You were called to be free, brothers and sisters. But do not use your freedom to indulge the flesh; rather, serve one another humbly in love. For the entire law is fulfilled in keeping this one command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” But if you bite and devour each other, watch out, or you will be destroyed by each other.

  So I say: walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh. For the flesh desires what is contrary to the Spirit, and the Spirit what is contrary to the flesh. They are in conflict with each other, so that you are not to do whatever you want. But if you are led by the Spirit, you are not under the law.

  Now the acts of the flesh are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery; idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions and envy; drunkenness, orgies, and the like. I warn you, as I did before, that those who live like this will not inherit the kingdom.

  The Book of Discernment 5:13-21 - The New Covenant

  Spring 28, 1388

  The tenement smelled of fried eggs, warm coffee, and honeyed beans. The spot beside him was warm, but empty, the blankets being tossed recklessly to the side. The Watcher still hung high in the sky, but the chattering of women echoed from the living room. Adrian groggily stood up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and pulling the blanket off his body.

  The inquisitorial vestment rested atop the mannequin, but his skin was still sweaty and covered from yesterday's labour. He stretched out, bare feet hitting the wooden floorboards and lumbering straight to the dining room.

  “...just follow the thread, Edda. Stop trying to force it.” Melissa watched their new guest weave and craft a new dress, and this one was just as bizarre and tasteless as the last one. It used simple linens mixed with capital silk to create another damned abomination.

  It was a [Milk Maid], if someone had never met Auntie Laura and seen that her biceps don’t fit into these. Likewise, if Auntie Laura had seen this, she’d ask him to burn it for immodesty.

  The color was a strange off-yellow – ‘Dusty Sunflower’ – seen in printed works to ‘evoke’ that farming feel; except it didn’t exist in nature and needed to be alchemically produced. This made the color relatively expensive, which suited a Capital Woman just fine.

  The bodice itself was bawdy, pretending to be something a normal person would wear. Sure, the style looked fairly familiar, but the cut around the neck was made larger. Instead, it had become a heavy square that dropped low on her chest, held by nothing but the grace of the Phoenix Queen and hopefully some boning.

  The sleeves were puffy and oversized, something that would get in the way of milking a teat, but subtly drew attention to her curves. The entire mockery had an hourglass appeal, and even the white apron was designed to act more like a way to accent the curve than it was to protect the fabric underneath.

  And of course, the skirt and apron hung loosely. Not immodestly, that would be more often seen on a worker in the bath-house or whorehouse, but just not with the curves of a bell, clinging tightly to her gait. Gold thread lined it, shimmering with the The Watcher’s Sight that poured out of the windows.

  And of course, it was finished with heels. Golden and light, even if Edda was already fairly tall.

  Adrian’s eyes furrowed at it, all the while Edda’s hands were being slapped and guided to finish the threading properly. Melissa’s eyes followed the fine needle, so he could probably get away.

  He turned around to head to the washroom, but the sharp sound of Edda whistling burst out. “Look at you, [Farm Boy]. That’s the type of physique they look for at the Party rooms in the capital. Ever think of going to a hen party?”

  “Too short,” Adrian dryly countered, and Edda removed her gaze from his chest to look at his head.

  “All the same size laying do-”

  “I will charge you.” Edda immediately shut up.

  “Tsk, Edda, he’s married! But you definitely have to show me one of these party houses!” Melissa chimed in, playfully swatting her shoulder.

  “Will do! You alright with that, Lord Skye?”

  “Bring her back before dark,” he responded, raising his hand up to dismiss the pair and get washed. He grabbed his uniform, and returned 45 minutes later, gauntlet fastened, The Great Eye glowing, and boots properly bloused.

  Edda was wearing that tacky dress, and Melissa was wearing something similar. They were still talking, and Adrian came to join them. He took his cup of coffee and fried eggs, and tried to make himself listen to their conversation.

  He couldn’t do it. He lost track of the conversation between ‘fun pastries to try’ and ‘capital fashion’.

