Rosalynde watched the rain pour from the sky safe from inside her bedchambers as she contemplated the clouds racing high above in the sky.

They hadn't spoken of whatever had happened between them. But true to his word, Grey had brought her to the small tea shop close to Merchants Road. She'd felt his eyes trailing her body as she moved around the isles. At the end she settled for a couple of new arrivals hailing from the Atrean Kingdom. The first one was suggested by Grey: a black enriched with cocoa bean and a mixture of spices that blended perfectly, ginger, cardamom, malt and chicory root. For the second she settled with another blend; enriched with chocolate curls, rose petals and pink pepper.

How long had it been since she'd last had time for herself? For her to roam freely inside a shop without the heavy hands of the clock urging her to go back into the shadows where she truly belonged?

That was why she'd taken her time in choosing, even if at the end she did not pay a single dime. Apparently Grey had decided to cover everything she was going to buy in advance. And she knew better than to argue with a banker when the stake was money or self-accomplishment itself.

She didn't object either as he offered her his arm for her alone, leading her around Merchant Road, passing over the private road where his house was and over the northern bridge that divided the neighbourhoods of Merchant Road and the High Strands.

He'd accompanied her back into the Citadel and with a light kiss against the back of her hand he'd retreated, taking with him the papers proving the existence of Verity, tracing back to its early days.

He met no resistance form her part, knowing very well that less martial she had on her the safer Pharah- and maybe Katherine too- would have been.

A few days had passed since their last encounter, but Rosalynde could have sworn in front of the relics of the previous monarchs that she still felt a light tingling on her lips. Whatever that kiss with Grey had left her, it still hadn't gone away.

She didn't know if she liked the feeling or if she loathed it- maybe both, maybe none. She'd started walking onto a path completely unknown to her.

If she was going to be rewarded at the end was completely another different story.

A knock resounded from the hallway, with the ethereal figure of Pharah waltzing inside the room with Katherine hot on her heels.

"Morning! I need you both in this gloomy morning!" Pharah exclaimed with profound joy.

Rosalynde had to share a single look with Katherine to know she was not going to like whatever the second Apostle had come up with.

"Does it involve alcohol?" Asked Rosalynde.

"Or maybe a decent dose of sleep? Heavens above know how much I need that. Your mother asked me to play for her till dawn. I even snapped one of my harps' strings while at it!" Katherine whined on reply, dropping on one of the couches inside the antechamber preceding Rosalynde's bedroom.

The apparent heir seemed to consider her words before a sly grin made its way on her refined face. "No and no. Today I have to accompany the Egor's son around the palace. And as my lady-in-waiting and a good friend of mine you're both bound to accompany me in this tedious errand." Pharah finished.

A small giggle escaped her lips as she watched the other two woman's face morph into one of horror.

Katherine was the first to reply. "This is just an unfair abuse of power." And turned to look at Rosalynde in hope of finding a solid backup.

But all the Smiling Dame did in reply was to raise her brow, gracing her brethren with a knowing smile before shrugging in resignation.

"You can't get always away with everything- she cannot always get away with everything,"

Pharah chuckled in triumph as she took both girls by their hands and ushered them out of the room.

But not before Rosalynde had tried the tea blend Grey had gifted her. Not thinking of sharing it with anyone- Pharah included.

It was hers, and hers alone.

Hers to keep safe and sound, hers to enjoy during autumn storms and blizzards, hers to cherish and use while brewing a decent cup.

꧁꧂

They received the Egor's son in one of the private parlours of her majesty. This one in particular possessed the prized view to the outdoor gardens and a path that led to the private hunting grounds of the Des Reslows. They were going to hunt later in the afternoon if the rain would have lessened.

"How are you finding the capital, Lord Yulian?" Pharah asked. Taking contained and silents sips from her ceramic teacup.

Lord Yulian gave her a small polite smile in reply. Nodding his­ head before clearing his voice a little. "Your lands offer a vast land of entertainment, your highness. One could easily loose his way while trying to navigate them," he said.

Rosalynde couldn't decide if the boy looked more uncomfortable that he sounded. She couldn't see him well from where she was, but by the tone the conversation had taken; she knew he was anything but relaxed at that moment.

How to blame him.

She'd taken seat beside a pair of glass doors that looked down on the gardens still disturbed from the rain. From her spot from afar she was able to make out the silhouettes of the gardeners and outdoor servants still working under the thunderstorm.

