The worker coughed and looked around. “I’m sorry, sir,” he ducked his head as if to weather a physical blow. “What’s this about?”

Grev’s stern expression gave nothing away. “That’s what we’re going to find out. What’s your name?”

“Um, Geir,” he replied, glancing at Grevor. “Sir,” he added. Though he was of darker skin than almost any Elusrian Ranvir’d ever seen, his flush was clear enough.

“And in what capacity are you here for?”

Geir looked at Grev in confusion, glancing at the others, then at the guards. “I don’t… I—”

“What kind of work do you do?” Grev corrected, mild annoyance in his voice.

Ranvir frowned at his friend. Though he’d only known Grevor for a year, he’d never known the light tethered to be short-tempered, or particularly rude. He’d always seemed even keeled and calm beneath his flippant attitude.

Evidently, Ranvir wasn’t the only one who noticed this. Es was doing his best to hide his expression, but couldn’t quite halt his glare toward Grevor. His hands knotted into fists at his side.

Geir sensed the hostility in the room and swallowed, visibly paling. Ranvir stirred to put a hand on his friend’s shoulder, but couldn’t do so without awkwardly drawing his wings aside. Instead, he nudged him with his tether-sense, infusing it with calm.

Es blinked and glanced over his shoulder at Ranvir. Inhaling slowly, he nodded.

“I’m a laborer with one of the supervisors you, or eh… the house hired for the party,” Geir elaborated.

Ranvir gently examined him with his tether, but the man was as dull as any other. He likely wouldn’t have felt any, but the roughest touch Ranvir was capable of.

“Thank you, Geir,” Grev said, walking around the kitchen. He stopped by the poisoner and gestured to him. “If you would come over here, my man’s going to smell you to see if we can find any scent trails on you.”

“Scent trails?”

Geir walked unsteadily towards them. Ranvir focus his Perception on the man as well, and inhaled slowly. His power would bring Geir’s scent to him. The musk of sweat, a slightly sour smell from someone who needed a bath, old wood, and metallic oils. The smells Ranvir would expect from a laborer whose job it was to haul.

The poisoner shook his head and Grev stepped away. “Thank you, Geir. Why were you in the kitchen earlier?”

“Like I told the other guards,” the Geir glanced behind him at the men standing near the exit. “I was helping the baker. She needed some things moved out of the kitchen. Just some boxes that’d been placed here temporarily. They were already empty.”

Grev narrowed his eyes and nodded. “You speak with a slight accent, and your coloring suggests you’re not from the city.”

Ranvir frowned. He hadn’t noticed the accent. Though, now that Grev mentioned it, the slight twist to certain words became clear. It had been too long since Ranvir’d been in here.

“That’s correct, sir,” Geir licked his lips. “I was born in an unnamed village near the border to Ankiria. When Ankiria broke apart, I took that as an opportunity to get away. Moved ahead of the fugitives. That’s where I met…” he paused and blushed. “It doesn’t matter,” he scratched the back of his neck and looked down. “It’s just… I really need this job, sir. With the little one on the way and all.”

Esmund made a choked noise in the back of his throat. Grev nodded along. Ranvir frowned as the blond light tethered dry-washed his hands, then offered one to Geir. “Thank you for your cooperation. I’ll let you get back to work.”

Geir took it, flinching and retreating.

“I’m sorry,” Grev said apologetically, offering a handkerchief to him. “I can get nervous during these interrogations.”

Geir smiled nervously and dried his hands on the cloth. Before he could offer it back to Grev, the poisoner stepped forward to accept it. Geir smiled and nodded before scrambling out of the room as fast as he could.

“What was that?” Es asked. “You were treating him like he was guilty.”

“He could be,” Grev said, accepting a napkin and drying his hands again. “We don’t know. He wouldn’t be the first assassin the Purists sent our way with an elaborate backstory. It might even be true. That won’t make him any less of an assassin though,” then under his breath. “And it won’t stop me sending him to the Downway.”

Ranvir licked his lips and stepped forward, angling away from the guards to place his human hand on Es’ shoulder without revealing too much. “He has to be careful, Es,” he squeezed slightly before relaxing. “We caught it early, but this could well have ended with someone dying.”

“My brother,” Grev corrected. “It could’ve ended with my brother dying.”

Es looked at the tiled kitchen floor, gnawing at his lip. “It just doesn’t sit right with me.”

“Sure it does,” Grev said coldly. “This just isn’t close enough to you. We already know what would happen if they came for Kirs again.”

Ranvir didn’t need to look at Esmund to feel him seize up. From his spirit and all the way through to his spine, it was like he’d been caught in a winter storm. Frozen solid. Small red fires of annoyance at Grev sparked within Ranvir and he looked up at the noble tethered.

