The butler watches me approach the mansion, bowing the entire time it takes me to walk up to the door. Her face is serious and her hair cut short, I wouldn't have taken that woman for a gossip if Cecil didn't tell me.

“Lady Elizabeth, my Lord Heir Patrick welcomes you into his humble mansion.” She speaks up, bringing her hand to her chest.

That's impressive considering Ass-face didn't know I was coming.

“Thank you...?”

“Sacit, Lady Elizabeth.” She replies with a small bow.

“Thank you, Sacit.” I nod.

The woman opens the door for me, stepping aside to let me in. The interior is richly decorated with tapestries and carpets, the crossing sword crest is everywhere even on the tablecloths.

I walk in with the butler behind me, she takes the lead and guides me along a corridor with paintings hanging on either wall. Scenes of battles and significant events for the Thrin family, one of them catches my eye as it depicts the morbid hanging and decapitation of a family of three.

“Lord Patrick's grandfather quelling rebellious elements, Lady Elizabeth.” Sacit informs me.

I look away, sickened to my stomach. I don't know what they did, but I doubt it warranted their execution. The butler guides me to a dining room, inside are three Nobles including the Lordling. They're dressed in quality clothes, blue and white tunics.

“My Lord Heir Patrick.” Sacit speaks up, attracting their attention. “Lord Steven.” She turns to the smaller man. “Baron Kruger.” A brawny man. “May I present to you, Lady Elizabeth Vil.”

“Lords.” I speak up, reluctantly inclining my head.

“Lady Elizabeth, a pleasure to meet you.” Patrick stands up, a bright smile on his face. I suppress the shudder that courses through my back.

The other two eye me with suspicion but don't seem too put off by my presence. I recognize Baron Kruger from the party last night, he was in the crowd.

“I've been told that you heroically escaped the Rykz, Lord Patrick.” I flatter.

“It was a desperate situation, I did the best I could.” He tries to reply modestly but his tone grows smug. “Our warning allowed the Duke to gather his forces.”

“Indeed, the Rykz would have won that battle if not for you, Lord Patrick.” I agree with a mocking smile, dissimulated by my mask.

“I was not alone and it cost me.” He swaggers, briefly bringing his left hand to his chest.

I don't look at the mutilated hand, I inspect his expression. He is acting proud but I can see that his traits are tense. I have to praise how he's using his wound to brag despite it being the cause of his current unstable situation. Trying to change the narrative around it, I suppose.

“Would you mind giving me some of your time, Lord Patrick?” I ask, bowing slightly. “I wish to ask for your expertise in regards to the Rykz.”

“I would be happy to answer any questions you have.” He replies with a twinkle in his eyes. “Sacit, take care of my guests while I discuss matters.” He turns to me. “Follow me to my office, if you will, Lady Elizabeth.”

“Of course.” I nod.

He leads the way to the other side of the mansion, to a large oak door with a lock. Patrick takes a key out and opens the door. We step inside, the room is rather large, there are many weapons hanging on the walls and a large painting of himself hanging behind his desk.

He points me towards a padded armchair in front of it while he settles in his own. I lay my hammer down and sit, taking a deep breath to prepare myself for the conversation.

“What would you like to know? I've studied these creatures since I escaped their grasp.” He speaks up.

“You've no doubt heard that we've made a deal with them, Lord Patrick.” I tell Patrick, implying that there are others besides me. “I wish to know whether they are trustworthy or not according to you, someone who has personally dealt with them.”

“The Rykz have never broken a peace treaty in the past, but I would temper that information by telling you that this war is different from the previous ones.” He says, not even blinking at the admission that I'm working with the enemy. “And let us not forget that the Empire is powerful, the creatures may have respected the treaties simply because they were dealing with a superior power.”

“We are indeed in a position of weakness compared to the Rykz, but you've said yourself that this war is different. They need humans and that gives us leverage.” I argue.

“The captured Princess, yes.” He nods. “That does work in your favor, but what can you do if they go back on their word once the creature is delivered to them?”

“You misunderstand, Lord Patrick.” I shake my head. “They need peasants, rulers.”

“What do you mean, Lady Elizabeth?” He asks, suspicious but interested.

“Simply that the Rykz aren't invading, they do not plan to occupy these lands, Lord Patrick.” I reply, giving him a tiny piece of the puzzle.

“They are retaliating, I am aware, but you seem to be implying something else.” He frowns.

“The Rykz aren't sufficiently implanted in the area to sustain themselves. Once the Izla falls, they'll need Nobles like us to manage the peasantry while they bring the war to the mainland. This is but an advanced base for them.” I explain.

Lord Patrick remains quiet, I feel my heart beat faster, hoping that he'll take the bait since it all hinges on this, on whether he is interested enough to ask for more information.

“That would put you under their thumb, you would be a vassal.” He finally speaks up, controlling his face to appear inexpressive.

“We will pay tribute.” I reply. “The Rykz care not for the land as long as we provide them with food.”

“But when the war ends, when they are defeated, you will be isolated and vulnerable, Lady Elizabeth.” Patrick taps his desk. “I don't believe that your faction would gamble on these creatures' victory.”

