HAWK & SABLE | TWENTY

BESIDES HER, RHYS was barely breathing as she regarded the two paintings in front of her. Both portraits. "Norman Hightower," she muttered. "This is it." No words were exchanged as the two girls warily studied the catalysts of this catastrophe, the innocent objects that were now responsible for at least two deaths, and perhaps more they hadn't yet uncovered.

Ciri didn't respond, glancing at Mr and Mrs Du, who were watching with rapt expressions. "I believe this is the key to your daughter's unfortunate demise. These very paintings."

Mrs Du recoiled from them immediately, but Mr Du frowned. "How?" Ciri knew what the man saw. Some oil portraits of no one important. If they didn't speak Arecian, they wouldn't recognise the signature.

"These were illegally obtained goods," Rhys lied, face barely changing, not offering a single moment of hesitation. "She must have been taken advantage of. Damnable business, I hate those who take advantage of good-natured people for their bad purposes."

Mrs Du's eyes widened. "But... but... oh, my poor girl. How could she have—" The woman's voice faltered and she sniffled, dabbing at her eye with her sleeves. She turned her gaze to her husband, who didn't look at her, too focused on the paintings.

"If I must be honest?" Ciri kept her voice quiet, soft. "Another young girl was killed a few days ago. A young official. She was in possession of paintings by the same artist. These paintings..."

Mr Du sensed her hesitation and raised his hand. "We understand. You cannot tell us. So this is why our daughter was taken from us so early. Paintings." He rubbed his forehead, a pained expression on his face.

Ciri nodded, biting her lip. "This is it. I am very sorry for your loss."

His face was stony when he raised his head and their eyes met. "You will find who did this." A statement, not a question. Even if he had no idea who Ciri was, he'd trust Rhys.

"Wo fashi." I swear. "Whoever did this would not get away." A solemn oath that she meant to keep.

Whatever Mr Du saw in Ciri's face, it reassured him. He gave a gruff nod, motioning at the troublesome paintings. "Will you need these?"

Rhys nodded, subconsciously rubbing her arms. "We'll have to take these back to the Scarlet Palace, I'm afraid, though I don't think either of you want to see them much longer." She lowered her head in an act of understanding and sympathy.

Mrs Du frantically shook her head, clearly feeling emotional but trying to hold herself together in front of guests and strangers, which was what they were. "No. Please take them away." Ciri had to resist the urge to wrap her arms around the woman, who suddenly looked frail and years older. Losing a child was never easy. Instead, she dipped her head as well, already feeling guilty over her next words.

"I wish we could give you time to process this, but we must ask more questions, especially now that we know Du guniang's case was linked to this."

Mr Du nodded, leading them back to the table. "Please. Ask. We will answer as much as we can."

They stayed there for a few hours, asking question after question. The couple's younger sons, one fifteen, the other thirteen, came in a bit later on and answered questions too, wide-eyed and innocent. Still, they weren't any closer to finding the spy within their ranks than before they had come. Du guniang hadn't revealed much to her family. Did that speak of caution?

Perhaps Dominic and Malcolm would have better luck. There was no more information to be found here, it seemed.

By the time they left, they were both starving, and the sun was starting to set. Rhys, wordlessly, led her to the carriage, both of them holding the portraits, keeping care in keeping its contents out of public gaze. No need for gossip to start stewing. They hauled the paintings inside, being careful about it.

The return trip was quiet.

✢

"APPARENTLY, DU GUNIANG would occasionally sneak out in the middle of the night. The other maids never caught her in the act, but her room would sometimes be empty." Malcolm let the implications of that sink in, then continued, "Most of them assumed she had a lover, and said nothing about it, since their housekeeper was strict with these kinds of things and it would probably have cost her her job. Other than that, they couldn't come up with anything out-of-place or strange with her behaviour." He stood next to Ryan, explaining with all the dignity of a soldier reporting to their superior.

Ciri frowned, gears in her head turning. "Do they have the dates, then?"

Dominic nodded, fishing out a piece of paper from his pocket. "Here. I didn't notice anything strange about it. No patterns."

Rhys took it, glanced over it, and then frowed. Irina raised a brow. "Something you recognise?"

"These," Rhys said, pointing at the parchment in her hand, "all coincide with days of William or his friend's revelries. Their little circle, all in all. I can probably find all my invitations if you want, the dates match up."

