It was the first time that name reached Rosalynde's ears, so common yet dangerous thanks to the particular way Grey had articulated the name, stressing everything his tongue was met with a consonant.

The crumbling theater seemed to be a far memory after that six-letter word had been spoken.

Verity, the Goddess of Justice.

"What an interesting name they decided to use," She commented, a shiver started running down her spine after sensing the sheer winter cold crawling up her skin, making her rub her gloves together.

It mattered not if a three-hundred year old building fell to the ground thanks to the stunt that woman had done, Rosalynde always had been adverse to the cold, even if for the first few years of her life snow had been the only thing along with her parent she'd gotten accustomed in her early childhood.

"Yes. But we better move to a safer place, even the High Strands can be dangerous at night," he was right, at night the High Strands could become even worse than District Street, especially in the alleys where no streetlamp seemed to work.

"Where exactly?" She knew he'd no intention of coming back to the Imperial Citadel, but the information he had was something she needed to get her hands on.

"Come," but she didn't move from the spot, her back not leaving the wall.

There was something she needed to assert before doing anything, something that she should have done before.

"I need to make sure of something before " she said, making him stop in his tracks, looking at her like she'd grown a second head right behind the first one.

"What? Did you forget to close the backstage door? Afraid that the room will get cold?" He asked with fake interest, small simples showing as he mocked her with nothing but obvious pleasure.

She narrowed her eyes in reply, rubbing her hands together to make the cold go away.

"I need to check if Carter is still alive."

She never called her name except on rare occasions, always referring to her as Carter or Apostle V, and tonight it would have not been any different.                                               

Katherine was useful to the Crown, and worthy of being a member of the Apostles, just as her majesty the Empress had declared.

Plus it would have been tedious for her to search for another person to fill her spot, making her lose extremely valuable seconds that could have been used in other useful activities.

"Why? I thought that you didn't care about them," he stated, raising an eyebrow, failing to grasp the true meaning behind her words.

Or maybe he'd realized it from the very start.

"Katherine is greatly favored by the empress, she wouldn't be happy to hear that her protegeè died because I did not bother checking if she made it out alive or not," Rosalynde said.

"So you do care a little about her safely." He stepped closer, starting at her freezing arm before deciding to poke it with his index finger.

"Stop touching," she intimated with a predatory smile gracing her lips, making him smile once more in reply.

"You didn't answer my question though," but Rosalynde had already slipped away from her spot, the shadows aiding her walk as she heard Grey sigh in annoyance from the back.

"Stop avoiding life," She didn't even bother in replying to that idiotic statement, wondering how that even had sense in the first place.

"Stop spouting nonsense and stay here, I'll come back soon," her reply however didn't seem to satisfy him, as he simply rolled his eyes after catching up with her, offering his arm for her to take.

She slapped his arm away, scolding in disdain.

"After we look for your friend we'll need to have a small chat," once again his words were nothing more than the mere truth, they had to discuss a lot of things, but most important of them all – they had to talk about Verity.

And that wasn't an argument that could be postponed to further date, that was something they needed to discuss about now.

However no words regarding Katherine were spoken after asking around about her whereabouts, making Steel bite her lower lip until a small line of blood started pulling from the fresh wound.

With Steel growing more conscious with each passing second , Grey became more silent with each step they took towards the safe-house that he'd opted for them to talk in.

She'd accepted his offer to talk, and in return he'd made her walk for half a mile, with the Imperial Theater still burning in the background up and down the High Strands.

Maybe he'd done that to tire her, to make her less reactive, but when they stopped in front of an enormous building facing the main street of the High Strands Rosalynde had already stopped in trying to understand how his mind worked.

More than a safe-house this one looked like an intricate fabrication of eastern architecture styles from the other side of the ocean mixed with the imposing columns of the north.

Grey on the other hand kept on studying her reactions, every movement of fingers, every small yet precise gesture she made while walking around. Occasionally even looking down to stare at his shoeless feet, his long winter socks being the only thing shielding his toes from the frozen cobbled ground.

"This way, we don't want people poking their noses into things they shouldn't worry about, no?" She gave off a silent nod, silent following him as a gush of wind coming from the west came crashing on their back at full force.

But the wind hadn't come alone, a low distorted sound of what seemed like barked orders and yells full of angst filled the air around them, the wind carrying the evidence of what was still going on in the place the two of them had just left.

Rosalynde could already imagine what she would have read in a few hours, already tastinging the title that Apostle IX, known to everyone as Asterian Nightingale would have come up with to try and calm the protest of the crowds.

