ARC 7-Cursed Fates-72
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The hotel is in an uproar when I return.

Crashing into people’s rooms in the middle of the night is sure to rouse the floor. A servant screaming after finding dead bodies on the stairwell is sure to rouse everyone. I can hear the panicked conversations and entitled shouting from the street. The lobby is a whirlwind of activity, as people bombard the poor bastard manning the front desk with questions and others hurry to leave, disregarding their modesty as they walk amongst their peers in their night clothes.

Few take notice of me in the chaos and those that do give me strange glances. They quickly turn away when I meet their gazes. I don’t know if it’s my scorched clothing, as my shirts aren’t nearly as durable as I am, or something in my eyes that gives them pause but the crowd unconsciously makes space for me to pass.

The closer I get to my floor, the louder it gets. My mood becomes gloomier the closer I get to the epicenter of the drama. By the time I arrive and see Marcella standing outside of Jac’s room with two men beside her and Talia blocking the way inside, I’m in a thoroughly bad mood.

“Lou, what—"

“You don’t get to ask questions yet,” I snap as I stomp past her. My eyes are focused on Talia, flicking over her appearance.

“All is well and everyone is fine,” she answers before I have the chance to ask, soothing some of my bad mood.

“Go inside,” I tell her. The sight of her disappearing behind the door and the soft click of the lock being engaged soothes me further. I know she can handle herself but having our flower fighting, for herself or others, rubs me the wrong way. I’ve spent too much time with that elf. Her strange ideas are infecting me. Something about everyone playing their proper role feels good.

I can hear her calming down Jac as I turn to face Marcella. There’s no trace of her usual charm as she stares me down and her expression is cautious. The two men beside her are grave and somber. Once is trying to hide his anger, but his eyes give him away. Suppose he doesn’t appreciate me not treating his lady with the respect he feels she deserves.

“I was attacked by a group of fourteen individuals,” I state in a slow, controlled manner. Marcella isn’t the enemy and I don’t want to treat her like one, but it’s not easy. Right now, everyone feels like an enemy. “Do you want to tell me how fourteen assassins can sneak into your hotel under your nose?”

Marcella’s lips twitch in distaste. “We are investigating—"

“Investigating?” I step forward, using every bit of my height to give my glare extra power. To her credit, Marcella’s expression remains placid. If she’s intimidated, she hides it well. Something that increases my opinion of the merchant, but it doesn’t show through my irritation. “How can you be investigating if you’re standing here bothering the targets of these idiots? You know who’s behind this. Go badger them and let us get the sleep that was rudely interrupted.”

“Believe me, Lou. We are talking to all involved parties. I promise, the guildmasters won’t be sleeping until I get answers. But for me to find those responsible, I need your cooperation. Please help me.”

She bows her head and the men beside her stiffen. I sneer at them. Marcella is doing everything she can to diffuse the situation, but they are not helping. Their body language is screaming their intention to commit violence on her behalf and my fingers twitch with the instinct to act first, eliminate the threats before they can cause any harm.

You can come in. I have to explain the situation to Jac anyway. Your guard dogs can wait outside.”

Marcella raises her head with a smile. “Agreed.”

“My lady—"

“You will wait,” she says without bothering to face the guard who spoke and his mouth closes, lips pressing into a frown. “Fetch us some tea, the Lady in White. Lou, after you.”

I let out of huff of a breath before opening the door to Jac’s room. I wave for the merchant to proceed, flashing the two guards a smile full of intentions before closing the door on their twin glares.

Inside, Talia is perched on the end of Jac’s bed while my cousin paces beside her. She’s changed from her sleepwear into simple clothes, the boots on her feet proclaiming her readiness to flee into the night. My heart clenches in sympathy at the sight. Jac’s been through enough. I wanted to shelter her from this. With all of my strength, I should have been able to. But I hesitated. As Kierra said, who will fear a dragon pretending to be an exotic lizard? No one, until it starts breathing fire.

“Lou!” Her voice is filled relief and exasperation, but she keeps her distance, staring at Marcella curiously.

“Forgive me for the late intrusion,” Marcella says, ignoring the awkwardness of her entrance as she casually strides over to small desk in the room, turning the chair in front of it so it faces us before sitting down. “There was a small incident in the hotel and I need to ask everyone a few questions.”

