Commerce Emperor Chapter 11: Assassin's Creed (Patreon)

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Six years ago, I had worked up the nerve to invite Mersie for a date at Ermeline’s best tea shop. We had been both fresh out of Sforza’s private tutoring for young criminals; I was made a clerk in his underground empire, keeping track of which bribe went to which pocket, while Mersie gathered information under the guise of a housemaid. In retrospect, her uncanny ability to infiltrate a noble household undetected should have clued me in that my girlfriend might be keeping secrets from me.

The date had gone well. We’d drank Seukaian tea, laughed, held hands while walking near the canals, and then had passionate sex in the back of a warehouse used to smuggle drugs and Iremian contraband. Typical teenage shenanigans.

Six years forward to the present moment, I sipped the cup in my hand and immediately recognized the fruity flavor. Seukaian green tea. The same one we drank back then. She remembered our first date as vividly as I did.

“Do you like the tea?” Mersie asked me with a sweet smile. “I knew you were unhappy I couldn’t serve it to you in Ermeline.”

I felt a pang of nostalgia, but not enough for it to distract me. “Did you steal it from the duke’s reserves?”

She gave me an offended look. “No.”

“Then you bought it.” A gesture that carried great significance nowadays. “The price of Seukaian tea has gone up tenfold since the Shinkoku started blockading their ports.”

Mersie avoided my gaze. “I am well-off.”

“How much?”

Mersie hesitated a bit before answering with another question. “How much did this city invest in your new company?”

I squinted at her. “Thirty-thousand gold.”

“I’m amazed at what you could achieve with so little.” Her smile was sincere, but it felt a little condescending to me. “I could buy it ten times over.”

Ten times over. Three-hundred thousand gold coins in cash would put her in the weight class as the great dukes and merchant princes. I would have snorted in disbelief, but Mersie had been able to hide so many things from me… I had to consider the possibility she was indeed telling the truth.

“Ten times over,” I repeated while struggling to hold back a laugh. “That’s rich. You wouldn’t accept a handful of coins the last time we met.”

Mersie chuckled. “It is not because I am relatively well-off–”

“Rich,” I corrected her. I couldn’t stand false modesty. “Or eminently taxable, if you want a flowery alternative.”

“–that I do not understand the value of money,” she said with a wide grin, ignoring my jap. “I’ve spent half my life first at the orphanage and then in Sforza’s employ. The few coins you offered me meant more than a gold statue from Archfrost’s king.”

My goddess, and all these times I treated her to dinner because I thought Sforza didn’t pay her enough for her work… I felt cheated.

Still, Mersie’s net worth gave me a good amount of information. Considering she had lost her entire family and joined Sforza’s orphanage over a decade ago, I tried to remember all of the great noble or merchant houses that suffered tragedy in the last fifteen years or so. A candidate came up in my mind.

They did have a daughter, I thought. A dead daughter… but the timeline would fit. “Is your family name Salvadoreen, Mersie?”

Mersie’s butler gave a dark look, his hand twitching on his sword’s hilt. “You’ve always been too smart for your own good,” his mistress said with a sigh. “That's why I had to break up with you.”

“You would have had to kill me otherwise?” I asked, suddenly on edge.

“Robin, I would never…” Mersie’s expression darkened into a scowl. She appeared sincerely outraged. “For the goddess’ sake, we dated for two years. We fucked. In my bed.”

I remembered it fondly to this day. “That didn’t save your last lover.”

“I slept with him for a purpose, nothing more.” Mersie crossed her arms, her eyebrows furrowing. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be, Robin.”

I snorted. “You’ve lied to me since the day we met, what did you expect?”

To her credit, Mersie had the decency to look ashamed. Her sheepish embarrassment appeared genuine, though she was such a good actress I doubted my own eyes. It took her a few seconds to recover her composure.

“I wasn’t lying about everything,” Mersie said, her voice weaker than before. “I… I truly did consider dropping my plans to follow you here.”

“But you didn’t,” I pointed out.

