I didn’t know whether I should have felt guilty for petrifying Orwell. My smile was enough for him to realize that he should take his place along the wall for petrification, but the only thing he said was a whispered ‘how did he know?’ The words were said so softly I knew it wasn’t intended for me. That made me confident in my assumption that he wasn’t what he claimed to be.

In fact, I wasn’t certain exactly who he was. He could have been a spy, an assassin, a thief—I wasn’t entirely sure who he worked for or if he worked for anyone. Yet I did know I couldn’t trust him. It made me wonder if I could trust Rhaela the Red, who had picked him out from all the assistants that had been available nearby.

Either way, it wasn’t something that I intended to resolve this evening. Instead, I took my dinner of wonderfully roasted mutton with potatoes, had a hot bath that was entirely too short, and turned in for the evening.

After weeks away from my bed, I was asleep in mere moments and felt refreshed when I awakened the next day.

The morning brought with it several surprises, not the least of which was a mild regret when I saw the stone bodies of Orwell and Murattita, if those were their real names. I wondered if perhaps I had acted hastily or if I could have handled the matter better. I couldn’t think of a better solution, even the next day, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one. Petrifying the two was only putting the matter off for later, and I knew it. I had put so many matters off for later that it left me feeling uneasy.

It didn’t help my feelings when I saw the faces Philipe and Drina made as they saw the statues. In hindsight, I could have chosen a better location than the first floor to explain they would have to pick up on some extra duties. Still, that half circle table was the best place for the other meetings I had today. The other residents of my tower were very tactful and didn’t broach the subject, the cooks going so far as to pretend the statues weren’t even there.

The first of my other meetings was with my former assistant Kine. He was the first to enter, carrying a bag over his shoulder. The man looked to be in high spirits, though, as he approached my curving table and sat down across from me.

“Good morning, master,” he said cheerfully. Then he paused as he noticed the two statues. He shook his head as if dismissing an errant thought, and then placed the bag in front of me. “I wanted to show you something.”

“Good morning,” I answered, happy he was in a much better mood than when we last spoke. He had seemed overwhelmed with the administration of a small village of refugees then.

Kine spoke as he began to unwind a string that closed the bag. “The village's children wanted to do something to thank you, and came to me for guidance,” he began. “While I wasn’t certain what they planned to do before speaking with me, I noticed that you have an interest in unique clothing. I suggested they make a hat.”

“Oh?” I asked. I didn’t expect anything from the rehomed orphaned children at all, least of all a gift. It had been a long time since I had been given a gift without some kind of ulterior motive behind it, so I felt a little excited at the prospect.

Kine’s hands undid the final string, but he paused before revealing the present. He spoke in a conciliatory tone, “Master, the children want to present this to you, but I know how you are. I thought to show it to you before they did, so that you wouldn’t be too surprised.”

That warning didn’t bode well, but I was still excited. With a smile and a wave of my hand, I motioned for him to continue. And he did.

He revealed a monstrosity; a disaster of epic proportions. The thing was so hideous, I couldn’t help but grimace. A single tight band of brown cloth at the bottom made a cylinder, but the top was outrageous. Strips of cloth of every color and type imaginable and been woven together haphazardly.

Together the band and strips might have presented the general shape of a beaten mushroom, but the sheer unsightliness of the thing was far, far worse than the shape.

“Oh.” Were the children looking to mock me? Had I done something to earn their ire?

Kine scratched the side of his face. “So… you see the reason I wanted to show it to you before they presented it.”

“Indeed. Do they expect me to… wear it?” I asked, not able to keep the apprehension from my voice.

“I’m afraid so,” Kine answered.

“Hmm.” I stroked my beard as I stared at the most tragic form of headwear I had ever seen. Perhaps, I should ready myself to depart today before they get the opportunity? I shook my head. No, it looked as though each child had contributed their own bit of cloth, and I didn’t want them to think their thanks were unwelcome. Most were orphans that had already lost much and traveled far. I didn’t want them to feel unappreciated.

