Caesar sat in Georgina’s room like it was going to give him answers. It had been cleaned, and nothing had been unearthed. Not a diary, not a forbidden book, not a clue. He found himself in this room often, thinking of that little girl that never smiled, never laughed, never was anything but furiously focused on training her body and mind as hard as she could.

She had excelled at everything she did. It was a shame she was illegitimate. And now she was dead, and he was sitting here, holding the burnt journal in his hands. He had been spending a lot of time in her room. There was a sense to it that something was missing. The bed was perfectly made. There was not a speck of dust. There were fresh roses cut in the corner, and it was clean and neat and perfect.

The books… They had found no leads. No one knew anything, and he had to wonder how she obtained them. The magic she was practicing was arcane, archaic, ancient, and dangerous. He still couldn’t figure out what she had been growing, but when he looked at the diagram on the journal, he thought she might have been studying the human body. But, what was she studying about it? What was she trying to discover? Had she succeeded and her research been stolen? Or was it burned with her?

He had thought she spent a lot of time in the woods. She did spend a lot of time in the woods. But, he had thought that normal. She was always an anti-social little girl, preferring to spend her time among the birds and bugs to people. She had always been like that. How long had she been doing this? How far back did her research reach?

He dropped his head and breathed in the scent of burnt paper and ash. It was an old journal, from what he could tell. It spanned years, and he wished he knew what she was doing.

“This isn’t like you,” Augustus said as he leaned in the door of Georgina’s room, and Caesar looked up.

“If you don’t have any news, I don’t want to hear from you,” Caesar growled, and Augustus lifted his eyebrows.

“We sent out a list of the books we found to different sellers. They reported a girl with pink hair and red eyes buying them,” he said, and Caesar went still. “We got a name. Hilde Bueregarde, but I’m willing to bet that was Georgina’s disguise. I don’t think she was working with her. I looked into it, and Hilde is a ghost. Doesn’t exist.”

“Okay,” Caesar breathed out and leaned back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. “Okay. So, we have her persona.”

“That’s about it,” Augustus said, and studied his father critically. “You’re taking this harder than I thought you would.”

“She was mine,” Caesar growled, because she was. No matter her illegitimacy, that was his daughter. No one else’s. You didn’t get to take what was his and kill them. That wasn’t how that was done.

“I don’t think we’re going to find anything,” Augustus said casually. “Whoever she messed with might be a bit beyond us.”

Caesar was silent for a long, long moment. Augustus studied him in silence, and then Caesar came to his feet and strode for the door, passing Augustus before he could kill him where he stood. He’d buried enough children.

“I want to know every seller Georgina went to as Hilde,” Caesar said, and Augustus pursed his lips. “I want to know what she did, where she went, what she purchased, and what enemies she had under that name. I want to know everything.”

“Father…” Augustus said, and Caesar whirled around.

“You don’t touch what is mine!” he screamed, and his voice cracked, as if he was a child. He took a deep, shaking breath in, and then he straightened out his waistcoat. “You don’t touch it.”

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Augustus alone in the middle of the hallway.

He would find Georgina’s killer. He didn’t care if it took him months, years, even. He would find them. And they would pay dearly for the death of his daughter.

He would light the fire himself. He couldn’t bring her back, but he could make sure he was avenged.

….

Mally sank down in the bath as the fire burned happily in the fireplace. It was hot and steamy in the bathroom, and Tuna was laying on the floor, chewing on a bone Mally had bought from the butcher with loud crunches. It was kind of disturbing the quiet, but Mally didn’t mind so much. It was fine. With a sigh, they let their head rest back against the curve of the tub and let their eyes slide shut. It was peaceful. They had nearly died today, but they hadn’t, and that was what mattered.

Tuna had survived, too, and they were glad for it. They had no idea what they would do if Tuna died. With a sigh, they let their arm hang out of the bath, and thought about that puppy. Out of all their brothers, Marcus had always been the most psychotic. He reveled in tormenting people, and he had some serious mommy issues.

