When David opened the door, there was a stranger inside his office, back turned towards him, rifling through the papers spread out on the table. He was probably a few years older than David, his hair strained with grey, and he wore a robe of nearly the same colour. David had half drawn his sword before he remembered that Lord Clermont had told him he would send someone.

He still called: “Hey? What do you think you’re doing there?”

The man turned around slowly, showing a face with a long nose on which a pair of spectacles was riding low.

“My apologies, Lord Feleke. Lord Clermont spoke to Lord Mire and I was sent here to take over as your right hand. Lord Clermont told me you were informed of this?”

David nodded and finally entered all the way.

“My name is Grooch,” the man continued. “I have worked at this palace all my life. I’m surprised you haven’t requested at least a secretary earlier. I do beg your pardon, Milord, but this is quite a mess. I took the liberty to start sorting these reports, and I have also drafted up a list of necessary personnel and materials, which I will need you to sign off on before I can pass it on to Lord Mire, who I’m sure will approve it quickly. If there is anything else you might need, please let me know and I will requisition it. Lastly, with your permission, I will take over your correspondence with King’s Haven, which appears to be a rather unprofitable waste of your time?”

David blinked slowly, a little overwhelmed. He could request a staff? On whose authority? And more importantly, what budget? Trained secretaries probably didn’t work for free?

Grooch seemed rather confused by that question. He took his spectacles off and cleaned them with a sleeve. “You – were given a budget, Milord? You are listed with Lord Mire, the steward of this castle, as the official in charge of all werewolves matters. Obviously, there is a budget attached to this position. One of Lord Mire’s hands should have sent you a letter with the details?”

“If they did, I have no idea where that letter has been sent to. It didn’t arrive here.”

David was fairly certain that he had read everything that had come to this room. But he wouldn’t have been surprised if it had gone to Brines instead, or the family house in Deva – he did remember a pile of unopened letters there, but he had simply assumed it was mail for his parents – or possibly even Oldstone Castle, depending on when George Louis had formalized his position here. Or, less likely but still possible, this was some kind of elaborate practical joke of George’s. It wouldn’t have been the first time.

“Not to worry, Milord, I shall request a copy right away. But you did receive a formal document with your accreditation?”

“His Highness gave me a document stating that I’m allowed to issue Crown Warrants on werewolves and follow through on them as well.”

“That is certainly useful, but not what I meant. With your permission, I will query his Highness’s staff about that, too?”

“Go ahead. Also, have a seat.” David took his own chair and Grooch pulled up the single seat for visitors, which was only ever occupied by Lord Clermont, George Louis being apparently too busy to bother him.

David would never admit it to the duke’s face, but he was a little hurt by this.

“So, what else should I be aware of?”

Grooch hesitated. “Am I – am I correct in assuming that you have never held an official position at court before?”

“I have been hunting werewolves since I was fourteen,” David confirmed, slightly annoyed about the question. “So no, I have never had a comfy job working indoors before.”

He very much wished he didn’t have one now.

Grooch visibly shuddered and took off his spectacles again to polish them. “I assumed that was just a rumour,” he admitted after a moment. “But that means you have never – assembled a staff? Or dealt with the palace bureaucracy?”

David nodded.

“Very well. Maybe we should start with this list of what I would like to requisition, with your permission.”

David took the parchment the clerk offered him. In a very neat script, it listed both personnel – two under-secretaries – and materials. Everything from parchment and ink to additional rooms.

“Why two secretaries?” David asked.

Grooch pointedly looked at the stacks of reports on the desk. “You are already receiving reports from over a dozen cities, and it is entirely possible that you will soon have reports from more than just that one werewolf, too. I was also given to understand that you are in regular correspondence with Deva University. Lastly, there are all these requests from journalists which you didn’t even take out of the envelopes. For that alone, I calculate you will need at least one secretary.”

“I have no real intention of dealing with the press,” David gave back. “It’s bad enough that they are lurking around my home.”

Grooch looked at him quizzically. “I heard a rumour you sometimes take journalists with you down into the dungeon where the werewolves are kept?”

“Only so the werewolves can scare the crap out of them.”

