Maize didn't sleep, not as the thought of Laris meshed with her plans for the next three days.

She wouldn't go down to see them off either. Ress was supposed to be no more than a servant traveling with the others to assist where he could with the preparations. No other lord or lady would be present to see off their personal servants, so her presence would be too suspicious. Ress would understand. He had his own tasks to see to, just as she did.

Nor did she want to potentially cross paths with Cade. The less she saw of him, the better, and she hoped Laris was true to his word.

That she wanted to go out to see Laris off concerned her the most. But she remained where she was. It would have brought more attention to her and even more questions would arise if anyone saw them together now- she'd rather play that part when he returned from the Hunt, just as she promised.

But how much of a part was she truly playing? Laris was a decent man, and she had no ill intentions towards him. Not to mention, with him the voice seemed to quiet, as if it was afraid he would hear. And it was a comfort Maize could only know when she was drugged with the herbs. She was being foolish- she knew she was. Laris was the Prince. She was a thief from the Den. She was there to find Lusciana's Legacy and bring it to Forge for the agreed-upon price. It was what she knew, and what she was good at. And it would finally be enough for her to escape the living hell that had become her life and try to return to a normalcy she hadn't felt in the last three years.

They just needed to get through eleven more days.

The one person she made sure she saw off was none other than Lawson Forge. From the window at the end of her hallway, she had a view of the front of the castle, from the circular driveway to the main gates and the wooded lands beyond the city where the hunt would take place. She saw the king's carriage, where he was joined by Laris. She saw the advisors' coaches not far behind, and then the respective lords and their entourages to follow. She watched Lawson Forge, dressed in his black leather hunting gear and cape, climb into one of the advisors' coaches, but he gave the castle one final glance back before he did. As if leaving it behind for three days was the last thing he wanted to do.

He wasn't wrong.

As soon as the final coach and carriage and entourage was gone through the castle gate, Maize moved. Retreating to her room, she tossed off the dress she had put on to reveal her own leather armor underneath. Searching through her trunk, she donned the new gloves Celese had given her, remembering that she needed to send the Denmother one more note to let her know the fate of Ress's aunt and their return in a fortnight. She also strapped on her knife belt, complete with her thieves kit and lock picks.

Tying her hair up in a tail, she wrapped her cloak around her shoulders and departed. She clung to the walls, to the servant staircases, to the more unused and untraveled hallways she'd been able to discern in her travels. She didn't want to make her purpose too obvious but also didn't want to make it look like she didn't belong there. Ideally, she'd have been up on the rooftops of the castle and grappled her way down, but without Ress there to hold the rope, she'd have to do it this way.

If not for Ress, she'd also have no idea which room she needed to raid, and precious time would be wasted picking the lock of every room on the advisors' floor. Thankfully, he had himself a diagram of each room in the castle for all servants and visiting footmen to refer to so as not to get lost and to be able to assist with the castle's servants as needed. It was that folded piece of paper he had presented her when last they spoke, and with that knowledge tucked away in her belt, she was able quickly to determine which room was Forge's and made quick work of getting herself there as soon as she was able.

Unlike the rooms within the courtiers' hallways, the advisors' doors were most definitely locked, and as far as Maize knew, the only ones who would be able to enter would be the one with the key... or someone who knew how to expertly pick locks.

Pulling the pick from her belt, she quickly glanced up and down the hallway before kneeling before the door with the lock at her eye level. It was quick work, and the pins were simple to manipulate, and not even a minute after she began her attempt the lock opened.

Opening the door only as much as she needed, she slipped in and quietly closed and locked the door behind her. The curtains were drawn so the room was covered in shadow- it took Maize a moment to allow her eyes to adjust to what Lawson Forge considered his sleeping quarters.

The room itself was a mess. If she hadn't just seen Forge leave, at first glance she would have assumed someone ransacked the room before she got there. Closer inspection, however, showed there was some organization to the chaos, the papers in organized piles and the books stacked alphabetically, and in the middle a rather large and neatly made four-post bed.

