“And you won't have to. You just have to deal with me.” Vallerian shook his head. “So how much of a disaster was your last meeting with the girl?” Vallerian asked, expecting some terrible consequences.

“She talked circles around and me and used my girls against me. She’s far shrewder than I would have thought.” Tabitha shook her head and clicked her tongue. “But now I find myself in a rough situation. One that perhaps the Healer's Shadow could assist with.”

“The Healer's Shadow?” Vallerian asked. The name wasn't too bad, but he wasn’t sure what it had to do with him.

“People have noticed that those who attack the little Fershya girl who runs around town healing, tend to end up dead.” Tabitha snapped her fingers, and the older lady who ran the place moved towards a small bar. “It didn’t take me long to figure out that must be you. It certainly wasn’t the priest at any rate.”

Vallerian froze. He was getting a reputation, and that was not good. His teacher had warned him about drawing too much attention. “I don’t kn…”

“Don’t play stupid with me. I need someone talented at disposing of problems, and I can't send any of my girls.”

“Change of heart?” Vallerian asked with a smirk. Tabitha scoffed.

“Verbally binding contract with a Prophetess.” Tabitha shook her head. “She promised to lend me her support, but in return I can’t strike out at my enemies anymore. And believe me, I have plenty.” She reached out and grabbed the goblet of wine the older woman brought for her. Her hand made a fist around the goblet's neck.

Vallerian studied her, there was a question he had been wanting to ask her, and this seemed like the only chance he'd have something she wanted.

“So you want me to take care of these rivals of yours?” Vallerian asked, finally shifting to a relaxed posture of his own. “That can be arranged.” He had no love for Southshore gang lords, and if it furthered his standing with Crysilla as well as Tabitha, well all the better he figured.

“The problem that’s growing is…” Tabitha began, but Vallerian cut her off with a raised hand.

“I have question for you first.” Vallerian asked. Tabitha bit her lip, but motioned for him to go on. She seemed particularly displeased at being cut off. “What, precisely, do you intend with our dear Prophetess?”

Tabitha studied him for a moment, then lifted back the hair that covered half her face. A small black tattoo, a tear drop, right beneath her eye. “I’ve lived my life ruled by men.” Tabitha eventually began. Vallerian recognized the tattoo, and suddenly a lot more about Tabitha made sense to him. She was a child of the Pits. “From the moment I was born, I was used for their games. Born to a world with a king who rules over other men who rule over women. We are beneath them all, dirt beneath your fancy boots.” She shook her head. “Too long have women been at the end of the rope, pulled behind by their wrists.”

Vallerian blinked at her, had she rehearsed that little speech? “You actually want her to be queen then.” Having gotten to know her, the idea of Celeste on the throne seemed odd to him. Looking at Tabitha now though, he could see the appeal for someone like her.

“Oh, no.” Tabitha smiled. “Want has nothing to do with it Vallerian. She will be queen, by her own machinations or by that of the Bishop. But she will be.”

Vallerian studied her. Celeste taking the throne was not an impossibility, but how this Tabitha could be so sure of that little girl was odd to him. “You seem confident in this.”

“Count Vallerian, look at me.” She flourished her hands as if to make a point. “I have not clawed my way up in this world by strength. I have outsmarted every bumbling fool of a man I have come across. I have turned every woman I could to my cause, brought them under my wing. But that girl, without even thinking twice of it, outsmarted me in less time than you and I have spoken now.” Tabitha clicked her tongue and shook her head. “She is brilliant, and when that girl takes her throne, I will be on her council.”

Vallerian nodded in understanding. This woman was even more clever than he had pegged her for. Who could imagine a child of the pits rising to the King’s Council. Nay, the Queen’s Council. However much Vallerian thought her expectations misplaced, he admired her drive.

“Then I am at your service, madame.” Vallerian answered and Tabitha formed a sly smile.

