It was the morning of the ball, and Fin had gotten little to no sleep the previous night. He had tossed and turned while trying to find the right words to say to Annika, and it was proving to be more than a little difficult. He kept imagining the various responses she could give to each well-crafted speech he would make, and the amount of possible replies was making the cook’s heart beat faster than his whisk as he worked on the morning omelettes. The Lady Jenoure could respond with disgust, disappointment, or even ignore him entirely… but there was also the chance that she could smile.

She could smile, embrace him, and tell him all of her devious plans that would be full-proof. Then they would never have to agonize over touching each other. Never have to say goodbye in all of the worst ways.

It was when Fin envisioned that particular outcome that he would smile despite his anxious uncertainty. Giving his head a shake, the cook tried to block his thoughts regarding the ball and focus on preparing the extensive meals for the day. He would need every ounce of attention and care when it came to Eric’s birthday cake, as the confectionery was designed to act as Fin’s gift to the young Prince. The cook had begun creating a cake in shape of a dragon, and had been experimenting with various alcohols to somehow make it appear as though it were breathing fire. A feature Fin had no doubt would bring the boy some excitement.

After a few moments of working in the growing heat of the kitchen, the cook went and opened the garden door to let in some fresh air, despite it being a downpour outdoors. He pushed the squeaking door into the rain, and was turning back to the glowing kitchen, when he noticed the dark figure standing at the end of the garden path…

Whoever it was, they stood leaning against the fence at the end of the path, with a black hood drawn over their face.

Fin’s gaze sharpened.

He reached out to the garden plants in his mind, and asked how long the man had been standing there.

‘There when you came.’

‘Here with others.’

‘Friends?’

‘Tickles!’

‘Trouble?’

The soft small voices that drifted through Fin’s mind made the hair on the back of his neck stand erect. They were equally wary about the stranger, and so the cook replied.

‘Bad stranger.’

The plants shifted away from the hooded figure, but he didn’t seem to notice- his eyes were trained on Fin alone. Not that his eyes were visible, but the cook could feel their intensity on him.

As he stared motionlessly at the stranger, he studied their build and height, and after a few moments, he was relatively certain that it was none other than Lord Piereva standing there.

Fin left the door open, his stomach riddled with knots as he strolled back to his table, picked up his knife, and began cutting up the fruit he had already set on his table.

Slowly the Lord strode up the path and through the door. He lowered his hood to reveal his glinting eyes, a cold smile lighting his face.

“Good morning Earl.” Fin greeted softly, his eyes studying the oddly cruel expression on the Troivackian’s face.

“You’re a busy man.” Lord Piereva began as he continued watching the cook. A puddle of rainwater around him continued to grow, though he predictably failed to apologize.

“I prepare food for hundreds of people several times a day. It makes sense that I’d be busy.” Fin explained as he continued cutting fruit without looking at his hands.

The Earl’s icy smile grew.

“Most impressive. Especially when you are taking the time to learn to read and write,” he continued his eyes glinting.

Fin was surprised at how quickly the Lord had come to him regarding his ‘secret’ note passing in the castle, and so he made a point of hesitating before answering to further the suspicion the man clearly had.

“It’s important to learn new things.” Fin ventured while making his tone hesitant but keeping his face still.

“It is indeed, it is indeed… Would you mind terribly showing me how your writing is coming along?” The Lord’s head weaved side to side as he asked the question. At that point, Fin wouldn’t have been surprised if a forked tongue flit out of the man’s mouth.

“I would be happy to my Lord, however I have two breakfasts to prepare and there isn’t any paper or ink here today.” Fin walked over to the ledge of the room and picked up two bags of apples and hauled them effortlessly to the table.

“How unfortunate.”

Slithering forward at an unnatural speed, the Earl was suddenly in front of the cook. He snatched the front of the Fin’s tunic and twisted it in his fist before jerking the redhead close enough to be nose-to-nose with him.

Fin didn’t bat an eye despite his heart lurching at the surprise.

“I know you’re a little witch just like your devil of a father.” The Earl’s eyes were slightly crazed, and Fin could feel something evil brewing in the air. “However, your father doesn’t care if you live or die. So whatever offer you may or may not get in the future, I advise staying on his good side. Explosions or not, I doubt you know what the Troivackian Chief of Military is capable of.” The trickle of cold laughter stained the Earl’s voice.