Whatever Forge was researching, at least he made sure he had somewhere to sleep while he was doing so.

Making sure to steer clear of the pristine bedclothes, Maize because working her way around the room, inspecting the piles of papers and stacks of books as best as she could without disrupting them. If they had just been scattered any which way, it would have been a lot easier to maneuver, but because Forge seemed to have a system in place, she needed to be very careful about what she picked up and that she returned it exactly where it belonged.

Neither the papers nor the books lent any insight as to what Forge was researching, or the identification of the Legacy. Topics from trade agreements to ancient families to marriage agreements next to books on herbology and mythos and the history of Dreduor's ruling families. War, peace, love, and politics... nothing that gave any insight as to what Luscianca's Legacy could possibly be.

Carefully making her way across the room, Maize came upon a small work table, again surrounded by stacks of books and covered in piles of paper precariously near what looked to be burning candles. Here there were various pens and inkwells and notes... nothing that seemed to be of much importance.

Except one.

Shuffled away at the bottom of the centermost stack was a letter that would have been missed by anyone else, but Maize was more than familiar with the green and grey emblazoned stationery belonging to the Denmother of Dreduor.

Memorizing its position on the desk, Maize carefully eased it out from the stack and held it carefully between her fingers. It may have been a coincidence being on Celese's personal stationery, but the handwriting Maize had become quite familiar with.

And it was a letter addressed to Lawson Forge.

My Dear Lawson,
It has come to my attention that there is somewhat of a priceless artifact due to be on display during this year's Remembrance Day. So princeless, in fact, that your own Prince had come to seek me out under the cover of night so as to enlist my services to retrieve the same without his father knowing. Therefore I would like to speak with you about such an item, and will offer you my best for appropriate compensation. You know how to find me.

Sincerely yours,C. D.

Maize had to read it three more times to completely understand what she was seeing, and another two to commit the letter to memory before she stashed it back where she initially found it.

Betrayal. Greed. Lust. Lies.

She needed to get out of that room. She needed to get as far away from Lawson Forge's deceptions and whatever deal he made with the Denmother that could potentially get them all killed. She needed to get to Ress, she needed to talk to Laris, she needed to do something-

Her panic knocked over a stack of books closest to the room door.

"Shit," she hissed as she scrambled to piled them back exactly as they were. She went to pick up the last book that had fallen open when the facing page stalled her efforts.

It looked like an illustrated encyclopedia of mythology, with each page possessing a picture and description of a different fantastical creature. On the one that caught Maize's attention was a picture of a non-descript man kneeling on the ground next to a dead body, holding his head as though in agony, with what looked like black spirits circling and rising above him. In the background was a robed figure with its hands raised and arms outstretched, but its features were shadowed.

Below it was the artist's credit, but it was the wording of the informative blurb beneath it that left Maize stunned.

The Revenant

In the fragile moment between death and rebirth, a spirit is vulnerable and malleable. The revenant can therefore be coaxed and transferred by those with the knowledge and power into another living being for an undetermined amount of time. Whether for companionship or curse, remembrance or retribution, the vessel will not know its fate until the transfer is complete. The two live in harmony or chaos depending on the revenant's deeds in life. A benevolent revenant will allow its host a worry free existence, while a malicious revenant could go so far as to completely take over its new home, leaving the living being often in pain, confused, and in some cases, unconscious while the revenant takes control. Though many have tried, the only way to remove a revenant from its host is by the magic user who put it there, or death.

Death, death death...

Maize ripped the page out of the book. She hadn't the time to read it again, but she was terrified of what she had found, and needed to make sure she had as much information as she could before she began to assume anything.

She put the book away carelessly, almost knocking the tower over again before she caught it and set it straight. Folding and tucking the paper away, she gave Forge's room one final inspection, making sure everything was where it was when she arrived, before carefully departing from whence she came.