Mersie’s retainer, Camilus, grunted and came to his mistress’ rescue. “With all due respect, Lord Merchant, my lady planned her revenge for fifteen years,” he said with a deep, dignified voice. “That she even considered leaving it behind to elope with you gave me pause.”

“I feel affection for you, Robin, but I have a duty to fulfill,” Mersie insisted with a sigh. “While this might sound naïve to you, I carried the hope we could start over here.”

I shrugged. “Not gonna lie, that idea sounds compromised.”

Words were one thing and actions were another. I still liked Mersie, mostly due to all our history, but it didn’t change the fact she never truly trusted me the way I did. She had a long way to go if she wanted to ‘start over.’

“I understand,” Mersie said with that same blank, emotionless expression she used to hide her true feelings. “Many things have changed between us since we last met. We both have marks now.”

“And from what you say, we share a common enemy.” I sipped my tea. “Are the Knots responsible for the Goldport Massacre?”

Mersie nodded sharply, her gaze hardening.

House Salvadoreen had been the ruling family of Goldport, one of the richest cities in the Riverland Federation. Their dynasty of merchant princes went all the way back to the nation’s founding, when it seceded from the Everbright Empire. Though it fought on the other side of the independence war, House Salvadoreen kept strong and amicable ties with its former homeland.

Enough, in fact, that they became a common shelter for exiled imperial nobles.

“Nineteen years ago, a league of nobles launched a coup in the Everbright Empire over Emperor Juztinian’s senatorial reform,” Mersie explained. “Since he couldn’t send away half of his supporters, the emperor sent his children away to protect them from the following civil war.”

Which was how Therese ended up in Archfrost in the first place, from what I gathered. “House Salvadoreen took in the future Empress Isabel and financially supported her faction,” I recounted. “They always did bet on the right horse.”

Mersie nodded sharply. “When the rebellion was crushed and a grateful Isabel ascended to the throne three years later, my family reached the apex of its power.”

But when you reach the top of the world, the only way to go is down, I thought. House Salvadoreen had made enemies during the conflict, and fifteen years ago, they seized their chance to strike.

“I will never forget that night,” Mersie whispered with an ugly look in her beautiful eyes. Her fingers twitched in barely-controlled fury. “My father held a private party for my birthday. I was so shy back then that he only invited a handful of people. Our family and our closest friends.”

I already knew how it turned out. The massacre was a well-known tragedy. “You don’t have to give me all the ugly details,” I tried to reassure her. “I won’t lie and say I can imagine–”

“No, you can’t, Robin,” Mersie cut in, her tone oozing with venom. “You can’t imagine watching your mother’s severed head rolling at your feet, or your father nailed to a wall by a throwing knife, or your childhood playmate being eaten alive by a monster as if she were a snack. You can’t imagine it.”

I flinched at her words. The hate in Mersie’s voice was cold like winter’s heart, yet so vivid and intense that it could almost taste its bitterness in the air. The sheer pressure coming off her reminded me of Belgoroth’s berserk flame in all of its terror. My old friend carried a terrible wound in her heart, one that only festered with the years rather than heal.

“I’m…” I gulped. “I didn’t mean to–”

“The priests say the dead carry no grudge into the Soulforge,” Mersie interrupted me with a cold, lifeless voice. Her hand gripped her cup so hard it started to crack. “That their souls are wiped clean of sins so that they may enjoy a new peaceful life. But they’re wrong. The dead carry their pain to the other side too. Their suffering keeps them from resting. I’ve seen it.”

Fifteen years ago, an armed band broke into the Salvadoreen’s villa and slaughtered everyone inside. The slaughter was so atrocious, so sudden and unexpected, that it birthed a Blight. A curse not as dangerous as the one that threatened to swallow Snowdrift, but one that still lingered to this day.

The truth behind the massacre, let alone who ordered it, never came to light. There were simply too many suspects and too few witnesses. No one understood how a group of killers could wipe out the Salvadoreen’s guards on their lonesome and leave their mansion undetected. Some suspected the Assassin was somehow summoned early, but no Assassin had ever left dismembered corpses and severed heads behind.

