They followed.


    Small slips, here and there. A glance away too quick. A stumble over someone in the crowd. A rattle of armour when she took to deserted narrow side-streets or through snow-covered construction sites.


    They follow but I’m being led to believe that they’re incompetent. Cheeky bastards.


    There was definitely someone she couldn’t see that was doing the actual following. She was certain of it when she passed through the Guild’s large, ornate gates. The ones drawing her attention were far observers, too distant to listen in on conversations, pointless really for anything more than annoying her.


    As she headed to the postings, shouldering through the wet throng of snow-laden bodies, she looked behind as if reacting to a noise from the crowd. Nobody followed, not even the minders from earlier.


    Am I being paranoid? She’d been cooped up inside with Tallah for too long. It was about time she’d start imagining things.


    “You’re a pleasant surprise, miss Silestra Adana.”


    She startled and turned around with a yelp. Lucian was by her side, offering a smile that managed to be both apologising and ingratiating. The man must have walked out of a wall.


    “My apologies if I startled you.”


    There was just the barest outline of a fading-yellow bruise over his right cheek. Hair thin lines of scars showed on his lips, almost invisible on his pale, parchment skin.


    “Good morning, Master. You did. I hadn’t seen you approaching.”


    His smile broadened. If he held any grudge for whatever the Guard had done to him, he didn’t yet show it.


    “Given the crowd we face, one must learn to move unseen. What can I thank for the pleasure of your presence here today?”


    Sil started forward again and Lucian fell in step by her side, hands clasped at his back, almost slithering through the push-and-shove.


    “I wish to have a look at recent postings.”


    “Is Winter boring the Mistress?”


    Sil smirked and offered a small shrug. “It is. And we’d like to take more active roles with the Guild come Thaw. A bit of travel, if you understand.”


    “Ah, the days of chafing. I remember them well.” He drew ahead by a step and opened a path for her. “I’m not surprised the Mistress would like a change of pace. It’s been a remarkably quiet few years here in Valen.”


    “Quite.”


    Quiet wasn’t how she thought of the time since she and Tallah had begun their work. They’d arrived and set Tianna up in Valen just less than a season after the fire, and had been working restlessly since then. Five years, two hunts. First Bianca, for whom they''d had to steal into Aztroa Magnor, a plan that ate up two years of their lives. Then Anna, a frustrating series of false leads and dead ends that had grown more and more aggravating by the day.


    It hadn’t been quite so quiet.


    Another of Empress Catharina’s wars would have helped them move about more easily, but the allegiances with Valen, Calabran, and Ria held strong.


    The Maggot War droned on in the Heavens, so the Empire wore its cloak of peace.


    Bugger.


    “Any particular interests?”


    Sil pulled herself out of her own head and stared ahead at bursting billboards. Guild officials were setting new ones up, fighting against the crowd of adventurers to pin new notices up. The clamour had Lucian yelling to be heard over the din.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    “As you can see, it’s a very lively time for us here. Very exciting. You couldn’t have come at a better time.”


    With the boy taking up so much of their time for the past few days—infuriatingly so—she had forgotten the date. This outing was more so she wouldn’t strangle the frustrating wretch.


    “Ah,” she muttered to herself. Then, to Lucian, she said, “New postings came through the Gate today?”


    “Precisely. Isn’t that why you’re here?”


    No, not really. She and Tallah wanted to start looking for new information on Deidra Aratol and her movement. Guild postings, out of date as they would be over Winter, were a good place to start. She had completely forgotten about the mid-season delivery from Aztroa. No wonder the place teemed with people.


    Well… bugger.


    “Excuse me, Master,” she said as she pushed forward, drawing a scroll out of her satchel.


    For better or worse, if there actually was someone keeping an eye on her, this wouldn’t tell them anything of worth. Just another adventurer come for the fresh missions. Most of those there had come hoping for paying work come Thaw. The actual commissions wouldn’t get handed out for at least a few more weeks but it was worth being among the first to apply.


    Someone pushed her and she shoved back, fighting her way to the front of the lines. One look at her wooden staff sent most adventurers to the side, shoving a clear path for her.


    It didn’t pay to upset a healer, not when you might be working with them one day, especially an aelir. Their memory for slights ran decades-long.


    Lucian followed quietly in her wake, hands tucked inside his vest pockets, as she scribbled down notes. Most of them were nonsense that Tallah would throw out. Others were of interest.


    “The mistress seeks to work you hard again I see.”


    Old Forge. It came up time and time again. Unrest. Bandits. Monsters sighted. Even a Dread Chimera, which was sure to bring in experienced adventurers. Forces were being amassed there.


    “Every time I believe myself getting a handle on her, you show up and ruin my delusions,” Lucian said as she copied down the details of some request that promised bugger-all of interest. “I can’t see her doing work as plebeian as what you’re perusing now.”


    “She’ll likely not even deign to read the details. But my instructions are to bring back whatever gets us travelling. We’ve seen quite enough of Valen’s countryside.”


    Lucian seemed thoughtful as he watched one of his assistants put up another series of queries.


    “I imagine her father’s minders are bothering her again. We’ve had an influx of requests about her Grace. Mind you, these were from before the snows came, so likely out of date.”


    Sil grinned and leaned into the broker, elbowing him slightly.


    “Free information, Lucian? Coming from you, I might get very confusing ideas.”


    He scratched at the thin stubble on his cheek and twisted his face into an amused grimace.


    “I dislike highly insistent parties, miss Silestra. Call it a professional courtesy extended towards your mistress.” He smiled, grey eyes twinkling bright in the sprite light. “And, if I can be honest, I’m very much looking forward to the oddities you two might bring back. Your last delivery led to some interesting conversations.”


    She couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow and stare at him. His eyebrows in turn rose as he kept smiling, mirth turning to polite inquisitiveness.


    “I’ll… I’ll be sure to let Mistress Tianna know of your interest.” She stumbled over the words and hastily turned back to her notes.


    “Please do that,” he said and turned his eyes back to the new postings. “You might be interested in that one, right up top, by my assistant. Yes, that one.”


    Glaring down at her from the page was a sharp-featured, deeply lined face painted in colour. Ashen-coloured hair braided into a narrow strip hanging over one shoulder, eyes the colour of Summer plums staring from behind round spectacles, high cheekbones, a crooked nose and thin, cruel lips. Deidra Aratol, wanted dead or alive. Dangerous in the extreme. The list of crimes levied against her filled a scroll as tall as Tallah.


    Ice stabbed into Sil’s spine and she felt colour draining from her face. She had to gather herself before slowly turning to—


    “Miss Silestra,” Lucian’s voice whispered in her ear, “I council caution. Spending one more Thaw with us might not be so terrible. Until certain embers cool.”


    “What do you m…” She turned sharper than she had wanted towards the voice.


    Lucian was gone from her side. He had melted into the flagstones or something to the effect for she hadn’t even felt the crowd shifting to allow him passage. A look back showed nothing but more bodies crowding the entrances, and one of her minders getting an unceremonious elbow to the ribs.


    Sighing and worrying at her lower lip, she turned her gaze back to the portrait. Empress Catharina had deemed Deidra a big enough nuisance to formally call for her head.


    “Head names the price,” she read. Others had noticed and many whistled in appreciation. Low grumbles made the connection just as quick as she did.


    Last head to name a price up on a billboard had been Tallah’s.