“The Mercantile Association controlled trade in Illyria, with branches in every city and province.

The Adventurer’s Guild is filled with explorers and pioneers. They delve the deepest mysteries of the world, many of which are better left alone.”

Chapter 32

Wil had a wide, fake smile plastered on his face as he greeted Margaret. “But what are you doing in East Haven? Term doesn’t end for a few more months!”

“Oh, I’m visiting mother for several weeks. She wrote to tell me she was feeling terribly lonely and wished for me to visit. I left the academy as soon as possible to keep her company.” She explained.

She leaned in and whispering to Wil dramatically. “Just between us, I believe Mother has reached an agreement with Count Herrington for a match between James and I!” She giggled excitedly, hiding her laughter behind her hand.

Wil widened his eyes with feigned surprise, laughing along enthusiastically. “Congratulations! Although it pains me to know that I no longer have any hope of capturing your heart for myself!” Wil exclaimed, holding a hand against his chest, as if it greatly pained him.

“Oh stop, you’re a horrible liar Wilhelm!” Margaret said, playfully slapping Wil on the arm. “You’re utterly hopeless at commitment. You’ll need to be dragged kicking and screaming to the altar.”

She paused, before placing a finger against her lips, as if something had just come to her mind.

“In fact, I heard an interesting rumor regarding you before I left the capital! I heard that your father had finally had enough and sent you off into hiding while he looked for a betrothal match.” She giggled at the thought.

“Did he? That’s news to me!” Wil said, waving off the comment as if it were baseless rumors.

“Then why are you here Wilhelm? Are you sowing your wild oats before your future bride locks you away for good?” She leaned in, grinning evilly at the thought of the juicy story standing before her.

“Nothing of the sort! I’ll have you know that I traveled to Whitewater to assist with their defenses last Night. It pained me to hear about their plight when I was in the capital, so I hopped on my horse and rode to their aid!” Wil said, throwing out his cloak and striking a pose so that it billowed dramatically.

“Indeed? How heroic of you Wilhelm. You must have been in terrible danger!” She exclaimed, her eyes wide open and hands gripped together in fright over his wellbeing.

“Only a minor scuffle.” He lied, downplaying the threat to Whitewater for Margaret’s benefit. He didn’t want to discuss his experiences there with anyone, least of all her.

“But afterwards, I met Miss Quentin here and was immediately smitten by her!” He said, deflecting the conversation away from Whitewater and onto the issue of the caravan’s robbery.

Quentin opened her mouth angrily, about to tell the other woman the truth. That Wil was a hired guard, and they were not in any relationship whatsoever.

However, before she could speak, Wil, who was standing beside her, quickly put his arm around her shoulders and subtly stepped on her toes with his foot. A subtle reminder to play along with the ruse.

Quentin understood the signal and decided to trust him. She closed her mouth and smiled towards Wil, who was continuing to spill lies to Margaret.

“Typical you, falling in love at first sight with every pretty woman you see!” Margaret said, shaking her head at his antics.

“Love has never steered me wrong! And in this case, it led me to agreeing to purchase all the remaining relics that the lovely Miss Quentin was carrying to the capital. On my father’s behalf, of course.”

“Your Father is interested in Khmerian relics and magical items as well? Mother is an avid collector and I have never heard her mention the Earl’s interest in them before.” Margaret asked, tilting her head in confusion and doubt.

“It’s true that Father isn’t an admirer. But my cousin has expressed his interest in items related to Khmer’s God King. With his birthday approaching, Miss Quentin’s relics would make a perfect gift to him.”

“Your cousin…The Crown Prince!” She practically shouted, shocked at the revelation.

Wil nodded sadly. “Indeed, but sadly with the robbery, Father and the Prince will both be disappointed at the loss. But not to worry, Margaret, I will assure them both that House Ashworth has done everything in its power to right this travesty.”

He let out a deep sigh, as if the world were ending now that the items were gone.

