By the time soldiers arrived from the castle, nearly an hour had passed, and the fmes which had consumed the manor had all but died. Despite Lucas’ best efforts, many of the servants and henchmen he’d tried so hard to save had suffered the same fate. That was where they found him, kneeling on the ground in front of one of the maids, who had passed away just as they’d ridden up. He was covered in ashes as well as the rags of what had once been a finely tailored suit.

  The very first thing they offered was to treat injuries he didn’t have, but he brushed them off. He wasn’t hurt, not physically, at least, and there was nothing that they could do about anything else. “Don’t worry about me!” Lucas scolded the medic, who offered him a bandage he didn’t need. “Help them!” he yelled with a wave of his hand.

  That sent the man scurrying to do some good, but Lucas reminded himself it wasn’t that guy’s fault. He doesn’t decide anything. He certainly isn’t the one that burned this pce down. These guys weren’t here to help the living or bury the dead. They were here to investigate the damage and make sure the Prince’s pet alchemist was still breathing, and that, more than anything, was the reason he was so angry.

  He was the only one that should have died tonight. Well, he and Adin, of course. That prick deserved dragon fire a lot more than a fall from the fourth floor.

  No matter how quickly they’d been dispatched from the city to learn the truth of what had happened, though, they were already too te. Lucas had already sent away everyone that mattered, and it took very little acting on his part to pretend that they were dead as he greeted the soldiers despondently. One did not have to feign pain when surrounded by the corpses of people they cared about or anguish when the woman they loved had come within one chance errand of joining them.

  When the captain of the group dismounted and walked toward Lucas to say, “Sir, we’re so pleased that you’re alive, but we will need you to—” Lucas punched him right in his stupid mouth before he could finish talking. He tried to take a second swing, too, even as some of the other guards rushed to restrain him.

  “I don’t have to do shit!” Lucas roared, making sure to put on a good show even as he struggled against the guards. “She’s dead! Don’t you get it! She’s dead! They all are! So I don’t give a fuck what you want!”

  In truth, the body he pointed to was one of Danaria’s handmaidens, but they didn’t need to know that. They also didn’t need to know that even now, Cassara had spirited away his fiancé to a cottage she kept at the edge of the Greenwood for drying herbs, and Kar’gandin had loaded a surviving mule with chests of gold to take to his cousins for safekeeping. There was nothing here for them to find or take now, so Lucas raged as much as he liked.

  Even if they could have killed him, they wouldn’t have done it. These were little bitches, and they’d been sent to babysit him. They didn’t even give him the beatdown he deserved for his insolence like a member of the city guard would have done. Instead, the pace guards bound him for his own good and quickly escorted them back to the city.

  As they forcibly removed him from the grounds slung over the side of a horse, Lucas looked to his remaining men with hard eyes. He didn’t say anything. They’d already discussed how this was going to go down, and it was pying out pretty much exactly as he'd told them. Stay focused, save who you can, and then bury the dead and wait for Kar’gandin to give you new orders.

  It was a simple enough pn, but then, it had to be. Their organization was in ruins thanks to the dragon’s attack.

  Lucas contempted that as he was taken back to the castle against his will. He could have avoided that too, he was sure, but that would have only made things worse, and the st thing that he wanted was to give mages an excuse to track him or Danaria down again. It was better if he was safely in hand and everything else was wiped out.

  That was awfully cruel, of course, considering he’d only just returned from Bck Gate. They hadn’t even started their honeymoon period before everything was trashed, and as tough as he sometimes tried to be, that hurt him.

  Those thoughts kept his mind busy the whole way back to Lordanin, and it was only when they entered the pace gates that Lucas noted this was the third time he’d been dragged here against his will. That was almost enough to make him ugh, but he suppressed it. The st thing he was was happy, but he didn’t want these pricks getting the wrong idea, not with the negotiations that were about to come next.

  Remember, Kar’gandin had told him before he’d left with their cash after Kucas had given him the barest run down of the facts. The bitch might have been the one to do this, but he works for her, which means it's on him to make it right. That means he’s going to payin’ us for the foreseeable future, not the other way around!

  The dwarf had taken just a little too much joy in that moment, even for someone who loved cash more than people, and Lucas was a little taken aback by it. Even if he was right, it wasn’t exactly the moment to take a victory p over saving a chest full of gold.

  Still, as he was untied and marched down the halls to the Prince’s private audience chamber, Lucas felt the dwarf’s words resonate. This motherfucker is going to pay for what happened. Someone has to. Damages, compensation for every death, and all our other losses. He told himself as the armed men that were escorting him opened the door.