  So, he broke the conversation. “Are you coming to the Bath House opening, Edda?”

  “Oooh, a Bath House? You’re allowing one of those in your town?”

  “Why wouldn’t he?” Melissa questioned, and Edda glanced at her then deferentially to Adrian. Accursed woman.

  “I’ll address it, Edda. I am still the law around here. And, this gives you a way to meet Noel before we arrive at Flowers-By-The-River. Missy, are you going to be alright here by yourself?”

  “Don’t worry about Us ‘Hens’, and Aywin. We’ll be fine here,” Melissa responded.

  Adrian pushed his plate forward and stood up. Edda looked down at her unfinished beans and eggs, but quickly stood up as well.

  “See you at the meeting, Lady Skye!” Edda cheerfully said, pulling on her skirt. Adrian already turned around to leave.

  “Of course you two know each other,” Adrian muttered, rubbing his eyes again. This was a running trend with Edda.

  “How would I not?! Noel Birchigold was at my Debutante party! Him and his older Brother Cornelius, and their younger brother too… ooh, you should have been there, Lord Skye.”

  “He would have been two years old. And you still act like a 16 year old girl, Lady Belten,” Noel chided, glancing to the left. Adrian followed the glance to Aywin, who was currently talking to Ser Bartholomew, Lionel, Lucas, and Maximillion.

  Edda smirked, and her hand playfully raised up to stroke Noel’s chest. “Come now, Noel. It’s just Edda, do I look like a noble to you?”

  “No,” Adrian and Noel both said.

  “Exactly! And unlike you, I’m not scared of living my life,” her head turned dramatically towards Aywin. “Cute boy… or is it a girl? I can never tell with elves.”

  Noel’s muscles tensed, and his biceps shifted. Edda licked her lips as both of his hands gripped either of her shoulders. “What are you accusing me of, Edda?” The stoic expression faded into a small moment of fear, Noel’s eyes moving off Edda’s smirking face to glance at Adrian.

  Edda’s hand raised to stroke his chest, and then wrapped languidly around his neck. She leaned in, and then whispered into his ear. His face spasmed for a second, returning to a forced neutral. Noel’s fingers squeezed into Edda’s shoulders, dimpling and bruising the flesh.

  “Relax, your Inquisitor-Prefect is aware. Won’t even order a poor Hound to hunt. You seem like a fun hunt,” she cooed, letting her finger poke into his shoulderblade and twirled playfully.

  Noel’s eyes locked on Adrian. “You are aware of what Edda says?”

  “I don’t know what she said,” Adrian evaded.

  “Oh really, Inquisitor-Prefect? Than I would like to formally report that –”

  “Edda, be silent,” Adrian interrupted, and turned to Noel. “I suspected something, but I wasn’t planning to look deeply. I didn’t tell Edd-”

  “He was at my Debutante, Lord Skye. Wouldn’t even flirt with a beautiful thing like me or my friends. Whatever was a girl to do..?” she playfully said, and laughed. “Shame that Cornelius threw you out for that. He deflowered a few girls that day, and didn’t even pay or marry them.”

  Noel released Edda slowly, and looked at Adrian carefully. “Girl was right about you,” Noel muttered, glancing down the path. Adrian followed his attention to see an entourage beginning to move - being led by a particular red-head. His attention from this scene was gone.

  “I’ll talk to you two about this later. I’m not going to do anything about it,” Adrian quickly remarked, already walking away.

  “Who is that?” Edda asked, but Noel grabbed her head.

  “No one you need to concern yourself with. Should I ask how you’ve been?”

  “You know how it is, Noel… A Hound must hunt, and I’ve been enjoying my hunts. You coming to a Capital Party with me then? I know a good place for you to sample the ‘meats’, as they say.”

  “I’m…”

  “He can come too!”

  Noel groaned, but Adrian had already left.