"Jinyao was lovers with William." Ciri froze. "Not him, though. Someone in that cycle, who could attend all those events without suspicion."

"His friends are all generally plump in the pockets," Asteria muttered, deep in thought. "People who could get expensive paintings with no suspicion cast."

"But also apparently poor enough that it's believable for them not to have space to store the paintings in," Rhys pointed out, laying the paper back down on the table for everyone else to inspect. "Though I suppose it could have just been some fancy lie with some elaborate excuse."

"Anything regarding the paintings?" Ciri asked, tapping her fingers against the desk they sat around.

"Dates back to four or five months ago. Jinyao's were older. Eight to nine months. We can assume the time it was painted more or less coincides with the time it went into their possession. That's a timeframe for them meeting the spy." Irina scratched her neck. "Anything from anyone else?"

Everyone shook their heads. "Those are the only two cases that seem linked," Io told them. "Myrina and I couldn't find anything." The countess gave a small nod in agreement.

"The banquet's in like, an hour," Asteria said, "so I have nothing to report until after that."

"Danna, security?" Ryan asked, raising a brow.

"Done literally yesterday. I'm efficient." She flashed a cheerless smile, more frightening than joyous. She was in that kind of mood a lot these days. "Almost all security is doubled. Anything else, I'm no Justine." As well as being a commander in the army, Justine was also the head of Irina's security. Technically speaking, her duty only extended to Irina's wellbeing, but when had that ever stopped any of them?

"Good thing Lan will be back soon, then," Irina said, apparently unimpressed. "But I'm hoping we have this more or less patched up before that."

Rhys was wrong, then. Not the end of the week. Maybe two, or more, because Irina was no naive, hopeful optimist. She'd look at cases and make a rational, logical estimation for how long it'd take and adjust her guess as time went on.

"Then we better start working," Asteria snorted. "God knows when that is. So, Rhys, any chance you know who attends these revelries?"

She gave it a thought. "I'll draw up a list by tonight. I'll give it to you guys after the banquet. It's not too big of a crowd, since he's practically living on the Emperor's hospitality anyways, so he tries to keep them quiet and undisturbing. He won't be throwing any for a while, in case you're wondering. Not with these two in residence." She nudged her chin towards Ciri and Laurence.

Malcolm said, "I've gotten invitations before. Never attended."

"Well, I have, once or twice," Rhys said, skirting the table. Dominic watched her, eyebrow raised. "He always did invite a lot of people from different departments, especially the Treasury, probably just to piss his father off. If a spy wants access there, it's the best place. God knows what drunken officials spill."

"Too much." Irina's face was clouded. "Alcohol is up there on the list of national security threats."

"Haha, very funny," Danna deadpanned. She rolled her eyes and leaned backwards. She wasn't usually this grumpy.

"There should still be paintings out there. Which means some more lives could be in danger," Ciri reminded, just to stop them from squabbling. "Are all the officials...?"

"The ones who could be convinced are now all living temporarily within our walls," Ryan announced, rubbing his hands together.. "I expect the rumours to start festering by tomorrow. But rumours would mean they'd all stay in one goddamned spot if they have half a brain that they use, so I'm not too worried."

"Or it could cause more chaos," Laurence pointed out, having been keeping unnaturally taciturn until then. All eyes turned to him. He shrugged. "Personally, I'm never a fan of hysteria. You always have to expect people to be dumber than they are in our line of work."

"Excellent advice," Irina replied, voice dry, expression frustrated. "I'll have to start keeping that in mind more often. Would make life much easier, wouldn't you all agree?"

Ryan cuffed Irina softly on the head, which caused her to snarl. He ignored her, all good-natured and brotherly-like. Irina glowered and rubbed where she was hit. "Right. The banquet," Ryan murmured, knitting his fingers together as he leaned forward in his chair. "We should all get ready for that, shouldn't we?"

Io said, "Depends on whether you're going."

They all ignored her, which she'd have expected anyways, being so wise and intelligent as she liked to act like she was. Myrina stood up, beckoning Irina to follow her back to her Palace. Ciri stood and excused herself, with Laurence following.

Outside, he said, "I suppose we're going the same way."

She didn't say anything, just tilted her head and led on.