"Here." Grey made her halt in front of a small iron-laced door on the back of the building, pulling her into the comfort of darkness that the games of shadows were able to provide them.

Taking out of one of the many sewed in pockets a set of keys, he then selected one with the edges painted in a dark shade of red, making it then meet the polished keyhole before twisting it with force.

The door opened in an instant, unlike what Steel had believed as she tried to capture the details of the iron-laced door that looked as if it'd been glued with resin to the wall.

"Be quick, I don't like using this door," he hushered her in, making sure to not slam the door behind him, but making sure to lock it with a double twist of key before turning around to look at her face.

"Make yourself at home," he disappeared for a few seconds, completely vanishing from Rosalynde's sight before what seemed like an electrical switch being moved from its original place, the bulbs hanging from the roof lightning up the room in less than a flutter of lids.

But she didn't move, her eyes kept on staring at the bulbs emitting light, not taking them off even if the light was hurting her eyes like someone had stabbed both of her pupils with an invisible thin knife.

"I've never been here," he seemed to lose his foothold for a moment, eyes wide with unparalleled surprise before finding his voice again.

"You're telling me you've never been a client of mine before?" She made the gears in her head turn and turn before the same light bulb hanging from the room seemed to switch on inside her head.

All of her doubts seemed to vanish into thin air as he showed her his office, inviting her to come in with a smile that no other business man could have tried to imitate. A room filled with what looked like an neverending plane of contracts and accounting logs neatly divided into six different piles.

"Welcome to the Bank of Lun," was all he said.

Rounding his desk in the middle of the room before gracefully sitting down, crossing his legs and arms as he invited her to sit down on the single chair on the other side of his ebony desk with a single glance.

This time his marble-like eyes really did seem to shine brighter than the barrels of her guns.

꧁꧂

Both of them said nothing before Rosalynde decided to be the one to start asking questions, copying his position as she crossed her legs in the same position, this time however not in a sign of mockery.

She simply desired to know.

""You said they call themselves Verity," she started, pausing after speaking the name of a God she didn't believe in.

"That's how they call themselves, a dishonor to the only God who's blessing this world would really need," he replied without a hint of amusement.

"I've never heard of them before," her own statement made her feel even bitter, for the inadequacy of the words she'd just said out loud.

"Understandable, only a small chunk of the Underworld is familiar with them too," he told her.

That made her tap her fingers on his desk, one after another as she processed the information given.

"What about their activity?" Grey let out a loud sigh in reply, throwing his head back prior replying back at her.

"Of this I'm not sure myself, they appear to be a relatively new entity, but too many things don't add up with that version," he answered, taking out from his side of the desk a file, quickly glancing through it before throwing it her way.

"Why?"

"I have no clue on why, all I know is that I found no records in the Underworld regarding Verity, and that's what preoccupies me," he scoffed at her face.

"What I mean is no matter what you do, the Underworld will always have some sort of evidence of your previous transactions. How do you think I was able to seek out the frauds that came to my bank in search of an advantageous deal?" Speaking of the Underworld was never something that people did lightly, not even the Apostles dared to wipe off the Underworld alone.

Nobody had ever dared, nobody had ever tried, and nobody would have ever even remotely thought of doing it in the first place. And there was a damned good reason behind that reasoning.

"You're telling me that the Underworld has nothing on Verity?" Rosalynde found it hard to believe it, especially after Grey let out what seemed as a soft chuckle.

That however was the only soft thing his handsome face seemed to possess, cold features overlining what once in the past had been.

Rosalynde stopped drumming her fingers against the desk after he gave her that look, the same look he'd given her on the night they'd first met at the Black Tide a little less than three weeks ago.

"Nothing usable, no tabs on the members that were initiated, no apparent affiliation with other kingdoms, no logs of old transactions done in the past," he was truly serious now.

"Have you tried going to the Seekers?" Only few dared to meet the pillars of the Underworld, the six founders nearly becoming a myth with the passage of time.

What people had seemed to forget with time was that all six pioneers were still very much alive, lurking from afar as the reign of terror they'd established over three decades ago kept on stirring the world they all lived in.

All he did in reply was laugh at her face.

Clenching her fists, she inspired before releasing them, control was something she was good at – and it would have not been him that would have gotten under her skin.

"The Seekers are too dangerous, alas I would even like to keep on living for another couple of decades you know?" It was like he'd just reverted back to the facade of the mask he'd so neatly crafted.