  “Mornin’, Ashy,” Adrian said, pushing off the wall and lowering the scarf from his face. His eyes were locked on her figure. Like Edda, Ashley was out of place. Her outfit wasn’t a mockery, but the annoyed red-head was. Her face was a bit more blue regardless of the makeup, and her legs were wobbling with each step.

  But it was her eyes that bothered him the most. Fear and confusion, the same one every Feast of the Birth, when she was gifted pretty clothes and people just looked at her. This time though, there were people following.

  She must have been miserable.

  “Look at ya, sis. Lookin’ like the prized princess,” Adrian began, locking eyes with her. A small smile formed at the tips of Ashley’s mouth, before her eyebrows would furrow and her irritation would shine. “Can ya even breathe in that thing?”

  Ashley opened her mouth, but the woman behind her stepped up.

  Ophelia.

  “Inquisitor-Prefect, you of all people show know it is Lady Hart, or Priestess,” her voice was stern and cold, and lacked any sense of warmth or depth. Humanity was the word he was thinking of.

  Behind Ophelia was Annabelle and Jasmine, and Annabelle gently shook her head. Adrian accepted that information, but looked straight at Ophelia.

  Her black hair was combed and kept straight, and her blue eyes only had a light amount of makeup. On her neck was…

  An emerald necklace. It was ditzy and fairly cheap looking, and the diamond chain around it was absolutely more expensive than the gemstone. The odd part was it was the only jewelry she was wearing, and Melissa had told him that most women preferred complimentary colors – so why green? That was Ashley’s favourite colour…

  Wait.

  His eyes moved towards Ashley and felt his heart skip a beat.

  If that was the case, was she just going to ruin the [Farm Girl]? Maybe she wasn’t as serious as he figured.

  “I apologize,” he began, and then paused. He shifted performatively, like the made-up instructions Ashley had given to him when they were young. You bow low, flutter your hands with a twirl, and then state what they’re like.

  It was the only way they’d make peace with a Fairy Prince when they met one, after all. Adrian had been taught proper etiquette, but Ashley probably had not. This would be a fun test.

  “Lady Hawthorne, I, Inquisitor-Prefect, [Paladin] of Amaril, Keeper of this thing and that, am so humbled to be in your presence. You make the winters seem a bit less snowy, and the sun to glow more radiantly, and the carrots to taste more carrot-y.” He pulled himself up, and turned to look at Ashley. Her face had that same amused smile he loved, and her eyes were locked on his performance.

  “Not to me, you ingrate. To your priestess!” Ophelia growled. Jasmine and Annabelle stepped back, and Ashley’s hands clenched into gloves.

  He didn’t have a proper read. Was this ‘Priestess Ashley’ Ophelia’s doing, or was it Ashley’s choice?

  “Fine, Fine, Lady Hawthorne. You can play pomp and mirrors all you want and look like a Capital Woman if you desire. I’ll play along with you,” he paused, taking a breath. “Just assumed any friend of Ashy – “

  Ophelia’s eyes opened wide, and then narrowed. Exactly the look he was looking for. His heart was calm, and his mind was focused. His eyes locked with her sparkling blue, and that sense of boredom and practice flooded in.

  “Any friend of Ashy would know this is a dumb act she’s puttin’ on. Right, ‘Lady’ Carnwich, and… Annabelle? You’re joining her crew?” Hopefully they’d buy that.

  “Amaril darn it, Addy. We’re workin’ now! You can’t just be ignorin’ Ashy’s priesty-ness!” Jasmine chided, but her tone was light. She stepped up towards Adrian, and playfully pushed his shoulder.

  Adrian gave a polite laugh. His gauntleted hand touched against Ophelia, and something felt wrong. The Great Eye burned, and Ophelia violently jerked backwards.

  The Symphony was changed. He always felt warm, welcome, like resting on a field as Amaril’s Gaze warmed his flesh. But that close to her, it felt silent and staccato - like the cold chill of winter.

  Interesting.

  He offered Annabelle his hand. “Good to see you as well, ‘Lady’ Baker,” he said, eyes straight but iris going to the side that Ophelia was standing.