Malinda…

Her stepmother had died from an unknown illness when Mally was seven. She had been cruel to Mally. Always smacking them, talking down to them, beating them senseless with a riding crop when she didn’t like the look in their eye. And Caesar watched it all with a sly smile on his lips, as if he knew something Mally didn’t. She had been a harpy of a woman, and Mally hadn’t been all that upset when she died. When she called for him in her last moments, they had refused to go. They had to be carried into her room, and she had seized their hands, looked deep in their eyes, and hissed that they would never be a true DeVille.

Vile woman.

Marcus, before that point, had always clung to her skirts. He had loved her, had a complex about her. He had a serious mommy complex. He had learned cruelty from her, and Mally still recalled that he used to strike him with a wooden sword. He stopped after Malinda died, but goddamn. They had no idea who gave him a talking to, but he had escalated after that. Tormented Mally through other means, and they were a little sad they hadn’t killed him. They had wanted to, but that would be counterproductive. It was enough to escape with their life.

With a sigh, they stood up from the bath. It didn’t do well to dwell on it all. The water poured off of them, and Tuna perked up as they pulled the plug in the bathtub and stepped out of it. Water trickled down their body, and they started the process of drying themself off. They pulled on a loose shirt and underwear, and then they walked into their bedroom and collapsed on their bed.

Why had Artesia visited them at the guildhall? She wasn’t supposed to do that. Really, she was really acting up. It was getting concerning, they thought as they rolled over and stared up at the ceiling. And Daisy…

Daisy was apparently a natural with a blade. Which was surprising, because she was described as a lovable klutz in the manhwa and novel. It was the hallmark of her character. She was supposed to be cute and clumsy, but she was apparently serious about this. The guild trainer, Evan, thought Mally should be able to take her on quests in two months. Of course, it would be the end of the social season then, so she wasn’t going to be going on any quests, but…

Ah, well.

It was fine.

They wondered when word was going to get back to her family, and when Artesia was going to go cleanse her contaminated land. Probably at the end of the social season. A lot of crops had died or mutated, and Aldova County was a ticking time bomb at this point. With a sigh, they stretched out on their bed, and then the bell rang.

They froze, and it rang again.

It was nearly midnight. Who was calling at this hour? They thought in confusion as they got up and pulled pants on. They headed down the stairs, and the bell rang again.

“I’m coming!” they called as Tuna followed them down the stairs, and they came to the front door and pulled it open.

It was raining outside, and there stood the first prince, future Crown Prince, Jacques. They stared at him blankly before they dropped down to kneel. He was soaking wet, and they dipped their head.

“Your Highness,” they said, and he drew himself up to his full height, looking like a drowned rat.

“Well? Are you going to let me in?” he asked, and they climbed to their feet.

“Yes, please come in,” they said, and he came in, stopping in the hall to swing off his cloak and hang it up on the coat rack. Tuna pinned back her ears, and Mally swallowed.

“I apologize, Your Highness, I don’t have much to entertain, but I can go get some tea?” they tried for, and he swept past them, heading for the parlor.

“Do what you want,” he replied and collapsed on the sofa. “Though, I’d prefer some wine.”

“I have… some wine,” Mally replied. “Cooking wine, but…”

“That’s fine,” he said and flapped his hand, and Mally escaped to the kitchen. They found a bottle of wine and uncorked it, and then they hurriedly got their best bread and cheese on a platter, with some cured meats. They had mostly bought non perishables, or things that perished very slowly, mostly because they didn’t know how long they would be missing in dungeons at a time. They were about to reach B rank. Which meant dungeons.

They got the board arranged and came back out with the wine and two glasses and set down the platter.

“Sorry, I… I don’t have much,” they stammered, and the prince leaned forward and plucked up some prosciutto, popping it in his mouth before he poured himself a hefty, not-properly-filled glass of wine. Mally’s etiquette teacher would shudder at the sight of it, they thought as they poured themself a more moderate glass.