Shit. I lay back in my chair, faking the appearance of someone casually weighing her answers. He is too much of a maniac to believe that his side could lose. I need to convince him that he will benefit, regardless of the outcome.

“It doesn't matter who emerges victorious, Lord Patrick.” I tell him, laying my hand on the armrest. “It will take years for Caeviel to root the Rykz out. You've studied their methods of war, think of the damage they will do before that happens.”

“The Kingdom will be in ruins, King Cenwalh's coffers empty.” Patrick says thoughtfully. “And the Izla will be thriving, having had some time to recover.”

“Not recover, Lord Patrick, prepare.” I say, a victorious smile on my lips. “It won't only be the Izla, we will have administrative authority on all the land that the Rykz occupy.”

“What about the Empire's phalanxes?” He asks.

“They won't intervene, Lord Patrick.” I lie. “After all, the Rykz aren't conquering Caeviel. We are.”

“This is why you've supported the truce? You want to minimize damage to lands that you already consider yours.” Patrick laughs. “I knew she was too naive to believe that you would risk your life to save peasants. You are rightfully ambitious, Lady Elizabeth, your scheme may very well succeed.”

“Our scheme.” I whisper softly. “Think of it, Lord Patrick, years to prepare while these creatures shield us from King Cenwalh's wrath and all it costs is some food.” I pause to consider for a second. “Peasants can starve a little, it'll motivate them to work harder.” I add in a harsh tone.

Patrick nods in agreement without even marking a pause, without hesitation. I suppress the anger that his lack of reaction triggers, this is what I was looking for.

“A Kingdom ripe for the taking, but only for those who were smart enough to seize the opportunity when it arose.” I continue on.

“The image you're painting is tempting.” He squints his eyes. “But this will only happen if the Izla falls. There are plans in motion, the creatures may very well be stopped here, in Meria.”

That would mean that the war would turn into a siege of the twin mountain peaks, a deadly siege that could last a whole decade.

“We are aware. That is why I am speaking to you right now. Meria must fall before Caeviel can reinforce it.” I shrug casually, lying my ass off. “This is also to your benefit, in what state will your lands be when you inherit them if the war is fought on the Izla?”

“Disastrous.” He swallows his saliva. “No Kingdom has ever beaten back the Rykz without considerable sacrifice.”

“They lack food, Lord Patrick. The Rykz cannot sustain their entire army through the winter, that means that they will keep attacking the walls until Meria falls because every dead Rykz will mean one less mouth to feed.” I keep applying pressure. “They can always hatch more after all.”

“I wonder what you expect out of me, Lady Elizabeth, betrayal?” Patrick asks directly.

“No.” I shake my head. “I'm laying your options out for you. Whether you make a move or not is entirely your decision.”

“What's in it for me if I help your faction, a piece of land?” He frowns.

“A crown.” I reply calmly.

“A crown?!” He straightens in his chair, watching me intently.

“It'll be up to you whether you seize it or not. We are ambitious but not foolish, we won't bite more than we can chew. Southern Caeviel is enough for us, we'll stop there since the Kingdom won't be strong enough to challenge us.”

“Telnur taking advantage, I'm not surprised.” He mutters, annoyed. “How will that get me a crown?”

“That's up to you, we would be inclined to support a friendly group of Nobles replace a disgraceful King that allowed his nation to be devastated. If it is powerful enough, of course.” I incline my head.

“I need a power base, something I'm already struggling to assemble at the moment.” He replies, but I can see the greed and excitement he is trying to dissimulate.

“You're charismatic and you talk well, I'm sure that you can use what I've told you to your own advantage.” I flatter him. “If you fail, well, you simply weren't meant to wear that crown.” I shrug, unconcerned. “One has to seize one's destiny with one's hands, Lord Patrick.”

“You are correct, of course, Lady Elizabeth.” He nods, attempting to take a majestic posture in his chair, it looks forced and ridiculous to me. “I have a few questions.”

“That I'll answer another time.” I shake my head, standing up. “I believe you have the ability, but I require proof to convince the others.”

“What kind of proof, Lady Elizabeth?” He asks, theatrically rubbing his chin.

“Power, Lord Patrick.” I reply. “Show us that you can gather power around yourself and we will lend ours.” I seize my hammer and make it spin inside my hands. “I am a brute, Lord Patrick, impress those of us who make the plans and you'll gain our support.”

“I'll think on it.” He replies carefully. His hand is opening and closing, he doesn't seem to realize it. “Will you stay for lunch, Lady Elizabeth?” He asks with a smile. I shiver a little.

“It is regrettable, but I cannot. Caeviel mainlanders have decided that the truce isn't to their benefit so I have to watch myself, I would rather not provoke a bloodbath in the streets.” I reply honestly.

“I understand, the Duke is doing what he can but he is a minor figure compared to those of his rank that have larger domains. King Cenwalh should intervene, use his authority to prevent such things.” Patrick comments in a deep voice. “Truly a weak King that doesn't deserve the crown.”

I hurriedly suppress my rising giggle. He is already justifying his treachery to himself. Patrick leads me out of his study and through the corridors, showing me out of the door.