But since Mersie mentioned a monster, I could guess who achieved that gruesome feat.

“Demons,” I whispered. “You were attacked by demons.”

“A few.” Mersie sneered in disgust. “Most were just men. Greedy, heartless men.”

Mersie was right: I couldn’t imagine what she went through. From what I heard, the killers left no survivors. In some cases, it took the investigators days to find all the victims’ lost body parts.

“Camilus took me to safety in a secret panic room,” Mersie whispered with a dark gaze. Her retainer straightened up, his eyes betraying his sorrow. “One of my playmates… She was a commoner around my age, a blonde too. The assassins mistook her for me.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. After a moment’s hesitation, I put my hand on her own. “It’s awful.”

“I…” Her fingers grabbed mine and held on to them tightly. “When the screams ended… Camilus and I walked out of the panic room to find everyone dead.”

She had been seven back then. Seven.

“My family and retainers’ body parts were splattered everywhere… but then they pulled themselves back and the blood grew faces screaming with their voices…” Mersie turned toward the window, in the direction of the Gilded Wolf. “My family is still trapped in that mansion, Robin. Their souls won’t find rest.”

Then she met my gaze, her eyes cold as ice.

“Not until I kill every last one of them,” she said with grim determination. “All those murderers and fiends. None must survive.”

Mersie carried wounds as deep as the sea. I wish I knew which balm to use to soothe them, but I feared no word of comfort would do.

“I’m sorry,” was all I could say.

“I know,” she answered softly, letting go of my hand. “You understand now why I couldn’t leave with you. I had a duty.”

So many years, and she never gave away a hint. “Sforza was involved, wasn’t he?”

Mersie nodded curtly. “We suspected him, and Duke Ermeline too. That’s why I joined the orphanage. We already knew they recruited children, so… I stayed close and waited for my chance.”

She infiltrated the enemy from the ground up, gathering intel and waiting for her time as I did since she was a child. “How did you remain undetected?”

“Camilus thought it best that I fake my death. So long as my family’s killers believed me gone, they wouldn’t look for me. So we secretly transferred the lion’s share of my family’s assets to a web of false identities.” She chuckled dryly. “I like Mersie the most.”

“I hope I gave you a few good memories,” I said, trying to cheer her up a little.

“Yes, you did.” Mersie snorted lightly. “Except your cooking. You were terrible.”

“You said you loved my pasta.” Had that been a lie too? From the way Mersie smiled thinly at me, yes, it had been.

I grabbed my cup, finishing my tea while mulling over everything Mersie had told me today. A heavy silence fell on the room, with neither of us willing to break it. Camilus stood beside his mistress like a living wall of stone.

“That’s a lot to take in,” I said. “I’m truly sorry for what you went through.”

Her nod was curt, but thankful.

“However.” I gathered my breath. “However, it doesn’t change the fact you’ve lied to me since the moment we met. I never held anything back from you. Why didn’t you tell me anything back?”

“I wanted to, but… I could never bring myself to. I’m sorry.” Mersie avoided my gaze. “It’s still difficult for me to trust anyone except for Camilus. Some of the people who ordered my family’s massacre were friends. Or at least, my parents mistook them for friends.”

I suppose I couldn’t blame her for being careful… but damn it, we had known each other for decades. I understood her motives, yet I still felt the sting of betrayal.

“Were some of these so-called friends among Ermeline’s nobility?” I guessed.

“Yes.” Mersie sneered and gestured at Camilus to bring more tea. “They funded the attack so they could steal my house’s businesses and trade routes. Imperial nobles opposed to the empress also contributed.”

“And they were part of the Knots?” I asked while Camilus refueled my cup.

She shook her head. “Most were dupes. They didn’t know they funded a demonic cult rather than an assassin ring. Duke Ermeline, however, was one of their members. Sforza was in the process of being ‘introduced’ to the organization.”