  Anna didn’t break eye contact, but her left finger tapped against his wrist. Once - Yes.

  “L-Lord Skye! S-sorry, I didn–”

  “It’s Adrian, Anna. Known me since we were kids, cuz. Yah can drop the formality thing when I ain’ workin’. I mean, I’m going to be provide'n security for Ashy’s weird bathhouse and makin’ sure it’s clear that there’s no whorin’ going on in there, but right now? Off the clock.” He looked at Annabelle, and she tapped twice on his wrist. Nothing illegal then, and he released his grip.

  “Inquisitor-Prefect, you are always on the clock,” that irritating voice of the shrew sounded again from behind. He elected to stare at Annabelle.

  “A-Alright, Addy…? Yeah, Ash–,” she paused, and reoriented his gaze to focus on Ashley. “Lady Har–”

  “You got it right the first time.” Adrian corrected, returning her attention to Ophelia. “Knowin’ Princess Carrot over there, she’s ruminating on how weird she feels bein’ important now. She’d much prefer you call her Ashley or somethin’. Or do what I do and call her carrothead.”

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  Annabelle glared at Adrian, but as soon as Jasmine began to laugh, she burst into laughter too. Adrian felt that she was overperforming, finding his dumb joke and 'correction' a bit too funny compared to Jasmine.

  “I ain’ no BLOODY CARROT YOU UNDERSIZED HOG. I BETCHA SLOP IS THE ONLY THING THAT COMES OUT OF YOUR DAMN MAW,” Ashley burst out, stomping towards Adrian. He quickly glanced down, seeing the pointed edge of her heel pushing against the cobblestone.

  He could catch her, but Ashley would hate it. She much preferred dropping her spade on the ground and then picking it up, instead of him grabbing it for her.

  So he didn’t.

  As he expected, Ashley stumbled. Her hands flailed about, but she would correct herself. If she did get hurt, he was here.

  She found her balance, and approached Adrian, angry green eyes locking with his brown. She smelled of perfume and lye. Seemed like she started taking care of herself again. That was good!

  “HOW MANY TIMES DOES I GOTTA TELL YA THAT I DON’ LIKE BEIN’ CALLED A BLOODY CARROT. ELORA ABOVE YOUSE GONNA BE HOSED DOWN BY MELLY AND I WONT EVEN STITCH YOUR STUPID FACE.”

  The words hurt his ears, but Adrian didn’t have a place he’d rather be, except maybe beside Melissa. No, Melissa was definitely the only person he’d go to, but she was being occupied by Edda and her other friends.

  He could indulge in some childhood fun!

  Adrian stuck out his tongue. “Two things, Ashy - don’ need it. I can fix myself up just fine, carrothead. Second, Melly ain’ gonna hose me down. She don’ even know how to use a hose!”

  “It’s an expression, you pig!”

  “You’re an expression!”

  “THAT… Doesn’t even make sense!”

  “Like a [Farm Girl] wearin’ stays and silk when she don’ even got anything to show off?”

  Adrian refused to look at her breasts. She wasn’t as busty as Edda, and he knew this was a sour point for her in general. It made an excellent point to tease.

  Annabelle again laughed, but this time it was genuine. Guess she made the same connection to Edda.

  Ashley looked downwards to her chest, but Adrian pushed his other hand and pushed her head back up. “Only jossin’, ‘Priestess’. Lightin’ up. Never seen such a gloomy girl about to open her own business.” She looked like he did, the first day he was wearing a uniform around town. But now he had practice. “You’re still Ashy to me. Just gotta remind your ‘entourage’ that. Right, Jazzy?”

  “Amaril, Adrian. I kind of forgot our [Farm Girl] was still so…”

  “...Ashley-like?” Annabelle said, but the tone she used was chilling. She was correct, it wasn’t Ophelia defending her, it was herself. She wasn’t a puppet.

