Our trip back to Malagost was easy, running into no enemies inside nor outside the dungeon. We camped through the night and came out in one piece, returning back to the very same inn we had staked out as a base. There was only one goal left in mind. Getting an audience with Lord Montare.

“So… how does one actually meet with Lord Montare to give him his precious object?” I asked. We were gathered in one of our rented rooms, well-rested and ready to get back to business for the good of Titan City.

“Don’t look at me,” Mia said. I couldn’t help but feel it came out a bit defensively. I stared back at her, watching her turn away, flushed cheeks betraying the words hidden behind her lips.

“Mia, don’t bully Perry. He’s not aware,” Alain interjected.

“No, I’m pretty aware she doesn’t want me to look at her, Alain,” I replied. I refused to be shouted at by Mia again for looking in her direction.

“Javier, can you clear this all up before I injure myself in response to these words?” Alain said, falling backwards onto his bed.

“Mia…” Javier admonished, before turning back to me. “We have options, but we’re still exploring them. One that’s our last result— it’s not the end of the world if we do it, but it causes undue stress for the team. We’ll just start through the common channels. Requesting an audience outside of his manor.”

“Does that even work?” I replied.

Javier shrugged back at me. “We’ll see. Sometimes the simplest options end up working.”

“Alright, sure, but when are we going to go? Is there a best time to call on Lord Montare?”

“Perry. Perry. Perry. Don’t over think this. Just trust in me. I have a plan.” I certainly wasn’t going to argue with Javier over this. I just wanted to know. Was that too much to ask?

“Maybe if you believed in the doctrine more, you would be more at ease, Perry,” Vera interjected. Her hands were clasped together, eyes staring at me with a beaming smile.

“Maybe,”I replied, unwilling to get caught in her fishing. Vera was entitled to her opinions just as much as I was entitled to mine.

“To make things clear, we’ll go after lunch,” Javier said. “I figure he’ll be less likely to just push us away after eating. Something about a full stomach makes one more likely to listen.”

“I don’t know if that’s the case. After I eat I like to take a nap.” We stared at Alain, who looked like he was on the precipice of passing out, as it was. His eyes were shut, shirt riding up and yet he did nothing to push it back down. The effort required was out of his reach when he was so close to the realm of sleep.

“Well, we can’t just avoid talking to someone if eating is always a concern, Alain. Before a meal too hungry to think, after a meal ready to pass out, following that looking forward to the next meal. Is there ever a good time to talk to someone?”

“Nope, might as well not.” A quick flick to Alain’s forehead put a stop to that attitude, even if the repercussion was our cat man gingerly rubbing his tender brow.

We broke for lunch to diminish any tension from our own hunger, and reconvened on the streets, ready to go and make our way to the face of a politician, no matter his own desires.

The further into Malagost we went— directed by Alain’s seemingly endless fount of knowledge— the more luxurious the streets were. Bigger buildings, sharper fences, less signs of waste and filth. Even if the rest of the city was under the turmoil of a regime change, money still spoke and was seemingly enough to ensure a stable lifestyle for the exorbitantly wealthy.

In time we came to wait outside of a mansion, three stories high, marble pillars from the ground to the sky lining the entrance with the double-doors ensconced behind them. That of course, required one walking down a fair stretch of brick walkway, an island amidst the sea of grass. It was a luxury one wouldn’t think to see in a city.

At the very end was a gate guarded by two men, presumably loyal to their employer to still be working with them all this time. That would have to be our means of breaking through into the establishment.

The two looked quite similar, as though they were related. That, or being bulky, bald and of a similar height was enough of a family resemblance even for those that didn’t share blood. The key distinguishing feature was that the one on the left had a scar over his left eye, whereas the one on the right wore a beard. Otherwise they wore the same clothes and had the same scowl at seeing us staring vacantly at the manor.

“What do you want?” said the bearded guard.

“No loitering,” said the scarred guard.

“We’re not loitering. We’ve come here bearing a gift for an audience with your master,” Javier said. He quickly flashed the sphere from underneath his cloak, before hiding it back on his person. Even if the guards were near, it was a very precious item that those in the know would kill for. No need to invite any additional malice onto his person.

The bearded guard shook his head, seemingly unimpressed with our token. “That’s what everyone says, kid. Our lord doesn’t just visit anybody who says they have an object. Why don’t you try to make an arrangement through official channels before making up some garbage?”

“How would I make up having a gift? Knowledge of this dominion is highly guarded?” Javier sputtered, seemingly injured by being called a kid. His vanity was growing apparent at this interaction, unable to handle being called baby-faced underneath his goatee.

“Gifts are a dime a dozen,” the scarred guard replied. He didn’t continue. Evidently he was a man of fewer words.

Alain motioned for us to huddle together. “Do we think they just don’t know? Or are they going to rebuff us regardless because we look like a bunch of scruffy ruffians?”

