The orphanage was nothing but a bundle of lights when Nathaniel turned around, watching their surroundings as he led her away from the Barracks, passing through the secondary alleys of the High Strands before Reslow Plaza came into view.

Nathaniel nudged her with his shoulder, quietly telling her to move forward.

There wasn't much to see at night, the lamppost barely fending off the growing fog as the central column of the plaza acted like a beacon in the night, with many contained fires burning on all sides of the dark marble.

She rarely had business here, the only mandatory time was when the annual parade of the Des Reslows came around the last week of spring. The place was bothersome to keep track on. Too many exits one would use as escape routes. Too many entrance pints to keep guards on.

She had neither the time nor the desire to deploy that many guards for special occasions.

"What are we doing here?" she asked, taking in the shadows of those who still wandered around at such late hour.

"Oh. I have no idea. All I needed to do was bring you here." He threw his hands in his pockets before shivering, cheeks red for the daunting cold.

She turned to look at him, raising a brow as he bowed down, tilting his hat in sign of goodbye.

"Where are you going?" But he was gone, the fog around him aiding his escape.

She did not have the time to turn around before she felt a pair of hands sneak from behind her, covering her view as her back was brought close to a solid chest.

"Missed me?" Grey's smooth voice crept into her mind as a sweet and alluring lullaby.

She brought her hands over his own, squeezing them tightly before slipping from his grasp. She could barely see his face as she took a good look at him. It was the first time they'd met since that day, and for some strange it seemed as if she hadn't seen him for an eternity.

He looked the same: with those piercing eyes and impeccable looks.

"Not at all."

A shiver ran down her spine as he bowed, taking her hand in his before planting a gentle kiss on the palm of her hand. She had half a mind to remove her hand before he tightened his hold, laughing her words off as he straightened his spine.

"You lie."

She gave him a look full of disdain, her smile widening before passing into action. Taking her gun with her free hand she went to his side, smashing the hilt of the iron against his ribs before twisting his wrist.

He rotated his shoulders to recuperate from her attack before going for her knees, shoving his foot against her knee.

"Hello to you too, Silver." He let her go before dusting off his jacket. "Happy to see your greeting methods haven't changed since the last time we met."

Rosalynde groaned, soothing the annoyance by massaging her forehead with her thumb.

"What is it that made you summon me after the hour of the devil?" midnight had passed many hours ago, and in a few hours dawn would have erased the darkness of the night.

He seemed to sober up, cracking his head before his playful smile died on his lips. Grey looked around them before offering his arm. She obliged, and together ventured away from the darkness of the plaza.

before offering his arm. She obliged, and together ventured away from the darkness of the plaza.

"I have a lead."

"And you just had to summon me at this hour."

"I wanted to see you, but not only because of that. My informant passed me what they believe is one of the main production site of the drug."

He'd ventured in dangerous waters, and Rosalynde couldn't wait to dive into them herself. To taste danger was the one true feeling she would have never gotten over. The adrenaline that rushed as she strived to achieve what she was asked of was something that kept her awake mind awake even at night

"Can we trust this person?""Generally speaking? No. But the Seekers have decided to give us a hand. Hellenia would never go against their direct orders if she wishes to live."

A new sentiment rose within her.

"Why did you not tell me it was her?" the question came out harsher than she intended. There was no reason for what seemed annoyance growing within her.

"Because I don't enjoy talking about a woman from my past with the one I'm currently captivated with," if the cold hadn't made her cheeks cold, then his words surely had dealt the killer blow.

"Where are we going then?" He took her down a path alongside the riverbend, the soles of their feet crushing the leaves below.

"The Botanical Gardens," when he gave no other information Rosalynde understood the would have gotten nothing more out of him

"I've kept something from you." Her head snapped to look at him, her eyes flashing with something unknown.

Something that tore her chest apart, something that grinded her ribs to nothing more than dust.

He gave her a reassuring squeeze.

"Remember the first night we met? At the Black Tide?" He collected his breath before continuing."As you probably know, me and Hellenia have history together. But that was not the reason why I'm telling you this."

They stopped over a bridge, his gaze training on the dark water rushing below them. "The night we met; I was not there for fun. I was there because I was investigating the drug that was later used on Loid. I'll spare you the details, but someone close to me died by that drug, and I took it upon myself to make sure she was avenged. That was when I first encountered Verity."