  But this could be for many reasons. “Been in your shoes plenty a-times, Ashy. If you want some advice navigatin’ it, lemme know,” he offered, but Annabelle’s disapproving glare spoke volumes.

  “Lady Hart, Ms. Canwich, Ms. Baker. We’ve work that must be done. And while this… distraction… is amusing, it’s ultimately a waste of time.”

  Was… she offended on Ashley’s behalf? Maybe she did care about the [Farm Girl] too. “Look at ya, Lady Hawthorne! Usin’ contractions now? Must have gotten you bothered as well.” he offered. “Wanna stop being… whatever this is and just join in?”

  Ophelia was not amused.

  “Inquisitor-Prefect, your sudden appearance, while legal, does not follow any protocol of how the nobility is to behave. You are not supposed to look like a fool and embarrass the commission and rank that was entrusted upon you by treating your status like a joke - or an on or off switch. You represent the crown, and a manner of being. People expect things out of you, and I am sorry your mentor never taught you about decorum.”

  Adrian glanced at Jasmine, Annabelle, and then at Ashley. No, it was Ophelia making these changes, and it confirmed it. He raised his scarf, and his focus was solely on that bitch. He could feel Annabelle and Ashley, and even Jasmine, watching him. All for different reasons, he expected.

  “I understand decorum well, Ophelia.”

  There were some odd shuffling sounds coming from the side, but his focus was on Ophelia. Her face screamed like a woman scorned, a noble told no. He braced himself.

  “It is Lady Hawthorne to you, young blood. You may be nouveau-riche like the rest of your kind, but you’ve no heritage or claims to back your own.”

  “I’ve a commission scroll that grants me the title. Want to see it and confirm, Ophelia?”

  “Rhyvesta take you. You know what I intended.”

  Definitely Ophelia. Cursing a [Paladin] with the Enemy? A vampire like her father, but now to break a [Dark Veil]. Future problems.

  He heard something from the side, but ignored it. He crossed his arms.

  “Calling upon The Enemy to curse a [Paladin]? Like Father, like Daughter. I can’t prove you’re a vampire – Torment, you’re standing in Amaril’s Gaze right now, but you seem exactly like him.”

  “You will not drag my family’s lineage through the mud. And, for future meetings, you will not touch me again unless you wish for your arm to break in half. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Exactly like him. Second Hawthorne who’s threatened me. How did that turn out again?”

  Ophelia’s face was hate. It was anger. “Are you implying something, Inquisitor-Prefect?”

  “I don’t know, am I? How is House Hawthorne after it got burned down?”

  She grit her teeth. “Being rebuilt with pure money... You are more than welcome to come inspect – provided you have the proper warrants and notice.”

  “I thought we were playing by court protocols? You know as well as I that I don’t need one for the daughter of a criminal. You might not be a vampire, but you’re not pure in the eyes of the law. Make sure to leave five plates for a visit then, and I hope that I’ll see something pleasant like that around the neck of your servants, and not the collars I saw last time.” He motioned at the emerald necklace on her neck.

  Ashley finally stepped up. “ENOUGH! Adrian, apologize. Ophelia, back off. Amaril above, I get it. I’m a priestess now and a girl from Oakheart. And Adrian, you will get a warrant if you are investigating my friend.”

  They were friends. He quickly glanced at Annabelle who picked up on it too. But he had to try. “She’s your friend now, Lady Hart?”

  “YES SHE IS, ADDY. I’m sorry about whatever happened between Elias and you, but Ophelia is the only reason I can keep this without falling apart!” Ashley grabbed Ophelia’s arm, knocking her off balance.

  “I don’ know the first thing about this courtly stuff, and I know she’s a bit too formal, but I need it. Imagine if it was jus’ me goin’ up there to talk and havin’ to word about all that. She’s serious, but she ain’ a bad person, Addy. She ain’ ‘Lady Hart’s’ Friend. She’s Ashley’s friend so I can be the Lady Hart that helps Oakheart.”

