“Gods, did you ever stop to consider that I wouldn’t have wanted you to seek justice for me?” Peter was propped up in his small single bed, his ribs bandaged and his face swollen.

Fin perched beside him on a small three-legged stool, having brought the man his lunch early knowing that he wouldn’t have time to later. He really could only stay for a brief visit to let his aide know of the morning’s events.

“There was no calming Hannah down. Not to mention her… colorful speech at the end that may make the Knights start to behave a little differently towards the maids.” Fin explained with a grin.

“I’m surprised the Knights didn’t revolt against her.”

“On the contrary, she has had two formal requests for a courting date from two of them in the hour following. I think, for some strange reason, it made her very popular and desirable to them. Even Mr. Harris is ready to drop down on one knee.”

Peter shook his head mystified.

“I’m a man myself, but sometimes, my own kind behaves in a way beyond my comprehension.”

Fin laughed and slowly stood with a stretch.

“I better get back. Until we find another aide to temporarily cover for you, we’re going to be horribly busy. Get better quickly.” As he headed towards the door of the cramped but well kept chamber, Peter called out.

“How are you doing with Lady Jenoure’s suitors being here?”

Fin slowly turned back around.

“Did Hannah say something to you?” He asked suspiciously.

“No. We just have caught you two having moments together and figured it out.” Peter’s eyes twinkled.

“What moments?”

Peter began to look incredibly uncomfortable as he shifted his body against his pillows with a wince.

Unable to further inflict suffering on the man, Fin dropped his head to his chest and with a sigh, waved his hand.

“Don’t worry about it for now. I’ll get it out of you when I feel it’s a fair fight.”

Peter tried to smile, but this evidently caused the man even more pain, and so he settled for a bemused grimace.

“Take care of yourself.” Fin added softly with a kind smile as he turned and closed the door behind himself.

Peter’s chambers were in the glamorous east wing servant’s quarters, on the second floor, and so Fin decided to take the exit by the rose maze on his journey back to the kitchen for a change of scenery.

As he strode down the winding stone steps, he passed by two maids heading in the same direction that whispered behind their hands to each other when they saw who was nearby. The cook unconsciously hunched his shoulders against their attention. Shoving his hands in his pockets, Fin rounded the servant stairwell exit, and turned immediately right to go outdoors. The gossipy women turned left much to his relief.

The rain hadn’t yet broken out despite the ominous thundering from earlier, and there were even rays of sunlight beginning to beam down in cracks of the gray day.

As he walked, his eyes cast to the ground, he thought about whether or not to prepare the fluffy vanilla cake with strawberries and cream for dessert, or if that was too simplistic. He almost failed to hear the pounding footfalls approaching him as he mulled over the dilemma.

Fin stopped in his tracks as he watched Mr. Howard barrel towards him from the direction of his kitchen. An errant dirty blonde curl sprung up from the humidity, while the assistant wore entirely black save for a long silk vest of icy blue.

“Mr. Ashowan, have you and mage Lee still not found the tenth fountain?” He demanded angrily without any other form of greeting.

“No, but-”

“What? What is it with witches and mages, hm? Do you just enjoy messing around with-” Fin hastily slapped a hand on to Mr. Howard’s mouth, silencing the man instantly.

He shot the outraged assistant a bored expression with a single raised eyebrow.

“What does the word ‘secret’ mean in your vocabulary?” He whispered.

The redhead lowered his hand, but not before he noticed the maids from earlier watching them from the nearby castle windows behind Mr. Howard’s back.

He knew what he was thinking of doing was going to land him in some degree of trouble but… he’d had a stressful morning. Having a bit of fun would help.

“Mr. Ashowan, I ask that you restrain yourself from touching me. Apparently there are enough rumors circulating about your preferences.” Mr. Howard straightened himself with great dignity, and tugged gently on the lapel of his vest importantly.

“Mine? Last I heard, they are all rooting for my aide Peter and yourself.” Fin made sure to keep his voice barely above a whisper, as he shot the man a cheeky half smile.