The noble had anticipated a flicker of emotion, a whiff of magic.

He got neither.

Instead, the witch regarded the Earl carefully before speaking. He didn’t appear bothered in the least that he was being held in a very threatening way.

“I don’t have a father, Lord Piereva. So whether or not a stranger cares about my livelihood, or lack thereof, matters little to me. Though I must confess, I am quite curious what kind of deal you think I should be agreeing to. Particularly with a man who sounds about as trustworthy as your even tempered moments.”

Rage and hate deeper than most were capable of feeling appeared in the Earl’s eyes. Fin hadn’t seen anything like it since Aidan Helmer himself…

“Lord Piereva I suggest you release me.”

The Earl sneered for a moment before releasing Fin. The redhead continued meeting the Troivackian’s gaze until he had reached the doorway of the garden.

“I’ll always be watching you Mr. Helmer. I suggest you act cautiously.” The smug smile Lord Piereva bore after calling Fin by Aidan’s last name almost made the witch blow him further into the forest than he had Jiho.

“Ah- I understand you’ve been travelling a great deal this year and that taxes the mind, but my last name is Ashowan. I can write it down for you if you’d like to bring me some parchment and ink.”

The Earl’s gleeful expression dimmed as he then stormed into the rainy morning without sparing another glance back.

Fin’s hands were on his hips as he watched the Lord disappear, his improved mood the previous days was in threat of decline. Giving his head a shake, the cook instead chose to focus on his work. He was beginning to cut up the rest of the fruit when a quiet knock from the castle door broke the tempestuous silence.

“What is it?” Fin called briskly as he kept his eyes on the oranges he was in the process of peeling. He was too absorbed with thoughts of Lord Piereva’s crazed look to think more about who could be visiting him at that particular ungodly hour of the morning.

Jiho stepped through the doorway looking tired and wary at the same time. The Zinferan Lord wore a deep blue silk vest that extended past his slim waist, tan trousers, and a snowy white tunic underneath. His hair was half tied back, though the small bun at the back of his head was less than immaculate.

Fin stopped his work after the two men locked gazes, then strolled over to his garden door and closed it firmly. He didn’t need any spectators for what was sure to be a less than comfortable conversation.

“Coffee?” Fin asked simply as he strode back to his table purposefully.

“Gods yes.” Jiho announced desperately as he stepped further into the room with his hands clasped firmly behind his back.

“What brings you to my kitchen before the sun is fully risen?” Fin set the clay mug down in front of the chair on the far left and waited as Jiho slowly seated himself.

“We hadn’t really spoken since you launched me into the woods,” the Zinferan explained shortly.

Fin pressed his lips together as he tried not to laugh at the flat tone Jiho had used.

“That is true. Though after getting a couple good shots in I thought we had resolved the matter,” the cook reminded dryly while smiling. He picked up his own coffee cup and took a drink as the fruit and knives began to magically take over his previous task.

“We dealt with how you were being an ass, yes. Though if I’m being honest, your resolve seemed quite deep to not to go after Lady Jenoure. I’m surprised it only took a room full of people lecturing you.” The Zinferan’s eyes were watching the redhead carefully as he sipped from his mug.

Fin smiled down at the table as he thought back to that fateful day.

Aside from his mother, he’d never had people rooting for him. Never before had a group of people come together to support and accept him, especially when he was being a dunce. If that could happen… why couldn’t even crazier things come about?

“I know the odds are in my favor when Hannah gets fired up,” he confessed, grinning and setting his cup back down. The day began to lighten outside the large round window and the rain continued its rhythmic pattering on the glass in the background of the conversation.

“Your blonde aide? I’ve been hearing the strangest stories about her from the Knights here at the castle,” Jiho speculated with a small frown.

“You two should chat more. She nearly killed a man with my frying pan, you’d like her.” Fin’s mild tone did little to fix Jiho’s alarm.

“She what?!”

“It’s fine, he was going to try and stab someone.”

Jiho closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.

“Why is everyone around you insane?”

Fin laughed and turned around to grab the very pan he had just referenced.

“Maybe it’s the water?”

The Zinferan snorted and set down his cup.