So that was why he had a Devil’s Coin, I thought. I suspected Duke Ermeline’s secret orgy gatherings were meant to cultivate associates and members of the cult. In spite of all the corruption I had uncovered in Ermeline, I clearly hadn’t dug deep enough. “What would you have done if you hadn’t received the Assassin’s mark?”

“I told you. Poison. For most.” Mersie shrugged. “I intended to torture the duke for information with a knife, but the sight of my mark alone frightened him enough for him to spill the beans.”

And she said that with such casual detachment too… That wasn’t her first time killing, I guessed. She wouldn’t have switched plans so swiftly within hours of gaining her power otherwise. She was an assassin before she became the Assassin.

“Thank you, Camilus,” Mersie thanked her retainer as he served her tea. “Does the name Chastel ring any bells, Robin?”

“No.”

“He’s the one who led the assault on my family’s home. Your friend, Marika, she knows him well. That demon leaves pain and fear wherever he goes.” Mersie blew on her tea to cool it down. “He’s an enforcer for the Knot of Wrath. They’re the cult’s muscle.”

I frowned at the mention of Marika. Did Mersie investigate my allies? No, most likely she just gathered information on all Knot-related activities. Since Marika’s husband had joined with Belgoroth’s cult, Chastel’s name probably appeared somewhere in her case. I would ask her for details later.

Mersie exchanged a glance with her retainer. Camilus brought a pile of documents out of their travel bags and handed them to me. After a moment’s hesitation, I quickly started reviewing them.

The scrolls contained an irregular collection of notes, investigator reports, intercepted letters, and even missives stolen from the Arcane Abbey’s inquisition division. This pile of paper was more valuable than its weight in gold.

“Here’s what we gathered over the years,” Mersie explained as I read the documents. “There are seven Knots, each working under the patronage of a Demon Ancestor. The Knot of Greed gathers funds and funds the various cults. The Knot of Wrath kills their enemies. The Knot of Lust recruits new members and hunts down traitors. The Knot of Sloth creates monsters in the wilderness. The Knot of Gluttony hoards magical secrets. The Knot of Envy steals information and runs sabotage operations. And the Knot of Pride corrupts political institutions from within.”

I felt like a child who had stumbled on a treasure trove. Some of the letters belonged to imperial nobles involved in the Coup of 671 and the following civil war that shook the Everbright Empire. Others mentioned spies of the Knots at work in Irem and the Fire Islands.

Their web spans all of Pangeal, I thought grimly. Seven cults working in unison towards society’s collapse. “How long have they been in operation?” I asked Mersie. “Some of these papers go back decades.”

“Centuries for some. The Imperial Coup, the troubles in Archfrost, the civil war…” Mersie sipped her tea, her gaze hard as stone. “They’ve laid the groundwork for many of today’s tragedies.”

“Why haven’t you given this to the Arcane Abbey?” These documents were better off shared with the world rather than kept in a bag.

“I do not trust the Abbey. The Knots have infiltrated them, though to what degree I cannot say.” Mersie joined her hands. “I believe the Fatebinder is keeping secrets from us. From everyone in the world.”

“I share your suspicions.” Preventing the Demon Ancestors from gathering more essence couldn’t explain everything I’d learned so far. “From the way the Knots call us false heroes and the difficulties in gathering information on our powers, the Arcane Abbey is clearly withholding information.”

Mersie took the documents from me and started flipping their pages. “Robin, what I am about to share with you is something very few people are aware of.” She locked eyes with me. “You have to swear to me you will keep it to yourself, or only share it with people you absolutely trust with your life.”

Her tone gave me pause, but I offered a short nod all the same.

Mersie drew a sheet from the pile of documents. It was small, no larger than my hand. A simple piece of paper with a single symbol drawn on it.

“This is the mark of Daltia, the Devil of Greed,” Mersie explained. “Her Knot uses it as a symbol.”

Daltia. I had heard that name spoken by Belgoroth when he first manifested. I studied the drawing, which represented a golden coin with a red-eyed skull at its center.

“Doesn’t it look familiar?” Mersie asked me.

