Harkin looked up as the bell above the door jingled. In walked a familiar person, with curly brown hair and soft brown eyes, the named Georgina DeVille viciously scribbled out over their head with the name Mally Mack written on top of that one. They were standing next to a young man that was obviously the Saint, with Artesia Verdun scribbled out over her head and Silas Verdun written above that. Ah, another one? Things really were getting quite spicy, weren’t they?

He had never seen the Saint in person, but he recognized him(?) on sight. That golden hair and those golden eyes were unmistakable. Tanned, beautiful skin, with perfectly groomed eyebrows and a heavy jaw. He was beautiful, and would grow up to be quite the looker.

“Hello,” he said cheerfully. “Here for a new fetch quest?”

“That’s right,” Mally said, and he smiled down at them. “This is Silas. He’s a cleric that just joined the guild.”

“Ah, I see,” Harkin said with a sage nod. “Well, it’s good to meet you, Silas. I have just the mission for you.”

He picked up a chest of books from under the counter and set it down, and Mally drifted closer. Harkin held out his hand, and Mally put the small map in his hand, and he spoke the address into it.

“This needs to go to the DeVille estate,” he said with a smile, and Mally froze. Really, did they have to be so incredibly obvious? Their eyes darted left and right, and then they took a deep breath in and forced a smile.

“Of course,” they said, and he pushed the chest a little closer. “We’ll get it done.”

“Do hurry,” Harkin said. “The little lord Marcus doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

“Alright,” Mally said and picked up the chest, and Harkin pressed a button beneath his counter to let the informant know they were on their way.

“He wants it to be delivered to him personally, so you’ll have to be on your best behavior,” Harkin said, and Mally paled even more.

“I see,” Mally said, and took the chest as they walked for the door. “Silas will get it done.”

“Excellent!” Harkin said, and Mally headed out the door with Silas on his heels.

Goodness. So much was changing, Harkin thought. The Saint was Touched, Mally Mack was Georgina DeVille, and no one but him knew.

He wouldn’t say he was doing this out of the goodness of his heart. No, he was curious. He wanted to know what was going on, and he wanted to see where this would go. It would be downright rude of him to out Mally when they had taken such painstaking steps to hide their identity. Georgina DeVille’s body was dead, so what did they do? He wanted to know. He wanted to know, and if he gave them up to Caesar DeVille, he would never find out.

No, Harkin would bide his time. He wanted to know how Mally did it, and to do that, he needed to get close to Mally, not Caesar. And, well. He was fond of the kid. Not many kids would take the time to have tea with an old man like him. Especially when they didn’t know who he was. He knew if he pointed Caesar in their direction, Caesar would punish them for leaving him. He had no doubts that Caesar would punish them, and he didn’t want to do that to them. There were lines, and while he would have pointed Caesar at them if it was as simple as killing his daughter, it wasn’t that simple.

They were starting over, and he wanted to let them start over. It would be better to assuage his curiosity by befriending them, and revealing himself in time. Yes, that is what he would do.

Humming to himself, he turned and picked up a dusting cloth to clean off the counter. He took off his charmed glasses and cleaned them, and reflected that the two of them were going to be very difficult to deal with. Silas now was mixed up in the situation, and really, it was only a matter of time before he joined the adventuring guild. Mally was collecting quite the collection of interesting people around them.

Very interesting people, he thought in amusement.

....

Mally stared up at the estate. They hadn’t been here in over a year, and they didn’t want to be here. It was stately, picturesque, painted white and red, and they hadn’t missed it. They had not missed it at all, and they didn’t want to be here.

“Should we go in?” Silas asked hesitantly, looking more than a little unnerved, and Mally nodded.

“Let’s go,” they said and swung off the horse. They almost wanted to send Silas on his own, but he knew Marcus had a hair temper on the best of the days, and was probably worse now that Georgina was dead. He wouldn’t subject Silas to that, even if it was only going to take a few moments. He needed to face down Marcus at some point, anyway.

Just get it over with, he thought to himself. He just had to get it over with.

The two of them approached the stately doors and Mally stepped forward and knocked. There was a long, long pause, and then the door opened to reveal a butler. A familiar face, and Mally bit back the pang in his chest at the sight of Antoni. He held himself high, but he looked as if he had aged ten years. Antoni had always been kind to him.