“You look scruffy. I look pristine. Unlike you, I take care of my appearance,” Mia replied.

“Not helping,” Alain said, rolling his eyes.

Javier bit his lips, eyes flicking between us and the guards. “They’re probably not in the know about the true reason behind the audiences with the mercenaries, and even showing the gift meant nothing to them. Mia, we might want to push upon plan B.”

Mia grew pale at the suggestion, all color fleeing her face. “Can we not?” She said, each word a struggle to leave her lips.

“Only if this fails to work further. You know we’re on a tight timeline, Mia, and what things could come to. Of course, only if you’re okay with that in the end. We wouldn’t want to take away your autonomy.”

“Alright, Javier. Only if it fails to go further.”

He nodded back at her and broke out from our huddle. “Can we speak to your uh, head of house? The butler? Someone who works to arrange the meetings for your lord? He should be expecting us.”

It was a bold move to lie and say that we were expected, but Javier was nothing else if not a bold man. The guards conferred looks with one another, words traveling silently under their shared gaze. “Yeah, we aren’t doing that,” said the bearded guard. “Not allowed to leave our post. If you were expected, we would have had someone to pick you up.”

Shit. Mia balled up her resolution, bunched up fists by her side, stepping ahead of the rest of the group. “Amelia von Nonan is requesting an audience with Lord Montare. These are my retainers. Please do not hinder us further from our business with your employer.”

She fished out a necklace from under her shirt, a shining sparrow embossed upon the gold surface. The scarred guard’s eyes widened, and he ran off towards the house, leaving the bearded guard to gape back at us.

“Why don’t we wait here…” Beardly said. “Until my colleague returns.”

Perhaps we were making progress, or perhaps the scarred guard was going to fetch executioners. It was hard to tell until the matter resolved.

I pulled Mia, no, Amelia aside behind the rest of the group. “You’re a noble?” I whispered to her.

She blushed, putting away her necklace once more. “Don’t over think it. I’m still the same old Mia you know, and I’m serious. It’s already quite hard for you to think. Don’t hurt your head mulling over this much longer.”

I pretended to ignore her insult and nodded. She was a valuable member of the team, noble or otherwise, although that did lend a lot of answers to her previous behavior.

The scarred guard returned back with a man in a tailored uniform. He was a wizened man, weathered by the ravages of time. His face was frozen in a professional scowl, staring down at us even though he stood around Mia’s height. His brows sat at the top of his empty forehead. “Mmm, yes?

One of you is the noble scion of the von Nonans?”

Mia stepped out from behind Javier’s shadow, wearing a frozen grin. Through gritted teeth words slipped free of her mouth. “That’s me. I’ve come for an audience with your employer, given your loyal guards would not let us in to deliver a present unto Lord Montare.”

The man bowed deeply, head as low as his waist. “You have our utmost apologies, Lady Amelia. Lord Montare will be ready to receive you shortly. Please come with us into the reception room and enjoy some tea in the meantime.”

Mia nodded back, leading us through the doors of the mansion into the opulent inside. The columns continued to reach to the top of the mansion, paintings lined the walls and a grand stairway sat in the middle of the hall leading up to the second floor.

The manservant lead us up the stairs into a small room before popping back in with a set of saucers and teacups, along with a steaming teapot. He worked faster than I could have imagined to already have those items ready for our service. Lord Montare’s staff were of high quality and it showed.

"Sorry that you had to do this,” Javier whispered. “I genuinely couldn’t think of another avenue to get us in to see the man.”

Mia sighed, fixated on her lap. She took a cup of tea and started sipping at it. “What’s done is done. Can’t take it back now. No longer worth fixating on the incompetence required to make me reveal my parentage.”

The words stung ever so slightly, the barbs not meant to mar but present just enough so that one could not ignore it. We avoided any further discussion, taking refuge in the tea as a means of occupying our lips until the manservant returned.

“Lord Montare is ready to see you now. Please, follow me.” He didn’t wait for us to rise nor put down our teacups, our comfort secondary to his master’s whims.

We followed him through the winding house, catching up with a few purposeful steps until we arrived in another room. A man sat behind a desk covered in paperwork, the walls covered in shelves with endless amounts of books and other baubles, the walls coated with expensive looking artwork. This must have been his prized room, his precious belongings kept within it.

“Amelia, what a pleasure to meet you,” he said in a smooth croon. He had a sandy complexion, a thin black goatee covering his chin. Round glasses sat upon his sharp nose covering angular eyes, his charcoal hair coiffed neatly upon his head.

His attire spoke to his wealth, looking exquisitely well crafted like nothing I’d seen before. Clean pockets, many buttons and layers for ornamental rather than practical purposes.

“The pleasure is mine, Lord Montare,” Mia replied, giving a quick curtsy. Her gaze avoided his eyes, a power structure I couldn’t hope to understand yet.