A groan formed at the base of her throat- more complains from the staff meant more work for her to do. And more work to do meant more time passed reviewing the staff.

"Does your lordship miss home?" The young lord looked up at Rosalynde, a grateful look echoed on his face, his lines visibly gentler.

"I do. I miss especially how me, and my friends would set sail close to the coast when it was windy enough to go out at sea! Always in complete safety of course," he reminisced, playing with a cookie before plopping it into his mouth.

Reminiscing, however, was not something Rosalynde was going to gift him on that day. "But then where is the thrill out of all of that? Setting sail in deep waters, knowing not where you're bound to dock should be way more...rewarding, no?" She bit her tongue in time to contain a mocking laughter from escaping her lips.

Ruining a diplomatic meeting and perhaps the only chance to establish whatever could be established between the two nations was not on her agenda.

"Then I pray you'll return home as soon as possible. So that nothing here will be able to... corrupt your idealistic thoughts on life itself." Rosalynde said, a light snicker forming on her lips as she.

But before she could bask in her t got promptly hit on the side by a black cane, making her grimace as she viciously cursed under her breath.

Katherine raised a funny look, crossing her legs as she stiffed a laugh. Barely holding it together.

She barely had time to look at the perpetrator as Lord Regulus greeted the company. The sound of his cane hitting the floor as he quietly took a seat beside his former protegee.

He silently took a seat beside Rosalynde, crossing his steady cane over his legs.

"Was that necessary?" Rosalynde whispered.

He clicked his tongue and settled deeper into the soft silks. "No."

"Then why?"

His periwinkle eyes seemed to twinkle with amusement. "It may have not been necessary, but I can assure you, Rosalynde. That it proved into be highly amusing."

She gave him a chilling smile.

"You're just lucky I have bigger matters at hand," she didn't have to look back to look at his reaction. A shaky reaction was all she needed to confirm her suspicions.

"You found something inside the House of Hastles. Did you not?" He kept his voice low, barely strong enough to reach her ears.

She kept her gaze fixated on Pharah's figure, her eyes trailing the details of her dress. "Maybe," she said.

"And?" he pushed, keeping his voice in check. "What did you find?"

"Names that make no sense." She spat, pulling her fists. Ruining the fine silk of her dress as she did it, her smile wavering a little as Lord Yulian turned to ask her if she was well.

"Come and find me later in my study. We'll talk about this... inconvenient, there." And he was gone again, bowing his head in regards as the sound of his cane accompanied his slow steps outside the room.

That was when Rosalynde stood up herself, and quickly moved in front of Pharah, searching for any kind of discomfort in her eyes, a pang of relief flooded in when she saw none.

Then, Lord Yulian cleared his voice with a couple of coughs before awkwardly looking around, blurting out something that made the room in the corridor drop below zero.

"You do realize that I was brought here because our parents wish us to marry, right?" He asked, biting his cheeks before lowering his gaze.

If Pharah was angry, or at all in discomfort, then she kept it hidden well- masking everything with an amused smile.

Katherine kept utterly still at those words, eyeing Rosalynde who shut her up with a single, wicked smile of hers.

All those present inside the room knew what he'd just said was nothing less than the truth. Pharah had never told them directly, there had been no reason to do it. Rosalynde was her personal attendant, anything worth of knowing had already been told. Maybe not by voice, but everyone knew that gestures spoke stronger than words.

Yes, everyone in the room knew why Yulian Venier had been tossed on a vessel and shipped on the other side of the ocean.

"I'm well aware, Lord Yulian."

"Good. This whole situation has been taking a toll on my mind," he said, honesty laced within his words.

"And why is that?" Rosalynde couldn't hold her tongue this time.

Yulian Venier looked at her with a new light shining in his eyes. "You probably are well aware of the tensions with the Atrean kingdom." It was no news that the Detrian Republic and the Rowlian Empire both held obvious hostility with the Atreans.

"The rumours?" Pharah asked. Placing her empty teacup on the table in front of her.

"Not rumours, only facts. The Atreans have taken hold of three naval bases on the east. Over two hundred civilians have been taken hostage. I won't bother mentioning the number of bodies we found."

The whole conversation made Rosalynde's ears peak up, interested like never before on that day.

"Aren't you known for your supremacy over deep waters?" Pharah remarked, slightly annoyed.

