38. Chapter Thirty-Eight
I had no godsdamned right to be jealous, and I knew it.
That hadn’t stopped the foul cloud of envy and resentment from following me all the way back to headquarters that morning. I had other important matters to focus on today, but those marks he’d left on her neck…
It was my turn to blow off some steam.
I made my way over to one of several training rooms, where we had rows of striking dummies, exercise equipment, and racks of practice weaponry, intentionally kept dull to avoid having our recruits maim each other. That said, I preferred to practice with my own weapons.
I felt more like myself with the Scáthic daggers in hand. Whether that was because of their origin—or despite it—I didn’t know, and quite frankly, I didn’t care to explore the matter. All I knew was that they were perfectly balanced blades, and I had carried them with me for so long that the weapons felt like an extension of my own arms when I wielded them. My blind eye put me at a disadvantage in battle, but my Shadows and my daggers tipped the scales back in my favor.
Strike.
Straw sprayed off the side of the striking dummy as I ran myself through drills in my head, trying to recalibrate my peace of mind.
Parry.
I wondered if she’d see him again tonight. Mason, whoever the fuck that was, was a lucky bastard. If she’d met him while out with Laurel last night, what were the odds he’d be joining them at The Clover tonight?
Strike.
The blow I had just landed would have been fatal to most, targeting the carotid artery on the dummy’s neck. A well-placed laceration there could produce lethal results, as the target would bleed out from the jugular quite rapidly.
Dodge.
Not that we were typically trained to use lethal force in the Elder Guard these days.
Lunge.
No, I had learned much of that elsewhere.
Strike.
I really, really had no right to be jealous, I reminded myself, breathing hard. For every person Arken had taken home over the last several months, I had probably taken home tenfold. This simmering envy was both unhealthy for me and unfair to her.
I wasn’t mad at her, though. I was mad at him. Not that that was any more rational, but for fucks sake. How are you going to take a woman like Arken to bed and not even fuck her well?
I set my daggers to the side and began to align the striking dummies in a pattern I could weave between for additional agility training. Stealth scenarios required more than just raw strength or even skill with a blade—you needed strategy and speed. I also liked to train myself in hand-to-hand combat, for situations where I might be disarmed.
These drills in particular would’ve been better with a sparring partner, but I wasn’t about to subject anyone to the mood I was in. Instead, I was trying to sweat it out like a fever.
Arken had looked at me so incredulously when I’d suggested he didn’t perform that I think she was being genuine. She really didn’t think it was possible for sex to relieve her anxieties about the exams she’d be taking today.
If only it were possible for me to prove her wrong.
A bit presumptuous, don’t you think? It’s not like you even know what she likes in bed.
I didn’t. And it didn’t matter, I reminded myself. This was neither my problem, nor my concern. It wasn’t like the man had mistreated her—she seemed perfectly content with her evening. If that hadn’t been the case, I wasn’t sure that this Mason would still be breathing.
What? It was perfectly normal to be protective of your friends, and Arken had quickly become the best friend I’d ever had.
After training, I cleaned myself up, returning to my office to find a note from one of my informants—a woman who went by the pseudonym of “Holly.” Even I didn’t know her real name.
Meet me at Roshana’s. Room 3. Preferably before sunset.
— H
I had spent the better part of my afternoon training, so I swung by the coffers to procure payment for Holly’s information, whatever it may be, before I quickly made my way over to the Merchant’s Quarter.
This time of day, Roshana’s tavern was beginning to fill, so the flirty barmaid didn’t have much attention to spare for me. She simply nodded off towards the kitchens, where a number of private rooms were hidden in plain sight for those who wanted to partake in pleasures beyond food and drink. I had never indulged in such pleasures with Holly the way I had with Ro on one occasion—though I wasn’t entirely against the idea.
Hypocrite.
I nearly jolted at the invasive burst of self-loathing that had bubbled up, seemingly out of nowhere. I usually kept a better grip on such things, though the accusation wasn’t wrong. I had spent the day pissy about my best friend having some harmless fun in the sack, but here I was considering fucking one of my own informants?
Gods, I was an asshole.
I found the third door and knocked twice.
