Kaius was so focused on his conversation with Lord Flowers that he didn’t notice he’d finished his tiny plate of fish and shimmering green sauce. Hells, that was a faux pas they couldn’t afford.

He hated this. It felt like being thrown into battle with both hands tied behind his back. There were far too many rules, and far too many ways to give offence — why couldn’t they just talk. Thankfully, it seemed that Lord Flowers was far more interested in learning about the Path and Tyrants than any small breach of etiquette.

A small legion of servants flooded into the room at the perfect moment, whisking away plates to replace them with the next course. Kaius stared at the plate in front of him, glad for the opportunity to gather his thoughts. Four glistening gems sat shining on the porcelain, two a vibrant forest green and two the colour of freshly spilled blood. They oozed juices, beading droplets running to mingle with a sky-blue smear on the bottom of the plate. Carved fruit of some kind?

He picked up his next set of cutlery, a dainty set better suited for a child's hands than his own, and took a small slice of one of the red ones. Tart juice exploded through his mouth, its freshness fading to a smoky afternote? Strange, but delicious all the same.

Seeing the team of Lords still watching him expectantly, Kaius took a sip of wine to clean his palate.

“I would be happy to discuss our advancement through the Path with you. We have a small matter of our own we hope you would be able to help us with,” Kaius finally said, feeling relieved when Lord Flowers gave him a slight nod.

He still had to tell the man about the damn Droplets of Tyranny first, though. Hells, he didn’t want to do that — it was a damned landmine. At least Olmos didn’t want them to try to squeeze any concessions for the knowledge.

Taking another sip of his wine, Kaius martialed his nerves. Hells, it was just a conversation — he’d dealt with worse. One Julian Flowers couldn’t compare to facing down the Tyrant herself.

“Before I do, there’s something more important you should know — one the Guild insisted we share with you unofficially while we had the opportunity.”

That gave the nobles pause. All four of them stilled, watching him intently.

“You say that Platinums will not hunt for the creatures proactively without incentive? That may not be an issue.”

“Explain,” Lord Flowers said instantly, setting down his cutlery.

“First, let me assure you that everything I'm about to say is something that the Guild is actively in the process of sharing openly in the coming weeks, I—”

Lord Flowers waved his hand sharply to cut off his preamble. “You mentioned that already. The gesture of this Grandmaster is not unnoticed, and will be reciprocated. Now, explain.”

“Demanding bastard, isn’t he?” Kenva said through their communication artefacts.

Kaius grit his teeth to bite back a smile.

“Don’t distract him,” Ianmus chided.

“When the Tyrant died, its remnant Essence condensed into something of a Natural Treasure. A Droplet of Tyranny. Each one can help to force the foundation or reinforcement of an Aspect.” Kaius saw no reason to call it Embodiment — that was a term he’d learnt from Xenanra, and would be a valuable bargaining chip. “They can also advance a person's stage of Refinement. With both those uses the System warned that it should only be done if someone can make no more progress for themselves. More importantly, they can allow someone who was in the second tier or higher during the phase change to ignite their Aspects, though more are required for higher tiers.”

The lords froze, digesting his words. A moment later, Lord Flowers and Frostbloom shared a look, something silent flowing between them. Then Flowers met Kaius’s eyes once more. Gone was his earlier nonchalance, his carefully manufactured mask had shattered into a roaring fire of greed and virulent curiosity. Baron Rosenhall looked even more incensed. The man gripped his cutlery so hard he could faintly hear the metal shrieking in protest.

“Ambitious, that one,” Porkchop noted.

Indeed. The knives were definitely out now.

Lord Flowers took a long drink, his deep red wine vanishing by half. When the glass lowered, his mask was back; his features carved into mundane contemplation.

“Droplets of Tyranny, a fitting name,” he mused. “This gesture means far more than you can imagine. This is exactly the sort of impetus that would motivate even the most stubborn elite across all of Vaastivar. There is much I can do with this, even with only a few short weeks.”

Kaius wanted to breathe out an explosive sigh of relief. Talking with these men felt like juggling live vipers. Thank the gods they were pleased by his reveal, rather than outraged it hadn’t been shared with them immediately. Maybe there was something to Olmos’s words that the Greenseed Dukedoms were a tad more liberal than other states.

“Something of this magnitude demands recompense,” Lord Flowers continued. “I will see to it to clarify the orders of the guard and their watch of the guild — a little reinforcement of your earlier words with them. Alas, the show must play out, but the curtain call comes soon. My father is in the final stages of discussion with a few of his fellow Dukes, as well as foreign powers. It is a new world — one that requires a new approach.”

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Kaius blinked in surprise.

“Somehow I doubt that he means that society should shift to a purely meritocratic approach,” Ianmus silently scoffed.

“Oh?” Kaius replied to Lord Flowers, though inwardly he agreed wholeheartedly with his friend's comment.

The Lord nodded. “On review, we have seen some merit in the approach of Mystral. An academy system, helping those brightest and most capable to reach their full potential. With skilled tutors, providing expertise on the guild list, and our own. A place where even the most baseborn can raise themselves to a life of higher bearing.”