Quentin stared at Wil in shock, not having any idea what he was talking about. The relics were going to be sold at auction in the capital, not given to any Prince and certainly not by Wil’s Father.

Her head was spinning from trying to understand the reason behind the web of lies that Wil was spinning.

“Of course, we are! That is why I rushed down here right away! Captain, you are to investigate this immediately. I want the stolen items returned and the thieves hung!” She commanded the House Guard Captain standing nearby.

The captain, wearing the Ashworth House colors, saluted and entered the warehouse. A large group of guards followed behind her.

Margaret was practically shaking with anxiety as the realization that items to be gifted to the Crown Prince had been stolen in a city her family was responsible for. The implications could be terrible for House Ashworth if they didn’t find the truth about what happened. The needed to either get the items back or foist the blame on someone else. Preferably both.

“I’m afraid it will be complicated, Margaret. My guards have captured the merchant responsible for bribing the warehouse guards, but he will not reveal the truth. He mocked me, saying that I had no authority here.” Wil said, shaking his head.

“I will see to this Wilhelm, please trust me to get to the truth of this matter. I promise to have answers for House Brookmoor.” She swore to him.

Seeing Wil’s nod, she ordered that the captured men and women be interrogated, and information brought to her as soon as possible.

Margaret’s carriage pulled away from the warehouse and travelled up the street. It was followed by her guards and the tied prisoners. Wil turned to Quentin with a grin on his face, his arm still around her shoulders.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Quentin elbowed him in the ribs, hard. While he clutched at his side and gasped for breath, she proceeded to shove him onto the ground.

Wil fell onto the muddy ground. He was out of breath from both the pain and his laughter at her reaction.

“That’s for lying and saying we’re in love! How could that possibly help me get my relics back?” She yelled at Wil, pointing a finger in his face as he lay gasping for air on the ground.

“If you would just calm down and listen for a minute, I have a perfectly sound reason for everything I told her.” Wil said.

He finally recovered some of his breath and climbed slowly to his feet. He looked down at his mud-covered clothing, before waving his hand. He used a cleaning spell to remove the dirt and stains.

“Well? I’m waiting?” Quentin asked. Her arms were crossed, and she was all but tapping her foot with impatience.

“I told her that I was smitten by you, because…” Wil said, before walking up close to Quentin and leaning his face towards hers. He stared directly at her with his big blue eyes.

“It’s true!” He said as he smiled shyly at her. He puckered up his lips before leaning in even closer.

Quentin’s face flushed a deep shade of red and Wil’s smile began to grow wider. Their lips almost touched before her fist connected with his eye. In a flash, he was back on the ground, lying in the mud.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The pair sat in Quentin’s room, with her sitting on the bed and Wil in the chair by the writing desk. Quentin’s face was still red with anger and Wil was sporting a magnificent black eye.

It had taken awhile before Quentin had calmed enough for Wil to explain. They needed to speak in private about their next steps, so she eventually agreed to go back to the Inn.

Wil had stopped into his room long enough to grab a wet cloth before joining her in the room.

They sat in silence, Wil cast a minor spell to cool the wet cloth before folding it and placing it against his eye. He signed in relief as the cold cloth relieved some of the pain.

Quentin watched him the whole time as her hands tightened into fists and she eventually lost her patience.

“Well?” She said, standing and pacing the room. She was tempted to slap the cloth out of his hand and it frustrated her that Wil would probably just laugh it off even if she did.

He let out another sigh before he looked at Quentin and held up his free hand.

“I’m sorry I told Margaret that we were in a relationship, but I assure you, that was the only way we were ever getting those relics back.”

Quentin sat back down on the bed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Why would our…involvement… get them back?”

“Because, once Margaret got involved, we needed a story she would believe. Look, I’ll explain everything, but we’ll need a certain level of trust for this to work. You need to believe that I have your best interest at heart.”

Quentin took a deep breath, before she spoke. “Ok, I’m listening.”