Holding up a small mirror to his face, Dranor could scarcely hide his disgust as he stared at the repugnant visage of the man who'd hired him reflected on the other side.

These mirrors were a new invention of MagiTech, apparently. Dranor didn't know how they worked, nor did he care to know. He'd received this several days ago by a courier who'd somehow divined his location. Obviously, his employer was keeping tabs on him and knew how to reach him. That fact disturbed him greatly, but he wouldn't allow this man to know that.

"It has been nearly a month and you still haven't killed Erica Angelo," Count Gerosso said, his mouth twisting into a disgusted sneer. "The only reason I hired filthy elf trash like you was because your magic is the only thing currently around that can compete with a Sorceress's magic. I hired you expecting results, not a mass of failures. My patience with you is growing thin, elf."

The way the man said "elf" like it was some kind of insult angered Dranor. This man, this disgusting, filthy, greedy human had no right to insult his kind, not when he himself had so many flaws that it made the Spirit of the damned jealous.

Despite his anger and hatred, which bubbled within him like a cauldron beneath the surface of his skin, he kept his cool. He could not afford to blow his top, not now.

"We are working on it, however, killing a Sorceress is no easy feat. Such an undertaking is difficult. It would be impossible for anyone aside from myself to kill a Sorceress of Erica's caliber."

Dranor and Vanya had spent this past month gathering information on their target. Erica was a powerful Sorceress. If he had to judge her by class, then he would say that she was somewhere around the upper-middle class power-wise, which coincided with her age. The older a Sorceress was, the more powerful they became—unlike an elf, whose strength was determined from birth and never fluctuated. It was an almost unfair advantage.

"It seems to be impossible for you as well, since I still have yet see her head presented to me on a platter."

"And I have told you that it will take time to come up with a plan to dispose of her."

"I don't want to hear any of your excuses! I have given you ample time! Just hurry up and kill the woman already! If you do not kill her by midnight tonight, then I will not hand over a single drachma to you! I will hire someone else, someone more competent to complete the job that you obviously can't finish!"

As the magical mirror went blank, Dranor gave a furious roar and threw the object at the wall, shattering it into millions of tiny fragments.

He panted for breath, his shoulders and chest heaving as his angered flowed out of him, until a pair of arms wrapped around his middle and a body pressed against his back. Within the embrace of his mate, Dranor could not help but relax.

"That man frustrates me to no end," he said, his calm voice at odds with his words and previous actions.

"That is understandable. He is a rather repulsive being. I do not enjoy working for him."

"I know." Dranor sighed and leaned further into Vanya's embrace. "I am sorry. If we could find work with anyone else, you know that I would drop him in a heartbeat. But..."

"We can't. Very few people would hire an elf." Vanya smiled sadly into his neck. "I know. It is why I haven't tried to dissuade you." Dranor did not say anything, leading her to continue. "What should we do? We're not going to get another chance to kill Erica by tonight. She has not left the sanctity of her tower since her return from the Avrondale Mines."

Dranor grimaced. It was true. Ever since her return home, Erica had not left the tower, not even to go shopping. This was not unusual, however. From what Dranor had gathered by listening to people speaking in the taverns, Erica would often hole herself up in Dorehan Tower, sometimes for several months. No one knew what went on in there, though rumors abounded about what the Sorceress did in her free time, as rumors were wont to do.

"Then we will just have to take her out on her home turf." He grimaced. Although he would have the advantage in an enclosed space where Erica wouldn't be able to summon her more powerful Spirits, he did not find the idea appealing. The thought of challenging a Sorceress in her own home unsettled him.

"What of the Sorceress Council?"

"With luck, we'll be long gone before anyone even realizes that she's dead."

Dranor was confident that he could defeat Erica. His disposition towards fighting in her home aside, the situation favored him. His elven magic would be more versatile indoors than her Spiritual Evocation. It would not be difficult to kill her and flee before the council even had an inkling as to what happened.

Only one problem stood in the way of the absolute surety in his victory.

"Can you take care of the boy?"

That boy, the one called Caspian. He was a very skilled swordsman, from what Dranor had seen of his talents. What's more, there was something odd about him that Dranor couldn't place. He felt familiar and yet distinct at the same time. His presence within nature held a unique flavor that Dranor had never felt before. This inability to figure out what the boy was irked him—even more so because Caspian stood in his way.

"Of course. Just leave him to me," Vanya said, though he knew that she did not feel enthused about killing, especially killing one so young. His mate was not like him. She did not have the hardened heart that he did. Fighting, killing, destruction. These things hurt her.

Dranor felt regret gnaw at his stomach like an insipid grout worm. He pushed it away, however, knowing that to regret now would do him no good. All he could do was continue pushing forward. With luck, they would not be forced to kill again after this.

Too bad Dranor didn't believe in luck.

***

Cassidy hummed an off-key tune as she went about her duties as a maid, which included preparing Erica's meal for the day—or rather, bringing the meals to her mistress, since Cassidy couldn't cook to save her life.