“He is not the one attacking your brother,” Ranvir said. Part of his spirit slipped his hold. A slight wind blew out the opened windows as the air grew damp with moisture. Ranvir reined it back before anymore could come of it, but Grev had clearly felt it.

“Are you taking me back?” A distant voice asked. “I cannot imagine what my savior stopped, but if you’re taking me to him,” the woman’s voice deepened. “Please… Leave us alone.”

“I’m going to check on my children,” Ranvir said.

“Smart,” Grev said slowly and nodded to the guards. Ranvir deliberately walked out, hearing the door shut moments before the entrance to the mansion opened.

“Where is he?” then with deep regret. “Oh, no! He hasn’t gone already, has he?”

Ranvir scanned for his children, finding them playing towards the back of the gardens underneath a massive oak tree that hadn’t yet been decorated. Walking through the yard of cultivated flowers and plants would’ve been a riot of color before the preparations. With blooming flowers in vivid red, yellows, and whites predominant, other plants had been spread for their scents, floral and intense to the point of overwhelming Ranvir’s Perception. The additional adornments added arrangement to the ataxia of nature’s natural improvisation.

In the distance, Ranvir could hear Ambassador Macey swooning over something or the other, sounding like she was about to die. There was very little chance she was behind the attempted poisoning and he would rather avoid an encounter with her again.

He stopped some distance from his children, letting them have their privacy. Frija and Dalla were playing with Menace, appearing to inspect the kitten’s health and also petting it thoroughly. The cat lazed in the shadows and let the children work. Vasso had sat himself against the trunk and pulled out his book. He occasionally had to field a question from Frija or Dalla, but otherwise seemed content to read.

Ranvir scanned the rest of the grounds, noticing a decently sized shed a little way away from the oak. He was surprised to find it outside its shadow. Often they’d be built underneath a tree’s canopy to avoid it getting too hot. If not for the potency of light mana inside it, Ranvir would’ve been willing to dismiss it as noble nonsense.

Stretching out his senses, he got little more than the light mana from his spirit, but Perception picked up far more awful things. Narrowing his gaze, Ranvir turned to look at the kitchen and the man carrying out an interrogation. It seemed to be winding down, anyway.

Vasso approached him then. “Is everything okay?” he asked. Ranvir blinked at his perceptiveness.

“Just a little trouble with the cake,” he said dismissively.

Vasso winced. Maybe Ranvir hadn’t been dismissive enough. “It’s not… Nobody’s hurt, right?”

Ranvir shook his head. “Nobody’s hurt. Everything will be fine. There’s just a few things that have to be sorted out.”

“Are you sure?”

Ranvir nodded. “Stone certain.”

Vasso nodded and walked back to the tree.

Rolling his head, Ranvir waved at Frija and Dalla. Frija waved back eagerly and Ranvir trod toward the mansion. Walking toward the mansion’s entrance to the kitchen, he caught the tail-end of the interrogation.

“Ugh, what is wrong with your hand?” Ambassador Macey exclaimed. “That is horrible, Tethered Grevor. You need to get that looked at!”

“I apologize, Ambassador Macey,” Grev said. He didn’t sound sorry.

She harrumphed and trod towards the exit into the gardens. “Ambassador, we’d prefer if you stayed within the mansion.”

A stutter of nervous energy fluttered through Ranvir, sending icy white energy into his veins.

“And I’d prefer not to touch someone with such… yucky hands!” she complained and shoved the door open. “Now where’d he go?”

The door slammed shut a moment before Ranvir pushed his door open. Grev and Es had both sensed him standing beyond it, so they weren’t surprised.

“That was lucky,” muttered one guard, standing next to the garden door.

“Hey,” his companion said. “These guys are tethered. I wouldn’t expect luck goes into it.”

“If he caught the attention of her, then it definitely does,” the first guard shivered.

Before the second could say anything, Grev shot them a look that had them withering until they both seemed half as big.

Grevor threw the napkin on the counter and rubbed at his forehead. “It wasn’t her,” he muttered. “The Sadukarin Ambassador might be…” he glanced at his guards. “An annoyance, but she’s not a killer. Besides, her country has only prospered with their freedom from Ankiria.”

“What about Geir?” Ranvir asked, earning a dirty look from Esmund. The short tethered had clearly taken a liking to him.

“I don’t know. I didn’t get the impression that he was putting up a front. But he could just be afraid we would catch him.”

“Or afraid we would take away his only job and leave his wife and child without a father,” Es added.

“Or that,” Grev said. He groaned and ran a hand through his hair. They could all sense the approach of the last set of guards and the last suspect. “Delay them for a minute,” Grev ordered one man guarding the door. “I need a moment.”

“Sir,” the second guard said, abandoning his friend and earning a dirty look.

As the door slipped open and the guard stepped out, the sound of a woman sobbing became much clearer. Grevor looked to be in physical pain at the noise.