In that moment he did not look like the Yulian Venier Rosalynde had encountered on the night of the ball. The goofy, scared lamb scattered to the four winds. He flexed his long fingers, taking a deep breath before continuing the conversation.

Gone was the political hostage, all that was left was the shadow of the Egor's son.

"I have no reason to disclose the republic affairs with you. My father sent here in hope to win your favour. But I know how you Rowelian act. I grew up studying politics and history just like you, which is why I would like to propose a deal that will advantage both of us- not only you." He gripped the end of his long sleeves. Eyes never leaving the raven-haired woman in front of him.

"What do you propose?" Pharah said, glancing at Rosalynde who quietly nodded in understanding.

Pharah's dame went for the door, standing right before it, both hands resting behind her back and touching the iron pommels of the door. She knew when it was better for her to keep her mouth shut, and this was one of those moments.

"Have her leave," he intimidated.

"Not a chance. If have something to say to me, then be prepared for her to hear. We come in as a package deal," it took every ounce of seriousness in Rosalynde's body to not snore right in his face.

He stared for a few moments, basking in an embarrassing silence before clasping his hands together, frowning a little. "I would like for us to get engaged. No marriage, I just need an alley with enough power to stand up against my father and the current king of Atrean."

"You want to play their game before deviating from the original track," she was quick in grasping his real intentions, but a cloud of doubt could still be seen lingering in her mind.

"Yes. As you both probably know." He made his gaze linger on Rosalynde's listening form before continuing. "After the ascension to the Atrean throne of Holsdor the IV, the Atreans have started their quest for war, but many of my scouts have informed me that the population is not happy with how the king is administrating his lands. They miss the former queen."

Pharah scoffed into her tea at that last bit of information.

"What's so funny?" Yulian asked.

"If you truly had done your homework, Lord Yulian. You should know that the Atreans have always disliked their current king."

"Yes but-"

"He assassinate his mother the queen and had his younger brother watch her execution before slaying him too."

There had been nothing that could have done to save her majesty queen Setaria Aterium and the second prince, Andros Theodorian Aterium by the wraith of Holsdor. First thing into his rule had been spiking his family's heads on the palace outer walls.

"How do you place him on the scale from-one-to-ten in worst brother of the year, Rosalynde?"

"He can easily win first place." Rosalynde sneered from behind.

Pharah snapped her fingers and pointed them at her personal attendant without even looking at her. "Exactly Rose, exactly."

The other shot her a look that made the bones of her back freeze and fall of at any second.

"Can I continue explain my proposal or would you like me to bring out more cookies and tea so that you could continue your personal conversation? Literally, don't mind me." He managed to silence both women for a couple of seconds before they burst out laughing without a sliver of imperial decorum left inside their bones.

After both of them gave their apologise, Yulian resumed his small talk.

"I would like your help in finding a man that could act as Andros Aterium. He was the most loved member of the royal family before his death. Charismatic, smart, always helped out his mother and never had a single interest in the fight for the throne." He kept on listing the deceased princes' qualities until the tea in Pharah's teacup grew cold.

"-And if the rumour of him being alive would suddenly spread around, guess what could easily happen?" There was a sparkle of high interest glimmering inside his eyes the moment he finished.

Rosalynde said nothing, but Yulian's smile dipped as he saw the way her eyes widened after a couple of moments passed in thought.

"You think the people would start rebelling if the rumour of Andros Aterium being alive was spread?" Rosalynde said, voicing out loud the thoughts of everyone inside.

He cracked a couple of knuckles and massaged his neck before watching both woman in front of him "I don't think. I know."

They continued to negotiate till supper came around, till no detail was left unnoticed. It was after Lord Venier left the room, his long vests trailing right behind him that Pharah stopped Rosalynde from leaving the room to get her supper.

She placed a hand over her shoulder, tightening it slightly as her lips hovered over Rosalynde's ear. "Use your connection and have the rumour spread till our harbours, make sure sailors and merchants alike hear it. Any new on my oh-so-long-lost-sibling?"

Rosalynde felt her breath hitch in reply, throat running dry as she shook her head.

"I don't care what you need to do. Use any means necessary, find them and bring them to me- alive, preferably." Pharah patted Rosalynde's back a few times before retiring to her room, eagerly awaiting her meal.