“It was a truly engaging and interesting conversation, Lady Elizabeth, feel free to come again.” He bows slightly.

“I will, Lord Patrick.” I also bow, forcing myself to keep the act. “I fully expect to be pleasantly surprised next time we meet.”

“We will see.” He nods.

I pick the most direct route south that I can find, eager to depart this part of the city that has more soldiers than people in it. Unfortunately, I haven't escaped notice, there are people following me.

Throwing a glance over my shoulder, I notice that there are at least three armed men behind me and a whole squad even further. I assemble some lion's step constructs and start running, heading straight towards the main street.

I don't use my full speed, focusing on maintaining my pace. I hear the three soldiers also accelerate and assume that the rest are doing the same but too far for me to pick up the sound.

They are catching up to me, I turn right into an alley and rush to reach the next one to make a left. I keep going until I emerge into the main street, the people on the sidewalks part in front of me, at first because of my speed but then because they recognize me. Fuck. I was hoping to lose them here. I hear my pursuers emerge out of the same alley.

“Make way!” One of them shouts. “I said, make way!” He repeats himself.

Curious about why he would, I look over my shoulder and notice that people are ignoring the order, simply going about their business. One of the men tries to force his way into the crowd but he fails to make it past a group of workers that pushes back.

“Watch where you're going.” One of them grumbles.

I slip in-between two carriages and cross the road while using them as cover, making a turn to take a side street. I keep running, choosing more deserted locations as more and more people seem to notice my mask. I stop in a shadowy corner, crouching. I enhance my hearing and listen to the city's noises.

After a few minutes, I allow myself to relax a little. A piece of cloth flaps in the wind. I look around but find no one. I stand up, adjusting my grip on my hammer, and approach the alley's corner.

I barely make a step before I feel a hit on my left shoulder, and then a piercing pain. I immediately flip around, swinging my hammer in a wide arc. A man dressed fully in black stoops low and my weapon passes over his head. He is holding a bloody stiletto in his hand, the problem is that the blood on it is brown and viscous. Shit, I need to kill him now.

I assemble a lion strike while making my hammer spin around myself to conserve the momentum. The man pounces forward, preparing to stab me with his thin dagger again.

I throw a messy side kick towards his torso, not caring about maintaining my balance. He hurriedly blocks it with his arm, taking hold of the leg with the other now that it's stopped.

He uses his grip to throw me to the ground. I activate the lion strike, my arms pick up speed and my hammer flashes forward. It catches the man by surprise, impacting him straight in the ribs. We both land on the pavement a second later.

Hhh-k hhk.

The man makes odd sounds as he suffocates. I hear footsteps approaching from an alley close-by. I hurriedly get back up, ripping the stiletto out of his hands to jam it inside the empty sheath on my belt.

There is a transparent liquid mixed with the brown viscous blood. Poison? I shiver but don't have time to waste wondering whether it'll work on my limb or not.

I glance at my shoulder, there is a hole in the hard leather armor but not much blood leaking out. It won't be visible from a distance under the chain-mail.

The limb intercepted a spear thrown at me, it should have been able to spot this assassin jumping down from the roofs. Or maybe it detected him too late to react because of the short distance?

I move slowly, bringing my hammer back and listening closely to the steps closing in to adjust my timing. A boot emerges at the corner, I throw my blow, a face follows a split second later.

His eyes are wide and panicked as they stare at the weapon, he raises his arms, forgetting the sword in his hand. My blind attack is aimed too wide so the hammerhead misses, but the bladed part of the handle under it slices through both arms along with half his throat.

He drops down like a puppet who's strings were cut, limbs flailing as blood flows out of the gaping wound, draining him with frightening speed.

“Egon!” Someone yells out.

I step around the corner, assembling a lion strike in the time it takes me to exit the shadowy corner I hid in. My last pursuer is staring at his dying comrade.

“How did you find me?” I ask.

“Fuck you!” He replies, raising his sword.

I step forward, activating the construct and throwing a fast swing, making use of my long reach. He squints his eyes, launching a downward attack with this weapon, so quick that it has to be the result of a construct.

It collides with my hammer, changing the direction of its arc downward. I use all my strength to pull it back to myself before it impacts the ground. The man takes a step back, inspecting the damage done to the edge of his blade.

“You don't need to die here.” I utter coldly.

“Traitor. I'll gut you here like a pig!” He spits out with hatred in his eyes.

“Hey! Both of you! What's going on here?!” Someone yells out.

I look over the man's shoulder, there is a patrol of soldiers that I recognize. They were following the three men earlier, I thought they were also chasing me.

“These three men tried to kill me.” I reply just loud enough, staying on my guard.

“This isn't over.” The man utters maliciously, slowly stepping aside, pressing his back against the alley's wall to keep as much distance as possible between us while he circumvents me. I assemble a lightning construct.

“Yes, it is.” I activate it. A bright bolt leaves the palm of my hand and strikes the man in his chest.

I don't stick around, turning my back on the soldier patrol running towards us and escape at full speed, leaving the convulsing assassin behind. Half of them keep pursuing me but they give up once I start using lion's step constructs.