I nod when Jac looks to me and she relaxes. After a moment to evaluate her options, she decides to take a seat next to Talia. “So?” she asks, once she’s comfortable, but I notice her boots stay on. “What’s going on?”

That’s my cue. “…best I start at the beginning. Which means we need to talk about what happened before I went north.”

I explain everything. Starting with the night Howie bribed me to act as security while he negotiated with the guilds and how said negotiations broke down. How Sara came to us a hysteric mess in the middle of the night crying that the half-goblin had been kidnapped and the guards weren’t doing a damn thing about it. How we rescued him, killing several hunters and a guildmaster in the process. And finally, how their revenge led to the March and the consequences of that particular tradition.

Sometime in the middle of my explanation, there’s a knock on the door. I pause to answer it and find a young boy holding a tea tray. The guards are still in the same places, their glares instantly finding me. I resist the urge to do something petty as I take the tray. Talia stands as I set it on the desk and serves everyone as I get back to my explanation. Jac takes the cup but otherwise ignores it, entirely focused on my words.

The explanation concludes with what happened tonight. “When their ambush failed, they tried to escape, using the other guests as distractions. I wasn’t keen on letting them get away so we chased them into the streets. I don’t know what happened to the four still in the hotel.”

“Fen says they retreated but remain in the hotel,” Talia helpfully supplies before taking a sip of her tea, clearly unfazed by the situation.

“I’ve already ordered a search of the hotel, but that is unexpected. If they are comfortable remaining in the building, they must be hiding in rooms. That means they are either guests or receiving help from guests, either through cooperation or coercion,” Marcella whispers, just as calm as my flower as she analyzes the situation.

Jac is decidedly not calm. Her expression is stricken, a deep fear in her eyes. “Fucking saints, Lou. What in the soul-sucking Abyss are you involved in? Knights of the north marching on Quest? You do know that if that happens—"

“It’ll look like Victory is declaring war on the kingdom and could incite civil war? Yes, I’m not an idiot.” Why do you think I’m trying so hard to conclude these negotiations quickly and with a minimum of loss?

“This is ridiculous,” she grouses. “Someone from the palace should be here. Maybe a royal advisor. Or one of the princes.”

“Because the royal family are such trustworthy individuals,” I say, the sarcasm in my tone so thick it practically drips from my lips.

Jac throws her hands up. “I wouldn’t trust the king as far as I could throw him when it comes to our family, but this isn’t about us. The whole saints damned kingdom is at risk. Somebody more important than us should be handling these negotiations.”

“Somebody more important?”

“Don’t look at me like that. You’re out of your depth, Lou. The assassins are evidence enough of that. You’re a summoner and a good one, but what the hell do you know about negotiations? There are people who train for this, who dedicate their whole lives to it. You need to step aside and let someone more qualified handle this before you get yourself kill—"

“Enough!” I snap, cutting her off. I don’t know why her looking down on me irritates me so much. “I don’t need someone to sweep in and rescue me,” I growl. “This is something I have to do. We are the executors of the March. The north won’t accept outsiders settling the debt.”

“Do you hear yourself? You’re one of those outsiders.”

“I’m not.”

“Why? Because you’re sleeping with a James daughter? You need to cut your loses—"

This time, I don’t use angry words. A beastly sound comes from my throat. Something that would sound ridiculous with my human throat, but the power of my new body gives it a depth and power that could rival any monster. Jac flinches and there’s a heavy pounding on the door.

“Lady Guiness! Is everything alright?”

“May I?” Marcella asks me. Still outwardly calm but speaking softly, with the caution one reserves for wild animals that could attack at any moment. That, and Jac’s subtle fear, are gratifying. I nod to her and the merchant moves to the door, opening it to have a quiet conversation with her guards.

“Alana is my family,” I state, each word bitten off. “And as much as I’d rather not, that means I claim the rest of those insane Victorians too. This is my business and I will handle it. Besides, I doubt the king would be willing to intercede on behalf a criminal.”

“…the succubi. Fuck.”

“Mm.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to do this.”

“That’s the thing. I do. Relax, cousin. I’m not the one you need to be worried about. Our would-be assassins are the ones lying dead in the streets.”

If I ever doubted that I had changed from the unassuming noblewoman of the past, the way Jac looks at me as I casually talk about murdering others would convince me otherwise.

 

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