“By the way, how was it that you were conscious when I came back? Normally after blasting someone you sleep like the dead for nearly a day,” Jiho realized suddenly.

“Ever since coming here I think I’ve grown more powerful. Bigger house, more people to take care of… I think my abilities grew to accommodate me.”

Jiho leaned back in his chair thoughtfully.

“Ever think about what that could mean if, oh I don’t know, a war broke out?” At the redhead’s alarmed look, the Zinferan Lord continued. “Fin, do you think you’d be able to protect the entire castle if it became threatened?”

“That is a big uncertainty. I would not want the King to rely on that, only for me to pass out or worse after prolonged use.”

Jiho didn’t argue but there was a curious glint in his eye that Fin didn’t like one bit. Fortunately for them however, they were interrupted when Hannah, Heather, and Peter strolled through the castle door, followed by four drenched Knights entering through the garden door.

“Right, well I better leave you all to it.” Jiho stood and strode over to the door before casting a mischievous look over his shoulder. “Tonight’s the ball Fin, think you’re ready?”

Glancing at the faces of his aides, the cook saw their hopeful, firm, and trusting smiles.

“Not at all, but I’m going to try. I’m pretty sure you lot would kill me if I didn’t.”

“You’re not wrong.” Hannah’s deadly expression didn’t show any hint that she was joking.

Jiho looked at the small blonde with sudden interest.

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I am Lord Jiho Ryu.”

***

Sitting on a worn chair under the eaves of Fin’s cottage, Katelyn Ashowan had just polished off a sandwich for her lunch. She was just beginning to resume her work on sewing Fin’s clothing for the ball, when a shadow crept up over her hands. She peered up into the cool gaze of the black haired dark eyed man who was obviously a noble, and immediately her stomach twinged. There was a coldness in his eyes she had not seen since her husband staring at her as though she were prey, and it made her nauseous.

“Good day my Lord.” Katelyn bowed from her seat and hoped against all hopes he had no business with her.

“That there in your hands. The material looks finer than what a peasant should own.” The Lord cast an appraising gaze at the cream colored tunic the healer had in her hands.

“Ah well, I hold out hope that my son will be married one day. It’d be wonderful if he’d look as fine as his father did on our wedding day.” Kate pretended to smile innocently, but her uneasiness around the noble was growing far too rapidly.

“His father you say?” The Lord’s eyes shone, and Kate immediately regretted whatever it was she’d said to make him look like that.

“Yes. He’s no longer with us of course, but he was something fierce on our wedding day.” Kate could feel panic rising in her throat. What was this man on about?

“Odd that your boy doesn’t use his father’s name.” The Lord’s lips were curling at their corners and Kate thought she’d retch.

“You seem to have taken a keen interest in Finlay my Lord.” She observed while forcing an idleness in her voice that she did not relate to in reality at all.

“He is an interesting person. I hear he felled one of my Knights in two blows, and has beaten other Knights of Daxaria, yet has never faced any consequences. Odd that he doesn’t acknowledge he has ever had a father and prefers taking a woman’s last name.”

Kate could feel herself growing pale. She wanted to be away from the man as quickly as possible.

“As a mother I find my son to be a wonderful sort, as all mothers see their children. I must confess my Lord, I am still quite tired from my journey here, I believe I will retire for a nap. Good day.” Kate rose to her feet and dipped into a respectful curtsy.

She had only just risen when the garment in her hands was snatched from her.

“I would like to ask around the castle to confirm this wasn’t pilfered from anyone. If you’ve done nothing wrong, I will have it returned to you.” Then the Lord turned on his heel and strode away with his shoulders straight and his head held high.

As he retreated towards the castle with his black cape fluttering in the daylight, Kate’s hands tightened into fists.

“If the Goddess has any sense, that man will be punished for every misdeed in this life and the next.” She cursed angrily before storming into the cottage.

She couldn’t imagine what they were going to do for Fin’s clothing for the ball, but as she closed her eyes and took a steadying breath, she envisioned the crowd of faces all eagerly wanting to help her son.

She knew in her heart everything would be fine, and so her thoughts turned back to the Lord that had blackened her morning.

Katelyn Ashowan had grown out of leaving retribution to the fates every time someone deserved a good comeuppance, and so she began crafting her own plan of how to bestow vengeance on the Earl and remain unscathed.