Argrave fled from Kin’s End as fast as the horses would carry them. The scouting they did was less detailed than usual in their haste—it would be more important to make it to the Tower of the Gray Owl than it would be to dodge potential ambushes, and much of the area ahead was simply a vast plain that required no scouting.

But the tower was not so far, fortunately. As they grew nearer, it loomed over their head more and more, like a great gray rod planted in the ground by the gods. Even from a great distance, Argrave could see the sparking enchantments holding such a titanic piece of architecture upright, the magic grappling with both the fast winds at high altitudes and the great weight of the tower itself.

There were stables a fair distance away from the tower. Argrave and his companions moved their horses near them, the creatures panting with exhaustion. They had very nearly ridden them to death. Once there, Argrave dismounted, legs stiff and unwieldy after the breakneck ride.

“You there,” Argrave told a stable worker. “Take care of our horses. Just remember my face, give our horses back when we leave,” he said, handing the boy five gold coins. “Five more when we return,” he promised. He didn't know if they'd leave by horseback, though.

The boy nodded quickly, seemingly terrified of Argrave. With that, they removed their luggage from their spot atop the horses and left, heading to the entrance of the tower. Argrave felt an urge to sprint.

“Can they enter without badges?” asked Anneliese, referring to Galamon and Durran. “As I recall these places have magical restriction for those without them.”

“First couple floors have stupidly expensive temporary lodgings, yeah. Nobility study here—some of them bring servants, retinues of knights… the Order makes money by charging hefty rent,” Argrave nodded. “Beyond those first floors, no. The restriction will kick in.”

Once Argrave’s foot met the stone of the tower… he took a deep breath and exhaled. “Christ… we made it. Most terrifying horseback ride of my life. Or maybe it was the first one,” Argrave conceded.

“What now?” questioned Galamon, directing their attention back to the important matters.

“Now…” Argrave nodded, recalling what he had planned. “Now, we head to the fourth floor, get you two registered for temporary lodging, establish the purpose of our visit. From there… I don’t know how long we’ll stay. Ideally, it’ll be a very short time. Realistically, I’m not sure how easy Castro will be able to win over. If that fails, we might have to turn to another S-rank mage for aid, which would take… I don’t know,” Argrave shook his head, exhausted.

Already, people were staring at them from their eye-catching appearance alone. Once news of Induen’s death reached here, he was sure they’d be the center of attention. He’d probably be doing no favors for his reputation in the Order of the Gray Owl by blatantly abusing their policy of neutrality, but he didn’t especially care. He’d be paying them back for this favor in time.

“Let’s go, then,” Argrave nodded, steeling himself. He felt like a lion among sheep—he’d just killed a prince, and now he was preparing himself to have a pleasant conversation with a receptionist.

Yes as he walked, he noticed someone distinctly moving towards him. At first, his frayed nerves made him interpret the action in a negative light. As the person grew closer, however, his paranoia morphed into surprise.

Elias of House Parbon approached Argrave. Argrave stared at his waxpox-scarred eye in shock, yet the heir to the Margravate of House Parbon was smiling.

“And here I thought Stain would be wasting all of our time,” Elias said. “Argrave. I—” he paused. “Your eyes. My father told me about it, but I didn’t think that… I suppose seeing is believing.”

Argrave recovered from his shock quickly. “Yeah. It seems we both had some changes on that front. What the hell are you doing here?”

Elias’ finger brushed just beneath his eye. “Don’t worry about this. I made a mistake, that’s the bottom line.” He studied Argrave’s party. “Nikoletta and Mina are both here, as well.”

“What?” Argrave’s brows furrowed. “What’s going on?”

to talk about the future,” Elias said plainly. “My father sent me here to talk to you.

on his feet and looked back to Anneliese. She nodded, confirming Elias’ sincerity. He crossed his arms and looked back to Elias. “I just recently had a talk

not catching Argrave’s meaning.

joke,” Argrave shook his head. “I mean… Christ, you

Elias admitted. “Stain said he heard rumors you broke into the B-rank and predicted you

been so easily predicted. At the same time, he thought of

have guards with

we can stay

as you answer us

may regret that,” Argrave

#####

Elenore’s greenhouse, admiring the vibrancy of the garden. Or at least, so it seemed—though his face smiled,

eventually made it into the central square, where a great fountain dominated the center. He stepped past small streams that flowed out of the water show, walking towards a pink metal table just beside it. Princess Elenore sat there, wearing green just as ever. She heard his steps and faced him as he

“Hello, sister,” Levin greeted.

“Levin,” she returned passively.

deep breath. “It always surprises me that you

pulled back a chair and sat

it you will not be attending Magnus’ funeral?” Levin began, setting his hands upon the

and bugs in the greenhouse chirped as both of them let

leave the

nodded. “Or so father

smiled pleasantly. “I imagine Magnus’ murderer

smiled in kind. “Have you not heard? Orion killed his murderer. So he claims, anyway. Who am I to doubt him? I was not there. He died by strange magic foreign to Vasquer. But I will be going, if that’s

event with such pride the phrase

the wetlands to discover why the plague was

chair. “Our selfish brother does something entirely selfless, for reasons I could not begin

he’d discovered before he died,” Elenore mused. “That someone might inform me. And I might

then leaned in and placed his elbows on the pink table. “So many tragedies and near-tragedies

not close to you?”

But I do wonder why my sister expends so much

say,”

to the side, admiring the fountain as it poured. “It is simply vexing as to why you go to such lengths for a baseborn. So many cards used,

“Maybe,” she conceded.

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