“What brings you to my humble abode?” He asked, having not moved one inch from his seat. He thumbed over his paperwork, eyes flitting down to the desk more than it lingered on our party.

“My… retainers and I recently delved into a dungeon, and wished to give you a treasure from our efforts, if you would.”

Lord Montare stopped, looking up with full focus at our group, no longer putting on his causal affectations. We had caught his attention now, for all that was worth. “Why, that’s terribly kind of you, Amelia. I understand that you have a request of some sorts if you’ve come to pay me such a visit. Do you mind showing what you’ve excavated from the depths of the dungeon?”

Mia nodded to Javier, who peeled back his cloak and placed the strange sphere upon the desk. Lord Montare reached out, wordlessly asking if he could inspect it further. A sudden nod from Mia was all the confirmation he needed to take the object into his hands.

His fingers traced the contours carved into the sphere, studying the facets hidden within the depths of the device. He wore a quiet smile on his face, held enrapt by the gift before him. “What a marvel, whatever this is. Thank you for your tribute, Amelia. What can the Montares do for the Nonans?”

“I’d like to be clear, Lord Montare. This is not an action of the Montares for the Nonans. This is an action of Lord Montare for Lady Amelia von Nonan. What I would like is some understand of the changes that have swept through your fair city in the last few months, as the same activity seems to be ushering upon our own. What do you think about the recent changes?”

All of the color drained out of Lord Montare’s face upon hearing Mia’s revelation. He took the sphere and opened a drawer in his desk, storing it out of sight. “Ah, it’s been a most interesting time in Malagost. Very unexpected, but such is the wont of political movements. With enough zeal, they can pick up speed and overwhelm the status quo.”

“What have you done in response? Have you felt that it’s been affecting your family?” Mia said, gripping her legs through the fabric.

“Well, what can you do but adapt in these troubling times. The world is moving forward. You either move along or get out of the way.”

“How did your family adjust?” Mia said, almost shouting at Lord Montare. She stood up, hands balled by her sides.

“With effort and time, my dear. Of which I have very little of. You understand how it is, Amelia. Men cannot just sit idly while there’s work to be done. Thanks again for your generous gift. It will look great amongst the rest of my collection. This meeting has been ever so pleasant, but I must be upon my work again. You understand, of course?” His words lilted upwards in tandem with his manservant’s ushering us out of the room, not allowing us to demand any more time to talk with him.

The door closed behind us and we walked out, Mia ready to burst. “We fought hard in the dungeon and for what? Just to get a quick meet and greet with Lord Montare before he decided it was over?”

We had regrouped far enough to be out of earshot of the guards, unable to continue any further given Mia’s need to address the situation.

“I hate those kinds of nobles so much. You can see why I don’t like admitting I’m one myself, can’t you?” Vera hummed soothing noises, patting Mia gently on the shoulder.

“I can’t believe we’re already done. What are we supposed to do now, Javier?” I said. I looked to him for a response, but, well, he didn’t respond. It would have been hard for him to respond given he wasn’t here.

“Uh, where’s Javier?” I asked, swiveling around the street. “Did we lose him?”

“Sorry, was just finishing up,” Javier said, appearing out of the thin air. In the empty space of the street his body rippled into existence.

“Oh, so you did enact our backup plan,” Alain said. “I didn’t even notice your disappearance.”

“That’s what experience does, Alain. Only someone fresh would have been noticed. Someone new. Someone not used to clandestine operations.”

Alain pretended as though he wasn’t upset at the revelation, his face failing to hide his scowl. “So, what did you find then?”

“Not enough, I’m afraid. I found a paper trail of suspicious payments, but that’s not too different from what our audience was,” Javier replied, pulling out a piece of paper covered in numbers. “There’s no name, just an ‘x’ as an identifier, as you can see here. If there’s better evidence of his actions, it sure wasn’t in this page I took from his book, and I certainly didn’t have the time to scrounge further into his belongings in our exit from the premises.”

“Great. I had hoped we would have gotten enough from the mansion, but I guess that wasn’t the case. Only one person in town will freely— freely being a bit of a misnomer— give up that information. Guess we’ll need to stop by the black market for some more information.”

“Excuse me? The black market?” Javier said.

Alain’s scowl blossomed into a wide grin. “So I finally found out something you didn’t know then! The black market is where you can find illicit goods and information. In light of the current situation in Malagost, that’s going to be the only place we can find that info. It’s not going to be present anywhere else.”

“How did you even learn of it?” Javier asked, scratching at his head. I was wondering the very same thing.

“When we were off on our own, I overheard some discussion about it. That’s what my experience delivers, Javier. It didn’t seem relevant then, but now… I don’t see any other choice.”

“Fine,” I interjected. “Stop bickering, and let’s go find the black market.”