And yet.

Yet, the thing resting on the table before me was absolutely hideous. I could maybe wear it once for the children and then stash it away to never be seen again. Yes, that I could do. It would be easy to claim that I didn’t want to damage something so valuable.

With a sigh, I looked back up at Kine, the man sitting with a nervous and hopeful expression on his face, “Very well, but—”

“It won’t happen again, I swear!” he answered fervently.

I nodded, “Good. Is that all?”

Kine began re-wrapping the Death of Fashion in the bag as he spoke, “One more thing, a minor grievance. With your new guards, and the village raised, the men are complaining there aren’t enough women.”

I snorted, “And?”

Kine looked resigned as he spoke, not daring to meet my eyes, “And they would like to know if they could visit some of the flowering ladies from time to time.”

“Flowering ladies? The nature elementals? There is a good chance they will be eaten if they do. Are they aware of that?”

“They are, and consider it an acceptable risk—from my understanding,” Kine had finished hiding That Which Shall Not Be Named back in its bag, but still wouldn’t look me in the eye as we spoke.

It was a complicated request. On one hand, I hated the idea of anyone relating any part of my tower to a brothel. On the other hand, any man stupid enough to be eaten in the attempt should probably be removed before their idiocy created a worse problem. Or worse, before they bred and created an entire family line of morons.

I tapped my finger on the table as I thought about the matter. Kine waited patiently, though he shifted about in obvious discomfort. It took long moments before I made up my mind.

“I’ll consider the matter later,” I pronounced definitively.

Kine nodded once, whether in agreement or acceptance, I couldn’t tell. “I’ll let them know, master. Have a good morning!”

I bid him farewell and waited for the Sister of Elora to enter. I didn’t recall this one’s name, but she seemed relieved to see me and bowed low.

“Good morning, Lord Fargus,” she called from her bow, though she remained bowed.

“Good morning, Sister, please have a seat,” I answered and gestured to the chair Kine had just sat on a few moments ago. Then I waited as she approached, sat, and spent far too long trying to situate herself. I had little to differentiate her from the other sisters, as they were all about the same height and wore the same garments, but if I had to, her eyes were a little more widely spread and her lips a tad bit thinner.

It was only after her sixth tug to straighten the same sleeve that I spoke, “Sister, you wanted to see me?”

She didn’t answer right away, rather her shoulders fell. She placed her hands into her lap and stared at them for a moment. I wanted to push the conversation along, as I had numerous research plans that I would be looking into in my laboratory after this meeting. I also feared she was here to resign her position, and I was completely unsuited for that conversation.

When she finally did look up at me, it was as if she resolved whatever turmoil she had been facing, “Lord Fargus, the goddess Elora has sent me a divine message to communicate to you.”

I tried to hide my surprise, but I wasn’t certain how well I did. The young woman continued regardless of my expression.

“The goddess wanted me to tell you to prepare yourself for a betrayal. That a woman close to you will break your trust soon.”

A woman close to me would break my trust soon? With the presence of her statue nearby and the recency of it, I couldn’t help but think of Murattita’s false identity as a slave. If that were the warning, it came too late. Was there another woman close to me who would betray me soon? If it wasn’t the assassin, who could it be? Loralie? She was close by. Chelsea? I wouldn’t be surprised if she betrayed me by accident, but I doubted she would do so intentionally. Lilly? She had left, so she wasn’t that close.

The other assistant hired, Drina? That was possible. Orwell had been a spy or something close to it. It also called into question Rhaela the Red’s loyalties, as she had hired them both and volunteered to be a spymaster of a sort. If I had hired someone else’s spy as my spymaster, how foolish would I be?

We spoke a few minutes more on simple matters such as the ongoing construction of the temple and how the orphan children were faring, small talk of little import. Yet her goddess's warning loomed over us both.

Afterward, I thanked the sister for her message and departed for my laboratory. I could consider the matter further while I worked.