Speaking of bastards and orphans- Rosalynde had still one thing to do before assisting her lady to her bedchambers for the night. And after promptly serving her masters dinner she quickly called for a horse to be brought to her, and with the advancing dusk she rode her stead until the familiar garden of Cleia's orphanage came into view.

꧁꧂

For the first time in forever Rosalynde had the courage to decline a good cup of tea, she had already excided her daily dose and did not want to have her front teeth to start darkening before a new shipment of sage would have arrived from the Atrean kingdom.

Cleia had been the one to answer the door this time, no devils' spawn had peeked from behind a corner as Cleia led her to her office on the second floor of the building.

She still remembered the last time she'd come here. It'd happened months ago, right after encountering Grey for the first time. When she'd needed her informant to peek into his closet to find a couple of skeletons to use against his almighty persona.

"I'm expecting company tonight," Cleia said after she sank into the chair, twirling her hair with her thumbs.

Rosalynde's smile shifted into a wolfish one. Her back hitting the soft silk cushions of the small beige sofa inside Cleia's office.

"Oh? Are you now?" Rosalynde questioned. Her fingertips periodically tapping the sofas' armrest as her eyes stalked the movements of her informant right in front of her.

The head of the orphanage scrunched her nose at the stare she received, signing a few papers before asking why Libby Brown had visited her so late.

Rosalynde straightened the ends of her gloves. "I need you to spread a rumour for me," and as the clock's handled continued to turn, Cleia took every spoken word in, making it seep deep into her bones.

It was when Cleia had repeated the instruction out loud that a small knock resounded on the door, the iron cardinals screeching as a young hazel head came into view. The girl could have not been older than seven, with her nightclothes, right hand still over the heavy pommel of the door, and inside her left a small teddy bear with a blue ribbon worn out by time held tight in the other.

"The funny straw-straw looking man has a-arrived, Miss Cleia. He's waiting down inside the e-entrance." the young one stuttered a little, and between actual stuttering and perpetual coughs Rosalynde didn't know how she'd actually finished the sentence at all.

"That one is?" Rosalynde asked as Cleia quickly rounded her desk, telling her young protegee to get a glass of warm milk with two-spoonsful of honey before heading to bed.

"Emerense. Her father was accused of slander and was deported. Her mother didn't have the money to maintain her, so she sent her here."

"So, she still has a parent?"

"Yes, but her mother was with child when her husband was deported and thus was forced to give up one either children," Cleia answered without beating around the bush.

"And the choice fell onto her," Rosalynde finished for her informant, licking her lips before leaving the warmth of the sofa.

She went for the door, quickly ducking around Cleia as the latter looked at her with suspicion. "I would like to meet this funny-straw-looking-man," she grinned.

"No!"

"Why not? I won't bite him- for now at least."

She quickly travelled down the stairs, eyes roaming around to take is as much as they could. "By the way- what happened to the kid I saw last time?" She could have never forgotten the blazing hair of that kid. Nor that attitude he'd demonstrate the first he'd opened the door for her.

That devil-like hair was not something people saw every day.

"You mean Raphael? He was actually adopted a week ago. A widow who lost both her husband and child decided to take care of him. She seemed okay, a bit strange- but with good manners and everything."

"Pity, I would have loved hearing him whine again."

They were at the end of the staircases when Cleia let out a furious shriek. Raising her hand to hit her employer.

The Apostle gracing her with a calculated chuckle as she ducked, grabbing the flying fist before breaking it with her own force.

"I did not take you for a sadistic woman, Lady Rosalynde. After all, Hector keeps you in such high regard it's difficult to imagine you in another light."

Both women stopped in their steps. Cleia was the first to act, bringing a hand over her mouth as she tried getting away from Rosalynde, who in reply narrowed her eyes as the latter tried to get away from her and pinned her to the ground with her stare.

She watched the shadows give away the form of a man, a man she'd met only a couple of times.

"Lord Nathaniel." Was the only thing Rosalynde managed to say as Grey's assistant stepped out of the shadows, hat in hand and over his heart as he watched the spectacle playing in front of him.

"Lady Steel, what a surprise," even if by the sound of it, it appeared that he was anything but surprised in finding her there.

There was something deep playing behind his eyes, something that for a handful of moments left the 4th Apostle still on her feet, a glacial feeling washing over her as she grinned back in reply. "Don't tell me, Grey sent you here?"

He gave her a humorous smile. "But of course."