whisper of gentle wind from the balconies. The whole place was made of stone, and the floor was covered with stepping-stone-like ovals of carpet. After carefully depositing his shopping on the furniture of the central living area, he stepped out onto the main balcony and leaned on the ornate banister.

That’s when he heard that oh so familiar voice… the one voice he’d hoped to never, ever hear again.

“Hello, Krey.” It slithered into his ears like the faint echo of screaming children. “It has been far too long. I’m impressed by the way you handled Captain Mulgrew back in Dunlark. I’m pleased to see your time away from us has not softened you; you still have it in you to kill for the good of the realm.”

He didn’t look. To suffer her mere presence and voice was enough; he couldn’t stomach looking at her as well. Musidora, he cursed silently in his mind, not daring to utter the name aloud. “How…?”

“As if you really need to ask,” she giggled. “You don’t found and remain head of an organisation like the Garnet Inquisition - especially at my age - without being good at what we do… and I use ‘we’ inclusively.”

Krey bit his lip. “I wish you wouldn’t.”

“That’s too bad,” the Garnet Confessor whimpered mockingly. “Lucky for you, I am not here to act on your mark.”

“You mean like Hector tried to do?”

“Hector was an idiot; as devoted as he was, and as much as that pleased me, I never should’ve entrusted such responsibility to him.”

“You know he’s dead, then?”

“How could I not?” Krey couldn’t see, but he knew that vile monster was grinning now; he could feel it on his back. “His soul is within me now, swimming in my blood, sleeping in my bosom. His mark was as inescapable as yours is, Krey.”

“Will you get to the point already?” Krey growled, gripping the banister so tight it nearly crumbled in his hands.

“Oh, very well,” the Garnet Confessor sighed. “I am here with a warning, regarding that red battlemage you travel with. I know you hunt Fyren the Executioner with her. He has plans for her, and her alone; keep them apart, for the good of the realm. She is powerful beyond her own reckoning, but she is young and naive, and she is yet vulnerable to the flows of mana to which the arcane has made her open. If she does not learn to take command of those sensitivities, he will use them against her… and thus against all of us.”

Krey stood up straight now, letting go of the banister, but still did not turn around. “Why now?”

“I’ve always had my eye on you, Krey. Since the day you left us… I’ve been watching from afar.”

“That doesn’t answer my question. You let Hector take up your sword, you let him come after me after years of trying to dissuade him, and you allowed me to kill him. Why come to me now with this warning? Is it because I finally used the last of the bloody pinions you gave me?”

“I’ll let you think about that until the next time we meet. You may believe yourself done with the inquisition… but we are not done with you. You still owe us one. You still owe me one. Do you remember?”

Krey said nothing.

“Killing Hector did not absolve you of your mark… but I would not waste your potential by killing you as he would. You remain marked, Krey, but not for death. Next time you see me, I expect you to remember to which woman your soul is promised.”

He waited for the unbearable presence of that creature in womanly form to fade from the room, and only then did he finally look at the now-vacant space where she had just been standing.