An academy. Right. No doubt the most valuable and potent Skills would be reserved for those who had proven themselves ‘loyal’ through a thousand binding oaths. Kaius also doubted that the Dukes or anyone else would unify and pool their Skills. That would mean sharing their deepest secrets with their political rivals.

He supposed he couldn’t hope for much more, even if it sounded like little more than a sectoral feeder that led straight to the mouths of noble houses. If it was open to anyone, it was far more than anything else that had come before. Even the Spires only took a limited number of scholarship students per year.

Though Kaius didn’t doubt that Lord Flowers had picked up on some of his suspicion, the man didn’t comment on it. Instead, he only smiled and ate a small slice of vibrant green fruit from his plate.

“Regardless, that is grand politics. You mentioned to Sir Galiead that Aanthrast Library had brought you to my city, and now you say you face difficulties. Speak, and let us see if I can assist.”

They really didn’t forget anything, did they?

“We did, and we have,” Kaius responded, nodding. “The matter we are investigating is a personal one, but it involves ancient history. Ianmus, my mage, had been invited by an Archivist to work on a project before he joined my team. We’d been hoping to meet with the man, but there’s an issue — he’s gone missing.”

Lord Flower’s glass of wine froze halfway to his lips. “Kanmost.”

“Then you are aware. Ianmus knows him well, and he is rather pivotal to our research. We want to find him. We know that his house is being watched, and not even the curator is allowed in. Clearly, there has been some sort of foul play — can you share anything? We’d be happy to help.”

At Kaius’s far left, the rogue of Flower’s team — Adrian Steelroot — narrowed his eyes at him. The naked suspicion was stark, utterly at odds with the manufactured pleasantries from earlier. Something had turned them sour. Why suspect them? They had plenty good reason to look for the man that had nothing to do with his current project.

“No,” Lord Flowers said firmly.

“Excuse me?”

“No. Ask for something else. The matter of Kanmost is a private affair that directly relates to the interests of House Flowers. I cannot, and will not allow unknown third parties from abroad to intrude, no matter their affiliation and what they offer. Not even if you plainly hold some shortcut to the reinforcement of Aspects.”

Kaius simply stared at the man, astounded. He could ignore the subtle jibe at their capabilities, and the man’s inability to acknowledge that they were simply more talented, but the caustic tone? Why?

“This dinner is over,” Flowers said suddenly, rising to his feet.

“What?” Kenva asked, drawing a frown of displeasure from Lord Frostbloom.

“The servants will see you out. I will be in touch if anything else is required of you.” Flowers continued, staring Kaius down with hard eyes as his team rose to join him. “A word of warning. If you forcefully intrude on the investigation of Kanmost’s disappearance, it will be seen as direct action against my house. You might have bested a Tyrant, but not all threats are so bold and blatant.”

The lords turned, flowing out of the room in lockstep.

As the door slammed shut, Porkchop bent down and inhaled the last of his plate of fruit. Kaius stared at him in disbelief, still trying to piece together what they could have done to so blatantly upset the lord.

“What? It’s good.”

Kaius just sighed, before the door behind them clicked open. A maid entered, wearing a flowing dress of the same vibrant green that their servers had been wearing. She gave them a short bow.

Before he stood to leave, Kaius wolfed down his own carved fruit. Porkchop had a point.

…

“If they’re uninvolved I'll snap my bow over my damn knee. Bastards are guilty as sin,” Kenva growled through their communication artefacts, eyeing every shaped rosebush and stained manor window that they passed with disgust.

They were well out of the central district by now, a bare block or two before they entered the richer part of the Bramton borough where they were staying. Still, the areas surrounding the quarters of the blue-blooded were nearly as extravagant, and that was clearly enough for their ranger.

Gods, Kaius couldn’t wait to get back to the Ruby Crown. That meal had been a disaster — he could only hope that the man would stay good on his word that he would get the city guard to ease up on hassling delvers.

Guilewind would have his hide if they’d managed to make the situation worse.

“It just doesn’t make any sense,” Kaius insisted. “Why the naked hostility? It’s damn near the most blatantly guilty thing I've seen in my life! The four of them fucking breathed politics.”

“Someone’s got them by the balls,” Porkchop replied.

“Exactly!”

“That doesn’t mean they're innocent though,” Porkchop said.

Kaius knew that — but it was still strange, and completely outside of his expectations.

“Well, one thing for certain,” Ianmus said bitterly. “Whatever my friend found, it was credible and valuable. It would explain the reaction. Either they’re hiding their prize, or they’ve lost it.”

Kaius gave his friend a long look. “We’ll find him.”

“I certainly hope so.”

“Kaius!” a familiar voice yelled urgently as they took the next corner that led to the official edge of Bramton.

He snapped towards the call to see Lyren waving frantically from across the street, still wearing the grey dress of her librarian uniform despite the fact her shift must have ended hours ago. His brow furrowed.

What was she doing here?