“It’s a Devil’s Coin,” I replied. My old flame responded with a smirk. “Wrong answer?”

She picked another piece of paper from the pile, representing another symbol: a flaming claymore which I immediately recognized.

“This is the mark of Belgoroth, the Lord of Wrath,” Mersie said, before providing a third drawing. “And this is the mark of Belsara, the Beast of Sloth.”

Belsara’s symbol represented five animal heads forming a circle: a lion, a ram, a hawk, a wolf, and a dragon. The mark felt familiar, but it was only when I reviewed the other two that it all fell into place.

Could it be? I removed my glove and stared at my mark. Maybe… “Mersie–”

Mersie interrupted me with a sly laugh. She moved her hand and a deck of cards suddenly appeared in her palm. What a show-off.

Of the many card games of Pangeal, none were older nor more respected than Fatebinding. A standard deck was made of seventy-eight cards; four suites of thirteen cards dedicated to the four artifacts, and a set of twenty-two cards that each represented a hero’s class.

Besides being a perennial favorite of game tables and gambling dens everywhere, Fatebinding was also used by fortune-tellers and conmen to divine the future. I never put too much thought into the practice—I believed the future was ours to build—but Mersie loved to do readings. It was how I learned to memorize the marks.

The heroes were assembled in a sequence that started with the Wanderer at zero and ended with the Fatebinder at twenty-one. Mersie drew three cards and laid them on the table, right next to the demonic marks.

The Knight, a bastard sword topped by the Erebian numeral for fifteen.

The Ranger, numbered seventeen, is represented by three animal heads in a circle: the lion, the ram, and the snake.

And my own Merchant mark, a golden coin with the number fifteen.

There were differences between the heroes’ marks and those of the Demon Ancestors. The Knight’s sword was smaller than Belgoroth’s and lacked its fiery aura; my own coin symbol didn’t have a skull on its surface; and the Beast of Sloth possessed two more heads than the Ranger’s symbol. But I couldn’t deny the resemblance.

“That doesn’t prove much,” I said half-heartedly, trying to find a rational explanation. “The Seven Great Classes were bestowed upon us by the goddess to fight the Demon Ancestors. According to the legends, each of the core seven was made to oppose one of them specifically; with the Vassals to help them.”

Mersie shrugged. “That’s what the Arcane Abbey says.”

I scowled at the demonic marks. “But not what the Knots believe in.”

“No.” Mersie shook her head, before choosing her words carefully. “From what I’ve learned, the Knots do not deny the goddess at all. In fact, they believe the Demon Ancestors are her true chosen. The very first—and only—heroes of Pangeal, who will one day return to forge the world anew.”

“Mass murder and trying to destroy cities doesn’t scream heroic deeds to me.” My mind wandered back to Belgoroth’s all-consuming flame and its decidedly unfriendly influence on its victims. Still, a good investigator never dismissed information out of hand. “What are we then, if not heroes?”

“Fakes and frauds, who betrayed the true heroes and cast the world into chaos.” Mersie flipped another card from the deck between her deft fingers: the Fatebinder, numbered twenty-one and represented by the world itself. “I believed it was rubbish, but when I told the Wanderer, she told me Lysandra Alexios asked me not to mention the demon marks.”

“Even to us?” Mersie’s nod barely surprised me. “So Colmar was right. The Fatebinder is trying to hide details from us. Information that could help us better fight the Demon Ancestors.”

“Why do people in power lie?” Mersie asked, though she didn’t wait for an answer. “Because they have something to lose if the truth comes out.”

I had to agree. It would make sense that the Fatebinder remain tight-lipped with most, since knowledge of the Demon Ancestors could empower them. But we weren’t most people. We were divinely appointed champions expected to save the world.

Or at least, I hoped we were. “What else do you know?”

“Not much,” Mersie admitted. “The order’s secrets are only revealed to an inner circle among the Knots, who are almost all demons. Duke Ermeline himself was only a subordinate in the Knot of Greed’s hierarchy.”