Lady Kuroki's Bai Lu Gong, the Hundred Green Palace, was smaller than the royal splendor of the Emperor's dining halls, but it still fared well. True to its name, the Palace was decorated with every kind of greenery, indoors and out. Whether the Palace was named because of this, or the other way around, she wasn't sure.

Ciri sat sipping a cup of tea from the cup laid on the table in front of her, watching the performances by both hired performers and some of the school's students, a few potted bamboo at her back. It looked and smelled like a damned forest. Impressive spymaster as she was, Lady Kuroki had no taste for interior design. And many other things, really. Like tact. Or the ability to read the room.

The damned woman could guess the thoughts of an enemy agent before ever crossing paths with them, but couldn't tell when she needed to stop talking. Astonishing, really.

A squad of young women were dancing, graceful as dawn, leaping and twirling around the room in practised moves, long, silken sleeves fluttering through the air like butterflies. People all around watched on, expressions rapt and entranced. But Ciri didn't allow herself to enjoy it, instead focusing on the officials Asteria had marked out around them.

She'd already approached a few before the ball, asking how they were faring after the tragedy that befell Jinyao. Most of the answers were simple and normal, not betraying much. As expected. If each girl only had two to three paintings, then there couldn't have been too many others roped into this, if there were any more at all. The spy wouldn't have risked such a large network anyways. The more people you pulled into an operation like this, the easier it was to uncover, because someone would eventually mess up. Trust no one but yourself, especially when it came to working with civilian amateurs.

So she laughed and flirted and joked with the young men and women who had come, and politely conversed with some of the older lords and ladies, all while keeping an ear out for anything suspicious. Nothing so far. She glanced at William, who was rather reserved tonight, at Asteria, who was surrounded by a group of officials looking to further their station by befriending a future duchess, and at Danna, quietly enjoying her food, barely raising her gaze. Ciri knew better than to believe that meant Danna wasn't keeping note of everything in the room, though. Like it or not, the girl had been born for their work.

Io was disguised as maid once more, running around and delivering messages between those in on the true purpose of tonight's dinner. Ciri didn't pay her much attention, because the last thing the girl needed was to have the spotlight cast upon her.

None of the Wolves had come, expectedly.

Half the meal went by in relative peace. Laurence came by her table at one point and the two made polite conversation before he continued on his way. She looked for people who might pay attention to William or approach him, but almost no one did, as if they all realised the stormy mood he was in.

Near the end of the sixth course, Io came behind her, loud enough Ciri would know, being courteous.

"Irina asks me to tell you there was another body found."

It took all of Ciri's training for surprise and horror to not show. "Where? And who?"

"A maid of Lady Yin's." Lady Yin... the Viscountess. And one of the lords and ladies overseeing the Treasury Department. Ciri's gaze snapped to where the woman was before she looked away. Clumsy.

"Has the lady been informed?" She took a sip of tea to hide her shock.

Io shook her head. "An Iron Wolf would deliver that news later. Ronan sent the report. The Wolves are on the scene. It's in the Eternal Light Gardens."

Ciri's brows furrowed. "But that's under construction. Why would a maid be there? And how was she found?"

"Apparently they heard her scream." That meant the girl died recently. That all but completely cleared everyone present at the banquet. "Irina says you could go investigate if you want, but to go alone to not raise suspicion. And be subtle about it."

"I am always subtle," Ciri muttered. "I'll do that, go tell Irina or continue spreading the news. I'll be back as soon as I can." Io nodded and ran off. Ciri quietly stood up and headed towards the nearest exit, eyes meeting Irina's across the room momentarily before she stepped out into the empty courtyard.

She took the quiet routes, not wanting to run into someone and risk awkward questions. At night, with most of the nobles having dinner and the servants serving them, all was vacated. She could barely hear anything past the quiet hooting of hours and soft rustle of leaves.

She didn't notice the shadow trailing her, looming closer and closer until she took a turn into a dark corridor and it finally struck, quick as lightning, leaping down from the skies.

Her reflexes were fast, but not fast enough, and she was restricted by her dress. Ciri was thrown to the side, gasping as she ripped out a knife from a hidden pocket of her dress, quickly getting on her feet. But her assailant was fast and far stronger. And they didn't seem like they were trying to kill her. I'm a toy. This was someone experienced. She gave it some thought and realisation dawned on her.

"Stop—"

She was thrown against a wall, and the world went dark.