Rosalynde turned around, her back leaning against the railway as she took in his handsome face.

It took every ounce of her will to not take his cheek in her hands, smoothing it until worry would have scattered away from his face.

"After paying my way around I discovered a relation between Verity and this drug. It has not yet been put on the market; they're still testing it on human subjects. I do not know who's manufacturing it, even if I do have my suspicions now, but I did find out where they were researching it."

Only then did he look at her, truly look at her.

As if looking at her for the first time, he seemed to remove each layer from her torrid heart.

He'd placed down the table all the cards she needed to place things together. He waited for her mind to crack the enigma alone, for her everlasting smile to morph into something different yet so similar to what he was used to.

And then her eyes widened, her smile thinning as recognition and shock became one on her face.

"The Black Tide," she muttered. "What better way to make people pay off their debts by agreeing into what seems like the perfect scapegoat."

He raised his chest, clearly content with how the conversation was going.

"Loid had gambled all his wealth away, and without thinking twice he fell into their trap. But that's not all. Do you remember Mary Clark? About the empty warehouse you searched right after her death?"

"You think that the warehouse was where the drug had been hidden?" The more he spoke the more things started to make sense. Loid had looked surprised that night, before his mind was completely broken under the effect of the drug.

"Of course, mine are all theories. But think about it. The morning after Clark died her warehouse had been emptied."

"Someone was watching her," the skin under her gloves started burning, her eyes closing as a new idea started festering her mind.

Because if she was right, then they had a greater problem at hand.

Rosalynde brought a hand over her lips, keeping her heart in check as she examined the evidence in her mind.

"What is it?" His lips met with her ear, earning an unravelling shiver down her spin, but quickly hid it before he had the chance to say anything.

"How did Verity do it with so little time at their disposal? The warehouse was anything but small. And no matter how big in size, if they had a large stock stored it still would have taken them hours to get everything out." The river below gurgled; the small flames enclosed inside the lampposts burned until their end as Grey seemed to grasp what this time she was trying to tell him.

Verity couldn't have done this alone. And the only people aware of the plan were the Apostles themselves.

They had a traitor among the midst.

But still, that wasn't the only thing Rosalynde had to tell him."

There is something I want to ask." She nudged him, taking him by the hand as she brought him on the other side of the bridge.

"You? Asking me something? Astonishing," he pinched her side jokingly.

She had half thought of throwing him in deep waters before shaking off that thought.

"Andros Aterium. Did you know anything about him?"

It was as if someone had jabbed a blade at his side and had twisted it until there was nothing left to break. And by the way his body stilled, Rosalynde knew that something had snapped inside him.

The pain in his eyes was something Rosalynde had never seen coming from him. The desolation, the surprise, the hatred that flashed in those seconds were enough to make both her hands shoot forward and rest on his cheeks.

"Grey?" for the first time in a long time, Rosalynde had no idea what to do to help him.

She'd learned with each passing day how to read his expressions, how to distinguish the tones he used when dealing with various situations. But what was happening in that moment was something foreign to her.

Her palms pressing against his cheeks seemed to help. A low sight came from him as his own hand overlapped with hers, trying to keep it as close as possible.As if a single slip, and she would have slipped forever from his grasp.

"Grey," Rosalynde said yet again, with warmth crawling up her cheeks.

He gave her an appeasing sound.

"Close your eyes, and don't you dare open them until I say so," she instructed him, dropping both hands as he did as he was told.

Then, with the same inexperience of a child in learning how to learn, she made her hands slip around his waist, looking up at him one last time before bringing his body close. Her head resting over his heart.

She didn't really know what to do. She'd seen people hug for a thousand different reasons: for joy, for acceptance, for rage, for sorrow. But never had tried it herself on other people.

Grey chuckled with bitterness.

"You really can't hug. Can you?"

"Shut up," she said.

It was in that moment that he made his own hands sneak around her sides, one hands paying with the ends of her hair.

"Hector. Not Grey. When will you start calling me by my name?"

Rosalynde didn't reply, nor did she move. The sound of his beating heart currently the only things she was paying attention too- or so Grey thought.

"I will, one day I will," she didn't know who she was promising this to, if to him or to herself, or maybe both.

Grey grumbled, squeezing her one last time before planting a peck on her forehead.

