Ignas turned to the young woman with a warm smile. “Annette, I am glad to see you are safe.”
“We have been awaiting your arrival.” Annette bowed. “Sir Earl’s scout said you would arrive about now.”
Ignas nodded. “Has an inn been secured?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Faust took pause. He recognized her voice. She was the one with Ignas back in Limorous.
Annette bowed to Faust. “It is a pleasure to see you safe, Lord Arcus. Sir Rene has been fretting endlessly.”
“I bet he has,” Faust said. “I am pleased to finally meet you as well. Thank you for looking after both of us back in that town. I appreciate it. Can you take us to him?”
Annette gave a small smile. “This way, my lords.”
Faust hesitated at the inn door with an elegantly carved crest of Roltan on it. The inn was well-kept with not a weapon in sight, and the mixture of light wood and paint was far more inviting than other places he’d stayed, but what awaited him beyond this door was not.
The door flew open, Rene on the other side.
Faust jumped.
Rene yanked Faust inside and checked Faust for injury and slid his gaze over to a rather smug Ignas.
Ignas closed the door and leaned on it. “I can care for him just as well as you.”
“I am unharmed, I swear,” Faust said.
Rene motioned for the two to take a seat.
Faust turned to Ignas and moved him along. The interior of the room was just as inviting as the rest of the inn. The drapes were a light blue, the walls were white, and the wood light. Even the small sitting area and poster beds were the same light palette. “Will Annette be joining us?”
“She’s my scout. I need her to stay vigilant for us. Who knows what dangers lurk here,” Ignas said.
Faust nodded. “Please let her know she is welcome whenever.”
“She will be pleased to hear that.” Ignas sat on a bed. He slid his hands around Faust’s lean waist and pulled Faust onto his lap with a grin.
Faust settled with a contented smile. He liked being surrounded by Ignas’s warmth, and his lap was the best place for it. He’d grown used to it over the last week while they slept out in the open.
Zara sat in a chair. “I hear you had quite the action on your end.”
Ignas rolled his shoulders. “It was nothing we couldn’t handle. Though we may have settled in for a war with Lathil.”
Zara took pause, her gaze searching Ignas’s.
“I would like to send word to my brother,” Faust expressed among the silence.
Rene shook his head. “I haven’t been able to contact him. Sending him any kind of message now could put him at risk, but he wasn’t pleased the last we spoke.”
Faust lowered his head. “It was the only way we could get away.” If Rene couldn’t get a message to Konrad anymore, that meant he would need to send the next one. He was not looking forward to Konrad’s scolding over Miklos’s death. He might have messed up whatever plan Konrad had in place.
“It is not your fault,” Rene said. “We all prefer you to be alive and well. The king’s direct orders were to protect you—no matter the cost. Do not dwell on it.”
Faust gave a brief nod. He leaned into Ignas’s warmth and toyed with a piece of Ignas’s tunic.
Ignas kissed Faust’s temple.
“So,” Faust grinned with a glance to the fuming historian, “what have I missed?” He was ready to move the subject away from the horrid images of the battle.
Rene pushed his monocle up with a huff. “When the town was overrun, I arranged for the chests and journals to be hidden by the Guild of Artisans. It would have been troublesome to carry them with us. I informed King Konrad of their existence. He will decide where they go,” Rene said. “It wasn’t an easy escape, but we learned quite a bit in Akarvine.”
“A storm almost prevented us from arriving, but when we got there, neither of you were anywhere to be found.” Zara furrowed her brows. “By our flight projections, you should have arrived before us. I flew faster than usual to try and catch up to you.”
Ignas hugged Faust to him and leaned his head on Faust’s shoulder. “You won’t believe what happened, but we were launched far from Akarvine and wound up near the border of Roltan, well past our intended point—”
“In a matter of minutes,” Faust finished.
“Alimphis seemed intent on keeping us from Akarvine.” Ignas shrugged.
Rene creased his brows in worry. “It blew you away?”
“It certainly felt like it.” Faust relaxed into Ignas’s hold. He pulled out his sky stone and looked at Rene. “What did you feel from the storm?”
“An unreasonable amount of magic,” Rene said. “The storm occurred during a tournament Lord Heath had sanctioned on Emoris’s orders. A mysterious young knight plowed through the competition. He had a high aptitude for the sky stone, and yet the knight cared little for the title of champion and disappeared soon after his victory.”
Faust tilted his head. He thought back to the storm. The knight’s affinity for wind magic could rival his own if he’d caused the storm.
“That’s not all,” Zara said. “Lord Clare employed the knight. He won the Guild of Masters’s freedom, and from the sound of it, something Lord Heath didn’t want to leave the city. He must have been cocky to lose something so valuable.”
Ignas raised an eyebrow. “What did Lord Clare win?”
“A contract, but no one seems to know what was in the contract,” Rene said. “Some have speculated that it was blackmail on the Guild of Masters while others believe the contract pertains to Lord Clare himself. There were nasty rumors flying around about Lord Clare, too.”
Faust frowned. “And what about the condition of the city? Our people.”
Rene shook his head. “It seems all the knight did was free Lord Clare and his merchants. Lord Heath fears that the knight will come back and topple his city. He has patrols checking everyone that enters and exits.”
Ignas glanced at Zara. “Did you bring anything of value back?”
“Of course.” Zara looked at Rene.
Rene picked up a bag and placed it on the table near him. “We ransacked Lord Heath’s study before we left. He had an unreasonable number of contracts, and from what we could gather, he was forcing people into contracts to keep them as slaves.”
Faust pushed off Ignas and walked over to the table. He pulled some contracts out. A deep crease formed in his brow as he came across serious crimes. Branding, slavery, executions, murders, and a plethora of other vile acts. He tossed them and moved to another stack, his magic rising with his anger, gliding across the wood in the form of twisted plants.
“Lord Arcus,” Rene called. “You need to calm down. The innkeeper will not appreciate a new floral arrangement.”
Faust flicked his hand absentmindedly, and the table shrank back with a creak. He read another contract, and his heart stopped. It was an order for the death of the Queen of Alios. “Rene.”
Rene stood at Faust’s side. He read over the contract, and his eyes grew dark. “This is the proof King Konrad needed—he was right.”