Jackal Among Snakes

The family of House Parbon ate in a quiet, if harmonious atmosphere. The Margrave ate the same thing he had with every meal—a simple steak, unseasoned, with water. His eyes fell upon the gray-haired woman beside his daughter, still eating quietly. “Is everything alright, Ridia?” the Margrave questioned.

“Oh,” she lifted her head, as though drawn from a daydream. “Oh—umm, yes. Everyone has been very kind to me here.”

The Margrave nodded. “I apologize that my son could not be here. I promise you that Elias will make it up to you as your fiancé.”

“He can hardly be—”

The doors to the room opened and Ridia flinched, cutting her sentence off. Argrave stood there, wearing the same gray leather armor as he had the past few days—it was clean now, though. His three companions stood just behind him. He scanned the room.

“Thought there’d be more than just us…” Argrave said hesitantly.

Reinhardt gestured to the chairs opposite Ridia and Rose. “Sit,” he commanded.

Argrave nodded without protest, then moved to sit. The Margrave took a piece of paper and stowed it away in his pocket, then adjusted some of his cutlery. Argrave hesitated to sit right next to Reinhardt, but eventually he swallowed and did so, sitting quite rigidly and politely.

He briefly looked at Rose of Parbon. He wasn’t particularly worried about her—he was sure he left a good impression, even if he wasn’t 100% confident he’d sold her on his ideas. Someone would need to be delusional to guess the truth about Argrave. No one would assume he was a different person entirely, even in a world of magic.

“Fill four plates.” the Margrave commanded a serving staff off to the side.

“Ah—three,” Argrave amended. “Galamon prepares his own food—he’s very particular. It would be impossible to sustain such a physique otherwise, no?”

The Margrave frowned, then amended, “Bring platters, let them serve themselves. Some are… larger.”

Argrave had no protest to this. He greeted everyone sitting at the table with silent gestures, then finally locked his gaze on the Margrave.

“So, what did you wish to talk to me about?” Argrave smiled.

The Margrave fiddled with his cutlery, then planted a fork in his steak. “I sent men to the Low Way of the Rose to verify your claims,” he began. “They’ve been… delayed.”

Anneliese frowned and tapped Argrave’s foot with hers. He didn’t turn his head, but he acknowledged her signal. This was something they’d devised in private. Reinhardt was lying, and her tapping her foot against his was their signal.

ignorant of their exchange. “I bear no hostility towards you. Considering the plague and the war, I think it would be best if you

is scared of disease and war?

who can’t command a legion of knights to swarm into here,” Argrave held out his hand to silence the man, then smiled pleasantly. “You may know that the Burnt Desert is a little… unsafe, shall we say? One might call it a hellish place. And by ‘one,’ I mean ‘everyone.’ A little danger makes

interest… to stay in my

Unlike that staring contest they’d had long ago,

He placed one big, gauntleted hand on her wrist. “And that is more than enough for me to set aside

again, but he simply watched Reinhardt meet his

not aggressive, or mad, he’s just… I can’t make sense of this. I’m having dinner with someone who thinks I crippled his daughter, alongside that very daughter, and they’re trying to persuade me to

swallowed. “I do have much to ask about the war. Do you think I could ask questions on that

took his hand off his daughter’s wrist, then said hesitantly, “I try to avoid discussing affairs of

fine,” Rose interjected. “We rarely have guests, and I am not so fragile that I would collapse from a few where you speak of

have no

“Never mind,” he

grand platters of food on the center. Argrave eyed the meatier parts of the

portion. “What are the big happenings

Margrave said heavily, placing both his arms on

food on the table, feeling disrespectful. “What?” he asked, and

rebels, he left that part unspoken.

Bruno,

the Margrave grunted gruffly,

know of your people and its culture… that must have weakened support for Vasquer

looked at her

voice dead and harsh as

lost in thought. Then, she continued, “And this plague—has

frowning. “I cannot say with certainty… but

she pressed further. “From one point,

pointed inquiries, Argrave caught onto what she was implying and stiffened. The Margrave was a bit slower and answered her question no more than what

Argrave suggested quietly, and Anneliese lowered her