  That the Prince was still awake despite the te hour did not surprise him. Neither did the fact that he was alone or the fact that he looked to Lucas with annoyance from the moment he entered the room.

  “Have a seat,” the Prince said, waving a hand to him. “You’ve had a long night.” The tone was cold, as always, giving both statements an air of command rather than condolence.

  Lucas didn’t argue. If the man wanted him to ruin his fine embroidered couch with soot stains, then he was happy to oblige.

  “Wine?” the Prince asked, proffering him a gss.

  Wine, drugged (excellent): Poison 2 (acid), euphoria 2 (blurry), mild intoxicant. This drink is likely to calm or stupefy their imbiber, depending on their toughness.

  Lucas didn’t answer. He just shook his head and stared at his feet for a long moment, feigning shell shock, before he asked, “Why am I here?”

  “In this room? Right now?” the Prince asked. “Because I wished to ascertain your safety in tonight's… unorthodox events. Why are you here in general? Well, that’s because you disobeyed my direct orders.”

  “I didn’t do shit,” Lucas said. “You aren’t bming me for Skyra’s rampage. She murdered a hundred people tonight, and I had nothing to do with that.”

  “Nothing?” the Prince raised an eyebrow. “You did precisely what I asked you not to do, so recently, with very predictable results. I thought I made it very clear to you that the woman was both jealous and dangerous.”

  “I didn’t tell her,” Lucas said, “That was all Adin, and I only proposed because he was going to try to marry her off to some old bastard just to spite me. If you don’t believe me, you can ask him.”

  The Prince gazed at him with his bottomless eyes as if attempting to read Lucas’s mind. “Yes, well, as you already know, that will not be possible,” the Prince sighed. “There are a great many people that have had to be disappeared tonight because of things they’ve seen and heard. Did Lord Torvin’s daughter survive, at least?”

  Lucas shook his head. “She was… there’s nothing anyone could do. Almost everyone in that house died, and the survivors… well, they’re scattered across the wn getting what aid they can. I don't expect many of them to make it.”

  Lucas’ paranoia had always told him that this guy could detect lies. He’d thought it was the intelligence elixirs that the gnome made for him, but it could just as easily be some sort of royalty-specific rulership talent.

  “Well, then, I’m very sorry for your loss,” the Prince said finally. “But unfortunately, that change’s nothing. The kingdom still needs you to—”

  “The Kingdom can go to hell!” Lucas spat, noting the shock on the other man’s face that he’d been interrupted. “I’ve done everything you asked for months, and now I’m done. My life is burned down, and I’m over it.”

  “While I sympathize, that is unfortunately not an option,” the Prince sighed, rubbing his temples as if he was attempting to ward off an oncoming migraine. “Tomorrow, people will still wake up and go about their lives. Bread will still need to be baked, shirts will still need to be mended, and you will still need to make your Blue.”

  “Heisenburgle has the recipe. He can make it,” Lucas answered ftly as he stood in an apparent effort to leave.

  “If that were an option, I would do it,” the Prince admitted. “We both know it isn’t, though. The product that Heisenburgle can make is nowhere near as pure as what you can provide, and the Dragoness is less likely than ever to accept substitutes now that she’s been so publicly snubbed.”

  “Well, if you think I’m doing shit for her, then—” Lucas retorted, raising his voice as real anger started to flow through him.

  “Sit down, Lucas,” the Prince answered with a shake of his head. “This is well beyond either of us. Truthfully, making drugs for her is the easy part. She will almost certainly show continued interest in you after this lover's quarrel.”

  “Lover’s quarrel?” he exploded. “If you think that—”

  “It doesn’t matter what I think or what you think,” the Prince answered, showing a hint of anger for the very first time. “That woman is a force of nature, and you are doing a good job of making her obsessed with you. It’s her nature. She hordes the things she covets, and now that you have given her a romantic rival to conquer, she is almost certain to want to cim you. That you may survive the experience is only because I have assured her that you are the only one in existence without pointed ears who is capable of making her the Lwynthenll she craves.”

  “That’s not a favor,” Lucas said, defting as he sat back down.

  “It’s not,” the Prince agreed. “But it is all I can do. That and remind you that the more you antagonize her, the more people will suffer. Next time, she might not just burn down a manor house in a fit of pique. She might burn down half the city. Remember that. Their deaths will be on your head, not mine.”