It was something of a sore point for her. As a maid, she should have been well-versed in cooking. She wasn't, however. In fact, she was awful at cooking. She remembered the one time she had tried cooking a meal. Not only had she somehow managed to set water on fire, but she had destroyed nearly two-thirds of the kitchen. After that, Erica had forbade her from making food and instead delegated her to simply serving it.

A blow to her pride as a maid, that's what it was.

The sound of something suddenly hitting hard wood with a dull thud scared Cassidy into nearly dropping her mistress's food. Luck appeared to be on her side this time, as she managed to catch it before the yogurt parfait spilled all over the counter, but it was a near thing.

Turning around to locate what had caused such a loud noise, Cassidy was greeted to the sight of Caspian. That he was the person behind her did not surprise Cassidy. He had been showing up in the kitchen nearly every morning to get breakfast before going to the training hall. What did surprise her was the hour. He normally woke up much earlier than this.

His head was also planted face first on the table.

He looked worn out—dead on his feet even.

"Um, are you alright, Master Caspian?"

"Ngg..." Caspian moaned, then lifted his head. Cassidy nearly yelped when bloodshot eyes stared at her from beneath a red fringe of hair. She also almost dropped Mistress Erica's breakfast... again.

Calming down, or trying to at least, she asked, "w-what's wrong, Master Caspian? You seem, uh, tired."

"Nothing." Caspian blinked. Large bags hung under his eyes. "Nothing at all. I just didn't get much sleep last night."

"Oh..." an awkward pause filled the air. At least, Cassidy thought it was awkward. Caspian didn't even seem to notice, busy as he was rubbing his eyes. She set the tray down. "So, um, why didn't you get much sleep?"

"Do you really have to ask?" Caspian groaned. "That damn woman kept me up all night. You'd think someone as vain and prissy as Erica would enjoy her sleep more. I had always assumed that women such as Erica enjoyed their 'beauty sleep,' but I was apparently mistaken. She stayed up all night last night, and she kept me up all night, too. She said that if I didn't spend the entire night with her, it would be a dereliction of my Knightly duties. Can you believe that?"

"A-all night?!" Cassidy squeaked. Her face turned red as her mind quickly worked out what she felt was the most likely scenario for what happened last night.

"Oh, Caspian, you're not getting any sleep tonight," Erica said, wearing nothing but skimpy lingerie.

"That's okay," Caspian's smile was more seductive than a high class male prostitute's. "I don't mind not getting any sleep, provided you can keep me entertained."

"I believe that is my line." Erica shifted, tracing a finger down the low-cut V of her lingerie, revealing tantalizing hints of her bosoms. "Entertain me, Caspian."

"With pleasure."

Caspian went down on Erica, whose lustful moan filled the bedchamber.

"Oh, Caspian!"

"Cassidy? Hello? Cassidy, are you still with me?"

"Gya!" Cassidy shrieked, furiously waving her hands in front of her face. "I swear to the Spirits, I wasn't imagining you vigorously taking Mistress Erica in her bedchamber! I promise!"

"... Okay," Caspian said slowly, as if not quite sure what to make of that statement. "I think I'm going to just pretend you didn't say that."

"Thank you," Cassidy murmured, looking down at the tray in her hands. Curses. Why was she even holding this? Now she couldn't cover what was surely a cherry red face!

"Is that for Erica?" Caspian asked, gesturing to the tray of food.

Cassidy was thankful for the question, as it allowed her to get back on track. "Yes, it is."

"I hadn't realized it was so late," Caspian muttered, his tired eyes becoming unfocused. He looked like he might collapse.

"Perhaps you should get some rest," Cassidy suggested. "You look like you're about to fall asleep on your feet."

"Can't." Caspian stood up, yawning. He swayed a bit, but swiftly regained his balance. "I've got a job to do."

"Do you really need to stay by Mistress Erica's side all the time?" Cassidy asked. She wasn't jealous of her mistress. Really, she wasn't. She most certainly didn't feel envious that her mistress had someone so dedicated to keeping her safe. Not at all. She just didn't like how hard her mistress worked Caspian. The poor young man was clearly exhausted, and yet he still remained near her at all times, working tirelessly to ensure that she was cared for.

Yes, it was just concern for Caspian. This wasn't jealousy. Certainly not.

Nodding to herself, Cassidy reaffirmed that she wasn't jealous.

"Yes," Caspian answered simply. "It's a Knight's sacred duty to protect the Sorceress they serve. Erica might not be my true Sorceress, but she has currently contracted me to be her Knight until Derek is recovered enough to take up his post again. Until that time has come, I will do everything within my power to protect her, even if it means putting up with her twenty-four hours a day."

"So, it's just a matter of obligation, then?" Cassidy inquired, curious to know his answer.

Caspian managed to hide his blush with a shrug. "More or less."

Cassidy sighed in relief. "That's good."

"Did you say something?"

"N-no. Nothing at all."

Caspian eyed Cassidy for a bit longer, causing her to squirm in place. However, he eventually shrugged and headed for the exit.

Together, the two of them made their way to Erica's room.

It was just another day in Dorehan Tower.