“I thought you would be.” She fished a small piece of paper out from within her doublet and held it out for him. Vallerian rose and grabbed it from her. Opening it, he found a list of names. “Those are my rivals. I’m sure a man such as yourself can track them down on that alone. The girl made it so I can’t have blood on my hands anymore. So, consider yourself my gloves.”

“She can never find out I did it.” He added.

“She can never find out it happened at all.” Tabitha corrected. Good, they were on the same page about this whole thing.

“I’ll take care of it, but when the time comes...”

“She will have all my resources behind her, whether she wants them or not. She will need it.” Tabitha smiled and rose from her seat. “I must say, as far as men go Count Vallerian, you’re not the worst.”

“How flattering.” He bade her farewell and headed out the door.

Breathing the fresh air, that crisp clean that comes after the rain has faded, Vallerian felt a sense of triumph. Now the support of that woman was properly secured, and he could return to his mother-in-law. He stepped forward and a dagger flashed towards his neck. Reaching up as quickly as possible, he grabbed his attacker’s hand at the wrist, stopping the blade less than an inch from his throat.

“You’re getting better.” A familiar voice. Vallerian breathed slightly easier at the sound.

“It’s nice to see you as well, my dear.” Vallerian responded, loosening his grip on her wrist. With his hand relaxed, she nicked his throat slightly before pulling the blade away. Vallerian cursed aloud. “You know, most Terminian wives would be elated to see their husbands for the first time in a fortnight.” Vallerian rubbed at his neck, a small smear of blood crossed his hand.

“Even when they’re coming out of a whorehouse?” She asked. Vallerian finally looked to his wife. She was dressed casually, if you could call anything a Theremya wears ‘casual.’ A loose flowing silk gown with metal bands at the wrist to keep the cloth away from her hands. Her hair was done up with metal spikes that in a moment could be used as a weapon. Even her long straight skirt was made to stay out of the way, a long slit up the side slightly revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her thigh.

“You don’t really think that if I wanted to whore I would do it here, do you?” he snapped back. “Besides, my only interest was in the Jöln girl.”

“Never would have thought you into that type.” She already grinned at him when he shot her a dirty look. “The slum lord I assume?” Lyleria asked. “How is that going?” She turned and started walking away, and Vallerian did the only thing he could. He followed.

“Well, I believe. She seems to have bought into the whole excitement around Her Radiance.”

“And you haven’t?”

“Count me a skeptic for now. The girl seems more concerned with feeding the poor than ruling the rich.” He shook his head. “Why are you here Lyleria?”

“Mother.” She responded in a clipped tone. Vallerian sighed, of course it was. She couldn’t just be here because she missed him. That would be a normal marriage. Did he really want that though? “She grows impatient with your progress.”

“If she had anyone else who could do better, then be my guest.” He shrugged.

“You don’t want to be saying that husband.”

And she was probably right. But after a long day of being pushed around by women, the idea of Crysilla doing it from afar irked him. “I have a lead. I might be able get Tabitha into our debt.”

“Ours or the girl's?”

“Ours.” He clarified. “She has asked me to take out a few of her rivals, people she can’t touch herself anymore.”

“Trouble?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” He shook his head. Where were they going? Lyleria was taking the lead on their walk, but they were moving off to parts of Southshore he had never been.

“What of the girl? Is she going to make a claim?” Lyleria asked. Vallerian pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Gods only know with her. I’ll see what I can do. Though I do have an idea. Could you source me some treatises on political philosophy? The stuffier the better I’d guess.” He asked and Lyleria nodded.

Rounding a corner, Lyleria stopped in front of a tall rickety looking shack. A sign out front marking it as an inn of sorts.

“This is our destination.” She told him.

“What? What for?” He asked.

“Mother demands an heir, and I intend to produce one.” She moved towards the building and he gulped. Just once he would like to know what went through that woman's head, though that was likely to be scarier than he could imagine. But watching her hips sway as she walked into the inn, he simply followed.