"Regarding your earlier question. Yes, I knew Andros," he bit his tongue as more pain crawled out of his memories. "My mother was his caretaker while my father was a  scholar responsible for his upbringing. We grew up together."

Rosalynde kept quiet.

"We were brothers, even if not by blood. The day Queen Setaria was murdered by Holsdor, my father tried to get Andros and I out of danger, but he was caught, and later executed beside my mother," He huffed a strangled laughter. "We had the same job, you know? I was Andros' personal servant."

"You got away," not a question, but a statement.

"Luck, my father had suspected about Holsdor's betrayal months before. And had arranged a way out for us. My orders were to keep out for dangers and to lead Andros away from conflict," Rosalynde could read in his eyes the words that had died in his throat.

Andros never made it out alive.

"Then why wasn't he stopped?"

"You can blame it on a mother's love, Rosalynde. Her majesty was sure her words had the power to sway his mind."

"And you winded up on the other side of the ocean," she finished for him.

"And I met you. Now you know my past," he said. "But then again. Why did you ask me about Andros?"

Her chest seemed to tighten when he shied away from her touch, retreating between the cracks of darkness as they started walking again.. She knew what it meant to carry a greater burden that she'd even imagined. In her youth.

She told him about the deal between Pharah and Lord Yulian. How they would have used the image of the beloved second prince to move the subject of the Atrean Kingdom.

Grey listened as she spoke, rubbing his chin. "It could work. Years have passed since Andros was killed. He was loved because he actually cared for them, even if he never joined his brother for the throne's succession he never stopped suggesting way to help."

Rosalynde shifted on her feet. "Do you miss him?"

"Every single day," he replied without missing a beat.

And from the look in his eyes, she could tell it without many doubts that was he was saying was true.

But they had something else they needed to do before dawn came by, and just like a single shadow, they ventured into the darkness, in the direction of the Imperial Botanical Gardens.

꧁꧂

They waited for the last sentinel to end their shift before taking action. They had more or less an hour before dawn would have taken them away from darkness's embrace. And there was no way they would have entered by passing through the main door.

Even if the gardens did belong to the imperial family, nobody had to know what business had called them there at such early hour.

After checking all the entrances, Rosalynde suggested using the sewers that connected the underwater system with the High Searis. The area was remote, and difficultly hard to reach thanks to the  dense vegetation that had grown close to the shores of the river.

Rosalynde had to rip off the edge of her dress, discarding with a half curse before lifting what was left of it and ventured into the sewer.

Together as one they started checking for a grate that could be easily removed, moving quickly to loose as little time as possible.

"Why do these things weight so much?" Rosalynde muttered as she pushed a stone tablet far away from her head, peeking out as Grey held her still under her.

"Maybe because they're made to do that?

"I needed encouragement, Grey, not whatever you're trying to do."

They broke into one of the main glass greenhouse, its wall covered with thick vines and rare plants of colour Rosalynde didn't even know existed, and that not even the richest merchant would have found while venturing inside the black market.

There was a small artificial stream running in the middle of the ambient. Rosalynde crouched down beside it, dipping the ends of her skirt in the water to wash that remained of her edges.

"What exactly are we looking for?" asked Rosalynde.

"No idea Guess we'll find out when we'll see it." Grey replied, studying his surroundings, approaching the glass doors to look for any signs of an approaching guard.

In that exact moment, a wail cleaved the air, making both Apostles still as marble columns as they looked around to intercept the original of the sound.

Rosalynde instructed Grey to stay quick and get his back against a wall. And taking her gun out, she silently loaded the weapon, waiting for the outsider to show themselves.

She followed the stream, her feet moving like feathers in the wind. The wail came again, closer this time, and in obvious pain.

She raised the weapon, taking off the gun's safety before her eyes saw something she never thought she would have seen in a place like that.

There, at the end of the stream, positioned over a stone pedestal, laid the body of what looked like a young boy. A thick mass of red hair, shallow breaths, the small and grail body trembling like a leaf in autumn, as if awaiting for the moment where death would have waltzed into the room to take them away from the world of the living.

Rosalynde got closer. Dawn's light started filling the room as she finally saw exactly what was in front of her.

She lowered her weapon as dread filled her guts.

She knew the boy.

She'd met him once, many months ago.

"Raphael?"