  “She ain’ lying, Addy,” Jasmine said, stepping up with Annabelle. “One word from you and Carrothead goes off her handle. But she’s a priestess now, and while I know Ashy is fun to be around… Ophelia manages that public face. She ain’ our enemy, she’s just… proper. Oakheart’s changin’. We have an Adventurer’s Guild now!”

  Or Ophelia was manipulating Ashley into this. Both could be true, but for now, he would keep the peace.

  “I apologize,” he began, and did a proper bow towards Ophelia. His upper body sunk low, going orthogonal to us four. “Lady Hawthorne. There are merits in the rules and structure. I hope that this faux-pas will not be a sour point between you and Lady Hart. And, if I were to investigate Hawthorne Manor, I will treat you like a citizen and acquire a warrant first, for the sake of our mutual acquaintance.”

  He rose, and stared into her blue eyes. “Do not give me a reason to acquire one. I hope I make myself clear?”

  Her eyes met his with his. Cold, empty, filled with hate. The chill of winter poured out of her, burned away to the sensation of the morning sun. “I will not, Lord Inquisitor. I will not pretend to play noble with you. Let us hope our paths do not converge more than they must, until our mutual friend agrees she has outgrown one of us.”

  Adrian said nothing, but turned away. He raised his hand in exit. “Ashy, Jazzy, Anna. See you around.” He walked off to Noel and Edda.

  “You said burning someone is the only way to find a [Dark Veil], Edda?” Adrian asked, approaching his group. Aywin had joined in, and the tense atmosphere he left the two in had all but faded.

  “Yes! Are you authorizing me to burn Ophelia, Inquisitor?” Edda cheerfully said, which made Melissa, Noel, and Aywin all look sharply at each other.

  “No. You can’t just burn a noble – “

  “Without their consent,” Edda unhelpfully added.

  “...Moving on. But there is something weird about her. Or…”

  Noel crossed his arms, and looked at Adrian. “Something strange?”

  Adrian revealed the Great Eye to Noel. “I touched her shoulder and it reacted. Her Symphony is very, very cold - I didn’t even realize she had one. Mind if I touch you to see if something is on the fritz?”

  “Go ahead. At least you ask first, Edda.”

  Edda stuck her tongue out at Noel, and Adrian placed his hand on Noel’s bicep. He wasn’t tall enough to reach the shoulder without leaning up.

  The warm winds of spring flowed out, and the sounds of the wilds came through. It was faded, and mixed with his own Symphony bleeding out, he was sure it wasn’t the full experience. It never was.

  “Nothing wrong,” Adrian admitted.

  “Might I inquire what your umbrage with Lady Hawthorne is, Inquisitor-Prefect?” Aywin chimed in, cautiously avoiding Edda’s wandering hands.

  “She seems to be corrupting Ashley.”

  Melissa clicked her tongue. “Nah. I think Ashy is like these two lovebirds. Aywin! You want to come over for dinner? I would love to have you over, and show some proper southern hospitality. Amaril knows you need it.”

  Noel, Adrian, and Aywin all looked at Melissa. Noel spoke up. “Lady Skye, what do you mean?”

  “Um… nothing untowards. Cornbread, some food, a chance to talk?” she nervously admitted.

  Aywin chuckled, and his elegant hand rested on her shoulder. “We knew that part, Lady Skye. What my…” Melissa nodded at him. “Partner… is trying to say, is what do you mean about Ashley being like us?”

  “Oh! She asked if Ophelia could come, like how Noel asked if you could come. Now that I know about you two, just tryin’ to make sense of it all,” she quickly turned to Adrian. “You think this is the reason she was so mean in school?”

  “No,” Noel and Adrian said together, which caused Edda to laugh.

  Noel shook his hood. “Trust me, I don’t think what Ophelia and Ashley have is… love. It seems more like…”

  “Codependance?” Edda added, which made Noel nod. “I slept with a vampire before. They only really seem to like domination and power. Talked about wanting to serve a Dark Queen. Shame that, if he didn’t say that, I’d have left him be. But I had to stake his heart since that seemed like he was about to go join her.”