“Myself and… and an aide?” He shook his head and slapped his right hand to his face before dragging it down slowly, stretching his features comically.

“Peter is a wonderful man, I’m sure you’d both share the love of the finer things. Perhaps stop by while he’s recovering from the beating to offer your support.” Fin’s serious expression and addition of the information on the aide’s current state of health, worked in effectively distracting Mr. Howard. He had also said the last sentence a little louder for the eager ears nearby.

“Yes, I was hearing about that from the Captain. I heard your kitchen Knights handled the situation? I’ve informed the King that a disciplinary meeting will be held this evening for a short while post-dinner. I will send someone to retrieve you.”

“Actually, the entire kitchen staff handled the situation.” Fin crossed his arms while speaking lightly, keeping his eyes on Mr. Howard and not on the growing audience from within the castle that the assistant hadn’t noticed.

Mr. Howard visibly balked while blinking rapidly. He fixed the cook with an expression of dramatic confusion.

“Wait- did you use- don’t you have a female maid under your command?!” The broken sentence made Fin grin.

“I didn’t use magic and you should know that Hannah was the one to break Sir Thoel’s jaw and knock out some teeth.”

The assistant’s jaw dropped.

Fin laughed and clapped the assistant on the shoulder. He then leaned in so that he was a tiny inch from the man’s ear.

“You’ll hear all about it after dinner.”

He resumed his trek back to the kitchen with his hands in his pockets, and didn’t turn back around, even when Mr. Howard hammered the last nail into his coffin by shouting at his back.

“You better give me the full story this evening!”

The hearty laughter that came from the cook puzzled Mr. Howard, until he turned towards the eastern doors to the castle and noticed a cluster of young maids scampering away the moment he saw them.

“I’m going to kill him.” Mr. Howard seethed as he stalked into the castle and tried not to curse too loudly.

*

Annika sat in the centre of the rose maze, completely unaware that a steamy dramatic love affair was being imagined by the maids of the castle, while she bided her time in the presence of Lord Miller.

She had successfully dismantled any conversation from progressing, and to her satisfaction, the man was fidgeting with the flouncy tea set she had personally chosen to use for her first chaperoned outing with the Troivackian.

“You look—er, lovely.” He smiled, albeit strained, making Annika give a bored, single shoulder shrug. She continued to stare around the garden indolently.

“Thank you my Lord.” She reached for her teacup that she had generously doused with moonshine prior to his arrival in the garden, and gulped it gratefully.

“It’s always strange in these situations I’m told. Do you miss Troivack at all?” The poor man was grasping for straws.

“No.”

He could grasp until his fingers fell off, she was not going to give him an inch.

“Oh? What do you like so much about Daxaria?” The man’s eagerness at having a new potentially interesting topic almost made Annika pity him.

“The food is good.” She answered shortly as she picked up the strawberry rhubarb tart on her plate, and bit into it gingerly before taking another sip from her teacup.

“Ah, that it is! Everyone who recently came here from Troivack has admitted that much about the castle’s latest chef. He must have studied for many years to be so talented. To have such flavors…” Lord Miller reached out and plucked up a blueberry square that had crumbled brown sugar and baked oats atop.

“I suppose.” Annika placed her empty cup back on the saucer and waited as one of the footmen rushed forward and refilled her cup. Silently wishing she had the opportunity to add some more Troivackian moonshine, she crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair.

Lord Miller took another sip from his own cup and let out a long sigh.

“Pardon me my Lady, I must break Daxarian customs.” The man withdrew a plain silver flask from his black coat’s breast pocket and topped the brew with the clear liquor that Annika immediately recognized.

He must have noticed her stare, because he broke into a warm smile.

“Would you like a taste of home my Lady? I know you must remember how strong it is, but perhaps a little nip?”

Annika couldn’t resist.

She proffered her cup wordlessly, and when he really did only splash in a tiny amount, she grew impatient.