“Good wine, for cooking,” he said, and Mally swallowed.

“Uhm, it’s, uh, well, I don’t believe in cooking with wine you won’t drink,” they said. “It’s an ingredient.”

“Mmm,” the prince replied, and then he put his ankle over his knee and studied them. “You keep ending up in situations, Mally.”

“I… do?” they asked.

“Discovering the terrorist,” he said. “I sent my men. We didn’t find her, but we did find the paintings. And her workshop. Which I suppose you didn’t have the pleasure of discovering, given the lack of time you had.”

“Ah… No, I didn’t find a workshop,” they replied, and he hummed.

“It was disturbing. Lots of forbidden texts,” he said, and he rubbed his eyes. “There’s a lot of forbidden texts going around right now.”

Mally paused, wondering if he knew about the burning of their own workshop. Probably. Caesar was probably refusing to let him investigate Georgina’s death, but that didn’t mean the prince didn’t have spies in the DeVille household. Why Caesar had gotten away with his transgressions for so long was beyond Mally.

“Your Highness, begging your pardon, but why are you… here?” they asked, and the prince was silent for a moment.

“I just wanted some wine,” he murmured and swirled the wine in the glass before he picked up a slice of cheese and put it in his mouth.

“Wine,” they repeated. “And you don’t have wine at your palace?”

“It’s not as good as yours,” he said, and they felt frustration well. He was here for something, but they didn’t know what. First Artesia today, now Jacques. What, were they going to wake up with Edwin in their bed? What was going on?

“Do you… want company?” they asked after a moment, and he smiled at them. Tuna padded into the room and laid down, eyeing Jacques warily, and the prince looked over at her.

“I see you have company,” he said and tossed Tuna a bite of cheese. She gobbled it up before Mally could tell her no, and they sat in silence for a moment.

“It was an accident. I fed her a goblin,” Mally replied, and he laughed.

“No wonder she’s so skinny. She must be a rogue.”

“I think she was. Separated from her pack, at the very least. Her name’s Tuna.”

“Mmm,” he said, and Tuna laid her head on her paws and stared up at Mally.

“Do you…” Mally trailed off. “I’m afraid I can’t entertain long. It’s midnight.”

“Unfortunate,” the prince said wryly, and they took in his appearance. He was dressed down, in commoner garb, and they didn’t know why he was dressed like that. He must have snuck out of the palace. Why sneak to their house, though? They didn’t understand him. “Get drunk with me, Mally.”

“Get drunk with you, Your Highness?” they asked hesitantly, and he took a long swallow of his wine.

“Yes. Get drunk with me,” he said, and they stared at him.

“I don’t think that’s appropriate,” they said, and he laughed.

“Why not?”

“Because we are not of the same station, Your Highness,” they said patiently, wondering why they had to explain this again and again to these absolute buffoons. If they hadn’t faked their death, they would have never acted this way.

“We aren’t?” he asked slyly, and they froze. “Oh, don’t be shy, Mally. I don’t know who you are, but I know noble table manners when I see them. Your etiquette is perfection. You would have made a good bride for me.”

Mally didn’t breathe. They didn’t so much as twitch. He… Were they that transparent?

“It’s alright,” he said and poured himself another glass of wine. “You’re not the first girl to run away from an arranged marriage to a man three times her senior. And I doubt you’ll be the last. Your secret is safe with me.”

“Is it, though?” Mally asked, and he smiled at them wickedly.

“Why would I tell? It’s none of my business, and if you ask me, your skin now suits you far better,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, and Mally took a deep breath in.

“Okay…” they said hesitantly. “I’m not telling you who I am.”

“I’m not asking you to. I’m asking you to enjoy some wine with me,” he said, and there was an implicit threat there. Drink, or else.

Mally drank.