"But they must know something, if what you say is correct then they probably have the answers." Finally she decided to pick up the envelope, feeling the heavy staring of his eyes on her.

Observing was one thing, but analyzing her face like he did was something she wasn't completely accustomed to.

"What is it that you want to ask me?" She finally asked as a single windflower was the last thing that fell from the envelope.

"Why do you always smile?" She wanted to pluck his eyes out and keep them as a prize, but hence knowing that that wasn't possible all she did was keep her cool.

Unbothered, all she had to do was appear unbothered, such an easy skill that she'd learned years ago would have not hindered her progress.

"I don't always smile," she sardonically replied with what people could interpret as the sweetest of the smiles.

"Oh but you do, your smiles aren't forced, they look more like a reflex your muscles learned to adapt to something on their own," he retorted, not knowing the killing intent that was slowly spreading inside Steel's body

"I have not, I don't need to lie to someone like you," Rosalynde picked the flower up, examining the windflower.

"You lied again," he stated with a hint of amusement.

"Why is there a dried windflower here?" This time she took it personally to change arguments, twirling the flower in her hand before plucking a petal out.

He seemed to have agreed to play that little game, leaning forward as if to examine the flower a bit better.

"Do you know what 'windflowers' mean in the language of flower?"

Rosalynde answered with a clear no, telling his after that studying the language of flowers was something that'd never keep her eyes on him as he finally decided to tell her. "Rebirth, and that is why I'm sure this isn't the first time the Rowlian Empire has heard of them," Grey said under his breath.

She didn't detect any movement that could lead her to think he was lying, still, better be safe than sorry.

"When did you first learn about them?" Steel asked before giving him a sharp look.

He stopped whatever movement he was doing to look out of the window behind his desk, staring at the reddish aura that the still burning theater provided to color up the frigid night, raising his chin to make it look as if he was looking at her from a higher ground.

"Seven months ago, by pure chance if we're being honest. Why do you keep on lying to me?" Rosalynde's expression morphed instantly at the last question, her smile growing thin and full of displeasure.

"Again?" Stating that Rosalynde was on the verge of exasperation wasn't far from the truth.

"Yes, and keep in mind that I'm not even asking about how you immobilized Hellenia up there." He raised his hand to his neck, rubbing it gently to mass the same exact point where Rosalynde had used her curse against the woman in the green dress.

Rosalynde's smile grew larger again, just like her expression seemed to grow with each word she then spoke.

"What did I do?" Her eyes seemed to fill with starlight as she started reveling in the feeling of superiority, making him narrow his eyes at her.

"That, I still don't know, but don't think I don't intend to find out what trick you have up your sleeve."

She said nothing after that, uncrossing her legs before quickly getting up from the expensive seat she'd been staying, eyes the unmoving figure of Grey who in the meanwhile had turned his seat around completely to stare into the dark nothing of the night.

If even the Underworld, the place where all the true evil could dwell without the authority of the Crown stepping over it, had nothing on Verity; then that meant that the person behind it had been planning it for a long time. And that notion was enough to start making Rosalynde's head throb.

Dragging her feet from where she'd stood, she quickly made her way to where Grey was, deciding at the last minute to not leap over the desk.

Rosalynde knew how tedious the feeling of having to pick up every single sheet of paper was, and it was the least she could do after he'd given her so much information on the entity called Verity.

Drawing her pin from her hair for the last time, she threw it in his lap, those marble-like eyes shooting up in surprise before he drew in a resigned breath.

With the throbbing getting worse with each breath she took, Rosalynde decided to return the shoes he'd given her, freeing some space on the desk and then dropping them there.

"You'll be hearing from me soon," was all she said before going for the door.

Her hand rested on the knob for a long time before she opened the door, not tuning back as she closed it with a firm movement for her arm. The pain had started spreading, now entrapping her under its caging fists of fire alternated with waves of pure ice, slowly becoming unbearable with each second passing slowly.

Pulling the ends of her gloves, she slowly crept out of the building using a window that's been shut on the inside, rushing into the dead alley deep immersed inside the frigid night

The pain didn't go away even after returning to her chambers, stripping off any glimpse of clothing she had on her body before submerging her body inside the adjoined bathroom with a polished ceramic bathtub inside which she'd been quick in filling it with cold water.

She stayed there for a long time, before sleep and the fatigue of the last hours finally hit her hard, a wave of dreadful sleep lulling her off into a world she didn't want to see.

For that was where the memories of the past liked to come back at her, bearing their fangs with a past she'd decided to bury long ago.