If one of the most powerful men in the Riverland Federation was considered a low-ranking member, were the cult’s leaders princes and emperors? Though I supposed the Knots’ hierarchy might not reflect the power its members wielded in public society.

“Does the name Florence of Arcadia ring a bell to you?” I asked her.

I took Mersie’s frown as a ‘no.’ “Why?”

“She’s suspected of poisoning the count and being a member of the Knot of Wrath. Maybe one of its leaders.”

Mersie crossed her arms and thought it over for a while. “According to our investigations, Chastel and the Knot of Wrath answer to a woman going by the nickname of Mother Wolf. It could be her codename.”

“Could be,” I conceded. “Is that why you came to Archfrost? To track her and Chastel down?”

“More than them. I interrogated Duke Ermeline before finishing him off.” From her tone, I could guess that interrogation involved a healthy dose of threats and violence. “He informed me that the Knot of Greed’s leader has infiltrated Archfrost’s government.”

Now that might be a problem. Come to think of it, Fenrivos received his slaves from all over Archfrost; while his tavern worked to ship human meat across Pangeal, we couldn’t identify his core suppliers. The presence of a cultist in Archfrost’s government would explain how that slave ring went undiscovered, not to mention all of the country’s political troubles.

Mersie said they were involved with the civil war, I thought. But on which side of the fence? The crown? The rebels? Or both?

“Could you learn their identity?” I asked.

“No,” Mersie conceded. “Knot cells almost always exchange information through intermediaries to avoid compromising the greater organization.”

“The Inquisitor will soon visit Snowdrift,” I informed her. “As will Prince Roland.”

Mersie welcomed the information with a blank face and a flicker in her eyes. “Good,” she said. “The Knight will make for good bait.”

Something in her tone bothered me. “Let me be perfectly clear, Mersie,” I said, stressing her fake name. “We’re not putting the crown prince of Archfrost in unnecessary danger.”

Her head tilted to the side. “We cannot untie the Knots without taking a few risks.”

“I’m willing to risk my life alright,” I replied. “But not those of others.”

She scoffed. “Prince Roland is the Knight. He won’t be in any danger whatsoever.”

“He might be unmatched in battle, but would his powers protect him from a cup of poison? I’m not so sure.” If the Knots could operate right under our nose in Snowdrift, they might have infiltrated the prince’s staff already. “Clearly our enemies have spent considerable time and resources destabilizing Archfrost. The country is barely hanging by a thread, and Roland’s death would send it tumbling down into the abyss.”

“True,” Mersie replied with a shrug. “But I believe you’re underestimating Roland.”

“Neither of us can tell until we’ve met him,” I pointed out. “Promise me you won’t do anything reckless.”

“I am never reckless.”

“Then promise it to me.” I crossed my arms and held my ground. “Right now.”

Once again Mersie’s expression showed no hint of her true feelings. I could warrant a guess. She had been willing to murder dozens of nobles a scant few hours after her mark appeared on her flesh. I doubted all of Duke Ermeline’s guests were involved in her family’s demise, which meant she was comfortable with collateral damage. Not to mention all the lies she had surrounded herself with.

Even if Mersie had her reasons and worked towards a positive goal, her methods made me uneasy.

“I promise I will try to make too much trouble for you or your allies,” she finally said. “But I will act if I feel I must. I’m sorry.”

I shrugged. “No, you aren’t.”

“I am,” Mersie insisted. “You’ve seen what the likes of Sforza can get away with. Do you truly think you can take them all down without dirtying your hands?”

“No,” I conceded. “But if you dirty yourself too much, you’ll start stinking as much as your target.”

It drew a chuckle from her. “You always had a way with words, but you can be so naïve sometimes.” Mersie looked away. “You would never have agreed to what I had in mind.”

“Perhaps not.” I shrugged. “It wouldn’t have hurt for you to tell me though.”

Mersie’s lips twitched for a second. I had struck a nerve, enough that she avoided the subject. “You truly believe you can help this city?” she asked me. “Put it back on the right path?”