Grooch stared at him over the top of his spectacles. “Milord, I have to very strongly advise you against risking injury to members of the public. Especially to those members of the public likely to write about it. Not if you want people to lose their fear of werewolves.”

“There was never any danger,” David grumbled. “The werewolves are inside their cells, for flame’s sake. They just make a lot of noise, that’s all. Not my fault these people run screaming at the mere sight of them. And the young lady who followed me down this morning got over it quickly, too.”

“Really. What newspaper is she writing for?”

David didn’t remember.

Grooch didn’t show any hint of annoyance at that. The older man only just pushed his spectacles up his nose and said: “I suppose we can send a runner into the city tomorrow to buy all the papers he can get.”

“Whatever for?”

“You do not wish to find out what they write about you? It might quite affect your work. Unless I was mistaken that you goal is not just the freedom of Loegrion, but also an improved standing of werewolves?”

David shrugged. “I don’t have time to sift through a stack of papers every morning.”

Grooch smiled for the first time. “Of course not, Milord. That’s what delegation is for. I shall inquire about our budget right away. If it is what I believe, we should hire someone to deal with that.”

“You do that,” David agreed. “How are the chances of hiring someone who might take up my work with the werewolves here, in case I need to leave Deva for a time?”

The secretary looked rather uneasy at that question. “I cannot make any promises to that. Generally speaking, my colleagues are very much – used to comfy jobs indoors. It might be easier to hire a werewolf hunter as your surrogate. Perhaps one of your brothers?”

“Maybe,” David said. “Though they’re busy. Although once Greg is back from the Argentum Formation, he might be available. If you can work alongside a werewolf, that is?”

Grooch hesitated again. “So that is true, too? That one of your brothers is a werewolf?” he hedged.

“That’s why I’m here in the first place, yes.”

“Well – I suppose... But, Milord, wouldn’t it be wiser if it was your brother travelling the country, and you staying here, somewhere central?”

“I’ll take that as a no,” David said. “Fine, I’ll ask around if one of my old colleagues is looking for a government job.”

“I’m sure that would be best,” Grooch said, looking extremely relieved.

David nodded, and they went over the rest of the inventory list, then over all the work David would usually do. Once they were done, David felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulder. He actually left early enough that it wasn’t yet completely dark outside – the first time since he had returned to Deva – happy to leave Grooch to write his letters for him. He’d read them over tomorrow and sign them.

For now, he was going to blow off some steam.

Deva Castle didn’t just have one area for fencing, but several. The largest one was the gymnasium where the Loegrian soldiers trained for war. David had gone there a couple of times before, but with the cadet school also using the place, it tended to get very crowded. A second set of training rooms were situated around a large arena in the heart of the palace. It had seating all around, and outside of the Season, it was the main matchmaking space of the palace: Young ladies flocked to the seats, and the eligible lords aimed to impress them either in the pit or on the sidelines. David could have easily upstaged most of the duellists, but he had no interest in their style of fighting, and anyway, he was supposedly spoken for.

So he picked the third, smallest hall of fencing. Only about a dozen men were working out here, ranging from David’s age to Lord Bloom, who was well past sixty. Nobody here bothered with the fancy new Valoisian style of fighting that was purely for sport – the men who came here were dangerous with a blade. Several of them were veterans from one Valoisian campaign or another. At least half of them, David was certain, had already killed other men in duels.

Lord de Clare had used to practise here, back when he’d still been welcome at the castle.

Nobody looked over in his direction when David found himself a space on the floor. Lord de Clare wasn’t the only reason the place had a bit of a shady reputation, but really, the men who came here mostly just wanted to be left alone to their training.

Just like David.

He felt tired but good, relaxed, when he got back to the house. He told the servants to prepare him a bath, and in the meantime, he sat down in his father’s study, grabbed a sheet of paper, and wrote another letter to Lane, explaining about Theresa and Grooch. He would send a telegram tomorrow morning as well, since the letter would take a few days to get there.

He liked writing to Lane, liked reading her answers, too. Somehow penning all down made it easier to gather his thoughts, and she had a lot of insights into the palace intrigues. Unlike him, she hadn’t been able to just stay away completely.

He really, really would have liked her to come to Deva. He wondered, not for the first time, if she would come if he asked. In the end, he decided against it.