  “Her?” Melissa asked, but Adrian’s expression shifted from boredom to a serious glare.

  “Lady Belten, I apologize if I am being too lax, but –”

  Edda, for her part, was genuinely appalled. “I… will accept judgement there, Inquisitor. I had spoken out of turn.” She respectfully bowed her head, and Adrian sighed.

  “Please keep your mouth shut about state secrets. Anyways, go on?”

  Edda raised her head and actually considered her words. “What I meant to say is that they groom people to be figureheads. To be the type of person they want to follow.”

  Noel looked downwards. “Why do you think she’s a vampire? She is walking out in Amaril’s Gaze.”

  Edda and Adrian looked at each other. “We’ll tell you on the way to –”

  Ashley moved up to the podium. Her speech was about to begin.

  The carriage they had hired was massive, and even the driver was sanctioned Inquisition. The black cart had massive wheels with windows, and the velvet cushions were far too soft. There was even a table in the center, and the vehicle itself had enough carrying space for all their luggage.

  Melissa hugged and shared a warm kiss with Adrian, politely curtsied to Noel, and then squeezed and giggled with Edda. He wasn’t sure which of the two she’d miss more. Hopefully, him.

  Edda elected to change back into her gaudy hunting outfit, and even Noel was wearing proper noble attire. Adrian shifted into a typical military dress uniform, and buttoned the sides up.

  The three entered the carriage, and a strong arm held it down. “You forgetting someone, Lord Skye?”

  “Bartholomew!” Adrian cheered, before looking at him. “You’re not acting in charge while I’m gone?”

  “Lionel is 3rd-in-command, besides..” but Adrian shook his head. Not everyone here had to know who the [Justiciar] was, unless she wanted them to know. Bartholomew nodded, sliding into the carriage. “You’ll have me, I hope?”

  “Please. If you’ll have me,” Edda teased, and Bartholomew rolled his eyes.

  “I’m happily married –”

  “Invite her too!”

  “...I will decline. Who is she, Lord Skye?”

  “Lady Edda Belten, Sacrum-Venator. And who might you be, fully, Bartholomew?”

  “...We’re working with a Hound? Amaril, I missed a lot,” Bartholomew said, sliding in beside Edda and looking at Noel and Adrian. “Bartholomew de Constanze.”

  “Quite a bit, sergeant," Adrian responded, but then looked at Noel. Noel returned the gaze and shook his head. Edda observed this exchange, and just pulled out some wool and needles.

  “If you two are going to be boring, I’m going to practise. Don’t mind me, and I will join in.”

  The carriage began to run, the horses hooves striking against the floor, and the wheels clacking against the dirt. Adrian looked out to see Melissa waving. His eyes followed her face, until she was distant in the horizon. Only when she was fully gone, did he turn his attention back to the carriage.

  “Long story short, Bartholomew, it seems like Death’s Daughter, The Silent Path, The Darkmire Coven and Elizabeth Bazerie are all linked,” Adrian said, looking at each of them. Bart stared at him, Edda continued to knit and weave, and Noel, oddly, looked out the window.

  “Not that complicated then,” Bart counselled. “Haven’t been to Flowers in such a long time. Could use the vacation and violence.”

  “I agree! You looking for a career in the Hounds? All the violence and traveling you can want!”

  “I want to come home to my family, Lady Belten. And please, no crude jokes.”

  “Shame, I had plenty. How’s ‘you can join a lot of families’ sound?”

  “Like you’re trying too hard. Skye might be green, but you ain’t the first Hound I’ve worked with. You folks burn out or die rather quickly, and for good reason.”

  Edda didn’t respond, and instead, continued to knit.

  The silence continued for a long time. The wheels turned rhythmically over the relatively even cobblestone, before becoming a heavy mess of jumps and jolts on the dirt paths between civilization. The only sound was the bumps and clicks and smacking of horseshoes, and sometimes, when Edda's needles would hit each other instead of the thread. Bart pulled out a book to read, while Noel continued to stare out the window.