“Come in,” a sultry, throaty voice called out.
That certainly was Holly. I stepped inside, closing the door behind me, promptly sealing it with Shadow. One of the many practical applications of my arcane abilities.
“Prompt as ever, Captain.”
“I figured I might as well come early. Wouldn’t want to eat up the time of your other clientele.”
“Hmm, you could always just join in so that I could charge them extra.”
“I’m afraid even your clientele couldn’t afford me, H.”
She snorted.
“Fair enough, Vistarii. I do have a client coming around at sunset, so let’s get down to business, shall we?”
“Indeed. What do you have for me?”
“My sources say that the Elder Guard has started making more… official alliances these days with the other territories, is that true?”
I nodded slowly, but didn’t divulge details. Holly had her own ulterior motives, often trying to subtly squeeze me for information while giving up her own.
“How’s the relationship with Vindyrst?” she purred.
“Why do you ask?”
“Curiosity. And it’s relevant, I swear. You see… I heard there has been a certain degree of unrest in the mountains these days. That perhaps, Kole Zephirin is not keeping a tight enough leash on his various earls and viscounts, and his merchants run amuck with overtaxing the poorest regions in the territory. There may be talk of riots to come… and some that have already taken place.”
Some that have already taken place?
That tracked with what we’d discovered at the town hall meeting in Pyrhhas, though—that tensions were rising in Vindyrst. But how could they have escalated so quickly without any warning? We’d heard nothing about this from the House of Gales.
If her information was good, and it almost always was, that could spell out some pretty major problems for the work we were trying to do with other territories.
“And where might these theoretical riots have taken place?” I asked her.
“The most noteworthy would be what took place in Squaller’s Peak. It might do you and your men well to dig around a little, particularly there. See how the miners of that area and their families are being treated by Joseph Jerricks and his ilk.”
I nodded.
Squaller’s Peak wasn’t a particularly large city in Vindyrst, but it was a noteworthy trade checkpoint between the House of Gales, the territories in Samhaven, and several trade routes between both Novos and Irros. If civil unrest was brewing there with such significance, it could cause all sorts of problems that would affect the rest of Atlas, too.
So why the actual fuck hadn’t the Vindyrstian Guard informed us of this?
“Any idea on timings, here, H?”
“It’s been at least a week,” she replied, not looking at me. She sat down at a large vanity, focused on her own reflection as she applied kohl to her eyelids. “Maybe two.”
That was more than enough time for those windy bastards to have sent word of revolt. What were they trying to hide? This was… troubling, but extremely useful information, as Holly often provided.
“Good to know,” I murmured. “Anything else of note?”
“Depends on how heavy your pockets are feeling tonight, Captain.”
I tossed her the pouch that I had in my pockets, one with quite a bit more Lyra than I usually paid my informants. She was my most expensive human resource, by far.
As she picked up the cloth pouch and weighed it casually in one palm, she grinned.
“You do like to spoil me, don’t you?” Holly purred, unlocking the armoire beside her and placing the pouch surreptitiously underneath a pile of silks, where I could see a false bottom in the drawer.
I gave her a wink. I wasn’t particularly in the mood to flirt tonight, but she would get pouty if I didn’t play along. And Fates knew I was hardly in the mood to deal with that.
“It could be that much of this is happening right under the nose of the Lord of Gales, while he remains blissfully unaware… and that much of what’s been covered up has been orchestrated by a certain Lady instead.”
Fucking Cecelia.
Of course.
I pressed two fingers against the bridge of my nose, already irritated by the conversations to come, and who might have to get involved.
“Your company has been diverting as ever, Holly,” I offered, pushing myself back upright from the wall where I’d been leaning. “I would be more than happy to indulge further, should anything else come up.”
Sunset was fast approaching, and I knew better than to waste her time.
“Always a pleasure, Captain Vistarii. You know where to find me if you’re in need of any other manner of indulgence.”
I saw myself out, and offered Roshana a quick, chaste kiss on the cheek before I departed—a thank-you for her continued hospitality and discretion. She just swatted me away.
“Oh, get out of here, will ya? You’re going to scare off my tipping scoundrels.”
“You have a good night, Ro.”