“I’ve not forgotten the moonshine, go ahead.” She ordered firmly.

“My Lady, I’d rather you not become so indisposed in the middle of the day on our first-”

“I’ll be fine. Have you ever drank with Lord Piereva?” She drawled.

The aggravating man shook his head and twisted the cap back onto the flask.

“You’ve been away for a few years now and-”

Annika sighed and withdrew her own flask with his ornate designs, unscrewed its cap, and filled her cup to the brim.

When she had finished putting the flask back in the discreet pocket in her skirts, she locked gazes with Lord Miller who had watched speechless.

She waited for his judgment, his barrage of lectures on the proper etiquette of a Troivackian woman. She took a gulp from her tea without looking away from him once. When she didn’t cough, vomit, or faint, but instead continued looking thoroughly bored, he surprised her for the second time that day.

He began to laugh.

It was a hearty booming sound that sounded as though it lived in the cave of his chest at the ready at all times.

He really was a black sheep of Troivack.

Annika found herself fighting off a smile.

“Well my Lady, a toast to the superior liquor of our country?”

She raised her teacup and gently chinked the china without another word.

*

Her second ‘meeting’ of the day, the Lady Jenoure was supposed to have a late and leisurely lunch with the Zinferan Lord Ryu. The date was set up in the courtyard garden, and everyone but absolutely necessary personnel had been sent away. The clouds seemed stubborn in sharing the torrential downpour it had threatened earlier in the day, and so the garden had been lit using tall torches planted in the ground around the couple.

Annika was already tired and annoyed at having to maintain a constant façade. She blithely admitted to herself she had grown lazy since her time in Troivack, back when she was constantly behaving as another person, and manipulating everyone and everything.

“The greenhouse is quite an impressive structure. I have never seen anything like it.” The Zinferan observed calmly. He hadn’t forced any conversation on the Lady after she had given him one-word answers to his opening greetings.

However it was becoming a problem, as he seemed to thoroughly enjoy the silence.

Annika was in the process of gearing up to be the chattiest noble alive, when the man continued.

“We have a greenhouse in every Lord’s household to provide fresh fruits and vegetables in the chillier months, though we hardly get the same amount of snow where I am from. In fact, your Daxarian winters nearly killed me back when I first arrived here. I had to stay for nearly two years under the care of a kind family on the isle of Quildon.” The Zinferan raised his goblet of water to his lips and sipped thoughtfully, clearly comfortable with performing a monologue to his lunch company.

“Whom did you stay with?” Annika blurted the question before she could stop herself.

Lord Ryu turned his eyes to her and smiled fondly.

“A single mother who was a gifted healer and her son. He is actually the cook here in the castle now. I had nothing to do with that promotion however.” The Lord added with a good-natured smile.

“He is a talented cook.” Annika managed as she delicately speared the pasta that had been prepared by the very man they spoke of. It was a refreshing dish, prepared with tomatoes, basil, Troivackian feta cheese, and Troivackian black olives. It was a light, delicious meal that somehow comforted her worries as images of a certain redhead came to her mind’s eye.

“I’m surprised you aren’t asking me more questions about my new ascension into being a Lord. Everyone else has nearly questioned me to death. I am grateful for the reprieve.” He raised his goblet in thanks then returned to looking around the garden while remaining perfectly still.

Annika couldn’t put her finger on what felt so wise and old in the young man. He couldn’t have even been a decade older than herself, and yet he felt even older than Lord Fuks or mage Lee.

There was a grounded strength that had a calming, yet authoritative aura. He would be an excellent Lord, that much she could tell.

She continued watching him closely without saying a word for a while, trying to figure out the strange man.

“You are opposed to marriage amongst us three aren’t you?” The Lord suddenly turned with a kind smile on his face. He stared at her compassionately while gently folding his hands.

“I am happy to help my country, why would you say such a thing my Lord?” It would take a lot more than an abrupt accusation to throw Annika off her game.