  Adrian, however, was lost in thought. Same ideas followed around his head, and it always came down to one thing. Not the grim events that surrounded his work, since that was easy to rectify. Something that just meant a whole lot more to him.

  “So uh… how do you support someone like that?” he nervously, randomly asked.

  “Huh?” Bartholomew responded, but Noel shifted and so did Edda. She stopped knitting, and a smile crept on her face.

  “You can’t. Not really. You don’t have her experience, and at best, you have to hope they open up to you,” Noel said. “Though, I think it’s clear that she knows you’d support her.”

  “Nonsense! Just tell her what you know like I did, and make them trust you!” Edda responded.

  “What are you three talking about?” Bart asked, shifting his attention.

  “Uh..” Adrian began.

  “Lord Skye thinks Lady Hart is being influenced by Ophelia, and that she might be a vampire.” Edda butted in.

  “Lady Hawthorne?” Bart stated. “She walked in Amaril’s Gaze. But, no. They just seem like friends. My daughter seems a lot like her - Ashley I mean. Awkward, touch-starved. Nice girl though. Lady Hawthorne is… not someone I’d spend time near. If I was Ashley’s father, I would separate them.”

  “That’s my impression. Ashley seems like my niece. But without her dad, it does come off like she is being led into a new life.”

  “Is that so bad?” Edda added. “She is an adult, she can make her own decisions. What to do, who to see, whom to love…”

  Bart laughed, boisterous and deep. “Love? Girl looks like a kid who’s being bossed abou–” He paused. “Is that what you’re concerned about Lord Skye? Your friend joining the wrong crowd? I can ask my daughter to look after her then.”

  “Kind of… it’s more compli–”

  Noel stared at Edda, but Edda wasn’t to be stopped. “Lord Skye thinks the two are becoming a pair.”

  Bart blinked, and stopped laughing. “I… see. Nobles are strange creatures. I’ll have my daughter check in with her then. But, you don’t have anything to worry about, Lord Skye. She is her own person - you can’t keep her from her choices.”

  “Even if I have to execute her?”

  Bart frowned, but shook his head. “Look. The Protector sent his Son, and there’s two messages that go at once. I never took the Commission because I couldn’t reconcile the difference. There’s the Son that’s Salvation, and the Son that’s Retribution. The new covenant never really changed anything from the old - but I think that’s because of the followers.”

  Noel and Adrian stared at Bart, but Edda had returned to her knitting.

  “You two look far too serious,” Bart responded, but it was a poor attempt to remove the tension in the air. “The actual works are different from the creation of The Church. I… don’t know much about it, but The Church was created to make social harmony, but the Son? He dined with people his followers said were improper, like this Hound here.”

  “Friendly fire!” she half-heartedly rebuked, but it was clear she was out of this conversation.

  But it made sense for Adrian. “Everyone has to be hypocritical, don't they?”

  “Only way I can make sense of the Old Covenant, The New Covenant, and the Protector’s Son. At the end, all of these are made to discuss what makes a good society. And the Protector’s Son only came to ‘fulfil’ the law, and left its interpretation to us. Are you going to execute your friend because the letter says it's improper, or is the spirit about ‘love’, like the Protector wants.”

  “So, we get to make our own interpretation of the law now, Bart? I’m going to call you a witch…” Edda casually pointed out.

  “Go for it. But I think you know that’s wrong too. The [Druid] there works for foreign gods, and the church doesn’t demand Danu’s execution. There are known hypocrisies, and I think that's needed for a healthy society.”

  Adrian shifted. “You said you had a daughter?”

  Bart nodded. “Erika von Constanze. I’d set you two up, but you’re already married. After we stop working together, of course.”

  Adrian felt like he heard that name before. Strange.

  The conversation turned into normal things after, as the long trip to Flowers-By-The-River began.