“I do.” I put my hands behind the back of my head and relaxed a bit. “You know me. I’m good with money.”

To my astonishment, Mersie appeared a little skeptical. “You’re good at making money, Robin, but you’re also carelessly generous.”

I squinted at her, suddenly a little annoyed. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“How much did you save up over the years you spent working for Sforza? Hundreds?” Mersie dared to wink at me. “While you earned thousands over the years.”

Was she judging my money-management skills? Mine? “Purchasing poison, horse relays, and an international boat trip through intermediaries that wouldn’t rat me out to Sforza were quite expensive.”

“But you could have saved up more,” Mersie insisted. “You gave away too much to others. Myself included.”

“Money is like blood. It’s got to circulate to keep the body we call society alive.” Gold buried underground in tombs and vaults served no one; not even the dead. I intended to get rich, but there was a difference between having enough wealth to fulfill your dreams and finding only pleasure in adding one more zero to a bank account. “Yeah, maybe I spent more on beggars and friends than my own person, but I don’t regret any of it.”

I raised my empty cup. “Especially not the money I spent on our dates.”

“We had fun.” For once, Mersie’s smile appeared genuine. “I do wonder how a man like you managed to survive Ermeline and Sforza.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I cannot tell if that is a compliment or a criticism.”

“A compliment,” Mersie replied, her eyes studying me as if I were some exotic beast from a faraway land. “I’m perplexed. You’re ambitious, but not even Sforza managed to chip away at your morals.”

“Easy. It’s because I had morals that I survived Ermeline.” I had been planning to expose the city’s corruption for years after all. “Ambition does not translate to a lack of scruples or being corruptible.”

“I doubt that.” Mersie winked at me. “I’m glad you’re an exception to the rule though.”

“That’s quite the cynical take on life,” I said.

“That’s the world we live in,” Mersie replied before rising from her seat. Her retainer immediately moved to recover the documents and seize her travel bags. “I’m going to rent a room in Snowdrift for the next few weeks.”

“I would avoid the Gilded Wolf if I were you,” I replied. “That establishment does not meet our health regulations.”

“I’m thinking of another inn on the north bank.” Mersie put a hand on her waist. “You’re welcome to drop by anytime.”

I smiled thinly. “As a friend?”

Was that a flash of disappointment I caught in her eyes? “If you want.”

She truly did wish to give our relationship another go. The realization made me feel a tiny bit guilty. Too bad, that ship has probably sailed.

The truth was, while I liked Mersie and was willing to keep her as a friend, I had enough self-respect not to date someone who had lied to me for years. I was looking towards a healthy relationship built on solid foundations rather than sand and nostalgia.

Perhaps we could still have some fun. As friends. With clear boundaries and no expectations.

Damn it, the more I thought of it, the more it sounded like a bad idea.

“We’ll stay in touch on how to deal with the Knots,” Mersie said as I led her and her retainer back to my door’s threshold. “Or investments.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You want to contribute to Snowdrift’s renovations?”

“Perhaps, if your plan makes sense to me.” After a moment’s hesitation, she kissed me on the cheek. Her touch sent a jolt of pleasure down my spine. “It’s good to see you again, Robin.”

“Same.” In spite of all the deceit, we had our good times too. I tried to focus on remembering the happy moments we shared rather than what she hid from me. “Take care, Mersie.”

Mersie waved me goodbye, her silent retainer following her like a shadow. I watched them take a turn down the next alley, and then they were gone.

“What am I going to do with them?” I muttered to myself. I had been looking forward to Mersie’s return once, but now she smelled of trouble. “The Assassin, the Inquisitor, the Knight, the Artisan, the Monk, the Alchemist, and the Merchant… quite the motley crew.”

A third of the heroes would soon find themselves in Snowdrift. The city would become a powder keg.

And I needed to prepare for the coming explosion.

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A/N: I couldn't resist the title XD I'll be on a trip to the USA midway through the week (12 hours flight) to meet with other authors like Ravensdagger, so few updates this week. Will send pictures ;)