“I was here for Beltane, remember? You were incredibly clever and witty back then. While you still kept to yourself, you aren’t nearly the dullard you’re trying to convince us that you are.” His tone wasn’t accusatory, so much as amused and praising.

“The festivities had a lot of libations. I may have been more forthcoming.” She shrugged enigmatically as she took another sip from her cup.

“Is it that you do not want to marry again? Or is it perhaps that you care for another?” Lord Ryu asked gently, dropping his voice so that only she could hear. His tone was a pleasant combination of soothing and understanding.

“Nothing of the sort. I am sorry I am displeasing you.” Annika replied, meekly dropping her eyes in feigned hurt.

Once again, her performance didn’t warrant the reaction she had been anticipating.

Lord Ryu burst out laughing, his brilliant smile catching her off guard as she hastily sipped her goblet to hide her flummoxed thoughts.

“Oh you’re good my Lady. However I didn’t get where I am today by being a foolish man.” He smiled fondly at her and sipped his goblet again.

The rest of the luncheon passed in thoughtful quiet between the two of them.

Though Annika had to thoughtfully admit she was beginning to worry…

*

It was a final tea date in the mid-afternoon between Lord Nam and the Lady Jenoure where she finally caught a break.

Plush red lounge couches that the Lord had brought from his home had been set out in the gardens, a canopy erected, and a table covered in platters of fruit, bread, and cheese between them. Two decanters of wine sat out ready behind two ornate goblets awaiting that had been polished to a gleam. Annika didn’t have time to admire the artistic layout however, as she was in the throes of trying to arrange herself gracefully on the chaise with little success.

The cloudy day had continued on, yet despite this, the Lord still had one of his servants fanning him.

His bare chest was exposed once more in his ensemble of a gold silk coat and white linen pants, but it didn’t bother him to be disrobed in front of her apparently. Instead, he eyed the Lady with a quick, bored glance.

“Welcome Lady Jenoure. I know you must be quite weary from having to meet with so many of us in a day.” He drawled with a sigh while closing his eyes.

“Not at all my Lord.”

Lord Nam opened his eyes, a coy smile on his face.

“Is it common for you to find yourself in the company of multiple men?”

“Of course not my Lord. I simply meant you all have been kind.”

The amusement on the Lord’s face melted away and he gave a small snort.

“How dull.” His eyelids fluttered closed.

After a few awkward moments of silence he opened his eyes again, and with a sudden burst of energy swung his legs over the edge of his couch.

“What kind of man is it that you like?” He demanded with an openly suggestive smile that almost made Annika laugh.

“Frugal.” She replied, delighted in watching the look of disgust flash briefly across his face.

“Frugal in his generosity you mean?” The Lord demanded clearly trying not to openly scorn her.

“No, as in he knows how to find contentment with what he has. Perhaps someone who enjoys a bit of banter, deeply cares for others, and is stronger than he realizes.” She couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on her face then, and even Lord Nam was momentarily stunned by it, despite her controversial words. A small blush had crept up in her cheeks as her gaze fixated on the ground.

“I see. You are far more innocent than I would’ve imagined for a woman of your age.” He let out another weary sigh before continuing.

“Such a man lacks ambition, or the ability to relax and enjoy life. It sounds like a laborious existence.” Lord Nam waved his hand lazily.

“I prefer to think of it as responsible and purposeful.” Annika countered evenly not taking kindly to the jibe at her age. She wasn’t even in her thirtieth year!

“How disappointing. You really should learn to embrace a better reality.” The man reached out his hand without glancing her way, and Annika watched gleefully as a servant rushed forward and filled a goblet for their master and handed it to him.

The Lady nearly whooped in joy.

‘You’re absolutely perfect.’ She thought to herself delightedly.

Annika felt a million worries begin to melt away inside her chest and mind.

She had found the perfect answer to almost all of her problems…

She just had to toy with Lord Nam a tiny bit more, and hope her bet would pay off.