“Hello. We’re here to deliver books from Harkin,” Mally said, and Antoni stared down at him.

“Of course,” he said. “I believe the young lord wanted the books delivered directly to him. This way.”

With that, he turned and walked up the stairs, and Mally followed along behind him, holding the chest between his hands. He had no idea what Marcus was researching. Magic, probably. He didn’t know. Harkin didn’t seem the type to sell books on dark arts, but what did Mally know? He had a lot of noble clientele, and he probably had to make it work somehow.

Silas looked nervous. Mally didn’t blame him; this was a nerve wracking situation. Even if he wasn’t the FL... MC? The DeVille family had a reputation. And Mally knew that. Oh, gods, he knew that. But, with the death of Georgina... Silas probably felt like he was venturing into a den of vipers, and he wouldn’t be wrong.

Antoni came to a stop outside the door to the study, where Marcus was probably handling their business in the city, and knocked. There was a pause on the other end, and then Mally’s brother’s familiar voice came through.

“Enter,” he called, and Antoni cracked open the door.

“The book delivery is here,” he said, and Marcus looked up from where he was writing on a piece of paper.

“Come in,” he ordered, and Mally slipped in.

Marcus had purple eyes and dark hair, just like all of the members of the family. He was tall, with broad shoulders from swordsmanship and a trim waist. Currently, he was twenty-two, and due to be married soon. It was a political alliance, not one of love, and Mally was glad to be missing the wedding, because they had never liked Marcus’s fiance. She had been snide, rude to them for the crime of being illegitimate, and dismissive. They had never liked her.

Marcus’s eyes were dull, dead, and Mally reflected that they had never seen him look like that before. His shoulders were bowed, as if he held the weight of the world on them, and he looked messy and unkempt, as if he hadn’t taken a bath in a while. Was he depressed? Seriously, why was he... mourning?

Mally wasn’t mourning.

He shouldn’t, either.

They had never cared for him, so why should he care for Georgina?

“Bring them here,” he ordered, his voice sharp, but they could tell from experience that he was trying not to cry. Mally brought the chest of books over to him and set them down, and he opened the chest and stared at the contents.

“What is your name?” he asked directly, and Mally startled.

“Mally Mack, sir,” they said as sweat slipped down the back of their neck.

“The savior of the saint is running around doing errands for Harkin?” he asked sharply, and Mally blinked.

“I’m showing Silas here the ropes,” he said and gestured to Silas. Their brother looked over at Silas, dismissed him, and then looked back down at the books with some kind of frenzied energy. He pulled out the first book and flipped through the pages, and then he turned to the window.

“How long have you been in the capital?” he asked mildly, and Mally hesitated.

“About a month,” they answered truthfully. “I passed through Darven on my way here. It’s a beautiful city.”

“How long were you in Darven?” Marcus asked sharply, and Mally blinked at him.

“About a week,” they replied, and then... “I’m sorry about your sister.”

Silas stiffened up next to him, and Marcus’s eyes flickered with some kind of dark intent Mally was intimately familiar with. Oh, he was about to get mad.

“What would you know of Georgina?” he hissed, and Mally blinked.

“Nothing. I never met her,” they said, and Marcus slapped the book shut.

“Then, keep your pity to yourself,” he snarled. “Save it for congratulations when her killer is caught.”

A chill went down Mally’s spine, because he seemed so sure—

“You said you were in Darven. Did you ever encounter Hilde Beauregard?” he demanded to know, and Mally fought not to freeze, not to give him a reaction.

“I’m not familiar with the name,” they said, and he pursed his lips.

“Useless,” he muttered and slammed the book on the table. “Get out.”

Mally bowed, turned for the door, and dragged the stunned Silas out behind them. The door clicked shut, and Antoni didn’t even blink as there was a strangled sob on the other side of the door.

“This way to leave,” Antoni said, and there was a crash in the other room. Oh... Oh, Marcus just broke Caesar’s favorite vase.

Why was he so upset, anyway? Mally was beyond confused, because Marcus had always hated them, hadn’t he? Why was he crying now, when he had tormented them through their whole life? Was that... how he showed love?

Well, it was his future wife’s problem now, not Mally’s, they decided. It was never going to be their problem. Marcus was insane.

Gods. Fuck. They needed to get out of here before someone got suspicious.